#Clone Wars Drabble

[euphoriacafe]

He loves you…but he didn’t want to love you…he can’t love you.

Rex stared at you with worn eyes as you were wrapped in his arms laying in the bed. The war was endless and it was coming to the point that every assignment he would have to go on got worse and harder to stay alive each time. One of his arms wrapped around your body and the other hand was combing through your messy hair.

He was a trooper who tried to obey the rules…to be a good soldier and follow orders.

Something was telling him the worse will come for him— that everything will change. As you laid in his arms he traced your facial features with his forefinger not wanting to forget any detail.

No.

If he doesn’t let go now, if he doesn’t leave now…if the words slip through his lips telling you he loves you…he wouldn’t be able to leave. He wants you…he shouldn’t…couldn’t…but does. His body trembled as his heart was shattering moment by moment.

Any moment you’ll wake up.

You’ll greet him with a sleepy kiss and hum him to sleep.

You were his safe space, his home, his reason.

No.

Get up.

He loves you…but he shouldn’t…he can’t…he doesn’t want to.

Without a second thought as he began to kiss the top of forehead the words slip.

“I love you..”

~~~

I’m sorry this is so angst, I’m kind of in a sad mood right now and listening to music isn’t helping much BUT I hope you all enjoyed it.

Reblogs or feedback is welcomed!

[freesia-writes]

The Hero We Never Knew We Needed: A Tribute to Bop

GIF thanks to @skybson

Word Count: 484

Minutes Spent Laughing While Writing: 19

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

The Clone Wars were a grim time, a galaxy torn apart by opposing ideologies and forceful rulers who sought to unite everyone under their own structure. Clones were created by the millions, raised at twice the speed of a normal life and thrown onto the battlefield as soon as they were able. Battalions would go forth, brother after brother falling under the relentless forces of the Separatists. Replacements were shipped in daily, as though one man could just as easily replace another, as though their entire lives were for one singular, dismal purpose. The heavy weight of conflict crushed the freedom and enthusiasm of the previously free systems, and what little joy there was to be found was fleeting, often followed by despair, death, and defeat. Wave after wave, soul after soul -- some would argue that those who survived had a harder time, somehow spared from the sweet release of death and instead forced to repeat their worst nightmare every day.

And then there was Bop.

A brave and fearless soldier on the battlefield, Bop would mow down droid after droid, dual-wielding his blasters and charging forth alongside his brothers with a fierce battle cry no matter how grisly the odds were. He was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. He fought hard.

And he played harder.

See, Bop knew how to live. His scarce time off was spent at 79s, where he could be found dancing the night away, a euphoric grin plastered across his face. His joy was infectious, and he didn’t care how many or few were on the dance floor -- he was there to start (and finish) the festivities. There were droids assigned to contribute to the jovial atmosphere, moving in their jerky rhythms to entice others to join, but they had nothing on Bop. He was CT-1999, because that was how he partied***.

He was such a battlefield hero that he was promoted to officer, assigned to a Venator-class Star Destroyer and placed over the ship's weapons systems. He traded in his plastoid armor for a slick uniform with gloves, a belt, and a gray cap, and proudly wore his rank insignia plaque on his chest. Insightful and quick on his feet, Bop was a legend. Droids feared him, fellow clones respected him, and creatures of all species yearned to be the one he would take home at night.

But Bop had only one mission. He did his job with precision and excellence, and when he was finally released to enjoy the temporary illusion of autonomy, he sought out his place of zen. His sanctuary. His place to both rejuvenate himself and restore hope and wonder to the galaxy through the delight of dance. The neon lights of 79s would illuminate every angle of his jive, painting the dance floor with his unbridled groovy enthusiasm.

Bop would die one day, whether by age or by artillery, as we all must fall. But today was not that day.

***(this line was a comment from @nika6q and was so good I had to add it)

@doublesunsets @rosechi @501st-rexster @meshlaxbunny @anxiouspineapple99 @softsunburstlove @starrylothcat @the-bad-batch-baroness @thecoffeelorian 😂😘

[ladykatakuri]

Doomdoomdoom

A small Jesse and Kix drabble

TW: None

W.C: 376

Summary: When you hear something others do not, you best go to your medic vod.

A/N: This is one of those small drabbles that can pop up into your mind when you think about certain memes, what ifs, tropes etc. I hope you all like what I did with it and as always, comment and reblogs are always welcomed 😘

"Vod, sometimes I hear this sound and I have no idea why. No One else hears it. I think something's wrong with me."

Kix looks at his brother sitting on the medbed and reaches for the handheld scanner. "What kind of sound is it and when is it that you hear it?" Starting at the top, Kix scans the entirety of the body coming up with absolutely nothing. As it is with all the clones, they are pretty much in peak condition until battle happens, that is when he will find issues with his brothers who have been injured one way or another.

Jesse sighs and takes a minute before he answers. "It's this deep and ominous sound. Like, doomdoomdoom. Can't say why I hear it, when I hear it…."  

Kix frowns as he prepares to take a blood sample. Mulling over in his head the reasons why his brother could be hearing something none of the others have reported hearing. Force sensitivity perhaps? It has been around for centuries among all the species that are sentient and why would a clone not be included in this? They are as sentient as any other race and though created by the Kaminoans, it is not as uncommon to have a deviation in the genetic makeup of one or more of the clones. Clone Force 99 being a prime example of the experiments done. It would be worth reading into.

Jesse undergoes the testing and scanning while mulling over the last time he heard the sound that none of his brothers seem to hear. Wondering if this is reason enough for him to fear decommissioning. “Kix… Do you think this could be a reason to…?” For a moment he pauses when suddenly his eyes widen. "There! There it is again! Do you hear it? Tell me you hear it too vod!"

Before Kix can try to answer the questions his brother is asking, they hear a snort and a cough. Quickly looking to where the sounds came from, they see their captain standing behind a man they did not expect to see on board the ship. Pong Krell seemed annoyed that he had to announce his presence instead of being noticed as soon as he entered the room.

