Ct 2224 - Tumblr Posts

First round of CT/CC wallpapers

rex, cody, wolffe, howzer, gregor

i have a few more of this series in process, but PLEASE message me if i haven’t done a clone you would like :)

like and reblog to save a graphic designers life! <3

Whumpril Day 13: Burry Vision/"I Think I Need to Sit Down."

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars.

Summary: Obi-wan gets wounded by Grievous. Cody's in there to just wait till closer to the end.

    Blood poured from Obi-wan's head. He had been slammed into a nearby wall by General Grievous. The Jedi stood back up swiftly and pushed off the wall. He swung his lightsaber towards his foe.

    As the fight continued Obi-wan's strikes became less coordinated. His vision started to blur. The nearby blaster fire mixed with the color of Grievous's blue lightsabers. It confused him. Using the force to find where the blades would be coming from, Kenobi looked for a way out. He had two goals now, don't let any more of the men be killed by Grievous and survive.

    The 212th had the upper hand in the fight. The main issue was Obi-wan's injury. He hoped to stick it out until Grievous would eventually retreat. Blinking he tried to get rid of the blurriness.

    A few minutes felt like an hour and Grievous was gone. "This isn't over Kenobi" he spoke calmly and angrily.

    "Of course it's not" he whispered. Obi-wan wanted to come up with something to say but his splitting headache made it difficult to think.

    Obi-wan stumbled around the area, trying not trip over droids and over his men's bodies. A shot from behind startled him. Turing around, lightsaber drawn, he heard a voice. "Obi-wan!"

     He saw the white and he saw the orange meaning the voice had to be a member of the 212th. Which member he wasn't sure at first.

    A new droid laid on the ground behind him. The clone jumped over it and ran up to his jedi. "Are you alright?" A hand carefully touched the man's upper arm and Obi-wan knew who it was.

    "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you dear."

    "Don't thank me; thank Wooly. 

    Obi-wan looked around, trying to find Wooly. "Thank you."

    "That's not Wooly."

    "Oh. Where is he?"

    "I'm right here General. Anytime."

    Obi-wan took a few shaky steps forward. Cody held his arms out just in case he needed to catch the other.

    The Jedi stopped for a second. " I think I need to sit down"  His legs gave out from underneath him. Cody slid and caught him.

    "Wooly." Cody sounded scared. Woolly moved in and grabbed the general and took him to the triage. His wound would be taken care of there.

    Later Obi-wan would wake up. His head throbbed but at least he could see clearly. Looking around he tried to find his commander.

    After a little while Cody would appear to check on his lover. "Hey dear" he kneeled down to Obi-wan, "how are you feeling?"

    "Better. That was a good catch."

    "Thanks. I've gotta go but I figured I should check on you."

    "Go on." Cody nodded and left.

    Obi-wan could deal with a concussion. Cody would get him up every hour, even though he told him it wasn't necessary. 

    Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of the memory of his lovers kindness. The sandy planet of Tatooien was lonely. His vision blurred and he sighed knowing, even if he was never supposed to have it, he would never have it again. Cody was gone, not dead, but gone. He was forever out of reach. There was no one to help him, no one to dry his tears and there never would be again.

Whumpril Day 14: Holding back tears/"I said I'm fine."

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Notes: Bear with me. I hate dialogue. Also no beta reader we die like Mayday.

Mando'a used: Cyara: Love. Vod: Sibling

Summary: An unwanted visitor comes to the planet the 212th is on. After being separated from the others Cody and Obi-wan talk.

Obi-wan knew something was wrong when his commander and him had been separated from the others. What was worse was Darth Maul's looming presence. He wanted, more than anything, to keep his soldiers safe. Unfortunately the sith would have other plans.

    Cody followed Obi-wan closely. They had gotten lost before, got separated from the others before. Why this time was so different, he didn't know. Obi-wan wasn't outwardly panicked but the man saw right through him. Cody tried to assure him that everything was going to be fine but he didn't seem convinced.

It felt like the two were wandering around aimlessly. Time passed and suddenly Obi-wan felt a disturbance in the force. Fear. Fear was followed by pain and death. It was familiar as in war it practically surrounded him.

Tears started to gather in his eyes. Once more Obi-wan had failed to protect the people he cared about. He failed to protect them over and over. Qui-gon, Satine, all the innocents that got caught in the crossover were gone and maybe if he had been stronger he could have saved them.

Obi-wan's pace started to quicken; not that he hadn't already been walking quickly. Cody took a few larger steps to get in front of the other. "What's going on?" He demanded. "We've been separated from the battalion before, what's nothing you.?" He came off rather harsh, though it wasn't attended to be that way.

Then he saw the tears that Obi-wan tried to keep from escaping his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The Jedi pushed past the clone.

"No you're not. W-"

"I said I'm fine!" For the first time Obi-wan snapped at him. The man stopped walking.

"No you're not." Cody remanded calm. "What's going on? What are you not telling me?"

"Maul" he whispered, "it's Maul. I know I'm not supposed to be, but I'm scared, Cody; I'm scared of him. I can't save them, I've never been able to save them from him." Obi-wan started to walk again. "That doesn't mean I won't try." A few tears crawled their way out of his eyes.

Cody wasn't sure what to say. "Cyara, we'll find them. It'll be okay." Words slowly formed, "it's not your fault."

"He's here to hurt me Cody. Not physically. He already found some of the men."

Cody's fear rose. He loved his vods. "We find Maul. I'm not sure what to do from there but we have to do something." The clone was almost walking faster than Obi-wan now.

"Just try to stay close."

The two would walk to find Maul. Rather it was their last fight together they didn't know. Both were terrified, for the path in front of them was unknown. Whatever it was, they would face it together.

They wouldn't find Maul. The message had been delivered. No where was safe. The commanding officers helped the injured. The Jedi informed the council that someone else would have to be sent to the planet.

Tears would border his eyes once more, not brave enough to move any closer. They would betray him if they moved any closer. The Jedi are supposed to care for everything, but this would be different. His emotion needed to stay known to him and him only.

After the call he still couldn't let the tears fall. Obi-wan's men needed a strong leader. He walked out of the woods to the clearing the soldiers rested in. Now to take care of the aftermath of a man's hatred.

HE WAS IN THE WHAT?

CW flashing/strobing lights

Whumpril Day 27: Stepped On

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Warnings: Violence and major character death

Summary: Cody had a run in with General Grievous.

    When Commander Cody saw General Grievous he knew things were about to go down hill and fast. His general hasn't been there and the clones by themselves couldn't really do much against him. He ordered a retreat. What else could he really do?

    This didn't spare his men. One by one the small group was killed off. With Cody the last one standing he backed himself into a corner. He shot at the Separatist but of course it couldn't help him.

    Grievous grabbed him and forced him to the ground. Helplessly Cody looked up at the cyborg. He stepped on the clone, tightening his foot around his body. Cody couldn't breathe. The metal started penetrating his armor then skin. He felt something breaking. Tears welled in his eyes from the pain.

