#lost clones found a new general

[mrsfeiix]

I had the weirdest dream last night

In my dream The Master chief from Halo somehow crashes on the planet of felucia near a squad of clone troopers who just lost their jedi. When he wakes up he’s surrounded by these clones and whips out an energy sword for defense. When the clones see the plasma sword they all share one collective brain cell and proceed to point and call him jedi/general. Poor chief is so confused and tired because at the end of the day he single handily stops an army of droids and accidentally adopts a squad of clones who follow him around like a lost puppy.

This dream could a factor that I have been playing MCC as well as rewatching the clone wars

[kometqh]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of his brothers did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And receive it, they did.

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

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

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

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

No, this definitely wasn't a dream.

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

[spacedace]

Got another dc x dp writing prompt blurb thing for yall (this time featuring TimKon)

Elle declaring herself Queen of the Clones as a joke because Danny is the Ghost King and she should get a fun title too and accidentally making herself effectively the god of clones across all dimensions as a result.

Elle being suddenly aware of all the clones in existence in a vague way, but able to "tune in" on specific ones, or suddenly becoming aware when a clone is in serious trouble.

Elle deciding, fuck it, she's gonna take care of all the clones that need taking care of, turning her haunt in the Ghost Zone into a place of safety, using her new abilities as God Queen of Clones to make it so whenever any of them need help they get pulled to her Haunt instantly.

Connor getting mortally wounded in a fight, saving the day but getting buried in rubble away from where anyone would be able to dig him out in time to save him and suddenly being Somewhere Else.

Connor getting saved by Elle and the yetis, but having amnesia from the severe headroom (he can't remember anything except maybe the face of a boy his age, dark circles under sharp blue eyes, a wry smile, the understanding that Connor was in love with whoever the boy is or was).

Elle not being able to tell where Connor is from, her Haunt just pulls clones in trouble in when they need her help, there's no sending address or anything like that. And he was in such bad shape its not like she trusts that sending him back to where ever he's from is even safe to do.

Connor being one of the permanent residents of Elle's haunt (she always tries to find the clones that end up there a place of their own, getting Clockwork to de-age them and a good family to love them for those that want that, a spot in Amity where clones don't even register as anything weird, or just back to where they came from but now with the promise of somewhere to call home and a new family of clones to care for them) and ends up with the title of her knight or champion or something along the way, looking after everyone when Elle is off traveling and generally being vice-president of Clone Club

Elle getting captured by the GIW while out seeing the world, unable to escape but at least able to alert her family that she's in trouble.

Danny and the Pham not being able to break in because of all the upped security keeping away anything ghostly or ghost adjacent

Connor and a group of the clone club rallying to get Elle out themselves, breaking in and releasing as many ghosts as they can and destroying as much as they can and oops the Justice League has shown up

Connor not having powers in the Ghost Zone and being very freaked out when he punched Superman in the face and sent him flying a hundred yards, surprising the Clone Club with his super strength and surprising the League with his surprise about his super strength and frantic apologies to Superman for yeeting him across an open field (up to this point they assumed this was another evil clone situation Lex cooked up but now aren't so sure).

The GIW ends up closing in to attack the clones who just got Elle back and need to make a break for it before the portal back closes while that's happening and Connor decides to be self-sacrificing and give them cover, so they can escape.

Connor surrendering to the Justice League before the GIW can grab him once everyone else is free and clear, because he knows Elle and the other Clones will break him out and that's gonna be a lot easier if he's not in GIW custody

Tim and the Young Justice gang losing their God damn minds because that's Connor?? Maybe?? He doesn't remember them or the Justice League or Superman or anything but it has to be him right? They never found his body, Tim had been so sure he was still out there alive somehow - had lost weeks and months to maddening grief, desperately searching for some sign that Connor was out there somewhere - and now here he is!

Connor refusing to talk to the JL, low key trying to figure out if they actually do know who he is or if it's a trick - the Pham's stories of what they've all had to deal with and his own recent raid on the GIW has left him with a healthy suspicion of anything government related and the JL may not be with the GIW but they sure as hell are still government goons as far as he's concerned.

The main league being worried that it's mind control or a clone scheme or something like that and not really being sure what to do. There's too many questions about what happened to him, where he's been, what he was doing in that raid on that government facility - there's questions too on just what kind of facility that was, and a new case has already been opened on that whole can of worms - and Connor (if it is Connor) isn't answer their questions.

So they put him in a cell with some Kryptonite to make sure his powers are suppressed - half out of concern that him surrendering to them is a scheme, half terrified that if he really doesn't know he has powers anymore that he'll accidentally destroy the Watchtower with a sneeze. They make sure it's comfortable, he did apologize about punching Superman in the face - a lot, actually, it was pretty much the only thing he had said the entire time, along with very concerned questions on if the Man of Steel was okay - and while there's something strange going on, if it's mind control then they'd rather Connor come back to himself somewhere decent.

And no one is supposed to talk to him alone, or outside of a formal interrogation or without Wonder Woman there in case Connor gets hostile - even with the Kryptonite, they can't be too careful - but that's not going to stop Tim. His best friend is alive, there isn't a power in the universe that's going to keep him away.

Connor doesn't recognize him. Except that he does. It's weird, because his only memory has been the face of that boy, but there's also just something so familiar about Red Robin and it's the first familiar thing he's known since waking up in the Far Frozen over a year ago.

For awhile it's just Tim talking, trying to get Connor to remember, trying to do anything he can to prove (to everyone, to himself) that this really is Connor. And after over an hour he's nowhere near ready to give up, but he is maybe ready to go and have a breakdown in a supply closet for a bit, when Connor finally starts talking back.

He doesn't say much - he's suspicious, even as he becomes more and more sure that Red Robin is someone to him - but he does start talking and, it's nice. Familiar.

And just as he's considering actually telling Red Robin something - everything, really, Connor's always been a sucker for a cute boy that looked one more cup of coffee away from a psychotic break - the cavalry arrives. Ghosts everywhere, causing a distraction and looking for Connor and maybe just having a little fun fucking around for a bit while they're at it.

(Constantine is trying to sneak off to smoke somewhere he won't end up getting lectured like he's a disobedient school boy, opening a door to come face to spectral bellybutton with Fright Knight. He decides maybe Bats is right and he should quite smoking as he - fruitlessly - closes the door again without a word.)

Wulf is ready with a portal and Technus is in control of the station and the cell door opens just as Lunch Box appears to phase the cuffs off Connor (and maybe steal some of that delicious rock candy that was in those cuffs for some reason, her parents won't let her have any back at home and she's helping the royal family get one of their loyal knights back, she deserves a little treat) and it's time to go.

Tim's ready to throw down, terrified that whatever the hell these things are they're going to take Connor away again, but just as he's working out a plan on just how he's going to fight something that can walk through walls, disappear and fly (and eat fucking Kryptonite), he suddenly finds himself being thrown over Connor's shoulder and being carried through a terrifying rip in space and time to another dimension.

Conner can admit, as he lands back in Elle's haunt with all the ghosts streaming in behind him as the portal closes and the Clone Club rushing forward to check on him and Red Robin still slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (a cute sake of potatoes, though) he might not have thought this one through.

Kidnapped by his amnesiac and possibly mind controlled best friend and dragged to hell(?) aside, Tim's just happy Conner brought him with him this time. Batman and the rest of the League, still reeling from what just happened, are not nearly as happy with that fact.

[baddest-batchers]

Kiss Me Then Kiss Me Some More

Tech fans, come get ya’ll’s treat! another tooth ache inducing fluff piece about the bad batch’s beautiful balding man by yours truly. I was delirious with sleep as I wrote the end of this so please forgive any mistakes or whack ass sounding sentences. I’ll will go back through and edit this later. enjoy ya’ll’s cake!

Tag warnings: gtfo younglings, very fluffy and sweet but mildly suggestive, whole lotta kissing, slightly jealous Tech. reader and Tech have only been together for a short time. first ‘I love yous.’ new relationship jittery sweet goodness.

Summary: Tech x fem!reader. you and Tech have only been together for a month and you’re both still discovering new things about each other. On this particular evening, you approach Tech wearing Wrecker’s shirt and for the first time in his life, he’s jealous.

Word count: 2.5k

Taglist: @alegendoftomorrow @techwrecker @stellarbit

Divider by: @general-ida-raven

“Hey, Tech.” You smiled sweetly down at him from where he sat in his bunk. He was stripped down to his blacks snugged under the sorry excuse for a blanket that every clone was issued upon beginning active duty service.

“Hello, cyar’ika.” Tech greeted you while briefly looking up from his datapad, a small smile gracing his features at the sound of your voice. You blushed at his use of the Mando’a term while the butterflies in your stomach took flight.

“Are you busy?” You asked, slightly tipping your head to one side, hands clasped together behind your back.

“Not especially.” He replied, “Are you in need of something?” Tech continued tapping away at the keys of his datapad for another few moments.

“Oh, well I was just wondering..if maybe you’d like to cuddle and watch a holofilm with me?” You looked everywhere but at him while a blush crept its way across your cheeks.

Your relationship with Tech was still quite new, you two only having been together for a month, and you both were still learning to navigate being a couple within the squad.

Sitting more upright in his bunk, Tech set aside his datapad and adjusted his goggles that had slid down his nose. His eyes settled on you as he looked you over standing before him. You were wearing lounge shorts and a shirt that was several sizes too big with the Republic emblem on the shoulder of it’s left sleeve and Wrecker’s CT number and name sewn in Aurebesh into the hem. Though, Tech could tell it was his largest brother’s shirt simply by the size of it.

“You are wearing one of Wrecker’s shirts.” Tech stated and raised a quizzical brow as the unfamiliar feeling of mild jealously tugged at his heart. He inwardly scolded himself for feeling such a way but found that it was not so easily dismissed.

“Oh, yeah, he gave it to me when the ship’s air conditioning was broken a few months ago since my GAR issued sleepwear was long sleeved.” You answered him quickly, taking note of how his expression had changed after he had gotten a proper look at you.

Tech nodded but didn’t speak for a moment, seemingly lost in a thought that made his features harden just a bit. You glanced over his face as his lips pursed ever so slightly and immediately recognized the slight jealously he must be feeling over you wearing his brother’s shirt.

You dropped your gaze down to the shirt in question that hung very loosely on your body and then brought your eyes to look at Tech again, his expression unchanged as he stared off in thought, no doubt trying to wrestle with his feelings.

You couldn’t help the soft and barely audible “oh, Tech” that left your lips as you realized what he was feeling.

You smiled softly, deciding then that you’d make sure he felt every bit of your devotion for him in that moment. Climbing into his bunk, you reached for the privacy curtain and pulled it closed with a gentle swoosh. Turning from your seated position to face him, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Tech snapped out of his introspection at the contact of your lips to his face, feeling his heart rate begin to quicken slightly. He noticed that you had pulled the curtain closed around his bunk but before he even had time to wonder what you were doing, he observed as you reached for the hem of Wrecker’s shirt. You pulled it off in one smooth motion, then folded it neatly and set it down on the floor next to his bunk.

Tech’s eyes widened behind his goggles as he took you in sitting before him, wearing only your GAR issued shorts and bra. His face had flushed considerably as his eyes wandered over your body. Watching him take in the sight of you seated in front of him made a blush spread across your own face. Dropping your gaze from Tech, you instinctively crossed your arms over your middle and shifted a bit nervously on his mattress.

Taking you in for another lingering moment, Tech finally opened his mouth to speak. “You are…stunning.” He said breathily while his eyes memorized every detail of your figure. Your blush deepened under his gaze. You smiled shyly back at him while tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep from fidgeting nervously.

After passing his gaze over you once more, Tech leaned over the side of his bunk, reaching for the storage drawer just beneath it. He pulled from it one of his own GAR issued t-shirts, and pushed himself back up into the bunk. Once seated comfortably again, Tech offered you the shirt, “Here. I’d much prefer it if you wore my shirt instead of Wrecker’s. You may have it if you so desire it.”

“Thanks, Tech.” You murmured sweetly in surprise as you took his shirt from him. You ran your thumb over the stitching of his name and CT number embroidered at the bottom hem. Glancing back up into his deep brown eyes, you reached across the short distance separating Tech and yourself, gently bringing your hand to rest against his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you jealous. My other sleep clothes need to be cleaned and Wrecker’s shirt was the only top I had.” Your tone had shifted, taking on the sincerity that reflected in your eyes. You hoped that your reassurance would ease his troubled mind.

Tech’s eyes flitted between yours and then down to your lips and back up again. “I am aware that you did not mean to cause me any ill feelings, dearest. It had just occurred to me that I would much prefer to see you wearing one of my shirts instead of my brother’s.” Tech’s voice was quiet as he admitted his feelings. Your eyes widened in surprise at his words and you felt your face flush yet again. He was terribly skilled at making you blush, even during the most inopportune moments.

Slowly, you moved in closer to him, setting his shirt aside then bringing your hand to rest on the other side of his face. Your fingers pressed firmly into the sides of his face as you gently pulled him towards you. Tech gasped slightly at your touch which made you smile before pressing your lips gently to his. He kissed you back with fervor while his hands came up to firmly grasp at your shoulders.

You felt Tech begin to shift in front of you without breaking the contact of his lips on yours. Gently, he eased you into his lap while his hands almost possessively found hold on your waist. Your body was now fully flushed against his with your legs wrapped around his waist and crossed behind him. Tech slowly, but deliberately began trailing feather-light kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. His touch pulled a sound from you Tech wanted to hear repeated over and over again for the rest of his life. The heat that was building within him was growing hotter the more he touched you and the more you whispered his name in pure bliss.

“Tech, Tech, my love…” You half whispered, half moaned against his ear. This sent a shutter through him as his hands began roving over the bare skin of your waist and back. You squeezed your legs around him in a desperate attempt to be even closer to him.

Feeling you press further into him sent Tech into overdrive. With one smooth motion he flipped you so that you were positioned underneath him with your legs still wrapped around his waist. You gasped at the sudden change in position while the warmth in your chest began to spread throughout your body.

Gazing up at him, wide eyed and with lips slightly parted, you uttered his name again, “Tech…” your voice dripped with desire as your eyes flickered back and forth between his own then down to his lips.

He stared back at you, both his hands on other side of your head with his weight not completely resting against you. Tech searched your face for any sign of discomfort before leaning down to kiss you once more.

“Please alert me if you become at all uncomfortable.” Tech insisted before lowering himself onto you, not wanting to push any boundaries you might have.

“I’m more than comfortable with this.” You smiled and gestured with a glance down at your two bodies, his hovering tantalizingly close just above your own. Your consent came much faster than he was expecting but he smiled down at you in a way that conveyed all the love and admiration he held within his heart. Before he could lean down to resume expressing his affection, you whispered something to him that he thought he must have heard incorrectly with how quietly you had spoken.

“I love you, Tech. I’m yours.” You whispered while taking in his expression. Neither of you had said those three little words yet, but now seemed like the perfect time to tell him. If you were being honest, you had loved him from the moment you first spent time alone with him in the cockpit one night during his watch shift, but it had taken a while for the two of you to admit your feelings for each other.

Tech’s eyes were wide and his breath hitched in his throat as his heart hammered against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond but the words wouldn’t form, so he just gazed down at you through his goggles with his lips slightly parted.

You chuckled softly while slowly running your fingers through his soft curls at the nape of his neck. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready to.”

But his reply tumbles from his lips before you’ve barely finished your sentence.

“And I love you, however, based on the simple fact that I have been enamored by you since the moment you joined this squad, it is I who belongs to you.” He breathes out his reply.

Tech’s words bring tears to the corners of your eyes and you whisper his name yet again in an almost choked breath. It’s enough to push him forward, resting his weight against you and pushing his lips to yours in near desperation, like he needs your lips on his like he needs air in his lungs to breathe. Tech continues his desperate quest to taste as much of you as he possibly can, kissing from your lips down to the soft spot under your ear, then further down to your pulse point.

His kisses pull a gasp from you and then he hears you repeating his name over and over in the most blissful tone he’s ever heard. “Dearest, you will drive me mad with the way in which you are uttering my name.” Tech whispers into your neck, his mouth never leaving your skin.

“M-mad in a good way?” You breathily stutter out, further burying your fingers in his hair.

“Well, yes, of course in a good way.” Tech chuckles darkly against you while his hand moves to tangle in your hair. You sigh his name again, just to see and feel his reaction. Tech groans quietly into the spot between your neck and shoulder then places another needy kiss there.

“How touching, but could the two of you not do that while some of us are trying to sleep.” Came Crosshair’s voice from his bunk above Tech’s, annoyance dripping from his tone.