Tagging: @imabeautifulbutterfly@chaoticvampirejedi@hellothere-generalangsty@cyroku@reluctant-mandalore@uponrightful@zinzinina@saradika@galacticgraffiti@ashotofspotchka@dindjarindiaries@dinbeskarbaby@djarrex@djarinsbeskar@rowansparrow@photogirl894@rigelmoonshine@rigel-the-moonstrider@nahoney22@loth-wolffe@neon-junkie@bobafetts-princess@cyarbika@charnelhouse@zoeykallus@kin-rokku@jgvfhl@honestly-shite@here-comes-the-moose@dindjarindiaries@firstofficerwiggles@fictional-men-ruin-lives @ladysongmaster @lozalot If you want to be tagged too, please shoot me a message!

[midnightdjarin]

crosshair drabble cause that man has taken over my thoughts

- crosshair is the type of guy to literally act like your bodyguard. you wanna go on a mission by yourself? funny.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He picks up his helmet, “That’s nice. I’ll meet you on the ship.”

- will absolutely pick you up and throw you over his shoulder whenever you give him attitude.

“roll your eyes again, pretty.”

so you did. the two of you had gotten a little agitated with each other on this particular mission.

he sighs and flicks his toothpick to the ground.

you see his hands reach for your waist, “what are you-“, you cut off with a yelp as he throws you over his shoulder.

“I’ll put you down when you’re done with that attitude.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

he pats the area behind your knee, “how touching.”

- LOVES to pull you into a random alcove of the marauder and kiss you like the ship is going down. any minute he can get alone with you is a blessing. idc what anyone says, this man is a gentle kisser. the kind to put his hand on the back of your head to keep you in place UGH!!!

[castiwls]

mess - a.s

Paring; anakin x reader

Synopsis; You and anakin got captured on a mission. and its all his fault

Warnings; none

Notes; I think i wrote this back when ahsoka first came out and I went into an anakin skywalker brainrot lmao. Its a quite a few months old so I apologise if this isn't the best :) (also I was thinking of cw!ani when I wrote this) requests are open!

Masterlist

A huff left your lips as you stared pointedly ahead of you. “Are you seriously gonna ignore me?” From the corner of your eye, you watched as your cellmate leaned forward. He poked you in the arm, frowning slightly when he got no reaction.

Another huff left your lips as you pulled your knees to your chest. Anakin let out a chuckle moving to stand in front of you. “You can’t ignore me forever. You’ll get bored eventually.” He teased. Your gaze slowly met his and you pursed your lips. “This is your fault. You know that right?” You tilted your head.

Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze hardening slightly. “This is not my fault. It was you who made the plan! This was your idea.” You shook your head. “Yes, I made a plan. You were the one who changed the plan.” 

Everything had been going fine. You’d managed to successfully convince the governor to join the republic and you’d managed to do it with little to no fighting for once. And then Anakin had decided to get smart. Apparently, he really couldn’t help himself when it came to separatist spies and that’s how you both ended up in a cell and in doing so you were pretty sure you’d lost the deal with the governor.

“You punched a guy! With no good reason!.” You waved one of your hands out your frustration slowly building. “He was a spy.” he snapped. “They didn’t know that!.” You explained moving to stand. “Now we're stuck here while that spy is able to strike a deal with the governor.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “A deal which I had.” you pointed a finger to yourself before turning away from him. 

You could feel his gaze on you as he stood quietly. You were both quiet for a moment before a loud sigh left Anakin’s mouth. “So this is all my fault?!” He threw his arms up. “yes! That’s what I’ve been saying!” You cried turning round to face him.

Anakin stared at you for a moment before a small smirk slowly started to grow on his lips. You rolled your eyes. “You find this funny? Seriously.”

“No. No, I don’t.” He slowly walked towards you, running his hands up your arms before he grasped your hands in his. “I just had an idea that's all.” He shrugged.

“An idea?” You raised an eyebrow. “So far your ideas haven't been very helpful.” You teased smiling  up at him. Anakin ignored you. “You wanna get out of here?” He threw a glance over his shoulder to where a guard stood.

You knew whatever idea he had, it was going to be insane. Anakin’s ideas always tended to be. “You're lucky I love you,” Letting out a sigh you nodded. “What’s the plan.”

[erosmutt]

☆ thinkin' bout . . .

. . . just arguing with husband!anakin.

𖦹 cheating, make up/hate sex, anal, doggy, asshole anakin, anakin refers to reader as 'bitch' once, specifically season 7 clone wars anakin (i won't be taking questions)

𖦹 accompanied by All I Need ⋆ Lloyd

"here we go," anakin mutters. you two had been at each other's throats for who knows how long, yelling like you'd lost your damn minds.

you glare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest. "yeah here we go anakin," you begin pacing again. "you aren't even listening to a goddamned word i'm saying, anyway!"

anakin, also with his arms crossed, shifts his weight from foot to foot, eyes narrowed. "you're acting out for no reason and you know it. you always want something to fucking complain about. always mouthing off. i could barely get in the house before you were bitching at me." well, that was true. you were waiting, itching to see him come through that door so you could lay into him.

about what? his infidelity. you knew while he was 'at war', he was fucking girls left and right. the smell of perfume you most definitely didn't own would cling to the fabric of his robes when he got home, and his bitchass didn't even try and hide it. he had no reason to, because he knew even if you did stand up for yourself and stop taking his shit, you'd come crawling back. because no one could fuck you like he can.

"am i wrong, anakin?! am i wrong for wanting to confront my husband about his little wartime adventures?" you yell, making him roll his eyes. "you're delusional, you know that? delusional!" when he says that, you immediately get in his face. "delusional, anakin? so i'm just imagining the stench of another woman's tacky perfume on you?" he chuckles and shrugs. he puts his hands on his hips. "might be. you're always cooped up in the house, probably starting to hear things."

"oh fuck you," you turn away. "those girls can have you. see if they put up with your shit like i do." he just smirks as he watches you, head tilted as his gaze fixes onto your hips and ass. "they don't," he begins in a murmur. "i don't stay long enough to give them a chance to."

he was so fucking cocky it made you want to bash your head into a wall. or his.

