Do I love a hero move or what?! @vodika-vibes nailed it! His bunny…. 😍
Summary: Wolffe wants you to be happy. It’s all he’s ever wanted. But watching you with him is killing him.
Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader
Word Count: 1221
Warnings: Reader has a pretty serious burn, Reader is described as having hair long enough to tuck behind her ear, Reader's boyfriend is described as a jerk
A/N: I'm not sure about this one, I had an idea but then I changed the idea halfway though and I feel like this fic is kind of disjointed. But I woke up freezing and with a migraine threatening me, so this is the best I have today.
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He swore that he wouldn’t get involved.
He promised himself that he would be happy for her and that he’d play nice with her boyfriend.
But Wolffe doesn’t think he hates anyone as much as he hates the man who just forbade her from drinking her favorite cocktail. Only for his ire to grow to new heights when he makes a joke about how she needs to lose some weight.
He watches her face fall, and he watches how she nervously plays with the sleeve of her dress, and Wolffe finds himself seriously contemplating how to best kill the boyfriend in a way that won’t come back to him…or onto her.
She hates wearing dresses, and she hates wearing long sleeves. If he has to guess, the boyfriend bullied her into dressing in a way that makes her look delicate and soft, rather than allowing her to be comfortable.
Wolffe downs half of his drink in one long gulp, trying to distract himself before he does something foolish…like throw the boyfriend out a window and into traffic.
Not that his brothers would let him do such a thing…well, not with so many witnesses around, at least.
Finally, after several more comments about things that she needs to change to be more attractive, the boyfriend wanders off to go and talk with some of his friends, and Wolffe immediately moves to her side.
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and Wolffe has to bite his cheek to keep himself in check.
She scans his face for a moment, and then she folds her arms over her chest and curls in on herself, as if to make herself smaller. “You’re mad.”
Wolffe huffs out a laugh and lightly takes a strand of her hair between his fingers so he’s able to tug on it, “Don’t be silly, this is just my face. I always look like this.”
“I’d believe that if you didn’t look like Count Dooku just walked into the bar,” She replies.
Oh. Oops. He thought he was hiding his emotions better than that.
“Ah, well…I’m not mad at you, Bunny. Don’t you worry.”
Her gaze slides across his face again, “You hate him.”
“Well, I’m not dating him. I don’t have to like him.” Wolffe glances at her boyfriend, and he scowls, “He’s kind of…immature.” He’s a walking shit-stain is what Wolffe really wants to say, but his Bunny already looks so defeated and he doesn’t want to upset her.
“He’s not normally like this,” She tries, “I think he’s intimidated by you and your brothers.”
He scoffs, unimpressed.
“Anyway,” Wolffe lets his gaze drift over her, “Since when do you wear dresses? Let alone dresses with long sleeves?” He lightly plucks the sleeve of her dress, and his eyebrows creep up when she quickly tugs the sleeve down over her hand.
Tellingly, she won’t look him in the eye. “Well, I thought, maybe it’s time for a change?”
“That right?” Wolffe leans back slightly and examines her properly, “You look uncomfortable.”
“W-well, it’s new and kind of uncomfortable—”
“Bunny,” Wolffe reaches out for her hand and she immediately presses the palm of her hand against his. Her hand is so small when compared to his, it just makes him want to protect her even more, “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“I just…I don’t want you to get angry. I’m not worth that.”
“I’m a grown man, you don’t have to try and manage my emotions.”
“But…” She trails off and then, with her free hand, she tugs her sleeve down her arm, revealing an angry-looking burn on her forearm, the blister is easily three inches long and it looks bad.
“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?” Wolffe asks as he gently takes her arm and moves it so he’s able to see the burn better. It looks like she’s been cleaning it and treating it with bacta, but until the blister is popped her treatment isn’t going to do much.
She shrugs one shoulder, “He said that I shouldn’t. That it would be a waste of resources when I can treat it myself.”
“Did he do this to you?”
