#post-stasis!Kix

[misstoodles-doodles]

Patching Up & Post-Mission Debrief (AU)

AKA a 3 character sketch that got way WAY out of hand.

Close ups:

[vodika-vibes]

Hi Vodika,

I saw your post about ideas for post stacis kix. I have one if you want to throw it out the window you can.

What if during the clone war kix ended up getting together with a witch that has a really long life/immortal. They talk about how after the war she will turn his life span to match hers so they can be together forever. But obviously kix goes missing and the witch goes looking for him for all those years and almost gives up hope/gave up that he's still alive until she hears about some guy who looks a bit like a clone.

That's the idea hope it sparks something💖

I Will Wait

Summary: As an immortal, you were warned that you could only share your immortality with one other person. Your mother chose your father. Your grandmother chose your grandfather. Your brother chose his husband. And you chose Kix. Only, before you could actually share your gift with him, he vanished. For years you clung to the glimmer of hope that he might still live, but it’s been 50 years, and you’re starting to give up.

Pairing: Post Stasis Kix x Witch/Immortal! F Reader

Word Count: 2064

Warnings: Angsty in some places

A/N: So the first part is in the reader's POV and the second half is in Kix's POV and there's not really a lot of romance here, but I think it's sweet. I hope you like it! Also, if you're name is on my tag list and you're not getting tagged, I think it's something on your end. Some names I just can't tag.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You never thought that you would become that witch.

The one who lives in the woods, with nothing more than the animals you need to stay alive.

And yet, here you are.

Your only companionship, these days, are the chickens and cows you need for eggs and milk. Oh sure, sometimes your brother visits with his husband and their three kids, but those visits are becoming more and more rare now that the kids are adults in their own right.

You can’t stand the pitying looks that they give you.

And, on the most recent visit, your brother-in-law tried to sit down with you, to talk to you about how you can’t wait for Kix forever. That, as a clone, the odds of Kix having survived the war in the first place are astronomically low, but that it’s been 50 years and even if Kix had survived the war, he clearly didn’t want anything to do with you—

Well, you didn’t appreciate that conversation.

And your brother didn’t appreciate the fact that you broke his husband’s nose.

That was the last time your brother visited. Sure, he admitted that his husband was out of line, but he was just trying to help. Your brother also admitted that his husband’s brand of help wasn’t very helpful. Your brother-in-law reached out, once, to apologize.

But the damage had already been done.

You elected to bar your home from your brother’s family.

At this point, the only people who visit you are the women of the local village. They come to you for advice and medical care. And, on two separate occasions, help getting away from their abusive husband.

You’ve not been labeled “witch” as of yet, but you know it’s only a matter of time.

For now, though, the mothers of the village are happy to let you watch their children while they’re working. It’s a fair trade, in the end. The children get an education, as you teach them letters and numbers and how to recognize poisonous mushrooms from the safe ones, and as payment the village gives you cloth, to make clothes out of, and seeds, to grow in your garden.

“Miss!” One of the little boys chirps as he scrambles over to you covered in dirt and leaves, as little children are meant to be, “I finished tilling your garden!”

You smile at him, “Very helpful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He beams at you, showing off his missing front teeth, “Can I plant the seeds now?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a reading lesson?”

“Not really, reading is hard. The words get all jumbled and mixed up.”

You nod your understanding, “Alright. Well, I think I want to grow tomatoes this year. The seeds are in the shed.”

His grin widens before he turns and runs off to the shed, and you watch as he pulls open the door and vanishes into the structure, before you turn to look at his mother, who’s sitting across from you sipping some tea.

“Is the tea helping?”

The woman, older looking than much younger than you in truth, releases a relieved sigh, “Much better, yes.” She sets the mug on the table and places her hand over her swollen stomach, “The nausea wasn’t half as bad last time,” She admits with a laugh.

“I’ll make some packets for you to make at home. It’s just ginger and lemon, so it won’t cause any issues in the long run.”

“What would we do without you,” She shakes her head, “Honestly, at this point you offer better medical care than the doctor does.”

You wave your hand dismissively, “Ginger works for nausea, but you need antibiotics for other things.”

“True enough,” She agrees, “I’m so glad that you worked with the village doctor to convince people that vaccines are necessary.” The woman falls silent as she picks up her mug and takes another sip, “Oh, have you heard?”

You glance up from your knitting, “I don’t get much news out here.” You don’t even have a radio, it’s just too depressing.

“Oh, right.” She clears her throat, “Well, rumor has is that there’s a clone working with the Resistance.”

You lower the sweater you’re making, “A clone? As in from the Clone Wars?”

“The one and the same.” She leans in, “You have to wonder where’s he been, right? I mean, all the clones should be dead by now.”

“Not all of them,” You murmur, thinking about Boba Fett on Tatooine and the Skirata Clan on Mandalore, “but most of them.”

“Can you imagine having been alive when they were all over the place?” She leans in like she’s sharing a secret, “My grandmother says that they were all incredibly attractive.”

A small smile lifts your lips, the memory of Kix leaning against the wall next to you as he whispers future plans in your ear drifting to the front of your mind for a moment, “Well,” You reply as you lift your sweater, “Jango Fett was an attractive man, or so they say.”

The conversation cuts off there, as her son pokes his head out of the storage, “Miss! I can’t reach the seed bags.”

“Alright, I’m coming.”

But, even as you head towards the shed, you can feel the stirrings of hope in your heart. Maybe, just maybe, Kix is still alive.

“You’re really good at this,” Fin says cheerfully as he sits on a table and watches Kix work, “Like, you’re not even looking.”

Kix pauses from where he’s assembling a rifle, and shoots the younger man a look, “Would you have to look to assemble it?”

“No,” He shrugs, “But I was a Stormtrooper.”

“And the Stormtroopers were based on the Clone Troopers.” Kix reminds him, as he snaps the last piece into place, “But would it kill you to teach Rey and Poe about weapon maintenance?”

“Probably.” Fin replies, “I’m still working on teaching Rey that showering daily is a thing she can do.”

“You should probably leave that to Leia...uh, General Solo. Sorry.”

Fin makes a face, “She’s easier than dealing with Poe, honestly. You know he uses a grease rag to wipe sweat off his face?” The younger man sounds genuinely aggrieved about that fact.

“That’s what grease monkeys do, Fin. That hasn’t changed in the last 50 years, and it probably never will.”

“If your brothers tried to clean their face using a grease rag, would you let them get away with it?”

“Hell no. I’d kick their asses. But you’re nicer than me.” Kix sets the newly assembled rifle down on the table, and picks up the next one. This one is actually clean, probably one of Fins.

“Can I ask you a question?” Fin asks, after a moment of silence.

“Sure, but I might not answer.”

“Right, right.” He pauses and shifts uncomfortably, “Do you miss them? Your brothers, I mean. And your old General?”

Kix pauses, and then he sighs, “You know, you’re the first person to actually ask.”

“Yeah, well...you’re kind of intimidating.”

“I miss them everyday.” Kix says with a tired smile, “The General, my General, wasn’t the man he turned into. I never knew the man he became. I wish Luke and Leia had met the man I knew.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” Fin hesitates, “Actually, I have another question.”

“Yeah?”

“Does it make me a bad person for missing my...my brothers too?”

At that, Kix sets the rifle he’s been messing with back on the table, “You mean the soldiers you were raised with.”

“Yeah. We weren’t...weren’t brothers, not like you and your brothers. But I lived with them. Trained with them. Spent every waking moment with them—”

“Blood doesn’t matter so much, in the long run, Fin.” Kix interrupts, “And anyone who tells you that you’re a bad person for missing your family? They’re not worth your time.”

“But—”

“And if they continue, send them to me. I’ll set them straight.”

“...you know you’re actually terrifying, right?”

“Good.”

The two former soldiers fall silent for a moment, and the Fin speaks, “So...did you have a girl, before?”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“You did! What was she like?”

Kix sighs, “She was…kind. Warm. Good.”

“Have you reached out to her?” Fin asks, and then he pauses, “Oh, right, 50 years. She’s probably a grandmother now.”

Kix laughs softly, “No. No she wouldn’t be. But no, I didn’t. I don’t even know where she is. She’s always preferred a nomadic life.”

“You must miss her?”

“I miss a lot of things, Fin. If I had to stand here and list them all, we’d be here all day.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re curious. That’s not a bad thing.” He smirks, “Just really kriffing annoying.”

Fin laughs, “Thanks, that’s my superpower.”

Kix flashes a small smile, “You know, you’d have fit right in with my brothers, Fin.” And his grin widens as Fin ducks his head bashfully.

Fin might not be a vod but he’s pretty damned close, in Kix’s opinion. And, for now, that’s good enough.

And so, time moves on, and Kix slowly adjusts to the modern time, and the similarities...as well as the differences.

Then, early one morning, General Leia Solo stops him while he’s on his way to the shooting range. She has an odd look on her face, “Kix,”

“Ma’am?”

It’s hard to look at her and not see Anakin and Padme, so Kix tries not to look at her when she talks to him.

“You have a visitor.”

“...I do?”

“Yes, you were asked for by name.” She watches him for a moment, “Follow me.” She leads him through the base, and then stops in front of one of the receiving rooms far away from the war room. “In here.”

“Thanks,” Kix replies, waiting until she leaves before he pushes open the door.

He knows who she is the moment he sees her.

She looks the same, after all.

Well, her hair is a little longer, and her clothes look like they’re handmade, rather than store bought.

But it’s still her.

“Cyare?” The pet name falls from him without his permission as he steps into the room properly, and allows the door to shut behind him.

She turns to look at him, and for a moment she just watches him, and then a smile lifts her face. The same smile he fell in love with all those years ago. “Kix, you’re actually here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I—” He trails off as a lump forms in his throat, “Cyare, I’m sorry I’m late.” He swallows around the lump, “I got lost.”

Her smile widens and she moves closer to him, stopping only a couple of inches away from him, “It’s okay,” She reaches up and brushes her fingers against his jaw, “The road has a lot of twists, and you showed up eventually.”

“I just...I really wanted to marry you, cyare.”

“Do you no longer want to?” She asks, her voice light.

“Of course I do. But...it’s been fifty years—”

Understanding crosses her face, “Oh, you silly man. I would have waited forever for you to come back to me.”

She moves a little closer to him, until her chest is pressed against his, and her other hand comes up to press against his cheek. Kix can’t help himself from cradling her face as well, wanting—needing—her as close as possible.

“You still love me?” He asks.

“I never stopped.” She replies.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

Kix presses his forehead against hers, she’s smells of something vaguely floral, and he has a million questions he wants to ask, but he can’t seem to get a single one to form, “I missed you so much.” He says instead, “Even when I wasn’t aware, on some level I still missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She whispers, “Every second of every day, I missed you.”

“How did you survive?” Kix blurts, “Palpatine—”

“—Never knew about us.” She reassures, “We remained hidden, and safe.”

“Good. That’s—that’s good.” Kix didn’t even realize that had been weighing on him, but now that he knows she’s safe, he finds himself leaning heavily against her, “Cyare?”

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?”

And a laugh falls from her pretty lips, “Of course I will, Kix. I love you, after all.”

@heidnspeak

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[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings Chapter Masterlist - Complete

Clone medic Kix is a man displaced in time. Captured by Separatists and put into cryostasis when he learned the truth about the clones' inhibitor chips, he awakens fifty years after the end of the Clone Wars. The Republic is gone. The galaxy has changed. And now, the last clone trooper searches for answers with the help of a New Republic historian.

Overall Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged)

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Warnings: fluff, angst, and smut

Total word count: 46k 51k

Join my tag list here

Chapter list below the cut!

🍋 denotes explicit content 🍋

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

🍋Chapter 7 🍋

Chapter 8

🍋Chapter 9🍋

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

🍋Chapter 14🍋

🍋 Epilogue🍋

🍋 “Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!” 🍋 - a spooky, sexy one-shot sequel.

[arcsimper5]

Omg omg so...

I am IN LOVE with Martyrs and Kings by the amazing @dystopicjumpsuit, it is such a perfect fic, Maree is a beautiful and wonderful OC and the entire thing is just perfection! (link here, if you haven't read it, please, please do, your life will be better for it).

And I recently had an idea for a one shot spin off (following on from the most recent addition, the Halloween special of Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES which is also amazing and should be read!) and approached the amazing author to ask if I could write it, and the below is the result!

It ended up a lot longer than I thought it would, but I hope you all enjoy it, and thank you again to the amazing @dystopicjumpsuit for allowing me this opportunity!

Without further ado, I present:

Marching On

Post Stasis!Kix x Maree (OC)

Rating: Mature (mentions of death, grief, memory loss/dementia, major character death, swearing, minor threat)

Warnings: this is ANGST IN PURE FORM. I cried writing this. You may cry reading this. I apologise.

Summary: Kix gets the chance for closure at long last, though it may come from an unexpected source.

A soft humming stirred Kix from his sleep, an annoyed groan leaving his lips as the soft light of Maree’s lamp flooded his vision, his eyes fluttering against it. Burying his head under the covers, he frowned at the gentle laugh she let out, one of her hands coming to rest on his head over the covers, fingers drumming softly.

“Good morning to you too,” she chuckled softly, Kix responding with another annoyed grunt.

“W’s the time?” he murmured thickly, daring to peek over the duvet, wincing again at the light.

“Early,” Maree sighed, her other hand occupied with a datapad, bottom lip worried between her teeth as she scrolled through one of the documents. “Go back to sleep if you want, love.”

Kix sighed deeply, resigning himself to being awake as he shuffled up against the metal headboard of their bed, blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes. Tucking the covers under his arms, he let out another sigh, shuffling closer to Maree and slinging an arm over her waist, just above the barely there swell of her stomach.

Still feeling nauseous?” he asked softly, fingers moving to trace the beginnings of her bump through her nightdress, the sensation drawing a fond smile to her lips.

“Not too bad,” she admitted, “got woken up by a comm and kind of got caught up in some research.”

“Hmm?” Kix hummed curiously, “What kind?”

Maree let out another sigh, one that morphed into a yawn, her body pressed against Kix’s warmth as he pulled her closer, peering at the datapad.

“Could be something, could be nothing,” she murmured, the hesitation in her voice giving Kix pause, “but it’s interesting nonetheless.”

Grunting, Kix sat up a little more, opening his arms and drawing Maree onto his chest, relishing in her smile as she accepted the offer gratefully, pressing a kiss to his exposed sternum as she shifted, practically curling up in his lap.

“Let’s hear what’s got my love all caught up at…” he glanced at the time, “kriffing hells, cyare, what happened to our lay in?”

“Sorry, love,” Maree giggled, pressing another kiss to his chin in apology before scrolling back to the start of the report, images and text flashing by. “You remember when we were at the archives on Coruscant and you mentioned Clone Force 99, and the child they took with them when they defected?”

Kix stiffened a tiny bit before drawing in a deep breath, nodding as he processed her words.

Waiting until she was sure he was okay for her to continue, Maree dragged another soft kiss over the stubble on his chin, silently reassuring him until he nodded gently, ready for what came next.

“Well I really was fascinated by it, the whole squad, in fact. And the child… Well it seems that she may have been an unaltered clone, similar to Boba Fett. And yet, the records of her are sparse at best. She may have been held at a secure Imperial compound for some time, Mount Tantiss, but the only records that exist on that are ones relating to a clean up operation after an attack by the Rebellion.”

Kix’s interest piqued as he saw the reports listing a few CT numbers he recognised, hovering his hand over the pad, asking silent permission. Maree handed it over without hesitation, watching cautiously as he scrolled slowly, his breath hitching. 

“Rex was there,” he mumbled, his throat constricting a little, “and Gregor… kriff, I think I only met him once at 79’s. He was a Commando. Echo… that’s no surprise, he was loyal to Rex, wherever he went, Echo would have followed…”

He continued reading, frowning at the redacted details.

“It says the rebellion stole some ‘assets’. What could that mean?”

Maree sighed deeply, sitting up a little more, one of her hands moving to thread through Kix’s hair as he continued to read.

“Clones, probably,” she murmured, the sadness in her tone not lost on Kix. “After the rise of the Empire, the clone army was slowly decommissioned. A lot of them went AWOL, others were taken to train TK troopers, their replacements, but most just… disappeared. It was like they just vanished. A handful were officially retired, but the records end after that.”

“Kriffing hells…”

Kix’s face was contorted with anger, Maree tugging his hair a little, keeping him in the moment.

Over the months they’d spent together, she’d come to know his tells, the way he moved and reacted when things got overwhelming for him. 

The motion kept him grounded, his lips parting to draw in a sharp breath, hands trembling as he handed back the datapad.

“You okay?” she questioned gently, Kix nodding a little too fast. It was easy to forget that what was history for her could so easily have been Kix’s life.

“I… I will be,” he breathed, giving her waist a small squeeze. “Knowing Rex was there, actively fighting… I guess part of me wishes I had been too.”

Maree’s chest constricted, Kix leaning down to give her a reassuring kiss.

“Though I can’t say I’m sad to have been bought here, to you.”

The reminder was pointed, Maree smiling as she met his lips, more grateful than ever of his thoughtfulness.

“I love you,” she smiled softly, Kix returning the gesture, dark brown eyes sparkling with adoration when he met her gaze.

“And I love you. Forever.”

Maree giggled softly, pressing another kiss to Kix’s head as she drew the datapad out of his hands, scrolling down a little more.

“So, as well as all this, I had Brosna take on a little research project, and he got a hit on an outer rim planet. It seems that the child Clone Force 99 took with them when they defected, might still be alive. And if she truly is an unaltered clone…”

Kix took a moment to process, his heart skipping a beat.

“She’d biologically be my sister.”

The realisation sent him reeling. Since the moment he’d come round from his stasis sickness, he’d resigned himself to being alone. His brothers were all long dead, every connection broken and shattered by the Empire’s time in power.

And yet now… Now he had Maree, a child of his own on his way, and a genetic sister.

