#and he knows bacara too well

[hastalavistabyebye]

Holos #2

Ao3 version

Neyo yawned loudly. Like every time, he despised the morning’s early hours for depriving him of caff. 

He was grateful to Generals Stass Allie and Ki-Adi Mundi for organizing those joined leave breaks, when their battalions could meet on some deserted planet close enough from each other's positions. 

But land installments meant no personal caff machine. And the commissary wouldn't start serving breakfast until a few hours still. 

What wouldn't he sacrifice to see his ori’vod a handful of times more often ?

At least, it wasn't cold this morning. He wouldn't freeze in just his blacks. Neyo breathed out one last sight before putting on his boots and leaving his tent.

It didn't take him long to find Bacara. There really was only one place he could be this early. Neyo walked silently to the large tree his ori’vod had chosen for the day. Once seated next to him, the younger man flashed a few battle signs. No talking permitted at this time. 

“Sitrep ?”

“Clicking sound. Hear ? Lau bird.”

Neyo snatched his comm to check what this little fucker looked like. He didn't know a bird could imitate the sound of weak plastoid snapping so well. Right when he was checking the holonet for answers, a pointy elbow poked into his ribs. He looked back up with a scowl, ready to tell his brother where he could shove his elbow already, but was stopped by Bacara signing “Look !” while pointing in the direction of the canopy above their heads. 

A tiny, colorful bird flew gracefully in front of them. The blue wings catched the slowly rising sunlight in a rainbow of cheerful shades. It executed a few circles, each time smaller, before settling down on a bright green leaf the size of Neyo’s thigh. 

He could accept that this specimen was quite pretty. 

At his side, Bacara raised his own comm slowly, as to not frighten the bird, and took a holo.

That was new. 

The victorious and thrilled look on his ori’vod’s face kept Neyo from saying anything. It was their peaceful time after all, it would be a shame to break the quiet tranquility surrounding them so soon. 

He watched the little bird make its clicking sounds a few times before flying away again, comfortably settled, shoulder to shoulder with his ori’vod. 

–

A tenday later, the entire 91st Mobile Corps was knees deep into some sticky, foggy bog of nightmare. The mud was infiltrating absolutely everywhere. Neyo was damp, cold and all in all not having a good time.

So, when during a lunch break Ponds started smiling softly at his comm, it was deeply suspicious. Neyo leaned in his direction a little bit to check what was making his vod look like that. He got a glimpse of a holo of some pretty bird that definitely wasn’t native to this horror of a planet. It looked more like a desertic species, the like that could be found where Bacara was currently deployed. 

So that was what those holos were for, huh. 

@rooksunday thank you for the bird watcher Bacara headcanon :D I love it !

[fynsh]

Currently reading a lot of Coruscant Guard fics

What if upon receiving info about their assigned positions the whole command batch came up with a strategy of regularly switching posts while on Coruscant.

Initially it's to provide cover for the expected medical emergencies (because Coruscant is safe) or if they'll be in need of different talents for specific long-term missions. Cause even after receiving the same standard training, all of them have specialized in different areas. Not enough to be noticed by outsiders since the batchers know how to secretly provide info and apply eachother's shared knowledge immediately.

Of course it doesn't work out because:

- Some Jedi unexpectedly pay way more attention to their commanders and men. General Kenobi spots Cody in the mess and goes to sit at the same table. Even when the clones switch around he recognizes everyone instantly, so Cody is staying on The Negotiator permanently. One of the best things coming out of this is the opportunity to meet up with Captain Rex and the 501st

- Wolffe sustains an injury that they won't be able to cover like they usually do with other tattoos or scars and after losing almost all of the 104th decides to stay and rebuild his battalion with a very protective General Koon

- Ponds is finds himself suddenly taking over responsibility for the most feral kid in the galaxy. He sometimes wonders if Boba distracting Sing before she could actually shoot him was an elaborate ploy to get a better chance to kill General Windu himself or if the boy actually cared about his not-brothers (Boba cares a lot)

- Bly cannot for the life of him stand motionless during another debate in the Senate without going crazy cause he just cares too much about every honest voice being silenced by corruption and greed. His general also seems to watch him closer than others do and he takes the chance to try to learn more about the war efforts from the perspective of the Jedi council

- Bacara, Monnk, Gree and Neyo are on missions taking them to the other side of the galaxy, so far away that they barely make it back to Coruscant. They can't even enter the batchers' secret communication channels most of the times

- Which leaves Fox to become the "permanent" Marshall Commander of the Corries. He guesses it's only fair because more than half of the awards and decorations on the wall of the office were rewarded for his actions. The other half are mostly thanks to Thorn and Bacara being reckless but highly competent idiots

- Thire, Stone and Thorn joke they got stuck with the most uptight of the batch but later realize that Fox strict approach is keeping their men relatively safe. Cause Fox realized very quickly that Coruscant is in fact not safe

- Everyone else takes a whole lot longer to catch on to the not so subtle dangers stretching their claws from the very inside of the Republic's heart, especially with the Guard starting to drift apart from the GAR silently. It takes the CMOs meeting and drinking too much moonshine to finally connect the dots of why the communication lines went mostly dead

- Cody immediately starts strategizing for escape scenarios and researches uninhibited planets. He needs to survive any possible scenario so he can reunite his brothers. His general notices. Rex does as well

- Wolffe is furious and the wolfpack starts finishing their rescue missions in record time to get to the homefront as quickly as possible. He stops drinking alone like he sometimes did and starts accompanying all of his actions with softer words than usual. His general notices

- Ponds is shocked and starts taking to the shinys more. He also asks Boba about his point of view cause the boy definitely notices things a grown man doesn't. He starts sending regular updates about the developments of the general public's moods and tries to find ways to engage in a positive way with the natborns to bring attention to the men fighting a war for them. His general notices

- Bly is sad and starts reading up on all political and especially civil rights debates he can get his hands on. His general notices and asks her master if he has more intel on current developments in all parts of the galaxy. General Vos hasn't been on Coruscant since the start of the second year of war but draws the conclusion he should dig deeper into the heart of the republic

- Bacara is seething and keeps perfecting his already optimized battle plans. The marines train to annihilate droids by hand. He also keeps stocking up on medical equipment. His general doesn't notice

- Neyo doesn't acknowledge feeling anything. He starts tinkering again. He's looking for ways to design communication and transportation devices from all the droid scrap they usually leave behind on the battlefield. He even learns Jawaese. His general doesn't notice

- Monnk and Gree are determined. They comm eachother and start researching on how to survive long term in unknown environments and writing guides on how to identify edibles plants, safe water supplies, how to test for breathable atmosphere and which species like to live in symbiotic or peaceful ways with humanoids. They mask it as personal interest. Their generals notice

- Fox is panicking. He needs to find a new way to keep Hound from being decommissioned for Grizzer peeing in front of a senator's door the second after a natborn noticed their carefully crafted loop hole to switch designations of fallen brothers for the ones they could still save in the official documentations the Guard issues. He hasn't slept or eaten in two days as his comm blinks with the notification of a General striding through the Guard's front door like he belonged among the Corries. He has no time to deal with whatever the Jedi council wants from them but Thire is already on the brink of breaking down scanning data pads for a new loop hole so he grabs his helmet and runs to stop the force user from asking his questions at the wrong time. Not-his general notices

No idea for an actual plot. Just wanted to think about some hurt/comfort and competent clone commanders being brothers before being soldiers

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

So Far Away: Part 1

Okay I keep reading the fics where Fox is named Dar’Vod after the Fives incident

And it keeps running in my head but imagine:

Rex, in the heat of his anger, calls Fox dar’vod and that’s the last he’s ever spoken to Fox when he’s alive

Their friendship is ruined and Rex, despite regretting the words, doesn’t try to fix the relationship and Fox throws himself into his work to avoid Cody’s prying of what happened

Well, the empire rises and Fox dies by Vader’s hand and Rex survives - guilt-filled - because Fives was right and he doesn’t know if that meant Fox was under the chip when he killed Fives or not and he never got to make amends and figure out the truth (and Rex knows it’s his fault and it’s just another burden added on that he’ll have to carry)

What I’m saying is: Fox stuck in a limbo, unable to march on because being named Dar’Vod means he is unwelcomed

And all the Vod’e - those who have died or are dying - pass him as they go to the Vod’e

Most All have tried to free him, tried to redact the title

Cody, most of all when he died, stated that the title was never meant to be given and Fox should be able to March on and yet when a barrier separates him from his vod’ika, he screams

Even Fives tried coming back to remove the title - talking with Fox for hours about he never blamed Fox for his death but still Fox cannot march on

It’s only when Boba (who died an unfortunate death by Vader earlier than he was meant to and knew a bit more of traditional Mando culture than his clone brothers) tells them only the person who gave Fox the title can remove it

And so the Vod’e wait

They wait and watch as more Vod join them

Echo (which was a cheerful reunion for the Domino squad)

Hunter (who got shot protecting Omega)

Omega (who took it upon herself to off herself to prevent the Empire using her - first thing she did was punch Boba for leaving her behind before learning of his unfortunate death which still makes her mad but not as much)

Howzer

Thire (the last of the Corries to have died but he gave a hell of a fight)

Bacara and Neyo

More and more and it dwindles to only four clones left

Gregor comes first, cackling and the 212th rejoice his return

Wolffe follows and he gets his Wolffepack back

Rex is stubborn though

He clings to life like it’s all he has, searching for the last clone because he refuses to leave a brother behind

Ahsoka helps him where she can, pointing him in directions that she can vaguely feel Kix but she has her own battles

And Rex searches

And he remembers

And regrets

And says his remembrances

He always includes Fox in his remembrance because while he was young in the war, time has brought a new perspective to their life and he knows that Fox was young too

Young and under the thumb of Palpatine

And so he searches and remembers and regrets

[veny-many]

Wolffe: They says Kel-Dor can live for hundreds if they are great Force user.