“What? No!” Her gaze snaps to his face, “Not intentionally. It was an accident. He might be kind of a jerk, Wolffe, but he’s not abusive. I swear.”
Wolffe takes her hand and tugs her over to where a group of medic brothers are gathered, “Then what happened?”
“It really was an accident,” She insists as she trails behind him, “I was helping him make something for his mother, and he tripped over his kid sister while holding a frying pan full of hot oil. His concern was getting the kid out of the way, and I got hit.”
“Mm…fine.” He doesn’t like it, but accidents happen. “What about the way he talks about you?”
She averts her gaze, “I dunno…he’s never said stuff like that before.”
Wolffe’s eyes narrow, “And the dress? You hate wearing dressed because you’re always cold.”
“I…he’s allowed to have preferences.”
“Yes, he is. And so are you.” Wolffe stops and turns to face her while threading his fingers with hers, “Come on, bunny. Are you happy with him? Because I’ve seen you happy, and I’m not seeing any of that right now.”
She squeezes his hand, “He asked, Wolffe. And…I didn’t know how to say no.” It’s a quiet admission, but it’s an admission all the same.
Wolffe sighs and lightly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “We really need to work on your boundaries, bunny. And, for what it’s worth, I think you deserve better than someone who wants you to change for him.”
“It’s not like anyone is interested, Wolffe.”
“Maybe you should try looking a little closer to home,” He counters pointedly.
She blinks at him, “Closer to home?”
“Maybe someone who you’re already friends with?”
He watches realization cross her face, “Wait, you mean yo—” Wolffe lightly presses a finger against her lips, cutting her off.
“Bunny, your boyfriend is making out with the waitress.” He probably shouldn’t be as amused by that as he is, but he’s never claimed that he’s a good person.
She turns her head, and her expression sours, before she looks up at Wolffe, “I’d like to leave.”
“Alright, we’re going to the clinic, right?” Wolffe asks pointedly as he lifts her injured arm.
“Home first, I wanna change into something a little less…Little House on the Prairie. And then, yes, you can bring me to the 24-hour GAR clinic.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Wolffe mutters.
“And then, after they clean it, maybe we can get some caf?”
“Bunny, are you asking me on a date?”
She looks up at him, a little anxiously, “Only if you want?”
Wolffe flashes a crooked smile at her, and then drops a kiss to her temple, “I would be honored. Don’t you have to break up with tweedle-dumb over there?”
“Don’t be mean. I’ll send him a text.”
“Now who’s the mean one?”
His bunny pouts at him, and then carefully tugs her sleeve down over her burn, “Let’s get out of here, Wolffe.”
“As you wish, bunny.” This isn’t how he planned on catching his bunny’s attention, but now that he has it, he’s not going to let it go for love or money.
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These make me so happy!
Puppet Echo has arrived! This boy was such a labor of love and gosh he's cute. We're close to finishing the batch!
@dahscribbler hoping he can reunite with Fives one day.
Family traits
For Tech
Crosshair at his infuriatingly sexy finest. 😡🔥
So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.
This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!
Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader
Words: 3,132
Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy
Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist
“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”
You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves.
"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.
"Just one, but it's a big one."
You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."
"You will."
“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.
Nothing.
Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here.
The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.
What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.
Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.
Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.
As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.
Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.
You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.
You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.
And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.
The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.
You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.
"It's not there."
You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.
"Where are you?" you ask.
"Behind you."
You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."
"I am helping. By keeping you alive."
You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"
"You should really watch your language, General."
You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.
"Help you with what?"
You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.
"What is wrong with you?" you demand.
He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”
"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.
"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."
"You're welcome."
You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.
It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.
The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.
"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.
"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.
You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.
"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"
"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.
"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"
"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.
“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.
He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.
He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"
He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”
You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.
"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."
He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."
"Why?"
He doesn't answer, just shrugs.
"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.
You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.
"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"
"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"
"Complain, probably."
"Then leave."
"Not until you do."
"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."
"What does it do?"
"You don't care."
"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."
"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."
"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.
"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."
"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."
"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."
"Unique how?"
"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."
Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.