“I want to meet her,” he decided aloud, eyes stinging with unshed tears as he met Maree’s gaze, his hand absent-mindedly running over her stomach. “I want… I want to meet her. If she was with Clone Force 99, with Rex? She might know more about what happened. She would have known Echo. I… I might be able to get some answers.”

Maree hesitated for a moment, caught between the comfort of Kix’s hand on her stomach, gently rubbing over the swollen flesh, and the distress in his voice. She remembered all too keenly what had happened after the revelation around Jesse’s fate back on Coruscant, barely suppressing a shiver at the memory of him leaving in the middle of the night.

Dropping her datapad to the bed, she laced her hands with his, taking a deep breath before leaning in, brushing her lips over his, nodding slowly.

“Kix…. Love… I… I just don’t want you getting too invested in this. We don’t know what she’ll be like, or how old she is. There might not be… well… she might be older than we think. She might not remember…”

She sighed, squeezing his fingers, unable to meet his intense gaze even as she felt it boring into her.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I couldn’t… It’s selfish, but I… I don’t think I could cope with you leaving again. Not now. Not when…”

She didn’t even realise tears were leaking from her eyes until one ran down her chin, dripping heavily onto the back of her hand where it laid, interlaced with Kix’s over her stomach.

Wiping her face furiously, she felt shame and sadness run over her, shaking her head.

“Maker, I’m sorry,” she sniffed, blinking away more tears, “it’s these damn hormones, and…”

“Maree…”

The call of her name finally brought her gaze back to meet Kix’s, his eyes searching hers as he turned her towards him, sinking down until he was face to face with her once more, his free hand moving to cup her face. As his thumb ran over her cheek, swiping away the trail of tears, she forced a weak smile, one he returned.

“I am not leaving you ever again,” he reassured her firmly, taking a shuddering breath as he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. It was an intimate action she had become used to, a sign of affection used by clone troopers and Mandalorians, lost to time until now, and every time it happened, she felt a pleasant shiver run through her. “Especially not now,” he finally continued, closing his eyes.

His own tears were falling now, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“I would never risk this, us, for anything. I just… I need to know. I want to… to say goodbye. As ridiculous as it may sound.”

“It’s not ridiculous at all,” Maree reassured him thickly, tilting her head to brush their lips together once again, “and I will not pretend I even begin to understand what you’ve been through. But if this will help you… If this is what you want? We’ll go. I’ll get the coordinates, and we’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

It was little more than a whisper, but those two words held so much pain, so much hope, so much longing, that it caused Maree’s heart to constrict again.

“There’s still a few more hours until the day-cycle starts,” she breathed, kissing him lightly once again, tossing her datapad onto the floor beside the bed as she snuggled back into Kix’s hold, relishing his scent. “Let’s get some more sleep.”

“Now there’s a plan,” Kix smiled softly, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, his hand still laced with hers over her stomach as they drew the duvet back over themselves, cocooning their bodies off from the world once again. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Maree yawned, giggling as Kix kissed her nose, contentment and warmth surrounding her as they drifted back to sleep, a thousand possibilities of what their next step would bring dancing through their minds.

*-*-*

Pabu was beautiful, Maree decided very quickly upon disembarking the Stinger.

After very little persuading (and only a little arguing), Kix and Maree had embarked on their fact finding mission with Reveth, Quiggold and Ithano in tow, insistent they tag along in case of any ‘unwanted attention’, and definitely not for the fact that one of the main attractions of the island was the perfect weather cycles.

That had definitely not piqued the crew’s interest. And Reveth had definitely not bought her bathing suit.

Fortunately, the moment they exited the ship, the demeanour of everyone changed for the better, Kix grinning as he looked around at his shipmates.

Quiggold had shed his omnipresent cloak the moment the sun had hit his skin, the humidity from the ocean surrounding the picturesque town soaking into him, his energy higher than any of them could ever remember it being.

“What a delightful place!” he remarked happily, inhaling the salty scent of the sea as he stood clad in his shirt and shorts, feet twisting onto the ground as if feeling the rhythm of the waves. “I must visit the beach! It’s been far too long since I’ve indulged in a salt scrub.”

“Don’t go traumatising anyone, will ya?” Reveth chuckled, though the awe in her eyes as she looked up at the massive tower behind where their shuttle had landed was undeniable. “What do ya think is in there?” she breathed, almost to herself. “Something valuable, I’d bet!”

“Try not to tick off the locals before we’ve even left the landing pad, Rev,” Kix pleaded teasingly, the twi’lek rolling her eyes and mock saluting.

“Like I would,” she huffed, “I’m a charmer, me.”

Ithano let out a soft huff of laughter, Kix staring for a moment before shaking his head again, looking back to Maree, his breath catching in his throat as he went to speak.

The sunlight filtering through the massive tree above them danced over her, illuminating her hair and features, the effect almost angelic. Wide eyed, she glanced around the square, her simple white blouse and loose khaki cargo pants perfect for the weather, which she seemed to be positively basking in. As she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air, Kix swore he fell in love all over again, the gentle slide of her hand over her bump, a seemingly unconscious action making his heart stutter in his chest.

“Hello? Kix? Are you even listening to me?”

Blinking as Reveth stepped in front of him, waving her skeletal metal arm in his face, Kix shook his head, crashing back to reality as the twi’lek eyed him suspiciously.

“What?” he finally answered obliviously, Reveth rolling her eyes at him.

“I said ‘what’s the plan’? You have any idea where this sister of yours is?”

Kix blinked a couple more times before shaking his head, their mission slinking back into his mind with startling clarity.

“Uh, no,” he admitted a little sheepishly, grateful when Maree moved to join the conversation, Ithano caught between listening and eyeing one of the local taverns that sat just off of the square. “We, uh… all we got was a location.”

“We could always ask around?” Maree suggested brightly. “I’m sure there must be someone around who remembers a group of clones and a child arriving here, even if it was fifty years ago. Tales like that don’t just fade out.”

“Did you say ‘clones’?”

A small voice caught them unaware, the group splitting to get a look at their little eavesdropper, a small, dark skinned child with thick, black curly hair pulled up by a golden accessory and wide, chestnut eyes gazing up at them in amazement.

Kix looked to Maree for a moment, lost at how to respond, watching as she bent down on one knee, bringing herself to the little girl’s eye level, smiling kindly.

“We did!” she grinned good naturedly. “We’re looking for information about some clones that would have come here a long time ago, probably when your mother was just a little girl.”

Reveth folded her arms as she regarded the child, unsure.

“You sure this isn’t some kind of trick?” she hissed to Ithano, who simply shrugged, sharing a look with Kix.

“Who would be trying to trap us here? This place is remote as remote gets.”

The twi’lek huffed, frowning at the small girl.

“I still don’t like it.”

“There haven’t been clones here in aaaaages,” she grinned dramatically, “but my gramma Phee might know!” the girl exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on the heels of her cork sandals, twisting the hem of her white and blue embroidered dress as she looked up at them wide eyed, “I can show you her house! She used to fly in a ship, and she knew a lot of people.”

“Sounds like as good a place as any to start,” Maree mused, wincing as she stood from crouching, Kix immediately by her side, worry written over his features. “Just stiff,” she reassured him, looking back down to the little girl, who was now beaming. “I’m Maree, this is Kix, Reveth and Ithano,” she introduced them quickly. “What’s your name?”

“Ad’ika,” the girl smiled back, Maree shooting Kix an odd look when his grip on her hand tightened, his smile fading quickly. “Follow me!”

With a skip in her step, she darted down the stone brick street, the slope steady and well worn.

Reveth huffed as she and Ithano quickly made to follow the child, Maree smiling in reassurance to the twi’lek as she nodded to Kix with a questioning look, silently reassuring her he was okay.

“Kix?” she prompted softly, “What’s wrong?”

“That’s not her name,” he murmured lowly, eyes narrowing for a moment before he marched off after his crew mates, practically dragging Maree along with him, confusion consuming her thoughts.

“What? What do you mean?” she asked, gasping as she almost tripped on one of the steps, Kix slowing his pace just a little. 

“Ad’ika. It’s mando’a. Clone language. It means ‘little one’ or ‘child’. That’s not a name.”

“So Reveth might be right?” Maree gasped, eyes widening in fear, “This could be a trap?”

“A trap for who though?” Kix thought aloud, looking at the corner Ithano and Reveth had rounded hesitantly, drawing to stop and turning to Maree, pressing a hand to her shoulder.

“I don’t like this at all,” he admitted quickly, eyes darting around, keeping a keen eye on their surroundings. “You should head back to the ship. I’ll find the others and round them up. Lock the ship until we get back. Even if I do have a sister, putting you at risk isn’t worth it.”

“So… It’s true then…”

Another, unfamiliar voice caught them unaware, Maree practically yelping as Kix shoved her behind him, shielding her with his body as a figure emerged from the end of the street, the shuffling of feet preceding their arrival.

Despite all of his misgivings, Kix let his guard down a little as an older woman, easily in her late sixties or early seventies, emerged, dressed in an intricately patterned blue and green tunic and shorts, a necklace of seashells adorning her neck.

Her hair was tightly curled and grey, pulled back into a loose ponytail, her face round and welcoming, but her eyes were shrewd and sharp, searching Kix’s face with an intensity unexpected of her age.

“Maker… I haven’t seen that face for years,” she sighed, stepping further into the light, taking in Kix’s features, and the way his hand hovered over his blaster. “No need for all that,” she chuckled, nodding to his blaster, “just can’t be too sure in these parts. Plenty of folk come looking for the Clone memorial looking to make a quick buck on relics they left behind. That, and we keep an eye on pirates round these parts.”

Kix’s eyes widened, mind whirring as he put the pieces together.

“Where are you taking them?” he snapped, hand resting on the holster of his blaster, “If you hurt them…”

The woman laughed loudly, the sound echoed by some small, green furred creatures in the trees above her, their mimicry turning into happy chittering in short order.

“You’re very jumpy, aren’t you? Your friends are at Phee’s, where she’ll feed them, water them and tell them a thousand stories from her time as a pirate,” she grinned, Maree leaning around Kix to get a better look at the woman.

“There’s a clone memorial here?” she asked, Kix moving his hand away a little, allowing her to step next to him.

The woman nodded, eyeing her up and down for a moment. She made no attempt to disguise the way her gaze lingered on Maree’s stomach, or the way Kix’s hand rested protectively over it.

“Come with me,” she smiled, “there’s someone you should meet.”

“And why should we trust you?” Kix growled lowly, Maree taken aback by the hostility in his voice, though she agreed with the sentiment.

As the woman turned, she flicked her hair and laughed, sharp eyes locking with Kix’s before she began to move.

“Because I was here when Clone Force 99 arrived.”

*-*-*

“Lyanna, I swear to the Force, if you’ve bought those tourists here again, I’ll…”

The occupant of the house the woman led them to instantly froze the moment she laid eyes on Kix, the glass decanter in her hand falling onto the tile floor and shattering into a thousand pieces.

Her features were instantly recognisable, Maree inhaling a sharp breath as they lingered at the door, Lyanna rushing forward to help the other woman clean up, even as she stared in shock, familiar brown eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“It’s… that’s… not possible,” she breathed, her short, greyish white curls ringing her face as she began to cry, Lyanna quickly abandoning the now full dustpan and brush to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry, ‘Mega. I know I should have warned you, but you know how quick word spreads…”

“It’s… it’s fine,” she tried, swallowing hard as she took a tentative step towards Kix, the medic reaching back for Maree once again, unsure.

“It’s her, love,” she murmured into Kix’s ear, nudging him forward, down the steps into the tiled kitchen, “it’s your sister.”

Kix blinked a few times, recognising his brothers in this woman; the nose, the eyes, the tight lips.

She was one of them. A clone.

“W-Who are you?” she stammered, searching Kix’s face, lingering on the barely visible edges of his tattoo for a moment, “How…”

“Kix,” he managed after a moment, the name barely gasped, “My… My name is Kix.”

“Kix,” she repeated, as if saying his name too loudly might scare him away, a smile breaking through the uncertainty on her face. “Echo told me about you, from the 501st… You were their medic… You… I’m Omega. I… I’m your…”

“Sister,” Kix finished for her, taking a step forward to meet her, the word bringing more tears to his eyes. “I know.”

Omega let out a sob, practically launching herself forward with a speed unbecoming of someone of her age, wrapping her arms around Kix, hugging him tightly.

After a moment of surprise, he let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, releasing a shuddering sigh into her shoulder as he hugged her back, tears streaming down his face too.

“I thought we were the last ones,” Omega sobbed into him, squeezing even tighter before she released him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “He’s going to be so happy to see you!”

Omega’s gaze moved up to Maree, her smile widening as she gestured her forward, meeting her in a hug as well, names exchanged as Kix looked back at Omega, confused.

“Who?” he breathed, confusion making his head spin. Every one of his brothers would have been dead… Who could possibly be left?

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

*-*-*

Even before he could make out the facial features of the man sat in a chair at the end of the small garden of Omega’s house, his gaze locked on the expanse of ocean beyond the cliffs below, Kix recognised the stark outline of a scomp in place of a right forearm and mechanical legs crossed over one another, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Echo,” he croaked, the figure turning towards him a little too slowly, sunlight spilling over his face as he rocked back in his chair to find the source of the voice, confused.

“Fives?”

Kix’s heart broke a little, another soft nudge from Maree sending him forwards, stumbling over his own feet as he made his way towards his long lost brother, practically falling to his knees in front of him.

“Echo,” Kix repeated, crying in earnest, uncaring now, “it’s me. It’s Kix.”

“Kix…” Echo chuckled softly. “I knew a Kix once. Great medic. Cheated at sabacc like a mother-kriffer. He went missing, just after… after…”

Realisation seemed to cross Echo’s face as his eyes refocused, settling on Kix’s face.

The medic took in the sight of his brother, the thinning grey curls on his head, the ports from his time with the Techno Union still present and sunken now, wrinkles and lines littering his skin. And yet, he looked… content. Relaxed. As if he was just another old man enjoying his retirement in a sunny paradise, not a veteran of the Clone Wars.

His armour was long gone, replaced with soft cotton fabric, a tunic and shorts in white and blue, still holding onto the memory of the war. 

“Kix?” Echo whispered, leaning in a little closer. “Is… Is that… Is it really you?”

“It’s me, vod,” Kix sobbed, reaching out for Echo’s flesh hand, clutching at it. The skin felt loose and wrinkled, but it was him, and it was real, and Echo was alive and here with him. “It’s me.”

Maree watched on with tears running down her face as Echo let out a cry of his own, practically falling out of his chair to hug Kix, the two of them sobbing and holding each other as years of pain and loneliness slipped away from them, clutching at each other like a lifeline.

“H-How?” Kix gasped as Omega moved forward, helping him to his feet and offering him a chair at the table opposite Echo, the two of them smiling through the tears now, barely contained euphoria flooding through them. Omega draped a blanket over Echo’s shoulders, the cyborg giving her a fond smile in return, and she drew up two more chairs for her and Maree, watching curiously as Kix reached for his lover’s hand, twining their fingers together for comfort.

“Techno Union bastards,” Echo chuckled coldly, shaking his scomp at Kix before sighing, spinning it around slowly. “Wanted to make good on their ‘investment’.”

Kix frowned in confusion, looking to Omega, who reached across the table and slipped her hand into Echo's, squeezing it in comfort.

“The Techno Union altered his DNA to remove the accelerated ageing gene that the Kaminoans deliberately implanted in all Clones during creation,” she smiled weakly. “Seems that they didn’t want a short term project with Echo.”

“The Techno Union?” Maree asked quietly, Kix nodding.

“Echo was held by them after he was left for dead at the Citadel on Lola Sayu during a rescue mission gone wrong. They gave him the cybernetics and used him as an algorithm to fight against his own brothers until Clone Force 99 freed him on Skako Minor.”

“You mean…” Maree’s eyes widened as she looked over Echo, taking in his implants and frail frame, the slightly lighter tone of his skin, his features visible even under the years of living he’d done, “he’s… He’s the Hero of Annaxes?”

“Annaxes?” Echo perked up suddenly, grinning ear to ear, “Yeah, fried all those kriffing clankers. Boom!” He let out a throaty laugh. “Wrecker used to say that. Boom! Blew them all up.”

He hesitated for a moment, looking to Omega, his expression falling a little.

“Is Wrecker home yet? It’s getting dark. You know how Hunter worries…”

Maree watched as Omega’s expression turned pained, a smile forced through the hurt as she nodded, squeezing Echo’s hand.

“Wrecker’s fine,” she reassured him thickly, swallowing hard. “He’s waiting for you. Remember?”

“Waiting…” Echo repeated, his gaze falling to his hand where it joined with Omega’s, nodding slowly. “Waiting. With… With Fives…”

Suddenly his eyes flickered back up to Omega’s face, his expression turning fond.

“You’ve grown up so much, ‘Mega,” he sighed, tapping her fingers with his own. “When did you get so tall? You look after us so well. What would we do without you?”

Kix’s heart broke a little more as Omega fought back tears, smiling through the distress, simply squeezing Echo’s hand back fondly.

“Gotta look after my little brothers,” she teased, Echo laughing loudly for a moment before it morphed into a cough, a mechanical wheezing coming from his chest.

Behind them, Lyanna appeared with a wheelchair, nodding to Omega, who helped Echo to stand.

“Come on, ori’vod. Time to get you inside in the warm,” she sniffed, Lyana smiling reassuringly as Echo transferred easily into the chair, readjusting the blanket and grinning at Omega.

“Love you, little ‘Mega,” he chuckled softly. “Oh, and tell that Kix… Tell him… Rex… yes… Rex. He was looking for him.”

“I will, Echo,” Omega smiled sadly, nodding to Lyanna as she took him inside, closing the door behind them.

Immediately, Maree was out of her chair, wrapping her arms around Omega, who broke down against her, sobbing hard.

“I, I’m sorry,” she stammered as the two sat down together, Omega desperately trying to dry her face with her hand, “It’s been… It’s been a long time since we spoke about the others, and… the last few years, his cybernetics have been… I’ve done my best, but Tech always used to… he used to do it, and I…”

Maree shushed her gently, looking up at Kix, the grief on his face apparent.