    Obi-wan entered the hallway. His heart felt like it stopped when he saw the scene in front of him. He retched his arm out and stopped the attack with the force.

    As gently as he could he pulled Grievous from his commander. He pushed him into a nearby wall and ran to the clones side. "Cody. Hold on, okay?"

    The Jedi removed the chest plate from the other tenderly. Then he grabbed his cape and pressed it into the injuries. He grabbed Cody's arms and pressed them against the wounds. "Try to hold that for me dear."

    Kenobi stood. He ignited his lightsaber and walked towards Grievous. The two engaged in a duel and before long Grievous would retreat.

    Cody struggled to stay awake. He was in pain and still couldn't breathe well. The force from the man felt like it would be the end of him.

    After the dual Obi-wan quickly moved back to Cody. He gently picked him up and took him to Wooly. "He needs help." The Jedi's voice was shaky.

    Wooly grabbed him. He set him down quickly. He pressed two fingers to the commander's neck. Nothing. That can't be right.

    Wooly checked again. Nothing. He felt colder than normal. The clone looked up to his general. He had tears in his eyes. "How is he?"

    "Sir. He's gone." Wooly motioned to Cody's body and two soldiers came to move him.

    "That can't be right. He's gonna be fine." Obi-wan spoke.

    "General, I'm sorry." Wooly knew that the two were close but he didn't expect denial.

     "Are they going to help him?" Obi-wan asked when the two soldiers took Cody away.

    "Yeah, they will help him." Should Wooly have lied, no. But they needed their general. It wasn't ideal but if Wooly kept on pushing then he would crush the jedi. Huh ironic.

Codywan Week Day 3: Only One Bed

Summary: While going to aid a senator when he is threatened with assassination they run into a 'problem', there's one bed.

    Obi-wan and Cody had been sent to assist a senator after they got word that a assassination attempt was suspended to happen in a few days. When they arrived the senator greeted them kindly and thanked them for coming. He led them to a room they could stay in.

    "I'm sorry it's not bigger" he said, "it's just the room closest to mine which I thought would be safer."

    "No worries, we'll make do." Obi-wan joked.

    The senator smiled. "I'll let you settle in."

    "Thank you senator." Cody said. Then the man closed the door. He looked at the room. There was a small window, a bathroom attached to the room, and a nightstand. As well as one twin sized bed.

    Obi-wan walked over to it. He sat down at the end of the bed. "Have you ever slept on a real bed commander?"

    Cody thought about it, "no, I don't think I have."

    "Come here."

    Cody complicated. He sat down expecting the bed to be hard. The softness of the mattress surprised him.

    "You can lay down if you'd like." Obi-wan smiled.

     Cody didn't hesitate. He laid right down. He grinned.

    "It will be more comfortable without your armor. We can settle in for the night."

    "Are you sure?" Cody asked.

    "I'm sure." Cody took off his armor and laid back down. 

    "Comfortable?" Obi-wan asked.

    "Very."

    Obi-wan took off his shoes and sat on the other side of the bed. "Want the blanket?" he laughed as he got it off the end of the bed and unfolded it.

    It was softer than Cody expected. All the blankets the clones get feel like thin towels. He laid back down and Obi-wan watched him as he fiddled with the fabric.

    He smiled and laid down next to him. Looking over at Cody he looked so calm. He seemed quite content. It sent butterflies into Obi-wan's stomach. He looked at Cody's hand. It was very close to his own.

    Without the time to really think about it, he placed his own on Cody's hand. Cody shifted to his side and looked at Obi-wan. Well sort of. The darkness wouldn't let the secret of Cody's smile be revealed.

    As Obi-wan went to remove his hand, not wanting Cody to be uncomfortable he felt Cody's grip tighten. His face felt hot and he moved a little bit closer to the clone.

    The two fell asleep not long after. When they awoke they didn't talk about it. They didn't talk about the next night when Cody ended up spooning Obi-wan. They didn't talk about how close their bodies were or how much they wanted to be closer.

The assassination attempt was stopped and their mission was over even though either of them really wanted it to be. All good things come to an end.

Cody had gone to get the ship ready as Obi-wan talked to the senator. "I have a question, and I'm sorry if it's out of line."

"Oh, what is it?" The senator looked confused.

"Would you happen to have a really soft blanket you would be willing to part with? The commander was quite fond of the one we had." Obi-wan asked. He sounded hesitant.

"Of course! That's not a problem." He asked one of his droids to go and get the one from the room the two had occupied.

She brought it back quickly and Obi-wan smiled as he thanked the senator. The senator was more than happy to be able to do something for the two.

Obi-wan was so excited to give the blanket to Cody. He knew it would mean so much to him. As he walked up to the ship he put the blanket behind his back and smiled. This would be fun.

@codywanweek

Whump: The Musical Day 3: Jesus Christ Superstar (betrayed)

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: Crosshair turns Cody in when he suspects he is going to desert.

Cody loved Crosshair, but right now he hated him. Right now he hated him more than he hated himself, which was a lot. When during their last conversation he may have implied he was done with the empire, he didn't expect Crosshair to turn him in for suspected desertion.

But as he grabbed him armor and his blaster to leave, there was a knock at the door. It was more of an accident than anything. The door opened. A few men came in, Crosshair one of them.

"What are you doing here Crosshair? It's 0200. What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Cody put down his helmet. He looked at Crosshair, betrayed. "Oh."

"Arrest him."

Reaching for his gun, Cody kicked one of the men away. Then he stunned the other. Picking his helmet back up, he pushed past Crosshair who shot at him with live rounds. He knew his brother doesn't miss without a reason but Cody didn't want to stay long enough to figure out what that reason was.

Turning the corner, the commander tripped over his feet and hit the wall. Pushing himself off the wall, he kept running down the hall. There was no way he was going to get taken by the empire. He knew what happened and while there was a chance he would deserve a fate as cruel as the other captives, he also knew he didn't want it.

It was hard to believe that Crosshair had turned him in. They had been so close during the war. He was the only one he told about his private life other than Obi-wan and Rex. At least the deeper parts of his private life. The parts that no one but them needed to know.

Crosshair was the last one alive. The death of Nova, Wyler, and the governor of Desix were Cody's last straw. He needed to know why the clones killed the Jedi, why they followed every order like droids.

Running down the hall, Cody tried to ignore every thought he was having. At the time, he didn't have the time to be angry with Crosshair or himself. Right now, he needed to focus on getting out of the building and off world. From there, the man didn't know. It was a start.

There were troopers at the door. Cody stunned them and slammed the doors open. He avoided hurting the men that laid on the ground. Crosshair turned the corner and ran after him. Outside, Cody realized that the sniper had caught up to him.

The Battle Memorial was always lit up. At least for now. With the way the empire treated the clones, it would have surprised Cody if when the lights started to die, the empire wouldn't replace them. As he ran past it, a bullet met the back of the man's left knee. He fell to the ground and turned to face Crosshair.

"I'll give you a chance to fix this, commander."

