#young vode

[immagods]

Then there are the whispers of a clone frozen in stasis. A medic trying to save his brothers, only to wake up and realise he is the last, all his brothers are gone. They are just rumours. No one's sure if they are true or not, until one day.

One day where Kix sitting in a cantina in the outer rim, where he sees a group of people gathered around a holo. He pays no mind to it at first, that is, until he hears someone say a familiar name. A name he hasn't heard spoken out loud in a long time. A brothers name.

So he gets closer, and he sees what the group of people are looking at. It's the photo. The photo that Rex had hanging on the wall of his office, the one of him, Fives, Echo and Cody. The photo that Fives always said made him and Echo Rex's favourites. Kix remembers that holo, he remembers the battle when it was taken. Remembers it was just after Fives and Echo had gotten back from Arc training. Remembers that he was just behind the camera, waiting to chew Fives out; because 'even if you have ARC training now. It doesn't mean that you can go and do stupid risky shit all the time trying to impress the shinies.'

Kix is drawn from the memories of ghosts when he feels someone tap him on the arm. It's a young girl with big blue familiar looking eyes, and she says that she thinks it cool that he looks exactly like the brave soldiers she learnt about in school. She asks him if his grandfather was a clone, if he knew any clones, if he's heard any stories of the clones. Kix stares at the girl for a moment, thinking about another girl with curious blue eyes, before he answers her. He tells her that he is a clone, that he has so many stories that he can't even count them.

With wide eyes, the girl drags him closer to the holo and pointing at it asks him if he knows the clones in the photo.

And Kix, looking at the holo, thinks of the old mando'a that they used to say; Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.'

So he tells the girl.

He tells her how they were his brothers. He tells her how he was apart of the 501st. He tells her how they fought for freedom. He tells her how they were always finding ways to laugh during the war. He tells her how they adopted the jedi into their family. He tells her how no matter how bad things got the clones knew they would be okay as long as they had eachother. He tells her their names.

The more stories he tells the more people listen. And word spreads. The Clones are not all gone. There is one left. And he's telling the stories of the clones, the stories that, when there where millions of clone alive no one wanted to hear. But they want to hear them now, they want to know the clones now. They want to know the worriors that fought for freedom and laid down the foundations for everything after. They clones story may be a tragedy, but it will not be forgotten.

The Vode will be remembered.

[sailorkamino]

au where during the clone wars there's a republic photographer. i can't draw but here are some of my ideas!

• jedi laughing with their clones, they look incredibly young when happy

• clone sleeping on a jedi's shoulder, sharing a cloak as a blanket, another clone sleeps in their lap

• jedi standing protectively over a fallen clone, teeth bared like a predator, a dangerous look in their eyes

• young clones painting their armor

• jedi comforting a grieving clone, a silent tear rolls down their own face

• clones teaching jedi how to shoot, exchanging excited high fives when a target is hit

• clone holding a lightsaber in a dramatic pose, jedi looks amused, vode looks scared

• clones feeding their rations to animals, childlike smiles on their faces

• jedi leading a meditation or yoga class

• clones first snow ball fight

• clones playing hair salon, giving each other trims and dye jobs

• clones giving each other's tattoos and piercings

• clone protectively holding a civvie child (the caption: two children of war)

• clone desperately clinging to their fallen brother's blacks, it still smells like them

• batch mates in full armor discretely holding hands, it's their first battle and they're scared

• clone in a flower field, petals in their curls

• clones sleeping around their injured vod in the medbay

• kedable kisses (forehead presses)

• clones on leave volunteering at the jedi temple, playing with younglings and teaching classes

• jedi younglings painting their robes and skin to match their favorite vode

• a clone with a small smile, looking proud and emotional, the caption explains he just named himself

• clones trying sweets for the first time

• clone trying to imitate something cool their jedi did and face planting, vode laughing hysterically in the background

• jedi carrying an injured clone (caption: irreplaceable)

[huntershoe]

Back To You (Part Two)

Hunter x Jedi!Reader

Spoilers for tbb season 3 if you haven't watched it yet :}

Summary: You enjoyed your evening with your unusual family after months of being apart. Leading you and Hunter to enjoy your night after months. :)

T/W: mention of scars and describsion of them, hurt/comfort, fluff, Smut, sweet sweet love making, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving), fingering, breeding kink, PiV, minors DNI!

A/N: Don't let the beginning fool you, this starts with lots of fluff and ends in pure smut. :)

Word count: 3.8k

Part one

After the sun had already settled and thousands of stars took its place you and the batch stayed in your seats, talking about everything and remembering the old times. Omega eventually invited Lyana over to play and after some time even Deke, Stak and Mox joined, shyly introducing themselves.

They turned out to be the sweetest boys, offering to help tidy the table and help Omega and Lyana as they tried to teach Batcher some new tricks.

It's been a long time since you and the batch felt so at peace. A long time since you got to just sit back down, relax and watch the kids play, knowing that your family is safe and well.

Hours had gone by as you watched the kids come up with new tricks. Cheering every time Batcher successfully did a new trick. At this point everything felt perfect, everyone was in a happy mood, spotting wide grins and barking laughs left and right. At one point, Hunter managed to grab your stool, pulling your closer to him and sneaking his arm around your shoulders.

Kissing your temple, Hunter whispered sweet promises through the whole evening, bathing in your natural perfume.

Only after most of the city around them went quiet did Hunter tell the kids to quiet down and start preparing for bed. Omega managed to convince Hunter to let Lyana sleep over and since the other three young clone cadets were already staying in the same house as the batch, they transformed Omegas room into one giant cove.

At the end all that could be heard were quiet giggles, coming through the window from her room as the adults enjoyed some peace and quiet.

Of course it didn't stayed like that for long since Hunter's hands became increasingly more wandering, exploring your body with light touches, remembering the small curves and lines. Crosshair with his keen sight noticed his brothers wandering hands and couldn't help himself but to tease a little, making Wrecker and Echo join on in, resulting in Hunter groaning and standing up, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you after him.

More amused than annoyed by the teasing you just giggled and waved the boys goodbye as Hunter led you further away and toward the beach.

"Where exactly are you taking me verd?" You ask curiously and adding his nickname. That small nickname made him stop in his tracks for a moment, looking back at you with a  smirk as he turned fully back towards you and pulled you into him, making you gasp at his sudden movement.

"Somewhere without prying eyes, where I don't have to listen to my vode teasing." His voice sounded even lower then usual, more smoky and laced with desire as his hands snaked around your waist and lower. A wide smirk was plastered on his lips as his eyes jumped up and down from your eyes to your mouth. His answer made your head fall back in laughter and your hands sneaked up his chest. When you finally looked back at him your breath caught in your throat when his eyes locked with yours. The moon shone down on him, making his eyes sparkle in a beautiful gray tone as the smile lines around his eyes deepened. You couldn't resist but to grin as you stared back at him. "What?" You asked amused as he kept on staring and not saying anything.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered dreamily, lifting one of his hands up, cupping your cheek and you gladly leaned in and closed your eyes. But as his fingers brushed across your new scars, your brows dipped down and you felt tears threatening to spill. "I was...beautiful." Shame overwhelmed you, making you avert your eyes away from his. "Now I'm full of scars, looking more like a rancor than a human." You addressed the truth, or at least what you thought was the real truth.

"Don't." Hunter interrupted you again, shaking his head as he moved his other hand up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Don't ever say that." He ordered, looking at you seriously. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on, the most amazing, beautiful, talented and caring woman in the galaxy. You have gone through so much and you deserve only the best things in your life." Hunter told you, determined to make you see the actual truth. "The scars on your body only show just how strong you are...I only wish you could see yourself as I do." He kissed away the tears rolling down your cheeks as you gripped onto him.

Your body went completely soft and you leaned on Hunter, melting into his embrace as his hands moved to envelope your frame and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. One of your biggest worries was that now that you look like that Hunter wouldn't want you anymore. You knew that just thinking like that was stupid because if you really love someone then their appearance shouldn't matter. But fear sneaked into your mind, making you unsure and scared of loosing the man you love.

"I'm sorry..." You quietly whispered, still hiding your face in his neck and you felt Hunter's hands pull you even closer to him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for cyare." Hunter brought his hand up to your head, gently stroking your hair as he kissed your temple.

You took one last breath, collecting the courage to look at him again. As you did so, you were met with nothing but love in his eyes, that soft sparkle dancing in his eyes as he looked at you. Hunter gave you a small smile and brushed off the remaining tears away from your eyes.

"You're stuck with me for the rest of your life mesh'la."

He said teasingly but the tone of his voice showed just how serious he was being.

You let out a small chuckle and he moved his hand back to your neck, pushing your head forward and leaning it against his own into a keldabe kiss.

Both you and Hunter took a moment to enjoy each other's presence, just breathing in and out, sharing the air between you.

Soon, Hunter couldn't wait any longer, too enthralled with you, he leaned further in, pressing his lips against yours.

The moment his lips met yours, your body instantly relaxed, almost like all previous worries washed away with just one kiss. You pushed your hands up and into his hair, tangling your fingers into his curly locks.

Starving for your touch, Hunter groaned in your mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue was invading, determined to conquer your mouth as your own danced around his.

Your lips moved around each other, like two pieces of puzzle, made to compliment the other. You kissed until your own lungs began burning with need of oxygen and you pulled away, gasping for air as your eyes found his gold ones instantly.

A small smile appeared on your lips. "What would I do without you?" Hunter's own lips mirrored yours after your question.

His smile grew into a wide grin and he moved, leaving one hand around your shoulders and leaving the other one at his side as he pulled you with him again, leading you both down towards the beach. "C'mon I wanna show you something." Hunter murmured into your ear as you two moved closer to the lagoon.

It was few days away from the moon being full but it was hard to notice the difference as the moon shined so bright, illuminating the path and everything else around. The slow rhythmic waves created a calming ambience as you made it to the sand. Hunter stopped you and moved in front of you, kneeling. Your brows shot up in confusion when he grabbed your foot and slowly took off your shoe, followed by your sock.

"What are you do--oh." Realization crossed your face when he took off your other shoe, pulling the sock with it. The sand was still radiating some heat from the sun, making it perfect to walk across.

Grinning, Hunter stood up and took off his own shoes, storing them beside yours. He took your hand again, pressing a kiss to you cheek before pulling you towards the sea.

The sand felt amazing, making you feel free as you held onto your lover's hand. Your feet hit the sea and a soft smile appeared on your face.

Hunter once again let go of your hand and gently grabbed you by the hips. "I want you to know, you...mean everything to me." He grasped, looking you directly into your eyes before gently kissing you again.

You responded immediately, returning the kiss and grabbing onto his shoulders, smiling into the kiss.