He was too late. Echo was all but gone, his last brother worn away by time and old age. And for a moment he was angry. Not at Echo, but at himself. 

At least one of his brothers had gotten to live a long, happy life, retiring to paradise, and yet he had the audacity to be angry at that? That he wasn’t young enough to remember Kix?

No. He’d lived an entire, full life after the War, like every brother should have. That wasn’t something that should be mourned.

“Kix, are you okay?” Maree asked gently, reaching for his hand as Omega settled back into her chair, drying her tears.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, he forced a smile, nodding.

“Yeah. It’s… It’s just a lot,” he admitted, looking towards Omega. “How long do you think he has?” he managed, swallowing hard.

Omega shrugged, laughing at herself.

“Hours? Days? Weeks?” she shook her head. “Tech would be so disappointed in me for guessing. The truth is, I don’t know. He just seems like… Like he’s been waiting for something,” she sighed, looking at Kix with a frightened expression.

“Can I talk to him?” the medic asked softly. “I promise I won’t say anything that’ll upset him. I just… I’d like to hear his stories.”

“He’s got more than enough of them,” Omega sighed, nodding. “I’m going to turn in soon. You’re welcome to stay too,” she directed to Maree, who nodded in thanks, meeting Kix’s gaze.

“We should probably comm the others before they launch a full on siege looking for us,” she chuckled, Omega’s eyes widening a little. “Don’t worry,” Maree reassured her, “they wouldn’t get far. Not for lack of trying, though.”

The woman laughed, shaking her head.

“Sounds like the Batch back in the day. I’d like to meet them. I’ll comm Phee. Echo’s room is on the ground floor, first door on the left,” she informed Kix, who nodded, standing up from his chair and dropping a soft kiss to Maree’s head before heading inside, making for his brother’s room.

“How did he survive?” Omega asked Maree after Kix had disappeared inside, her gaze a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

“He found out about the chips,” Maree sighed softly, looking back towards the house, “and the Separatists found out about him. Captured him, tortured him, and locked him in a cryo-stasis chamber. That ship crashed, and fifty years later, Ithano and his crew found him and took him in.”

“That was nice of them,” Omega remarked, the statement said without malice or sarcasm, simply a genuine remark. “And you? How did you and Kix…”

“He came looking for answers,” Maree smiled sadly, “when I worked on Hosnian Prime. I studied the Clone Wars as a speciality subject. When he came to me, I assumed he had a Clone for a father, or grandfather. But as things went on…”

They sat together in silence for a time as the sun began to set and the night drew in, the beginnings of stars twinkling in the sky.

“Would you like to see the memorial?” Omega asked suddenly, breaking Maree’s reverie. “I usually go down just after dark to see them.”

Maree hesitated for a moment before nodding sagely, the weight of the offer not lost on her.

“If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Omega smiled, a youthful energy seeming to overtake her, “it’s down by the pier. It’s beautiful at night. We made sure they had one of the best spots, after everything they did for us.”

“Will you tell me?” Maree prompted, excited at the prospect of learning about this lost piece of history from an era she thought she knew so well.

Omega simply grinned, gesturing for her to follow.

*-*-*

“Echo? You awake?”

Kix crept into the room quietly, greeted by a soft grumble, his lips tilting up into a smile.

“Briefing’s not til oh-eight hundred,’ Echo grumbled, ‘g’back to sleep.”

Kix let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head as he moved to sit on the end of the bed, noting Echo’s prosthetics laid out neatly on the floor next to it.

Tucked up to his neck by a thick duvet and a handwoven blanket, he looked utterly relaxed, his eyes fluttering.

“I know, Vod,” Kix offered gently, “I just wanted to check in on you.” “Thanks, Kix, but I’m fine. Same ol’ aches and pains. They’ll go.” “One day,” Kix finished for him with a grin, Echo returning it softly.

“How are the others?” Echo murmured, sitting up as much as he could. “I heard Jesse became an ARC.”

“He sure did,” Kix smiled sadly, the lump in his throat returning, “but hey, what about you? I want to hear all about your missions with the Batch. Omega said you guys got up to some crazy stuff.”

Echo seemed to zone out for a moment, his eyes searching Kix’s. Not finding what he was looking for, his smile returned quickly, chest shaking with laughter as he shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe half of it,” he huffed, Kix shuffling closer, giving Echo his full attention.

“Try me.”

“Well,” Echo smirked, making him look years younger as mischief flashed in his eyes, “there was a time, we had to get some crates from a nest of Aggrocrabs…”

*-*-*

Omega hadn’t been lying, Maree mused to herself as she looked over the calm ocean waves, the reflection of stars sparkling across the tiny waves that lapped at the shore.

“It really is beautiful,” she whispered as she took in the serene beauty of the stone statue of a clone trooper, obviously lovingly hand carved from stone, standing in pride of place over the small pier just below.

At the base, flower rings and candles littered the floor, handmade ornaments and coins from all over the galaxy.

“After the Clone Rebellion, a lot of them came back here,” Omega explained softly, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. “They’d lost so much, but what they had, what we all had left, we gave to Pabu. We built homes, families, but not quickly enough. The accelerated ageing caught up with them, and…”

Her breath hitched in her throat, an apologetic smile gracing her lips.

“There are over two hundred clone troopers here,” she explained quietly. “We cremated them, and they were scattered on the beach. This is a place where we come to remember, where we can be close to them again.”

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she let her memories flow, more tears falling.

“This was my second real home. The first was the Marauder, our ship. But when we came here…”

As she opened her eyes, Maree watched the play of emotions over the older woman’s face.

“Tech would take me flying over the island, giving me lessons. Wrecker built the sea wall almost single handedly, and Hunter would help with rebuilding the houses and hunting for food. They loved it here. Until… The Empire…”

She trailed off, looking back out to sea.

“They’re gone now,” she sighed deeply, “and Echo saw all of them go, one by one. He felt so guilty about outliving them, even though it wasn’t his fault.”

Maree nodded, her stomach twisting a little.

“I think Kix feels the same,” she admitted with a sigh. “He woke up thinking he could still save his brothers, save the Republic. It’s taken him a long time to accept that he couldn’t. I just hope speaking to Echo helps him. He deserves happiness, he’s been through so much.”

Omega’s smile softened as she looked Maree over, her gaze lingering on the slight swell of her stomach.

“It seems like he’s found that with you,” she offered softly, turning back to look at the Memorial. “You know, after we found out Echo wasn’t ageing as fast as the others, I tried to find a cure for them. We did so many tests, taking DNA samples, comparing mine, Echo’s and every other clone we could find. The Techno Union databanks were all purged, and there wasn’t much left of the Kaminoan’s research…”

She trailed off as Maree joined her in staring out into the ocean.

Kix’s lifespan was always going to be shorter than hers. She knew that when she committed herself to him, and it wasn’t something she tried to dwell on too much. But knowing Omega had seen so much of it, that they’d tried… Something inside her broke as she ran her hand over her stomach, emotions welling inside her.

“It’s not fair, what they went through,” she sobbed, tears blurring her vision. “Even now, Kix can’t escape it. The war ended fifty years ago, and he’s still suffering.”

Turning into Omega as the older woman wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she sobbed hard and harder, mourning for a future that hadn’t even come yet. They had more years left together, she knew, but it was all going to end too soon.

“It’s not fair,” she choked out again, shaking her head. “It’s not,” Omega agreed plainly, grabbing Maree’s hand and placing a small data stick into it, their eyes meeting as Maree looked down at it in confusion.

“Wha…”

“It’s not fair,” Omega repeated thickly, “but this can change that.”

Maree’s heart skipped a beat or two as she stared, wide eyed at Omega, trying to process what she was saying.

“I… I don’t understand…”

With the moonlight dancing over her face, Omega suddenly looked so much older. She looked tired, the years finally taking their toll. Drawing in a long breath, she forced a smile, meeting Maree’s gaze with a familiar intensity.

“I figured it out too late for most of them,” Omega sniffed, more tears rolling down her cheeks, “but it gave Hunter and Wrecker a few more years, at least. But for Kix… He’d age normally. No dying too young. No accelerated ageing. You can grow old together. The way it’s meant to be.”

Maree stared at the datastick in her hand, her mind stalling, forgetting how to breathe for a moment.

“You… You did it?” she croaked, looking back to Omega, hope blooming in her chest, “You stopped it?”

“I did,” Omega cried, “and finally, I can help someone with it. You and Kix can be together properly, not rushing, not scrambling to live a full life in half the time you should have. I… I owe the others that.”

Unable to do anything else, Maree clutched at the datastick and hugged Omega tightly, the two of them sharing their grief and their hope.

“Thank you,” Maree gasped eventually, her heart swelling with emotion, “I… I can’t put into words how much this means. Thank you!”

“Just take care of my brother,” Omega sniffed, her voice cracking, “they love so intensely. He’ll never let you down.”

“I will. I promise you.”

*-*-*

By the time Omega and Maree made it back to the house, it was silent and dark, both creeping down the hallway to look in on Echo’s room, their hearts warmed by the sight that greeted them.

The brothers were laid next to each other in the small bed, their foreheads pressed together as they slept. The soft mechanical whirring of Echo’s cybernetics didn’t seem to bother the medic, his face completely relaxed in sleep, Omega sighing as she watched them.

Gesturing silently to Maree, they backed out of the room, sharing a warm smile. Their family was safe and content, and they could ask for nothing more.

After Omega showed Maree to the spare room, bidding her goodnight and laughing softly as Maree fell into the plush mattress, relishing in how soft it was, Maree pulled out her comm, checking it idly as she pulled her hair loose and placed the ties onto the bedside table, giggling to herself at some of the messages.

Of course, there were several from Reveth, all sorts of colourful language used, the text becoming less and less legible as they went on and becoming more in depth about how awesome this ‘Phee’ was.

Ithano had only sent two, one stating they were ‘fine’ and the other reading ‘try the beer’.

Maree let out a snort of laughter as she stripped her clothes off and hung them on the chair on the far side of the room, slipping under the duvet with a deep sense of satisfaction, scrolling through the last of the comms.

Quiggold had only sent one, and to their group message at that; a holo of himself stood on the sea wall, wet with sea water and smiling toothily. It seemed he was having the time of his life, and Maree was glad that the at times uptight Gabdorian had finally been able to let loose.

With another deep sigh, she set her comm to the side and settled into the comfortable bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep. Whatever the morning brought, she knew they would be okay. 

*-*-*

The next day was a busy one.

Before anyone had even woken properly, Ithano, Reventh and Quiggold appeared at the front door with the child who had led them away the day before and an elderly woman with warm, dark skin and thick grey curls hung with golden coils in tow, their laughter audible from the end of the street.

Maree heard the door go and the familiar voice of Omega greeting them, soon followed by the smell of cooking meats and the strong scent of coffee. It was too tempting, and she soon found herself washed, dressed and heading downstairs, eyes softening as she bumped into Kix at the foot of them, supporting Echo to hobble to the kitchen.

“Morning,” he smiled gently, Maree returning the gesture, nodding to Echo, who was eyeing her with interest.

“Well hello,” he chuckled throatily, “nobody told me we had such a radiant visitor to our home! Kix, is this your girl?”

The medic flushed brightly, nudging Echo gently in a show of faux displeasure as he sighed, looking Maree over, his gaze full of adoration.

“Sure is,” he grinned, “definitely worth the wait.”

Maree flushed brightly, leaning in to peck his cheek before making way for the two of them to pass, Echo grinning toothily at her.

“We should take her to 79’s,” Echo chortled, Kix smiling sadly, “show her off. Jesse and Fives will be so jealous.”

Kix simply laughed, nodding.

“They will, vod. I know they will.”

“Gotta find me a nice girl too,” Echo hummed happily, grinning, “though did I ever tell you about Riyo? Pantoran senator I worked with, the most amazing tits…”

“Echo!” Omega chastised him as she brought a plate of fried meat and eggs over to the table, rolling her eyes, “Child present!”

“Oh, sorry, sprout,” he chuckled sheepishly, winking at Omega as he settled at the table with Kix’s help, Maree shaking her head fondly as the other woman met her gaze, huffing. “Phee! You made it!” he exclaimed suddenly, looking at the elderly woman at the end of the table, her smile matching his. “Is Tech with you?”

Phee simply laughed softly, a sadness permeating her very presence as she shook her head, sighing.

“Hey Echo. No, he’s… away,” she smiled weakly. “We’re all going to meet up soon. Promise.”

“Good, good,” Echo nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Miss that nerd.”

“Gramma, what’s a nerd?” came a little voice from beside Phee, the little girl from the day before tugging at her gold and red robe, wide eyes staring up at her.

Maree couldn’t help but smile at the little girl as Kix pulled out a chair for her, helping her to sit before dropping a soft kiss into her hair, pulling it back over her shoulders where it still hung loose.

“A nerd is a clever person, someone who is really good at computers, like your grandpa Tech,” Phee explained calmly, stroking the little girl’s curls as she smiled down at her.

“Oooh,” the girl nodded, thinking hard, “like Revy?”

“Hey!” Reveth protested, Maree watching with curiosity as the twi’lek grabbed the little girl, tickling her sides and picking her up, drawing shrieking giggles from the child as she struggled and wiggling in her grip, completely unbothered by the presence of her robotic arm. “I told you, squirt, I’m a slicer. Not a nerd!”

Ithano watched with interest for a moment before turning to look between Kix and Maree, nodding to them both in greeting.

“There is nothing wrong with being technologically fluent,” Quiggold interjected, Reveth rolling her eyes as she placed the child on the ground again, winking at her as she ran to take her own seat at the far end of the table, waving to Maree. 

The easy banter continued over breakfast, Omega’s smile growing as she listened and laughed, coming to sit next to Maree, Lyanna arriving shortly after the meal began with some fresh rolls from the bakery a few streets away, divvying them up between the gathering.

Kix watched with an amused smile as Maree broke one of the rolls open and inhaled the scent of the freshly baked bread, eyes fluttering closed as she hummed in contentment.

“Enjoying yourself?” he teased, Maree frowning good naturedly at him.

“It’s been far too long since I had fresh bread,” she lamented as Omega passed her the butter, a generous serving scooped into the fluffy inside of the roll, beginning to soften immediately. “I used to live near this wonderful little bakery until a pirate came and swept me off my feet and dragged me into a life of adventure.”

“Oh?” Kix queried smugly, “I hope he was worth it.”

“Definitely,” she winked, giggling as Kix leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her head, the two sharing a moment while the conversation flowed around them.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Phee asked from the head of the table, eyes fond as she watched the interaction between Maree and Kix, grinning as Echo’s attention turned to her, his eyes bright.

“I think I’d like to sit in the garden again,” he grinned happily, “Wrecker’s plants are growing in nicely, right ‘Mega?”

“Who’s Wrecker?” Reveth asked with a mouth full of bread, earning her a sharp elbow from Ithano, remaining stoic even as the twi’lek growled in response.

“Wrecker,” Echo laughed, “my vod. One of my vod. Big guy, can’t miss him.”

Kix let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head.

“You know I watched him lift an entire gunship on his own once?” he grinned, Maree’s eyes widening with shock. “Just threw it like it was a dumpster.”

“Really?” Phee chuckled lightly, tilting her head to one side as Kix nodded.

“Oh yeah, picked up my brother like he was nothing as well. Wouldn’t have wanted to be on his bad side!”

Omega giggled, the sound almost foreign, Echo turning to beam at her as she did.

“He taught me how to disarm bombs too.”

“He what?” Kix spluttered in disbelief, Maree hiding her mouth behind her hand as she tried not to laugh at his reaction. “But you were just a kid!”

“Hey, I’m still older than you, vod’ika,” Omega reminded him sternly, her face softening into a brilliant smile. “You should have seen Hunter’s reaction when he taught me how to twirl his knife!”

“Now, this is a story I can get behind,” Reveth smirked, Ithano leaning in to listen as Quiggold pulled out his datapad, seemingly making notes as Omega smiled at Echo, the old clone nodding in encouragement, settling in for the story.

“Well we’d just finished a mission on Jakku, and we were heading back to the ship when I saw Hunter spinning his vibroblade and asked him if I could try…”

*-*-*

The day sped by all too quickly.

Even when breakfast was long finished, the group remained at the table, listening to Omega’s tales of her brothers, Echo adding in his own memories when he could as the crew of the Stinger listened in amazement, Kix explaining some terminology when they were unsure.

He was equally amazed by the tales, by Omega’s bravery, even as a child, and of the group’s loyalty to each other.

When it came to the parts where Echo left to help Rex with the Clone rebellion, he was utterly unsurprised, smiling proudly at the determination Echo still showed, his own pride in his actions apparent.

The stories continued as they spilled into the garden, the bright midday sun beating down on them as Lyanna and Omega cleaned up and got lunch ready, blankets and chairs laid out and even the sofa moved into the garden by Reveth and Ithano to accommodate such a big group.

Phee took her turn as well, telling stories of her adventures with the Clones, of their treasure hunts gone awry, of bringing them to Pabu, and how she’d fallen for Tech.

By the time they were done laughing, eating and reminiscing, the sun was beginning to set on the horizon.

One by one, Phee and her little grandchild, then Lyanna left, only the crew of the Stinger remaining with Echo and Omega, Ithano, Reveth and Quiggold moving inside as the temperature began to drop.

With blankets drawn around them, Maree and Kix sat with Echo and Omega, listening as Echo recounted tales from the 501st, much to Omega’s delight.

Kix’s cheeks were hurting from laughing so hard, Echo’s voice rough from speaking for so long, dried tears of joy on both of their faces.

“And the time Fives replaced the blue paint with neon pink, and Rex didn’t even notice because we’d sabotaged the caf machine!”

“I don’t know how he coped with you two,” Kix chuckled, Echo nodding, his memories flowing as they reminisced.

The last beams of sunlight began to disappear over the horizon as their laughter faded, leaving them in a comfortable silence,  Echo’s body heaving with the occasional laugh, the sound of his cybernetics so much louder than Kix could ever remember.

