Destiny 2 Red Legion Black Oil Draw Out Gunships

Finished!!

This image popped into my head about a week ago and I couldn't resist it. I love the idea of the clones painting their armor and the nose art on the LAAT/i gunships ("Plo's Bros," anyone? :D ), getting to have some fun downtime. They deserve it. T^T <3

I imagine the scene directly following this moment involves Cody hearing Obi-Wan coming down the hallway to the hangar and marching over to the largest paint can to fling its contents onto the little heart-eye Cody, hiding the evidence. When Obi-Wan arrives, he's very confused by the wails of despair from Waxer, Boil, Crys, and Wooley, but compliments them on their abstract nose art nonetheless. He is equally confused when, a few days later, he looks over the duty roster and notices that the four of them have been listed under latrine duty ad infinitum. >_>

*Timelapse video*

To see the full-res image, check my AO3.

I usually stream on Twitch while I'm drawing, so feel free to stop by.

# tcw# 212th attack battalion# cody# waxer# boil# crys# wooley# laat/i nose art# obi-wan# codywan# these boys are in so much trouble# cody's hud is giving him blood pressure warnings# fanart# fan art# reconstruction corps au# rcau# open skies

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Just Having Some Fun

"Why, sir?"

General Skywalker was grinning entirely too wide for Rex's liking. "Just having some fun, Rex. It's got to happen sometime."

"I hope you don't mind my saying, sir. But you've never had trouble having fun in the past."

An image flashed through Rex's head - sandstone towers, explosives, firefights. "Up and away!" Ahsoka had exclaimed, completely cheerful, and then she and her master had thrown Rex off of a tower with extreme glee.

Skywalker shrugged, the sloppy grin still painted across his face. "A little more never hurts."

Yes, but this might actually hurt someone.

"Besides, someone's got to do it, and Pad - Senator Amidala was curious about the troops anyway. You know they love her. It'll be great."

Rex sighed. "That's what I'm worried about, sir."

Skywalker laughed and slapped him on the back, blithely. "She's tougher than you give her credit for. By the time the day's over, the boys'll be disappointed to have me back."

Probably true. On both counts.

"Just don't let her see the nose art on the gunships."

"Probably wise," Rex agreed.

"And tell her I'll see her tonight. For the. Um. Meeting."

"I'll tell her you'll be at her apartment by 0800."

The jab landed exactly where he'd intended it. The general looked back at him, abruptly, the way the shinies did when he caught them sneaking extra dessert out of the mess hall. Surprised. Sheepish. A little guilty, but absolutely shameless.

Yeah, Rex knew. Top-secret relationship, his shebs.

He'd just have to make sure the boys didn't ask her when they were announcing their wedding date. On this day, she'd technically be their CO anyway.

GAR command was going to love this.

*******

absolute disasters, all of them.

Iiiiiiiit's Swap Day! This week's lineup of prompts looks elite and you can, as always, go check them and everyone's submissions out on the wonderful host blog @clonetober.

I just have this headcanon that Padmé meets some of the 501st (through Anakin, of course), and she and the boys hit it off fabulously. One day on shore leave Ani's got some "Jedi business" and can't watch them, and Padmé's finally free, and she volunteers to babysit. It's incredibly wholesome. Chaos ensues.

# sure it's a secret# not obvious at all# poor rex 3rd wheeling# disaster lineage# clonetober# clonetober2021# star wars tcw# clone troopers# swtcw# star wars clone wars# star wars the clone wars# clone wars# tcw# clone trooper rex# ct 7567# clone captain rex# captain rex# commander rex# anakin skywalker# general skywalker# human disaster# padmé amidala# padmé naberrie# padmé skywalker# anidala# anakin# star wars# anakin x padme# Padmé x anakin

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my gunship is a 3d printed model. I got it off etsy, it was a model made for the starwars legion figures, so it's scaled for DND mini figs, so i made the model bigger so that my black series figures could hang out on it. It's slightly smaller than black series scale but it's more than big enough for the figures to look absolutely badass standing next to it. I'm going to paint it up clone wars style. The ship is for my 501st boys and when i display them on my shelf im gonna have them all hanging out around the ship, i'm gonna try and get them to balance sitting up on the wings, just having chill time.

it's getting it's own nose art too.

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Chapter 2 - Thorns

The Hunt: a Wolffe love story

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Read it on AO3! Or here below the cut

Summary: After a good start with the Wolf Pack, with everyone but Wolffe himself, at least, Rose is off to her first official mission with the 104th to the planet Aleen, where she's a grand success with everyone except the commander.

This is basically my retelling of the Aleen episode from TCW, except without 3PO or R2. I think my version is cooler uwu

Tags/Warnings: 18+. Language, references to sex, some mentions of injury and canon typical attacks. Light angst (I think?) but also some bonding with the 104th members.

Word count: 6.2k

After removing and changing the yarrow, Rose stitched up Wolffe's wound, put on bacta cream and left it for it to heal overnight, and all the while, Rose and Wolffe didn't say a word to each other. She'd helped the others get rid of their drunkenness and hangovers as they had to prepare to ship out the day after, and quite early at that. There were problems on Aleen that were waiting for them, problems that were bigger than any of the conflicts Rose and Wolffe had with each other.

All the preparations for the mission were carried out quickly and effectively, albeit with a shadow cast over wherever Wolffe and Rose were together. The medic was still expecting any basic gesture of manners from Wolffe, whereas the clone commander still held his pride highly. Gossip had sparked among the other troopers of the Wolf Pack, speculating what it would be like having their medic and their commander in the middle of such an argument. Some figured it would be fun, others felt it would only bring trouble.

For Rose, however, it was very clear. She didn't enlist to argue, and she certainly wouldn't give Wolffe the pleasure of ticking her off. She knew duty was more important, and she was willing to put conflicts aside to do her job. Rose simply hoped that Wolffe would be capable of doing the same thing.

Walking into the hangar where she'd met the boys the day before that, Rose felt ready to go. She had all the gear she needed and had overseen the shipment of medical supplies to Aleen on a separate freighter. In front of one of the gunships, she noticed Sinker there with Boost and Comet alongside a few other troopers she hadn't yet met, but who seemed as curious about her as any other. Scanning them, she didn't find any signs of Wolffe. Internally, she sighed. Perhaps it was for the best.

She approached the soldiers with a smile, her focus albeit dispersed by all the movement going on regarding the mission. As she got closer to the gunship, the nose art of the vehicle caught her attention: the face of her new general, Plo Koon, with two clone helmets flanking it, and the words Plo's Bros written in Aurebesh in maroon. Rose's dazed face suddenly lit up at the art, and looking around, she realized it was painted on the battalion's main gunships.

"Don't tell me you hadn't noticed," Sinker told her.

"I really hadn't!" She answered happily, still gawking. She'd already noticed a lot of things that were peculiar about the 104th and the Wolf Pack, but seeing the nose art on the gunships, she had to admit to herself Wolffe was a huge part of that. Not only him, but General Plo as well. She knew clones were usually close to their Jedi, but she could easily say the Wolf Pack were closest to their general. Thinking about it, Rose even remembered seeing that Plo Koon had an arm piece with the same pattern as the battalion.

Thinking about it made her feel somewhat warm, as if she was at home, realizing these clones were amazing among the already amazing. But as the commander approached, fully donning his armor, Rose began to wonder. Judging by the conclusion she reached regarding him and how he shaped such a personality for his battalion, a lively personality that seemed to contradict his in a way, was it possible he could have that side to him?

She noticed his helmet was different than those of the other troopers, further highlighting his position of authority. Beneath his visor, Rose was all but certain he wouldn't be looking at her, and soon she averted her gaze from him as well. She hadn't forgotten how disrespectful he'd been to her the night before, and as much as she wanted to put all that behind her, a part of her wanted to make him ache.

