#jesse and fives are the pretty bois of the GAR

[ladyzirkonia]

I love the boys but he has a special place in my heart.

Mainly created for self-interest.

[mwolf0epsilon]

The 501st Gang Meet their 105th Counterparts

A prequel to my last post

Rex, staring uneasily at the fully kitted captain Carno who is just silently staring at him: ...Uh, welcome aboard. I'm sure you'll feel right at home with the 501st and, should you need anything, we're more than willing to accomodate. Carno, continuing to stare menacingly before finally speaking up in a raspy and very hushed tone: I don't like your face. Rex: Wh-- Carno, shoving past him rudely: Stay out of my way, Blondie. I don't need some flashy Jedi's pet putting a spotlight on me. Rex, starting to think this might not be as easy as the briefing made it sound: Oh boy...

-

James, looking Jesse up and down while playing with his braid: So, is like, the tat supposed to be some kinda statement, or are you just really into licking boots? Jesse, pausing: I... Excuse me?! -staring at James wide-eyed- James: Oooh, it's a statement isn't it? Dang boy, they should slap you on a poster. Every battalion needs a show fathier, I guess! Jesse, glaring: I don't like you. James: Feeling's mutual. This ship ain't big enough for two token pretty boys. Jesse: No, no it isn't.

-

Hardcase, excitedly showing Clearcut around while talking like a ship running a click per second: Clearcut, allowing Hardcase to drag him around while sort of tuning him out and only picking up on vital pieces of information like emergency hallways, weapons storage and other such things: Hardcase: You don't talk much do ya? That's fine I'll talk for the both of us! Clearcut: By all means, carry on. Hardcase, happily carrying on: I can tell we're both gonna get along really well. Clearcut: I agree.

-

Kix, staring at Bon who's been shaking and on the verge of tears since arriving: Bon, staring back at Kix with very wet eyes while holding a fully stocked medkit in hand: I get to use this on anyone who comes in here? Kix, blinking: ... Yes. This is the medbay after all. Bon: And I'm allowed to treat them? I'm allowed? Kix, feeling a little uneasy: Yes...? Bon, openly crying now: This is the happiest day of my life... Kix, incredibly uncomfortable: Ah...

-

Echo & Fives, having a stare down with Wallflower & Nowt: Wallflower & Nowt, staring back at Fives and Echo with an impassive and a smug look respectively: Fives, opens up his mouth to say something: Nowt: Bitch. Wallflower, turning to slap his brother across the face: Captain said to put a sock in it. Nowt: The captain can suck it! If it wasn't for me he wouldn't know half the kark the others get up to when he's not looking! Wallflower: Karkin' snitch! Fives, closing his mouth and looking at Echo: Echo, nodding at Fives as both of them slowly back away from the now furiously arguing Jenga Twins:

-

Tup, sitting on the floor wrapped in a thin blanket because he was kicked out of his bunk and had his belongings taken: Can I at least have my brush back? Lobo, tossing him a pair of scissors instead: No amount of brushing will make that rat's nest look any less like osik. Tup, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the scissors and now standing up angrily: I'm gonna knock your teeth out. Lobo, equally angry: I'm gonna make you eat your own hair. Tup & Lobo launch themselves at each other and proceed to start a fight:

-

Dogma, a little overwhelmed as Caprichoso pulls him along while he's supposed to be the one giving him a tour of the ship: Caprichoso, wide-eyed and extremely excited about everything he's seen so far: Wow! You 501st lot have EVERYTHING! Good eats, tons of new gear up for grabs, full training room setup, clean showers, clean barracks, fully stocked medbay... Your Jedi spoil you so good! You must be the greatest troopers ever! Dogma: I... I wouldn't say they spoil us... That'd be a sign of unfair favoritism and would go against the no fraternization rules. And while the 501st certainly has a degree of great competency among many of the GAR's forces, those things you've listed are all requirements that were put forward to the Republic since the beginning of the army's first year of deployment. An ill-prepared and ill-equipment battalion wouldn't serve properly. Caprichoso: I know what you mean. But our general didn't see it that way. Thought we could push ourselves to be better without extra help... But eh! Who cares? The blighter is dead an' buried while we're here now! Gosh... You think your medic could give me a once over? Or or or, maybe we could hit the mess? Or uh! A shower yeah! I haven't had a shower in two weeks... My armour's getting more rank than I am ehehe! Get it? Dogma, moving slightly away from Caprichoso out of mild disgust: I, yes, a hot shower and a hot meal, then I can continue giving you the to-- Caprichoso: YOU GUYS GET HOT WATER?! I LOVE IT HERE ALREADY! -hugging Dogma tightly- We are gonna be such great friends! Dogma, eyes watering at the intense stench of B.O as well as the bone crushing hug of the rather clingy trooper: Stars have mercy...

[clone-anon-after-dark]

A Little Closer (Captain Rex x GN Asexual Aromantic Reader)

Word Count: 2722

Warnings: minors DNI, frank discussions of sex but nothing more, some chaste kissing, reader is sex-repulsed aroace, angst in regards to Order 66 (I'm sorry okay! This was getting long and I didn't know how to also make it an Everyone Lives AU also)

A/N: I wrote these headcanons for clones with ace partners and basically now I want to write at least one fic for each clone with a partner who is somewhere on the aroace spectrum.  (I’m taking requests if you have any.)  Ultimately the relationship in this one is going to be a queerplatonic partnership with I love yous. There is some reverse comfort. No use of reader's pronouns.

I would be remiss if I didn't say thank you @starrrgazingbunny! Your reblog and comments on those headcanons helped shape the relationship in this story.

You sat near 79’s and wanted to cry.  All you could think about were those many nights with the 501st boys, laughing, eating, dancing, and sharing stories.  You didn’t jump on the dance floor immediately, but it was hard to be shy when Hardcase, Fives, and Jesse all shuffled you toward the center of the room.  They had no shame in their dance moves and brought out more of your fun side.  You smiled to yourself as you thought of all the times you talked and took their mind off the war.  You remember the night someone had pulled the fire alarm and you were all kicked out. You invited the boys home to hang out for a little while.  Rex chuckled watching Tup, Dogma, Kix, Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase all try to sit on your couch followed by Hardcase insisting there was room for everyone as long as you, Rex, and Echo sat on their laps. There was not, in fact, any more room and your poor sofa creaked beneath them.  You just grinned and got some extra chairs out and moved the table so everyone could sit somewhere. No one seemed to mind it being a little crowded.

It was the same night that the boys were discussing their futures. Not so much about the war, but Hardcase had met a woman he loved and disappeared to her every day he could when they were on Coruscant.  Jesse was in the process of getting to know someone and Dogma had a date lined up.  They had never been prepared for social relationships outside of the GAR, nevermind romantic relationships. They quickly turned to you for advice, as a nat-born.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said. “I’m aroace and will never have sex.”  Each man tilted his head and knitted his eyebrows slightly, mulling over this statement. You took the time to explain the spectrum of sexual and romantic attraction and that, yes, you still liked people and platonic relationships.  You even thought about having a committed relationship sometimes, but hadn’t found the right person for that.  You carefully waded into the topic of lost loves and unspoken wishes when you knew a friend would only remain a friend. You told them you dreamed more about building a home and sharing a life with someone, but that didn’t have to include the things romantic movies seemed to covet.  

“Are those things not important regardless of how you feel about sex, or even romance?”  The question came from Rex, who up until now, had been practically silent. You looked into his eyes, and felt a spark of hope.  It was quickly interrupted by a well-meaning Hardcase.

“Yeah, I love more than sex. I feel a connection when I’m with my girlfriend. She understands me. We spend time doing more than making out and getting naked.”

“Thank you for that information,” Tup said, rolling his eyes.

You smiled, getting his meaning.  “I think that strong, long-lasting relationships are built on closeness and understanding.  There are some people out there who have no interest in getting close to someone on an emotional level and only want the physical, sure. I think it’s pretty normal to figure out what you want and seek that out.”

“People tend to want to be understood and care for each other,” Rex added quietly.  The men all nodded their heads and you couldn’t help but find a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth.

You didn’t tell the boys some things. Like how you were sometimes up front about being sex-repulsed because you knew it would weed out some people.  It felt like a shield against future pain.  You knew not everyone would understand and you didn’t want to waste your time, but that night you felt like they were doing their best to understand.

You now felt a pang thinking back to that night.  All those men figuring themselves out in the way that nat-borns normally had years to do.  They grew up too fast to fight a war, but they had the same basic needs and desires as anyone.  Now that the Empire was in power, so much had changed.  You didn’t know where they all were, but you missed each one of them.  You especially missed Rex.  That night had been one filled with hope for you.  Hope that someone would understand what you wanted in a relationship and not demand you sacrifice your body and wishes for their own needs.  Now you were really alone, trying to figure out how to function with so much changed.

Your old job with the GAR had been terminated and you were left to trade parts and barter your skills as a mechanic.  It was in the process of trading parts that you met the Martez sisters.  One night you found yourself on their platform, agreeing to help fix a ship for a friend of theirs while they were off on a job. You weren’t given a name or anything, just a description that included blonde hair and a more thorough description of the ship. They neglected to tell you that he was a clone.  The ship landed and you stepped toward it as the door opened to reveal a familiar face.

“Rex?” You dropped the tool in your hand and tears came to your eyes. He was dressed more like a civilian, but that face was unmistakable.

His breath was nearly knocked out of him as he quickly covered the short space between you and pulled you into his arms.

“It’s so, so good to see you,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “I wanted to find you. Find someone. After everything I couldn’t come back to the barracks. I couldn’t…” His voice was barely a whisper and he pulled you in for another hug.

As you worked on his ship, he helped, handing you tools and filling you in on what happened.  You thought of Hardcase, Tup, and Fives gone. You mourned for them during the war.  Now Jesse. Rex didn’t know what happened to Dogma or Kix, but at least Echo was okay. He sat, staring forward, and tears streamed down his face.  You stopped your work and sat next to him, pulling him close while he cried into your shoulder.

As he quieted he apologized.  “I’m so sorry. I think of them every day.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Rex. I miss them. I missed you. I never thought I’d see you again.”

That day changed your life.  You did everything you could to help Rex and the network of clones.  When more were rescued, you were ready with food and clean clothes.  You fixed ships and saved credits.  Eventually, you started going on missions that weren’t so much on the dangerous side as the practical side. Helping rescued clones start new lives in a handful of places that were as far away from the Empire as possible, expanding the network.  You helped Rex find several places to lay low and a few escape routes through the galaxy.  While you had offered to come on all the missions, he insisted he didn’t want you put in the way of more danger, but then one day, Rex and Gregor barely made it back.  You and Wolffe were waiting after a supply run and were both practically tearing your hair out.  

“What happened?!” You both shouted once the door to the shuttle opened.  Gregor explained that there had been some mechanical trouble, lost comms, and they had to jump around that part of the galaxy for a while to find someone to assist. 

“It was beyond our expertise,” Rex added.

You rolled your eyes. “If only you knew someone who was a mechanic,” you replied.

“It’s too dangerous,” Rex insisted.

“I chose this, Rex.”  You looked between him, Wolffe, and Gregor. “Now I know Gregor and Wolffe have told me that they would appreciate the help, but you keep saying ‘no.’ Why? I’m with you. I want to do this!”

Gregor and Wolffe froze in place and silently looked between each other and Rex.  Rex just rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he admitted.

“Then help me with my blaster aim.”

He couldn’t help but grin at that.  Joining the boys consistently changed a lot of things.  You became better on your feet in sticky situations and since you weren’t a clone, you blended into certain scenarios much easier.  It was an advantage.  You also got to know the boys much better.  Knowing someone you worked with and becoming friends that way was one thing.  Living on a ship with them, sometimes for months at a time, was another.  While you had become closer to all three of them, you started to feel something for Rex that couldn’t quite be put into words. It was some form of love, but you didn’t know what to make of it.

One evening Gregor and Wolffe turned in early so they could get some sleep before their watch.  You stayed sitting by the campfire with Rex.  You felt some discomfort from him, but waited as he formed his thoughts.  Your heart dropped at the thought he might have noticed you acting a bit differently around him. Were you acting different? You couldn’t quite tell.  You tried to play it cool, but that didn’t always work out.  You were brought out of your thoughts when he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How do I put this?”  You waited until he continued. “Many rotations ago, a few cycles ago now, we were at your place with some of the boys talking about relationships and you said you don’t feel romantic love or want to be, umm, intimate.  Is that still true?”

“Wha?” The partially-formed word left your lips before you could stop it. You weren’t expecting him to be so forward. “Yeah. Yeah I still feel that way.”

Rex continued. “But you do feel love. I mean, you show us all love in some form. And I was just wondering if you… if it’s okay that I love you.”

“If it’s okay that you love me? Of course it’s okay,” you answered, much to his relief.

“I just don’t know how to go about some of these things,” he said, “But I feel such love for you. Love unlike any I’ve known. I don’t know what to call it and in many ways I don’t care.”

“I do love you,” you told him. “I am happiest with you, even on the worst days when everything breaks down. I am most content with you. My footing is solid when you’re with me.”

Rex scooted a little closer to you. “How can I show you how I feel? What do we call this?”

You shrugged at the last part. “Let’s figure it out together. Maybe we could start with this.” You held out your hand to take his and he gladly intertwined his fingers with yours.  He wanted to kiss you, but asked first.  You didn’t want to say no, but simply said, “Give me time.”  He nodded and instead rested his forehead on yours. That felt pretty perfect.

It took time to figure out what did and didn’t work for you.  You always enjoyed the idea of cuddling and started there.  You invited him into your bed, first for afternoon cuddles and then to sleep.  You were both asleep almost instantly once you found a comfortable position in each other's arms. You started spending time snuggling against each other and one day while sitting in the cockpit he gently started to pull you onto his lap.

“This okay,” he asked. 

You nodded and sat.  You rested your forehead to his and put an arm around his shoulders, whispering “I love you.”

When your ship was barely worth anything for scarp, you sold it, and were surprised to find Rex already knew what ship you’d get next.  It wasn’t new, but it was still in excellent condition.  When you moved your belongings inside you found that there were only three bunks, but he then showed you how a fourth extended out from the wall, giving the two of you more room in bed together.

“I love this,” you said. “Is that the only reason you picked this ship?”  

He grinned and scratched the back of his head. “Well, not the only reason. There’s also more storage space.”