“He had a soft spot for us after Rishi,” Echo explained simply, waving his hand. “After we lost Cutup and… and… oh, what were their names? Hev… Hevy? And… and…”

His focus seemed to fade, eyes glazing over as Omega placed another blanket around his shoulders, his hand coming up to pat hers as he smiled lazily up at her.

“Do you want to go inside?” she asked softly, the old clone shaking his head, settling further back into his chair.

“No, I’m alright,” he replied firmly, reaching for her hand and squeezing it again, none of them missing how he was shivering. “I’m enjoying this. Catching up. Seeing my brother.”

“As long as you’re warm enough,” she grinned, looking between her brothers, “you’ve had a lot of catching up to do.”

Echo nodded sagely, his chest rattling loudly as he drew in a sharp breath, frowning.

“‘Mega… Can you get Tech? Think that my… my pipes need some work again.”

Kix met Omega’s gaze with a sympathetic expression, not missing how she winced at the name, sighing as she knelt down in front of him, holding his hand in hers.

“Tech’s a bit busy at the moment, Echo,” Omega explained gently, “but I’ll make sure he pops by later.”

Echo huffed, frowning as he shifted to look at Kix, his eyes widening a little in recognition.

“Kix… Rex was looking for you!” he smiled, the medic’s heart aching.

“I know, vod,” he reassured Echo, reaching to place his hand over Omega’s, reassuring her silently..

“He sent us out looking for years,” Echo chuckled softly, “we looked everywhere. You just vanished. I always said you’d be okay.”

Drawing another deep, rattling breath, Echo beamed at Kix, his face relaxing.

“You’re okay, Kix.” Tears spilled over the medic’s face as Echo nodded, confident in his own words. “You’re okay.”

Kix’s breath hitched as he shifted closer to Echo, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

In a way, he knew.

Echo was slipping away. 

Like one last hurrah, their reminiscing seemed to have drained him, his eyes fluttering as Omega let out a broken sob, leaning up to stroke through his curls as he smiled gently, the whirring of his cybernetics beginning to slow.

“Omega,” he called in little more than a whisper, “little ‘Mega. You’re so brave. So strong. Love you, ‘Mega.”

“I love you too,” she sobbed, leaning in to kiss his forehead. Echo relaxed back into the chair, his breathing slowing. “I love you so much, Echo.”

“Hunter was right,” Echo grinned weakly, “better than all of us. Take… Takin’ care of me…”

With another shuddering breath, Echo reached for Kix’s hand gently, his strength fading.

“Hey… ‘m g’na see Fives,” he slurred the lights on his headpiece beginning to flicker dimly, “and… my… our vod.”

Kix nodded through his tears, grief wracking his body.

“Tell him he’s the bravest idiot I know, and he and Jesse had better save me a seat,” he laughed wetly, Echo chuckling in return.

“Oya, Kix,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling once more before it seemed to stutter, his eyes closing, lips falling lax as every muscle in his body seemed to relax all at once, his final breath drawn.

The whir of his cybernetics faded to complete silence as the lights on his headpiece blinked for the last time, fading to nothing as his body shut down, his head lolling onto his chest, his soul finally free.

“Oya,” Kix sobbed, “Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.”

As he fell to the floor, Kix embraced Omega, the two of them sobbing into each other, tears soaking each other’s shoulders.

He was finally at peace, back with Fives, back with the rest of the Batch. And they were no longer alone. And yet it still hurt more than they could express, nothing but sobs and hitched breath between them as Maree knelt next to them both, drawing them into a joint embrace, shedding tears of her own for her family.

*-*-*

The funeral was a small affair. Exactly how Echo would have wanted it to be.

A simple service, Kix giving a eulogy punctuated by anecdotes about their time together, a tribute to how special Echo had been. Omega finished the service with a poem of her own making, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked over her family and friends, Phee’s face shining with tears, surrounded by her own family as she nodded encouragement, a communal farewell to someone who was quite obviously adored.

As numb as Kix felt, he concentrated on the feel of Maree’s hand in his, squeezing and reassuring throughout the short service, her nudge of encouragement appreciated as Omega offered her hand to him, the two of them moving to the end of the pier with the urn containing Echo’s ashes.

With both of their hands holding it, they shared a nod before opening the lid and tipping it towards the sea, the contents caught by the wind, drifting through the air towards the open ocean.

He watched with a soft smile as a sudden gust of wind tore through the bay, seeming to seize the ashes and lift them higher and higher, twirling in what could only be described as a playful manner, creating a beautiful swirling pattern as it rose into the sky.

A warmth settled on his skin that had nothing to do with the balmy sunlight, instead, a weight seeming to lift from inside him as he let out a choked laugh, tears spilling over.

“Fives,” he sobbed quietly, “that has to be Fives.”

Omega simply smiled and nodded as she placed the urn at their feet, lacing her hand with Kix’s as they gazed upward, watching the last of Echo’s mortal form vanish.

“They’re together again,” Omega smiled through her grief, leaning into him a little, “they’re all together again.”

As the crowd dispersed, the crew of the Stinger remained by the memorial at the pier, lighting candles in memory of Echo, Reveth and Ithano sharing their own stories with Phee as Quiggold educated the nearby children about his species, many of them curious.

Kix drew Maree onto one of the benches nearby as Omega laid down one last offering at the shrine, her breath hitching with sobs as she placed Echo’s scomp delicately at the base, the appendage leaning against the worn stone in a place of honour.

Next to the scomp, a small box remained, one she picked up tenderly and opened, coming to sit next to Maree, grateful for her embrace as they all shuffled together.

“This is all I have left of them now,” she murmured sadly, picking a worn piece of red fabric from the box, what seemed to be a bandana. The colour was faded, a white skull painted onto the front almost grey from old age. It was tattered and well loved, Omega stroking lovingly over the skull before placing it back in the box, next retrieving a pair of battered goggles.

Again, she stroked over the metal rim, smiling to herself as she remembered her adventures with her brothers.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get long with him,” she directed to Kix, sniffing as she closed the box, the memories too much for now. “If I’d known…”

“I got to say goodbye,” Kix murmured through his tears, “and that was all I could have asked for.”

Omega nodded, silently standing and returning the box to the memorial, her eyes lingering on Echo’s scomp, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“He was happy,” she sighed, turning to face Kix and Maree again, looking between them, “he was really happy. He loved it here, and everyone loved him. And I hope that… I hope that this gives you at least a bit of closure,” she managed, turning her attention to Maree, “and if you’re looking for somewhere to settle down for a while… as a parent… there’s no finer place to raise a child.”

Kix swallowed hard, meeting Maree’s gaze as his hand slipped over her stomach, his smile returning as he felt over the swell of it, frowning when he felt something sharp in her pocket.

“What’s that?” he asked curiously, Maree’s eyes widening.

In all of the goings on, she’d forgotten about Omega’s gift.

Tentatively pulling it from her pocket, she placed it in Kix’s palm, the datastick seemingly insignificant. Confused, Kix tilted his head slightly in silent question, Maree’s own tears welling up again.

“Omega gave it to me,” she explained quietly, biting her bottom lip. “She figured it out. The cure, I mean, for your accelerated ageing. We can stop it. We can build a life, a proper one. No rush, no fighting for time. Just us. The three of us.”

Kix stared at the stick in his hand for a few long moments, processing the information.

This tiny little thing was going to change his life. Give him more time with Maree, give him more time with his child.

One last gift from his brothers and sister.

“I… I….”

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Maree reassured him gently, closing her hands over his, cradling the stick, “but… mmmph!”

She never got to finish her sentence as Kix caught her lips in a passionate kiss, his free hand wrapping around the back of her neck, holding her close.

“I don’t need to think,” he murmured against her lips as they broke apart, tears escaping as their gazes met once again. “I know what I want. And I want this.”

Omega could only smile as she headed back to the house, memories flowing through every step.

For so long, she’d been so scared she’d be alone. And yet, now she had discovered another  brother, another family.

And for once, Hunter’s declaration to her when they’d first settled on Pabu made sense, her throat constricting as she reached the house, running a hand over the stone next to the front door, a familiar scrawl from her childhood memorialised permanently in the duracrete, along with five handprints of various sizes, long worn deeper by the weather.

‘A home is not a home without the people who make it.’

“Welcome home,” she murmured as she re-entered the house, smiling to herself as a familiar warmth flooded through her.

They’d never truly be gone. She’d never be alone.

[wizardofrozz]

OC Introduction

I finally decided to make a reference sheet for my oc in my current wip To Be Free. (technically this is kind of an introduction to this fic as well lol) 

*the very quick art is mine*

Name: Nali Bosac

Nicknames/Codenames: Red, GZFC45426 (slicer code)

Species: Zeltron

Time Period: First Order/Resistance Era

Birthplace: Zeltros

Age: 28

Gender/pronouns: female, she/her

Occupation: Slicer for the Resistance

Myers-Briggs’ Type: INTJ - The Mastermind

And because I have no self-control and I’m excited, here’s a little sneak peek of To Be Free 🫣

         Nali sighed through her nose, sneaking a look at Mak over the top of her cards. His face was wrinkled in concentration, eyes trailing over his cards for the thousandth time as his free hand traced the shape of one of his dark horns. This was why she fucking hated playing sabacc with him.

         “Maker above, Mak, I’m gonna keel over before you take your turn,” she groaned, flopping over the back of her chair. 

         “Hey, I don’t rush you, now do I?” he countered primly. Nali groaned again, reaching up to scrub at her face, pressing her cards against her forehead. Mak hummed quietly and she had the urge to kick him in the shin until the soft rumble of Ren’s voice caught her attention. Ren’s office was large enough that they could sit at the small table in the corner opposite his desk and struggle to hear his conversation if he wanted privacy. Ren’s soft greeting piqued her interest and she let her hands fall away. Even from her inverted view, there was no mistaking the blue-tinted holo of General Organa. 

         “Okay, go ahead,” Mak cut in, sounding pleased with himself.

         “Shh,” Nali snapped, sitting up fast enough to make her head spin. She twisted around in her seat, pulling one leg up as she very obviously eavesdropped on the meeting taking place. The general’s back was to her but she’d become an expert on reading Ren’s lips over the years. 

         “Wonder what she wants?” Mak mumbled, leaning across the table and making it groan quietly under his weight.

         “Poe told me Leia sent him to pick up someone interested in joining,” Nali explained, squinting at her adopted father figure. She definitely didn’t jump when clover green eyes darted in her direction. Mak hummed in acknowledgment, blatantly staring at the conversation taking place; the pair shared a look when the general’s head turned slightly. She looked…amused from what they could see of her face, however, when the feed cut off, Ren didn’t look very happy. 

         “You two are insufferable,” Ren grumbled, leaning back in his chair and untangling a knot in the fur under his chin. Nali tried to arrange her face into something resembling guilt but Ren knew it was a facade. “You know, there are certain things that you two may not be allowed to know.”

         “‘Course,” Nali chirped, sliding off her chair and making her way across the room to perch on the corner of his desk. Mak followed close behind, dropping into the chair opposite Ren. “You just never tell us to leave.” Ren rolled his head in her direction, pinning her with an unimpressed look that only made her smile. 

         “What’s goin’ on?” Mak asked, folding his hands behind his head.

         “General Organa asked me to keep an eye on someone,” Ren explained, rubbing at one of his bloodshot eyes. Nali wondered how long it had been since he’d actually slept in his bed.

         “Why?” the Devaronian pressed, his forehead wrinkling.

         “The new medic,” Nali realized out loud, looking to the old Bothan for confirmation. “Makes sense; we’re on base regularly. Well, at least Mak and I are so she wants us to show him around, right?”

         “Him?” Mak hummed and Nali didn’t like the glint in his eyes when he turned his head in her direction. He grunted when the toe of her boot landed between two of his ribs, one large hand immediately coming down to cover the area.

         “Kids, play nice,” Ren said absently, already preoccupied with something on his datapad. 

         “Wonder if he’s cute?” Mak mused, holding out a hand to protect himself when Nali pulled her leg back to kick him again. “Who told you about him?”

         “Probably Dameron,” Ren cut in, side-eying Nali.

         “You two are like catty Jawas,” she hissed, rolling her eyes. Ren shrugged but she didn’t miss the way his snout wrinkled with a half-smile; Mak on the other hand unabashedly shot her a toothy grin. She really hated them sometimes.

         “Are you gonna greet them at the landing pad?” Mak teased. Nali immediately bristled, baring her teeth; she took a tiny bit of pleasure when the bulky Devaronian shifted in his seat. For some reason, she loved the big idiot too much to ever actually hurt him but knowing he was at least a little scared of her almost made her smile.

         “Calmak,” Ren warned with a sigh. 

         “I’m just wondering!”

         “No, you’re picking on her,” Ren huffed, pressing his knuckles into one of his eyes. 

         “That’s what brothers are for,” Mak chuckled, nudging Nali’s leg with the toe of his boot. She turned enough for him to see her eye roll but it only made his smile grow wider. Asshole.

         “Well it’ll be a little while before Dameron’s back with our new mystery medic,” Ren informed, blowing out a harsh breath through his nose. He sucked in a clean breath and propelled himself to his feet; Nali and Mak bit back their smirks when he groaned, reaching for his lower back. “Get out of my office, fuckin’ laserbrains.” 

         “Old man,” Mak and Nali chorused, although they sounded far too fond for it to be an insult. Ren grumbled under his breath, playfully bumping into Nali as he moved past her and she leaned into him, forcing him to stop or let her tip off the edge. Ren huffed and puffed about dealing with the pair constantly but they knew deep down that the old Bothan cared more than he wanted to admit. Ren made a familiar growling sound, one Nali knew was meant to be affectionate, and she smiled to herself. Nali was pushed forward slightly by Mak’s extra weight when he leaned against Ren’s other side.

         “Love ya, old man,” Mak sighed, resting his chin on the top of Ren’s furry head.

         “Yeah, yeah, love you both too,” Ren grumbled but Nali could hear the warmth in his voice. She leaned heavily against him and let herself enjoy one of the few moments of peace in their hectic lives.

A/N: Even though he isn’t in the snippet above, this is a Kix/OFC fic that includes two of my other OCs Calmak (Mak) Jemman and Ren Fay’limi (Nali’s found family). This fic has been consuming my thoughts for so long and the fact that my writer’s block is in full swing is killing me 😭

[freesia-writes]

aaaaaahhhh you made the armor look so amazing!! This would be how he looked in Martyrs and Kings by @dystopicjumpsuit!

Last clone standing 🥲

[sweetcream-coldfoam]

FIC RECS. (STAR WARS)

[updated 2/16/2025] posting this list now so it'll stop sitting idly in my drive. please read all warnings on individual fics. you are responsible for the content you consume!

✦ for NSFW/18+

THE BAD BATCH.

✧ touch starved by @nahoney22 [ tbb x reader ]

✧ two faces by @stellarbit [ tbb x f!reader ]

✧ flower sniping by @jedi-hawkins [ crosshair x f!reader ]

✦ sharp edges by @spicy-clones / @lightwise [ crosshair x f!reader ]

✧ don't call me flower by @dragonrider9905 [ tech x reader ]

✧ dork love by @starqueensthings [ tech x gn!reader ]

✧ tech & vel by @freesia-writes [ tech x oc ]

✦ just friends, right? by @nahoney22 [ tech x f!reader ]

✧ sweet thing by @starrylothcat [ wrecker x f!reader]

✦ stars beyond number by @dystopicjumpsuit [ gregor x oc ]

THE CLONE WARS.

✧ ad'ika by @toska-writes [ platonic fives x padawan!reader ]

✦ i yearn and so i fear by @enigmaticexplorer [ wolffe x oc ]

✦ soulmate series by @mandos-mind-trick [ various ]

✦ the popsicle by @rinwritesfics [ fives x reader ]

by @dystopicjumpsuit:

✦ martyrs and kings [ post-stasis kix x oc ]

✦ double, double, boil and trouble [ boil x reader ]

✦ the sixth language [ waxer x reader ]

by @wanderinginksplot-writes:

✧ warriors in red armor [ corrie guard x ocs ]

✧ now boarding [ 501st x f!readers ]

✧ kix + competence

✧ hardcase + “is that seriously your password?”

✧ rex + “is that how you flirt with everyone?”

OTHER CLONES.

✧ gar cabur by wanderinginksplot [ alpha-17 x f!reader ]

✧ the delta's jedi by @vodika-vibes [ fixer x jedi!reader ]

AUTHORS & TBR LIST.

[ masterlists to binge & fics i want to read when i get back into the fandom ]

@dystopicjumpsuit @wanderinginksplot-writes @freesia-writes / @spicy-clones @nahoney22 @starrylothcat @toska-writes @vodika-vibes

✧ hunter and the librarian by @clonethirstingisreal [ hunter x oc ]

✧ beyond the shadow of a doubt by @freesia-writes [ hunter x oc ]

thanks for stopping by! ❤︎ please let me know if anyone would like their fic removed from this list!

(this list has legit been sitting for months, and i figured it would have way more use posted here than it would somewhere forgotten on my laptop—even if it’s just for me!)

[freesia-writes]

Originating from this post, I'd like to offer a list of longfics featuring TCW/TBB characters for those of you looking for some good reads! Feel free to drop any others into my asks! Fics are general audience or PG-13 unless noted "Mature" at the end.

The links are mostly to the post with the authors' descriptions so you can get a better idea of what each one is about!