You felt his hands move lower, reaching your ass and squeezing it hungrily, making you gasp into the kiss as he chuckled.  "Hunter...you are the reason I fought to stay alive." You shared, cupping his cheek.

You stayed in his arms for a moment longer before a wicked grin sneaked onto your lips and you jumped away from him, crouching down and cupping the water before swinging your arms and splashing your man.

Hunter gasp loudly, looking at your surprised before a dangerous glint showed in his eyes and he smirked, repeating your actions and splashing you back.

The water hit you, instantly wetting you all over and you squealed before running away. Hunter barked a laugh before chasing after you.

You ran, occasionally splashing behind you, hearing Hunter gasp again and then you would feel him splashing you back. The chase continued for a couple of minutes and by the end, you were both soaking wet. Hunter was steadily nearing you and in one swift moment he grabbed you, swaying you off your feet and you squealed, grabbing onto his forearms around your waist.

His chest rumbled as he laughed, squeezing you close to him before slowly putting you down and turning you around in his arms.

"Fancy a midnight swim?" He suggested, raising his brows.

"Everything to get me naked I see." You teased, sneaking your hands around his slim waist.

"Everything." He confirmed before moving his hands to the hem of your shirt, silently asking for a permission.

You slowly nodded, letting him take your shirt off carefully, leaving you in your bra. He made and effort to throw your shirt at the nearest rock. Hunter slowly lowered his hands, letting them travel down your sides and to your pants, slowly pulling them off, along with your panties. You helped him take them off by lifting your legs, one by one. Grabbing onto his shoulder for some balance.

He did the same by throwing them on the close by rock.

Hunter stayed crouching in front of you, moving closer and kissing your knee. Your cheeks flushed when he continued up towards the inside of your thigh and repeating the same thing on your other leg. He peppered open-mouthed kisses all across the inside of your thighs, coming closer to your cunt. Hunter brought your knee over his shoulder, opening you for him.

You watched, your pupils dilating with lust the closer he got to where you needed him the most.

Finally his lips found your folds, licking stipe after stripe with his tongue across and letting out the most guttering groan at the taste of you. Hunter looked possessed, almost like that the taste of you awoken something in him, he began lapping on your juices. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let your head fall back as a loud moan escaped your lips.

Your hand moved up to his hair and you tugged on his locks, making him groan just as he started sucking on your clit. The vibrations made your whole body shake and your eyes roll back.

His lips move lower and his tongue begins to prodd on your entrance, slowly pushing in as his nose brushes against your sensitive clit. He slowly begins pumping his tongue as deep as he can, taking in your juices and inhaling your sweet scent. You let out a long sigh and began rolling your hips against his face, slowly approaching your high.

Your movement made him groan deeply and you looked back down at him. You met his blown out eyes, dark with desire, hunger almost radiating off of him as he keeps on pumping his tongue into you. Hunters hungry moves made you clench around him, whimpering when he grabbed your ass, squeezing it as he pulled you closer to him. You heard him growl as he moved back up to suck on your clit again and gently biting it, making your body break in half.

Gasping, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge when  Hunter sneaked one of his hands in front and up to your entrance, slowly pushing in two of his fingers. He began pumping his fingers, slowly, sensually and hitting that perfect spot every time and before you could even realize, you fell over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as small gasps and moans escaped your lips along with his name.

But Hunter didn't stop, dragging out your high for as long as possible before you couldn't take it anymore. "Hunter please, I-I can't anymore." You gasped out and he finally stopped, pulling his fingers out and lapping at your juices that began spilling out of you. You felt like you were just about to tip over him, but he stood up just in the right moment, carefully holding you with one hand while the other one which was just inside you came up to your mouth.

"Open." Hunter ordered, pressing his fingers to your lips.

You did so, willing to do everything he wanted.

"See how good you taste mesh'la." He murmured as his fingers entered you mouth and you tasted yourself, that sweet and sour taste that made you moan around his finger as he slowly pulled them out, strings of saliva still connected to your lips.

"Good girl." He praised before pressing his lips to yours and making you taste yourself again.

You couldn't wait any longer and so you began undressing him, your hands working swiftly as you pulled his vest off, throwing it over to the same rock. Exposing the curve of his ribs and his chest and making your hands wander in a feather like touch across his pecs and stomach muscles. Hunters breath hitched and he looked down at you with hunger as your hands moved lower and lower down to his belt.

You fumbled with his belt, trying to untie it as fast as you could, leaning on the tip of your toes and kissing him again. Hunter grabbed your cheeks, smashing his face against yours, your knees buckled as his belt finally came undone under your fingertips. You tugged his pants off, exposing his lower belly. You pulled back from the kiss, panting as you looked down, watching how your fingers stroked his happy trail and how the muscles flexed under your fingertips. Hunter let out a desperate whine, looking at you, pleading to hurry up.

You grinned at him, slowly kneeling and kissing down his chest as you pull his pants lower. As soon as his pants touched the ground, Hunter lifted his legs one after another, stepping out of them. Grabbing them, you start kissing up his thighs, repeating his gesture, feeling his whole body shiver and his knees buckle as your lips came closer to his weeping hard cock. You chuckle, watching him try to restrain himself and his hands clench into fists at his side.

Finally taking pity on him, you kissed the tip of his cock. The sound he let out was downright sinful, accompanied with his eyes rolling back and his lips wide open. Wanting to see and hear more of that from him you flattened your tongue against his hard-on, licking up from the base to the tip. You felt him twitch against your lips and you finally took him in your mouth, tasting the salty precum.

Hunter let out another long groan and his hands shot to your head, knotting into your hair, not pushing, just leading. Sliding him deeper in, you kept your eyes on his as you relaxed your throat and hollowed your cheeks, you went in as deep as you could, before the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and tears pooled at the corners of your eyes. Hunter slowly pulled you off of him, watching how your lips popped around his dick, he stared completely enchanted as you gasped, a string of your saliva mixed with his precum connecting your lips and his tip.

You gasped, looking up at him through you lashes as you once again licked him from the base to his tip before pulling him back into your mouth. Hunter let out a string of curses when you started bobbing your head, gently clenching your teeth around him, feeling every ridge and vein. Taking him as deep as you can again, before you backed off, panting and stroking his begging cock.

You stroked his curved hard-on using both of your hands, rotating your wrists before you moved one hand down to his balls, playing with them.

Seeing his lower abdominal muscles flex, you knew he was close so you hurried up your pace, jerking him off and making him produce the most beautiful sounds a man can make. Hunter couldn't help himself but to thrust his hips needily, nearing his high. You saw his knees buckle and took him in your mouth again, this time however, Hunter couldn't help himself and he fisted your hair, pulling on it and began desperately thrusting his hips as he let out a long groan. You had to grab onto his thighs for some balance as he pushed as deep as he could, making your eyes water and you choke as his cock twitched in your mouth once, twice before you felt a hot stream of his cum run down your throat.

His legs were shaking as he slowly pulled you off of him and you had to swallow before you could take a long breath, looking up at his fucked out face.

You slowly stood up, your legs wobbly from kneeling so he helped you, taking his pants from you as you passed them to him and he threw them on top of the rest of your clothes.

Both you and Hunter were still panting heavily when Hunter pulled you in for a hungry kiss. Your tongues danced with each other and your hands absentmindedly moved back towards your bra, unclipping it and taking it off, throwing it away.

Letting out groaning sigh, Hunter moved his hands down to you ass cheeks, grabbing the greedily. He gently spanked your ass, signaling you to jump and you did, locking your ankles around his waist and your hands around his neck. "What a sight you are." Hunter mumbled against your lips as he began walking into the sea.

"I can say the same for you ner meshurok." You nodded, your lips brushing against his.

The further Hunter walked into the sea, higher the water came, pooling around you and making you press yourself closer to him as the water felt refreshing. Kneading your ass cheeks, Hunter slowly lowered both of you in the sea while kissing every scar down your neck. Letting out a sigh, you moved your head back, giving him more access as he continued loving attack lower down, giving attention to every scar he found and making his way towards your breasts. Finally pulling your sensitive bud into his mouth, he sucked and played with it, rolling his tongue around.

You sneaked your hand into his hair, playing with his locks as he moved his attention to your other nipple while his hands kept on kneading your ass and making you roll your hips against his. That made your clit stroke against his cock, making you both groan.

"Hunter please." You whimpered, begging for his cock and he let go of your nipple making a popping sound as he moved back up to your throat, pressing his lips directly under your jaw. He sneaked one of his hands between the two of you and grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance.

You let out a high sigh as Hunter began slowly impaling you on his cock, stretching you out in the most delicious way. Groaning your name against your neck he slowly pushed you lower until he bottomed out.

"Mesh'la." Hunter groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut as you moved your head and kissed him.

He hungrily returned the kiss, pulling you closer as he slowly began rolling his hips up into you, letting you feel every vein. Loving the way his thrusts made you feel, you began rolling your hips with him, gasping when the new movement made him hit that sacred spot with every thrust.

Your eyes rolled back and the air left your lungs as Hunter increased the tempo of his thrusts, making you hop up and down as he growled, grabbing onto you more desperately. He began pounding up into you, mercilessly as his own breathing changed into labored panting.

Before you know it your cunt began squeezing down on him and you saw stars as your eyes rolled back again. All you could hear was Hunters desperate whines and his thrusts became sloppier as he neared his high. A moment later Hunter moved his head, biting down on your shoulder as he came, stilling inside you as he filled you up with his cum.

It took you a good minute of panting before Hunter raised his head to look at you. You leaned your head forward, looking at him, only to be met with his eyes full of love and adoration. You gave him the softest smile and moved your hand to his cheek, cupping it as you returned the loving gaze.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner Hunter." You whispered, expressing your every feeling into the words and tracing your finger across his lips.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner mesh'la." Responded, pressing his lips against yours into a loving kiss.

You felt him twirl you both around, spinning in circles as he slowly lifted you up and pulled his cock out, making you whimper at the empty feeling.

"I'm never letting you go again." Hunter sighed and leaned his forehead on yours into another Keldabe kiss.

"And if something ever happens..." You began, gently stroking his hair.

"I promise you, I will always come back to you."

Translations:

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ~ {Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"]

Verd ~ Soldier

Cyare ~ Beloved one, loved one, darling

Mesh'la ~ Beautiful

Ner Meshurok ~ my jewel

A/N: Let me know what you think and if I missed anything <3

[vytels]

So, I've got a new idea for an au... not an original idea by any means, but I just have been thinking about it for awhile now lol

Basically, Luke gets raised by Rex.

At some point, very shortly after Luke is born and Obi-Wan's like shit, I have to get this kid to Tatooine, said Master Jedi gets injured on the way there. Rex is the one that finds him, luckily, and discovers everything that happened (except for Anakin's fall lol). He decides to help Obi-Wan take Luke to the Lars, but when they get there, the Lars are long gone.

At this point, Obi-Wan is too self-loathing and guilty, so he asks if Rex will raise Luke. This starts an argument about who would be better off raising Luke, but eventually Rex gets Luke.

(Obviously, once Rex and Cody are reunited, Rex sicks Cody on Obi-Wan to "get him to come to his senses")

So begins my "semi-writing" spree, where I wrote out just a bunch of little scenes from his AU.

For more from this AU: NEXT

Here is one, beneath the cut:

Luke’s hair grazed his palm, a soft and a slippery stubble that tickled the pads of his fingers. Even his fingers glided over the baby’s skin, cupping the small warmth behind his head and holding him up in his protective fabrics.

Each moment, experiencing the weight in his arms and the soft breaths sniffled into the air, carved themselves into his memories. 

The back of Rex’s mind shot to the long corridors deep within the Kamino Facilities, to the rooms that vode had never been allowed to venture into. The rooms had been full of clones too young to be cadets, yet too old to be in their growth chambers. They had been taken care of droids and a very select personnel, Kaminoiian officials that had watched for any defects or ailments. 

Despite having never stepped foot in those rooms, Rex could figure that they were like any other space in the Facility. They were likely as in-organic and harsh walled as other rooms, with white bright enough to blind and dull enough to bore, and the temperature set to a disparaging chill. All of it had been built to ensure the efficiency and effectiveness of their product, but at the least amount of cost possible. 

Rex hated Kamino. 

He would do everything to ensure Luke never experienced such a nightmare.

Then blue eyes slid open and blinked up at him, accompanied by a growing smile and hands squirming in their blanketed confines. Warmth flooded Rex’s heart and he held Luke up, ducking his head to hover his face closer. 

“Su cuygar, kar’ika,” Rex whispered. 

Luke smiled again and broke his prison, raising a hand to press against Rex’s nose.

[thegreenlizard]

Bare beskar

On the eve of marching to war, Obi-Wan makes plans and digs out his old armour. Musings on Mandalorian armour and culture, the ethics of commanding slave soldiers and how that affects one’s self-image.

Could be the same AU as “Not Obi-Wan’s first slave uprising” and “What makes a military genius” (where Obi-Wan is presented with a battalion of slave soldiers, says please and thank you, and starts plotting how to take down the slavers).

Obi-Wan has Mandalorian armour, courtesy of the Kyr’tsad who failed to kill him when he was seventeen and running for his life on Mandalore. The Jedi frown on such soldierly things, so the armour has mostly gathered dust in his closet for the past decade and some. But Obi-Wan has fought in a war before and recognises that no matter how good one is, sometimes armour is all that stands between bleeding out in a ditch and living to fight another day.

So on the eve of marching to war, Obi-Wan digs out his armour to clean and repair and condition every piece. He looks at its light green for peace and green for duty, the order’s wings on one pauldron/over his heart. He strips it all off. He has no right to wear any of it now, and the bare beskar is a statement of its own.

Plus

- Feels about how bare unpainted beskar could be silver for seeking redemption, disavowing all ties (in that there’s no one and nothing to paint his armour for), for being an outcast (which in his heart, he has already decided to become), or all of them. Leading a slave army to war is really really not in the Jedi mission statement. Obi-Wan, having experienced his own stints as a slave, having brought up a padawan who was born a slave, and having already left the order once for an army of child soldiers—well, he has some feels about it.

- Obi-Wan’s closet doesn’t just have armour, it also has a veritable armoury of, ah, useful souvenirs from his various missions. Maybe it makes him a bad Jedi, but Obi-Wan has some difficulty with letting go of possessions that have saved his life. Such as the sniper rifle from Melidaan, a blaster from here, and a vibroblade from there…

- Cody’s/The 212th’s reactions to their Jedi whose luggage apparently includes a full set of arms and armour and little else.

- There’s a story that armour tells for anyone who can read it and I wonder if the clones could. There are only a few things that a completely unpainted beskar’gam could mean. Either it’s completely new and the owner hasn’t had time yet to paint it. But Kenobi’s beskar’gam isn’t new: the metal has scrapes all over it and some fittings are clearly newer than others. It could be second hand, but as the weeks pass, the metal stays bare. And even though some shinies joke about their shiny, very visible general, Kenobi won’t even put on a matte base coat, just thanks the men politely and keeps on shining. It has to be intentional.

- When Obi-Wan eventually repaints his armour, it’s in gold for the 212th and black for justice for the vode.

In the days between accepting his marching orders and shipping out to meet his battalion, Obi-Wan researches, plans, and packs. He sleeps fitfully and dreams of Melida-Daan, of Bandomeer, of Mandalore. He tears through the archives and with echoes of the Young in his ears, downloads anything that might help keep his men alive. With a growing cold like deep sea mines, he reads the clones spec sheets, reviews galactic law, and speed reads his way through the last few years of the senate’s bills.

He pulls out of his closet possessions unbecoming of Jedi—things he has kept because he has been unable to let go of the fear of . There’s his old XX sniper rifle from Melida-Daan. A blaster from here. A vibroblade from there.

And there’s the armour he got from Mandalore. It’s painted in green for duty and erin for peace, the order’s sigil on the pauldron. He can hardly stand to look at it. Standing here, at the eve of marching to war that is to be fought with slave soldiers, he has no right to wear any of it. Not the green of duty, for he has forsaken his duty to protect all sentient life in accepting command of an army of slaves. Not the erin of peace, for he is marching off to fight a war to force worlds to stay in a republic they don’t wish to be a part of. Not the sigil of the Jedi order, for he has already forsaken his vows in these actions—and has already decided to forsake his duty to the republic.

Obi-Wan strips the beskar bare. Before refitting the armour, going through the straps, buckles, replacing worn parts and reconditioning the rest. He spends sleepless nights in the salles relearning to fight in armour.

“Paint? I painted it when I was seventeen. I, ah, stripped it when I accepted the draft.” Kenobi grimaces, but sets his jaw and continues. “I couldn’t keep the paint I had after that.” There’s an odd, bitter clang to his words.

[buckybarnes--and-noble]

Food Fight

The clones x Reader (✨platonic✨)

This fic is completely self indulgent. It’s pretty random, I’ll give it that. But hey, better than not posting anything.

Warnings: None.

This is proofread! Let me know if I missed something :)

Reader is female

“Now, you may have my saber, but I have your. . . this thing.”

“Kid, that’s a waffle.”

“Yeah, well- I have it.”

“Alright, vod’ika—put the weapon down.”

“And if i don’t?”

“Then I’m gonna-“

The splat of the waffle rang throughout the mess hall. It slid down in a gooey slop onto the glossy white floor, Fives staring in shocked silence while Hardcase and Wrecker melted with laughter.

“Oh, you didn’t.” Fives seethed, seizing the soggy waffle off of the floor with a sticky smirk.

Rex exhaled while setting his ration bar back onto the tray in front of him.

“How long have they been at this?” Inquired Hunter, taking his place between Rex and Echo.

“Approximately fifteen minutes and thirty nine seconds,” Tech answered without as much as a glance from his data pad. Fives nailed the young padawan in the chest with the waffle. With a dramatic flop to the floor, she grasped for a ketchup bottle and shot it up into the air with a defeated cry. Hardcase snatched the bottle from the girl and shot a red stream directly at Echo, who immediately ducked for cover.

Tup gulped, nervously observing his vode as they continued their mini food fight. “Um, Captain? should they be-“

The sound of two sets of plastroid armor clanking to the ground rang throughout the mess hall. Each clone seated at the table was met with the sight of Y/N and Fives rolling around on the slick flooring, shoving a waffle in one another’s faces.

“You take that back, di’kut.” The padawan spat, seizing the waffle Fives had once wielded and throwing it to the side.

“Oh, I’ll take it back; once you-“

“All right soldiers,” Rex intervened “save it for the field.”

Two pairs of eyes drifted up to their captain, each of them slowly lifting themselves onto their feet.

Hardcase lit up. “Does that mean I can bring a waffle-“

“That is the worst idea you’ve even had.”

“I was only asking!”

“And the answer is no.”

Defeated, Hardcase slunk back to his place next to Wrecker, who gave his brother a consoling pat on the back. Fives and Y/N—now a sticky mess of blacks and armor—received mischievous looks from one another.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you two get any ideas, understood?” he said, jabbing a finger in their direction.

The duo instantly deflated as Jesse chuckled under his breath.

“Trust me, sarge, those two can and will find a way to bring a load of waffles to the field.”

“That’s what concerns me,” Hunter retorted, finishing off the last of his food.

Echo frowned at the state of his vode. “Look at you; you’re both a mess. We’ve got to leave for recon in fifteen minutes,” he chastised.

Fives and Y/N smirked in one another’s direction.

“Race ‘ya to the refresher!”

“Hey- no fair! You got a head start!”

Laughter rang throughout the halls of the cloning facility, and those who remained in the mess either rolled their eyes in annoyance, or shook their heads in silent amusement.

[yukipri]

The Prime Override - Chapter 75 is up!

Obi-Wan - The Marketplace, Part II

Thanks so much for your patience! Didn't manage to get this up last night bc AO3 was down, so here it is now!

Not the longest chapter, but I hope it has some exciting bits!

This chapter: Obi-Wan's ditched by the Mand'alor, but quickly gains other company.

He tries to imagine Jango Fett’s face under the beskar bucket of the man who had just stood beside him. Tries to remember how he looked under the harsh white lights of his apartment in Tipoca City, tries to remember how he looked behind Count Dooku, in that balcony high above the stadium where Obi-Wan was to be executed. Jango Fett’s scarred face had been handsome but in a rough sort of way, and mature too, showing his years of experience in a way that none of the vod’e’s faces can. He had been older than Obi-Wan by perhaps a decade; one of the reasons why Obi-Wan could never mistake one of the Vode for their template, when they were all so incredibly young. The thought makes him pause; he remembers how young Waxer looks next to Boil now, how other vod’e he remembers from the war like Ponds also look far younger. Those who’d died. Those in vessels. Does death mean a transference to younger clone body? If so, what does Jango Fett look like now? Perhaps he actually does look more like one of Obi-Wan’s men than the older Jango Fett Obi-Wan is trying and failing to imagine. If he took off his bucket and appeared in front of Obi-Wan, bare-faced and wearing something that doesn’t mark his status, would Obi-Wan even recognize him as Jango Fett? Or would he think him just another vod?

> > Read Ch 75 on AO3

Can't wait for the next chapter?

> > Read Ch 76 early access on Patreon

[merlyn-bane]

never have i ever,, written a fic about young cody and young obi meeting? 🥺

Thanks for playing!! 🥰🥰

So I don't really have anything for a young Cody and young Obi meeting (which is kind of a surprise, actually) but what I DO have is basically the ~1k prologue for an AU where Jango comes to his senses on Kamino and takes the baby CCs and runs, and hides out in Little Keldabe on Coruscant where he ends up buying a restaurant.

(I'm obsessed with those little hole in the wall family owned restaurants that still serve traditional foods, and I loved the idea of the Boys<3 growing up in that environment. This is also Codywan, and the idea of Jango's fucking consternation at one of his sons dating a Jedi is hilarious to me. He would be so damn MAD)

Anyway! Here goes! :D

It’s the crying, that does Jango in.

Babies cry. Boba cries. All the time it had felt like at first. Still often enough now; when he’s hungry or when he’s tired or just because he feels like it.

The clones don’t cry.

Not 6454, when Jango watched one of the Kaminii’s two-bit trainers scream in his face for failing to complete a course in time because he’d stopped to help one of his vode despite being so small they’d had to kneel down to do it. He’d just gone quiet.

Not 3636, when the Kaminii realized he was blind in one eye and put him through a barrage of tests to see if he could function well enough that they didn’t have to invest in a new one. Jango hadn’t been sure if they meant the eye or the boy. ‘36 had just scowled and endured it. 

Not even Twos-Four when he’d fallen off of a platform running balance drills and carved his face open. He’d just sat there while the trainer sprayed it with antiseptic and stuck some butterfly stitches on it and then asked after his brothers.

And they’re not crying now, watching one of the longnecks try to take one of their brothers. 7567, blond as Arla had been and with a temper to match. Jango wonders which had done him in.

The other boys surround him in a circle, standing in ready stances they’ve only just barely begun learning. To a man they’re all snarling; except ‘67, for once, who just looks scared.

And still not so much as a whimper.

Jango only came down here because he—he doesn’t know, actually. But he has a decision to make now. 

He knows his buir wouldn’t approve of—anything he’s done here, really, once he took that Ka’ra-damned contract, but. Letting them kill an adiik? Just barely more than an ikaad?

Jango watches the Kaminoan rear back as 2224 snaps at their hand with his teeth, and knows that his decision is made.

---

The alphas don’t come with them. They’re all young adults, technically, Jango thinks. The very first batch. The trial run, he thinks with a twisting stomach, before they started looking to begin operations in earnest. Boba and the first CC batch had only come once the alphas reached adolescence without any major ‘complications’. 

They’re young adults, and they barely know Jango because he hadn’t had Boba yet back then and still took other jobs frequently. He’s not totally sure how he managed to convince them to trust him with the Littles, but eventually, they do. 

He takes the boys—all seven with Boba, Ka’ra—and runs to the first place he can think of where they would be near impossible to find even with Tyrannus’s connections: Coruscant. There are an uncountable number of people inhabiting the city-planet, making it incredibly easy to vanish among them. 

And everybody always forgets about Little Keldabe.

---

The boys need names. Have needed them, really, but there’s little he can do about it now and he certainly can’t call them by number around civilians if he wants them to stay under the radar. 

Clones are illegal in the Republic, after all. They prefer all of their slave trade money filtered through shell corporations first. 

‘24 is easy. Jango calls him Kote, for glory. ‘67 can’t say it yet; it comes out closer to Co-dee, and ‘67 is ‘24’s favorite, and so Cody it is. 

‘67 gets Rex, whether they can pronounce it yet or not. He’s bitten Jango no less than five times since he took the boys from their dorm. He wishes Arla could’ve met the little terror. 

The next three all come from childrens’ stories Jango pirates onto a spare datapad. Something about a boy, Ponds—‘54—and his animal friends. Wolf—‘36, who continues to grumble until Jango finds a spelling he apparently approves of despite his inability to read—and Fox—1010, which does not surprise Jango as much as it should. The little shit is fucking stealthy. 

‘52, well. Jango gives up and reads all kinds of stupid shit off of those cheesy holonet Mommy pages until something sticks and the newly-dubbed Bly starts fucking responding to something. 

---

Money is, blessedly, perhaps the one thing Jango doesn’t have to worry about right away. He was maybe the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy before he went to ground—that’s why he’d been sought after for the clone job in the first place—and his rates had reflected that. 

And he never was stupid enough to keep his funds where a dissatisfied client of a high enough profile would be able to find them. 

He buys them an apartment first; outright and in cash, and on the condition that the previous owner forget he ever owned it. It doesn’t have enough rooms for all of the boys to have their own—such a thing does not exist on Coruscant, he’s fairly certain, and especially not in the only district therein that he’s willing to live in—but the bigger boys refuse to sleep unless they’re in a big pile on the floor at first anyway. Boba is developmentally young enough that he sleeps in Jango’s room with him. 

Figuring out how he’ll continue to support them all is the next concern. Even his not insubstantial holdings won’t cover him and seven boys forever, and it’s not like he can take bounty hunting back up with all of them needing him here. 

And then a restaurant goes up for sale just weeks after they get settled in. It’s one of those rare freestanding ones, an ugly little pill-shaped building hogging up valuable space on the concourse. It used to be a café, apparently, but the native Coruscanti owners apparently couldn’t hack it in Mando Town. Jango doesn’t know the first thing about fancy caf, but he does know good Mando food—and he’ll have seven hands to help him, soon enough. 

He calls it Evaar’yaim. Their new home.

[sixtysixproblems]

disaster ramble about my headcanons for how the batch got their names & etc*

*this is related to a fic of mine (fluorescent mistakes/mistakesverse), tho having read it is 100% unnecessary to understand the post, and I'll likely use some of these for other fics as well.

the only HCs you (sort of) "need" to know is cody, fox, and wolffe are "triplets", and i say fuck canon and Rex is 3 years (1.5 years) younger than CC batch. bits in italics/blue are less applicable outside of the fic itself, but still make sense without the context or i give the context.

Cody (Kote) - got the name Kote pretty young, changed it to Cody tho around 16-17ish?

>Jango gave it to him, when he was 10ish..? Possibly even a little younger. Jango intended as more of a nickname for just him to use, but obv it didn’t stay that way. Was very proud of "earning it" for a long time. >Changed it to Cody later in a not-so-subtle rebellion against Jango/the Kaminoans, and partially in an attempt to choose something for himself/have a part of his identity outside of his skill as a commander. >Still uses Kote on very rare occasions with the batch and other old friends from kamino ONLY (only exceptions to use it more being Fox who gets to call him Kot'ika, Rex who get a free pass for anything/everything) >his name backstory is probably most plot relevant cause his arc deals a LOT with identity issues & such. Might even have a flashback to him snapping at Jango that "it's cody now" > The final nail in the hammer for changing it was probably Ponds getting reconditioned**, and him partially blaming Jango for it :(

Fox - before rex was around (so pre 13)

>Got called a “fox” due to him being a sneaky clever bastard, but it wasn’t a nickname until he made it one >chose it not long after cody,  probably? >this was a pretty big deal since it wasn't a) widely used by trainers, mostly other vode, and b) he made it clear it was his name. not a nickname, not a title, his name, as opposed to his designation number >I'm considering backstory that him & colt worked together to come up with the idea to bulshit the kaminoans with "it's actually more tactically useful in battle to have recognizable nicknames for the clones", which is true, but also to limit consequences for getting caught using names. >in addition to joint guilt in the creation of Ponds's name, he's also responsible for Thorn's name by repeatedly calling him a "prick" and "thorn in my ass" on kamino (tho that's it's own post lmao).

Wolffe - before rex was around (so pre 13)

>inspired by fox, but also spells it that way to spite fox (cody gave him the idea for it lol) >cody was annoyed that wolffe clearly chose it to match fox (bitey twins, lol) since they're supposed to be triplets. wolffe enjoys pissing him off but didn't want him to feel actually left out...so cody got to help with the god awful spelling. >confused some people into thinking it was pronounced "wolf-y". this is brought to you by my friend reading fluorescent before any other piece of star wars media and assuming that. >i love the potential meaning u can take from it of him being family/"pack" oriented and how that translates over to him being very loyal, protective, etc. Aka on the surface level he's this scary grumpy guy, but deep down is just a bit of a softie/just wants to keep his family safe. >but on a less serious note, i also love all the jokes i can make cough cough omegaverse

Rex - age 10-11ish

>encouraged to pick a name out by cody to help cope with being newly reconditioned/placed with the CCs as i imagine there’d be some identity issues after that :(  >perhaps nicknamed king or little prince or smth and that's where he got the rex idea. tho tbh i have no idea >abridged fluorescent lore is that he was a particularly talented/borderline defective CT, tho albiet from a "troublesome" batch. consequently he was reconditioned pretty heavily around 9-10ish, and Jango came up with the great (sarcasm) idea to use him sort of as a "test" of what CTs were actually capable of, and had him mixed into CC training. >this is how he met the batch, after not remembering his own/many details of his life pre-recon. they were supposed to train him once or twice, but predictably adopted him.

Bly - after rex arrived (and rex got his name) but not long after, so 13?

>litterally just chose a name they liked the sound of and thought fit them like a sane person. literally the only one to pick a normal name a normal way out of the whole batch. we stan >i like the hc being short for smth (like butterfly, etc) but i dont think it works for fluorescent :/ maybe in another fic. >possible them & rex worked together to find names that fit them bc i think that'd be sweet. i dont focus on their relationship much at all so maybe a little bonding, albiet in backstory only, is in order. >she's very likely gonna be trans (mtf) in fluorescent (tho it wasn't always the plan + she is not out yet (to herself or others) in the fic itself) so I'm considering implying Bly is traditionally a female/gender-neutral name in whatever star wars culture it's "from" (aka i make shit up) >considering a joke where someone asks her if she's picking a new one after she comes out and she's like "absolutely not, it was so hard the first time i refuse to do it again".

Ponds - last to get one, 14-15ish?

>went by “four” or 54 before he got his name. >Bly sometimes jokingly called him “squared”/ ”square”/ ”cubed”/etc when they were tweens cause of the two fours in his designation number + 64 is a perfect square in math. the vode assumed he'd pick one or one would eventually catch on permanently. >...and then he shoved three separate trainers in a pond, on three separate trips no less, during off-planet training (and since I'm guessing off-planet training was very rare, wtf buddy) >and the triplets went “you know what would be funny” and just. Picked it for him, and wouldn't stop calling him that, and eventually it caught on. And there was nothing he could do about it <3 >**yes, he was reconditioned at 16-17ish. Yay....Not much of a spoiler hopefully? this may somehow be related to why he was the last to "choose" (read: accept defeat) a name, despite being a outspoknen/protective ori'vod nightmare for the Kaminoans. >dw it's not too angsty. they didn't fuck with his memories much, and were trying to change his behavior to be "less inclined to rebelliousness/contempt for authority". And if you've read his arc in fluorescent, you know they failed spectacularly at making him less likely to break the rules. >tbh I think its fitting for (how I write) his character that his name was chosen by his siblings. i think he was and is "salty" about it, but not-so-secretely touched and/or proud about it.

this whole thing was very ramble-y and i'll be surprised if more than 2 people read it, lmao, but i couldn't stop myself. a lot of this is sort of "background" and may not be actually referenced in the fic itself...but who knows.