Wolffe: So it means that even we all live peaceful, my General will outlive us...

Plo: Yes, but we will make sure you will fulfill the rights and happiness you can make in your lifetime.

Wolffe: General...*tearing in eye*

Rex: Brother, in that case many of us would be outlived by Jedis.

Gree: In my case, Yes, he would definitely outlive us.

Anakin: Hey, don't think about it heavily. Snips will outlive me so your in same ship with me, Rex.

Yoda: Many of my friends joining the Force, I already saw. In great times of my memory, they will be always remembered. You too, even after the long time we will part apart, I will remember.

Gree: We would be honored, General...*tearing in eyes*

Anakin: Yes, I would be too, Master Yoda.*tearing in eyes*

Ahsoka: And I will always remember you, Skyguy. Even the most chaotic and disappointing times!

Anakin: Wow, I have a faith you will do that for me.

Plo: Ah, you makes us proud with your kindness, little 'soka. :)

Neyo: Many of us emotionally weeping over Jedi's kindness. Not that I can't understand, but still feels like idiotic.

Wolffe: Because you're Neyo, right? You always hides your sensitive emotions with your cynical words.

Neyo: What, you're the one who has reputation of grumpy Commander.

Wolffe: Hey, at least I'm being honest!

Bacara: Stop it, it's rarely peaceful evening. You are always bickering each other.

Bacara: Well, in my case, I don't think I need to worry about same thing.

Ki-Adi:

Wolffe: *gasps*

Gree: *gasps*

Rex: *gasps*

Bacara: ...That doesn't mean you should die earlier.

Ki-Adi: Of course I know lad

Wolffe: Quick! It's rare chance to mock Bacara again!!

Neyo: Aww, Bacara, you still struggling to communicate?

Bacara: Yes.

Bacara: And I will make sure your Generals outlive you all, RIGHT NOW.

Wolffe, Neyo: *running for their lives*

Ki-Adi: But what about the peaceful even- nevermind not that I can stop you.

Yoda: Joyful evening, we have. Cherish, we should.

Anakin: Yes, and it's also chaotic. And I LOVE it.

[vodika-vibes]

A Little Miracle

Summary: After the Republic is reformed into an Empire, you are stuck working with the same men, under the same Commander, you worked for while in the GAR. Unfortunately, Bacara doesn't seem to remember that he loves you. And it's becoming too hard to handle.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was looking at all of my requests, and just, none of the characters I had requests for were speaking to me, and smut just wasn't coming out of my brain today for some reason. So have this instead, a project I've been working on for over a week!

“Commander,” You try not to quail under the stern gaze of the man standing in front of you, “I respectfully disagree. This is a horrible idea, actually.”

The former member of the GAR, and currently Commander of the Imperial Army, pins you with a glare that would have made a lesser person run away screaming. And honestly, the only reason you aren’t running is because you’re right and you know it.

“You have a better idea, Corporal?” Commander Bacara asks, his voice low and gravely, and you can’t help but wonder when the last time he spoke was.

“I do, sir.” You say, “Sir, it’s Life Day.”

His gaze is cold, “And why should I care about a natborn holiday?”

“Because, sir, it means that no one will pay attention to a small group of people sneaking onto the planet.” You say, “And…and, sir, it’s everyone’s holiday, not just a natborn one.”

Some of the ice thaws from Bacara’s gaze, though it quickly returns, “And what’s your suggestion?”

“Send me and one other person.” You say quickly, “We get in, meet the contact, and get out without starting an incident.”

He pins you in place with a severe look, “I suppose that might be a good idea,” He says grudgingly, “Do you have a suggestion as to which of my brothers you go with?” There’s something acidic in Bacara’s voice, and you flounder slightly, because you’re not sure what you did to earn his ire this time.

“I…my understanding is that you would choose the best man for the job.” You offer, hesitantly.

His scowl deepens, “I assume that you’re not going to go wearing armor?”

“No, of course not, sir! I’ll be wearing regular clothes.”

Bacara stares at you, hard, for a moment. And then he nods, “Wait in the hanger, I’ll have someone meet you.”

“Yes sir.” You salute and then turn and hurry out of the room. Hopefully it’ll be someone you can actually work with.

Once upon you were a soldier in the GAR. Once upon a time you were tasked with protecting the Republic.

That felt like almost a lifetime ago.

And while you’re not happy with the Empire, you didn’t sign up for this, you’re stuck. You can no more leave the Imperial Army than you can keep the sun from rising.

At least you still work with Bacara. Well. Under Bacara.

But he’s not the same man he was before the Empire took over. He’s colder, and he looks at you like he doesn’t recognize you.

You miss the man he used to be. The man who would tug you into his quarters and steal your breath with deep kisses. The man who would murmur jokes in your ear when no one is paying attention.

The man who would hum your favorite song to settle you when things were too much to handle.

You missed the man you fell in love with.

And you’re beginning to fear that you’re never going to see him again.

You slip into your quarters, somehow you don’t have to share with anyone, and you pull the pretty dress your mother sent you out of the closet. It looks out of place, mixed with the stark white of your military uniform, but you’re glad you have it.

You hurriedly pull the dress on, as well as some tights and your heels, and you pull your hair out of your regulation bun, allowing your hair to tumble around your shoulders, and then you hurry to the hanger.

The halls are empty…as is the hanger.

It’s nice, if not a little eerie.

If you close your eyes you can almost hear General Mundi walking over to you to discuss a novel that he read recently, or you can hear the shinies joking about which one of them was going to be the first one to get your number.

You release a shaky breath, ignoring the ache in your chest with the ease of long practice when you hear footsteps behind you.

And you start in surprise when you see Bacara standing there in civilian clothes. He pauses when he sees you, and you mentally prepare yourself for the insult that is inevitably coming your way. 

But instead he winces and touches the side of his head, “You look…nice.”

You blink at him, “Thank you, Commander. So do you.” He looks more like Bacara than he has since Master Mundi’s death. “Um…are you ready to go?”

“You can’t call me Commander if we’re going undercover.” He says flatly.

You wince, “Yes. I know.” Except the last time you called him by his name, he verbally tore you a new one, and you’re still reeling from the hurt of that. “Bacara, then.”

He nods once, slowly, and motions for you to take the lead. Which you do, without much of a second though.

True to your predictions, there are a lot of people out and about. But no one is giving either of you a second look.

Bacara’s hand is warm on the small of your back, the heat sending jolts of electricity up your spine. It’s been ages since you’ve been this close to him. But it became necessary after a group of tourists pushed themselves between you and Bacara.

“There are more people than I would like,” Bacara grumbles in your ear.

“Relax,” You reply, “They’re just existing, no one is even giving us a second look.”

His hand slides to your hip when another group of tourists threatens to push between you, and it sits there comfortably, as though that’s where it belongs. “I know. The contact is at this party, right?”

“That’s what the intel says.” You agree.

“Great. Come on, the party is this way.” Bacara guides you through the crowded street, until you reach the open air party that this planet is known for. It’s loud and thrumming with an excited energy that you don’t think you can match…not this year at least.

Once upon a time you would have loved being here with Bacara. You would have tugged him onto the dance floor and spun around with him until he was flashing that secretive little smile at you, and you were giggling and breathless-

But that Bacara doesn’t exist anymore. 

You tear your gaze off of a young woman and her beau, feeling your heart break as you watch them spin around on the dance floor, lost in each other. You swallow the bitterness and the tears, and you cast your gaze up to the taller man standing at your shoulder, “Do you see our contact?”

Bacara slowly tears his gaze away from the dance floor as well, and he looks down at you, “No. Not yet. We might be early.”

“Ah, well…it looks like there’s a snack bar. Would you like something to drink?” You ask, “Or eat?”

“Something to eat would be nice.” He says after a moment, “I’m going to go over by the side entrance. You can find me there.”

“Right. I won’t be long.” You smile at him weakly, before you turn and head towards the table. You’re able to feel his gaze on you, and when you turn to look back at him, to see why he’s staring at you, you see that he’s rubbing his temple again.

You bite your lower lip, concerned, but turn back to the table. Luckily, no one seems too keen to bother you as you grab two wine glasses and some sandwiches. 

And then you walk around the outside of the party to get back to Bacara, who is still rubbing his head. “Com-um…Bacara,” You say slowly, setting the drinks and food on a nearby table, “Are you alright?”

He glances at you, “Just a headache. I’m fine.” He grabs a glass and takes a sip, “Have you seen our contact?”

You watch him for a moment, “No. No, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just keep your eyes open.” 

You settle on the stool at the table, absently shredding your sandwich as you keep your eyes on the dancefloor. The longer you watch the couples dance, the worse you feel, until you can feel the tear pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“If you want to go dance, I’m not going to stop you.” Bacara’s voice is flat.

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

You press your lips into a thin line, “This just…isn’t how I foresaw my life going.” 

“We’re lucky to have the positions we have,” Bacara’s voice is low and chiding.

You lift your chin, “Yes sir.” And then you hesitate and you turn to look at him, “You don’t…you don’t remember me at all, do you?”

Bacara stares at you silently for a moment, “Is there something to remember, corporal?”

You flinch as if he had just struck you…and honestly, his punching you likely would have hurt less, and you quickly look away, “No. I guess not.” You slide to your feet, “Excuse me.” You slip away before he can say anything. You don’t want to hear anything that he has to say.

You wander around the party, taking in the decorations and the ice sculptures, and, before you realize it, you’re standing outside the party, looking out at the crowds of people.

It would be easy, you realize suddenly. You’re dressed just like most of the other women out there. No uniform. Nothing marking you as a soldier at all.

It would be easy for you to vanish into the crowd. 

You take a step towards the crowd, when a strong hand wraps around your wrist. You whip around to look up at Bacara. He looks…conflicted. And slowly, very slowly, he releases your wrist, and it falls to your side. 

“I won’t stop you, if you want to leave.” He says, “You’re not made for military life-”

“...right.” You whisper. “You could come with me.” You offer.

“I am a good soldier-”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and then you spin on your heel so you’re facing him, and you reach up to press your hands against his cheeks, “You don’t remember me, Bacara!”

“I don’t-”

“You once promised to take me dancing,” You say, and this time you don’t stop the tears from falling, “Properly dancing, you said, not the secret dancing in your quarters late at night, after General Mundi went to sleep and we’re both two sheets passed tired, but we’re together so we dance.”

His hand comes up to brush a tear off your cheek, and it only makes you cry harder.

“You used to love me, Bacara, and I don’t know what the Empire did to you to make you forget, but I can’t do it anymore.”

Bacara’s other hand comes up to cradle your cheek, and slowly his forehead lowers to bump against yours, “...Corporal-”

“You used to call me cyare,” You whisper, “You used to tug me into empty rooms just to steal kisses and would whisper jokes in my ear to make me laugh after hard missions and would hum my favorite song when you thought I needed a pick-me-up…”

His grip tightens slightly, and for a moment his face twists in pain. 

“If you can’t give me that again, if you can’t be that man anymore, then please, let me go.” You beg, “I deserve more than this.”

Bacara says nothing for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut and his face twisted in pain, and then, after a whole minute, his eyes open.

His grip softens, and Bacara slowly strokes your cheek, “My cyare,” He whispers, pain and guilt and horror in his voice, “My beautiful, perfect cyare.”

You look up at him, and there’s recognition in his eyes. Recognition and more than a little guilt. 

“Cara?” You whisper. 

He smiles at you, and wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb before he leans in and presses the sweetest kiss against your lips, “I did something awful, cyare.” Bacara whispers.

“We can run. No one will ever make you do something against your will like that again. I promise.” You say.

Bacara stares at you, and slowly he nods. Quickly he shoves his comm, and yours, into a dumpster, and then he leads you into the Life Day crowds.

Within days, both of your faces are going to be plastered from one side of the Empire to the other, listed as deserters, but at least you’ll be together if nothing else.

[ninjababypowpow]

Um if the ask game is still available?

The Fox caught au please and thank you

WELL

Actually Fox Cauggt is my incredibly witty title for the sequel to Foxhunt.

I know, sometimes my own wit astounds me. Basically what is planned is...well, aftermath stuff. Debriefings, slooooow respectful courtship of Fox by Bacara while all Fox really wants is for Bacara to rail him up a wall. Thorn and Cody GET IT ON once more (this may or may not include Thorn walking up to the chatting batch, throwing Cody over his shoulder and carrying him off for ravishment) AND

A competition. Because while the GAR got an up close and personal view of Fox being super badass, and news about the Corries' treatment get out, most of them either still harbor some misguided ideas about the Corries' competence or find it hard to break old habits.

Planned are several different testzs of skill - agility, speed, endurance, hand to hand, marksmanship, and knowledge about the galaxy between different battalions and the Corries. The two winning battalions will then have a hand to hand spar between their Commanders, and the one who wins that wins the competition. You might guess this does not go as the GAR expected. Here's a little excerpt too XD

But the problem with things was that they kept happening, one after the other, and nothing short of hurtling himself down from the highest tower of the Jedi Temple would make that stop. Case in point: the fierce blue Jedi Healer - Master Che - had insisted on reviewing every single one of the Guard’s medical files and she kept finding things that were apparently horrifying and telling the Council about them, who then in turn told their Commanders because apparently having the Force meant you lost any sense of what was your business and what was not. And this then led to everyone knowing about it, because no one  gossiped like a vod with too much free time and now his Corries kept coming to him or the other three Commanders because they had crying apologetic GAR vod’e hanging off of them and wanting to reconnect. Fox would have told them to just kick them out, but he couldn’t make two steps currently without tripping over a batchmate himself, and they kept looking at him like Grizzer did when someone accidentally stumbled over her because she was lying obnoxiously in the way.

[lesquatrechevrons]

rugby au musings

something about me: I LOVE sports au, especially when I haven’t played in 10 years lol

the commanders!! (Non exhaustive list) (more squads under the cut!)

Cody: scrum half (domineering and in the thick of things, of course - he would be one of those scrum halves that basically captain it all)

Fox: fly half (much like the above, except he truly is everywhere at once running the show. *never* on the same team as Cody; if on a Corries only team, then Stone is his scrum half)

Thire, Ponds and I’m chucking Bly in this one because of his canon scope visor: fullbacks all the way! Deep in the back, the Hail Mary of defense, patron catchers of long drop kicks, and drop kickers in turn - can get dirty by running to the backs to create a defense line

Thorn: the dude with the canonical wings MUST be a winger, he might be a canon heavy gunner but this dude yearns to fly across the pitch and deliver all the schemes that Fox lil dastardly fly half heart can think of. And Doom would be a winger too - just on vibes!!!

Wolffe: epitome of the 8th, this guy controls the scrum from the back, knows where the ball is - I would say Comet and Sinker are flankers much for this reason.

Neyo: I am tempted to put him as n 8 as well except he’s canonically a mean sonova trained by death watch and whose battalion is Urban Guerrilla All Day All The Time, so I think he’s going to be right there in the scrum, Hooker with the fastest foot in the galaxy (the need to get the ball from the other’s side hooker and nudge it to the second row/n 8)

Colt, Bacara: they feel like props (first row scrum) to me, but they also have such second row/wingers vibes. at this point could be either forwards or backs - it really depends on the body type!

if torrent was a whole team:

Rex: imma gonna put my full face paint for this one 🤡 and say that Rex is a fly half like Owen Farrell was during the last World Cup. Rex secret weapon is a deadly drop kick.

Fives: I’m incredibly torn on this one because I feel like him and Echo would be stunning scrum halves! I’m going to go with scrum half for Fives and flanker for Echo, but they’re the kind of players that truly can be everywhere at once.

Kix: fullback 5ever, this dude is seeing the bigger picture, he’s got your back, he’s your last chance, and he gets underestimated at everyone’s peril

Jesse: another mr n 8!!! It’s all fun and games until that ball rolls his way and then he and and Echo and Fives get in the flow, that ball moves of independent will!

Hardcase: hooker! In the thick of things, he would get a massive kick out of the position name alone, and he would get to wreck havoc!! His tackles are intense!

Dogma… him I was thinking second row (the dudes that get flown in the hair during line outs (the side ball thing)) but he and Tup would be such a wings combo!!! Dudes can run!! and Dogma would be such a fastidious tackler, he would know all the Rules (rugby rules have the capital R), he would tiptoe just the line to not get carded!

Dominoes <3: Hevy is a prop (next to Hardcase! What a duo!!!); Cutup is with Kix with the backs, and Droidbait Is Second Row (behind Jesse and in front of Jesse!)

bonus:

Alphas: They Would Be Playing Rugby League (the vibe is any Sam Burgess flying fist, but especially the World Cup one in against SZ)

Nulls: Aussie Rules (They Are Minding Their Own Stuff Slightly To The Left Of Everyone Else - and a sleeveless kit ;}c )

[flashthescalesian-art]

Silence (a.k.a Jax has rejection sensitive dysphoria)

Jax has ADHD, and I also have ADHD, so of course I had to dump my RSD issues onto Jax too because traumatizing my OCs is how I cope when something is bothering me. I’m not gonna go into detail about my personal issues (I’m okay, just struggle-bussing it through life), but sometimes no matter what anyone says, RSD still manages to convince you that you did something wrong when someone stops talking to you. (Bob belongs to @thehannalyzer, btw, he’s not mine. (Also, I’m not trying to make any commander mentioned out to be a “bad guy” or “mean”, just so we’re clear on that. This is from Jax’s RSD-clouded POV, I’m not bashing anyone else mentioned))

—————

“Something’s bugging you,” Blazer said in lieu of a greeting when he walked into Jax’s office and leaned on the desk with both arms, one hand supporting his chin as he stared at Jax. 

Jax avoided eye contact and tried to pretend he was busy working. Go away. 

“Hey, genius, you and I both know you hate paperwork, so there’s no way you’re so focused that you didn’t hear me.” Blazer grabbed Jax’s datapad and pulled it out of his hands before setting it facedown just out of Jax’s reach. “You gonna talk to me or do I need to make you talk?” 

Jax glared up at Blazer. He looked genuinely worried, if annoyed, and Jax instantly felt guilty. What am I doing? Why am I pushing him away when he’s not even someone I’m mad at? Sighing, Jax rubbed a hand down his face, trying to stay composed enough to explain what was going on in his head. “The others are barely speaking to me. Or, it feels that way, anyway.” He shrugged. “I dunno if I’m just overreacting or if they’re actually ignoring me.” 

Blazer frowned sympathetically as he absently rubbed the scar on his chin with one finger. “Okay. Are they just busy? It’s not like things have been quiet for anyone lately.” 

Jax shrugged again, a lump forming in his throat. Force-dammit. Can’t talk about osik without crying. No wonder the others see me as a baby still. “I don’t know. A couple of them said they’re busy, but others… I haven’t heard from a few of them in weeks.” His eyes stung, so he scrubbed at them with one hand. He felt Blazer’s hand rest on top of the hand that still held his stylus for his datapad. 

“Who haven’t you heard from?” Blazer’s voice was gentle, so gentle. 

Jax couldn’t look at him. “F-Fox. And Bob. And— and Bacara and Neyo.” 

“Well, you told me that Thorn’s been worried about Fox too, so I doubt he’s ignoring only you if his twin is worried about him. Plus you mentioned that Thire sounded worried.” 

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Jax asked bitterly. 

Blazer gave a soft sigh. “Yes and no. It’s not a good thing that Fox seems to be ignoring Thorn and Thire too, but it does mean that it’s probably nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re upset about.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Jax mumbled, still barely holding himself together. “Even if Fox isn’t mad at me, that doesn’t explain everyone else.” 

Blazer squeezed Jax’s hand. “It is possible that Bob is avoiding talking to you since that fight you two had. It might be good if you don’t talk to him for a while anyway.” 

Jax instantly felt guilt wash over him like a wave, so he buried his face in his arms on the desk, pulling away from Blazer. “I don’t wanna talk about that. He hates me, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Sure, Bob had sent multiple apologies after the fight, but that was nearly a month ago at this point. Jax hadn’t really responded since he wasn’t sure he believed Bob, and after a month of silence, it felt even harder to believe that Bob didn’t hate him. 

“So what if he hates you?” Blazer’s voice took on a fierce tone that seemed to color his words any time Jax mentioned that he thought Bob— or any of his brothers, really —hated him. “You don’t need his approval or attention. Same goes for Neyo and Bacara. If they don’t wanna talk to you, that’s their issue, not yours. You didn’t do anything to them.” 

Jax simply wanted to melt into the floor. He knew Blazer meant well, and some angry part of him agreed with Blazer, but he couldn’t shake the little cadet voice wondering why his older brothers didn’t seem to want to talk to him, or why he always felt like they looked down on him. Just the thought of never speaking to any of his older brothers again made that little voice cry out in agony. “But I don’t want to lose contact with them,” Jax whimpered into his arms. 

“If they’re not gonna put in the effort, why should you?” Blazer asked, his raspy voice nearly a growl now. 

Jax felt tears escape, so he pressed his face harder into his arms. “Because I love them,” he whimpered, feeling pathetic. 

He heard the soft thunk of Blazer’s vambraces on the desk, then footsteps that stopped at his side. A hand rested on his shoulder. “You don’t owe them anything. If they don’t want to talk to you, that’s their choice. Don’t let them drag you down. If they don’t think you’re worth the effort, then it’s not a relationship worth stressing over.” Blazer’s voice was much softer now. 

Jax tried to take a breath, but it came out as more of a sob. “But what did I do wrong?” It didn’t make sense that his older brothers would just stop talking to him, so he had to have done something to make them want to stop talking to him. Right?

Blazer grabbed Jax with both hands and carefully guided him out of his chair and onto the floor before pulling him into a tight hug. Jax didn’t have the energy to resist, so he simply buried his face in Blazer’s shoulder. “If you can’t think of anything you did wrong, you probably didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes it’s not your fault when people don’t want to talk to you anymore.” 

“It still feels like it’s my fault,” Jax choked out, clinging to Blazer. 

Blazer simply held him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Jax could only cry harder.

[calamity-aims]

vague prompts >:) 1/7/16 whichever. give me the joncara i beg i am but a starving peasant

HIHIHIHI CHEERI have all of them >:)

"You've Fallen."

His master's voice is dispassionate, as always. As though she'd always expected Jon to Fall eventually.

He doesn't think he's Fallen. He doesn't feel any different, but maybe that's the point.

He'd never satisfied her expectations. This - this attachment is just one more failure in the long, long list of Jon's inadequacies.

It seems like it will be his last. Dark Woman's face doesn't twitch from its set mask, even as she lunges forward with lightsabers drawn.

Jon will never draw on his Master, he's too well-trained for that.

Motionless, he waits for his death, and dies with the name of his failure on his lips.

"-Jon? Jon!"

Someone's shaking him roughly and speaking in a voice that is definitely not Dark Woman's. Jon's eyes fly open - even in the dark, he can make out the familiar planes of Bacara's face, limned in thin moonlight.

Oh. Just a dream, then.

"Sorry to wake you," Jon mutters, ducking his head. Bacara doesn't say anything for a long, long moment. His gaze is heavy and dark in a way that has nothing to do with the lack of light.

"You were calling out, in your sleep," he finally says. "You said my name."

Jon ducks his head away. "I-nightmare. Sorry."

"Don't. Don't say that, not to me," Bacara says, his rough voice striving for gentle and falling short. Strong arms pull Jon closer, until his back hits Bacara's chest and a leg is thrown over his thigh. They must look ridiculous - Jon is almost a foot taller than Bacara, but it's Bacara who curves around Jon's long frame like a solid, well-muscled jetpack.

"Was is Dark Woman?"

Jon's throat catches. It's not always her. Sometimes he dreams of the future, dark slashes of prophecy that haunt his waking hours. But usually -

"Yes," he whispers.

"I'll kill her," Bacara promises. He says it like a fact, with no emotion, his voice perfectly level and cool. "I'll kill her if she comes for you."

The matter-of-factness makes Jon shiver, makes a kernel of warmth bloom hot in his chest. He turns his face towards Bacara's with a muffled whine, until Bacara's mouth finds his in a drawn-out kiss.

"I've got you. You're safe now," Bacara whispers into Jon's neck.

"I know," Jon says, and smiles in the dark.

[prompt list here]

[panther-os]

Any thoughts on Clone and/or Jedi language?

Too Many of them 😅

The biggest thing on my mind for trooper languages right now is that Jaster was a Journeyman Protector and so was Jango's bio dad, so Boba, the Alphas, and any CCs or CTs the Alphas trained directly most likely speak JP dialect Mando'a like Bacara does. I have sound change rules written up for converting standard Mando'a to JP but I need to finish transliterating the established dictionary before I can feed everything to Vulgar and generate the remaining vocabulary.

I think besides Mando'a, the clones probably haven't been exposed to many languages besides Galactic Basic and various common languages like Shyriiwook and Gand where the speakers can't translate themselves due to structural differences in the vocal tract.

For Jedi, I've created [counts on fingers] four? Sleheyr, Kimpian, Dyungzilyu - three! I've created three languages for various slave communities in the galaxy (inspired by fialleril's Amatakka) that are spoken by different members of the Jedi Order. Not all of them, as they're all closed languages, but enough that there's a sort of cultural exchange going on in the Temple. Those that aren't rescued slaves themselves are trusted rescuers who have been taught by Elders.

Sleheyr uses custom phenomes and is spoken by the Prosmyi (sky-children) of Sleheyron and is integral to my OC Taio Pallas. Kimpian uses Farsi phenomes for the most part and is spoken on Nar Shaddaa and in one of my WIPs, Nico Diath offers to get permission from an Elder to teach Eeth Koth, who was born a slave in my headcanon. Dyungzilyu uses Mandarin phenomes with slightly different spelling (but just as many diacritics) and is spoken on Bandomeer.

I'll actually share a snippet real quick. This is a giant time and dimension travel groupchat epistolary fic. This is 10yo Anakin (one year post-TPM) and 49yo Obi-Wan (eleven years post-RotS), while Taio is from 1½-2 years post-AotC and is the same age as the Anakin in her time. Aayla, Eeth, and the clones are from one year post-AotC while Nico is roughly three years pre-AotC.

Anakin Skywalker: Yithai, bliv gey yi kid muv beyng thev mim. Okay! I’m gonna practice it!

Taio Pallas: Don’t forget to tell your teacher that you want to meet me and Kalo, he’ll be able to schedule it with Master Nu. You’ll also need to tell him you have a tracker and need to have it removed, he probably doesn’t know.

Kenobi: I can confirm that he does not. Also, Anakin, if you want to get his attention, call him yēngun. It’s Dyungzilyu for teacher.

Taio Pallas: You too?

Kenobi: Unfortunately, I had an eventful Padawanship.

Windu: Bandomeer was your initiatehood.

Kenobi: That, too. Really, though, it was only a year.

Taio Pallas: Mine was only two, and I don’t remember it. You were trusted enough to be taught the language, which makes you one of us.

Aaylas’ecura: Ca jehsa eyi ca jehsa eyi ca jehsa eyi

Eeth Koth: Jee-jee vaa tula goola.

Anakin Skywalker: U settah huttese?

Eeth Koth: I do. I don’t remember if my people on Nar Shaddaa had their own language or what it was. I was three when my parents abandoned me on the streets instead of killing me like Master ordered, and four when I was Found. I only know that much because I told my Finder and they remembered and made sure to tell me when I was old enough to ask.

Nico Diath: Could’ve said something. You want Kimpian, I’ll see if I can find an Elder or Keeper on my way back to Coruscant, get permission to teach you.

Gree: So many culture, language, and history subchannels, this is great.

Taio Pallas: And of course the Vode are welcome, too, since you all come from a background of slavery.

8826: Well I wanted to but now that you’ve said something…

Gree: Don’t be a bastard, Neyo.

Bacara: He can’t help it, it’s his one setting.

Taio Pallas: I thought it was funny.

Anakin is practicing a Sleheyr greeting for meeting a fellow slave for the first time. Aayla is saying "one of us one of us one of us" in Ryl, and Eeth is saying "we can start a band" in Huttese, after which Anakin asks if he speaks Huttese.

I do also think the large number of languages spoken in the Temple results in a lot of mixed metaphors and a constantly developing creole formed primarily around Force-based jargon. Pretty much every Jedi is canonically multilingual, but this would be yet another reason for it.

Besides that, I'm a huge fan of the already existing Dai Bendu, which I hc is also a ceremonial language for Miralukka due to their shared history with the Jedi Order. (And I've crafted a fully developed Miralukkan common language as well. And a Kel Dor one. And a less developed Trandoshan one.)

If I let myself talk about languages any more, I'll never shut up. 😅 Thank you for the ask! This is one of my passions and another of my special interests (as I'm sure you cannot tell (sarcasm)) so I always love talking about it.

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

would u pls subject Gree to Spar >:D

Gree is talking to General Chewbacca of the Wookie forces when both he and the Wookie catch a high pitched whistling noise coming towards them. It’s not a missile whistle, but it doesn’t keep him from bracing himself and looking around.

Chewbacca, though, looks up and holds out his arms.

An armoured Mandalorian crashes right into the Wookie’s arms and then proceeds to laugh maniacally. “Thanks for the save, Chewie,” the Mando says as he’s sat on his feet.

Gree isn’t great with Shyyriwook just yet, but the droid he has helping translate tells him that Chewbacca’s answer is “Who tossed you off?”

Both look up at the trees above them.

“It’s more accurate to say I tripped,” the Mando says. Then, he adds, “While catching one of the younger ones who insisted on following us.”

Gree vaguely remembers hearing that there was some kind of right of passage happening that day, but he hasn’t met any of the group involved.

He certainly doesn’t remember a Mando being involved, though. “Uh, General Chewbacca?”

Chewbacca and the Mando both turn to him, though he’s sure that the Mando is hardly named Chewbacca.

“Do you want me to introduce myself?” the Mando asks with a wry kind of lilt. The more he talks, the more familiar his voice seems. It’s different from the clones’ flash-training influenced accents, but it’s familiar. Like a higher pitched Commander Bacara, from the holomeetings they have.

“<<Yes,>>” Chewbacca says, a word that Gree has picked up along with the words for no, please, stop, down, and careful.

The Mando sweeps off their metal bucket, revealing a face Gree immediately wants to describe as like if a clone were a woman, with a rounder face and longer hair and lots of jewellery. He heard there were women Mandos on Kamino, but he’d never met them, and he’d heard Fett had adopted a clone—did he pick up one who came out a girl? “I’m Akaanik’sha Fett,” she says cheerfully. “Jango’s my older brother. You can call me Spar, most clones do.”

Okay, so not the adopted clone. Or a clone at all, apparently. That fits way better with the armour and the jewellery. Gree can’t imagine even an adopted clone getting to wear things that most natborns, especially Mandos, find precious.

“I didn’t get to do the typical Wookie right of passage last time, well not the typical way,” Chewbacca nods at that, “the last time I was here, so since we have some time and we were back in the area, Chieftain Tarfful suggested I come along this time.” Spar smiles cheerfully. “I think it’s not meant to be.”

Chewbacca’s more complicated roars are translated again by the droid. “You have a warrior’s spirit, to help as you have.”

“You’re too nice, Chewie,” Spar says. Then she looks back at Gree. “Thank you, by the way, for your work here. I was more worried about getting someone off planet, so I couldn’t do much when the Separatists arrived here. You guys’ arrival, and then Commander Grey’s help when things followed us, were of great help to the people affected, and you’ve done good work here with the Wookie warriors. I’m proud of you.”

Gree’s been hit by plenty of droid fire since coming here. He’s gotten quite a few blows to the back by over-enthusiastic Wookies.

Those last four words are like a punch to the gut, more of a shock to his system than any of those. He doesn’t know why, but it is. It’s not something he ever expected to hear from anyone, especially not a Mando.

Especially not a Fett.

He swallows. “It’s, ah. It’s a real nice placement, you know?” He likes getting to learn about people so different from him. The Wookies have been incredibly accepting of the clone troopers stationed here, especially when he looks at his trips to check on those with the Trandoshan Army on Dosh. He gets to be as curious here as he wants and he’s learning a lot.

Spar smiles again. “Good.” She slaps Chewbacca hard on the back. “You take care of these boys, got it?”

Chewbacca laughs. “<<Of course!>>”

And then Spar is wriggling out of their way, headed back off into the village very purposefully and cheerfully, adjusting a Wookie bag over their shoulder as they swing and jump around.

“She’s…interesting,” Gree says.

Chewbacca blinks. “<<She?>>”

Gree blinks back at him. “Is Spar not a woman?”

Chewbacca considers that. The droid translates what he says as, “The Jedi called Spar he and him.”

Ah. Gree covers his face with his hand; this is embarrassing. “Don’t tell him I made that mistake.”

Chewbacca laughs again.

(I’m accepting clones to subject to Spar until Friday.)

[hastalavistabyebye]

Holos #4

Ao3 version

Jedi Council Groupchat :

Mace : [sent an image]

[Image description : A holo of Commander Ponds from behind, the angle and slight blur indicate that it has been taken quickly and discreetly. The Commander is carefully crouching behind a mossy log, in a thick forest. He is holding up his comm to take a holo of a space duck and its row of playful ducklings swimming in the river, beyond the log.]

Mace : don’t worry if your commander is a bit distracted later, @Ki-Adi

Depa : oh, the light looks wonderful ! Ponds must have taken a beautiful picture :D

Mace : he is getting quite talented isn't he ?

Ki-Adi : I was going to send you the same message. 

Ki-Adi : [sent an image]

[Image description : from a similar angle as the precedent image, Commander Bacara is face to face with a frilled-neck lizard of impressive size. The animal seems to be showing off its beautiful collar to the Commander who’s dutifully taking a holo of it.]

Kit : the spots on that lizard’s scales are a shade quite reminiscent of Lighting’s paint, isn't it ?

Depa : oh yes. Ponds started that tradition from what he told me :)

Ki-Adi : Commander Ponds’ message had been well received.