"Do you really think you're doing a good thing?"

"I'm following orders."

"But we are more than just orders. We are living people. Yet we keep acting like we don't know right from wrong! I'm done following orders when I know they are wrong."

Crosshair was silent, like he didn't know what to say. Either way, he was going to see this though.

"Out of everyone, I thought you would understand. I guess I was wrong."

Other troopers came to assist Crosshair. "Grab him and take him to a cell."

"It's not too late to change your mind Cross. Do what's right. See through your orders, before it gets you killed."

Without saying a word, Crosshair stunned Cody. He felt betrayed. After his batch had already left him, the only reg he liked had to go and try to desert. The men took Cody to a cell.

Even if Cody had become a traitor, Crosshair still watched him closely. But one day he disappeared. He was quietly transferred somewhere. When the sniper tried to learn more, there was no information to be found. Hopefully he was okay.

June of Doom Day 2: "Who Did This to You?" (Alt Promt)

Fandom: The Clone Wars

Summary: After a fight, Obi-wan goes to talk to Cody.

    "Can I come in?" Obi-wan asked Cody.

    Cody looked at Obi-wan. He seemed shaken and looked like he had been in a fight. His lip was bleeding, he had a colorful bruise on the side of his face, and his arms were wrapped around his stomach as if it hurt. "Come in."

    Slowly, Obi-wan walked in the room. Sitting on Cody's bed, he sighed.

    "Who did this to you?" Cody walked over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue.

    Hesitantly, the Jedi started to speak. "Anakin did."

    "What?" Cody hadn't meant to ask.

    "Anakin, did."

    The clone walked over to Obi-wan and sat beside him. Gently pressing the tissue against his bleeding lip. "What happened?"

    Moving Cody's hand so he could speak, Obi-wan told him what happened.

    "It was an argument. Anakin gets angry faster than he used to. I think the war changed him. He's always been somewhat angry, it's just how he is. I've tried to help him, but I'm not sure anyone can."

    "Are you okay?"

    "I'm okay. I know Anakin will come find me to apologize. I'm okay."

"Does this happen often?" Cody asked quietly.

"No. We argue but we hardly fight."

"Let me see your side."

Sighing, Obi-wan moved his arms. Carefully, Cody moved the Jedi's clothing out of the way. A colorful bruise had started to form. It was a mix of dark purple, red, and yellow.

The clone stood after readjusting Obi-wan's clothing. He walked over to his bedside table and opened the top drawer. Grabbing a bottle of Tylenol, Cody shook two of the pills into his hand. "Here." After he handed the man the medicine, he grabbed the glass of water on the table and passed it to him.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Stay as long as you need."

After taking the medicine, Obi-wan laid down on the bed. Cody didn't like how normal this seemed to his general. While shaken, he didn't seem surprised.

Laying down beside Obi-wan, Cody knew he would watch the two close. After all, he couldn't stand to see people he cared about hurt.

Codywan Week Day 1: Lightsaber

Summary: After the last time Obi-wan lost his lightsaber, Cody decides to add a place for it with him by altering his armor.

    Jedi were funny about their lightsabers, or at least Cody's was. "This weapon is your life" he would say to Anakin Skywalker. Then he would lose his in the first five minutes of a battle. Somehow Cody always ended up with it. Something about the situation made Cody laugh. Obi-wan was somewhat of a hypocrite.

    With as often as Cody had the saber, he started to try to find a way to hold on to it easier. He wanted to keep it safe. The man knew he needed a lightsaber clip of some kind. That way he could attach it to his armor.

    Walking around the Jedi temple always felt so inviting. Looking around, Cody looked for any Jedi he might know. When he didn't see anyone he recognized, he walk up to a random Jedi and asked where he could find lightsaber clip.

    "Obi-wan break his again?" The Jedi asked, chuckling.

    "Yes sir."

    "Go down the hall and take a left. There's a supply closet. It should be the first room on the left."

    "Thank you sir." Cody smiled and walked away. The Jedi Temple was a beautiful place. It was easy to get lost in, but with all of the stories he had been told, the place never felt like much of a maze to him.

    Finding the supply closet, Cody opened the door and walked inside. He looked around until he found some clips. The box had a verity of different colors. Mostly they were neutral colors but a few were colorful. There was a few orange ones. Cody held one in his hand and decided that since orange was on brand, he would choose that one.

    Walking out of the closet, he headed back to his room. Sitting the room, Cody started his modifications to his armor and belt. With the clip attached to his belt, he carved out a small divite in his armor that went around his hip. That way the saber would fit nicer.

    The clip looked nice with his armor. The shade of orange was nearly the same. If the shade difference started to brother him, he'd paint it later.

    It didn't take Obi-wan long to realize the change in his commander's armor. They were outside by The Great Tree. The weather was nice so the man had gone to meditate by the tree. Cody had gone to find him to let him know that Anakin was looking for him.

"Cody? What do you need dear?" Obi-wan opened his eyes.

"General Skywalker is looking for you."

Sighing, Obi-wan stood. "Where is he?"

"By your room."

Smiling at him, Obi-wan thanked Cody. Something seemed different. It looked like Cody was waiting for something so the Jedi scanned him for answers. That when he saw the orange lightsaber clip attached to his belt.

    "Did you attach a lightsaber clip to your belt?"

    "I did. I end up with it enough." Cody smiled.

    Embarrassed, Obi-wan chuckled.  Looking around, he grabbed his lightsaber. Then he stepped closer to the clone and placed the saber on his hip. "It fits perfectly." With a small kiss on his commander's cheek, the Jedi stepped away from him. 

     "This weapon is your life. I can't let you lose it." The two looked into each other's eyes.

    Clone armor is the most personal thing a clone can have. They use it to express themselves. The patterns and design are as important to them as how it functions. It meant the universe to Obi-wan that Cody would change it to accommodate his lightsaber.

   "Thank you dear." Looking around again, Obi-wan checked for anyone. When he saw there was no one he stepped closer to Cody once again. Gently, he placed his hands on Cody's face. Slightly pulling them together, Obi-wan kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Codywan Week Day 2: The Wise Man's Fear

Summary: Cody is a very gentle man. It takes a while for him to truly get angry. However, when Obi-wan is shot, he finds it hard to control his emotions.

    There are three things every wise man fears: the sea in a storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man. Cody was a gentle and kind man. He had a good heart and few fears.

One of those fears was losing those he was close to. In a war, Cody knew it was likely; the death of a loved one. The man had already lost close friends.

Now on the battlefield, the clone faced the thought of losing his general. Cody should have known loving a Jedi was a bad idea. When Obi-Wan got shot, he didn't know what to do.

    Taking Obi-wan lightsaber may not have been the best idea. With the droids closing in on them, Cody made the decision to give them a chance they might not have. Switching it on, the clone walked towards the droids.

    He swung the saber into the metal droids. It was harder to hold then he expected. Cody was angry, it was time he expressed it. His brothers died around him everyday and now he was being faced with the possible death of the love of his life. He was tired of it.

