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#kaminoans are awful
mandos-mind-trick · 10 months
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On Soulmate Rejection...
Oh boy, you're gonna make me write about this pain.
@freesia-writes wants to know so I cannot be held responsible for the absolute heartbreak in this one.
Okay, here we go.
So, the soulmate bond in the Force is sort of a tangible thing. Even to non Force-sensitives, it's still something they can feel. I've mentioned I think in every one of the fics that they can feel the bonds, feel them strengthening, etc. The yearning, the desire, all of that is felt along the bond, and the closer you are to your soulmate, and the more you work on the bond, the stronger it is.
It's sort of like the idea of the red string of fate that is prevalent in a lot of fics. Some even have it as a literal string that can be seen. In this AU it's sort of a string in the Force that connects the two, but it's not exactly something one can seek out. A Force-sensitive may be able to sort of use the bond as a guide to locate their soulmate, but it could be argued the Force meant for them to do that anyway, so it is really them doing it or the Force allowing it.
Anyway, when soulmates meet, obviously they become aware of the link between them to a degree. As time goes on, regardless of if they're feeding the bond or not, it will begin to strengthen and kind of poke at them until they do take action. Those with more metaphysical bonds like dreams or telepathy will have a stronger initial bond due to them having already met in a sense versus those with marks or other sorts of physical bonds.
That all being said, rejection is not something that's easy.
In the Crosshair fic I sort of hinted at it having to be a willing decision. It's true, you cannot force someone to reject their soulmate. It has to be a willing decision by at least one half of the soulmate pair.
And no, beings cannot even be programmed to do it, as the Kaminoans figured out.
Not just clones and Jedi rejected their soulmates, many others chose to do so by their own free will. It's not an easy choice (unless you really are that evil) but it can be done by anyone for any number of reasons.
Rejection happens in phases.
The first is the actual verbal rejection of your soulmate bond. It has to come from a willing decision, it has to be wanted. There has to be soul behind the decision. Something along the lines of "I reject you as my soulmate" is said, and the bond begins to unravel and break.
It's horribly painful for both involved. It can feel sort of like a heart attack, or a stab to the chest. One may feel like their heart is beating irregularly, breathing may become difficult. Pain begins in the chest then radiates outward through the entire body. Every nerve is alive and screaming as the body rejects something that's been there since birth.
It's an entirely conscious process. No matter how bad the pain gets, you never pass out. You never forget either.
The pain lasts a maximum of 30 minutes, depending on how developed the bond was at the time of rejection. Once the pain fades, the second stage begins.
There's an unmistakable emptiness after a rejection, like a piece is missing from somewhere deep inside. Which, in a sense, is exactly what happens. Some may experience panic, anxiety, a feeling of dread while their body and their soul attempt to adjust to this sudden hole inside. Others don't feel anything, which can be just as jarring.
The second stage lasts up to a week, depending on how developed the bond was at the time of rejection.
Then the third stage begins. This stage may last an entire lifetime. Others may find ways to recover from it, such as the Jedi who use meditation to gently ease away the pain. Some turn to other therapies, good or bad.
While the physical pain eventually does leave, the feeling of something missing doesn't. Always you feel the hole, the missing part, the thing that almost was but was ripped away instead. Some claim you can't even feel emotions fully like you could before. That just the ability to feel has lessened.
Some liken it to a deep depression that will never leave, that isn't treatable. Always the reminder is there of what could have been. One always carries the emptiness of missing the other half of their soul.
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I think Crosshair is rubbing off on me
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0h0possum · 28 days
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A Codywan and How to Train Your Dragon crossover that turned into a the Mandalorians factions are dragons AU, because I can never just do something simple and for the heck of it.
If you’re not interested the AU lore, leave now or suffer my rambling lol.
Basically, the idea is that Mandalorians started as a race that could shift into dragons. The Mand’alor line and those of most influence were notably ‘Fury’s (for example Mand’alor Tarre Viszla was a Nightfury and so is his generational line). But over time most Mandolorians who could shift were killed off or just lost the ability as more non-shifter Mandolorians married in. Eventually only a few of the Fury’s were around, and when Mandalore split most chose factions lead by the remaining Fury lines. AKA: the New Mandalorians/Lightfury’s, the Haat Mando'ade or True Mandalorians/Duskfury’s, and the Kyr’tsad or Death Watch/Nightfury’s.
Basically this also helps explain (in my head) why Mandalorians would follow Death Watch (terrorists) or the New Mandalorians (Intense Pacifist). It’s because they see those lines that can still shift as chosen leaders or a physical embodiment of the Ka’ra’s will.
How is Obi-Wan a shifter though? Well in this AU he’s the son of Tor Viszla. Long story short, early on when Obi-Wan was born he displayed being force sensitive, and Obi-WAN’s mom (Tor’s wife??? Idk it’s not important to the story) basically went ‘Aw hell naw’ and tried to drown Obi-Wan. Only to be stopped by a traveling Jedi who stole Obi-Wan and saved him. Totally unaware that this baby was Mandalorian, the son one of the biggest Mandalorian factions, AND also one of the last few existing Mandalorian dragon shifters. (Also Obi-Wan’s mom doesn’t want to admit that she lost Obi-Wan to a Jedi and just tells Tor that he was force sensitive and she succeeded in drowning him).
Maybe I’ll get into it later but basically Obi-Wan grows up as normal in the Temple, but obviously at some point he shifts and has the biggest panic of his life. But with help from friends (Quinlan, Garen, Siri, and Bant) he figures out shifting (enough to control it) and helps keep it a secret (Mandalorians and Jedi still don’t have best relations and Obi-Wan is paranoid about being kicked out of the Order anyways *cough cough Brandomeer cough cough Melinda/Daan*). To be clear, Obi-Wan isn’t like ashamed of what he is. He just doesn’t want the judgments of coming from CLEAR Mandalorian roots, and Death Watch at that. Plus he kinda just decides to not think about how he’s pretty much definitely related to well known terrorist Tar and Pre Viszla, because then he doesn’t have to address it. Besides he’s happy as a Jedi.
Anyways, NOW CODY-
So without getting to detailed (mission failed lol) all the clones ARE shifters (Duskfury’s just like Jango Fett), but they have it suppressed by the Kaminoans (probably part of their chips? I haven’t thought it fully out yet). BUT THINGS HAPPEN, probably Cody and Obi-Wan get stranded alone somewhere for a long time and Cody gets his chipped fucked up somehow, and now he’s shifting into a dragon???? And scaring the shit out of both him and Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan exposes himself as a dragon shifter as well to comfort Cody and show that he will keep his secret. Plus he clearly understands him. (At this point they both are under the impression the clones aren’t shifters, and think Cody is just an outlier and “late bloomer” so to speak). Cue them learning how to be dragons together and be comfortable in their other form.
And eventually they get rescued and find out somehow all the clones are shifters, and therefore find the chips and discover Palpatine’s plan, SO THE GALAXY IS SAVED!
(Additionally the clones get rights and go to form their own society/group (Obi-Wan comes with to be with other dragons, but mostly to be with Cody), and they form an alliance with the New Mandalorians and accidentally unit Mandalore purely by the three Fury types (Nightfury/Obi-Wan, Duskfury/Cody, Lightfury/Satine) being around each other lol.
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Gentle Hands
Back on Kamino after successfully rescuing Echo and retaking Anaxes, you know just how to soothe Wrecker’s lingering back pain.
Pairing: Wrecker x f!reader
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: established relationship, pet names, little bit of angst and comfort, flashback to how Wrecker got his scars, minor mentions of blood, fluff, soft love, light sprinkle of the hots for this giant mans size/strength, slight suggestiveness.
A/N: saw a headcannon that Wrecker doesn’t have a cybernetic eye and is instead partially/fully blind in that eye, and now I can’t get that out of my head.
Translations: ner kar'ta – my heart
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“Urgh.” Wrecker’s grunt echoes through the barracks as he flops face-first onto his bunk. You’d just arrived back on Kamino from Anaxes, another successful mission accomplished and a new squad member onboard.
Tech had disappeared off with Echo in search of better armour and weapons for the ARC Trooper. Crosshair had slunk off in the direction of the shooting range – not that he needed the practice - while Hunter had remained on the Marauder, needing the peace of the empty ship to finish his mission reports.
That had left you and Wrecker alone, and your man had wanted nothing more than to nap.
“At least take your armour off first.” You gently nudge Wrecker’s shoulder, earning a grumble of protest. He pushes himself up, big hands prying his armour off his body, depositing it with various clangs beside his bunk. You loved him, but Maker above, he could be messy.
Back on the bed, face pressed into the mattress, Wrecker winced, feeling a tweak in his lower back. “Babe…” He called for you, turning his head to watch you take your armour off, stacking it neatly on the large table in the middle of the room.
His gaze roved across your body, admiring the soft curves of your frame as you turned back to him, hands on your hips and an eyebrow arched. He couldn’t help but feel lucky to have you. You’d started as their civilian handler, feeding them missions and making sure they came back safely – the Kaminoans couldn’t have anything happen to their prized experimental unit, after all – but somewhere along the way, you’d stolen his heart, with your soft smile and easy nature. You laughed at his jokes, stayed up to watch holofilms with him, cooed over Lula the first time you saw her, and were always happy to hand over a detonator or two when he had the urge to blow something up. At times, you tempered the big kid in him, while other times, you let go of the reins and let him run wild.
“Yes, ner kar’ta?” You ask, taking a few steps over to his bunk. For the sake of appearances, you had your own bunk, though it was never used. The rest of the squad knew of your relationship, but it was a well-guarded secret, not wanting to risk the Kaminoans finding out.
As you draw closer, Wrecker drags an arm out from underneath him to gently snag your hand, tugging you in. He’d always been hyper-aware of his size and strength, but he was especially cautious with you. Hurting you was something he never wanted to do, even if it was an accident.
“Think I’ve tweaked my back,” Wrecker admits, offering you a sheepish smile.
You can’t help but smile in return, the corners of your lips curving as your loveable giant gives your hand a soft squeeze. For a moment, you admire him, still in awe that he’s yours. But as usual, a flicker of guilt passes through you as your traitorous eyes slink to the web of scars across half his face, his damaged ear, and the milkiness of his right eye. It was your fault he was partially blind.