"Is everything ready?" Asked Wolffe as he removed his helmet.

"Yes, sir," Boost answered. "Supplies have all been loaded and all squadrons available are currently loading the ships. If we leave now, we should be among the last ones on the Venator."

"Excellent," Wolffe answered bluntly before scanning the squadron in front of him, momentarily seeming taken aback by Rose's presence as though he'd forgotten she was there now, as though he'd made himself forget her entirely for the previous night. Their eyes met very briefly, with no change of expressions or exchange in words, and by the time Wolffe looked away from her, Rose had a bitter urge to roll her eyes, one she had to reprimand for the sake of not openly disrespecting her commander.

"Have medical supplies been included?"

"Yes," Rose spoke up before Boost could answer. "I supervised that operation myself."

Wolffe raised an eyebrow at her. "Well. It seems you can do things by the book like a soldier."

She scoffed, her eyes frowning with a dash of mischief lining her expression. "If you must know, I gave the patrol in charge a spare first aid kit for emergencies. It seems his mommy actually taught him how to say please and thank you."

"First aid kits are recognized by the army," Wolffe scolded as he walked past her, his shoulder barely brushing her out of the way, putting his helmet back on in the process.

Rose looked after him, part defeated, part amused, as the rest of the troopers looked at the sight undeniably excited by the drama. Finally, Rose rolled her eyes, chuckling at what had just happened.

"Are you two always gonna get along like that?" Sinker asked Rose.

"That's up to him," she answered. "I'm not the one who struck the first blow."

"Good luck getting him to admit that."

Rose shrugged it off. "I don't know why, but I have some faith in him. That doesn't mean I'm gonna pucker up and answer his beck and call. I still expect an apology."

"I agree, but you might be the one who'll have to get that conversation started."

"And how am I going to do that?" Rose snickered as she, Sinker, and Boost began walking into the nearest gunship. "Oh, commander," she feigned dismay, "please be nice to me!"

"Really?" Boost teased. "You're going to beg?"

"Oh, sweetie," Rose gestured to herself, "does this look like a woman who begs?"

"Sometimes, if you're into that," Sinker winked.

"Looks like you'll never know," Rose winked back.

"Anyway," Boost steered their conversation another direction, "there has to be something you can tolerate, Rose."

"It feels like tolerating him is all I ever do."

"Well then, like."

She tapped her chin. "Well, I did like the use of bunny. Lowkey, as in, don't you dare tell him that."

"I'll let him know," Boost continued in the spirit of teasing, only to earn a nudge from Rose.

The gunship closed its doors and sealed them, and soon they felt it lift off into the air. It didn't take it long to leave Coruscant's atmosphere and arrive at the Venator that was already orbiting around the planet, already preparing its procedures and calculations for hyperspace. Soon enough, they'd all be on their way to Aleen.

*

The voyage to Aleen wasn't a very long one, and while Rose dreaded the idea of being back in space for a while, the thought that she'd soon touch firm soil again comforted her. It wouldn't be like that time she spent at the medical station, and she still had to stop and remind herself of that sometimes. It seemed like being secluded in space was second nature to her now, but lucky for her, the mere image and excitement Sinker and the others had was usually enough to make her snap out of it.

Back on the gunships, Rose and the others couldn't see much of Aleen's atmosphere upon their arrival. Turbulence, the whirring of engines, that was pretty much all they got from their touchdown. Descent was quick; this time, Rose, Sinker, and Boost were on the same gunship as Wolffe and Comet, all for the sake of making the operation flow quicker. Being a humanitarian mission, they all expected it wouldn't be too much on their hands.

The gunship landed and opened its doors to let the squadron out; Wolffe exited first flanked by Sinker and Boost, followed by Rose, who was accompanied by Comet. She side eyed Comet with a smile, knowing he'd also begun to grow on her. Besides Sinker, she felt she could truly trust Comet. Her thoughts of friendship were interrupted, however, when she got a good look at the site they'd arrived at, as the sound of the engines of multiple gunships arriving muffled that of the breeze and the chatter of any Aleena that found themselves nearby.

Rose didn't know much about Aleen, but she knew the sight was ghastly in comparison to what it should be. The Aleena, small creatures, devoted to their religion, and often high spirited, found themselves in clusters, trembling in fear and covered in dust. Huddled together as if that would grant them more protection, the only thing that seemed to lift their spirits up was the sight of the army arriving.

And that was only concerning the Aleena themselves—their surroundings were nightmarish. Piles of rubble and debris were scattered along the area, remnants of houses and huts that once stood. Columns of smoke still rose from some points, some extinct bonfires lit by the Aleena the previous night to not succumb to the cold, others of house heating systems that had been damaged in the attacks. Makeshift tents and stations had been put up already, some for feeding, others for medical attention, others simply as command posts, but clearly there was still a lot of work to be done.

Though some hid it better than others, everyone in that newly arrived battalion was shattered at the sight. From the corner of her eye, Rose spotted a few young Aleena running along the perimeter, chasing each other in a small game. Children. It was all they could manage not to panic in the midst of their village having been destroyed, and while the children were indeed small, they weren't that different to the adults. The Aleena weren't tall, they weren't strong. Picking on a child wouldn't be much different than picking on an adult.

"They're defenseless," Rose commented, her heartbreak sourly breaking the silence.

"Separatists didn't seem to care," Comet added in the same tone.

"But that's insane," she scoffed. "Isn't this a war crime?"

"Much as it is, no one has enough jurisdiction to do something about it," Wolffe said, momentarily turning around to face Rose. All competition and resentment put aside, Wolffe seemed to address her in a genuine effort. "The Republic is doing all they can by sending us here, and the Separatists won't reprimand their own."

The commander turned back to the sight before them and almost grimaced in disgust. Rose, as much as he hated to admit, was right. These poor Aleena had no chance against a Separatist attack like the one that had already ransacked their home, and it disgusted him to see them in that state. The most they could do was give them supplies and help them get back up, besides investigating the true reason for the Separatists' attack there, the actual objective of the mission. Before knowing that, Wolffe feared he wouldn't be able to determine any course of action that would actually help the Aleena. It would all have to be revealed in time.

Determined, he turned back to his squad. "Comet, take two men and begin unloading the supplies. Boost, lead a squadron and get the investigation started. I'll meet with their leader."

"Yes, sir!" Boost and Comet answered at the same time, and afterwards, they were off to do what they'd been told. Rose watched them go for a while before facing the main courtyard once more, instantly noticing the small cluster of Aleena headed their way.

"I take it by the crown that that's the leader," Sinker commented.

"They don't expect to meet here, do they?" Wolffe referred to the courtyard in ruins.

"Not many places will be nicer than here," Rose said. "Besides, it's their home and they've just been attacked. I think we can overlook protocol for once, commander."

Wolffe didn't have the opportunity to talk back to Rose given how quickly the Aleena leader and others in his company had arrived, even considering how tiny their legs were. The leader, a stubby, blue-skinned Aleena with lazy, slightly crossed eyes, missing a few teeth, and donning a large, golden crown, began waving his staff in excitement, mustering an eloquent speech that would have pleased all the clones were it not for the fact that he was speaking in Aleena rather than basic.

Wolffe turned to Rose. "Will you go and see what's taking the translator so long?"

But Rose seemingly ignored his order, and instead she got down to her knees before sitting on the ground, now being a bit more at eye level with the Aleena. Though it caught Sinker and Wolffe off guard at first, she then began speaking the Aleena language herself, so eloquently it brought a huge grin to the leader's face.