    The saber sliced though the droids with ease, even with the saber being heavy. Cody knew why, the saber wasn't his. Still, he could feel it getting lighter. It was like the crystal was excepting him.

As the droids fell, he could feel his anger grow. Even so, it seemed to be working. With his brothers fighting back, the group of droids grew smaller and smaller. Soon Cody was standing over a pile of scrap metal, breathing heavily.

The clones around him had never seen Cody act like that before. Switching the saber off, he walked back to the main group. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

Still trying to calm down, Cody nodded. "Is Obi-" he paused. "Is the general okay?"

"He should be." The medic informed him.

"Good. We'll finish the campaign without him." Cody took a look at the lightsaber in his hand.

"Do you know how to use that?" One of the men asked. "It came some natural to you."

"Only a little." Cody said. He had spent hours watching Obi-wan practice.

The gentle man still felt the anger in his heart. Breathing steadily, Cody calmed himself. "Okay." Putting Obi-wan's lightsaber on his belt, the commander started to walk forward. "Let's move out."

Codywan Week Day 3: Soulmate au

Summary: When you touch your soulmate for the first time you can see color. When Cody and Obi-wan first met, they discovered just how colorful the galaxy can be.

    The world was so boring in shades of gray. But that was all Obi-wan knew. That was all most people knew for the earlier parts of their lives. You would wait until you met your soulmate. Then once you touched them, your world would fade into color.

    Obi-wan had always wanted to see the color of the universe had to offer. Now he is 34 and waiting. A war had begun and he was a general. He still needed to meet the people under his command.

    The first time the Jedi saw his commander, he felt like they would get along. "I'm Obi-wan Kenobi. We'll be working together."

    "Commander Cody." He reached his hand out for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you."

    As the two shook their hands, the room seemed to light up. The shades of gray they both had lived with their whole lives faded into shades of red, blue, and more. Yet the color that took Obi-wan by surprise was the color of Cody's eyes. They were a simple brown yet stunning. "You have very beautiful eyes."

    "Thank you." Cody said. The two stared at each other for a moment. They didn't let go of the other's hand or break eye contact as they stood there. "I like yours."

    "Thank you." The two let go of each other but stayed locking eyes. "What color do you think they are?"

    Breaking eye contact, Cody walked over to light on some board. "I'm not sure about the name, but I do know that they look something like this."

    Smiling, Obi-wan looked around to find something that reminded him of Cody's eyes. He settled on his cloak. "Yours are a darker shade of brown than my cloak."

    "How do you know it's brown?"

    "Everyone tells me it is. I used to ask my master all the time."

    Cody smiled. "That's sweet."

    "Yeah. Well, shall we. We have duties to attend too." Both of them knew this was the beginning of something beautiful. While nervous, maybe they would be okay. The two would figure out more about the universe together.

    Bonus

    Cody and Obi-wan stood on the beach. The water was crystal blue. The clone could swear he had seen that color before. As the Jedi sat down to relax, Cody realized where he had seen that color before. In fact, he saw it all the time.

    "I know how to describe your eyes now." Cody said as he joined him. Obi-wan had already found sweet ways to describe the man's eyes. He said they looked like coffee or old books.

    "Oh?"

    "They remind me of the sea. No wonder I like them so much, they remind me of home. You remind me of home."

    "That's sweet. Thank you, love." Obi-wan looked around quickly before kissing Cody. He may not have shown how much those words touched him, but they did. They were one of the sweetest things he had heard in a while. "I love you."

    "I love you too."

Codywan Week Day 4: Kidfic

Summary: After finding a child in the aftermath of order 66, Obi-wan takes her to tatooine with him. Then Cody finds them and they become a family.

The Temple had been so quiet. The gentle cries of a young child had startled Obi-wan. The child was the first and only survivor they found that day. She was a human girl. Her name was Marla and she was four.

With no other choice, Obi-wan took Luke and her to Tatooine with him. Luke couldn't stay with him. It was already a risky move taking two force sensitive children together.

It had been a few years since then. Obi-wan had reunited with his old partner Cody. After the order and inhibitor chip were explained to him, the Jedi started to allow the clone back in his life.

It started off small. The two would spend some time together when Obi-wan or Cody weren't working. Then Cody started to watch Marla when he could.

Soon the two were just in love as they had been. Maybe they never fell out of love. Marla started to realize Cody wasn't just her dad's good friend but his boyfriend. They seemed like they should be married or engaged the way they talked.

"Are you going to marry my dad?" She asked Cody one afternoon.

"I would like to." He confessed with a chuckle.

"You should. I like having you around." Marla was eight years old. She smiled as she walked around the kitchen of the tiny house Obi-wan had found for them.

"Okay." Smiling, Cody told her it was time for bed. Looking at him, Marla tried to escape her bedtime.

That morning Obi-wan came home from his job at the bar. He found his asleep daughter hugging his boyfriend. He smiled as he hunted a blanket for the two of them. It felt so right. After making sure they were comfortable, the man went to his own bed.

When he woke up, he found a glass of water by the bed with a note. 'Marla and I went to the market. We'll be back soon.' -love Cody.

Soon Marla would be calling Cody "Buir." The word meant father in Mando'a. The girl never truly knew how much that meant to Cody.

"Marla" Obi-wan called for her.

"Yeah?" The girl was nine now.

"Your Buir has a surprise for you."

"Oh! What is it!" She squealed excitedly.

"Go find him and figure it out. I believe he is out by the cave." Obi-wan wasn't nervous to send her on her own. The cave wasn't far and he knew Cody would not let anything happen to her. That girl was their life. How she became their daughter was unfortunate. Despite that they loved her with all of their hearts.

When she returned, she had a new stuffed animal and a big smile on her face. She ran to her room to add it to her collection.

"Thank you for getting her those."

"Of course." Holding hands, the two men looked at the lives they built for themselves. They looked at their daughter as she ran back into the room, telling them all about how she had to introduce each of her stuffed animals to the new one. She had already named the bear Neo and so far everyone liked him.

After telling them about the meeting, she grabbed some apple slices off of the counter. Then she ran back to her room to make sure everyone was still getting along.

As she turned the corner, Cody turned to face Obi-wan. "Look at our daughter."

"I know." They smiled at how kind she was, even to stuffed animals. "I love you."

Cody kissed his husband. "I love you too."

Beautiful absolutely amazing I love this 😭💕💕💕

Hi <3

May I have Cody with f!Jedi reader and the prompt 15 and 35?

(I hope I memorized the numbers correctly 😂)

💕

Hello love @your-local-jedi-commanderThank you for the love and participating, it's so sweet of you.

I hope you enjoy the story.

The General

Warnings: Fighting, blood, wound, medical procedure, bantering, discussions of death and violence, explosions, mud. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

The battle was enduring much longer than anyone anticipated, it didn’t help that this god-forsaken planet wouldn’t stop raining. Cody crouched down behind a boulder doing his best to provide cover for the General who joined their operation. It’d been three months since they’ve been fighting and they barely made any advancement. 

