#clone wars fanfiction

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

AO3

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[clonesuperiority]

I really only wanted to show my Clone OC's Tattoos, buuut who was ever hurt by shirtless Wolffe, Rex, Cody and Jesse? 👀

I'd kind of love to draw some fanarts of canon Clones ... Which ones would you like to see?

[skybreakprimeonao3]

He had a name before he was assigned to a battalion, even though everyone called him Shiny until he proved himself in battle. Though once he did earn the right, he decided to stick with the name given to him by the other cadets.

“I’m called Two Tone,” he told his Captain, who raised an eyebrow. To the silent question, he shrugged. “No one told me why.”

And that was the truth. He wasn’t inclined to whistle or sing. He got the name long before he reached the age of his voice cracking in forced puberty. Just one day in class, one of his batchmates laughed and called him Two Tone, and it stuck.

Somehow, he never figured out why he was called that until after a joint battle with General Unduli and General Kenobi, fighting to take back a planet from the Separatists, at the request of the local government. Everyone was giving him weird looks ever since he had painted his armor, and he just told himself it was probably because of the design. He always had problems getting it correct on his armor, and he didn’t want to ask someone for help, so he was stuck with his own quality.

Cleaning up after the fight was normal, trudging around the battlefield to find any fallen comrades and equipment, seeing the medic if hurt, packing things away again. Two Tone thought it was weird when he didn’t bump into anyone from the 212th, but figured it was because they might have been on the other side of the battlefield. He did his best sticking to his brothers as things began to get loaded into the LAAT/is, tired and quiet as he road the drop ship up to the Venator.

He assisted with unloading things, feeling the ship shudder faintly as it transitioned into hyperspace, though his movements came to a halt as he saw General Kenobi walking by the area. Frowning, he turned to the Clone beside him.

“Why isn’t General Kenobi with the 212th?”

The Clone frowned at him. “This is the 212th…”

Two Tone prided himself on being levelheaded, so when he started to panic so hard that General Kenobi came to an abrupt stop and looked at him, he was proud that he didn’t run away or collapse or simply imploded.

“Are you all right, dear one?” General Kenobi asked and a part of Two Tone’s mind was amused to learn that the rumors were correct about the endearing terms the man used.

“I apologize, sir,” Two Tone managed to squeak out. “But… I was assigned to General Unduli… I’m on the wrong ship.”

General Kenobi’s head tilted to the side curiously, glancing over Two Tone’s armor.

“Have you been tested for colorblindness?” the General asked curiously.

***

“Deuteranopia colorblindness,” Obi-Wan said, giving Luminara a faint smile. “The poor man was so embarrassed. Evac tested him and decided to do a ship wide test. Apparently colorblindness isn’t too uncommon among the Clones.”

The holo of the Jedi Master shook her head, a fond sigh escaping her. “When he painted his armor orange and green, I thought he was living up to his name. I am glad to hear that we hadn’t lost him in battle.”

“No, just temporarily misplaced,” Obi-Wan said with a chuckle.

“Joint custody then, until you can return him to me?”

“Well keep him safe, I promise you.”

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

Headcanon that Cody and Obi-Wan flirt a lot and don't make any effort to conceal their relationship, but don't confirm it, so the whole GAR thinks they don't know that they are in love with each other. So one night Rex pulls some strings to get all the troopers out of the mess hall on the Negotiator and the 501st and 212th set up a candle lit dinner to try and get them to see how in love they are with each other. Everyone cries when they kiss and keep congratulating them on finally getting together over the next week. Later Cody comes to Rex all fucking embarassed to tell him that he and Obi-Wan have been together for over a year and they thought everyone already knew.

[kometqh]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028

Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.

"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"

"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps. 

"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery. 

The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones. 

He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words. 

Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him. 

In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather. 

Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.

She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.

A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face. 

Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots. 

She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.

Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix. 

Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up. 

"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire. 

His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would. 

You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard. 

You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather. 

Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead. 

Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.

"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise. 

"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again. 

He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm. 

"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently. 

Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay? 

Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was. 

"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this. 

Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.

"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.

Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire. 

Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp. 

As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine. 

But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest. 

Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen. 

Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue. 

But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles. 

A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-

None of his brothers did. 

Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight. 

A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder. 

"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby. 

"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position. 

He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.

"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused. 

If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you. 

Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you. 

Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.

A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.

"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.

"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet. 

A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.

Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket. 

"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips. 

"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.

Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.

"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little. 

"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.

The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's. 

Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath. 

"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup. 

"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"

Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.

The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?

Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition. 

"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips,  just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.

Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?

"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.

The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.

Rex.

You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.

The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.

"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck. 

"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. 

Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.

"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin. 

Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission. 

And receive it, they did.

With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace. 

Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.

You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?

Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.

No, this definitely wasn't a dream.

And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.

[freesia-writes]

Am I gonna start something for every day of the week? Not that I'm aware of, LOL. But let's give this a try? Maybe I'll alternate fanfic and fanart... Or make a separate day. Who knows.

Fanfic Authors: What are you CURRENTLY working on (choose ONE, haha) and what's your favorite part about it?

Don't be shy, share a link! 🤓

[am3mb3r123]

i love you Clone Wars fics that show the clones as complex individual beings

i love you Clone Wars fics that show the intricate complexities of clone relationships

i love you Clone Wars fics that showcase unusual family dynamics

i love you Clone Wars fics that focus on batchmates and squadmates and twins and lovers and husbands

i love you Clone Wars fics <3

[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.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ!!! If it's okay, for the first kiss prompt could I humbly ask for

"are you sure about this" with our voice king, Sev?

Or!!

their hearts stopping when they hear someone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act ?) with Tup?

Whichever one inspires you more! Please and thank you 💙

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask @secondaryrealm! It was so fun to get back into the swing of writing Sev. You’ll notice that I’m incapable of writing him without mentioning his voice. Voice kink gonna voice kink. Prompt is in purple!