Welcome to our disaster, glad you could come! said the leader. I am King Manchucho, honored to honor you with the honor of meeting me! These are dire times for my people. The unexpected attack has left us in crisis. We are peaceful citizens, and we never wanted part in this war, but if an alliance is what is needed to stop the Separatists from returning, we will gladly accept!

Rose smiled at the King. We truly are honored to meet you, King Manchucho. As long as we are here, we are in your service and that of your people. Sorry, may I? She took a handkerchief from her pocket and rubbed the soft fabric against one of the stones decorating the king's crown, polishing it and removing any dust it had from the rubble. King Manchucho seemed honored by that gesture, and his smile only became more grand.

Rose, still sitting on the ground, looked up at Wolffe, who was more puzzled by her odd ways than ever. Never in his life had he seen a medic act like her.

"This is King Manchucho, who is, and I quote, honored to honor us with the honor of meeting him. He says if he has to form an alliance with the Republic to stop these Separatists from attacking them further, he'll gladly accept. I've told him we're at his service and that of his people."

"We don't know if an alliance will help them," Wolffe answered. "There's a slight risk that it'll only make them a bigger target. We first need to know why the Separatists attacked, once we know, we'll determine a course of action."

Rose nodded and relayed what Wolffe had said to King Manchucho. The king seemed to understand, but Rose could also pick up on some of the worry he hid behind his outgoing exterior. Rose couldn't question it at all; to see your people suffer, your village torn apart and in ruins, of course as a leader you'd be devastated. Not to mention how tiring it must be to try and keep all your people on track during such a hardship. Oddly, that made her think of Wolffe.

The king answered Rose with something Wolffe didn't understand, and the commander as well as Sinker were left witnessing their verbal exchange, not even bothering to try and see if they could recognize any words. All they could make out was that King Manchucho seemed solemn for a part of that conversation, and Rose seemed to answer with the same tone. Whatever that last thing she said was, it seemed to make him feel better, after which his smile was finally back, and unexpected to all, he jogged with his tiny legs over to Wolffe and hugged the clone commander's shin.

Wolffe tensed, fighting against every urge he had to shake the Aleena off his leg. He was still a living being, and a King. Still, Wolffe looked over at Rose, almost ready to bite her.

"I didn't tell him to do that," Rose said, her genuine surprise telling Wolffe she was telling the truth. Instead, Wolffe simply had to endure it until Manchucho chose to get off his leg, only to then turn to Sinker and do the same. After that, Manchucho said a few things to Sinker, which then Rose helped translate: "He, uh… he wants you to go with him to inspect some of the huts. Says it might help you investigate."

"Me?" Sinker asked.

"Yeah, you. I'm not sure why, maybe he just likes you," she said as she stood back up.

"I'm certainly more likeable than the average trooper," Sinker boasted. "What am I going to do for translation though?"

"He said it won't be a problem, I say we trust him."

"Alright then," Sinker sighed, putting his helmet. "Lead the way, little guy."

"He's a king, Sinker. You don't address a king as 'little guy'."

As he was walking off with Manchucho, Sinker briefly faced Rose with an exaggerated shrug before continuing his way. That being done, it left Rose alone with Wolffe, both of them in silence, heavy with the tension already between them and even more so with the aura of the entire place.

"What did he say to you?" Wolffe asked. "Before… you know, the hugging."

Rose sighed, surprising Wolffe by still behaving seriously rather than in her usual sarcastic manner with him. "He's confused. He has no idea why any of this is happening. He, as well as a lot of his people, think that this was all a punishment from the gods. They've been trying tirelessly to figure out what they've done wrong over the past season to deserve this."

"Please," Wolffe lightly rolled his eyes, unbothered by all the superstition.

"I'm sorry, are you criticizing them?" Rose challenged him.

"No, I'm trying to focus on the real perpetrators of the attack," Wolffe answered.

"You do that, I'll focus on the Aleena," Rose answered firmly, though surprisingly, not kidding. "I tried my best to convince him that wasn't the case, and that on the contrary, they were being looked out for. That's why we're here. I let him know you're the one in charge of the whole mission, probably that's why he hugged your leg."

Wolffe remained without a response, only for Rose to look at him with a devious smirk.

"What?" He asked her.

"See? We can work together as a team. So long as you're nice to me, of course."

He scoffed. "Right."

A couple moments in silence went by as the two of them stood in that spot, listening to the few sounds in the background.

"What now?" Rose asked him.

"I need to report to the captain who was here before us and let General Plo in on the situation at hand. After that I have to oversee the investigation."

"Good," Rose's eyes scanned the surroundings until she found a tent with a familiar logo, her legs starting to take her there on instinct. "I'm needed at the medical station."

"No, you're needed here," Wolffe stopped her, grabbing her wrist to get her to stop walking.

"What? Why?"

"I need you to translate."

"Your translator will be here any minute now, you don't need me here," she said.

"I do in the meantime."

"You won't be interacting with more Aleena, and I'll be far more useful at the hospital."

"Rose—"

"This is a humanitarian mission and these people have just been attacked," she continued, only then realizing he'd just called her by her name, but she wouldn't stop there. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to stand by translating while I could be helping Aleena recover."

"Listen to me, bunny, you might want to remember I'm your commander the next time you try and interrupt me," Wolffe snarled. "I'm giving you an order."

She took a stand. "Well, Wolffe, you might want to remember I'm a medic. I'm going to tend to the wounded."

Before Wolffe could say anything else, a shiny clone ran up to him, panting and directing a sloppy salute at the commander. "Translator reporting for duty, sir! Sorry I'm late."

Wolffe looked at Rose once more, still mad, anger only growing when he noticed Rose's frown became a smug grin.

"Lucky you. You don't need me anymore." Rose then turned around and made her way to the hospital, not bothering to be properly dismissed by him. She found maybe she could only limit to doing what she had to do, mission wise, and maybe that would keep her and Wolffe from fighting anymore. But that wasn't important at that moment, all she could think of now was the state in which she'd find the hospital.

And as the translator tried explaining a few things to Wolffe, the commander lingered after Rose, wondering what he'd done to be assigned a medic such as that one.

*

Hours had passed and night had fallen on Aleen. The arrival of the 104th helped stabilize things in the ruined village; while the Aleena were still devastated by their loss, the sound of chattering, laughing, and even some singing gradually began filling the air again.

Thanks to the GAR's efforts, the fires and smoke columns had been put out, and the planet's breeze finally cleared up the smog bundled above the village allowing for a clear view of Aleen's night sky, bursting with stars. The only columns of smoke now were those of bonfires scattered around the courtyard where clones and Aleena alike had downtime. Clusters of Aleena huddled together around bonfires received food and drinks, raising their mood, and being the first good night they'd had in a while, some of them even began dancing around the bonfires and telling stories.

Rose sat on a long log between about five Aleena, most of them young and lively, and across the bonfire from her sat a few elderly Aleena, gracefully listening to the conversation being made, and acted out, by their younger counterparts, most of which had been tended to by Rose throughout the day. She watched them and listened, though most of the time she was scanning the area, glad the Aleena were doing at least a bit better than the night before, even if she hadn't been there to see that.

In the middle of her pondering, Rose felt the touch of a soft fabric over her body, a blanket being draped over her to shield her from the night. Turning around, she noticed it was Comet who'd given her the blanket, and she also noticed the tray with food he was carrying with him. The plates were smaller, the food less elaborate, all of it rations destined for the soldiers rather than for the Aleena who needed it more. Rose smiled lightly at Comet in gratitude, and after handing her the rations, he took a seat next to her.

"Want some of the blanket?" She asked him.

"No, thanks, I'm good," Comet replied. "I'm sure you need it more than I do. Word from the higher ups is you've been hard at work at the hospital."

Rose's smile turned sour. "It's awful. It's been a long time since I've seen so many wounded in one place."