Crosshair

Sharp Edges - @spicy-clones and @lightwise - Crosshair x F!Reader - Mature

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy - @badbatchposts - Crosshair x OC plus Batch/others - Mature

When the Order Fell - @victimofdavefiloni - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Caught in the Crosshairs - @silverwings22 - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Half-Moon Glow - @moonstrider9904 - Crosshair x OC; TCW AU - Mature

Roasted, Brewed, and Served with Attitude - MelMorganne99 - Crosshair x OC in Modern Police AU

It Never Rains - @letsquestjess - Crosshair x OC

Sunflowers and Blasters - @523rdrebel - Crosshair x OC

Only What Burns You Back - @the-little-moment - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Tech

Tech and Vel - @freesia-writes - Tech x OC

Song of the Sea - @silverwings22 - Tech x Alien OC - Mature

Tech as a Father - @missfrieden - Tech and Batch

Gravitation - @moonstrider9904 - Tech x OC AU - Mature

Meltdown - @autistic-artistech - Tech x OC - Mature

Brother, Hold Me Up - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch, Others - Mature

The World Goes Cold - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch - Mature

Hunter

Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt - @freesia-writeswrites - Hunter x OC

Hunter and the Librarian - @clonethirstingisreal - Hunter x OC - modern day AU

Sun and Rain - @photogirl894 - Hunter x OC

As Iron Sharpens Iron - @arctrooper69 - Hunter x Reader

Echo

Not Just the Carcass, But the Spark - @the-little-moment - Echo x OC - Mature

Test Subject/System Upgrade - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Echo and the Batch

Rex

Captain's Log - @rexxdjarin - Rex x OC - Mature

Wolffe

I Yearn, and So I Fear - enigmaticexplorer - Wolffe x OC - Mature

The Wolfpack Queen - @reader6898 - Wolffe x OC - Mature

No Strings Attached and Walk Me Home (sequel) - @cyarbika - Wolffe x F!Reader - Mature

Multiple Featured Characters

Rise of the Clones - @AmberOwl24 - SO MANY CHARACTERS!

Stars Beyond Number - @dystopicjumpsuit - Clone Rebellion Echo x Riyo, Gregor x OC - Mature

The Moonwalker Series - @moonstrider9904 - Batch x OC (love triangle then single pairing) - Mature

Line of Destiny: A Series - @ilikemymendarkandfictional - Multiple Stories: Rex x OC, Crosshair x OC, Clone OCs and Howzer

Same Heart - @dumfanting - F!Reader x TCW Echo, then Fives, then Echo/Cross Poly - Mature

Blood Daughter - @letsquestjess - OC + Bad Batch Adventure 

A Lupe of Faith - @lonewolflupe - Jedi!OC x Fives, later x Hunter - Mature eventually

Stronger Together - @cloneflo99 - Rex/Crosshair x OC - Mature

Other Clones

Quantum Entanglement - @freesia-writes - Howzer x OC

Martyrs and Kings - @dystopicjumpsuit - Post-Stasis Kix x OC - Mature

The Only Exception - @starqueensthings - Howzer x OC - Mature

Disillusioned - @amberskyyking - OC + OC Clone Squad Adventure - Mature-ish

The Helmeted Hunter - @jedimasterlenawrites - Boba Fett x F!Reader - PG-13

Children of Providence - @ladysongmaster - Din Djarin, TCW Characters Adventure

The Last Word - @ariadnes-red-thread - Fives x OC

One Step at a Time - @wild-karrde - Clone OC - Mature

Welcome to the Outpost - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Mayday!!

[caramelcorgi]

A few requested clone boy sketches ☺️

Jesse, (post-cryo stasis) Kix, Cody and Bly!

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Kix, my love 🥺

The last clone. Pirate Kix for @techissweet! It's been a while, but here he is! Thank you so much for the request and I hope I understood the request right.

What happened to Kix after the Clone Wars is just so sad. Everyone he knew is dead and the galaxy went to shit big time. Poor guy.

[vodika-vibes]

post-stasis Kix falling for a resistance member who is determined to preserve and archive everything.

A Picture's Worth 1000 Words

Summary: The Empire destroyed so much information when they came into power, information that remains lost to this day. And so, when the First Order started it’s slow creep into power, you swore to yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. That you would remember, even if no one else wanted to.

Pairing: Post-Stasis Kix x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1269

Warnings: None, really.

A/N: Alright, so I kind of took Legends and smooshed it together with Canon. So, I mentioned Jaina and Jacen Solo in the story, but Rey, Fin, and Poe are also mentioned. Kylo Ren doesn't exist, but only because Jacen is right there, and in legends he falls. The Reader, in this case, is a Jedi who was raised at Luke Skywalker's Jedi Academy alongside the Solo twins.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You release a happy hum under your breath as you sit on a stone wall, and flip through the photo album in your hands.

Well, it’s more of a scrapbook, since there are also carefully written blurbs about who the people are in the picture and what is happening. But a scrapbook is even more important than just the pictures. Because it means that there’s context!

And, this is just your most recent scrapbook, you have three others that are safely stored in your room. They’ve also been digitally scanned and saved in seven different locations.

Excessive? Maybe.

But the First Order seems to be Empire-lite, and the Empire destroyed so much history—

You shake your head, trying to physically shoo away the depressing thoughts of the past, as you close your scrapbook with a snap.

This one is done.

All you have to do is scan it in and save it to different places, which you can do before bed tonight, and then you’ll be able to move on to the fifth scrapbook. Or maybe you’ll make something else.

Scrapbooking is expensive, and the Resistance doesn’t exactly pay well. Especially for Jedi like people like you.

“You look like you’re working hard,” A familiar voice rips you from your musing, and your head snaps to the side. A bright grin crosses your face when you see who’s standing there.

Kix.

Formerly a Medic in the Clone Army, and currently a part-time bounty hunter, and someone you’re proud to call your best friend.

“You’re back!” You set the scrapbook to the side and jump to your feet, “How was your mission?”

“Uneventful,” Kix shrugs one shoulder, “Which is how I prefer my missions, to be honest.” He walks over to you and sits on the wall you abandoned, immediately grabbing the scrapbook and flipping it open. “How have things been here?”

“Same as ever.” You sit back on the wall and lean against his side, peering over his shoulder at the book, “Poe adopted a former Stormtrooper. General Solo wants you to talk to him, get to know him. You know.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You reach over and flip a page to the one showing Fin, “Something about how you two might have more in common than you might think.” You shrug, “He’s a nice guy. Told me about how Poe gave him his name. I guess, before now, all he had was a number? FN...something.” You drop your head to his armored shoulder, “Sound familiar?”

“A bit too familiar.” Kix replies wryly, staring at the pictures for a moment, and then he closed the book and glances at you, “What else is new?”

“Mm...Jaina has two new apprentices, Fin and his friend, Rey. She’s thrilled. They’re being mentored by Master Skywalker, at least.” You list off your fingers, “Leia and Han are still hoping that Jacen can be convinced to come back to the light and that he’ll leave the First Order. Oh, and Jaina has recently decided that she doesn’t have a twin.”

“So she’s handling this whole thing like a champ.” Kix says sarcastically.

You shrug, “Avoiding uncomfortable topics seems to be standard practice for the Solo family.”

“And the Skywalker one.” Kix bumps your shoulder with his, “As much as I appreciate the rundown, I was kind of hoping for more on you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. What’s new with you?”

“You know I’m the most boring person to walk on any planet, Kix.” You reply with a shake of your head, “Nothing’s new with me.”

Kix hums thoughtfully, “You know,” He starts, almost absently, “After I was thawed, you were right there with me the whole time. Helping me navigate the new galaxy I came into.”

“Right? Of course. What kind of monster would I be if I let you do it alone?”

Kix smiles at you and lightly taps your forehead, “We’re listening, now.”

You grin at him and make the motion of zipping your lips, before motioning for him to continue.

“As I was saying,” He continues, “I owe you so much. More than I can put into words. But I also know that I don’t offer as much support as I could—” You open your mouth to argue with him, but he presses his hand over your lips, “I’m a bad friend, and I want to make up for it.”

“You’re not though!” You say, your voice muffled by his hand.

“You grew up with the Solo twins,” Kix says flatly, “You’ve known them since you were all in the single digits. You went to the new Jedi Academy together. Has anyone asked you how you’re doing with the Jacen situation?” He asks pointedly.

You recoil without meaning to. “I’m fine.” It’s the same thing you say whenever Jaina asks how you’re holding up. What you say when Master Luke asks if you’re okay.

It’s a safe answer.

Kix doesn’t believe you. It’s written on his face, plain as day.

“Really. Because your nearly obsessive desire to document everything suggests differently.”

“That’s—”

“The First Order isn’t the Empire.” Kix says firmly, “They’re not going to get as much of a hold on the Republic as the Empire did because they don’t have a Palpatine.”

“No, they just have Jacen Solo, the son of two war heroes and the nephew of Luke Skywalker.�� You counter bitterly.

Kix leans back slightly, “And there it is. You know, repressing what you’re feeling isn’t healthy.”

“I’m fine.” You repeat.

“I don’t believe that.” Kix takes your hands in his and squeezes gently, “And neither do Leia or Luke. They contacted me and asked me to come and talk to you.”

Your jaw drops, “They what?”

“They’re worried. Understandably so.” Kix scans your face for a moment, “And so am I.”

You shake your head, “I’m fine, Kix.”

“You’re not, but you will be.” He rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands, and there’s a look on his face that you’ve never seen before, “Luke has asked me for a favor, to go to Tython and see what, if anything, we can learn about the Jedi order. I want you to come with me.”

“...why?”

“A, because I’m not a Jedi and I might miss something, B, I like spending time with you, and C, you need to step away from the Resistance for a little bit.”

“Okay, so first of all. You’ve never missed a thing in your life.”

“Agree to disagree. Will you come with me?”

“You hate sharing your ship with other people.” You point out.

Kix scoffs, loudly, “As if you’re other people. Be serious.”

“You know, at this rate, I’m going to start thinking you’re in love with me.” You reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Would that be so bad?”

Your eyes snap to his face, “Wait, what?”

He just grins at you and jumps to his feet, before he offers you his hand, “You heard me, cyar’ika.”

“You can’t just say it like that!” You sputter, your face burning. “Like it’s something easy.”

“It’s the easiest thing ever.” Kix leans in and takes your hand to pull you to your feet, “Loving you is easy. And I’m done trying to hide it. Now, come on. We need to tell Leia that you’re coming with me.”

“I didn’t actually agree—”

“But you’re gonna.” Kix says smugly.

“...you’re a dick, sometimes.”

“True. And yet, you still love me.”

And, at that, you huff and avert your gaze, refusing to answer him. But then, you don’t have to. After all, you’d follow him anywhere and everyone knows it.

@heidnspeak

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[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!

A/N: I'm so excited to share this spooky, sexy one-shot sequel to Martyrs and Kings! I've been planning this fic for months, and I hope y'all love it. Quick note: obviously, this fic contains spoilers for M&K; however, it was beta-read by my partner who has not (yet) read the original fic, and they said it worked as a stand-alone story, so if you haven't read M&K yet and don't mind spoilers, read on!

This fic is dedicated to the amazing @clonemedickix in gratitude for all the love and support that you've shown me and so many others in the fandom. Thank you so much for everything you do, and particularly thank you for your feedback on the field medicine. You are a rock star!

One final caveat: I am a horror wimp, but I did my best. Please don't expect Stephen King 💜

Pairing: Post-stasis Kix x OFC Dr. Maree Finnall

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 5k (this just made M&K 10% longer lol)

Warnings and tags: peril; suspense; violence; blood and injury; gore; medical procedures; adult language; SMUT; oral sex; face-sitting; Kix activating my competence kink like no other. IMPORTANT: an additional content warning is listed at the end of the fic due to spoilers. If you have triggers, please check the end of the fic for the BOLD PINK TEXT before reading.

Summary: The crew of the Meson Martinet goes after the score of a lifetime and discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Suggested listening:

Martyrs and Kings chapter 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“B1.5-series battle droids are a myth,” Kix said firmly. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The good doctor doesn’t share your opinion,” Quiggold argued.

Sidon Ithano, as usual, said nothing, his crimson helmet swiveling slowly toward Maree. Kix turned to her as well, his jaw set, his eyes full of confidence that she would back him up. Kriff it. She absolutely hated being caught in the middle of this argument.

She cleared her throat. “There’s… some debate in the academic community about their existence, actually. If they ever were created, they were never deployed at any recorded battle—and it’s a good thing, too.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Reeg Brosna asked.

He was sprawled on the bench of the dinette, his arm draped around Orys Brenko as the research assistant perked up immediately.

“Is it true that they used nanodroids to retrofit original B1-series droids?” Brenko asked, his face flushing dark green with excitement.

“That is one theory,” Maree said circumspectly, keenly aware of Kix’s scrutiny. “According to contemporary sources—and noting that those sources are unreliable at best—the B1.5s had significantly upgraded blaster resistance. There was another rumor as well, even less credible.”

“What rumor?” Reveth interrupted, leaning forward over the table, drawing Ithano’s attention subtly.

“They said the B1.5s could keep going even if you blasted their processors,” Kix cut in before Maree could reply. “It was a stupid story the commandos made up to scare the shinies.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Brosna asked. “Indestructible battle droids? They’d be worth a fortune.”

“Even if they don’t exist, the haul from a Techno Union stronghold could set us up for life,” Reveth pointed out. “I say we go after it.”

Squeaky grunted his agreement, predictably. The Gamorrean was always guaranteed to follow the pretty Twi’lek’s lead. Reveth could have suggested a nude spacewalk, and Squeaky would have thought it was a grand idea. Brosna and Brenko voted in favor as well. Kix voted against, and Maree did as well, purely out of solidarity. Privately, she was consumed with curiosity about the B1.5s, and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of such a groundbreaking discovery was alluring in the extreme.

Quiggold voted in favor, and Ithano abstained, and so it was decided: the crew would send a team to scout the Techno Union stronghold, and if they found anything worthwhile, the rest of Ithano’s small fleet would join them.

“We’re gonna need your expertise, Doc,” Reveth said to Maree. 

“Absolutely not,” Kix snapped.

Maree glanced at him in surprise. It was unlike him to try to overrule her choice, and she didn’t care for it. “Reveth is right, Kix. I’ll be able to identify the highest-value items, and I have a good idea of what’s in demand.”

Kix looked away, clearly unhappy, but recognizing that he’d overstepped. “Fine. But if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

“We’ll need you to stay and command the fleet from the Scorpion while the captain is away,” Quiggold interjected.

“Fuck that,” Kix growled. “Brosna is my first mate—he can take command from the Scorpion. When it comes to Maree’s safety, I outrank everyone on this ship.”

“Brosna doesn’t have the experience—” Quiggold began.

“Agreed,” Ithano said, his deep voice cutting through the buzz of conversation and debate in the Martinet’s galley. “Quiggold, command the fleet from the Martinet. Brosna, take the Scorpion. Reveth, Squeaky, you’re with us.”

The captain’s decision was final, and within a few hours, Kix, Maree, Reveth, Squeaky, and Ithano had boarded the Scorpion’s shuttle Stinger and departed for the desolate moon where the Techno Union base had sat untouched for over fifty years.

“Fifty credits says we find nothing,” Kix said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Reveth replied.

Squeaky grunted his agreement. Ithano said nothing.

“Maree, you want in on this action?” Reveth asked.

“Kix and I have a private bet on the side,” Maree said with a mischievous twinkle as Kix shot her an inscrutable look.

Reveth smirked. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” Maree replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of crimson as Ithano moved through the shuttle. On impulse, she leaned in and whispered in Reveth’s ear cone.

Reveth’s eyes widened as her mechanical hand instinctively settled on Maree’s waist. “Damn. You and Kix want a third for that?”

Ithano’s helmet whipped to the side as he suddenly became very interested in the conversation. Maree suppressed a laugh.

“What do you think, Kix?” Maree asked with faux innocence. “Can Reveth play with us?”

Kix eyed her with a perfectly neutral expression that warned Maree he knew exactly what she was up to. “You gotta win that bet if you want to call the shots.”

“You’re on,” Maree replied immediately.

Ithano’s helmet swiveled from Maree, to Reveth, to Kix, and back to Reveth, but he said nothing. Kix merely turned back to the navigation controls and continued to pilot the shuttle toward their destination.

The old Techno Union stronghold was on a remote, swampy moon, and the dense vegetation had grown thickly over the past five decades. Kix was forced to set the shuttle down several klicks from the decrepit base. He didn’t like it. He didn’t kriffing like any of this. It was too far; they’d be too exposed; their progress would be too slow in the mud. He glanced at Maree and felt his anxiety spike.

How the kark am I supposed to protect her out there?

He double-checked her gear as she suited up, adjusting the fit of her holster for a quicker draw. He quickly inspected her blaster before handing it to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “You’re on edge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this mission.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve gone into one of these old strongholds,” she pointed out. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Just… Keep your eyes open.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I know you’ll watch my back. Just like I’ll watch yours.”

He traced his fingertips along her jaw as he pulled her closer to himself. He couldn’t feel her soft warmth through his armor, but her nearness felt comforting regardless. He kissed her gently, threading his fingers through the hair that she wore in loose braids. 

She looked so different now than she had the first time he’d met her two years earlier; her elegant wardrobe replaced with sturdy, practical clothing meant to withstand rough field work and the occasional blaster fight. But underneath, she still smelled like tea and honey and home. She was still the same—still his Maree.

“If you’re finished sucking the lips off her face, can we get going?” Reveth teased. “Droids aren’t gonna find themselves.”

Despite Kix’s misgivings, the trek to the derelict base was uneventful. Squeaky stayed with the shuttle in case they needed a quick extraction, while Ithano, Reveth, and Maree hacked their way through the underbrush along with Kix. It was slow going, and the swamp was creepy as hell, but eventually they made it to the plastcrete and durasteel structure.

There was no power to the base, so they cut their way through the sealed exterior blast doors. Once inside, the group fell silent as they made their way through the dusty, cobwebbed hallways. The base was pitch black inside, illuminated only by their own torches, and once again, Kix felt the simmering anxiety in his gut begin to roil.

“Something’s been living in here,” Reveth muttered, training the beam of her flashlight on a tangle of debris that was unmistakably a nest for something… large.

Kix didn’t respond, but he reached out and pulled Maree closer to himself, then drew one of his DC-17s. Ithano brought up the rear, his blaster rifle ready.

“Control center should be just ahead,” Maree whispered. “Reveth might be able to restore power from there.”

“We’ll be karked if she can’t,” Kix replied quietly.