You looked into his deep brown eyes. He had put so much thought into it just to make sure you were comfortable and not squished too badly between him and the wall.  You realized that this was the nicest bed he’d probably ever slept in and your heart danced thinking about how you’d be the one sharing it with him.

When it came time to turn in, you found Wolffe and Gregor laying in the bed, hands behind their heads, looking up at you.

“What are you two doing?”

“Who says you and Rex get this bed,” Gregor playfully asked.

“Maybe we’d like to stretch out a bit sometimes,” Wolffe added.

“Well, finish your stretching and get going because I need to snuggle with my partner.”

They both looked at you with raised eyebrows. You hadn’t put a name to the relationship before, but your heart sang at the word. Partner. Rex was your partner and that made you very happy.  When he came to bed, Rex found you laying under the covers reading a holonovel.  The lights were low and he felt calm as he got in next to you.

“Partner, eh,” he asked with a soft smile.  You nodded with a shy smile, not realizing he overheard.

“I like that,” he said. “Feels pretty perfect.” 

He laid down and opened his arms up for you. You smiled as he pulled you.  You buried your face in his neck and gave him a little squeeze.  

“I love you, Rex.”

“I love you too.”  You both fell asleep feeling at total peace.

Life would not always be easy. Certainly hiding from the Empire was hard enough, but then there was dealing with the psychological aftermath of the war.  On the eve of Empire Day, you woke up to Rex shaking in his sleep. His mumbles got louder and you shook him, whispering his name to wake him.  When he woke up, his eyes searched yours in a frenzy as tears streamed down his cheeks.  He looked lost and utterly devastated. You knew he was dreaming about his chip activation.  You don’t know what came over you, but you kissed his forehead and caressed his face, wiping his tears away.  You’d never kissed before, but it was the best way you could express that everything was okay now, you were here with him, you loved him, and he didn’t have to be afraid.  The emotions overwhelmed him and he sobbed for a little while as you cradled him in your arms.

“It’s okay now,” you said quietly. “You’re here with me and I’m not going anywhere.”

As he calmed down he looked into your eyes. “Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes,” you said.  “I’m sorry I took so long to come around to it.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry for knowing what you need,” he replied.

“Maybe not on the lips,” you asked.

“I know. How about your beautiful cheeks?”

You nodded.  Rex cupped your face and kissed each cheek.  He nuzzled his nose against yours ever so gently.  Your body felt a little stiff, taking in the new sensation, but it was wonderful and you soon melted into his arms again.

“I like that,” you admitted.

“So do I.”

The next morning you woke up before Rex and while usually you’d get up and ready for the day, you decided to stay in bed with him.  As if he could sense you making this decision, he held you a little closer.  You smiled to yourself.  When you both eventually got up, you found Wolffe and Gregor around a fire, making a late breakfast.  You joined them, you sat right next to Rex, arm against arm as you ate.  You leaned your head against his shoulder and he instinctively put his head on yours.  It was the best place in the galaxy and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tagging: @dukeoftheblackstar @staycalmandhugaclone

[danny-chase]

It’s always been weird to me that while the Fab Five (Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Wally West, Roy Harper and Garth) are rightly too old for the Teen Titans and have all “graduated” so to speak, the same seemingly isn’t the case for the New Teen Titans generation as well? Like Cyborg, Starfire, Beast Boy and Raven should all be in their early twenties at least? Vic and Kory moved on in the New 52, but Gar and Raven seem perpetually stuck where they started, when frankly I’d rather see how they could work in other team dynamics - say, Raven in the Shadowpact/Justice League Dark and Beast Boy with Justice League International. What do you think?

Calling what happened to Kory in the New52 "moving on" is pretty generous. like she worked with a different team, but like. she was there to be eye candy to male readers (which has been a problem in titans comics too, but generally titans comics give her a bit more... purpose???) This is beside the point though.

The thing to me is - the titans aren't just a team, they started out as friends in the og series, they lived together (under Mr. Jupiter), and helped each other grow up, and eventually it seemed like they outgrew one another and went their separate ways - as you do when you grow up, you leave your family.

Then Raven brought together a new generation of the Titans, bringing along some of the old ones (Dick, Wally, Donna) and adding in some new ones (Gar, Kory, Vic) and i think in this iteration of the Titans, they grew closer than they had before, partly because out of this generation - a lot of them didn't have anywhere else to go. Like Raven - who brought them together - couldn't go home to Azarath, so Titans Tower, effectively became her home. Kory couldn't go home - she started living with Donna soon after. Dick was on the outs with Bruce (for different reasons pre and post crisis), Dayton sucks as a parent to Gar, Donna's got the Amazons but she's outgrown them (and at least in the first titans series, they left her behind at one point and she was living in the titans cave until Roy was like "guys you know she's living here right" and they found her an apartment), Vic's dad dies soon after the series starts, and Wally is mr. normal because marv didn't like him. The characters at this point were mostly adult, and found family in one another. And eventually everything blew up because *gestures vaguely at DC editorial making stupid decisions*

Now from here we have The Teen Titans (1996) as the next iteration of the Titans which is it's own unique team with all new characters. After that there's The Titans 1999 which has the fab five + Vic + Kory + Jesse + Toni + Grant. And they directly formed because the fab five missed each other, they missed being with their family. And of course this also ends in disaster - Donna and Lilith die and they split again, leading to Teen Titans (2003) and Outsiders (2003) and eventually this generation of the titans don't come back until The Titans (2008)

To me, though. The titans aren't something you outgrow. They're a family - they're messy as hell, yeah, but they all love each other and they need time away from one another, but they're family. One of the reasons I dislike Teen Titans (2003) so much is because the core four doesn't feel like family to me (they feel like a friend group in the middle of their break up era), they're there out of obligation of fucking things up with Donna (and they shit on the old version of the Titans more than I like). Kory, Vic, and Gar are there as mentors, they're there because it's the titans and they'll always be there for the titans. And the arcs it gives Raven and Joey i just... they literally understood the characters so poorly. This is also the comic that started de-aging Raven and Gar, and forced them together to match the shipping that went on because of the cartoon *blegh* I would also like to point out, that I feel like this comic does have Kory and Vic as older - so at this point they join the fab five in graduating age wise

Now in Titans (2008) which is a comic that is. such a mixed bag (flaming dumpster fire, with some occasional sweet issues). We have a lineup that has: Dick, Roy, Donna, Raven, Vic, Kory, and Gar. Raven and Gar are younger, due to de-aging, but again, it's a team brought together in crisis because their family is being attacked. And they fall apart again, Deathstroke makes his own version of the Titans *blegh* and the reboot happens erasing the Titans all together up till Titans Hunt. The rebirth line ups are pretty ehhh in my opinion

I think one of the issues with the Titans stems from the fact that they think Robin is replaceable, and they can just slot which ever one they want in, mostly match up with the lineup on the cartoon and boom success. Yeah no. The appeal of Titans to me is the found family dynamic, and having a Robin younger that's not Dick, erases all that messy family history, and while you can successfully start writing new dynamics, a lot of the writers do so... poorly. Like I only read the first 30 issues or so of Teen Titans (2003) before giving up, and Tim felt out of place on the Titans - they didn't really do much to build up Kory and Vic's relationship with him, and had him as the de-facto leader of the core four, despite them previously voting him out of the role (because he's Robin and Robins get to be the leaders or something). Then you have Damian kidnapping 4 characters that are stronger than him to start off his Teen Titans Rebirth run, which i thought was super dumb. They may have different Robins on the Titans at different points at time, but the Titans are Dick's family, they're part of his history, they're where he grew out of the Robin role (which frustratingly was erased by NW: Year One) and became his own man/hero. They're people he grew up with, they're people he helped grow up, and so on. Just swapping him out and expecting things to work is silly to me, there's a reason the other titans heroes listen to Dick and that respect was built up through decades of comics, you have a lot to build off of rather than starting from scratch

Now another issue as i've mentioned, is this idea that they have to match the cartoon to get people to read. And it's so frustrating!! The titans were popular as a comic first! The cartoon totally shaved down the characters to make them easily identifiable to the kids watching the TV shows and Kory and Raven's characters especially never recovered. Like all you need to do is read the first issue of the Starfire SOLO to see how badly her character was impacted - yeah she got to grow up, but at what cost 😭. i think you're equivalating growing up and moving on as a character to getting good content but you can't look me in the eyes and tell me Kory's been treated better outside of Titans comics (at best she's treated the same, at worst the comics make me so uncomfortable i have to put them down). The show also spawned the stupid as fuck ship between Raven and Gar, which would have never happened between their comic book counterparts, and requires constantly aging Raven down to messily slot them together. I think yeah, Gar was always going to be a bit younger than the Titans, because he started out roughly 3 years younger than most of them. At this point i feel like the comics have just shot themselves in the foot by insisting the two must be a pair at all times, and that Raven must follow her personality in the cartoon (single word: goth). I don't think just putting them on new teams is going to fix that. i think a writer is going to have to do actual research on their characters, stop just referencing the toon, and commit to writing them older and possibly broken up. putting them on different teams or giving them solos would be an opportunity to define them outside of one another and the titans, but as we saw with the Starfire solo, unless they actually commit to doing the "hard" work of doing research, you're just going to get the same old garbage as a result

TLDR: i don't think the Titans is something you graduate, i think it's a family, and i don't putting Gar and Raven with different teams would automatically "fix" their de-aging issue

[bananami]

flirting with the clone troopers

I got bored and wrote a thing. Please enjoy my short little drabble on what flirting with the clone troopers would be like. It’s trash but it’s my trash <3

masterlist

tagged: @morganas-pendragons​​, @daylightanakin​

Obi-Wan had playfully labeled you a menace to the GAR. You didn’t blame him, but you wanted to throw it back in his face that he was just as bad as you were. The only difference was that you seemed unable to differentiate when it was entirely appropriate to be the outright flirt that you were.

In front of the other Generals in the middle of a briefing? Perfect time to tell Commander Neyo how great his thighs looked in that kama.

On the field in the heat of battle watching troopers toss spears literally through people? “Well now Captain Rex, what mighty strong arms you have.” *wink wink nudge nudge*

One time you and Commander Fox had been force thrown across a room only for you to land on top of him and it just slipped out naturally: “you know, all the times I’ve thought about being in this exact position with you, I never imagined it starting out like this.” He plays off the choking sound he makes as being injured from the hit you two just took.

Domino Squad are by far the most fun to flirt with because they don’t hesitate in the slightest to flirt right back.

Fives has got to be the worst of them all.

Seriously he has zero game but all the confidence of a man who does.

You absolutely love it.

Even when you’re injured and Kix is trying to stitch you up you can’t seem to hold yourself back.

“Alright General, lay down and let me work my magic-” “Kix, how unprofessional of you! And right here, in front of the others?” Anakin has never facepalmed so hard in his life. Kix’s face has never looked so red. You’ve never laughed so hard. It gets worse.

“I- ugh- you’re gonna need to- I need-” “Use your words Kix, c’mon man I’m bleeding out here.” That was a lie, but the gash on the inside of your thigh was pretty gross looking. “I need to be in between your legs.” You comply with ease and put on a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’ve dreamt about you saying those exact words- OW, Kix be gentle!”

The responses you get from the clones vary. Some of them openly flirt back, others get extremely flustered which is sweet to watch.

One time you were at 79’s hanging out with the 212th when some of the newer troopers walked in with the 501st and you couldn’t restrain yourself from sauntering on over. “How’s your night going boys, why don’t you introduce me to the shinies?”

Fives smirks and throws Tup into the deep end on this one. You reach up and tug at the troopers long hair just slightly, which makes him blush hardcore. “Go easy on him, love, you’re gonna give the poor guy a heart attack.” “I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless of course you ask me not to be.” Fives rolls his eyes and tells Tup not to take you too seriously and that you’re like this with all the troopers.

He was right, of course.

Some of them genuinely make your heart melt though.

For instance, Echo is a sweetheart. It doesn’t matter what you throw at him.

“Well now, don’t you look handsome in your new arc trooper armor.” “Nothing compared to how gorgeous you look every day, darling.”

“Keep saying things like that and you’re gonna make me fall in love, Echo.” “I could never be worthy of you, beautiful.”

And some, like Jesse, are just too smooth. It's genuinely impressive.

“What’s cooking good looking?” “Me for you tonight, what do you say doll?” “Please, you couldn’t handle me.” “Babe, I don’t think anyone could, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to try.” You nearly blushed at that one.

One time you fell over and he caught you before you could hit the ground and both you minds went to the same place. “Falling for me, cyare?” “What can I say, you’ve got me all tripped up.”

Some of them even surprised you.

Like Crosshair, from the self proclaimed bad batch. Who during a mission actually gave you a run for your credits.

“How am I looking from up there, Cross?” “Oh, just stunning, love.” “Even all sweaty and gross from fighting all these clankers?” “You kidding? I think you look better than ever like this.” “Well aren’t you just such a flirt.” A shot rings next to your ear, the droid behind you falling to the ground before it could get to you. “Pot. Kettle.”

Master Windu never failed to remind you of how inappropriate it was for you to say such things in public. Master Yoda and Plo just laughed.

Secretly Master Plo was hoping one day Wolffe would work up the nerve to do anything but stutter an incomprehensible response but the clone commander was a wreck the second you open your mouth.

Seriously Wolffe cannot flirt, he has no idea what to do or say back.  It’s adorable.

Like the time you asked him “is this seat taken?” and pointed at his lap with a sly smirk on your face. He wanted to make a witty comment back but all that came out was “wha-huh-uhm-” and you just chuckled, telling him you were just joking before sitting down next to him.

Master Plo had to step out of the room to laugh for a minute.

Sometimes you were stationed to protect the Chancellor which meant spending a lot of time with the Coruscant Guard. They were relentless in their flirtations, by far the most charming clones you’d ever met. Even Commander Fox had his moments, when he wasn’t being so serious.

Hound was probably the worst of the worst. He had you laughing so hard you at times that it physically hurt.

At one point you’d been reamed out by the Chancellor and retreated into your head. Hound noticed, and with the most serious expression, took your face in between his hands and in the most serious voice he could muster said: “I will kill him for you my sweet angel, just give me the word.”

Fox’s eyes widen and he’s got a playful glare on his face, not as upset at that statement as you thought he’d be, “Hound, you can’t -”

Hound’s eyes don’t leave yours, “I’ll kill him too.”