Your eyes grew wide at the sound of Crosshair’s voice as Tech pulled back slightly, rolling his eyes at his brother. Your hands retreated from the back of Tech’s head to cover your face as it turned as red as a meiloorun.

“Yeah, and for that matter, could you guys wait until the rest of us aren’t still aboard the ship before getting, uh…intimate?” Echo chimed in from the adjacent bunk.

“Oh kriff.” You cursed through your fingers as you locked eyes with Tech for a brief moment.

“Technically, we are not engaging in any intimate activity at this moment other than kissing.” Tech pointed out shortly to both of his brothers before planting another kiss to your forehead.

“Tech!” You squealed, bringing both your hands to cover his mouth. His eyes flashed with a mischievous and confident glint from behind his goggles.

Your hands slid down to rest on his chest as you giggled awkwardly. After a beat of silence, you mustered up the strength to speak directly to Echo and Crosshair.

“He’s right, guys. We were just kissing.” You say, trying to keep your voice steady and even, though your heart was still pounding from embarrassment.

“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair shot back lazily. “If you’re gonna kiss in here, then at least have the decency to warn us first. Or find a different part of the ship that isn’t where we all sleep.”

Tech propped himself up onto one arm before pushing himself back into a seated position on his mattress. You let out the smallest of whines when the weight of his body pressed against yours was suddenly gone. After adjusting his goggles, he offered you his hand and pulled you up to sit next to him, both of your backs against the wall of the bunk.

“We did not plan on osculating. It happened organically.” Tech stated matter of factly as he adjusted his goggles again.

“Real romantic, Tech.” Echo deadpanned.

Echo’s comment made you bury your face in Tech’s shoulder. Huffing out a breath, you decided to silence Crosshair and Echo hopefully once and for all tonight. You really couldn’t handle much more of this teasing.

“Regardless, Tech is still right, we didn’t plan on making out. But get over it for kriff’s sake, I’m sure both of you have been caught more than once getting cozy in here with some fling or another so, stow it.”

The room would have been deafeningly silent if not for the hum of the Marauder. You worried for a moment if you’d spoken too harshly to Echo and Crosshair, but the feeling quickly drained from your mind as Tech interlaced the fingers of his left hand with those of your right.

“So, she does bite.” Crosshair’s slightly muffled chuckle broke the silence. “Watch out, Tech.”

You let out an exasperated sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose with your left hand. Before you could open your mouth to snark back at the sniper, Tech leaned in close to your ear, his breath fanning against your neck, stopping you from saying anything further.

“Do you indeed bite, mesh’la?” Tech whispered so that his brothers couldn’t hear. “What an intriguing thought. I do intend to find out at a more appropriate time and place if you do.”

Your eyes grew wide at the sudden boldness from Tech. But without skipping a beat, you turned your head to face him, leaning in to kiss him deeply before taking his bottom lip between your teeth and giving it a slight nibble. You gently pulled away and gazed at him through half lidded eyes, a suggestive look crossing your face as you took in his pleasantly surprised expression.

“Only if you want me to.” You whispered with an enticing lilt to your voice.

“Oh, I most certainly do.” Tech murmured as he leaned in to capture the soft spot under your ear in a gentle kiss.

•••

[confusedblakex]

‘Bakugo’s Match’ Quick Story and Headcannons

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo X (Male) Reader

Summary: Transferring to UA a little late into the year, you find that you are an exact mirror reflection of Katsuki Bakugo - a boy in class 1A who won’t shut up about it

Warnings: Cursing, sexual themes... kinda? (Not really, but by my standards it counts)

Requested by: @iamthebest1100 (Back in 2023)

Notes: He’s baaaaaack!

Last edited: 14th February 2024

Class 1B was bad enough with just Monoma…

— “We have a new transfer student who will be joining this class,” Vlad King announced as a tall boy trudged into the room, “I expect you give him a warm welcome,”

“I’m (y/n),” the boy announced at the front of the room, “but don’t think that just because I got here late I’m weak, I’ll beat all your asses,”

The entirety of 1B deadpanned. You were just like Bakugo but with less yelling- —

The tension between you and Bakugo was intense

Like, you could ignore Monoma

But from the moment you two met it was instant

Bakugo thought of himself as better because he was in Class 1A

You thought of yourself as better because you were only in 1B due to transferring late

Fights between the two of you were matches of outlasting, you were both powerful and your quirks were similar

His was Explosions, nitroglycerine in his sweat

Yours was Kinetic Blast, the ability to collect kinetic energy and release it around you in high amounts

His explosions would charge your quirk, but your quirk made him sweat more due to the heat it could generate

— “Getting tired yet?” you goaded as he lunged at you with an explosion but missed.

“Ha! As if-” Bakugo yelled back, but you used your quirk to throw him away from you. The face behind his only urged you on more.

He landed a solid hit on your chest in retaliation, but it only made your quirk stronger. You sent that same kinetic energy back at him, the temperature around you both rising.

“Fuck you!” —

The current standing was your 11 wins to Bakugo’s 9

He kept saying that it was because his quirk charges yours more than yours charged his

Really, it was just that you wasted less energy with yelling profanities

Maybe he would finally shut up if his lips were on yous-

Wait what?

Even with exams the two of you would compete

But you were too well matched, often having the exact same scores

It didn’t take long of this routine before friendship attempted to weave through you, against both of your wishes

Once per fortnight the two of you would fight on a Friday, an unspoken agreement

When you won a match, you would lose the next

When he lost a match, he would win the next

Your firey personalities often lead to tension

But you could never truly hate each other

Actually, you both found the other rather attractive…

— The two of you had been put in a team together. Whether this was the teachers’ plan or not, you found yourself glaring at both Eraserhead and Vlad King.

“Bakugo your left!” you yelled as an Ectoplasm clone lunged at him. Without a moments notice, he turned and used his quirk in the clone’s face.

“Fuck that! How many are you on?!” he asked, lunging at another clone. The two of you were competing over who could ‘kill’ the most of Ectoplasm clones during training. Though it was not what the teachers wanted to instil in the two aggressive students, they couldn’t deny that it was a productive tactic.

“36-” you responded, but Bakugo quickly yelled back.

“Ha! 40! Take that you little shit-”

Right as Bakugo was about to hit one clone, another tripped him up from behind, causing him to stumble into you. You didn’t budge and held the boy’s weight, but he had fallen in a way that his body was partially draped across yours.

“What the fuck? Are you trying to seduce me or something?” You asked, using your quirk behind you to knock back any clones while Bakugo got to his feet.

“No?” Bakugo said, offended as he backed away from you quickly. Then he turned back and smirked, “Why, do you think I’m attractive-?”

“Shut the fuck up!” You cut him off, turning away to fight more, “Looking at your face for too long would make anyone lose brain cells,” —

The two of you were actually highly productive together and worked surprisingly well as a team

The flirting however? The came from nowhere

It started a way to get a rise out of Bakugo, but he was better than you thought

He would twist your words with that sexy ass grin and flirt back

But there was something more that neither of you ever spoke about

— “You’re weak.” you said on a whim one night, the two of you alone in a training room.

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugo seethed.

“Weak.” you reiterated.

Bakugo tried again, but you cut him off, “I will kill you-!”

“You can have as strong of a quirk as you like, but you’re weak,”

The two of you stood in silence, rage in Bakugo’s eyes but he felt like he needed to listen to what you had to say. Your eyes held something he couldn’t quite place, but rage he could find was only directed at yourself.

“You ever wondered why you’re trying to prove yourself?” you asked, “Expectations, inferiority…”

Bakugo ran it all through his mind. He was always told he would be a great hero. He was always trying to earn respect that he felt he was owed. He was always competing with someone when he felt like he wasn’t good enough.

But then something clicked. You were also like him. You were so much like him that his classmates often joked that you were his clone.

“By that logic so are you!” he found himself yelling defensively. He saw that same defensiveness flash in you.

“Yes, I fucking am!” you yelled, “Why do you think we fight each other?”

Silence settled between the two of you again. You turned and massaged your temples in frustration, but turned back when you heard Bakugo say your name.

“(y/n),”

You came face to face with him, his breath on your lips and your noses practically touching. Before you could protest, his lips were on yours.

It was an angry kiss. Passionate and annoyed, but far more gentle than you expected. Despite your urge to pull back, you only pressed the kiss further. Backing down would be admitting defeat.

His tongue slid across your lip and in retaliation you softly bit at his. Neither of you had backed down yet, and in your muffled thoughts you wondered if the only way to lose would be to run out of breath.

As the kiss deepened further, Bakugo reached to hold you, his hand on your hip and gripping hard. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you panic. This was actually real. In a split-second reaction, you used your quirk to push him back. He stumbled as he processed what had just happened, now a two-person distance between you.

You had lost. He had taken you off guard and you reacted.

“Fuck you!” you said darkly. 

“You better be fucking good at it then,” he said and walked off as if nothing at all had just happened. He said it like a threat but you froze when you realised what he had meant.

Bakugo smirked on his way out. Not because you of what he had said and not even because you were flustered, but because he had won. No homo. —

You never spoke about that day again, and neither of you were ever going to admit any feelings out loud

Not for a very long while at least

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Five: From the Ashes

Chapter WC: 7,131

Chapter Warnings: None

A/N: me: i'm not writing a love triangle. also me: writes this chapter.

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They made you a General.

After the battle on Geonosis, the Senate and the Jedi Council came to an agreement. With the Separatist threat looming larger than ever, and the Clone Wars officially begun, the Senate agreed that the Jedi would lead the Grand Army of the Republic, and that the Council would appoint the Jedi Generals to command the troops.

And they chose you.

The Council believed that your skill and experience was more than enough to merit the title, but you didn't believe that for a moment. You were one of the few left standing, and the fact that you'd been there on the front lines, fighting against Dooku and his droids, likely had more of a role to play in the decision than any supposed skill of yours.

You were one of the youngest to be given such a rank, and even Obi-Wan was shocked when they informed you. You’d tried not to let your bitterness at his lack of confidence show, but it was difficult. After everything, after what had happened, you weren’t sure you were up to the task, and Obi-Wan seemed to agree.

But it was more than that.

You were among the many who suddenly found themselves elevated above their station in the aftermath. There was a whole score of Padawans who were now Knights as well as Generals with their own command, and Anakin was among them. You agreed that it was well-deserved, but you also knew, deep down, that it was the Council's attempt to keep him under their control. To give Anakin the responsibility, and the power, that he craved without giving him too much freedom. 

You can't help but wonder if it was the same with you, or if the Council saw something different in you. They hadn't always been particularly supportive of your skills, but now, they were quick to put their faith in you. You don't know what to think, or how to feel. You're honored, of course, but there's a part of you that can't help but feel as if they're just using you. That you're nothing more than a pawn to move about the board as they please.

It's a feeling that you've been struggling with ever since you were named a Knight, and now, as a Master, the doubt has only grown.

The other Knights are congratulating each other, some even embracing, but you stay on the outskirts, your hands clasped behind your back and your head bowed. You can't bring yourself to celebrate, not with so many having lost their lives, and the weight of your new responsibilities settling heavily upon your shoulders.

The loss of life is a staggering number. Of the two hundred and twelve Jedi who had arrived on Geonosis with you, only thirty had made it out alive, and those survivors were scarred and battered, many not even fully healed from their ordeals. That wasn’t even considering the death toll of the clone ranks, numbering in the thousands.

You were lucky to have had that clone, Rex, save you, and you were grateful for his assistance, but you still feel the guilt gnawing at you. You wonder if he went back to the fight, if he perished like so many of his brothers, or if he too is nursing the pain of survival that you are.

There's a tap on your shoulder, pulling you suddenly from your thoughts, and you glance up to see Anakin standing next to you, a grin on his face.

“Well, are you going to congratulate me?” he asks.

You roll your eyes before you step forward and embrace him. He lets out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and squeezing gently. His new metal hand is a strange weight against your back, and a cold reminder of how much things have changed.

"Congratulations," you tell him as you pull away. "I'm happy for you."

"You don't sound very happy," he replies, his brow furrowing.

"I think you deserve it, Anakin," you say truthfully. "It's about time the Council realized how skilled you are."

“But…?”

"But nothing," you reply.

"Come on," he insists, his tone light, "tell me what's bothering you."

No one around is listening, but you can’t help but cast a glance around the chamber. You lower your voice, stepping closer to him. "I'm worried about what this all means.”

“It means you and I are finally getting the recognition we deserve," Anakin says, as if it were obvious. "Why are you so against that?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. It catches on the tangled strands, and you grimace, forcing your hand down.

"It's just not how I imagined things going," you tell him with a sigh. "I was always taught that a Jedi is supposed to serve, and now, we're leading soldiers into battle."

"We're fighting for a good cause, and we'll be helping people," he replies easily. "That's what we've always wanted to do."

You frown, your lips pressing into a thin line. Anakin is right, and you know it. But the thought of leading an army, and the idea of all the lives that will be lost, makes your stomach turn.

"You don't agree," he says in the face of your silence, a note of disappointment in his voice. You can see him deflating, and you quickly rush to reassure him.

"No, I do," you insist, forcing a smile. "It's just...a lot to take in, that's all."

"It's because of Master Yaddle, isn't it?"

The mention of her name makes your heart ache. You haven't spoken to anyone about her death in years, and you've never discussed it with Anakin. It's easy to forget, sometimes, just how much you two have in common. How many losses and tragedies the both of you have had to endure.

"Partly," you admit, the words sticking in your throat.

"You don't think she'd approve," Anakin says, his gaze softening.

"It doesn't matter what she would've thought," you say sharply. At the look on his face, you sigh and force yourself to calm down. "Sorry, Anakin. I'm just...I'm not sure if we're really ready for this."

"Well, I know I am," he replies, and his grin is back, and as always, it’s infectious. He gives you a nudge, and you can't help but smile back, some of the weight lifting from your shoulders. “And I know you are, too."

His confidence in you is overwhelming, and you have to fight the urge to scoff. You wish you had even half of his conviction, his sense of certainty.

You look at the others, the joyful conversations and laughter filling the room. And for a moment, you allow yourself to relax, to bask in the celebration and the relief that comes with it. But you can't forget the reason for it, and the weight returns, a heavy pressure against your chest.

"It's going to be okay," Anakin says, resting a hand on your shoulder. "This whole thing will be over before we know it, and we'll go back to doing what we were meant to."

"Thanks, Anakin," you say, softly. "You always know how to make me feel better."

You smile at him, and he smiles back. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, and then he's gone, lost in the crowd of Knights and Padawans and Masters. Your shoulders slump as you watch him go, and you're struck by how much he's changed.

The Anakin you knew would have scoffed at the idea of leadership, of being the head of an army. But now, he's embraced it, and his passion, his eagerness, is almost frightening. It’s hard to reconcile the boy who was so reluctant to grow up with the man standing before you. You're not sure what's changed, or what's made him so determined to accept the title, but it worries you.

The celebration is still ongoing, but you slip out unnoticed, the voices of the other Jedi fading into the background. You have a lot to think about, and a lot to consider, and you need some time alone.

You make your way through the halls of the Temple, the marble walls and floors reflecting the light from the windows. It's quiet, and peaceful, and for a moment, you can almost forget the chaos that's raging outside. Of the battles already being fought across the galaxy in the name of the Republic.

As you walk, the doubts start to creep back in. Are you really ready for this? You're barely older than the other Knights, and your experience as a Jedi is limited, compared to the others. You've had a few successes, but more failures. Your track record is hardly exemplary, and your relationship with the Council has always been strained.

They hadn't even offered you your own batallion, not that you wanted one. Not that you were ready for it. Instead, they'd simply told you that your place on the battlefield, whenever it was needed, would be alongside Obi-Wan. You were still expected to carry out your usual duties as an investigator and a peacekeeper, but the war took precedence, and your assignments had been scaled back significantly.

You were glad that you were able to remain a part of the investigative branch of the Jedi, and that you weren't being pulled entirely away from your normal duties. But it still didn't sit well with you, and the thought of being placed at the forefront of the conflict made you uneasy. It didn't help that the entire time the Council had spoken to you of it, Obi-Wan sat quietly, his hands folded in his lap, and his expression carefully neutral.

You still weren't sure how to feel about that.

The two of you have been at odds for a long time, and his refusal to support you had always been a sore spot. It was the main reason you'd pushed him away, and you'd both kept your distance ever since. But now, you would have to work together. There would be no choice, no alternative.