“Happy thoughts, Kix,” Maree murmured.

Right. Happy thoughts. Spiced biscuits. Unlimited bacta. Maree’s tits. More credits than I’ve ever seen in my life. The Scorpion. Weapons caches. Maree’s thighs. Maree’s thighs on my shoulders. Maree’s thighs framing my face while she rides—uh, weapons caches.

“Control center,” Reveth called under her breath as she reached a sealed doorway.

They pried it open enough to squeeze through. Kix went first, sweeping his light across the room as he scanned for threats. Reveth followed, then Maree and Ithano. Reveth headed straight for the control console and plugged in her small power unit and began to fiddle with the controls.

“Happy thoughts,” Kix mumbled, returning to the doorway to keep watch over the pitch-dark corridor.

Within a few moments, Reveth let out a quiet, triumphant huff as the control console flickered to life, dimly illuminating the room. She went to work immediately, interfacing her datapad with the ancient console.

“Damn. Main power cells are depleted,” she said. “I’ll try to at least get emergency lighting turned on.”

“Why would the power be depleted if the base has been abandoned for decades?” Maree asked. “The Techno Union had extraordinarily advanced power cells that were capable of storing energy far longer.”

“Unless something used it,” Reveth said.

Kix swiveled his head to stare at the Twi’lek.

“Like what?” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Dunno. But we might find out as soon as I get the data decrypted.”

A distant, deep hum sounded, and red light flickered on throughout the base.

“Nicely done,” Maree told Reveth.

“Let’s get the data and get the kriff out of here,” Kix growled, hating every minute of their time in the farking spooky base.

“Working on it,” Reveth snapped. “Think you can do it faster?”

Ithano glanced between Kix and Reveth, then moved to join Kix at the doorway, blaster rifle raised. “What is it?”

“Not sure,” Kix replied quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Ever reticent, Ithano merely nodded and took up position across from him. Kix nodded in silent gratitude that the pirate captain didn’t question his instincts. Then again, the Crimson Corsair hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his gut. 

Kix’s eyes darted to Maree again. She leaned over the console, scrolling rapidly through the data files, searching for any hint of the information they sought. He turned back toward the hallway, his eyes scanning it watchfully.

“No kriffin’ way,” Maree gasped.

“What?” Kix and Reveth demanded in unison.

“You just lost a bet, my love,” Maree told Kix.

“Wait, really?” Reveth asked. “It’s real?”

“‘Project Ophio,’” Maree read, her voice low and hurried. “Principal investigator Vamb Tebrem. Project number T327H1138X99. Primary focus of study is to develop experimental NM-K reconstitutors with the purpose of enhancing the durability and combat acumen of extant B-1 series assets…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to the console, flicking through the data hurriedly. “Project director reported a 62% success rate in the initial efficacy trial; however the experimental reconstitutors were prohibitively expensive to manufacture, and the unpredictability observed in field tests was not adequately resolved—what field tests?”

“You catch any of that?” Reveth asked Kix.

He shrugged. Maree’s voice had dropped to an inaudible murmur as she scrolled through the data, then opened another data file. A quiet chime sounded from the console, drawing Reveth’s attention.

A glowing hologram appeared over the console: wave after wave of battle droids locked in combat a group of clone commandos who should have been able to easily defeat the B-1s. But the droids just kept going. Nothing could stop their advance as they overwhelmed the commandos’ positions and tore them to pieces. Kix swallowed hard, hearing the screams of the dying commandos, unable to take his eyes off the hologram. Maree slapped a button on the console and the sound paused abruptly as the holo froze.

“Holy kark,” she breathed.

“What?” Reveth asked. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Kix said grimly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Uh, about that…” Reveth said.

Ithano swiveled his head toward the Twi’lek. “What?”

“Opening that holofile triggered an alert in the system,” Reveth said. “Hopefully it’s nothing?”

“Time to go,” Kix growled.

“Yeah,” Maree said, her voice shaky. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“At least let me download the records,” Reveth argued, jamming a data spike into the console.

They all froze as a distant but unmistakable crash echoed through the base, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

“What is that?” Maree whispered.

“Clankers,” Kix said grimly, drawing his second blaster. “Seal the blast doors.”

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Reveth objected.

Maree stared at Kix. “Can’t we make it out before—”

A light flashed, and her body jerked as a blaster bolt smashed into her. She went down hard, and Kix barely had time to register what was happening before a firestorm of blaster bolts exploded into the room. He whirled back to the entrance and returned fire at the wave of battle droids that was advancing at high speed toward his position. Ithano was firing as fast as he could, but the droids weren’t dropping.

“Get those kriffing doors sealed!” Ithano bellowed.

Reveth had ducked down behind the console for cover as Maree scrambled to join her out of the line of fire. Reveth frantically worked the controls from her position on the floor, but she wasn’t fast enough. A single droid made it through before the doors slammed shut. The clanking and pounding of the army of droids battering against the blast doors was deafening. The lone battle droid charged across the command center.

“Kill it!” Kix shouted. “Fuckin’ kill it!”

Reveth, Ithano, and Kix unleashed a torrent of blaster bolts, but the karking thing wouldn’t go down, even as its components began to fail and fly off its body. It was headed for the console. It was headed toward Maree. Desperately, Kix launched himself at its mangled, skeletal form, tackling it as he locked his arms around and tore its head off with a sickening screech of twisting metal.

But the fucking thing kept moving, shambling toward the console. Kix growled and yanked out his vibroblade, slashing through the droid’s joints until nothing remained but a pile of scrap, and then he sprinted toward Maree, launching himself over the control console. 

“Maree!” Kix yelled hoarsely.

Her face was sweaty and contorted with pain as she clutched her hand around her upper arm, but she gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right.”

The blaster hole in her jacket sleeve was still smoking, and Kix felt sick as he saw blood covering her hand, oozing from a wound that should have been cauterized by the plasma bolt. 

“Let me see,” he ordered. 

She moved her hand, and he cut the sleeve away quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Oh, fuck, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I don’t have my kit.

“We have to get out of here,” Reveth rasped.

Kix dug frantically through his pouches, finding only a few small bacta patches and a vial of spray bandage. He didn’t have a choice. It would have to do, at least until they could make it back to the Stinger. 

He shoved the jacket sleeve and vibroblade toward Reveth. “Cut that into strips. Wide ones.”

He drenched the blaster wound with spray bandage, then grabbed the first strip Reveth cut from the jacket sleeve and quickly tied it around Maree’s arm near her shoulder. “Do you have a stylus on you?”

“Always,” Maree said, her voice tense with pain. She pulled the stylus out of her pocket and handed it to him, carefully avoiding looking at the charred, bloody wound. “Why is it bleeding so much?”

Kix tied the ends of the cloth strip around the stylus and twisted to tighten the makeshift tourniquet, securing it as he replied in an artificially calm tone. “Sometimes it happens. Move just wrong—the cauterized scab opens—blood.”

He ripped open the bacta patches and arranged them carefully over the injury, covering it as well as he could before wrapping the rest of the fabric strips around them to secure them in place. Finally, he looked up into her eyes, inadvertently smearing her own blood on her cheek as he cupped her face.

“I’m not losing you today.” His words were firm, but tremor in his hands was undeniable, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

She smiled at him through dry, ashen lips, and he kissed her forehead, then helped her carefully to her feet. Reveth had pulled up a schematic of the base, and Ithano joined them at the console, pausing to squeeze Kix’s shoulder briefly.

“We don’t die so easily,” the captain said in his deep, rasping voice.

“Not today, anyway,” Reveth cut in. “I found an escape route.”

“Please tell me it’s not the ventilation shaft,” Maree said unsteadily.

“It’s always the ventilation shaft,” Reveth replied.

Maree’s shoulder screamed with agony as she crawled through the ventilation shaft. She gritted her teeth to hold back the whimper of pain that hovered at the base of her throat. The ventilation shaft was filthy and cramped, and their progress was torturously slow as they navigated as silently as possible to their destination. The conduit wouldn’t take them all the way out of the base, so they would have to make a run for the main entrance when they got close. The only way they stood a chance of escaping was to not draw the attention of the battle droids.

She followed Kix through the labyrinthine ductwork, crawling laboriously on her knees and one hand. Her injured arm had burned like fire when Kix first applied the tourniquet, but now her arm was completely numb—and equally useless. At last, they found the access hatch to the main corridor. Kix dropped down first, and then Maree realized exactly how difficult this was going to be with only one functional arm. 

“Just drop,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

She took a deep breath and slid out of the maintenance hatch, feet first. Panic flashed in her mind briefly as she plummeted through the air, but Kix was true to his word, catching her before she could hit the ground. He set her down quickly and checked to make sure her bandage was still in place as first Reveth and then Ithano dropped down into the corridor.

They sprinted for the exit. Maree’s lungs burned and her vision blurred around the edges as she gasped for breath. Kix looked back at her sharply and reached for her hand, dragging her along behind him. By some miracle, the droids hadn’t detected them yet, and she could see the main entrance of the base. She forced herself to keep running, even as she stumbled and nearly went down, kept upright only by Kix’s strong grasp.

He tugged her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her, but he didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep going, love. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” she wheezed. “So close…”

She could hear the clanking of droids behind them, and she pushed herself as hard as she ever had in her life to keep running. They cleared the entrance, and Reveth tossed a few magnetized thermal detonators onto the ceiling of the base. 

Keep running, don’t stop, keep going.

The explosion knocked them off their feet, but the rubble of the collapsed ceiling blocked the main entrance. It wouldn’t hold back the droids for long, but it bought them time—so long as they kept moving. Kix was up first, pulling Maree with him as Reveth and Ithano scrambled to their feet.

They ran for the trees as Reveth commed Squeaky. “We need a pickup, now!”

“He can’t get to us in the jungle!” Kix said. “We have to find a clearing where the shuttle can land.”

They dodged through the trees, trying to avoid the worst of the swampy ground, but the dense underbrush slowed their progress and steered them on a circuitous route. Out of the corner of her eye, Maree saw movement in the earth. The ground shifted and began to swell.

“What the kriff is that?” she demanded.

“Keep running, don’t look back,” Kix urged.

“No, what is that?” she repeated.

She saw a flash of pale, bonelike metal alloy, and then a battle droid erupted from the earth.

“Fuck!” she screamed.

All around them, the skeletal forms of B1.5 droids began to emerge from the swampy ground, punching their way to the surface and dragging themselves up from the mud. Kix released Maree and drew both of his blasters, opening fire without hesitation. Maree, Reveth, and Ithano followed suit, for all the good it did them. The droids simply wouldn’t go down; even if they took so many hits that they started to fall apart, they still somehow shambled on in a grotesque parody of their normal precise movement.

They had no choice but to keep running and hope that they could at least slow some of the droids down. She could hear the roar of the shuttle overhead, but the vegetation was too dense for Squeaky to pick them up. The Gamorrean’s indistinct, frantic squealing sounded from Reveth’s comlink.

“He said there’s a clearing about a klick southwest!” Reveth yelled.

It might as well be on the other side of the planet, Maree thought hopelessly. There were simply too many droids; they were advancing relentlessly, and the terrain was too hostile to cross it with any speed. Holy shit, we’re all going to die here.

Her mind darted to the holorecord of the field test—a kriffing gruesome euphemism for such carnage. It had been a complete massacre. The terrified screams of the commandos as the droids tore them to pieces; the spray of blood and viscera: the images were branded irrevocably in her memory. It was a horrific way to die, and they were about to find out firsthand. 

Panic clawed at her, closing her throat and making her shots go wild. Her legs felt sluggish, and her feet became unsteady, but Kix never let her fall, even as he fired ceaselessly at the pursuing droids.

“We’re almost there,” he grunted. “Keep running, sweetheart, you can do it.”

“Kix, go,” Ithano ordered. “Get her to the Stinger.”

“No!” Maree exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you!”

Kix ignored her protests, bending over and tossing her over his shoulder as he ran. His plastoid armor cut into her thighs and belly, and she squirmed to try to get away.

“Put me down! Go back!”

Kix ignored her and raced for the clearing where the shuttle hovered just above the ground, ready to take off as soon as the crew were safely aboard. He dropped Maree in the copilot seat and turned to Squeaky.

“Don’t let her follow me.”

He sprinted to the back of the shuttle and jumped out, making for the treeline.

“Kix!” she screamed, lurching out of her seat.

Squeaky didn’t hesitate. He thrust her back into the chair with a stern grunt, then secured the safety harness to make sure she didn’t try to run again. She could hear blaster fire and shouting outside the ship, and she tugged desperately at the harness. Squeaky grunted again to order her to take control of the ship, and he lumbered toward the rear hatch, blaster ready.

Her heart hammered as she took the controls. Please, please, please. The distraught prayer echoed in her mind, silently beseeching the Force. I can’t lose him. Not like this. She felt utterly helpless as the deafening roar of Squeaky’s blaster fire pounded through the ship. Mercifully, she soon heard the pounding of boots on durasteel, and then Ithano launched into the pilot’s seat and punched the controls, hurtling the shuttle away from the planet.

“Kix?” she asked frantically.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees next to Maree’s chair and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here.”

“I’m here, too, thanks for askin’,” Reveth said as she flopped into her seat.

Kix stood and quickly released the safety harness, tugging Maree out of the chair and burying his face against her neck.

“Holy kark, I can’t believe we all made it out,” Reveth said. “I was sure Maree was toast.”

Maree laughed, and Kix glared at the Twi’lek. “Not kriffin’ funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Reveth insisted.

Kix shook his head and drew Maree out of the cockpit and back to the tiny med bay at the rear of the shuttle. “Med bay” was putting it generously; it was really just a bunk and a large emergency medkit, but it had everything he needed to treat her shoulder. He administered a stim shot, cleaned and redressed her wound, and removed the tourniquet. He worked efficiently, and she didn’t see any of the distress that had clouded his eyes back at the base—of course, they weren’t fending off a horde of unkillable zombie droids this time, either.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked with a tiny smile.

He stroked his fingers over her forearm gently. “You’ll live. Gonna have a kickass scar, too.”

“Will you kiss it better?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly as he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best. At least I’m finally going to have an exciting story to tell Baba and Eema.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, kriff, your mothers are going to kill me!”

The Stinger docked with the Meson Martinet first, and Squeaky, Reveth, and Ithano disembarked, then Kix piloted the shuttle to his own ship, the Scorpion. Brenko and Brosna were waiting next to the airlock when Kix and Maree emerged from the shuttle.

“Well, did you find the B1.5s?” Brosna asked.

“Yeah,” Kix replied grimly.

“Ha!” Brosna laughed triumphantly. “Pay up, Captain!”

“You’re still acting captain,” Kix retorted. “Now get your ass back up to the bridge until I relieve you.”

“Wait, you’re not taking command right now?” Brosna asked.

“Nope,” Kix replied, dragging Maree to their quarters.

The door hissed shut behind them, and Kix slapped the control panel to lock it. He was on Maree instantly, devouring her in a searing kiss as he unzipped and pulled off her jacket, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her shoulder. Once he had her top removed, he dropped his mouth to her throat and kissed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her body as he knelt in front of her. 

His hands roved over her urgently, clutching her body close to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he tugged down her trousers, and then he plunged his tongue into her ravenously. Her body jerked, and she cried out, losing her balance. He caught her with ease, then pulled her toward the bed.

“Kix,” she panted. “Don’t you at least want to get naked?”

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “Sit on my face.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.

“I’m planning to,” he said, lying on his back. “On my face. Now.”

She knelt, hovering over his mouth, staring down into his eyes. He gazed back up at her, sliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, before dropping them to her thighs and yanking her body downward.

“Kriff!” she exclaimed as his tongue slid deeply into her cunt, then his lips closed around her clit.

He held her in place as he feasted on her, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming. She writhed, nearly toppling over, then leaned back to brace her hands on his ribcage. He ate her like he was starving, like she was the last thing he would ever taste, and he fully intended to savor every drop.

“Kix—fuck—gods—” she moaned, her hips finding a subtle rhythm even as his strong hands gripped her, preventing her from moving more than a few centimeters.

He murmured quietly against her in between the kisses and licks and nibbles—soft, nearly inaudible whispers of fear and adoration and lust. “... taste so fucking good… love you so much… thought I was going to lose you… never letting go… so kriffin’ scared… want you so bad…”

He released her thigh and reached his hand around to massage her clit. All the muscles in her core began to tense as pleasure spooled tightly in her body, but her orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. She leaned back, groping blindly for his cock. She fumbled with his belt and eventually just slid her hand beneath the waistband until she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft.

He grunted at the contact, his hips thrusting up off the mattress. His hand strayed away from her clit to press his palm flat against her lower belly, and pressure was exactly what she needed. She convulsed with a sob, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her through her orgasm. Distantly, she felt the thrusting of his cock against her hand, and then a rush of hot, sticky cum on her fingers.

She crumpled to the bed, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing the backs of her thighs as she slowly came back to herself. After a few moments, he shifted, curling up behind her, tucking his thighs behind her legs as he drew her body close to his and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He kissed the side of her neck, just behind her ear, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin as he slid his hand up to play with her breast. “Love you. Never scare me like that again.”

She laughed quietly. “Aye, aye, Cap’n. What’s gotten into you, anyway? You were acting protective before we even left the Martinet.”

He lay silently for a moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, before he replied. “You’re late.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re… your cycle, it’s like clockwork. And—you’re late,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

The original comic panel that inspired this story! This was from Star Wars Adventures Ashcan. Alas, this comic was never published, so I am once again filling in the gaps in canon.

ADDITIONAL CONTENT WARNING: mention of possible pregnancy.

[arcsimper5]

Clone fancast

So we're not likely to get a Clone Wars live action remake.

But if we did...

I broke @amorfista by suggesting Beulah Koale.

What a beautiful man he is.

Can you picture it?

Fives:

Cody:

Jesse:

Kix (post stasis):

Rex:

Pre Skako Echo:

Anyone got Filoni's number? :P

[griffedeloup]

Holy cow ! Okay , I'm okay , there is still one chapter , I'll be okay ... 😭

Colder Weather: Part 1.5

Summary: the next installment to Colder Weather. This was supposed to be lumped into Part II but it’s too long, and it deserves its own moment. Please ensure you read Part I first, and heed the warnings below before reading.