Comet smiled sadly at her. "If it's of any consolation, look at them now."

Rose gazed once again at the Aleena prancing and chattering around.

"Many of them are able to do that now because of you," Comet said. "Others will be able to soon. If anyone here is helping these little guys, it's you."

"Okay," Rose chuckled. "I'm not the only medic here."

"Well, then, by 'you' I mean medics," Comet corrected.

The two remained in silence as the Aleena continued their depiction of old stories and legends, at times, even chanting and reverencing at the night sky.

"What are they saying?" Comet asked.

Rose paid closer attention to them. "They're talking about how the night sky was formed."

"Oh," Comet said, not knowing if that meant mythology or how it was actually formed.

"Apparently they have a goddess for it," Rose explained, matching the gestures and words as the Aleena before her cast them. "Lili Tua, as they call her. She hated the darkness, tried convincing the sun god to shine through the whole day. But he refused, and he told her darkness had to exist, but further than that, Lili Tua was the only one he trusted to handle a power such as the night sky.

"Lili Tua still wasn't convinced with her newly given power, but it didn't take her long to realize she could do whatever she wanted with it. She went to visit a good friend of hers, Hua, the goddess of the earth, and asked her for a few seeds. With her divine power, Lili Tua planted those seeds in the sky," she finished with a smile. "The stars, in their view, are seeds."

"After that," Rose continued, "Lili Tua retreated underground with the rest of the gods, hopeful the seeds would grow. Whether they did or not, they still light up the night sky, and Lili Tua could rest easy knowing the children of Aleen would never be in full darkness."

A silence had fallen over them as Rose narrated the myth; chattering from clones and Aleena had faded as they've all settled to listen to her voice, something she only grew aware of when she'd finished. The silence wasn't tense, quite the contrary. People around the courtyard had been moved by the myth, and also, by the way Rose had cast it alongside the Aleena's acting.

"It's nice if you think about it," Rose said to Comet. "When some of those stars up there are actually planets that have given birth to life of their own, and some of those stars have their own systems. In a way, the Aleena are right."

"I never would have made it out that way," Comet said. "But it is nice."

"Yeah," she said before taking a bite out of the rations. The noise seemed pretty constant up until a moment when the chatter of Aleena riled up again and several of them began to gather around a large stone covered by a fabric. King Manchucho himself went over to it and, with his tiny hands, unveiled the stone and then posed triumphantly in front of it, beckoning for everyone else to see.

The sight of it was touching: it was a painting in progress of the landscape of the day. The village in ruins but no longer burning, Aleena still wounded, but smiling. Clones were painted as well as a few gunships and supplies, and Rose recognized Wolffe, Sinker, and Comet among them.

"Hey," Comet nudged her and pointed at one of the lower corners of the painting. An imitation of the medic symbol had been painted as well as a large tent, with several Aleena depicted as happy, surrounding a young woman with black hair. Nothing about her stood out except for the red color of her lips, prominent and outstanding the other features of her face, including her big eyes.

"No way," Rose grinned brightly.

"It seems they've taken a liking to you," Comet said as a young Aleena, among the youngest they'd encountered, hugged Rose's leg in gratitude.

She smiled softly. "I'm just doing my job."

"No, you're not," Comet countered. "Your job doesn't require you to go to lengths to be kind."

"What are you getting at?" She smiled suspiciously.

"That you're a good person," he smiled.

She smiled back at him, not commenting anything else.

"How's it going with the commander?" Comet asked her.

"As good as it can," she replied. "How's the investigation coming along?"

"It's coming," Comet hesitated. "There's no reason for the Separatists to be interested in Aleen for any tactical advantage. They don't grow any rare crops, this system doesn't connect with key hyperspace routes, and they have no significant political power. It just doesn't add up."

"So they're only attacking to terrorize?"

"To terrorize other systems into allying with them, yes," Comet answered.

"Would an alliance with the Republic protect them?"

"It would if the Republic deploys enough military presence to prevent military attacks, provided that doesn't attract any more Seppie attention. I don't think it will, though. The Separatists aren't going to give up key battle fronts to attack Aleena further, but I fear humanitarian aid is the most we'll be able to do for a while."

"It's something," Rose tried to be optimistic.

"It's really up to Wolffe to determine."

"Yippee," Rose's voice was full of sarcasm.

Comet snickered. "Do you hate him that much?"

"I'm not the one who hates him," she answered. "For some reason, he just doesn't like me. I don't care much about that, but the moment he starts pulling rank on me and trying to boss me around, then I have a problem."

"He pulled rank on you?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?"

Comet seemed confused. "Actually, no… that doesn't sound like him."

Rose scoffed. "Whatever. I was just starting to feel better about him and he goes and does that. Seriously, that is the one thing I don't take kindly to."

"Yeah, Sinker told us about it."

"Oh?" Rose feigned indignation. "You've been talking about me with Sinker? Who's us?"

"The boys."

"And what have you been talking about me?"

"Basically how we don't want you to leave our squad ever because you miraculously cure hangovers," Comet said. "And that you're really cool in general."

"And?" Rose knew he was still hiding something.

"And that you're hot."

"There it is," she chuckled. Rose opened her arm and pulled Comet in underneath the blanket so he'd have some of it, and afterwards, she rested her head on his shoulder as both of them continued looking at the painting, pointing out some of its details.

From the edge of the courtyard, Wolffe watched. Seeing her lean her head on Comet's shoulder was what finally made him look away. He'd heard her rendition of the myth, noticed her painted on the Aleena's mural to commemorate the GAR's help to them. His brothers loved her, the Aleena were wondered by her.

And yet, he seemed to be the only one who found her insufferable.

What conflicted Wolffe was that he didn't even know why. By all means, Rose was amazing. Charismatic, smart, witty, full of personality, undeniably sexy. Wolffe wondered if he would have reacted the same way to the yarrow had he not been drunk the night of the bar fight, and maybe if that were the case, he and Rose would have gotten off to a better start. Hell, earlier it seemed like they were both able to tolerate one another. What had changed?

No matter what Wolffe did, Rose never seemed to stand down when it came to him. Maybe that was what bothered him so much. He was always the leader, no one ever had a problem with him. Whatever it was, Wolffe dismissed it. He didn't much feel like dedicating Rose a lot more energy for the remainder of the night. He got up and made his way to make sure every Aleena had been well fed, that way at least he could call it a night.

It seemed everything had gone according to plan, and so far the humanitarian intervention on Aleen had proved a success. While he was ready to get some shut eye with a bit of satisfaction, Wolffe bumped into someone when he turned around to leave the feeding station, unamused to find it was none other than Rose still covered by the blanket she'd shared with Comet.

"Sorry," she said kindly, only for her whole face to drop when she realized it was Wolffe. "I… I didn't do that on purpose."

"I know you didn't," Wolffe replied. "Don't fret."

Rose didn't say anything, but her gaze averted from Wolffe's and for a moment it seemed she was almost bashful. "I just came to drop these off," her eyes gestured to the plates she was holding.

Wolffe took them from her. "That's fine."

Not really wanting to argue with him anymore, Rose briefly nodded at him and set to walk away when the commander's voice broke through again.

"You did a good job with the Aleena."

She scoffed. "And you wanted to keep me elsewhere," her words were like thorns, but Wolffe noticed she didn't show much resentment in her eyes. "A lot of them still have a way to go in recovery, but they'll make it."

The two remained in silence, a thick, tense one that threatened to suffocate them both.

"What have you thought about the course of action?" Rose surprised him by asking, but Wolffe knew she didn't ask it for the sake of talking to him. It was the Aleena she cared about at that moment.

"I'm still not sure, and I won't be until the investigation is complete," he said. "But from the looks of it, whether we make a formal alliance with them or not is irrelevant. These folks need humanitarian aid, which the Republic will provide with or without being allies."