"is that your poor attempt at reassuring me?" you scoff. "spare me. just go away." anakin walks up to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. "come on baby, don't be like that." he caresses your shoulder, moving his hand down your bicep, to your elbow, pulling your arm back. "i'll stop, i promise." you knew better than to believe him, but he had a way of reeling you back in. no matter what you did, no matter how far away you went, you always ended up back on his dick.

he uses his gloved hand to move your hair out of the way and leans down, his soft lips pressing against the nape of your neck. "anakin, i know you-" he exhales softly. "you don't wanna give me a chance baby?" you feel him smile against your skin. you place your hands flat on the counter in front of you, voice wavering, "anakin,"

"ah-ah," he chuckles, a low vibration that draws a shudder from you that most definitely isn't lost on anakin. "i don't wanna hear anything from you." his hands end up at your hips, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your pants. "don't you think you've done enough talking?"

getting the hint, you go quiet, but still try to resist. after all, he did just come home after bending over who knows how many girls. with a heavy sigh, he pulls away from you. "so you're really gonna play it like this, huh?" anakin laughs quietly to himself. "you're such a bitch, no wonder i'm the only man who'll put up with your stubborn ass. i do so much for you, and you can't even give me the time of day?" he scoffs. "seems like every goddamned time i come home," he once again hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants, and snatches them down. "always giving me a problem," he mutters under his breath.

"maybe if you didn't give me any reason to, i wouldn't have to sleep around." was he really pinning this on you?! "you act like you don't run me away. it's like i have no other choice but to find comfort in another woman." he was removing his glove, discarding it on the counter along with his belt. his mechanical hand was cold as always as he grabbed your asscheek, artificial fingers digging into your flesh.

"anakin," you try again, but he doesn't let you get a word in. "yeah, anakin anakin anakin, you don't know what else to do with yourself besides bitch and whine." he spits down onto his flesh hand, then lubes up his cock. he smacks it onto your lower back, then spreads your ass to see your puckered asshole. "never letting me get a word in."

as his tip prods at your tiny hole, you gasp. "anakin, 's not gonna- aughh..." your words get caught in your throat as he tries to push in, and he can't help but smirk as he's met with resistance. "maybe you're right, but that's nothing a little force can't help. is it?" you swallow down a moan, and shake your head. "no, no, it can't," you let out a strangled moan as anakin pushes his round tip into you. you felt like you were already stretched to the brim, but his tip wasn't anywhere near the thickest part of his cock.

he leans over you and smiles, then presses a soft kiss just below your earlobe. "now let's try that again."

ᝰ.ᐟ @102hannah

[arcsimper5]

Clone reactions to meeting Grogu:

Rex: *looks him over, visibly confused* I thought jedi couldn't have sex?

Fives: omg omg omg omg omg omg we need to keep him, he's the new 501st mascot, he can ride on my shoulders, I NEED HIM.

Echo: You're cute, which, given nature's cruelty, probably means you are dangerous. *backs away slowly*

Jesse: WHAT IN SITH HELLS IS THAT? KEEP IT AWAY FROM ME!

Kix: *eyes suspiciously*... There is no way you're older than me.

Tup: *repeats nonsense babbling back at him while sitting cross legged and doing arts and crafts*

Dogma: It's LOOKING AT ME. WHAT DO I DO?

Cody: *stares for several minutes*... Can you hold a blaster?

Waxer: *running away with him in his arms while being persued by numerous jedi* NO! CHILD IS MINE!

Boil: You're one weird looking critter... You play sabacc?

Wolffe: *holding him up to Master Plo* General, I humbly request that this be your new padawan. Yes, I know he can barely understand basic, and that he is fundamentally useless. That's why he'll fit in with us. No I'm not being harsh.

Fox: Aw, shit! HOUND! IT GOT OUT OF THE BOX AGAIN!

[aniharas]

𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯…

drabble warnings: sexual content, implied sexual content a/n: quick drabble inspired by this scene from fast 6. but lowkey yall should lmk if you want f1!anakin. cuz i know i do.

...was something you desperately needed. you were notoriously bad at piloting ships, or any means of travel. even airspeeders, and any time you were on a mission, the other jedi would quickly offer to pilot before you had even stepped foot onto the landing ramp. so who better to seek help from but the greatest pilot in the galaxy? asking anakin was rather intimidating, since the only real interaction you had with him was sparring as padawans. after laughing at your predicament for a moment, he accepted.

but you never knew having him as your pilot’s-ed instructor would prove to be so distracting. he had taken you to the abandoned race tracks of tatooine, and you nearly slapped him once you realized where he was taking you. he quickly defended himself, saying that it was where he learned to pilot vehicles, and it was only fair that he would teach you where he taught his fellow peers.

but the sweltering heat of twin suns did you no favors for focusing. both of you stripped of your robes, down to your undertunics, adorning matching earpieces so you could hear each other over the wind. sweat dotted your skin as you slouched over in the passenger seat of the airspeeder anakin had rented out for you. as you watched him explain the controls to you, you found your eyes lingered on the way his muscles tensed as he gripped the throttle.

the longer anakin droned on about the semantics of piloting, the harder you found it to care. the dry wind that breezed past the both of you had dried out his throat, giving it a rasp that made even the least suggestive of words sexy. the way it made his hair fly wildly allowed you to get a good look at his face. the corners of his eyes crinkled from how widely he was smiling. you had never seen him so lively before, so exhilarated, so free. you felt the same way.

he seemed to know what you were thinking, gesturing for you to come to him. “come on, you try steering,” he offered.

you were about to move, but you were quickly stumped. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked shyly, looking around you. “there’s nowhere to sit.”

you weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you as you saw the corner of anakin’s lips tug upwards. “sure there is,” he replied, patting his lap twice. “just so i can steer if something goes wrong. don’t get any ideas,” he teased, slowly bringing the speeder to a stop as he undid his seatbelt.

‘how could i not?’ you were thinking as you awkwardly stuck your leg towards the driver’s side. being so close to him had you holding your breath out of nervousness, hovering over his lap slightly. you felt his large hand against your hip, keeping you steady as you lowered yourself down. 