“hOUND”

And lets not get started on when you and Obi-Wan were sent on missions together.

“Cody, darling, you wouldn’t happen to have the time would you?”

“Cody, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job at killing those clankers!”

“Cody, love, your butt looks fantastic in that armor-”

“You can’t just say that over public comms!”

“You were thinking it, I was just saying it out loud, Obi-Wan!”

And you’re all time favorite: “Cody, that armor looks great on you, you know where it would look better? On the floor of Obi-Wan’s room.” “Are you hitting on Cody for me?”

Some of the clones had even placed bets and wagers on who could get you to slip up and become flustered.

You definitely appreciated the attempts.

Some of them had definitely come close though.

Like Commander Doom, who you danced with at 79s one night and had to run into the bathroom to splash some water on your face because holy kriff where did that man learn that kind of language. It was actually kind of impressive. And no you would absolutely not be repeating it to anyone except maybe to Obi-Wan over tea the next day in the confines of his room where no one else could hear either of you gossiping.

Or Sergeant Hunter of the 99th, who met your quips line for line. You didn’t know how but you were pretty sure he knew exactly what to say to make you almost blush.

“You can’t just take out an entire battalion of clankers on your own and not expect me to fall in love with you.” “That’s the goal, Sarge. How’d you know I was just trying to impress you?” “Call it a sixth sense.” “You think the force is trying to tell us something?” “I don’t need to force to tell me how irresistible you are.” “Be still my beating heart.”

And as much as it irritated the other General’s of the GAR, the clones genuinely appreciated the sense of normalcy it gave them. Sure it was all jokes but most spent so much time fighting that the brief moments of flirtation were a distraction from the shit show going on around them.

And besides, it wasn’t your fault they were so damn good looking.

[phoenixyfriend]

Systems’ Scourge

I am no Jedi.

She says the words every time someone questions the sabers. She says it, day in, day out, and tells herself to believe it. She says it, and word spreads, because this way her actions don’t reflect on the Republic.

She was kicked out of the Order because she was framed for terrorism.

It’s all she does now, technically. She’s a terrorist, by some definition, even if her chosen targets are slavers and drugs lords.

Her actions must not reflect on the Republic.

“General.”

She turns away from the transparisteel, away from the blur of hyperspace, and into the arms of the man she trusts above all others.

“Almost there?” she asks.

“Another hour,” Rex confirms. He waits until she steps to join him, brushing their shoulders together as they walk through the ship, beskar to durasteel.

(Bo-Katan hadn’t necessarily liked her very much, but she’d had her own strange code of honor. She chose her payments, but she ensured compensation when and where she could. And so it went: beskar for the girl without a home who helped Mandalore, even as it almost killed her.)

(The boys... well. They haven’t been able to afford proper durasteel and beskar alloy armor for everyone yet, but they’re working on it.)

We are not Mando’ade.

“Kix got back to me,” he says. “We running low on bacta again.”

“Do we still have the funds from Zygerria?”

“More than.”

“Approved,” she says, and he laughs. She rolls her eyes. “You already handled it, didn’t you?”

“Of course, cyar’e.”

She doesn’t outrank him anymore. They are equals, in this and all things. He can approve anything she can. The only time she has authority is when they’re playing roles for the underworld.

The only time he has authority is when it comes to Kamino.

“What ate it up this time?” she asks instead.

“Had a few new arrivals,” he says. “Nobody you knew, mostly shinies. Fives is helping them adjust to being alive again.”

“Echo isn’t helping?”

“Migraines.”

“I see,” she says, and casts her eyes across the corridors. Strangely empty. “I’m assuming you’re leading me somewhere?”

“Jesse wants to give you a cultural debrief before we land.”

“We’ve been to Serenno,” she says, frowning heavily. “Dooku knows us. Does Jesse think he’s already fallen and we need to readjust? I didn’t think he was anywhere close last time we checked in.”

“He’s got visitors,” Rex says, grimacing. “From the Trade Federation.”

Oh, lovely. “He does realize the galaxy knows my face at this point, right? Isn’t he worried about the Federation getting word to Republic that the Count is hosting the terrorist they’ve spent two years fearing and hunting?”

Rex shrugs. “I think Jesse might be planning a disguise.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Great. Just love the smell of cosmetics.”

"Only a few hours,” he assures her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, and decides to switch the topic. “The shinies, all 501st?”

“Affirmative.”

“And still no other GAR ships on the comms?”

“None yet.” He’s as unhappy about it as she is. She doesn’t even after feel out along the bond. He’s still holding out hope for a Marshall Commander that didn’t live long enough to see Order 66 hit. She’s still hoping for almost any Jedi that remembers the war, instead of the pleasant strangers that call her Dark.

I am no Jedi, she tells them, even as their faces shade towards confusion at her white blades. She is not Fallen, and it shows in her kyber. They don’t know what to make of her.

“Republic might start building their own army soon,” she says instead. It’s an old refrain. They both know Kuat is building ships to match their precious Venator. The Survivor, she’d named it, unable to figure out which broken vessel had been given to her in this time she’d never lived. “We need allies, not just Dooku’s bankrolling. Has Fett--”

“No,” Rex says, short and grim. “Denal got close, we think, but he said he’s not going to talk to dar’manda that take orders from a Jedi.”

Lots wrong with that sentence.

“Didn’t get him to look anyone’s face?” she guesses.

“Not enough time,” Rex says. “Denal says it was a firefight. Couldn’t risk taking a helmet off.”

“And without the faces, nobody could get him to listen anything else,” she concludes. “You’d think he would have seen the wanted posters.”

“Think he’s of the opinion that if it walks like a Jedi, talks like a Jedi, carries a saber like a Jedi...”

She rolls her eyes. “So we’re back to square one, looking to hire on new soldiers that someone’s going to have to train, that we’ll have to convince Dooku to help pay for when we can’t appropriate funds from the Hutts, that probably won’t measure up to clone standards or have any sense of how to work with you, and will be security risks.”

“About sums it up, sir.”

She shoots him a look. “You’re making fun of me.”

He grins, easy as anything. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Sir.”

She bumps her fist into the metal on his upper arm. “Remind me why I married you?”

“Well, we were pretty kriffed up,” Rex fake-muses. “Pretty sure the trauma was a big part of it.”

“Of course.”

“And we can’t forget that time you started crying on me while we were making out.”

“No doubt.”

“And we’ve been friends for the better part of a decade now, so that’s going on the list.”

“I wouldn’t dream of not including our many years of shared horrors.”

“Or that Dooku kept asking when we were going to make things official.”

“I never should have told him I was part of his lineage,” she sighs, just as they reach the door to Jesse’s favorite Cultural Debrief room. There’s an old-school projector in there, and far more cosmetics and undercover costumes than the average person would expect. It’s a fun room.

Ahsoka turns and lifts up on her toes, just enough to press her lips to his. Rex tilts his head, presses back just a moment, and then pulls away. They grip each other’s forearms, and Ahsoka doesn’t shy away when he presses his forehead to hers.

“How much longer?” he asks.

It’s the same question, every time. She never has an answer.

She was raised to keep the peace. He was born to fight for it. Neither of them have ever truly known it.

She’s not sure they ever will.

“Jesse’s waiting,” she mutters, and pulls away. He matches her smile, small and tired, but meant only for the other. She turns to the door, takes a deep breath, and steps on through. “Okay, who are we preparing today, because I’m sure as hell not meeting Gunray as General Fulcrum.”

“We’re thinking Princess Ashla this time,” Jesse says, completely unruffled by the loud entrance. “Unless you want to play up the ‘Dooku’s adopted granddaughter’ thing. The Count might appreciate it.”

“Hard pass,” she says, dropping into the makeup chair. “Princess Ashla it is.”

I am no Jedi, and so I do what they cannot.

[samspenandsword]

Sweet, Sweet Satisfaction: ARC Trooper Fives/Reader (GN)

Summary: You’re a civilian medic for the GAR and you are up to your wit’s end with the 501st shenanigans. Especially the shenanigans of a certain ARC trooper.  Pairing: Fives/Reader; gender-neutral reader with no descriptions of their appearance.  Rating: MA, 18+ (mild, but Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Mature content, no smut, mentions of sex, horniness, and masturbation — Kissing, language (reader has a potty mouth), banter, fluff, a little angst, reluctant/steamy/angry pining, Fives being Fives.  Word Count: 2.5k (oops)

“FIVES!”

Every clone around you winced. You didn’t yell often, but you had a set of lungs on you. And everyone knew that whenever you were yelling, it was usually because of one specific clone.

ARC Fucking Trooper Fives. 

You inhaled through your nose, gritting your teeth against the expletives rising in your throat. You were a professional, dammit. So why did this one fucking clone get to you so much?

You knew exactly why. Not that you’d ever admit it. 

As a civilian medic for the GAR, you knew what you had been getting into with this war. At least, you thought you did. That was until you met the clones, who were simultaneously the worst and best things to ever happen to you. Worst because they made you worry so damn much it almost gave you ulcers and premature greys, but best because, well, fuck you loved those boys. You cared for them more than you’d ever cared for anyone else in your entire life. Your service to the GAR had quickly shifted from service to the Republic to service to the clones; those brave, selfless boys who fought so hard every single day. The least you could do was fight to keep them alive and semi-healthy. You loved them all so much. Even the Wolfpack, who had been your first assignment. You came in, shiny as could be, but competent, and you still hadn’t expected it when your very first patient fucking bit you in the middle of examining him for a concussion. You’d suddenly understood why the 104th hadn’t been able to keep a medic and had cursed enough to make even Commander Wolffe flinch. 

General Koon had thought it was hilarious. 

Now, you were assigned to the 501st Legion under General Skywalker. Who was almost as bad as his men when it came to injuries. They were so wildly competent on the battlefield that it had stunned you to see the amount of paperwork your coworkers Kix and Coric had to put up with. You soon learned that the gross majority of injuries in this unit were from stunts.

Stupid fucking stunts and childish dares and bets that made you want to pull your hair out, despite how fond you were of these reckless, sweethearted boys. 

However, you could swear Fives was doing it on purpose. Nevermind the fact that he was absolutely shameless with his flirting — always claiming you were nicer to him than Kix (you weren’t), that he healed faster because of you (he didn’t), that your hands were softer than his brothers’ (you always wore gloves when treating patients), that your voice was soothing (if you found cursing and grumbling soothing), that you were pretty enough to make him feel better (as if eye bags and frown lines were pretty), that you took such good care of him (it was your literal kriffing job!).

You inhaled through your nose again, trying to regain your composure as the specific clone came into view. 

He hadn’t even bothered to show up at medbay. Instead, Jesse had commed, telling you about Fives’ newest injury and begged you to shut him up.

“Either fuck him already or sedate him.”

You’d glared deeply at that, and there was a pause as if Jesse could feel it. He quickly hung up.

You found Fives, surrounded by Jesse, Hardcase (another menace that was bound to give you grey hair), Tup, and Rex. The captain was pinching the bridge of his nose, and he stared at you with the most exhausted, suffering gaze you’d ever seen.

Your lips twitched at it.

Rex placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

“Put us out of our misery, please.”

You grinned. “Do you want me to make it look like an accident, or would you prefer I just break his neck?”

“Kark, I don’t kriffing care at this point. Just end him.”

Everyone was laughing, except for Fives, who was giving you a truly impressive pout. 

“Cyar’ika, you wound me!”

“You deserve it.”

Fives’ brothers continued to laugh. Even Rex smirked. But the captain slid his eyes to you, noticing that you hadn’t snapped at Fives for the endearment. 

Fives ignored them, batting his infuriatingly pretty eyes at you. You beat down the butterflies in your stomach with a stick. 

“You’re so hot when you’re mad.”

Your traitor cheeks went pink, and you forced your hackles to raise, sticking a finger in the ARC trooper’s face. “Listen here, you little shit —”

“Hey, now —”

“If it wouldn’t risk a court martial, I’d leave your ass to heal on its own!”

Fives flashed that signature, smug fucking grin. That grin that was over-the-top, disgustingly hot, and just so quintessentially Fives it made your heart pound. “You won’t.”

“Don’t push it.”

You rifled through your kit as Hardcase regaled you with a retelling of how Fives had managed to dislocate his shoulder. All things considered, it was a mild injury. At least, compared to some of the other shit you had treated Fives for. But you were so baffled by the story that you stared at Fives, half-impressed and half-disgusted. 

“You... You...” You felt something other than anger well up in you. and you scrambled to cover it. “You — you fucking what?”

Fives winced, but gave you that smile of his again. It only made the emotion start to boil over.

“You decided to try jumping from a gunship, parkour your way down the hangar, with binders and weights on?”

You admitted that between Fives and Hardcase you shouldn’t have been surprised by anything anymore. Even Rex had a certain recklessness to him that made you want to scream. And while none of the things Fives had tried had been the worst thing you’d ever heard, all of them together —

You supposed you should’ve been thankful. Fives could’ve gotten hurt way worse. Concussion, broken bones, lacerations from shattered armor. A dislocated shoulder was minor.

That didn’t make you feel fucking better.

You inhaled deeply, and Fives must’ve sensed the change in you. Yes, you griped. Yes, you cursed. Yes, you glared so deeply he knew he owed you a round of drinks at 79′s next time you were on leave to make it up to you. But this time was different.

You were disappointed.

“Mesh’la, I — OW!”

You ignored Fives, promptly popping his shoulder into place. You injected a bacta solution into the muscle and walked off without another word.

Fives called your name and scrambled after you.

“Wait! Wait, hang on!”

You tried your best to ignore him, but Fives was a persistent bastard. One of the reasons you liked him so much.

Yes, you liked him. You liked that Fives was persistent. You liked that he called you Mando’a pet names. You liked that he flirted incessantly with you. You liked his stupid grin, and silly bets, and battle plans so insane and impressive you were both endeared and horny. You liked that he knew the absolute worst pick-up lines and never hesitated to use them on you. You liked that he knew you so well he could order your drinks at 79′s without even needing to ask what you were in the mood for. You liked that he dragged you to the dance floor, despite your grumbling, and made you laugh and spin freely. You liked when he showed up at your apartment with liquor in one hand and snacks in the other, ready to endure a marathon night of shitty holodramas or nature documentaries with you that he refused to admit he enjoyed. You liked the all-encompassing way he told stories. The way he gave you his complete and undivided attention whenever you needed to rant and made you feel heard and seen in a way no one ever had before. You liked his eyes, and his goatee, and his tattoo. You liked the way he looked in blue, the way those damn kamas framed his thighs, and how he quirked that eyebrow just right and made you need a cold shower or the sweet relief of your own hand. You liked his commanding presence, his full-bodied laugh, his dedication and bravery.

