#rex shut up challenge

[1-800-crscnt]

-jobs I think some clones would have in a post-war “clones are legally seen as people” universe-

Cody: plant + animal farmer. sees it as both a new experience/challenge (land, terrestrial plants and animals) but also slightly similar to what he was used to as a marshal commander. likes the hard work & care required for this lifestyle but cares more about the payoff of it all. will underestimate mint at some point.

Rex: fisherman of some kind. i don’t really have a reason for this, it just seems very likely to me. probably enjoys the peace and solitude it can bring after years of being in the situations he’s been in, but likes the learning aspect and self-sufficient parts of knowing how to fish. could also like the thrill of wrestling large fish that have bodycounts and going to competitions about it, maybe all of these options at once. possibly worries a lot about everyone else and is always sending them photos of him fishing so they respond with their own thing.

Fox: nice try. stays unemployed in a comfortable cabin in some isolated town and loves it. if he needs money, he’ll cash in on favors or do small favors for his brothers.

Wolffe: also tempted to stay unemployed, but gets restless + depressed, becomes a woodworker. doesn’t care about it at first since it’s just a way to get money and stay busy, but develops a liking towards the methodical work and the feeling of creating something very meaningful and/or beautiful with his own hands. ends up liking to create furniture for his brothers getting settled down as a hobby, but creates gothic decorations to sell as his main thing. possibly gets less depressed.

Bly: security guard, would quit, then become a geologist. liked how similar being a security guard was to being a marshal commander at times, but overall hated being reminded of how a lot of people saw/see clones. found more peace in geology bc of how delicate/patient/focused he had to be (helps reinforce his belief that he’s not a violent machine capable of nothing else), also loves learning and sharing knowledge in general. doesn’t really like working with other geologists, tends to not communicate being angry since he’s used to shutting up to get a job done. but he’s dealing. sort of.

Doom: would probably also be unemployed but because he keeps quitting any job after about a month. just can’t find anything that calls to him or keeps him happy, but knows his end goal is to have a life involving lots of plants. doesn’t enjoy being unemployed because he tends to see it as a personal failing on his part, ends up very stressed. Wolffe tries to give advice on just jumping right into plant stuff and making money off it, but Doom is hesitant to make something he loves into a job he might end up hating and quitting again.

Bacara: part-time piercer, part-time bounty hunter. likes to call them both his “piercing jobs” to the discomfort of nearly everyone else. prefers bounty hunting since he thinks it’s more necessary + familiar, but would give it up first if he was forced to only choose one (more stable pay + might live longer). backup plan is to fake his death (unnecessary & regardless of situation) and become a librarian or historian with a fake accent. sort of a nerd anyway, so this isn’t the end of the world for him, and likes how he can get away with dissociating more than he used to.

Neyo: surprisingly, professional racer. refuses to explain how he got this idea, his motives, and where the next event will be, but likes it when his brothers somehow show up. loves the exhilaration, risk (huge adrenaline junkie) and how his outfit looks. also likes the bragging rights. backup plan is to fake his death (again, unnecessary & regardless of situation) and secretly live with Bacara, becoming a chef because he likes working with knives + feeding hungry people fulfills his desire to be useful in some way. has yet to tell Bacara any of this, actually finds not saying anything about it really funny.

[rachetmath]

Robyn: So Arc-

Jaune: You can call me “Jaune”. I’ve been here for five months.

Robyn: Well okay. Jaune um… what’s your day like with Fiona.

Jaune: Normal.

Robyn: Really? Nothing’s going on with you two?

Jaune: No. I just help her out. That’s it.

Robyn: Really?

Jaune: Yes.

Somewhere else

Nora: So Fiona. How long have you and Jaune been a couple?

Fiona: We’re not couple. What makes you think that?

Nora: You see him everyday. More than me.

Fiona: He helps me with the orphanage.

Nora: Nothing else?

Fiona: No!

Jaune and Fiona were in the Orphanage.

???: Mr. Arc? Mr. Thyme?

Jaune: What is it Rex?

Rex: Are you and Ms. Thyme a couple?

Fiona: Oh my- Robyn!

Robyn appears only to have May and Nora with her.

Jaune: Nora, you too?!

Nora: Look d-

Jaune: Nora.

Nora: *forgot the kid* Oh.

Jaune: Rex go to your room.

Rex: Okay. *leaves*

Jaune: Now what the hell wrong with you two?

Fiona: Why are you so obsessed with this?

Robyn: Because you two-

May: Look Fiona I been watching you two a lot and I have to admit it’s hard not to believe you’re not dating. In fact, I wouldn’t be surpise to call you both a married couple.

Fiona: Ugh you too May. Seriously wat-

May: You and Jaune do Laundry together.

May: Spend time with kids together.

May: In fact, when Jaune’s training leads him to get hurt, you are the first to drag him to the nursery and patch him up. Even when he tells us “Don’t worry about it.”

May: In fact you two are always in the kitchen together making dinner.

May: And Jaune, boy what Nora told me about you was damn lie. I saw what you did. Slow dancing in the night.

Nora: He was that smooth?

May: Smooth as Micheal Jackson.

Nora: Oh no.

Fiona: Um.

Jaune: Damn.

Nora: Oh yes. Finally. Fuck you Pyrrha! He go get right. *pulls scroll out her pocket and makes a call*

???: Hello.

Nora: Fuck you Weiss. You lose. He found someone better. He found the princess and gone make her his queen.

Jaune: Nora, calm down.

Nora: Fuck off Jaune. This is my victory.

In the twilight.

Pyrrha: Okay bitch, what did I do?

Adam: I mean you left the guy and died a meaningless death like Summer.

Summer: I gave birth to another silver eyed warrior. That has to count.

Hazel: Does she know how to use her eyes though?

Summer: Shut up.

Ironwood: And she destroyed Atlas and got Penny, Vine, Clover and myself killed so she’s kind a misfortune upon us.

Summer: Okay ya’ll need to stop disrespecting my daughter. Ya’ll made mistake.

Ironwood: Or so you say.

Summer: We can fight. We can fight right now James.

Pyrrha: I don’t understand.

Penny: Friend Pyrrha you are the main source of his trauma and pain.

Pyrrha: B-you know what… fuck all you.

Roman: Whoa Invincible Champion, it’s not our fault your ‘boyfriend’ decided to break that little curse you placed on him.

Pyrrha: Oh come on- I’m leaving. I don’t need this.

Summer: My death had meaning. My daughter has a mystery to solve.

Adam: So finally one of your daughters is actually trying to know what happened to you. It’s too bad they have to find the same woman that took one of them many years to find.

Summer: Oh my god.

Roman: Not to mention at least Penny’s death served a purpose. Winter’s alive. She kept thousands of people alive. While your death, Pyrrha, caused more suffering than good.

Pyrrha: You know what who wants to fight first? Who? Cause I’ll show you why they written me off. Name one. Who can body me? Who?! Step up. STEP UP!

Adam: Oh I never run from no challenge. Especially no One-V-One, come on bitch.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Lights, Leather, Action!- Part One

Cold-ridden, snzy stripper shit coming your way lol.

Grimm and Indigo are sent on an undercover assignment where neither knows the extent to other's role.

Imagine Indigo's surprise when he's dropped off at the local strip club and his lover is the fucking entertainment. Neither is allowed to break character. Neither can risk allowing their connection to each other to be known. But there's no rule that says they can't pretend to get to know each other as "strangers."

And Grimm loves a fucking challenge. And he's just come down with a the most horrible cold. However will he manage being a sexy AF "stripper" with something like that? -dramatic music intensifies-

Grimm's dance is done to this version of this song.

_______________________________________

“This is absurd.”  Indigo finishes buttoning his shirt and glances over his shoulder.  “Why would I not be informed of the details of this mission?”

“Because,” Grimm says. “You gotta pretend you’ve never seen me before in your whole goddamn life.”  

He gives his reflection the once over and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind one ear.  Typical black t-shirt.  Ripped jeans. Same old boots.  Yep, Indigo wouldn’t suspect shit. 

Well, except for the fact that he is currently nursing one hell of a cold.  Which Indigo is, in fact, all too well aware of.  The man had been watching him like a hawk all afternoon. 

When he wasn’t forcing Grimm to drink whatever gross-as-fuck tea he’d concocted. Not that any of it had done a damn bit of good. Grimm’s voice already had plenty of gravel, but this is a new level of rough depth.  Probably not a bad thing, considering just what he was about to do.  

The near-constant prickle in his sinuses surges to a sudden burn and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle a shuddering “Hhkg–UHhSSCHu! –uuhHKGISCCHHshu!”

Damn. Should've grabbed a tissue for that shit.  Maybe a towel. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, his tone a mix of exasperation, concern, and plenty of “come fuck me now.”

Which would have to wait.  

He does, however, pass Grimm a generous handful of tissues.  Because this ain’t something a handkerchief handle.  Needs a “once and done” kinda thing. 

“Thanks, Indy.” Grimm gives himself a much-needed sinus clearing and tosses it into the trash without so much as looking. “Look, I gotta go.  Rex is gonna drive you out there.”  