The blood from the gash on his forehead was trickling down and into his eye, he kept wiping it away, trying to get a line on where you stood and where the droids were; but it was all starting to blur. He closed one eye, aiming as best he could; force, how he missed his helmet, but a stupid mortar shell damaged his HUD and now he had to deal with the elements. A new one was on its way, but it wouldn’t get to him until he made it back to the FOB, so for now squinting and wiping had to do. 

He wiped one more time, taking aim, and fired. Only to see his laser beam, pass by only an inch from where you were, nearly hitting you. You dismantled the droid, with one swing, and spun to look at him, “What are you doing!”

“Sorry, General. My eyes …”

You shook your head, “Commander, do me a favor. Just sit there and look pretty, let me handle this.”

He felt embarrassed by that embarrassing shot. His embarrassment grew, when he saw you call the force and push all the droids away, somehow simultaneously igniting all their grenades. You turned and walked away as the explosion ricocheted behind you, making you look ethereal. Cody wished he had his helmet so he could’ve captured the image.

You didn’t even bother to look back, your only concern was Cody. It wasn’t like him to be sloppy with his shots, he was either in a lot of pain, or his vision was getting worse, which was even more worrisome.

You couldn’t help but worry about the Commander, ever since you joined Obi-wan’s fleet, he’d been a breath of fresh air in the force. With all the violence and death surrounding you because of the war, the dark side of the force swallowed up all that was good. It drained you more than you realized, that was until the moment you met Cody, it was as though someone brought out the sun, and breathed life back into your life. 

As you walked over to Cody, you noticed the gash on his forehead was still bleeding pretty profusely, “Why didn’t you get this taken care of?” You kneeled beside him, your fingers gently prodding the wound.

“I wanted to watch your back.”

You tilted your head as you smiled at him, “And who’s watching yours, while you’re watching mine?”

He smirked as he looked at you, “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” 

You looked him in the eye, wanting to tell him what he really meant to you, even if it was against the code. Even if he wasn’t allowed to have relationships, you didn’t care. You just wanted to let him know, but somehow it never came out. Sure variations of what you wanted to say, made it past your lips, but never exactly what was pressing on your heart.

“It’s not that bad.”

“I beg to differ, Commander.” Your hand slid down the side of his face, as you gently cupped his cheek, it lasted for a brief second, but that brief second could’ve been an eternity for all you cared. You pulled your hand away slowly, reluctantly. 

Cody almost chased the warmth of your hand, feeling your fingers, your palm, your skin on his, made it feel like a dream come true. Ever since you stepped off that shuttle, and joined General Kenobi’s fleet, it was as though life had shown him there was more than to simply exist. It wasn’t just about the war and his brothers. There was you. You brought meaning to his life, something he never quite understood, but was happy to accept. 

Maybe it was when he first saw you take down twenty droids on your own, maybe it was when you used the force to protect him and his brothers, when you shielded them from the explosions, or maybe it had to do with that laugh that somehow made his heart want to lurch forward, and made his stomach flutter, all he knew was at some point he fell in love with you. 

“Come on, I’ll take you back to the med tent. Get you cleaned up.” You guided his arm around your shoulder as you helped him up. 

“I can walk, General.”

“You nearly shot me. Right now, I don’t trust you to take a pee without assistance. Just accept the help.”

“You always this stubborn?”

“Says the quacta calling the stifling slimy.”

“I have to be, have you met my General.”

You laughed that laugh that made his heart feel as though it had wings, he tightened his arm around your shoulder, wanting to pull you in close. “Obi-wan does have a knack for getting into trouble, I will grant you that.”

“You can blame him for my stubbornness.”

“Oh, I will.” 

You pulled him in closer, wanting to take as much advantage of the warmth from his body as you could. Before you helped him sit on a med cot. Although you weren’t a healer, you did make it a point to learn how to perform certain medical treatments on the field. Oftentimes there were not enough medics and one more extra hand, meant one more soldier was saved. So you did what needed to be done. You moved away from Cody to grab a suture kit, placing it on the cot beside him, and grabbing a santizing wipe. 

“Alright, I’m going to need to clean this first.” You prepared him, hoping he understood the pain that was about to happen.

“You don’t have trouble yourself, General, I can wait for another medic.”

“The other medics are dealing with more severe cases, I can handle this. Now, this is going to hurt, okay?”

Cody simply nodded, gripping his knee, as you started to wipe away the rain, the blood and even some mud that had splashed on to his face. His face twisted in pain, you leaned forward and blew gently on the wound, it shouldn’t have seemed as romantic or even as sensual as it did, but somehow the both of you found it to be rather intimate. 

His eyes opened and looked into yours, in that moment he was saying all the things he couldn’t, as he looked into your warm, kind, beautiful eyes. 

You took a shuddering breath, when it felt as though time stopped as you looked into his eyes, you wanted to lean forward, to press your lips to his, to let him know how much of your heart was already his. 

Before the distance could be closed, a noise from outside the tent startled the both of you, when you realized how close you were. Cody could feel his cheeks flushing, as you slowly pulled back looking aside for a second, before you moved to grab the needle and thread. You looked into his eyes one more time, a smile on your face, that told him, you knew.

He simply smiled back and whispered, “Me too.”

The smile on your face grew, before you started to stitch him up. 

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

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𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Captain Rex X F!Reader You aren't special. You don't have any form of magical connection to the force. So why then, are you constantly plagued by vision-like nightmares straight from the pits of Mustafar? Word Count: 4,632 Warnings: Minor swearing, minor cut to thumb, concussion, horror, mention of character death, feelings. A/N: This took so long to write when I have to spend my evenings stressing at work T_T but its here and its out, even tho no one asked for it lol. I'm quite happy with this one, it's a mix of a few different genres (?) and I'm happy with how it came out <33 hopefully whoever reads it will enjoy it just as much <33

Pure, blinding light ignited the hallways in a sterile white glow until you could almost taste the smell of disinfectant on the tip of your tongue. Distant whirring and humming of machinery filled the inside of the building, drowning out the raging storm outside. You had no kriffing clue where you were.

In a flash, the lights blacked out, one by one, until the hallway was swallowed in a momentary darkness. Your eyesight had a hard time adjusting, as the power promptly came back on, and once again you were blindsided.

Although the hallways were barren of any life, your gut churned. Anything and anyone could be lurking about, deep in the shadows where no artificial light could reach. Just like in the deep ocean, creatures lurked. They peered from below, anticipating the right moment where they could strike. Like an innocent, disoriented animal, maybe you were being carefully observed by some predator of a higher strength and intelligence. Maybe they were watching through a camera or watching you from behind the glass.

As thunder roared wildly, a loud creak travelled through the walls, all the lights in the room flickering out with a crackle.

You waited a moment, observing the ceiling expectantly. A small spark crackled from one lamp. But nothing. The power was dead.