[voodoo-writer]

Found Family in Star Wars

What I really love about Star Wars is how much of the fandom is fully into the found family trope.

Like, lots of people may complain that Din and Grogu is the most generic trope that Disney could have gone for, but that’s how it always was. How a lot of the fandom truly sees Star Wars for.

Aliit ori'shya tal'din – «Family is more than blood».

The Vode. The biggest family you could have asked for. Thousands of overprotective for each other brothers, who are ready to make anything possible for each other. Waxer and Boil almost adopting Numa (yes please). The Bad Batch that are literally five older brothers taking care of one little sister.

True Mandalorians. Like Jaster Mereel, Kal Skirata, young Jango, Walon Wau, Mij Gilamar, Vhonte Tervho – all of them stay true to Resol'nare, be it an au with no Kamino or with it. You get 1 True Mandalorian within a radius of child in distress and now you have an angry buir ready to kill. It is literally in the marriage vows – We will raise warriors.

The Jedi Order. They have their flaws (who does not?) but they are one huge dysfunctional family. From Crèche masters, Knights, Masters, Guardians, Younglings and Padawans. They protect their own. You can say anything about «no attachment rule» but I feel like having an amazing lineage with lots of padawan-siblings, masters, uncle/aunt-masters, grandmasters that ground you must be an amazing feeling. We do know that the Jedi still fail their own in lots of ways, but like if there were no Sith and they were living not in the middle of the Republic imagine how more peaceful and truer to the code their lives would be?

The Corps. We don’t get a lot of information about them but I adore everyone who writes, shares headcanons, draws them. They are still Jedi, though they have different specializations. They give aged out younglings new purpose and they stay true to the Force. To be honest, since the Corps do not live on Coruscant I believe before 66 they were definitely even more attuned to the Force then the Order (cause again, one annoying Sheev)

The Ghost Crew. Do I even need to say anything? They are an amazing family that pulled through a lot of obstacles (and sadly losses). They all lost something even before getting together but staying together was their biggest strength.

The Opress brothers. Even though we did not get a lot of Feral in TCW we got enough of Maul and Savage. Even with all of the evilness and full sith-crazy mode they were brothers till the end. If it was not for Dooku and Sidious (and well mother Talzin and nightsisters) they would be still together and be strong.

The Original Skywalker/Solo family. Han’s and Luke’s brotherhood even before romance with Leia started. Leia and Luke bonding even before they knew they were blood family. Chewie protecting his family, even the Droids like C3PO and R2.

And the list goes on. I probably missed out on a lot of families so if you want to add some to the list – do reblog/comment!

 In the end I just want to say that even though a lot of people say that our fandom is one of the most toxic ones I still adore everyone who spends their time writing, drawing, doing cosplay – literally anything fandom related. Even if you don’t create and just read – supporting creators makes all of this worth it.

Please, continue creating more stories about any characters, any family, anything that you love in this fandom. There always will be people who will appreciate anything you do to help our fandom thrive.

[squad-724]

I'd love to know what your Vampire AU wip is about! :)

“Tech, we're pinned! Can't you cut off this part of the facility?!” “It's a prison Hunter! Their controls have multiple safety components that I need to override manually for each individual corridor!” The five clones, members of Bad Batch, were currently running from the droids of the Citadel. Ironic, wasn't it? A few months back Echo ‘died’ during a mission here. Now, with his new squad, he was once again running through the dark gray halls, this time his enemies were the Jedi, the same he sacrificed himself for. But not anymore. When the Batch received a coded message from Rex they got themselves into the craziest mission they have ever heard about. Torrent’s general had been killed less than a year into the war, protecting the chancellor from an assassin. His secret was never revealed to the public, only known by the jedi Order and his family, the 501st. That he was a vampire, a sith made species created to hunt down Jedi, believed to be exterminated with their masters. Over millennium after one was recorded a Jedi of the name Qui Gon Jinn found a young boy, able to transform his arms into bat wings, being used as an execution pet by a Hutt. After killing the slug the Jedi took the child to the temple. Anakin always said the Jedi were reluctant in him joining the order, the reactions to him trying to find friends raging from fear to outward hostility. It took the vode weeks to make their general spend his free time outside his quarters, eating and training on his own. If not for Rex catching their Jedi rummaging through their synth blood freezers they would probably never know what he was. And none of them cared. Not for his inability to stand in the sunlight, his wings, long fangs or how his eyes shone in the darkness. Every clone knew how their general would slice the palm of his hand to feed them his blood when the medics weren't able to arrive in time. None of them flinched when a shadow flew over their heads in the night sieges. They knew how to calm him down after his senses went haywire, wrapping him in blankets and shutting down the lights. The information of his sacrifice for the chancellor hit the 501st hard. They were assigned to many Jedi after that, all quickly resigning from the leadership of the chaotic battalion. The clones that served under Skywalker had a small bat painted on their buckets, to honor their late general. After a dozen Jedi refused to lead them, the leadership was assigned to Rex, who made them one of the most efficient night legions, specialising in battles taken in darkness. Thanks to that the troopers of 501st were immediately able to recognise their brothers on Umbara, preventing a bloody friendly fire Krell sent them to. The traitor was their last Jedi general. The captain turned commander was hit by Skywalker's death the hardest, the symbol of the bat taking most of his chest plate, over his heart. Only the closest of troopers to him knew how close that relationship was. That's why, when commander Fox called him over a year after Skywalker's death to tell him his cyare was alive, Rex began to act immediately.

Part 1 >:]

Rexwalker vampire Anakin au

[sailorkamino]

you can sit with us

wildflower masterlist

relationships: twi'lek!jedi!reader x bad batch, background reader x plo koon & 104th battalion [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

summary: you're knight aola, a jedi with an abnormally strong connection to the living force and commander of the 104th. a reassigment leads you to kamino where you meet some equally unique (and chaotic) men, clone force 99.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: no use of y/n (reader will be called commander aola or smth flower related), proective!wolffe, shinies are in love with you, one mention of slavery, set 1 yr into clone wars so no echo yet

ryl translations: aola - flower

mando'a translations: Gar copad at jorhaa'ir laam, vod - you want to speak up, bro?

gif found on pinterest! credits to owner

When Yoda suggests getting your own special forces unit after your knighting you know you had to meet them before making any decisions.

You decide to go to Kamino rather than have them come to Coruscant, that way you can train together. Besides, you like to visit Kamino between assignments when you have time. Shaak says it’s good for the clones’ morale… mainly because they start showing off as soon as you enter the room. Plus the employees are on their best behavior when they have an audience.

That’s how you find yourself a few days later in a large mess hall. You can feel hundreds of brown eyes on you as you hold your tray. Beside you Wolffe glares at as many of them as possible. Your co-commander had brought you to the ocean planet to meet your new squad and ship, he only needed to drop you off but he seemed determined to stay as long as possible.

You assume it has to do with the young shinie’s who keep ogling you. A few have already approached you in the hallways on the way here but Wolffe took it upon himself to scare them away.

It's not hard to spot clone force 99 amongst the sea of identical haircuts. Like all vode they're completley unique in the force: from deep browns, to vibrant pinks, to dusty yellows, to blood reds. Oddly enough no one else is sitting with them. You lean towards Wolffe's ear as you get closer to the table. “Play nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

You hold back a snort at his deadpan tone. You pull your lips into a polite smile as you come to a stop. “Is this seat taken?”

Instead of a verbal response the four clones gawk at you. The pricking of jealous stares from all around the mess hall make your lekku twitch but you don’t let any discomfort show on your face. You once again remind yourself these men have very limited experience with nat borns.

“Yeah, of course, general!” The big one answers. He hastily makes room on the bench, almost shoving his grey haired brother to the floor in the process.

You hold back a laugh as you sit beside him yet the new title rings in yours ears. You never wanted to be a solider in the first place and now you're a general? You do your best to release your feelings to the force before introducing yourself.

Wolffe still hasn’t spoken. You subtly kick his boot under the table. “Commander Wolffe. He/him."

“You want to sit with us?” The goggled one asks with a cocked head, reminding you of a curious purgil. Ah, he must be Tech. “I do,” you respond confidently. Although you’re a bit confused they don’t know who you are, weren’t they briefed on their new officer? They probably weren’t shown a holo of you though. Well, this should be fun.

Your response seems to break the long haired clone out of his stupor. “I’m Sergeant Hunter. This is Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech. We're all he/him."

You note it will be easy to remember who specializes in what. You can sense the batch glancing at Wolffe’s cybernetic eye and you know he can too. They haven’t been deployed yet so it’s most likely the worst injury they’ve ever seen. Without looking up from his food the commander simply says: “lightsaber.”

The clones around you not so subtly glance to the two sabers at your waist. You slap his armored shoulder indignantly. “You can’t just say lightsaber, it looks like I did it!” You look at the curious shinies around you, tilting your head in Wolffe’s direction, “that would be courtesy of Dooku’s apprentice, Ventrass. But I think it just adds to his roguishly handsome vibe.”

Wolffe scowls but his cheeks flush at the compliment. You were there for every step of his recovery and since then you had taken it upon yourself to be his personal hype man. Plus seeing the stiff commander flustered is just too entertaining to pass up.

“Is their name really Ventrass?” Tech asks curiously.

“No, it’s Ventress, but she’s a real ass. Hence the name.”

You look down at your tray as they process the new info. “Ugh, this food should be considered a war crime. Remind me to never complain about the temple’s cafeteria again.” Wolffe doesn’t react, long used to your non sequiturs. The other clones share bewildered looks.

"As soon as I take you boys off world I’m getting you real food.” You add for good measure. Now you can literally feel the confusion radiating off of them.

"What do you mean 'off world’?” Hunter asks.

You look at him curiously. Okay maybe they don’t know they’re getting a new officer at all. “Wait, you guys haven’t talked to master Ti yet?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Oh, well that explains your confusion. We’re gonna be working together.”

Hunter and Tech’s eyes widen comically. Crosshair squints suspiciously. Wrecker chokes on his mystery meat. You pat his large back to help it pass, wordlessly handing him some juice. “Sorry boys, it was kind of a last minute assignment but I was hoping you’ve been briefed.”

A stunned silence follows that quickly becomes awkward. You clasp your hands in front of you, “well that’s alright! After you eat we can run a sim together!”