You’d only been with the boys a handful of months when you’d missed a tripwire as you’d been pushing forward through a cave, setting off a nearby explosive. You’d been out in the open while the others could duck for cover. Wrecker had decided to protect you, turning you and pressing you to his chest, shielding you from the blast, taking the brunt of it himself. The memory of the dust settling, the blood as you pulled back from his chest and looked up, the panic and fear that had consumed you as you’d taken in the damage he’d sustained right before he passed out... all because you’d forgotten for one moment to look where you were stepping.
He’d been medevaced to a nearby Venator. You’d gone with him, his brothers insisting on it while they finished the mission, knowing it would upset Wrecker if they lost their 100% success rate. Washing his blood off your hands in a small fresher as you waited for news from the medics almost broke you. You’d been so close to handing in your resignation and retreating back to your quiet home planet.
But then he’d woken after surgery, after his brothers had successfully completed the mission and returned, and you’d all been briefed on his condition. His first questions to the medics had been about you – were you safe or hurt? Tears had rolled down your cheeks as the medics had relayed this to you all, Tech subtly pressing a tissue into your hand, and you’d known then in your heart that you could never leave.
“You’re doin’ that thing again,” Wrecker says, having watched a faraway look cross your face. He knew you still struggled with the guilt of his accident. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” He tacks on, gently bringing you down to sit sideways on the edge of his bunk, big arm sliding around your middle. “I don’t blame ya. It was my choice, and I’d do it all again.” He reiterates, pressing a kiss to your body. He said it every time he saw you slipping back into the memory, and he’d keep repeating it until you believed it. 
Pulled back to the present, you offer him a soft smile, one of your hands moving to rub across his broad shoulders. “Sorry, ner kar’ta.” You murmur, focussing instead on the quiet noise of delight falling from his lips as your hands stroke his tense muscles. “Those tri-droids are probably the cause of your back pain.” You comment, watching his eyes flutter shut at your touch, the peacefulness of his expression chasing away the lingering guilt.
“They were stronger than they looked, but I wasn’t gonna let ’em crush the locals.” He comments, feeling himself melt into the mattress the more you rub at his shoulders.
You loved seeing him work, the effortless way he shoved assault tanks around or pried blast doors open, lifting up gunships like they weighed nothing, and how his thick fingers somehow nimbly managed to disarm explosives. “It was hot.” You admit, feeling warmth in your cheeks.
A rumble of laughter leaves him, the deep noise setting off butterflies in your belly, but he winces again as it jostles his back.
“Here.” You shift, gently easing the top of his blacks up. He helps you remove the garment, settling back on the bed as your hands return to his body. Broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, scars crisscrossing his warm, tanned skin. Evidence of a lifetime of war.
You get up momentarily, moving silently to your bunk to snag your unscented lotion – constantly aware of Hunter’s senses – and return to Wrecker a moment later. He shifts over, and you sit at his side, squeezing some of the lotion onto your hands. Rubbing them together, you warm them up before you press your hands against his back, dragging them across his body in firm, even strokes.
Wrecker’s moans of appreciation fill the barracks, and you stifle a giggle. Your hands keep working across his body, feeling solid muscles give with every pass, the knots loosening. Pressing your thumbs into his lower back, he grunts, hips rutting against the mattress. “Not until your back is better.” You tease, giving his butt a playful swat.
He grumbles in protest but knows you’re right – he’s too tired for anything anyway. The ache in his back is easing exponentially under your soothing touch, and he smacks his lips together as sleep beckons him, shifting on the mattress into an even comfier position.
The first drag of your nails across his warm skin makes him shiver, the corners of his mouth curving upwards as you start lightly scratching, fingers drawing patterns across the vast expanse of skin. The patterns shift to words, Aurebesh spelling out how much you love him, how handsome he is, how strong he is.
“I love you. You’re so good to me.” He mumbles, feeling the weight of your adoration, his eyes heavy with sleep, his mind struggling to focus on the words you’re scrawling across his body.
A warm smile passes over your lips, and you dip down to kiss his cheek softly. “I love you too.” You whisper back, fingers still moving lightly over his back as you hear his breathing turn deep and heavy, face going slack as he falls asleep.
You scoot to lay beside him, drawing his arm over your body. A nap wouldn’t hurt you, either.
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neon-junkie · 13 days
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Private Affairs
Summary: Tasked with finding the General and the Captain, Dogma stumbles right into the midst of a private affair. To make things even worse, he rather enjoys the view… that is, until he's caught.
Word count: 4k
Tags: Established relationship, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Confrontation, Handjobs, Smut, Praise, Military ranks, Cuckolding, Virginity, First time, Dom/sub.
Pairing: Dogma x f!Reader x Rex
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Curiosity killed the lothcat, but satisfaction brought it back - or so, that’s how the phrase goes. And as satisfying as this sight may be, he knows that curiosity will be the death of him.
He shouldn’t be watching. He should not be watching, let alone enjoying the view, palming his hard cock over his under armour, his codpiece abandoned long ago. It’s not like he can help it, seeing as the poor man is a virgin through and through. It’s been drilled into his mind by the Kaminoan’s that sexual activity is strictly forbidden, but if his General and Captain can go at it, then it doesn’t hurt to watch, right?
The he in question is Dogma - a straight edge, punctual, and obedient Trooper.
Poor little Dogma was given the order to find the General and Captain, and inform them about the next stage in their current mission. They weren’t in any of the tents, nor in the surrounding area. The gunships were clear, leaving the Captain’s ship as the only remaining option.
The door was open, a clear sign that somebody was aboard, only Dogma wasn’t expecting to find them tucked away in the cockpit, kriffing like their lives depended on it. Better yet, Dogma wasn’t expecting the cockpit’s door to be wide open, welcoming just about anybody to catch them in the act!
Maybe this was some weird fetish that Dogma had been unintentionally roped into, or maybe they were too horny to shut the damn door!
Still, Dogma was the poor soul who had found you and your Captain going at it. He should have turned, ran, and never spoke a word; instead, Dogma caught himself mindlessly gorming at the action, like a Cadet discovering holoporn for the first time.
Not that Dogma has ever watched holoporn…
Dogma refuses to dabble in anything sexual. He will, on an extremely rare occasion, have a drink or two, but always manages to resist the urge to get drunk! He doesn’t smoke, nor do drugs, and only swears during life or death circumstances. All in all, he’s a total virgin, which would explain why his eyes are prying to a whole new level.
And when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he felt himself hardening, causing his codpiece to bulge uncomfortably. It took him a lot of convincing to remove the armour, seeing as it was causing him discomfort, just like it took even more convincing to let him finally touch himself.
“Just do it to help the pain… or until it goes down… or until they stop… or-” Dogma told himself, biting down hard on his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a moan. How wonderful it felt, jerking off to the sight of his General being kriffed, all by Captain Rex, of course.
Everybody had a hunch that something was going on between those two, but nobody had ever caught them! How funny it is that Dogma is the one to discover the truth, and kriff, the truth is that they have some really intimate sex. Rex has you pushed face-down over the cockpit’s dashboard, taking you from behind. Your legs are spread, arms behind your back, with Rex’s hand firmly holding them in place. The ‘slap slap slap!’ sound of skin against skin is echoing around the ship - a warning for those with prying eyes, although that hasn’t stopped Dogma.
Throughout moans and groans, you’re mumbling away. “G-gotta hurry up, Rex. Someone’s going to come looking for us soon,” you pant, and you’re met with a shrug.
Dogma feels himself tense up at your comment - are you aware that he’s there, watching you two? Does the force work like that? Or is Dogma awful at being stealthy?
Still, if you two are aware of Dogma’s presence, it hasn’t changed anything. You’re still kriffing away, eager to let out some frustrations, and relieve yourselves before regaining your focus on the mission at hand. The last thing that the squad needs is a sexually frustrated General and Captain!
By now, your ass and the back of your thighs have turned red from Rex’s armour pounding against you. The sight only causes Dogma to stir even more, biting his knuckles as he feels himself getting closer. Sure, he’s touched himself here and there, but refuses to make a habit out of it. Plus, it’s difficult to get the time and privacy when you’re a soldier, but the others seem to make do.
Better yet, you and Rex seem to manage it. How did this all start? How long has this been going on for? Dogma would never dream of approaching his General with sexual intentions, unless you came onto Rex?
And if you came onto somebody else, how would that go? Dogma finds himself picturing what things would be like if you propositioned him instead - uneducated, timid, and total virgin. He wouldn’t even know where to start, let alone how to touch you. Although, Dogma knows you’re the type who would be eager to teach him. Could he ever kriff you like that? Pounding you deep and hard, making you cum untouched like Rex is right now?
With that, Rex lets out a long and deep groan, slamming his cock deep and spilling inside of you. Dogma firmly grasps the base of his cock to prevent himself from climaxing when Rex pulls out of you, revealing your used cunt, dripping with his load. How he longs to be in that position, filling his General up like it’s nobody’s business!
Now, the issues really begin to arise. You and Rex have finished your business, and now that you’re distracted cleaning each other up, Dogma has the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He needs to get his ass out of there now!
Pulling his under armour up and into place, Dogma begins searching for his codpiece. He could have sworn that he left it between his feet, yet it’s nowhere to be seen! It doesn’t help that the ship is dark, and somewhat cluttered with your personal belongings, but it was right there, wasn’t it?
Rummaging around, Dogma walks straight into his worst nightmare. He bends down to retrieve what he thought was his codpiece, but after realising that nope, that’s not it, he bangs his head on an overhead pipe.
DONG!
The sound is loud enough to be heard throughout the campsite, so undoubtedly, you and Rex overheard it! “Who’s there?” you question as you whip around, no longer sharing a few final kisses with Rex before exiting the ship to face your Troops. Instead, you’re darting across the cockpit to push a few buttons, lighting the ship’s hull within an instant.
And you’re met with an unbelievable sight…
One hand rubbing his bruising forehead, Dogma makes eye contact with you. The fear is apparent, given that all the colour has drained from his face, and he looks just about ready to collapse.
Rex speaks up before you can, simply questioning, “Dogma?”
No reply. He’s getting sweatier by the minute, so sweaty that his face tattoo might just melt away!
“Dogma?” you repeat his name. Before you can even finish your next sentence, Dogma begins begging for forgiveness. “What were you doin-”
“-I’m sorry!” He practically yells. “I didn’t mean to! I was sent to look for you two, and I just… it happened, alright?!”