Pairing: Sev x Reader (GN)

Rating: T, but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 519

Warnings and tags: fluff, mentions of vomit

Summary: You do Sev a solid.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Are you sure about this?” Sev’s deep voice rumbled in your ear, sending a tingle of awareness across your neck.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Kriff, no.”

He smirked and slid his helmet into place. “Too bad.”

Without warning, he spun you around and tackled you, sending you both flying out of the LAAT/i and into the abyss as his arms clamped around your body.

You shrieked, too terrified to be embarrassed by the sound. “Oh, my gods, I’m gonna die!”

You clung to Sev, burying your face against his chestplate as you squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your jaw to try to keep from screaming again.

Sev’s low, modulated chuckle sounded through his helmet speaker. “Relax, I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Carrying another person?!” you demanded raggedly, still not opening your eyes.

“Uh… no,” he admitted. “That’s why we needed volunteers for the training exercise.”

Your eyes snapped open, not that it mattered, since all you could see was Sev’s armor and helmet.

“Sev,” you asked nervously, “how many times have you done this while carrying somebody?”

“This is the first. I think it’s going well.”

“I can’t believe I let Scorch talk me into this,” you groaned.

“Everyone who’s ever met Scorch has said that at some point.”

You felt your weight shift as he adjusted the flight path of his jetpack, and your stomach flip-flopped. Gods, I think I’m gonna hurl. Please, please don’t let me hurl on him, you prayed silently to the Force.

“Don’t drop me,” you begged.

“Even if I did, the tether would keep you close.” Sev seemed to sense you didn’t find that as reassuring as he thought you would, and he tightened his fingers on you briefly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

True to his word, he soon landed the pair of you safely on the ground. As he released you, your knees buckled, and he caught you just before you collapsed. He yanked off his helmet with his free hand, and you heard it thud to the ground as he tilted your head so he could see your face.

“You okay?” he asked, scanning you quickly for injuries.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said shakily. “I just need a minute.”

You willed your legs to work as you tried not to stare at his deep, gorgeous eyes or his stupid, perfect mouth that you’d been trying to ignore for months. Why does he smell so kriffing good? He has no right to smell like that. 

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, think I can stand now.”

Sev didn’t loosen the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb as he held your head. You gazed into each other’s eyes, as though suspended in time, and then he closed the distance between you as his lips met yours. His lips felt exactly as soft and stupidly perfect as you’d imagined, and you sucked in a tiny, broken gasp when the kiss ended far too soon.

“Wow,” you sighed. “I’m so glad I didn’t hurl on you.”

---

Looking for spicy Sev x reader fics? Allow me to plug my incredibly spicy fic, “Turn It Up When You’re Gone” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3. The fourth and final chapter will be dropping next month!

[dangraccoon]

Hi! I can't remember if I actually submitted an ask for your Roll for Request event. I know I saved your post and did the rolls, but I don't remember passing them on to you.

If I already submitted this, then feel free to ignore me!

Here's what I rolled:

2 - Hunter (I swear I didn't cheat)

8 - “Please, don’t argue. You have to leave right now; you aren’t safe here.”

5 - Fluff

As far as anything else, I leave it up to your imagination (because I have none, haha.)

Thanks!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Double Agent

Hunter x gn!reader (they/them pronouns, no other description)

Author's Note: Thanks for letting me reroll the prompt a little! I hope you like how it turned out!

Warnings: jealousy, tiny bit of protective!Hunter, Omega is a Little Shit, but like in an endearing way, love confessions, first kiss

Mando'a Guide: mesh'la - beautiful

It was another beautiful day in Pabu. The sun was bright and warm, moonyos were chittering as they ran across the paths, and Hunter stood against a wall, scowling at the scene playing out before him.

You were standing, talking to a neighbor excitedly about something he couldn’t make out, but he could see that you were smiling. 

You had adjusted to life in Pabu easier than the rest of them, trusting the people here immediately and wholeheartedly. Sure, the rest of the squad was opening up, too, but there was something nagging at the back of Hunter’s brain every time he watched you make a new acquaintance.

Your laugh caught his attention and he watched as your hand touched the man’s arm, steadying yourself. 

He heard Omega approach from his side. “Hunter?” she questioned, following his line of sight to you.

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

He briefly glanced down at her. “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Omega nodded, but her curious gaze stuck on him. “You’re doing it again.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed a little more. “What?”

She shrugged. “Echo told me I had to keep an extra eye on you because you do this thing where you stare at them looking all grumpy. He said that you were gonna scare them off.”

Hunter’s gaze finally fully shifted to her. “I don’t do that,” he protested, earning an incredulous look from his sister. 

“Why are you always so angry with them anyway? They’re really nice and funny-”

“I’m not angry,” Hunter interjected with a sigh. “I just think they trust too easily.”

“Oh,” Omega hummed, drawing out the vowel. “So you’re protecting them?”

A vague suspicion tagged at the back of his brain as her tone shifted, but he ignored it as he kept his eyes on you. “Sure.”

“You don’t watch Tech or Wrecker like this,” she pointed out.

Hunter sighed. “They don’t get into trouble as much.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Omega,” Hunter warned.

“Don’t you trust them?”

“I do, but-”

“I think you like them.”

Hunter all but growled in frustration. “Look, sometimes you have to keep an eye on people you lo– people you care about to make sure that they’re okay.”

“So,” Omega murmured. “You do care about them.”

“Yes.”

“A lot?”

“Ye– they’re part of this squad.”

He wasn’t sure when exactly she had left his side, his attention focused on you as you accompanied the neighbor back through the streets of Pabu.

It had taken quite a bit of practice, but Omega was getting better at evading her brother’s heightened senses. She ducked underneath a wall with flowers growing out of it, whispering your name as you emerged from your new friend’s house.

“Omega?” you chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Get down here!” she hissed, her tone setting off an alarm in your mind, but her grin soothing it.

You knelt down next to her. “What’s going on?”