Your comm pings. You've never been so greatful for a distracion because clone force 99 is still gawking at you. Then you see the sender and any gratitude drains from your body. You roll your eyes without realizing it (a habit you picked up from your co-commander.)

"How do I diplomatically tell Tuan We to kriff off?” You ask said clone.

Wolffe's lips twitch up, which is his version of laughing. “Negotians are your department, sir.”

“You don’t like ‘em either?” Wrecker asks, wonder in his voice.

You lean towards him with a conspiratorial whisper. “Jedi aren’t supposed to be vengeful but between us I’m about one interaction away from drop kicking the prime minister.” Pride feels your chest at the shocked laughs you recieve. Even Crosshair and Wolffe are unable to hide their amusement.

Another alert from your comm has you prepared to cut it in half with one of your saber's but then you see the sender: Master Shaak Ti! You have always been quite close to the togruta who brought you to the jedi order (and subsequently saved you from a life of slavery.) You haven’t got to see her in person in forever. She must’ve been pretty busy lately if she wasn’t able to brief your new unit on your arrival.

You look at the table of clones with a cocky grin. “Hey, have you boys ever seen a lightsaber duel?”

You pointedly ignore Wolffe’s eye roll. You’re convinced his cybernetic eye is gonna get stuck in that position one day.

💀

Shaak Ti happens to be a master of makashi, aka the form both Dooku and Ventress prefer. That’s why neither of you are trying to end the duel by winning. It’s more of a studying opportunity. Especially considering you have a nasty habit of pissing off sith. To be fair what was Master Plo expecting when he asked Obi-Wan to teach you about negotiation?

You flip to avoid a graceful lunge from the general. Her violet eyes shine with pride. “Your ataru has greatly improved, young one.”

The slightly breathless praise has you grinning, feeling like an eager youngling again. You skillfully dodge her green blade, “am I tiring you out, master?”

She tries to appear disapproving but you can feel her amusement. “A jedi should be humble.”

You beam at her through the clash of your sabers. “I’ll have you know humility is one of my best traits.”

A beeping goes off from Tech’s datapad, alerting the end of your allotted sparring time. You come to a halt. The adrenaline of a good duel leaves you both glowing softly in the force.

“Woah! That was awesome!”

The bellowing voice makes you grin. “Thank you, Wrecker."

You power down one of your lightsabers, clipping it back to your hip. You extend your now free hand as you call your water bottle into it. Shaak Ti bows, bidding goodbyes to you and the clones before making her leave.

“What is ataru?” Tech asks, fingers stilled above his datapad screen.

You take a few gulps before answering. “Form four of lightsaber combat. It’s known as the aggressive form but really it’s more acrobatic than anything.”

Wolffe mumbles something along the lines of ‘show off.’ You aren’t surprised. He’s never been a fan of ataru. He thinks all the flips are impractical. “Gar copad at jorhaa'ir laam, vod?” You tease. Your eyes flick to the bad batch, noting their confusion in the force. “Do you speak Mando’a?” You ask and immediately regret it. You didn’t mean to put them on the spot.

“Some. Tech knows the most,” Hunter answers gruffly. His tone makes you think there’s a deeper meaning to them not knowing the language. You and Wolffe share a curious look but neither of you say anything. “Well I just told him to speak up,” you translate a bit awkwardly. You don't want them to feel excluded.

“How many lightsaber forms are there?” Tech suddenly asks.

You shoot the genius a thankful look for breaking the tension. “Seven. I can show you if you’re interested?”

“That would be fascinating!”

You’re starting to really like Tech’s enthusiasm. You glance at his brothers. They don’t necessarily feel bored but they aren’t as excited as Tech. “You boys don’t have to stay for this if you don’t want to.”

“Are you gonna do more tricks?” Wrecker asks. You can’t help but chuckle. Despite his size he reminds you of the younglings back at the temple. You miss them.

“I am.”

“Then I’ll stay!”

Crosshair tries to seem uninterested. “I don’t have any other plans,” he simpers. You can tell bonding with this vod won’t be easy but you’ve always liked a challenge. You look at Hunter expectantly since he has yet to speak up. “Sounds interesting," he shrugs.

“Great. Tech, you can record this if you like.” He flashes a small, grateful smile as he clicks away on his pad. You leave your shoto by your waist, igniting your regular saber as you fall into a familiar stance. “The first form is the most basic, shii-cho…”

As you move through katas you know you’ve found your answer for Master Yoda.

[dangraccoon]

Can I pleeeeease request a thing about how you think Cody got his scar?

Glory

Request for @techs-goggles9902 Love you, Sha! 💛

Cadet Commanders

Warnings: child abuse (children getting beaten up by a corrupt instructor (they're around 15-16 biologically in this)), blood, knives. This is kind of a dead dove do not eat situation.

Mando'a Guide: shebs - butt par ner vode - for my brothers verd'ika - private, or "little soldier" affectionately vor entye - thank you (literally "I accept a debt") alor - leader

“C’mon, Foxy! Kick his shebs!” Bly shouted from the bench.

“Bly,” Cody hissed. “You need to shut up.”

Fox, slightly distracted by his brother’s loud disruption, caught a swift kick to his shins, practice blade flying to the side as he fell.

Their instructor held his own practice blade to Fox’s neck.

“Do you yield?” he asked calmly. 

Fox simply nodded, struggling to catch his breath. 

“I can’t hear you,” he growled, the tip of the blunt blade pressing against the skin of Fox’s throat. 

“Yes, sir,” Fox rasped. “I yield.”

The instructor pulled the blade away, looking out to the others. 

“Who’s left?” he called, impatiently, his eyes zoning in on Bly and Cody. “Come on, someone’s gotta disappoint me next. I don’t have all day.”

Bly almost growled a little, his brows scrunching together. He stood, walking towards the training mat at the center of the room.

“Well, well, well,” their instructor chuckled darkly. “And which one are you?”

“Bly,” he answered, picking up his practice blade. He fell easily into a ready position. 

The instructor rolled his eyes. “That is not what I asked, clone,” he spat. 

Bly’s nostrils flared as he looked up at the bounty hunter. “CC-5052, sir.” 

“Ah, so it will be disappointing,” he sneered. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Bly took a deep breath to center himself, just like Cody had shown him. The practice began, the instructor quickly advancing on the attack, forcing Bly to take the defensive. 

He lasted longer than he had the last time, and a tiny bit longer than Fox had, but soon the bounty hunter had him pressed to the wall with his hand around Bly’s throat, blade on the mat. 

“Pathetic,” he sneered, barely looking as he released the young clone. Bly’s knees hit the ground hard as he coughed and gasped for air, making Cody wince. 

“You,” the instructor commanded, pointing his blade at Cody.

“You got this, Codes,” Wolffe whispered as Cody passed him. 

He got to the mat and faced their teacher. He could feel his blood boiling just below the surface of his skin as Fox and Gree helped Bly up and back to the benches on the side of the training room. 

“Begin,” the instructor said, already lunging for his student before the word had fully left his mouth. Either he didn’t notice that his student didn’t have his practice blade out, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. 

Cody ducked the attack, throwing his shoulder into the instructor’s gut and knocking him off balance. They tumbled to the floor, the young clone on top of his teacher as they struggled. 

Distantly, he could hear his brothers’ cheers from the sideline, but he couldn’t let that distract him. No, he had to put everything into this match. He had to show this sleemo that he and his brothers were to be respected.

He could feel the instructor’s knee slam against his back, and he grunted as a sharp pain accompanied the impact. But he ignored it. He fought to get the instructor’s arm under his knee, pinning it to the mat and began to do the same with the other, but the instructor struggled against him. The instructor’s hand landed on Cody’s face, pressing hard against it. Cody growled in frustration, pushing himself even harder. He had to win this match. Par ner vode.

The instructor bucked his shoulders, trying to throw the cadet off, but he stuck through it, grabbing at his wrist and - finally! 

Cody caught the instructor’s arm by the wrist, slamming it hard onto the mat, the practice blade clattering to the floor. Once he’d wrestled the instructor’s arm beneath him, he picked up the practice blade, pointing the tip to the instructor’s neck. 

“Do you yield, sir?” he asked simply, fighting to disguise the fatigue in his voice. 

“Fine,” the instructor snarled. “Now get the kriff off of me.”

He hesitated, but let the man up. 

“All of you get out of my sight,” he growled, brushing the dust from his shirt.

His brothers were all but cheering by the time they left the training room, but Cody felt uneasy. That feeling carried him through the rest of the day, following him wherever he went.

“CC-2224, report to hangar 14D,” the PA system sounded. The rest of his squad gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Fox asked, clearly picking up on his brother’s discomfort.

“Better go alone,” he frowned. “Thanks, though, Fox.”

The eyes of his squad followed him until the door shut behind him.

It wasn’t long of a walk to the hangar, but he couldn’t help the way his nerves bundled in the pit of his stomach. The tension rose into his shoulders and jaw as he walked into the hangar.

There stood his hand-to-hand instructor, but that didn’t surprise him. He figured he’d have to pay for his victory in training earlier.

“CC-2224,” the instructor drawled, not bothering to turn and face him. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered carefully. He didn’t want to earn any more ‘reinforcement’.

“Since you seem to have your hand-to-hand training down, I thought perhaps you might like a bit more of a challenge.”

Cody didn’t like the man’s tone. It sounded too cordial for this particular instructor.

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

The instructor chuckled darkly. “A more… realistic fight,” he murmured, turning and pouncing at Cody.

He caught his wrists, but not before it nicked his uniform. They struggled for a moment, but the instructor used Cody’s hold on his wrists to pull the young clone towards him, slamming a knee into the boy’s gut.

Cody coughed hard, doubling over. The instructor took the advantage, pushing him back, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Today is the day you’ll learn,” the instructor spat, landing a swift uppercut to the same spot. “You’ll learn what it is to respect your betters.” Another hit. “To know your place.” Another. “Your worth.” He gripped the cadet’s arm, twisting it painfully. “That you are utterly disposable.”

With a punch to his cheek, Cody was down. He crumpled to the floor, breathing no longer coming easily to him. His vision felt blurry. His heart was pounding in his ears. There was something warm and wet dripping down his temple- was that blood? There was a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Pathetic,” his instructor huffed out. Laying on the cold durasteel of the hangar, curled in on himself, bleeding, panting, and nearly crying in pain, doubt crept into his mind. Maybe he was pathetic. A let-down. A disappointment to his squad. Maybe he was just a number- 2224.

“You know as well as I do just how much the Kaminoans hate imperfection,” the instructor sneered. The sharp hiss of a vibroblade being unsheathed echoed in his ears. “We’ll see how long you last with this.”