"Cross?"
"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.
"Where are you going?"
"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.
You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"
He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.
You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.
"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.
"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.
Nothing.
"Crosshair, come in."
Still nothing.
You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.
"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.
You're not prepared for what greets you.
You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.
You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.
The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.
You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.
You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.
The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.
You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.
A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.
You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."
Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.
Okay, now you're furious.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."
"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"
"Yes!"
He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."
"Where the hell were you, anyway?"
"Helping you," he says.
"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."
He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.
You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.
"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.
"You're welcome."
"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.
"It is," he says.
You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”
"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."
“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.
His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.
“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"
"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."
"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.
"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.
You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.
The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.
You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.
"Thank you," you finally whisper.
“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.
"Both."
He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.
"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."
Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck.
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.
But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.
You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."
You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.
"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.
Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia
@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak
@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario
@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano
@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear
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@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish
Such sweetness 💕
Summary: After returning home from a long campaign, you and your soldiers find it difficult to fall asleep. Echo has a bad dream which starts a chain reaction of clones entering your room looking for a different place to sleep for the night.
Pairing: 501st & Jedi!Fem!Reader
Characters: Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, Kix, Dogma
Tags & Warnings: platonic clone cuddles, snuggles, and kisses, smidge of angst, comfort, fluff
Word Count: 3k
Author’s Note: I came up with this one from a dream I had. All gestures are 100% platonic. The lullaby the reader sings can be found here. Honestly, these boys need all the cuddles, snuggles, and love they can get. As always, please enjoy! 💚
After being away for several rotations on a long campaign with the 501st, you have finally made it back home to Coruscant. You leave your weary troops in the barracks and head towards your chambers to clean up and get some rest. You enjoy your first warm meal in what feels like forever and hop in the shower to wash the grime off your skin. You let the hot water caress your body as you stand underneath its invigorating spray, never wanting to leave the warmth.
You finish your shower, slip on your night clothes, and crawl into your bed. You nestle under the covers and take a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of your room fill your senses. There’s nothing quite like sleeping in one’s own bed. At last, you can get some good sleep. Sleep during campaigns is always a hit or miss and never the top priority, but when you’re here, when you’re home, you can sleep comfortably knowing no one is trying to end your life or the life of your men.
However, tonight you endlessly toss and turn in your bed. You're exhausted, you know it, you can feel it. You want to sleep desperately, but something is keeping you awake. You continue to toss and turn, but slumber seems to escape you. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling in defeat. So much for a good night's rest. After all those long nights on the hard ground with blaster and cannon fire, you wish for nothing more than to sleep.
Unexpectedly, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by a presence entering your room. It’s too dark to see anything, but through the force, you can see exactly who it is. “Echo?” you ask while sitting up against your pillow.
“Ah, sorry to wake you general,” Echo answers while putting an awkward hand on his neck.
“I wasn’t asleep,” you admit with a sigh as you rub your forehead. “Are you having trouble sleeping too?”
“I…” Echo begins to answer, but hesitates, unsure of how to say what he wants to say. “I had a bad dream.”
You cock your head to the side and give him a sympathetic smile. “Dreams are only dreams, Echo. They can’t hurt you.”
“Yeah,” Echo agrees half-heartedly. “I know.”
You sense he has something else to say, but he is too nervous to ask you. “Is there something else you want, Echo?” you ask to try and get him to tell you. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
Echo opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it. He doesn’t want to step out of bounds with you as his general, but he also doesn’t want to go back to the barracks. Finally, he musters the courage and asks. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
You’re initially taken aback by the request, but your heart softens towards the tired clone. The nightmares that plague him must be horrific if he wants to sleep with his general. You think about it for a moment, but decide that it won’t hurt to let him stay the night with you. You pat the empty portion of the bed to the right of you to show him your approval. “Come here.”
Still a little wary of the idea, Echo meanders his way over to the bed and crawls from the base up to where you are. You stretch out your arm and invite him to rest his head on your chest. He obliges with a little hesitancy and you gently drape your arm over his side and back. You can feel every ounce of tension in his body escape at your touch. He breathes deeply and lets out a relaxed sigh, knowing nothing can hurt him now.