Fives had thoroughly and completely gotten under your skin. And pretend as you might, you were not even a little bit mad about it. Maker, you just adored every inch of this man, except for the blatant way he disregarded his own safety. It was one thing to do so on the battlefield. And sometimes, it simply couldn’t be helped. But for him to be so callous about his safety while he was safe, when he should’ve been resting, when he had the choice to not be so reckless with himself — UGH!

Fives just had no semblance of impulse control. You’d known that from the moment you’d met him, before he was even an ARC trooper. And you worried that one day, Fives was going to say or do something that he simply couldn’t come back from.

Call you paranoid, but the mere thought of that fucking terrified you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped walking, simply staring at your feet, brows drawn and mouth tight. You came back to reality as gloved fingers brushed across your knuckles.

You met Fives’ apologetic gaze and set your jaw. Taking his hand firmly in yours, you marched to your bunk. Fives followed willingly. 

There were so few civilians on board that you had your own bunk. It was more functional than comfortable, but it afforded you the privacy to finally say what you wanted, needed to. As soon as the door slid closed behind you, you looked at the man who had completely stolen your heart.

“I would never stop you from doing the things you enjoy, Fives. Never. Please tell me you know that.”

Fives’ brows shot up. “Of course I do.”

You pursed your lips. You needed to get the words out, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy. “I know you enjoy the dares and the stunts and the bets. But you have got to be more careful. For Maker’s sake, Fives, you’ve injured yourself more than the Separatists ever have. Do you ever think about what could happen if something goes wrong? You could get seriously hurt, Fives! You could’ve been seriously hurt this time!” Your tone was becoming more vehement and loud, so you took a deep, shuddering breath. “Fives, I’m not saying this as a medic. I’m saying this as your friend.” You nearly choked on the word. “Please take better care of yourself. You’re doing no one any favors by constantly getting hurt, least of all yourself.” You were humiliated as you felt your lip tremble and you hurriedly looked away. “I’m not asking you to stop with the stunts, because I know you enjoy them, but please be more careful.”

Your voice was barely audible by the time you were done, and you were literally pleading. Fives was silent for the entirety of it, and you were half-waiting for him to laugh off your concern, as flippant as always. 

But he didn’t. Instead, Fives stepped right up to you and wrapped you in his arms. You couldn’t stop yourself from sinking into him.

“You’re right,” he sighed. His warm breath washed over your skin, leaving tingles and goosebumps in its wake. “You usually are.”

You found the energy to huff. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Fives tightened his arms around you. “But I didn’t realize you were such a worry-wart.”

Your face pinched. “You better take that knowledge to the grave or I’ll be the one putting you there.”

You were completely flush against Fives now, your chest pressed to his. The contact as well as his firm grip on your waist set your nerves alight.

“There you are,” Fives hummed. “My mean little cyar’ika.”

You didn’t even have time to blush, or scowl, or growl at him before Fives dipped down to kiss you.

It was all-encompassing in that way only Fives could be. His lips were completely sealed to yours and they moved in a way where you knew he was 100% focused on you and kissing you. It made the most beautiful warmth spread through you.

Before you’d even realized, your fingers were tangled in Fives’ hair, nails scraping over his scalp in your need to be connected to him. Fives’ hands dropped to squeeze your hips and you were swiftly backed into the wall. You happily let Fives press you into it, seaming your bodies together. Fives was only armored from the waist down, and you delighted in being able to feel the muscles ripple across his back. He groaned deep in his throat as you pressed your hand into the muscles of his (uninjured) shoulder and tugged his hair with the other. 

Your lips peeled from Fives’ with a lewd smack, but Fives only gave you enough time to gasp for breath before he was kissing you again. 

Every press and pull of his lips consumed you, and you were quite happily drowning in Fives. Every part of him. The way his goatee scraped against your skin, the way he squeezed your hips, the way his own hips pinned you to the wall, the way his lips sucked on your own, the unreserved way he kissed you. You were drowning in Fives. 

Drowning, even as he finally pulled away, breathing as heavily as you were. Fives pressed a pair of quick pecks to your lips, as if he couldn’t help himself. 

Those beautiful golden eyes looked at you with such adoration you could barely contain the happiness welling in you. And it was a sensation you were so unused to that you found yourself defaulting to your normal response and bad habit: snark.

“Took your sweet-ass time.”

Fives chuckled and looked at you as if he adored your bad habit. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, reverently stroking his thumb over your skin.

“That was the point — makes the first time all the sweeter.”

You dug your fingers into his black bodysuit, dragging him so close your lips brushed over his as you spoke.

“I’m not looking for sweet, Fives.”

His eyebrow quirked and his lips curled into a positively sinful smirk. “Oh?”

Fives reached down and hiked your legs around his waist so fast you gasped. Your cheeks were flooded with heat and Fives absolutely grinned. 

“Oh, mesh’la, you tempt me.” Despite the deepening of his voice, and the blatant lust in it, Fives kissed you tenderly. “But I want to do this right.”

Your heart melted. 

Cupping Fives’ face in your hand, you made sure he was looking at you, meeting your eyes. You wanted him to see the true depth of the feelings you had for him. The ones you didn’t yet have the bravery to voice.

“Me too.”

“Besides,” Fives continued, “I plan to woo you so well you’ll be begging for me. And I’ll get sweet, sweet satisfaction from it.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. And you were disgusted with how giggle-like it sounded. 

“Oh, Fives,” you cooed, stroking along his jaw. “I’m afraid, my love, that you’ll be the one begging for me.”

He tried to hide it, but your grin widened at the way he shivered.��

“Five credits?”

Your grin widened. “You’re on.”

[mcklunkers]

Sup! Bullshit Star Wars Headcanons round 15! Or it’s not 15. But I’m pretty sure it’s 15.

Anyway, here we go:

-Din Djarin loves The Princess Bride and always reads it to Grogu when the kid can’t sleep.

-99 gave Wrecker Lula.

-Thrawn wears eyeliner cos without it he thinks he looks too like Thrass and it hurts.

-Anakin added a whole bunch of cool extras to Echo’s prosthetic limbs because the Jedi wouldn’t let him do it to his own arm. This includes a Bluetooth speaker, the republic equivalent of a Nintendo DS, and a flamethrower.

-Memes are art and boy does Thrawn try to analyze ‘em. He cried. Eli laughed. It was a good night.

-Vader’s call sign is “burnt chicken nugget” because in his heart he’s still the chaotic bastard that is Anakin Skywalker.

-Thrawn has to have Ba’kif or Ar’alani help him dress for formal events in the Ascendancy cos even though he’s smart, he can never get his medals to line up right. Eli, and later Faro, helped him in the same way during his years in the Empire.

-So Empire Day is Ezra’s birthday and he hates it, so the Ghost Crew make Empire Day the one day of the year they don’t work (after that first time anyway). They let other cells deal with the Rebellion and Empire and just have a family birthday party/meal.

-Eli plays the fiddle, and he’s genuinely good.

-Hondo made himself Ezra’s emergency contact, so Ezra got hurt once and both Kanan and Hondo turned up and awkwardly stared at each other while waiting for Ezra to come back with his stitches.

-Thrass chats shit but gets mad when he’s called on his gossiping.

-Yoda is feral and 80% of Mace’s life in the temple is just spent stopping the public from finding out just how weird the grand master jedi is.

-Darth Maul has a playlist that is exclusively Prince songs. His love for Prince massively influenced the “Formerly Darth, now just Maul” line. His Spotify is just “The artist formerly known as Darth Maul.”

-Karyn Faro is technically Eli’s best friend, but her and Thrawn become crazy close friends after Eli goes to the ascendancy. They have weekly movie nights with alcohol and blanket forts.

-The shirtless lego clone troopers were actually based on a GAR propaganda video including clones selected by the generals of the 212th, 501st, 104th, and some members of the Coruscant Guard. The boxing clones are Cody and Rex, the weight lifters are Fives, Echo, Fox and Wolffe, and the ice lolly clone is Jesse, with a posing Kix in the background. This video lead to a massive surge in support, and eventually lead to the opening of 79’s.

(It’s pretty Thrawn heavy, but in my defense I’m re-reading the books and have a strange blue man obsession rn)

That’s all I’ve got, hope you enjoyed! Asks are always open if ya feel like it, have a good day lads.

[thatpanbastard]

Dear Theodosia

Arc Trooper Fives/ Reader

Fives burst into your room like a vulture droid was on his tail. You laughed slightly.

“I didn’t miss it did I? Kix he told me and the General let me go on the first transport back…” he faltered looking down at the baby girl in your arms.” Hi ik’aad.” He grinned.

“You want to hold her?” You placed the squirming bundle in his arms. You watched his heart melt. Not even a day old and she had her daddy wrapped around her finger.

“What to say to you?You have my eyes your mothers hair. I’m dedicating every day to you. Domestic life was never quite my style when you smile you knock me out I fall apart and I thought I was so smart.” He smiled down at her.” I promise that when I’m done the galaxy will be a safer place for you ik’aad.”

You snapped a few pictures and smiled.” Do you want to know what her name is?” He grinned even wider.” Tuli Eyayah l/n.”

“Eyayah?” Tears budded in his eyes.

“Echo was always her favorite.” You smiled.” It felt wrong if she wasn’t named after her favorite uncle.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“All the time cyare all the time.”

He looked back down at Tuli.” Y/n she’s half me oh force. I flew and airwhale for kicks oh little gods. What are we gonna do.” You laughed.

“Fives it’s gonna be alright. We can handle it. Anything the galaxy throws at us. But you got to calm down.” He took a few deep breathes and looked back down at Tuli

“Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad. I know your name as my child.”

——————————————

“Welcome home!!” You laughed as Torrent flipped on the lights. There was a banner on the back wall of your apartment that said welcome home ik’aad in scrawled writing.

“You guys are supposed to be on Cato Neimodia how?” Fives beamed.

“Skyguy and I kicked ass and got us out early. You think we’d mis this Ori’vod?” Ahsoka smiled.” I’ve got a niece or nephew to spoil force knows Skyguy and Senator Amidala are taking long enough.”

“Commander.” Rex groaned slightly

“What everyone already knows.” She laughed

“Maybe but it makes me feel better to pretend they don’t.”

“Does the ik’aad have a name yet so we can stop calling them ik’aad.” Jesse interrupted.

“Boys meet my daughter Tuli Eyayah l/n.” Fives grinned.

Rex came up and pulled the three of you into a loose hug.” Congratulations you’re going to make wonderful parents.”

“Actually we want to talk to you.” Fives smiled.” If anything happens to either of us we want you to take care of her.” Rex pulled back.

“Fives I I don’t know that I can. We’re not made to last.”

“Rex I trust no one more to take care of her than you.”

“It’s a just in case. It was going to be Echo but..”

“Alright but nothing is going to happen to you if I can help it vod.” You handed Tup Tuli the younger trooper was fawning over her.

“Does she have a clone name yet?” He blinked up at me.

“No?”

“I guess we’ll just have to find her one then.” Hardcase exclaimed clapping his hand on my shoulder.” That’s a pretty sweet ik’aad you made there. Are we sure this is Fives kid she’s to cute.” He turned slightly

“We share the same face vod what do you mean?” Fives pouted

“Some of use just wear it better.” Hardcase smirked

“What like you?” Jesse laughed.” Come on the entire GAR knows Commander Cody is the prettiest.”

“Master Kenobi certainly thinks so. My turn.” Ahsoka laughed taking Tuli from Tup. She had an army of uncles at her disposal and an Auntie Soka.

[giggles-and-freckles]

febuwhump day 7: poisoning

//tw: some more mature themes in this one. implications of intended noncon (via date-rape drug) (doesn’t actually happen but tw just in case)//

“General Skywalker,” Rex’s voice patched through. “Come in, sir. Come in!” Clipped and urgent.

“This is Skywalker,” Anakin replied, glancing at the men around him quickly with a questioning eyebrow. Fives shrugged.

Anakin had been waiting with a handful of clones outside the bar while Rex and Ahsoka went in for a quick round of recon. They’d had a pretty good tip that this was the place. But fifteen soldiers of the GAR busting into any establishment didn’t go unnoticed, so it was best to be sure.

“You better get in here, sir–”

“Rex, the plan is–”

“It’s the Commander. She’s–sir, she’s…”

“On my way.” Anakin motioned for the rest of the men to stay behind as he sprinted toward the bar. He busted through the door, his lightsaber already ignited and at the ready.

“Hey! You can’t come in here with that!” the bartender shouted.

“You gonna stop me?” Anakin growled, before scanning the room.

He easily found Rex kneeling on the ground in a corner, his back to Anakin. As the Jedi approached, the Captain looked up and over his shoulder, fear etched into his face.

Anakin’s throat went dry as soon as he got close enough to Rex to see what he was hovering over.

“She–it’s poison, sir. In her drink.”

Anakin turned on Rex in a flash. “Why did she have a dr–”

“Someone gave it to her! I–I was talking to the manager over there and...by the time I saw her with the glass, I–sir, I tried, but it was too late and–”

“Relax, Rex,” Anakin said, even though he felt anything but. His anger toward Rex was misguided and he knew it. He held up an apologetic hand. “We need to get her out of here. Now.”

Ahsoka laid across the floor, one arm bent at an awkward angle beneath her. Her purpling lips stood out in stark contrast to her abnormally pale skin. Carefully, Anakin lifted an arm under her head and knees, bringing her close to his chest.

He turned to Rex, his eyes dark. “Do you know who did it?”

“Yes, sir, but he’s gone. I would have gone after him but–I didn’t want to leave her and…”

“You did the right thing,” he said, looking down at the girl in her arms. Had she always been so small? “But there’s been a change of plans.”

“Sir?”

“Forget the mission. Round up the boys and…” Anakin swallowed against the anger in his own chest. “Find him.”

Rex’s jaw set. “Yes, sir.”

“And here,” Anakin tossed Rex his lightsaber, careful not to jostle Ahsoka too much. “Clear us a path.”

“General, I can’t–”

“Go.”