The instructor forced him onto his back, arm pressed across his shoulders. Cody’s vision was blurry, but he could just make out the shape of the knife inching towards him. White hot pain seared through his body, originating at his temple. He was sure he cried out, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rush of his own blood. He was moving, struggling against the sadistic man, trying desperately to break free.

The arm holding him down shifted, moving up his body, until it situated across his throat. He was gasping, his hands clawing at his restraint, but it got harder and harder to fight, and he felt a cold, inky, blackness enveloping him.

“That’s enough!”

Cody opened his eyes. The harsh white lights of the medbay burned as he blinked the blurriness away. His head felt like it was being split into a million pieces.

“Good, you’re awake,” said a woman, who just came into focus. He recognized his heavy weapons instructor, and realized she must have been the one to find him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathed, voice hoarse.

“None of that,” she answered. Stern, but kind, as always. “This was not your fault, verd’ika.”

Dinua Atina was a tough Mandalorian warrior, but she seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for the cadets, and the cadets held her in a similar regard.

He sighed. “Is my squad okay?”

“Always worried about ner vode,” she smiled, shaking her head gently.

“W-when-” he stuttered, having trouble pushing the words out of his mouth. “When will I be… decommissioned?”

Alor Atina’s eyes grew wide. “No, verd’ika,” she asserted. “You will not be decommissioned.”

His hand rose to gingerly touch the ruined skin on the left side of face. “But-”

“I have already stopped them from decommissioning you, verd’ika, and the man who did this to you has been removed from Kamino.”

As his eyes shot up to meet her’s, his mind swam as he searched for words that would be enough. “V-vor entye, alor,” he whispered, his Mando’a coming out a little broken.

She smiled widely, her hand grasping his. “No debt is owed, verd’ika. Guide and protect your brothers in the field, and you will bring kote to the Republic.”

She patted his shoulder and began to leave, picking up her helmet from the foot of his cot.

“Alor Atina,” he spoke, stopping her. “What does ‘kote’ mean?”She smiled. “‘Glory’, verd’ika. You will bring glory.”

Thanks for reading! - River

Tales of the Clones Master List DangRaccoon Master List Taglist Form Read on AO3

Requests are OPEN!

Current Request Queue: 0

Tags: @techs-goggles9902 @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @flowered-bicycles @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @error6gendernotfound @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995

[electrikworm]

Good Soldier: Part 3

Relationships: Dogma & Fives, Dogma & Clone oc

Content Warnings: Abuse, Blood and Injury, Burns, Emetophobia

Summary:

Fives notices that something's wrong with Dogma.

Word count: 2,838

Part 1 Part 2

Read on Ao3

There's something wrong with Dogma. Well, Fives knows there's quite a few thing wrong with Dogma, mainly his lack of humor and the fact that he's a stick in the mud. But today, there's something else wrong with the shiny.

Dogma doesn't mumble, he always makes a point of speaking clearly, but during the failed execution, Fives could barely understand a word coming from his mouth.

He was swaying on his feet the entire time, and his expression was vacant. The remark Fives made seemed to not even be heard by the younger clone.

Whilst Fives far from agrees with Dogma's blind loyalty, he still worries for him. The newest batch of shinies the 501st got is so young, far too young to be on active duty already.

It doesn't help that Dogma sometimes reminds Fives of Echo before he learned to loosen up.

“You think he's sick?” Fives halts his pacing to face Jesse.

Confusion crosses his face. “What?”

“Dogma, he looked sick.”

“Fives, what are you karking talking about?” Jesse sighs. “We're still going to get executed, how does that matter now?”

He's right, none of this matters now. But it's easier to worry about his vode, rather than think of his impending death.

Jesse groans. “Besides, Dogma will be all too happy to watch us get killed, no matter how it's done in the end.”

Fives hums in response. He wishes he'd gotten to know the shiny more, maybe convincing him to think about orders before executing them would have been a little easier if he trusted Fives.

But Dogma hardly talks to anyone but Tup, the two of them usually glued to one another. Fives smiles to himself, remembering how inseparable he and Echo were at that age.

Fives eventually sits down next to Jesse. They don't talk much, there isn't anything either of them can say.

Fives isn't shocked to see Rex descend into the bring, but he he somewhat surprised at him wordlessly handing them each a blaster. He never put his armor on faster than now, right before facing Krell.

It's a massacre, heavy losses are taken both in the tower, and when Krell starts trying to run.

They're hot on the general's heels when Dogma steps in their way. He's holding a blaster, the intention of saying something written all over his face.

Just as Fives expects him to do something rash, the shiny goes limp and pitches forwards, blaster clattering from his lose grip.

Kix is at Dogma's side at alarming speed, holding his hand to the young clone's forehead. “Osik, he's running a fever. Go on without me.”

Fives puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. “No, they'll need every medic they can get out there. I'll watch him.”

“Fives...” Kix says, uncertainty in his voice.

“What, don't trust me to look after a sick vod?” Fives laughs, nudging Kix. “I got this! Go get that shabuir. I'll make sure Dogma doesn't do anything stupid in the meantime.”

That seems to spur his vode on, as they take off after Krell with speed.

Dogma's semi conscious as Fives sling one of the shiny's arms across his shoulder. “Come on Dogma, you can't stay here.” Dogma mutters something in response, groaning as Fives moves him. “Yeah, I know, I know. It's never fun being sick.”

It's quite common for shinies to get sick not long after they're deployed. The Kaminoans can vaccinate them as much as they like, nothing can really prepare someone for the filth you'll be exposed to during war.

“Not sick.” Dogma hisses, presumably trying to glare at Fives.

“Sure, vod'ika,” Fives say, patting his brother's arm, “you're the absolute pinnacle of good health.”

It's slow going getting Dogma to their temporary medbay. Sweat's started running down the young clone's face, and his eyes droop every few steps. What ever he caught got him bad.

Fives greets clones he knows on the way to Kix' temporary exam station.

He figures Dogma would prefer the meagre amount of privacy of the curtain strung up around that part of the room to sitting on one of the empty beds.

The shiny's far from social.

Manoeuvring Dogma onto the bed is a little difficult. Whilst the young clone is far from heavy, his armor is the same as everyone's. But the actual complication lies in the fact that Dogma's limbs are clearly heavy from exhaustion.

He seems to have barely any control of them.

As soon as Dogma's seated, swaying slightly, his face twists in pain and a quiet wince leaves his lips. Fives can't tell what's wrong with him, so he goes with the most logical assumption.

“Feeling nauseous?” He asks. Dogma nods weakly, discomfort in his expression.

Luckily Kix keeps a bucket on hand for these kinds of situations. Fives deposits it in Dogma's lap. Fives gets a good look at Dogma now. He's a little too small for his armor, and thin.

He looks too worn for a trooper his age, exhausted.

“When's the last time you slept properly? Or ate something?” Fives asks.

As if on cue, Dogma throws up into the bucket. Fives sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Bad timing, trikayc.”

After listening to Dogma spit for a good while, Fives sits onto the bed next to him, leaving enough space between the two of them. He doesn't want to make Dogma uncomfortable.

“It's treason to attack a Jedi.” Dogma slurs, failing to look particularly threatening from where he's hunched over a bucket. Fives sighs.

“He made you kill your brothers Dogma.”

Dogma's face scrunches up. “But he's our general...” He sounds so young, voice breaking as he speaks.

“And he's done nothing but pointlessly put our lives at risk.” Fives speaks firmly but calmly. He doesn't need Dogma seeing him as a threat and trying something dumb. Fives doesn't really want to cuff the shiny.

“But he's a Jedi!”

“What ever he is, he's not on the Republic's side.” Fives words make Dogma's face pinch in concentration. “Think about it, Dogma. Why would someone fighting for the Republic waste soldiers lives by making us fight each other?”

Fives waits for Dogma to consider his words. After a while, Dogma's face falls and he stares at Fives, abject horror in his unfocused eyes. His grip tightens on the bucket.

“You- You think he's a separatist?” Dogma mutters. “I've been loyal to and following a separatist's orders?”

“It's a possibility.” Fives says.

Dogma's breath catches in his chest, tears forming in his eyes. It's not hard to tell he's quickly hurtling towards a panic attack. Fives curses.

He hadn't meant to do this to the shiny, poor kid's having a hard enough time just being sick.

“Think you're gonna throw up again?” Fives asks, pointing at the bucket. When Dogma shakes his head, Fives takes it from him. “You fine with me touching you, vod'ika?”

At first, Dogma cringes back a bit, making Fives anticipate a negative response. But then he nods, vigorous enough to almost be mistaken for enthusiasm.

As soon as Fives has his arms around Dogma, the young clone nearly launches himself at the ARC. Fives would be lying if he said this doesn't surprise him.

Dogma sobs into Fives' shoulder, surely uncomfortable thanks to the armor. When his breathing remains laboured, Fives runs a hand along his back carefully.

“Breath Dogma, that's all you've got to do right now.”

Dogma nods, probably taking the ARC's words as an order. Fives can live with that, as long as it gets the shiny breathing right. He needs to remind Dogma a few more times, but he stops heaving for air soon enough.

The tears do anything but stop though. Fives can feel his blacks getting damp even under the armor.

Confusion crosses Fives mind when he notices that his right glove is wet. He puzzles over why as he pulls it off with his other hand. Did he somehow come in contact with his tear stained shoulder bell?

Fives inhales sharply when the skin under the glove comes to light stained a deep red. Pulling Dogma's face away from his shoulder, Fives looks him over closely.

The shiny looks miserable to be removed from his crying spot. His face is smeared with tears, but free of blood. When Fives puts a hand on the back of Dogma's head, the shiny hisses.

Dogma's hair is slick with blood. Fives' breath catches. How did he miss an injury this bad? It can't have occurred when he passed out in front of them, Dogma fell forwards.

“Did you hit your head during combat?” Fives asks. Dogma shakes his head, but looks unsure of himself. Kark, Fives has to comm Kix.

He's not equipped to deal with head injuries, has no idea of telling how bad this is. He doesn't want to talk with Kix in front of Dogma, he doesn't need the shiny panicking again.

Fives struggles to get Dogma to stop clinging to him at first. “I need you to let go, just for a moment.” As soon as those words are uttered, Dogma obeys, wrapping his arms around himself instead.

Looking out from behind the curtain, Fives scans the room. He spots an ARF trooper he knows, only sporting a broken arm. He'll do.

“Watcher! Stop sulking about your arm and come here!”

Watcher rolls his eyes as he approaches. “What do you need from me?”

“I need you to... watch Dogma for me.” Fives sighs. “You know Dogma, right?

“Who doesn't?” Watcher scoffs. “Hard to miss the shiny with a stick so far up his shebs it's a miracle he can walk straight.”