He'd accepted the decision with no hesitation, though as a member of the Council himself, he likely could've declined. But he'd remained silent, his gaze fixed firmly ahead, and his voice carefully controlled. You'd felt his eyes on you, the frayed remnants of your bond in the Force tugging at the edge of your awareness. But he'd said nothing, and his silence was as damning as his disapproval.

It had stung, and you'd spent the rest of the meeting glaring at him, and trying not to let your frustration show. It was petty, and you knew it, but it was also easier than letting your feelings out in the open. Years had passed since the two of you had had any sort of meaningful conversation, and the last thing either of you needed was to have it out in front of the Council.

You let out a frustrated sigh and turn down another corridor, your steps echoing against the marble floor. The sun is starting to set, and the shadows are growing longer, the light slowly fading. It's peaceful, and quiet, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.

You stop when you reach the training rooms, and the doors slide open with a hiss. There's no better place to burn off your nervous energy than here, and a few rounds with the training droids should do the trick.

You're halfway across the room when a voice rings out.

"What are you doing here?"

Your eyes widen, and your steps falter. You'd been so focused on your destination that you hadn't noticed that the room wasn't empty. Standing by the far wall, his back to you, is Obi-Wan. His arms are folded across his chest, and his gaze is fixed on the window, the skyline of Coruscant stretched out below.

You curse yourself for being so careless, and for not sensing him sooner. You're normally more alert, more aware of your surroundings, and Obi-Wan's presence is easily distinguishable. But the shock of the day, and the chaos of the celebration, must have left you distracted.

You steel yourself, and then continue forward, keeping your pace even and steady.

"I should ask you the same question," you reply, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

He glances over his shoulder at you, and his eyes narrow. You can't help but notice the faint lines around them, the evidence of his years of stress.

"I came here to clear my head," he says, his voice tight. "And you?"

"Same," you reply, your tone clipped.

"Ah, so the promotion is weighing on you, then," he says, turning to face you. "I wondered if it might."

You glare at him, the tension between you mounting. His tone is condescending, and it sets your teeth on edge.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you snap.

"Nothing," he replies evenly. "Only that this will be a challenging new position for the both of us."

You shake your head, and then turn away from him. The anger is boiling in your chest, and you have to take a deep breath before you speak.

"If you have something to say, just say it," you tell him, trying to keep your voice level. "You've never had a problem telling me exactly how you feel before."

Obi-Wan lets out a frustrated sigh, and then turns, crossing the distance between you. You tense, but he stops several feet away, his hands clasped behind his back. He's always been the epitome of restraint, but you can see the anger in his eyes, and it's clear he's struggling to maintain his composure. You feel a flash of satisfaction at the fact that you've managed to get under his skin.

"Spar with me," he says suddenly. "Perhaps we can get this out of our systems."

"You want to fight me?" you ask, incredulous.

"Why not?" he retorts. "It's worked for us in the past."

You snort, but he has a point. The two of you have often sparred together over the years, and it has always been cathartic. The familiarity of the activity, the way it brings out the competitiveness in both of you, has always helped ease the tension between you. And after the events of the past few days, you could use the release.

"You and I may be remembering the outcome of those matches differently," you reply archly.

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. You're reminded of the countless times you've seen him use the same expression, the smugness and self-assurance infuriating and endearing in equal measure.

"Is that so?" Obi-Wan asks, his voice teasing. "Because I seem to recall winning a majority of those."

"A majority, not all.”

You push your robes off your shoulders and let them fall to the floor, leaving you in your leggings and tunic.

"And those that you did win were hardly decisive," he replies. "If memory serves, you had the upper hand on occasion, but never enough to guarantee victory."

"I'm fairly certain there were several instances where I was on top," you shoot back. You immediately wince at the words, the innuendo hitting you a moment too late.

"Yes, you certainly were," he murmurs, his voice low enough that you're not sure if you were meant to hear.

You feel a flush rising on your cheeks, and you quickly avert your eyes. It had been a mistake to provoke him, and now, the tension in the room is suffocating you. You can't even look at him, but Obi-Wan seems immune to the awkwardness, the very picture of stoicism.

"Well?" he asks, his tone businesslike once again. "Do we have an agreement, or not?"

You let out a sigh, and then nod. He takes a step back, and then removes his robe, his movements deliberate and careful. He folds it neatly and sets it on a nearby bench, and then he returns to the center of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You roll your shoulders, stretching your arms, and then move to meet him. You're not sure if this is the right thing to do, but it's a chance to finally get some of the frustrations and tensions out of your system. And if it gets too heated, well, that's a risk you're willing to take.

Obi-Wan draws his lightsaber from his belt and activates it, the blue blade humming as it springs to life. You can't help but notice that it's different from the one he had when the two of you were younger, different from the one he built after Naboo. The hilt is more slender, the emitter guard wider, and the color darker. There’s a twinge of regret building in your chest, the memory of the two of you making your first lightsabers together suddenly fresh in your mind.

He seems to notice the change in your demeanor, and he tilts his head.

"Problem?" he asks.

"No," you say, drawing your own weapon. The yellow blade hums as you ignite it, and Obi-Wan nods, seemingly satisfied. "First blood?"

"Or surrender," he counters. "Either will suffice."

"Very well.”

You nod, and then settle into a defensive stance, your lightsaber held at the ready. You don't want to fight him, not really. Not with everything else that's happening, and the emotions that are still bubbling to the surface. But if he wants a match, he'll get one.

Obi-Wan steps forward, his weapon raised, and then launches himself into a flurry of strikes. He's fast, and precise, and his technique is flawless. Back in your Padawan days, Obi-Wan had always been the better fighter, the better everything. And even now, with your skills more closely matched, his superior strength and experience are a challenge to overcome.

But he's not as quick as you are, and he doesn't have your stamina. After the day the two of you have had, you have the advantage, and you press it, your lightsaber flashing through the air as you counter his blows. He's taken aback by your ferocity, and it doesn't take long for him to realize that you're not holding back. 

The two of you dance around the room, the sounds of clashing blades echoing off the walls. It's been so long since the two of you have sparred, and you'd forgotten how much you missed it. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the fight, the closeness of his presence, the way the Force hums between you. It's almost like the old days, before things went bad, before Yaddle died, before everything.

Back when things were simpler.

Back when you had a family.

Your blades collide with a shower of sparks, and the two of you hold there for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. Your breathing is heavy, and you can see the sweat beading on his brow.

"Not bad," he says, his tone casual.

You grunt, pushing him away, and then swing again, your lightsaber flashing through the air.

"Not bad, yourself," you reply grudgingly.

Obi-Wan smirks, and then ducks under your blade, bringing his own up and around. You jump back, barely avoiding the blow, and then spin, the tip of your blade slicing through the air. 

He blocks, and the two of you stand, locked together again. Your arms tremble with the strain, and his gaze locks onto yours. 

"You know, I think this is the first time we've spoken in months."

You scoff, pushing him back, and then launch into another attack. "And whose fault is that?"

His blade deflects your blow, and the two of you go back and forth, trading strike for parry, block for counterattack.

"You've been avoiding me," he replies, his tone accusing.

"I'm not," you insist, deflecting a blow and dodging to the side.

"You are," he says, and he strikes at your back. You duck under the swing, and come up behind him, your blade singing as you strike. He darts out of the way, narrowly avoiding the blow, and then turns, bringing his lightsaber up to block. "Ever since Yaddle, you've done nothing but avoid me."

You growl, and the anger flares. "Don't."

He presses his advantage, his blows coming faster, harder, and you're forced on the defensive. You backpedal, trying to put space between the two of you, but his blade is relentless.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges.

"You're wrong," you retort, blocking a particularly vicious blow.

"Then why have you been avoiding me?" he demands. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"And say what?" you say, your voice rising. "We have nothing to say to each other, Obi-Wan!"

He grits his teeth, and then swings again, and the two of you dance across the floor, lightsabers flashing as they clash. The sound echoes off the walls, and the heat from the blades makes the air around you shimmer. You're sweating, and your muscles are burning, but you're not willing to concede. You're not willing to lose.

The anger, the frustration, and the years of hurt and pain boil to the surface, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of the fight. Your limbs are moving of their own accord, your body acting on instinct, and you give in to the emotions, letting them fuel you.

You're not sure how long the two of you fight, but the fatigue is starting to take its toll. Your attacks are slower, your blocks sloppier, and you can tell that Obi-Wan is flagging, as well.

"We used to talk," he says, his voice strained. "What happened?"

"Nothing," you retort. "Everything is fine."

"Nothing is fine!" he yells.

His blade comes down hard, and you block, the impact sending you reeling. He follows up with a series of fast, short strikes, and you're on the back foot, barely keeping up. He's angry, and that makes him reckless, and you can see the opening. You feint left, and then swing low, your lightsaber cutting a path through the air. He ducks, the blade missing him by inches, and then stumbles, his back hitting the wall.

"You're not the only one who lost someone, you know," he pants, his eyes blazing. "You said you would be there for me, and then you shut me out. Why?"

You're seething, and the words pour out before you can stop them.

"Because you didn't understand!" you snap. "You didn't understand how I was feeling, and you didn't try to. You just kept pushing, and pushing, and you never listened!"

"And you were so busy wallowing in your own self-pity that you didn't realize I was hurting, too," he shoots back. "All you could think about was yourself, and what you were going through, and you couldn't even see what was right in front of you!"

You shake your head, and the anger is boiling in your chest, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

"I needed you, Obi-Wan, and you weren't there," you say, the anger making your voice quiver. "I needed you, and you chose the Council, you chose the Jedi, over me. You abandoned me."

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with sadness. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" you ask. "You were my best friend, and you let me down."

"So did you," he says softly.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you step back, your breath leaving you in a rush. He's right. You did let him down, and you have no excuse. You'd been so wrapped up in your own grief, your own pain, that you'd completely missed his, and you've been paying for it ever since.

You're not sure how long the two of you have stood there, the room falling into silence. The anger and the hurt are still there, simmering just below the surface, but it's been tempered by a different kind of pain.

You look at him, and the memories come flooding back. Of the two of you as children, running through the halls of the Temple, getting into trouble, causing mischief. Of the countless hours spent sparring and meditating, working together to hone your skills. Of the late night conversations and whispered secrets, the friendship and the closeness. Of the love.

You'd been so close, once. So inseparable. But now, the chasm between the two of you feels wider than ever, and the bridge is crumbling beneath your feet.

"I felt the darkness in you, that day," Obi-Wan says, his voice low. “And again on Geonosis.”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

"I was upset," you reply. "And I let my emotions get the best of me."

"It's more than that," he insists. "You've changed. You've become angry, and resentful, and those are dangerous emotions to carry with you. Especially now."

You grit your teeth, the frustration building. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know what I've seen," he counters. "I've been watching, and I know there's something going on with you. Something I haven't been able to figure out."

You glare at him, the tension mounting between the two of you. You don't want to argue with him, not anymore, but the way he's looking at you makes your skin crawl. It's almost as if he can see right through you, and it unnerves you.

Your blade raises, the yellow glow casting strange shadows across his face, and you take a deep breath.

"This conversation is over," you say, your tone clipped.

You turn, but he's faster. Obi-Wan’s blade slashes out, catching yours, and you're forced back. You block, and then counter, your lightsabers colliding in a shower of sparks. He pushes you further, his blows coming faster, stronger, and you struggle to keep up.

"You can't run away from this," he says, his tone sharp.

"Watch me," you retort.

He's angry, and frustrated, and it shows in his fighting style. His movements are rough, and he's sloppy, and you're able to keep pace with him, pushing him further and further as he struggles to regain control.

"Just stop!" he shouts.

"No!"

The two of you dance across the floor, your blades flashing in the dim light. You're both tired, and it shows, your movements slowing, and the fatigue wearing at your defenses. You're not sure how much longer you can keep this up, but you can't let him win, and you won't.

Your blade slices through the air, and his lightsaber flashes, deflecting the blow. You lunge, and his blade arcs up, meeting yours.

"Yaddle would want you to move on," he says. "She wouldn't want you to carry this anger with you, this resentment."

"Shut up," you snap, your lightsaber striking his, the sound ringing out through the room. "You don't get to talk about her. You didn't even believe me."

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched. "I know."

His blade flashes, and you dodge, narrowly avoiding the strike.

"You said she was murdered, and I didn't listen," he continues. "And for that, I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough," you say.

"I know," he replies sadly. "But we have a chance to make a difference, now. To do what Yaddle would have wanted."

Your blade clashes with his, the impact sending a shiver down your spine. You're tired, and sore, and you can feel the ache settling into your muscles, but something inside you compels you to keep going.

"She would want me to find her killer, and bring them to justice," you say, the words coming out in a rush. 

You launch into a series of rapid-fire attacks, pouring every bit of your energy into the assault. You're desperate, and furious, and the emotions are boiling inside you, threatening to overwhelm.

Obi-Wan blocks, and counters, but he's tiring, and he's not quick enough. He stumbles, and you seize the opportunity, your blade coming down in a powerful swing that sends him sprawling. He hits the ground, hard, and his lightsaber clatters to the floor, the blade deactivating. You stand over him, your blade humming and his eyes wide with shock.

You’ve never been able to best him before, and the knowledge is satisfying. You raise your lightsaber, the blade poised to strike, and then stop, your hand trembling. You could do it. You could end this, right here, right now. You could end the conflict, and the fighting, and the tension.

You could end it all.

"And then what?" Obi-Wan asks, his voice hoarse.

You look down at him, and his gaze locks onto yours. He's not afraid, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes. Sadness? Resignation?

You hesitate, your blade poised inches from his chest. "What?"

"Then what?" he repeats. "Once you find her killer, what will you do? Kill them?"

You recoil, as if struck. The realization of what you're about to do, of what you've almost done, hits you, and the anger is replaced by a fear so deep and so primal that it makes your bones ache.

You're horrified, and ashamed.

"No," you whisper. "No, of course not."

"Really?" he asks. He's looking at you with a mix of surprise and disappointment, and you know that he doesn't believe you. 

"No, I..." You shake your head, and the blade wavers, your grip faltering. You're not sure what's worse: the idea that he thinks you're capable of such a thing, or the fact that part of you actually considered it. "You know me better than that."

"I thought I did," he replies, softly.

"I would never do that," you say, and the words come out as a plea. "You know that."

"How can I believe that, when I don't even know who you are anymore?" he asks, his eyes never leaving yours, and the words are like a dagger to your heart. "When you've hidden so much from me?"

You flinch, the truth of his words cutting you to the bone.

You've shut him out, and pushed him away, and it's not just the anger and the resentment. It's because you've been afraid, and ashamed, and you couldn't bear the thought of him seeing you for who you really are. For who you've become.

But now, the mask is slipping, and the façade is cracking, and you can't hide any longer.

You lower your blade, the anger draining from you, and the weight of everything crashes down on you.

"I don't know," you admit. "I...I don't know." 

"I can feel it now, the darkness in you, your anger," he says. "The others may be blind to it, but I'm not. It's like a shadow around you, and it's growing stronger by the day."

You look away, the shame and the guilt washing over you. You don't know what's wrong with you, or why you're so angry all the time. All you know is that it's getting harder and harder to control, and you're terrified of what it might mean.

Your lightsaber falls from your hand, the blade deactivating as it hits the floor. It rolls away and then comes to a stop, the hilt resting against the wall. You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you fight them back, willing yourself not to cry.

“What if you're wrong? What if it's not darkness, what if it's just me?" You turn and look at him, the emotions bubbling to the surface, and your voice breaks. "What if it's always been me?"

He sits up, his brow furrowed, and his gaze is soft, but intent.

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I've always been different," you say, the words coming out in a rush. “You said so yourself. I was never able to meditate properly, or to find balance. I've always had trouble with my emotions, and now, I can't seem to control them, no matter how hard I try."

You feel the tears spilling down your cheeks, and you wipe them away, angrily. “What if this is who I really am, Obi-Wan? What if I’m not meant to be a Jedi?"

You're afraid to look at him, to see the disappointment and the disgust in his eyes as he rises to his feet. But his arms wrap around you, his hand stroking your hair, and the warmth of his body seeps into your bones, soothing the ache that has taken root. You rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes closed, and the tears finally fall, hot and heavy. 

"Don't say that," he murmurs. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're just...different. Unique. It's one of the things I've always loved about you."

You snort, but his words strike a chord, and the tension starts to bleed from your body.

"I mean it," he says. "You have a strength, a passion, that most Jedi lack. And that's not a bad thing. It's just something to be mindful of, to be careful with."

You nod, and he pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders. He searches your face, his gaze lingering on your cheeks, and his thumb brushes the tear tracks, wiping them away.