“everything feel okay?” anakin whispered into your ear as he removed your earpiece, tossing it carelessly to the empty passenger seat before shrugging off his own. it left you shuddering at the feeling of his breath on your skin. you could hear a slight rumbling in his throat after your sudden movement.

you nodded, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. “mhm. just feeling hot, that’s all,” you lied through your teeth. all you heard from him in response was a chuckle.

after a moment, anakin’s hands circled around your wrists, guiding your hands to the steering handles. “alright. show me what you got.”

despite the feeling that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, you managed to steer your way around the track and get a few laps in with only a few life-endangering moments. anakin would mutter some of his criticisms into your ear, or he would bring his hand up to adjust the wheel slightly. although you tried your best to pay attention to his words, his low, authoritative voice had you instinctively rocking your hips.

at first, anakin tried to ignore it. you noticed it in the way his instructions would falter as you pressed against him. interrupted by a loud exhale through his nose or a curse leaving his lips. things didn’t escalate further until you hit a speed bump, the airspeeder jolting so harshly that it left you nearly bouncing in his lap. his hands instinctively went to your sides to keep you steady, but they wasted no time in slipping down your waist. with each rock of your hips, it was almost as if he was guiding them as your ass grinded against the growing tent in his trousers. you weren’t sure if you were able to withstand the tension anymore, heat building between your legs as you moved more intensely.

suddenly, anakin’s hands left your hips before gripping the steering handles tightly, his foot nudging yours off the gas. “hands off,” he ordered, voice strained. he didn’t have to tell you twice. once you relinquished control, he quickly took over, the world around you nearly turning into a blur as he began to race down the empty track. your hair whipped about crazily as you turned to face him, the utter speed pressing you against his chest.

at first, you were concerned. he was going so fast, why wouldn’t his attention be on the track ahead of him? why were his eyes solely on you, half-lidded and glazed over with what was unmistakably desire? you had a mind to tell him to focus, but you remembered he grew up here, racing for mere scraps. he knew this track like the back of his hand, and it was evident in how he steered so effortlessly without ever breaking eye contact with you. the thought spurred you on, reaching up to cup his face and press your lips against his without another thought.

you instantly regretted it, feeling how chapped your lips were from all the wind. but it didn’t bother anakin, wasting no time in devouring yours. he gently nipped your bottom lip, as if to silently ask for entrance. you obliged, your swelling lips parting as his tongue slipped its way past, exploring you in such a way that you never thought would happen. he kissed you like he thirsted for you in the desert heat, drinking you in like you were his oasis. the taste of him on your tongue left you drunk with your ever growing lust, clutching at the fabric of his tunic as if you were to tear it off. the more deeply you kissed him, the harder he stepped on the gas, the rev of the engine growing louder the faster you went.

it was exhilarating, covering dozens of kilometers in the small moments you took to catch your breath. pulling away, you traced the outline of his jaw as you laid your head on his shoulder, not minding his sweat that collected at the tip of your finger.

“d’you usually do this whenever you teach someone?” you inquired directly into his ear, a dazed smile never leaving your lips.

anakin’s equally awestruck expression broke into laughter, his melodic chuckles barely heard over the sound of the harsh wind and the pulsating growl of the engine. “just figured you wanted a different kind of lesson.”

“i might need a couple more,” you admitted before closing in, peppering slow and tantalizing kisses to the crook of his neck. 

the deep, whiny sigh that escaped his throat was something you knew you wouldn’t grow tired of. “you’re lucky i’m a good teacher,” anakin rasped out, clutching your waist tightly before diving in to capture your lips once more.

there was something about making out with the chosen one all while traveling at breakneck speeds; it invigorated your senses like no other. maybe you would take it a step further next time.

a/n: hope u all enjoyed! yall lmk if u want a second part of this drabble. also requests are open!

masterlist.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

How Dominoes Fall

Couldn't help myself and drew the angstier version of my Domino Twins art that now has 100 notes (surprisingly, ilyasm 🩷) and may not have properly tagged my self-reblog asking if anyone was interested upon reflection. (Oops, my bad sorry.)

Still getting the hang of active participation in fandom spaces and building up a following of any kind after being just a lurker too nervous to share anything for so, so long.

Appreciate the traffic I'm getting thus far and ask that you're patient with me as I find my stride and my style!

Random side note; trying to go for a fresh, glowing, blaster wound look in watercolor was a fun (/s) little challenge, don't think I'm doing that again soon.

[z-socks]

Who's Older?

We all love our Domino Twin boys, but a very important question remains: who's older? TW: very brief clinical mention of fetus termination “That’s Bantha osik and you know it!” 

General Anakin Skywalker couldn’t help but sigh as he caught wind of the argument still going on. Fives and Echo had been at it since leaving Saleucami and appeared to have yet to resolve the matter. He cast a look at Rex who seemed so exhausted he almost felt bad for making him deal with it. But these were his men and they couldn’t risk a petty disagreement getting in the way of their next mission. 

“Alright, boys, what’s the problem?” Anakin asked, approaching the ARC troopers with Rex only a few steps behind him. 

“This di’kut thinks he’s older than me,” Fives accused, shoving his shoulder into Echo’s. 

“I am older than you,” Echo insisted. 

Anakin stared at them in disbelief. This is what was causing such a stir? 

Rex sighed beside him. “Not this again,” he muttered. 

The ‘again’ worried the general. If this was an ongoing issue, he’d have to put an end to it once and for all, no matter how trivial and petty it was. 

“Echo’s number is lower. I think that makes him older,” he offered. 

The three Clones stared at him. 

“Or not?” 

Rex stepped in. “Our numbers come from our growth-jar tree designation. But not all infants on a tree are decanted at the same time. Like, if a fetus is terminated, the jar is emptied and a new embryo takes its place.” 

Well that was all very informative, but not helpful in resolving the matter. Anakin crossed his arms. “Why does it matter who’s older?” 