Rex nodded shortly and ignited the saber with timidity. He rolled it in his hand, once, twice, before looking at Anakin for reassurance. At the Jedi’s nod, Rex’s gaze fell back toward the unconscious girl in his arms and his face hardened. He walked ahead of Anakin toward the door, the lightsaber held directly in front of him.

The various people and creatures in the bar shifted away, leaving a clear path toward the door. “Stay back,” Anakin snarled. “If anyone touches me or my Padawan, we’ll kill you.”

Rex’s gait faltered a bit at that, but Anakin wasn’t interested in his Captain’s warnings of caution. He wanted someone to try and mess with him. He’d relish the excuse, the permission, to do what he’d been wanting to do since he got here tonight.

…

The ship was ready to head back to Coruscant to get Ahsoka the complete care she needed, but Anakin waited at the bottom of the ramp, his arms folded across his chest, heart thumping wildly. 

It didn’t take long for the 501st to track the man down. Fives and Jesse threw him to the dirt in front of Anakin.

Anakin ignited the saber Rex had been in too much of a hurry to give back to him and held it toward the drunk Trandoshan’s neck. He sputtered and inched as far back as Jesse’s armoured knees would let him.

“Wha’ the hell’s goin’ on?”

“You...poisoned...my...Padawan.”

“Wha’s a Pana–a Pada–”

Jesse shoved him quiet with a swift kick.

“She’s on that ship with tubes coming out of her as my medic pulls chemicals from her bloodstream. I want to know why.” He pressed the lightsaber a little closer to the Trandoshan’s neck, thankful Obi-Wan wasn’t here to watch his interrogation techniques for this particular instance.

“Jus’ a–jus’ a joke!!”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Was only hoping for...for fun.”

“Fun?” Anakin bit off. He’d dealt with scum like this before–he knew what ‘fun’ was code for. “She’s a child, you fucking monster.”

The man released a bark of laughter and winked. “Doesn’t look like one.”

Thankfully, Jesse beat Anakin to the punch and stepped on the man’s ankle, eliciting cries of pain that almost satiated Anakin’s desire to derive them himself. He waited for the man to stop writhing in pain before he dropped his face even with the drunk’s.

“You’re lucky my medic told me she’s going to be okay,” he said, dangerously low. “Because if she wasn’t, I’d personally see to it that you die as slowly and painfully as you deserve.”

The man struggled to swallow.

“But since she got lucky, so are you,” Anakin spat. “Here’s my offer–you come with us and spend the next few years rotting in prison with the other scum of the galaxy. Or I can personally ensure you never have an incident like this again by altering some critical aspects of your anatomy right here and now.”

“You’re–” The man arched away from the lightsaber, sucking in a hysterical breath. “You’re insane.”

“You’re fucking right,” Anakin growled, flipping off his saber and hooking it back on his belt. Before he turned back to the ship and directed the men to fully apprehend the Trandoshan and bring him on board, he made a split second decision. He’d have to convince Rex to leave it out of the report later...and skip over it in his recounting to Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. But it was worth it.

Anakin pulled his mechno-arm back and pounded soundly into the man’s jaw, smiling at the satisfying crack that echoed around the clearing.

febuwhump 2021 prompt list

[eyayah-oya]

Carry You With Me Always

Buckle up everyone, because I have three prompts today!

Cloneship Week 2021 - Tattoos - @cloneshipweek

Rex/Echo

Rating: G

Warnings: very vague references to something bad happening to Tup and Dogma in the past

Ao3 link--Ao3 has some world building notes about Tup, Dogma, and Mom Echo if you want to check those out!

           Lazy days were Echo’s favorite.  They always had been.  Especially the days when Rex didn’t have to be a commander masquerading as a captain.  (Echo still didn’t understand how hard it was to sign off on a promotion for Rex. Skywalker knew how to sign his own name.)  It was the third day of leave on Coruscant, just when the duties required of the commanding officers tapered off to allow them time off just like their men.

           Rex entered the officer barracks with two cups of caf and a datapad tucked under his arm.  He must have recently taken a water shower, as he looked cleaner than the sonics were able to achieve.  For a moment, Echo mourned the opportunity to shower with Rex but they figured there would be plenty of opportunities in the future.

           “Morning,” Echo called, their voice deep and raspy from sleep.

           He looked up, though Echo noted he didn’t actual startle. Rex only got that jumpy when he hadn’t been sleeping, so he at least got some rest since the 501st arrived on Coruscant.  That was good.  Echo had been worried when Rex hadn’t shown up the past two nights to the bunk they shared when not on the Resolute.

           A warm smile, reserved just for Echo, softened Rex’s face and filled Echo with happiness.  “Morning, Echo,” he responded.  With ease, he set the two caf cups down on his desk without spilling a drop, the datapad following immediately after.  Then, with slumped shoulders and tired eyes, he fell onto the bed beside Echo and nuzzled their shoulder.

           “Meetings go badly?” they mused as ran their fingers across the closely cropped blonde hair.

           “Eh, not too bad.  Just long.  General Mundi preached about the value of life again and Gree got into an argument with General Fisto over some obscure plant the 41st found on their last campaign.  I think if they’d been in the same room, it would have become a physical fight.”

           Echo snorted.  “That would definitely be interesting to watch.  What did General Unduli do?”

           “I’m 90% sure she was either sleeping standing up, or talking to General Kenobi telepathically.  Kenobi kept snickering every once in a while, so I wouldn’t put it past them.”  Rex shook his head as best as he could from where his face was smooshed against Echo’s shoulder.  “Anything big happen with the boys?”

           “Denal and Attie got arrested again.  I’m pretty sure they’re trying to court the intake officer in the Corrie’s brig.  I escorted Dogma and Tup around the city the first day and ended up taking them to Tatta. You know, the vod who gives the best tattoos?”

           Rex hummed in acknowledgment.  “Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure, but I’ve heard he’s one of the best on Coruscant.  Did Tup and Dogma end up getting any tattoos?”

           “Tup got a little tear below his eye and Dogma got a really cool one over his face.  Kix is gonna have a conniption when he sees that; you know how he is with large facial tattoos,” Echo said with amusement.  “Dogma struggled a bit at first, but Tup talked him through his anxiety and held his hand.”

           “That’s good.  I’ll make sure to pair them up on campaigns.  Aren’t they twins?”

           Echo nodded.  While not numerous, there were several sets of twins in the GAR.  Commanders Thire and Thorn in the Corrie Guard, Kix and Captain Keeli, Tup and Dogma, Lupis and Canis in the Wolfpack, and of course Echo and their twin Fives. Commanding officers tried to keep twins together as much as possible, though it doesn’t always happen, like with Kix and Keeli.

           “You could have warned me they were former Corries,” Echo grumbled.  “Technically I was escorting them, but it was mostly them dragging me all over the city. Although, they did take me to this diner with the most amazing nerf burgers.  I’ll have to take you sometime.  They’re sweet kids, but they also could use a lot more support than the average vod. Something happened to them when they were with the Guard.”

           Rex sighed.  “I know. Fox briefed me on their situation. I won’t tell you what happened exactly—they should do that themselves—but it was bad.  We’ll take care of them, I promise.”

           “Good.”  Echo nodded once and wrapped their left arm around Rex’s shoulder and pulled him in closer. Rex flung his own arm back over Echo. Immediately they hissed as their right pec flared with a stinging pain.

           Immediately, Rex sat up in concern.  “Echo?  What’s wrong?”

           Echo grinned sheepishly.  “Well, Tup and Dogma were really nervous to get tattoos since the Guard isn’t allowed to have tattoos.  And I might have gotten a tattoo to help them be more comfortable.”

           “Really?” Rex grinned.  Without hesitation, he gently placed his hand over Echo’s pec, exactly in the same spot he had left a handprint on their first set of armor. He didn’t have to guess what tattoo they had decided to get.  Echo arched into the touch, the sting sharp and pointed and somehow exactly perfect.  “Can I see it?” Rex asked softly.

           “Help me get the shirt off, and yes,” Echo answered. They surged upwards, ignoring the pain from his tattoo, so they could press a heated and soft kiss to Rex’s lips.

With far more reverence than they usually have time for, Rex slid his fingers under the hem of their loose shirt, trailing over the firm muscles and warm skin. Echo shivered deliciously and lightly sucked on his lower lip, rather than help their boyfriend in any way. Inch by inch, more skin was revealed until Rex pulled away to tug the shirt over Echo’s head.  They helped, lifting their arms over their head to allow the shirt to slide free.

           In the exact same placement as their armor, a handprint had been tattooed completely in a darker blue than they used for their armor. The dark blue color the Rishi eel’s blood had been.  The permanent mark on their skin was a bold proclamation of who Echo belonged to.  A way to inform everyone who they went home to and who they would always go back for.  That day on Rishi was life-changing for both of them for more than one reason. It was the day Echo had lost their batchmates, save for Fives, and the day they had both joined the 501st. It was the day Echo had first met Rex, a young shiny who was in awe of the legendary captain.  And it was the day that began Echo’s journey of falling completely in love with the man behind the legend.

           Rex traced the edges of the tattoo gently, barely ghosting over the skin.  It was still swollen and red from the needle, but that would go away in a couple more days. Echo didn’t mind a little bit of pain if it meant they could wear Rex’s mark in his skin as well as their armor.

           “Do you like it?” they asked cheekily, already knowing the answer.

           “I love it.  They did a really good job.  Does it hurt a lot?” Rex asked.

           Echo wobbled his head from side to side.  “A little, but it’s not bad.  Barely noticeable, really.”

           “Good.”  And with that, Rex pressed his hand against the mark and pushed Echo back onto the bed until he was leaning directly over them.  “Because I need to show you exactly how much I like it.”

           They eagerly reached up and wrapped their arms around Rex’s neck, pulling him down against them, though they both were careful not to dislodge his hand from its place on Echo’s chest.  Echo pressed their forehead against Rex’s, letting them bask in the peaceful moment instead of the hurried seconds they only managed to snatch while out on the front.  Eventually, the keldabe shifted to the more traditional type of kissing, their tongues tangling together languidly.  They had all day and the rest of the tenday to relax and enjoy.  They could take their time, and Echo couldn’t be happier.

           “I love you,” they whispered between kisses.

           “I love you, my eyayah.  My Echo with my mark,” Rex answered before diving back into their mouth and showing them exactly how much he needed and loved them.

           Echo shivered with delight, the intimacy of the moment barricading everything else from the Captain’s quarters.  For a time, they existed in a bubble, cut off from the galaxy and perfectly at peace together.

           Then, the bubble popped.

           “Does the Captain really have to know?  I mean, it’s not like he’d be surprised.”

           “Fives, don’t be an idiot.  You know he always needs to know when we brawl with the Wolfpack so he can keep Commander Wolffe from killing us.”

           “But if we go in there, Echo will kill us.”

           “I’d rather die by Echo’s hand than by Commander Wolffe’s! He’s scary!”

           “Oh, lighten up, Jesse!  I wouldn’t mind fighting with the Commander!”

           “ . . . Hardcase . . . “

           “What?  It’s true!”

           “I’m gonna tell him!”

           “Fives, don’t you dare!”

           With matching, heavy sighs, Echo and Rex broke apart and turned to the door.  Yes, Echo loved lazy days.  But those days never lasted long, and they loved their brothers just as much.

           “I’ll go deal with Hardcase’s unacknowledged romantic feelings for Commander Wolffe.  You need to get some sleep,” Echo said, giving Rex a soft kiss on the cheek as they grabbed their t-shirt.  “Think I can make Jesse prefer he’d faced the Commander?”

           Rex smirked and flopped down by Echo’s side instead of on top of them.  “I know you will.  I’ll be here when they’re all suitably punished.  Come back and we can finish what we started.”  His eyes were dark with hunger and love, sending a shiver through Echo.  That was a promise they wouldn’t pass up for anything.

           “I’ll be back after I finish wrangling the children.  I’ll probably drag Dogma and Tup along so they can laugh at Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase,” Echo said with a grin.  They pulled their shirt over their head and climbed over Rex to stand up.  “They could use the enrichment.”

           Rex only laughed.  Lazy days really were the best.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Prison Changes a Man

Rex, briefing his men while they wait for Dogma to arrive with the Coruscant Guard escort: Now remember boys, Dogma took the fall on Umbara. You will be nice and welcoming towards him, even if you've still got personal unresolved issues with the whole Krell incident... I don't want to hear about him having trouble re-acclimating with the battalion... Understood Jesse? Jesse, rolling his eyes: Sir yes sir... I won't hurt the little prick's fee-fees... Kix, elbowing him: Jesse, play nice... Jesse: I'm serious, I'll behave. I can be patient with him until he's ready to own up to what he did wrong. And don't cover for him, he made some pretty big mistakes back there and I won't rest until I know we won't have a repeat. Fives, tapping his foot anxiously: Man, I can't believe it's been three months already... Appo: I can't believe the Jedi got his sentence reduced to just three months. Tup: I just hope it wasn't too bad... I hear prison changes a person... Fives: Dogma and change don't seem like concepts that mix together vod'ika. I'm sure he'll be his usual meticulous, over-analytical and pragmatic self just as we remember him... Rex, shushing them and pointing towards a few guardsmen escorting an armoured hovercar: Look, there's Fox and his men coming... Fox, comes out of the hovercar with Dogma in tow: Here's the kid, Rex. Don't let me catch him or any of your men anywhere near the drunk tank on my next shift... Dogma, wearing a leather jacket, a tank top, cargo pants, leather boots, sunglasses and sporting several piercings and new tattoos: 'Sup Stiffs? How's shit? Rex, Jesse, Kix, Appo, Fives and Tup, all stunned by Dogma's new look and rude greeting: Fox: Yeah, your problem now. -gets back into the hovercar and drives off, his men following behind- Dogma: .... I'm starving. I'm hitting Dex's and then going to 79's because there's no way I'm eating any of the crap the GAR's feeding you Bucketheads. Ciao bitches. -walks off and heckles a passerby- Rex, Jesse, Kix, Appo, Fives and Tup, watching him walk off unsure what the hell just happened: Fives: .... Remind me never to go to prison...

[hrtiu]

Chaotic Good

“This for the 501st,” Hardcase said, solemn for once in his brief existence. “Don’t wait for me.” 

“Hardcase! No!” Fives yelled.

Hardcase pulled his ship’s detached missile pod towards a maintenance shaft to the side of the ray shield, turning around for one last look before crossing the point of no return.

“You’ve disobeyed enough orders today, sir. Follow this one, get out of here!” he said, waving Jesse and Fives away.