"That's good to know," Rose answered.

The silence showered itself over them, though luckily not as long as before since Rose heard the shuffling of pebbles, drawing her attention to the darkness behind Wolffe where she noticed a female adult Aleena hiding behind one of the posts, shyness glazed upon her eyes.

"It would seem you have an admirer," Rose pointed out.

Puzzled, Wolffe looked in the direction Rose was looking and found the Aleena, who smiled and waved at him, but then hid before ultimately running away. Rose laughed, drawing the commander's attention back to her as he tried to process the sound of her laughter.

"Too small for me," Wolffe said.

"I hope that doesn't give you an excuse to treat her like crap, Wolffe," Rose said as she began to walk past him, but Wolffe straightened up and kept her from walking away, taking her wrist for only a split second before letting her go.

"Something you want to say to me, bunny?"

Rose looked up at him with a sly smile. "No, sir," she purred, her eyes wide with innocence before she walked away with a sway in her hips that the blanket miserably failed to cover.

Wolffe watched her go, trying his best not to focus on her hips, but rather on how she made him boil. Interrupting his thoughts, the sound of steps approached him followed by that of a whistle as Boost leaned on him as he also watched Rose as she returned to Comet's company, now also joined by Sinker and Corvis.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing," Wolffe growled.

"You still hate her?"

"I don't hate her."

"Then, with all due respect, commander, why are you such an ass to her?"

"What do you want, Boost?"

"Easy!" Boost teased. "I don't want anything, I'm just walking around before bedtime. Though now I'm kind of curious as to why you're both at each other's throats."

"Just focus on what you need to do for the mission," Wolffe dismissed.

"Don't you at least want to do something to try and get on better terms with her?" Boost said. "It might help if you just tried to get on her good side."

"She has no good side," Wolffe scowled.

"On the contrary, every side she has is good," Boost said. "Maybe you could start there?"

"Are you suggesting—"

"Yes, I'm suggesting."

"You're an idiot."

"Suit yourself," Boost smirked. "More for the rest of us. With how you treat her, she won't thirst for you anyway."

"Excuse me?"

"I said what I said, commander, and it's the truth."

"You think I couldn't take Rose to bed if I wanted to?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Wolffe donned his signature eye roll at even having that conversation with Boost.

"In fact, I dare you to try, if only it'll make you see I'm right."

"I'll do it if it'll get you to shut up," Wolffe shoved Boost.

"I don't think you've weighed the risks," Boost told him.

"Then enlighten me."

Boost laughed. "What a juicy turn of events. You want to sleep with Rose."

Rolling his eyes again, Wolffe began to walk away from Boost, only to continue being called out by his brother.

"A wolf walking through a rose brush is bound to get pricked, commander," Boost laughed.

Wolffe flipped Boost off without looking back at him, hearing as his brother's laughter faded the farther he walked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose laughing and talking with Sinker and Comet, who had clearly grown close to her. Why had it been so easy for them?

And was Boost right? Did any part of Wolffe want to get closer to Rose? He did feel attracted to her physically, of course he did, but most of the time Rose made him want to pull his hair out. Still, if he managed to get closer to her, what harm could it do? Wolffe seemed to accept the challenge.

Knowing everything would be in order until the next day, Wolffe retreated to the makeshift barracks near the gunships for the rest of the night.

-------

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# the hunt fanfiction# commander wolffe# wolffe# star wars# tcw wolffe fanfiction# tcw wolffe fanfic# wolffe fanfic# tcw wolffe# clone troopers# clones# clone trooper boost# clone trooper comet# clone trooper sinker# 104th battalion# star wars fanfic# star wars fanfiction# the clone wars fanfic# the clone wars fanfiction# cc 3636# clone trooper wolffe# clone commander wolffe# wolffe love story# commander wolffe love story

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Little headcanons I have on some of my fav clones!

Rex- Is a natural blonde, he got pushed around for it as a kid so one day he got his hands on a bottle of black dye and he was dying his hair, and it started to look really messy and bad, another cadet found him and helped out all while telling him he was special because of his hair and to stand up to bullies. That cadet was Cody.

Cody- Secret Diva 100% just as sassy as Kenobi, also surprisingly good with make up (he did Ahsoka's once for an undercover mission) might be because he has a steady hand. He probably helps with the nose art on the gunships.

Wolffe- He has a mutation as well, he has freckles all over his shoulders and back, he tries to hide them because everyone calls them cute.

Fives- Won a plush toy while of leave after Echo *died*, he found it helped to hold something while sleeping, he keeps it in his barracks and hands it round as a mascot to anyone else who has nightmares.

Echo- Rex gave him the plush toy when they found him, Echo renamed it Domino and it's become the Bad Batch mascot.

Kix- Has been known to put more sugar that caff in his morning drink, then complains about how bad the 501st dental reviews were.

Jesse- Is a king at sabacc, no one knows where he learnt to play so well or if he is just good at cheating.

Waxer- He sings lullabies to any scared shiny, he did it one time for some poor young clone and put the whole barracks to sleep, Commander Cody included.

Boil- Secretly is in love with Waxer when he sings said lullabies.

# captain rex# commander cody# commander wolffe# arc trooper fives# arc trooper echo# clone trooper jesse# clone trooper kix# waxer# clone trooper boil# waxer and boil# headcanon

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Cloneshipweek July 2021 Bingo

Day 4: Painting

Pairing: Fox/Wolffe

Rated: G

Day 1 // Previous // Next

@cloneshipweek

"Hold still."

Fox wrinkled his nose, but stopped shifting. "It tickles!"

Wolffe huffed above him, and Fox felt the hard end of the paint brush poke his side.

"Hey!" he yelped. "That's not gonna help me keep still, you know!"

Wolffe snickered, but didn't poke him again. And when the brush touched Fox's bare back again, it was a little firmer, less ticklish.

Fox relaxed into the sensation of Wolffe slowly painting his skin, idly wondering what was taking shape on his back. He couldn't tell what was going on from the gentle touches or the cool glide of the paint - Wolffe hadn't even let him see the colors beforehand.

Whatever it was, he was sure it would be beautiful.

Wolffe usually painted on plastoid, updating his armor design every few months, but he had done quite a few of the Wolfpack gunships' nose art. He was particularly pleased with how 'Plo's Bros' had turned out.

When he had asked Fox if he could paint him, Fox hadn't even hesitated. He trusted Wolffe - he loved Wolffe, with a depth that took his breath away sometimes.

Whatever Wolffe decided should grace Fox's skin, he was sure it would be perfect.

It felt like both an eternity and yet no time at all before he felt Wolffe shifting, swinging his leg up and over to get up from where he had been sitting on Fox's butt. "Don't move," Wolffe said quietly. "I need to take a picture for you to see."

Fox hummed and kept still, only turning his head to pillow his cheek on his forearm. From this position, he was just barely able to see Wolffe standing behind him, holding up a holorecorder and fiddling with the settings.

"Okay," he finally said. Instead of waiting for Fox to get up, Wolffe settled onto the mat next to him, showing him the screen.

Fox's breath caught in his throat as he looked at the picture. It was a nebula, bright orange and yellow and white against the black void of space. As he took it in, it became clear that the nebula was in the shape of a fox, prowling through the stars.

"Wolffe," he said softly, reaching out to trace a finger over the deliberate curve of the fox's ghostly spine. "This is… incredible."

"You think so?"

Fox turned to press a kiss to Wolffe's cheek. "I know so. I just… wow." He took another moment to admire the picture of the gorgeous painting on his back. "Wonder if I could find a tattoo artist that could make it permanent…"

Wolffe made a surprised noise. "You want it forever?"