“It’s a matter of principle. We’re twins, sir,” Fives answered. 

Anakin raised a brow. “Is that some kind of joke?” 

“No, sir,” Echo replied. “Split zygote. A rare but not impossible anomaly.”

Fives cut in, “Like Rex’s hair.”

The captain glared at them.  

“All that means is Echo here got moved to a different jar,” Fives went on. 

“Thereby making me the oldest.”

“Transfer is not decanting!” 

“I left the jar first!” 

“To go to another jar!” 

“Okay, okay, stop!” Anakin sighed, understanding Rex’s exhausted look from earlier. “Echo, Fives is right.” 

“What!?”

“Ha!” 

“If we’re going from decanting-“

“The general agrees with me!” Fives cheered, throwing an arm around Echo’s shoulders and tussling his hair. “You lose! I’m right! Ha! I won! Against you. In semantics!” 

Echo growled, shoving out of Fives’s grasp and grappling for him, the argument turning into a physical fight until Fives escaped and ran off, Echo running after him, still belaboring his point, now with rather colorful language. 

Rex rested a hand on the general’s shoulder. “Rule number one, sir. Don’t pick a winner.” 

Anakin shook his head. “It’s a dumb argument.” 

Rex offered him a small smile. “Just hope you never have twins, sir.”

[marbled-polecat]

Echo and Fives make the spring migration to rub off all of their itchy skin from the winter. However, Fives is a pest and a menace. Echo wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Art and accompanying drabble can be found HERE!

[euphoriacafe]

Just had a sad thought… imagine one of the clones met you at 79’s or you always tried to reach out to them- then you secretly started a family with them or had a relationship- then Order 66 comes and you go to them not realizing they’re not the same person you fell in love with. If they didn't recognize or even believe you.

[phoneycam]

So i was looking for new codywan fanfiction as i usually do when i come across this post and my brain just, yes.

I love to think it was just inevitable and not really conscious. Like they don't fucking realize because why would they?

One day Cody and some of the ghost company are giving the tour to the new batch of shinies, explaining how things work, the rules, cleaning shifts, where everything is, etc.

They arrive to the bridge where the General is waiting for them with the kindest smile. This is the rutine everytime they get a new batch, Obi-Wan presents himself formally without the kaminoans presense sucking up any friendly encounter and Cody doesn't have to deal with his sad tooka eyes when the shinies are too terrified of him otherwise.

The commander is about to present them to their new general when his comm lights up showing Rex incoming transmition. He looks up to his generals comm also lightning up, they share a concerned look before answering at hte same time.

"Master! thanks the forse-" "CODY WE NEED KRIFFING REINFORCEMENTS" "Re-... calm d..wn! it's.. -ot that bad!-" "SKYW...KER JUST-... XPLODED TH-.. SHIP-"

While the shinies jump on diverse levels of startle, the veterans share an exasperated-concerned look. They had just set off cordinates to Coruscant. Obi-Wan sighs.

"It seems like we'll need to end the tour a little earlier than expected general." Cody takes of his helmet resigned and ignoring the transmitions shouting at eachother.

"Indeed commander. Guess i'll be waiting for you to join us at the war office" Obi-wan signs to Waxer and Boil to follow him.

Cody sighs and lean over to kiss his general when he passes him.

"I'll grab you a cup of tea on my way" Obi-Wan smiles fondly and returns the kiss.

" Thank you dear" He respondes and exits the bridge not realizing that one, his not being followed, two, the deafening silence he just left behind and three, the gaping group of shinies. In his defense, Cody doesn't realize either. He just smiles smitten until the doors close behind his beloved and the commander mask falls in again.

"You heard the general, change the coordinates to... is there a problem?" Rex who is still on is the first to come out of it.

"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL F-" And then chaos.

[clu-ven]

"I'm so tired..." Prompt with Captain Rex

word count: 3.2k

summary: Rex needs some goddamn sleep

-> mainly SFW with vague indications to anything spicier <-

You get used to the late nights and early mornings, everyone does. 

When you spend a lot of time going from planet to planet, it gets hard to differentiate between what’s supposed to be night and day, each rotation merging together. No matter the time, space always looks the same and with the different time zones you frequent, it’s no surprise that you’re still wide awake in what’s supposed to be the middle of the night.

It’s not just you that suffers from this, though the clones usually have their hands full with their shifts, too busy to notice their odd sleep schedules. 

So sitting at one of the desks in a quieter part of the ship, working away on some overdue paperwork while Captain Rex fills out a mission report across the room isn’t too unusual. If anything, the only thing that's unusual is how quiet it is.

Normally there’s more clones roaming around, all working on their own  reports at the individual desks scattered around the room but tonight, it’s almost empty, with just you and the Captain present.

When Rex first entered, he greeted you with a weary smile before hunkering down with his work. It’s a rare occurrence to have some alone time with the Captain, even if neither of you are doing much talking. Thankfully, the silence that hangs in the room is a comfortable one, soothing compared to the loud blasts of the battlefield or constant chatter of the mesh hall. 

Every once in a while, your eyes leave the reports you're filling out and trail over to Rex, a smile lingering on your lips as you watch him, deep in thought. 

Like always, he’s still fully suited, his helmet placed casually on the side of the desk. It must be uncomfortable to sit there for so long in his armour, though you doubt Rex cares. He’s a man who’s always ready for action, hating the idea of wasting precious time on putting his armour on. He sits hunched over his work, completely engrossed by it with one of his arms propping up his head, hand leaning against his forehead.

Rex is like a statue with his eyes glued to the holopad in front of him. His brow is creased, deep lines running across his face as he puts all of his attention into his work. 

…Work…

Damn, you need to concentrate on your work too but that’s easier said than done.

It’s a difficult task to get back into work mode but you keep your head down and at least try to fill out a few more sections of paperwork. The good thing about doing some administration so late at night is that it’s sure to make you sleepy… eventually. The mundane task is bound to make anyone want to fall asleep or it’ll at least make anyone rethink every life choice that has led them to this moment. 