Rating: Teen 16+ (for suggestive content and continued angst)

Warnings: mentions of unexpected pregnancy, abandonment.

POV/WC: 2nd (Fem!Reader x Post Stassis Kix), 2360 words.

AN: Kix how fkn dare you, dude. Mad at you.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ao3

He simply had no right to devour you the way that he was; the initial, gentle grazes of his teeth atop the delicate skin of your neck quickly intensifying to a series of assertive nibbles that brought you just to the cusp of discomfort before the soft pucker of his lips stripped the shallow indentations of their sting.

He had even less of a right to render you so euphorically delirious, his calloused hands kneading you like putty as if those same palms hadn’t left you untouched and craving their caress for two and a half months. And how dare he undress you with those same dark, twinkling eyes that had last danced across your features crinkled with anguish and shadowed by the turmoil triggered by your choked plea for commitment? How dare he melt you with the same hot breath that fractured his voice as he refused to accede to your teary demand, his lungs offering nothing but a pitiful goodbye before, once again, disappearing into the night?

No… he had no right to stand there so upright and proudly, strong form keeping you lifted and pinned against the wall of the same hallway that had been audience to both the chorus of your pleasured moans, and the barely repressed sniffles triggered by his repeated abandonment.

Yet, here you were, blissfully ignorant to the budding protest of your inner thighs as the rigidity of his armoured belt saw them nearly bruising under the periodic, thoughtless thrusts knocking your tailbone heavily against the wall.

“You never answered the transmission I sent you last month.”

A surge of resentment sent your eyes rolling before you’d even finished uttering the words, though it wasn’t the disapproving reminder that had you cursing yourself, but the breathy way in which they’d left your parted lips; the sensation of his hands fervently working their way from your hips to the swells of your chest having entirely robbed you of the need to reprimand him for the manner in which he’d departed last time, and the intolerable silence he’d upheld since.

“You’re right,” he conceded, the admission of guilt muffled to near incoherence by the crevice of your neck; clearly uninterested in suspending the devourment of your skin, he offered little more than a few hurried, disjointed words between the ruts of his hips and the passionate, open-mouthed kisses leaving slick trails underneath your jaw. “I meant to… honest… but I didn’t… In my defense… Ithano got us trapped on Florrum for a while… and I didn’t have…”

Exactly what he “didn’t have” was rendered a mystery, the remainder of his barely comprehensible excuse seemingly banished by the fervent desire to crash his lips to yours again, filling the corners of your mouth with a sensual growl that had you intensifying the wreath of your arms around his neck.

But you knew these steps… you knew this choreography. It would be mere minutes until he kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and tossed you to the bed, and every soft moan that left your lips as you failed to abey this familiar dance was a breath wasted. There were things that needed voicing before the fragility of your resolve saw it usurped by the craving for his touch. There was a confession demanding to be spoken; one that you’d wearily recited aloud to your reflection until the sentiment no longer triggered your hands to tremble and your vision to blur behind a wall of tears.

“Kix,” you sighed, as his lips departed yours for the solace of your other shoulder; the feeble plea slipping past your lips continued to contradict the potent anxiety simmering in your veins, and smothered every inkling of exigence from your tone. “You… you should have answered. I have to tell y–”

“I know, Mesh’la,” he breathed back. “There’s no excuse. I’m sorry. Was it urgent?”

Yes.

Your lips pursed against the moan threatening to escape your lungs as another thoughtless yet sinful rut of his hips saw his codpiece jutting into the aching space between your legs. “Well… not exactly,” you conceded. “But it was important. It still is.”

You fractured the loop of your arms around his neck, instead guiding your hands to encircle each of the scuffed rerebraces concealing the thick swells of muscle below them, but your shift in posture went unnoticed by the dark eyes still blown with lust, and he eagerly chased your depleting touch by hoisting you more securely around his waist.

“Can’t it wait until we’re done?” he mumbled against your lips.

Yes.

“No.”

In a move of unprecedented willpower, a subtle shove from each of your hands saw his lips detach from yours, his heavy brow contracting in confusion as his eyes fell upon the unease rapidly banishing the desire from your features. “I– I’ve waited long enough.”

Amid the sudden absence of a surging, primal lust, every inch of your skin began to prickle with nerves; the fine hairs atop your arms and across the back of your neck standing alert and ready for whatever precarious situation your mind deemed imminent. Yet his eyes softened to something near an adoring gaze as they danced across your shadowed face, a coy smirk emerging on the corners of his lips as he redirected his hands from the tender swells of your chest to the undersides of the thighs still locked around his hips.

“Alright, lay it on me,” he spoke, only partially able to repress the hoarse chuckle that, in any other circumstance, would have sent your heart cartwheeling around your chest.

A heavy swallow did nothing to eradicate the tension in your throat. Despite having recited the words to your reflection with every possible inflection, with every variation of diction, they simply refused to leave you under the oppression of his expectant gaze, and attempting to force them from a tongue too apprehensive to curl around them had you nearly suffocating. Eager to avoid witnessing those mildly swollen lips curl even further into the unintentionally patronizing smirk, your eyes darted away from his, instead following the distracted movements of your fingertips as they traced the many abstract blemishes carelessly embossed into his chest plate.

“What is it, Cyar’ika?” he probed quietly, trailing a softly curled finger down your flushed cheek.

Just tell him, damnit.

A deep, chest-expanding inhale. An uncomfortable twist in your gut. A surge of fear that nearly saw your eyes begin to blur. A slow and steady exhale through pursed lips.

“I’m pregnant.”

The sharp pain of a hangnail ripped from your ring finger went entirely unnoticed, and the assertive pinch that you instantly applied to prevent the tiny droplet of blood from escaping, was a motion as thoughtless as the act of detaching the broken skin. Your thighs had ceased their protest; his hips had stalled their pulses; there was nothing but a dense, smothering silence hanging between your intertwined forms; the only discernible motion in the dim hallway was the remnants of impassioned breathing still heaving his chest.

“You’re– you’re pregnant?”

Lust’s tight clutches had yet to free his voice of the typically enamoring gruffness, yet it lacked all of the intensity that regularly weakened your knees, the words weakly escaping his now slack lips as if it were a phrase too inappropriate to speak in anything above a whisper.

Innumerous rehearsals of your confession had seemingly failed to callous you against the disbelief— no, the disappointment swaddling his words, and despite having vowed to maintain your composure in the face of any potential reaction, watching his eyes unfocus and widen with horror quickly threatened to dismantle your resolve.

“Yes.” It only wavered slightly as it escaped your mouth, and you met his eyes with resilient intention. “I— I sent you that message when I found out. I’ve been waiting to hear from you, but…”

Its ghost stole the rest of the thought from your mind; the monster on his shoulders suddenly appeared in every rapidly deepening crease across his forehead, in every lagging blink over his glassy eyes, every shallow breath that spilled from his parted lips, and the fear that you’d spent weeks desperately praying would not consume him suddenly enveloped him so entirely that his hands simply fell away from you.

You hurried to unhook your legs from his waist, staggering slightly as you found your footing before earnestly reaching upwards to weave your fingers into his beard. “Don’t… don’t panic,” you pleaded, forcing the lump in your throat back down to slumber in your gut. You would not permit yourself the reprieve of emotion in this moment, as the days of tearing up over the pain of lost love and unrequited commitment needed to be in the past; there was a strength demanded of you now that tears would simply rob you of. “It’s still early,” you breathed, trying to recapture his gaze by tugging gently on his jaw. “The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year. There’s… there’s lots of time to– to figure things out.”

But his eyes were only attuned to you for the span of a shallow breath before they disappeared behind lids clamping tightly closed, his feet instantly mirroring the fervent need to disassociate from the situation by taking several, abandoning steps away from you.

“Pregnant…” he mumbled, his hands forming a defensive barrier in front of his chest, a palpable disconnect wedging it way between your bodies with every micro shake of the head, every small step that he took backward.

“Kix, hun,” you begged, reaching for his hand in a desperate attempt to keep his mind from spiraling and triggering the departure that you knew was only one wrong word away. “It’ll be okay, I promise. There’s more than enough space in this house for all three of us, and whatever we can’t buy, we’ll make… or we’ll do without. And– and Ithano will understand! You tell me all the time that he’s always harping on you to settle down— wait, where are you going?!”

“I… I have to go…”

He tugged his hand from yours, the motion itself arguably less aggressive than the impassioned pressure that his belt had impressed upon your thighs only minutes earlier, yet it erupted a pain so deep in your chest that even attempting to fill your lungs with trembling, shallow breaths was a feat near impossible.

“You’re going to leave?” you choked at his retreating figure, your feet taking you thoughtlessly down the hallway after him. “You’re— you’re not even going to say anything?”

“I… I don’t know what to say…” he mumbled, snatching his helmet from its perch on the newel post as he reached the half dozen stairs leading downward to the front door.

“Well… how about anything, Kix,” you scoffed, but he was either deaf or dumb to your despair; either unwilling or unable to send you even a fleeting glance before descending down the stairs and reaching for the door handle that would permit his escape.

And just how your heart could beat so savagely against your chest, while simultaneously laying fragmented in the darkest depths of your gut was a mystery to which you could spare no attention right now… Kix was mere seconds from leaving; he was only inches from the darkness of the night that would swallow him entirely and shelter him from the pressing obligation that he owed you.

Say something. Say something.

Were you requesting it of him, or of yourself? Did the strength to beg that he stay still reside amongst the shattered remains of your heart? Could you swallow what was left of your pride one last time for the sake of the child growing innocently in the place where the man you loved had last left remnants of himself? Was there anything you could say to stop his exodus from ultimately fracturing the pitiful optimism that saw you repeatedly leaping into his open arms?

“For Maker’s sake, Kix,” you hissed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just as scared as you are.”

He froze, fingers still poised around the tauntingly glimmering gold handle. “Mesh’la.” It only took one, whispered word to expose his desolation, and he stood like nothing more than a ghost of a man; shoulders slumped, head hung, helmet held slackly at his side. “I… I can’t—”

“Well you’re going to have to. You don’t just get to run out anymo—”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare leave!—”

“—and I love you.”

“—KIX!”

In his haste to vanish, the front door failed to full latch behind him, and a waft of warm summer air danced across the moisture welling in your eyes as if the universe itself was attempting to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry… and I love you.” It echoed like a gong in your ears. Lies. He wasn’t sorry, and he sure as hell didn’t love you.

How dare he put you in this position? There wasn’t a freckle on your body foolish enough to have expected a reaction that even remotely resembled joy or excitement, but this? To barely cast you a glance before hurrying to escape? To offer nothing but stammered, ingenuine apologies over his shoulder as he stepped into the reprieve of darkness? It was bitter. Bitter like the bile that had spent the last two months coating the back of your tongue as your body fought to establish a safe home for the child you’d never expected to carry.

And with a face obtusely contorted into a grimace of pure rage, you stomped down the stairs after him as noisily as your socked feet could permit, desperate to muffle the sounds of his abandonment as you pulled the door open just wide enough to slam it closed again.

taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @blueink-bluesoul @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @wolffegirlsunite

tag requests: @mxkyrie @wizardofrozz

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

WIP Title List

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

[Yeah, that's not gonna happen when you see how many WIPs I have.]

Thanks for the tag, @dystopicjumpsuit! I recently revealed a pretty good amount of my WIP shame in this game and this game, but I remembered there was more a couple days ago...

Send me an ask about whichever WIP(s) piques your interest the most, if you'd like!

Lost on Life Day [Rex x F!Reader] [Ask] COMPLETED

Cyber Crush [Wrecker x F!Reader]

Stuck in the Stacks [Wolffe x F!Reader]

No Foxes In This Hole [Fox x O!FC Series] [Ask; prior to change]

Seaglass in the Surf [Mando x F!Reader]

Your Body Remembers [Mando x F!Reader]

Yellow Blankets, Yellow Blades [Cal Kestis x GN!Reader] [Ask]

Like Family (Re-write) [Feral Opress x F!Reader]

Hunting the Nexu [Crosshair x OFC Series]

Glory In Gold [Imp!Cody x GN!Reader]

Loving a Lazarus Species [Tech x GN!Reader]

Dressed to the Ninety-Nines [Hunter x F!Reader] [Ask] [Ask 2]

Laundry on the Line [TBB!Echo x GN!Reader]

Where The Wildest Stars Grow [Wrecker x F!Jedi!Reader]

This is Blue Vulture Tower, Over [Modern AU Crosshair Fic]

Maker As My Witness [Boba Fett x F!Reader]

Names Are For Tombstones [Mando x F!Reader]

Flowers For A Brute [Savage Opress x F!Reader]

Of Honeysuckle and Haiku (Part 2) [Tech x F!Reader]

Wounded Wings [Tech x OFC Series]

Dog: Verburyc [Sgt. Hound x GN(?)Reader] [Ask]

Endlings [Post Stasis Kix]

Fluent In Nerd [Tech x F!Reader]

Magpie Behavior [Mando or Clone x Reader]

What's Left? Nothing. [Wolffe x Reader or OFC] [Ask]

99% Certain [Tech x GN!Reader]

Tracker. Teammate. Teacher. [Hunter fic]

My Vod Was Right About You [Yet-unspecified Clone x Reader]

Fossils And Ferns [Tech and Omega family fic]

A Shell of You Remains [Halloween Fic]

Worthy In All Forms [TBB!Echo x GN(?)Reader]

The GAR's Golden Boy [Cody x GN!Reader] [Ask]

Clone OC Storyline WIPs

Brothers & Batchmates Part 3

B&B Part 4

Blindsided Brothers

Brothers Night Out

A Brother's Great Honor

Baby Brothers - Scruffy's Telling

Everyone Lives AU

Chip Activation AU

No Pressure Tags: @dreamie411 @dragonrider9905 @eclec-tech @eternal-transcience @ulchabhangorm + @clonethirstingisreal @523rdrebel @returnofthepineapple @littlemissmanga @kimiheartblade aaaaand whoever else feels so intrigued!

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Right. Gonna go cry now.

just stripped of their will, their identities… and made to carry out the commands of a sick, sick man. They never stood a chance. No one could survive that.

Colder Weather: Part One

Summary: a two-chapter ficlet that follows Post-Stassis/Pirate Kix as he navigates the see-saw of an unexpected love that he doesn't think he deserves, and the trauma of his past.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

POV/WC/Rating: 2nd, 4570, Teen + up

Warnings: extensive references of survivors guilt, grief, PTSD, and mentions of character death. Seggsy time is implied but not described. This is emotional (it needs to be, so I'm not sorry)

A/N: the context of this ficlet won’t make much sense unless your decently familiar with the legends version of Kix’s life after the war (it might even be canon now? Not sure…). If you haven't listened to the song that inspired this little ficlet, I highly recommend you give it a listen; it's truly a lyrical masterpiece. And, as always, thank you to @staycalmandhugaclone for finding and correcting all my passive verbs (I left one in there because yolo).

Chapter One | Chapter Two ⏳ | ao3

“I want to see you again, but I’m stuck in colder weather. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Can I call you then? [...] Well, it’s a winding road when you’re in the lost-and-found. You’re a lover, I’m a runner, and we go round and round. I love you, but I leave you. I don’t want to, but I need you.” Colder Weather by Zac Brown Band

You’d long since memorized his movements; long since perfected this dance, having performed the passionate choreography of this duet with him countless times.

It always began with the sound of his speeder bike nearing your quiet cottage; the roaring of the engine muffled only partially by the towering hedges surrounding your acre of secluded paradise. That rumble so artificial amongst the constant tittering of nature that it took a mere fraction of a second to recognize it, and even less time to send a fervor coursing through your veins so rigorously that your hands simply abandoned whatever task that had been keeping them occupied.

Triggered by the sound of his approach, your feet took you earnestly through the front door and out into the gravel drive. A small smile, often concealed by the expanse of a thick, dark beard, tugged his handsome features upwards as he swung a leg over the seat of his bike, helmet clutched absently in one hand and arms stretched wide in a motion so welcoming, even the sheer power of the Force couldn’t have kept you from leaping into them.

He never failed to match your enthusiasm, scooping you clean off your slippered feet and into the familiar tight embrace that you’d spent weeks longing to be secured in. Hushed coos of “Mesh’la” amongst other breathy salutations were words that never needed voicing; the way his eyes danced reverently across your features spoke more volumes than any muttered term of endearment, any hushed apology for his absence. Watching the crease between his brows soften at the soft brush of your thumb against his cheek was a feeling that could have sustained life for all eternity; every caress of your fingers atop his skin powered by an ineffable desire to remind yourself of him, to remind him of you.  

But there was nothing that consumed you as entirely as the dance itself… nothing that quite melted your mind like the way he laid you down on the soft cotton of that old patchwork quilt; the way that he stripped himself of his rigid encasement; the way his eyes locked on yours, twinkling with an unspoken promise that he was about to make up for his repeated extended absences… all the transmissions that he’d failed to respond to… the commitment that he continuously denied you.  

And while even the ghost of his touch still set your very nerves alight, time had seen the unpredictability of his visits robbed of their spontaneity; lust replaced with a devastating love; passion diminished by the anticipation of his impending departure. The dance had become less of a dance, and more of a contemptuous game: how many seconds would lapse in the forlorn quiet between when the heat of his skin departed yours, and the door swung closed behind him? How many shaky breaths would leave your lungs in the too-short span of time that it took for the shadow of the unseen monster, forever-perched atop his shoulders, to rob his eyes of the twinkle only freshly illuminated by the return of your embrace?

The answer: always too few.

He would only ever grant himself a dozen-or-so deep breaths to dwell in the lingering serenity once the cresting waves of pleasure had subsided, the heaving of his chest eventually stilling to match the motionlessness of the incipient dawn.