“Remember that special mission?” she smiled, excitement permeating the air around her.

You eyed her suspiciously. “Omega-”

“I know you said to drop it,” she explained. “But I think I’ve made some progress!” 

You sighed, running a hand down your face as she continued.

“He only glares at you like that because he’s trying to protect you,” she informed you. “He thinks you get into trouble a lot, so he has to make sure you’re okay. But he said he cares about you a lot.”

You blinked at her, the information still processing.

“Why- why didn’t he come and talk to me himself?” you mumbled.

“Echo said it’s because he’s scared of you,” Omega stated, matter-of-factly. 

You scoffed. “Scared of me? Look at me, ‘Meg; I’m not exactly intimidating.”

“Perhaps not physically,” Tech suddenly appeared at the other side of the wall they were sitting against, startling you. “But given that Hunter has seldom cared for anyone outside of his siblings, it stands to reason that his affection for you feels unfamiliar and therefore, uncomfortable.”

Tech continued on to inform Omega about how she can improve at staying out of Hunter’s awareness as you sat, trying to absorb the information. One phrase hummed through your body on repeat. He cares about you.

As it neared sunset, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the dock, staring out at the horizon.

“Mind if I join you?” Hunter asked. You nodded with a small smile.

He sat next to you, mirroring the way your feet hung over the side. You sat there together in an easy silence, though you could tell he had something to say.

“Did Omega tell you I was here?” you prompted. Maybe you could draw something out of the terse sergeant.

“Uh, yeah,” he hummed. 

“So you came looking for me?”

He nodded, awkwardly sparing a glance towards you.

You smirked. “What can I do for you, Hunter?” 

He felt his body humming with electricity as you said his name. You have no idea the effect you have on me, he thought.

“No? Maybe you could tell me,” you suggested, watching his entire face bloom into a deep red as he realized he’d voiced what he meant to stay in his head. You set a hand gently on his knee, noting the tiny gasp he made. “I have it on pretty good authority that you care about me.”

Hunter swallowed. Omega was so grounded. 

“Perhaps our little double agent didn’t relay information back to you,” you mused. 

“No?” he nearly whispered.

“She told me how you feel, but I don’t think she told you how I feel,” you smiled, feeling your own cheeks warm under his intense gaze. 

Hunter’s mouth felt dry and his heart pounded against his ribcage. “And how do you feel?”

This was it. You had to say it now.

“To put it simply, I’m in love with you, Hunter.”

Time stopped around you, the ocean ceased its ebb and flow, the sun paused where it hung low in the sky. There was no sound but both of your heartbeats as you gazed at one another. Hunter’s mouth was parted in a tiny ‘o’ like he couldn’t believe what you’d just confessed.

Reality snapped back into place around you as he began to smile. He leaned towards you, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “I’m in love with you, too, mesh’la.”

Neither of you knew who’d closed the gap first, your lips slotting together in a deep and overdue embrace. He broke the contact first, resting his forehead against yours as he attempted to catch his breath. In this moment, it was just you and Hunter.

Neither of you heard the hoots and hollering of the rest of the squad.

Thanks for reading! - River

Roll for Request Masterlist Main Masterlist Taglist Form

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[ghostofskywalker]

Bacta, Burns, and Bedside Manner

Kix/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 7 of 31

Words: 1,656

Summary: Kix has a lot of talents, but his brothers wouldn't usually cite bedside manner as one of them. That is, until you showed up in the medbay with injuries that needed to be looked at.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“Kriff!” you swore loudly and unapologetically as the wire you were working on sparked, startling you and burning two of your fingertips. You were currently wedged in the engine of a gunship, attempting to repair the combustion, but so far all you were doing was causing yourself more pain. There was already a nasty looking scratch on your arm from where you had accidentally caught it on a jagged edge, and your head was throbbing from where you had hit it against the top of the space you were occupying. To say the least, you were not having a good day.

“Are you alright in there?” a trooper’s voice sounded from outside the gunship.

“Yeah!” you called before pulling your body out from the engine and looking at who had stepped into your workshop (Fives). “Just crossed my wires and caught a little spark, that’s all.”

The “little spark” in question actually hurt a lot more than you were letting on, as red-hot pain seized through your fingertips and made you feel like you were holding a hot pan, but he didn’t need to know that.

But even though you were attempting to keep your injuries to yourself, Fives still wasn’t convinced. He just stared at the scrape on your arm (that had started to bleed more profusely at this point) for a few moments before looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? You’re bleeding there.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just throw a patch over it.”

Fives raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s something a single bacta patch can fix,” he said. “Let me take you to the medbay.”

You were all set to say no, that you knew basic first aid and could handle everything yourself, but the pain in your fingertips was only continuing to increase, and you had to fight to keep the tears from welling in your eyes. So instead, you just nodded and stepped forward, allowing Fives to usher you out of your workshop.

When you finally stepped through the doors of the medbay, the brightness and bustle of the room immediately made your head throb even more. You just closed your eyes and stood there with Fives, trying to ignore the pain on your arm, in your fingertips, and on your head. “What’s happened here?” you heard a medic ask.

You opened your eyes to see Kix looking at you with a concerned expression, but you couldn’t find the words to speak just yet. Thankfully, Fives was there to answer his brother’s question. “I walked in to hear her swear and she said that a few crossed wires sparked. That’s not even counting the bleeding scrape on her arm, which she said she would just throw a patch on and be done with.”

After Fives spoke, Kix turned to you. “Is that all true?”

You nodded. “And my head,” you managed to croak out. Kix just nodded and motioned for you to follow him to one of the beds, quietly telling Fives that he could get back to whatever he was doing.

“Alright,” he said once you had sat down on the bed. “Tell me everything that’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath before responding. “The wires burned my fingertips and I hit my head on the gunship before. Oh, and there’s the scrape on my arm, but you can see that pretty clearly.”

“How long ago was the burn sustained?” He asked, and the look on your face told him all he needed to know. He stepped away, returning a few moments with a wet cloth. “Which hand was it?”

You help up the thumb and pointer finger on your dominant hand, and he wrapped the cloth around them, the relief instant as the cool material made contact with your burning skin. “We’ll keep this on for at least a half hour. If it gets too warm, I’ll give you a fresh one.”

You just nodded in response, still overcome by the feeling of the pain finally abated. After that, he cleaned up your scratch and wrapped it in gauze. The feelings of his fingertips gently holding your arm made you feel like you were burning up for a slightly different reason. There was always something about the 501st’s head medic that intrigued you, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think he was attractive. All the clones were nice looking in their own ways, but Kix had something special about him.

“You said something about your head too,” he murmured as he secured the gauze on your arm.

“I hit it against the top of the gunship by accident,” you responded.

You pointed out the area to him and he carefully checked you over. “I don’t think you have a concussion, but I’m going to get you some ice for where it hurts,” he said. “Then you can lie down for a little while, okay?”

“No, I thought-”

But the look on his face had you trailing off before you had finished your sentence. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Especially not with those burns on your fingers.”

“But-”

“No buts, you need to rest in order to heal properly, and it won’t do you any good to go back to work before you feel better,” he said gently.

You didn’t want to be a burden to him for longer than you had to be, but you did understand where he was coming from. “Alright,” you said. “I suppose I can stay around a little longer.”

After Kix got you a fresh compress for your burns and an ice pack for your head, you ended up falling asleep, hoping that when you woke up you wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

***

When you opened your eyes, you could hear voices, but the curtain around your bed obscured whoever it was from your view.

“How is she?” That sounded like Fives.

“Asleep now, but she’ll be fine,” Kix responded.

Another voice joined the conversation, and you guessed that it was Echo. “That’s good. Rex said that she should stay here as long as necessary and not to worry about the ship she was fixing, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t scare her off,” yet another voice said, this one sounding like Jesse.

“What do you mean?” Kix asked. You couldn’t see his face, but you could guess that he looked a little bit offended.

You had to hold in a little giggle at Jesse’s words, because you knew what he meant. Bedside manner was not one of Kix’s strengths as a medic. He could patch up any blaster wound in seconds, knew exactly what to look for when there was the possibility of a concussion, and could usually tell just by looking at someone whether or not they had fractured or broken a rib, but he wasn’t exactly all sunshine and smiles while doing so. Especially when it came to his batch mates or fellow troopers of the 501st. The better Kix knew someone, the ruder he was when patching them up, especially if they had sustained the injury doing something dumb. You had escorted a few troopers to the medbay yourself (one time after a game of hide and seek got out of hand), and watched as Kix teased his brothers while he helped them with their injuries.

But he was never like that with you. The harshest he had been was when you tried to get up and go back to work, and you wondered why that was as Fives responded to Kix’s earlier question.

“Come on Kix,” he said. “We get injuries and you call us di’kuts all the time, but suddenly now your bedside manner gets a makeover?”

“It’s because he likes her,” Jesse cut in. Well, that certainly piqued your interest.

“Jesse!”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?”

But before Kix could confirm or deny the accusations, you sneezed (at the worst kriffing time for it). Conversation stopped and the curtain was pulled away, revealing Kix, Fives, Echo, and Jesse, all staring at you. Jesse seemed to realize the situation first, wishing Kix good luck and bolting out of the medbay, and Fives and Echo were not far behind him.

Kix looked like he wanted to chase after his brothers and strange them as he turned to you. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, not sure where to go from here. Do you apologize that you overheard? Do you ask him if what Jesse said was true?

But Kix spoke again before you could say anything else. “Listen, I’m sorry about them,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I know what brothers are like, I’m sorry for eavesdropping.”

A silence fell over the two of you, but eventually Kix spoke again. “I just wish they hadn’t been so obvious about it, I was going to get there eventually.”

“What?” Yeah, that definitely wasn’t your finest choice of words.

“Jesse was right, I do like you,” Kix said. “And I was going to ask you out to dinner the next time we were on Coruscant, but I suppose the tooka is out of the bag now.”

“And is that offer of dinner on Coruscant still on the table?” you asked tentatively. You really hoped that he said yes, because if this was really happening, you didn’t want to go back the way it was.

Kix smiled. “Maybe. Why, do you want to take it?”

“Maybe.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh as Kix took your hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Yeah, it’s still on the table.”

But before he could pull away, you took advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery and sat up, placing a kiss of your own on his lips. “Good,” you said as you broke apart, love struck looks on both your faces. “Because I’d really like to take you up on the offer.”  

- the end - 

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[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Suckers

Fives & Echo

Summary: Hilarity ensues when Fives spots a lollipop in the shape of a clone.

Pairing: None

Characters: Fives, Echo, Rex, Fox

Tags & Warnings: humor, crude humor, sexual humor, sexual innuendos, art comic at the end

Word Count: 337

Author's Note: I blame cursed clone wars merchandise on eBay, late-night Discord chats, and @kimiheartblade for this abomination 😂 It's pretty much just dialogue. I don't even know if I want to call this a fic, considering how thrown together it is. But sometimes you just have to write funny stuff. As always, please enjoy 💚

"Hey, Echo, look at this!" Fives yells. He grabs Echo's arm and pulls him towards the candy storefront.

"What?" Echo huffs, then yanks his arm back.

"It's us!" Fives exclaims.

Echo raises an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"They made us into suckers!" Fives smiles. He points to the clone-shaped lollipops nestled in a stand next to the candy store window.

"And you're excited about that, why?" Echo asks.

"We're famous!" Fives grins.

"Right," Echo rolls his eyes, "because minors and middle-aged single women sucking on us is peak fame."

"Aw, come on, Echo," Fives says. "It's a novelty!"

Echo crosses his arms. "It's disgusting."

"I'm gonna buy one," Fives says, then walks towards the door.

"Wait!" Echo yells, trying to stop him, but he can't.

Fives buys the lollipop and returns to Echo, who is waiting for him outside the shop.

Echo sighs. "Happy now?"

Fives smiles and then shoves the lollipop in Echo's face. "Here, have a lick."

Echo cringes away. "Ew, no way!"

"It's just a lollipop," Fives says.

"I don't care," Echo huffs.

"But don't you want to know what flavor they made you?" Fives asks.

"No!" Echo says. "I don't have a flavor."

"But it looks like you," Fives says.

"I'm not sucking on something that looks like me," Echo says.

"Then it looks like me," Fives says.

"I'm not sucking on something that looks like you either!" Echo exclaims.

"It's kriffing sugar!" Fives retorts.

Rex taps his foot against the pavement, his arms crossed, while staring at his two arc troopers who are currently sitting handcuffed on the edge of the curb.

"Does someone want to tell me why the Coruscant Guard got called out here?" Rex asks.

Fives and Echo look away from each other in embarrassment.

Fox clears his throat. "Several passersby complained of two men in an altercation with one of them repeatedly yelling, 'suck on it'."

Rex takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"We can expl–"

"Don't," Rex interjects with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to know."

Comic by @chiliger

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AO3

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[clonesuperiority]

I'm using my recent TBB osession to draw my clone ocs for the first time in forever again (Since I haven't named them yet: These are Kick, Boxer and Isle - finally cleaned up)

I have been reading some clone x reader fanfics (share some with me pls I love them gsjvkfgsf) and lets say ... I have been noticing a pattern in regard of the ... bathrooms in Clone Bar 79 ...

[lothcat-lothcat-lothwolf-run]

stop giving my men slutty slutty waists I keep getting distracted in battle

stop marking about how their so pretty and perfect and beautiful I’m starting to fall in love

Stop making the boys hot I can’t marry them all and then we’ll be sad

stop making them so nice and kind and good people I can’t keep going like this

in other (unrelated) news I am in love with the entire GAR

[stevestevesstuff]

We are meant to be expendable | Captain Rex x jedi!reader

Summary: you get hurt during a mission while saving Rex and some of his brothers.

Warnings: angst, bomb going of, mentions of injury, shitty ending lol

"What the kriff were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed out there!"

Rex was mad, really mad. You did not have to concentrate on the lingering feeling of the force to know that.

"Please Rex, could you lower your voice a little? My head is killing me..."

"It would not hurt that much if you didnt throw yourself infront of a BOMB!"

-

During the mission to free a planet from seperatist forces, you and a few men from the 501st got cornered and caught in the middle of a crossfire. While the troopers tried to shoot as many, as they called them, clankers as possible and you deflecting blaster shots as fast and precise as you could, you noticed one of the droids holding something. It was definitely NOT a blaster, but from the distance, you were not sure what it could be.

As you looked again, that particular droid was gone.

It must have been your mind playing games on you. After all, this situation you were in was quite stressful and chaotic.

The fight continued for a few more minutes, blaster shots were exchanged and your concentration slowly but surely left you alone. Suddenly, you felt something hit the ground right next to Rex, Fives and Echo.

From that moment on, everything happened in slow motion.

You looked over to them, then at the round thing laying on the ground next to them. It was a bomb.

While still deflecting some shots, you ran as fast as you could to reach them in time. You tried to warn them about the danger, but your shouts were swallowed by the thundering sounds of the ongoing battle. As your last solution, you force pushed them out of the way and tried to get infront of them to keep them safe from the coming explosion.

This action earned you confusing looks from the ARC troopers and your captain, but there was no time for you to notice. The moment you stepped infront of your men, the bomb went of. In a matter of mere seconds, the explosion hit everything and everyone around you. The troopers were send flying through the air and you were flying with them.

The moment you could sense the ground underneath you, your head hit something hard. Then, everything went black

-

The only thing you could hear was a loud and already annoying ringing sound right in your ears.

You were still feeling too weak to open your eyes but still tried to find some orientation without them. Obviously you couldnt.

The ringing in your ears plus the thundering beating of your heart hindered you from hearing anything around you. After a few seconds, you gave up and tried to concentrate on your body and on how it was feeling.

Your hand.

Your right hand to be more specific.

It felt heavier then your left one.

You concentrated a bit more on that heavy feeling on your hand until you could make out the fact, why it was heavier.

Someone was holding it.

Pretty tightly that is.

With the last bit of strength left in your body, you forced yourself to open your eyes.

You were met with a bright and blinding light that made you close your eyes immediately again.

You waited a little until you tried again, this time, way slower.

You let out an unvoluntarily groan as your eyes started hurting from the light. But, you were able to keep them open.

The moment that groan left your mouth, you could feel the grip on your hand tighten and someone stirring right next to you.

As you tried to make your eyes familiar with the light and your surroundings, you could hear a faint voice.

"General? General are you alright? Medic! We need a medic! Shes awake!"

Rex. Rex was with you. You would recognise that voice anytime, even with an irritating ringing in your ears.

You moved your head in his direction and tried to sit up in your bed, but a crushing pain in your head made you lie down again.

"Woah, slow there, General."

Your eyes found Rex's face. The look of concern painted over his features. His eyes were blown wide, his eyebrows furrowed a little. But hidden underneath was a sliver of relief, or maybe a big sliver.

"Wha...what happened?", you managed to croax out.

"You...you jumped infront of a bomb. You saved us, General."

Before you could answer, Kix came rushing down the aisle of the medbay with a Med-droid following close behind.

They checked your vitals, your eyes and ears, then asked you some questions you barely remember.

Everything happened under the watchfull eyes of your Captain, which in the meantime let go of your hand. If he didnt, his brother would be nagging him about it for a long time.

After Kix was finished, he gave you some quick infos about what would happen next.

You were on bed rest for at least 2 weeks, you insisted that you wouldn't need them, but right in that moment, your head betrayed you and started hurting a little more. You let out yet another groan, then Kix left, giving you a 'I told you so' look.

Once you were alone, you moved your head in the direction of Rex, who was already looking at you with a look you could not quite figure out. A shaky breath left his lips as he opened them to say something.

"What were you thinking...?"

"What?"

It was a whisper which you couldnt understand due to the still present ringing in your ears.

"What the KRIFF were you thinking!"

You flinched a little. You have never, NEVER, seen him so angry.

"You could have gotten yourself killed!"

""Please Rex, could you lower your voice a little? My head is killing me..."

"It would not hurt that much if you didnt throw yourself infront of a BOMB!"

You wanted to answer, to get back at him with a snaky remark, but you couldnt. He left you literally speechless. Was he angry because you safed him and his brothers from their definite death?

"Wha...what was i supposed to do? Let you get blown up?"

"YES! Kriff...you are not supposed to put your life on the line for someone like us...for someone like me..."

The last part was barely above a whisper. He turned his head away so he wouldnt have to look at you.

This took you aback. What was he talking about? Was he serious?

"What do you mean with 'people like me'?"

You gave him some time to answer, but as he still hasnt looked at you nor said a word, you lifted your arm slowly to caress his cheek.

At first he stiffened at the unfamiliar feeling of your hand on his cheek, but after mere seconds, he leaned his head against you touch, fully submerging in the warmth of it.

"Rex, talk to me. What did you mean?"

He inhaled sharply as he turned his head around to look at you again.

"What i meant is...we are clones, sir. We were bread for this exact purpose, to serve in battle. We were also bread to die, as harsh as it sounds. One of us dies, a few thousand are coming to take his place. You on the other had...your life is way more worthy as mine will ever be. As i said, we are clones...we are meant to be expendable."

Once again, the captain has left you speechless. Thats what he was thinking about himself? About his brothers?

No.

No one thinks about themselves that way. It was drilled into their minds. Not only by the Kaminoans, but also by your fellow jedi and politicians.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didnt even notice, that Rex was about to leave. A small panic rose inside of you. You couldnt let him go after what he just said to you.

"Rex! Wait! What are you doing?...please stay..."

You mustered some strengh to sit up and still reach his arm in time. The pain that shot through your body was screaming at you to lay back down, but as you met the captains teary eyes, it was forgotten.

You pulled him back to sit down in the chair next to you again. But as he was sat, you still did not let go of his arm. Instead, you moved your hand towards his and held it.

"I...I dont know how you must be feeling about...about the thing you just told me. I cant imagine it, but to me, your life is just as valuable as any other. I dont care if you are a clone or a jedi or...or even a droid. You have feelings, you have a personality. Your life is important. Your...your life is everything to me..."

As Rex heard the last sentence, his eyes snapped towards yours. It seemed like he didn't believe you at first, but the longer he looked into your eyes, he noticed the truth and honesty behind your words.

"You dont have to say anything but...I feel like its time to speak my mind. I woud do it again. One hundred percent. I would jump infront of a hundred bombs, just to know you are safe and ALIVE. That doesn'tjust apply to you, but also your brothers. But...especially to you..."

You smiled slightly as you said the last words.

By the looks of it, the captain infront of you was dumbfounded. It took him a minute to process your words, but as he let them go through is head, he realised what you meant. At least he hoped so.

He searched your face for anything that told him otherwise, though he couldnt find it. Your eyes screamed sincerity, there was nothing that could deny that.

With your hand still in his, he leaned forward. He was just inches from your face, you could feel his breath on your lips.

"Just so you know...I would do the same for you, General."

He looked at your lips, then back into your eyes as if he was asking for consent. You nodded slightly and with that, his lips connected with yours.

[kometqh]

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives Every night, without fail, you wake up crying, heaving as you realise the monsters of your nightmares have been long left behind on the battlefields you fought on alongside your beloved Clone Troopers, the 501st Legion. Every night, without fail, you note down all your thoughts and feelings onto paper, into your beloved Diary that your Jedi Master has given to you as a gift. What happens when the Captain and Trooper of the 501st get their hands on your prized possession? Word Count: 2845 Warnings: Very much unedited, most definitely not lore-accurate as I have just begun to watch Clone Wars. A/N: A spur-of-the-moment kind of fic, it will be a two parter story :) It does say Female reader as that is what I had in mind, however there are no pronouns or descriptions used that allude to the reader being female!

Your body shot straight up, sweat rolling down the side of your temple, shoulders heaving up and down rapidly through heavy breaths. You wearily scanned the area, the room you found yourself in, your bedroom, hidden under a blanketed darkness. You could vaguely make out the different shapes of objects in your room; the steel wardrobe, the desk seated in a faraway corner, the tall frame of the door. The small line of light that peaked through provided some comfort, some more visibly.

A shaky hand reached for the night light beside your temporary bed - a silver steel, upright lamp that provided a bright, white light. It didn't provide much comfort as hard white light flooded the room, but it was enough to convince you that the terrors in your dreams weren't physically present in your waking days. 

Heaving a slow, heavy sigh, you slid back down into the pale comfort of your sheets, hugging a pillow to your body. 

As you laid there, light still on, eyes shut, you were engulfed in the sound of deafening silence. You could almost hear the light buzzing of the mechanical structures of the ship, ringing in your ears. 

You sighed again, turning your body to face the door. The light from the outside tickled at your eyelids, forcing them to flutter open. With a groan, you shoved your nose deeper into the soft material of your pillow, beginning to count down, hoping that, the mental image of numerous General's jumping up and down like innocent sheep, would lull you back to sleep soon enough.

Mini Skywalker's, Plo Koon's and Obi Wan Kenobi's cluttered your mind, hopping over a tall fence as you silently counted, 'One.. Two.. Three' and so on. It was definitely interesting image to think of, but in the meantime, it did little to stop your body from tossing and turning, heaving and sighing, twisting in your sheets.

With another, heavy sigh, you reached into your bedside draw, pulling out a small notebook and pen. You flipped it to the most recent page, jotting down the date and time, a small curse leaving your lips as you noticed the time; 01:25. 

You were going to become a zombie at this rate.

Nethertheless, you began spilling words onto the page, the crease between your brows easing as time passed, the fast pace of your heartbeat steadying with each word that slipped past the boundaries of your mind.

By the time sleep had finally pulled you into it's clutches, your mind could tell the ship was leaving hyperspace, and approaching a new atmosphere, your diary and pen abandoned at your side, left open on the most recent page yet again.

You awoke when the ship had landed; merely five hours later. The metal hit the ground with a thud, successfully forcing your eyes open. You laid there for a long while, ears twitching as you listened to the distant sounds of clone troopers wandering the hallways, accompanied by loud chatter and laughter. 

Those moments, those peaceful moments, where your men could take a moment to relax and unravel were your favourite. You fought hard to keep every single one alive, the guilt chipping away at your sturdy resolve, discipline and beliefs in the Jedi rules. 

You had broken one of the most important rules from the very beginning; it was forbidden to form attachments. How could you abide by such a cruel rule, when you were stationed with the same men for the last three years, getting to know them, living with them, laughing and sharing meals? To you, such a rule shouldn't exist. You could tell many other Jedi also disagreed with it - Anakin Skywalker being one amongst many. Even Obi Wan Kenobi, whose rebellious personality did very little to hide his affections for a certain Mandalorian Senator..

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes, looking around the room. 

A warm glow peaked through the tightly shut curtains, warming your skin in a gentle embrace. Even though your eyes burned with exhaustion, you had willed yourself to get up. It was already 07:00, your men were definitely up and ready for their mission briefing. 

Though they'd have to wait a little longer, you supposed.

This was meant to be an easy, diplomatic mission centred around a Neutral planet. You and your troops, the 501st, would be ensuring the citizens' safety, and potentially discussing joining the Democratic Republic. 

After spending some time getting ready, you left your quarters, silently stalking through the hallways, a distant rumble of the canteen ringing in your ears. The closer you got, the more shouts and lively conversations you could hear. 

All of those men shared the same exact voice, but the small differences in speech patterns, accents, tone and volume, were enough for you to be able to distinguish between your squadron without even seeing any of their faces.

Tugging your robes closer to your body, you entered the canteen, heading straight for the food buffet. It was going to be a simple mission - grab some toast, some water, and escape before anyone could notice you. 

And simple it would of been, if it wasn't for a certain Captain's sharp eyes and enhanced instincts; as if an alarm went off in his head anytime you appeared within his vicinity. 

In no time, you felt his warm breath fan over the back of your neck, his chest close enough for you to feel the coolness radiating off his body armour.

"Good morning, Captain." You spoke softly, a hint of tiredness still laced within your voice as you blinked slowly, placing a piece of toast on your tray.

"G'morning General," His voice came out a rolling, warm rumble, directly by your ear as Rex leaned over you, "What are you having for breakfast?" He asked, his honey-brown eyes scanning over your food tray. 

"Nuffin special, Captain, just a plain toast and water, how 'bout you?" You asked, moving away from the queue and to an empty table. You looked to Rex, noticing the corners of his lips tugging upwards, the sight warming your closed-off heart. You desperately wanted to cradle the side of his face in your palm, to soothe over the lines that wedged themselves between his eyebrows, noticing his exhaustion still showing even after a decent night's sleep.

"I've already had my breakfast with Fives and Echo, woke up quite early actually." He spoke softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as his palm rested on the small of your back, leading you to your seat.

Confusion took over your body as you sat down, bringing the toast up to your lips, taking a bite. "So, why are you here then, Captain?" You asked through a mouthful, eyeing him up and down, confusion clear as day across your face. 

At that, his face hardened into one he wore often during meetings and battles, an uncertain heaviness clouding his eyes. His fists clenched atop his lap, his lips pulling into a thin line. He wished to discuss the mission with you; hoping to lessen the number of men needed. Though he wasn't sure how willing you'd be to give your men a small vacation, he still wanted to attempt to provide his brothers with some respite. 

What kind of Captain would he be if he didn't consider his soldiers' health?

"Actually- I wanted to discuss the mission with you, General," He paused, breaking eye contact as his gaze dropped to his lap, then scaled back up to focus on the ice-blue, steel table separating the two of you, "I was thinking-"

"Thinking too much isn't good for you Rex, you've got enough lines on your forehead already." You joked, interrupting the clearly tense Captain. As you eyed him up and down with a soft smile, his shoulders visibly relaxed, the thin line his lips had become turning into the softest of smiles, his cheeks puffing up into marshmallows over the stretch. 

"W-Well, I was wondering if you could allow my men to take this time to rest." He stated, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he eyed you from underneath a curtain of lashes. He was using his best puppy eyes, knowing very well what effect those had on you.

You blinked once, then twice, your eyes widening owlishly as you stared at Rex.

Was he.. Trying to woo you?

You sat just the smallest bit straighter, your shoulders stiffening as you begged the Maker for Rex to not pick up on the sudden stiffiness that clutched onto your body with a steel grip.

Why was he making things so much harder for you?

"R-Rex.. I'm not sure I-" You started, your stomach dropping as he released a defeated sigh.

"I know General, I know.. It's just that, after the last mission, we're all still quite exhausted." He spoke, his gaze unwavering as he leaned closer to you, his scent invading your nostrils. He smelled of the Canteen's breakfast, a faint scent of aftershave lingering over him. Had he shaved already? You never got to see more than a hint of stubble on his jaw and chin, before it was gone with the wind; like it never even existed.

That's why you were grateful for Fives; that man's goatee could��never disappoint. You were sure a beard of some sorts would suit Rex so well - it wasn't too difficult to imagine with his brother around, serving as an example. 

What would it feel like to feel the short hairs underneath your fingers? To feel the smooth skin of his cheek under your palm? The soft plushness of his lips against yours-

"General?" He interrupted your fleeting thoughts, a glint of hope shining in his eyes as you shook your head lightly. 

It was the defeated, gentle sigh that gave you away. 

If it were anyone else, Rex would never dare to ask such a question. But with you- with you, his men felt most comfortable, most safe. They respected you, and could feel you returning that respect every time you'd prioritise their lives over yours, telling them to retreat, to find cover as you had a handle on every situation, on every battle. You never abandoned them.

"Fine.. But I'll need at least one of you to accompany me." You paused, quirking a brow at the Captain, conveying your seriousness in just one look. "And I'll need the men to be on guard, okay? We can't risk being caught off guard if anything were to happen." You finally finished, your toast long forgotten, cooling down in the chilled canteen, as Rex graced you with the gentlest of smiles, his gaze softening the longer he listened to you.

He knew he could count on you, and he would prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. That it wouldn't be. 

Clearing his throat, Rex stood up from his seat, rounding the table to you. 

"Thank you General, I can assure you that the squadron will be ready for any and every circumstance, and I will personally escort you to the meetings. You have my word." He spoke, reaching his hand out for yours. Confusedly, you extended your hand into his grasp, a hint of pink dusting your cheeks as he pressed a swift kiss to your knuckles.

"R-Re- Uhm, Captain," You stuttered and paused, clearing your throat as you prayed for the blush to go away, "There is no need to thank me." You insisted, slowly getting up from your seat. His gaze followed you, tracing over your body with an unknown emotion hiding behind his thick lashes.

"Thank you General, now if you'll excuse me, I'll go inform the others that haven't heard." He stated, bidding you a goodbye, cheers following soon after as Rex lifted a hand, signing a thumbs up to some of his men behind you. Your gaze followed his form as you watched him exit the canteen, his head turning to look back at you one last time before the doors slid shut behind him. 

"What the hell was that.." You whispered, continuing your breakfast as your thoughts ran at tens of miles an hour, a blush permanently settled on your cheeks.

-

"Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?" Fives asked as he adjusted his helmet, following Rex as they made their way to your quarters.

"Yes yes, I'm sure. She should be in here anyway." Rex stated, waving his brother's concerns off as they rounded the corner, your bedroom doors coming into sight. "Besides, she said we should meet her at her quarters before we depart." He insisted, coming to a stop by your doors.

Raising his fisted hand, Rex knocked on your doors three times before backing away, waiting for a response. 

As a moment turned into a minute, and a minute turned into three, Rex knocked again, this time calling out your title. "General? Are you in there?" He asked, his voice raised in uncertainty. When he received no reply once again, he shook his head.

"I don't think she's in there." He turned to Fives, feet ready to start moving again as his brain racked over any other locations on the ship that you frequented. Fives looked at Rex, quirking a curious brow at him, though his helmet covered any and all expressions he shot in his brother's way.

"Maybe we should go in? Who knows, maybe the General got herself stuck in the refresher." He quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips as Fives made his way over to your door. Pressing a button, the doors swiftly opened before him. 

Walking over to the doors of your refresher, Rex followed after Fives, taking his helmet off, unable to, unwilling to, stop his eyes from wondering all over your room, taking note of the lack of personalised decorations in your bedroom. There was a desk, numerous multi-coloured folders stacked neatly on top of it, a small lamp next to them.

He looked over your wardrobe, his fingers itching to pull it open, to see what other articles of clothing you owned apart from your Jedi robes.

As Fives knocked at the refresher doors, his helmet at his side, Rex inched closer to your bed, noticing a small notebook hidden just beside your pillow, still open on the most recent page. His fingers reached over for it, eyes scanning over the yellow-coloured pages, gloved hands gliding over the leathery spine of the small book. 

"Oooh, what's that?"

Before Rex could react, the book was snatched from his grasp, his head snapping upwards to see Fives flipping through the pages, turning and closing the book, only to gasp. That had Rex's ears almost twitching, a curious brow quirked up. 

"What? What is it Fives?" Rex asked, standing next to his brother. 

The silence that followed made him uneasy, and leaning his head closer, he looked to the book, his lips gaping open.

"Do you see what I see?" Fives inquired, a smirk tugging at his lips as he turned his head to Rex. All that Rex could do was nod in stunned silence.

"Y/n's Personal Diary.." Fives whispered aloud, eyes scanning over the firsts page.

A lump built up in Rex's throat, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides as Fives read over the words you had messily written in your diary, his heart thumping as he recounted each memory, a soft smile tugging at both brothers' lips as they could feel every emotion you had spilled out onto the pages.

Though they quickly scrambled to hide the small book behind their backs, interrupted by the sound of your bedroom doors sliding open.

A scream left your lips as your gaze landed on the two armoured men, heart racing wildly at the unexpected scare. Their gazes didn't linger on you for too long, a faint pink ghosting over their cheeks as they looked anywhere but you.

"H-Hi General, we tried knocking but-" Rex begun, unsure of how to explain why he and his brother were snooping around your quarters.

"We were worried that you got stuck in the refresher when we heard no answer, so we wanted to make sure you were safe and ready for our trip." Fives finished Rex's sentence, casting his brother and Captain a side glance, his lips stretched into an awkward, innocent grin on his face. 

"R-Right.. Sorry, General, it won't happen again."

"That's quite alright, I'm actually flattered you men were worried about me," You spoke softly, hand covering your mouth as you giggled at their explanation, your heart warming at the thought that the two cared so much for your well-being. Though you wouldn't let yourself show just how much that thought made you blush. "Now come on, we've got meetings to go to." You exclaimed, waving the two men over as you made your way out into the hall.

Giving each other a knowing glance, Rex and Fives followed, quietly telling one another to hide the diary. Rex nudged Fives with his elbow, now too far gone to quietly and innocently return the book to its original place.

"Just shove it into your bag.." Rex hissed out through thin lips, rushing after you as he cast his brother one last glance, making sure the diary was stored safely in one of their backpacks.