Even Rex must find it boring. You’re tempted to call out to him, say some witty line about how this makes cleaning the gunships look fun but you stop yourself, not wanting to intrude or interrupt his train of thought. You don’t even look up, knowing that if you glance his way again then you’ll get no work done, your mind wandering to other places.

Kriff, even without seeing Rex and just knowing he’s nearby is enough to distract you. You blink a few times in the hopes of pushing these thoughts out of your head and focus solely on the work in front of you. But it’s no use, you’ve lost all motivation to even finish the last sentence you’ve begun. You can’t bring yourself to do it, your brain completely shutting down at the thoughts of writing a single word more. Honestly, you’re too drained to deal with it now anyways and it can always wait until tomorrow.

Shutting down your holopad and clearing up your paperwork, an unfamiliar sound comes from the other side of the room. For a moment, you freeze, trying to process what the hell the sound could be. 

Was it a snort? Well, definitely not one from laughter, it was too quiet. Maybe it was a hum from the ship… though you think you would have recognised the sound if it was. 

An array of different possibilities flood your mind and just as you look up, opening your mouth to ask Rex if he heard it too, you realise what… or who the source of the sound was. 

With his hand still pressed against his forehead, keeping his head from smacking against the desk, Rex snores again. You can’t believe it. Is he actually asleep? 

Slowly pushing out from your chair, you stand to get a better look at him. His holopad is still on, showing a half filled out mission report. You don’t try to hide the soft smile that tugs at your lips, it’s not like he’s going to see it. Peering over at him, you realise Rex is undeniably asleep, even letting out another snore to confirm it. 

Being as quiet as possible, you tip-toe closer to him until you're beside his sleeping frame. Keeping your voice a mere whisper, you stoop down beside him “Rex?”. He doesn’t respond besides a small twitch of his nose. 

A part of you doesn’t want to wake him. For the most part, Rex looks peaceful when he sleeps except for the occasional crease of his brow, as though he’s still thinking about the work in front of him.

If it was the best option then you’d probably leave him here, perhaps turn off the light and find somewhere else to do your own work, giving Rex as much peace and quiet to rest as possible. But looking at the position he’s in and the way his armour seems to dig into him, you conclude the best course of action is to wake Rex and get him into a proper bed for the night…. Or for the next few hours until the morning briefing.

Placing your hand gently on his shoulder, you try again. “Rex” you drawl out, this time a little bit louder as you nudge him. His eyes screw closed for a second before he wakes with a start, immediately sitting up right as if he got caught sleeping on the battlefield. 

“Wha- what’s happening?” He blurts out, scanning the room with urgency.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” you assure him, keeping your hand on his shoulder “you just fell asleep, that’s all”. Realising it’s just the two of you, Rex relaxes under your touch. 

Breathing easily, he slumps back in his chair, thankful you’re the one who caught him sleeping. “I’m sorry,” he apologises, rubbing one of his eyes as he mutters more to himself than to you “I’m so tired…”.

It’s as if you can feel him tugging at your heartstrings. The Captain always has so much to do, report after report, constantly trying to keep the others in check. You doubt Rex ever has enough time to get a proper night’s sleep. 

“C’mon Captain,” you stand “time for bed”.

Still groggy from sleep, it takes a second for Rex to process your words “Hm? No, no I can’t. Just uh, just let me finish this report” he tries his best to sound authoritative and fully in control but the yawn he finishes his sentence with says otherwise. 

“Captain” you sigh, a sympathetic but stern look crossing your face.

Rex tilts his head as he looks at you, still rooted in his seat. “Don’t give me that look,” he groans “I’ll be done with this report in no time”. You don’t change your expression, knowing that not even Rex himself believes he’ll finish this report anytime soon.

It only takes a few more moments for Rex to crack, averting his gaze as he mumbles “Fine, I guess I can finish it in the morning”. Putting both of his hands flat on the table, he stands with a huff.

He doesn’t protest when you pick up his helmet and lead him out of the room, guiding him through the quiet corridors and passing the various sleeping quarters until you get to his.

Reaching the door to his quarters, it takes Rex a very drawn out minute to punch in the code. He grumbles under his breath as he does, blinking hard in an attempt to keep his eyes open and focused on the keypad. You stay quiet, not wanting to distract him and instead you let Rex take on the dreaded keypad on his own. 

With the keypad’s beep of approval, Rex sighs in relief when the door begins to move.

The heavy metal door effortlessly glides to the side, revealing Rex’s compact room. It’s not exactly what you were expecting, the room being pretty cramped even though there’s hardly any furniture inside. Sure, there’s a sink and mirror so Rex doesn’t have to shave with the others, a small trunk presumably for his extra set of blacks as well as a bed that’s built into one of the walls and spanning the width of the confined room. Yet it doesn’t seem like enough.

Slowly wandering into the room, Rex glances behind him to make sure you follow him inside. Rex deserves a much bigger room than this, kriff, most of the clones do but you always thought his quarters would be bigger since he’s the Captain. But you don’t turn your nose up at the room, finding it quaint and liking its closeness. As you put Rex’s helmet on top of the trunk, he sits down on his bed. 

“Thank you… for well, for forcing me to get some sleep” he chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling.

“Anytime Captain, I’ll see you in the morning” with the bow of your head you turn to leave his quarters. You nearly make it out of his room when a thud sound causes you to stop and look back. With his eyes already shut, Rex has flopped down onto his bed, his legs dangling off the side and his armour still on. 

You sigh to yourself and turn back around to face him, making your way back over to the drowsy captain. “Rex,” you say softly, nudging him yet again “you know you shouldn’t sleep in your armour”.

While your main goal is to get Rex to sleep for a few hours, you didn’t mean in his armour. You’ve heard enough complaints from the likes of Hardcase and Jesse to know that even napping in full armour can cause a few sore muscles and lingering knots. 

Rex opens one of his eyes, gazing up at you but making no attempt to move. “Am I dreaming?” He asks, mouth half muffled by his pillow. Putting both hands on his torso, you try to gently pull him back up to a seated position. 

“You never know,” you tease “maybe this is a nightmare”.