Your gaze moved to watch the glass, the waves crashing against it with a vile ferocity, blanketing the facility you found yourself in, in further, deeper darkness. Droplets of water hung onto the glass, racing downwards with the pull of gravity, similarly to bleeding paint on a canvas.

Your body was stuck in a state of distress, and you wondered how you even got to this place. The last thing you remembered was laying in your cozy, warm, queen-sized bed, enjoying the absurdity of some comedy-based holofilm.

The last thing you expected was to find yourself standing in an unknown, bleach-scented, derelict, straight-out-of-a-horror hallway.

As the waves continued to claw at the windows, a shiver ran down your spine. A sudden coldness enveloped you, icy shadows embracing your body.

Anything could be lurking within the darkness, waiting, inching closer, anticipating.

As your vision adjusted to the darkness, you noticed something.

Your reflection moved, but you didn’t.

You blinked furiously, leaning forward and hoping that if you squinted hard enough, your eyesight would adapt to the darkness faster. Your arms wrapped around yourself, providing some warmth amidst the freezing air of the facility.

You could almost feel frost settling in your lungs.

For a split second, you wondered if this is what it felt like. If sheer cold and anxiety embraced one moments before death.

Something moved. Again.

A flash of clarity struck through you. This had to be a really, really shitty dream, you realised.

There was no possible explanation other than this being a nightmare. An overly, awfully vivid nightmare.

But there was a dull ache crackling in your fingertips, and it settled deep within your knuckles and bones as you tightened your grip on your arms, on something.

Something cold. Something hard. Something almost… Metallic.

Your subconscious seemed to clock the nature of the object before your conscious mind could.

You grazed your thumb across the object, feeling for that familiar ridge. You counted six, perfectly equal elevations. Your thumb trailed higher, feeling for the gradual thinning out of the instrument. Until the pain registered in your mind, and a warm sensation enveloped the delicate pad of your thumb in a pooling droplet of blood.

A… Scalpel.

Bile teased at your throat, burning and scratching its’ way up, yearning to see the surface. You quickly averted your gaze, the tool dropping to the floor with a hollow clank.

This felt too real to just be another shitty nightmare.

As you glanced into the window again, you caught a glimpse of a shift in the shadows. It was slight, so subtle you were convinced it was just your imagination playing up again.

Suddenly, you felt movement.

At first, it felt like a shiver on a cool spring morning. Almost as though it was nothing to fret over, something you could insist would pass. But then you felt the unmistakable sting of sharp claws digging into your waist, and the panic settled in. You weren’t alone.

Foreign limbs strangled around your body, suppressing your chortled scream with a hand, pulling you deep into the shadows of the facility. Your vision was slowly blocked, until you could only see a fine line ahead of you.

Your hands clawed at the thin air before you, begging to latch to any foreign surface that could save you from the darkness, and pull you back into the light.

Thunder roared and lightning cracked, igniting the room in a blinding white glow for a split moment, your screams suppressed as your eyes landed on the reflection in the glass.

Your arms fell limply to your sides, the veins in your sclera’s a stressed, bulging red.

A body.

Your eyes fluttered open in a hurry. Your lips were gaping in a silent scream, beads of sweat trickling down the side of your temple. Blood pulsed loudly in your head, almost hurting as you brushed the sweat away.

An involuntary, guttural groan escaped your chest as you crawled backwards in your bed, your hand frantically searching behind you for your bedside light as your gaze never strayed from the space before you.

Whatever that thing was, it was following you. It could be anywhere. It could be hiding in plain sight, and you wouldn’t know it until the lights were on-

The familiar click and the spread of a warm amber glow illuminating your room eased your senses, your fingers lingering on the switch. It took a moment to register what just happened.

You were safe. There was no creature. There was no body.

You took in a deep, shaky breath and hid your face away into the safety of your palms.

It was that dream, again.

Ever since you left med school on Coruscant, your mind has been plagued by these nightmares. Each time they increased in their intensity, in their detail, in their vividness.

Your heart rattled against your ribcage, and your mind raced at thousand miles per hour.

What the fuck…?

This couldn’t be normal, you thought as you slowly settled, your body drenched in cold sweat. Those weren’t just silly images conjured up by your mind.

There was something else at play.

You shook your head as you leaned back against the headboard, looking down at your palms. Shadows hung over them, deepening the scars and creases.

Those nightmares… They meant something.

You weren’t quite sure what they meant, yet, but you were determined.

You’d find out, someday.

But for now, you needed to catch some Z’s, after all, tomorrow was your first assignment.

Blaster fire and pained howls of men coddled your brain like a swarm of wasps.

You couldn’t catch a break. It was constant analysing, bandaging and praying as one soldier after the other were hit with plasma bullets, their agonised screams and cracking of bones and barely contained groans playing in a loop like a broken record.

Heat from explosions blew charred smoke in your face, drenching your skin in more sweat with each passing second. Your hands were painted with ash and dried dirt. No amount of disinfectant was adequate enough to sanitise at a faster rate than the one of injured men coming to you.

You were more of a surgeon than a field medic, but a shortage of medical staff in an already politically unstable Republic was not something you could fight against. You had no choice.

Sure, the GAR could afford to train their own medical personnel, or even better, invest in droids, but the hostility between its soldiers and the mech wasn’t something that could be easily treated.

Either way, you were a surgeon stuck amidst a raging invasion and piling injuries and corpses.

“What’s your name soldier?” You asked as you scanned him over, brows furrowed, lips narrowed into a tight line. At this rate you were simply following a script, offering a false sense of comfort to the injured.

“R- Rex. The name’s Rex.” He coughed out, groaning as you gripped his shoulder. Or well, his pauldron. The metal beneath had been grazed with a bullet, cracking under the initial impact.

“Rex?” You mused, testing it out before removing his armour to quickly assess his shoulder for any injuries. Your fingers quickly found your scissors and got to work in cutting some of the black undershirt he wore. “That’s a pretty name, for a pretty soldier.” You joked, sending him a quick wink and your prettiest smile.

You gave him no chance to reply as you moved the piece of fabric, your eyes quickly analysing the extent of the damage.

The armour did absorb most of the impact, though it didn’t prevent him from coming out completely unscathed. There was visible swelling, his otherwise tan skin becoming discoloured where most of the impact had been taken, and tiny, raging, red vessels were swimming aggressively in the bruises. You had seen similar injuries before. This would be a piece of cake.

Something felt off, though.

Something about his demeanour. You weren’t sure what specifically, just yet, but he was brimming with confidence, with experience.

“This’ll need to be checked over later, but a bacta patch will do just fine.” You slapped a patch over the bruising, before placing his armour back into place. “See me after the battle, soldier.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he thanked you, checking his armour was in place.

“That’s Captain for you, doctor.” He threw over his shoulder as he placed his helmet on, his voice quickly turning robotic under the modulator.

Recognition flashed in your eyes as you scanned him over, spotting the navy blue kama, the markings on his helmet, the pauldron that sat proudly atop his shoulder. He was the Captain Rex. Right hand of your new General, Anakin Skywalker. How could you not have realised the moment he spoke his name?