Ki-Adi : [sent an image]

[Image description : Bacara is looking down at his comm. He doesn't seem aware of his surroundings in the slightest. A small, private smile is softening his face.]

Shaak : aww oh cute ! He looks very handsome like that.

Ki-Adi : I have managed to get a glimpse of Ponds’ holo, @Mace @Depa. It’s a beautiful display of talent, indeed. Do send my admiration to your Commander. 

Baby-Wan : I wasn't aware that Commanders Ponds and Bacara were particularly close. They weren't squadmates from what I've heard. Are they exchanging holos often ? 

Mace : [sent an image]

[Image description : Ponds can be seen standing in a clearing. He is smiling brightly at his own comm and seems to be bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. Around him, a few troopers are doing they’re best to look away as innocently as possible. Some can still be caught taking discret pictures of their Commander.]

Mace : @Ki-Adi message well received here too :)

Stass : @Baby-Wan you should know by now that Bacara is part of the very tight circle of Vode of whom not much can be learned in the Rumor Mill. 

Stass : @Ki-Adi @Mace, Neyo is thanking you both for the blackmail material.

Ki-Adi : of course.

Mace : our pleasure. 

Depa : @Baby-Wan is our renown Negotiator not on top of the latest gossip ?? *gasp*

Depa : Pondsy and Commander Bacara have been courting each other for close to a year now :D 

Depa : they’re being very cute about it too <3

Plo : it is good to see them both so happy.

Yoda : nature admirers, are they both mmh ?

Ki-Adi : Bacara is a very competent bird-watcher. I have understood that Ponds is fascinated by reptiles and amphibians but generally likes to exercise himself at wildlife photography. 

Stass : Neyo told me that Ponds started his courting by sending a holo of a gecko to Bacara. It had become their thing since then :D

Stass : @All both Commanders are missing their shared breakfasts in the Temple by the way. We need to give a well-earned leave to the marines stat. 

Ki-Adi : it would be greatly appreciated indeed. I haven't seen Commander Bacara this happy and relaxed in well past a month.

Ki-Adi : [send an image]

[Image description : Bacara is still looking at his comm but the focus of the holo has changed slightly. It shows a little group of marines smiling brightly among themselves, their posture relaxed. The direction of their warm gaze makes the source of their pleasure evident.]

Ki-Adi : it’s one of their favorite topics of conversation. 

Shaak : aawww

Plo : I agree with Shaak, they're very adorable. 

Baby-Wan : and me who thought that the marines weren't much for gossiping…

Yoda : rusty, your informers are, my grand-padawan. Not careful with knowledge, you are. Better, I thought of you. 

Kit : master you shouldn't burn Obi like that when you know he won't go to the medbay. 

Baby-Wan : understood. Please excuse me, dear masters. I have some matters to take care of. 

Baby-Wan : @Mace @Ki-Adi rest assured that I will be utterly careful to not share Commanders Ponds and Bacara’s courting to anyone before they had the time to do it themselves. 

Stass : oh, so Commander Cody really does not know about it ? Neyo had his suspicions that the rest of their batchers hadn't caught up but I still believed it was too big to be true…

Plo : should we now proceed in the next leaves planification ? 

Plo : and do you have holos of the Commanders together ?

Shaak : I concur with Plo. 

Mace : absolutely.

Mace : every master needed for this is already present, we should start now. 

Depa : I have an amazing picture of them in the Hall of a Thousand Fountains, hold on !

[sundownsquad]

Here's an ask for the squad in general - have you guys seen or even met any 'famous' Commanders or Jedi? If so, how was it? And is there someone in particular you'd like to meet once?

Knox: We have, yeah!

Kess: We met a bunch of the command batchers when we were in training. Part of the programs were to have the commando squads square off with the commanders for cross-training. No one was famous yet at that point, though. Everyone was still trying to make a name for themselves. Competition was pretty fierce with that bunch.

Knox: I got paired up with Commander Bacara for a sparring match, once. I was faster, but he packed one hell of a punch. And he was relentless. Don’t think anyone has ever been that determined to beat my ass. But I also don’t think he was expecting me to put up that much of a fight, either. We went 11 rounds before the trainers finally called a draw. He wasn’t happy about that, let me tell ya. Normally I wouldn’t have been happy with a draw either, but I felt like a pile of mashed potatoes by that point, so it was fine. Lol Now I can say I survived a fight with a marshal commander, though, so that’s something.

Speedy: yeah that was a hell of a fight

Speedy: i ended up doing marksmanship drills with commander blitz at one point

Speedy: picked up some great techniques from him for using dual pistols

Speedy: and i got to help him improve his quick draw which was cool

Speedy: oh hey kess didnt you get to meet jango once

Kess: I didn’t meet him directly, no. He was overseeing a training exercise I was in. At the time, it felt like such a privilege to get to train under his instruction. Super weird to think about in hindsight. Dodged a big-ass blaster bolt there, I guess.

Drums: Yeah, no kidding. I don’t really remember the commanders I met that well, but we have gotten to meet some Jedi masters! We’re at the Temple frequently enough that we run into folks. Mostly because of Master Eeridos, though. She knows everybody. Lol

Nitsani: She’s got the in-roads since she has a seat on a couple of the advisory councils. She interfaces with the High Council members pretty regularly.

Drums: She actually arranged for us to train with Master Rancisis recently! He’s an expert at Battle Meditation, so he was able to help us refine our Mind Bridge technique.

Nitsani: I was rather giddy about getting to work with him, not going to lie.

Knox: Me too, that was awesome. One of these days I’m hoping we’re in town when the 212th are planetside, though. Their hand-to-hand combat is legendary, I’d love to talk to some of those guys.

Speedy: they were in town the last time we were at the temple

Knox: Wait, really?

Speedy: yeah I saw general kenobi in the hallway

Knox: What??

Speedy: i saluted him and everything

Knox: WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!

Speedy: i had lunch with commander cody too

Knox: No you didn’t, shut up

Speedy: yes I did

Speedy: he regaled me with stories of all the droid punching hes done

Knox: Speedy, I swear to god

Speedy: it was great wish you could have been there

Knox: I’m gonna kill you

Speedy: he was showing me his special drop kick technique

Speedy: and the whole time I was thinking

Speedy: you know who would love this? knox

Speedy: knox would love this

Speedy: and then i

…

…

…

Kess: Okay, what happened?

Drums: Knox just came barreling into the rec room shouting “I’LL show YOU a drop-kick technique!” and Speedy made a break for it. Not sure he’s gonna survive this one.

Nitsani: Force be with you, Speedy.

Kess: Sounds like he’s gonna need it.

[veny-many]

Shenanigans about Bacara's wedding??

<Communication beeping>

Ki-Adi: Ah, Bacara.

Bacara: General, I mean Master Mundi, It's been a while.

Ki-Adi: It is indeed. I'm glad you have reached me after a long time!

Bacara: I hear some voices behind you, sir. Am I interrupting anything?

Ki-Adi: No, just Master Plo and Skaak are casually telling us about their children for nonstop. You have interrupted nothing, at ease.

Plo: ...And Sinker will have first born in this winter, and Ahsoka now gathered first Padawan! I am so proud of my children!

Shaak: ...And this is a picture of Gecko's 10th birthday we had yesterday, and this is a collection of letters that Cadets sent to me, and this is Colt's proposing...

Bacara: um... Is any other personal?

Ki-Adi: We have Mace too, but he is now covering his ears to get some sleep, despite the fact he is failing for hours.

Bacara: Well, okay. I believe that you, Jedis, are aware that some of us have engaged and married.

Ki-Adi: We are, and it's great to see you all making future of your own.

Bacara: I have. I engaged yesterday.

Ki-Adi:

Plo: (stops taking)

Shakk: (stops talking)

Mace: (wakes up)

Bacara: You okay, sir?

Ki-Adi: I'm sorry, it's just... We didn't expect that, but I'm happy to hear you finally did!

Bacara: Yes. And you will officiate my wedding.

Ki-Adi: WHAT

Bacara: We will check your preparation week before rehearsal.

Ki-Adi: ME??

bacara: You have two months. Bacara out.

Ki-Adi: WAIT??

Shaak: My force, will you invite us, Bacara?

Bacara: Of course, sir.

<Another Comm beeps>

Bacara: Neyo, General says that I need my best man and you will be.

Neyo:

Neyo: AYO WHAT

<week before rehearsal>

Jet: No, we need to collect those wording!

Rothax: And your talking speed is too slow!

Ki-Adi:

<5 days before rehearsal>

Jet: I think this is the most wedding day clothes in our closet.

Keller: Well, at least this is sparkling!

Ki-Adi: Lads, we are going to suit shop. Come on...

<2 days before rehearsal>

Nova Corps: And you will confirm our band performance for our Commander, just hear us out!

Ki-Adi: ....Why me??

<Rehearsal day>

Bacara: I am fine, I am stoic, I have practiced...