"You're a good person," Obi-Wan says, his voice gentle. "No matter what happens, or what you may feel, I will always believe that. But I think it's important for you to understand, and to acknowledge, that the path you're on isn't one that's easily walked."

He reaches down, and his fingers brush the hilt of your lightsaber. He picks it up, his eyes never leaving yours, and then slowly, deliberately, offers it to you.

"The choice is yours in the end. But no matter what you choose, I will be here. I will always be here."

You take the lightsaber, and then his hand, and the two of you hold there for a moment, the air still and silent around you. The tears are drying, and the ache in your chest is starting to fade, the anger and the hurt slowly melting away.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Of course," he says. He offers you a small smile. “And truth be told, I’m not sure I could bear it if you left. I...I think I would miss you, terribly."

"I would, too," you admit.

You squeeze his hand, and he returns the gesture. The bond between the two of you, the frayed remnants of a connection long since lost, stirs to life. The emotions that swirl through it are complicated, the tangled threads of years of pain and loss and longing weaving together into something new, something deeper.

And for the first time, the idea of rebuilding it, of trying again, doesn't seem so impossible.

You wrap your arms around him, and he does the same, the two of you standing there, your foreheads touching. You can feel the exhaustion in him, the fatigue from the sparring match, and you can tell he's feeling the same from you. The feedback loop of emotions is confusing, but it's also reassuring, and you find yourself leaning into it.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I know," he replies.

"I shouldn't have said the things I did," you continue. "I don't want to be angry. I just...I miss her. I miss her so much."

"I know," he repeats. "We all do. She was a great woman, a great Jedi, and her loss was a tragedy."

You nod, and he pulls back, his eyes searching yours.

"You know, she always believed in you," he says, softly. "She knew you would make a difference. That you would be one of the best."

"That's a lot to live up to," you murmur.

"Yes, it is," he agrees. "But I think she knew you would be able to handle it."

"I hope so," you say. "I really, really hope so."

Obi-Wan smiles, and the expression is so genuine, so kind, that it takes your breath away.

"I know so," he says, his voice firm.

You look away, your cheeks flushing, and you can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. It's the first time he's smiled at you in years, and the familiarity, the comfort, of it warms you to your core.

You turn to him, the words coming out before you can stop them. "Do you think we can still fix this? Us, I mean?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But I'm willing to try, if you are."

You nod, and he pulls you closer, the two of you standing there, holding each other, as the shadows lengthen and the evening draws in. It's been a long time since the two of you have been so close, and the ache in your heart is tempered by the joy, the happiness, of having him back. Of knowing that there's still a chance, a glimmer of hope, that things might be okay, in the end.

"I nearly forgot," Obi-Wan begins as he pulls away, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. "I have something for you."

You tilt your head, confused.

"For me?" you ask. "What is it?"

He chuckles, and then he turns to unfold the bundle of his robes. A familiar, glinting metal catches your eye, and your gaze is drawn to the hilt of a lightsaber, the gold and chrome finish gleaming in the dim light.

You beam at the sight of your shoto, the one you loaned to Obi-Wan on Geonosis. You'd completely forgotten about it.

"I thought you might want this back," he says, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I was going to return it sooner, but, well..."

"Thank you," you say, and you can't keep the giddiness out of your voice.

You take the hilt from his hands, and the weight of it is comforting, the metal cool against your palm. It feels like home, like coming full circle, and you can't help the rush of gratitude and affection that flows through you.

"It's a good blade," Obi-Wan continues, watching you closely. “Perhaps not one worth nearly dying over, but good all the same.”

You scoff as you clip the weapon to your belt, the familiarity of it making you smile.

"You’re never going to let that go, are you?"

"I'm afraid not," he says, grinning. "That was a rather dramatic stunt you pulled, after all. You were lucky I was there to catch you before you fell."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you at his words. They feel truer now than they’d ever been.

“Yes, I suppose I was,” you admit, your voice soft.

Obi-Wan nods, and you look away, the emotion in his eyes suddenly too much.

"In any case, thank you," you say. "For keeping it safe, and for giving it back. It means a lot."

He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful.

"You're welcome," he says, quietly.

He pauses, and you can tell there's something he wants to say, but he hesitates, the words catching in his throat.

You wait, patiently, and then, after a moment, he speaks.

"I want you to know, that if there is anything you need, anything at all, you can come to me," he says. His tone is earnest, and his gaze is steady. "I know we have a lot to work through, a lot of old wounds to heal, but I am here for you, always. No matter what."

The words hit you square in the chest, and the tears are threatening again. You take a deep breath, and then look up, your eyes locking with his.

"I know," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "And I want you to know, the same goes for you. Whatever happens, whatever you need, I'm here for you. Always."

He smiles, and the relief is clear on his face.

"Thank you," he says, the words carrying a weight that you understand all too well. He moves back to collect his robes and yours, helping you slip them back on.

Once they're settled on your shoulders, the warmth and comfort of the fabric easing the last bit of tension, the two of you stand facing each other. The moment hangs in the still air, neither of you willing to move, to break the spell. It's not the awkward, uncomfortable silence that has plagued your relationship these past few years, but a peaceful one. It's a start.

"Come,” he says after a moment, placing a hand on your shoulder and steering you toward the door. “I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

“That’s not necessary—“

"It is," he says, firmly. "I have no intention of letting you out of my sight, at least not tonight."

You glance at him, your eyebrow raised, and his cheeks flush, the words registering a beat too late.

"Oh, I mean—"

You burst out laughing, and the sound fills the room. He looks at you, bewildered, and then, to your surprise, starts to laugh, as well. The two of you stand there, giggling like a pair of children, and it feels like the weight that's been pressing down on you, on both of you, has finally lifted.

It's a good start, and the hope of more to come is enough to warm you from the inside

"Well, I wouldn't mind the company," you say at last, still smiling.

"Good," he replies, and the two of you walk side-by-side, your shoulders brushing. "Someone needs to make sure you actually get some rest, and you don't go wandering off again. You look dreadful."

"Hey," you say, swatting his arm. "That's not very nice."

"Only speaking the truth," he teases.

"Well, if you're going to be like that," you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile as you cross your arms over your chest, "then I'm not sure I want to go anywhere with you."

"Too late," he says, and his hand slips to your back, pushing you gently forward. "You're stuck with me."

The two of you walk the hallways of the Temple, the silence between you comfortable, and familiar. As you walk, you feel the heaviness in your heart lifting, and the darkness in the Force retreating. For the first time in a long time, you feel at peace.

You glance over at Obi-Wan, his profile bathed in the dim light, his hair glowing in the soft radiance. He smiles down at you, and your heart swells with warmth.

"Thank you," you say. The words aren't enough, but they're all you can say.

"Anytime," he says, and his arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

You lean into his warmth, and as the two of you walk, the halls of the Temple a familiar, comforting sight, you realize that, no matter what happens, no matter what trials and tribulations await, you're not alone.

You have a family.

And nothing will ever change that.

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[phantom-of-the-501st]

The Evolution of an Echo

Okay well I wasn't planning on doing this now but I decided to strike while the iron is hot and have now started writing a full on character essay at *checks watch* 22:06

But despite his limited screen time, I really love how Echo has been portrayed this season and I really want to have a look at his character evolution over the course of The Bad Batch and how he compares now to who we were first introduced to in The Clone Wars.

Steph waffle about Echo coming up down below! 🧇

@saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings

So I feel like the main thing we see with Echo is that he generally has more confidence now than he did before. Don't get me wrong, he still had confidence in a combat situation and was not afraid to throw himself into the action if it meant he could help people (self-preservation who?), but he seems to have become more comfortable with being himself, like he's properly found his own identity.

And I think that that is interesting considering what Echo has gone through. Personality-wise (and looks-wise), he is very different to who he once was but he still feels like Echo. We haven't lost him, he's just become more aware of what makes Echo Echo. Because when he was first given the name, he hated it. He didn't like being called that because it stemmed from people teasing him about his habit of repeating orders. While there wasn't any true malicious intent (the Dominoes were his brothers after all), Echo ended up being the target of "bullying" during his early years in the GAR. He was a rule follower and believed that things had to be done by the book for a reason. But that resulted in him getting teased a lot and I don't think he ever truly built up the same level of confidence as some of his other batchmates. And for him, that name probably suggested that everything that made up his identity, everything that made him him, was that name and how it stemmed from his belief that rules were made to be followed. His identity was in some way intrinsically tied to his name.

However, over time we saw that he came to fully embrace the name ("is there and Echo in here?") and over the course of the last couple of seasons, have really begun to see Echo fully living up to his potential, no longer tying himself to the "rule-follower" identity that he had carried with him for so long. Because what happened to him on Skako Minor fundamentally changed who he was: not just physically, but personally as well. He had to navigate being a new person and that meant finding himself again, even if the person he found was not the one he was expecting. And remember that at this point, all of his batchmates are gone; the people who gave him the name that summed up his personality are gone. The Batch don't know the old Echo and in some ways that probably helped him find himself. There was no expectation from them for him to go back to who he was before because they don't know that side of him. It gave Echo the space to breath and I feel like in some ways there was less of a pressure for him to try and go back to who he was.

Now that's not to say that the old Echo isn't still there in some ways. When he first ran with the Batch, he didn't quite have the same level of chaos as them, didn't really have the same way of going about things. And that never fully went away. Look at the way he challenged Hunter in season 2: he didn't instantly fall into doing things that Batch's way, but still held onto his own beliefs. But that confrontation did show a build in confidence. Echo became much more confident in standing up for himself, for doing what he believed even if that wasn't how everyone else wanted to do it. And so much of that stems from what he went through. Echo has been through hell, and if he can prevent that from happening to other people, then he will, even if it means disagreeing with his brothers.

One thing that has stood out to me is how Echo has begun to accept that where he belongs isn't always in one spot. And I imagine that this was something that had never really occurred to him much until this point because he'd only ever really been in one place: with his batch. I mean, they spent rotation after rotation after rotation together on the Rishi Moon. Echo never really had to deal with change until his brothers died. Then he found the 501st and that's when Echo began to adapt to shifts. He was in new places, with new jobs, but he always had one constant: Fives. And yet, following his rescue, that constant was gone. The place that had once felt like home to Echo now didn't feel like that anymore because it wasn't what he remembered. It's why he went with the Batch.

And I think this change was crucial in building the Echo we see today. It was a point in which he learned that home didn't mean one place. And sometimes it didn't even mean the same people. Home is simply where one feels like they belong, and for Echo that isn't always the same spot. It's where he feels like he can truly be himself and for him that means being in a position where he can help people. Whether that be with the 501st, or the Batch, or the Rebellion, Echo has learned to find a place in wherever he feels he needs to be. And that's why he's become so confident: because he has found where he belongs and what truly makes Echo Echo.

So we can look at Echo now and see the change. But we can still see the old him there - the drive to do the right thing, the protectiveness he holds for those he cares about, and the incredibly stressful habit of always putting himself in harms way in order to get things done - but he's embraced it more than ever before. While his screen time has been short this season, what we've seen from Echo is the perfect demonstration of why he was made an ARC and why he has always been so amazing. He is an incredibly talented soldier and now that he's found his calling, he's flourishing. He's embracing the change and he's taking everything in his stride. He's a good leader, a competent soldier, an incredible tactician, and a genuinely nice person who cares about the wellbeing of the people around him. Echo has come out of his shell and truly flourished and it's amazing to see.

And his humour has come back as well! One of the things that was often pointed out was how Echo's jokey side had kind of faded while he was with the Batch and yet over the last season it's come out in full force. Echo finding his confidence has also made him snarkier and bitchier in the best way possible. He knows what he wants and he isn't going to put up with anyone's bs. And what I love even more is how much the Batch have embraced him. They trust him now more than ever; he's their brother and they respect his drive and support him, even if it isn't the path they wanted to take themselves.

Now Echo still has his struggles, he isn't perfect. He can still be overly blunt sometimes, and he still has his vulnerabilities ("I don't enjoy solitude") but they don't make him weak. In fact Echo is stronger than ever and embracing who he is even more. And we can see where his growth has been influenced by those around him; the soft side that has become stronger after caring for Omega and the complete and utter chaos stemming from Fives and the Batch for example.

And you know what, Echo is a fitting name. Not because he repeated orders, but because in everything he does, and everything he proves himself to be, you can see the echoes of his past, who he was, who he's known and who he grew to be.

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

🥹 ngl i keep running back to your page, and i finally followed bc i keep forgetting, but like…

do you have more of that clone witness protection program? i just reread them AND THE THORN ONE, and i just- i gotta know au wise. How does everyone react to finding out what Fox did and what it cost him (ie. him saving Fives unintentionally got Thorn killed)

So if anyone wants to read on it, this post has all the parts linked

And love that you enjoyed the AU!! It’s one of my favorites so to hear you kept up with it makes me happy 🥹

This take is interesting to think about - honestly if we want to go this route, including all the parts above, they would found out more towards the end of the war (the beginning of the finale with Sidious)

And it goes like this

Cody has lost faith in the Republic way before Rex “died” but now he’s determined to do something about it. He has gathered all the CCs together, plus the Corrie CCs except for Fox (not that Cody didn’t invite him but he has a different mission for him and his vod’ika and also Fox couldn’t make it so he sent Stone and Thire instead), and lets them know his decision and plan to cease from Republic forces

“I’m taking my men out.”

Shock was heard in the empty silence. Bacara is the first to speak. “What about the Jedi?”

Cody shakes his head. “Whoever I grab is going with me.”

“You can’t take them all.” Neyo’s stare is hard, unyielding. Cody stares back.

“With Kenobi and Skywalker gone, the rest will follow.”

Ponds huffs out a laugh. Cody slants him a look when he bangs his hand on the table. “Count me in. Windu and I are down for a little … mutiny.” His grin is wide, fearless.

Thire taps his comm. “if you can get us a Venator, I can let Vos know to retrieve the Jedi at the Temple.”

Bly stands up, his seat clattering behind him. “Aayla and I can help with that.” He ignores the small “it’s Aayla now, is it?” behind his back. “They won’t want to leave their home without a reason.” He speaks before Cody can get any words out of his open mouth. “A solid, logical reason. You wanting to find Rex-”

“That’s not the reason I’m leaving.”

“Isn’t it?” Heads turn towards the new voice. Fox enters the small room with barely a sound, footsteps silent in his path towards his Ori’vod. “I mean,” and he chuckles harsh. “Why leave now? Why not when your General died? Or your men were ambushed? Or perhaps after Umbara when they shot each other?”

Cody grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face. His expression turns smooth a second later but every CC saw it. “Don’t talk about the war like you understand it.”

Fox tilts his head, almost offended at the implied statement. He however lets it go in pursuit of his other point. “You never cared before-”

“I always cared.”

“Until Rex’ika-”

“You have no right to call him that.”

“-went and got himself killed.”

Fox rolls with the impact Cody throws at him. His hands clutch his brother’s blacks in an awful attempt at a hug. Cody however has one hand around his neck, ready to snap. His other yanks at the chest armor, pulling Fox up just a breath. “Don’t talk about him that way.”

Fox doesn’t speak, hardly dares to breath in the face of his brother’s wrath. “Leave,” he commands to the room.

The CCs watch but don’t move until Cody yells out. “GET OUT!”

Wolffe is the first to move. Pats Cody’s back on his way out. “Don’t kill him, Vod.” Fox rolls his eyes at the unhelpful comment.

The other CCs follow him out until it’s just them. Even Thire and Stone, who passed glances at him, left.

Cody is breathing hard, his panting harsh in the room. Fox feels his hand curl against his neck and thinks how pathetic.

“Get off,” he demands and Cody snarls. Fox’ eyes flash in anger and he snarls right back.

It leads to them wrestling, Cody losing his grip on his neck and instead trying to break the bones in his arm. Fox bites at the forearm near his mouth, and tastes a hint of iron. They scratch and hit and wrestle and the anger that came from Thorn’s death leave Fox, slowly but surely. His grief replaces it fast, as does his guilt when he sees tears in Cody’s eyes.

Would Cody act this way if Fox died? Would Fox if Thorn hadn’t?

Fox finds himself hugging his Ori’vod as he sobs at the loss of Rex. Great, wracking sobs that Fox himself wishes to return. He licks his lips and shares a piece of grief. “Thorn is dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Cody mutters through stuttered breathing.

Fox however decides that it’s enough to start the conversation. “He believed in the Protection Program. Saved many Vod cause of it.” Cody listens intently, his cries mingling into silence. “Fives needed to live. We both knew that.” He hesitates before stating his opinion. “I won’t make his death go in vain by hiding.”