“Kriff.” You hissed out as another explosion erupted, shielding your face. The captain glanced back at you, and without missing a step he hauled you up.

“Come with me. It’s not safe out here.”

The two of you ran, narrowly dodging bullets as Rex manhandled your body out of the way, expertly aiming for the droids’ weak spots. He had done this a thousand times and would do it a thousand times more.

The doorway was just a couple more metres, the clear glass reflecting the colour of plasma bolts and fires. But as always, your luck seemed to run out at unexpected moments, as a droideka pulled up in front of the two of you. Rex pushed you behind him, shielding you away from the mech. It wasted no time in raising its’ shield, had its guns drawn before you could even blink. But Rex wasn’t the Captain of the 501st for no reason.

The droid was blown up almost in slow-motion. From the rolling of the grenade to its downward look as it pierced through the shield. A yelp left your lips as Rex turned, bringing you into a protective embrace as the two of you were flung backwards.

Air escaped your lungs as if you were a deflated balloon, your body feeling hollow as you struggled to breathe. Unexpectedly, the air returned, and you found yourself gasping.

Intense pain bloomed in the back of your head, spreading through your body like a shockwave. Your eyes felt as though they were about to pop out, a heavy ache resting in your skull.

Something was ringing in your ears. All sounds were muffled as you slowly lifted your head. The Captain’s figure was blurry as he leaned over you, his helmet moving slowly, animatedly, his voice drowned.

Were you underwater?

His gloved hand lifted to your cheek, giving it two light taps.

And then, everything rushed in all at once. The sound of blaster fire, the screams, the metallic stomping of droids, the Captain’s voice.

“Talk to me, doc. We gotta get going if we don’t wanna get blasted.” He said quickly, taking your wincing as a response as he hoisted you up, draping your arm over his shoulder. His touch was warm and firm, it enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Confusion overtook you as Rex placed you down against a wall before he took his helmet off.

Your vision was blurred, spinning. But his voice acted as your guide through the blurriness.

“Doc, how many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, raising his hand up.

Squinting, you looked him over. The explosions outside seemed to quieten down as you looked from his hand up to his eyes. In your hazed state, you were stunned to silence. You never knew clones had such beautiful eyes.

They brought a sense of calm amongst the raging battle around you. You leaned closer, so close you could feel his breath fanning over the tip of your nose. Something sparkled in his eyes; and it drew you in like a bee to honey.

His irises were a perfect mirage of the golden dunes of Tattooine, coated in the amber glow of the setting suns.

His voice, coarse like sands of arid deserts, soothed your mind back to the present, back to his question.

“T- Two?” You asked hazily, rubbing your forehead. The confusion was slowly easing, only to be replaced by a stinging sensation. A hiss escaped through your teeth as you touched the spot, retreating your hand to observe your bloodied fingers.

“S- Stitches…”

“What was that?” Rex asked, rummaging through your backpack.

“S- Stitches… I’ll need stitches.” You huffed out, letting him handle you however he pleased. He was gentle as he pressed a cloth against the back of your head, his breath fanning over the tip of your nose.

“Stitches… That’s catchy. And yeah, you’re right.” He said as he retracted the cloth, the softness that accompanied it gone too. You heard a soft thud before Rex’s hands were on you again. He carefully wrapped a gauze around your head, his fingers careful not to cause more discomfort.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bloodied cloth laying limply on the floor. It was stained a crimson red, laying abandoned by your side. Surely the bleeding wasn’t that bad.

He ripped the ends of the gauze, tying them into a knot. It sat tight against your head, and you fought the itchiness in your fingers to rip it off. You weren’t usually one to be injured. Though you had to admit, the added gentle pressure kept you grounded.

“We need to go and get backup. C’mon, this way, Stitches.”

You concluded that the hallways were endless. Rex had been hauling your body for the duration of the journey, narrowly avoiding colliding into another clone. A Commander. After that, time became a blur yet again.

It didn’t help that you were feeling tired, sleepy, nauseous.

The three of you headed down the hallways, searching for any other lingering troopers. The sound of distant conversation caught your attention, your head turning in the direction it came from.

“You hear that, Rex?” Commander Cody asked, his helmet turning to face Rex’s.

“I hear that, Cody. We’ve got backup.” He proudly said, exchanging quick glances with him.

As the three of you rounded the corner, you were able to pick up on their conversation. They were discussing their next course of action, it seemed.

“What are we going to do?”

“We fight.” Rex replied as you came into view, his hands reaching to take his helmet off, your vision swayed though a steady hand quickly supported you. As the rest began talking, Rex propped your body against a wall, and you couldn’t help but glance over the other 501st members.

One of them, Fives, you heard his name earlier, had a goatee and a tattoo. He seemed fiery and so damn sure of himself – not in an arrogant way, no – as he spoke encouraging words to the young cadets. The other one, Echo, seemed shyer and more reserved, and was constantly glancing up at Fives. He looked like any other normal Reg. Freshly shaven, distinct regular haircut, no identifying facial marks like scars or tattoos.

Something twisted at your gut with a molten fist. He was so familiar, and yet you couldn’t understand why. The answer was settled just on the tip of your tongue, scratching at your brain like an unreachable itch.

The pain in your head had shrunk into a dull ache and blurry vision whenever you attempted to walk on your own, so resting and letting the actual soldiers do the rest was not up for discussion on your part.

With a boosted morale, the clone, 99, began talking about an armoury. Rex used that moment to kneel beside you. His gloved hand felt warm on your shoulder, his grip tight and comforting.

“I’ll be back for you in a sec, Stitches. Don’t close your eyes, understood?”

“Yessir.” You muttered in response, attempting a mock salute. He rolled his eyes at you before departing, his steps hurried and glances anxious as he disappeared behind a corner.

The walls were painted a filtered red, doing little to quench your own anxieties. Were you going to get out of here? Would Rex and the others come through? You had very little experience with a gun, nethertheless facing a whole group of bloodthirsty, unfeeling droids. You reached for the strap of your bag, fiddling with the bumpy material. A soft hand on your shoulder shook you from your thoughts.

“You’re a new face around here, what’s your name?” The clone asked, Echo, as he eyed the gauze wrapped tightly around your head. You eyed him up and down, the itch returning as you thought over your response.

After a moment, you let up, rubbing the strap between your fingers.

“I’m the new medic for the 501st.” Your reply was short and curt as you pulled the bag atop your lap, unzipping it.

“New medic? That’s perfect. But, what’s wrong with your head?” He asked as he watched you pull out a bacta patch. It probably wasn’t a good idea to put the substance onto your hair, but you had no other choice. Not if you wanted to avoid having to be stitched up.

Recognition flashed in Echo’s eyes as he watched you unwrap the gauze. His gaze followed it as you let it drop to the ground. It was bloodied, dirty with sweat and gunpowder and hair sticking to it in a weird mixture of odd substances.