Indigo says nothing.  Looks cross as hell.  Grimm smothers a laugh into his palm.  Yeah, no surprise there.

“I’d say ‘don’t worry about it,’ but you’re gonna.”  He grabs his partner by the front of his belt and jerks him into a tight embrace.  “I’ve been doing this shit my whole life. It’s gonna be fine.” 

“I know that,” Indigo mutter-hisses into his shirt.  “It is your health that concerns me.” 

More chuckling. “It’s just a cold, Indy.  I ain’t dyin’.” 

“Yes, yes.”  Indigo fists a handful of the black fabric, tilts his face up to get a better look at Grimm’s expression.  “Regardless of that fact, I would much rather have you in my care.” 

“Uh huh.” Grimm smirks.  “I just bet you would.” 

Before he can so much as protest, Indigo has tugged him into a kiss that has a fuckton of heat and zero concern for catching whatever Grimm might actually have. 

“Go on, then.” Indigo brushes Grimm’s hair away from his face.  “Do as you must.” 

Oh, he would, alright. 

Grimm pulls at the fabric of Indigo’s gray trousers with a decisive snap.  “Hope you don’t like these pants.” 

______________________________

“Rex, where in the name of the gods have you taken me?”

While Indigo is more than familiar with the city and all of its grandeur, this is just beyond its limits, somewhere on the outskirts verging on questionable territory.

“You’re about to find out.”  Grimm's associate shuts the SUV off and grabs his keys from the console.  “Come on. Just pretend we’re two gay-as-fuck bros out for a good time.”

Indigo huffs. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m so totally serious.”

“Great gods.” 

While Indigo has never entered such an establishment, he is aware of its purpose the moment his foot touches the inordinately tacky carpet.

Surely not.

“Rex.” Indigo grabs his arm and presses himself against the other man’s body so as to be heard over the booming absurdity attempting to call itself “music.”  “You cannot be serious!” 

“You said that already.” Rex runs a hand through his black and blond hair and offers him a lopsided grin.  “Come on, Indigo.  I’ll buy you a drink.” He throws an arm around his shoulders and leads him through the crowd.  “A strong one.”

Well, he would need more than that to cope with the barrage of sensory nonsense currently assailing him. Strobing, multicolored lights. Headache-inducing bass thumping through his entire being. Carpet that looked as if it had been designed by an acid user.  Not to mention the hoards of screaming women.  And more than a few gentleman as well.  To use the term loosely.

And enough naked male flesh on display from both patrons and dancers alike. 

Despite being dressed in casual modern clothing, Indigo himself feels as if he is on display, given the lurid gazes of those in the crowd.

“Don’t sweat it,” Rex says. “They just think you’re pretty.” 

Indigo doesn’t inform the man of what he truly sees.  Amidst the sweltering throng of humans are Others.  At least one for every ten humans.  An inordinate number gathered here, indulging in the perversion of sexual excess and libations. 

Behind the rims of his glasses, his eyes flash brilliant blue but for a moment before he stills his instinctual overdrive. He is here merely as an observer. A “human” observer.

Is Grimm posing as some sort of bouncer?  It was not as if he hadn’t done that manner of work before. 

Rex hands him some manner of clear liquid in a shot glass which he does not bother to consume.  The level of alcohol it would take to so much as touch his consciousness would cause the demise of several grown men. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Rex has guided him to the front of one of several stages, which was absolutely not where he wishes to be under any circumstances.  

“What in the name of the gods are you doing?” He starts to stalk in the opposite direction, but Rex clasps his wrist with a firm, decisive grip.

“Nope. We’re standing right here.” 

Indigo shoots him a look that could freeze lava. “I think not.” 

The deejay’s voice booms over the sound system, announcing the end of one dancer’s routine and welcoming another to the stage.

“Alright all you ladies and gents out there, we’ve got a debut performer for you tonight and goddamn, it’s a good one. Make some noise for Remmington Wolf!” 

Indigo rolls his eyes. Honestly, where did these men find these ridiculous–

The raucous, sexual noise of guitars assaults his ears, but it is not the ungodly noise that stops him short.

No, that would be “Remmington Wolf” swaggering onto the stage, clad in leather and straps.  

Indigo’s jaw nearly drops before he catches his composure in the midst of crumbling.

Grimm. 

Grimm, strutting across the stage like he owns it.  Grimm, ripping that black tank top from beneath the straps that cross over his extremely naked and tattooed chest.  

And approximately one hundred screaming humans suddenly crowding the stage from every angle. 

Great gods.

Grimm drops to the floor, his hips grinding suggestively against a shadow of nothing, body undulating in ways that were never meant for public consumption. A shower of money and frenzied attempts at touch surround him.  The “leather” pants are suddenly gone, ripped from his body much like the shirt and discarded who knows where, leaving him standing in the shortest excuse for black spandex shorts Indigo has ever seen. 

And the boots.  Knee high and covered in straps and buckles that match the ones criss-crossing his chest.  

It is then that his gaze locks onto Indigo and he drops to his knees, crawling towards him some sort of lurid predator intent on the certain demise of his prey. 

Sweat beads Indigo’s brow at the sexual slink of Grimm’s approach and he stands frozen, unable to retreat or react. Grimm rises to his knees and reaches for him, hand tangling in his hair, the roll of his hips an obscene invitation. 

Screaming, hormonal madness in every direction. Grimm’s face so intensely close to his, mere increments from his lips, that lascivious smile curving his mouth. Energy crackles between them, unseen to those around them, but clearly visible to Indigo.  

Grimm is a fantasy of leather and sex, his body bending in ways that Indigo did not think him capable of. 

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his wandering touch focusing on one of the many women absolutely begging for his attention.  Just for a moment. 

Indigo doesn’t miss the hesitation in his stride, the way he suddenly ducks into the crook of his elbow, the unmistakable shudder of those broad shoulders. 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Heat suffuses his entire being as Grimm’s wandering gaze targets him and that cocky smile curves one side of his mouth.

The bastard.  The absolute great bastard!

Everything about his partner has been reduced to strutting, undulant carnal deviance. And all Indigo can do is stare at him like one of the slavering buffoons stuffing handfuls of money down those indecorous shorts.

The music tapers to silence and the audience emits a collective shriek of inane delight worthy of several pairs of earplugs. 

Somewhere above it all, the deejay is rambling whatever drivel comes after a performance, but Indigo’s attention is locked onto his partner who is currently at the opposite end of the runway-like stage, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, laughing with raucous enjoyment over something a bouncer has said. 

It takes every ounce of control Indigo can muster not to part the crowd with his raging appetency and drag Grimm into the nearest corner and—

“You good?”  Rex nudges his shoulder and Indigo blinks, snapping back to reality.

“Yes,” he lies stiffly. 

Rex laughs. “No?”

Indeed not. Rex truly has no idea.

_____

Grimm pops the cap off of his third bottle of water and takes a deep swig. That had been a lot of damn energy.  Funny, because he doesn’t feel even a little bit tired.  

He should, though. Even if his cold was just some garden variety bullshit, that didn’t excuse him from the relentless symptoms.  

One in particular. 

He snatches a handful of napkins from the bar and barely manages to clamp them over his mouth and nose.

“---UHSCCHHHu! Hhh’uh-KGSSSCCHHuh!” 

Damn. Barely any warning. Maybe if it wasn’t so fucking cold in this place. A double whammy for sure.

He takes a moment to struggle into some actual leather pants, which doesn’t do a goddamn thing, but it doesn’t matter.  He’s got better shit to do.  

Making his way through an ocean of admiration is only moderately weird, but he’s interested in one particular target and that’s the one currently giving Rex an earful.  Fuck, he can only imagine. The kid is laughing, which probably isn’t the smartest thing, but at least Indigo doesn’t look too pissed.  “Frustrated” is definitely the best word for that look.  He’s seen it pointed at him more times than a firing squad.

As if sensing his approach, Indigo ceases whatever he’s dishing out to Rex and turns to face him, expression neutral, posture proper but deceptively normal.

Grimm isn’t buying it. Not for a second. 

He adopts all of the cocky bullshit he can muster and puts a deliberate swagger in his stride. 

Rex excuses the hell out of himself before Grimm reaches the edge of the table where neither Indigo nor Rex had actually sat, leaving Indigo to fend for himself against whatever advances he might make.  That is, if he tried to do that shit. 

“Hey.” He tosses his dark hair over his shoulders with all kinds of ridiculous finesse.  “Saw you watching.  You like what you see?”

Indigo arches one perfect eyebrow with such an air of boredom, Grimm almost buys it.  

Almost. 

“Perhaps,” he says. 

Hmm, he’s good. 

Grimm steps closer, the fingers of one hand grazing the sleeve of Indigo’s shirt with a feather-light touch. “You got a name?” 

His partner does not so much as flinch. “I do, but you may call me ‘Ice’.” 

Grimm almost chokes on the laugh that bursts out of him before he can even do a damn thing to stop it. “Hmmn, okay, Ice.” He lowers his head just a touch, a gleam in his eye. “Guess you heard who I was since you couldn’t take your eyes off of me.”

“I believe I missed it,” Indigo “Ice” says.  Like he’s so goddamn disinterested, he can’t stand himself.  

Well, now. This shit is gonna be fun. 

“Remmington,” Grimm says. “You think something that long will fit in your mouth, Ice?”

Indigo lifts his chin. “I suppose it would depend on if you prefer ‘Remming’ or not.” 

Did he just . . .

Grimm leans against the column beside the table. “You’re a real smartass, aren’t ya.” 

“You are not the first to accuse me of such a thing.”

Maybe Grimm would have said something equally smartassy back, but standing under an AC vent has won over a spicy comeback.  And this is way better.

He brushes a knuckled finger against his nose with a cringe, makes a show of standing there for a moment, fights against it with more visuals than necessary. Indigo’s gaze is cool and steady, his posture now straight, but not rigid.

Grimm’s expression begins the descent from brash to desperate, his breath hitching with an uneven, almost ragged stammer. 

“Hhh-huuh!  Hhuuh. . .! UHCHSSHu! Hkgh’UHSSCCH’u! —Uhh-KGSSSSSH!”  

To hell with covering. He leans to one side and gives Indy the full fucking show, right down to the full body shiver.  Which he can’t help anyway, but fuck it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a shake of his head. “Fucking freezing in hee-hhhuh! Hh–NXGT–shhuh!” He leans against the support pillar with a thick, congested sniffle.  “Fuck. Excuse me.” He flashes Indigo a lascivious smile. “Might have a cold or some shit.” 

“Bless you,” Indigo says with such polite indifference that Grimm laughs like a stupid asshole. “Perhaps this would be of some use to you?”

The icy bastard waggles a folded handkerchief at him, holding it between two fingers, and Grimm smirks. “You won’t want it back when I’m done with it.” 

“I had no intention of wishing for its return,” Indigo says.

Grimm takes a step towards him, his fingers sliding to clasp the thing, but caressing the edges of Indigo’s pale hand in the process, taking his time to pull it free of the proffering grip.  

Just in time, too. Grimm buries his nose in the folds with a dramatic disaster of an encore, doing nothing to stop himself from unleashing hell from whatever the fuck his sinuses are doing right now.

“UHHKGSSCH!-UHSSCHu! UHH-KGISSCHHUu! Good goddamn.” 

Indigo’s expression softens just for a split second and Grimm nudges the tip of his dress shoe with one boot. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, the frost in his tone warmed for the briefest instant, a context clue no one but Grimm could possibly decipher. 

“Thanks,” Grimm says. He barely manages to stop himself from saying “Indy.” He recovers with another, more subdued nose blow and pockets the handkerchief.  “Wanna buy me a drink?”

Indigo “Ice” chuckles with a thread of something wild.  “I suppose I might.” 

(TBC....)

[ghostofskywalker]

Opposites Attract

Commander Cody/Fem!Reader

Fictober 2024 Day 30 of 31

Words: 858

Summary: Commander Cody has a reputation for honor, duty, and focus, which makes it all the more entertaining when he falls head over heels for a visiting bounty hunter.

Note: i think this is my favorite of this year’s fictober fics! i wrote this imagining a reader character who is very strong/buff (the image in my head for her frame is that of norman rockwell’s depiction of rosie the riveter, if that makes sense)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

There was a figure that Cody didn’t recognize in the training room as he stepped inside, and his interest was certainly piqued by the crowd of vode standing around, everyone cheering and laughing. Some of the 501st had joined up with the 212th for a joint mission, and Cody walked over to Rex, who was sagely sitting in a corner and watching the exuberance across the room. “What’s going on?” 

“Jesse’s sparring with a bounty hunter,” Rex said with a tired edge to his voice, as though this was not the first time this had happened before.

“A bounty hunter?” 

Rex nodded. “She’s a friend of Skywalker’s, and he calls her in to help out every once in a while when things get a little too difficult for his liking. Unfortunately for me, she doesn’t follow rules very well, and it certainly doesn’t help that all my men are enamored with her.” 

Cody craned his neck, trying to get a better glimpse of the matchup through the crowd of clones. “Who’s winning?” 

The moment he finished speaking, the sound of plastoid armor hitting the padded floor filled the space, and a chorus of laughs and teasing came from the troopers on the sideline. “Take a guess,” Rex deadpanned, and Cody couldn’t help but laugh as his brother’s expression. “I’m just glad they finally wised up and stopped allowing the use of weapons in these matches. I thought we were going to have to run out of bacta before something changed.” 

He still couldn’t see you too well, but he heard your voice as you called for another challenger, and Cody watched as someone else stepped up to fulfill your request. Turning back to Rex, he smiled. “Is this a regular occurrence?” 

The captain nodded. “Yeah, and Fives is about to get his shebs handed to him.”

Cody could hear the trash talk from across the room, and it was clear that whoever you were, you were more than comfortable with the troopers in blue. 

“You think you can handle me, mesh’la?” 

“You said that last time babe, and you ended up with a busted lip.” 

“At least I wasn’t busted elsewhere, if you know what I mean.”

“Just shut up and lunge at me.” 

Laughter filled the room as the action began, and Cody couldn’t help but continually glance over, hoping to get a better look at you. 

To Fives’ credit, he appeared to put up a good fight, but it was clear who won when Cody once again heard armor being slammed against the floor. “Kriff me,” Fives groaned.

You laughed, a bright, joyful sound that carried across the room. “At least buy a girl dinner first.” 

Finally, the throng of people cleared, and Cody’s breath actually caught in his throat for a moment when he finally got a look at the tournament’s victor. The look on your face was one of savage pride as you laughed with his brothers and jokingly flexed, the crowd of onlookers cheering the whole time. With a strong frame and clearly in possession of a lot of strength, it was clear that you were a terror to anyone who made the mistake of opposing you. 

He may not have realized that he was staring for a little too long, but Rex certainly did. “Caught your interest?” 

“What?” 

Rex laughed. “Stop staring like a lovesick tooka and go talk to her,” he said. “I think she’d like you actually, with your whole ‘good behavior’ vibe. It’s endearing to people like that, who have never followed a rule in their entire lives.” 

Annoyed that Rex had managed to clock his feelings so quickly, Cody tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’m not staring.” 

“Yeah, and Hardcase is the Chancellor of the Republic,” he said.

Cody was about to bite back, but held his tongue as he realized that you were walking over to him. “Hey Rex,” you said, stealing the canteen of water from his hands and taking a swig. “Who’s the newbie?” 

“The marshal commander of the GAR,” Rex responded, not even bothering to comment on his stolen water. 

You smiled at Cody as you took another sip, and he couldn’t help but stare at the droplet of water than escaped out the side of your mouth and traced down your neck. “Maybe you’ll be a challenge for me, I haven’t had a fair fight in ages.” 

Cody’s eyes widened as he tried to find the words to respond. 

You just laughed, clearly enjoying the fact that you had him so timid. “You’re cute,” you said, reaching out and running a hand over his cheek before pulling it away. “If you ever want to get some training in, let me know.” 

You were gone before another word could be uttered (thanks the to comm device in your pocket indicating a call), and Rex broke out in laughter as Cody tried to recover. “Close your mouth vod, you’ll catch something.”

Cody glowered, shooting his brother a death glare as he desperately tried to ignore the fact that the feeling of your fingertips on his skin had practically set him on fire. “Shut up.”

- the end -

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[razena8]

For the drabble challenge 89 with Rex

I struggled for a good while on whether or not I wanted this to be funny or painful. Ultimately, the angst won out. Enjoy~!

Rex couldn’t breathe.

Re felt numb, feet frozen to the floor. His horror was mirrored by the younger face in front of him, eyes wide and glassy, brows crinkling the dark ink on his face, paling face shadowed by the grey cap on his head.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to- I never meant, I didn’t want to-”

“Dogma?”

Dogma’s mouth snapped shut. His shoulders curled in as his pupils started darting around the great and lavish halls of the Senate Building. His hands twitched towards the scattered documents and the mug broken on the floor, a puddle of caf forming from where it dripped from Rex’s armour, while his knees were bent and feet pointed away, begging for escape.

Dogma’s breath shook as he dragged in a breath. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get- I’ll call a cleaning droid right away, and I’ll accept whatever punishment you think is necessary-”

“Dogma,” Rex whispered again. Dogma fell silent once more and he ducked his head, eyes blinking rapidly. “Dogma, you’re… you’re alive, how are you…”

He reached forward, fingers hesitating as if he were staring at a mirage. Dogma shied away, and Rex yanked his hand back as if he were burnt. But still he didn’t leave, so Rex didn’t either, drinking up the view of his lost soldier as if the stars would burn out.

“Dogma,” he couldn’t stop uttering that name. “Dogma how… how are you… are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Dogma’s eyes are fixed, glassy eyes staring over his shoulder. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine, sir”.

Dogma did not look fine. Dogma’s skin was far paler than it should be, causing his tattoo to jut out obviously. Dogma was shifting his weight on one side. Dogma’s greys were hanging oddly on his frame, sagging just the slightest bit in awkward places.

Anger started to simmer under his skin, warring with concern and he fought to keep both feelings off his face. He resisted the urge to curl his hands inward, instead keeping them down and open, palms tilted outward like a plea. 

“Dogma, what happened?”

Finally, Dogma’s eyes slid and locked onto Rex’s gaze. For a long moment, Rex could only see golden irises glazed over with tears and brows pinched as though in agony. It made Rex want to take that final step forward between them and gather him in his arms, to smooth that expression of pain away from his face and hide him forever. But he held position, not knowing what Dogma would do if he gave in to that desire.

He probably would have, had footsteps not been heard hurrying down the marble floors. Dogma snatched his eyes away from Rex’s and snapped to attention. “Sir!”

“Trooper,” Fox’s deep pitch replied from behind Rex. “Why are you not at your post?”

“Sir, there was,” Dogma’s eyes darted to Rex and back again. “-a situation, sir! I’m taking care of it, sir!”

“It’s not your job to worry about whether or not the floor is clean enough to eat from” Fox droned. “Leave that to the cleaner droids. Get going, you have a job to do.”

“Wait-” the word tore out of his throat, because he’d been too stunned to speak when they’d first crashed, when Rex had exited the door and found himself in collision with the younger clone. He didn’t have the right words, but he now had so many questions, so many things he had wanted to say but had missed the chance. But neither man acknowledged the plea and Dogma barreled over his gasp of desperation.

“Sir,” he nodded towards Fox, and snapped out a perfect salute, perfect as always and so very Dogma, and without so much as a glance at Rex about faced and took off down the hall.

Rex willed him to come back, to turn around at least one last time, but Dogma’s head remained facing forwards, ever the perfect soldier. Rex wanted to call out, to get him to wait, to come back, but the words were glued to his throat. Soon, far too soon, Dogma rounded the corner and was gone.

“The new arrivals are a bit jumpier than usual,” Fox hummed, and Rex reluctantly tore his eyes away from where Dogma had disappeared to fix his gaze on the older clone. “Shinies are always so eager to please, but we aren’t getting a fresh batch this time. Part of Amidala’s newest bill for ‘disadvantaged soldier’s who deserve a second chance’.” A huff sounded from the comm. Might have been amusement. Might have been scorn. “Seems she finally got the memo.”

Rex tried to keep his breath steady through the betrayal itching beneath his skin. “And when did you plan on telling me about this?” 

“I didn’t,” Fox replied, curt and frank. Rex couldn’t read anything in that visor, couldn’t see a twitch of discomfort, or a shrug of apology. He was completely blank. Like a droid.

“...why? He’s mine!”

“Not anymore,” Fox drawled. “He keeps his life, and in return all he had to do was switch his blue for red. He’s mine now.”

Rex choked. He remembered panic settling into his veins as the tribunal hemmed and hawed over Dogma’s fate. He remembered turning to Cody, despite all the blood he’d drained from his men, and begging his older brother for help. Remembered Cody’s calm voice, void of blame, telling him “I’ll take care of it”.

Remembers hearing the verdict and the cold reminder that Cody was no god, that not even he could turn the wheels of judgement.

Remembers running away from the wails that echoed from the barracks.

“But why didn’t you ever tell me,” Rex whispered. “His squad mourned him. Tup has been struggling. They’re batchmates Fox! I don’t care where he is, as long as he’s alive! But you could have told me-”

“No.” Fox finally turned his head to meet Rex’s eyes, voice turning hard. “I know your battalion, Rex. Very well. You lot are not the type to let something like this go. You’d get vocal about it. Incredibly vocal. No doubt you’d grab the wrong attention. Don’t tell me you honestly believe that the brass knows the kid is here?”

“You’re underestimating my boys,” Rex tried to match Fox’s tone, but he was feeling numb. “They know how to keep things quiet if they have to. They would never do anything to hurt Dogma-”

“If that were true Dogma wouldn’t be here.”

That stung. That burnt in Rex’s chest something awful. The failure of not keeping his own men unified, of allowing in fighting and for one man to take the fall of his inability to squeeze a force damned trigger scraped at his skin and dug into his heart.

Fox’s head twitched minutely and his voice softened. “He’s alive, Rex. That’s what matters. I’ll keep him safe to the best of my ability.”

“Will you?” Rex didn’t mean for the words to form quite so sharply.

“Of course,” Fox murmured. “Like I said. He’s mine now.”

With that Fox bent, and started picking at the flimsi on the floor. Rex felt chastened at the sight, and hesitated for only a moment before bending over to help. They were probably classified and highly important documents, and Dogma had just left them there, at the order of his Commanding officer.

Just so that he could get away.

From him.

Rex was starting to get tired of the way his eyes burned.

They had just finished gathering the wayward documents and gotten to their feet when the door slid open and Skywalker stepped out. Fox straightened imperceptibly, flimsi firmly tucked against his side as he saluted. Rex already knew not to.

Skywalker beamed at him. “Heya Rex, the Chancellor, cut our meeting short. He had some meeting with the banking clan or something-”

Skywalker paused. “Woah, what happened to you? Wait- Did someone throw that at you?!” His eyes squinted dangerously, suspicious eyes darting to Fox who stiffened..

“Uh, no sir, there was just an accident,” Rex hastened to say, drawing the General’s focus away. “I will clean up at the barracks, sir.”

Skywalker stared for a moment before he relaxed, gaze brightening as he turned to walk down the hall. “Okay, then. We should get going! Although, I hope you don’t mind, but I was hoping we’d stop by Senator Amidala’s office for a bit, I was hoping to catch up with her too.”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured. He turned back for a goodbye but Fox was already disappearing around the corner, just like Dogma.

[ohquail]

POKEMON AU because I can and spent a lot of time on it

Pokemon Au:

Ashlyn: Cyndaquil -> Typhlosion: Scorch Mareep -> Ampharos: Zap Marill -> Azumarill: Blueberry Sudowoodo: Pebble Eevee -> Umbreon: Luna Houndour -> Houndoom: Cerberus

Aiden: Pichu -> Pikachu: Zippy Tyrogue -> Hitmontop: Champ Hoothoot -> Noctowl: Hootie Zubat -> Crobat: Echo Wooper -> Quagsire: Splash Dunsparce: Wiggles

Ben: Nidorino -> Nidoking: Spike Jigglypuff -> Wigglytuff: Puff Growlithe -> Arcanine: Scout Tentacool -> Tentacruel: Jelly Lickitung: Slurps Cubone -> Marowak: Skull

Logan: Caterpie -> Butterfree: Worm Oddish w/ everstone: Herb Poliwag -> Poliwrath: Ripple Magnemite -> Magneton: Volt Kangaskhan: Guardian Hitmonlee -> Hitmonchan: Roundhouse

Taylor: Bellsprout -> Victreebel: Petal Ponyta -> Rapidash: Rainbow Dash Farfetch'd: Duckie Staryu -> Starmie: Glimmer Eevee -> Espeon: Shine Bellossom: Buttercup

Tyler: Taylor nicknamed all his pokemon because he didn't want too Machop -> Machamp: Rex Shellder -> Cloyster: Pearl Onix: Titan Misdreavus -> Mismagius: Spooky Gligar: Aero Slugma -> Marcargo: Cinder

Ashlyn leaned back against the seat of the train. Her Azumarill, Blueberry, was nuzzled comfortably on her lap, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic chugging of the train over the tracks. She looked out at the passing scenery – verdant fields and wild Pokémon frolicking freely- it was a peaceful scene that was suddenly ruined. “Oh my god! Ponyta and Rapidash!” Taylor pressed her face up against the glass.

Her eyes were wide with excitement as she pointed at the fiery Pokémon galloping majestically across the open landscape. "Such power, such grace!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Shut up Taylor,” Her twin brother, Tyler grumbled from beside her.

Taylor responded by sticking her tongue out at him, "Oh come on, Ty! Lighten up a bit. We're on an adventure!" Her words were punctuated with a wild gesture referring to the world outside their window.

Tyler merely rolled his eyes and returned to his nap. Aiden got into Ashlyn’s face. “Are you excited to see the big city?” “Get out of my face,” She shoved her hand in his face and pushed him away from her.

Aiden stumbled back, a grin still lingering on his lips despite Ashlyn's rebuff. He adjusted his glasses and laughed, "Alright, alright, I get it! Personal space, I respect that." He then moved over to join Taylor by the window, equally captivated by the sight of the fiery Pokémon racing alongside their train. Logan looked up at his book, “What gym is in Savannah?” He asked more so Tyler. The ladder looked up before drifting back off to sleep, not answering Logan’s question.

Logan frowned slightly at Tyler's lack of response but shrugged and returned to his book. “It’s the Electric Type gym,” Ashlyn answered, glancing over at Logan. “Ben are you gonna battle the gym leader this time?” Taylor looked over with a grin. The mute boy looked up at her and shook his head. Taylor’s grin didn't falter. "Well, your loss, Ben! Savannah's gym leader is supposed to be one of the toughest around.” Ashlyn nodded in agreement, her thoughts drifting to the upcoming challenge. Blueberry stirred on her lap, opening one eye lazily. “Ashlyn, the conductor is coming by, put the pokemon away,” Taylor hissed quietly.

Ashlyn gently nudged Blueberry, whispering for her to return to her Poké Ball. With a soft glow, the Azumarill disappeared, and Ashlyn clipped the ball back onto her belt. As the conductor approached, checking tickets and ensuring everything was in order, the friends settled down, their excitement momentarily subdued by the adult walking past. “Hey! Blonde kid, sit down,” She told Aiden.

Aiden, who had been bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, gave the conductor a sheepish smile and quickly sat down next to Ashlyn. The conductor nodded sternly before moving on, her eyes scanning the rest of the passengers with practiced ease.

Once she was out of earshot, Aiden leaned in towards Ashlyn, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, what's the plan when we get there? Straight to the gym or do we explore the city first?"

Ashlyn pondered for a moment, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her thigh. "I think it'd be smart to scout out the gym first, get an idea of the level of the trainers and the gym leader’s level and pokemon,” she mused, her eyes lighting up with the thrill of strategy. "But, exploring Savannah wouldn’t hurt either; it could be a good way to unwind before the battle."

Aiden nodded in agreement, his grin widening. "Sounds like a perfect plan! Plus, I heard there's a market where local trainers trade rare battle items!” “Okay calm down, it’s not that exciting,” Tyler opened his eyes with a glare at Aiden.

Ben, still silent, gave a small nod, his own excitement about the city's offerings visible only to those who knew him well. His dark eyes flickered with interest at the mention of the market, perhaps considering it a good place to gather resources that could be valuable in upcoming battles.

"Actually, it might be good for our pokemon to get some battle items to make them stronger!” Taylor wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulders. Logan looked up from his book, “Plus in the tall grass outside the city, there’s shellos, we both need that for our pokedexs,” Logan told Taylor.

Taylor's face lit up at the suggestion, her adventurous spirit clearly piqued by the possibility of catching a new Pokémon. "That settles it then! First, we explore the city and hit the market, and then we head out to catch some Shellos," she declared enthusiastically.

Ashlyn shook her head, appreciating Taylor's infectious energy.

[vxmpyr-clxb]

☆ . . . LEARN THE ALPHABET WITH SAGE!

A is for — “And here I thought Jake would’ve been the first to lose a limb.” Playing COD and other shooting games with the boys.

B is for — "Bitches love me bitches love me-" Jake on live and going to ask Sage if she wanted to join. Only to open the door and hear her screaming the lyrics to a song. Jake immediately slamming the door shut after hearing her.

C is for — “¿Cómo te va? Ten cuidado. No te caigas.” Teagan randomly switching languages when speaking to the boys in a en-o’clock ep and not even realizing it for a good 20 minutes.

D is for — "DEEZ NUTS!...I'm sorry." Her on a live, and letting the intrusive thoughts win, pt. 1.

E is for — “EVERYTIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING!" Karaoke with Heesung, Jay, and Sage is chaotic to say the least.

F is for — "FUC-FLIPPING FONGTASTIC PENGUINS!" Teagan stubbing her toe on the counter in I-land.

G is for — "Get me out of here.." Sage looking towards the cam during a live, with Niki and Jake, like she's in the office.

H is for — "HEKVSFKJASK-" Her literally getting choked out by Niki when they were roughousing and him dragging her off the side.

I is for — "I’ve accidentally indulged in too much ‘me time’ and must now suffer the consequences." Sage leaving her room after 24 straight hours of gaming and just hanging out and almost falling due to lack of iron.

J is for — “Just take me out! I wanna go back to bed." The group playing paintball while on a variety show episode and Teagan standing in the middle of the arena with her arms open.

K is for — "Kill me and I'll haunt you for the rest of your days, Kim Sunoo." Enhypen playing Mafia together.

L is for — "Likeee- You can’t sit with us.” Enhypen playing a game on one of her vlogs where you have to guess the person they’re pretending to be.

M is for — “MONSTER ENERGY!” Playing that one guessing game with headphones and Teagan being absolutely wrong in her guess.

O is for — “One more week of being stuck here with this *bleeep* cabeza de mierda and you will find a dead body.” Sage whilst on i-land and the boys keep eating all her favorite snacks when she started her period.

P is for — “Please, for the love of Christ, stop throwing monopoly money like we’re in a strip club!” A clip from one of her vlogs on Enhypen's group game nights.

Q is for — "QUACK QUACK HOE!" There's compilation of Teagan accidently cursing in public on YouTube somewhere, I just know it.

R is for — "RAAHHHH!!” Sage randomly using British slang out of nowhere and the boys getting confused.

S is for — “Shit..Oh fuck!…Who said that??” Her in the background of one of the other’s lives and dropping something and cursing.

T is for — "This is our village idiot—" Sage showing off her family pet, Rex, in a vlog.

U is for — "Ur joking.. Ur joe-king." The girl mimicking that one tiktok trend and dying of laughter on live.

W is for — "WAKE UP IN DAY ONE!" Shouting the lyrics to their song during a karaoke challenge.

X is for— "XYNDNDK” The girl falling out of her chair while laughing in an en-o’clock episode.

Y is for — “Yang Jungwon, I know you are not killing people without me!!!” Sage messing/joking with Jungwon when they all played Among Us together.

Z is for — "Zesty? Girl what.." Sage reading comments on live and laughing at goofy ones.

should really be named sage can't stop cursing pt.1

[deejadabbles]

The right parts (Tech x Reader) Western AU

Summary: You have been Pabu Creek's blacksmith for a long while, a fact that the local inventor, Tech, appreciated, since you were more than capable of making his custom parts.

Wild West AU with a gender neutral reader. No warnings, just sweet, awkward Tech, and first-kiss cuteness.

A.N: I've been seeing western AU stuff for the bad batch for a while, but I directly credit @emperor-palpaminty for this, as falling into their western au tag really got me inspired ❤️

If you wanna read more headcanons I have for my take on this AU, I have some here, and this might become a series of oneshots. Also, this has a bit of a steampunk-y vibe, hope you don't mind!

Most in town avoided the workshop. They were put off by the strange bangs and pops and hisses that rang behind those barn doors at every hour. Tech was treated...well enough by the town folk, but most would admit they were more put off by him than the other boys in his family.

Mostly, they just didn't understand him, his ramblings and rantings. They could admire Hunter and Wrecker's strength, Rex and Echo's veteran past, but Tech's mind? All those lofty textbooks and strange contraptions?

It was all just a bit much for the average person.

Still, most knew and appreciated how much their little town had benefited from Tech. His knowledge and inventions had helped many of them, just as much as the crops his brothers grew and the protection his cousins offered. And they appreciated it nonetheless.

But what they appreciated just as much, was the fact that you were one of the only persons willing to brave the infamous workshop.

Your satchel was hefty today, clinking with Tech's newest order, and you adjusted it on your shoulder as you lifted your fist to knock on the iron-braced door.

There was a metallic clatter on the other side, a muffled curse, and the shuffle of feet. In a groan of hinges the door opened, and there was Tech. Soot smeared across his cheek and forehead, sleeves rolled up well past his elbows, and glasses askew.

It was a true testament to how fond he was of you, that a small smile lifted his lips when his eyes met yours.

"Perfect timing," he greeted, eyes darting down to the bag resting on your hip.

Leaving the door wide open, Tech quickly turned and headed back into the depths of his workshop, knowing you would follow.

"Evening to you too," you smirked, stepping in after him.

As you shut the door behind you, you lifted your satchel off your shoulder, relishing the lifted weight. Tech's main set of workbenches (yes, set, not one simple table) sat along the adjoining wall, with blueprints, scribbled notes, broken parts, and tools scattered atop every surface. There was a clear space directly in front of where Tech stood, and that's where you set his order.

He untied the strap with care and tilted the bag so its contents rolled out with ease. The hum of approval that followed made your skin tingle just a little.

"Yes, yes," Tech muttered, lifting the first piece of metalwork to the light shining through the window, "these are just as I hoped. Exquisite work, as always." He looked over at you then, adjusting his glasses, "Then again, I expect nothing less from talent such as yours."

Your face was burning at the compliment, mouth dry even as you gave him a smile of your own. "Well, your sketches are always easy to work with," you said, reaching for the papers tucked into your vest pocket.

Tech repeatedly expressed how thankful he was that the town blacksmith was versatile in their work, as he always seemed to need custom parts for whatever machine he was working on at the moment. You were always happy to oblige, welcoming the challenge and change of pace. One could only make so many nails and horseshoes before they got bored.

While you tossed his latest specs back onto the pile of design sketches, Tech completed his examination of your work. Then, he slid off his round spectacles and grabbed his goggles, another piece of your handywork.

"As I said, your timing could not have been better, my dear," he tightened the strap, "as I'm a hair away from completing my latest project.

"Do you need any help?"

He paused as he reached for his tool set, "Oh, I- yes!" he cleared his throat, "If you don't have anything else pressing to attend to, an extra set of hands would be appreciated."

You waved your hand at the rest of the open building, "Lead the way."

Tech had, many projects. Some with thick layers of dust, some in several pieces, others he came back to often. To the untrained eye, it all looked like piles of junk, but you had been in here enough over the years that you recognized that it was just a result of Tech hyperactive mind. He had trouble staying on one project for long, though sometimes, like this current machine, he managed it.

After leading you to the very back of the barn-like building, Tech set down his toolbox beside the strange contraption. For lack of a better comparison, you likened its shape to a metal bull of sorts, with thin wheels for legs and a large opening where its head might have been. Though, if Tech heard you collating it to an animal, he'd probably raise a confused brow. He cared little for aesthetics, after all.

"If you could hold this," Tech cut through your musings, holding up a paneled section of the machine's side.

You took it from him, holding it up on its hinges so he could all but climb inside.

"Ah, now I get it," you smiled seeing what part he was working on, "you're trying to increase the pressure."

"Precisely, there was too much steam loss, which resulted in slower forward motion, which itself resulted in the wheels getting caught on every minor obstruction in its path."

You let him ramble on as he tinkered with this, adjusted that, working your new parts in one at a time. He did use your hands, asking you to press down on one thing, hold another in place, it all made the process faster.

When he was done there, Tech threw open the barn doors in front of the machine, giving it somewhere to go when he as he ran his final test. Then, he asked you to help him load the fuel source to start that test run. The thing seemed to roar to life the moment it had its food, and the gears Tech had commissioned from your last week began to turn- before stalling almost instantly.

"Oh no no no no!" Tech ran his fingers through the tight curls of his hair as he looked about, "That should have worked! Why isn't it working!?"

"Tech," you grabbed his arm and pointed to the ceiling, "you still have it chained up!"

His eyes went wide as he looked at his suspension rig, which he often used to lift machines for easier alterations. Without a word, he leapt onto the would-be bull, climbing onto its back and began working at the chains, worried something would break from the strain.

The moment the machine was free it lurked forward, gears cranking and turning- and throwing Tech off its back as it took off. Your heart leapt into your throat as he came soaring down, and your arms flew open without another thought.

With a great thud, Tech's body collided with your own, sending you both tumbling down to the dirt floor. You could smell the coal and tang of metal that clung to Tech like a cologne, being that he was laying right on top of you. He drew in a shaky breath, nose brushing against your cheek as he propped himself up on his elbow, which also just so happened to be on either side of your head.

He fixed his goggles, which had gone askew, and blinked down at you, "My apologies," he breathed, "I did not mean to-"

"Tech," you cut him off, cupping your hands on his face so you could turn it in the direction of the doors, "it works, your machine works!"

Indeed, the large contraption was grinding and lurching down the open field surrounding his workshop with great power. He let out a laugh, turning his head back to you.

"It does indeed! This is wonderful, Wrecker's next harvest will go much more smoothly now."

You were sure the way you smiled up at him was soft, too soft to be just a friendly smile, but you didn't stop yourself from saying, in an equally gentle tone, "Your brilliant mind never ceases to amaze me."

You saw him draw in a sharp breath, and thought something in his eyes...shifted. "And you, my darling, never cease to amaze me with your handiwork." Was he..was he leaning in closer to you? "Not many people can understand me, and you always do so without fail."

His eyes were half-lidded now, as he placed one of his hands over yours, which was still holding his face. You couldn't help but hold your breath as he just looked down at you, thumb caressing the back of your hand.

"Your palms, they're...rough," he whispered rather absent-mindedly.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "So are yours," you grumbled back, and watched his eyes widen.

"Oh! No, I like them- your hands, I mean. I like that they're rough."

This time your eyes held interest, and you leaned up ever so slightly, "You do, do you?"

He gulped and this time, you knew he was moving closer to you, "Yes, very much so. I dare say, I love everything about you, my sweet."

And then his lips were on yours.

They were chapped but moved with an unexpected grace. The hand that had been placed over yours moved to cup your cheek. You responded in kind, taking your own hands and sliding them back to curl into his hair. He let out a moan, a moan that caught in his throat when you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It was then that you were fully reminded of the fact that he was laying atop you. His leg moved seemingly of its own accord, pressing between your thighs in a way that had your chest stirring with something new.

Unfortunately, a sound echoed from across the field, and you pulled yourself out of your heated haze long enough to pull back just a little. Tech was not discouraged, his mind fixated on the task before him, and he simply moved his mouth to your jawline.

"T-Tech," you all but moaned, and the deep hum he gave in response had your mind spinning. He must like it when you say his name. "We- need to go catch your machine."

His breath was hot against your ear as he nuzzled your skin, "Do we have to, my dear? I am far more intrigued by my current project."

You didn't have time to unpack whether or not you liked being called his project, because you were untangling your finger from his curls to gently push on his chest.

"We can always continue this later, mr beautiful mind, but for now, I'm pretty sure that thing is heading for Cid's saloon."

Again, Tech's eyes went wide, any aforementioned lust vanishing. "Oh, dear!"

[book-place]

Surprise Celebration

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Obi-wan Kenobi x reader platonic, Anakin Skywalker x reader platonic, Cody x reader platonic, Rex x reader platonic, Ahsoka Tano x reader platonic

Request: Christmas with Obi-wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, and possible Cody and Rex? With reader as Obi-wans padawan of course

Request by: @night3owl

*not my gif*

Summary: What better holiday to surprise Obi-Wan with than Christmas?

A/N: Welcome to day 3 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“No, no, no!” Anakin complained, marching over and snatching the box out of your hands, “That isn’t how you do it!”

You threw your free hand up in exasperation, “You do it then!” You snapped back, “Beauce you’ve been yelling at me for the past ten minutes about how to decorate for a holiday that I know absolutely nothing about!”

Making a quick grabbing motion, you attempted to take the box of ornaments back, only for him to swipe them just out of your reach.

“It’s not my fault you’re incapable of following directions!” His voice was raising as he glared at you.

Cody was quick to sweep in and gently take the box from the jedi’s hand in fear of him dropping and shattering the glass everywhere.

Rex and Ahsoka just laughed from the side at the scene the two of you were causing, taking a momentary pause from hanging the paper snowflakes from the ceiling.

You huffed out a breath, crossing your arms, “Oh, because you are such a good direction follower?” You challenged.

“Better than you!”

Before you could open your mouth to rebuttal, Cody spoke up, “I hate to break up this lovely argument, but the General will be here soon.”

Recently, all of you- along with your master, Obi-Wan- had been sent on a surveillance mission to a planet that was currently celebrating a holiday called Christmas.

The five of you had hatched a plan right then and there to bring the festivities back to Coruscant to surprise Obi-Wan.

Both of your mouths snapped shut and you gave one last glare to each other before each slowly taking a step back and finally drawing your attention away from one another.

Cody let out a sigh and stepped forward, beginning to place the colorful ornaments on your makeshift ‘Christmas tree’, which was really just a fake, robotic tree. It was the only thing you could really find on the city planet.

“See?” Anakin asked, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow, “He does it correctly.”

“That’s exactly what I was doing!” You yelled back.

“Hey!” Rex snapped, “Break it up, will ya? He’s gonna be here soon and Ahsoka and I still need help finishing with these snowflakes.”

Deciding to put your small, and not uncommon, squabble behind you, you both moved over and began helping to hang up the homemade decorations.

Just then, the sound of a door opening was heard and you all whipped around with wide eyes, caught.

“What the-“ Obi-Wan drew up short, cutting himself off and freezing.

“Surprise!” You all called in sync.

“Is this-“

“Christmas!” You cheered, filling in the gap with a wide grin.

“Christmas?” His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked around at all you had done.

“The holiday that we saw being celebrated on that planet!” Ahsoka chirped excitedly, “We thought we would surprise you by bringing it back to the temple for you!”

“I-wow- thank you.” He stuttered out, still in awe at what he was seeing.

“Don’t say we never got you anything,” Anakin joked, and you all laughed.

Padawans 🧡- @spidyyparker @fabulousapple @femalemarvelself @i-writes-things

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2024 Day 7 - in the hollow of my bones

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

More from the military AU. A session with Miguel goes wrong, and Thanatos rekindles something he long thought was lost. Miguel and Solomon belong to @sunshiline-writes, Luis and Lanzo (referenced) to @crash-bump-bring-the-whump, and Rex belongs to @cyberwhumper!

contains: art therapy, ptsd, flashback, magical exhaustion, and thanatos being pathetic

also available on ao3!

Thanatos could tell it was going to be a silent session as soon as Miguel walked in the door. A night spent in the general's office rarely boded well, and today appeared to be no different. "How about we go ears off for today," Than suggested, in lieu of a greeting, and Miguel nodded. He'd been meaning to try a new angle with Miguel, something to help express emotions that were difficult. Art therapy showed promising results with some clients, and for someone who struggled with specific words and giving himself permission to express emotions like Miguel, Thanatos hoped it could make a difference. He retrieved a sheaf of cardstock and a set of colored pencils from a drawer and began to inscribe his next statement onto the whiteboard they used for silent days.

Just try to translate what's going on inside to the page. Any colors or shapes you like. I'm not looking for anything specific or grading you on what you depict. This is your time. If you want to discuss them afterward, that's also up to you, I'll be here, but you may just leave if you'd like.

He slid the whiteboard over for Miguel to read and ducked under the desk for a moment to pull a stack of files out of his briefcase. It would be less uncomfortable for Miguel to be unobserved during the process, he reasoned. Thanatos had been told that the full force of his attention could be... unsettling. If he'd been paying attention, however, he might have seen the punch coming.

During a session, Thanatos habitually evaluated micro-expressions and other nonverbal cues to extrapolate a client's internal state and make informed decisions on what sorts of activities or redirections might produce desirable results. It was part of the challenge, the game of therapy for him, seeing the person in the chair as the opponent at the chessboard. Miguel's face was rarely quiet, even if it often lied, and watching it would likely have given Thanatos a hint toward the storm of rage and pain brewing behind those dark eyes. As it was, he was caught completely off guard by the chromed fist that crumpled his glasses, then his nose, and then reared back again to go for more.

It took a moment for his mind to even register the pain, so divorced was it from its usual context. By that point, his nose was a fountain of blood. "Miguel, why—" was all he got out before the next blow, which knocked him from his desk chair to the floor. Instinct took over. He curled himself into a ball with his arms over his head, the same way he had dozens of times before in dozens of enemy camps. The difference now was that he didn't have plasma at his fingertips as a recourse for once the beating stopped. He reached for it, but as usual, nothing came. If anything the smell of blood and the submissive posture had encouraged the chrome programming to shut off any part of Miguel's brain that considered it a bad idea to beat his therapist to death, and the punches only increased in force and frequency with each passing second. His cries fell on deaf ears. He noted the irony.

The taste of iron in Thanatos's mouth only intensified. He could feel his bones crunching and cracking, shards slicing through his soft tissues. Even with his arms over his head, lights exploded in his vision and he struggled to retain consciousness, slurring Miguel's name between yelps and cries he knew were fruitless. Much more of this and he was risking permanent brain damage and death. He had to do something, this wasn't a training exercise where Luis or Lanzo would stop just short of killing him, shake their heads and tell him to do better next time. In the field, there were no rescues and no one to take pity on him. Thanatos would have to make his own mercy, like he always had.

He reached for his magic once again, stretched his awareness into the hungry void that had been left there since he'd been discharged from the war mage corps. Still empty. Not a single ember. A decade of training and nothing to show for it but the scars on his hands and his psyche. He was more powerless now than he ever had been. He didn't even need all of it! Thanatos had never sought to become a god of fire and lightning and plasma and cold like the other mages, all he'd ever wanted was the strength to protect himself, and if he was lucky, those he loved. He cared nothing for the holy sword of retribution. All he needed was a shield.

Shield magic had always been his best skill. Even when his plasma temperatures were low and his casts were inconsistent, his shields were always durable and able to be held for hours. He used them during his assignments, whatever he couldn't get done with his mind and his tongue could be solved by a well-placed barrier. Back then, he'd taken it as proof that he did have what it took to be a war mage, he just needed to alter his approach, figure out how to apply those skills to other tasks. He'd never mastered it. It had nearly broken him when he'd reached for his shields in the infirmary cot after that doomed mission and gotten no feedback. The only thing he'd ever been good at, stolen from him by his own weakness, unable to be called upon even in his direst need. He'd be lying if he said that surprised him.

Darkness encroached on the edges of his vision. Reality blurred. Was he on the floor of his office, in the training room, or in a holding cell? The familiar buzzing of his magic underneath his skin, in his blood , superimposed over the hollowness he knew was truly there, letting him believe for just a moment at a time that there was something for him to reach for. Despite himself, he pushed again, grasping for diamond, not flame, and to his surprise, his plea was answered. A dome of force surrounded him as Miguel drew back for another go, and stopped the next punch's descent in its tracks.

Thanatos panted heavily. He was far from safe, channelling the magic burned in a way it never had before and he had no way of knowing how long he could withstand it, or if and when his newly reclaimed power would desert him just as quickly as it had returned. Not to mention that Miguel was already trying to find a way into his fragile respite. He was clever, it wouldn't take him long. If the shock of having his magic work had brought Thanatos out of a flashback, the pounding on his shield had him on the verge of a panic attack. He needed... he needed help. Someone. Anyone.

Solomon.

Shaking hands reached for his phone, miraculously still in the pocket of his slacks. His communicator was on the desk, unreachable, but he'd been in contact with Sol while on leave, sending pictures of artisanal tea leaves for a second opinion. He'd never thought that ridiculous hobby of his would be of any use. But it did mean that of the three telephone numbers he had saved in his contacts (the other two being Rea's and his mother's) Sol's was one of them. He painstakingly typed out the simplest message he could through the blood on his fingers and the trembling of his hands as they struggled to maintain the cast: help . No punctuation or additional context, Sol would understand. He had to. Thanatos would never send a text that simple unless he was in genuine distress.

Chrome claws picked at the edge of his shield and he scrunched himself as far into the back of it as he could. It wasn't far. He had inches of extra room inside. Folding himself into a small space was something he was very good at by now, though. Being a trembling ball pressed into a corner of a dome, face soaked with blood and tears, didn't go very far toward making himself not look like prey, and he knew it. He was minutes from being eaten alive and there was nothing he could do about it. There was always a peculiar cold feeling that flooded him when he stared death in the face. Somehow it was… comforting. To know he was still the man he had been all those years ago.

By the time heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, Thanatos had become quite confused. Didn't know where he was. The sounds… more chrome. Two of them? This one bigger, he couldn't stand up to both of them— What could he do? Couldn't run, couldn't hide. Needed help. No help coming. No rescues.

He couldn't even uncover his eyes to see what was going on between the two of them. All he had the strength for was to lie there with his arms over his head and his blood burning, aching, screaming to keep the shield going. He didn't know if the blood still streaming from his nose was truly rotten or if that was memory, if the subtle buzzing was the barrier flickering or his blood in his own ears or the chrome. No words from outside, just the whirring of servos and the clicking of joints and the growls and whines of two dogs communicating with each other. Two… Rex? And Miguel? He shuddered, and the radius of his shield shrunk by an inch.

A soft tap on his shield, the first in a while, made him flinch harder than any of the punches. "Than? It's me, it's okay. I need to get you out of here." He wanted to get out of here, he wanted to go home. Didn't want to hurt anymore, his blood was on fire— "To do that, you need to let the shield down, Thanatos. Let me help you."

Let it down? But… he'd gotten it to work for the first time in half a decade, didn't want to lose it, didn't want to go back to being a failed mage. Thanatos had been shaking from head to foot, straining his hardest to keep the cast going, and now he needed to drop it? Give up, again? How could he be sure he was safe? He was so tired. It hurt so much. The burning and the bleeding and the dying.

"Please, Than. Let me in, I want to help."

The shield flickered. Once, twice. Then dropped.

"S-Solomon?"

taglist: @athenswrites

[emilnikos]

painkillers kicking in moodboard

[ourlordapollo]

Donald Gennaro Defense Squad assemble *nothing happens*

Anyway here's a list of all the shit Donald Gennaro has done in Jurassic Park because I hate that the movie did him so dirty

No quotes/page numbers bc I don't have my physical copy of the book handy (I'm listening to a new-to-me version of the audiobook)

Despite his vested interest in making a shit-ton of money off Jurassic Park, expressed MULTIPLE times that he would shut it down if it seemed unsafe in any way

Tried to chastise Hammond for bringing his grandkids to an untested theme park of questionable safety

Same as the first point but I'm bringing it up again because it comes up in the narration more than once. Gennaro WANTS Jurassic Park to succeed so he can make money, but unlike Hammond, he cares about the safety of potential guests

Actively chooses to go back into the park after learning that the power is out and the dinosaurs are loose, because he knows that people are in danger

Chooses to continue the rescue mission after finding Regis' severed leg and learning he was probably attacked by a t. rex

Chooses to help Dr Harding and Dr Sattler tend to Dr Malcolm and shows genuine worry about his condition

Not something he does, but rather something he is: Gennaro, as the only character who isn't an expert in something, serves as an audience surrogate. His utility as a character is in keeping the audience informed and allowing Crichton to present exposition and complicated concepts as interesting dialogue rather than boring narrative infofumps. He's also babygirl, so jot that down.

Chooses to go with Muldoon to try to shoot the t. rex with a tranquilizer

Despite being terrified, chooses to help Muldoon hunt the loose velociraptors

Chooses, without being asked, to investigate the maintenance shed after Arnold fails to get the power back on, knowing that there are velociraptors loose in the park. (Narration emphasizes how out of character all of this has been for him— he doesn't like to "live dangerously."

FIGHTS A VELOCIRAPTOR. THIS MAN FIGHTS A VELOCIRAPTOR WITH HIS BARE HANDS. AND LIVES.

Is the one manages to bluff the boat captain into turning around before he (unintentionally) unleashes live velociraptors on Costa Rica. Also helps Tim get the main power back on, saving the lives of everyone at the Visitor's Lodge

Note: Grant misses all of this except for the last point, leading him to physically assault Gennaro and accuse him of not taking responsbility for his part in the disaster. ...For not singlehandedly preventing the disaster.

No one. Including Gennaro. Refutes this. Admittedly Gennaro is actively being strangled while Grant accuses him. But Muldoon was right there watching this happen and just let it happen.