You smile at the clone clinging to you and run your fingers through his hair. As a Jedi, you’re not allowed to have attachments, but there’s nothing in the code that says you can’t show compassion. These clones. They’re children, stuck in adult bodies, fighting a war that they never asked for. They never asked to be created. They never asked to be expendable. They never asked to be slaughtered. The least you can do is to offer them some sort of comfort.
As you settle in with Echo and to try to get some rest, you sense another presence come into your room. Perhaps you should keep your room locked from now on. As the figure enters your dark room, you can see through the force that its Fives. “Looking for Echo?” you ask knowingly.
“Uh, yeah,” Fives answers with a jolt of surprise. “How’d you know?”
“The domino twins will always be inseparable,” you chuckle softly. “Where one goes, the other usually follows.”
“I didn’t think we were that predictable,” Fives rolls his eyes.
“Let’s just say that it doesn’t take a force wielder to know your thoughts,” you explain with a smile. “Would you like to join your brother?”
“I can’t sleep well without him nearby,” Fives admits as he crawls over the base of the bed and scooches next to Echo.
“Better?” you ask while looking over at him.
“Much better,” Fives answers as he nuzzles into the blankets.
You look down at both the clones now sleeping in your bed and you smile. You never thought something like this would occur, but here you are. It’s not that you don’t want them here, but you do feel a weird sense of maternal instinct as they lay there in your presence. Clearly they feel safe with you, but you’re not sure why. Other than being their General, leading them into battle, force healing their wounds, and giving them pep-talks, you’re not sure why they are attached to you.
Your thoughts are once again interrupted by a figure entering your room. You let out a slightly exasperated sigh when you realize it is yet another clone tip-toeing his way into your bedroom. “Looking for something, Jesse?” you ask the sneaking clone.
Caught by surprise, Jesse stumbles back into the wall. “Uh, well, you see,” he begins to explain in earnest. “Echo and Fives aren’t in their bunks, and they’re usually up to no good when they’re together, so I went looking for them.”
“Well, you found them,” you point out in a hushed tone. “They’re right here, sleeping with me.”
Jesse pauses as he thinks about the situation before him. “Can…” he begins to ask. “Can I sleep here too?”
“I don’t see why not,” you answer. Your bed is definitely big enough, but you’re still not sure why all these clones want to sleep in your room. They have the barracks and bunks of their own, and they sleep with all their brothers. It is odd to you, but nevertheless, you let him climb into bed with you, Echo, and Fives. He crawls over the end of the bed and situates himself on the left side of the bed, across from the others. Close, but not close enough to touch you. You smile at his reservation.
As you begin to nod off, you’re pulled awake by yet another disturbance in your room. You wonder if you’re ever going to get any sleep at this rate. You look up at the figure standing across from the bed and with a sigh you ask them what they want. “What do you need Hardcase?”
“Oh, you knew it was me, huh?” Hardcase asks with a little embarrassment.
“You have a very distinct pattern in the force,” you answer with a small yawn.
“Really?” he questions with great interest. “I do?”
“Technically, you all do,” you explain further. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Jesse, Echo, and Fives aren’t in their bunks,” Hardcase begins to explain. “I thought they went to the refresher, but when they didn’t come back, I got worried.”
You smile at him and his concern for his brothers. “Don’t worry,” you soothe. “They’re right here with me.”
“What?” he questions with reproach. “They get to sleep with you? No fair!”
“Would you like to sleep here too?” you propose, thinking one more clone wouldn’t hurt.
“Really?” he asks with excitement. “Can I?”
“Only if you keep your voice down,” you hush as you feel Echo stir under your arm.
“Oh,” he quickly whispers. “Right. Gotcha. I’ll be quiet.”