“A concussion?” He asked, offering his palm to you. “Let me help.” He said, and you reluctantly dropped the unopened patch into his hand. You were hoping he’d know what he was doing as he gently moved your head away from the wall.

His fingers were delicate, practiced, as he moved some hair away. He remained quiet as he opened the patch and applied it to your injury, but a soft huff bubbled in his chest at your relieved sigh. The cool liquid was amazing, to put it simply. It latched to your scalp, tiny cyan tendrils reaching out for your skin. A quiet curse left your lips, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let yourself lean against the cool metal of his armour.

“Thank you.” You muttered against him, relief blooming in your chest. Your heart swelled as he caressed your hair tenderly.

Rex’s voice cut through the barracks as he, Cody and 99 returned, essentially interrupting your strange, little moment with Echo.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on Echo’s shoulder as you looked the three of them over.

They had stacks of guns in their arms, the cadets cheered as they crowded the three of them. You quirked a brow at Rex, noticing his quizzical expression as he looked you and Echo over. What you failed to notice was the stunned look and deep blush adorning Echo’s face.

“Ready up, boys,” Rex spoke, handing the last gun to Fives, “This might be a tough one.” His sight fell upon you again, his stare stern and yet tender as he remained focused on you, and you only.

“Doctor?”

Your body stuttered at the sound of a voice, your shaky hands almost dropping your datapad. “Captain?” Your voice was laced with confusion as you looked up. There he was, shoulders relaxed, gaze tender as it locked onto some feature of yours. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like a follow-up on my shoulder, Doctor.” He replied almost instantly. He’d only ever gone to Kix for medical examinations, but unfortunately – not - his usual go-to medic was suspiciously nowhere to be found.

“You can look at me, y’know.” Your voice softened as you set your datapad down. Guilt began to tug at your heart as his gaze met yours. The last time the two of you were in a room together, you had made a grisly confirmation of 99’s death. He had not only protected the others, but he even risked his life to save yours. He hadn’t even known you for more than a couple of minutes at most. He was a soldier, through and through, no matter what cruelties life and Kaminoans had thrown at him.

“Doc?”

Your attention snapped back, your body taking in an involuntary breath. Rex’s eyebrows were furrowed, a small wrinkle formed between them as he eyed you.

“C’mon, let’s see what’s underneath all that armour.” You breathed out, hoping to distract him. You didn’t need the Captain to study you under a microscope.  

Rex nodded, remaining quiet. He began to carefully remove his armour, one by one, his touch careful, practiced. He had done this a thousand times, and he would do it a thousand times more.

You distracted yourself by reaching for a medical cart. His armour would not be going on the floor, nor the bed. As you returned to his side, cart in hand, his stiff figure had you quirking a brow. His hands were hesitant to lift his shirt, itching at the hem.

Rex wasn’t a shy man by any means, he had been friendly with many fine women. So why did his heart stutter at the thought of being undressed around you?

“I’ll need to watch to assess for any impairment.” Your voice startled him. His throat grew dry, his fingers restless. He wasn’t expecting you to be so forward. This is just a normal checkup, Rex, he scolded himself internally.

With a quiet nod, his arms crossed over and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He lifted it, hissing a little as his shoulders shrunk in. It was nothing to worry about, you noted, as that was where the bruising was.

However, you supressed a choked gasp. The sight of his naked chest had your well-practiced professionalism struggling. Tan, sun-kissed skin, taught muscle and broad shoulders, numerous scars littered across the expanse of his chest, stomach and waist. A few freckles here and there.

Something bloomed in his chest, something warm, and a smirk tugged at his lips, his chest almost puffing up with pride as you stood motionless for a few seconds. His hands were resting on his lap, and you wondered for a moment whether the flex of his biceps was forced or natural in this position.

“Doctor?” His voice was raw, guttural as he leaned his head to the side. That was when you finally averted your gaze, settling on looking at his shoulder instead. The bruise was still there, discoloured skin and blood vessels swimming around in patches. It must have hurt like a bitch.

“Let me get a patch for that.” You said quickly, moving to rummage through a drawer on the side of the bed. They contained all sorts of supplies and materials, in case of emergencies. “We’ll check for your range of motion – in case the damage is deeper than just surface level.” You mused as you placed the bacta patch and gauze beside him.

You moved around him, poking at different muscle as you inspected him. So far so good, no abnormalities or bumps.

“Try and raise your arms above your head,” You requested, observing as he does so with little difficulty, “And now stretch them behind your back.” You continued, placing your palms on both of his shoulders, applying gentle pressure.

No swelling, no stiffness, no difficulty in movement.

“Now place your arms by your sides, then slowly lift and extend them until they’re above your head.” You requested, showcasing an example with your own arm. Starting from your hip, you kept it straight before slowly lifting it to the side, from your hip to your head. Rex followed your instructions, and you found yourself quickly dismissing any concerns about the damage to his shoulder.

“Your shoulder seems to be doing just fine, Captain,” You said as you stepped away, typing away on your datapad, “Try not to apply pressure onto the bacta patch, or else it might pop. Come back in two hours and I’ll take it off for you.” Your fingers were careful as you placed the bacta on, softly smoothing it over as you ensured it stuck.

You reached for the gauze, your arm brushing against his.

“Sorry.” You muttered, facing him.

Your breath hitched, realisation striking you like lightning.

His face was just inches away. His breath fanned over your nose, his warmth reaching out to you.

You could count every freckle, every scar, every imperfection across his features. Thousands of tiny stars and speckles flickered across his face, the light above you serving as his little sun, casting shadows to dance over his features.

And just like a shooting star, you disappeared from his orbit in the blink of an eye.

His gaze remained trained on you, observing every little movement and twitch. He was studying you again, like bacteria under a microscope. A blush fought its way to your face, painting your cheeks a shade darker.

You moved away from Rex wordlessly, keeping your attention fixated on wrapping the gauze over his shoulder.

As you stepped back, Rex uttered a small thank you, easing back into his shirt.

The two of you remained silent, you watching him put his armour on, and him fighting to keep the poker on his face. His heart was beating fast, hard against his ribcage and he worried you could hear it in the silent confines of the medbay.

You continued watching, quietly, even as he uttered another ‘thank you’ and headed for the exit.

Your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Captain?”

“Doctor?” He asked, his body half facing you.

You swallowed, taking a sudden, deep breath.

“Thank you… For saving my life back there. I owe you.” You said, offering a small, rigid smile.

He shook his head at you, mirroring your smile. Much softer, though.

“I guess you do, Stitches. I’ll see you around.” He said, before stepping outside. The doors closed behind him with a woosh, and you should have felt relief. You could breathe again. But your chest ached. He saved your life, he took care of you, so why did you feel so tense in his presence? So nervous?

Stop being silly, you thought as you made your way over to your desk, the screen of your holopad lighting up. You did your best to focus on the reports at hand, and yet you couldn’t fight off the giddy smile that ghosted over your face, or the nervous, unsteady racing of your heart.

Or the recurring memory of his lips so close to yours.

Tags: @flamingbisexual08

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33