Fives groans, running his clean hand across his face. “I don't need you to like him, I need you to keep an eye on him. I just noticed he's got a nasty head injury, and I need to comm Kix about it.”

He shows Watcher his bloody hand.

The ARF trooper sighs. “Fine. Watching things is one of my many talents anyway.” A grin spreads on his face.

“Oh yeah? Like you were watching the ground when that root tripped your walker, sending you crashing to the ground?” Fives says with a smile, pointing at Watcher's arm.

“Stow it.” Watcher laughs, following Fives behind the curtain.

Fives touches Dogma's shoulder gently, somehow still making him flinch. “This is Watcher, he's going to stay with you for a while, okay?” Dogma's eyes narrow suspiciously.

“I don't bite, promise.” Watcher lifts his good arm as if he's surrendering.

Dogma scrubs at his tear-stained face hard, making Fives worry he'll hurt himself. “Biting is the least of my worries.”

Watcher shrugs, sitting down next to Dogma. Fives throws a gauze pad at Watcher.

“Try and stop the bleeding, and don't let him fall asleep.” Fives says.

Watcher rolls his eyes before mock saluting. “Sir, yes sir!”

Fives shakes his head as he leaves the two alone. He know Watcher, Dogma's in good hands. Fives activates his comlink.

“Kix, we've got a problem. Dogma's worse off than we thought.”

There's a moment of blaster fire and shouting before Kix speaks. “What do you mean 'worse'?”

“He hit his head, I don't know when, but there's a lot of blood.” Fives can hear Kix swearing. “What do I do?”

“Fives!” Watcher shouts from behind the curtain, preventing Fives from hearing Kix' response.

“Sorry Kix, I need to deal with something real quick.” Fives leans towards the cloth separating him from the two other clones.

“Not now Watcher, I need to hear what Kix is saying!” He hisses.

“No, Fives, you really need to see this. Now.” Watcher's genuine tone laced with concern makes Fives pause.

“Kix, I'll comm you again in a moment.” Fives quickly steps back though the curtain. Watcher's eyes are wide.

His good hand is pressed to the back of Dogma's head, holding the gauze pad in place. He's gesturing to Dogma's neck with his own head.

As Fives gets closer, he can tell what Watcher is referring to. The skin on Dogma's neck looks discoloured. Carefully, Fives pulls the edge of Dogma's blacks aside.

Fives needs a moment just to register what he sees underneath. Dark bruises stain the shiny's neck, in a way only one thing can do: choking. "Wha- I can't even-" Fives struggles to form a coherent sentence as anger rises in his chest. He circles around the two, crouching once he's nearest Dogma. "Who choked you vod'ika?" Dogma's lifts his head to look at Fives. "Who do you think?" He hisses. Fives stand up, clenching his fists. Dogma's right, it's all too obvious. Who other than Pong Krell would do something like this? Filled with the sudden urge to do something, Fives paces, wringing his hands. "That shabuir." Fives hisses. "Did he do anything else to you?" "What do you care?" Dogma glares at Fives before burying his face in Watcher's shoulder again. Watcher shrugs as Fives stares at the shiny, dumbfounded. He didn't expect that. "We'll address that later. I'll update Kix" Fives leaves again. "Kix, I'm back." "I'm already on my way." He sounds out of breath. Is he running? "What? How?" "Tup lured Krell into one of those tentacle creatures. They've got it handled." Fives sighs. "Well we just made a bad discovery." "Elaborate before I start worrying I'll come back to a dead trooper." "Pong Krell choked Dogma, very likely hurt him in other ways too." Fives has to lower the volume of his comlink at Kix's response, not wanting to disturb the whole medbay with the medic's swearing. "Keep him comfortable until I'm there." Kix sighs. "Maybe see if you can get any more info out of him, but don't push him." Fives gives Kix an affirmative answer. Once back in the temporary exam room, Fives sits on Dogma's other side. "Kix is on his way, vod'ika. Is there anything we can do for you whilst we wait?" Dogma flinches away when Fives tries to touch him. "Stop pretending to care, liar!" Dogma spits. "Liar?" Where's that come from? "Osik Fives, what you do to this kid?" Watcher asks, less accusatory than it is genuine interest. Thing is, Fives really doesn't know. He's never spent much time with Dogma before, but he didn't think he'd done something to offend the shiny. Fives has no idea why Dogma thinks he's lied to him. "Dogma, please explain to me what you mean with 'liar'?" Fives asks, careful of keeping his voice calm. "You know exactly what I mean." Dogma mumbles into Watcher's shoulder. "I don't, vod'ika. When did I lie to you?" Dogma lifts his head to glare at Fives again. Fives suddenly understands the saying "if looks could kill". At least the tears have slowed their fall across Dogma's face. "Not to me. To general Krell." Fives sighs. Just as he'd thought he'd gotten through to the shiny. "He was going to get us all killed, Dogma. For kriff's sake, he abused you. You don't need to keep jumping to his defence." Dogma seems to shrink at Fives words. Suddenly the ARC wishes Dogma would let Fives hug him again. "I don't mean about your mission." Dogma's voice is weaker now, barely audible. "I mean when you lied about me." Fives can't hold back the confused noise he makes. Just then, Kix enters the space. He's a little out of breath. "Watcher, what are you doing here?" Kix asks. "Fives asked me to watch Dogma when he was contacting you." Fives knows there'd be a stupid grin on the ARF trooper's face if the situation wasn't so tense. Kix sighs. "Of course he did. Could you leave? We don't want to crowd Dogma." With a nod, Watcher gets up, gently ruffling a portion of Dogma's hair not soaked in blood. "I'll check on you later, shiny." Dogma looks slightly offended, but not displeased by Watcher's words. It'd do him good to find some more friends. "Let's take a look at you." Kix says, med scanner in hands. Dogma doesn't react, gone back to hugging himself. "Could you tell me what you meant about me lying to Krell about you?" Dogma refuses to look at Fives, inhaling shakily. "Not just you, everyone." His voice wavers as he speaks. Fives doesn't say anything further, just waits for Dogma to speak.

He and Kix share a look, worried about where this is going. "You- You told general Krell I was to blame for your insubordinate behaviour, a- and that he should punish me for it." "What?" Fives exclaims, immediately regretting having done so when Dogma jerks away from him. Almost like he's expecting to be hit. That's when the med scanner beeps. Kix's eyes widen as he observes the verdict displayed on the screen. "Fives, come look at this." Fives walks to the medic's side, muttering an apology to Dogma as he does so. When he sees the display of the screen, Fives suddenly wishes an even worse death on Krell than he had before.

Mando'a Translation:

Vod/vode – sibling/siblings Osik – shit Shabuir – fucker Vod'ika – little sibling Trikayc – sorry Shebs - ass

[frostbitebakery]

I just wanna say I love your artwork, especially creature!obi-wan! (Weirdly enough, it reminds me of “Muscular Hydrostats” by aaskada, even though there it’s the *vode* who become eldritch horrors.) But I really wanted to ask about your de-aged!obi-wan art - *does* Cody ever give him a kiss? Just a little peck on the cheek or a holy-crap-we’re-alive smooch only to pull back (“I shouldn’t have done that.”) and then get tackled and kissed for all he’s worth by an enthusiastic de-aged general?

Nonny!! Thank you so much for your sweet words! 💜

Ohhh yeah! That fic is amazing, I wholeheartedly agree!

*cracks knuckles* So Baby-Wan’s unfortunate condition of being babyfaced is just a lot of handwaving, happens to a Jedi of Force’s choice once in a while. No one knows why but they do know it’s temporary for about a month. The longest month of Cody’s life. He Tries His Best, alright? Twisting and turning out of the focus of the kid. He’s not proud of his dodging tactics but a graceful retreat is just not possible on a Venator that suddenly seems to be the size of a gunship.

Obi-Wan isn’t dogging his steps exactly but given his predicament and the overall situation, he’s not not always there.

Cody’s nerves might be as fried as his Venator. He hasn’t slept in his bunk in a month. Hasn’t talked to his Obi-Wan in a month. He misses him, on top of avoiding huge grey blue eyes that observe him. Cody is very familiar with that intrigued look. Just not with the current obviousness about it.

The night before, fingers crossed, the Force bullshit is supposed to end, Cody’s resistance shatters like so much cheap plastoid armor.

“I just,” Obi-Wan says quietly, shrugs, pulls the robe closer over hunched shoulders, “want to know. What it’s like. What he has.” He shrugs again and Cody might actually space himself. “You know?”

Force, that absolute bastard of a cosmic power, knows, but somehow Cody is sitting next to the kid on not their bunk, legs drawn up, and with a personal crisis to go with their late meal.

Okay. Cody swallows the sigh. Okay. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Obi-Wan asks, head whipping up and staring at Cody. Cody can see the cogs turning in that too young and already beautiful brain.

He makes them face each other, is glad but not his gloves are on the desk instead of providing a flimsy barrier.

Obi-Wan’s face cradled in his hands is nothing new, except all of this is. The kid closes his eyes, opens them again, undecided.

It’s the most gentle, fleeting brush of lips Cody can manage. Lips under his soft and giving at even the light touch. And over before the heat of Obi-Wan’s palm on his wrist can register.

“That has to be enough, okay?”

Obi-Wan opens dazed eyes, nods almost absently. Cody strokes the blush with his thumb.

“Good night, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[hastalavistabyebye]

DRAGON RAISING DRAGON RAISING DRAGON RAISING!!!

Uh... pls? 😅

xD but of course dear !

So that's an idea that popped in my head a few days ago and evolved in some world building frenzy.

I just really wanted to see Fox with tiny bitsy dragons.

It's more rambles than proper, honest writing for now tho. The idea is of a sort of fantasy world where the Vode are young Mandalorians raised for a war in a sort of ostracized creed. I'm still not giving them a nice childhood I'm afraid. But here they have dragons ! Which makes everybody even more wary of them because of their capacity to bond and work with those terrifying, violent, dangerous creatures.

The Vode saw the war, went nope thank you, and in a still not defined way ended it all and went on their merry way.

Here, have a bit of the notes I've wrote :

Once they had fixed the war problem, Fox did not choose to continue working with those bigger species. Even if it was a glorious path. It was baffling for the rest of the galaxy. Only his vode really understood to be honest.  He was one of the most renowned and decorated Vode. He hated it.  He sported ugly, thick scars because of big dragons. He didn’t blame the beasts, it was a long story. But it did make him resent a life of fight and violence. 

He went raising the most tiny beany, tooka-like dragons, instead. He's the most happy ever. (What better kind of therapy ?)

I've thought about the Jedi too, and the Vode's armor, and there's a lot of lore and ideas I need to explore more too.

The objective is to make it a propre story one day. But for now it's just me rambling in a file xD