Tears are threatening to spill from Dogma’s waterline. To him, this is the end of it all. No doubt, he’ll be blackmailed into keeping his mouth shut (not that it would open anyway,) then sent off for decommissioning.
“-Dogma, it’s alright!” you cut his apology short. “We’re not mad, okay?”
“I don’t believe you,” Dogma replies, firmly shaking his head.
“She means it,” Rex chimes in. “We’re not mad. Nothing is going to happen to you, understood, Trooper?”
Still as white as a ghost, Dogma sheepishly nods his head, begrudgingly accepting both of your reassurance. You might not decommission him, but you will certainly punish him, seeing as he was getting off to your little shenanigans.
Bridging the gap, you approach him. Dogma refuses to make eye contact, keeping his head down and arms at his side. He’s more than embarrassed - he feels like his soul has left his body, and you’re certainly not going to help him retrieve it. Or so, he thinks.
You look back at Rex, who remains in the cockpit, before turning back to Dogma. A hand comes up to gently cup his chin, forcing him to look forward, although his eyes remain down, refusing to look at you.
“Look at me, Dogma,” you order. It takes him a few seconds, followed by a large gulp of air, before Dogma can finally meet your gaze. His stomach is churning away, threatening to throw up his ration bars, all whilst his body begins shaking from pure fear.
“What were you doing?” you ask.
Dogma yanks his chin from your grasp, returning his gaze to the floor, yet he doesn’t run away. His body is failing him, glueing his feet to the floor, unable to escape this madness.
“Dogma,” you say his name, but with sternness. The Trooper in question ignores you, his fingertips fidgeting with each other as his nerves control his every movement.
After letting out a deep sigh, you fall back onto a method that you hate doing. Dogma is a soldier, and seeing as you’re his General, he has to follow your every order.
“Stand at attention,” you order. Automatically, Dogma snaps upright, his arms falling to his sides as his eyes look forwards, straight past you. It’s not eye contact, but it’s better than the whimpering state he was in before.
“To repeat myself, Trooper, you are not in trouble. No harm is going to come your way, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be questioned. Understood?”
“Understood, General,” Dogma agrees with a firm nod. There’s still fear deep within his eyes, although you notice that his breathing is beginning to relax. It’s not much, but it’s progress.
“And Captain,” Rex chimes in. He’s moved from the cockpit, taking his place beside you and Dogma. Rex is essentially in the background, but his presence is known.
“And Captain,” Dogma corrects himself.
Rex lets out a soft, “good,” before letting you continue.
After sending Rex a scolding look, you silently browse Dogma’s form before speaking up again. “I want to know what you were doing, Trooper. Don’t skip out on any details.”
Dogma gulps. He lets out an uneasy breath, and with much difficulty, begins his confession. “Like I said before, the other Troopers ordered me to go and find you both so that we could go over the next stages of the mission. When I boarded your ship, I was completely unaware of what I’d find. The cockpit door was wide open, and I… stumbled upon you two…”
“That would be my fault,” Rex chuckles. “I got a little carried away, forgot to secure the area before diving right in.”
“You have such a way with words,” you sigh, earning another chuckle from Rex. “Do continue, Trooper.”
Dogma pauses once more, only this time, he makes eye contact. There’s a silent plea deep within his gaze, but you don’t let up. After a few seconds of silence, and accepting his fate, Dogma continues.
“I… you two… It was so… out there in the open, and I couldn’t help but watch. I know I shouldn’t have! But… I don’t know what came over me, I was so engulfed in it…”
This time, you’re the silent one. You raise a brow, questioning Dogma’s words. You’re well aware how straight edge he is, sometimes being called uptight by the other Troopers. But to become that engulfed in seeing people have sex? Has this man ever seen it before?
Well, what if he hasn’t? There must be a reason why the other Troopers tease him, calling him a virgin, and every other innocent name under the sun. Maker, has Dogma even seen boobs before?!
“Are you…” your words fall flat, and you put thought into how to word this. “Dogma, I know you don’t… do that stuff, but you have seen people having sex before, right? Holoporn, or something like that?”
Dogma’s colour begins to fade again, and suddenly, you understand why Dogma became so engrossed. “I don’t… uh, Kamino doesn’t have access to such things. We’re discouraged when it comes to… intimacy. I know the other Troopers tend to watch it, but I…”
“Interesting,” you sigh. Crossing your arms across your chest, you playfully bounce on your heels before straightening your figure. All this prying is rather fascinating, and dare you admit it, but it’s giving you… ideas.
“Tell me,” you speak up again. “What were you doing whilst you were watching your superiors having sex?”
“Superiors,” Rex repeats the word under his breath. “You don’t need to be that mean to him.”
“A little reminder doesn’t hurt,” you shrug, enjoying the sight of Dogma squirming from embarrassment.
Dogma’s lips remain sealed, but after giving him a look, they finally open. “Please don’t make me talk about it,” he begs, clasping his hands together in front of his chest.
“We need those details, Trooper,” you smirk. Rex remains silent, but he’s well aware how much you’re enjoying this.
A pained groan slips from Dogma’s lips, followed by a frustrated huff. “If you must know…” his words trail into a sigh, and Dogma scrunches his eyes shut before continuing. “I was touching myself! I know I shouldn’t have, but everything was so… much, and I couldn’t watch and do nothing about it!” To your surprise, Rex speaks up before you can. “You could have turned around, and walked away. Not only did you stay and watch, but you also pleasured yourself to it.”
“I know I should have walked away! But like I said, I’ve never seen that before… and… and-”
“That’s enough,” you end his sputtering with a gentle wave of your hand. Dogma watches as you turn to Rex, and silently make your intentions clear. His eyes flicker between you two, somehow talking without using words. The conversation ends with Rex shrugging before giving you a small nod, agreeing to something.
You return your focus to Dogma, who doesn’t hide his panicked expression. His demeanour worsens as you take a step forward, bridging the already small gap between your bodies. You’re mere inches from him, close enough to feel his short and uneasy breaths on your cheeks, them only worsening as more time passes.
For once, Dogma doesn’t look away from your gaze. He allows your eyes to meet his, seeing through every layer of fear that possesses his body. When you finally speak, Dogma is just about ready to pass out, but adrenalin keeps him going.
“Did you enjoy watching your superiors have sex?”
Dogma remains silent, but you don’t need verbal confirmation to know the answer. “I mean, you were getting off to us,” you coo.
To everybody’s surprise, your hand moves forward, and a palm is introduced to Dogma’s crotch. He gasps, his head falling down to look at the sight - you’re palming his soft cock through his under armour, all whilst you’re teasing him in a rather alluring tone.
“I know you enjoyed it, Dogma. That much is clear,” you continue, causing Dogma to look at you once more. “But I can tell that you didn’t get to finish, you poor thing,” you say with a soft click of your tongue.
“General?” Dogma pants, questioning what the kriff is going on. A minute ago, his knees were ready to collapse, falling to his pit of doom. And now, you’re causing his cock to harden, twitching away under the thin layer of clothing.
“Don’t interrupt her, Trooper,” Rex chimes in. Kriff! Dogma had totally forgotten Rex was there. His hands are clasped behind his back, chest puffed out, with a stern expression on his face. Is Dogma really going to stand here and allow his General to toy with him whilst his Captain watches? Is this what they silently agreed to moments ago?
“Eyes on me,” you order, your free hand coming up to draw his face back to yours. “Rex is there to ensure you stay in line. You are one of his men, after all.”
For some reason, Dogma catches himself nodding in agreement. He’s enjoying this, far more than he’s willing to admit, but his fully erect cock is telling you all that you need to know.
“How about you show me what you were playing with, hm?” you suggest, giving Dogma the opportunity to back out, if he wants to.
Instead, Dogma slowly frees his cock, letting it spring from its confinement. He lets out an embarrassing whimper when you wrap your hand around it, one hand lunging forward to grasp your arm, almost as if he’s scared about what’s in store for him.
“At ease, Trooper,” you order. Dogma can’t help but follow it, parting his legs whilst his hands clasp together behind his back. His back straightens for all of three seconds, slumping over as soon as you begin slowly jerking him.
“You’re so good at following orders,” you praise. Such a compliment never fails to drive Dogma crazy, and your words flow straight down to his cock. “But I still want to know what you were thinking about whilst you were watching your Captain kriff me…”
Licking his lips, Dogma mustered up the courage to speak. “I was thinking about… being in his position…”
“Don’t forget Rex’s ranking, Trooper,” you correct him.
“Sorry. About being in the Captain’s position, General,” Dogma corrects his mistake, earning a pleasing movement from your hand. Once more, he whines; there’s no point in holding back, not now that he’s in this position.
“Finding yourself in that position would be… almost unattainable, but not completely impossible. Rex is the one who you need to ask, not me.”
Dogma sends a pathetic pleading expression Rex’s way, but he’s met with a stern look. “I’ll think about it,” Rex responds. “As for now, your primary objective is making the General happy.”
“Yes, Captain,” Dogma agrees with an eager nod. His breaths are becoming heavier the more you play with him, and you question how long he was going at it before you caught him. The poor man could have been edging himself the entire time, and whilst you and Rex were only having a quickie, that’s far too long for an inexperienced man.
“If Rex doesn’t agree, I’m sure I can convince him to let you watch,” you tease the idea, dangling it in front of his face like a forbidden fruit. “I know you’d enjoy that, seeing as you’ve already done it.”
“I wouldn’t mind having him watch,” Rex says with a shrug. “But I won’t be gentle with you,” he directs his words to you, filling your mind with the idea. How wonderful it would be to have your Captain pounding the life out of you, all whilst innocent Dogma watches, cock in hand, so desperate to get his fill. He’ll take whatever he can get, and right now, that consists of you jerking him off in the hull of your ship.
“I know you’re already excited about that idea,” you tease.
“I am,” Dogma eagerly nods, and swiftly adds, “General,” before he can be called out on his lack of respect.
You smile, and whilst maintaining eye contact, you send a trail of spit down onto Dogma’s cock. It hits the tip spot-on, slicking up the rest of his shaft as you continue pumping him. Dogma’s knees threaten to buckle yet again, but he somehow manages to maintain his composure, hands still clasped behind his back.
With a hungry gaze, Dogma watches you jerk him off, his wet cock shining in the hull’s lighting. He’s never seen himself like this before - desperate, pathetic, willing to do anything for release. Dare he admit it, but he loves it. Maybe this is what he’s needed all along - a gentle hand to guide him. If only the other Troopers could see him now… Dogma may be a virgin, but who’s the one being jerked off by the General?
“G-general?” Dogma sputters, failing to meet your gaze. It’s disrespectful, but given the state that he’s in, you decide to go easy on it.
“Speak,” you grant him.
“Please… if it isn’t any hassle… please may I…”
“You may,” you agree with a nod. Dogma just about explodes the second that he’s given permission, spilling all over your hand, a few rogue drops meeting the floor below.
Falling out of line, Dogma finds himself resting against you. His forehead meets your shoulder, although he manages to keep his hand behind his back. He’s trying to be a good soldier - your good soldier, but any Trooper would fail to stay at ease when being milked by their General, even Rex!
Rather than scolding him, you help him through it. “It’s alright. You did so good for me, Dogma. What a good soldier,” you coo, allowing him one final round of satisfaction.
When all the wind has been knocked from Dogma’s lungs, he straightens his back - or attempts to, seeing as he’s struggling to keep it together during his post orgasm haze. Your hand moves away from him, and using the force, you summon a towel to clean yourselves up with. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” you ask whilst drying Dogma’s length.
“Very fun, General,” Dogma agrees with a nod. Even Rex chimes in. “You did a good job at maintaining your composure, for a first timer,” he jabs.
“Appreciate it, Captain,” Dogma responds.
Once dry, he tucks himself away. “We’re serious about that offer, just so you know,” you inform him whilst retrieving his long-lost codpiece.
“Y-you are?” Dogma stutters, and struggles to fix the missing armour into place, soon requiring your assistance.
“Yes,” you confirm. Once more, Dogma looks as if he’s about to pass out. Not only did he manage to worm his way out of decommissioning, but he was rewarded for his curiosity too! Dogma can’t help but question if you knew about his prying eyes all along, giving you the opportunity to bring him into the mix.
“But I haven’t decided on anything else, yet,” Rex butts in, putting Dogma back down into his place. Dogma keeps his gaze on you, dreading the expression that Rex possibly holds.
“Still, you can watch the action. And remember, Rex is a Captain; his performance is far higher than any regular Trooper. Don’t let it get to you.”
After a wink, you leave Dogma to it. Rex follows suit, retrieving his helmet from a nearby crate, and holds it snug under his arm. To anybody outside, you’re two superiors casually exiting a ship, ready to rally the men and discuss your next series of attacks.
Before your feet meet the earth, you turn back to poor Dogma. “Come and join us once you’re ready,” you order, leaving him to stand there and process what’s just happened.
No longer in his superior’s line of sight, Dogma takes a seat on a nearby crate, narrowly avoiding that same pipe from earlier that he banged his head on. A series of heavy sighs flow from his lips, and his mind spins in a whirlwind of confusion.
What the kriff just happened?
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pencildragons · 3 months
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snippet from my upcoming foxquin fic sinner, sinner (come to dinner) for foxquinweek !!!!!
“Commander Fox,” says the Chancellor, smiling his kindly smile. Fox stands very still and stares straight ahead, past Palpatine and through the great transparisteel window at the city below, skyline exploding in the brilliance of the sun’s final dying rays. The fanciful part of him that will one day be responsible for his death imagines that, if he’s just still enough, Palpatine will forget him entirely. It’s ridiculous, he knows, he knows, of course he knows, but he clings to it anyway, endeavours to move as little as possible, turns trying to hide even the slight rise and fall of his chest into some sort of test of how good his impression of being a block of stone is. “Sir,” says Fox. “Commander Fox,” Palpatine says again, still smiling that awful fucking smile, but sadder, now, mournful, bushy eyebrows doing something terrible and expressive. “You have disappointed me.” “Yes, sir.” “I gave you a very simple directive, Commander, and still you failed.” Fox is barely breathing now. Only a few klicks away, the spire of the Jedi Temple burns in a halo of pink-red, spearing through the cloud-strewn sky. It looks like one of the paintings hung in the Senate rotunda corridors, the ones that like as not cost more to procure than he did. His throat is dry. He tries to swallow. It sticks. It is likely he is dehydrated. There is a little light flashing on top of the spire, warning away in-atmo transports and low-flying starships. Orange-blue-green. Orange-blue-green. He stares at it, so he doesn’t have to look at Palpatine. “Yes, sir.” “Such inadequacy is, of course, unacceptable, Commander, as I’m sure you’re aware. I really had hoped it would not come to this, you understand.” Liar, Fox thinks. You love this. “But there is only one way to learn, and that is through experiencing consequences of your actions. Perhaps next time you will not take your sworn duty so lightly, hmm?” “Yes, sir.” “Draw your blaster, please, Commander.” Fox blinks and, in his surprise, breaks his stillness to turn his head to face Palpatine properly. “…Sir?” “Must I repeat myself twice? Draw your blaster from your holster.” Slowly, Fox draws. He wonders if this is some sort of test, if he’s going to be punished further for making his weapon naked in front of the Supreme Chancellor of the entire fucking Republic. (In the light of the dusk spilling through the window into the opulent office, Palpatine’s eyes seem almost gold. It is for but a brief moment, just the rays of the fat sun catching oddly, and then they return to that sharp, ice-chip grey like nothing at all happened.) “Good,” says Palpatine, and smiles again. Like this, he looks like some natborn’s father’s father—grandfather, he believes the term is—all benevolent wrinkles and knowing looks. “Set it to kill.” Fox sets it to kill. It is not a difficult thing. He is just as much a weapon as the blaster in his hands, well-oiled, clean, smooth. Efficient. He was designed for this. It is easier to follow orders mindlessly; his brain, like all their brains (except, perhaps, Kote’s, but Kote’s a little fucked up and is an outlier for everything else, anyway), is primed for command, made to obey. A perfect, thoughtless gun, with just enough ruthlessness and self-determination to set them apart from the CIS’ droids. That’s the idea, anyway. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the Kaminoans failed in the execution of something. “Turn around, Commander,” Palpatine murmurs, words soft and smooth and rich as the heavy velvet-fabric from his home planet that he has all his clothes cut from. “And fire at will.”
rbs deeply appreciated :]
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moonlightwarriorqueen · 8 months
Text
501st + the girl with the clone-hating father
aka "Betraying your father for copy/paste boys"
Okay so I've wrote and re-wrote this too many times and while I'm not 100% happy with where it goes after the first couple parts...I'm tired of fighting it and have decided to give in.
you'll see as I post them 😅
this will be in a handful of parts since it refuses to be short and sweet!
Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
You never understood the issue with your father...but he hated clones with a passion. The hatred had festered for years, and long before the republic made it's grand army...but in eyes every single clone was the same. Regardless of its genetic make up, they were no good and were evil. He had a similar hatred for the Kaminoans as well, but seeing as you'd never left Courscant once in your life...you didn't feel it was all that big of an issue. The clone hating, however, quickly became a daily struggle.
The planet and the Republic now had an army of clones, and ones you often bump into no matter where you went. You tried to keep your distance...your father had warned you how dangerous and awful they could be. All of which flew out of the window one fateful day when you saw a red-clad trooper, who had been patrolling around, help a small child up after having tripped. The trooper was very kind and gentle with the little one and it stirred doubt and confusion deep within you.
Were they really as bad as your father had said??
You nervously walked up to the GAR's hangar. Your father had begrudingly sent you as his hands were elbows deep in a star fighter's engine and had mountains of repairs to do. So the paperwork issue was a job left to you. You had never once come near any of the army buildings, your father was the one to do this sort of thing while you normally stayed back at the shop.
"Hello...?" You called out peeking your head in.
You usually weren't so timid...but it was all so overwhelming. Your gaze flittered about everything in sight, and yet seemed to entire miss the trooper coming over to meet you. So much so, when he cleared his throat you almost hit the hangar ceiling.
"u-uhm, I'm sorry...my father sent me with some paperwork for Master Kenobi's starship? I guess there was something not done properly. I'm...not sure if i'm in the right spot, usually he's the one to do this sorta thing" you mumbled as you practically shoved the flimsi to the man's hands.
He seemed to regard you first then his helmut tilted down to the flimsi now in his grasp. You fidgeted on the spot trying to not be awkward or scared, but your heart just wouldn't stop beating in your ears.
He must've noticed your behaviour, because he slowly pulled his helmut off and suddenly all these thousands of troopers had a face.
You blinked in surprise.
That face was bad...?
You couldn't help but wonder if your father had ever once stood face to face with a clone trooper like you were in this moment. 
"General Kenobi did tell me someone was coming by with these..." he mused
You almost did a double take.
AND THAT'S WHAT THEY SOUNDED LIKE?!
the trooper glanced up from the flimsi and gave you a confused look
"something wrong...?"
"I'm sorry...I've...uh...never met with you before. Any of you..." you mumbled
For a moment, he seemed caught by surprise. Probably due to the odd idea that with how many of 'him' there was and yet you hadn't met a single one personally. But then he rolled his eyes.
"Not what you were expecting?" came the almost snarky reply
You shook your head imeadiately
"I thought you all were going to be like..." you trailed off trying to think of the word
"Don't worry about it" came the curt reply as he turned "wait here, I'll get this fixed and be right back. Don't wander"
you sighed frowning
"Great job...you offended him" you grumbled to yourself as you watched him leave.
You rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes and back again. Looking around the hangar from this spot you could see several engineers working on various crafts, like your father does, and there were even a few fully clad troopers milling about. Your eye caught upon one of the groups seemingly acting out.
"they have fun...?" you tilted your head in confusion.
Your father had made them sound like droids, but worse. Something that waited for an order, carried it out, then went back to waiting.
The group consisted of 4 men, maybe they just returned from somewhere off planet, and all had blue paint upon them. You watched as they fooled about with something, clearly they werent supposed to be, as one held a 'shush' finger towards his face.
You couldn't see details too well this far away, but maybe that was a blaster they were futzing with??
You screamed as you ducked, the escapee bolt having been heading your way, and stayed crouched near the floor
"I'm so sorry!" you heard one of them yell as many footfalls came rushing over.
"Phew, looks like it missed"
you peeked up to see the same four, now arguing with each other
"i TOLD you the safety was broken, but nooo you didn't beleive me!" the one yelled to another with a 5 on his face.