Unable to withstand the suffocating languor, a poignant sigh would trigger the initiation of his exodus, body following the command from his anguished mind to climb from the bed and methodically redress himself in that disguising, blue plastoid kit. A tender, whiskery kiss was always your parting gift. Lips void of the passion that had seen them so ravenously devour yours only minutes prior, now gently atop your forehead in a wordless goodbye-for-now; the roar of the engine echoing amongst the whispering pines the perfect soundtrack to the disappointment that pulled shameful tears from your eyes.    

Yet… sometimes… on nights like tonight, an inexplicable force inside of him would demand that he dawdle, and if the urge to flee stalled on its way from brain to body for long enough, he’d roll toward you, fold his arm underneath his head, and trail a gentle fingertip along all his favourite parts of your body: the fleshy space between neck and shoulder where he often sought the comforting fragrance of your skin; the shallow dimples on your lower back, perched just above the rolling swells of muscle that he could barely keep his hands off of; the gaps between your fingers that so-perfectly housed his, as if they were ten adjacent pieces of a puzzle crafted by divine artistry.

Time had yet to reveal any explanation for the mystifying tenderness of his touch… it didn’t seem possible that such rough hands could trail so gently against your skin, yet his calloused fingers could have been draped in velvet for how softly they graced your most sensitive areas. And his pillow talk? It was poetry. His honeyed voice would utter whispered stories of glorious mountain ranges on far away planets while the delicate strokes of his fingertips ghosted atop the swells of your hips. He’d speak of the freckles smattered across your cheeks, and how they almost perfectly mirrored the night sky in Wild Space where the stars were so many, that astronomy had become an obsolete science, the citizens opting to merely look upon them for their unrivalled celestial magnificence. And when he would speak of the vibrant array of wild flowers that adorned the meadows of Felucia, he’d scoop your hand into his and kiss each individual knuckle, as if the immense power to blossom such beauty dwelled inside the fingers interlaced with his.  

But they were rare, those quiet moments, their emergence so ephemeral that even the span of a somnolent blink would have seen them escape your awareness and vanish into the past, and they were as devastating as they were infrequent. Laced not with the dread of his imminent departure, those near silent moments of deep connection were saturated in a hope so ensnaring that its warmth momentarily overshadowed the pain of his repeated abandonment, and you became enraptured by the could-be’s… the if-only’s… the maybe’s.   

Maybe… maybe tonight would be the night that the orange glow emerging atop the horizon did not trigger his departure. Perhaps this would be the time that he’d stay and spend the morning with you, his muscular arms locked around your chest as you ceased to fight the blissful drowsiness engulfing your bodies, dozing together in the first rays of the ambient light. Perhaps he’d be so comfortable, there in your arms, that the ever-present impulse to run, forever-clenched like an iron fist around his soul, would be finally suffocated by the sheer power of your love for him.

Those optimistic moments often saw you rambling, thoughts slipping easily from mind to mouth in a desperate attempt to keep him connected to you; resolute in keeping him both physically and mentally present; urgently trying to protect him from the monster on his shoulders long enough for him to realize that everything he could ever want was lying peacefully beside him. Periodically, if your chosen topic was one he found particularly amusing, his eyes would crinkle under the embrace of a smile, and — if the universe deemed you worthy that night — a hoarse chuckle would pour from his lips. Despite your continued pleas to the stars, it was a sound that graced your ears with a tragic infrequence, yet the way its radiance illuminated your soul had you shamelessly begging the universe that it continue to spill from his lips for all eternity.

But despite the prophetic bond that kept him returning to your side, only once had the bliss of your union softened his guard enough to let something… slip. Only once had he mentioned a brother: Jesse, a man spoken of thoughtlessly as Kix snickered through the recollection of a frantic speeder ride across the plains of Saleucami. But the music of his laughter utterly vanished upon voicing the name that he never meant to speak, the silence that filled its wake so polluted in unexpressed grief, that even the hushed sounds of your breath felt inappropriate, and despite having watched the light leave his eyes so often in the past, you’d never seen it replaced with a darkness as deep and as sorrowful as then.

“Tell me about him,” you probed instantly, hopeful that the delicate touch of your hand on his shoulder would be enough to ground him there in the bed with you; hopeful that the soft caress of your fingers would prevent him from conceding to his anguish, tossing the sheet aside and leaving you with nothing but the familiar sight of his retreating back and the bittersweet smell of him lingering on your pillow.

A ringing silence encompassed the room, broken only by the occasional chirp of an uninterested cricket nestled in the tall tufts of grass just outside the window, and the soft brush of dry leaves twirling amongst themselves in the warm gusts of midsummer’s breeze.

Speaking his brother’s name had rendered Kix momentarily muted and seemingly paralyzed, his eyes wide and affixed on an image that cruel memory had imprinted upon the ceiling above him. His breaths quickened, shoulder rising and falling rhythmically against your palm while his nostrils flared against the same onslaught of turmoil also knitting his brows together.

“Kix?” you probed in a soft whisper, fingers raising from the swell of his shoulder to gently stroke his hair. Those waves of black, sparsely peppered with the beginnings of grey, almost entirely concealed the remnants of a tattoo… letters… pieces of a phrase that he’d consistently evaded divulging. The ink, seemingly unblemished by time, looked as if it had only recently been embedded into his olive skin, yet his repeated, vague explanation of ‘I was a dumb kid’, suggested it was a choice made long ago; a decision made deep in a past he refused to speak of.

“Tell me about Jesse, my love…” you implored to his continued silence, watching with bated breath as the muscles in his jaw contracted in near perfect cadence with the bounding pulse in his neck.

“My brother…” Kix muttered, wrenching his eyes away from the ghost hovering over top of him, his solemn gaze dancing around the room in every direction but yours. “He… he died a long time ago. They all did.”

Your fingers faltered in their gentle strokes only for a breath, the impact of his words sending a crippling wave of aghast sadness throughout your body. “Who did?” It left your lips in barely more than a whisper, the unexpressed heartbreak lingering in the air robbing your tone of the intense curiosity that he so often shirked from and dissuaded, but despite the feigned composure precariously wrapped around your words, he offered no response. “Babe?” you pressed, your fingers abandoning their soothing dance along his temple to trail under his chin and weave themselves into the dark bristles of his beard. Hyperaware of the fragility of that moment, you gently cupped his jaw and turned his hagridden face toward you. “Who is ‘they’?”

His eyes finally met yours, darkened by apprehension and a deep sorrow that had yet to be explained. “My family.” 

It was like nothing you’d ever heard before, the tension in his voice. Those two choked words constricted by a heavy lump in his throat, immediately transformed the gruff and callous pirate that you knew into a man so momentarily fragile that even the soft cotton sheets draped atop your bodies felt too abrasive. Even more unexpected was the mist gathering earnestly in his eyes, reflecting the moonlight beaming in the window as if suddenly encased in a dome of sparkling crystal.

Whatever was left of the feeble breath housed in your lungs escaped your parted lips in a devastated huff, your stomach torquing uncomfortably as your thoughts began to whirr frantically around your mind. Resisting the transcendent urge to lock him in an embrace, you merely swallowed the lump forming in your own throat and hastily blinked the wetness from your eyes. Like the quiet moment that he’d gifted you tonight, you were all-too aware that his vulnerability was fleeting; at risk of dismantling completely should you misstep. But this was the knowledge that you’d be aching to know your months… years; this was the monster on his shoulders that tore him from your bed… from your home so devastatingly often. You were desperate to know it all… desperate to know him.

“Your… your family?” Two stammering words were all that you could force from your parted lips as he wrenched his jaw from your grasp and turned his gaze back toward the ceiling, grinding his knuckles aggressively into his eyes.

A heavy sigh was his only response, teeth clicking from how tightly he ground them as he seemingly tried to rub the image of his dead family from his sight. You swallowed heavily again and perched yourself up on an elbow, leaning in to him with every intention of planting a protective kiss to his temple.  

It might have been the shift of your posture that triggered it, or more likely, his patience diminished by your continued probes for information that he wasn’t willing to share, but a sudden banishment of lassitude saw him instantly tossing the sheet from his naked form and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Horrified and disappointed, you hurried to mirror his movements, kicking away the bunched cotton from your knees and pushing yourself to a kneeling position on the mattress directly behind him. Your lids narrowed to near-closed against the sudden ignition of the lamp on the nightstand, but neither the pain nor the spots now floating in your vision were enough to stop you from firmly wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him firmly against your chest. It wasn’t until you pressed your lips softly against his back, did he seem to notice your touch, and even then, his only acknowledgement was to peer, frowning, over his shoulder in your direction.

“Please, love,” you breathed against his skin. “Don’t run. Just talk to me.”

A soft sigh forced his shoulders into a defeated slump, and the tender drape of his hand atop his navel where yours were tightly clasped, lacked much of the warmth and intention that typically swaddled his touch.

“They were… tortured.” His head drooped sadly toward his chest, the previously urgent mission of collecting his clothes from their scattered placement on the floor, momentarily deferred.  

It was the initial shock that he’d even answered you that forced your lips to still against his skin, forgoing the ever-present urge to pepper him with chaste kisses for the sake of listening to the response that he’d previously deemed you unworthy of getting, but it was the horrifying implications of his explanation that forced your eyes open and the pain that drenched his words as they left his scowling lips that sent an all-consuming chill down your spine.

“All of them,” he continued quietly to his lap, absently drumming his fingers against the back of your hand. “Just— just stripped of their will, their identities… and made to carry out the commands of a sick, sick man. They never stood a chance. No one could survive that.”

He permitted himself one last, poignant sigh, the emptying of his lungs pulling his posture away from your still poised kiss, and it wasn’t until his palm departed yours, fracturing the wreath of your arms around his waist, that you returned to some semblance of awareness. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, beating against his back where the diffused glow of the lamp failed to soften the appearance of several misshapen scars along his shoulder; scars that you’d seen countless times previously, and had paid only little attention to.

Robbed of coherent thought by the repulsion surging through your veins, and rendered utterly speechless by the knowledge that you’d so desperately craved, you dropped your gaze to your knees, unmoving eyes watching them thrown intermittently into shadow as Kix moved about beside the bed, redressing himself in a suit of black compression, and the rigid, scuffed armament.

It was the soft scrape of plastoid against wood that broke you from your revolted torpor, his lean frame now completely encompassed in the blue suit that you despised, his helmet retrieved from the nightstand and hanging slackly from a gloved hand at his side. The sight of his impending departure returned you to a jarring cognizance and sent you frantically scrambling from the bed, bare feet ignoring the bite of the cold floor as you dashed toward the chair beside the window and collected the robe that you’d unceremoniously tossed onto it hours previously.

“Wait, Kix!”

You clumsily thrust your fists into the arms of the silk garment, your entire body laced with an exigent need to reach the doorway before he did. He couldn’t leave this time, not now… not now that he was finally opening up, finally sharing something other than trivial grievances about his crew members. He needed to know what you thought… how you felt. You had to tell him that none of it mattered to you… none of it made any difference. Except it did. It made all the difference. You thought you loved him then. That was nothing compared to now. And there was nothing that would stop you from loving him; not a past full of trauma, not tears leaking from his eyes, not the whispers that he denied hearing when the room got too quiet. None of it made a difference to you except that it did, and you would willingly spend the rest of your life banishing the ghosts that haunted his every move if he would just let you.

 “Can’t— can���t you stay this time?” you pleaded from your perch in the doorway, hastily tying a knot in the sash of your robe. “Even just a little longer?”

The snort that left his nose at the sight of your position, arms wide and clutching each side of the door frame in some pitiful semblance of a barricade, was anything but genuine, betrayed by the failure of the smile on his lips to crinkle his eyes. “Come on, Mesh’la,” he cooed, absently shifting the armoured belt around his waist. “You know I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” you argued, refusing to let the softness of his gaze weaken any of your resolve. “You just don’t. There’s a difference and you know that.”

The desperate sadness that encompassed your words surprised both sets of ears; you hadn’t intended for the sentiment to leave your lips drenched in such disappointment, yet his departure tonight felt more like a robbery than it ever had; stealing a fractured piece of you and leaving nothing but a shadow behind to replace it.

That small smile slipped from his features and he froze, upturned helmet held slackly at his side as he hung his head to his chest again. Your heart drummed heavily in your ears, the lump in your throat threatening to all but suffocate you as he stepped slowly forward, the old wood floor beneath you creaking and shifting under the weight of his heavy boots.

“Please don’t start this again, Mesh’la,” he begged in a whisper, tenderly tucking a displaced lock of hair behind your ear as his eyes flickered back and forth between yours. “We’ve been over this. I… I don’t want this for you. You deserve a better life than what I ca—”  

“I want this life,” you choked, chin threatening to quiver under the intense duress of your welling disappointment. “I promise— no, listen!—  I promise, Kix. I love you more than everything that you’ve been through. In spite of it all… because of it all. Just trust me. Stay with me this time. Let me— let me prove it to you. Let me sho—”  

“I know you love me, Mesh’la,” he interrupted, gently cupping your trembling chin and guiding your jaw upwards to look directly into your eyes. “I have never doubted it for a second. In another time… another life, I’d be able to give you back the love you deserve, but… I’m too sad of a man, now. I’m too angry… too volatile… too restless. No matter where I go or what I do, I can’t stomach my past, and I love you enough to not let you suf—”

 “I’ll suffer if I choose to!” you blurted, voice thickening in earnest. “I’ll suffer with you. It’s my choice, and I choose you, so just choose m—”

“Why?” he interjected, releasing your jaw and perching his hand on his hip. “Hmm? Why am I your choice? Why do you waste your time with a pirate like me when there are decent men lining up around the planet for your hand? Men that will shower you with gifts and affection? Men that won’t selfishly come and go as they please, like I do?”

“My time with you isn’t wasted, Kix,” you spluttered, eyelids unable to contain the flood of tears blurring your vision, banishing them to the heat of your flushed cheeks. “You don’t listen. I want every minute to be a minute with you. Every hour, every day. Stop running away from what happened to you; stop running from me. We— we can have a real life together.”

The aversion of his gaze to the floor did not stop you. You were too resolute in your convictions; too certain that if he just listened to you, he would finally understand. “I’ll make you caf every morning,” you continued, pulling your hands from the doorframe to hold his.  “And… we can shower together every day if we want to. You can make the water as hot as you want, and I won’t complain… I promise. We— we can grow berries in the field out back, on the other side of the tree line. You know, in that clearing where the flowers grow? The spot that gets all the afternoon sun? And… and we can brew our own wine. We—”

“Please stop.”

He was pleading with you in more ways than just the despondent words that left his lips; his dark eyes watching in something near agony as the tears abandoned your cheeks for the draped silk of your robe, but you were deaf to the desperation in his voice and blind to the anguish in his eyes as vivid images of what could-be erupted like a tragic film in your mind. 

“We can climb onto the roof and look at the stars on clear nights,” you persisted, releasing his palm and guiding your trembling hands onto the rough and worn plastoid of his shoulder bells. “And when it’s not, we’ll snuggle on the couch and listen to music. We’ll get drunk… and giggle about stupid shit… and make love in every room… an—”

“Please, Mesh’la.” He clamped his eyes closed, cowering beneath your watery gaze and gently tugging your hands from his shoulders, pausing to hold them weakly in his own for a breath before dropping them completely. “You have to sto—”

“No, Kix!” you refused, stomping your cold, bare foot on the floor below you. “You stop! Stop saying you don’t want this life for us, because you do!”

“OF COURSE I DO!”  

Your hands flew back to brace yourself in the doorway, shoulders jerking with fright, choked breaths freezing in your lungs. He’d never shouted like that before… and if he had, it certainly hadn’t been in your presence. Never once had you seen his eyes shrink behind lids so narrowed that the even the bridge of his nose scrunched to assist in their efforts. You’d never seen his thick, expressive brows contract so tightly and shoot toward the messy curls of his hairline in such earnest, and you’d never seen a look quite like that in his eyes… the frenzied look of a man desperate to be understood.

“Of— of course I want all of that,” he continued, his tone softening slightly as the ghost of his outburst rang back at him from the quiet corners. “But it’s not that simple. You don’t understand. I want it, Mesh’la, but I shouldn’t have it. I can’t have it. Why… why do I deserve the promise of a quiet life, when they never even had a chance at one? Why should I be the only one gifted with a happy ending, when they were robbed of theirs? If they can’t have it, then I ca—”

His voice cracked… fractured under the duress of the emotion simmering too near the surface, and it echoed more poignantly around the room than the hoarse shout which preceded it. That quiet moment, as you watched his shoulders sag in complete and utter dejection, with his head slowly shaking against a myriad of thoughts that he refused to speak, you would have withstood nearly anything to ensure the music of his voice never cracked like that again. You would have agreed to stand near-naked in the doorway for all eternity, willing to shoulder any amount of shouting, any verbal reprovement… anything if it promised him true peace from the sorrow that robbed him of his voice… of his life.

The threat of a sob forced your face into your clammy palms, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes until tiny, glimmering phosphenes erupted in your vision. Why couldn’t it all be as beautiful as those silly little dancing lights, brought to life with just a slight pressure from a small hand? Why could people not be free to dance about in darkness, as they are? Why must our darkness diminish our light? Why are those pretty dancing lights, free from the plague of guilt and sorrow, forever permitted to slumber until external pressure brings them to life, an occasion in which they shine so marvelously?  

The thunk of his boots and the creak of the floor signaled his slow approach. “I have to go, Cyare,” he mumbled into the space beside your ear, his free hand dusting soft strokes up and down your forearm.

You exposed your tear-streaked face and stared blankly across the room, unwilling to nod and acknowledge the disappointment. So this wasn’t going to be the time that he stayed.

“You know I love you,” he muttered into your hairline before planting a soft kiss on your temple, but the disillusionment had numbed you almost entirely, and you felt nothing of his lips on your skin, nor the brush of his body slipping past you through the door… you heard none of his footsteps fading down the hallway… nothing of the door closing behind him as he disappeared into the diminishing darkness outside… nor did you hear the roar of his speeder engine reverberating around the corners of your secluded paradise, all too eager and willing to rob you of him again.  

tags: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel