#raising them side by side me n rexs children... ;///;

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.17

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Canon Typical violence, slight adherence to cannon events but just slightly... angst babes... angst... trauma response, big sad, big emotions, grief and loss

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"Ow!"

You were a bit distressed listening to the way Wrecker was groaning in pain. "Baby, I already gave you more than what I should have for the pain. Are you sure it’s not working?" You sighed, running your hands over his as he rubbed the side of his head.

“It aches,” he whimpered, leaning back against the side of the ship.

You looked to Hunter, wondering what you should do. If these were normal circumstances, you’d request taking him back to Coruscant to see Layla, but that wasn’t an option.

He looked at his brother with a worried expression, and you returned the same look to him. He had felt your distress start about an hour ago. He didn’t like the scent you were emitting while you scanned your alpha repetitively, thinking you must have missed something.

“Wrecker has sustained many head injuries since we were children,” Tech chimed in. “Perhaps it’s just some nerve damage or remnants of a concussion.”

“I’d like to get him to a real medical center if we can,” you said, watching Hunter help guide Wrecker from the ship out into the docking bay on Ord Mantel.

You slipped on your helmet and trailed after them, keeping close to Tech and Echo.

When you reached Cid’s, all of you slid inside, finding the Trandoshan behind the bar cleaning glasses.

“Nice look, sweetcheeks,” she smiled at the armor.

“Thanks, Cid,” you went to take the helmet off, but Hunter stopped you. He set Wrecker down on a stool and turned to face the far corner of the bar.

You faced the same direction, watching a hooded figure approach you cautiously.

Hunter placed you behind him again, watching the man approach.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Cid snarled at the hooded man.

You watched the man push the hood back, revealing bleach-blond hair and the sharpest jawline in the known region.

“Rex?” Hunter raised a brow. “Captain, what are you doing here?”

You shoved Hunter to the side, ripping off your helmet. “Rex!” You ran forwards, jumping into the air and wrapping your arms around his neck.

He caught you in a hug, bringing you in close. You pressed your nose into his collar as he swayed, keeping you both upright.

“Hey, Kid,” he said lowly. You heard the emotion in his throat, knowing he was fighting back his feelings.

“Where have you been?” You whispered, feeling him set you back down on the ground. “What happened?” You felt tears well up in your eyes.

He looked at you with a saddened expression, and you suddenly knew things were so much worse than he was letting on.

“We need to talk,” he sighed.

“How did you find us?” Hunter asked, worried that their location might be compromised.

“The Martez sisters,” Rex replied. “Said they worked with you on a job. A bunch of rogue clones. Told me where I could find you.”

“Ah, great. More clones,” Cid grumbled. “I’m not taking in any more strays!”

“Why’d you come?” Hunter asked.

“I’m trying to find our brothers,” he said as you clutched onto his waist, refusing to let go. “After Order 66, there were a few who didn’t follow command. They were detained and imprisoned by the Empire. I’m trying to get them out.”

“Your chip didn’t work?” You asked, looking up at him.

He sighed and shook his head. “It did. I almost killed Ahsoka.” You saw the tears rising up in his eyes as he fought them back. “She saved me. Fives warned all of us. He even found the evidence of what the Chancellor was planning. He had him executed.”

Your eyes widened in horror. You felt a tear spill down your cheek. “Fives?” Your best pack mate… gone.

He nodded, and you started to cry in earnest. He held you close, trying to comfort you. Even Echo had to sit down, taking in the news. It was a bit of a shock to say the least. He slumped down, putting his head in his hands. Echo was the last domino….

“Where’s Ahsoka?” You inhaled a shaky breath.

“We separated after the crash,” he said, looking up at the other clones. “We were transporting Maul off Mandalore when the order was given. General Tano and I were on General Skywalker’s Venator. He was called back to Coruscant because the Chancellor staged his own capture. One second I was speaking with Ahsoka, and then next all I knew was that I had to kill her. She was smart enough to get me separated from the others to take out my chip. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, but the ship was going down, and we were racing against Maul for the last ship out of there. The others had all turned on us. They were going to kill us, they were aiming the ship for a crash landing onto an icy moon.” He let a tear slip, and you reached up to wipe it away. “Ahsoka fought them off for as long as she could. Jesse, Ridge, and the others… they-they didn’t make it.”

You shook, backing up from Rex in disbelief. You placed a hand to your chest, suddenly feeling like the room was zooming out on you. All you remember was letting out a blood-curdling scream as you felt your heart rip apart. You knew at some point the others knelt around you, trying to console you, but you no longer felt real… Nothing felt real. 

The grief took over all of your senses, and your body shook, trying to process the fact that the only people you considered family were all dead… you suddenly felt very, very alone.

They died turning on their sister… on little Soka.

You heard Cid yell at the other customers, kicking them out of the bar and closing down shop. Even she was disturbed hearing your wails.

You inhaled sharply, trying to force yourself to breathe. You whined, “Where is Kix?”

Rex shook his head. “Missing,” he wiped his own tears. “I searched for him before we were called to Mandalore, but he was nowhere to be found.”

You sobbed into your hands, still kneeling on the bar floor. Cid came over, handing you a napkin to wipe up your tears.

“And you all wonder why I worry about her,” Cid chastised, running her claws through your hair. “Listen, sweetcheeks, I’m not the most comforting person I know, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

You nodded silently, leaning into her, trying to quell the pain in your body. Her unusual warmth made you sob even more.

“Where is General Tano?” Tech asked.

Rex shrugged. “We agreed to separate and go into hiding until things cooled down,” Rex said, running his hands up and down your spine as you continued to cry.

“W-what about Ani?” You whispered, looking up at Rex with red, tear-stained eyes.

He just sighed and shook his head. “Holo channels said he died protecting the younglings in the Jedi Temple. He tried stopping the coup.”

You just bit your lip, feeling another wave of grief hit… your entire pack… gone…just like that.

“Shh,” Cid cooed. “It’s okay.”

Your entire body shook with hiccups.

“Did any other Jedi survive?” Hunter asked.

“Not that I know of,” Rex replied.

You whined.

“How about you all go talk somewhere else?” Cid snapped. “You’ve all upset her enough!”

They all went to stand when Wrecker let out a howl, clutching his head. Rex put his hand on your shoulder, kneeling and reaching for his gun. “What’s wrong with him?”

You noticed his hand on his blaster and suddenly leaned forwards, grabbing onto Rex’s armor. “He’s fine. He’s had a concussion and needs to go to a medical facility.”

Rex was suddenly very protective of you, scooching you under him like a worried parent. “Have you had your chips removed?”

Hunter went to his brother. “No, but they didn’t activate.”

“Just Crosshair’s,” Echo said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rex pulled out his weapon. The others returned the action, ready to defend their brother.

You whined, clutching onto Rex while Cid tried to defuse the situation. “Hey! Woah! No shooting in my bar!”

“I’ve seen what those do,” Rex snarled. “You cannot go on without taking them out… now! You’re a danger to everyone and everything. Even her!” He looked down at you.

They flinched at his tone. Clearly, this was bigger than they realized.

“How do we remove the inhibitor chips?” Tech asked, being diplomatic.

“I know a place,” Rex said. “But we’ll have to move quickly. I’m going to need your help, kid.”

You nodded and wiped away your tears. “I can help. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

~~~

The planet of Bracca was nothing more than a trash wasteland. The entire planet had been used as a junkyard, including retiring all of the Republic star cruisers and Venators. Rex explained everything Fives had found, including providing you with a copy of his findings that Ahsoka had retrieved. You studied the material, gaining a good understanding of what needed to be done.

“Are you sure the ship hasn’t been totally stripped?” Echo asked, following his old captain.

Tech helped you leap across a large gap in metal.

“I was here just a few days ago with some of our brothers,” he said. “I think the technology is still intact.”

“I sure hope so,” Hunter said, seeing the star cruiser in sight. "It seems it’s still mostly intact. Luckily, the metal strippers haven’t had much time yet to get at the innards."

As you approached the side of the ship, you noticed a couple of locals working on a door panel, taking out the wiring and salvaging what they thought might be valuable.

Rex snuck up on them, hitting them with stun blasts. The boys dragged the unconscious bodies inside the ship, keeping them out of sight while the rest of you clambered inside the massive ship.

Everything seemed to be pretty much the same and functional.

“It’s looking alright to me,” Tech said, turning on his flashlight to better inspect the interior.

“Alright, this way,” Rex said, leading you all to where the medical bay would be at the back of the vessel.

Hunter pushed you up and over some knocked-over crates before you all followed Rex down the main corridor, taking you right to the medical bay. “We have to switch on the ship’s reserve power for the machines to work.”

“I can do that,” Tech volunteered.

“Great,” Rex nodded.

“I’ll go with,” Echo said, walking with Tech to climb up to the bridge.

“As for this,” he said, looking at the undamaged medical machinery, “I’m still trying to figure out a way to do this without hurting anyone.”

“I can be of help,” you nodded. “I was reading Fives' file. It says Tup’s removal killed him, but I noticed a small error in the removal process.”

You plugged your datapad into the main holoscreen to look at Tup’s scans.

“Knowing what we know now, it was obvious the Kaminoan who performed his operation didn’t want him to survive. She intentionally nicked his cerebellum with the intention to turn him into a vegetable. Luckily, we did this surgery in our sleep back on Coruscant.”

“So you can do it?” Rex asked, hopeful.

“Absolutely,” you nodded. “Let me get this whole place sterilized before we begin.” You looked around, reaching into one of the drawers, pulling out sterilizing spray, and got to work cleaning the machinery.

Just when you were about finished, Tech got the power up and running to the medical bay, switching on the machines and medical droids.

They beeped at you, and you told them what needed to be finished. You pulled out a hair clipper and turned to Hunter. “Sorry, Sarge.”

He sighed and outstretched his hand. You placed the buzzer in his hand, and he turned to find a mirrored surface somewhere.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Wrecker asked, getting anxious.

You shook your head. “Nah. I’ll knock you out so you’ll be asleep. Best nap you’ll ever take.”

He sighed, feeling more relieved.

“Alright. Let’s get this done as quickly as possible. I don’t want more scrappers finding this place,” Rex nodded.

You heard Echo and Tech coming back into the room and turned to face them. “So, who wants to go first?”

~~~

Tech volunteered to go first, his trust in you evident in the resolute gaze he held as you prepared for the delicate procedure. He laid down on the medical table allowing you to begin.

With unwavering precision, you navigated the intricate network of his brain using the laparoscopic tools, honing in on the tumor-esque chip. With careful hands and steady focus, you delicately extracted the foreign object, a weighty burden lifted as it landed in the sterile dish.

"Atta girl," Rex's voice carried a note of admiration as he waited you operate. The hum of machinery filled the room as the repair sequence initiated, weaving its magic to mend the cellular damage within Tech’s skull.

Glancing over the scans, you couldn't help but shake your head at the evidence of neglect evident in his medical history. "It seems like he had a broken arm around the age of ten," you remarked, a tinge of sorrow coloring your tone. You could see where the bone had healed over. 

Wrecker confirmed with a nod in affirmation. "Oh yeah, I remember that. He fell off Crosshair’s shoulders trying to climb into an air vent when we were cadets."

The injustice of their past treatment weighed heavily on your mind, making you sigh of frustration. "Did none of you receive proper care there?"

Rex's response was tinged with bitterness. "Not really, kid. We weren’t regarded as people, you know? More like commodities."

The grim reality of their upbringing settled like a heavy fog in the room, but your attention quickly returned to Tech's progress, "He should be waking soon," you reassured, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

"Good," Hunter nodded in agreement. "Wrecker, you’re up next."

Despite his gruff exterior, Wrecker winced visibly as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. "Ugh! Argh!"

Recognizing the urgency, gesturing towards his head with a sense of resolve. "Sooner rather than later, Wrecker. We'll have you feeling better in no time."

As the others carefully moved Tech off the table and onto the floor, where the diligent droids attended to him, you turned your attention to Wrecker, offering a reassuring smile as you guided him onto the surgical table.

"Don’t worry, Alpha," you murmured soothingly, your fingers tracing the scar tissue on his temple. “It will be the best nap you’ve ever taken."

Though reluctant, Wrecker acquiesced, laying back with a resigned sigh. With practiced efficiency, you initiated the machinery. Placing an oxygen mask over his face, you administered the anesthesia, watching with relief as Wrecker succumbed to its effects, his troubled expression turned to easy slumber.

"Alpha, huh?" Rex's voice held a note of curiosity as he regarded you with a questioning expression, Just like Ani used to do when he knew you and Ahsoka had gotten into some mischief.

"It’s complicated," you replied with a wry smile, your focus unwavering as you monitored Wrecker's vital signs.

"How complicated?" Rex's arms folded across his chest, his stance was like a concerned parent.

You hesitated, your gaze flitting briefly to Hunter, Echo, and Tech before returning to Rex. "Very."

Rex’s brow furrowed in confusion as he attempted to decipher that cryptic response, but before he could press further, Tech stirred, the daze lifting from his eyes as he sat up slowly. "Did it work?"

With a warm smile, you nodded, relief flooding your senses at the sight of his returning consciousness. "Yes, Tech. It worked perfectly."

"Well, that is good news," Rex remarked, a hint of relief coloring his tone as he observed Tech's gradual return to lucidity.

With Tech's procedure successfully completed, you turned your attention to Wrecker, guiding him through the final stages of his own treatment with care. As the last traces of anesthesia faded, he roused from his slumber, his movements sluggish. 

“All done,” you announced, stepping back from the machine as the robots efficiently disposed of the biochip.

"All done," you said, stepping back from the machine, watching the robots take the biochip away and dispose of it.

"Good," Tech said, helping Wrecker come back to himself.

"What about Echo?" Wrecker asked.

"I checked; the chip was too damaged during his injuries on Skako Minor," you replied, watching Hunter slide back out unconscious on the table. "He’s no threat."

"Love to hear it," Echo smirked.

“Alright, I gotta get out of here and return to base,” Rex said, handing you a secure com device, “For emergencies, or if you just miss me.”

Rex gave you one last hug before disappearing down the hall and back towards his ship.

“We just have to wait for Hunter to wake and then we should be good to go,” you nodded, running your fingers through Hunter’s loose hair.

“That wasn’t bad at all,” Wrecker said, drinking some of Tech’s water.

“I told you,” you smiled, looking at the two alphas on the floor sitting cross-legged like children. It made you smile wondering what they were all like as cadets. Probably just as chaotic if not more.

Hunter started to stir, drawing your attention back to his beautiful face. Your fingers went to the spot behind his ear that gave him shivers. You scratched that spot and down his neck, causing him to wake up a bit more.

He hummed, enjoying your touch.

“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” you joked, tugging his hair lightly.

“Mmm, five more minutes,” he smiled, flashing you his white teeth.

“Here,” Tech stood at his side, helping him up and giving him some water to rehydrate.

Hunter greedily downed the water before grunting, trying to stand.

“Feeling okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, finding his feet and turning to face the others, “How long has it been?”

“A few hours since we touched down,” Tech said, checking his data pad, “I would advise we vacate this planet before any trouble arises, seeing as our business is done here.”

“Agreed,” Echo nodded.

You put your helmet back on and grabbed your pack.

“Are you feeling awake enough to travel?” You asked the three alphas.

They all nodded, assuring you that they were fine. It was still impressive to see their remarkable recovery times. The Kaminoans worked very hard designing them, apparently.

The hike up to the bridge felt like it was taking forever. Luckily, Tech got the lifts up and working, which was lovely, but you’d never been on a Star Destroyer before. It felt like double the size of Ani’s Venator.

The thoughts of the tall brunette Jedi made your heart clench, but you fought back the tears. This wasn’t the time or place for slipping back into your grieving. You had a mission to complete and right now, Tech needed to power down the ship

"Hey, guys!" Echo's voice crackled through your comms, a sharp interruption in the quiet hum of the ship. You pushed the button on the side of your helmet to respond, your voice slightly muffled by the gear, "What?"

"Wrecker and I found a literal ton of military-grade missiles and weapons systems down here. I think we could sell them for a small fortune," Echo said, excitement evident even through the crackling transmission.

Hunter replied with a heavy sigh, his voice tinged with skepticism, "So we're just going to become arms dealers now?"

"Well, we're already mercenaries, and these will be worth so much more than anything Cid could pay us."

Hunter's response was a resigned acceptance, "Okay, after we power down the vessel, we'll get the ship to load up what we can fit."

"Sarge, there are so many DC-15A's down here. They're the fancy carbine ones too," Wrecker practically drooled over the crates of guns, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Okay, we'll be on it once we reach the bridge," Hunter concluded. You trotted behind him, the rhythmic clank of your boots echoing in the metallic corridors, keeping pace with his determined stride and Tech's long legs before you all reached the bridge.

"Mesh'la, can you assist me?" Tech's voice was focused as he removed his pack, the urgency evident in his tone.

You nodded and knelt down next to him as he climbed under the console, the metal cold against your knees. He asked you to lay down next to him and hold a clump of wires while he started severing the connections he had made in order to power this monstrous ship.

As Tech was busy working, you noticed the faint sound of beeping coming from one of the machines, a subtle but persistent sound.

"What's that?" You asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

"What's what?" Tech paused his work to listen, his brow furrowing in concentration, "Oh, that's a proximity alarm."

"Proximity alarm?" Hunter repeated, his footsteps echoing as he approached, all you could see from under the console was his shins as he leaned over the controls.

"We've got incoming," he announced, his voice firm.

Your heart quickened its pace, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you and Tech dropped what you were doing to investigate the source of the alarm. In the distance, the unmistakable sound of TIE fighters closing in sent a chill down your spine.

”Imperials," Tech's tone was grim, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

Your blood ran cold.

"We need to leave now," you urged, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you felt the weight of impending danger pressing down upon you… but this was something more… you felt it tingle in your spine. 

"Let's get down to the others," Hunter agreed, and the three of you made a break for the lifts, the urgency of your footsteps echoing in the narrow corridors.

At a full sprint, you made it down to the weapons bay in record time, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you skidded to a stop. You were huffing and puffing, sweat trickling down your brow, but you found Wrecker and Echo in the distance, their figures silhouetted against the dimly lit bay, totally unaware of the impending danger.

"We gotta go!" Hunter's voice cut through the air like a knife, his urgency palpable as he waved for the others to follow.

They turned to look, their expressions shifting from curiosity to concern as the sound of gunfire rumbled through the ship. They must be opening fire trying to flush you all out.

You continued your sprint, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you grabbed a new fancy rifle from Wrecker as you ran for the back of the ship, following Tech's guidance.

"There should be an exit right around-" Tech's words were cut off by a red flash of blaster fire, the sound reverberating through the narrow corridor, making you yelp in surprise.

You all ducked and turned in the other direction, your footsteps quickening as you sprinted like your lives depended on it, the adrenaline propelling you forward. Echo provided cover fire as you turned out of the weapons bay and into the main hallway towards the nose of the ship, the sound of blaster fire echoing in the distance had your hair standing up on end. 

"They're going to do a forward-to-aft sweep. We can alternate corridors and get to the hangar bay," Echo's voice was calm but determined.

"I'll tap into their com systems," Tech's fingers danced across his datapad as he worked, his focus unwavering, "We can track their movements."

You all slowed down following Tech's directions, wondering how a ship his big ever managed to fly through space.

Hunter held up his hand, signaling for you all to stop, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of danger. You heard the crackling com chatter coming from their helmets as four regs passed through the halls on their sweep. You had to hold your breath, too scared they would be able to hear you.

When the coast was clear, Hunter gave the signal, and you all began your quick pace again, following Tech.

You heard a slight crackle in your own helmet before Tech had tuned you all into the Imperial channel…Then you heard the sound of your nightmares…

"All squads."

"Yes, sir."

"Push the targets towards the hangar. We'll pin them down."

"Roger that."

…Crosshair…

You sucked in a nervous breath, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as a chill ran down your spine. He was here… he found you.

You looked up at Hunter, even though you couldn’t see his face you sense him tense at Crosshair’s voice too.

"He found me," you whispered, the weight of his presence hitting you.

"We won't let him hurt you, adi'ka," Hunter promised.

"Actually," Tech stepped forward, his voice calm but resolute, "I think he's here for us. He doesn't know what happened to Y/N." Tech gestured to his brothers, his expression neutral "He probably thinks we got her killed. He's here for revenge. They wouldn't have opened fire on us and risk hurting his mate. I believe Crosshair thinks she's dead."

"Then we have to keep her disguise intact," Echo nodded in your direction.

"We can't go to the hangar bay anymore," you reminded, your voice tinged with urgency, "How the hell are we getting off this ship?"

"We'll go to the artillery deck instead and climb our way down," Hunter decided.

The artillery deck wasn’t too far from your current location; it was the center of the ship, and Tech chose the side that was slightly tilted towards the ground for an easier descent. With the help of his datapad and Echo's scomp, the two clones opened the blast doors, revealing the massive ion cannons sitting there in the decrepit deck, their imposing presence a grim reminder of the firepower at the republic’s disposal.

As a medic, you had never been to this part of a Republic vessel, the sight of the massive cannons almost made you cower. You were familiar with the sounds those cannons would make in action, but you hadn't ever seen it in person yourself, the gravity of the situation sinking in as you took in the sight before you.

The boys quickly cleared the room, their movements swift and purposeful as they prepared for the descent ahead. 

Wrecker shifted uncomfortably, his unease evident even through his helmet, "Uhh… okay, I’m not going down that way."

"There they are!" The sound of voices made you all flinch and spin around to find the regs filing in, guns drawn.

You heard the sound of their blasters powering up, and you swallowed heavily. You were karked…

"Tapping our comms to track our movements? So predictable…" Crosshair’s silvery voice gave made your spine tingle, his presence like death itself. You caught Crosshair’s gaze clock you, but he didn’t seem to care as he focused on his main target, his eldest brother. You realized that he really believed you to be dead, even though you stood a mere few feet from him. Your heart raced.

Hunter spun around to face his brother, his expression unreadable behind his helmet, his resolve unwavering despite the looming threat. Wrecker stuck his head out, his voice tinged with defiance, "Nice to see you too, Crosshair."

Tech leaned to Echo, his voice low but urgent, "Reroute reserve power to the cannons."

Echo very discreetly knelt down to scomp into the system and began working on the computers, his movements swift and purposeful despite the chaos unfolding around you.

“You know if these fire, the whole deck will collapse,” Echo whispered back.

“Exactly.” Tech replied. 

You didn’t like the sound of that…

Crosshair then lowered his weapon, handing it to his second in command, the tension in the air palpable as he moved with purpose. The female trooper took it as Crosshair went to remove his helmet.

When the airlock disengaged and his face was finally visible, you had to hold back the gasp at seeing his features, the sight of him made your heart ache. His eyes were sunk in and surrounded by purple rings, the dark circles a stark reminder of the toll that the broken bond had taken on him. He looked exhausted, his features drawn and haggard. He hadn’t been sleeping… he looked awful. 

His entire figure was leaner, his frame gaunt and emaciated. The alpha has been suffering, his pain evident even through the stoic facade he wore. You heart broke looking upon him. 

"You’re going to tell me exactly what happened to her," he growled, his voice low and menacing. Hunter immediately saw the rage flooding his brother's eyes, the fury simmering just beneath the surface. Crosshair looked feral.

Hunter hesitated, his expression unreadable behind his helmet, his gaze meeting Crosshair's with steely resolve.

“She died, Cross,” Hunter lied, his voice steady despite the weight of the lie.

“Fucking TELL ME!” He raised his voice, the sound reverberating through the narrow corridor, his rage palpable even through the crackling comms.

Hunter was trying to fabricate a believable story that Crosshair would believe.

"The bond killed her. You betrayed her, and it killed her.” Hunter squeezed his pistol tighter.

“Liar!” He snarled, his voice low and menacing, his gaze locked with Hunter's in a silent battle of wills, “You couldn’t handle that she belonged to me… and you fucking killed her!”

“That’s not true, Crosshair. We tried to help her. We—we tried…” Hunter sighed, his voice tinged with regret, his words a silent plea for understanding, “she wasn’t strong enough to survive the bond.”

“You betrayed her, brother,” Tech added, his voice neutral, “when you almost shot her for the pup. You know why they had to put her in stasis. Yes, she told us. Your betrayal damaged the soul bond. It took her life.”

Crosshair roared, his fury echoing through the narrow corridor, his rage was nearly painful to listen to. He was getting angrier, it was consuming him. The grief of loosing his mate had taken a toll on the sniper.

Crosshair pressed the side of the blaster to his temple and his hand to the other as he was taking in this information. He was starting to become deranged, his sanity slipping away, his grip on reality growing ever more tenuous with each passing moment. The loss of a mate was maddening, the weight of his grief threatening to consume him whole, his rage boiling over like a violent storm.

The once stoic sniper was muttering to himself, his words a frantic whisper as he cursed the maker.

“Echo… any time now,” Tech signaled, his voice urgent, his words a silent plea for a much needed distraction. Echo could sense that Crosshair was close to shooting Hunter.

When the ARC trooper looked up, you knew it was time to brace, your heart pounding in your chest as the tension in the air reached its breaking point, your adrenaline coursing through your veins like a wildfire.

“Kill them,” Crosshair ordered.

Before anyone could move an inch, Echo powered up the cannons, watching them slide along the floor and punch out Crosshair and some of the troopers in a wild fury. 

Before you knew it, the floor was giving out, and all of you were free-falling down into the floors below. Unfortunately, the damage to the ship was greater than you anticipated, and you all got separated as the integrity of the ship dissolved.

You watched the artillery deck, or what was left of it, rise further and further out of your reach as you plummeted into the floors below with a scream. You felt the hard impact of a smooth piece of metal hit your back before your head collided, making you go numb

You groaned, watching everything become fuzzy as you tried to focus on your surroundings.

You were fading in and out of consciousness, fighting to stay awake but the damage has been done. You were certain you had a concussion amongst other things. The pain in your shins confirmed this theory. But, the fight in you wasn’t over, and the knowledge that Crosshair was nearby with an army of soldiers had you forcing yourself up onto your hands and knees, trying to regain control of your body out of survival.

“There’s movement over here,” you heard the voice of a reg behind you. When you looked down, you noticed your hand was bleeding, cut up on some sharp metal. You bit back a yelp before forcing yourself up on wobbly legs and heading towards the side of the ship again clutching your injured hand to your chest.

“Hey,” you heard Wrecker call out to you, and you stumbled over to him pushing through the dust. From where he stood, he could see the true extent of all the damage. The entire ceiling had caved in, leaving just a few troopers to look down from the rotting structure above.

“We have to move,” Wrecker said, guiding you to an opening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m bleeding,” you showed him your hand. You were still a little dazed from the fall.

“We have to get you back to the ship,” Wrecker said, closing his hands over yours in a comforting manner.

Your helmet was still dialed into Crosshair’s. “Drop the charge,” you heard him say.

You looked over Wrecker’s shoulder, seeing the troopers above throw a handful of detonators down towards your level carelessly.

“Wrecker!” you yelled, yanking him towards the hole in the side of the ship, but it was too late; the blasts went off, punching you out of the side of the ship with the force of the explosion.

All you remember seeing was the side of the Star Destroyer and Wrecker’s hand outstretched to yours as you plummeted down into the junkyard below. Your fingers missed by mere seconds before you were swept into unconsciousness once again.

~~~

Crosshair had recovered from the hit of the ion cannon to find the entire floor had been dropped out, leaving his brothers scattered in the rubble below.

Not knowing if they had even survived, he ordered the bombs to be dropped just to be safe. Once the space was cleared, he and his men rappelled down into the rubble to confirm the kills.

He grabbed his rifle, raising his nose in the air, trying to pick up on his brother’s blood scent over the smell of incendiaries.

“Sir,” one of the troopers removed his helmet, making Crosshair’s blood boil; he was violating code. He had the reprimand on the tip of his tongue.

The trooper bent down, pushing his fingers into a puddle of fresh blood. “It’s… Omega,” he brought his fingers up to his nose.

Forgetting his previous thoughts, he walked over to bend down and repeat the trooper's actions. When he brought the red liquid up to his nose, his heart nearly stopped.

Omega… his Omega… his mate.

They lied…

Did he just drop bombs on his beloved mate? Crosshair’s entire reality was spinning.

He sniffed the precious blood one more time before looking around wildly… she was alive. She was here. And he just ordered them to kill her. His entire insides flipped, making him feel violently ill. He forced back the bile rising in his throat as the anxiety filled his senses.

“She’s here,” he growled. “Find her! Sweep the whole fucking ship!”

Crosshair began to look under the rubble, sniffing for more blood. He picked up on a trail of small drips leading him back to the side of the ship. That was a good sign.

She must have climbed down the side. Crafty little thing.

When he peered over the edge, he saw a small figure lying on a piece of sheet metal down below.

Shit.

Snapping his rappelling cable into place, Crosshair descended the side of the ship, lowering himself until his boots touched the metal below. He unclipped and ran over to the limp figure, kneeling down next to the body. He was confused to see a little mandalorian curled up on her side. He noted the blood smeared on the surface below her and knew suddenly it was this woman who left the trail. 

“Please, Maker,” he begged in a whisper. “Please.”

He placed both hands under the beskar helmet, unclipping the airlock and lifted it slowly. His breath was punched out of his chest when your hair came tumbling out of the helmet, and he laid eyes on your beautiful face once again. You were alive.

“Y/N,” he sighed, bringing a gloved hand up to your brow, touching the massive gash slashing through it. You were hurt… badly.

“Thank the Maker,” he felt relief flood his entire body. He commed into his team, “I have her.” He said with confidence and relief. 

“She’s alive?” his second radioed back.

He grabbed one of his blaster reflectors and held the metal under your nose. He saw the mirror fog up, letting him know you were still breathing.

“She’s alive,” he confirmed, putting the reflector back on his hip before slinging his gun around his shoulder to cradle you.

“We’re making our way to your location,” she cut the line.

Crosshair leaned forward, gently supporting your head with his hands, lifting you up from the ground and sitting you up against his chest. He held onto you tightly, unable to resist the rumbling purr coming from his chest finally feeling his torment begin to lift.

“Commander?” his second approached cautiously. “Is she alright?”

“No,” Crosshair was distressed. “She fell from the blast. I need the medic.”

“I’m here, sir,” the medic came forward, dropping to his knees at Crosshair’s side.

“She’s breathing, but she’s hurt,” Crosshair showed him your cut-up brow and hand.

“I’ll give her some bacta, but we need to get her back to base,” the medic said, scanning your body. “She’ll need a full evaluation, but I’ll do what I can.” 

“Do what you need to do,” Crosshair said. “Her survival is the most important thing.” He continued to stroke your hair as the medic spread bacta to the massive gash in your brow, along with cleaning and wrapping up your hand.

Crosshair suddenly felt like there were eyes on him. He looked up, surveying the area, searching for the familiar helmets of his brothers. He was certain they were watching; they wouldn’t leave Y/N behind… not when they tried so hard to keep her hidden from him. 

~~~

“Crosshair has her,” Echo confirmed, zooming in his scope.

Hunter hissed as Tech stuffed gauze into the wound in his side. During the explosion, they had all been separated, and Hunter had been flung into the side of some shrapnel that managed to miss his armor by an inch. The metal pierced his side, making the sergeant wince.

“We can’t let him take her,” Wrecker snarled. He just had you… you were so close.

“We’re outnumbered,” Tech said factually. “Crosshair will have us executed now that he has her. He doesn’t know that killing us will kill her. The best thing we can do for her is to stay alive and figure out a plan to get them both back.”

“Then we’ll track their ship,” Echo nodded. “We know they’re taking omegas back to Naboo.”

“Get the trackers on those ships,” Hunter forced himself up onto his knees, ignoring the blazing pain in his side. “She’ll need us.”

“Hold on,” Tech urged. “We have to get you to a medical facility. That metal was in deep.”

“I’m fine,” he growled, but his little brother pushed him back down, shaking his head. “You’re going to bleed out if you keep moving around.” Tech was getting frustrated. Being split like this was making his heart ache. On the one hand, you were unconscious in the care of their mind-controlled murderous brother, and on the other, Hunter lay in front of him, injured more than he’s ever been.

There was no chance they’d get out of this intact if they tried chasing you down. To Tech, the solution was clear… they were going to have to let you go with Crosshair.

Echo watched Crosshair kneel down, picking up your limp body and holding you close to his chest as they began to walk back to the transport ship climbing the ramp.

“He’s taking her onto the ship. The troopers are loading in,” Echo narrated.

“Take the shot,” Hunter ordered, gritting his teeth as Tech wrapped tight bandages around his torso.

Wrecker handed Echo the rifle, twisting on the long-distance barrel. Echo pulled out a tracker from his utility belt and loaded it into the chamber.

He waited for the loading ramp to close shut behind Crosshair before aiming the rifle. He locked onto the side where no one would see it and fired the bullet. He watched the little circular tracker magnetize to the side of the ship, starting its transmission signal.

“I got it,” Echo confirmed, looking to his data pad. He watched the beacon signal back to his tech. “We got you, Tiny.” He watched the imperial vessel unfold its wings before the ship powered up and lifted into the air taking you off planet. 

DADDY'S HOME

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

@sxftiebee

@booksandtitts-blog

[rexscanonwife]

Real talk I love Anakin...so much 🥺🥺💖💖 God it's so funny cause when you watch the clone wars you KNOW how that story ends and you don't wanna love him but you do.

That's the true tragedy of him, how loved he REALLY was, but how blinded by years of abuse and manipulation he was to it 😭😭😭

[randomrosewrites]

The aftermath of the tempest

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x GN reader Summary: Many, many years after Kaedehara Kazuha fled from Inazuma, a lot of things have changed, but his past burdens remain. Or, Kazuha has settled into his new life in Liyue, but still desires his home across the ocean. Words: ~2.7K Tags: Fluff, established relationship, Kaz and reader have a kid, gn pronouns for reader, kaz gets emotional at some point, implied beigguang as well

a/n: What's this? Rose is actually writing??!!

Read it on ao3!

The young girl furrows her brows, front teeth catching her lip as she stares at the board. She's in deep concentration, barely paying any mind to the sweets or the apple cider (poured within a much too expensive cup) beside her.

Her opponent, on the other hand, is the opposite, holding a cup of tea within her palms, white steam drifting from the cup the same colour as her hair. A mystical smile on the woman’s face gives nothing away.

The young girl places a hand on a chip. Then hesitates, thinking a moment more before making a move.

The woman sets her cup down, ruby eyes scanning over the board before she lifts a jewelled hand, moving chips across the board in great succession.

"And with that, I believe I win," Ningguang says. "You did very well this time."

The young girl pouts, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"Oh, don't tear up. It's alright," Ningguang produces a handkerchief and holds it out.

The girl takes it gratefully, hiding her face in the cloth. "Uh- huh."

Ningguang exhales. Children are so delicate, like the petals of glaze lilies. "How about you go to the other room? I'll clean up here."

The girl nods, and slides off her chair. "Can I take my juice?"

"Of course, you may. But remember to hold it carefully."

She nods.Holding the cup carefully with two hands, she slides open the silk screen and enters the next room.

Your head turns at the sound, looking up from your spot by the window: perched upon a lounge chair, feet up. You smile and gesture for the girl to sit beside you. She sets her cup down and crawls next to you, burying her face in your chest.

"How did your game go, Haruko?" You ask, combing her hair free of tangles.

Haruko shakes her head and a sniffle escapes her. "I lost."

You hum sympathetically, “I'm sorry. There's always next time. You and Lady Ningguang were playing for a really long time! Good job."

Harukao's grip loosens a smidge. "Thank you."

The screen door slides open again and Ningguang steps through. The material of her gold dress drags behind her as she walks, the movement smooth as water. She has a familiar treat nestled in the palm of her hands, a famous Liyue sweet candy.

You nudge Harkuo gently. She lifts her head, crimson eyes widening when she sees the candy. She scrambles out of your lap.

Seeing them side by side, Haruko looks more like Ningguang’s daughter than yours. Their eye colour and hair are almost identical. But Ningguang has high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, whereas Haruko has round, filled in cheeks, like her father.

"For you," Ningguang offers it to Haruko. "As thanks for an excellent game of checkers."

Haruko takes the candy with an excited beam on her face. "Thank you, Aunt Ningguang!"

“You are most welcome.”

With the candy, Haruko’s sadness about losing the match is all but forgotten. She rummages through one of the cabinets by the wall, pulling out a colouring book (A collection of cartoon-like Rex Lapis drawings in his dragon form) and the crayons that are specifically kept there.

Many years had passed since the first golden house went crashing into the ocean after the battle with the Ancient God Osial. But the loss only pushed Ningguang to rebuild the new one, bigger, more elegant, and efficient than the last.

Currently, it was parked atop Mount Tianheng, overlooking the harbour. It was fancy, the walls a rich cream and the floors polished dark brown. Some things had to be kid-proofed (especially when Haruko was younger and Beidou insisted on bringing her to visit.) But now, she’s old enough, and familiar enough with the building, that you’re not worried. Not even by the koi pond that circles the living room.

Ningguang plants herself across from you on the couch as Haruko begins to colour in Rex Lapis’ tail. “She’s growing bigger and bigger every day.”

You nod in agreement. “I swear, she’ll be taller than her father soon enough.”

Ningguang laughs. “Sooner or later.”

Haruko’s finished two drawings and is on the third when you look outside the window to the Port of Liyue harbour, glimmering with the midday sun. The familiar outline of the Alcor’s sail and ship dots the horizon. You stand up.

"Are you finished with your juice, Haruko? We're going to get ready soon."

She perks up. "Is dad here?"

You smile at her. "Yes. Almost. You want to be the first to greet him, don't you?"

She nods adamantly, hurrying to put away her things in their proper places.

"There are some ingredients in the kitchen if you'd like to prepare a lunch before you depart," Ningguang suggests.

“Thank you,” you say to her, before turning to your daughter. “What would you like to make?”

She thinks for a moment. “What do you think dad would like?”

“Hm. Anything that isn’t fish,” you make your way to the kitchen, Haruko following closely behind. “After a month at sea, I think he’s sick of fish.”

---

Lunch made and packaged, you and Haruko begin the long walk down to the Port. Steps of green plaustrite appear as you walk. They used to frighten Haruko terribly. Now, though, she loves the way they appear under her feet and disappear when she steps off.

“Watch your steps,” you remind her. Though you trust Ningguang’s architects, you want her to be careful.

“Uh-huh,” Haruko says, half-listening. She’s always distractible on these types of days.

Kazuha isn’t a frequent member onboard the Alcor anymore, but occasionally Beidou will plead with him to accompany her. She says his anemo vision makes cutting through enemies so much easier.

Kazuha will go on month-long voyages with the Crux, maybe two months if he feels like it, but refuses anything more. He doesn’t want to spend time away from you or your daughter.

By the time you arrive at the docks, you’re sweating and the Alcor is pulling into the harbour. Haruko hops up on a dock anchor, waving to the ship.

“Hi!”

A deafening honk sounds from the ship, making Haruko laugh. Then again. Then once more. Honk honk honk honk-

Jeez, Ningguang can probably hear the boat from Mount Tianheng.

Haruko stands back just enough so that the sailors can tie the boat off and lower the gangplank, then she’s rushing onboard the ship. A woman hops down from the wheel, holding out her arms as Haruko leaps into them.

“Auntie Beidou!”

“Hiya Haru!” Beidou grins, swinging your daughter around in a bear hug, long brown hair flying everywhere. “How have you been? Jeez, you’re getting tall!”

“Good! Aunt Ningguang said she misses you.”

Beidou’s grin widens. “Has she, now?”

“Beidou,” you greet sweetly. (Walking on board with much more restraint.) “It’s good to see you’re well.”

Her eye softens. Haruko slowly slides out of her arms. “The same to you. I thought you guys were coming to meet us tomorrow?”

Your house, the one you and Kazuha have, is right on the border between Mondstadt and Liyue. It’s far from the port but it’s quiet, nestled by the beaches of Yaoguang Shoal.

“Well, Ningguang offered us to stay last night, so we did. Haruko wanted to see her dad as soon as possible.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, good to see you again.” Beidou turns to Haruko, mischievous smile on her face. “Your dad’s gonna be thrilled, watch this.”

She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Kaz!”

High up on the mast, a tuft of white hair pops out from the crow’s nest. You smile and give a wave. The tuft disappears, and quick as the wind, the man reappears, hastily scaling down the mast.

He jumps the rest of the way and rolls to his feet, brushing white hair from his eyes, and is promptly tackled by Haruko, nearly losing his balance.

“Daddy!” she squeals.

“Haruko,” Kazuha grins, hoisting her up to rest against his side. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

“Good, dad. How was your trip? What did you do? Did you see any scary monsters?”

“Scary monsters, hm, I may have encountered a few.”

“You gotta tell me over lunch – can we eat it in the bird's nest? We made lunch for you!”

“Crow’s nest,” Kazuha corrects gently. “And really? Wow. Did you help make it?”

“Uh-huh! But I’m not telling you what it is; it’s a surprise! You’ll have to open it like a present.”

“That sounds lovely, Haruko. Thank you.”

You walk up to them and press a kiss to Kazuha’s cheek. “Hi, Kaz.”

“Hello, love,” Kazuha purrs, leaning into your touch. “You look stunning.”

Beidou guaffs, Haruko’s nose wrinkles. “Ew.”

(She used to scream at Kazuha to stop whenever he’d recite sappy love poems to you, covering his mouth with both hands so he’d stop talking. It always made you laugh.)

You pull away from Kazuha and save your daughter and Beidou from your ‘gross’ affections. “The journey to Inazuma ok?”

His eyes briefly harden. He smiles tightly. “It was alright.”

There’s a hidden we’ll talk about this later in his voice, unnoticed by Haruko. She wriggles and Kazuha sets her down.

“Can we climb the mast now?”

Kazuha takes her hand, “Ask the captain.”

“Auntie – Captian Beidou, can we climb the mast please?”

Beidou ruffles her head. “Of course you can, kid. Keep an eye out for me on there, yeah?” Then to Kazuha. “I gotta run some errands on land. If I’m not back by the time you’re gone, thanks for everything.”

Kazuha raises a brow. “Might those ‘errands’ have anything to do with that golden brocade you bought?”

Beidou just waves and grins, trotting off the gangplank and jogging towards the Jade Chamber.

---

The crow’s nest is really only meant for one person standing up, much less three adults and one child, but you make it work. Haruko is obviously given the best seat, you’re squashed beside her, and Kazuha balances on the edge of the nest, legs dangling over the air.

“Why can’t I do that?” Haruko asks as you unpack lunch.

“Because it’s dangerous. Your dad’s very experienced and can catch himself if he falls.”

You’ve seen it happen many times before. Kazuha losing his footing or grip, that split second when he fell and your heart stopped. Then the gust of air that followed, propelling himself back up to safety.

“Once you’re bigger, you can do this,” Kazuha says.

Haruko huffs. “You always say that…”

He chuckles and pats her head. “We just want you safe, is all.”

You pass out bowls and chopsticks around. Kazuha helps affix a chopstick holder to Haruko’s (she’s getting better, but it’s still a challenge to her.) Haruko insists Kazuha close his eyes as you pour out lunch.

“Ok, you can open them!” she says once things are all set.

Kazuha opens his eyes. A steaming bowl of Jueyun Guoba rests in his hands. Juicy cuts of ham, crisp Jueyun chilis, and the rich aroma enough to make your mouth water.

“Ta-dah! What do you think?”

“Oh, Haruko, it looks divine. You made this?”

“Yep! Hurry and taste it!”

Kazuha takes a bite, closing his eyes. “Delicious. So tasty. Captain Beidou should hire you as a chef, or better yet, wanmin restaurant should hire you.”

Haruko grins ear to ear, “Hehe, thank you.”

As you all eat, Kazuha tells you all about the adventures from his trips. How he saw the most beautiful of flowers, or how he fought a translucent glowing eel, Captian Beidou cooked it up and ate it, how she was sick for three straight days afterwards.

Haruko listens to him intently, staring at Kazuha with such a light in her eyes that makes your stomach flutter with pride.

You snuggle closer to Haruko, wrapping an arm around her. The three of you like actual crows, tucked high away, safe from the clutches of the outside world.

---

Haruko wears Kazuha out that day.

She seems to want to do everything Kazuha missed for the past month in a single day. You told her she needn’t rush – Kazuha wasn’t going away any time soon - but that didn’t deter her in the slightest.

You soak your feet in the icy ocean and search for seashells in the sand. You catch crystal flies in the old ruins, delighting in the way Haruko’s face lights up when the yellow wings fade, leaving just the core. You scale one of the many stone cliffs just to enjoy the view as Kazuha plays a tune from a passing leaf.

On your way home, you get some mora meat from a vendor and share the remaining candies from Ningguang as the sun dips below the horizon. When Haruko’s eyes begin to droop, Kazuha carries her on his back the rest of the way home.

Kazuha brushes the hair from her face, kissing her forehead delicately. “Good night, my starlight. May your dreams be as sweet as shooting stars.”

“Poetic,” you murmur, barely containing a laugh.

Kazuha’s eyes gleam as the two of you tuck the covers tight around Haruko, kiss her once more for good measure, then gently close the door on her bedroom.

Finally, alone, Kazuha wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head against your shoulder and sighing.

“Tired, pretty boy?” you ask, a lilt of mirth in your voice.

Kazuha hums in agreement, releasing you to intertwine your fingers. He gazes at you, eyes-half lidded, and presses a smattering of kisses to your hand.

“Shall we go on a walk?”

You glance at Haruko’s bedroom.

“Don’t worry,” Kazuha reassures you. “The wind will watch over her.”

You’re tired, but you’ve also missed Kazuha enough to fight off your slumber. You both wrap up, then make the walk down to the sandy pools of Yougung. The full moon is high in the sky, the breeze cool against your skin.

“Things are still bad over in Inazuma,” Kazuha begins, softly. The wind almost carries his voice away. “It’s gotten better. The vision hunt decree is struck down. Some visions have been returned to the people, but things are still very tense over there…It’s not a place where I want to bring our daughter…”

You squeeze his fingers tightly. It’s felt like ages since you first met Kazuha, when he was just a spry young man onboard the crux. His hair was shorter, he still wore bandages over his arm to hide his injuries from escaping Inazuma.

Now, he lets his hair loose. He wears more Liyue-style clothing. His right hand – the one in your grasp, has healed. Though the physical pain has left, the scars remain.

“I miss my homeland,” Kazuha croaks. “I love what I have with you – I love our home. But a part of me feels forever trapped in Inazuma. Longing for it. I-” He shakes his head, speckles of crystal tears forming in his eyes. Your heart aches at the sight.

“It’s alright, Kazuha,” you wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back. “I can’t begin to understand what that feels like…but I can be here to help you.”

“I just fear-“ he chokes, gripping your shirt. “I fear I’ll never be able to see it again. I’ll never get to bring Haruko to see the cherry blossoms that bloom in spring, or let her feed the cats that roam the islands like wanderers.”

Though you want to, though every part of you wants to assure him he’ll see it, you can’t promise him that. He knows it as well.

You comb your fingers through his hair as his tears stain your shirt. “If that’s the case - If things never get better in our lifetime - then we will make the most of it. Nothing lasts forever. Inazuma will one day change.”

You pull his head from your shoulder to meet his eyes. They’re red and puffy. You rub your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away tear tracks.

“But no matter what, we’ll see it through together.”

Kazuha covers your hand with his, leaning into your touch. “Thank you, love. I am forever grateful that I get to spend my life with you.”

You rest your forehead against his, pressing forward just enough so your lips touch.

“Forever,” you murmur. “And then beyond where the wind lies.”

[emperor-palpaminty]

My family, my home (pt1)

Prompt: Rex stopped on Saleucami to greet Cut, his family, and his (reader) farm hand. 

You sat back against the warm wooden wall and watched Cut load the Eopie with supplies for the Clone Captian. You turned and walked inside, glancing up at the broken floor above. You sighed softly, shaking your head, watching Sheea and Jek run outside, calling your name. “Come on! Come play with us.”

“In a moment!” You chuckled. You’d been a hand on the Lawquane for several years and you loved watching the children grow and come to know Cut as their father. Suu was nothing but an absolute gem and treated you almost like her own child. Cut was accepted right into the family, and you had helped teach him about farming. He had adjusted well.

But when the soldier had come to the farm, you grabbed your harvesting scythe and moved the children behind you, brandishing your weapon. You knew Suu could care for herself, with the eye and patience of a sniper. The clones with him requested a place to let the captain heal, and Suu, being soft hearted, or perhaps seeing Cut’s face on the wounded soldier, had opened her home to him.

You didn’t actually met the man until chased Sheea into the barn, who had (purposfully, the coursious kid she was), and you grabbed the ball for her. “Sheea,” you scolded softly as she glanced up sheepishly at the man. You glanced up at the clone, at the moment he looked at you, and his eyebrows raised and he draped his arm and bandage over his bare torso to give himself some desency. You offered a half a smile and turned away. “Come on, Sheea.”

“You look like my dad!” Sheea burst out, beaming.

Suu shot a glance at you, brow furrowing slightly. “Sheea, get inside with your brother.”

You gave the men a curt nod and turned away, leading the girl away. You felt eyes pressing against your back. 

The next time you met him, was when Cut had a farming pike to his neck. You swallowed hard, swiftly moving to the man, who was now sitting up, and he came face to face with you. You glared at him, but Cut’s gentle hand pressed you to the side. “Easy, y/n. The Captain is joining us for dinner.”

The children, when they came outside, had agreed happily. You did not. Through dinner, you glared daggers, and as Cut settled the man, Rex, to a round of holochess, you sunk down next to Suu and continued glaring.

Eventually, after the kids went outside, Cut stood from the table. “Turns out, my farmhand here is an excellent holochess player.” He reached out gingerly for you, tugging you up. “Why don’t you give Rex here a run for his money? Sure are better than I am.” His brows raised and the smile on his face was plesant, encouraging.

With a sigh, you sat down and made your first move- your rancor lept at his space worm. The silence from you was tense, only the clicking of the controls under your hands, as you manipulated the figures. 

“You haven’t said a word to me.” Rex’s tone was a statement, but lilted like a question. You glanced up, half surprised at how different his voice sounded and how different he looked from Cut. “Not fond of clones?”

“Men that are going to take away my family.” You frowned. You looked up at him. “If you want to get on my good side, you’d better treat them like it.”

That night, Rex had almost died protecting them, and you had thanked him, in tears and exhausted, and went to sleep upstairs with the kids. and now, here you were, waiting for him to leave.

You heard a noise behind you and you turned. “Oh, Rex.” You glanced up at the ceiling and laughed softly. “Good job, by the way. I get to fix that.”

“I can stay and help-” He started.

You chuckled, climbing the stairs, and letting him follow. “No, it’s okay. I like fixing things.”

Rex watched you climb around the hole, watched you take it in. "So, have I earned your favor?" He rolled his arm, helmet neatly tucked under it. "I hope so."

"You have," You admitted, standing and moving towards him. "Thanks." You dusted off your hands, taking his helmet and tracing over the blue symbols above the visor.

Rex, noting your interest, spoke. "They're jaig eyes. Big in my- the Mandalorian culture." He paused. "I'm not... Mandalorian. No culture, really."

You frowned, tilting your head. "You and Cut had a special... connection." You paused. "You have your brothers. You love them. I could hear it last night and saw how you fought last night for Cut and the rest of us." You stepped closer, hand pressing on his helmet. "I just... I wanted to thank you."

Rex's eyes flicked down to the helmet, over your hand, then up at your eyes, lips pursed in mid-question. You leaned forward, briefly, and pressed your lips gently to his. He made a noise of shock, but his hand flew up and pressed lightly into your back. You sighed, tugging away, stepping back, hand moving off his helmet.

He stared, face red, coughing slightly. You smoothed back your hair and cleared your throat. "Thank you, Captain." You started to move past him, but he reached out and touched your arm.

"Hey." He paused, then reached down for the belt around his waist. He tugged out a small silver comm, holding it out. "This is a commlink with scrambled codes, only accsess to the 501st channel. Just.. ask for me if you- of Cut, or anyone here- needs me."

You looked down, then closed your fingers around the small device, smiling gently at him. "I hope I never need to."

___

When he left, you kept working and fixing machines and weapons. Life went back to boring, except figuring out how to reprogram the somewhat in-tact commando droids to be helpful during the harvest season. In between that and playing, the winter season rolled around.

You kept the comm on you.

After a long day, the bitter cold gnawing at her, you finally gave in to the teasing that your lips remembered, the small of your back remembered, of his hand. You picked it up and coughed slightly. "Hello?"

The radio cackled, then sputtered and, protesting, a voice came through. "... get on this? Who is this?"

"I'm a friend of Rex," you mumbled. Did this have a volume? This comm should have a volume. "My family and I patched him up after he got shot."

There was mumbling on the other side, chuckling, and a bunch of comversation starting up. "In what capacity do you know Rex?"

"Uh." You hesitated. "We're... friends?"

"Friends, huh? Sure, sure, anything for a friend of good old Captain Rex."

There was a click and silence. You stood and paced the room, anxiety rubbing you raw, and the beeping stopped.

You clutched the comm, staring at it. That silence would kill you.

A voice, from the other side, cackled to life. Even though it was almost the same as the man before, you recognized the cadance, the tone, as Rex. "... (y/n)?"

[kyber-queen]

Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 3

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, weeks before the Siege of Mandalore. In this chapter, Rex and Reader are prepping for a mission on an outer rim planet. Some fluff, slight angst, Rex gets to use a lightsaber because I say so. Italics signify a flashback in this fic. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Mentions of children/family planning ??, insecure Rex, k*sses, mentions of blasters n violence against droids, mentions of alcohol

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie this is probably my favorite chapter yet. It’s a little longer, but I think it’s worth it :) Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

Previous | Next

****************************************

After your less than satisfying encounter in the maintenance closet, you had made an early retirement to your quarters to sulk. You slept, but your dreams were ridden with visions of a certain bleach-blond captain. You awoke the next morning ill-rested and heartsick.

You showed up late to your first tactical meeting with the upper ranks of the 501st in a disgruntled mess of dark undereyes and wrinkled robes. If Rex noticed your sleep-deprived state, he made no mention of it. You had positioned yourself strategically in the back of the room, precisely so if you peeked between the admirals, you could clearly see Rex discussing troop formations with General Skywalker. His structured brow was furrowed, and you noted the way he gestured at the maps as he made his point. He was so much more confident now, so much more self-assured than that often-anxious shiny you remembered from training drills two years ago. Maybe that was why he gave you the cold shoulder yesterday—had he outgrown you? Two years was a long time, especially during a war. Did he find someone new? Your heart burned at the thought. You hadn’t even tried to move on—at times, at your lowest points, you considered it, but you never gave up on him. You had broken your code for him. You had broken it every day since you met him, and yet here he was, the picture of cordial indifference. You were attached, deeply and painfully. Did he still care about you?

“Commander, I can hear your gears turning—any input?” Skywalker looked at you expectantly.

You eased your tired features into a placating smile. “Looks good to me, General,”.

“Perfect. Rex, you’ll go with the commander. I want you two waiting just outside the village. The Separatists should arrive within around two hours of landing. Comm me when you see the Separatist forces coming, and you guys cut down as many of the first wave as possible. I’ll circle around with the rest of the 501st and we’ll finish off the rest from behind. All clear?”

You nod in assent as Rex answers with a decisive, “Yes, sir,”.

***

Rex was going to have to have a conversation with his general after this. Your very first mission with the 501st, and Skywalker had paired you with Rex on a glorified stakeout of all things. Rex was pissed. He had decided as soon as he found out you would be consulting with the 501st that he would keep his distance. He knew it wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t seen each other in years—war makes love near impossible. He was more upset with himself for falling for a Jedi. It was against the law for either of you to have an attachment to each other. Rex had fallen in love, and it was a stupid, shitty idea. He had spent the better part of two years trying to bury his memories of you, and just as he was beginning to succeed, here you were creeping back into his mind. Just the sight of you threw him back to two years ago—back when he was really, truly happy. Rex was built for war, nothing more. The problem with you was that being with you made him think otherwise. When you were together, you would always talk about ‘after the war’. Rex knew that as a clone, there really wouldn’t be an after. You, with your altruism and soft smiles and gentle touches were everything Rex didn’t need.

Rex walked to the pod that would take the pair of you to the Separatist-threatened planet. You were already seated. You thumbed the grip of your lightsaber, and Rex recognized the gesture—it was a habit whenever you were nervous. His eyes were locked on you, debating whether or not he should say something despite his earlier promise to not get involved. You broke the silence for him.

“I can feel you staring, Rex. Talk to me,”.

You could always tell what he was thinking. As your friendship first blossomed, it unnerved him, but as your paths intertwined more and more he found it a comfort to have you understand him so well without him even saying a word. Rex met your eyes, and his stomach clenched. You were still so beautiful. He looked away

“Just thinking about the campaign, sir,”.

Your heart ached. Every bone in your body was screaming, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,” and yet he called you sir. He addressed you as a superior, another link in the chain of command. He really had moved on, hadn’t he? You bit your lip, the sharp pain of your teeth against the tender skin attempting to draw your attention away from your torturous thoughts. You had a mission to complete. You peeked out the porthole, and you saw the terrain approaching far faster than normal.

You landed with a crash. You were jostled from your seat, your head smacking the metal wall painfully. As the ringing in your skull crescendoed, you took stock of your darkened surroundings through your blurred vision. The lighting in the pod must have been damaged during your landing. You ignited your lightsaber, illuminating Rex with its soft glow. He stood up and rolled his shoulder experimentally, his nose scrunching in pain.

Your brows furrowed, “Are you alright?’

“I’m fine,” He grunted. He felt his way along the walls. “Exit’s been jammed shut, though,”

You searched his eyes in the dim lighting, another pang of longing reverberating through your chest. You dismissed the sensation and plunged your lightsaber into the wall of the pod, freeing yourselves. You emerged from the battered pod, your head pounding as your eyes adjusted. It was bright, with the triad suns beating down on you relentlessly. You checked your positioning system—you had landed a mere 15-minute walk from your stakeout site. You watched as Rex eased himself out of the pod. He groaned, his hand cradling his right arm. You handed him his positioning chip, and the two of you set off towards the village outskirts.

You noticed his hand lingered on his right shoulder, and he would grimace from time to time when it jostled. You reached your hand out to his plastoid-covered shoulder. “Rex, let me—”

“I’m fine,”.

His tone was sharp and dangerous, affecting you like a slap to the face. You sucked in a breath, and walked the rest of the path in silence. The planet was beautiful—you were surrounded on all sides by strange golden grasses that swayed with the breeze. Its beauty did nothing to distract you from the man by your side.

You arrived at the meeting point and immediately settled yourself against the large boulder meant as your cover. Rex sat across from you, leaning against a smaller rock. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and swallowing thickly. You traced the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, following down to the thick cords of muscle in his neck. You contemplated another attempt at offering him some bacta spray, but considering his earlier response, decided against it. When did Skywalker say the Separatists would arrive? Two hours?

You spent around an hour in silence. You meditated, as General Secura had taught you. Time moved thickly around you, your aura burning bright as it cut through the hours and seconds. With your deep focus came little flashes of memories.

You saw Rex, smiling. His golden skin was warm against the soft sheets. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek. You grinned.

“What do you want to do, Rex? After this is all over?”

He paused, his hand resting heavy on your jaw. “I don’t know, cyare. Guess I never really thought about it,”. His eyes flicked over your gentle smile and bright eyes. “I’d wanna be with you, though,” he whispered. You’re everything he could ever want. He’d never loved anything so much, and he knew he’d never love anyone else the way he loved you. What the hell did he do to deserve you? “What about you?”

“My parents—I barely remember them now—had a house on Naboo. We could live there, just us. No war, no fighting. It’s so beautiful there, Rex. The grass is long and tall—as a child, I’d play outside for hours just soaking up the sunlight. It’s a good place for raising children,”. Your face heated as you said the last part.

“Raising children, eh?” Rex tilted your chin, and you lifted your gaze to his eyes. You nodded slowly. “With me?” His eyes shone in the morning sunlight, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, Rex. Who else?” Rex’s expression eased, and you pressed your lips to each of his cheeks, followed by a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Rex sighed contentedly. He had no clue why you were with a shiny like him—he was one of a million genetically and physically identical men. He was sure that eventually you’d realize just how much better you could do than a clone, but until that day he’d savor every precious moment with you.

“You’re gonna be a great parent, one day, cyar’ika,”.

“You will, too, Rex,”.

You jolted out of your trance. It was just your luck that Rex had infiltrated the one escape you had from your relentless thoughts of him. You opened your eyes to find him studying your face. He averted his gaze quickly.

“Rex,” you called.

He fiddled with the straps of his armor.

“Rex,”.

He dropped his hands to his sides with a harsh sigh. “Would you just stop it?”

You were stunned. “Rex, I—”

“I spent two fucking years trying to forget I ever loved you. I was nothing, I was nobody, and you were this—this ideal being. I had no fucking clue why you gave me the time of day, but I let myself fall for you anyway. When we left for our tours, I broke. You were the first real thing, the first good thing I ever had, and you were gone. I was sure I was gonna die over there—and you wouldn’t have even known if I had. It was so much easier to believe that you had moved on, that you were through with me. Now you’re here and you’re alive and I—” his voice broke, “I don’t know what to do,”. He met your gaze, and his eyes glistened. His voice was barely a whisper, “You were always the rational one. Please tell me what to do,”.

Your wide eyes watered. You turned your head to the golden fields and let out a tiny sob. What the hell do you answer to that? Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you spotted what seemed to be a thousand metal heads just over a rolling hill. The separatists. You hastily wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. This would have to wait.

“The Separatists are here,” your voice wavered more than you would have liked. “I’ll comm the General,”. You sniffed, rubbing your eyes again. Get it together, you thought. You were a Jedi Master, for gods’ sake. Ever since returning to Coruscant, you’d been an emotional trainwreck. You were starting to see why the council discouraged attachments.

You allowed Rex a moment to collect himself, turning to face the oncoming droids as the two of you prepared in silence. The metallic clang of their footsteps grew louder and louder. Rex slipped his helmet back on over his head and unholstered his blasters.

“It’s your call, Commander. When d’ya wanna go?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him, and you were instantly thrown back to the hours of training exercises you had completed together. You grinned.

“Think you can take down the battle tank over there?” You motioned to the gargantuan hunk of steel situated right in the middle of a sea of battle droids.

The competitive edge you had so dearly missed was back in Rex’s voice.

“You know I never miss,”.

“Race you there,”. And with that, you were off. The two of you flew down the hill, cutting down the droids as if they were made of straw. You swung, decapitating a droid and ducking as Rex put a blaster hole through the one taking aim at you from behind. You worked well together, always did. The rest of the 501st seemed to be making easy work of the droids from behind.

“Rex, blaster!”

Rex tossed one of his blasters into the air, and you force-pulled it into your grasp in an instant. You fired off three quick shots at one of the tanks, damaging the traction treads. Rex looked over at the tank, and recognized the maneuver you had initiated in an instant. He took off for the tank, and called your name once he was just yards from its base.

“Saber!”

You switched off your saber and hurled it in Rex’s direction. He had barreled past at least ten lines of troops, snatching your lightsaber from the air before igniting it and plunging it into the battle tank’s generator while simultaneously firing off a few rapid shots at the droids. The droids’ main attention, as planned, was on you, and you were beginning to feel the heat. You force-pulled your lightsaber, still ignited, from Rex’s grasp and into a line of battle droids before its heavy weight met your palm again.

“Blaster!”

You tossed Rex his blaster, and he caught it with ease. With your lightsaber in hand, you began cutting a path to Rex, who had holed up against the decommissioned tank.

“Need to get me one of those,” Rex motioned to your lightsaber with a grin.

You shook your head with a laugh, deflecting a blaster shot as Rex took aim at the next line of droids.

It was your fault. You got distracted. Something about the focus in Rex’s masked stare as he picked off the droids one-by-one pulled your attention away just long enough for one of the droids to press the cool metal of its blaster against your neck. Before you could react, Rex fired two quick shots into its head.

“Told you, cyare, I never miss,”.

You missed this. The nicknames, the banter, working together like this. It felt good. It felt like coming home. You snuck one last glance at Rex before sprinting out from your cover to cut down the next row of droids.

Rex was fucked. Did you realize he called you cyare? It just slipped out—something about being here with you, fighting next to you—it brought him back to two years ago. He shook his head, firing at a droid that had pointed its blaster at you. He was done with pretending he didn’t care. He still had no idea what to do, or where this would go, but he could figure that out later.

You finished off the last droid, looking back at Rex with an easy smile before waving to General Skywalker. Rex jogged over to you, pulling you back behind the tank and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the 501st.

“Rex, wha—”

He ripped off his helmet, letting it fall to the ground as he pulled you into a kiss. His hand fell to the small of your back, and you practically collapsed into him. His lips were hungry against yours—he was all tongue and teeth and desperation. He needed this. You needed this. You raked your nails through his close-cropped hair, drawing a little groan from deep in his chest. His hands were everywhere—your hair, your neck, your waist—

“Rex, where are you? Are you injured?”

For the second time today, Rex was going to kill his general. He pulled away from you reluctantly, his hand lingering on your waist. You take his hand, and press your lips to his palm.

“We should go,”. Rex nods. “Meet me in my quarters tonight—you still like firewhiskey?”

“Rex—are you over here?”

You meet Rex’s eyes, and he smiles. A real smile. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“See you tonight,”.

********************************************

Like Real People Do Taglist: @pinkiemme @callme-eds @dinpoe 

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Off to Vegas then!

???: DA VINCIIIIII!!!!!!

Da Vinci: goodness, what's with the yelling, you two?!

Quetz: are you the one responsible?!

Da Vinci: responsible for what?

Rex: oh! So the Supreme genius has decided to play dumb? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT!!!

Quetz: Why are our children contracted to a Servant?!

Da Vinci: oh that? I just thought it'd be nice to know what kind of masters would be produced by the successful master of Chaldea and the Feathered serpent goddess, and I figured the Swimsuit Swordmaster tournament would be a good opportunity.

Rex: well ya thought wrong! Sever the contracts this instant!

Quetz: we don't want them to have to deal with the costs of being a master on top of everything else they've had to deal with!

Da Vinci: y'know I'm still surprised as to how overprotective you two became as parents

BOTH: THEY'VE SPENT A GOOD AMOUNT OF THEIR CHILDHOOD HUNTED BY THEIR RELATIVES!!!

Rex: can you fucking blame us!?

Da Vinci: btw, where are they? If their safety is such a concern then I'd expect them to still be by your side?

Quetz: they're with their tias, they don't need to see us yell at you!

Rex: and stop changing the subject!

Da Vinci: I'm sorry you two, but I'm not severing the contracts! It's not happening.

Quetz: why are you doing this?! There's nothing to gain.

Da Vinci: well it definitely seems like the two of them could use some independence! I get why you've had to be protective but that's not an issue at this point in time, and they're both 18 years old! They're the same age as the twins are! You can still watch over them, but they deserve a chance.

The two parents were annoyed at how right the little genius was.

Rex: hmmph! Fine! Whatever! They can be masters!

Quetz: but we'll be as close as possible to them!

Da Vinci: fine by me! But loosen the leash a tiny bit at the very least, please?

Both: unlikely!

The two left back to where the children were, at the cafeteria with Hokusai, Tlazolteotl and Xolotl.

Tlaz: so how'd it go?

Quetz: urgh, she raised some annoyingly good points, and refuses to end the contract.

Rex: *sigh* so yeah, they're going to remain masters for the time being...

Mari: uuuuugh!

Ed: btw, something happened while you were gone! The Yagyu guy mentioned something about a swimsuit swordmsster tournament or something at Las Vegas... and Siegfried also showed up I'm a "swimsuit" tho it looked more like normal casual attire to me.

Rex: yeah, that's the Vegas thing tu mamá mentioned before BB sent us here.

Mari: so now we're going to be masters while dealing with this, crap?!

Quetz: don't worry mija, we'll be nearby the whole time!

Rex: but I figured having an inexperienced servant probably isn't the best all things considered...

Hokusai: hey! I resent that!

Rex: Hokusai let's be honest, you're still a bit green. Especially in your current form.

Hokusai: *hmph!*

Quetz: so you two can have another few servants.

Xolotl: woah! You're giving them more?! That's exciting!!!

Ed: who are they?!

Rex: c'mon out you two!

Then the sound of a scooter could be heard as Ishtar Rider rolled up on Maana's scooter form, meanwhile walking up next to her was Jeanne Berserker.

Ishtar: why hello you two! My aren't you cute!

Jeanne: can we get going already?! Don't got all day!

Quetz: si, you'll be contracted with Jeanne alter y Ishtar.

Rex: we figured they'd be decent choices all things considered. And you know them better too!

Mari: yeah.... I barely even remember Hokusai, honestly.

Quetz: she was the twins' servant not your father's. So they weren't nearly as close.

Ed: fair enough. So we're heading to Las Vegas? What's the goal?

Rex: minute singularity that needs to be handled, is taking place over there. So let's get you two started!

Mari: *sigh* I already hate it here....

A/N: the adventure continues! Now it's confirmed the two are definitely masters! Despite their parents' insistence that they do not be masters! But now they're stuck with it for the time being.

Tags

@hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong @hashokusaidoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @hasmerlindoneanythingwrong

[ironmandeficiency]

feelin’ like a woman

pairing: hardcase / reader

word count: 4322

summary:  you’re desperate to go somewhere where proper conduct isn’t expected, and you perk up at hearing about a clone-friendly bar called 79’s. fox gets protective over you and his worry only increases when the object of your affections is a member of the five-oh-first.

warnings: implied smut, the reader and hardcase are thirsty af, that along with the drinking makes me think rated m is most accurate for this fic

“come on, padme! i need someone to come with me!”

“you seem to forget that i’m painted on the sides of several of their ships, any clone would pick me out from a crowd just as quickly as my husband could.”

“then let them enjoy a night with the highly esteemed senator fighting for their rights as people!”

“that’s why you’re going, is it not?”

you groan in defeat, flopping onto padme’s bed theatrically. that was the exact opposite of why you were going. you were indeed an avid fighter for the rights of the clones, but you didn’t have the notoriety that padme did. no, you were planning on going to 79’s to let loose and drink people under the table without shame and have enough fun to satiate future boredom at the upcoming senator’s gala.

“you can have a disguise, or claim to be a body double for the former queen of naboo!”

padme rolled her eyes at the idea. “any member of the coruscant guard will see through that immediately. and speaking of, aren’t you going to need one of those disguises you’re so keen on making me wear?”

“nah, i’m not as popular as you, my friend. i don’t think i’ll be picked out as quick as you would be, or even at all.”

“but i’ve heard that anakin and his men have returned from their last campaign. surely some of their men would recognize you after your rescue from separatist lines a few months ago.”

“lucky for me that the men in blue aren’t snitches.”

--------

you were mostly right about not being widely known.

fox, when he saw you in a dress much tighter and shorter than anything he’s ever seen you wear, nearly had a stroke. at first he tried to blame the glass of unknown substance shoved into his hand by someone in the 327th for making him hallucinate stewjon’s senator wearing a scandalous dress while drinking at a clone bar. then he heard your voice when you asked for stewjoni scotch, and he knew for certain it was you.

his steps were fast and wide as he approached you, a hand gripping your arm almost vice-like to keep you from pulling away. “senator, what do you think you’re doing here?!” he spoke through clenched teeth akin to the way parents chastised their children in public.

“what i’m doing, foxy boy,” you smirk as the bartender sets the bottle and two glasses before you, “is getting shitfaced.” he filled both glasses, extending one towards the commander of the coruscant guard. he didn’t pick up the glass (which you expected) so you picked up yours, clinking the transparisteel against his chestplate with a wry smile.

fox does not approve of this, not at all. but he loosens his grip slightly because he’s aware of how that could possibly be twisted against him if the wrong person saw him. “do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here, senator? you could have been murdered or kidnapped on the trip here, and a drunken senator would be quite easy to take advantage of after half a bottle of this scotch.”

he was worried about you, which was really sweet of the overworked commander (although quite unfounded because you were surrounded by soldiers of the republic, you’d be fine). you had enough faith in their morals to know if anyone got too handsy, clone or otherwise, one of them would defend your honor.

“my friend, you seem to forget that i was born and raised around this stuff,” you raised the drink to your lips and downed it in record time as you continued. “it might as well be in my blood at this point, foxy. but could you do me a favor and refrain from exposing my position? it’ll ruin my chances of any fun, and that would mean i’d have to leave the relative safety of dozens of soldiers.”

fox was resigned to his fate. you did have a fair point, he can monitor (protect) you much better when in a clone-friendly bar than he could in a place where he wasn’t even allowed inside because of his clone status. guess you were staying here.

“well not every brother in here has the same respect for women, sena-“ he cuts himself off and is unsure of how to address you without the title. fox was rightly worried about addressing you by your name. names were near-sacred to him and his brothers, and they held the same power to those in high positions of power like you were. would you be comfortable trusting him with something so precious as a name?

you pick up on his trepidation and immediately give him permission to call you by your first name (again), your other hand grabbing the untouched scotch and downing it with practiced speed. it isn’t like you haven’t been friends with fox since the first time he was assigned to float with your protection team, and you trusted him with your life. he wouldn’t take it lightly and most definitely would be professional whenever decorum was called for.

“alright y/n,” fox’s mouth wrapped around your name with calculated hesitance, almost doubting whether you had even given him permission in the first place. “from now until tomorrow, or as long as we’re in this bar, i’ll only address you as y/n, a random civvie that came to drink with a few soldiers.” the second time he spoke your name it was with a bit more confidence and a twinge of humor.

you brought a hand to the bar top with two rapid hits, drawing the attention of the bartender. the man took the hint and refilled the glasses in front of you both. before he could walk away, you grabbed one of them and gently slammed it back onto the bar, the bartender once again refilling it with the amber liquid.

it was almost comical, the way fox’s eyebrows shot up at the speed with which you took the third helping of scotch. “oh i’m here to do a lot more than drink, my friend,” you grin widely and rest an arm on his shoulder. “i’m here to party!”

the words had been out of your mouth for mere seconds when a clone with blue paint on his armor and inked onto his face approached your right side that was unoccupied by your favorite member of the coruscant guard.

the geometric blue on his armor clearly distinguished him as five-oh-first material, but you had never met this particular soldier before. he had a wild side to him, that much was obvious with the loud confidence he used when he invited you to hang out with him and his group toward the back.

there were a couple familiar faces occupying the booth he gestured to and you grinned at the sight of a cog-headed man downing a shot of something purple. it had been too long since you had seen jesse and co. and you figured that since you were here to party, who better to do it with than some of the rowdiest clones in the gar?

this was another thing fox didn’t like, and the list seemed to only be growing. many of the men under rex’s command had a well-known reputation for being something far less than tame. the idea of his friend (apparently you considered him a friend and it would only be fair of him to do the same since he was now given permission to do so) getting “shitfaced” with the loud men worried him.

they were vode, there was no reason for him to fear for your safety.

your manicured hand came to pat his cheek with affection, bidding him a farewell and directions to find you if he needed you. the other trooper grinned as he offered his hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you to where his closest brothers sat.

fox grabbed the remaining glass of scotch and downed it the same way you had. it was gonna be a long night.

--------

when hardcase returned to the booth with you as his plus one, every head turned (echo and rex choked on their drinks as well) once they identified you.

“jesse! long time no see!”

“y/n! wouldn’t have pegged you for a 79’s kind’a girl, good to see ya!”

“senator y/n! you look stunning as always!”

“why thank you fives, but you know that flattery won’t get your hands anywhere closer to where you wanna put ‘em.”

laughter bounded from everyone around hardcase as you slid into the booth next to jesse, your interlaced hand pulling him next to you.

he was stunned. he had just invited a senator to his table with that much confidence and she actually followed him? a senator?! that knew his brothers?! how did she recognize fives and jesse (and presumably everyone else) in the first place?! part of him hoped the honorific was an inside joke he wasn’t privy to but common sense paired with the way echo and rex choked at the sight of you told him that you actually held that title.

it didn’t take a genius to know where exactly fives wanted his hands to go and the fact you didn’t lose your shit at the implications had hardcase reeling. what kind of senator were you? apparently a fun one, if the finesse you held when downing the scotch earlier held any weight to the idea.

“you know me too well, gorgeous.”

“knowing you at all is too much for anyone, fives.”

your laugh at echo’s snarky comment was loud and without inhibition and hardcase loved it. you were a breath of fresh air, something warm and bright amidst the murky, choking cloud that was the war and he wanted you to stay next to him as long as you were willing.

kix returned to the booth loaded down with drinks and was pleasantly surprised to see you laughing it up with hardcase and the others at something said that (what he correctly guessed) was at fives’s expense. you greeted the medic with a grin, quickly extending a hand towards him that he quickly filled with a brown bottle.

before you could open it and take a sip, jesse gently nudged your side with an elbow. an eyebrow quirked up as he gestured to his bottle and then to yours, and you quickly understood what he wanted to do.

“you’re on, jess.”

everyone else at the table (minus hardcase and tup, the only other man at the table you didn’t know prior to tonight) knew what was going to happen now. with an amused sigh, kix resigned himself to having to deal with an insanely drunk jesse later tonight as the latter opened his bottle and set it in front of him, waiting for the countdown. being the designated vodsitter was a necessary nuisance because they clearly couldn’t be trusted to get themselves back to the barracks safely.

fives began the countdown at three, a hand smacking the table with each number before shouting “go!” you and jesse quickly snatched your drinks from the tabletop and began chugging at a speed hardcase hadn’t seen a civvie (well, non-clone) drink with.

hardcase couldn’t help his eyes from wandering down your body as a couple drops escaped the corner of your lips, slowly making a path down your exposed neck and chest and disappearing into your dress. there had never a been a time he wished he was a tiny droplet of beer, but tonight had him thinking that he’d be content with such an existence if it guaranteed him gliding down your body the way your beer did.

damn his mind was weird sometimes.

he was pulled from his thoughts at a victory yell emitting from your throat, an empty bottle banging against the table. jesse’s head was in his hands, a playful groan making itself known at his now apparent loss.

you beat jesse?! he was the champion!

guess not anymore.

you playfully half-bowed at the cheers of the rest of the table’s occupants before wiping the corner of your mouth with a thumb. what he didn’t expect was the way you licked the tiny bit of beer away from the tip, or the way he felt something stir in his abdomen at the sight of your tongue flicking out for a brief second. did you know you had this affect on him?

conversation came back for a few minutes, everyone joking around and having a great time. you were going on about something to do with the ryloth senator’s bothersome lack of ability to shut up when you cut yourself off mid-sentence, seeming to notice something the others didn’t.

“y/n, what-“

you hold a finger up to silence him and after another couple seconds, your eyes light up at the familiar tune beginning to play from the music box in the corner by the dance floor.

“hardcase, move your ass! i love this song!” he quickly does as you ask, secretly relishing the way it feels when you lightly push him out. what would your hands feel like on him without his pesky armor in the way?

you’re barely out of the booth when a female waitress approaches you with another brown bottle the same as the one you finished off a while earlier.

“the three gentlemen from the three-twenty-seventh enjoyed your little show earlier, wanted to see if you’d do it again.” you could hear the eye roll in her voice, seeming a bit bothered for you at the gall the men she pointed to had.

you shot her a sympathetic smile before sending a flirty wink towards the men who bought you the drink, taking it from her hands with a flourish. she seemed to visibly relax when you were nonchalant about the whole thing, turning to go back to work.

if they wanted a show, they’d get one.

it took a tiny hop on your part to get yourself sitting on the table, being careful to avoid spilling the drinks of your blue-painted friends. you crossed one leg over the other as you sent a small salute with the bottle toward the table before bringing it to your lips. the liquid sent a warm burning sensation to your throat, and you tilted your head back with an almost seductive elegance.

another couple drops escaped your lips and followed a path similar to the prior bottle’s contents, and hardcase was once again enraptured at the sight. when the bottle was empty, you hopped off the table and set the bottle down. now that you had a few drinks in you and a great song was playing through the bar, it was time to dance.

hungry eyes burned into your body as you made your way to the dance floor. you knew there were a couple five-oh-first boys eyeing you as well as the three men who gifted you the last drink. disguising your curiosity as a flirty twirl to the song, you spun and took a head count of your admirers.

at least eight soldiers’ eyes were glued to you, the men having varying motives as to why you had their attention.

fox was casually nursing another glass of scotch at the bar but that nonchalance didn’t fool you. if you gave even the tiniest indication that you were less than comfortable with something, the guardsman would immediately come to your aid. it was the calculated calm that one would see in predators in the wild and you were thankful fox was on your side.

you didn’t pay much mind to the three-twenty-seventh members that sent the second bottle your way outside of knowing that they were watching you. the battalion was familiar to you only by name and paint color, and you weren’t looking to get chummy with men from a group whose commanding officer you weren’t well acquainted with.

tup, who you had discovered was the youngest of the blue men group you were drinking with tonight, was in absolute awe. he’d seen plenty of women who were able to fake a confidence like yours, but yours wasn’t even the slightest bit artificial. your name has popped up among the men with stories of how you were shooting down clankers right along with the five-oh-first during your rescue from seppie space. the fact you were as wild as the stories led him to believe was startling and quite validating.

most of your blue-clad companions were watching your departure the same way they’d watch a commando kick ass: with excitement and barely-contained anticipation. it was entertainment to them. they knew that you knew about the lingering eyes on you. you were just playing the part of the naive but sexy party girl that wanted nothing more than to drink and dance.

what you pretended to want was mostly true, but you had a more concrete goal in mind now than you did when you first arrived: your new goal was to jump the bones of a certain tatted heavy gunner.

a blind man could see the heart eyes hardcase has been throwing at you since he approached you at the bar. the trooper was everything but subtle in his enthusiasm to please you. the lust in his eyes as they roamed your body reminded you of the drought you’d been stuck in for far too long, senator work not leaving much time for the finer pleasures life has to offer the bold.

there was a tall and vibrant pitcher of water in blue paint that you hoped would be more than willing to flood your desert later tonight. maybe if you played your cards right and made your intentions known things would go your way.

only one way to find out.

among the cards was a little extra sway to your hips as you walked and a half-spin, urging him to follow you to the dance floor with a wink.

his brothers were encouraging him to get up and go, but he was suddenly nervous about you for the first time tonight. did you really want to dance with him? he didn’t think so. you were absolutely phenomenal and he wasn’t even an arc trooper, what would you want with him?

doubts were shoved away from his head when you went back to the booth and pulled him from his seat, a wide smile gracing your features. fives, tup, echo, and jesse drunkenly hollered in celebration of his good fortune as you laced a hand in one of his and he swore to the maker that he could never forget the way your hand felt in his.

once you found a prime spot on the floor, you turned to face hardcase and pulled him closer to you. your hands made their way to the nape of his neck and your hips began to sway. the trooper took the hint and his hands moved down your body and came to rest comfortably on your waist.

did all clones have such large hands? if so, how did you not notice that pleasant physical feature earlier? more importantly, would they feel as large as they did now when spreading you open for him before absolutely railing you the way you hoped he would?

the song continued and with it went what little structure your dancing had. hardcase was right on board with it, the two of you dancing like fools just enjoying each other’s company. you laughed as he playfully twirled you out of the blue and wow, his smile is dazzling. he was laughing right along with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make him more attractive than he already was.

then he pulled you closer, chest flush with his. callused hands returned to your body and traveled lower and lower, one resting on your ass while the other pressed into the small of your back. his eyes became softer as he lowered his head, whispering a question of consent, whether it was okay for his hands to have gone so far down your figure.

it was endearing you even more to the mirthful soldier and if you weren’t careful- oh who were you kidding? you were too far gone to contemplate what it meant for you to have something so intimate with a trooper and frankly, you didn’t care now the same way you wouldn’t in the morning.

he was flesh and blood and dazzling smiles and playful jokes, and you wanted to continue being the reason he smiled so wide. you had half a mind to send a holopic of your lips on hardcase’s to the longneck senator burtoni just to piss her off because look at this man, he was spectacular and you dared anyone to imply that he was anything less.

you were snapped back to the man in front of you when his hand kneaded your ass in the most heavenly way possible, not even bothering to conceal the soft moan that worked its way out of your throat. there was no way hardcase didn’t hear it, not with how he tensed for just a brief moment before doing it again with both hands just to see what you’d do.

another moan added emphasis to your growing arousal, slightly louder than the last one but still quiet enough that the dancing strangers on almost every side couldn’t hear.

hardcase grinned like a loth-cat at the sound. he couldn’t believe his night was going so wonderfully and for a brief, blissful moment he forgot that he’d have to leave 79’s before the end of the night and in three days’ time, return to the front lines.

the harsh slap of reality obliterated what little jitters and anxiety he had about you on the spot. he tightened his hold on you before asking for permission to kiss you the way he’d wanted to since you sat down next to him.

the reply you granted him was simple enough and got the point across with zero chance for it to be twisted the way some fellow senators would twist the words of themselves and others. honesty and openness were rare in politics but they were abundant when hardcase was this close to you, and they only grew in size as your lips collided with his.

you could taste the beer on his tongue and something else you didn’t recognize that had you hungry for more. it was sweet and strong and distinctly hardcase and oh fierfek, if his mouth was this good right now, imagine how skilled it’d be when-

rough kneading elicited another moan that wasn’t as private as the others, your mind storing away the humorous sight of a couple veering their path away from you and hardcase’s affection in thinly veiled disgust.

“is there somewhere we can go for a bit more privacy?” the aroused timbre of his voice was something you weren’t prepared for and if he hadn’t been holding you so tight against him, you were confident in the assumption you’d have melted to the spot.

but the implications didn’t lose their intended effect; in fact, quite the opposite. you pulled him in for another kiss and this time, decided to push yourself against the codpiece of his armour, see how he’d respond.

there was something almost primal in the noise he made and you were desperate to hear it again. you repeated the motion and received the same response, deciding to answer the pressing question he posed as he relished in the pressure you were giving him. “i can get us into a hotel in the middle levels where no one would know me, see what happens from there.”

the confidence in his next words struck you like lightning. “i think we both know what’s gonna happen from there, sweetheart.” his lips began setting a path along your jaw and down your neck, pausing only to lightly bite the soft skin resting above your collarbone.

“what are we waiting for, then?”

hardcase’s tongue lapped at the spot his teeth just released for a moment before lifting his eyes to yours. “a cab to get us the kriff outta here.”

he (almost unwillingly) detached himself from your body and intertwined his fingers with yours, smiling as you guide each other towards the exit and right by your former table. as predicted by hardcase, his vode that were still conscious drunkenly shouted their congratulations and reminders about protection.

you laughed right along with them for a moment, bidding them a good night and safe trip home.

before getting to the bar doors you paused. fox would want to know that you were safe, and you’d feel immensely guilty for letting your friend needlessly worry. scanning the bar, he wasn’t at his previous spot and you cursed for a moment before finding another trooper with red paint, telling them to pass along a message.

they nodded and turned to do so, at which point you pulled hardcase closer to you and emerged from the doors hand in hand.

a speeder cab nearly passed you up, jerking to a stop at the loud whistle of hardcase. another thing his mouth could do. interesting.

the cabbie asked where you wanted to go, your answer sounding almost out of breath since hardcase thought that mid-conversation was the perfect time to slide his hands up the exposed skin of your thigh. never had you been grateful for the solid divider that isolated cabbie from passenger before this moment.

at the end of the night, you both had predictions turn into truths; hardcase was correct in guessing what exactly would transpire between the two of you, and his hands did feel as large as you hoped they would as he split you open with calculated ministrations before nailing you to the hotel bed.

[detroitbydark]

Chapter 9

Characters: Commander Fox/Reader

Warning: None

A/N: I’m breaking this and the next part into two seperate pieces to keep them at a comfortable readable length. Strap into your seats babes it’s about to get bumpy.

“For the love of Fett-“ Fox shoves the datapad away in a fit of disgust. Three others sit nearby. He was missing something and he was starting to wonder if it wasn’t his mind.

There was a piece he just didn’t have. Rex hadn’t been able to provide it, only given him more questions.

It’s well past the end of his work day but Fox can’t let it rest. He drags a holopad back. This one contains footage, surveillance of the ARC trooper from before everything had come to a head. There had to be something he was meeting, someone somewhere in the background. A hint of anything to go off of.

But there wasn’t. He’d watched the same blurry, looped feed six times already and nothing new presented itself.

That was the definition of madness wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results.

“Fox?” Mouse’s voice cuts through the noise on his head. “It’s getting late. Let it be for the day.”

He raises a brow at the order. Not her usual gentle question. He’s not feeling playful or amorous and she seems to mirror it in the way she stands across the room, her distance from him speaking volumes and making his stomach clench uncomfortably. He’d give anything right now just to lose himself in the soft plains of her body, let the sounds of their passion drown out the voices inside his head that said he was failing.

“Can’t.” He gruffs, pulling another datapad over and flipping through the screen. redacted black lines take up the entirety of it and any attempt to bypass is left with a flashing red ‘access denied’. He snarls lowly.

“Alverde?” the term throws him off. His Little Mouse didn’t speak any Mando’a. She offers a tiny smile to his bewildered expression.

“Wren taught me a few things.”

His stomach clenches again, sour and dispeptic. Had they talked about what he’d said in the heat of the moment? He couldn’t explain himself now. Couldn’t have the conversation if she wanted too. There was too much he needed to-

Mouse’s hand softly cradles his cheek. He flinches away. He hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. Maybe he was too tied up in his own thoughts. The look on her face is hurt. It’s the only way to describe it, like he hadn’t pulled away but in reality had slapped her.

He grabs for her hand quickly, grip tight at her wrist. He presses a firm kiss to the back of her hand and then more along her knuckles until he feels the muscles in her arm begin to relax. Mouse sighs tiredly. Yeah, he could understand that. She moves to perch on the edge of the desk.

“It’s been a long day but I need to figure this out.” He tries to explain.

“Is this about Captain Rex?” The 501st Officer had not left a good impression on Mouse if her eyes glaring daggers at his backside as he’d left had told the story.

“This is about us all.” Fox corrects, saying aloud for the first time what was truly at stake or, at least, what he’d come to believe. “The Jedi, the clones, my brothers-“

Mouse sits, looking away from him and to the datapad.

“You shouldn’t be looking at these.” He says after a minute, though he doesn’t move to close anything out. Mouse raises a brow at him before getting up to pull the chair from the other side of the desk around next to him. He’d rather she be in his lap. Even next to him feels too far away. He can’t bring himself to act on it.

“Why are all these about the ARC trooper?” She questions, not validating his assessment with a response. She knew as well as he did that this was far beyond any clearance she had.

Fox’s jaw clenches. He needed to tell her to go. This wasn’t for her to see but he can’t because he's weak for her. Having her near may flare some nerves but her presence alone calms so many others.

“You're looking at this like Fives was the lynchpin in whatever plot you’ve got brewing.” She traces the image of the clone softly and Fox feels a flare of something ugly in the soft brush of her fingers against the datapad. “He was young, fresh from ARC training. Where would he find someone to conspire with?” She makes a point.

Maybe he’d been looking at this wrong, “so your saying, Fives wasn’t a conspirator, he just-“

“-got mixed up in it. Did the Captain say when they started noticing him acting strange?”

“After the clone Tup turned on his Jedi-“ Fox pauses for a minute. He’s already said too much so he decides, kriff it, and says it all “he was sick, they thought. Sent him to Kamino for- Rex said he wasn’t right after Tup died there.”

“But Fives didn’t think Tup was sick,” Mouse says quietly. Fox looks at her not for the first time and wishes he’d never laid a hand on her because now she was in this and he wanted her too kriffing to make her go. If this was high level stuff, something cooked up by higher military personnel than it was more dangerous than she’d ever know.

“Who do you think is responsible?”

Now that was the question of the hour. All the way to the top? Tarkin’s name comes to mind first and foremost. The man oozed hunger for power, latched onto any he could get and clung to it fiercely with thin skeletal fingers. Wulff Yularen was another probable candidate but he didn’t seem to stand out so much as Tarkin did. Maybe it was by design. Maybe Yularen has grown weary of being held at heel by the Jedi Order. Maybe he thought he could do better. It was a possibility but still it didn’t feel likely.

The Kaminoans had discouraged young clones from pacing, it was an inefficient use of metabolized energy and unnecessary for such high functioning merchandise. Fox found it to be the best way to think. The act of motion helped to center his thoughts, form them into something clear and concise instead of a tangled, jumbled mess. He rises to his feet and begins the short path back and forth across the office.

He needed access to the redacted files. His clearance- top secret- should have cleared all of that for him but it had barely scratched the surface of the files. They were utterly useless as they were now. He’d need them opened. If it was one of the admirals preparing for some sort of military coup he wouldn’t be able to go to them, while Yularen may comply with his request Tarkin thought too little of clones to agree even if he wasn’t implicitly involved. If they were working together any request would expose him to the full wrath they were capable of bringing down.

No. He needed to go higher. The Supreme Chancellor could get the files opened or at least find the one to order too. It was a matter of galactic security, even though Fox wasn’t a great fan of the Chancellor personally he trusted the man to do what was in the galaxies best interest. That was what he'd sworn an oath to do.

A warm hand slides over his. He startles. Again. He was too on edge for any of this. Mouse looks up with worried eyes.

“Fox-“

“I need you to go home.” He's brisk, erasing any tenderness from his voice. She does a good job of hiding the cringe at his words. He needed her to stop looking at him with those big, trusting eyes. Eyes that held all her faith in him. If she didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to push her away again. Even now it hurt, felt like he was carving out a part of his heart with a dull vibroblade. He couldn’t drag her any further into this no matter how much he did- how much he did care for her.

He could not allow her to be in danger. If something happened to her… he just wouldn’t allow it to happen. Even if he had to be cold to do it. He’d make it up to her after the conspiracy had been laid to rest. When it was safe to have her at his side again. It physically hurts his head, his chest, and even down to the marrow of his bones to place what he wants (but now he’s more afraid that it’s moved on to a need) to the back burner for any reason.

“Mouse go home. Yours.” He clarifies before she can ask. “You can’t- I don’t need you here.” Fox is surprised he can lie so convincingly.

“Fox-“

“-No” his voice is sharp and Mouse flinches, he almost misses it as small as it is. All the same it’s like a punch to the gut. “Go home. I don’t want you here.” It’s amazing he’s able to get the words out. He’s never lied so completely in his entire decade of life. He feels like a hut’uun as Mouse turns away. She doesn’t fight him on it and he wants her too. He wants her to yell or rage. He wants her to fight to be with him.

His Mouse is smarter than that. She’s better than that. His cyar’ika knows him better than he knows himself he worries- he hopes- because the small sounds she’s making as she leaves the office sound like a broken heart.

——

It’s been a long time since you’ve been made to feel so small. You’d never handled rejection well. Your mother had been very cognizant of it and, after you’d lost her, the children’s home attendants had learned quickly. You’d always just been sensitive and any kind of harsh treatment made your mind push into shut down mode.

In a year working at Fox’s side he’d never so much as volleyed a cross word your way.

He hadn’t just then, your brain supplies helpfully.

That wasn’t how you felt. It was as if he’d slammed the door in your face. The sweetness he’d shown you over the last week was gone as if you’d only just come into his acquaintance. It kriffing hurt. That’s what it did. It hurt. Especially after your talk with Wren earlier in the day.

You wipe at your eyes as you take the elevator to the nearest speeder platform and wait for a taxi to loop around. A chill rises up from the lower levels and you shiver lightly. You think back to the previous night, the emotion that had bled through Fox’s words as he held you. The depth of what you’d felt when Wren had translated them earlier.

Forever.

That was the word that you let roll around in your head and your heart. But maybe that was just the heat of the moment falling from his lips? Of course you didn’t want forever.

This was too young, too new. Of course Fox didn’t mean it. Time away from one another would be good, breed perspective. You were drunk off the newness and the feeling of being wanted by such a strong individual. That was all. It was good to separate yourself from the situation. You needed to be alone so you could think clearly and reevaluate what you thought you knew.

By the time the door of the cab is popping open your brain has almost completely convinced your heart that it was in the wrong. Almost.

———-

Fox wakes at his desk, still on full armor with the exception of his helmet off to the side, at 0400. His back protests the first attempt to move into motion and he’s forced to stretch slowly before trying again. His vertebrae pop loudly in protest. He has to agree with them. Falling asleep draped over the duraplast was a rotten idea, certainly less inviting than other sleeping arrangements he’d made over the last week. He doesn’t allow himself to think of Mouse. Definitely, not the way she’d left him the night before.

There was too much riding on his time with the Supreme Chancellor today to allow anything to distract him. He needed more access, to reopen the case. To be given the freedom to investigate like he hadn’t had previously, like he hadn’t pushed for.

He makes his way down to the barracks, shucking his armor and blacks the second he’s clear of the door. The ‘fresher is his first stop. There’s barely an ounce of heat to the stream of water that pelts him. The cool blast wakes him faster than any cup of high-octane caf ever could. He’s efficient, clean and wrapped in a towel in no time flat like he’d been taught on Kamino.

Next, he runs a razor over his face. He doubted he’d be taking his bucket off but if it came to that, Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t see anything other than the absolute pinnacle of military excellence. To complete the effect he takes the clippers, trimming the short hairs around his temple and back of his head back into regs. He pauses before he gets to the hair at his crown. It was getting longer, not yet floppy but more to the length than he’d traditionally allow.

Mouse had mentioned how she’d liked running her fingers through it as it had slowly grown over the last week. She liked the feel of it between her fingers and he couldn’t argue. He liked the feel of it between her fingers as well. He leaves it be and packs the razor and clippers away before retrieving clean blacks from his closet and fitting his armor back into place. He makes a point of shining the visor to a glossy mirror finish.

A yawn creeps past his lips and Fox takes a longing look at his bed but he knows if he lays back down now he’d be even worse for wear when he got up. No sleep was better than too much sleep as far as he was concerned. He had ways to fight the fatigue. Today was a day for caf and stims, maybe not in that order.

Like any good trooper, Fox kept half a dozen stims in a belt pocket for emergencies. On Coruscant they weren’t as likely to use them as the clones in off world war zones but they did get used from time to time. There was nearly no other feeling better than riding a stim high, comparable to a good night's sleep, three square meals, and a good hot shower. A single stim would make you feel ready to take on the world single-handedly. That’s what he needed today. He pops the little blue and red capsule dry, swallowing it down quick.

By the time he’s to the cafeteria Fox is already beginning to feel the effects of the stims in his system. He no longer has to focus to keep his feet from shuffling, his back feels straight and strong, and his focus is laser sharp. It doesn’t do much for the anxiety that’s been slowly eating at him since Rex showed up yesterday but it gives him the mental fortitude to pack every kriffing nerve and down, down, down burying it so deep below the surface that he can confidently pretend it doesn’t exist.

He downs a ration bar and a cup of caf without breaking his stride, the few clones already present and eating offer respectful greetings and Fox returns them with a quick nod. His vode. This is who he needed to get to the bottom of this for. He needed to keep them safe, make sure they had a future to work towards.

It's nearly 0630 by the time Fox is parking his speeder in the garage of the main senate complex. No matter what the time of day Coruscanti traffic, particularly around the Senate, was a nightmare. Not for the first time, Fox wonders what it might be like in another world, a place where the city isn’t a hodgepodge of thousands of levels dating back to who knew how many centuries past. What must it be like to see green pastures and vast waters, a place that was more scenic than scene?

His mind is firing on too many cylinders and he takes a moment and a deep breath to refocus. The stims are working their magic now and it was his job to focus it to precision, not let it run amok.

The clones at both security checkpoints entering into the building give him a thorough once over even as they recognize him as their Commander. He’s pleased. If they did this to him it meant they treated everyone entering the same, a possible threat until proven otherwise. The safety of the senators and their staff depended on his men.

His boots echo against the fine marble floor as he makes his way to the Supreme Chancellor’s offices. The turbo lift takes him to the top of the building and he encounters one last checkpoint before he’s able to enter. It’s nearly 0730.

Palpatine is busy at his desk when Fox enters. He waits at parade rest for a handful of minutes until the chancellor completes whatever task he’d been set on and looks up.

“Commander” he greets pleasantly, “your early. I wasn’t expecting you til at least the turn of the hour.”

“I can come back if I-“

Palpatine waves him off. “No, my young friend. Come closer. It will be nice to have the company before the business of the day begins.”

The informality makes Fox uncomfortable. He lowers himself into the seat he’s motioned too. “I’m afraid I do have some business for you this morning” Fox stares straight ahead, he’s glad he’s got his bucket on, even so, when the chancellor looks at him he feels as if the old man is looking through it.

“Well that is unfortunate but, part of the grand scheme of things I suppose. What is it? I did hope I’d hear more about the lady love I'd encouraged you to pursue our last meeting.”

The smile he gives makes Fox feel like squirming. His gaze is more assessing than friendly. Fox thinks of how precarious the situation is. His vode, the Jedi, Mouse.

“Any relationship would be wholly inappropriate given my standing within the GAR and the greater Republic, sir” it’s a deflective answer, neither admittance nor denial of what was going on. A brief flash of, what can only be annoyance, flashes across the chancellor’s face. Then it’s gone as if it had never existed.

“I’ve gathered new intel on the case of CT-5555.” That earns him a raised look, as the chancellor leans back in his seat.

“I see.”

Fox watches as the chancellor pushes up from his seat, he moves slowly. His weakness on display in the slight hitch in his gait, the way he holds a hand to the warm wood of his desk for a moment too long to maintain his balance. He moves to stand in front of the large transparisteel windows, turning his back to Fox as he looks out over Coruscant. “I was led to believe that all the pertinent information in that case had already been obtained. The case was closed last I was made aware.”

“And it still is” Fox leans forward in his seat, gloves planted against his knees, “some new information has come to light and, well, the case is so severely redacted I’m having trouble slotting it in or making any sense of it.”

“What kind of information?”

A dull throb, flares into existence at the base of Fox’s skull. Nothing as horrible as some of the headaches he’s endured previously but worrying all the same as the stims should have brought it to a screeching halt. He blinks once. Twice. It takes a moment to set his head straight.

“Captain Rex of the 501st-“

“Skywalker’s Captain?”

“Yes sir.” He hates the way the chancellor interrupts nearly as much as he hates the way his vode are spoken of as belonging to the Jedi. “Captain Rex has some insight into the clones behavior leading up to the incident. He says he filed a report but I’m unable to find any such thing in the case files.”

“The case is closed, my boy” the chancellor's tone has developed a chill. Fox wishes he could see his face but the old man doesn’t turn away from the window.

“You could have it opened. This is a matter of galactic importance.” Fox pushes, feeling desperation rising in his chest along with his heart rate but he can’t stop to think about that. He has to make the Chancellor understand. Now was not a time to hold back, “I believe there is a threat building within the GAR itself. A conspiracy to bring down the clone army and the Jedi.” The pressure in his head is increasing. It’s moving about, hopping from one point to another.

“The case is closed, Commander Fox.”

“Chancellor- I-“ he fights back a wave of nausea. The Chancellor’s voice is all around him. It’s in him, echoing off the insides of his skull.

“Commander Fox, you don’t want to look any further into this matter.”

Fox rises to his feet quickly. His head spins as he drags in a ragged breath. His lungs feel pressed tight as if they’d been placed in a vice, “I need to-“

“You do not need to continue to push this matter. The case is closed. You did a thorough review and found nothing.”

Fox cocks his head. The tension breaks with an awful clarity. The pressure eases, like the sky becoming clear after a late afternoon storm, “I did review the file. Nothing new was there.”

The Chancellor turns and offers him a grin. “You’re a good soldier, Commander Fox.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, tell me, how much assistance did your precious secretary offer for your research?”

[teaspacebar]

war of hearts part v: drinks, family, and wanting

summary: cody has drinks with his boys, you have some family bonding time, and you and cody finally get a moment to yourselves.

words: 2.2k+

beta: @ambereyesandwine​

taglist (open): @morganas-pendragons​ @deathlessdays​ @obiorbenkenobi​  @painkiller80 @abovethyfold @the-lady-of-stars @my-own-oracle​

a/n: i love this part so much!! i’m bringing in more canon information to actually get a timeline down so you can see where in the clone wars story we are! i hope you all enjoy!

masterlist

When Cody went to 79’s – which was very little – he usually ended up in a shared booth with Wolffe, Rex, and Maverick. Each of the boys would spend time with their respective squad before eventually making their way to the back corner. It had the best view of the whole place and allowed them to keep eyes on their boys without hovering.

“You look jumpier than normal,” Rex commented, taking a sip from his beer.

“He’s waiting for the Commander,” Maverick replied, covering his chuckle with a cough at Cody’s glare.

Wolffe raised an eyebrow, “Yours?” At Maverick’s nod he continued, “She’s the one that stopped a civil war breakin’ out by teaching them how to make bread?” Cody tried to keep a smile off his face – he could picture the scene in his head. “She gave General Plo Koon a whole basket a’ baked goods the other day. Should’a seen her face when he said he can’t eat that kind a’ food.”

“She’s coming to 79’s, then? She’ll be recognized right away,” Rex said.

Maverick shrugged, “She doesn’t wear her robes much, plus the rest of my boys wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight if anyone gave her a hard time.”

Cody gave a quick nod in Maverick’s direction. He had grown comfortable with the Captain – the man had a good head on his shoulders and worked well with you – and Cody was glad to have the Juno Squadron looking out for you.

Cheers erupted from the bar, and Cody watched as several men crossed the room in the direction of the entrance. “Speak of the Jedi and they shall appear,” Wolffe leaned back into the booth.

Cody followed the moving figures until he saw your familiar form. You were wearing simple, black clothes – your robes gone, just like Maverick had said. He watched you glow, your smile shining so brightly he thought his chest might burst. You greeted the Juno boys, receiving hugs from Bailey and Ziggy. A drink was pushed into your hands by Flare, grin on his face. It took Cody a moment to realize that you were staring back at him. You broke the gaze momentarily to say something to Salem, who gave a nod in response.

“Aaaaand she’s coming over.” Rex clapped him on the shoulder, “I’m going to grab another drink.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Wolffe smirked, leaving the booth with Rex.

You came strolling up a few seconds later, “Did I scare the party away?”  

“It’s because you’re obviously intimidating,” Maverick answered, chuckling when you poked him in the side. “I’ll go make sure that Flare doesn’t start another fight.” He sent a wink at the two of you before heading to the center of the bar.

You slipped into the booth next to Cody, leg brushing his. “Hey,” you said softly, eyes catching his.

“Hi,” he murmured back. His heart leapt as you intertwined your hands underneath the table. You looked exhausted. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, swirling your drink in your hand, “Obi-Wan has had so many meetings with the Council recently. The Republic can’t seem to get anything done, but I can barely understand politics itself.”

“You’re stressed,” Cody offered. You hummed noncommittally, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You and Obi-Wan have more in common than differences I think.”

A snort escaped you, “Because we’re both stressed? There’s a war going on that I’m not sure we can win, there’s reason to be stressed.” You sighed, “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He pressed his lips to your hair, relishing in the small content sound that left your lips.

“I just want us to be able to just talk about things other than what we deal with every day.” You pulled away from him, smiling, “Like what were you and the boys talking about earlier?”

“Besides the war?” You rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look as you swiped his drink from his hand. “It was ‘clone-talk’.”

“Mhm, right.” He loved the little perturbed look on your face. Your nose scrunched and your lips formed a perfect pout that he had the urge to kiss off.

No, he hadn’t kissed you again. Not since that night at the gala a month ago. And Cody was pretty sure the tension was getting to him. Any moment he had alone with you was interrupted. Not that there were many opportunities to be alone with you at all. Cody prided himself on being a patient man, but when it came to you, it was all thrown to the wind.

“Maybe I’ll go ask Wolffe, I can bribe him with more pastries.” Cody knew your threat wasn’t real because you snuggled up closer to his side.

“We should get you back to your room before you fall asleep at the table.”

“But I want to spend time with you,” your voice was muffled by his shirt.

“C’mon Pip, I’ll walk you and that’s how we’ll spend time together.” You pulled back quickly, blinking at him. Your mouth was open in a small ‘o’. “What?”

“You’ve never called me that before.”

Oh. He hadn’t, had he? He had called you by your name, but never by the term of endearment that the Juno Squadron – and even General Skywalker and Commander Tano – called you.

He started to apologize, but you placed your hand over his lips, “You can say it. It’s nice. More than nice, actually.” You lowered your hand back into his. “Walk with me?”

He didn’t think he could ever say no to you.

-

“Ahsoka!”

Said Padawan yelped in surprise as you all but tackled her from behind. Laughter bubbled up between the both of you as she carried you on her back with ease. She let you down, ducking away before you could poke her in the side.

“I heard you’re heading to Ilum with the younglings?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Yep, we’re leaving in a few days. You and Master Kenobi are leaving tomorrow, right?”

“We think we’ve found a lead on Grievous,” you answered. “Which is the most good news Obi-Wan has had in a while with…Maul being back,” you had lowered your voice to a whisper.

“Anakin’s been a little weird too,” Ahsoka mumbled back.

“I’ve been a little what, Snips?”

The both of you turned to see Anakin exiting a room – which now made sense as to why Ahsoka was just lingering in the hallway – with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

“She said that I am far better at Dejarik than you.” You sidled up to Anakin, nudging him with your shoulder.

Anakin snorted, “Right, I’m sure.”

“I beat Obi-Wan.” You blinked innocently.

“…you did?”

You gave Ahsoka a look, which made you both burst out into another round of laughter.

“Should I be worried you three are causing trouble?” Obi-Wan entered the hallway from the same room Anakin had been in.

“No, Master,” the three of you responded, similar grins on your faces.

-

You were pacing the small length of the escape pod, unaware of two pairs of eyes that were on you. Ahsoka had been kidnapped by pirates. You knew that she could take care of herself, but you cared for the other Padawan like she was your younger sister. But the younglings were stranded – alone – without help.

Which the two men watching you knew set you on edge.

Obi-Wan spoke up first, “We will go after her as soon as we are picked up.” You felt the calm that he was pushing in your direction, and you let it wash over you. You spared a glance at Cody, who still had his helmet on. As you finally sat down next to him, his gloved hand brushed against yours. It was his way of checking in, to let you know that he was there even though he couldn’t be more obvious about it since your older brother figure who was also his commanding officer was less than three feet away from you.

“Thank you, Master.” You sent a small smile toward the Jedi.

Obi-Wan was always wonderful to you. You remembered a little from when you were a youngling yourself. It was always when Master Qui-Gon would visit. Obi-Wan would join him at times and you liked it when he read to you.

It had surprised you when he had bumped into you – or you, into him – at the Jedi Archives just a few years ago. It had surprised you even greater when he had taken you on as his Padawan. You were grateful for reasons you could not even begin to explain to him. One of which was also in the escape pod with you. There were so many moments you had wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about everything with Cody, but you had seen what he thought about Anakin’s feelings for Padme. You weren’t sure if Obi-Wan knew about their very real relationship and just chose to ignore it, or if he was in denial. Not that Anakin was great about hiding it.

“They’ll be able to get us in about an hour,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back in his seat.

“You didn’t happen to bring a game of Dejarik with you? Maybe they stowed one away in here?” You grinned as both men gave you a questioning look. “I may have told Anakin that I beat you at it.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Of course you did.”

“I beat you at Dejarik,” Cody pointed out.

You whined, “Yes but I beat all of the boys except for Maverick.” You pouted for a moment – the boys were glad that they had diverted your attention away from the stranded children – before your mischievous grin was back on your face. “So, when do I get to see the two of you play?”

-

A light ‘beep’ from your comms had you jumping up from your bed and unlocking the door. It slid open to reveal a de-armored Cody standing out in the hallway on the Republic Rescue Cruiser that had picked you up. You were in-route back to Coruscant with Ahsoka and the younglings in tow – all safe and sound. You had found a vacant room on the ship that gave you a bit of distance from everyone else. After spending some time with the younglings, you had sent Cody a message to meet you there later. Which was why he was in front of you now.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him inside with a soft, “Hello.”

“I slipped away as soon as I could, we never usually–” He was cut off by you kissing the Force out of him, his back pressed against the now closed door. His hands landed on your waist, a small moan leaving his lips. He pulled his head away, ignoring the small pain that goes through his skull as it hits the door, “Pip.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, grabbing his face with your hands to draw his lips back to yours. You needed him. It had been something you were figuring out since your first kiss. Every time his hands brushed up against you or he sent you one of his crooked smiles, heat would crawl up your neck and make its home in your cheeks.

You knew that you loved Cody.

But wanting him was an entirely different battle.

And not one that you were worried about losing as you were ready to devour him. Cody gasped, and you realized the energy that was pulsating in the room. It was like how you felt in that small closet, no space between you – except this time Cody was feeling it with you. “Okay?” You mumbled against his lips, afraid to overwhelm him. His only response was to grab the backs of your thighs and lift you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You giggled, kissing him sweetly. He carried you to the small bed, sitting on it so you could straddle him. He ran a hand through your hair, running his thumb down the side of your face. His warm eyes were gentle, hard lines of his face softened into something that was just for you.

“I thought we were going to talk about it before we did anything else,” the words left his lips and you could tell he was almost disappointed in himself. You sighed, knowing that the logical part of his brain was correct. Everything with him just felt right. You started to lift yourself from his lap, but he tugged you back down.

You quirked an eyebrow, “If we’re going to talk, I can’t be sitting on you.”

Cody narrowed his eyes playfully, and you enjoyed the lightness that seemed to envelop him. “Am I that distracting?”

“Yes, Cody.” He finally let go, allowing you to get up and sit beside him on the bed. You looked at him expectantly.

“I-uh,” he cleared his throat, “you and me, we’re–”

“I care about you,” you said simply. It was the truth. There was much more to that, but you understood that Cody wasn’t great with words about feelings. “And I know that there are a bunch of regulations and expectations. But I care about you and I don’t want to lose this.” You touched his scar with the tips of your fingers, and Cody leaned into your hand.

“We’ll look out for each other,” Cody provided.

“Like we always do,” you finished, a yawn escaping you.

“You should sleep.” The deadpan look on your face had him chuckling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You easily switch from sitting to laying on the bed, “Stay with me?”

He was right.

He couldn’t say no to you.

[pcrushinnerd]

A Mandalorian and A Jedi - Chapter 5

Warnings: We gettin’ into the horny weeds with this one...but nothing too risque (yet). A/N: Gif makers are a blessing and I’m not one of them....

||| masterlist |||

Zarkan truly was a scughole. Lissa said as much to Din, who just laughed.

 “Good we won’t be here long, then,” he said, as he steered the Razor Crest into port. After paying for the hangar space, laying the child down for a nap and securing him in his pram, and instituting the ground protocols on the ship, the bounty hunters set off for the main municipality of Kas.

 Lissa tried to shrug off the feeling of discomfort. This place was nowhere near the size of Coruscant, but it was still too...urban, industrial, for her liking. Too familiar for her tastes. She hoped Din was right, and they wouldn’t be here long.

 A human bounty by the name of Rex Calder was hiding out on this planet. Wanted for theft, embezzlement, assault, murder...he was a wily, ugly bastard. And all too aware that he was being hunted, so they had to be careful.

 Din and Lissa studied the bounty fob. “He’s nearby, moving, seemingly on foot.”

 Lissa nodded. “Go. I’ll have my eyes on you.”

 And she did, up until she didn’t.

 A bustle of shoppers were suddenly in front of her, and Din was nowhere to be seen. Lissa took a deep breath. If she could dart into an emptier side alley, she could rush to catch up to him.

 She stepped around a gaggle of mothers with their children before finding a side alleyway with only the occasional passerby.

 Lissa hurried. Din should only be a few meters ahead of her on the street--

 A man in a dark brown cloak stepped in front of her, blocking her path. It took her a second, but she realized it was the bounty they were hunting--Calder.

 “Looking for me, I suppose?”

 Lissa raised her blaster. “Maybe.”

 To her confusion, he just laughed, as he leaned against a building post. He threw back his hood.

 “Damn,” he eyed her up and down. “You look like a ghost, all the color bleached out of ya, but damned if it isn’t you...Lissa Ardoss,” he hissed.

Lissa’s blood ran cold, as it slowly dawned on her. The big ears, the wide mouth. The lavender eyes that were too beautiful for the rest of his face, which was ugly even before someone had lashed or clawed it several times, leaving deep scars.

 She internally scolded herself--how did she not recognize him? Granted, it had been years ago, and he had been one of her first bounties, when she was still struggling to learn all the ropes and get her bearings. He had almost slipped from her grasp twice, but she had managed to bring him in.

 “Chiv. Chiv Sen.”

 “In the flesh,” he confirmed, before stepping up to her. He looked her up and down. “It’s been a while, but you still look good, even after all this time....”

 She edged back, but otherwise had no clue what to do. One of their bounties had recognized her. Normally, Lissa would just laugh in this man’s face, before shooting him in an appendage, or in said face, but she found herself unable to move now.

 “What’s wrong, my dear, lovely girl?” Sen inched closer, and while it wasn’t lost on Lissa that he was starting to pull out a knife, she felt frozen still, unable to fully process what was happening, to formulate an appropriate response.

 It wasn’t just the fact that his recognition could prove costly, if not deadly, to her, but his presence brought her back to a time when she wasn’t as strong, nowhere near as honed and confident in her skills, in herself.

 It was also so...strange, to hear her own name. It dawned on her in that moment that she couldn’t recall a moment when Din had referred to her by her given name. “Ardross,” he would gruff, early in their relationship. He would never dare to refer to her by name out in public, calling out to her--if he had to--by some word in his Mando’a tongue--dala. The same term he would use to catch her attention in those rare moments he would need to when it was just the two of them and the child. Recently, he had also starting to use another term...mesh’la. She never asked what these words meant; she wasn’t entirely sure they were anything flattering.

 Sen took a large step toward her, rocking her from her reverie. “I’ll enjoy this, I think,” he mused, as he fully unsheathed a vibroblade, but before he could bring it up, he suddenly grunted out loud as a look of shock and pain overcame his face, at the same time a blaster shot rang out in the alley.

 Chiv Sen crumpled to the ground in front of her. Behind him, Din stood a few paces away, holstering his blaster before he rushed up to her.

 “You okay?”

 Lissa couldn’t look away from Sen, who was now clearly dead.

 “Hey,” she could hear Din say, as she felt a gloved hand grab her arm and shake it a bit.

 “I just...uh....” She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Sen, to look up at Din.

 “What? What is it cyare?”

 “He’s dead,” she stated flatly.

 Din looked down at at their bounty, then up at her. “He was threatening you.”

 Lissa finally raised her eyes up to her partner, but she said nothing.

 Din straightened. “The commission said dead or alive.”

 She swallowed, but remained silent, her eyes falling back to the dead body in front of her.

 “C’mon,” Din said, pulling gently on her arm. “We gotta haul him back to the ship.”

 .....

 Din had been keeping an eye on Lissa, ever since they returned to the Razor Crest. She had helped him physically drag the body in a tarp back to the ship, but since then, but she ignored it and him once they were safely ensconced in the ship. She instead tended to the child, retrieving him from his pram and giving him a snack to quell his small cries. She had said nothing the whole time, other than some quiet, soothing words to the child.

 There was a question hanging in the air, ironically even more pronounced after Rex Calder or Chiv Sen or whatever he called himself had been disposed of.

 “He recognized me.”

 “I heard.”

 She looked over at him, directly, for the first time since he had killed Sen. Din shifted uncomfortably on top of the crate he was sitting on, where he planned out their return route and some other logistics on his data pad.

 “Did you....” she looked down again. “Did you have to kill him?”

 Din looked up this time. He measured his words carefully before answering. “He was threatening you, about to attack you, and the commission—“

 Lissa rose swiftly, coming to stand before Din. “But you could have just tackled him or....”

 A heavy sigh.

 “I did what I had to.”

 She hesitated for just a beat. “For me?”

 They—more or less—locked eyes this time.

 “Yes.” Din didn’t move. “For you.”

 It was so silent on the ship, Lissa could hear her own heartbeat. Din’s was even louder inside his beskar-encased head. No internal monologue sounded inside either of their minds to direct them what to do next. But there was something building around them, something strong and pulling. Undeniable.

 Lissa raised a hand, then another--shaking enough that he had to notice, because she did, and she hated it--and they eventually came to rest on his shoulders. She heard his sharp but deep intake of breath through the modulator.

 Gradually, her hands inched inward, toward the helmet, sliding up the collar of the flak vest, until her fingers curled around the edge of his helmet.

 Din, on a surge of fear and on habit, raised his hands up to come around hers, to stop her. “I...I can’t.”

 She had made a crack, maybe just a few days into their new arrangement, about him never taking off his helmet. “It’s part of my creed. I can’t remove my helmet in front of another living thing, ever since I swore my oath. No Mandalorian can, except for their rid--spouses, and children.”

 Lissa did feel a bit awkward at that moment. She looked down at the shirt she was mending. “Guess I’m cramping your style now, huh, by always being around, so you can never take it off?”

 Mando looked over at the child, who was playing with some stuffed toys. “Not really.”

 Lissa followed his line of vision. She tilted her head. “You’ve never taken it off in front of your kid?”

 Din had no answer for that.

 They had managed a compromise by plunging the ship into darkness during an agreed-upon nighttime cycle, so he could remove his helmet and not be seen by her or the kid. Lissa had never really brought the issue up again, other than to ask whether he was stewing under the helmet when they were hunting a bounty on a particularly humid jungle planet. She had a hard time believing it could be at all comfortable most of the time, but she respected that it was part of his his beliefs. It wasn’t really any of her concern.

 But now, even though her opinions hadn’t changed and she still understood, being stopped from removing it still felt strangely like a rejection.

 “Oh.”

 Her hands were about to drop away, but Din squeezed them against his shoulders.

 Lissa gave him a questioning look.

 “Could you...close your eyes?”

 Doubt clouded her features.

 “It’s okay. Trust me.”

 Briefly, she sucked in her lower lip and sunk her teeth into it, before giving a small nod. A little nervous tic he had noticed in their time together--the lip biting. But something about seeing her do it only gave him further impetus to do what he was about to do.

 Lissa took a deep breath, before closing her eyes. She felt Din’s right hand move her left down to his chest, before moving away entirely. She heard a click and some sort of whooshing sound, before he moved her right hand off his shoulder and suddenly she felt....

 A kiss, slow and gentle, to the top of her hand. Then her fingers. Then he turned her hand around and those same warm, chapped lips were caressing her palm.

 Gods, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. No coherent thoughts, other than damn, she wanted this. Had for a while, admittedly, and she didn’t want it to stop.

 Maybe that’s why the first noise she made was a little peep of disappointment when he suddenly stopped. She was confused, as she heard another whoosh and click, until she suddenly heard cooing and babbling to her left.

 “You can open your eyes....”

 Lissa opened them, but she was quick to look to the side, to the source of the cute noises, which of course was the child.

 “Hey little guy!” she said sweetly to the green bean, with his big, brown eyes staring innocently at the two bounty hunters before him. Lissa swiftly moved toward Grogu and scooped him up, before tickling his little stomach and toes, which elicited a lot of giggles. “How about we get dinner started in earnest, hmm? Still got some bantha stew saved in cold storage....”

 Din suddenly felt like the odd man out in the room--which feeling, while not foreign to him, was still not welcome. He rose from the crate he was sitting on and moved toward the cockpit.

 .....

 Intimacy was not something Din was all that practiced at. Like most men, he liked to think it was a skill that flowed naturally from him, something that would click into place automatically when needed. Even though that need hardly ever arose in his four or five decades of existence; any “intimacy” he had a chance at in the past was swift and cold and usually paid for.

 It bothered him that he couldn’t read anything from the lack of response he had received from the woman he had been hunting and living in close quarters with for the past several months. While he had picked up on the little mewl of disappointment she made when he stopped, it had put him off how quickly she sort of forgot about him in favor of the child.

 Which was stupid, a part of him rationalized. They had basically been caught in the act by the kid; of course she was probably embarrassed.

 Gods, one of the things he loved about her was the fact that she was so like him, interpersonally. Besides the occasional wisecrack, she was mostly quiet and kept to herself. Was impassive. But he knew all too well how hard such a personality was to read, to gauge. He used those traits to his own advantage, when he needed to intimidate a lead or someone else he was trying to do business with. Now they seemed like a double-edged sword.

 Din’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard the woman in question ascending the stairs and entering the cock pit, where he was currently sitting at the helm despite not really needing to be, as the Crest zoomed silently through hyperspace on autopilot.

 He heard her sit behind him, in the seat to the left. She said nothing for some long moments.

 Strange, how a person’s presence could put him on edge and at ease at the same time.

 “Can I ask you something?” she finally said.

 The helmet turned slightly to the left. A beat. “Sure.”

 “Your face is always covered, in front of others, but what about...other parts of you?”

 That piqued his interest. He turned the pilot’s seat towards her.

 “What I mean is,” she was quick to add, “Do you always have to wear the gloves, for example?”

 The whole time she had been reheating dinner for her and Grogu, she had been wracking her brain about when she had ever seen his hands. She could recall times when he had removed the gloves for some utilitarian purpose, but she could never think of a time when he just...had them off. When his hands, or any appreciable part of his body, was just exposed for her or anyone else to really look at.

 “No,” he answered. He looked down at his hands, his fingers tapping nervously on the beskar that covered his thighs, betraying what he felt beneath everything.

 One of his hands moved to the other, but Lissa was quicker, taking his left hand into hers, and turning it over so his palm was facing upward. She gently plucked at the orange-tipped leather glove, one finger at a time, before a few more tugs had it off his hand completely.

 Din was barely breathing, as she stared down at his exposed hand, studying what she saw, before her own fingers started to gently move over the tanned skin, the short but smooth nails, the scars from previous battles fought and won.

 He had semi-expected her to mirror his earlier actions, to bring his hands up to those lush lips of hers and to make contact, but instead, her touches deepened, and she was messaging the muscles in his hand. Easing away tension, pain. Making him feel and think ungodly things.

 He wanted desperately to act on those thoughts and feelings, but another damn interruption came in the form of a beeping.

 His comm system. He looked over his shoulder to see an incoming call from Karga. Before he could even look back, Lissa was out of her seat and exiting the cockpit so he could take the call without her being seen.

 Din swore under his breath, before turning his seat and toggling on the answer switch in the control panel. “What?”

.... Taggity tag tags: @takemepedropascal​ @16boyfriends-and-me​

[ayo-cowbelly]

Always - Captain Rex x Reader (Maybe - Part 2)

Ahahahaha... back at it again *finger guns* I wanted to work on a series but this has been in my head and it won’t leave so... I went with it.

A little bit of AUing about where Rex went after the clone wars ended cause that’s just who i am. I made up the battle the reader is in during the beginning, cause *plot*. Okay this a/n is too long let’s just jump in.

Sorry this one is long, it kinda just flowed out of me. Hope you like it!

This is a part 2 to Maybe, so I recommend reading that first. Link can be found here.

taglist: @stevensfondue @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky cause they requested in the comments- probably wouldn’t have written this if they hadn’t requested so hope you two like it :)

Y/n: Your name.

masterlist

***

You kept a steady hand on the gunship handle as you and your men hurdled towards the surface of Ajan Kloss. The ship rocked as it dodged shots from Separatist cannons, some of them barely missing the sides. One shot was too close, and the explosion from it knocked one of your troops out of the LAAT/i- Rocket, was his name. He was a good friend of yours.

You shook the thoughts away, remembering to keep your mind in the present. No good would come out of getting distracted in battle; you had too much experience with that (a sore breakup being the cause) and you weren’t interested in it happening again.

“General!” You glanced up at Commander Blaze, your second. “The droids are too close! We won’t be able to make it to the landing site at this rate!”

“We’ll have to land farther back,” you went closer to the cockpit, using the Force to steady yourself. “Rush! We’re gonna have to touch down sooner than we thought. Land at coordinates,” you paused, remembering the holomap of the planet. “1137-4265!”

The pilot, Rush, nodded. “Got it, General! Hold on, this is gonna be a rough landing!”

You barely grabbed onto the handle before the LAAT/i tipped downwards, taking a steeper course to reach the (now closer) landing point. Your mind unconsciously went to another time, when you were in a situation much like this.

The gunship sped towards the ground of Geonosis, making this your second time in a battle here. You weren’t excited to be going back. But if the Separatists were building a factory here, something had to be done about it.

“General, you might want to hold on… I have a feeling this ship’s about to get unsteady.” You grinned at Rex, who was turned towards you, and you knew that under the helmet he was giving you a look for not grabbing the handles.

“Is that a challenge, Rex?” You always were one to make things… interesting, as you called it.

Others called it being unnecessarily reckless, but to each their own.

He shook his head, rocking a bit as the LAAT/i swerved. You narrowly avoided falling over in the cramped ship. “‘Course not, Sir. I just don’t feel like dealing with a missing general today.”

“Is that so? Well, I promise I won’t go missing. However, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be subdued today. After all, the fun is in the risk.” Still, though, you reached up and gripped the handle, just to be safe.

“Why did I have to get stuck with the adrenaline-junkie Jedi?” He muttered more to himself than you.

“Oh, come on. We make things entertaining,” you teased. “You love us.”

You felt something change in his Force signature when you said that, a feeling you couldn’t place. Not a bad one, but it was uneasy- secretive. But also… warm? You couldn’t see his face under the helmet, and you didn’t know what you’d find there if you could.  

Just then, the ship tilted sharply, and you practically went over the side, if not for an arm grabbing yours. Your hold on the handle had relaxed during your banter with Rex.

Speaking of him, he was gently but hurriedly pulling you back in the ship, grabbing the attention of your Co-General.

“Y/n! Be careful!” Anakin yelled over the blasts outside.

“Sorry!” You held the hand grip on the ceiling stronger than before. No matter how rash you seemed, you really didn’t want to fall out of the LAAT/i. You looked back at Rex, who was tilting his head as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“Yeah, yeah, you warned me. I’ll be careful.” You winked at your Captain, and you sensed that strange feeling flicker in his Force signature again.

***

Four days later, your fighter had been brought down to the surface of the jungle planet, along with more tanks, troops, and cannons. There had been reports of droids massing on Ajan Kloss, and they had been right. When you arrived, the numbers of enemies on the planet had been bigger than reported. Luckily, however, there weren’t many casualties in the battles that had taken place in the last few days.

You sat in your tent, mulling over your data pad. There were reports of many battles, including the recent one over Coruscant.

Apparently there was another siege going on- on Mandalore, of all places. At first, you had no idea why there would be a campaign there. It was a peaceful world in neutral space.

Until you remembered… Maul’s rise to power. And the death of Duchess Kryze. It was still jarring to think of it. Maul’s return was so sudden- Mandalore was just Mandalore, a reformed planet of peace. Until it wasn’t. The planet had become something much different following the death of its rightful ruler.

You wondered who was leading the siege. The company number, the 332nd, wasn’t one you recognized. Then again, these days, there were so many battalions, it was likely you just hadn’t noticed it before.

Then you saw…

332nd company

Commanding officer(s): Clone Commander CT-7567 “Rex”

Second-in-command: Advisor Ahsoka Tano

You didn’t bother reading the rest. Rex? And Ahsoka? You hadn’t seen her since her trial all those months ago. It still hurt to think of her, a young girl you thought of as your little sister (yes, you had grown apart following your leaving the 501st. But you had been together for so long, it was inevitable that the Togruta felt like family. And you still saw each other sometimes on Coruscant or on a joint mission, and you still cared about her as much as you did before).

The same could be said for someone else. Someone whose name you tried to forget. Someone who… who stabbed at your heart when their face entered your mind. Who made your stomach flutter, who made you cry, someone you loved deeply- no matter how much time passed.

You couldn’t… you couldn’t think of him right now. There was planning to do.

But Force, you hoped he was safe.

***

The Force was screaming. With pain, and betrayal, and hurt. So much hurt.

Bonds you had were snapping one by one, being severed quickly by something… strange. And painful. And every time a life force was extinguished, it was as if you were them; so many shots hitting you, phantom burns on your skin. And you didn’t know why; were they dying? How? Why?

whywhywhywhy-

You grabbed at your chest, stumbling. The Jedi… they were… no. Please, no.

What is going on? How could this be happening?

It hurts. Stop. Stop. Stop.

You fell on one knee, your face scrunching in pain. You wanted it to go away. You wanted it all to go away. This can’t be happening, please, let it stop, let it STOP, STOP-

stopstopstopstopstop

Your troops… they were acting strange. Their force signatures felt… off, you realized. As you shakily stood up, trying to regain your footing, you looked around at them all. Your thoughts raced.

The force is unbalanced, what is going on, why are they DYING-

You saw your commander out of the corner of your eye. Normally, Blaze was very diligent about the health of the troops, and that included you. Usually he’d be forcing you to the medic tent if he saw you like this. But now…

You watched in shock as he raised his blaster toward you. Turning around, you saw the other men do the same.

Wait, what? No, stop, why, this is wrong… wrongwrongwrong something is WRONG-

“B-Blaze,” your voice faltered. “What… what are you doing?”

“Quiet, traitor.”

And the clones opened fire.

***

“Anakin? What’s wrong?” You stared worriedly at the comm, the holographic form of your friend wavering a bit through the unsteady connection. You saw the dark circles under his eyes, they had grown in the time you’d been apart.

“Something’s happened. It’s not good. Really not good.”

Your brow furrowed. “Okay. What is it?” He didn’t answer at first, worrying you. “Ani?” You hadn’t used the nickname since you were children, when you were nothing more than Initiates, when there wasn’t a war.

“It’s Fives.”

Fives. You hadn’t seen him in a long time. But back in the 501st, he was one of your closest friends. You realized you hadn’t been comming him enough, something you’d have to work on. “What about him?”

“He’s… he’s dead, Y/n.”

“W-what? How? Why?”

Anakin sighed. “I don’t really know. It happened so fast. Something about chips, and a plot… he went insane. Tried to kill the Chancellor.”

It was like the wind was knocked out of you. The Fives you knew, your friend, wouldn’t… he wouldn’t. You ran your hand over your face as sadness filled you.

“How did-” you fiddled with your hands. “How did Rex take it?”

“Not good,” Anakin said softly. “He was there, when it happened. We both were. He held Fives as he died.”

“Oh, no…” Your lip quivered. How you wished you could’ve been there. For Rex.

For Fives.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I know you and Fives were close.”

You nodded. “I should… I should go. Lots to do.” Anakin opened his mouth to say something, but you ended the call before he could.

In the solace of your quarters, you quietly let the tears fall.

***

You slumped over in your chair as you entered hyperspace. You vaguely remembered setting the navicomputer to Dantooine, but it felt like a dream.

Actually, the entire last hour felt like a dream.

You remembered your men, the ones you trusted with your life, raising their weapons at you. Calling you a traitor. And firing.

You remembered drawing your lightsaber and dodging, heading for your fighter.

You remembered sprinting. And cursing. Adrenaline taking over. And shots grazing your skin, three ringing true. You checked over your body, at the wounds. Those would have to be taken care of soon.

You remembered taking off, flying as fast as your ship could go. Docking with the hyperdrive ring that you stationed in the atmosphere. And then…

Well, now you watched as the bright blue stars whizzed by.

The Force was still in pain. It wasn’t screaming anymore, but wounded. Deeply wounded, like someone had slashed at it with a lightsaber. A chasm of pain was flowing through it, because of-

No. They couldn’t be-

Couldn’t be-

Dead.

No-

Why-

The clones-

The pain-

The betrayal-

What is happening?

What happened to them?

Why? Why? WHY?

whywhywhywhywhywhy-

And in your fighter, you screamed.

***

Dantooine was peaceful.

Peace… peace seemed unattainable, but it was something you were happy to chase after.

No matter how long it took, no matter how alone you were, you wanted to find peace.

***

About six months after you arrived on Dantooine, you searched the Force. It was the first time you could truly bear opening yourself up to it. Before, it had still been reeling with the deaths -murders- of your people, and the agony had been so heavy that you couldn’t open up to the Force for more than a few minutes, sometimes seconds, at a time.

This time, even though it still hurt, you probed the Force around you. Trying, hoping, to find someone you knew who was still alive. You wanted, needed, to find someone to reach out to. The solitude of being a fugitive was getting to you.

Yes, there were many clones to be found, but they…

They weren’t an option. Not anymore.

(Blaze, your remarkable commander, was in the hands of the Galactic Empire. He was one of your closest friends, once. Until-)

You wondered, in those harrowing months, what had happened to your beloved Captain. Was he still out there, was he part of the Empire, or dead-

Maybe it’d be better if he was… then I’d know he wasn’t one of their puppets-

Y/n, how could you think that?!

Why did it have to come to this?

As you delicately explored the force, shying away from the split bonds (they burned when you touched them), you wondered-

Maybe, if he was alive, what if your bond was still there?

You wanted to find out. After all, you realized, I never did want to live without him. I don’t think I can anymore.

That wasn’t the Jedi way.

But the Jedi-

They were gone.

***

“Rex, I- I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n. We’re in this together. Always.”

***

The thread of your bond with him had frayed a bit, but it was still there. A bond that came from loving someone so deeply wouldn’t have gone away in a few months of separation.

Not when you still loved him so.

Even if he was-

If he was-

If he-

If he was one of them, an Imperial- well, you didn’t care. You had to see him again. If he came here with a squadron and terminated you, a traitorous Jedi… you weren’t sure if you cared.

If the last thing you saw was him, that would be enough. A dark thought, yes, but then again, all your thoughts had been a little dark lately.

You tugged on the thread. Gathering your strength, you sent a message. Come find me, love.

Dantooine. I’m here. Coordinates 2247-3656.

I love you. I always have. I always will.

Come find me.

***

A week went by.

Nothing.

So you tried again.

Dantooine. I’m still here. 2247-3656.

Come find me. Please.

I love you.

Again and again, for weeks.

Come find me, Rex.

I’m alive.

Dantooine. 2247-3656.

***

After two months of this went by, you decided to try one last time.

Dantooine. 2247-3656.

I’ll be here, love. Always.

***

Another month went by before it happened.

You lived on a small farm, and you were in the fields when the engines of a ship filled your ears.

Seeing as your farm was significantly far from others, you knew that whoever it was had to be here for you.

And suddenly, a presence you hadn’t felt in much too long was filling your senses.

He came.

You watched, frozen, as he approached. You hadn’t really seen each other since your separation, almost two years ago. You hadn’t had a real conversation since then, either. Holo or otherwise.

But that didn’t matter.

Snapping out of your daze, you ran to him with tears in your eyes. Crashing into his arms, you sobbed as he held you.

“I wasn’t sure if it was real, I thought I was going crazy- I’m so happy you’re alive,” He said softly.  

“I never stopped. Loving you, I mean. I- I never want- to let you go again,” You choked out.

You felt him hold you tighter. “Me too. I love you, Y/n. We’re in this together.”

Pulling back slightly, you traced his cheekbone as you whispered, “Always.”

There were dark times ahead. But with him by your side, you would get through it.

Always.

Fin.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Christmas, 1985 (WITT One-Shots)

A/N: I thought it’d be nice to show a bit of Lupin fluff -Danny

Words: 1,590 

Series’ Masterlist

Remus Lupin used to think his twenty-year-old self would live a quiet life.  A lonely one, but happy nonetheless. He had no idea he would end up chasing after a five-year-old girl on Christmas morning.

"Mel!" He ran through the trees holding the little girl's hat. "Come back!"

The only reply he got was the child's cackles as she ran around the forest, probably running after a squirrel. Emily had trusted Remus with the little girl only because he'd assured her that he could handle it. It was clear that it had been a lie, with every passing year Mel seemed to gain more and more energy.

He heard a soft thud and rush over to the sound. Mel had fallen face-first next to a tree, probably tripped on its roots.

"Oh, dear..." He picked her up right away and examined her face, she looked a bit disoriented, like she couldn't believe what had just happened. Remus frowned. "I told you not to run, Mel."

"But there was a bunny!" Mel's eyes widened in excitement. "A white one, uncle Lu!"

She had lots of trouble pronouncing 'Remus', so she usually called him Lu. He didn't mind it.

"Well, of course," Remus's arms held her firmly as he carried her back to the house. "This is a forest. They live here. Now let the poor thing have a peaceful morning."

"But it's Christmas!"

"Exactly," Remus poked her side playfully. "You're a strange little thing. I never knew a kid that would rather go out and chase bunnies when she could be opening her presents in a warm room."

Mel giggled as a reply, wrapping her arms around his neck and happily letting him take her back to the house. Once there, Emily welcomed them with a warm plate of cookies and hot chocolate.

"What happened to you, you little devil?" Emily frowned in amusement.

"Alice tried to chase after a bunny but her legs are too small," Remus said, then smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I tried to stop her but she's way too fast for a toddler."

"Tell me about it," Emily raised a brow. "Let's go wash your hands, Mely..."

The woman tried to grab the girl's hand but Mel ran back to Remus and hugged his leg tightly.

"I want my uncle Lu to help me!"

Emily crossed her arms and frowned.

"Beg your pardon?"

Mel smiled apologetically and rephrased her demand.

"Uncle Lu, can you help me?"

"Gladly," Remus grinned, picking her up once more.

"You're spoiling that child, Moony!" Emily yelled as he took Mel to the sink.

He laughed. "Well, she's the only niece I'll ever have, I think I'm allowed to spoil her a bit."

"What's a spoil?" Mel asked as he scrubbed her palms.

"It means that I love you lots," Said Remus, kissing the top of her head.

Mel scrunched up her nose and giggled again, squirming away from his grasp as soon as she was done washing her hands. They sat around the table, Emily had to put a few cushions on Mel's chair so she could reach her plate.

"Would you like to open your presents after breakfast?"

Mel nodded,  stuffing her mouth with cookies.

"Ha' you open' you's?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Mel, don't be messy," Emily replied, cleaning her daughter's face. "No, I haven't. I was waiting for you two."

Remus stared at the two guests with a strange feeling creeping up his chest. Emily was pretty much the only family he had left, and he still couldn't believe that she wanted him to take part in Mel's life. Sure, he was her godfather, but it didn't mean he needed to be around. Still, Emily trusted him enough to be there during birthdays and holidays. That was more than he could've asked.

"Everything okay?" Emily inquired, nudging his leg.

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, I'm okay," He smiled. "I'll do the dishes, you take her to the living room."

"Noooo," Mel pouted. "I want you to see!"

"I'll see it in a moment," He replied, starting to pile up the dishes so he could take them.

"But I want you to see me!" She insisted.

"I'll do the dishes, you take her," Emily smirked, standing up beside him.

"Okay," Remus said, intrigued by the girl's choices.

Mel got up and grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the living room. Five minutes later they were seated on the rug, and the girl had several presents on her lap, ready to dig through them. There was a neatly wrapped present that had the initials A.D. on them, and Remus assumed that had to be from Dumbledore.

Emily sat next to the girl and helped her unwrap most of her presents, when they got to the one with the initials, she frowned.

"Is it from Dumbledore?" Remus asked.

"I don't know," She examined the wrapping. "Doesn't have a card, but it must be."

"Let me see!" The little girl said excitedly.

Emily handed her the package and Mel ripped the paper apart. Inside there was a small jumper, it looked slightly worn out. When Mel noticed it was a piece of clothing she lost interest right away and continued to open more presents, however, Emily picked it up as if it were made of silk.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"This jumper... it was Matthew's favourite when he was little– I saw a picture..." Emily picked up the card again and read the initials. "It's from Aberforth, it's gotta be."

Remus raised his eyebrows and stared at the jumper. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was quite surprising to get something from Aberforth himself, after all the years he'd spent avoiding the family. He'd only met Mel once, a day after her birth. He wondered if maybe Dumbledore had something to do with this.

Mel wasn't faced about it, she went through her presents and played all day with her mother and her uncle, although she continued to demand his attention more than Emily's. He was quite shocked about this but didn't comment on it until Emily brought it up once Mel was asleep on her bed.

"You must be feeling like quite the celebrity," She said. "You can tell she's become attached to you, I hope she doesn't suffer once we go back to Privet Drive."

"She's fond of me?" Remus asked shock.

It was a silly question, but he really couldn't understand why a toddler would find him interesting. Let alone one that was so energetic and sociable. In his opinion, he was too quiet and reserved, and yet, Mel would revolve around him with adoration.

"Well of course she's fond of you!" Emily replied. "She adores you, and she loves your house– She's quite fond of nature, you see..."

"I'll miss you two," Remus admitted after a moment. "The house gets awfully quiet when she's not here."

"Oh well, you know you're always welcome to visit anytime, it's not like we have anything else to do," Emily replied with irony.

"Dunno... I don't think I'm ready to see Harry," He confessed.

Emily tensed at the mention, but she nodded in understanding.

"He's a lovely boy. Small, looks a lot like his father... but you already knew that."

"Mel and he still haven't met?"

"I don't let her leave the house. She's too young, you know..." Emily's face darkened. "I'm scared she'll have one of those bursts of magic kids her age usually have, and I don't want the other children to hurt her."

"You have your reasons," Remus admitted. "But perhaps if Harry and Mel meet..."

"What?" Emily huffed. "Listen, if they decide to be friends I won't stop them, but I won't push them together..." She shook her head. "It's hard. I wish I had a way to figure this out, I wish I had all the right answers, but I don't know how I'll feel if I ever see them in the same room, I don't know how I'll react."  

A sound of light footsteps caught their attention, both adults turned to look at the hall and found Mel's tiny figure approaching. She had a sleepy expression, and she was dragging her teddy bear.

"What's the matter, love?" Emily asked, immediately standing up.

"I had a nightmare," Mel's soft voice replied.

"Probably from all the food you had," The woman sighed. "I told you not to eat all those cookies..."

"I'll take her to bed," Remus stood up.

Emily turned to look at him and tried to refuse, but he shook his head.

"You've had a long day, I can take her."

Without replying, Mel stretched out her arms towards Remus, silently asking him to carry her. Remus chuckled and obliged, once she was safely on his arms, he looked at his friend.

"It's okay," He assured her, "go to sleep."

Emily stared at them lovingly for a moment before nodding. Remus walked back to the room where Mel usually stay whenever they were visiting, and put her to bed.

"D'you want me to wait for you to fall asleep again?"

Mel nodded and yawned, already half-gone. She reached out and blindly looked for something until she came in contact with his hand. The little girl wrapped her chubby, little fingers around his thumb and squeezed, a small smile spreading across her face.

Remus missed his friends dearly, he would constantly think of them, and he would constantly feel miserable about it, still, whenever Mel was around, he couldn't help but feel somehow lucky.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[mangobilorian]

Falling | (mature) ii

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Genre: Fluff 

Words: 12,179

read first chapter

The jungle is sentient. Now, there’s no scientific proof that the jungle is actually alive, but it does seem to be out to get you. In fact, the land of Theatis 06 has thrown everything ungodly at you and the captain the second you woke up.

Firstly, the normally heavy rains of the jungle evolved into a full-on heavenly flood about an hour into your hike. Captain Rex had simply huffed in frustration and pushed forward. He, of course, expressed concern over you, but it was just water, so it was tolerable. Right? It was just water despite being thick and sticky and wet .

You had muttered your complaints for hours. You normally weren’t the type to be so bratty but the rain kept pouring like it had a vendetta against you. As the complaints kept pouring out your mouth, the captain—who was probably fed up from hearing you— offered to take a break.

“I’m fine, captain. Thank you for your concern.”

“You’ve been cursing a storm since we left the cave. Besides, it’s just water.” You glared at the back of his helmet.

“You’re in full armor. I’m in,” you flicked the bottom of your dress up, “a loose dress and a skin-tight under layer. You don’t get to say, ‘it’s just rain.’” But the captain merely laughed and offered a hand to help you over a slippery rock.

“The armor offers protection, but I still feel wet. And hot.” You scoffed.

“We both know your armor is temperature controlled. You can’t fool me.” He chuckled at your mock outrage and gripped your waist.

“What are you-”

“I’m helping you, princess. Now stay still.” He picked you up and hauled you over a deep crevice. If the captain hadn’t noticed, you would have fallen in. You continued walking, but the captain didn’t let go of your waist. Thankfully, your wet hair hid the warmth in your cheeks.

The rain lightened up a couple hours later, and you had cheered in relief. Finally, some reprieve from the weather. Except the jungle decided to throw a jungle cat in the mix. Not only did you and the captain have to run for your lives, you also lost the supply bag along with the rations. So the pair of you were soaking wet and out of food. Perfect.

“I’m so sorry, captain. I didn’t know what else to do but-”

“Throw our only supply bag at the cat?” He shook his head, almost in disappointment. You frowned

“It was on top of you! I couldn’t have pushed it off.”

“Even if you could,” he huffed, “I wouldn’t have allowed you any closer to the cat.”

“You wouldn’t have allowed me?” The captain turned, and you could tell—even with the bucket covering his head—that he looked exhausted. Maybe annoyed.

“My job is to protect you, princess.”

“Even if it means risking your life?” The arm around your waist tightened to the point of squeezing.

“Yes. If it has to come to that.”

“Well, I don’t allow you to do that.”

“Oh, now you’re the one making orders.” All at once, the tension popped like a balloon, and you laughed together. The captain had a nice laugh. It was full and warm and sorely needed in your time of bad luck.

After the rain and the cat, you had braced yourself for the next obstacle. The captain urged you to remain optimistic, but you knew—everyone knew— that bad luck came in three. So you were understandably on edge for the duration of your hike. Every snap of a twig, every chirp in the trees; you were tense, cautious, and slow . You knew you were being slow to the point where it probably frustrated the captain. But with your caution, you discovered something.

Looking up at the sky, not believing the sight. You rub at your face, hands already reaching out to stop the man next to you. “Do you see that?” You point a shaky finger over the treetops. Captain Rex halts his steps and follows your hand.

“Looks like smoke. Which means….”

“Civilization.” You grin at him and start to run. You ignore the captain’s protests behind you, too concentrated on not tripping on the jungle roots. Except, a wet rock causes you to slip, hands waving in front of your face, bracing for impact. But you don’t fall. Instead, the captain has both arms wrapped around your torso. His body wraps around yours, and he sets you back on your feet. Maker, why did the air suddenly get hotter?

“Be careful. I told you not to run. We’ll get there eventually.” He mutters, letting go of you. You mumble a thank you and resign to walking alongside the captain in silence.

“Are all your brothers blond too?” You blurted. The question had been eating at you for a while, and there was no better time to ask.

“I-what? No, not everyone is blond.”

“So you’re born with it?” He shakes his head. “Then you’re a bottle blond?” The captain coughs in mock offense. You give him your most innocent, puppy-like eyes.

“N-no. I mean, yeah. I-I bleach it.” He shoves a stray tree branch aside with enough force that it seems like the branch personally hurt him. “Besides, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” The smoke ahead continues to rise as you hike closer. Enough time passes that it seems like the conversation is over, but… you keep thinking about it. About the captain. “I take it back. It matters because you look good, and if your brothers had the same hair, they’d probably look just as handsome too.” You waltz ahead—face as warm as the jungle around you— not bothering to wait for the captain who had stopped in his tracks.  

Thankfully, you see the edge of the village up ahead.

“Looks like we’ve arrived.” The black smoke rises steadily, and tall wooden fences block the houses in a circle. There’s an empty space, which you assume is the entrance, in the middle. The captain follows behind you.

As you enter, you can already sense the type of settlement it is. The houses are primitive, with no signs of droids or technology. Children play around in an open area of the village. They laugh, sounds of pure, bright joy. To the side, some mothers wash clothes in basins while others hang them on racks. A group of younger women, probably closer to your age, are rolling some sort of material. It looks like tarp or some other waterproof cover. Various fires are lit around the village, pots of water boiling atop. They look… happy. Untouched.

Before you can fully step inside, one of the children looks at you and points. Soon enough, all the kids are curious and excited, rushing over to investigate. They’re probably amazed at the captain’s armor because they gather around him first. However, one of the mothers stops them just as they reach you.

Her voice is scolding and heavy with caution. “Who are you?” She scowls, laying a protective hand on the little girl closest to you.

The captain starts to answer, but you grip his elbow in warning. As diplomatic as he can be, he’s still a soldier first. Talking was your area of expertise. “We’re simple travelers. Our ship crashed in the forest, and we lost everything. Could you point us to the capital?” You arrange your face into one of helplessness. Eyes downturned, lips curved downwards. The woman is about to respond when an elderly lady steps in.

Her face is lined with wrinkles, spots, and other obvious signs of a life in an unforgiving environment. But her smile and the light in her eyes speak of joy in tough times. Of living rather than surviving. She reaches out to grasp your hands in both of hers, the leathery warmth already soothing your nerves.

“Welcome to our village, young travelers. I am Xi, but you can call me grandma. Now, how can we help a young couple like you?” The captain opens his mouth in protest, but you tighten your hold on his elbow. He winces.

You let out a demure smile. “My husband and I would  appreciate a place to stay and some food. We don’t have money, but we can pay in labor.” Xi nods at your response and motions the two of you to follow her. The mother next to Xi relaxes a bit, but her gaze never leaves you. The children merely stare in awe.

As Xi walks through the village, you take the opportunity to observe the place. Large buckets line the perimeter of the area, and various fire pits contain small blazes. More of that tarp-like material covers the walkways between houses, but the young women take them down and roll them out. Xi leads you closer to the center of the settlement, and you eye the large fire pit complete with seating.

She motions towards a house, the smallest one actually, and enters. The two of you follow right behind her. The house is quaint, a small fireplace in one corner and crates for storage.

“This is the guest hut. Not many travelers come by but enough do to warrant this. The path leading from the back of the village heads straight to the capital.” She waves her hand at a raised section of the floor. “It’s not a real bed, but it’s the best we have. Why don’t you look for some blankets, dear?”

You preoccupy yourself with rifling through the crates for blankets, maybe pillows. You don’t register the conversation between the captain and Xi, but they’re both laughing. When you finally gather the materials and prepare them on the bed, you turn to find Xi rubbing a gentle hand on the captain’s back.

“Ahh, I see, my son. Very unfortunate.” You jerk your head towards her, confused as to what they’re talking about. “Regardless, I hope you enjoy your stay.  Dinner will be soon, and you’re welcome to help in preparations. The sun is about to set too, so change out of your wet clothes and into some dry ones. It gets chilly at night. ” Xi smiles at the captain then at you—face full of cheeriness and something like hope— and leaves.

Meanwhile, the captain goes through the crates himself. “The capital is about half a day’s journey on foot. Here,” he tosses some clothes over his shoulder.

You grasp the soft material. The fabric is light and made to cool the wearer in the stifling jungle humidity. You strip off your damp dress and start to unzip your black under layer. The tight suit feels like second skin and not in a good way.

A choked apology causes you to look up at the captain. A beautiful blush creeps over his tanned cheeks and down his neck. You wonder if he blushes in more places too. His eyes avert to the side, and he coughs pointedly. With a start, you realize that you were stripping in front of the captain. Maker, I’m a hot mess , you sigh internally. It was one thing to be naked next to any man, but next a captain of the GAR who’s functioning as your bodyguard while you’re also disguised as a couple? That’s another level of embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry, captain.” You turn around, facing the walls instead of the blushing captain.

“Please. Just Rex here. Since the villagers think we’re married.” The nervousness in his voice is palpable and only serves to make you scream. At least you know he’s just as scared as you were. Stars, how can someone so hot be so shy .

“Then you should call me by my name as well.” Just as he opens his mouth to protest, you hold a hand up. “No excuses.” You finish shrugging out of your clothes and ease into the provided dress. You turn to face him and give a little twirl, finishing in a curtsy. The captain—Rex—chuckles, causing your cheeks to warm.

He whispers something, but you don’t quite catch it. He had already shucked off his armor and unzipped his blacks, turning around to change into some new, dry clothes. You know you shouldn’t, but you watch anyway. The hard muscles of his back contract and loosen as he moves around. There aren’t many scars there, just bruises. Big ones too. The purple and blue blots were probably from the crash. He must have absorbed most of the impact since he had sheltered you in his arms. Nonetheless, he looks broad and wide and strong . You force your eyes to not wander below his waist and promptly look away.

Once Rex puts on the loose shirt and matching pants, he arranges his blue-stained armor into a neat pile, setting aside the twin blasters to be cleaned later. Outside, sounds of excitement and joy flicker around the village as well as increased cheers. “Seems like the men came back from their hunt.”

“Hunt?” You’re about to peek out the door when Rex replies.

“Each day, the men of the village venture out and hunt down game. Mostly the jungle cats, but also wild birds, feral dogs… stuff like that. Grandma told me about it.”

“Grandma? You already call her that?” You accuse with a smile. Rex rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring to a delightful pink.  

He shrugs in feigned nonchalance. “Well, she’s been really nice to us, and she did say to call her grandma.”

“Does she remind you of your own grandma?” you say, not realizing your words. However, the shock, the embarrassment on his face makes you think back to what you said. Shit. You just asked a clone— someone who was made in a vat, someone who was never actually born through traditional means— if they were reminded of their own grandma. How callous could you be? Before you could apologize, Rex stops you.

“It’s fine. It was a slip of the tongue and-” you shake your head, effectively silencing him.

Your hands clench in anger. Not at Rex—never at him—but at yourself. “No. I’m so sorry, Rex. I know this might not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me. It may be a slip of the tongue, but I shouldn’t have been ignorant or lax enough to even think that.I might be exaggerating this, but…I’ve only ever heard stories of clones. Or of Kamino. You were the first clone I’ve ever met, and I don’t know what I was expecting but it certainly wasn’t you. Yes, you have the same face as your brothers, the same build, the same voice, but you’re not the same person a-and you’re special , Rex. I shouldn’t have reminded you about your situation o-or diminished the obvious joy you got from experiencing what it’s like to have a grandma a-and-��

Somehow, in the midst of your apology, Rex closed the gap between you and gently pressed a finger to your lips. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

“I know. Little gods, I know , princess. While some people might see clones as sub-human, I’ve been blessed to serve under Jedis like Skywalker, Kenobi, Padawan Tano, and more who have treated me like a regular person. I know that I am more than a number. It just amazes me that you, having spent two days maximum with a clone, already see me as an equal while many people on Coruscant don’t.” The look in his eyes is sincere, his hand on your shoulder a firm reminder that this is all real. That he wasn’t angry or disappointed. In fact, he seems to be… grateful. An idea that only makes your eyes start to water.

As your eyes well up, out of inner frustration making way for release or just general emotional relief, you surge and bury your head into Rex’s chest. He’s caught off balance but quickly recovers and wraps his arms around you. He pats your back, albeit awkwardly, and the two of you simply wallow in the aftermath of your heartfelt (definitely dramatic) encounter. The embrace… feels good. Hugs always feel good, and it's a shame you’re not allowed to hug often back at the palace. Of course, the strong captain you’re sharing the hug with certainly makes the experience more enjoyable.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. The captain slowly releases you from his hold, the loss of warmth making you pout. “We should go help out with dinner.” You nod in agreement, and Rex reaches a thumb out to catch a stray tear before he could stop himself. But he pauses right as he does it, the impropriety of the action catching up to him. His job was to protect you, not give you hugs and dry your tears. Instead of a scolding, however, you give a small smile as the captain stutters out an apology before stepping further away from you and leaving the house. Well. You can’t say that you don’t enjoy seeing Rex flustered. Because you do. Stars above, he looks possibly gorgeous when he blushes.

But the fluttering in your own heart is another story. The erratic beats in your chest, the sweaty palms, the warm cheeks. This was not good. Attraction was one thing but being attached was another. You laugh at yourself, the humorless breath grounding you in reality.

Too many things just happened, and you don’t have the brain capacity to think properly. Not wanting to dwell on it, you gather your wits and leave the house to help the rest of the village.

*****

The jungle air runs colder at night, but the large bonfire provides enough heat for the whole village. You sit on a hard stone bench, eating a chunk of wild bird, Rex to your right. He talks to a group of men and children alike, and they marvel at his war stories.. All around, families gather around the fire, eating and enjoying another night. The tarp-like material lays rolled up by the houses, allowing for distant stars to shine through the gaps between the trees.

The skeptical mother from earlier, Kwi, approaches you with a cup and hands it over. The brown liquid warms your hand. “Enjoying yourself?” You nod, sipping contents. It stings your throat, and you can’t hide your wince. Kwi laughs, swigging her own drink, finishing it in one gulp. “Burns, right?”

“Yes. Quite… strong.” You contemplate taking another sip, but decide against it. Alcohol and you were not a good combination. “Kwi?” She hums in response. “Do you enjoy life here? Despite being away from the capital or from technology?”

She stays silent for a moment, thinking. Her daughter climbs up her lap and settles into her mother’s chest, sleepy eyes fluttering at you before closing. “Yes. We are very happy here. We hear stories of other planets and technology we can’t even imagine. But we’ve also heard of the war, and it’s reached us already. If there was a choice,” she sighed, “we wouldn’t be a part of it. Especially since there are little ones,” she says. “When will you and your husband have children?”

The idea of you and Rex having children is… absurd. Since you’ve only known the man for so little time, the thought never crossed your mind. But Kwi was still staring, patiently waiting for an answer, gently rubbing her daughter’s sleepy head. “We’re still young. But maybe soon.” You turn, facing your supposed husband.

The firelight makes his face glow. The harsh lines of war reduced to softer curves. Under the moon, the young soldier looks like any other man.

“It’s beautiful to see that you still love each other.”

“Pardon?”

“In your eyes. You can’t deny those feelings. My husband… he died some time ago. He looked at me the same way you look at your husband.” Her face sagged into sadness, and she clutched her daughter closer. You reach out a hand to settle on her arm, gentle and soothing.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You’ve never lost anyone dear to you but the thought of losing a husband—especially when you had children— is unbearable. You saw Kwi as a strong person the second you entered the village, but news of her loss only made her stronger in your eyes. A true survivor.

Kwi sniffs in response, as if dismissing her sadness, and her face eases into nonchalance. “It’s alright. He fought bravely against those droids. Because of his sacrifice, our village was saved.”

“Droids?” Your surprise seems to amuse and confuse her.

Still patting her daughter’s back, she turns to allow more of the fire to warm her child. “Yes. The large ships birthed many droids, and they marched to the capital, destroying everything in their way. The jungle healed itself, but many lives were lost.” Words struggle to escape your mouth. The Separatists were already here? Why did no one tell the Jedi or the Republic or even you ?

Kwi lays a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You can stay here, you know. We understand that you want to go to the capital, but it’s too dangerous. Whatever you have to do there, it won’t end well.” She’s right. One princess and clone captain won’t stand a chance against a droid-occupied capital city.  

But you have a duty. Not just to your own people, but to the villagers as well. To all those who suffered from Separatist rule. “Thank you, Kwi. We’d be happy to stay, but there are important things to do in the capital.” You smile, a genuine, warm curve. Beside you, the captain rubs your back, and you lean into the touch. He turns to give you a tiny nod before continuing his conversation.

Suddenly, Xi stands in the center of the area, as close to the fire pit as she can get. She holds a cup in her hand and raises it high above her head. “To the young couple!” The rest of the villagers lift up their drinks, cheering. Sleepy children rouse from their rest but don’t fully wake. “May your marriage prosper.” Xi shoots you a grin, full of mischief, and she winks as if she knows that you and Rex were faking it all. She brings her cup to her mouth and—alongside the rest of the villagers— downs the alcohol in one go.

You and Rex glance at each other, and it’s too dark for him to see your warm cheeks. He clinks his cup against yours and takes a swig, so you do the same. The burn still hurts, but you don’t mind the warm feeling in your stomach.

*****

Rex’s breath sends tingles down the base of your neck. You’re both under the light blankets provided in the guest house, not touching. “My favorite brother? That’s hard to decide, really. I have too many. If I had to pick… Cody is a bastard, but we’re deployed together often, so I see him a lot. Fives is a contender, but his favorite is Echo. Maybe Wolffe? Eh. They’re all my vod . I have to love them.”

You turn around, tucking a hand under the pillow. The fireplace is the only thing illuminating the room, the shadows running across Rex’s face. “Since you’re all different people, you might have opposing views then. How do you blindly trust if the only thing you know is that they’re your brothers?” His face shifts, brows scrunching.

Quietly, so quietly you almost don’t catch it, “I was betrayed once. By someone I respected. His name was Slick. I like to think the second he became a traitor, he stopped being my— our —brother.” You hum in response and reach out to his face.

You trace his cheek, and he flinches at the contact but doesn’t stop you. You continue down the harsh line of his jaw, the hard muscles in his neck. “What’s your favorite planet in the galaxy?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, opting to relax under your gentle touch instead. “I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me. I have a love-hate relationship with Kamino because I was born there, but it was not a good childhood—not a childhood at all. Coruscant is alright. It means I’m on leave, but the people… are not always nice. And the other planets I visit are usually not for leisure. So I don’t really know what my favorite planet is.”

You scoff. “Impossible. We all have favorite planets, Rex. Some day, I’ll take you to my home world and show you the waterfalls, the canyons, especially the hanging gardens. And we can go swimming in the lakes or climb up the trees. Maybe visit the rainforests.”

He laughs. “I’m not sure I want to visit another rainforest after I get out of here.”

“Good point,” you grin. Rex looks so pretty when he smiles. Or when he does anything really. But another thought pushes at the back of your head. “How will we leave this place? Separatists control the capital already. I was too late; my mission failed before it even started. What am I even doing here? A princess in a jungle… what will my people think of me?”

Rex sobers up, his laugh completely gone. “You know that you’re more than a princess, right? Look, you told me earlier about how special I was, but you seem to forget that you’re special too. That you’re a person first. And yes, our situation is pretty ridiculous, but it’s reality.” He reaches out, tentatively, and oh so gently rubs small circles your shoulder.

You sigh and contemplate snuggling closer to the captain. But that would be too much, right? Crossing the boundary, passing the line of decorum? As much as you want to, even under the guise of seeking warmth,  snuggling next to Rex would be inappropriate. “Princess… we’ll get out of this together. The mission is not done. Once we head to the capital, we’ll find a way to transmit a message to General Skywalker. After the 501st arrive and clear the area, you can go and make treaties with the ruling members of Theatis 06, and well… the mission will be over, and you no longer need me.” But what if I need you for longer? The traitorous thought echoes in your mind, but you shove it down. As far down as you possibly can.

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, eyelids feeling heavier than before. “Guess I’m lucky I got a captain like you in my escort. Seems like someone knew the Seppies were already here…” your words taper off, slowed and slurred.

The air around you is chilly, and the blanket offers some protection. Yet, Rex’s body heat is simply too tempting. Too comforting and way too inviting to resist. Not even thinking about it, you curl towards his chest, the top of your head pressed against his neck. You hear him huff in surprise, and you have enough sense to pull back. But the captain wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer.

“Sleep,” he whispers.

*****

The sun hangs uncovered for once, shining on the villagers gathering at the far end of the settlement. Kwi stands at the forefront, her daughter clinging to her legs. They wave enthusiastically, and you reciprocate.

Xi grips your shoulders. “Be safe, child. Do what you must. And,” she leans in to whisper, “make sure you tell him how you feel.”

You pull back, shocked, but she grins wolfishly. “I’ve seen enough fake couples in my lifetime, dear. But what you and that man have is real.” She winks, letting go to give Rex a hug as well.

You’ll miss the village. Very much. The people, the comfort, the normalcy . It’s a simple, domestic life. One that you’ll never get to experience as royalty. Rex lays a small hand on your elbow, signalling that it’s time to go. You say your final farewells and head out, heart heavy.

“Looks like there won’t be as much rain today, so our journey will be quicker.” You nod, only half listening. Your excitement at re-entering the jungle was non-existent, and it showed. Rex tugs at your arm, urging you to move faster.

Since there is little to no rain, the jungle becomes brighter. More alive. The colors look more vibrant than ever. Even the animals were louder.

“The hanging gardens back home look like the jungle without rain.” Rex turns, his helmet facing you.

“So it was wild and dangerous?” You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Not really. Gardeners tended to it. My people value order and consistency, but we prefer our gardens to be more natural. More… wild, like you said. Full of animals too. The birds, the fish—it was a mini ecosystem.”

“I’d love to see it. One day.” He looks down at the compass given to him by the villagers. “Good. We’re heading in the right direction.”

“Rex?” He hums. “Would you be a Jedi? If you could?” He quiets for a second.

“No. I wouldn’t.” He looks at you and continues on. “It’s a hard life for a Jedi. They can’t be attached, and there’s so much responsibility that comes with their power. And the Jedi I know are also pretty karking stupid,” he laughs.

“Tell me about them. Your Jedi.”

“Well… they’re not my jetii.” You send a pointed look, and he sighs. “Fine. They’re mine because I have to take care of their sorry asses. One time, Skywalker gave me little warning before he and Tano hoisted me into the air. He and Ahsoka landed and barely had enough sense to lighten my fall using the Force. And don’t get me started on his improvisations. Ahsoka is a different matter entirely.” He pauses to help you over a tree root. “She is terrifyingly good at being a Jedi, but she’s also a teenager. So sometimes she’s sulking in a corner for one second and challenging shinies to a fun spar the next. Doesn’t help that she’s usually the only girl on the entire ship and a Togruta—a naturally born hunter.”

You can’t help but laugh. “She’s very confident in what she does,” you say, thinking back to your first, and only, encounter with the girl. “She has the potential to do many great things.”

“I know. But she’s a Jedi by default, and like I said earlier, jetii are too reckless for their own good. They always give commanding officers heart attacks.’’ He brushes some stray branches to the side, hand firmly pressed on your lower back. You’re not going to complain. “I know Cody gets frustrated with General Kenobi for leaving his lightsaber, getting captured, or hell, even flirting with Ventress. But at least Cody’s an actual commander. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be a commander, but Skywalker gives me the same work as Cody even though I never signed up for it.”

“But you like working with them?” Rex tenses for a second.

“Yes. I do. I don’t believe in miracles, but what the Jedi do… have you ever seen a Jedi in action?” You shake your head. “Well it’s amazing. Disregarding those laser swords, they can move stuff with the Force. They can put suggestions in people’s heads. They can jump off buildings without a scratch. It’s like all the stories young clone cadets are told. We all thought it was spacer’s tales, and many clones don’t serve under a Jedi General. They’re the closest thing to magic, and I believe in them. Really do. Come on,” he nudged you forward just a little bit.

You and the captain walk for hours when you start to notice the droids. You don’t know how you didn’t see them before, but droid parts litter the forest floor. The jungle seems to have already claimed the debris, but the dead droid heads send an ominous pang to your chest. There were so many . Definitely enough to wipe out a village.

Rex whistles when you two pass a particular dense area of dead battle droids. “A whole lotta dead clankers.”

“Clankers?”

“Just slang for Seppie droids. We also call them tinnies.”

“Ah, I see.” As more of the droid graveyard reveals itself, the jungle also clears up. No doubt because of the large traffic that warred previously, but also because you were entering the edges of the jungle. Moving towards civilization.

“How about you?” Rex asks. The question throws you off guard, and you almost stagger from the suddenness. But the captain steadies you.

“I beg your pardon?” He takes his hand off your lower back, slowing his pace. The path becomes narrower, the sides sloping down into the jungle floor. Up ahead, you see distant wisps of smoke.

“You ask me all the questions so… it’s my turn. What are the best and worst parts of your culture?” You grip the side of a tree, tightening your hold enough so you can position yourself over a precarious rock.

“As a princess, I’m supposed to be proper, right? So no touching, which includes hugs in public. Even with family members. Also no speaking out of turn, and no criticizing the government or royal family.”

“So as a princess, you can’t even talk bad about yourself?” You sigh.

“Yeah. Ridiculous, right? And I have to wear such heavy clothes, makeup, and jewelry. It sounds vain but that is some of the worst parts in the life of a princess.” It had been a relief to take off your weighted garments when you were in that cave. Rex had asked if you intended to wear them again or carry the clothes with you, especially the jewelry. However, you wanted to leave the clothes behind. Unbeknownst to your captain, you had lugged the jewelry then proceeded to gift it to the villagers.

“I think the best part is the festivals. We have big ones every year full of dancing, music, and entertainment. There are intricate fireworks displays and coordinated performances. It’s hard to explain the feeling of being in such a celebration.” As the path widens again, Rex moves to walk next to you.

“Your planet reminds me of Naboo.” You raise an eyebrow.

“You go to Naboo often?”

You can’t see his face, but you could tell he was grinning. “No, but our General is quite close with Senator Amidala.”

“Ah, so clones also participate in gossip then.” Rex laughs alongside you.

“Well, no clone is exempt, but I admit that high ranking officers gossip. Not that I-”

“It’s alright, Rex. It’s fun to gossip. Senator Amidala and I are good friends. In fact, I take vacations on Naboo every few years.”

“Oh really? Do you- wait.” He steps in front of you and holds an arm out, barring your waist. Rex lets out a curse and pushes you both down, ducking behind a nearby tree. Just as you're hidden from view, you hear a buzz. You peek around the tree to see a flying droid, its red light spinning in circles, scanning for something. Rex holds a finger to his lips.

Once the buzz is gone, Rex stands up, surveying the area for any more disturbances.  “We’re getting close.” Despite the area being clear, he still remains cautious. “Since you’ve been to this planet before, what should I expect when we are near the capital?”

You rise, knees already stiff from your crouch. “There’s some farmland, but not much. My guess is that our path leads straight to the city gates.”

“Any idea on how to get in?”

“Pretend we’re married and seeking refuge?” He shakes his head.

“I’m in full armor. And we didn’t bring the spare clothes.”

“What if we… stole some?” Rex turns his bucket to you and could tell that he’s giving you a blank look.

“Sorry, princess, but the last thing I expected you to suggest was theft .” You snort.

“Come on. We need to get in somehow.” He marches forward instead of answering. “Hey! You could always leave your armor in a safe place, and we can return to it after this is all over.” You’re met with his visor. He was probably giving you a what the fuck look, and you’d laugh if you could see his face.

“There’s only the two of us. In a Seppie capital. This armor is the only thing that’s protecting me. And armor is important for clones,” he mumbles. “I can’t just leave it with no guarantee I’ll get it back.” Oh. It made sense. The first thing you noticed about Rex was his armor. Armor was part of what makes him Rex. The jaig eyes, the welded pieces, the kama.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you-” He sighs.

“It’s ok, princess. Look, we’ll find some way into the city. Maybe weaknesses in the walls or secret passages.” You wrack your brain, trying to remember entrances, maybe hidden routes. You could sneak underneath a cart or find a tunnel...  wait.

“There are canals that lead into the city. We could probably sneak in that way. Possibly end up near or in the palace itself.”

“Sounds perfect. Have you ever been in the canals?” You wince.

“Twice. I was curious the first time and opened a grate that led to the sewer system. The second time, I had to escape assassins sent to kill the ruling family of Theatis 06. I was collateral damage. Apparently, I had wandered so far into the system for a long time, that my private guards found me passed out from exhaustion.” You laugh at the memory, but Rex stills.

“You were almost killed in the crossfire of an assassination attempt?”

“Yes.” He shakes his head, probably still processing. People liked to assume that as a princess, you were sheltered from hardship. Except royalty came with its own set of problems. Like assassinations.

Up ahead, the jungle opens up to a large field surrounding the tall city walls. Rex stops you, scanning the immediate area before crouching behind a tree.

“Well. There’s the capital. And,” he takes out some binoculars—which you didn’t even know he had—scanning the wall, “that looks like a canal entrance.” He hands the device over, and you peer into it, spotting the metal cover.

“Seems like it.” He pockets the binoculars and begins skirting around the trees, toeing the line of the forest. The capital was built like one big circle, so the walls were one big circle as well. If you were to follow the treeline, you’d eventually get to the straightest possible path to the grate. The only thing separating the two of you from the city walls, however, were merchants, villagers, and droids all milling about. The people wait in a line to enter the city, and the droids are… well, being droids. Thankfully, the large field is not farmland but tall grasses. Tall enough to crawl through without being spotted.

When you finally have the sewer entrance directly ahead of you, Rex stops, signalling you to crouch down. He hands you one blaster.

“Just in case,” he says before kneeling down by the edges of the tall grass. He lays flat in an army crawl and motions for you to follow. You do the same, the itchy grass concealing you and your captain.

Of course, Rex crawled with ease. The pattern of elbow-knee-elbow-knee seems drilled into him. His feet move right in front of your head, but he goes at a pace you can’t possibly follow. Probably because you weren’t trained in army crawling. The distance from the edge of the jungle to the canal grate wasn’t astronomical, but it was enough for your arms and back to ache anyway.

“How much farther, Rex,” you whisper tiredly.

“Just a little bit, princess. Come on, it’s easy.”

“I’m not a soldier like you,” you say, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see you.

Rex snorts. “No, you’re not. But if you managed to escape an assassination attempt, then I’m sure you can crawl just a little further.” You open your mouth to retort, but Rex shushes you.

“Up ahead. You remember what to do?”

“Yes, captain.” Rex stops his crawl, and you roll sideways and move up so you’re next to each other. The grate is a few feet away, but there are no grasses to use as cover. You glance around to see that there were enough people to catch you, but it doesn’t seem like they’re going to be looking in your direction anyway.

You pull your body up from the ground, head still bowed to stay below the grasses. Once in a crouching position, you steady yourself. Rex stays silent, but he does pat your calf and hands you a multitool—which, again, you didn’t even know he had. He holds up a hand, and lowers his fingers for each second passed. Three...two...one…

You jump up from your stance and dash forward, not bothering to waste time looking around. Once you reach the grate, you take out the multitool and begin unscrewing the grate open, praying that the multitool had the size you needed. The screws are rusty, but the tool worked.

Voices come from your left, and you mentally curse. They might not have spotted you, yet—the curved wall could hide you for a little bit— but they were definitely approaching. With a speed you didn’t know you had, you manage to open the grate. You crawl inside, hand immediately going to cover your nose from the stench. At the last second, you remember to place the grate back, holding it closed just as a pair of people walk past. Thank the Maker.

After a few seconds of silence, you slide the grate off and give a thumbs up at the grass. You set the cover on the ground outside and inch deeper into the canal. With a burst, Rex comes out of hiding—full white and blue armor shining under the sun— and sprints to the entrance, all but diving into the canal. Once inside, he immediately turns to place the grate back on.

“Should we seal it back? So no one knows how we got in?”

“No,” Rex mutters, “we’ll prop it. Besides, this might be our only way out if things get ugly.” Once Rex leans the grate against the opening, you both continue your journey into the tunnel.

The tunnel isn’t big enough to stand in nor is it small enough to warrant crawling. Instead, you had to settle for a weird crouch-like walk. Rex, with his taller height, seems to be suffering more than you.

“This is where you managed to fall asleep in exhaustion?”

“To be fair, I was running on adrenaline and fear.”

“Those are the usual ingredients for many insane things. I would know.” You both chuckle quietly, the sound tinny and distorted in the tunnel.

“Care to tell me more about said insane things?” He launches into his stories as the two of you forge deeper into the city. At this point, you don’t even know where you are, but it doesn’t really matter. Listening to Rex talk about anything—whether it be his experiences or the weather or even battle tactics— was distracting enough, with or without the helmet.

Eventually, you stop, knowing for a fact that the two of you are well within the city. You also wanted to give the captain some mercy. He’s young but no one is exempt from the back pain that comes with awkward positioning.

With the help of the multitool, you open the grate from inside and push it up and onto the sidewalk. You peek up through the opening to glance around then crouch down again.

“It seems to be a residential street. Not too many people and no droids, but we should still be careful.”

“Are we close enough to a building?” You poke your head up again.

“Yeah. There’s a house close to us that doesn’t have its lights on. We can try to break in and find a way to contact your Jedi.” Rex grunts in agreement and you stand up to full height. Your whole head and upper chest are out of the canal, but the rest of your body remains.

You try hauling yourself with your arms alone, but they’re still sore from your earlier crawl. “Here,” Rex mutters as he grabs your thighs, pushing up. Flustered, you manage to get your whole body onto the street. An old man glances your way but remains unbothered.

By the time you reach the door of the house, Rex had already pulled himself out of the canal and closed the grate. You try—and fail—to lockpick the door, so Rex takes the multitool from you and does it himself. Slightly embarrassed, you keep an eye out for your surroundings instead. No one seems to mind that the two of you were about trespass. In fact, everyone seemed reserved. Quiet. Even fearful. What neither of you notice is the flying probe droid hovering above a building down the street.

As soon as Rex unlocks the door, he ushers the two of you in. You’re met with a simple living room and a small kitchen. Lining the walls are holos of two Twi’lek females in various places—around the city, in a park, even in the jungle. They seem happy, wrapped in each other’s arms. You glance at Rex, who’s searching the unit for a transmitter. Maybe, one day—no, you shouldn’t entertain those thoughts, but-

“Found a transmitter. And two comm links.” Thank the Maker. He tosses you one, and you attach it to your arm. “Let’s see if I can connect to Skywalker’s channel.” He mashes the button, and you hover next to him. You’re met with sounds of static.

“General Skywalker? It’s me, Captain Rex with the princess. General?” Rex shakes the device around. “Kriff, I think the Seppies scrambled all transmissions. I don’t know-”

“Rex?” The unmistakable voice of Ahsoka Tano filters out from the transmitter. “Where are you? We’ll converge on your location.” In the background, you can hear her talking to others, probably Skywalker and the rest of Rex’s men.

“Oh Rex, old boy. Please tell me that you and the princess are safe.” Skywalker says, relief evident.

“We’ve managed. We’ll try to stay hidden for now. Were you able to get our coordinates from the transmission?”

“Yes we did. Stay put and don’t do anything stupid. That’s an order, Rex. We’ll be there shortly.” In your periphery, you spot a dark shape move across the window. And another joins the first. And another…

“Rex…” you whisper.

“General, you know I never make stupid decisions, right?” Skywalker just laughs, but your chest tightens in panic.

“Rex!” His helmet snaps to you and follows your gaze to the window.

“Fuck.”

He hauls you over to the stairs just as a blaster shot breaks the window of the house. You’re both up the second floor and already running down the hallway in search of an escape route as a wave of droids march into the living room.

You push a door open and find a bedroom. “How are we-”

Rex pulls his blaster out and fires at the window on the far side of the room. “Come on.” He grabs your arm and pulls you to his side. He uses his other hand to pull out some device, aims it at the roof of the neighboring building, and a hook attached to a line shoots out. You whimper at the distance, but Rex simply says, “Trust me.”

He jumps out the window, you tucked against him, your hands desperately clinging to his body. The line reels in, and you almost make it to the other side before blaster shots aim your way. You shriek, almost letting go of Rex, but you land on the roof in time.

The captain pulls the transmitter out, but a droid shoots it out his hand. Cursing, he drops the ruined device and withdraws his blaster, wiping out the two droids by the opposite window and the three on the street below.

“Do you want your second blaster back?” He shakes his head.

“You might need it. You should also have this,” he pulls a round object from his belt. A bomb. At your expression, he says, “Just in case. We have a chance to get out of here yet.” He grabs your hand and pulls you alongside him, running across the roof.

“On three, I’ll throw you across.” He positions his hands around you.

“Wait! Can’t you use the same hook thing-” But he’s already counting down, and before you could finish your protest, you’re flung off.

Your arms and legs scramble midair, and you land on the next building with a resounding thud. The pain erupts through your joints, but you don’t have the time to complain because Rex also leaps across, almost sprawling on top of you.

He, however, has more sense to get back up and start shooting at the incoming droids. You heave yourself to your feet, blaster in hand.

“Ever used a blaster?”

“I know how to shoot, but never practiced on moving targets.” He chuckles.

“Well, there’s no time like the present to learn.” The blaster is heavy and cold in your hands. With a huff, you aim at a droid marching towards you. The first shot misses. And so does the second. But your third hits it in the chest, and you have to stop yourself from grinning.

As you take aim at another droid, Rex finishes off the one you had previously shot at.

“Need to aim for the head, princess.” You stick your tongue out.

“I tried my best,” you pout. In the time between your bickering, Rex had cleared the roof of droids, but the unmistakable sound of marching signalled even more.

“Karking hells, did they send a whole battalion of clankers?” Rex sighs and rubs the front of his helmet, right where the blue jaig eyes were. “Well, princess. We need a better plan than run and shoot if we have to face more of these droids.”

“We could hide?”

“Seems a little-” Rex ducks from a blaster bolt then turns to shoot the offending droid, “late to hide.”

“What about-” a loud boom echoes around you, debris and smoke creating a cloud. Distantly, you hear a fuzzy scream. You see Rex reach for you through the smoke, a white and blue hand struggling to grab you. But the world under your feet rushes up to meet you, and you stagger. It’s then that you realize the screaming is coming from you.  

Rex’s helmet fades away as you hurtle backwards, and you explode in pain, everything going dark.

*****

Sounds of blaster fire shake you awake. With a jolt, you sit up, only to find a piece of debris blocking your feet. You manage to pry it off, grunting and cursing the whole time. Being a princess certainly didn’t train you for this situation.

Sounds of static come from your arm. The comm.

“Princess? Are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” You’re met with a sigh of relief.

“Finally. I’ve been comming, but you haven’t responded. Where are you?”

You rub your cheek and look around. You’re in some alley separating two houses. Garbage bins line the walls and more pieces of debris lay scattered. A few feet away from you is the blaster. You must have dropped it in the explosion…

“I don’t know. What happened?” He huffs.

“A droid must have thrown a bomb on the roof, breaking a piece of it off and taking you with it. I was going to jump down and find you, but the-” he pauses, heaving, “there were too many droids, and I didn’t want them to follow you.” Another pause, another sigh. He sounded tired—the fatigue of running and shooting and worrying probably wore him down. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Me too,” you whisper back. Maybe you should tell him now. Tell him that you’re scared and hurt and that you need him. Because you need Rex as much as you want him. It’s wrong, and it would only end in heartbreak but- “Rex, I have something to say.”

“Yes, princess?”

“I think I-”

But your time for confession ends when a probe droid hovers at the end of the alley. Shit. You jump up on your aching legs and reach for the blaster. Your hands shake but manage to hit the droid, hoping to destroy it so it doesn’t alert the others of your presence. Unfortunately, the hit doesn’t stop it from flying off.

Limping to the mouth of the alley, you peek around a wall. Down the street, a battalion of battle droids marches over. The sounds of blaster fire come from your left, and you look up to see Rex jumping from roof to roof annihilating the droids.

His back is turned, and he won’t be able to see the marching formation. If they were to aim at him… he would be defenseless. Sandwiched on two sides.

You grip the blaster. And take aim.

One after another, the first wave of droids fall. For every shot you miss, another blaster bolt manages to pierce through a droid’s head. Your arms are aching from holding the weapon up for too long, and your knees threaten to buckle.

The second wave sees you and starts to take aim. You have enough strength left to dodge them. You dart behind a garbage bin and follow up with your own fire. Once again, they begin to drop. Your shots are sloppy, but you might actually have a chance to destroy them all. Victory is on the tip of your tongue, and you-

Distracted, you don’t notice a bolt hit you. The pain is sharp, biting, and searing . You clutch your side just as another bolt knocks the blaster out of your hand. You crouch low, too hurt, your mind too frayed to think properly.

The only thing you can do is hide, wincing at every bolt that hits the garbage bin. Each step the droids take closer to you, the sooner your end will come. The thought is grim, but at least… if you were to die, it would be in trying to help Rex.

The pain in your side begins to numb, and it evens out the fuzziness in your brain. The sharp edge of the agony, the ache—you peek around the garbage bin briefly and see the grate you and Rex had used just a few minutes prior. Only it felt like years ago.

The droids walk closer, but they don’t take aim at you. No, they shoot upwards . At the roof.

With a cry, you leap out and into the street, making a run for the grate. The droids don’t notice, too preoccupied with shooting your captain. You palm the bomb Rex had given you earlier and turn on your comm.

“Rex? I’m going to bomb the droids.” Muffled grunts come through. You don’t bother looking up, instead working to open the grate with one hand.

“What? It’s too dangerous, you won’t be able to run away in time. Princess, don’t-” The grate is heavy, but you manage to push it off.

“No, Rex. I have to do this. There are way too many droids down here, and they’re all aiming at you. You don’t stand a chance.” Something wet slides down your face and into your eye. You blink it out and watch as it falls on the rusty grate below you. Blood.

“I’m a soldier!” He yells. From your position, you can hear him even without the comm. “I have a duty to protect you, and you have the duty to stay alive. For your people. Don’t do it, princess. For me,” he pleads. You nudge the grate to the side, legs already slipping in. Liquid drips down your cheek, and you wipe it, expecting red. But it comes away clear

“Rex,” you choke out, “it’s too late. I have to do this for you.” You turn off the comm and throw the bomb into the approaching droids. They make confused noises and stop shooting for a second. You take one look at the captain on the roof, still firing. A loud shout of your name reaches your ears, and you whisper a prayer that this all works- Just as you pull the grate over the hole, a large tremor quakes through the ground.

The impact is enough to send you sprawling, an even more concentrated pain covering your body like a blanket. You hear a crack and everything goes fuzzy.

*****

Rex feels numb. The bomb that goes off wipes out the most of the battalion and the fronts of many houses. He finishes off the remaining droids easily just as a fleet from the 501st hover overhead, his vod jumping out to land on the carnage. Commander Tano follows right behind, and she steps on the roof where Rex stands.

“Anakin’s taking over the palace. We’ll drive off these Separatists in no time.” She punches his shoulder lightly. “Rex?” He just shakes his head. “What’s wrong? Where’s the princess?” He can’t stop the choked sob that escapes him.

Maker, he’s so angry . At you for being reckless, at himself for being too incompetent to save the person he cared—no, the person he was assigned to protect. If he told you to wait ten more seconds, the 501st would have landed and wiped out the droids. If he had been next you, you would have cleared them out together. If he had- if he had found you first then maybe-

Ahsoka tugs off his helmet and staggers backwards as Rex buries his face into her shoulder. A voice in his head scolds himself at the impropriety, but he doesn’t listen.

“Oh, Rex,” Ahsoka whispers, patting his back. He tries. He tries so hard to stop, but the sobs keep coming. He’s a soldier—he’s accustomed to death; he’s seen many beloved brothers die in his arms, heard the screams of civilians he couldn’t save— but you… you shouldn’t have died. It wasn’t your time. And it was his fault.

“Echo, scan the area for any civilians. Kix, check up on Rex.” Ahsoka orders. Before she tugs away, she holds Rex’s face in her palms. “Stay strong, captain.” She presses her forehead against his and heads off to deal with the aftermath.

“Come here. What did you do to yourself, vod ?” Kix mutters, sounding disappointed. It’s only when Kix starts to treat his immediate wounds that Rex begins to feel them. The sting on his forehead, his cheeks, even his hands feel better than the ache in his chest.

“Where is the princess, captain? She’s kinda a big part of this mission.” Kix’s methodical hands are rough but not as callous as Rex’s or even Hardcase’s. Like the princess. Well, her hands were nowhere near as rough, but they were soft and elegant in the same way Kix’s are. Maker, she was soft in many places, but she wasnt fragile. There were hard edges to her, physically and mentally. She had the iron resolve to help others, even if they weren’t her own people. Even if they were some random clone- Rex shakes himself out of his daze to find Kix waiting for an answer.

“Don’t know. She threw that bomb and then… well, she was injured, so-” Rex knows he’s mumbling and he should speak clearer, but if he talks louder then his fears might be confirmed.

“You don’t think she made it. Kriff, I’m sorry. We’ll have to tell her handmaidens and private guards. They’re already up at the palace with the general.” He shouldn’t get angry at his own brother, but the lack of sympathy in his voice—well, Kix did sound sympathetic but it was the same tone used for every other dead person, not someone special like the princess— made Rex grit his teeth.

Before he could reply, Echo’s shocked yell of “Captain!” followed by Ahsoka’s “Rex, you better get down here!” already forced Kix to haul Rex up.

“Are you good to walk?” Rex nods. Most of his injuries were easy to deal with anyway. Kix guides Rex down from the roof and into the unit below. They’re met with a quivering family of five talking to one of the 501st. They must have been terrified to hear the shootout he had upstairs. If you were here, you would have comforted them. Maybe played with the children-

As he exits the house, he finds you laid out on a stretcher next to the sewer grate. Immediately, Kix leaves his side to examine you and- kriff, you look so lifeless. And broken. That was not the princess he knew and lo- cared for. The blood on your face trickles in steady rivulets. Your singed dress is enough evidence that you got shot at least once.

He’s about to turn away—knowing that he can’t look or else he’ll break down again—until Kix speaks.

“She’s still alive, captain.” Well yeah no one could have survived that- wait, what? You were still alive? Already, he’s pushing aside the brothers in his way to stand next to you. He grips your hand, and it’s warm. It’s warm and soft and you’re still alive .

The grief that had been eating at his chest collapses, leaving a gaping hole in its absence. In its place, a surmounting wave of joy and warmth and relief washes through him.

“She might have gotten a concussion from the impact of the explosion. The blaster bolt didn’t hit anything serious, so that’s good. Some big bruises, probably torn muscles, quite a lot of scratches. Other than that, she’s fine.” Ahsoka, already by his side, places a hand on his shoulder.

“The princess is a strong one, Rex. A survivor. She’ll make it.” He’s forced to let go of your hand as Kix wheels you away. For now, he has to go back to being Rex the Captain and do his duty at the palace alongside his general. And later, when everything is dealt with and the Separatists are driven out, he’ll allow himself to visit you. Just one visit to say goodbye then the both of you will go your own ways. You’ll still be a princess and he’ll continue to be a soldier.

*****

The world comes back in small pieces. First, you feel the dull ache in your muscles and the dryness in your throat. Then the quiet sounds of med droids working and occasional distant chatter. The room is on the colder side, but not enough to warrant a blanket. You twitch your fingers and move your toes, relieved to find that everything seems to work. You wrack your brain to think of how you could possibly have ended up here. The last thing you remember was the droids, the bomb in your hand, the explosion-

You gasp and sit upright, eyes opening. The room is blurry around you, but you adjust and— Rex is standing off to the side. He rushes over, urging you to lay back down. Only it’s not Rex. Where Rex had blond, this man had a worded tattoo curling around his skull, his hair buzzed into patterns.

“Relax, princess. I’m Kix: medic of the 501st. I’m in charge of your care.” Oh. You try to speak but your throat is too dry. Kix hands you a glass of water, which you gulp greedily.

“Thank you, Kix. How- where is the Captain?” The medic gives you a strange look before replying.

“He’s still in a briefing with General Skywalker and Commander Tano. They’ll be done soon. Do you want me to send him over, princess?” It would be nice to see him, but… what if he was too busy? He probably had a lot of things to do, and his mission to protect you was over.

“I-it’s alright.” Kix sends you another face. “N-not that I don’t want to see him or anything. Just that I don’t want to be a bother, you know-” The medic holds a hand up.

“I get it. After the meeting, he’ll be free for a while, so expect him to come. I’m sure he would love to see you.”

“What do you m-mean by that-” The medic gives you a blank stare.

“Your handmaidens and private guards are waiting outside. Should I let them in?” Miffed at his redirection, you nod, and the medic steps away to open the door. One by one, your entourage filters in, concern coming through in droves.

None of them move to give you a hug or any touches. Instead, they assemble themselves in a semicircle around the bed.

“Princess, we were so worried about you.”

“We’re glad to see you safe, your highness.”

“How are your injuries, princess?”

“Princess, what happened to your clothes and jewelry?” Their voices are hushed and sincere, but the onslaught only gives you a headache. Kix notices your discomfort and motions for the handmaidens to step back.

“I’m alright, girls. No major injuries I think.” The handmaidens turn to Kix for confirmation, and he sighs.

“We dealt with her bigger issues first. With enough rest, she’ll recover to perfect health.” Satisfied, the girls look back to you.

“As for my clothing,” you contemplate lying, but what good would that do? “I couldn’t wear my clothes and jewelry in the jungle because of the heat. So I left the clothes behind and gifted the jewelry to a friendly village.” You’re met with scandalized looks, and the handmaidens glance at each other.

“Girls, the rules change in emergencies. If I had stuck to protocol, I would probably be dead.” The mention of your demise sobers them up, and they relax from their hovering position. “But I am tired and need to rest as Kix said.” The girls nod in unison and say their goodbyes, followed by the guards.

Once you and the medic are alone, you finally slump from the regal position you had forced yourself to maintain.

“Are they always so… smothering?” You try to laugh, but the ache in your side pinches hard enough for you to stop.

“It’s their job to worry over me. Like how you probably worry for your brothers.” Kix turns to you, surprised.

“Yeah. I do worry for my brothers because they’re idiots and get themselves hurt.” He sighs and pulls a chair next to your bed. “I love my brothers more than anything. This might not be my place to ask, but… what are your intentions with my captain?”  

“I… I don’t know.” He raises an eyebrow. “I never wished for harm to come to Re- the captain. I feel guilty that he was placed in the sole position to protect me, but I know that’s not my fault. It was a difficult journey, but-”

“Sorry to interrupt, but that’s not what I asked. What do you want to do with my vod ? Because I saw the way he acted when he thought you died. And I saw how he acted when he realized you lived.” He looks at you accusingly.

“What?” You hold your breath.

“Princess… we’re used to seeing people die. It’s part of the job description. But Rex broke down crying when he thought you died. He never does that. And it’s not like you’re best friends. You met three days ago. So tell me, princess, what do you want to do with my brother?” Kix continues staring. His eyes are identical to Rex’s, but also different. Kix— like all his brothers—holds himself differently from everyone else.

You don’t really know how to answer his question. Well you do, but you know you shouldn’t tell him the truth because it will only open a can of worms. But something in Kix's face, in his determination, forces you to speak.

“I think I’m in love with your brother.” You breathe out. Kix, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye at your confession. Instead, he grins.

“I knew it. He could definitely use a girlfriend. Not sure how he’d be able to see you often because you are a princess and he’s busy enough as a captain but-”

“You aren’t mad?” Your head is light and fuzzy, and the world seems to both crash and freeze around you, but Kix has the audacity to joke around?

“Relax, princess. As long as you’re not leading my brother on or anything, I fully support it. Look, Rex has had to deal with a lot of shit. Having you in his life would do wonders for his health. And emotional state. I say this as a medic who’s-”

“Licensed to help with mental issues?” You say, smiling.

“Well, no, I never got trained for that, but it doesn’t matter.” He chuckles. A knock comes from the door, and he goes to open it.

On the other side, Rex stands, hands folded behind his back. Jaig eyes facing you.

“I’ll leave the two of you alone.” Kix sends you a small smile and claps his brother on the back before exiting. Rex steps forward, closing the door behind him.

The silence stifles the air, and you struggle to speak.

“I got you some flowers.” Rex pulls his hands from his back to reveal a small bouquet. It’s cute in a messy, childish way. “I picked some random flowers from the palace gardens. Sorry if they aren’t-”

You tug him forward, burying your face into his hard chest plate. Startled, the captain lays the flowers on the chair Kix had vacated.

“I love it.” You reach up, hands on either side of his helmet. After a gentle nod, you tug it off and set it aside. Bandages cover Rex’s face, and bruises decorate his cheeks. A split runs down his lips. Your finger brushes the wound before you realize that you’re moving. You both tense when you make contact, and you retract your finger.

“Rex, I want you to know that I-”

“This is the last time we should-”

You both stare at each other. He clears his throat. “You should go first.”

“No, you go.”

“Princess-”

“Why did you say ‘last time’? What’s that supposed to mean,” you whisper.

“This,” he gestures between the two of you, “can’t continue. I’m a captain, you’re a princess. This won’t end well for either of us, and it’s probably illegal. It would be easier to part ways.” He doesn’t look at you.

“Is that what you want? To never see each other again?” Your chest tightens.

“We have responsibilities. It’s a hard decision, but it must be done.”

“No, I won’t do it,” you choke out. “You know what wasn’t a hard decision? Throwing that bomb to kill off the droids before they reached you. That was easy to decide because I care for you.”

“That was a stupid decision, and you know it. If I had contacted Skywalker sooner or found you faster, you wouldn’t have gotten shot. I thought you died,” he says, voice cracking.

“It’s not your fault. I probably should have waited, but I didn’t have a choice. And besides, I’m alive, right?” He pulls away, face scrunching up.

“But what if you died, huh? What would happen to your people? To your family? To me? Kriffing hell, princess, I don’t know what I would have done if you really had passed on. How can I function as a soldier if I can’t cope with the grief of losing you?” He turns away, but you notice a stray tear slide down his face.

You brush it off without hesitation. “I understand that you’re worried about me. But I don’t want what-ifs to end what we have. Would you let hypothetical scenarios rule your life?”

Rex sighs. “The Jedi were right about attachments. About how they could destroy people.” He turns to you and gently takes your face in his hands. “But I’m not a Jedi.” And he leans in.

His lips are rough and chapped but deliciously soft. He slots perfectly against you, his breath equal parts inviting and destabilizing. You tighten your arms around him, body curling towards his. The space in your chest fills with something warm and heavy and full. His lips move slowly, taking the time to savor you. It’s a drawn out kiss, clumsy and awkward, but intoxicating nonetheless. Even the clinking of your teeth doesn’t stop either of you. But Rex pulls away quicker than you’d like, and you pout.

“Don’t be sad. There’s more where that came from.” You share matching grins.

“So does that mean you’re going to try?” His lips brush over yours, his warm breath mixing with your own.

He whispers your name with an air of reverence and says, “Yeah. We’ll make this work.” And he tugs you closer, capturing your lips once again.

[jadejedi]

Love Does Not Fail (1/?)

Summary: When Anakin saves the galaxy from Palpatine, Padmé and his children survive, but their family is split apart nonetheless. Leia is taken to be raised in the Temple, not knowing that the Jedi who "found" her is actually her father. Luke grows up with Padmé, knowing only his mother's side of the family. But some things are inevitable.

ao3 link here

A/N: Another RotS fix-it fic slash what if Anakin and Padmé each raise a twin fic. Basically, things happen a little differently post Crisis at the Heart. This chapter is basically a prologue, so we are going to move with LIGHTNING SPEED through RotS. The focus of this story is what comes after RotS, rather than a scene-by-scene rewrite of the movie. Also, I am a little hesitant to put this out before s7 of The Clone Wars airs, but eh whatever. If it fits in, great, if not, oh well. 

Padmé was silent on the jump back to Coruscant. 

Anakin wasn’t sure if it was grief for the loss of Clovis, or if it was lingering anger over his actions throughout this whole ordeal. He had been right about Clovis being a traitorous piece of Separatist scum, but he had a feeling that that wasn’t much comfort to Padmé right now. 

For the first couple of hours of the trip back, he had been content to pretend to meditate while he let her sit silently in his bunk on The Resolute, wordlessly scrolling through her datapad, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on like this. 

“Padmé,” he began hesitantly, moving to crouch next to the bunk. “I am sorry about what happened to Clovis. I am sorry for my part in all of this.” 

She looked up from her data pad, a tired look in her eyes. “Anakin, what has happened to us?” She set the data pad down and looked at her hands. “Our relationship isn’t what it once was.”

Anakin felt his heart ache. “Do you still want us to… take a break?” he asked, recalling her words on Coruscant. 

She shook her head helplessly. “Anakin, I love you. I don’t want to be apart from you. But I also want things that can’t be. I want our relationship to be better than it is now.”

Anakin reached out to grasp her hands. “It can be better. I can be better!” He couldn’t lose her. This whole mess had started because he hadn’t wanted to lose her, and now he might anyways.

Padmé smiled sadly at him. “It might not be up to us. This relationship will always be a secret. How can either of us be expected to operate normally, or in any way that could be considered healthy, in such conditions?”

Anakin let out a frustrated huff. “So what? You’re just going to throw this away? Pretend it never happened?”

“No! That’s not what I want.” She sighed. “Anakin, I worry about how healthy his relationship is for you. You feel things so strongly, including your feelings for me. And I love that about you. But you have no outlet for those feelings, except for me. And when you and I are at odds, you have no one to turn to. You end up just bottling up those emotions until they explode out of you like they did at home.”

Anakin looked down at their joined hands. “I could tell Obi-Wan,” he offered. 

“What?” Padmé said in surprise. 

“I…think he may have an idea that something is going on between us,” he admitted, looking up at her. “And I think he would understand, at least a little.” He paused and looked back down. “I haven’t told him before because,” he sighed. “Because I don’t want him to see me as a failure. As a bad Jedi.”

Padmé withdrew one of her hands from his so she could cup his cheek. “Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan loves you. I know the Jedi aren’t supposed to feel such things, and I know you think that Obi-Wan is above all that, but he isn’t. It is the nature of sentient beings to love. There is no stopping it.”

“You think so?”

Padmé nodded. “I know the Jedi say that attachment is dangerous, but I think that they don’t realize how much strength that love, healthy love, can give a person. I think attachment only becomes dangerous when it becomes an obsession.” She gently tilted his head so he was looking her in the eye. “Anakin, I don’t want our love to become an obsession.”

Anakin leaned into the hand that was touching his cheek. “I don’t want that either. I think you’re right. I need to be able to talk to someone about all of this.” 

She smiled encouragingly at him. “I’m glad, Ani.”

Hearing her use his nickname soothed some of the worry he felt that had been eating away at his gut. They would be okay, he could feel it. 

There was always the possibility that Obi-Wan would rat on him to the Council, but he didn’t think so. And even if he did, his future with Padmé was worth more to him than his future with the Jedi. 

--

“Anakin,” scolded Obi-Wan, “I can feel your anxiety from here,” he said, meditating in one of the Temple’s small meditation rooms.

 Anakin was seated next to him, ostensibly meditating himself. In reality, though, he was too keyed up to meditate. He and Padmé had gotten back from Scipio almost a week ago, and he still hadn’t confessed. His anxiety over the subject was a nexu chewing at his insides. 

When Anakin didn’t reply, Obi-Wan sighed and looked over at him. “What’s going on, Anakin? You know you can talk to me.”

Did he know that? 

Yes, he supposed he did.

“Master,” Anakin began, “I have something to confess to you.”

Obi-Wan looked at him in concern but said nothing, and let him speak.

Anakin paused, then sighed. “I am telling you this because I have no one else to talk to, and it is causing me a great deal of stress.” He paused again. “Please don’t tell the Council.” 

He paused again, before blurting, “I’m married to Padmé!”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in surprise, only for a moment, before his expression settled onto one of understanding.

Anakin shot him a hesitant smile. “You knew, didn’t you?

Obi-Wan leaned back where he sat, palms behind him on the ground for support. “I knew you were in a relationship with the Senator, of course. At first, I think I just thought that you wanted to be. But I eventually realized, yes.” He grinned wryly. “I wouldn’t have guessed that you were actually married, though.” 

“You aren’t going to tell the Council?” Anakin asked, just to be sure.

“I am on the Council, Anakin. I don’t see why the whole Council needs to know,” he said with a sly grin. His expression turned serious. “And it’s not like I can’t empathize. I know that you know about some of my history with Satine, but I never really told you all of it.”

“All of it?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes looked sad in a way that had become frighteningly common for him these days. “I loved her. By the end of my time guarding her we were… involved. If she had asked me to leave the Order, I would have,” he admitted.

Anakin felt his own eyes widen. “You? Leave the Order?”

He nodded. “Like I said, we were in love. She didn’t want me to leave for her, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “I didn’t realize how much she meant to you.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “We aren’t talking about me right now. Why are you telling me this now? Is something wrong?”

Ankin sighed and told him about what had happened between him and Padmé and Clovis. 

When he got through the whole story, Obi-Wan grimaced. “You really do have a way of finding trouble in every situation, don’t you?”

“Is that all you have to say?!” Anakin exclaimed, a bit of frustration slipping through. 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. You have managed to get into a difficult situation, though.”

Anakin looked down at his hands. “I didn’t want to lose her,” he admitted. “I am always so scared of losing her. She is everything to me.”

“Have you considered that your efforts thus far to “keep” her are what is pushing her away?”

And there it was. His worst fear. That his own desire to save Padmé, to save their relationship would be what tore them apart. 

“What do I do?” he asked quietly. 

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “I think your apology was a good first step. And talking to me was the right thing to do. I want to help you, Anakin. You may not be a conventional Jedi, but you are a great one; your relationship with Padmé hasn’t hindered you so far.”

Anakin felt himself smile a bit at his former master’s praise. 

Obi-Wan continued, “To me, the Jedi’s rules on attachment aren’t so much about any supposed danger that love and attachment carry, but about our responsibility to the Republic and the galaxy as a whole. The worry is that if you are attached to one person or one family, you won’t be able to serve the entire galaxy. And maybe that is true. But I have begun to think that it is possible that we need that attachment anyways. Maybe it makes us lesser Jedi, but it makes us better people.”

--

Things changed slowly for Anakin after that conversation with Obi-Wan, but they did change. 

He felt lighter, not having to hide that secret from his best friend. Knowing that Obi-Wan did not think any less of him. 

He and Padmé invited Obi-Wan over for dinner one night. It was a little awkward, at first, but eventually they all relaxed and Obi-Wan regaled Padmé with stories from Anakin’s apprenticeship. 

Anakin knew he and Padmé’s relationship would never be fully “normal”, but he was glad to be able to provide her with a little bit of that. 

Their relationship righted itself, as much as it could in the span of a couple of weeks. He still worried, about losing her, about the war. But he knew that she loved him, and wanted to be with him. And it helped, knowing that Obi-Wan was behind them. 

It wasn’t long before Obi-Wan and Anakin were deployed again to the Outer Rim. Anakin didn’t have to ask Rex to cover for him to Obi-Wan anymore. When Anakin started to feel the separation from Padmé, he was able to talk to Obi-Wan. 

It was about the longest they’d ever been separated, gone for three months without seeing each other. It wasn’t long before Anakin was driving Obi-Wan fully crazy with his pining for his wife. 

While they were deployed, Anakin felt like he was on the best terms with his former master than he’d been for a long time, maybe ever. Once that one secret had been told, it was like an avalanche had been released. He told Obi-Wan about his mother’s death on Tatooine, about what he’d done to the Tuskens, about everything.

Obi-Wan had been more than concerned, of course. That involved an even longer discussion than when Anakin had told him about his marriage. There had been a lot of meditation involved. And talking. And more meditating. Eventually, Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, and looking him in the eyes said, “Those mistakes, Anakin, were in the past. I fully believe that you have grown past them, and that you understand not just the horror and gravity of your actions, but are no longer the kind of person who would do something like that again.”

And when he said that, Anakin believed him. Not just that Obi-Wan could forgive him and not see him as any less, but over the course of the Sieges, Anakin also came to believe what Obi-Wan said about him. He wasn’t that person anymore. That anger, that resentment and fear that he had so long held in his heart began to melt away as he continued to confide in Padmé and in Obi-Wan. 

And when they got back to Coruscant, and Padmé told him that she was pregnant, he told Obi-Wan the next day. When he had nightmares about her death, all three of them sat down and talked about how serious it might be, and what they could do. 

Padmé was looked over by a Jedi healer (a friend of Obi-Wan’s who was more interested in healing than in spreading secrets), and, to her chagrin, followed around by a very chipper medical droid called AZ-7. Everyone they talked to said she was healthy. But, his nightmares persisted.

--

When the moment came, Anakin was at peace with himself. Well, maybe not entirely. He still didn’t think that the Council trusted him, but Obi-Wan did. And he still had nightmares. But he didn’t want to let them get to him. 

When Palpatine told him that he could show him how to save Padmé from certain death, things clicked into place for Anakin.

“It’s you,” Anakin said, circling the Chancellor, lightsaber drawn. “You are the one giving me those nightmares.” He paused, and looked at Palpatine in horror. “You’ve been manipulating me this whole time!” He growled. “Since I was a boy!”

“No! It’s the Jedi, the Council that’s been manipulating you, Anakin! Your master, he doesn’t trust you. The Council doesn’t trust you! They fear your powers!”

“I’m not going to listen to you,” Anakin snarled.

Palpatine turned away. “Are you going to kill me?”

Anakin paused. Was he? On one hand, it would be treason, wouldn’t it? Did two opposite acts of treason cancel eachother out? On the other hand, he thought back to the discussions that he’d had with Obi-Wan, with Padmé, about the state of the Republic. The Chancellor’s executive powers. The feeling that all the Jedi had had recently, that there was something going on behind this war that they didn’t understand. 

“I would like to,” he admitted. 

“I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus,” Palpatine said. He turned back around to face Anakin. “Give into the darkside, Anakin. Know its power. It will make you stronger than any Jedi.”

Anakin thought of Padmé and the twins they’d found out she was carrying. He didn’t want to be stronger. He just wanted them. 

“I am going to turn you over to the Jedi Council,” he told Palpatine.

His expression did not change. “Of course. You should. But you’re not sure of their intentions.”

“I’m not sure of your intentions, either.” Anakin shot back. He pointed his lightsaber towards the Chancellor’s desk. “Sit there. I am going to comm the Temple, and I am not letting you out of my sight.”

He directed Palpatine into the chair at the desk, and then, holding his lightsaber to Palpatine’s throat, used the comm on the desk to contact Master Windu.

Mace Windu’s form appeared, blue and shimmering. “Skywalker, what’s wrong? Obi-Wan has destroyed Grievous. We are on our way to the Senate Offices to make sure the Chancellor turns over his emergency powers.”

“I am with him now,” Anakin said grimly. “And he won’t turn over his powers. He is the Sith we have been looking for. I am holding him here until you can arrive as back-up.” Anakin glanced over to Palpatine, who was not looking at Master Windu’s holographic form, rather he was calmly staring straight ahead, hands folded on the desk in front of him.

“A Sith?” Mace Windu said in surprise. “Okay, Skywalker. Stay there,” he commanded emphatically. “I will gather some Council Members.”

“And the Senate,” Anakin interjected. “They need to know what is happening. That he is a traitor. He was working with Dooku!” he exclaimed, suddenly realizing that it must be true.

Mace nodded grimly. “You’re right. I’ll keep them informed. If he tries something, you have my permission to use whatever force you deem necessary.” With that, the call ended. 

“Do you really think the Jedi will be content to just hand power back over to the Senate?” Palpatine sneered. “You know that they are power hungry. You have witnessed their corruption! They will want me dead.”

“Because you are a Sith! You have betrayed the Republic, Chancellor. You have betrayed the whole galaxy! You have manipulated all of us into this war!”

Palpatine shook his head delicately, aware of Anakin’s thrumming lightsaber inches from his neck. “It was unfortunate, yes, that so many had to die. But now that I am in power, now that I control the Republic and the Separatists, the bureaucracy that you so hate will be gone. I can end slavery on Tatooine with a word. I can put the war criminals behind bars without waiting months for a trial and endless deliberation. Isn’t that what you want?” 

Anakin looked out the window towards 500 Republica. It was. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? 

He thought of his mother. She could have been saved with a single order. She could have left Tatooine. 

He thought of the horrors of the war. The Twi’leks, the Lurmen, the Togruta of Kiros, the Mandalorians, and all the worlds that had had atrocities committed against them. 

He thought of Padmé. While he had fought for the Republic on the fronts, she had fought for democracy in the Senate. 

“Not like this.”

Palpatine made a face of disgust. “You are weaker than I thought. When I first met you, I sensed the power within you. I knew the Jedi would waste your potential. You would be my apprentice, and I would rule the galaxy with you by my side. 

“But I was wrong,” he hissed, standing up, ignoring Anakin’s lightsaber. “You are weak! Your love for your wife makes you weak,” he said, all but spitting the phrase ‘your wife’. “Your commitment to Kenobi makes you weak. And your commitment to the Council, to the Republic makes you a fool!” he spat, extending his arms, shoving Anakin away with the Force.

Anakin slammed back against the wall on the other side of the room. 

Two lightsaber hilts appeared in Palpatine’s hands, summoned from the sleeves of his robes. Two blood red blades thrummed to life.

Anakin jumped up, lightsaber at the ready, as Palpatine leapt through the air toward him, snarling. 

Anakin brought up his lightsaber to redirect one of the red blades while he spun away from the range of the other. Palpatine slashed. Each slash, each jab, each attack came at Anakin stronger and quicker than he’d imagined. 

As they fought, Anakin felt the tendrils of anger on the edges of his consciousness.

Palpatine had him in a corner. He jabbed. Anakin jumped up and flipped over the lightsabers, over him.

Not just the anger he’d felt when Palpatine had revealed his betrayal. But the anger he’d felt when he’d slaughtered the Tuskens. When he’d attacked Clovis.

Their lightsabers clashed over and over again in a whirlwind of red and blue. The strength and offensiveness of Anakin’s Djem So countering Palpatine’s angry and chaotic Juyo. 

Everything about this war had been a lie. Everything he’d done in this war, everything he’d sacrificed… 

Anakin saw an opening. Before he could take it, blue lightning shot from Palpatine’s fingertips, flowing into Anakin’s chest. He was once again knocked off his feet and into the desk.

The air smelled of burnt cloth and flesh

He growled in frustration. This fight was going on too long.

Palpatine cackled as he rose up from the ground. “Yes, Anakin! Give in to your anger! Give into hate! Only then can you defeat me!”

He charged at Palpatine, who treated his attacks like mere inconvenience. 

Anakin could feel the anger that had long ago taken root in his heart. It wasn’t giving him strength. It was a leech. But he could not remove it, or ignore it. But he would not give into it.

He parried every attack Palpatine threw at him, countering every one with a blow of his own. 

With a thrum-hiss, suddenly Anakin wasn’t alone. Masters Windu, Fisto, Tiin, and Kolar were with him, surrounding the Chancellor. 

“It’s over, Chancellor,” Master Windu declared. “You’ve lost.”

Palpatine snarled, and a wave of Force energy rolled off of him, knocking all of them, including Anakin, off of their feet. 

Windu and Fisto were the first back on their feet, each catching one of Palpatine’s blades on one of their own.

 Anakin was just about done with being thrown across the damn room. He jumped up, and attacked Palpatine from behind, only to be met with more lightning as Palpatine swung around.

 He was ready for it this time. He caught it on his blade, deflecting it back at him. At the same time, Master Windu disarmed him of one blade, while Master Fisto disarmed him of the other. The deflected lightning caught Palpatine in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Palpatine looked at Anakin. He snarled, “They will never let you have your wife. They will never-”

 With one smooth motion, Windu drove his lightsaber through his heart. 

Anakin stumbled back, both from shock and exhaustion. He deactivated his lightsaber and the others did the same. 

“You should have taken him prisoner,” Anakin said. “This will not look good to the Senate.”

“How it looks to the Senate is the least of our worries,” Master Fisto said mildly.

Master Windu shook his head. “Skywalker has a point. It won’t look good.” He looked Anakin in the eye. “But I had to do it. He was too dangerous to  be left alive. We don’t have the resources to contain that kind of power.” 

Anakin nodded. He knew that he was right. 

“You have done well here, Skywalker,” Master Windu admitted. “But you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Sooooo, like I said, LIGHTNING SPEED. I kind of rushed how much Anakin’s mindset changed in these months, but I might explore that later in one-shots, or if you want to discuss it, leave a comment!! I have a lot of thoughts about it, but at the same time, that’s not what this story is about; it’s about Anakin and Padmé raising Luke and Leia. I just had to get past this prologue lol. BUT, I will say that I am FAR from done dealing with Anakin’s issues. I kinda hand-waved a lot of it away for the purposes of getting through the events of RotS, but I will definitely be circling back.

[romancingromanoff]

What Happens At Disney Part 3/3

I know that all of the details aren’t completely accurate to the parks but please enjoy the final installment

Part 1 here//Part 2 here

The Disney workers were so glad that Tony and Bruce fixed the ride that they gave you all free fast passes and you got to skip the line. “You are all welcome. You’re welcome!” Tony was waving and loudly calling out to the crowds. You rolled your eyes at how he always felt the need to fuel his ego but decided against giving him another one of your talks since he had indeed fixed the ride.

The Seven Dwarfs Mine Train was a two person seater ride so naturally you pulled Nat up to the very front to sit next to you. Steve and Clint sat behind you followed by Bruce and Thor, who was very adamant about not letting the workers touch him when they went to pull down the safety bars. Tony got pushed to the back because, truthfully, no one wanted to sit next to him because he wouldn’t shut up about the fact that he had repaired the ride and everyone apparently “owed him,” but he just took it as an opportunity to fill up the entire car by himself. As you were all getting on they called to see if there were any single riders that could sit next to Tony, to which he protested saying that he could sue anyone that accidentally touched his suit, but changed his mind when the first single rider that raised their hand to volunteer turned out to be a very tall, slim, and tan blonde woman wearing super tight booty shorts and a thread of fabric around her chest that you guessed was supposed to be her shirt. “I’ll allow it,” he stated and the bubbly blonde giggled as she sat down and Tony put his arm around her shoulder.

It was a kid’s ride so there weren’t exactly drops big enough to make those butterflies in your stomach fly around at that zero-gravity-like feeling, but you still smiled and laughed as the carts twisted and turned up and down the little hills. Soon you rode into a cave filled with glowing gems and those weird animatronic animals that probably hadn’t been updated since Steve’s time. You all began to slow down as the various forest animals and dwarfs came to life with the music. The creepy glowing eyes of the deer weren’t easy to look over though. Nat made a sour face seeing how robotic they all moved, but you were having an absolute blast. 

CLINK! A high pitched ring sounded throughout the cave, echoing off of the walls. It made the poor blonde girl that got put next to Tony almost jump out of her seat. If it weren’t for the safety bars she probably would’ve gone off the side. 

“WHAT THE HELL, THOR?!” you screamed at him when you turned around and saw him smashing his hammer into the fake gems and diamonds that were encrusted into the walls.

“You said this was a mine! I’m just trying to get points any way that I can!” he retorted while Bruce had his hands in his head from the headache all of the noise was giving him. 

“No, this isn’t that kind of ride, Thor. It is not interactive,” he looked disappointed as you explained it to him and he was silent for the rest of the ride, which was pretty uneventful (meaning that no more property was damaged) except for Clint teasing Steve with questions about what it was like to watch the movie when it first premiered.

After the ride you thought that it would be fun to go visit attractions that the rest of your friends would be interested in. For Clint you headed over to the Toy Story Midway Mania interactive ride where you got spun around a giant toy room and got to shoot various targets and plates. You knew that you were no match for his marksmanship skills, but had fun with the target practice anyway. It wasn’t hard to enjoy yourself when Clint was so into it. He was screaming at Woody, Buzz, and Jessie as they were trying to explain how to work the shooters. “Let us shoot already, damnit!” he yelled in frustration before going on to break all of the high scores.

Steve’s request for a ride was very simple and sweet, much like the person he was. The only thing he really wanted to do at Disney was go on the carousel so you headed back to the Magic Kingdom. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the other rides, but back in his time the only rollercoasters he got to ride were at Coney Island and were all made out of wood. He just didn’t really understand the concept of interactive rides or super scary thrill ones either. At the carousel you were glad to wind down the pace a little bit and go old school as you all got on your own horses and the ride stirred on with the classic amusement park music.

You had also snuck a bag of popcorn on with you and were going back and forth between throwing pieces up in the air at Thor, Steve, and Clint who tried to catch them in their mouths. It was a little difficult since you were all constantly moving up and down and at different levels, but in the end Clint ended up catching the most. 

“Well gentlemen, it has been a pleasure,” he said upon the conclusion of the ride.

“Barton, you are lucky that most of the pieces simply ended up caught in my hair rather than my mouth,” Thor commented as he was picking those same pieces off from his head. “But on any other occasion, I would have bested you.”

“Sure, buddy,” Clint laughed.

You and Nat gave each other a meaningful look and you both laughed at how annoying the boys were being. “You know, I could make this thing go ten times faster if you just give me five minutes with it,” Tony pestered one of the workers trying to get him to let him touch the controls. 

“Tony, please, not again,” Bruce moaned and pulled at his sleeve trying to get him away from the obviously intimidated cast members. 

“C’mon! I could make it go in reverse too! At least let me change the lights and the music. It could be disco themed! Bruce, I know you love disco.”

“No disco, Tony.”

“YOU CAN’T KILL DISCO!”

“You already tricked out one ride which is enough for today, Handy Manny,” you kill his hopes of messing with anything else right then and there.

“IN THE NAME OF DISCO-”

“TONY, SHE SAID NO!”

“Hey, settle down,” Steve hushed the two squabbling scientist. “There’s a show going on.” In front of the carousel entrance where a fairly large but somewhat unnoticeable rock laid with what appeared to be the handle of a sword sticking out of it, a cast member in purple robes and a giant gray beard was twirling around and gathering all of the little children around him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, which one of you thinks that they are worthy enough to pull this sword out of its stone?” A little boy around the age of 6 wearing a Toy Story cap that looked like Rex the green dinosaur was just about to wrap his hands around the handle when he was suddenly pushed out of the way.

“I am worthy! I AM WORTHY!” Thor yelled which made a couple of babies in strollers automatically start crying. “Hah. Mortals watch and see how a god wields his weapon!”

“Dear Lord, not again,” Nat groaned.

“Hmmmmpffffff!” Thor began pulling but to no avail. “NO, I AM WORTHY,” he told himself and then tried shifting the sword back and forth to shimmy out. 

“NO DON’T DO-” the wizard flinched.

“ARGHHH!” SLICE! You threw your head back seeing him break the sword in two right at the handle which almost made the poor wizard guy faint. Thor just stood their awkwardly with the tiny blunt little sword in his hand. “It’s fine I can just-” he tried jamming it back into the rock but was way too forceful so he ended up putting an even larger dent in what was left of it. 

“Does anyone have some glue?” Tony casually yelled around while Bruce was trying to hide behind a dip n dots cart mumbling “I don’t know them,” and pretending to be completely oblivious to all of the scared screaming children that had just seen a part of their imagination torn apart.

“I can’t say that I’m not surprised,” Natasha mumbled with her head slightly cocked to one side as she studied the scene. “It could be a really good piece of modern art I guess.”

“Oh no,” Steve flinched in pain at those words. “Please, not again with the modern art,” he cringed just thinking about those strange, abstract sculptures of plain shapes or made of weird materials that people called art these days.

“Well, I need a beer,” Tony piped up trying to think of a solution to cure everyone’s sudden depression. 

“Is there a tavern around here?” Thor questioned.

“Yeah, actually, there is a tavern,” you were surprised to remember that there did happen to be a place for them to drink around here. “I think you’ll like it, Thor. It’s very, er… manly.” You smiled only half-sarcastically as you thought back to the Disney villain that owned the place. He had been one of your favorites as a kid despite his tendency to boast about his buffness (which is why you believed you were able to tolerate Tony and Thor) and awfully misogynistic world view. But, that’s Disney for you.

Gaston’s Tavern was a very rustic looking place that sort of tried to be half hunting lodge and half shrine to its namesake Frenchman. Upon approaching an entrance, there was a Gaston actor leaned up against one of the windows and hitting on basically every mom that went in or out. God, it made you sick. It was like he was Tony but without any smarts whatsoever.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Bruce wondered at the sight of him flexing his completely-not-fake-and-made-of-padding biceps. 

“Welcome, everyone! Don’t worry, you will all have the chance to meet me, Gaston: the strongest, most handsome, and brave man in all of town. You may applaud,” the airhead was motioning for people to clap and a couple of other employees (not dressed up) responded with some cheers as if to play along. 

“You sure that’s not Tony?” Steve whispered to you under his breath which made you smile. You gave him a look and winked at him as if to say, “that was exactly what I was thinking” and rolled your eyes.

“So you claim to be the strongest man around here?” Thor stepped forward a little bit too menacingly with the seriousness of his voice which caused a couple of people around him to gasp just laying their eyes on the perfectly sculpted body of a god. Before it could go anymore out of hand you ran up to him and tried to get his attention.

“Nope, nuh uh, Thor, this is just a guy playing a character; he’s supposed to say those things but he doesn’t really mean them. C’mon, you will break this guy’s arm worse than that fake sword and everyone knows that, so it’s okay because you don’t have to prove anything.” The nervousness in your quivering voice could not have been worse as you saw Thor trying to measure up this poor dude with the fake biceps and wig. 

“Character? Pffff,” Gaston played aloof to the danger in the form of a giant Scandinavian looking lumber jack that was right in front of him. “Gaston is the strongest man in town and he isn’t afraid to prove it.”

“Buddy, I’m trying to save your life,” you spit at him.

“How about an old fashioned arm wrestling match?” Natasha suggests and you lightly slap her for encouraging this awful testosterone measuring contest. Thor and Gaston, however, are immediately down for it though you can see the rules of arm-wrestling being a lot different on Asgard which may actually result in this guy’s arm being completely ripped off.

“HOWWWWWW about we let someone else go first, huh?” your voice cracks which makes Natasha smirk. “Weakest goes up against him first, you know? And then Thor is the championship match?”

“Hold on, are you saying that you think Thor is the strongest?” Tony rips of his sunglasses to look you straight in the eyes.

“This isn’t a contest guys; obviously I’m the strongest!” Bruce plays innocent and coy with his shoulders shrugged but you don’t take his hulking out joke too lightly. 

“Not when you’re this color you’re not. You’re first,” you shove up towards Gaston who’s had a wooden table pulled out to the front of the tavern just for the occasion. Then Bruce gets a little sweaty realizing that he actually has to put on his best performance and goes to sit across from the smirking playboy villain who’s already got his right elbow up on the table. You can see all of the fake padding under his costume’s sleeve from where you are, but you still aren’t sure how much muscle this guy actually has on his own. He’s fairly broad and definitely looks like he’s the type to have always idolized body builders, yet you still aren’t sure if that means he has a definite win over Bruce.

“Alright gentlemen I want a fair match,” says Nat. “Elbows on the table at all times, and 3, 2, 1-” 

It was a pretty evenly matched fight as both men’s fists seemed to keep a nice right angle for the first few moments and none of them had a visible advantage over the other. You could see Bruce’s veins in the side of his face which always made an appearance when he tried to Hulk out, but Gaston also had some pretty good form and was gritting his teeth together as they both tried to exert more and more force against the other. The it seemed like it was bobbling more towards Bruce’s direction and his focus completely shifted to Gaston himself who he showed his teeth like a primate and growled at with a deep Hulk-like rumble in the back of his throat. That must’ve been enough to intimidate the guy because he stumbled with his grip for a second and Bruce took the opportunity to ram his hand into the table and take the win.

“YES! YES! I AM VICTORIOUS!” he screamed going in for a chest bump with Thor who had been chanting Banner’s name the whole time. “What do you think about that, GASTON?!” he and Thor were backing him up into a corner which did not seem like a good idea.

“Gentlemen, please, if we could all just- okay, security!” his voice suddenly switched to that of a your typical New Jersey accent but in a slightly higher pitch as he called for help and all seven of you looked at one another before pushing your way through the crowds to get as far away as possible. 

“You know running is just going to bring even more attention to us,” Natasha quipped but you didn’t care about being stealthy at the moment. 

“Just go!” you pushed her forward. The last thing you wanted was to be banned  from all Disney parks after your first time setting foot in one. Panicking with no ideas on how to cover your tracks, you desperately snapped your fingers together and all of a sudden a grey storm cloud appeared just above Gaston’s Tavern and poured down gallons of water over the immediate area of the crime scene, soaking all the workers and making them slip as you ran off rain-free.

Unfortunately, a little girl about 7 or 8 wearing the same Minnie Mouse ears as you had watched your little trick which left her mouth frozen wide open before she could have taken a bite of her dole whip. You laughed nervously and one shoulder came up to your ear as you played dumb, hoping that she wouldn’t remember any of what she just saw or would ever be taken seriously enough for adults to believe her. “Heh, uh, unpredictable Florida weather, right?” you offered but her expression remained the same.

“I’m sorry, but is she the child or are you?” Natasha grabbed your wrist and pulled you along behind her while she tried to forget that she just saw you trying to reason about your spontaneous weather-changing powers with a kid that probably still wet the bed. “Very smooth, y/l/n.”

“Don’t think I don’t have a cloud specially made for you, Romanoff,” she releases a huff and takes a double take when you stick out your tongue at her but then resumes pulling you along with an even tighter grip.

“Yup, my girlfriend is a complete child,” she mutters to herself.

“SO,” you put on a big wide smile as you turn to Tony and pretend like you didn’t hear her. “Tony, do you have anything you’d like to do that doesn’t involve tampering with Disney property?”

“Actually, yes, there is one guy I’d like to meet. Or, rather, have Banner meet.”

At first you were certain Tony planned to throw Bruce into the It’s A Small World Ride or try setting him up with one of the princesses, but his actual plan was surprisingly pleasant. 

“FINALLY! Someone who gets it!” Bruce was over relieved and had threw up his hands.

“Well, yeah, it’s not easy being green, you know?” Kermit the Frog was out sitting on a bench just casually giving out life advice when Tony had ambushed the poor muppet talking all about how Bruce and him had a little green problem in common.

“No, no it isn’t. Thank you so much for saying that!” 

“What are you doing?” Natasha leaned in to Tony who had pulled out his phone.

“Oh, I’m recording this for instagram.”

“I mean, first off it just blends into so many things. People always think I’m some sort of walking bush.”

“Wow, people always think I’m a giant tree!”

“What the heck is Tony doing?” you ask as Nat wraps her arm around your waist.

“He’s filming it for instagram,” you laugh before tugging at her shirt to seriously look her in the eyes. “Hey, it’s almost time for the fireworks show. You wanna go somewhere we can be alone?”

“After you,” she offers up her arm which you gladly take while you walk next to her with your head on her shoulder. Moments like these where you could act like a normal couple were what had you hanging onto life for so many years throughout all of the struggles. You had looked forward to, no, dreamed about having someone that loved you for years. And while your relationship with Natasha wasn’t normal as neither of you were normal people, you cherished sharing these simple moments with her. 

Bribing the ride operator to stop the ferris wheel when you and Nat reached the very top was so unlike you, but definitely a great decision. 

“Isn’t this a little bit unethical?” Natasha criticized your usual goody-two-shoes self. Pink, blue, and white fireworks began shooting off in the distant sky lighting up the cloudless view you had of the horizon and the stars coming into view. 

“So are the things I want to do you,” you try to keep a serious face but can’t help but laugh at the raised eyebrow she gives you. Her magnetic pull brings you in closer and soon the fireworks going off are just background noise.

“I adore you,” she whispers just before your lips touch and the real fireworks start to go off, ending the perfect day at the most magical place on earth.

[joeymozzarello]

Pen to Paper

Chapter Five

Summary: A simple thesis on a simple book she’d read. That’s all she needed to do. She knew it would be at least a little bit arduous but she didn’t think it would cause this much trouble.

Pairing: Tim Murphy x original female character

Words: 3,059

A/N: i got the idea for this in the american natural history museum where i found a note to a Julie T from a Dr. Com on a bench near the t-rex room.

//

Julie was never the ‘blackout drunk’ type. Sure she liked to party now and then, but she never felt she was one to go overboard. However, Saturday night happened in flashes. It all begun at the karaoke bar. Julie remembered her entrance because she spent ten minutes outside the place, practising her introduction. She didn’t want to seem awkward, she wanted to seem casual, smart and funny. She tried to think of all her good traits; a sharp jawline and gleaming blue eyes that didn’t sink too far into her skull, straight teeth, great ass - with a sharp inhale, she suddenly felt a lot more confident. 

She remembered walking up to Steven, who greeted her with a hug she wasn’t expecting and introduced her as ‘JJ’ to the whole group. This was strange because she’d never referred to herself as JJ in the past week, it felt like a very back at home thing, so she politely corrected him and the conversations quickly moved on. The first thirty minutes of the night included Julie being squashed into the corner of the couch whilst having the world’s most uncomfortable conversation with a guy that looked like Clark from the Office and was just as much a douchebag as Clark was and certainly just as memorable, in that, he wasn’t at all.

It had all started with a look up and down, from the top of her head, all the way down to her shoes, as if he had Terminator vision and he was trying to read as much about her as possible in very little time. His eyes stopped at her t-shirt. “How very English of you,” he said. She wasn’t quite sure whether this was a good or bad thing, his tone remained blank and so did his expression as he sipped on what looked like a cosmopolitan. “The Beatles were the only band that could accompany you to this event?”

"Who speaks like that?" was what she thought. What she actually said was, “I didn’t think I was going to be judged on my shirt choice, maybe next time I’ll go for a casual green,” she said, smiling sourly whilst staring at his extremely bright lime button up that should’ve stayed in his closet. He just rolled his eyes.

“You know he died here, right? John Lennon,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Congratulations, you’re a lot more lenient on murder here than we are back in England,” her eye contact didn’t falter. She being challenged and she wasn’t going to lose. “What would you like? An award?”

That’s where the conversation died down. Mr I’m-Ready-To-Catch-You-Out had gotten bored of her quick wit and he’d turned to someone else, leaving Julie on her own, still filling a space that was way too small for her. With a huff and a push at the hipster sitting next to her, she got up and walked towards the bar. “Hey, can I get a vodka martini with two olives? Cheers,” she nodded, looking back at the table full of people she was sure she wouldn’t get along with. “Yeah, just add it to their tab,” she gestured towards them with her thumb.

Leaning back onto the crowed counter, Julie just sipped on her drink, a little tipsy from the two shots she’d had with the group but still not feeling in the party mood. She sighed, starting to give up but in the corner of her eye, she spotted him. Blue jeans and a knitted yellow sweater, it could only be one person; Tim Murphy walked in, looking like he didn’t quite know the meaning of clean shaven and as if he were the advocate of looking scruffy but somehow, he looked more awake and ready to party than Julie had all night.

She wasn’t quite sure how to feel. It was perfectly logical that he was here, these were, after all, his friends but somehow, that didn’t cross Julie’s mind. Okay, maybe it had, just a tiny bit on Friday night, but that moment came and went without a second thought. She hadn’t seen him since their short, but surely not sweet, conversation on Thursday.

Tim Murphy did a sweep of the room, scanning the location as if he was looking for quick escapes just in case. She stared at him, somewhat hoping his eyes would catch hers, just to see what he would do if he saw her. He saw the table his friends were at, there didn’t seem to be any shift in his eyes or composure, he just kept looking around for a few moments and finally it happened. Their eyes locked.

Julie narrowed her eyes, smugly and sipped on her drink as she set one elbow down on the counter and leaned in comfortably. It was almost a challenge, a dare for him to come up to her. She didn’t exactly know what she wanted him to do, she didn’t really expect an explanation for his shortcomings but at least an apology. She would very much enjoy watching the Dr Tim Murphy apologise to her. Her mother always called her a sadist, Julie didn’t see it.

To her surprise, Tim didn’t give it a thought before walking towards her, his back slouched slightly and his walk almost tired but his aura was nothing but soft. As if he was suddenly in the mood to joke around. “Oh yes, you look like the real life of the party,” he approached her, biting the inside of his cheek, the slightest smile grazing his lips. “Tell me, why are you over here, standing alone, when the people who invited you out are all over there having fun?”

Julie straightened up, mimicking his confidence. “So is today one of the days we’re friends or are you going to shut me down first thing I say? I’d just like to be ready so I can pick up the broken pieces of my heart a little quicker this time,” she tilted her head, biting back a smile. After a second, Tim raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, sighing, as if he gave up. He sat on the stool next to her.

“Gotta make this a good night. Shots on me?” He watched her, she was a little dumbfounded, not expecting that to work or even do anything but she was glad they were back on a nice rhythm. She just nodded, swinging back the las bit of her martini and taking her place next to Tim Murphy.

There was a lot of drinking in a very short amount of time but as things got fuzzier, the details started to slip away.

She didn’t know exactly how it happened, the lights were melting together in a spectrum of floating lights and deafening singing. She remembered joking about how the two of them would be much better than the guy who had been butchering a song they both loved. Next thing she knew, Tim was grabbing her hand and taking her towards the stage. “Hello!” He’d giggled into the microphone, getting a sparse response from the crowd. “We are Jim and Tulie - no, wait, Tim and Julie and tonight, we will be singing ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ by…” he turned to her with wide eyes and complete confusion over his face. She just shrugged. “We don’t know. But everyone knows this song. Just sing along with us. Okay. Enjoy.”

She remembered thinking Tim had a somewhat nice voice, it did crack when he tried to go too high or he shouted into the microphone. Both of them were ridiculously bad at singing in time with the music but people seemed to start to get into it. They begun to sing along and during the second chorus, when Tim’s arm was around her shoulders and they were both slouched forward, singing into one microphone and staring into the screen for the lyrics, people actually started dancing and clapping along. The both of them loved the attention.

There was something about letting go. When suddenly people became unapologetically themselves, when they start to accept each other and live without thinking twice about anything other than the here and now. That’s when Julie knew she was living for real, for herself, and not for some fictional, fairytale world she wasn’t even sure she wanted anymore.

The karaoke bar closed at midnight. Julie wasn’t quite sure what had happened between their performance and the moment they stumbled outside, their jackets open in the chilly October air, clouds puffed out of their mouths as they laughed and soon the only thing that could be heard in the backstreets of New York, over the hushed ambulances and car horns, were Tim and Julie, taking it in turns to shush each other.

“Do you ever feel like just because things happened ages ago they aren’t that far away?” Tim asked after a few moments of silence. Julie wasn’t walking in a straight line, her feet were crossing over each other and she was only looking at the floor as she walked, trying very hard not to step on the cracks. Tim, on the other hand, he walked slower, staring up at the sky, no stars to be seen, just a foggy dark sky and lots of buildings.

“Do you mean like the saying ‘it feels just like yesterday’?” Julie said slowly, trying her best to focus on the conversation.

“I guess,” he sighed. “Or like, when you think about it so much and it always plays over in your head even when you don’t want it to.”

Julie thought of a second, stopping in her tracks and bringing her gaze a little bit higher so she was staring ahead. Tim noticed she’d stopped so he turned and just watched her, his hands in his big grey coat. “I dunno, sometimes I think about the time my dog pooped in my bed because I forgot to take him on a walk,” she paused, thinking. “But I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

“No,” he giggled. “But it was good to know.”

They walked and talked; their conversations consisted of made up gibberish, hypothetical scenarios and some truthful outbursts. Julie found herself bumping into Tim’s shoulder to make him stumble over to the side, only for him to look at her from glazed, tired eyes and rush to push her back. Suddenly, nothing about the two of them was sarcastic, everything that tumbled out of their mouths was pure interest asked through croaky chuckles. It was as if they were children again.

“…so, I’m thinking, we get the boat and we just let it float and see where it gets to!” Tim laughed, throwing his hands up as if he’d just told her the most magnificent plan anyone has ever thought of. Julie had a couple of questions, to which Tim had all the answers. “You seem to not be sure of my plan, trust me I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Why you may ask? Well, you see -"

“I’m broke,” it came out of nowhere. Julie wasn’t sure why she had said it, it was the first time she’d said that out loud, probably the first time she’d properly admitted it to herself not as a passing joke or remark. “I thought my parents were going to help me out, I really did. They still haven’t and I’m starting to get worried. I’m living in a terrible hotel and I haven’t had a proper meal in a week. I’m tired and I haven’t really slept. It’s just been bad. All bad.” 

There was a bit of silence. They’d both stopped walking now, Tim was standing awfully still, not quite sure what to say since he’d never had the issue himself. Julie felt embarrassed, now that it was out in the open, she felt like she shouldn’t have said anything at all. Her face went warm, she was sure her cheeks were flushed as she heaved a sigh and stuffed her hands into her pockets and bit her lip. “Sorry, that was a bit much, what were you saying about the boat?”

Tim just blinked, he begun looking a little amused at her attempt to change the subject. “Text your parents.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Pardon?”

“You heard me, text your parents.”

She considered it. “Okay.”

Someway, somehow, almost an hour and a half later, they ended up at Tim’s apartment, a cat brushing past her legs almost immediately as they walked through the door. Tim pointed at the three cats, his keys in his mouth as he took off his jacket and shut the door. “That’s Peanut and Butter and Jelly.”

Her mouth fell open with a laugh. “Really?”

He hummed, squatting down to greet his cats, all of which were now around him, meowing, probably ready to be fed. He looked so calm and loving, something she’d never seen before, and for a split second, she saw the hood over his eyes falter. For a split second he didn’t look tired or as if he was somewhere else. “Peanut and Butter came together, one of my neighbours had kittens and didn’t know what to do with them,” he hummed. "Jelly was a rescue, I was afraid she wasn’t gonna take in well with the other two but they love her. She’s become the alpha of this apartment, it’s wonderful,” he laughed. Right as he said that, Jelly meowed at him, loudly and jumped onto the counter. “Yes, yes, hang on.”

Julie watched Tim as he got up to feed the cats, no longer drunk but somewhat quiet, like he was in deep thought or just extremely calm. There was no explaining it, the best she could do was look at his shoulders, there was no tension in the way he stood and the slouch he usually sported was now just a relaxed stance. He moved slowly but with care and his eyes, slightly glazed over from a yawn, blinked slowly in the dim light of the kitchen.

He sat on one of his massive leather couches, picking up a blanket and patting the space next to him. “You can stay here tonight, I doubt you know your way home,” he said quietly. Julie bit her lip. “I mean, if you want, if anything, I can get you a taxi,” he backtracked.

Julie shrugged. “I walked here.”

“You what?” He sat up. “From Brooklyn?”

“Yeah, I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and just sort of - made my way,” she sat beside him, an awkward space between them. “I actually passed a shop on the way here,” she grabbed her bag, pulling out a book that looked like it hadn’t been opened since the early 1900s. “They just sold cookbooks, vintage cookbooks. This one is called Twenty-four Little French Dinners and How to Cook and Serve Them. Not that I’ll be cooking any French dinners anytime soon, but I just thought it was really cool.”

Tim took the book from her. “We should cook a French dinner,” he blinked.

Her chuckle came to a halt when she turned to him and saw he wasn’t kidding. “I don’t actually know how to cook, I’ve been living off of digestives for the past week and baked beans out of a can for the past three years, I don’t wanna burn down your apartment,” she wouldn’t admit it but something about this idea excited her. She wasn’t used to it.

“Then we should definitely do it,” he seemed determined, something about this amused her. “Come on, don’t you think it could be fun?”

“I think we should make this decision sober,” she laughed. Tim got up and just stared at her. He reached out his hand for her to grab.

“I’m as sober as I’ll ever be, darling,” he winked. This surprised her, the sudden burst of bravery and the impulsiveness of his actions. She liked it, though, she still felt this was a bad idea, she took his hand and they made their way to the kitchen. “Now let’s see, which French dinner is best?”

It was now nearing five in the morning and their food was in the oven, Julie was still in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to make dessert and Tim, covered in flour, walked over to Jelly who was sat in front of the TV, waiting for Tim to turn it on. He smiled, ready to comply. He flipped through the channels, trying to find some documentary or other about animals in the wild when a news story caught his eye.

His heart sunk into his chest, breath getting heavier through his gaping mouth. He could feel his eyes get wider and his spine curl. The news castor’s voice buzzed through his ears as he watched what he thought could never have happened again.

“Simon Masrani, most known as the son of Sanjay Masrani, founder of the Masrani Global Corporation has just announced his plans to fulfil the late John Hammond’s dream to create a ‘functioning dinosaur park’ that will be open to the public. John Hammond is best known for his failed and short-lived creation of ‘Jurassic Park’ in 1993. This park is set to open at the end of the year and Masrani assures the public of its complete safety and assures it will be ‘fun for the whole family’. Masrani worked with fellow high-ranking members of InGen, including Dr Henry Wu to ensure this park’s success -”

“Hey, Tim? How much is 280 degrees in Fahrenheit? I just need to put this thing in the oven and then we’re set,” when he didn’t reply, Julie looked up at him, confused. “Tim?” She looked over at the TV, he was frozen. Julie walked over to him, recalling his memoirs from his book and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped up, making Julie stumble back, shocked and she just watched him. “Are you okay?”

“I need you to leave,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. She tried to say something but he just held a hand up, shaky. “Please?” His voice cracked. “Just please leave,” he picked up her bag and handed it to her, motioning towards the door.

And with her heart in her throat, she hugged her bag and picked up her coat and walked out into the hallway.

Master List!