"Of course," Fox grinned. "It's badass, it's cool as hell, and you made it. Of course I want to keep it forever."

A flush was spreading over Wolffe's cheekbones. "Kriffing sap," he muttered, but he was smiling.

Fox laughed and kissed him again, already running through a mental list of the best tattoo parlours on Coruscant.

Maybe he could convince Wolffe to paint him more tattoo options in the future.

# cloneshipweek# cloneshipbingo# commander fox# commander wolffe# painting# fox/wolffe# my writing# my fanfic

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Can I ask for a part 2 to Mischief with Hardcase? I'd love to see Rex's reaction.

(I'm so sorry for how long it's taken me to finish this, but here's the continuation! For the people who haven't read the first chapter, you can do it here)

As predicted, Hardcase does wake up cranky the next morning, but even then he's barely able to contain the excitement at the wonderful day that this one is going to be. Soon he'll be able to reap the fruits of his hard labor, and he can't wait.

Rex is going to be mad, furious even, and it's going to be glorious, so much that Hardcase has made sure that he'd be able to record his reaction with the recording device attached to his visor. He's going to need that footage for posterity's sake.

Jesse notices the way he grins to himself - Hardcase has never been good at being subtle - and asks him what's going on, but Hardcase just winks at him and replies with a simple "you'll see". Yes, technically he's supposed to keep the secret, but he's confident on the fact that Jesse will know to shut up.

Besides, he finds it a bit sad that his greatest work won't even be attributed to him, so he's happy to let at least someone know, as long as he doesn't say anything to Rex, but Hardcase has some dirt on Jesse that, if he dares rat him out, will unleash on everyone he knows.

When he reaches Rex, he makes sure to stick with him as they make their way to the hangar, which once they get to it, is way more filled than Hardcase thought it would be and, judging by the way more than a few people begin laughing their asses off as soon as they see Rex, they must've seen his handiwork.

And Rex, the poor sod, looks at the men looking at him and laughing, and he can't understand what's going on, to the point that he turns towards Hardcase. "Is there something on my face?" he asks, gesturing to it.

Hardcase deserves a medal just for the fact that he doesn't laugh, though he's helped by the fact that his own face is concealed by his helmet, so Rex can't see his expression waver as he tries to control himself. "No sir. All good."

Rex still looks doubtful, but he nods and carries on, figuring that, whatever's going on with the man, will pass soon, or he'll make it pass, with force. They're about to depart, they need to be focused on their objective.

He must realize that there's a big problem when he spots General Skywalker and he too is laughing his ass off for something. Rex is beginning to wonder what the hell happened.

When Skywalker see Rex, he immediately walks to him, putting one arm around his neck as they walk towards the gunship that will transport them. "Hey, Rex! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, sir?" the other replies, confused. The General's laugh only manages to get him even more perplexed, and also a bit irritated. "What the hell is going on?! Why does everyone seem to have it out for me today?"

Ah, poor Rex. He'll find out soon, very soon, and Hardcase can't wait.

They arrive at the gunship. This is it.

Hardcase is going to explode from all the emotions that he's feeling.

Rex finally looks up, and he notices the nose art.

As soon as his eyes set on the thing, he lets the bucket he was holding fall to the ground while his face grows a few shades darker. He looks like he's going to explode!

At this point, Hardcase can't hold back his laughter anymore, just like all the other troopers who were trying to do the same. It helps that General Skywalker's finding it funny too.

"CODY!"

Rex's voice booms like thunder, for how mad he is. Oh, this is the best already.

When Cody reaches him, at first he looks worried, figuring that something must be wrong, but he soon understands what the real problem is, and once he's taken in the incriminating nose art, he bursts into laughter, louder than anyone else present. "Rex! What the… Ahahahahah!"

At this point, Rex is positively fuming. Hardcase wouldn't be surprised if smoke began coming out of him. As he stomps towards Cody, he yells "Tell your trooper that he's a dead man!"

Yes! He fell for it! He thinks Waxer did it!

"If anything, I should give him a promotion!" Cody exclaims then, almost doubling over for the laughter.

At that point, all Rex can do is to keep throwing accusations, that Cody was the one who told Waxer to do it, that General Skywalker was in on it as well, all sorts of things.

Even when Waxer, hearing his name being yelled a lot of times, makes his way to Rex and defends himself, it changes nothing.

"Sir, I swear I didn't do it! I've been in the barracks all night, there are witnesses!"

"Oh right, because I'm sure nobody would cover for you for a prank, right?"

Waxer is visibly panicking. Yes, the painting has been done modeling his style, but he couldn't have done it… Wait couldn't he? What if he sleepwalked or something like that? Nah, it's impossible! Still, how is he supposed to convince Rex, giving that he doesn't want to listen to reason? "S-Sir, please! It wasn't me!"

At that point, General Skywalker had to step in, or else they wouldn't have gotten anything done that day. He puts himself between Rex and Waxer, hands raised gesturing to calm down.

"Alright, guys. As much as I'm enjoying myself right now, we have work to do. You can settle this… whatever it is later, alright?" he says, and before Rex can reply, he's already dragging him to the gunship, so that they can finally depart.

Hardcase's too far to hear what Rex mutters to the General, but they mustn't be kind words seeing how hard Skywalker's trying not to laugh.

This truly went better than he expected, Hardcase thinks as he stops the recording, figuring that now the time for jokes and pranks is over.

After all, if he doesn't focus on what's important now, he'll never get to come back from this mission, and he can't deprive the galaxy of the footage he's just taken, can't he? No, that would be too cruel.

Besides, he's sure that, now that he's involved Waxer, he will counterattack in some way or another, which means that he'll have to think about raising some defenses, all without implicating himself in the creation of - let's admit it - the sexiest nose art that anyone has ever done, because then he'd become target of Rex's fury, and he doesn't want that.

Despite himself, he can't help but to grin under his bucket.

This is going to be so much fun!

# 200 followers bingo# clone trooper hardcase# captain rex# my fics# this is just an exception because i liked the prompt and i kinda wanted to write a continuation to that chapter anyway# don't go ask for other continuations of other chapters# at least until i reopen requests

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Unspoken (Captain Rex x Reader)

Wordcount: 2.5k Warnings: canon typical violence, some swearing, but apart from that it's pretty soft, Rex almost faints over hand-holding

A/N: aight I tried posting this yesterday and Tumblr really told me to go screw myself by yeeting it out of the tags, so we're going to try this again! Apol to the couple of people that reblogged the last version before it vanished off the face of the earth. This is prob going to be part one of three I think?

Rex steps into the hangar bay, two cups of caf in hand and a datapad shoved under his arm, and is entirely unsurprised to see you poring over a ship, even though he knows for a fact your shift ended three hours ago.

He can't help the fond uptick of his mouth as he watches you fuss, your hair falling in your face, a smudge of engine oil on one cheek. The bay is full of movement, squad leaders checking in with their transports ahead of the ground battle they're going to engage on the planet below. Rex has run through so many different simulations ahead of the campaign he's started dreaming about it. Sedratis is green and beautiful from space, but they have had three whole briefings about the planet's aggressive fauna, and after Felucia Rex knows that looks are definitely not everything. If he doesn't have to rescue Hardcase at least once after he tries to 'make new friends', it will be a cause for celebration.

The huge Separatist blockade looming in front of Sedratis is going to keep both General Skywalker and General Huulik busy for the forseeable. Commander Tano is going to be directing from the bridge, so Torrent, alongside some of Huulik's men from the 273rd, are going this one alone. In some ways it means Rex is actually more relaxed – he doesn't have to make contingencies to try and account for whatever crazy osik Skywalker or Tano might pull – but it does mean that nobody with a lightsaber will be around to swoop in if things go south. It takes a different mindset to plan for, one Rex hasn't had to use in a while.