Said 5 stamped clone mocked the other openly with his hand opening and closing like a puppet's.
"Rex is gonna kill us" the third huffed "and I'm not going down with you guys this time"
this trooper had the republic's symbol on part of his face
"he won't beleive you!" the fourth cackled still holding the offensive blaster. He had blue lines decorating his face.
They must've felt your staring as the conversation ended like a switch had been flicked. 4 sets of brown eyes narrowed in on you, and suddenly you felt very small.
"so, what's a girl like you doing in a place lik-" the once mocking trooper asked leaning towarss you with a sultry grin
"Give it a rest Fives" the 'normal' looking trooper huffed smacking 'Fives' back, which earned him a glare and a pout
"We're sorry about that...usually there's no civillians around here" the republic-faced trooper then crossed his arms "so you wanna explain yourself, little lady?"
You slowly pulled yourself up and looked at them all cautiously
"I'm waiting on some paperwork to be returned to me...uh...one of your...uh you's took off with it" you said slowly, the words sounded awful as they came out
"Baby, there's only one of me~" Fives grinned leaning into your space. The remark gained him groans and giggles from the others around him. But once again, the 'normal' trooper pulled him back
"I'm so sorry, he...uh...was dropped on his head as a baby"
"ECHO!" Fives yelled throwing his hands up angrily
"You were babies?" you asked softly in confusion
the 4 troopers froze and looked at you as if you had grown a second head
"Of course we were babies, we're human" the one with the lines rolled his eyes
"I just figured you all were in a tube-y thing until you were adults" you added, ya know, to dig yourself a deeper hole
But before any more of your foot could be put into your mouth...the trooper before returned with the flimsi.
"alright, that should fix the issue your father sent you for" the trooper paused and raised a brow at the men surrounding you "Jesse, Hardcase, Fives and Echo. Don't you boys have something better to do?"
They looked to the trooper and seemed to stand a bit taller
"Cody, we uh...were just-" the lined clone sputtered
"What Hardcase means is-" Fives cut in quickly
"Why is there a blaster singe above the lady's head?" Cody practically growled the words as he then turned his gaze to you, eyes roaming your figure breifly then back to the men.
"You see the safety-"
"I told him it wasn't working and-"
"I wasn't here for this shit, I just got caught up in-"
"Alright, enough." Cody groaned touching.his forehead "get out of here, before I call Rex"
Like a pile of womprats, the scattered in a panic.
"I'm sorry" Cody grumbled out "they're just rowdy boys. Thankfully, looks like you didn't get hurt." his tone was a bit kinder and once again you were taken off guard
"uh...yeah, no...I'm uh...I'm okay" you stumbled out
"Great. Did you have an ETA for the starship's repair completion?" he asked moving his helmut from under one arm, to the other
"O-oh, uhm...Dad's been fighting with it all morning...it might take a few more days before he can get the issue rectified. I'll have him send a proper ETA to Master Kenobi when I can get him away from it"
To this Cody chuckled and nodded
"Sounds good, well, off you go" he offered a small smile and turned to go back to whatever it was he was doing before you'd shown up.
You began to walk away and couldn't help but fight with the butterflies in your stomach.
They could smile and laugh like that and your father hated them???
You were sure now, your father must have never met a clone trooper in his life.
Tags: @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat
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thrawns-babygirl · 1 year
Text
Insufferable (Crosshair x Fem!Reader 18+)
Summary: After you and Cross have an argument, he takes care of himself in the shower and he can't stand it.
Word Count: 1064
Warnings: Masturbation (M), Gags, Jealous!Crosshair, pissed off!Crosshair
A/N: Still getting the hang of writing and am scared to do anything with a lot of long form dialogue because its HARD so have some self indulgent Crosshair Smut while I work my way up to longer fics. Please tell me if this is garbage lmao i want to improve
Also pls send in some Crosshair requests! I'm really keen to write for the community otherwise this blog is going to devolve into really derange self indulgent kinks lmao
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Sitting down in The Batch’s barracks after yet another successful mission, the topic of conversation shifted to the competition that Wrecker and Crosshair had every time they engaged with separatist forces. Crosshair was sulking, which was not unusual when you two were in the same room together, you were constantly bickering with one another, sending teasing and oftentimes scathing remarks back and forth trying to get a rise out of one another. Tonight, however it was compounded by the fact that he lost their little contest by a rather large margin.
“Well maybe you would have won if you were actually in the fight with your brothers instead of hiding up on that ridge. But Wrecker won this round fair and square.” You smirk over at the grumpy sniper as you finish up your routine post mission check up of the squad’s vitals. You were rarely needed to provide any actual medical assistance, but you were there to ensure that the Kaminoan’s premier squad was kept in good health in between long stints off-world.
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about being in the field, there is a lot more to it than you think, maybe try going out onto the front lines before you tell me I’m not doing enough, before you tell me I’m hiding” Crosshair bites out at you, removing the toothpick from between his lips and flicking it off to the side, earning him a chiding look from Hunter as it lands on the floor.
“Well I wouldn’t exactly call being a sniper up on a hill away from all the action ‘the front lines’ but whatever makes you feel better about losing Cross” You give him a sickeningly sweet smile as you input the Batch’s vitals into your datapad preparing to retreat to your own quarters for the night. You didn't mean it, the other boys knew you didn't mean it, but he always took the bait and getting a rise out of him was just so fun.
Glaring at you, Crosshair stood up and retreated into the refresher of the Batch’s barracks, grumbling various curses under his breath as he went. When the door closed behind him you turn to Hunter; “Too much?” you ask standing and walking towards the door to their barracks.
“Nah, he’s always dishing out way worse, needs to learn how to take it too” Hunter chuckles as he walks you to the door, he and the rest of the batch wishing you a good night as you turn and head towards the medbay to update their files before turning in for the night.
Closing the ‘fresher door he takes a deep breath his body betraying him as his concealed cock throbs against the hard plastoid of his codpiece.  He begins ridding himself of his armour, letting each piece clatter unceremoniously to the floor with a dull thud. Looking down to his traitorous biology he turned on the water, determined to have a cold shower and get you out of his head. Even if you would never know, he wasn’t going to let you have any power over him as he stands under the icy spray.
You were so utterly annoying, always sending cutting remarks his way, always trying to get under his skin, always trying to one up him. For a lousy doctor who had never seen the front lines you had an awful lot to say about how he and his brothers did their job.
So why couldn’t he get you out of his head? Why did your stupid fucking smirk make him want to tear your clothes off and shove his aching length into your cunt? Why did every back and forth send blood rushing south, ruining his resolve? He hated you… right?
Sighing and closing his eyes he tries to think about anything else to will his erection away, but you would not leave his mind’s eye. You were insufferable, a know it all, absolutely unbearable but also… exactly Crosshair’s type, quick witted, didn’t shy away from his abrasive personality and to top it all off you were gorgeous. Your uniform, while unflattering on most people, hugged your body in all the right ways, accentuating your curves and making you, at least in Crosshair’s eyes, utterly irresistible.
With a resigned sigh, his hand wanders down to his still rock hard, weeping cock. Now angrier with himself than you he begins running his hand along his shaft, thumbing his slit he releases a low groan as he began picturing you in more and more vulgar positions. He imagined you here in the refresher with him, on your knees, mouth open and QUIET for once as he shoved his length in and out of your mouth working up the tempo until he was fucking your face, head of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you gagged around him, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggled to take his girth.
Letting out a choked moan as he continued to fuck his closed fist, he let his mind wander further, to bending you over his bunk in the barracks while his brothers were out doing maker knows what, panties shoved in your mouth to muffle your moans as his hips piston in and out of your soaked pussy. Fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, making his bunk groan out in protest at the wild pace he set, he pictured your muffled whimpers and groans as you took everything that he would give you like a good little slut. Your muscles clenching around him as he grew ever closer to his own release.
He would let you speak only to beg him to let you cum, to beg for him to cum in your cunt, beg for him to claim you. Tell him that only he could give you what you wanted as he pounded into you. He would ruin you for other men. He knows for a fact you’ve fucked regs in the past and the thought made his blood boil. He could fuck you better than any reg ever could. He would leave his mark on your body and soul.
Vigorously stroking his aching length, he brought his hand up to his mouth as he neared his end, biting down as he sprayed the ‘fresher wall with his seed, wanting more than anything to paint your stupid annoying face with his spend as you looked up at him and thank him for his gracious gift.
You were insufferable…. But maybe he didn’t actually hate you.
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arcsimper5 · 2 months
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Left Behind
Excuse the angst, I just watched the Daro episode of Bad Batch over lunch and had to get this out lol.
Title: Left Behind Pairing: None Characters: Scorch (RC-1262), Hunter (CF99) Summary: Scorch fails to remember, but Hunter's capture reminds him of something he ought to. Rating: M (mentions of torture, blood, sad times ahead)
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It had been years since Scorch had gone down to stun bolts. How much time had passed since the Prosecutor mission?
And why couldn’t he remember his squad?
Maker, he felt nauseous.
It had to have been the stun bolts, he reasoned. Memories of Trandoshans, a cell and orange and white armour swam in his head, hazy, as if viewed through fogged transparisteel.
Shaking his head, he felt another of the commandos nudge him as they jolted around in the shuttle.
“RC-1262, are you okay?”
Why was that voice so familiar?
“Fine.”
The answer was almost automatic, his reply short as he nodded.
He was fine. Of course he was fine. He’d been stunned, sure, but he was following orders. It’s what he was bred to do.
Good soldiers follow orders…
Glancing towards the cockpit, he could see the flashes of green, trees speeding upwards as they descended towards the ground.
“All commandos, be advised, we have a target on the ground at your position. Consider armed and dangerous.”
“Think he survived that fall?” one of the TK’s behind him chuckled lowly, the comm channels opened.
“He’s talking, listen,” another one smirked, the mirth in his voice making Scorch’s stomach churn as a voice came over the comms.
“Hunter! Tell them to come back! Order them to come back!”
“I’m sorry, kid. I can’t do that.”
A shiver ran over Scorch’s entire body as the shuttle landed, hand, the ramp still descending even as the troopers in front of him began spilling out.
Mere feet away, he saw their target, a clone with grey and red armour, a vibroknife in hand.
He watched as the target sheathed his blade with a resigned sigh, hands raised in surrender.
“Shows how loyal the clones really are,” one of the TK’s giggled over comms, “left another one behind.”
“No wonder they need to be replaced. What cowards.”
Scorch ignored the comments as he pressed forward, rifle pointed at this ‘Hunter’.
“Weapons on the floor in front of you,” he rasped, body still recovering from the stun bolts.
Hunter complied, pulling his vibroblade and a blaster from their holsters, movements slow and careful as he put them down onto the ground in front of him.
He winced as he moved, Scorch feeling a trembling in his hands that had nothing to do with the stun bolts.
How could they leave him? They operated like a squad who had been together for years, knew each other’s tells and strategies.
He’d never leave one of his men alone, ever. Just the thought, the idea, the…
“Delta lead, get your men under control! One commando isn’t worth risking an entire operation.”
“One commando? He’s talking about my pod brother!”
His own voice sounded foreign in his mind. So emotional, so insubordinate. 
Then pain. Pain ripped from within, a sharp, stabbing sensation, as if someone was trying to pry his brain out of a tiny hole in his skull.
He didn’t know if he screamed, he didn’t know when his armour was removed, or when his weapons were taken. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten the cuts on his hands, the bruises, the blood…
The white lights above him were blinding, his gasping breaths alerting another being in the room to his consciousness.
“W-Where’s S-Sev?” he managed, voice broken and coarse. “Where’s… my squad?”
His eyes were fluttering, pain still radiating from the side of his head. He wanted it to stop. Maker, he’d do anything to make it stop!
“B-Boss… Fixer… S-Sev…”
How had he forgotten them? Forgotten his brothers? The missions, the camaraderie, the awful little shuttle they’d called home for so long… How had this happened?
“RC-1262 seems to be fighting the effects of the chip enhancement once again,” came a dull, slow voice, Kaminoan, it seemed, though not one he recognised.
“Increase the compliance centre levels once more.”
There was a moment of hesitation before the first voice answered.
“With all due respect, Admiral, another increase may damage his brain beyond any working capacity. I would recommend…”
“I do not care what you recommend.”
The venom in the second voice was almost palpable.
“We are losing too many Commandos to the failure of your chips. With CC-5576 having escaped, he will be able to inform our enemies of the functions of our new army. We will require security, the likes of which only elite Commandos can offer. RC-1262 will be reconditioned once again to serve our new Empire, or he will be disposed of, like the others.”
Others?
“Wh-Where are my brothers?”
Panic began to swell sluggishly in his chest, fists tightening as he pulled against the restraints, the lights around him getting brighter.
He could see shadows now, echoes of figures who may have been there, or once been with him.
“Do not move, RC-1262,” came the cold, calm reply as a hypo pierced the skin of his neck, cold numbness spreading through his veins like ice.
“Sc-Scorch,” he managed as the darkness began to overcome him once more, “my… my name is… Scorch…”
The pain began again.
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nahoney22 · 1 year
Text
Prompt List Celebration 3000 Followers
Wrecker X F!Reader
word count: 1,061
NSFW
prompt:
“I get so hard when I’m around you.”
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warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of brief sex, mentions of a muscular reader, kisses, slight dirty talk, steamy work out, female reader. Not established relationship. Not proofread, little rushed.
Authors note: thanks for the awesome request @berryberrybunny for your friend! Enjoy 💜
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Working out with Wrecker always carried a touch of enchantment. Firstly, he was a jovial and affable companion, always offering a helping hand in times of need. Secondly, his formidable strength left you in awe, and he seemed to relish the notion of facing a worthy adversary in the form of your workout prowess. Lastly, his impressive physique was nothing short of a feast for the eyes.
As the two of you convened at the Kaminoan barracks for a late-night workout session, an undercurrent of tension and attraction simmered between you.
With each repetition of the barbell, beads of sweat dripped down your brow, a testament to the intensity of your effort. Wrecker hovered nearby, ready to assist should you need it, but his gaze was firmly fixed upon your arms as they bulged and rippled with each lift. “Maker…” he sighs quietly in amazement, always liking the fact you weren’t shy of showing off your strength.
His eyes roamed over your arms, tracing the curves and contours, leaving him salivating at the sight of such raw power and beauty. Then, his eyes landing to your breasts. Maker, he almost passed out.
His initial thoughts of you as an attractive individual had been elevated to a whole new level as he watched you nearly put him to shame in the weight room. This display of strength and grace left him struggling to keep his passions in check which is why he had to take a step back so you didn’t see his raging hard on.
When done with your work out, you sigh and sit up, wiping your sweat away with a towel and turn to see Wrecker trying to occupy himself by doing sit ups.
“I thought you hated sit-ups?” You smirk as you watch him but he doesn’t reply, seemingly in the zone which was no surprise so you watch him.
Your gaze became unwavering as you watched Wrecker work out. To be fair, it was most often when you watched him you were unable to tear your eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of his muscular bod.
As he moved to start some lifted weights, you can’t help but dreamily sigh whilst you admire the way his biceps bulged and his chest expanded with each movement.
Wrecker caught your gaze in the mirror, his broad grin and inflated ego betraying the admiration he felt towards you. "Why don't you come over and join me, mesh’la?" he called out with a playful grin.
The nickname was a testament to the flirtatious nature of your relationship. The two of you were constantly engaged in a playful banter, and it was only a matter of time before he made his intentions known. You sauntered over, your form-fitting vest top clinging to your sweat-slicked skin, barely concealing your curves.
He couldn't help but lick his lips, the sight of you leaving him salivating with desire.
"You trying to start another competition?" you teased, settling onto a workout mat.
"Maybe," he replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "or maybe I just enjoy watching you work up a sweat." He wasn't exactly lying, as he found immense pleasure in observing your impressive form. Your eyes meet his that sends a wave of heat coursing through your body. He was simply gorgeous, with a rugged, muscular physique that left you breathless. You just had to have him now.
"Very well," you said, settling onto your knees. "I'll start by stretching." And with that, you began to warm up, fully aware of his hungry gaze upon you.
You teasingly bent over, your form-fitting workout pants accentuating the curves of your rear.
"Ooh," he whispered to himself, settling back on his arms as he took in the sight of your physique. The truth was, he couldn't help but be entranced by the sight of you. Your toned legs were a source of constant fascination for him.
His gaze was filled with longing, as he imagined what it would feel like to have your muscular thighs wrapped around his head. He moans softly and unashamedly starts to palm himself over his blacks. Just like you wanted.
You wiggle your bottom a little and when you heard him groan, a grin plants on your face. “Everything alright back there?” You call over your shoulder, very much aware of Wrecker’s goings on.
“Y-yeah you just-.” he chokes, squeezing his balls through his blacks, he can’t hold it in any longer. “I get so hard when I’m around you.”
Bingo.
You spin around quickly, only to be met by the intense gaze of Wrecker. The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, igniting a spark within you that sent your heart racing.
Without a moment's hesitation, you fall into his waiting arms and your lips meet in a fervent embrace.
Wrecker's arms held you tight, cradling you against his strong chest as you lost yourselves in the moment. The depth of his desire was unmistakable, feeling the ache of his cock in his blacks against you as his tongue attacked your mouth. “Do you think there are cameras in here?” You pulled away from his lips, panting and breathless as you already began to grind against him.
“Probably cyare.” He groans, squeezing your arse through your pants. “I don't think the storage cupboard does though.” He pants, a crazy yet adoring look in his eyes.
“Good.” You pull away from him, gracefully stand up and head in the direction of said cupboard.
“Where ya goin’?”
“Finding a good place for you to hurry up and fuck me, what does it look like?” You smirk over your shoulder once you push the door open. Wrecker’s eyes widen at your boldness but once you enter the cupboard and start throwing your clothes to the ground, he’s going to show you exactly what his cock can do.
Shelves are falling, weights are clanging as Wrecker is relentlessly fucking into you, both of you moaning and shouting as loud as you can - getting more aroused the louder you both went. He’s holding you against shelves but with every powerful thrust they come crashing down to the point you’re having the most intense sex on the floor, surrounded by workout mats, dumbbells, empty water bottles, every piece of gym equipment you could get stored away.
Having sex with Wrecker is a workout in itself. Hm, perhaps it’s a routine the two of you could keep up with.
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Masterlist
Prompt List - Only available until the 10th. Please read the rules.
tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @whore4rex @fiveshelmet @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari i @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf f @lucyysthings @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @myinnerwonderlandmind @rintheemolion n @hotpinkplastoid @the-good-shittt @photogirl894
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enigmatist17 · 10 months
Text
Catch me thinking about all the clones "waking" up in the past after their final brother (read Rex and Kix) eventually dies
I want to say they just kind of wake up a handful of years before the clone wars start
Most of the commanders are teenagers, and the original batchers like Fordo/Alpha-17 and all are in their early 20's
At first they don't act on anything, most of them having hidden tearful reunions while the longnecks don't seem to notice a change among their clones
--> Rex has the most challenging time adjusting, having been the last one for so long that it's almost too much to have faces of the past around him. It helps when Fives and Echo find him one night, and the three are just a crying mess in a corner where the longnecks won't think to look for them. Kix joins them wordlessly, having still been silent about his own life years and years after they all had died.
Once they all figure out that almost everyone has "woken" up, it's all too easy to take Kamino for their own. It's before the war, the Jetti don't know them yet, and the chips are told to those who died before/during their activation. Many tears are shed when Order 66 is discussed by the few survivors, and those who had a hand in killing their Jetti only feel guilt until they all collectively realize that it won't happen this time
The Kaminoans don't realize that the clones are taking the city for themselves until it happens. They move way too precisely for non-combatants, but they slice through security and lock down everything like they knew all the codes since birth, and by the end of a rotation Tipoca and its adjoining facilities are under their control.
Jango is confused by what just happened, and even more so when he starts to realize all the clones are speaking a set of mando'a that is entirely that of his clones, and apparently know this language despite not being very old. They don't seem to want to hurt him either, looking at him with eyes that are haunted like those of a veteran soldier. The one he calls Kote eventually takes pity, and after ensuring what he would hear couldn't be recorded or broadcast, they speak.
He speaks of a war that takes so many lives, how he was used and made easy to execute, and how his clones were used and abused until the fall of the Republic and everything else.