He dragged the missile pod to the other side of the ray shield, running as fast as the awkwardly-sized pod would allow. He threw the floating pod into the energy core, and the pod made its way with sluggish but unstoppable force towards the highly-flammable containers. Job done, Hardcase turned around to his no-longer visible brothers.

“Live to fight another day, boys,” he said. “Live to fight another day.”

The world exploded in an angry ball of fire and heat around him .

---

Hardcase opened his eyes and immediately knew he wasn’t dead. He knew this because, though he wasn’t sure what the afterlife might bring, he was pretty sure it didn’t involve being pinned beneath a durasteel beam in the wreckage of a Separist supply ship.

He pushed vainly against the massive beam, his well-toned arms useless in the face of its weight, then collapsed backwards, letting his eyes rest.

An ominous groan emanated from somewhere above and Hardcase’s eyes flew open, looking up just in time to see the support strut ten meters over his head give way with a massive crack. It was just Hardcase’s luck to miraculously survive a spaceship crash only to die ten seconds later. He shouted uselessly, raising his hands in front of his face as if that would do anything. And then-

And then...nothing. Nothing happened.

That’s strange. Maybe this is the afterlife, Hardcase thought. He cautiously opened his eyes, and the support strut was only a meter from his face, floating in the thick Umbaran air.

Eyes widening, Hardcase looked at his hands, still outstretched towards the beam. Slowly, carefully, he moved his arms to the side. The beam floated off to Hardcase’s right, following his arms like an omnibox player might a bandleader. Once it was well clear of him, he let his arms drop. The strut immediately fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.

Huh, Hardcase thought. That’s new.

AO3 link.

---

Getting out of the crashed ship was significantly easier after Hardcase discovered he could move objects with his mind. ...Or his hands? Or his soul? Honestly, the mechanics of it weren’t very clear to him, but the point was he could suddenly lift the durasteel flotsam and jetsam blocking his way.

Hardcase hopped down from the busted-out wall of the Separatist ship, his boots crunching on the rocky earth below him. He could hardly see anything, but at least he could breathe. The Separatist ship had been so eerily empty and quiet, a graveyard that had never housed living beings even before its catastrophic crash. 

The misty darkness swirled around him, with only a few distant bioluminescent plants visible in the distance. Hardcase had absolutely no idea where he was.

Luck had been on his side when he’d found his helmet lying in a pile of scrap metal not too far from his initial landing site, but luck had its limits. Hardcase shoved the helmet on his head, testing the comms once again just in case something about the innards of the melted ship had interfered with his signal, but still no luck. He was on his own.

He picked a direction at random and started walking, careful not to step on any carnivorous plants. As he made his way through the endless haze, every so often he would take a turn in a different direction. He couldn’t articulate any particular reason for it, but it felt right, and Hardcase had always trusted his gut. 

As he walked he practiced pushing and pulling things. He knew that Jedi had other powers besides just that, but it wasn’t really clear to him what they were. He did know he was Jedi, though. Only the Jedi could manipulate the Force, and Hardcase knew that was what he was doing. There was no other explanation.

The exploration of his newfound abilities absorbed nearly all of Hardcase’s attention, and he found himself losing track of time. It was fascinating, figuring out how to push versus pull, how to adjust the power behind his movements, and what his maximum range was. He couldn’t say exactly what he was doing was. He just sort of thought, and it happened. Or maybe willed was more accurate? He didn’t know, but after hours of undivided attention, he felt like he was getting the hang of it. His laser-focused attention span helped with that. Hardcase couldn’t always control what caught his attention, but once it was caught it stayed caught.

The distant boom of mortar fire jolted Hardcase from his near-trance, and he looked up. A tall, inorganic cliff of duracrete became visible through the fog. It was the airbase. Hardcase had no idea if he’d been walking hours or days, but he was relieved to see the base he hoped the GAR still held.

“Thank the Force I landed so close to the boys,” Hardcase said to no one in particular.

He started off in the direction of the airbase, watching for enemy combatants as he scrambled across a narrow outcrop towards the shining beacon of the airbase. Then, he stopped. His feet were pulling him in a different direction. Or maybe not his feet? Maybe his stomach. Regardless, something wouldn’t let him keep going along the outcrop, so he followed his instincts and climbed down the ridge, heading towards a narrow gorge off to the side.

The gorge opened up onto a clearing of sorts, and Hardcase instantly recognized the innocent-looking pods dotting the landscape. It was those creatures—those many-toothed plants that too many unwitting clones had stumbled onto to their doom.

He turned around to find another way, but the tugging at his feet became more insistent. This way, that something urged him. This way.

Narrowing his eyes, Hardcase turned back around and took a cautious step towards the field of man-eating plants, his arms held up daintily as if letting them swing might alert the creatures to his presence. He took another step. Then another. Then another. Soon, he was only a few meters away from the first creature. The mysterious urging stopped.

“Well…” Hardcase whispered into the ether. “I’m here. Now what?”

The pod closest to him burst open, its long tentacles flailing wildly and its sharp-toothed mouth opening and snapping shut. Hardcase dove away, rolling across the dusty earth to create as much distance between him and the murderous plant as possible. A tentacle grabbed onto his leg, but he reached out with the Force and threw the tentacle off of him. He scrambled further away, heart racing and head pounding with adrenaline, and then he was out of reach.

The tentacles reached blindly towards him in the dark, but they couldn’t quite close the distance. Hardcase caught his breath, pulling in huge gasps of breath for his greedy lungs. 

“What,” he said through gasps of air, “the kriff am I doing here?”

The plant only flailed in response, and Hardcase threw it a rude gesture for good measure. Then the plant’s tentacle retracted and it let out a hearty belch, throwing something small and shiny from its mouth before pulling back into its pod. The unidentified object sailed through the air, then landed at Hardcase’s feet.

Leaning forward on his knees, Hardcase picked it up. It was a lightsaber—or rather half of one. It looked like one of those double-sided lighsabers, but it had been ripped in half. Hardcase was pretty sure it was General Krell’s lightsaber. Hardcase looked around him, only now noticing the singes of blaster fire and the chipped bits of plastoid—telltale signs of a fight.

“What happened here…” he said, eyes falling back to the lightsaber.

One end of the hilt ended in a mess of exposed wires and torn metal, but something about the lightsaber felt right in his hand. With a sudden certainty, Hardcase knew it was the lightsaber that had called him here. He ignited the lightsaber and a blue beam of light extended from the hilt with a whoosh. It was beautiful. And it was right.

A slow smile crept up Hardcase’s face, he switched off the ‘saber and got to his feet, holding the it confidently off to the side. He turned his face back to the airbase, ready to go home.

---

“Hardcase! You’re alive!” Fives charged towards Hardcase, grinning like a fool.

“Yeah,” Hardcase said, barely managing to get the words out as Fives pulled him into a tight hug and squeezed the breath out of him. “I survived the crash landing.”

Jesse joined them, hot on Fives’ heals. “The Force is really on your side, brother. We thought we wouldn’t see you again.”

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” Hardcase said with a smirk. He extricated himself from Fives’ arms and unhooked his newfound lightsaber from his belt, igniting it and letting its blue glow wash over his speechless brothers’ faces.

Fives was the first to pick his jaw up off the ground. “Hardcase… Where did you…?”

“That’s not even the good part. Look!”

Hardcase held a hand out in front of him and lifted Fives off the ground. Nothing too drastic—only a meter or two.

“Well karking hell,” Jesse whispered.

Fives’ smirk turned into a beaming smile. “Tell me about it.”

---

A ring of low, opulent chairs circled Hardcase, boxing him in like a squad of clankers coming in on both flanks. General Yoda stared at him from his rounded, plush seat, his clawed fingers clicking as he drummed them against the top of his staff.

“Trooper Hardcase. What brings you before the Jedi Council today?” General Yoda said.

“Well, General, err, Master Yoda,” Hardcase quickly corrected. “I’d like to join the Jedi Order.”

Master Yoda’s eyebrows rose and another member—Ki-Adi-Mundi, Hardcase thought—choked.

“Join the Jedi Order, say you?” Master Yoda said.

“Well, yes. I am a Jedi, after all.”

“Hardcase,” Master Windu said, leaning forward across his knees. “You understand that a person must be Force sensitive to become a Jedi, correct?”

“Yeah. I got that part,” Hardcase said, reaching a hand out and floating his helmet from where he held it at his hip to the center of the room, then pulling it back to him.

They’d all heard his claims before he’d arrived, and still every member of the Council, without exception, wore those stupid faces of shock at the sight. Hardcase almost laughed. Who’d have imagined the all-powerful Jedi could be caught off guard like that?

“Even so,” Master Windu said, the first to regain his composure, “Jedi are trained from infancy to join the Order. It’s not something you can just wake up one day and decide you want to do.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Master Windu. The lightsaber thought I was enough of a Jedi to call to me.”

The clicking of Yoda’s fingers against his staff stopped. “Call to you, it did?”

Hardcase unclipped the lightsaber from his hip and ignited it, a smile rising to his lips as its familiar glow illuminated his face. “Yeah. It spoke to me.”

“What did it say?” Master Windu said.

“I mean, it wasn’t exactly talking. It was more of a feeling. Like, ‘Hey, you! Come over here! Pick me!’”

“Huh.” Master Windu said, and Hardcase couldn’t help but be tickled to see the unflappable Jedi stymied.

“Master Windu, untrained Hardcase may be, but some skill he already has. Afford to let this opportunity go, we cannot. Wills it, the Force does.”

The other Council members murmured amongst themselves, and Hardcase caught a few nods of assent.

“Well who’s going to train him, then?”

Master Yoda smiled. “Master Windu, a Padawan, you have not.”

Master Windu’s face fell, and he looked to Hardcase with a raised eyebrow.

“It’d be an honor, sir,” Hardcase said.

---

Hardcase followed Master Windu as he strode purposefully into Chancellor Palpatine’s office. Windu hadn’t invited Hardcase along as such, but Hardcase was his Padawan. What else was he supposed to do?

Masters Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin were there, too, each of them wearing their serious, “Jedi business” faces. And this was serious business. It wasn’t every day you went to arrest the Chancellor of the Republic for potentially being a Sith lord.

They entered the office and the Chancellor’s chair twirled around, revealing the Chancellor’s too-mild face and too-soft smile.

“Master Windu! I take it General Grievous has been destroyed, then. I must say you’re here sooner than expected.”

Master Windu drew his lightsaber. “In the name of the Galactic Senate, you are under arrest, Chancellor.”

Hardcase and the others drew their lightsabers as well, the blue and green light reflecting off of the Chancellor’s massive window.

“Are you threatening me, Master-?”

Hardcase lunged for Palpatine, stabbing him right through the gut. The Chancellor gasped, his eyes going wide in shock, but not pain. Hardcase imagined he couldn’t really feel anything at that point. He knew from experience the funny way shock could mask agony.

“Wh-what?” the malicious old man croaked, his hand fumbling at his waist.

“Hardcase! What have you done?” Windu said.

Palpatine grabbed a lightsaber hidden under his robes, igniting its red beam and stabbing weakly in Hardcase’s direction. Hardcase easily deflected the blow.

“Your reign is over, Sith,” he spat.

Palpatine looked up at Hardcase with hate in his eyes, the irises turning yellow as his strength failed. “A dirty clone thinks he can best me?”

Hardcase grabbed the Chancellor’s lightsaber by the hilt and tossed it away. He crouched down and got right in Palpatine’s face, looking him hard in the eye. “Oh, I think I just did, sir.”

Palpatine gasped out one final breath, then slumped to the ground. Master Windu rushed to his side, checking his neck for a pulse with two fingers. 

“He’s dead,” he said, looking up at Hardcase with a furrowed brow. “Why did you do that? He was supposed to stand trial.”

Hardcase held his lightsaber up, the pulsing energy from the crystal hidden inside vibrating with reassurance. “He was going to kill us, Master. I could feel it.”

“We can’t just tell the Senate we killed the Chancellor on a hunch.”

Hardcase met his Master’s gaze, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll bear responsibility for my actions. But I knew I had to stop him. He had that feeling—the same one that Krell had. I think that’s why his lightsaber called to me. To make things right.”

Master Fisto walked to the far side of the room and picked up the Sith lightsaber. He ignited it and admired the sanguine blade with a morbid sort of fascination. “Well, he certainly was a Sith. That might make our case easier to make to the Senate.”

“Come,” Master Windu said, getting to his feet. “We need to inform the Council and the Senate.”

Hardcase followed after him without an ounce of doubt in his being. He knew he might be imprisoned or even executed for this, but it was right. Chancellor Palpatine had been playing the Republic and the Separatists against each other this entire time, and his brothers had paid the price. He would be proud to sacrifice himself to stop it. He closed his eyes. Live to fight another day.

---

In the end, Hardcase had Padme Amidala to thank for his freedom. He’s a clone, ordered and programmed to be unquestioningly loyal to the Jedi and the Republic, she’d argued. He deemed, correctly, that Chancellor Palpatine posed an existential threat to the Republic, and he acted per his training, she’d said. All the evidence collected after the fact of Palpatine’s double-dealing and manipulations hadn’t hurt, either. When the true depth of Palpatine’s machinations had been revealed, it had been clear that the man could weasel his way out of any situation if given half a minute to talk.

Senator Amidala’s compelling arguments had also forced the Senate to grapple with the questionable morals of the clones’ training and conscription, an outcome that made Hardcase even happier than his own acquittal. Things were moving much more slowly than he would like, but they were moving. One day, he wouldn’t be the only clone free to move about as he chose.

These thoughts buoyed Hardcase’s steps as he made his way into the Jedi Council chambers, his knees bouncing when he came to a halt in the ornate circle at the center of the room.

“Padawan Hardcase, proposed, it has been, that you be elevated to Knighthood in the Jedi Order,” Master Yoda said.

Master Windu got to his feet and ignited his purple lightsaber. “Kneel.”

Hardcase obediently bowed before Master Windu, closing his eyes and thinking of his brothers as he let the reality of his situation sink in.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force. Hardcase. Rise, Jedi Knight.”

The whirr of Master Windu’s lightsabers sang across Hardcase’s ears, and his chest swelled with pride. Pride in himself, pride in the GAR, pride in his brothers. He got to his feet, head held high.

“Congratulations, Knight Hardcase.”