But before any of that he has a few moments for himself, and he intends to use them wisely.

"Kix is goin' to chase you out of here with a sedative if you're not careful," he says, smile breaking into a grin when you yelp and spin on your heel.

"Oh – Captain!" You exclaim, and he watches closely as your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip. It's only something you do when you're nervous, and seeing it now makes his stomach twist with anticipation. "I don't know what you mean."

Rex scoffs, hands you one of the cups of caf, and uses his newly freed hand to disengage his bucket. It's important to him that you can properly see him mock you.

"Did you lose your chrono or have you been wilfully ignorin' it again?"

He grins again when a blush rises in your face. It's been three whole days since he last managed to make an excuse to see you in person, too busy with all his Force-damned paperwork. You've been sending him little comm messages at the end of your repair reports, waiting there for when he reviews them; silly incidents that have happened to passing brothers, jokes you've heard in the hallways. But it just isn't the same.

"Neither," you mutter, shooting him a dirty look, but your eyes are warm as you curl your hand more firmly around the caf. "Just got caught up, you know how it is. What did I do to deserve the delivery service?"

"Knew you'd be tired when I didn't find you in your bunk," Rex shrugs, lifting his own caf to his lips. It's standard GAR issue, so it tastes like shit, but the warmth helps drag a little of the tension from his shoulders. "Swear you never kriffin' sleep."

"That's rich. How many cups of caf does that bring you to today? Eight?" You shoot back instantly, then tilt your head. "You…you came looking? For me?"

Rex clears his throat, the tips of his ears going warm. In hindsight, it is probably a bit less subtle than he'd hoped. He wasn't really thinking when he headed down here, beyond the simple need to steal a few last moments with you ahead of the drop. He doesn't know when it got this way either, that the times he breathes easiest are when he's sat here with you. He'd known you were interesting from the day he walked in to find you shouting at Skywalker, gesturing furiously at the smouldering junk heap he'd somehow managed to pilot in. And somewhere along the way passing comments had become jokes, had become long conversations, had become the comfortable silence that rests between you now, as he puts his helmet down on a nearby crate and sits, stretching out his legs with a groan.

"Yeah, I have the last drop check forms for Tide Company, they need signin'," he says, feeling the heat creep down the back of his neck at the unimpressed look you give him. He passes over the datapad with all the casualness he can muster, and fights the urge to fidget as your eyebrows rise.

"Literally any mechanic could have signed these for you." You say finally, dutifully tapping in your credentials anyway.

"Maybe I didn't want just any mechanic," he mumbles before he can stop himself, then grits his teeth together.

"Oh? What if I'd been busy?"

"Then I'd have waited. And you'd have gotten cold caf."

You scoff and tap some more, but your smile is shy and pleased, and Rex feels something uncoil inside him.

"There," you say a moment later, slapping the datapad into his chest. "All those lovely ships are ready to get kriffed back up again."

Rex smirks. "I'm sure the boys'll be up to the job. Wouldn't want you gettin' bored."

The look you give him is so incredulous he can't help the huff of laughter that punches out of his chest.

You shake your head at him. "It's almost as if you like reading reports about the rear hyperdrive alternator. Even I don't, and I actually understand what they mean."

I do if they're written by you.

This is what Rex almost says, before he catches it at the last moment and shoves deep down into his chest, along with all the other feelings he has and doesn't know how to deal with. He knows some of the boys think he's repressed, though Fives is the only one brave enough to be vocal about it, and maybe they're right. But he wouldn't be where he is if he wasn't at least somewhat self-aware; he does understand himself well enough to know that he's shebs deep in feelings he shouldn't have. And sometimes, when he sees you nervously lick your lips, or look at him like you are now, he lets himself believe you like him too.

Maybe if he was a braver man, he would do something about it. Regulations aren't the issue – the GAR wouldn't actually do any fighting if they tried to pull up every vod that stole happiness with other people. And the vode protect their own. There are lots of little things their superiors are none the wiser to.

But clones are given so little, and he savours the way your gaze makes warmth lick through his blood. He loves collecting the little things about you; the curve of your neck when you work, the belly laugh he has only witnessed twice, the hoarse sound of your voice when you're half asleep and pretending not to be. They are the memories that Rex pulls out and leans on during hard campaigns, the things he armours himself with when he's surrounded by sleeping brothers in the dark and feels the weight of all those lives resting on his shoulders. If he risks it and you don't feel the same, then they will not be his anymore, and Rex doesn't think he can bear going back to having nothing but his name.

"I think I'm learnin'," is what he says instead, finishing off his caf and crossing his boots in front of him. "Gettin' real familiar with all those…valves."

"Force help me," you mutter fondly, nudging his shoulder with your own. "If you don't stop distracting me you're not going to get out on time, Captain."

"I thought all the repair work had been done," Rex frowns, looking over his squad's gunship for any obvious flaws. Nothing looks out of place, but that doesn't mean it isn't. Rex is still sore about the time you asked him to pass you a spanner and then laughed at him when he gave you a wrench. They all kriffing look the same. "She's gonna be okay for the drop, right?"

You step up to the nose art of Rotta stuffed into a grenade bag and pat the aurebesh that proudly proclaims the ship 'The Ugly Huttling'. "Of course. I'm just running the pre-flight checks, that's all."

"Doesn't sound like a job for the head mechanic. 'Specially not one that's off duty."

You don't reply immediately, scrolling down your own datapad and tapping off a few more things. His stomach does another happy little flip when you take a piece of hair and wind it thoughtfully around your finger. Sometimes when he's falling asleep and not so in control, he imagines what it would feel like to run his own hands through it, how it might smell with your head resting under his chin.

Then a thought occurs to him and he frowns. "You are actually sleepin', right? It's not like Point Rain?"

He remembers seeing you slumped over at 0400 in the mess, poring over the damages lists for the fourth cycle in a row, the shadows bruised deep under your eyes. You hadn't known each other well then, able to exchange friendly quips in the corridors but not much else, and he'd been tired enough himself after filing the last casualty reports. You weren't even under his direct chain of command – nobody would have known if he'd walked away and gone to his bunk. But Rex had watched you for a moment, recognising the telltale signs of a soldier on the edge, and had sat across from you instead.

He'd not realised what it must have been like for the flight teams, to watch all their boys go down in seconds under the harsh Geonosian sun, their ships instantly turning into tombs. Not until you'd cried into your hands in front of him, wracked with guilt over every oil change that might have given the transports an edge.

"No! No, of course not."

Rex draws his eyebrows together and peers into your face. "'Cause I told you, it gets like that again, just come find me –"

"I'm fine. I'm serious, Captain."

Rex makes another doubtful noise – he knows you bottle things up. You huff and roll your eyes.

"Look, it's just…I don't like letting anyone else do your pre-drop checks," you mumble, not meeting his eyes. Rex freezes. Your tongue sweeps over your lip again before you worry it with your teeth. There is definitely colour high in your cheeks now, and he itches to reach out and feel the blush against his fingertips. "I like knowing I've done everything I can to keep you safe."

Rex feels something in his chest squeeze. "Oh. Oh – that's –"

He clears his throat gruffly and rubs the back of his neck, not even sure what expression is on his face but knowing he needs to get rid of it quick. Torrent is almost definitely on their way down here by now, and if they see him like this, they're never going to shut up about it. He has trouble enough with Fives and Jesse as it is.

"Silly. Yeah, I know." You huff, the sound harsh.

"Not what I was gonna say," Rex mutters, shooting out a hand to grasp your wrist. He barely catches the soft gasp that leaves your mouth, but Force, it hits him like a blaster bolt. Your hand curls over his vambrace, cradling the chipped, mass-produced plastoid like it's worth something, like it's precious. "I was gonna say thanks."