It's clear that Grant is taking out his anger at Hammond on Gennaro and nobody challenges that. And Gennaro gets Shitter Deathed by Mr Spielberg. The injustice. The injustice of it all.

[m1d-45]

To Keqing,

Hello, Keqing. I just want to take this opportunity to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for carrying my sorry self amidst many hardships when I was.. just starting out. Ah.. you might not get what I mean, but still, I wanted to thank you.

Do know that many people, not just myself, appreciate you and all the things that you have done (and will do!)

I wish you well, my dear. I hope we can meet one day, eat out together, maybe share a story or two.. and.. talk about our admiration of Rex Lapis.

Ehem!

Goodbye for now, I will see you around!

(the letter, encased within a purple envelope, was accompanied with a small box contaning a purple tassel with a gold and purple bell attached. as well as several individually wrapped candies)

[I feel like Keqing has always been looked down upon just because she's a standard banner character, but man, she carried my 🍑 until AR45 - when I finally got Xiao on his release. Even still, I use her on tough challenges because I know she will never fail on having my back. Thank you, Keqing! And yay! C6!]

to be the yuheng of the qixing is to resign yourself to being near permanently busy, always with either a stack of papers or a pen in hand. and as keqing hurries to bu’yun, the usual password system forgotten for one of liyue’s most recognizable, she’s more than aware of this fact.

her foot taps on the stone platform bringing her up to the jade chamber, the journey never seeming to go quickly enough. the sun had set, and yet she still wasn’t finished. part of her wants to flip through the folder in her hand to get a start on her assignment, but the majority of her brain scolds her that she could drop some of the precious documents and have to wait for the journey all the way back down to collect them- and then all the way back up to continue her work.

to be the yuheng is to be busy, and keqing fit the definition to a T.

yet, when she steps onto the stone of the jade chamber, she pauses. a bright floating ball awaits her, one that doesn’t display any clear origin. it doesn’t seem mechanical or elemental, nor of adeptal origin…

she takes two quick steps and picks it from the air, surprised at the fragility of the structure. it breaks beneath her fingers, the pieces dissipating into fine dust even as she tries to hold it together. in the end, she’s left with an envelope in hand and a small box that had fallen thankfully into the space between her side and her folder.

keqing sighed, but picked up the box and walked inside, heading straight for her office.

she dropped off the folder with another secretary and shut her door, opening the letter swiftly. worst case, this was a security breach. best case…

whatever she had in mind for ‘best case’ was wrong.

she wasn’t one to kiss up to gods and was more than willing to point out their flaws, as critical of them as she was of humanity. and yet, she cannot find fault in your letter. she was there for you, and had watched you get a better handle on utilizing vessels as you guided the traveller through their journey. you had helped her, and she had done her best to reciprocate in kind.

and yet, as she opens your giftbox and tries one of the candies, she can’t help but feel like she got the better end of the deal. perhaps when her workload was lighter, she could work out a way to return your kindness.

but that would be for later.

[rokhal]

Imagine if Rex transforms into a giant mecha again, for Plot Reasons, and this time wins the fight or whatever and doesn’t explode. Now he’s a giant mecha, and he knows that unless he gets real lucky like he did last time, the moment he powers back down he’ll to lose not only his memory of what just happened, but also every memory that defines his current life. But he can now remember way more than he normally does.

The way I see it, it makes sense for Rex to lose his memory after a full-body transformation if his nanites have to transfer his consciousness from meat-brain-format to something that can run on the computer system makes up his giant mecha brain, and when his nanites reconstruct his body, they don’t know how to transfer the memories back to meatware. So Rex’s human mind has trouble accessing them.

This time giant-mecha!Rex wants to fix that: save his more recent memories and regain his childhood. It’s a formatting problem. He just has to figure out how to direct his nanites to reconfigure his human brain with the ability to unzip his memory files after he changes back. This is challenging because Rex has never had this much of an inside look at how his nanites function, and now that he’s a giant mecha, he’s a little hazy on exactly how his human brain used to work.

So he like shuts down his external processes and gets to work figuring this out, meanwhile Caesar and Six and Holiday and Bobo and Noah etc are all freaking out because Rex has just been standing in the destruction of the aftermath of the fight, completely unresponsive, for like a week.

Eventually he responds to, probably Caesar, pinging his systems repeatedly, and wakes up. But he’s acting really weird because This Is Your Brain On Giant Mecha. And he’s scared he’ll step on someone.

(In frustration, Rex uploads a copy of his memories to the computer core of a nearby jumpjet, reassuring his family that he is, in some form, conscious. Nobody can read it, including, when he finally changes back, Rex himself.)

[ghostofskywalker]

Hey, so sorry to hear that your semesters been rough, I hope it gets better. I am super excited you’re doing the spring ficlets though! Could I request one with Fives and hes just head over heels for this spunky hot-headed reader. Maybe idk they’re going off on someone (who deserves it) and hes just there making heart eyes? Idk do with it what you want, thank you so much! Have an amazing week!! 💖

thank you!! i LOVED your prompt and i hope you enjoy this!!

words: 884

summary: you prove that you aren't one to be messed with, and fives falls even more in love.

clone troopers masterlist

Smitten

“You know you’re staring again, right?” Rex’s voice cut through the ARC trooper’s daydream and Fives barely even acknowledged his commanding officer. 

“What? No I’m not.” That was a bold-faced lie, and everyone around him knew it. It really didn’t help that Fives had yet to take his eyes off you as you sparred with a shiny, who had been acting like he was a lot stronger than he was. Most of the battalion knew what was going to happen when you challenged him to a sparring match, and yet the trooper did not heed their warnings that he might be a little out of his depth. A rule was set that no outside weapons could be used in the fight (since you had a habit of keeping at least three concealed on your person at all times), and the spectacle began. 

Fives would never speak ill of his brothers, but there were certainly troopers who lacked in the manners department, who acted like they were Maker’s gift to the world around anyone they thought was attractive, and you certainly fit the bill. And given the fact that you weren’t always around (because the 501st didn’t need the help of a bounty hunter for every mission they went on), not everyone knew who you were when you arrived on Coruscant for a little friendly training and bonding before you headed off with the 104th for a campaign.  

“You’re so obvious at this point I’m shocked that they haven’t noticed yet,” Rex said. Both him and Fives were watching you dodge every single punch the shiny tried to throw at you, and Fives was desperately trying to keep his jaw from dropping. “I thought bounty hunters were supposed to be hyper-aware of their surroundings at all times.” 

Fives shrugged, still not done staring. 

“Maybe they’re just as oblivious as Fives,” Jesse cut in, walking across the room to stand next the two of them. “What do they say? ‘Love is blind’ or something like that?”

“Then we may need to get them an eye exam if they really can’t see Fives’ lovesick glances,” Hardcase had now joined the conversation, and Fives was really regretting standing here right now. 

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that obvious about my feelings.” 

“Scratch that, we may need to get you an eye exam!” 

Fives was about to respond, but his eyes were still drawn to the scene in front of him. 

The shiny had just lunged at you, and it was exactly what you wanted. Grabbing his outstretched arm, you turned, twisting your body so that you were using your strength and momentum to push the trooper upward and then send him careening to the floor. To the cheering spectators on the sidelines, it was clear that you had just flipped him, sending him flying through the air and landing (quite unpleasantly) on the padded floor of the training room. Fives had seen you use that move before, and it was just as seamless as the last time you used it on the battlefield, one fluid motion that proved you weren’t one to be messed with. 

“Well, I think they won,” Jesse remarked, and the shiny hadn’t yet gotten up off the ground. Everyone knew that he wasn’t really injured, given the floor padding and the armor he wore, but rather that he was embarrassed to have been beaten out by you, to have talked a big game and gotten his shebs handed to him in response. 

You caught Fives’ eye from across the room and made your way over to him, smiling and greeting all the other troopers of the 501st that you knew. “Did you kill him?” Jesse asked playfully, nodding back at your sparring victim. 

“Oh please, I didn’t even flip him that hard,” you said, a soft snort escaping your mouth. “It’s his ego that’s bruised more than anything.” 

“Maybe you and Fives should go a round then,” Hardcase joked. “He could be knocked down a few pegs.” 

“Hey!”

You just laughed. “I don’t think I’d want to spar with Fives though.” 

“Why? You afraid I’d win?” 

Jesse tried very hard to hide his laughter at Fives’ teasing words, and Rex didn’t seem to be faring any better. “No, I just wouldn’t want to ruin your gorgeous face,” you said, a smirk playing on your lips. 

Whatever Fives was expecting you to say, that wasn’t it, and he didn’t know what to do in response, his mind completely lost for words at the implication that you thought he was attractive. 

“I think you broke him,” Rex commented a smile crossing his face at the sight of his ARC trooper completely awestruck.  

The others around laughed, and you smiled. “Wow, and I didn’t even need to pin him down to do it.” 

Fives was still trying to form a sentence in response when your name was called across the room, and you waved to another trooper dressed in grey, the symbol of the Wolfpack adoring his armor. “Alright boys, duty calls,” you said. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” 

Right before you left, you leaned in to place a kiss on Fives’ cheek, and his brain short circuited all over again. You were going to be the death of him, that’s for sure. 

- the end -