Jango is silent the entire time, and eyes Boba sleeping in his room more than once. He had come to Kamino a long time ago to give his DNA, another job on the list, but to hear that the clones adopted what they could from what culture he taught some of the earliest clones stirred something in him.
Overall, Jango doesn't step in their way, and they don't force him to do anything, just awed to see the Prime that only so few had seen the first time.
Someone eventually has the bright idea to alert the Jetti instead of waiting for a few years, and it's decided that Fox would lead the initiative. Fox is honored and no he doesn't tear up a little bit, you saw nothing (he's lying, and the former Guard commander doesn't want to leave Tipoca at first, if he sees Coruscant, it'll be too soon)
He goes anyways, with Hound, Cody, Fordo, and Ponds following suit, a silent Jango hopping onto their ship clad in full armor. The clones have decided to have only Fordo in his armor, and the others are wearing some "civilian" clothes they'd stitched together to try and not be obvious they're all alike. Fox nearly has a panic attack when he lays eyes on the Senate building they pass over, and is surprised when Jango of all people steadies the younger clone.
They don't just walk into the Jedi Temple, instead leaving some carefully placed data sticks where they know they'll be seen, and after refueling head back to Kamino, so as to not alert a specific someone. Fox knows that they'll be soon gathered up by padawans, and that darker forces wouldn't think to search in a random Temple wall.
It takes the Jetti over a month, but when Kenobi's interceptor pierces the stormy clouds, there is a buzz of excitement.
The Jedi in question doesn't understand the sheer outpouring of joy when he steps out of his ship, and has to take a second to ground himself otherwise he'll start grinning (seriously why were they happy, he's never seen them before)
He's not sure what to expect, but the massive facilities that seem to be run by children are...not what he imagined, children with the eyes of battle-worn soldiers that watch his every move.
They don't tell Obi-Wan everything, pretending that they have information from a source that the Sith lord they seek is on Coruscant and that they will not be conscripted for a Republic they know nothing of.
Obi-Wan can tell they're lying a bit, but doesn't press. He also doesn't understand why they would be conscripted in the first place, but the clones are nothing but kind and respectful, with not a hint of darkness amongst any of them.
He stays for a few days, and eventually, the Force itself decides to speed things along and gives Obi-Wan a vision of a future from a sleeping Cody's mind, showing the Jedi years of trust that ended in devastation. Cody wakes up to Obi-Wan wrapped around him, and his heart sings for the first time in so long.
I am Filled With Thoughts
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yukipri · 7 months
Text
The Prime Override - Chapter 58 is up!
Jango - Lukewarm
Sorry that it's been a while! I just have simply not had the time to write, and it's been frustrating me to tears but it is what it is. Just doing my best!
Anyway an update at last! And this fic has also just hit 300K words wtf??? (and much more if you count the chapter endnotes lmao)
This chapter: Jango is stuffed in a crate. He also encounters a familiar face.
In the docking bay, Trapper moves away from the open, cleaner side that they had landed in with all of the Kaminoan ships, and towards a corner with dingy little ships for the miscellaneous other transports unrelated to the GAR. He leads them to a ship that is pathetically small for a cargo ship, and has certainly seen better days. Someone is lounging against the open door, in mildly cleaner clothing than Trapper’s. Given how short and slender they are, Jango judges they’re either an adolescent clone, or perhaps not a clone at all. “I was wondering what was keeping you, darling,” a distinctly feminine voice says. “Shut up, I’m on time,” Trapper grumbles, and simply tosses the crate in through the open door. His partner laughs and moves to the side to avoid getting hit, even as Jango grunts because the hover function doesn’t quite cushion the crate enough, and it skids into the hold with an awful screech. The doors close, and Trapper just leaves Jango there in the main hold, presumably to go pilot. This leaves Jango without a view of his own surroundings, and alone with Trapper’s mysterious partner.
> > Read Ch 58 on AO3
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toska-writes · 1 year
Note
Hello! Could you write the 501st messing around in the rain on Kamino after they get back from a mission with Padawan Y/N? Hardcase figures out how to use the landing zone as a slip n slide and everyone joins in, that would be so goofy 😭✨️💕💖
Thank you so much for the idea!!! It’s so cute and I thought about it all day!
“Rain Rain Go Away”
Paring: Hardcase x GN padawan Reader (you won’t believe me but it’s platonic)
Warning: None!! It’s just fluffy fluff
Word count: 1290
Notes: It’s kinda funny that all my stories with Hardcase have something to do with swimming and water… but I love it!
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Kamino sucked.
You dragged your feet a bit behind you but it seemed everyone was. The mission was successful but with the emergency pit stop to the rainy planet of Kamino for some fuel and other stuff morale seemed to be low.
You stuck close to the side of Anakin and Rex as you walked through the white halls. Part of the 501st that didn't stay behind with the ship followed as well
The smell reminded you too much of a medical station and that everything was way too clean.
As you walked you saw groups of young boys lead either by a kaminoan or another older clone. Some were nice and waved or looked in awe at your group- others not so much.
Some of the towering long necks stopped you and your master with greetings, how all of your closest friends and brothers were raised seeing those everyday was beyond you.
They weren't your favorite life-form and that's for sure.
"Sir are you alright or just do you like walking in my path." Rex joked looking down at you, his helmet covered the obvious smirk on his face.
"Yea just the you know-" You started and instead of saying anything you just gestured to your neck and pointed to the ceiling.
"Not found of the ole-long necks?" Jesse cut in from behind. “They gave me the shivers when I was a cadet.”
It wasn’t your fault they reached the ceiling and had beady eyes. You already were around tall people all the time with the clones and such but they were massive.
The rain stared to pick up again. This time the wind howled and banged against the building, it seemed to be trying its hardest to get inside.
Your mind floated a bit until the sound of a familiar voice rang over the comms. “We would like to request the presence of you and the rest of the men you might have with you at the landing zone.” Hardcase said over the comm, the sound of rain was present while he spoke.
“Everything all right out there?” Anakin sounded anxious as he said it, I mean you did as well since it was Hardcase with a very serious tone and the fact that after a hard battle being suck here wasn’t the first choice of anyone. If there was trouble it wasn’t what everyone wanted right now.
“No sir,” He replied “Just need some extra help.”
Anakin looked to you then over to Rex, the puzzled look on his face was probably mirrored of the Captain beside you.
“We’re on our way.” Your master gave a small shrug; practically saying that there wasn’t anything else that would be entertaining to do of this planet.
Kamino was definitely a lot bigger than you thought, how Rex was getting around so well and leading the group was beyond you.
Anakin and yourself stuck out like a soar thumb- everyone else seemed to know where everything was and some of the people on Kamino. As you all continued your walk you were finally met with the large doors to the Landing pad.
With a quick creek the door opened, wind blew with astonishing speed and water was already trying to seep into your robes.
Squinting out onto the horizon you could barley see the figures out in the storm. These people didn’t seem to give a thought about the rain as they were out in the open and not shielded by the ship that loomed above.
“What are they doing sir?” Rex looked towards Anakin slightly. One of his arm was shielding his face that wasn’t covered by his helmet.
You saw the smile crack on Anakins face as he let out a small chuckle. “Well Rex it looks like they’re playing in the rain.”
You took another look now leaning through the threshold, the rain drops started to kiss your skin slightly.
“Ohhh yeahh.” You smiled now, turning to look back at your master and the rest of the troopers. Anakin nodded his head and you the two of you took off running.
“You coming boys?” Anakin shouted over the pounding sound of the rainfall.
You skirted to a stop as you watch the on going splash wars between Hardcase and a very giggly Fives.
Echo found his place by the arc trooper now helping with the splashing. Being the peace keeper you were you joined in with Hardcase and started trying to splash the domino twins.
Others all around you jumped into the collecting puddles like little kids and the rest of you joined in. The joyous shouts from all around echoed through the flat space of the landing pad, the sound itself was almost as loud as the rain that continued to fall.
“Commander wanna help me with this real quick?” Hardcase now got your attention. He was definitely soaked through as he squinted against the rain but the mischievous grin never left his face.
“Sure Hardcase what is it?” You were at his side now. He gave you one end of a dark roll of something that he found in the ships under storage.
“Tarp.” He answered quickly as he stared to walk backwards unrolling the Tarp. “Saw some kids on a campaign a while ago playing with something like this.”
“They played with a tarp?” You laughed. Now you got the attention of a few others.
“Called it a Slip n Slide.” The name made you laugh a bit as he finally reached the end of the tarp. He swatted his hand to the side signaling for you to move out of the way as he took a step back.
“And this boys,” He shouted over the rain “Is how you use one.” He ran up to the edge then threw himself to the ground.
To your amazement the rain and the tarp brought him all the way to the end and to your feet. “Woah Hardcase it worked!” You shouted to him as you got up.
He pumped his fist into the air as some other brothers shouted in victory.
You ran with his to the other edge of the Slip n Slide now waiting excitedly. You watched as Fives Echo and Dogma rush down the slip together in a huge heap.
Laughed escaped all around as others jumped onto the Slip n Slide now, all trying to slide further then the last.
You grabbed Hardcases hand and pulled him onto the slide. Wind and rain rushed past you as the cold water soaked fully through your robes now; but nothing in the whole galaxy seemed to matter now.
As you stood towards the end of the slide you witnessed a sight to see- Anakin and Rex slid down the slide together with more and more brothers rushing down behind them.
The kamino light seemed to dim as the dusk carried on- the entire 501st didn’t seem to notice however as everyone continued to take turns riding down the Slip n Slide.
Hardcase was a mad genius for this as you practically pushed him down the slide this time.
You laughed in victory until a slippery hand caught your ankle and you were on the ground in a blink of an eye.
“HARDCASE!” You yelled. Many other Vodes and Jedi alike laughed at the scene before them.
The smile on your face seemed to never leave yours or anyone face in these moments- I mean how could it.
Jealous cadets watched from the windows as they passed, and kaminons slightly shook there heads but refused to saying anything since there was a Jedi General and Commander with the clones.
For once while on Kamino you didn’t wish for the rain to stop.
—————————————————————
Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza
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Note
May I request some angsts? Maybe Reader the Bad Batch’s Jedi and when Crosshair turns full imperial, Reader betrays the batch to join him ?
(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: The Deal
(Author's Note: This request was from a while back. I apologize that it's taken so long!!! I hope you don't mind I tweaked it a bit. Reader isn't a jedi, but fought alongside the squad during the war. I hope you enjoy!).