Hardcase crawls into bed next to Jesse and Jesse wraps an arm around his brother to make sure he feels included. You look around at the group of clones covering your bed and let out a small chuckle. You’re not sure how one turned into four, but there’s no going back now. You can only hope that no more wayward clones will show up in your bedroom looking for a different place to sleep or their missing brothers.
However, your thoughts betray you as you sense Kix’s force presence entering your room. Should have seen that one coming. “If you’re looking for Echo, Fives, Jesse, or Hardcase, they’re here with me,” you announce, deciding to jump to the chase.
“You sound exhausted,” Kix jests as he folds his arms. “I can make them leave, you know.”
“It’s fine,” you answer while running your fingers through Echo’s hair. You remind yourself why you began this little clone sleepover in the first place and smile softly. “Sometimes, we just need each other.”
“Amen to that,” Kix agrees. “You got room for one more?”
“Of course,” you smile at the medic. “Grab a spot wherever you can find one.”
Kix crawls over Jesse and Hardcase, kicking them playfully in the process, and flops himself across from you near the edge of the bed. He grabs a fistful of covers and nuzzles them softly. You smile wide at his childish movements. They really are just children. Children who had their childhoods stolen from them. You can’t quite reach Kix, but if you could, you would rub his back to lull him to sleep. Maker knows medics need their sleep.
No sooner does Kix settle in, do you feel another force presence enter the room. This one is a little more cautious, as if he’s contemplating that he doesn’t belong. You feel his hesitation and call out to him. “Dogma. You can come in.”
“General,” he acknowledges as he steps closer. “I don’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding, Dogma,” you reassure the hesitant clone.
“Can…” Dogma begins, still feeling like he’s not allowed to ask for this. “Can I sleep here too?”
Your heart softens at his innocent and heartfelt plea, and you smile at him. “Yes, Dogma. You’re welcome here too.”
He smiles back and crawls across the edge of the bed and nestles neatly just below Echo and Fives. You wonder about Dogma sometimes, because he keeps to himself a lot and has trouble opening up to others. You feel great reservation from him, even on the battlefield. But you’ve heard from the others that his previous general was abusive and uncaring. It breaks your heart that anyone could be so malicious towards such beautiful souls. They didn’t deserve that.
Suddenly, you feel an intense presence of sadness and fear enter your room. Your heart begins to race as the force scrunches around you. You want to jolt up out of bed, but you don’t want to disturb your sleeping clones. As the force becomes less distorted, you can finally see who it is. “Tup?” you ask with concern. “Are you okay? You scared me.”
“They left me alone,” Tup says through a shaky breath while clenching his fists. “I don’t want to be alone.”
The pain in his voice breaks your heart. Every ounce of maternal instinct in you tells you to get up and hug this sad clone until all his pain is gone, but you can’t get up at the moment, not with all these sleeping clones surrounding your every side. Instead you invite him to come join you by patting the open real estate next to your left side. “Come here, Tup.”
He rushes over to the bedside and crawls over Kix to get to your side. You open your free arm and let him rest his head on your chest. You can feel a little shake in his body so you rub his back and place your head atop his. “Shhh. It’s alright,” you soothe. “I’ve got you. Your brothers are right here with you.” You feel the force settle around him and his breathing becomes soft.
“I wish I had a mother,” Tup admits into your chest.
You're surprised by the statement, but it’s not a completely unfounded thought. The clones are test-tube babies. Copies from an original source, with no mothers to speak of. Perhaps that is why they feel safe with you. Perhaps, because you are a woman, they feel a certain level of maternal attachment to you. That’s why they feel safe. That’s why they want to sleep here with you. That’s why they relax in your presence and melt under your touch. They just want a mother.
“What’s it like having a mother?” Tup asks out of curiosity.
“I don’t really remember mine to be honest,” you answer. “I was taken from her at a young age to be trained as a Jedi.”
“Oh,” Tup answers sadly.
“But,” you continue. “I do remember that she was warm and kind. She had a good heart and would sing me lullabies to go to sleep.”
“Lullabies?” Tup wonders at the strange word.
“Yes,” you explain in a hushed tone. “Mothers sing them to their children to help them go to sleep.”