Rex smiles to himself as you hoist him upright, knowing that couldn’t be the case. “But this can’t be a nightmare if you’re here” he shrugs, stating it as if it’s fact.

You’re taken aback by his words but you try not to show it. Rex could have meant a million different things by that or he mightn’t have meant anything at all, simply the incoherent ramblings of someone on the verge of sheer exhaustion. But deep down, no matter how much you try to deny it to yourself, you wish it means something. 

“Well, luckily for you it’s neither,” you force a smile, pushing those emerging emotions and desires deep down “you’re just tired beyond belief”.

Rex hums in relief as you work on getting his pauldron off. He savours your touch as your fingers brush against his blacks, fiddling with the ties of the armour.

This isn’t a situation Rex has ever found himself in. No one has ever taken off his armour for him with such care. He wants to watch you but Rex opts to keep his head down, instead focusing on the sensation alone as you remove his pauldron and start on his chestplate next.

Breaking the silence, you tease him again “I swear Captain, you better stay here and get some rest or else you’ll have an incident report to fill out”.

“Is that a threat?” He questions, though you can tell he’s not serious by his tone. You scoff, shaking your head but your smile remains bright “No, it’s a promise, Captain”.

Rex chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He’s thankful for you, someone who doesn’t treat him like he’s just a number and willing to joke around with him from time to time, not always falling into the professional role of the GAR. 

You treat him like a friend and sometimes, Rex wonders if that’s how you see him. Not as a colleague or a Captain, but as a friend you could turn to in times of need, that you could always rely on to make you smile or listen to your problems. Maybe that’s why Rex’s chest always seems to grow tight when you’re around or why he always scans an area to see if you're near, hoping to spot you in the crowd. He nods to himself, determining that’s why.

“You ok, Rex?” You ask, dropping more pieces of his armour to the side of his bed.

He looks utterly exhausted and you’re sure you can hear his brain clocking into overtime. With tired eyes, Rex is quick to assure you “I’m alright, just have a lot on my mind”.

“Is it that mission report?” your voice is so soothing to him. Even at the mention of the half complete mission report, Rex doesn’t feel an ounce of stress, too busy relishing in your voice. He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling “I guess”.

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll get done, they always do” you try to reassure him “and I’m sure General Skywalker won’t mind if you hand it in a little later than usual”. As much as Rex wants to worry about the report, he finds it hard to concentrate long enough to stress about it. 

With the top half of his armour off, you pause. Technically, the next piece of armour you should be getting off is his codpiece but you don’t think that would… *ahem* be in line with GAR policy. “You think you can handle it from here or should I keep going?” you ask, a touch of playfulness in your voice. Rex meets your gaze, his lips twitching upwards into that little lopsided smile he does every now and again.

It’s as if electricity surges through his body at your suggestive remark, his brain suddenly jolting awake as he tries to quickly decipher what you could be insinuating -if anything, that is. “Oh I- well, uh,” he stumbles over his words, clearing his throat before trying again “Y-yes, I’m sure I can take it from here, thank you for your uh, for your help”. 

He hates how he can’t get a sentence out properly, becoming more undone by the second. Usually Rex can easily keep his head in times of intense stress but with you? You always know how to seamlessly get under his skin, making him get flustered even with a mere glance in his direction.

You bow your head, taking a step back from Rex. “It’s no problem, Captain” you reply, giving him one last smile before you turn to leave yet again.

This time you nearly make it out of the room, the durasteel door sliding open before you hear Rex call your name. With one foot out the door, you stop and turn to look at him, waiting for him to say more. 

Rex opens his mouth though no words come out. He doesn't know why he called out to you, well, he does deep down but he’s not ready to face those emotions just yet. He can feel his face getting warm and he prays you don’t notice his cheeks turning a light shade of red. 

“I-” he doesn’t want you to leave, not now. Can’t you stay just another few minutes? Or until he falls asleep? The bed may look uncomfortable… which it admittedly is but there’s enough room for you too. 

But he knows he can’t, that if any superior found out then you’d both be reprimanded. Or what if you reject him? How is he supposed to look you in the eye after the embarrassment of blurting out something so impulsive yet vulnerable just to be rebuffed by you?

Becoming increasingly aware of you waiting for him to speak, Rex forces the words out “Don’t stay up too late”. Maker, he wants to kick himself.

“Oh,” you weren’t quite sure what you were expecting Rex to say but for some reason that wasn’t it. Though you stay professional and nod to him “I’ll try not to, Captain”. You step out into the hallway, holding his wishful gaze until the door swiftly shuts between you both. A breath you didn’t know you holding, shakily leaves your lungs.

You try to shake the feeling that maybe Rex wanted to say something else, doing your best to shrug the feeling off as being nothing more than your own fantasy. 

The sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts and you whip your head to the side, noticing a surprised Echo standing only a few feet away. “Did you just…” he trails off, not fully believing his eyes before slowly continuing “leave the Captain’s quarters?”.  A knowing smirk quickly forms on his face and Echo folds his arms.

Panic hits you as your eyes go comically wide. “What? N-no, it’s not like that, Echo!” you hurriedly profess.

The smirk doesn’t leave Echo’s face. “Woah, like what?” he asks, innocently “I’m just saying what I’m seeing”. You roll your eyes, too tired for his teasing.

“Echo...” you warn.

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me!” he chuckles, his smirk changing into a comforting smile “just be glad it wasn’t Fives who caught you, the whole battalion would know by morning if he found out about this”.

“There’s no secret to keep safe! Nor is there anything going on for Fives or you or any other trooper to ‘find out’ about” you try to clarify, a silence hanging in the air before you quietly add “but thank you… I would appreciate it if you kept this between us”.

With a wink, Echo continues on his patrol “You know I will”.