Ki-Adi: Bacara, you have tripped five times while walking...

And when finally the wedding was over, Master Ki-Adi Mundi lost his consciousness into long sleep on his chair because of his exhaustion. And Bacara and Clones all lived happy life with their love and family and friends.

<Honeymoon>

Bacara: I know all of this must be sudden and confusing, sir. But I'm thankful for all of your help.

Bacara: I can't say it in face to face because I'm not good at it, but at least I can write the thanks to you.

Bacara: I have left the letter on your next table. If you wake up from sleep, I hope that can give my honors and appreciations.

Spouse: Baby?

Bacara: Yes?

Spouse: I saw this letter in our bag. I think you forgot to mail this...?

Bacara: AH

Ki-Adi: ...What do you think of this? It's not like I'm the only one who can't find any letters inside this envelope?

A'Sharad: At least you aren't seeing any more hallucinations.

Ki-Adi: Brat

[vodika-vibes]

Oh ho ho ask and you shall receive.

Can I get a western au with Misfit and dealers choice on genre. Just at one point can I hug him. Thank you

Love oo

Better Place

Summary: After losing his career due to gross insubordination towards his Commanding Officer, Misfit finds himself moving back to the small ranching town he grew up in because he has no other options. He’s surprised when he realizes that this is his chance to heal.

Pairing: Pre Specialist Misfit (Clone OC) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2421

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse

Prompt: Western AU - though it doesn't really have a Western vibe, sorry.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kimiheartblade

A/N: So, I had an idea, and I think I'm happy with it. Jango was a good dad to some of his children, but was a bad dad to others. Misfit, Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Sister are all the "undesirable" children, and I have ideas as to where they are, but I couldn't work it into the story.

“Here’s the Ranch,” Boba says to Misfit as he unlocks the door and walks over to a window to pull it open, “No one’s lived here since dad died, but I’ve had people coming out and keeping it clean. Everything is still in working order.” 

Awkwardly, Misfit lingers in the doorway, he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips, though he doesn’t light it just yet. He watches Boba move around the kitchen, pulling open curtains and opening windows.

He hates this place.

He never wanted to return here.

Being in this house makes him feel like a child again. Unwanted. Unheard.

Ghosts of memories dance across his vision. He can see Jango—father— sitting at the dining room table, holding court with his favored sons: golden boy Boba. Ponds. Cody. Both sets of twins, Neyo and Bacara as well as Wolffe and Fox. The baby, Bly.

All the while, the less favored kids are left watching from the outside, in the hopes that they might earn an approving look from their father.

Not that they ever did.

He wonders if Jango regretted it, ignoring so many of his children, before the end. Misfit knows that he didn’t come and visit when he got word that Jango was dying.

He also knows that the other undesirable kids didn’t come either.

Knowing Jango, he didn’t even notice.

In any event, Boba inherited the ranch after Jango died. Though, it’s clear to Misfit that his older brother hadn’t actually stepped foot in the place since before Jango died.

It should make him feel better, the knowledge that Jango must be rolling in his grave since Boba’s just giving him the ranch. But it just makes him feel hollow and empty.

“Are you sure you want to just give me this place?” Misfit asks.

Boba turns to look at him, “We talked about this already, vod.” He leans against the counter, his arms folding over his chest, “The ranch is too far away from where I work.”

“We both know that Jango wouldn’t want me to have this place.”

“Yeah, well,” Boba shrugs, “Dad’s dead. What he does or doesn’t want is unimportant. He left the ranch to me, and I’m giving it to you.” He pauses, “The animals were sold after dad died, but I do remember that you never cared much for cattle or sheep.”

Misfit’s grin is slightly wry, Boba’s not wrong, that’s for sure.

“So, do you have any plans for the place?” Boba asks.

“Plant a garden, probably. Assuming the garden boxes don’t need to be repaired.” Misfit shrugs, “Turn the old barn into a workshop for my woodworking.”

“Oh, you’re still doing that?”

“I like working with my hands. It makes me less likely to turn to alcohol or drugs.”

Boba pauses and for a moment a pained look crosses his face, “I had heard…there are meetings in town for people fighting addictions. Support groups.”

“Yeah, I know.” Misfit pauses, “I already reached out for a sponsor.”

Relief washes across Boba’s face, “You have? That’s great.”

“Contrary to what you all seem to believe, I don’t actually like being high or drunk.”

“We’re just worried, Misfit.” Boba replies, “We thought you were going to get Court Martialed.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You-” Boba exhales slowly, “Never mind.” He pushes his hair through his curls, “When I heard you were coming, I went out and bought some food for you.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re still my brother.” Boba stops leaning against the counter and walks over to another window and ties the curtain open, “Honestly, I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the others…they’ve completely cut us off.” Boba says awkwardly. 

“Can you blame them?” Misfit asks as he finally steps into the house properly. He’ll have to redo the entire house to make it less anxiety inducing, but it’s always nice to have a project.

“No.” Boba admits, “Dad was great…for some of us. It took a long time for me to recognize that the way he treated you younger kids was…” He sighs and shakes his head, “None of you deserved that.”

“No, we didn’t.” Misfit agrees. “Anything else?”

Boba’s quiet for a moment, “I left my old motorcycle in the barn, you can have it. I can’t ride it anymore. The helmet and leather jacket are back there too. They’ll both fit you.”

“Thanks Boba,”

“You need a way to get around. It’s not super, you won’t be able to do a massive grocery trip, but it’s good enough.” Boba walks over to Misfit, and reaches out to grip his shoulder, “Listen, if you need anything, just give me a call. We’re family.”

Misfit stares at him for a moment, “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it, vod.” Boba drops his hand, “I wasn’t always the best brother, but I’ve grown up since then.”

Misfit sighs and nods, “Alright, Boba. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’m going to get out of here, let you get settled.” Boba heads to the door, and then turns around to walk backwards, “Answer your phone when I call, Misfit. I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Then Boba is gone, leaving Misfit alone with his thoughts and memories.

His hands twitch, and he finally lights his cigarette, in the hopes that the familiar sensation will help him feel a little less like a child again. 

It helps settle him, a little bit, and Misfit starts poking his way through the house. It is in pretty solid condition, all things considered, he decides as he goes up the stairs.

The paint and wallpaper in the rooms are dated, but both are easily corrected. Besides, wallpaper is outdated as a whole anyway. 

The bedroom he used to share with Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair will probably be reworked into an office, Misfit decides as he peeks into his old bedroom. It needs a new coat of paint, and he’ll probably take the door off, to make it more open.

Misfit clicks his tongue and heads back downstairs. He finds a notepad and a pen in the kitchen, and then heads back upstairs, making a list of everything he’s going to need to make the house less nightmare fuel for himself.

As he heads out to the barn later, to make sure the motorcycle still works, Misfit can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as terrible as he fears.

Three months later, Misfit thinks that he’s about as settled as he’s going to get. He has a dog, a mastiff he named Bull, and the entire house has been repainted so that it doesn’t look like the same house.

He managed to get his garden in, and rigged up the hoses to automatically water the plants on a set schedule (he had to get on a video call with Tech to hammer out the more finicky details when some of the coding didn’t work properly, but it works now and that’s the important thing.)

Misfit has even managed to repair the old fences so that Bull has free reign of the yard. 

All in all, this place feels more like home now than it ever did when he was a child. Even his relationship with Boba has settled into something safe and comfortable. 

They don’t talk about Jango. Ever.

But they get together once a week, have lunch or dinner together. It’s settled something, an old hurt, in Misfit’s heart. It’s nice to know that his older brothers don’t actually hate him.

It’s around that time when his neighbor across the street sells their home. The original owners, an older couple who used to babysit Misfit when he was a little kid, had been thrilled to see him again when he moved in.

But they are an older couple, so Misfit wasn’t surprised when they admitted that they were moving out. He also wasn’t surprised when they asked for him to come and help with a few repairs around their home before they sold it.

The new owner is a young woman around the same age as him. Though Misfit hasn’t met her yet.

The morning he meets her, he’s out in the front yard working on his garden, while also playing with Bull. In fairness, he doesn’t notice her first, but Bull releases a loud bark and tears over to the fence.

Misfit straightens from where he’s pulling weeds, and he whistles sharply. Bull immediately sits, though his entire body is wiggling with excitement. “Good boy, Bull.” Misfit praises as he pulls a cookie out of a pouch on his hip and passes it to the dog.

“He’s so well trained!” The woman standing at the fence says, her eyes wide as she looks from Bull to Misfit and then back again, “Did you train him yourself?”

“Had some help from my cousin.” Misfit says, “He’s a dog trainer here in town.”

“The one who visits every week?” She asks, “I saw him the other day.”

“No. That’s one of my brothers. Hound doesn’t visit often.” He pulls off his thick work gloves and sticks them in his back pocket, “Anyway, can I help you?”