“Would you sing us a lullaby?” Tup asks as he nuzzles further into you.
You’re shocked at the question. No one has ever asked you to sing, let alone sing a lullaby. “Well, I don’t know...” you hesitate.
You feel Echo tug gently at your hem and whispers. “Please?”
There were several more ‘pleases’ and ‘mhms’ coming from the lumps on your bed. You look around at the seven sleepy clones and wonder how you got yourself into this predicament. But, their innocence captures your heart and you feel a tender fondness for their simple request. How hard could it be to sing them a lullaby? You close your eyes and think back to when you were still with your mother and try to remember the words and the tune she sang to you.
Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby
Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay
And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow
Bless you with love for the road that you go
May you sail far to the far fields of fortune
With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet
And may you need never to banish misfortune
May you find kindness in all that you meet
May there always be angels to watch over you
To guide you each step of the way
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
May you bring love and may you bring happiness
Be loved in return to the end of your days
Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you
I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay
May there always be angels to watch over you
To guide you each step of the way
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
You finish the lullaby as tears form in the corner of your eyes. The words of the song unlocked the sweet memories of your mother from so long ago. She was a strong and loving woman, and even though you don’t remember her face, you could feel her embrace you through the force as the lyrics of her soothing lullaby escaped your lips. Such a soft and simple song, but so full of love, care, and comfort.
You look around lovingly at the clones sleeping softly in your bed and smile. Your heart is full. They’re all sleeping peacefully, probably for the first time in a long while. But your happy thoughts are pierced with poison as you remember why they exist. The bloody war. The war that no one asked for. The war they lay their lives down for. Not all of them may come back, but for now, yes, for now they are safe here with you.
You look up as you sense the final presence you knew would show up eventually. “Captain,” you whisper, trying not to wake the clones. Rex came into the bedroom while you were singing the lullaby and leaned against the wall while he waited for you to finish.
“I was wondering where my men went,” Rex chuckles while looking at his sleeping soldiers spread out across your bed.
“They needed a little mothering tonight,” you say as you leave a gentle kiss on Echo’s head.
Rex smiles. “I can see that.”
“Will you join them?” you ask. “There’s room for one more.”
Without much convincing, Rex pushes himself off the wall and crawls onto the foot of the bed. He lays sideways at the edge, positioning himself to guard over his men. Rex is a great leader and a great Captain. He cares deeply for each of his men and puts their safety above his own. It’s just like him to take the most vulnerable and uncomfortable position so his men can relax and feel covered under his dutiful watch. You smile fondly at their brotherly bond.
You let out a small sigh and lean over to the left to leave a small kiss on Tup’s head. You would kiss them all goodnight, but the rest are too far out of your reach. “Codladh sámh, my little ones,” You whisper while leaning your head back against the pillow to finally let yourself fall asleep. “Dream of a life far away from this one.”
Masterlist
A03
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100% pure bad ass ARC. ECHO!
I love how Echo went from "I read the reg manuals for fun and insist we do everything by the books" to "I'm going to sneak onto this heavily-guarded imperial ship by myself and hope that I can get you guys on here too before I'm taken to an unknown location where I'll probably die. Oh, and I'm gonna do it by going up the droid chute."
@faithwalkcreationscloneart is so talented. You should see her pieces in person. You really should. Breathtaking!
"Is there an Echo in here?" Why yes, there is! Just finished this 8x10 acrylic on canvas board of our guy! Enjoy!
I have an Etsy shop with prints and calendars of my clone art for sale. https://www.etsy.com/shop/FaithwalkCreationsCo
On Facebook you can find me at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564620144107
Because Echo has a well deserved reputation. #chaos strategist
The imperials don’t scare their kids by telling them stories about the boogeyman, they scare them by telling stories about Echo.
Self-soothing Tech doodle. He's thinking about his plans to rebuild Marauder! The… Havoc Maraudeux 😐
Voracious reader of your Star Wars / Bad Batch / Clone Wars FanFic and Fan Art
102 posts