You sigh in relief. The last thing you or Rex need right now is a rumour. Running your hand down your face, you try to wake yourself up as you turn to head back the way you came. You know you can trust Echo but you also know how perceptive Fives is and how easily he can detect whenever Echo is keeping something from him.

But right now that isn’t something for you to think about, knowing you’ll stress yourself into oblivion if you do. Instead, you try to focus on one thing only; finishing off Rex's mission report by morning.

[midnightdjarin]

you know what’s not talked about nearly enough? HOW HOT TECH IS IN S2 EP4 WHEN HES RACING??? LIKE HELLO?? I NEED HIM??!?? SO BAD??!!??!?

[anstarwar]

Bonding time for the commanders

Wrote a thing for it on the fly, not edited at all, but was having fun thinking about their dynamic...

"So, um, what's it like in there?" Barriss asked casually, flicking some dirt from her skirts.

Gree, who was lost in his datapad entering some note about a leaf he just discovered, only replied with "hmm?"

This is how their conversations usually went, much to Barriss' frustration. She'd been...commander (weird)...of the 41st for three months now and had gotten no further in breaking through to her fellow commander.

Maybe this is just how it was supposed to work between Jedi and Clones? They had a job to do, she reasoned, so maybe the clones didn't want to be...friends? That didn't feel right to her, but nothing to be done about it.

"Never mind," she cleared her throat, wrapped her robes tighter around her shoulders and went to find Master Luminara.

+++

Two months later...

"Do you want to see, Commander?" Gree asked as he examined the visor of his helmet in his hands. He'd spent the better part of an hour fiddling with the wires, scrubbing the dirt away, and touching up scraped off bits of green paint.

Barriss looked at him, eyebrow arched in question.

"...my bucket...helmet. You asked a few months ago and...well, if you're still curious." He answered, rolling it around in his hands.

"Is it ok?" Barriss replied, hesitant.

Gree wasn't sure how to answer that. Helmets, to the clones, were personal. You didn't share yours with anyone just willy-nilly. They were designed for protecting a very vital part of their body (though Gree was convinced some of his brothers didn't use their noggins as often as they should, so he's not sure how effective they were for those particular troops), and tweaked and customized to each wearer's specifications. They were as close as anything to a prized possession for many of them and "is it OK" wasn't as simple a question as it sounded.

But Gree had also spent a month trying to get to know his little Commander. Well, little wasn't quite the right word. Barriss was fearsome, strong, and wise beyond her years - but she was small, barely coming up to his shoulder. She was too young to see the things they saw on a daily basis, and it pained him to know she also had to live this life. That, like the clones, she wouldn't truly know what it was like to be a kid. It was like a blaster to the gut the day he realized she also didn't have much choice in the matter, and that she was working so hard to hide her own pain and worry.

It hit him one day that maybe she needed reassurance just as much as his own troops. Not from the fighting or the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring, but from her own self-doubts and insecurities. She was his little sister, his vod'ika. So he'd decided he'd do what he could to reassure her and, he reasoned, that meant breaking down his own walls and getting to know her. To build trust.

"Yeah...yeah its ok, here just..." Gree moved to place it on her head, but paused. "...don't know if it'll fit over your robes there, Commander."

Barriss laughed. "No I suppose not." She scrunched up her nose, an expression Gree observed she'd make when she was coming to a decision.

"What about..." Barriss pushed back her hood and unwrapped the robe from around her shoulders.

"Here," she said, extending it out to Gree with a shy smile.

He took it, holding it in front of him like it was a specimen he found on the underside of a lartie, and not a piece of cloth. He arched his brow at the Padawan.

"You're sharing something important with me, so it's only fair I do the same, yeah?" she said in explanation.

Gree nodded, but wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it. He shook it out, not sure what he was expecting it to do, but it felt like the best option. It wasn't like he'd never seen or held a cloak before, but this belonged to a Jedi, his Commander. Was there some sort of protocol or etiquette he should be aware of?

Barriss chuckled. "You can put it on and I'll put on your helm-bucket?" She looked into the visor of the helmet as if it would tell her what to call it. "Bucket," she nodded, turned it the proper direction and plopped it on her head.

"Whoa," crackled through the vocoder as things flickered to life on the HUD. Scrolls of data came through, lights blinked here and there --indicating what she wasn't sure. It was a lot and she felt the urge to rip it off of her head to stop the onslaught of information. She thought better of it, though. Gree had trusted her with it and she didn't want to make some egregious error in etiquette or cause offense.

She centered her breathing as her eyes adjusted to the flashes and pings. "Oh my god," her hand flew up, smacking the aerator, unused to the extra bulk around her face.

Giggles erupted from the vocoder. "Commander Gree you, haha, you look...well..." Gree shifted, pulling the hood of the robe over his head while simultaneously flicking the edges of the robe over his pauldrons. He was struck, suddenly, by an urge he hadn't let himself feel since he was a cadet.

Grinning mischievously he stuck his tongue out at the young commander. "I look amazing! I think I might keep this." He flapped the edge of the robe at Barriss.

"I didn't say..." Barriss lifted the helmet and held it propped on the top of her head. She stuck her tongue out as if that would make him give the robe back.

He stuck his tongue out in return.

"Click click." Gree and Barriss' whipped their heads around at the sound.

"Lookin' good commanders!" Captains Styles and Grey stood, barely suppressing their laughter, Styles holding up his datapad, clearly having just snapped a holo of their superior officers.

"You are going to delete that holo right now, Captain!" Gree grumbled, pushing the hood back from his head.

"You are going to send me that holo right now, Captain Styles!" Barriss said as she strode over to the clone, holding out her hand. "Can I see?"

"Sorry Commander, but the Commander outranks you," Styles looked at Gree, eyes twinkling with glee, as he handed the datapad to the Padawan.

"Oh, yup, you're right Commander Gree. You do look amazing!" She beamed as she took in the holo.

Gree sighed, he knew when he was defeated. Pulling the purple hood back over his head he straightened and marched off towards camp.

"Hey! Your bucket, Gree! I need my robe back, hey!" Barriss yelled as she chased after him.

+++

oops this was way longer than I meant. If you made it to the end here, thanks for reading!