“Oh! I was just coming over to introduce myself!” She holds out her hand, and introduces herself with a broad smile, “I just moved in, and I’ve been wanting to come and introduce myself, but you’re a hard man to catch.”

“I’m a pretty busy guy.” He pauses, “Misfit.”

“I…sorry?”

“My name. It’s Misfit.”

Her lips part, “Oh. That’s…not really a name.” She finally says.

“You get used to it. There’s a bunch of us Fetts around here with names like that.” Misfit replies with a shrug, “You get used to it.”

She frowns slightly, and then her smile returns, “So, you take care of all this land on your own?”

Misfit pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and lights it, “Pretty much.” 

“The previous owners told me that you hand carved the railing in my home,” She bubbles excitedly, “Is that true?”

“Yeah. I make furniture and stuff for a living. Never been much for farm work.” Misfit pauses, he looks at her eager face, and then sighs, “Would you like to come in?”

“Only if it’s not too much hassle,” She replies sheepishly, “I’ve never met someone who can make furniture with their own hands.”

Misfit sighs and pushes the gate open, moving to the side to let her into his yard. “How do you think furniture gets made?”

“Uh…in factories?”

“Sure, if you want cheap things that’ll break in a year, I guess.” Misfit motions to Bull, “My dog, Bull. Let him sniff your hand before you try to pet him.”

He waits until Bull decides that she’s boring, before he leads her around to the barn. “This used to be an actual farm, then?” She asks as she looks up at the, recently painted, barn. “I thought these came in red?”

“I painted it because I don’t like red.” Misfit says as he slides one of the barn doors open, “And yeah, it was a farm for years. It’s only in the last couple of years that there haven’t been animals living here.” He moves to the side as three cats sprint out of the barn.

“You have cats too!” She asks, excited.

“They’re strays. They keep the mouse population down, so I’m happy to feed them.” He pushes the other barn door open, and gestures vaguely towards his workshop. 

“Oh, it smells nice!”

“That would be because that shelf is made of cedar.” Misfit replies as he steps around her and goes over to his workbench, “It’s for my brother. His bookshelf collapsed because of too many books.”

“You’re a good brother,” She sounds marveled. 

“Nah. I’m making him pay me for it.” Misfit says, “He’s a professor at an Ivy league university, he can afford it.”

“So if this used to be a ranch and now isn’t, what are you doing with all of the land?” She asks, curious.

“Planting trees.”

She laughs, and then pauses, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really.”

She blinks at him, twice, and then she grins. “Wow, you’re like, the whole package, aren’t you?”

“...what?”

“It’s just,” She flushes, “You’re handy,” She gestures to the shelf, “You’re good with animals, you care about the environment and you’re close to your family-”

Misfit stares at her, blankly, “I have a dishonorable discharge from the military, and am in recovery for both alcohol and drug addictions.” He says flatly, “The only reason I’m allowed to live here is because no one else wanted to, and they don’t care what I do with it.”

She shakes her head, “Addiction is an illness! Not a moral failing! And your brothers clearly love you enough to give you all of this.”

“...you’re very kind, but I promise I don’t deserve it.”

She scowls at him, and takes several large steps towards him, and wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

Misfit’s hands raise to hover over her shoulders, unsure what he’s supposed to do in this situation. “Um…”

She doesn’t pull away, “I don’t know who told you that you’re not deserving of basic kindness, but they’re wrong.” She tightens her arms around him, “You’re a good guy. Bad guys don’t take care of animals or worry about the environment or take time out of their busy day to humor someone’s curiosity.”

Misfit sighs and lightly places his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her away gently, “Thank you. I’m not the best at taking compliments, but…thank you.”

She smiles at him, her face slowly turning red in embarrassment, “You’re welcome! But you must think I’m so weird-” She says with a sheepish laugh.

“Weird isn’t so bad.” Misfit replies as he turns his attention away from her. He hesitates for a moment, considering something, before he looks at her again, “So…I’m holding a cookout this weekend, with my brother and my cousins and their partners. There’s going to be a bunch of people here, if you want to come over and meet some people.”

“Ah! Really?”

Misfit shrugs, “It’s not easy being the new person in town.”

She beams at him, warm and wide, “And you think you’re a bad guy.”

And Misfit looks away from her, his ears burning.  He’s not sure if he’s a good guy, exactly, but…maybe he could try to be. If only to keep her smiling at him like that.

[trudemaethien]

Shoulda Put a Brii’rud On It

Part 5 | Merverse Part 6 | Part 7

rated e, bacara/rex, violence, misunderstandings, size diff, great white shark rex is roughly 4x bigger than a human, depression/PTSD, Rex is mad, Bacara is sad, Neyo Is Complicated, plot holes

Neyo and Bacara are out on the waves in their boat. It’s a nice day, and Neyo is skinny dipping.

Bacara is the one to spot the fin. “Neyo!” he screams and Neyo flails, looking around alarmed. He abruptly goes under and nononono!

Bacara snatches their harpoon and dives in. He is the actual idiot who is going to try to stab a huge ass shark and see if he can at least catch his brother’s body in time to take him home one last time.

If they both go down, well. At least neither of them will be around to miss the other.

He cuts through the water, ignoring the drag of his waterlogged clothing, and sees them going down. Neyo’s fighting. Something about it looks strange from this angle but at least he’s not dead yet. Bacara nicks his arm on the sharp edge of the spear and kicks up a fuss. Hopefully the big beast will let go of Neyo and Neyo won’t be too injured to make the surface.

The shark turns, enormous and imposing and …impossible. It’s flat black eyes burn with hatred in its human face. Blonde hair and gills ripple. Menacing tail swishes side to side behind sharply jutting dorsal fin. It has teeth, so many teeth.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Neyo’s distinctive tattoos; he’s alive and kicking, rising to the surface, to safety. Good.

Bacara darts up and away, even knowing there’s no chance for him to outpace the shark. A man. A shark-man. A …mermaid? Merman.

The huge body slams into him, jarring his whole frame. It feels like getting hit with an IED, and Bacara wishes he didn’t know that. They glance off each other; Bacara is rather more affected than his adversary. If he could breathe right now, he would have called it getting the breath knocked out of him. His lungs burn. His flannel shirt is shredded, flapping behind him. He fights the urge to let himself inhale and desperately hangs onto his weapon.

The shark turns several meters below him and farther away, and Bacara orients himself towards the surface again. He can see in his peripherals that Neyo is nearly to the ship. Bacara decides he will go straight up and trust Neyo to come to him. He keeps his eyes on the shark even as he kicks hard to ascend.

The shark’s uncannily human face swiftly triangulates between him, Neyo, and their boat, calculating its next move. It charges at Bacara, deadly swift. He times it, rolls away at the last moment, stomp-kicks it in the side as hard as he can, stabbing with the spear held close to his leg. Hopefully this maneuver will injure it, or at least allow Bacara to steal some of its upward momentum.

He’s lucky his training included how to swim in boots. His foot hurts but so does the predator. A small spume of shark’s blood colors the water, trailing from its gills. His plan had worked, somewhat.

It writhes away, angry and in pain, not debilitated for more than a few moments. Bacara strains to make it up to the air he desperately needs. Spots dance in front of his eyes, but he’s sure he sees the boat nearing. The shark turns in a wide radius, less agile because it’s so big. Almost there. One last kick will see him to the surface, lungs burning.

It catches the shaft of the harpoon and his foot along with it, rips through the leather like it’s wet newsprint and tears the weapon out of his grip. He kicks and struggles but it wraps its enormous hands around his ankle, the one he had kicked it with, and yanks.

A shot cracks, muffled. The projectile cutting through water is a sight Bacara is glad to see, the spirals and ripples it cleaves as it travels, slower than it would through air.

The shark heard it too and its intelligent expression shows it’s wise to the danger of such a sound. It releases him and twists to avoid being hit. Immediately Bacara reaches for the surface and there’s Neyo, hauling him up with one arm and keeping the rifle aimed with the other.

Neyo’s still stark naked, of course. Of course. The silly detail is the only thing Bacara lets himself register as he chokes and heaves for the air he requires. His head spins. His leg hurts.

They are both on the boat, though, and neither of them is dying. They breathe a sigh of relief through their adrenaline surge, laughing with the grim joy of having survived.

The moment is broken when the boat shudders from stem to stern with the impact of a large body slamming into it from below.

“I didn’t get him?” Neyo asks, suddenly all business again.

“I don’t think you will. It’s too smart,” Bacara answers seriously.

As if to prove his words true, a pair of huge clawed hands grasp the rail and heave the creature over the bulwark, even as it breaches with the strength of its tail.

Their boat isn’t that big, only 12 meters. The monster is probably half its length. It flops and slithers around the small cabin toward them, intent on violence.

“Nervohd! Keeramood,” it snarls, clearly choosing Bacara as its first target.

“Naysh!” Neyo shouts. The shark and Bacara both startle and stare at the tattooed man in abrupt confusion.

read on AO3 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/35453905/chapters/88373716