Word Count: 1,490
Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence/sad events in Clone Wars
“________, what are you doing?” Hunter questioned.  He stood with arms spread out, blaster pointed down, but grasped firmly in his hand, ready to use if necessary.  You could still see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes.
“My job,” you replied.
The two of you circled each other in an agonizingly slow dance around the clearing of the forest.  “I don’t understand why you’re with them.  Something’s not right with this Empire, and you know it.”
Of course you knew it.
The events that transpired had been nothing short of horrific.  You’d watched the love of your life take aim and try to shoot down a kid.  Whether the kid was a traitor or not, the Crosshair you knew wouldn’t have done such a thing - not unless something was seriously wrong.  Not to mention he was all too eager to complete the awful mission that Tarkin had assigned the squad, to eliminate “insurgents,” which turned out to be civilians who would not submit to the Empire.
Upon returning to Kamino, they’d taken the sniper away from the rest of you.  It took a great effort on the troopers’ part to keep you in the cell while he was escorted out.
It wasn’t long afterwards that the squad managed to escape.
During the confrontation on the landing platform, you stayed behind while the others escaped with their gear aboard the Marauder.
Crosshair had given the order to have you placed in a new cell until further notice.
Something definitely changed in him since they took him away.  There was a new resolve in his demeanor, but not a resolve against the orders of the Empire.
Even so, he visited you.  It made you hopeful every time you saw his face on the other side of the cell’s barriers, like perhaps he’d come to his senses.  But each time, your hopes crashed to the ground after a few minutes of gazing at each other in tense silence before he’d place a toothpick between his teeth and leave.
Something was definitely wrong.
One day, a pair of troops approached, lowering the shield so that you could exit the cell.  They escorted you down a few hallways until you arrived at a door.  It slid open to reveal a typical Kaminoan meeting room- plain white with a few chairs in front. 
A man you didn’t recognize walked in wearing Imperial military garb.  He dismissed the other troops before approaching you with hands folded behind his back, speaking courteously.
“Ah, so you’re ________.  It is a pleasure.”
You lifted a brow.  “Have we been introduced?”
“Indeed not.  This is our first meeting.  I am Admiral Rampart.  You’re probably wondering why you’ve been brought here.”
You didn’t dignify him with a response to his statement.  You only shook your head, changing the subject.  “Where’s Crosshair?”
“See, that is precisely why you’re here.”
“What?”
“I witnessed your interaction with him, though briefly.  The two of you seem to have a bond.”
“That’ll happen when you’ve been on as many missions as we have.  Our entire squad has a bond.”
“But yours with CT-Nine-Nine-Zero-Four is different.”
You clamped your mouth shut, not wanting to give him any more reason to believe his theory.  He was entirely on the mark, but who knew what he would do with this information?
Rampart chuckled, idly walking to the other side of the room to glance out the viewport at the stormy seas outside.  “There’s no need to be alarmed.  The Republic discouraged such relationships, but you may come to find that the Empire is a little more lenient.”
You snapped your gaze toward him in surprise.  He turned his head to give you a sideways glance.  His tone remained light, breezy, as he continued.
“You are an experienced soldier, having previously assisted Clone Force Ninety-Nine on many missions, like you said.”  Rampart unclasped his hands.  “Very impressive military record.  It makes you a prime candidate for my new program as a conscripted soldier.”
“And why would I ever do that?” 
“Because you could face criminal charges as an insurgent.  You are a traitor against the Empire, after all.  Or you could put your skills to use.  You could take advantage of this opportunity and remain at CT-Nine-Nine-Zero-Four’s side.”
“Crosshair,” you interjected.
He paused, repeating the name like it was a foreign language, trying to hide the disdain in his tone.  “Yes, Crosshair’s, side.”
You tore your gaze from Rampart’s, experiencing a weight like that of the entire galaxy on your chest.  What this man was offering was not at all what you’d been expecting.
“You’ve seen how we deal with traitors, _________,” he urged.  “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.  You can make a difference.  You will be able to serve the galaxy.  You and CT- Crosshair won’t be separated again.”
When you did not immediately reply, he nodded.  “I can see you need some time to think.  I will summon you again tomorrow.  Give me your answer then.”
That night, you saw nothing but Crosshair’s face in your dreams.
The rest was history.
So there you were, following orders to assist in tracking down the Bad Batch as an Imperial soldier.  You wished it wasn’t so.  You wished Crosshair wouldn’t be so adamant about finding his old squad, and you wished he didn’t order you to accompany him on these chases.
You and Hunter continued to circle each other, blasters in hand.  His initial bewilderment gave way to confusion and disappointment at seeing you poised to capture them.
“What happened?” he asked. “I know they have Crosshair under their control with that chip, but they can’t have brainwashed you.”
“I didn’t leave with you guys,” you answered with a shrug.  “I was worried about Crosshair.  After being imprisoned again on Kamino, my options were pretty limited.  It was either go on trial for crimes against the Empire, or this.”
Hunter’s shoulders relaxed, and he removed his helmet to reveal hope in his eyes.  He lowered his blaster.  “Now is your chance, ________.  Come with us.”
“I…I can’t.”  You shook your head.  “The reason I took this deal…”
Hunter’s gaze softened as realization dawned on him.  “It was to stay with him, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.  I can’t leave now, not with all of the shady things going on.”
A million and one questions roamed around Hunter’s mind at your words, but time was short.  “So this is it.  This is how it has to be.”
“I’m afraid so.”  You grasped your blaster tighter, stealing a glance over your shoulder.  Thinking quickly, you fired a few shots into the dirt just in front of him.  You had to make it appear that you weren’t on his side, but it seemed Hunter saw through your attempt.  
Hunter put his helmet back on and gave you one last nod before disappearing into the brush.
You exhaled, preparing an explanation that your superior would undoubtedly demand.
Crosshair’s armored form emerged from the forest to your right, carrying his rifle.  “Where’d they go?”
“They escaped.”  You could almost feel Crosshair’s skeptical eyes boring into you through his visor as he walked over to stand directly in front of you.
“Is that so?”
Crosshair’s helmet tilted down as he observed the blaster marks in the dirt.
“I see.  How… unfortunate.”
He had to know.  He had the sharpest eyes and never missed a thing.  It’s not like the direction of your blaster marks made sense.  Not to mention you’d simply given up on the chase.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for Crosshair to point these things out, but the comments never came.  He merely reached up with his fingers to tilt your chin so that you would face his visor.  The silent exchange was brief, but made your heart race for a different reason.  He turned and started back toward the ship, and you knew that was your cue to follow.
His behavior was most intriguing.  You were certain that he would’ve said something.  You’d never hindered him in a chase before, but that was only because he’d never come this close to capturing the squad.  Now that he finally had his opportunity, you’d foiled it- and obviously so- yet he didn’t mention it.
Unless he wanted them to escape.
Could it be?  If that was the case, then why was he the one always petitioning his superiors for permission to go after the squad if he was going to let them get away?
Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.  Each day seemed to bring about new mysteries.  You missed the Batch.  Funny enough, even though Rampart had kept true to his end of the deal that you wouldn’t be parted from Crosshair, you found yourself missing Crosshair.  He was there, but it often didn’t feel like he was there.
You could only hope that your quiet investigations would amount to something, that you’d find a way to set him free.
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It really remains weird that 'decomission' is still that big of a fandom headcanon considering that prosthetics are basically dirt cheap in the Galaxy. Even the idea that bacta can be a scare resource is only from Legends, not the movies or TCW. As awful as it is to say, with how profit-oriented the Kaminoans are I can't see them killing their very expensive Clones - especially since each one of them takes 10 years to get replaced.
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eloquent-apollo · 3 months
Note
For the WIP ask… I must know what Obi-Wan messing with the Kaminoans is about 😂
OH GOD OKAY SO
For minor context: I just,,, whenever I am in a serious writers block I will write the dumbest shit I can think of to get myself out of if. My logic is if its supposed to be hot garbage thats funny then it doesnt have to be good (because I am a perfectionist…. And a single typo will make me go howls moving castle hairdye scen)
So this fic is a “holy shit I am so blocked right now” type of fic
Set during attack of the clones, Obi-Wan goes to Kamino to find out who tried to assasinate Padmè. When he finds the Kaminoans expect him though, he goes along with it a little too much. Featuring amongst other things:
A Kaminoan who allegedly (according to Obi-Wan) cheated on her own husband with a fish
James Bond esque villain Cody
Fake marriage between Obi-Wan and Cody
And more!!!
Anyway this fic is not to be taken seriously but here is a sneak peek
“You will be glad to know the production of your army is well on it’s way,” the woman says, trying to steer towards a safer topic.
Obi-Wan decides not to let the topic go despite the gracious out he has been given.
“Yes well, we will talk about all of that later with the prime minister. Tell me about your honey moon first. I’m so sad I missed out on the news letter you and… Bob had sent out. You know, with the fire and all that.”
The Kaminoan is now looking at him like Obi-Wan grew a second head. What kind of name is Bob? The ocean is starting to look rather tempting again. From the look on the Kaminoans face, she too is considering sending Obi-Wan out for a swim. With weights strapped to his legs. And his arms bound so he can’t swim.
“The fire?” she asks.
“Ah yeah, my beard caught fire. Awful affair, really. I had to be hospitalised for days. I know you told me to be more careful when I blow out candles on cakes, but I got too close again. That’s why I keep my beard so short now. You know how long it used to be.”
Obi-Wan has no idea where this is coming from, but his mouth won’t stop talking and with every word that tumbles out he is digging his grave deeper and deeper.
“Right,” The woman says. “I remember now, your husband send us a letter about it. Sorry I didn’t visit, I was holding a funeral for Timmy.”
Not the fish! How could she kill her own precious son. Okay well, she didn’t say *she* killed him, but she is definitely Obi-Wan’s prime suspect. He is trying to decide whether or not they are close enough that he would have gotten an invite to the funeral, or if it’s safe to ask how he died when the woman goes on again. She is apparently as committed to the bit as Obi-Wan is at this point.
“Sorry me and Bob didn’t invite you. We were going to, but it was all so last minute and then your husband send us that message about your hospitalisation. Timmy was ran over by a car, you see… It was all very tragic.”
Obi-Wan is trying to figure out what kind of person let’s a fish go out into a busy road, when the woman suddenly stops.
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