Cody pushes off his brother, stares up at the ceiling above them. He taps his fingers once, twice, before asking, “would Rex-”

“He’s not in it,” Fox lies through his teeth and hates the guilt that rising at it. Cody can’t know. Not yet.

It would just cause more trouble, and potentially Rex’s death. Fox can’t allow that right now. Not when Cody isn’t thinking clearly.

Cody stays silent. The moments creep by and Fox’s heart beats faster. He wonders if his Ori’vod can see through his lies.

Cody’s words break his anxiety process. “Then we kill Palpatine.” He says it nonchalantly, in response to their previous conversation.

Fox’ lips twitch. His chest hitches. And then he’s laughing before he can think. Cody turns his head, joins in when he realizes they aren’t laughing for fun.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 10

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet, Sinker, Boost, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Author's Note: Things are still crazy right now, but I am managing. Thank you to everyone who has reached out. I appreciate it! This is another transitional chapter. Not much happens, other than the plot moving forward. You know, the meaning of "filler episode" really changes when you write 😅 The chapter isn't exciting or emotional, but it's still important to the overall plot and contains context for future chapters. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

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The ride over to the Jedi Temple was quiet once Cara settled on Wolffe's lap. Most children lulled to sleep by the hum of a moving ship or speeder, and Cara was no exception. Wolffe didn't mind, though. He preferred her to be asleep and peaceful than awake and chaotic. She'd been through enough already, and yet, the tragedy was nowhere near over. Not by a long shot. Deep down he knew the funeral was going to rip off every bandage he and the others had meticulously placed.

They could lie, dance around the truth, replace facts with illusion, and carefully craft misdirection, but at the end of the day, they couldn't hide it forever. The pain was painted across all of their faces. A grim truth they all knew but refused to acknowledge, even by Wolffe. No one wanted to speak it aloud for fear that maybe, just maybe, if they didn't say it, it wouldn't happen. But while trying to conceal it from Cara, they had disillusioned themselves with their own blank stares and frowns.

Wolffe gazed out the window and watched as other speeders flew by, lost in his thoughts about the future. Not many clones thought about the future, because it wasn't in their brain chemistry to look beyond anything other than their immediate present, but that changed for Wolffe after he met his wife. There was a moment where it felt like he unlocked a part of his brain. The part that wanted to survive and thrive, instead of fight and die. It was a fleeting feeling, but there nonetheless.

He was wondering, not only about the funeral, but about what came after the funeral. What would he do when he received a new assignment? He couldn't stay on Coruscant forever. No clone could. Wolffe scoffed at his own thoughts and corrected himself. Actually, the only clones who could stay on Coruscant forever were the Coruscant Guard. Wolffe thought they were lucky, even if they didn't think they were. Fox would kill to be back on the battlefield in any capacity, and Wolffe would trade his command with Fox’s in a heartbeat.

However, Fox had his own life to lead and his own things to worry about on Coruscant. That was just how life was for the clones. It was a luck of the draw in who got to be a commander and who got to be stationed where. To the Republic, all clones were the same, so to them, it wouldn't matter what clones went where, but to the clones, sometimes, it did matter. Clones who hadn't been around long enough didn't understand, and those who had, didn't live long enough after they found out.

Wolffe was pulled from his thoughts when the speeder braked as they arrived at the Jedi Temple. He peered out of the window at the towering structure and breathed deep as he felt his heart rate increase. He had never been enthralled with the Jedi like other clones; finding their religion strange and their battle tactics even stranger. Perhaps it was the deep-seeded Mandalorian genes coursing through his veins that made him wary of the so-called peacekeepers, even if Rex and Cody tried to convince him otherwise.

The only Jedi Wolffe remotely liked, or even cared about, was his own. General Plo Koon saved him, Boost's, and Sinker's lives, and for that he owed him his undying loyalty. The rest of them he disregarded. He served them as he should, like any good soldier who followed orders, but that didn't mean he had to like them or worship them. It was the Jedi that caused him to lose his first battalion, even though he alone received the demerits for it, much to his general's chagrin.

To stand at the precipice of the Jedi Temple, with the intent to leave his beloved daughter in the care of those Force-wielding wizards, that weren't his general, made his skin crawl. Even with his disdain for the Jedi, it was still better than the alternative of Cara entering the foster care system, or even worse, being left in the care of her grandparents. That thought alone made Wolffe sick. At least with this arrangement, he could come and go within the Jedi Temple without explanation.

"Do you want to put your armor on?" Comet asked from across Wolffe.

Wolffe moved his gaze from the window to look down at Cara, who was still asleep on his lap, and then up at Comet. "Whenever I put my armor on, she thinks I'm leaving."

"Understood," Comet nodded. "I'll have Aug– Warthog bring it to your new quarters."

Wolffe chuckled.

"I'll grab a box," Sinker said as he exited the speeder.

"I'll grab the other box," Boost said as he also exited the speeder.

Comet, Cara, and Wolffe were soon left alone in the speeder and Wolffe wasn't too keen on moving from his spot. The hesitation wasn't lost on Comet.

"You really don't want to do this, do you?" Comet asked.

"Would you?" Wolffe retorted, his disdain bleeding through. "Would you leave your kid with strangers? With Jedi?"

"It's not that bad," Comet said.

Wolffe huffed and looked back out of the window. "You'll never understand."

"Guess not," Comet sighed. "I'll probably die before I fall in love and have a kid like you did."

Wolffe snapped his eyes back to Comet and glared at him. "Don't get insubordinate with me, Corporal."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Commander," Comet said before leaving the speeder.

Wolffe tilted his head back against the top of the seat and groaned. He was such an idiot. Even after everything Comet did for him following his wife's death, everything he did for Cara, Wolffe still had the audacity to bite at him like he was some random shiny that stepped out of line. Pathetic. At least he continued to live up to his namesake, whether he was proud of it or not, because when a wolf is cornered, it will lash out. He needed to get his fears, anxieties, and his temper under control, and sooner rather than later.

"Daddy?" Cara said sleepily as she stirred on his lap.

Wolffe tilted his head back down and smiled. "Hi, baby."

Cara whined. "I wanna sleep."

Wolffe picked her up so she was sitting on his legs instead of laying on them, much to her protest. "Not yet. We need to get settled in our new room first, then you can have a nap."

Cara whined and wriggled uncomfortably against Wolffe as he moved along the seat towards the speeder door.

"I know," Wolffe soothed as he exited the speeder and sat her on his hip. "Daddy wants a nap too, but can you stay awake for me for a little longer?"

Cara groaned and moved restlessly in Wolffe's grasp.

"Close enough," Wolffe sighed.

Wolffe carried Cara towards the edge of the stairway leading up to the Jedi Temple, where his general and men were waiting for him. He gripped her tightly in his arms, afraid that at any moment someone was going to rip her out of his arms and he'd never see her again. It wasn't an entirely irrational fear. The Jedi took children away from their parents all of the time. What made his daughter so different from those children? What if he left her here and never got her back?

"Calm yourself, Commander," Plo said when he sensed Wolffe's trepidation through the Force. "There are no enemies within these walls, only the enemies we bring in from within ourselves."

Wolffe heeded his general's words of wisdom and steadied himself. He stared up at the daunting, durastone stairway, took a deep breath, then released it slowly. He was as ready as he would ever be, and he hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet. Nevertheless, he stepped forward, and his men stepped forward with him in solidarity. A silent march up the Jedi Temple steps towards a new normal. A terrifying new normal, for both him and Cara, but this was only the beginning of it.

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[willowser]

you find pro-hero touya naked on the sidewalk.

face down, ass up, and completely unmoving; it's a little after 5 in the morning, which is maybe why no one has found him or offered him any clothes. or finished him off.

it's nearly december, but all the ice around him has melted into a slick and dangerous sludge, and snowflakes are sizzling when they make contact with his back. skin a tender pink and baby-smooth; another reason you know he's still alive, aside from all the heat he's generating on such a frozen morning.

"hey," you nudge him lightly with the toe of your boot until he grunts and begins to stir. "i don't know how your quirk works, but laying in the cold like this can't be good for you."

some kind of nonsense noise fumbles out of his mouth as he squints up at you, frown etched so deep that it looks like it hurts. it almost feels like he's mega-wasted and is burning off a hangover, but you squat next to him and don't smell alcohol or weed or vomit or even nicotine. just ash, as the early morning wind stings the inside of your nose.

"c'mon man," you scoff when he turns his back to you, like a teenager not ready to get out of bed. "don't make me leave you out here."

pro-hero touya has tattoos everywhere — or at least in his most visible spots, with his costume. piercings, you're not so sure about; the last time you saw his face up close on a big screen, he might have had a vertical bar through his lip and several in his ears, but you vaguely remember a tabloid article about him almost getting his mouth ripped off during a high-speed chase. you know there's something though, a bunch of metal in his face and head.

this touya has nothing. none of it; born fresh right here, in the muck and the ice.

of course the first thing you think is: clone-touya.

some evil ne'er-do-well has obtained pieces of his dna and is trying to create a super weapon to destroy the city, and in a cruel twist of fate, you get to be the one that finds him. responsible, suddenly, for the could-be end of the world. least you can do is offer him your coat.

you try again at nudging him, with the side of your foot this time so as to put more weight into it, and, surprisingly, he complies rather easily, rolling completely over until he's flat on his back. exposed and bare to the elements.

"whoa," you mutter, eyes shooting up to the windows of the department store he's in front of. trying, at least, to offer him the small courtesy. "you're gonna get a public indecency charge at this point."

this is not the first time you've seen pro-hero touya's dick against your will; two years ago, some sex tape he made leaked and your co-worker was so excited to have it in her possession that it had been shoved into your face, sound and all, in the middle of your shift. there had been metal there, too, but this clone-touya is brand spanking new.

only one of his eyes is cracked open, a thin sliver of his icy blues peeking at you through a veil of snow-heavy lashes. something about him sprawled out on the concrete like a sloppy angel makes your heart squeeze, even if you don't particularly care much for him or his heroics.

"alright," you sigh, shrugging out of your coat to drape over his hips. "don't move, i guess."

it's lucky that he's half-alive right outside your job; in the following twenty minutes, you use your key to get back into the building and pick out a simple set of clothes from the men's section that you'll deduct from your paycheck later. when you come out of the back to find him again, he's at least pushed himself up into a sitting position and is coming to against the wall. in his lap, your fluffy jacket is damp and soggy and drooping and now useless.

if someone would have ever told you that one day you'd be here, helping to dress pro-hero touya like a toddler out of the bath, you — don't know what you would have said. laughed, maybe, eyebrows raised, totally lost. you feel much the same now.

a creeping unease has started at the base of your spine at his silence. finally dressed, he simply watches you, hazy, with half-lidded eyes, and you don't know what you're expecting from someone like him, but the cold shoulder is not it. it sucks that he's actually handsome because you didn't think you were the type of person to get caught up in him, but — all his features are sharp, like they've been carved by careful hands.

shorter in person, and, funny enough, that gives you the confidence to poke him in the cheek, like a brat.

"you okay in there?"

pro-hero touya doesn't retaliate to your impishness — which furthers your concern — only swallows and smacks his lips, squinting into the coming day as it dawns.

you take that as a no.

when you loop your arm through his, he lets you, and offers no objection to being led down the sidewalk. he's — warm, which you knew, but winter is sinking through your thin sweater and the plethora of heat rolling off him nearly has you purring. easy to sink in to, to your surprise, more than pliable in this fugue state.

there's a breakfast place not far from the department store and you think maybe he just needs to eat, or something. drink some water. you've been up since late last night with inventory and the thought of a fat stack of syrupy, buttermilk pancakes is motivation enough to hurry him along.

this early, there are very few people out to gawk at him on the street and you're glad for it, because you don't know how you'd explain this to your coworker if you were to end up in some tabloid. the most attention he garners is when you wrench open the doors to the cafe, and even then, the overtired, middle-aged woman just chews her gum and gestures to a table at the back.

when she brings water, you order a breakfast plate for him and yourself, and the first thing clone-touya says to you, after she's gone, is:

"i don't like pork."

you try not to make a big deal about him finally joining you in the physical world, settling for a shrug. "then don't eat it."

he snorts, still a little disjointed as he stares at the fading pattern of your table. you watch him take it all in: the salt and pepper shakers, the napkin container, the dead flies in the window pane, his tall, sweating glass.

all at once, he drinks it down so fast that some of it slips from the corners of his lips and down his chin, and when he wipes a limp hand across his mouth, you just scoot your glass across to him. and he does it all over again.

despite the weather, he wets a hand to run over his face. "what day is it?"

"thursday."

for some reason, he laughs once. huffy and short, scratchy. with a shake of his head, he turns towards the window, leaning into it like he needs to remember where he's at.

you don't think he is, but you still ask: "y'okay?"

his eyes cut to you, alive, and he considers you for a long moment. "you know who i am?"

you shrug, unable to tell if he's asking because he doesn't know, or if this is some kind of intimidation tactic. "think so." and then when he doesn't respond immediately, you tack on: "don't look right, though."

it makes him laugh, sharp and sudden. "yeah, right?" he shoves up his sleeves to trace the bare skin of his arms, rubbing his thumb over his wrist before making crescents with his nails. clone-touya goes silent again, and he doesn't look up until the food arrives.

before he can complain, you snatch the pork sausage off his plate and the quick action brings him back to the physical world again. back to the table and back to you.

he smiles like a ghost, mouth haunted on the pale, untouched skin of his face. "i have to work really hard at keeping my temperature regulated, or else my quirk will just—" he shrugs before downing another glass of water. when he finishes, he wipes a hand over his mouth, sloppy, and then takes an over-large bite of his pancakes. "eat me up."

you — don't really know what to say. this isn't a conversation topic you ever expected to have with him, not that you ever could have expected one to begin with, but you think he might just be — talking. to you, sure, but not to be polite.

"and if i just keep going and going and going," he speaks with food in his cheeks, and you're a little surprised at how bad his table manners are. but maybe he's just really hungry. "it'll just incinerate me into nothing."

so casually he says it, eyes far out the window, trained on the day as it wakes. you want to say that your clone theory is really coming together — how could he know all that, if he didn't actually incinerate himself into nothing? — but you take in his inkless arms and unpunctured nose and your stomach twists.

"so...then what?" when you speak up, his eyes cut across the table again, expression unchanged. his answer is a lazy gesture to himself with his fork. "you just...come back?"

"good news is," he laughs, insincere, "if i get a tattoo and hate it, i can just start all over again."

you don't know how to feel about that — well, you do, but you think your pity will only annoy him, so you say, "sounds like a waste of money."

clone-touya shrugs and you can see the food get caught in his throat, too large of a bite that has him stealing your water again. "got enough of it."

“your time, then?”

he doesn’t bother to look at you, as he shake his head; it feels rude, like some sort of dismissal. “what’s that fuckin’ matter?”

“okay,” you grit your teeth as he chews on your ice, and try to remember your own manners. maybe he’s grouchy because he just woke up from some kind of ash-nap. “what are you gaining from it?”

and that — has his jaw stilling, nostrils flaring as he finally, finally takes you in. whatever he finds in your face isn’t enough, and you’re reminded, again, that you really aren’t a big fan of this guy. he leans close as he whispers, “you wouldn’t get it.”

and you lean in just as close. “so explain it to me then.”

against the nearly empty plate, his cutlery sings when he drops it, suddenly. with food still stuffed into one side of his cheeks, he sits back in the booth and crosses his arms. childishly, you feel like you’ve won something, and your smile makes his eyes narrow.

“and who are you, anyway? some civilian?” clone-touya — or real, angry touya; you’re not sure anymore — doesn’t bother to keep his voice down, not even when the only other table in the cafe turns to look at him. “y’wanna know what it’s like to be daddy’s prized possession? fine. how much time you got?”

you shrug, crossing your arms as you lean into the table. hugging yourself, making yourself warm against the frost outside, and in his eyes. “what’s that matter?”

[jbk405]

I think I've found one of the key reasons why I prefer the old Expanded Universe to the current Star Wars content: Unique types of villains.

More specifically, people who weren't just Evil Force Users With Long Robes And Red Lightsabers. While there were always a few Darth Vader-clones that popped up to fill up space, so many of the Arc Villains were distinct not just in personality, but also how they were dangerous.

Grand Admiral Thrawn was a military tactician, which wasn't the point of any of the main villains in the Original Trilogy. Grand Moff Tarkin was a "Build a bigger superweapon and bludgeon the galaxy into submission" kind of villain, and Vader and the Emperor were mystical dark wizards. This isn't a complaint or criticism, but just pointing out that military tactics were never on display in the films since that wasn't the type of story they were telling. But Thrawn didn't have prophetic powers or Destiny, he had to analyze and plan around what he could learn about his adversaries. It's a different type of fight than Literal Magic. In the original Thrawn Trilogy, Captain Pellaeon frequently internally narrates how different Thrawn's style of leadership was to either Vader or the Emperor (Even if his art-analysis did verge on magic by itself).

Ysanne Isard was a political and/or espionage manipulator, which was even less a point of the Original Trilogy than military tactics were. She took advantage of the realities of actually needing to build a nation out of an underground military movement. With all of the dirty gutter politics, self-serving agendas, and logistics that doom so many revolutionary movements. I'm not as big a fan of her arc as I was when I was younger (I re-read the Rogue Squadron novels a few years ago and the writing quality is not as good as I remember, and Isard's plans frankly don't hold a lot of water), but the concept is still fantastic.

Warlord Zsinj on the surface seems like a merger of Thrawn and Isard -- he's a military commander who specializes in espionage -- but he also has a big focus that neither of them demonstrated: Business. While he still blows stuff up with his giant space ships and is sowing dissent through brainwashing and spycraft, he's simultaneously establishing a galaxy-wide network of completely-legitimate commercial businesses that he owns through untraceable pseudonyms. They fund his campaigns, give him influence on planets outside of his direct control, and allow him to control resources without any of his adversaries even being aware of it.

Even one-shot enemies like the Ssi-ruuk were so unique: They're invading the galaxy because their technology is powered by living souls and they want to harvest all life in the galaxy. That's messed up, and so distinct from the general "Take over the world" motivation of the Empire.

But as time went on, more and more of the enemies were just "Darth Vader Again". Another Jedi who fell to the Dark Side, or another long-lost schism of the Sith who rediscovered mainstream galactic society, or some other thing that is eventually resolved by a one-on-one lightsaber duel and a personal grudge against the Skywalker or Solo families. It definitely felt like they were out of ideas and kept running through the same villains over and over again.

This kicked into high gear after the Prequels came out, and continued in the new continuity after the EU was rebranded as "Legends".

I wish we could go back to the idea that there could be an enemy who wasn't super powerful in the force and consumed by Hatred Of The Jedi. With their own skills, their own methods, and something that makes them more than just another wannabe-Sauron. Pirates who are just pirates, marauding ex-Imperial Warlords who are just marauding ex-Imperial Warlords, and corrupt politicians who are just corrupt politicians, instead of revealing that Palpatine returned (somehow) all over again.

[high-fantasy-sw]

That's Right. Worldbuilding Wednesdays are Back

This installation: Technically Part Two of Clone Culture, even though it's the first Worldbuilding Wednesday for that particular topic. Part One can be found by clicking the link.

HUGE shoutout to @majorproblems77 for helping me come up with, like, 90% of this lore. Thank you so much, Major, I really couldn't have done this without you :)

Also, I'd like to keep this consistency up, so if you're so inclined, let me know in the tags what you'd like to know more about in the AU, and if you're even more so inclined, don't hesitate to send an ask and help me talk it out! I love hearing your ideas for how I could make this AU better :)

@whyoneartheven @anime-obsessed @magpie-sherlock

Edit: Well, crap. I accidentally posted this instead of scheduling it. Oh well, I guess you get Worldbuilding Monday today.

Edit Two: CRAP CRAP CRAP I AM REALLY BEHIND IT TODAY AND COMPLETELY FORGOT TO PUT THE DIAGRAM THERE. OKAY IT'S BEEN ADDED

Identification Rings

Every Clone, at birth, is given an identification ring: a plain iron band with his number stamped on the surface. This ring, purportedly, serves a two-fold purpose. As well as being his official identifying information, it’s also an enchanted artifact: the Kaminoans claim that, as powerful as their alchemy is, it’s not strong enough to create and sustain an entire human being on its own, especially with modifications such as advanced aging; the rings are therefore created with a spell that supposedly splits the life-sustaining alchemy between itself and the Clone in question, and once a Clone reaches the age of nine-eighteen, he is told he must wear the ring at all times or his alchemy will begin to unravel and he’ll die. (Prior to this, cadets wear their rings on chains around their neck, as seen in their concept art; apparently, Kaminoan magic can hold itself mostly together until a Clone reaches adulthood.)

The Clones are extraordinarily protective and even possessive of their rings. Besides their life-preserving properties, they’re also the only items the Clones can truly call personal possessions, the only thing they can really point to and say “That’s mine.” (True, once the war breaks out and they bond with their Jedi Generals, many of them receive numerous gifts from their newfound families, but in truth they often have trouble really seeing these presents as truly theirs, since in the walls of Kamino Fortress there was an unspoken understanding that everything they had- armor, clothing, room and board, anything and everything they touched- was really on loan and would be given to the next batch of brothers when they couldn’t use it anymore.)

Since these rings are so important to the Clones, a culture of sorts has sprung up around them:

As noted earlier, Cadets (Clones under the age of nine-eighteen and/or who have not passed their final exam) wear their rings on chains around their necks. As part of their coming-of-age ritual, their rings move from their necks to their right hands, and they reconfigure their chains from a single loop to this cuff design:

This new chain has both a practical purpose and a symbolic one. Practically, it prevents the ring from sliding off of a Clone’s hand and being lost (the chain is non-removable; all the links are closed). Symbolically, however, the chain has a much deeper meaning. It consists of two segments: the chain of identity (seen in red in the diagram) and the chain of brotherhood (seen in blue). 

The chain of identity is the segment that goes over the back of the hand and connects the ring to the chain of brotherhood. It symbolizes the connection that an individual Clone has to his brothers, and also his own individuality and personhood. Many Clones use this chain to express their own quirks and personality, painting it or attaching small mementoes to it. 

The chain of brotherhood is the segment that goes around the wrist, and to the Clones is the most important segment. It represents the brotherhood between all the Clones, and- eventually- between the Clones and their Jedi generals. There is a very important ritual associated with this chain: they are painted in memory of fallen brothers and Jedi, one link (usually; it can be more, depending on who or how many died) for every slain friend, in the color or colors of their armor (or, in a Jedi’s case, the color of their lightsaber). The inch or so of chain right over the back of the wrist, where it meets the chain of identity, is considered the most personal segment of the chain, and is usually reserved for fallen batchmates (though there have been exceptions to this norm- for example, after Ahsoka left the Jedi, Rex painted his section green for her.)

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 4/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 4: Keeping the Other Alive + Fox find's Quin's Lightsaber Track: 'Escape From East Berlin' - Daniel Pemberton (Spotify / YouTube)

"You have to stay with me Vos, come on!"

He really was trying, promise.

"I know, just... focus on keeping up. I'll do the rest, okay?"

Quinlan took a slow breath, focusing on just putting one fast-paced foot in front of the other. His awareness was muted in his attempt to mask his pain, and at this point, all the energy he had was being expended in keeping ahead of whatever droids were left on their tail.

Suddenly he was being hauled up and forward, aware of the ladder only when its rungs were suddenly beneath his hands.

"Up!" Fox barked, shots ringing out after his words. 

Quinlan obeyed the sharp order without hesitation. He was around three floors up when his awareness flared and he wrenched backward, a hand flailing wildly as he lost his hold on the wet durasteel. A new slew of blaster fire came from the end of the alleyway, backup arriving and causing further chaos. Moving purely on instinct he reached for where his saber was clipped to his belt-

And found nothing.

The sound of his saber igniting drew his gaze downward, the green flashing and lighting up across the red of Fox's armor. The clone must have picked it up earlier when Quinlan had nearly collapsed, no time to do much more than grab the saber in one hand and pull Quinlan back to his feet with the other. Now Fox was moving with deadly accuracy, cloak fanning out around him, and Quinlan noted how even without Force sensitivity Fox was plenty skilled with the blade. He was precise and sly in his movements, expertly incorporating the blaster to dispatch another droid with a bullseye to the head, the sight inspiring some rather unique feelings in the base of Quinlan’s stomach.

"I said up Vos!"

Right, he was supposed to be climbing. Without another thought he continued moving, easily trusting Fox to cover him. That simple piece of knowledge that Fox was with him was enough to assure him they had a chance in all of this mess, was enough to motivate him forward.

He made it to the roof without further incident, slipping over the edge and sliding across the wet surface. The way it momentarily muffled the sound of the alleyway and how the rain thrummed against Quinlan's skin brought the Jedi a moment's respite, a second of clarity in the fog where he tried to parse out what they needed to do next.

He wasn't dead, not yet anyhow. But now they were on a rooftop and rather exposed to any air support the Separatists may have in the area. They needed cover, Quinlan needed medical attention, and most of all they had to get back to the ship and out of this damned sector.

All too soon Fox was joining him, Quinlan only having a few moments to breathe before Fox had grabbed his hand and yanked them both across slick metal and tile. Fox was still holding his saber, playing their escape purely on the defensive, and Quinlan was again truly impressed with how well Fox was handling the blade, continuous sweeps that blocked blaster bolts out of the sheer speed of the weapon's arc. 

Though Quinlan knew this wouldn't last long. Already he could see the end of the street coming up with a gap they definitely couldn't jump across. Fox had been guiding them as best he could, but they would be stuck with nowhere to go now, and would end up surrounded and outnumbered in seconds. They wouldn’t last long.

Unless...

Fox had begun to slow, head whipping around in search of some way out of this besides fighting straight back through the droids. Thus he was a bit surprised when Quinlan somehow found an extra burst of speed and began pulling Fox along after him instead.

Fox wasn’t dying like this, for something Quinlan had done, not while he was still drawing air.

"General?!" Quinlan managed a rather unhinged smile at the surprise in Fox's tone, though the commander followed without any other complaint. If anything he sped up, keeping pace directly toward the edge of the building, even when it became clear that was exactly what Quinlan was aiming for.

Trust me.

It may have been a trick of his mind, his single focus on getting them both out of this alive, but Quinlan could swear Fox squeezed his hand before leaping off that roof with him.

Always.

The feeling of free falling wasn’t unknown to Quinlan, but the struggle not to succumb to dizziness as he stretched out a hand and slowed them was an interesting first. He gave all of his attention to the presence of Fox, adding it to his own awareness and willing the Force up to meet them. In a rather graceless move the Force answered, just before they reached the street, and they were suspended perfectly in the air a moment before falling the last foot to safety. 

Quinlan staggered, would’ve fallen if not for Fox immediately tucking into his side and pushing them ever onward. Now the Jedi really was stumbling, his energy burning up faster than he could think.

Then they were stopped, hands were on his shoulders. Black spots dotted his vision, but things were quiet finally and Quinlan could swear he wasn’t standing any longer. All that really mattered was how he could still sense Fox, reaching out and focusing on that steady and clever soul in order to find the motivation to keep moving. 

Well, they must be safe if Fox had stopped them, had begun pressing something against where Quinlan knew his shoulder should hurt but only felt the dull sensation of Fox’s hands.

He always thought Fox had nice hands, strong and sleek with a small scar on his right palm.

Maybe Fox would let him kiss it, just once.

“Don’t- Quinlan!”

[yoitsjay]

Two Sides

Pairings: crosshair x inquisitor gn reader

Summary: swayed to the path of the dark during the fall of the jedi, you feel isolated and alone. But you find yourself stationed on an Ice planet, as is your old fling crosshair. And after rekindling what you lost, you both find your light again.

Warnings: cannon violence, bit of angst

After the fall of the jedi, a new batch of force sensitives were hunted, children to be used for experiments, or to be trained to become sith filled with hate… You were filled with hate after your friends and family were slaughtered in front of your eyes on coruscant. You were only supposed to be there for a general's meeting to discuss the end of the war… But after the clones turned on you, you remembered slaughtering thousands of clones, rage all but consuming you.

They had killed your padawan, who was just a child thrust into this war that they didn’t deserve to be apart of… And then you ran into anakin, but he had blood on his robes just as you had blood on yours. He saw something in your eyes, and instead of attacking you he extended his hand to you.

“Join me”

he said, telling you how in this new empire you could feel free to be you, and embrace the anger you’ve suppressed for years. And you did just that, turning your back on the jedi, following anakin as he slaughtered the rest of the jedi on coruscant.

You split up after that but when Vader showed up at one of the planets you were hiding on, you knew it was time to embrace the hate, and the anger… and that made you one of the first inquisitors under Darth Vader's watch.

Currently you were stationed on an imperial base located on a snowy tundra, having command of your own little batch of clones which you already despised, you were tasked in aiding the imps with guarding a supply drop, amongst other things like protecting the delicate work inside.

You had your helmet fastened over your head, lightsaber resting on the clip you had on your back armor plate, easy to reach just in case anything were to happen. You were just staring forward, that was until you heard an interesting voice commanding some stormtroopers, more like arguing.

You turned your head in the direction of the arguing, spotting a taller man, taller than you, however he had an interesting familiarity about him… until you realized that this man who was arguing with storm troopers was the same man you had an… interesting night with quite a few years ago.

You started walking forward, your looming and otherwize terrifying masked appearance making the storm troopers straighten up right away. “Crosshair?” you called out, your sweet dulcet- yet crackly modified voice escaping through your helmet, catching the tall man’s ears. He quickly turned around to face you just as you removed your helmet, shaking your hair out of the loose braid that you had it in, offering him a gentle smile. You could still be kind at times… especially when it came to this man.

“Y/n… wow it's been…” Crosshair trailed off as you nodded, gripping your helmet in your hands as you looked at the troopers. “You three, you're excused. find duties elsewhere.” You ordered, your tone suddenly shifting to a harsher one, watching as the troopers sped off. You turned to crosshair again, seeing the spark in his eyes and the slight smirk on his lips.

“I think you’ve earned a break, hm? Come, we have much to discuss…”

That day was one that led to many others, despite you both working for the empire your conversations lead to a spark igniting in your core, the kind of spark that would lead back into the darkest of places. and it seemed to be doing the same for crosshair as well, as after a mission went awry where he was extremely injured, he ended up killing his commanding officer in response.

After that he got arrested before you could do anything, but you fled the empire after that and you began searching for any leads… which is when you found the bad batch again… and after confessing to all you’ve done, they still took you in.

It took some work, but all that hate and anger you kept holed up in your heart you released, and your kyber crystal faded to white as you reconstructed your weapon, your tool.

Your priority was saving crosshair… and then omega when she got taken too. But after months of searching and nothing coming up you started losing hope of ever finding the man you… you loved.

funny how the universe worked though, because after receiving coordinates from Omega and actually going to see her, you saw Crosshair again for the first time in months since he killed that officer. You ran to him, practically jumping into his arms as you kissed him, and it took a minute but he reciprocated, tightening his arms around you tightly as he did so.

You realized that the light side was never the jedi, and the power that came with them, but the attachments in friends and family, the bond that was created. and as long as you knew how to deal with the anger and pain of losing someone, you wouldn’t stray from the light again… Not with Crosshair by your side.

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Part 1 | Part 2

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Series Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. Chapter: A dusty mission wrecks havoc on the team – and the success rate of CF99 is in peril. Good thing that their Jedi is creative with solutions; even if the solutions come with a cost at their own expense. Hunter starts to question his care towards their new member. Word Count: 2,138

The only thing guiding Hunter was the light from your saber.

His HUD was long gone, the dust storm making everything hazy and unreliable. His shots were going wide, the wind somehow managing to mess up even his blaster.

He knew Crosshair was nestled somewhere above the fight, taking droids that he deemed too close to his brothers. Even with all the wind and dust, his shots found their marks, having his brother's back always.

Hunter lost sight of his other brothers, but he had to have faith in them. Bred to be soldiers first, brothers second and all that.

If it weren't for the filters in his mask, Hunter was sure the muck would disorient him even more. How you could manage without a mask, he couldn't understand.

Your sabre hummed dangerously as you whirled around, using the droid's blaster shots against them, blue light deflecting red again, and again. In between clouds of dust, Hunter could see you pulled some fabric over your nose, trying to filter some dust out.

His comms flickered back to life, crackled chatter filtering through – it seemed that his comms were as happy as he was with this storm.

'–unter... –isiton is compromised. Repeat. Posi–... Position is... –ised. ..._ggesting a retreat...–ver.'

Kark.

Hunter tried to change the frequency of the comms channel, but all that filled his ears was the sound of static. Angling his visor towards you, you gave no insight if you heard Tech's report.

Even the droids were slowing down, which was great – it meant Hunter could reach you for a tactical retreat and make a plan with you.

One that didn't involve:

Him getting Force thrown;

2. You jumping into the heat of battle without a plan.

Noticing his presence, you swept with your eyes over the area once, twice and finally closed your lightsaber. Pulling down your mask, Hunter could see your flushed cheeks underneath the grime and soot, as well as remains of your favoured blue sparkles over your eyes.

Putting you hand up in a very Tech manner, you stopped him before he could even utter a word. Rude. Instead of trying to stop his tactical retreat as he expected, a violent cough seized you.

Ah, so you couldn't manage that well with the dust.

Righting you back up as you continued coughing, Hunter scanned the area, anticipating an attack any second.

Keeping his hands on you, he started guiding you towards the last known location of the Marauder. Even with all of his devices going haywire, nothing could beat Hunter's sense of direction. At least in the safety of the ship, your lungs could take a break. He could deal with your indignation later.

For now, his priority was to discuss with the squad another battle plan.

Because there is always another battle plan.

Their success rate of 100% was not going anywhere.

For the first ten steps, you lagged behind, feet dragging. If you didn't use your words, Hunter would not let you stay and fight some more.

After only 2 months with them, you managed to find a small space to call your own. Hunter couldn't lie and say that you blended in the group seamlessly... But. There was what Hunter would tentatively call hope.

After the first mission it was clear that whoever on the Jedi Council thought that you would reign them in, was absolutely wrong. In fact, the plans seemed to get even more dangerous.

You weren't even a General. He thought that only Padawans were Commanders, and that Padawans need Masters, so... Where was your Master? Or why weren't you a Jedi Knight?

He could ask Tech to look into it.

Well, he did want to know who was the person he had to live in close quarters with... Where's the harm in that?

So there you were, creating each plan. with zero regard to your safety and some regard to the squad.

Climb over the smoothest wall? Well, we can always jump from the Marauder and catch us with the Force.

Sit on the wing of the Marauder while flying? It's only the calmest place to meditate.

If your words were few, your actions were certainly something.

Your lungs gave an ugly rattle that made Hunter wince underneath his helmet. Although, with you, it didn't matter if he had a helmet on or not – you just seemed to know what face he was making in the (relative) safety of his helmet.

Sending a scowl to him, you started shaking some dirt from your long Jedi robes and cleaning up your face with a clean rag.

Jokes on you – Crosshair's scowls, sneers and general being made him immune to anything negative sent his way. The perks of having younger siblings, he supposed.

As soon as Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair joined them on the ship, a rare silence engulfed the walls. The only thing that Hunter could hear was the wind howling.

'It is clear that we will not be able to take off during this storm. However,' adjusting his glasses, Tech continued, 'we can utilise the storm to our advantage. It might cause some issues with the data transfer, but we should be out of the planet's atmosphere in good time.'

'We just needed to take the information from a data bank, right?' Your voice was still small when asking questions, but it was getting better. Or the entire squad was getting better at becoming silent once you started speaking. 'What if we just take the entire data bank? Tie it to the Marauder and leave. We can transfer the data in a more secure location.'

Four sets of eyes were trained on you unblinking. Credit where credit is due, you did not hunch down or flinch back... rather just stared back. Running your hand through your dust filled hair, you looked away first. 'Look guys, we are losing daylight here. I don-'

'Technically we would not be losing daylight, as days on this planet are much longer than the standard that we know. This is due-'

'Yes, thank you Tech. This is not the moment.' Although he loved his brother to bits, they really needed that information on time. Hunter could apologise later and would ask Tech later about all the small oddities that they encountered on this planet.

Looking back at you, Hunter gave you a nod, urging you to continue.

Your plan was not that bad. Except for the fact that they couldn't fly the Marauder, could they?

Your attention was on Tech.

'Tech, do you know in how much time the storm dies down for a bit, so that we can fly at a lower altitude?'

'Of course. In exactly 2 hours and 10 minutes the storm should stop. Based on how the storm is going on at this moment... we could theoretically fly blindly towards deep enemy space and retrieve the data bank. If I understood your plan correctly.' An uninterested blink from Tech, and then his attention was back on his datapad.

Crosshair was the first one to object. 'Do you even consider that we don't have to die?' His sneer was sharp and his eyes were on fire, but you weren't deterred.

'No one has to die. We just need to be creative with our survival.'

—

The price for your plan was two blaster grazes and just one sprained ankle for the whole team. Hunter could consider himself satisfied.

The only thing he was unsatisfied about was that once the mission was over, you locked yourself into the fresher with a medkit and that was it.

And here he was, stationed with his brothers on either side of the small door, trying to figure out how to approach you.

Everyone was patched up and cleaned. The only one un-accounted for was, well, you.

'You think she died?'

'That would certainly solve our issues now.' Leaning agains the wall, Crosshair had his arms crossed, toothpick in his mouth and eyes closed. Relaxed even. A rare occurrence indeed.

Silencing his brother with a glare, Hunter turned towards the door. No biggie. You were just a Commander. A Jedi. Padawan?

Hunter knocked on the door.

'You alright in there?'

'Uh-huh.'

Your voice was muffled, and while Hunter couldn't really hear you breathing... you did sound out of breath, and your heartbeat was elevated.

'I'm coming in.' Giving you an extra 30 seconds to cover up in case you were dressing up your wound, Hunter punched in the override code to the door.

Opening the door slowly, he expected to see you near the mirror, cleaning the blaster wound on your shoulder.

What he did not expect was to see you curled up in the corner of the fresher, head between your legs. As he entered, you gave no sign of acknowledgement. Crouching next to you, he could see your back moving with each shallow breath. Instinctively, his arm moved to your shoulder. With no flinch from you, he gingerly put his other arm on the injured shoulder, a sharp inhale coming from you.

'C'mon, sit up straight, it would be easier to breathe.' His words were hushed, trying to emulate the way 99 used to calm him or his brothers down. The fresher was not silent. Your breath echoed slightly, bouncing between the walls. The ship hummed, pipe creaked. And even with all those small sounds, Hunter heard the moment you decided to shift.

Guiding you in a better suited position, Hunter reluctantly took his hands off you. If it were one of his brothers, he wouldn't hesitate to slide behind them and try to match their breathing. With you?

He didn't know if he could do that yet.

You kept to yourself, and even after almost two months, you still looked standoffish every time you were alone with Hunter.

At most, you let Wrecker hug you sideways when he was excited with something, or manhandle you into a 'throw the Jedi' game-plan you two had going on.

Your eyes, still closed, fluttered slightly before settling again. Hunter could faintly smell the shampoo you preferred, all the debris and dust washed away into the pipes of the Marauder.

Well, almost all of it.

'We really need to work on your communication skills Commander.' All he got from you was a huff and a smile, but it was more that enough for Hunter. Raising his voice, Tech's name carried through the ship.

'I'm right and you know it. You need to come to us when you're injured.'

His brother appeared in the doorway, data pad and med scanner in hand. With so little space, Hunter knew he had to get out and let his brother in. Reluctantly, he got up, knees creaking in protest. Even if he didn't stray far, Hunter already missed your proximity. Crouching near you, Tech started scanning you to further know the issues caused by your lungs.

With a small beep, the scan indicated its end. 'We should move you into one of the lower bunks, Commander. It will help you breathing.'

'I'm fine... just. Just give me a minute, alright?' Hunter would bet his entire non-existent pay check that you were not, in fact, fine, if the pallor of your face or the fact that you hadn't opened your eyes were any indicators.

'It will also finally clear up the fresher. Are you done dying around?'

'Cross.' It seemed that no matter how many times Hunter warned his younger brother, or glared at him, Crosshairs mission was to antagonise you. Looking back at you, you were pulled up by Tech, your legs not cooperating for the first few seconds, but your eyes were open, trained on the sniper.

Huh.

At least that made you more alert.

'Very funny Crosshair. Didn't your mama te-' Maybe it was a good thing that your coughs were unpredictable. The last thing Hunter wanted was a fist fight in the tiny fresher.

Now all they had to do was to rendezvous with the Negotiator, and make you sit still long enough so that the medics can take a good look at you.

As most things related to Jedi, this might be easier said than done.

Maker help him.

—

The debrief went as smoothly as it could go.

All Hunter wanted to do was to get some chow, get all of the sand out of his hair and finally get some sleep. After all, you were in the hands of the highly skilled medics.

And yet.

His legs were on autopilot, and there was Hunter, in front of the medbay. If he strained his ears, he could hear the faint chatter of the medics, soft beeps creating a soothing rhythm. Nestled between all the sounds, there it was.

Thud. Thud-thud. Thud.

Your heartbeat, familiar after just a couple of months with the team, reached Hunter. You were not asleep. If he just opened the door, he could probably see you, data pad in hand, not one second wasted.

Would you smile?

Shaking his head, Hunter took a step back. Why would you smile? You were there because the Council ordered you to wrangle them, his band of mischiefs.

As if.

With one last sigh, Hunter took another step towards the barracks. The next mission was inbound sooner rather than later. He needed to rest, without a Jedi on his mind.

[flyiingsly]

Smoke Screen

Square : Fire

Pairing : Wolffe x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Hurt/confort, fire (a lot), angst, mention of burns and injuries, medical equipment, unconsciousness, mention of death, slight mention of alcool, Wolffe deserves a hug (and reader too)

Wordcount : 5,8k

Summary : Your battalion is sent as reinforcements to the 104th in anticipation of a potential separatist attack, but things turn out worse than expected, leading you to risk your own life to save your beloved Commander from a terrible fate.

A/N : My fourteenth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! I reaaally got carried away with this one, I was so hooked while writing this, it felt like I was living the whole situation for real, that was such a thrilling feeling and so much fun ! I love our favorite grumpy Commander so much, I just wanted to give him a bit of hurt/comfort, because I think that he really deserves to be protected and comforted, enjoy ❤

Fire.

Fire was the most frightening element in your opinion, the one you had always dreaded the most.

Even if it was a situation you were often facing during missions, you couldn’t help but feel that kind of crippling terror washing over your brain every time you found yourself surrounded by flames.

It only meant destruction and suffering to you, and no matter how much training and conditioning you’ve been through to control it better already, it was still here, in a little corner of your mind.

You were a jedi, you weren’t supposed to experience fear, but this one, you never thought that one day you’ll be able to fully overcome it.

But that was until you burst into that collapsing building, shielded by the force, trying to find your Commander, and hoping that he had survived the outpost’s attack.

***

It all started when you arrived with Obi-Wan and the 212th on a little Outer Rim’s planet on which you’ve never been before, to give support and reinforcement to General Plo Koon. He needed more men on his current mission, and of course, you volunteered immediately. Master Plo was a dear friend of yours, and you were worried for him and his men.

You came to know the 104th very well, either by fighting along them, but also by all the time you were spending with the clones of the 212th, for between missions, the different battalions often shared their free time together.

You, in general, had developed a very close bond with the clones, so you were immediately adopted by the 104th as well. But there’s one particular person with who you happened to came along even better.

Commander Wolffe was a bit distant at first. He seemed like he always had a hard time trusting new people by what Rex and Cody told you. But if you had the perseverance to get to know him and to pass through the rude first impression he was giving, he could become one of the most trustworthy and kind person you’ve ever known.

What a chance, you were patient, and what you didn’t know at that time was that he got an eye on you since the first time he met you.

It was right after Plo Koon’s ship was attacked by General Grievous and his Malevolence.  You and Ahsoka insisted to go in search for Master Plo and what was left of his men, and despite the disapproval of Obi-Wan and Master Windu, Anakin and the two of you still decided to give it a try.

The unauthorized mission was a success, you arrived just in time to save them, and Wolffe was very moved by that first encounter. You were intriguing, you were kind and caring toward the clones like not so many other natborns were. You were gifted with healing abilities, and seeing you take care of his wounded men made him feel something he wasn’t used to truly experience. Safety.

You were in the middle of the space, somewhere none of you were supposed to be, chased by the most deadliest general of the Separatist army, his ship had been destroyed, he lost most of his men, he just nearly died and still wasn’t sure if he was going to survive that mission …. He should have felt doomed and frightened right now, but instead, he couldn’t help but feel safe with you on board, watching over him and his fellow troopers.

He stayed far from you for the next few times you two met again. He just looked at you from a distance, trying to hide his interest and fascination toward you the best he could. He knew very well he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of getting too attached to someone, especially to a jedi, for it will never be reciprocate anyway.

But one night, as you were with members of the 501st, 212th and 104th at the 79’, Rex and Cody became frustrated to see him burn to talk to you and never even try to do it. Of course you had tried to start a conversation with him a couple times already, and he always seemed to use his best energy to stay cold with you. You knew it was going to take time for him to open up to you, and so you were determined to give him as much as he’ll need.

Except that they weren’t hearing it that way.

It took Wolffe a bunch of drinks and a monstrous amount of courage, but pushed by his two brothers, he eventually gathered himself to go talk to you. It was a very funny moment, for when he came in front of you, you looked at him with a surprised look at first, before a wide smile appeared on your face, a smile that was screaming “finally”.

His heart melted, his cheeks started to blush badly and he found himself unable to say anything for a whole minute straight.

And that’s how it began between the two of you. As he was expecting it, he grew very fond of you, and you quickly became really close, never missing an occasion to spend some time together. You weren’t sharing that much missions or battlefields, for you were mostly assigned to the 212th, but you were always keeping in touch, no matter how far from each other you were sent.

But as the time passed by, something more than just friendship started to grow inside of him. It was something scary at first, because it was the very thing he was afraid of and wanted to avoid in the first place, and maybe the worse that could happen to someone in time of war.

He eventually ended up accepting it after realizing that he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. It never changed anything between you nonetheless, for he was doing his best to not let his new feelings ruin your already existent relationship, keeping it all for himself, hiding it at the bottom of his heart and promising to never tell you anything about it.

You were now way too important to him for that, and he knew that he could never handle to lose you or break that special bond. It was easier that way he thought, and the only thing that really mattered to him in the end was your safety. As long as you were safe and alive, it was enough for him.

But little did he know the he wasn’t the only one to feel the same.

***

The planet you were headed to was a highly valuable ally for the Republic, for it was hosting in its ground the biggest stock of a very rare and expensive kind of metal in the whole galaxy. That component was needed for the fabrication of a vast range of weapon’s and ship’s parts, and at the beginning of the war, its government managed to sign a contract with the Chancellor, allowing the GAR to be the one and only entity to use those resources, much to the disapproval of the separatists, of course.

In exchange, the Senate agreed to provide protection to the planet and its inhabitants against whatever would want to attack them, which was the reason why you were send here. The Senate Intelligence had reported that an attack from the separatist to steal its resources was planned a few days ahead, and that the troops already on place would never be enough to block it, so they urgently needed reinforcements.

But after a week, there was still no sign of any kind of attack. Nothing coming from the sky, no signs of spies amongst the population, not a single droid spotted anywhere. It was strange, for the source was a very trusted one and was usually always giving correct information, but both the Senate and the Order were starting to think about sending the reinforcements back to Coruscant. Maybe it really was just a false alarm after all.

Something was off about this whole situation, and you weren’t the only one thinking it. Both Master Plo and Obi-Wan were trying to convince the Senate to let your battalion stay longer, just to make sure that everything was really alright. Something felt wrong here, you could feel it, but without really explaining why, like if something was happening right under your nose, in the shadows.

One particular place on this planet was giving you a disturbing feeling : an old abandoned mine on the outskirt of the capital city. It was once one of the biggest of the area, and that was why the city had been built near. It wasn’t used anymore, because the deposit had been drained long ago, and the whole mining structures and tunnels had become unstable and dangerous, so its access was now completely forbidden.

You knew you needed to go investigate that mine, even Master Plo was starting to agree with you on that. Nobody had thought about it before because it was supposed to be abandoned, and most importantly, it wasn’t seen as a menace, since the attack was mostly awaited from the sky. So after successful negotiations with the Senate to get a couple more day on site, you and Obi-Wan decided to go visit it and see what you could find there.

And of course, your instinct was right all along.

It didn’t take you long to find some traces of recent mining activities and to bump into a bunch of mining droids busy extracting the few remaining metal from the walls of its many caves. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing at first. You had absolutely no idea how and since when the separatists have been secretly exploiting that place, and most importantly, how they managed to reach the planet without being caught. It was impressive and frightening at the same time.

You tried to get out of here without drawing attention on you, but you got noticed by a probe droid on your way out. You quickly destroyed it and decided to take a closer look at it while Obi-Wan was calling the outpost to inform them of your discovery.

Probes droids were too heavy to be transported easily, but you still wanted to analyze it to maybe get a chance to find information on its sender.