Hardcase beamed, shoving Master Windu affectionately in the arm. “Thank you! Er, thank you, Master.”

Master Windu rubbed his arm with that annoyed expression on his face, but he gave Hardcase a long-suffering smile.

“I’d like to go see my brothers to celebrate,” Hardcase said.

“Go,” Master Windu said, shooing him away. “Before you break anything.”

“Thank you, Master!”

He dashed off down the hall, so eager to rub his promotion in Jesse’s face that he missed the looks Master Yoda and Master Windu exchanged as he left.

---

“Wrong we were, I think,” Master Yoda said.

“About what? Unfortunately I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”

“The Chosen One, Skywalker never was.”

Master Windu’s gaze followed his overeager apprentice as he clattered through the tranquil halls of the Jedi Temple. He thought of Ponds’ steady presence at his side for so many long campaigns. He thought of the courage in Ponds’ eyes in the face of death. He thought of the thousands of shiny troopers who’d marched into battle with only thoughts of the Republic and each other pushing them forward.

“I think you may be right. I think there may have been many.”

[meridiansdominoes]

How To Scrap Battledroids

(I have decided to make this its own post entirely, so here it is! Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424678)

Prompt:  Anakin and The Boys make a skillshare about how to scrap battledroids but about halfway through Tup makes a hair routine class, then other troopers post their hobbies and basically thats how they win the public over to support the clones

______________________________________________________________

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first instalment of ‘Reasons Why the 501st is the Best Battalion in the GAR’, subtitled ‘How To Scrap Battledroids’, sponsored by the Hero With No Fear himself, General Anakin Skywalker!”

General Skywalker steps into frame with a cocky smirk. The camera trails from his face down his arm to where he’s holding his lightsaber with a sure grip. 

“Today we’ll be demonstrating some of the most effective ways to absolutely demolish the B1 battle droid,” the narrator continues. The camera turns slowly, revealing several clones all around the Jedi, armed to the teeth and waiting. “The B1 battle droid, also referred to as a standard battle droid or a clanker, is the most widely used battle droid manufactured by Baktoid Combat Automata and Baktoid Armor Workshop. They’re the successor to the OOM-series battle droids. Early versions of the model required the use of a—”

“Holy kriff no one cares, Echo!” one of the clones says loudly. The narrator lets out an offended huff. The camera jerks and spins so that General Skywalker comes back into frame. The Jedi looks amused.

“Some of our viewers might appreciate a little background, Fives, shut up!”

“Force, can we get to it already? All this waiting around is driving me crazy!”

“Hardcase, calm down, exposition is important—”

“So is getting my weekly dose of adrenaline, Jesse—!”

“Okay, alright,” another clone soothes. “General, we’re waiting for your signal.”

“Thank you, Tup,” General Skywalker says, and ignites his lightsaber. “For that, I think you deserve the honor of going first.” This spurs a cacophony of groans from the others, but Tup makes a delighted sound. “Alright, on my signal. Echo, you’re in charge of making sure it all gets on camera, understand?”

“Yessir,” Echo says smartly. He pivots so that the entire group is visible—one Jedi and four clones, tense and waiting behind some sort of structure. 

“Alright, let’s go!” General Skywalker shouts, and they charge around the corner and take the platoon of battle droids that had been approaching by complete surprise. 

It’s possibly the most unfair fight the GAR has ever seen. It’s impossible for Echo to keep up with all the action. Hardcase’s Z-6 whines as it tears the droids apart. Tup and Jesse are dodging enemy blaster bolts and returning fire with fluid ease. General Skywalker is a storm of blue light and sparking clanker parts. At one point the Jedi reaches out his hand and sends Fives and Tup flying through the air with the Force so that they can attack from above. 

The fight is over in less than two minutes. It had been pure chaos, and utter destruction. The clones regroup around Echo, riled up and excited as General Skywalker comes within earshot of the camera again.

“And that,” General Skywalker says, sheathing his lightsaber with a flourish, “is how to take down a battle droid, 501st style. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

______________________________________________________________

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ve constantly been wondering, “Boy, who could possibly be better than those 501st imbeciles that showed up on the holonet a few weeks ago?” like I have recently, look no further! What takes six of the 501st’s best only takes two of the 212th!” 

“Boil, less talking, more not-dying!” someone shouts, and there’s a large explosion. The camera shakes uncontrollably for a moment, and then suddenly it steadies, half of the camera obscured by the rock that the cameraman is crouched behind. Regardless, General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody are visible, back to back in the middle of a courtyard absolutely swarming with droids. 

“Kenobi deflects blasterbolts from every side, and oh there’s the Commander, headshots, every one of ‘em, look at the way they kriffin’ move! So in-sync, they turn together, no hesitation at all—!”

“Boil, quit the commentary and get down!”

There’s another explosion. Boil lets out a grunt of annoyance. The camera whirls. 

“Come on, I’m missing the best part!” There’s a flash of orange and white, and then Boil gets the camera back up. The droids are attempting to close in on the two combatants, but General Kenobi slashes and whirls with ethereal grace. Commander Cody lashes out with powerful kicks that shatter the droids at the joints. They’re absolutely surrounded by sparking droid parts, untouched in their little circle of safety. When there are only a few droids left, General Kenobi slashes his last opponent cleanly in half before tossing his lightsaber oh-so-casually to Commander Cody The Commander catches it out of midair without even glancing at it and beheads the very last droid with a lazy flick of his wrist. 

Boil whistles, long and low. He’s not the only one. 

“And that’s how to destroy a battle droid, 212th style,” Boil whispers gleefully as General Kenobi and Commander Cody motion for their troops to advance. “And it really doesn’t get any better than that. Suck it, 501st!”

______________________________________________________________

Captain Rex looks extremely annoyed. 

“Since the 212th really seems to think the galaxy of themselves, this is Captain Rex of the 501st, and I’m here to show you all what it really means to destroy a battle droid.”

Behind the camera, someone giggles. Commander Tano’s hand appears in the frame as she gives him a thumbs up. He shoves his helmet on and draws both DC-17s, checking them over briefly before stepping out of cover directly in front of the platoon of battle droids, determined and completely alone. He charges, pistols already releasing a steady hailfire at his opponents. 

The battle droids don’t even stand a chance. They scream and cower and attempt to escape, but it doesn’t do them any good. Commander Tano laughs so hard that the camera shakes in her hand. 

______________________________________________________________

“You know, I think that normal B1 battle droids are getting pretty old,” Commander Cody says, smirking at the camera—there’s something a bit dangerous in the expression, almost predatory. Daring their next challenger to try and top them. “So this time we’re upping our game. Super Battle Droids aren’t nearly as easy to take down as B1s, which means we have to get a bit creative.”

By ‘get creative’, Commander Cody means ‘use lots of explosives’. It’s very impressive.

______________________________________________________________

“Oh kriffing—are you serious, General?” Commander Bly makes an unamused face at the camera.

“Of course, Commander. We can’t let the 501st and the 212th have all the fun, can we?” General Secura says in amusement, the tip of one blue lek sliding into frame for an instant. “Besides, we’ve got something much better than battle droids to destroy today, don’t we?”

Bly snorts.

“The Armored Assault Tank does take a significantly larger amount of effort than any battle droid can. So are we skipping droidekas, then? I don’t think anyone’s done them yet. They seem like a more logical next step up from SBDs to me.”

“Someone else can do that,” another clone chimes in, sounding a bit excited. “Go big or go home, right General?”

“Very good,” General Secura praises. She sounds pleased. “Trooper, please explain the weak spots of the tank to our audience as Commander Bly and I take care of those two on the ridge. It shouldn’t take us long. It’s a bit far—you might have to zoom in, but it should still be plenty visible.”

“Yes sir,” a trooper agrees happily as she passes him the camera. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m sure this’ll blow the rest of the videos completely out of the water.”

General Secura grins at her Commander. She shrugs one shoulder at him and pulls her lightsaber from her belt as she turns to face the tanks. Bly’s expression softens into something that definitely isn’t meant to be seen by the camera. Then he shoves on his helmet and raises his weapon to stand at her side.

“Alright, General. Lead the way.”

______________________________________________________________

“You know, these videos aren’t just to show people how easy the Seppie droids are to blow up,” Tup says with a shrug. “You can do other stuff too, you know. Dogma, the comb please!”

Dogma dutifully passes him the comb. Tup releases his hair from the bun. It falls down around his face, far nicer than it should considering the amount of time it spends mashed underneath Tup’s bucket. Tup begins to run the comb through his hair, grimacing slightly as he carefully works out knots.

“Alright, everyone is always asking me how I keep my hair so well-maintained with the GAR’s very limited hair products. Today I’m gonna let everyone in on a couple of my most prized secrets…”

______________________________________________________________

“I absolutely will not.”

“But sir,” Comet says (his voice trembles because he’s trying to keep from laughing), “You’re the best at it! The rest of us don’t even come close!” He moves the camera a little closer to Wolffe’s face.

“I don’t give a kriff,” Wolffe deadpans. He goes back to scrolling through his datapad. Comet swipes it from his hand and passes it to Sinker as Wolffe lunges for it, who passes it back to Boost, who tucks it behind his back. Wolffe levels a ferocious glare at them. All three of them cower for a moment until Comet finds his voice again.

“Siiiirrrrr. Sir, please.”

“No.”

“Then you’re not getting your datapad back,” Boost attempts bravely. Wolffe rolls his eye. 

“What’s stopping me from just taking it from you, Sergeant?” he counters. Boost licks his lips nervously.

“I mean, it would still be just as good of a video if you did,” Sinker says, snickering. “How To Discipline your Unruly Sergeant.”

“Just once, sir!” Comet begs, focused on their original goal. “We’ll stop bothering you if you do!”

“For how long?” Wolffe asks gruffly. Comet considers. 

“Until the next deployment, sir?”

Wolffe sighs.

“Fine. But only once.”

He tips his head back and lets out a long, inhuman howl. It’s wild and fierce and absolutely terrifying. It calls warriors to the hunt, triggers something carnal in the blood of the pack. The sound echoes through the room. In the corner of the frame, Sinker bares his teeth in response. The reaction is seemingly instinctive. 

When it finally ends, Wolffe drops his chin and lifts one eyebrow at his audience. 

“Satisfied?” he huffs. Boost passes him back his datapad with a dazed grin.

“Sithspit, sir. That was… better than usual. Trying to… impress someone, maybe?”

“Get out of my office,” Wolffe growls, on the defensive. “Get that camera out of my face, or I’ll have you running laps in the gym until your brains melt out of your skulls.”

“But sir! Now you have to explain how you did it! That’s what these videos are technically for after all!”

Wolffe loses his patience. He lunges. The camera gets swung around until everything is a blur. There’s a flash of grey, a hint of white, a snarl. Comet lets out an embarrassing shriek. The video cuts to black a moment later.

______________________________________________________________

General Windu is weaponless and surrounded, but that doesn’t stop him from utterly decimating every clone that gets within five feet of him. No one can even touch him. He dodges their attacks like he already knows their every move. He probably does. He flows and shifts like water around their attempts to take him down, even when they team up and pull out all the stops. Commander Ponds, hands steady as he films, chuckles mercilessly whenever General Windu successfully tosses someone aside. 

“There’s not really anything to explain here, we just wanted to demonstrate how cool our Jedi is. Mace can take on half the battalion bare handed and he barely even breaks a sweat.”

“Commander, are you actually going to help us or are you just going to sit there and watch us suffer?” a shiny yelps, two seconds before he gets his feet swept out from under him and goes down with a curse. Ponds laughs again. 

“No thanks, kid. I learned the hard way that what you’re trying to do is impossible.”

“Maybe you just never tried hard enough, sir,” Stak grits out, shoving the staggering shiny towards the edge of the mat. He charges Windu head on. It looks foolish until Ponds spots Razor coming in from behind the Jedi. He’s moving as silently as possible. Ponds shifts the camera accordingly so that all three of them are in frame. 

For half a second, it looks like General Windu won’t be able to block both of them.

Well, it appears that way. General Windu ducks low, twists so that he gets right into Stak’s personal space. Stak tries to grab him, but General Windu just uses his momentum to whirl him around and send him crashing into Razor. Their helmets clunk together with a hollow sound. They go down hard.

The onlookers cheer in excitement. General Windu has the smallest of smirks on his face as he settles back into a fighting stance and waits for the rest of the clones to make a move. 

“And that’s why our Jedi is the best,” Ponds says smugly. The next ten minutes of the video is General Windu successfully incapacitating the rest of his challengers. 

(The video is well-received by the general public but poorly received by the rest of the GAR.)

(“Respectfully, the 212th would like to submit this video to demonstrate why General Kenobi is actually the best—”)

(”The entire 91st can go kriff themselves, watch General Skywalker hijack these STAPs  in midair and you’ll know that the 501st obviously has the best Jedi—”)

(“The 327th resents everything that the 91st’s most recent video claimed and declares that Ponds has no kriffing idea what he’s talking about, General Secura is obviously a better choice, here are ten reasons why—”)

(“General Plo Koon can fight in space. I don’t see General Windu doing that, here are the clips from the 104th’s most recent zero-grav drills—”)

______________________________________________________________

When Commander Fox steps into the room, the men have the decency to look sheepish. Fox takes everything in slowly—the camera in Byte’s hand, the way Thorn and Thire are standing together shoulder to shoulder, hiding the failed project behind them, the scattered nuts and bolts all over the floor. The multitool in Stone’s hand. He drags one hand down his face and takes a deep breath. 

“You told me it was an emergency, Thorn.”

“It is an emergency, Fox! Listen, we even brought you caf because we knew you’d be annoyed,” he holds the steaming cup up as he speaks in a desperate attempt to make peace, “and there’s no way we’re going to figure this out ourselves!”

Fox plucks the caf out of Thorn’s hand and sighs again.

“What is it, then?”

“Well…” Thire drawls slowly. Fox narrows his eyes impatiently. 

“What the kriff is so important and difficult that three of my fellow officers couldn’t figure it out on their own?”

“To be fair, sir,” Stone says good-naturedly, “it’s far more difficult than we thought it would be.”

Thire and Thorn step away to reveal… a piece of furniture. A bench, only halfway assembled, innocent looking enough. Fox stares at it blankly for a few moments. Byte zooms in on his face enthusiastically. 

“We were going to demonstrate how to make it, for the video thing that half the GAR seems to be doing right now,” Thorn explains weakly. “But… it’s confusing. There’s even instructions but they don’t really help.”