When you plugged your datapad to its system, you realized that it had already given your position away and managed to download the coordinates to where the message had been sent. But something else caught your eyes. You noticed that in addition of your position, another message had been sent by the probe before it was taken down.

When the transcription of this second message appeared on your screen, the words made your blood curdle.

“Republic found us, activate outpost bomb.”

You let out a gasp of horror, your datapad nearly falling from your hands.

“We need to go back, now !” you yelled at Obi-Wan, unplugging your datapad in a hurry.

“(y/n), what did you saw ?” he asked worriedly.

“The probe sent a message with the order to “activate the outpost bomb”, they must have known that we were going to find them someday and booby trapped the outpost in anticipation, probably to cut its communications and prevent anyone from stopping their little traffic. Our troops are in danger, we need to make them get out of the building right now !”

You started to run as fast as possible toward the entrance of the mine, closely followed by your fellow jedi who was frantically trying to call his Commander again.

“Cody, we have been fooled, the outpost is compromised, the separatists have been hiding underground all along !” Obi Wan shouted through his commlink as soon as he heard his voice pick up the call.

“What ? How ?” the clone answered in a surprised tone.

“Please, we don’t have time to explain more, tell Wolffe and Master Plo to gather all of your men, you need to evacuate the place, now, please !” You added, out of breath.

“Copy that !”

The communication cut. The only thing left to do now was to pray for them to be able to escape on time.

A couple minutes later, as you were coming closer from the building, the sound of an explosion loudly ringed out, making the ground violently shake under your feet, stopping you in your tracks and making you lose your balance, nearly falling down.

“Oh kriff, no !” you screamed, instantly understanding what had just happened.

It was too late.

A wave of panic overwhelmed your body, and you soon started to run with even more determination. You were so fast that Obi-Wan could barely keep your pace.

When you finally got the outpost at eyes sight, you immediately noticed Master Plo and Cody, gathered with men from both of their battalions, standing far enough to be safe from the ferocious and high flames that where now eating what was remaining of the structure.

The two superior floors were completely destroyed and collapsed, only the ground floor was still standing, but it was drowned under a massive amount of scrapped metal, concrete and shattered glass.

“Are you okay ?” you desperately let out at them as soon as you were close enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks to you, we could never have find out without your warning.” The commander answered.

“Did everybody escaped ? Are all of your men safe ?” you frantically asked, still in complete shock and looking around you, counting the troops before they can ever answer your question.

“Wait, someone’s missing …” you suddenly realized, “Where … Where is Wolffe ?” your voice was filled with concern, and you couldn’t even try to hide it as another wave of panic violently hit you.

 “He didn’t make it …”

“Wh .. What ?” you mumbled, feeling your whole body starting to shake nervously.

“He was still inside when the explosion happened, he wanted to make sure that everyone was outside, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but … He didn’t pass the door ... Then the building collapsed and the flames were fast to spread, we couldn’t do anything ...”

As soon as you heard these words, you felt like the whole world was crumbling around you. It was like if someone has hit you right in the chest, so strongly that your heart had just stopped beating. Your head started to spin and for a moment you thought that you were about to faint. But you were perfectly motionless, eyes staring into space, completely paralyzed.

“(Y/n), are you ok ?”

Cody’s voice was like an electroshock pulling you out of your thought and back to reality. It took you a few eyes blinks to be able to see clearly again, but without a warning you started to run toward the building. Instantly understanding what you were trying to do, Obi-Wan stopped you in your tracks, using the force against you to lift you up, making your feet leave their contact with the ground.

“(Y/n), it’s too late, you can’t do anything for him now, you have to let it go !”

You were trying to resist, but he was more powerful than you. But you just couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t stay here and watch the whole edifice burn to the ground without even trying to do something to rescue him, even if it meant risking your own life in the process. He meant too much to you for you to just leave him here to die alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and concentrate, and then, gathering all of your strength, you turned back to face the jedi despite all the power unleashed against you.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I just can’t do that.”

Without a warning, you threw the most powerful force wave you had ever created in his direction, sending him flying away. You fall flat in the dirt from the released pressure but get up on your feet quickly. No one could have ever stopped you from doing it, and everyone perfectly knew that there was no point on trying, for you would not let anyone stand in your way.

When you arrived right in front of the outpost, you managed to find the former main entrance. The door was gone, and at its place was now a gaping hole. You took another deep breath, and, collecting your energy once again, you created a force shield around before entering the blazing inferno.

The heat was already hard to bear on the outside, but now that you were inside, even with your shield, it was barely tolerable. You had absolutely no visibility, for the smoke and the flames had took the whole space, making it impossible to distinguish anything ahead from a few feet away. In a desperate attempt to locate Wolffe, you yelled his name at the top of your lungs, without, obviously, getting any answer.

You tried to stay calm, thinking about what Cody just told you. He was right behind them when they escaped, so he shouldn’t be that far from the entrance. You weren’t able to see anything, so you decided to close your eyes and focus on what force signatures you could feel around you. Soon, you started to perceive a distant and faint pulse. Something was still living under this blaze, and even if it seemed weak, it was here nonetheless.

With your instinct guiding you, you started to move forward, stepping over a few massive concrete obstacles. The heat was making you sweat abundantly under your robes, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes opened.

You tried to call his name again, despite knowing that nobody was going to call back. You continued to move forward, the presence was getting nearer, but the path to reach it seemed never ending. You had only been here for a very short amount of time, but it felt like light years in these conditions.

As you made a turn to avoid a big concrete wall part that had felt through the ceiling, you let out a gasp as you saw a human looking shape laying on the floor.

“Wolffe !” you screamed, quickening your pace to reach him faster.

As you were getting closer, the shape became more and more recognizable. You were right, it was a human form, and it was armored. Despite the yellowish atmosphere and the messed up colors, you still were able to catch a glimpse of the grey of his armor paint, as well as the special 104th design he was wearing on his spaulder. It was him, there was no doubt about that.

You closed the distance separating the two of you quickly, creating yourself a way through the flames with the help of the force.

“Wolffe …” you breathed out, falling on your knees next to him when you finally reached him, a lump growing in your throat. You knew that there was no time to check on him right here and right now, the absolute priority was to extract him from that hell. He was still wearing his helmet on, and even if you were dying to remove it to see his face and check his breath, you knew you couldn’t.

Maintaining a force shield around you was exhausting, but you still managed to find enough strength to lift him from the ground in your arms, wrapping them around his legs and back. But as soon as your hands came in contact with his armor, you felt the metal’s heat burning your palms and irradiating your arms through your robe’s sleeves. You hissed in pain and clenched your jaws but didn’t let go, the adrenaline helping you ignore it.

You stood up quickly despite that he was heavier than you, just in time to dodge a chunk of concrete falling from the ceiling. You quickly locate the door from where you came in and rushed toward it, praying that your eyes hadn’t fooled you on this time. Your head started to hurt and your vision to blur, it became harder and harder to breathe, and the heat was less and less bearable. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that it felt like it was about to explode, and you knew that soon, your body will not be able to take it anymore. Fortunately, you were on the right way, getting closer and closer to the escape.

A few steps away from the exit, you heard a loud crack noise coming from above you, just after realizing that a pile a debris was now baring the path. What was left of the first floor was probably going to fall on you in the next seconds, and in a desperate move, you broke your force shield and directed all of your energy toward the entrance, blowing the obstacles toward the outside to clear the way. Right after, you were out in the fresh air without even remembering how you made it.

Your pace accelerated, and you were now running frantically toward the rest of the battalion, putting as much distance as possible between you and the collapsing building

As you were getting closer to them, you heard someone scream something to the other, and suddenly everyone turned out from what they were doing to look at you. All of yours and Master Plo’s men saw you run toward the blaze and disappeared into it, and they were all waiting for your return in concern.

When you arrived at their level and stopped, you were panting and sweating like never before, and you felt like if you were chocking. The jedi immediately came toward you, asking you if you were alright, but you barely paid attention to them, too busy worrying about the man you were carrying. The atmosphere became heavy and tensed when the Wolfpack realized that their commander was completely still and not moving at all.

“I need a medic, please, can someone help me ?” you burst as you lowered down to gently lay him on the ground, drained and barely standing on your feet anymore, your throat still hurting and your voice harsh from inhaling too much smoke.

An agitation took over the men gathered around you and some of them rushed to find a medic. An anxious silence felt on the group as you bend over Wolffe and started to cautiously remove his helmet. Nobody dared to say a world, they all seemed to hold their breath, even the jedi stayed quiet. Your heart was still beating fast, but not from your run this time. You were afraid of what you could find under that bucket, and it skipped a bit when you saw his face. He was looking just like if he was asleep, almost too peaceful despite what he had just been through.

You checked his breath and his pulse, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped you when you realized that they hadn’t stopped.

“It’s ok, he’s alive” you quietly told Master Plo, who was crouched next to you, without taking your eyes off of the clone.

“Thanks to you, he was doomed without your help, you surely were his guardian angel on that one, (Y/n), once again.”

His last words made your head raise to look at him with surprise. It was something Wolffe once told you, when you were at his bedside after Ventress ripped his eye off. He told you how lucky he was that you had found him on time before she had the chance to finish him, and that you brought him back to the base when someone else would have probably left him behind to die.

He called you his guardian angel, and those words made your heart burst. That day, you promised him that you will never abandon him no matter what could happen.

Your gazes met, and you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. That look the Kel Dor gave you was powerfully meaningful, you knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t exactly understand what. Then suddenly, you heard his voice ringing into your head, out of nowhere.

“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I think that you two will need to seriously discuss those feelings after all of this.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did a Jedi Master just suggested you to confess your feelings to someone ? A ton of things came swirling in your mind at his words. How did he knew ? Were you not hiding it well enough ? Did he felt it through the force ?

Of course, he knew, he was one of the closest person to Wolffe along with you, and even if you had been trying your best to ignore and repress your feelings, maybe just the way you cared for each other and spent so much time together was making it obvious.

You didn’t get more time to think about it, as you caught a glimpse of three medics running toward you from the corner of your eyes. You raised your head to look at them, breaking the eye contact with Plo, but his voice came to your mind once again.

“He really is attached to you, you know.”

“I know” you whispered in response, low enough so Obi-Wan, who was standing next to you, could not hear it, “I am, too …”

The medics were by your side in no time, and you moved aside to give them some space to work. Two of them checked on the commander, while the third was standing next to a stretcher he brought.

“General, are you ok ?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy from the smoke, I feel like my lungs are full of ashes … But I’ll be alright.” You absent mindlessly answered, raising a hand to your face to swept the sweat still running on your forehead.

 “General, your hands, they’re burned !” he suddenly exclaimed with concern.

It was only at that moment that you realized how badly your skin had been burned and was hurting. Suddenly, you felt all the heavy weight of pressure and stress being lifted from your shoulders. A violent shiver came running through your spine despite the heat waves that were still striking at you, making you realized that you didn’t even get rid of your half consumed robes. You felt even more worn out, and all you were able to do was to stare at him with a vacant look, completely unable to react or speak anymore.

What happened next was so fast that you barely realized it, and you completely lost track of time.

Wolffe was placed on the stretcher and hooked to a respirator, for his lungs had been critically exposed to smoke. Then the medics removed his armor to examine the extent of his wounds. It was mostly burns, but fortunately not severe ones. They told you that a couple of bacta patches will be enough to treat them. You, too, were sat on a stretcher and gave a respirator, as well as a couples bacta patches for your hands and forearms.

 Soon after, reinforcement ships arrived to evacuate everyone and take you far from that hell of a planet. There was no point in staying here now that the outpost as well as all of the equipment had been completely destroyed. Wolffe’s state was stabilized, but he was still unconscious when you came onboard. You stayed close to him all the way back to Coruscant, hoping for him to wake up soon.

***

It took him a couple more hours after landing on Coruscant and being transferred to the GAR med bay to emerge from his coma. You stood by his side the whole time, waiting patiently for him to regain consciousness. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep, not wanting to miss the moment when he’ll open his eyes.

When he finally did, he looked all around him in confusion, not understanding why and how he ended up here. He was still wearing a respirator, and run his hands through it, trying to figure out what was that thing attached to his face. Then he stared at his arms, to which some electrodes plugged to a monitor and some bacta patches were stuck, before painfully trying to sit up straight. When he noticed your presence, his eyes started to sparkles and his face instantly enlightened.

“(Y/n) …” he whispered with a weak voice.

“Hey …” you whispered back with a relieved smile.

“What, what happened ? Why am I here?”

“Well, you got trapped in the fire back at the outpost, when helping our troops to get out. You fell unconscious, so we had to extract you from the building … But you’re safe now, back on Coruscant. The medics said that your burns were only superficial. The patches will heal them in no time !”

“I barely remember it … I just remember the explosion, and that I gathered my men to evacuate, the fire was spreading so fast … But after that, nothing … How are the other ? Are they safe ? I did my best to lead them outside but …” he sighed, his brows furrowing and his face tensing worriedly.

“They’re fine, all of them, thanks to you. Don’t worry, you did the best thing you could have done for them. And you, how do you feel now ?”

“Strange honestly, but not so bad. I can feel the burns, it hurts, but it’s still bearable. I just feel awfully tired … And thirsty.”

“Great”, you chuckled, handing him a glass of water that was settled on his bed table, “You’ll feel better soon, you just need to rest for now.”

He took the glass and drank it in one gulp, quickly putting his oxygen mask back in place right after, as he was starting to cough and struggle to breath without it.

He was lost in thoughts, replaying his memories in his mind, when he noticed your hands and arms entirely bandaged, only leaving the tips of some of your fingers exposed.

“Wait, were you hurt ? Are you ok ? What happened ?” he let out with an expression of deep concern.

You lowered your head at his words, hesitant to tell him the truth, suddenly feeling irrationally embarrassed and self-conscious.

“(Y/n) ? Are you okay ?”

“It … It happened when I pulled you out of the building after you fell unconscious … The metal of your armor was very hot because of the fire … But that’s okay, I’m fine, its already nearly healed !” you said quietly, smiling shyly and trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You did what ?” he exclaimed with widening eyes.

“I … get back inside the building to found you when they told me that you didn’t get out on time …”

You both stayed silent for a moment, Wolffe trying to process what he had just heard.

“Why did you do that ? You could have been killed …” his voice was trembling, and you weren’t sure if he was reprimanding you or if he was just very surprised and worried.

“I know, but I wasn’t thinking about it at this moment, I was only thinking about you … I told you that I’ll always be here to watch your back, remember ? I just couldn’t leave you behind you know, I knew that you were still alive, I could feel it through the Force, I just couldn’t leave you here to die, that wasn’t even an option …”

His expression softened, you were right, you promised, and he knew that you were sincere about it, but he could never have imagined that you’ll literally jump into fire for him. He was so moved by your words that he found himself unable to refrain the words that were swirling over and over again and flashing in capital letters to his mind to escape from his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/n) …” he breathed out, his gaze lost on you.

It was your turn to stare at him with a confused expression.

“Sorry, what ?” you mumbled, not sure if you had just dreamed that or not.

“I love you, (Y/n).” he repeated, a bit louder, “I should have told you that before but … I wasn’t courageous enough to do it. But now I just need you to know, because maybe next time I will not be that lucky to have you by my side to save me, and I don’t want to die without having had the chance to tell it to you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I owe you my life … You truly are my guardian angel, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, and without detaching them from him, you moved from your chair to the edge of his bed, sitting close to him, and carefully wrapped your arms around his body, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His skin was warm as if it was still soaked with the fire’s heat. You completely melted as he snuggles against you, his own arms encircling you, and one of his hand settled on your head, softly running its fingers through your hair.

“I don’t want to think about the eventuality of losing you …”, you muttered in his ear, voice filled with emotion, “I Just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, I can’t express how important you are to me, I just know that I could never live in a world where you’re not by my side anymore … I love you too, and I just want to stay your guardian angel for as long as possible …”

You felt his embrace around you tighten a bit, and you hear him sighed in relief through his respirator.

“Thank you” he muttered back, his own eyes starting to be submerged with tears, “I’ll do my best to stay with you as long as I can then, I promise you, mesh’la, I just want to be with you.”

After a moment, you let go of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes and you felt him shivered under your lips, his cheeks turning a bright tone of red.

“I wish I could take that mask off to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might suffocate again if I try too …” he met out with disappointment.

“Don’t worry about that” you giggled, “we’ll have plenty of time to catch it up when you’ll get better.”

“I can’t wait for it”, he whispered, a fond smile instantly appearing on his face, before pulling in for another gentle and long-awaited hug.