Fox drains the cup of caf. He squares his shoulders. 

“Force save me. Are you kidding? Give me the kriffing instructions. This is ridiculous.”

(It takes them two more hours to get the bench set up. Fox misses a meeting. Byte edits the final video to include the bulk of the angry tirades and all of the snark. Public relations improve to an all-time high almost overnight.)

______________________________________________________________

(“The clones are not people. They are soldiers created for a single purpose,” some of the Senate attempt to protest. This argument does not last long, mostly because the civilians who have been eagerly following the videos that the clones have been releasing over the course of several months start to riot in protest. 

Padme Amidala and Bail Organa take great pleasure in bringing the videos before the Senate to prove to them that the clones are indeed soldiers but also individuals who laugh and cry and live just as any other citizen of the Republic does.

In the wake of the unshakable evidence and the rioting, there is little the opposition can do to stop the Clone Rights Bill from being passed, and the entire Republic celebrates.)

[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 1

Prompt: Symbolic jewelry

Sub! Tup x Female (AFAB) OC

Hello! Willkommen to the grand opening of me doing Kinktober (even if this post is a few hours late for the actual 1st 😅)! Here is my prompt list derived from Kinktober lists by @ink-and-flame. Their prompt lists are phenomenal, but for the sake of my ADHD I had to whittle it down into a more finite list of interests that I am comfortable writing and know at least a little about it, or else I’ll just get lost in the sauce of prompts! But seriously, go check out their lists, they’re incredibly varied and have something for everyone! 

And now without further ado:

Tags: some drinking, sub male, femdom, nudity, almost pussy eating (working up to it in part 2!), pussy worship, praise kink, worship kink (is that a thing?),  there’s no sex in this fic it’s just the lead up (she is spoicy tho)

Words: 1609

🍑🍑🍑

Under his shirt, the chain and pendant Tup wore brushed cooly against his chest. As unpleasant as the gooseflesh it raised was, the reminder it gave him was anything but. 

From the moment he’d awoke that morning, wrapped in arms as pale as the thin sunlight at that hour, he knew what he wanted and began to get ready. A few kisses pecked around his groggy girlfriend, Aurelie’s, face placated her awakening at his rising and he moved to her dressing table to grab the aforementioned necklace. If she wasn’t interested in playing, it would have been put away the night before in it’s felt case, but this morning he plucked it from it’s customary open place before the mirror. 

Catching the morning bus he felt it leap and jump with the rhythm of the air vehicle as the pilot navigated Coruscant air-traffic. After the war ended and the clones were given their freedom, sentient rights, and a hell of a lot of backpay, there were questions of what was to be done with them. As it turned out, there wasn’t such a mass exodus from the GAR as previously thought there would be, though many opted to retire from combat positions. Tup chose to oversee the supply requisition and organization for the newly formed Search & Rescue Ops, a subsidiary of the Disaster Relief Squadron, helping places around the galaxy affected by natural disasters. It felt meaningful and good, and he could honestly say he didn’t miss having to carry a gun and constantly keep an eye out for clankers.

After a day of approving supply drops, running reports, and the pendant lightly caressing his chest with every slight sway, he was back on the bus home. A man scowled at him from among the crowd; some people would never see the clones as anything more than meat-droids undeserving of even the life they were given, but the pendant mocked that man’s ideas from behind Tup’s shirt. It was a gift of love freely given to him and he was worthy,

When he returned to his apartment Aurelie was still at work, not getting off until late. As he waited for water to boil he straightened up around the place, clearing dust from the nooks it always returned to settle and gathered laundry. When he came to the bed in their room he came to a spot by the bed and stopped, considered, and opened a drawer to reveal a medium sized case which he deposited neatly on Aurelie’s side of the bed. He already had the necklace, it never hurt to be proactive in terms of their play. 

Half an hour later dinner was had and a portion of it was squared away in the fridge with a reminder to reheat it and enjoy and Tup was ready to meet a few of the boys at 79’s. As he changed from his work wear into something light blue and more casual, the afternoon sun caught the silver pendant resting on the tan skin of his breast bone, dying it almost the same shade of pink- before he could finish that thought a beep from his comm sounded informing him that his taxi had arrived outside.

20 minutes, a few levels down, and a familiar neon sign later, Tup was walking into a familiar bar. Nothing had changed about the place, only now armour and dress greys were a rare sight to be seen as the open opportunity for individuality to flourish among the clones led to some, interesting, experiments in style. ‘Speaking of which,’ thought Tup as a discordant but jovial chorus of his name called him over to a table in the corner. Fives, Jesse, Kix, Rex, Waxer, Boil, Cody, and even Wolffe, to his surprise, sat there having already gotten a small headstart on happy hour. It wasn’t a full reunion, others still at work or spread across the galaxy exploring life, but it was always nice to see familiar faces.

They took their time and paced themselves drinking, it was still early and they didn’t have to run off in an hour to prepare for a campaign and weren’t shotgunning a train of shots to try and forget one. Some of them had to be able to operate tomorrow morning though and they parted as the night lowered it’s curtain over day; Jesse and Kix remained however to scope out some of the ladies coming in with the party crowds.

As good as the times spent together were, Tup silently willed the air-taxi to carry him away faster through the legendary Coruscant traffic and back home. He’d worn the necklace, the empty place it would otherwise occupy obvious, if she hadn’t noticed then she would certainly see the familiar box he’d left resting by her pillow. Stars he was ready, the anticipation had built all day, the secret only he kept feeding his need. He was thrumming for whatever Aurelie had to give him.

The taxi stopped and he cursed the second it took for the payment to transfer, the minute in the elevator, the short march down the hall, and the door code he had to spend time punching in-

The entry was dark with the exception of a string of pink fairy lights strung along the wall and leading around the corner to their room. He grinned and, remembering to turn back and lock the door when he was already halfway across the room, soon came to the closed panel that marked their space. He knocked, “May I come in mistress?”

“Enter, darling.” A high, breathy voice answered.

As the door opened Tup entered the threshold and lowered himself to his knees, his hands finding their place on his lap as he gazed upon the shining woman perched on the edge of their bed (somehow, someway, his girlfriend, a part of his brain never ceased obsessing). She regarded him warmly, “Have you been a good boy today Tup? You took your necklace and I really hope it didn’t make you do anything naughty.”

“I was very good, mistress, just for you.” His voice was breathy and quiet, he had been good, and he anticipated his reward. His eyes drank in the milky skin that clothed the leopardess in repose before him, partially obscured by the long, wavy strands of pearly blonde hair.

“Oh I know Tup, you’re such a good boy. You wake me up with kisses, make sure I have food to eat when I work late, and you were so considerate to get our box of toys out for me. I don’t know where to begin, but good boys deserve to be rewarded, isn’t that right my beautiful boy?” 

Aurelie’s voice caressed his every synapse as he breathed in air that still held the trace of a burn from a heavy incense and he was already in a state. Her words of praise had passed straight down from his ears to his cock, bringing him to a full erection from the half mast he’d been sailing at since walking through the front door. “Yes, please mistress, yes.” If it sounded like he was begging, Tup didn’t care. Her soft thighs were resting atop one another, hiding from him what he’d been craving all day. Just one simple shift was all it would take to reveal to him where she was no doubt already soft, sweet, and wet.

Her legs uncrossed, but she stood instead of spreading wider and came to stand before him, her curl-crowned mound a tease before him that turned his need to a desperate clamour within him. He held still, eyes glued to hers as she leaned down to him and brought her pillowy lips to kiss him, one hand coming up to cradle his cheek and the other fiddles with his collar for the necklace she’d gifted him. His hands were curled hard on his lap, restraining himself from the urge to reach out and touch; being so, so good and waiting.

Drawing the pendant along the chain away from Tup’s racing heart, Aurelie held it between them and teased: “Is this what you want Tup? Do you want to eat my pussy until you’re begging for me to fuck you, until you cum in me? Or maybe I’ll ride that handsome face of yours all night and let you cum in my mouth while you’re hard at work.” Tup could only manage a tortured moan, the pictures being painted in his head making him dizzy. She lightly laughed and graciously accepted that as her answer, gently leading him across the floor as she walked backwards with the chain still in her hand, him crawling on all fours after her. When she returned to the bed she sat as he looked up at her with lust and adoration.

Still holding the pendant, she slowly drew her legs apart, raising one to rest on the bed so her pussy and the glorious pink of her vulva were wide open on display for Tup in his current position. Aurelie considered the pendant again for a moment. “I’m glad I found that artist, it’s a wonderful likeness, isn’t it darling?” From the petal-like folds of her labia minora to the majora that protected them and the unique hood that shadowed her marvelous clit, it couldn’t belong to anyone else. The highest honour Tup felt was being lucky enough to be the one person allowed to worship it. 

“Stars yes, mistress!” He agreed emphatically and Aurelie laughed lightly again and let the necklace fall back into its place from her fingers. 

“Well, come and get your reward Tup.” He gladly obliged. 

🍑🍑🍑

So yeah, Tup as a Sub wears a necklace of his girlfriend’s vulva when he really wants to be her good boy (; It also helps that it’s really pretty ✨👀✨

Also sorry if this is a little off, this wasn’t even alpha read, let alone beta read.

Aurelie is one of a few OC’s I’ve used in my daydreams, she may make another appearance in another story if I think she’ll fit! I may try and do some art too…

As for the boys at the bar, I came up with ideas for what they’re up to now and may either write other Kinktober stuff in this AU, or do some drabbles later (though I could include the Kinktober stuff in an AU drabble, right?). I didn’t include it in the story though because I felt like it would disturb the flow too much. I’ll probably detail the AU in another post if I do end up doing that.

Kinktober works so far

Masterlist

[halzore]

New Adventures

HI! welcome to the first iteration of the Space Grannies AU. PSA, i am not writing this in order or i’d never get anything done. anyway! I hope you guys enjoy this little introduction of Jesse’s story in this AU! [Edit: this is after the war, but never fear, actual war snippets shall be occuring]

Let me know what you think, I love feedback (its what fuels me)

Tags (lmk if have forgotten anyone or if you would like to be added, I promise i don’t bite): @simping-for-fives @a-lil-perspective @cacodaemonia @thanksveryga @feathersforclones @crystalshard @sued134 @fermentedmustard @leias-left-hair-bun @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life  @nadja-855 @hugtherocks

~~~

The suburban people speeder was different to the LAAT/I’s Jesse had got used to throughout his time in the war. Speeder was quiet, not buffeting him around every turn. He held his small GAR-issued suitcase by his legs as he shuffled in his flimsy civilian clothing.

The people speeder stopped outside a set of black ornate gates, which incorporated into the design, said “Upper Theed Retirement Village.” As far as he could tell, Jesse was the only one of his brothers billeted here so far, with Tup, Hardcase, Fives and Echo elsewhere on Naboo and Kix and Rex still off-world helping with the GAR transition. He looked down at a piece of flimsy in his hand and saw a scribbled number which he punched into the keypad. The gates swung open, and ARC trooper Jesse made his way inside.

He followed the vague directions to number 38 Nebula Way, walking through the intense stares he could feel from each passing shuttered window. Two left turns later and he was there, standing in front of an old fly wire door. Clutching his suitcase tightly, Jesse reached out and hit the doorbell. An obnoxious ringing seemed to summon a whirlwind of pepper grey hair and mothballs out of stasis.

“Darling! Hello! Ohhh I’ve been waiting for you.” She threw the door open and whisked the soldier into her home. Jesse was astounded at the strength the small woman possessed as she effortlessly pulled him along in her jovial crusade.

“Sit down, dear” Before Jesse knew it he was sitting on an old plaid brown couch that complimented the equally time static room, filled with bits and bobs in ever single nook and cranny. A cup of tea was being thrown into Jesse’s hand.

“I am so going to be the talk of the town after this.” The small old lady effervesced excitedly as she sat across from her new source of local fame. “So, my boy, what’s your name.” She smiled across to him.

Jesse had seen many war-zones, and was prepared for pretty much all of them, but this phenomenon was new, and would require a new strategy.

~~~

“Jesse, dear, can you bring that tray of caramel slice down when you come.”

Hattie hurried out of the door, Jesse hot on her heels carrying two trays of her Famous Caramel Slice.

“Don’t worry we are not going to be late.” Jesse soothed as a look of slight craziness set on Hattie’s features. He had to stride fast to keep up with the determined hobble of his IASG host as she beelined for the Community Cafe.

“It’s Sybil’s birthday, that dastardly fiend, I love her but she is always one step ahead. She just got a new billet, I am going to be upstaged.” Jesse’s heart beat faster, thinking about seeing a brother again.

Hattie’s dramatic antics were not new to Jesse. He had grown quite used to them in his short time living with the small lady. They had fallen in that of a routine, Jesse would accompany her on morning walks, as Hattie proudly showed all her neighbours her new best friend. Jesse smiled at them and flirted his way into free baked goods, which were steady in supply. Jesse learned to play Mahjong with Sybil, Hattie and their cards club. Eventually, Jesse had got to grips with the social minefield of the Naboo old folks home, and while he missed his brothers he welcomed the change.

The cafe was small and packed with the elderly. Food lined the collapsable tables along the perimeter of the mostly transparisteel building. Small sandwiches, cut into triangles, homemade biscuits, exquisite tea-sets that would have made General Kenobi jealous. Jesse stood out like a sore thumb, towering above the retirees, his eyes sweeping along the tops of various heads, white, grey, balding, until he met some features. Features that looked exactly like his own.

He had seen those eyes many a times, after waking up from a particularly nasty battle, or from across the sticky tables in 79s, but he hadn’t seen them in quite a while.

“Kix.”

The mirror of his face opened wide with a smile as the two men pushed through to drown each other in a hug.

“I thought you were helping the transition.” Jesse’s voice was incredulous, unbelieving, unsure of what he was really seeing.

“I was, but then the grannies hooked me up with a billet near you.” Kix couldn’t stop smiling, Jesse hugged his brother tighter.

Hattie was standing by her caramel slice, she made it for everyone, but mainly for herself. It was too tasty. She turned to the shrivelled dark haired lady next to her.

“They’re wonderful boys.” Hattie had a glimmer in her eye. Sybil turned to look at her eccentric friend.

“That they are.” Sybil reached out to Hattie, grabbing her hand. “Let’s make their lives better.” Hattie just squeezed Sybil’s hand tighter.