The corner of your mouth lifts. "Thank me by coming back."

Before he loses his nerve, Rex slips his hold down to squeeze your palm. Your fingers curl instantly around his own. "I think I can do that."

There's a long moment where you stare at each other, and Rex feels his pulse thunder in his ears because you are holding his hand and he wants.

"Torrent reportin' for drop, Captain!"

Echo's voice rises above the surrounding noise as Rex's personal squad enters the hangar bay, and the moment breaks.

You jerk away from Rex with a curse, flailing for your datapad. "Bantha shit, I'm not ready! I told you you'd make me late."

Rex watches dazedly as you finish your checks, barely aware of anything else until Jesse steps up beside him and jams an elbow into his ribs. "Wondered where you'd slunk off to, sir."

Rex grunts, muttering something about paperwork, and moves away to retrieve his helmet. He can feel the way Torrent is watching you both with undisguised curiosity and is suddenly dreading the ride down to the surface. He's never been cheered up by the thought of turbulence before, but faced by the smirk on Fives' face, it really does feel like the best option.

Fives says something to you that Rex doesn't hear, but it makes you gasp and smack him as you make your way back over.

"You're all clear, Captain."

"Copy that. Time 'til drop, Fives?" He snaps off automatically, the familiar motions grounding him, bringing him back to himself in an instant. As Rex speaks, the huge doors bisecting the ship open above the hangar, and there is a distant roar as the first wave of starfighters take off.

"Five standard minutes, sir."

The pilot has already hauled himself into the cockpit, and as the LAAT/i doors slide open, Rex crams his bucket back on. There is a message from General Skywalker on the HUD confirming that the fighters are moving into position, so all there is left to do now is get their shebs moving. His men pile in and he steps on board last, reaching up to grab an overhead strap.

He lets himself look back over his shoulder at you once, finds your eyes already on him. You grin at him, a last gift that he grabs hold of with both hands.

"Bring me back a souvenir, yeah?" You ask the squad at large. "I could use a super-battle droid around here to help me carry things."

Echo leans forward so you can hear him as engines start up. "Sorry sir, battlefield trophies are against regs."

You pout. "Not even one measly droid finger?"

"We'll at least send you a holo, sir!" Hardcase shouts, the sound of your laugh stolen by the noise.

The doors slide shut and Rex takes a breath, one hand drifting down to grip the butt of his pistol. Now he just has another battle to win, so that when he comes home there will be more moments to steal, and more caf to share with you

# captain rex x you# captain rex# the clone wars# the clone wars fic# commander rex x reader# alderwrites# captain rex x y/n# rex x reader# captain rex x reader# userkarina# ldsfhskdfsd i rlly hope it's okay i've used your hashtag here rini# i saw your post and would be v excite if u wanted to read this

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a good thought i had: clones putting children's cartoon characters on the gunships as nose art. like a gunship swoops down to take out a bunch of droids while it has sailor moon painted on it

YES! Tom and jerry, Sailor moon, Pokemon. ALL the cartoons!

There is a triple set of gun ships with the 501st. One has daffy duck and says "rabbit season". another has Bugs bunny and it says "duck season" and the third has Elmer Fud and the guns are a bit fucked up, cant shoot straight.

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do you ever like,,look at the nose art the clones have on their gunships and the posters they have in their barracks and wonder what horny thots run through their clone brains

like they're soldiers they're probably deprived horny mf's but they also presumably have limited experience with women and romance

imagine if you, as a clone's s/o, posed like that for them, they'd probably bust on the spot

this is SO LATE IM SORRY but fuck yes to this idea. i will happily be a cute lil pinup girl for the nose of ur ship, boys. some of em would get real flirty and some would get flustered. would be so fun n flirty I'm living

# cute 🥺# but also sexy 😌# love it here# vee answers# slurp slurp hours# anon

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can i request a scenario where theres pinup gun ship art of you lol and you and rex are together and rex sees it and you can decide if hes jealous, turned on/proud, or mad or whatever you want! idk if that's enough to work with but you have really great writing ideas and style so i know you'll do it justice!!

Anon who sent this omg, tysm!!!! i had so much fun writing this and i hope that y'all enjoy reading this

Rumor has it that there's a pinup of Senator Amidala on the Havoc Marauder.

If any of your assumptions were correct, it was something that perhaps her significant other would not be very happy about. You've never seen it yourself, but word get around quickly in the GAR. Artwork on gunships was part of military life. "Plo's Bros" enjoyed that liberty very well among with countless other squadrons who had taken time to sketch out and paint elaborate designs. Often it would include some insult to the Seperatists, severed droid heads, and/or a reference to the members of the squadron. A scantily clad senator? That was a new one.

It wouldn't be a surprise coming from Bad Batch, you've met the bunch and each was more interesting than the last. They didn't take to kindly to your presence the first time you met. At best Tech and Wrecker were ambivalent, Hunter was respectful, but quick to get it over with, and Crosshair didn't let you get a word out before declaring his distaste for your presence.

It came with the territory of life as a GAR tactician.

You'd spent every other standard week with different battalions and legions. Your specialty? Difficult situations or, as General Kenobi might say, "fun tasks". In the midst of war, there is no shortage of entertaining perilous affairs. Unfortunately, it also happened to be that one Jedi General had the tendency to find himself involved in such matters. General Skywalker's reputation preceded him. Fearless and brave but headstrong and a bit imprudent. Yet, the frequent misfortune of the 501st became your luck.

It led you to Rex, after all.

The very same Rex who now stood in your doorway. Though you had to voice the words to the Captain, you loved him. Plastoid, scars, and all. Perhaps you're omission had more to do with the fact that he hadn't said it yet either. You didn't want to place him in a position to admit something he didn't feel. Judging by the look of consternation that crossed his face, such thoughts of admission would have to hold off for now.

He was blocking your exit, hands help up in front of him as to keep you away. It confounded you.

"I tried to stop them, I promise."

The words escape in a panicked rush. The crease between his brows increasing. His posture familiar to you as the one he took before going off into some life threatening decision on the field. But there was something more. Much less resigned and much more anxious. Something you had never known Rex to be. It puts you on edge, triggering you into action. Your attempt to exit your room now a necessity.

"I— Rex, what happened?"

Rex avoids eye contact and refuses to let you out. The edges of his mouth dipping into a frown before replying.

"They wouldn't listen and I—"

He cuts himself with a deep breath. You can tell now by the wandering look of his eyes that he's searching for the words. Expecting them to be sitting in some corner of your small room. It's when his eyes pinpoint on some spot behind you that the features on his face soften into something that stresses you far more, guilt. He finally meets your eyes.

"I had a briefing with General Skywalker and they did it anyways."

A defeated whisper.

It tears at your heart to see him this way. What could possibly cause him such anguish?

"Rex, whatever it is—"

"I'm sorry."

He cuts you off with the heartfelt apology. You give him a second to regain some peace before attempting to ask again.

"Rex, love, what is it?"

You consider the fact that he's still looking you in the eye as a small success.

"I—"

You wrap your hands around his wrists, lowering them without much effort. It seems to give him the needed reassurance to finish the phrase.

"I think it's better if you see it for yourself."

The words spur further apprehension, but it doesn't matter until a solution can be found. So, you offer a nod.

"Alright, let's go."

With that, you're both out the door. His hand entangling between yours as guide you through the halls. Every so often you give a light squeeze, wishing that it would ease the tension in the Captain's shoulders. Recognizing the path you're taking as the one to the hangar reduces perturbation, but peaks your curiosity. The 501st hadn't been scheduled for any missions and you had seen most of them in the mess a few hours ago. Making it impossible that any of them being injured on an assignment. No alarms had gone off to indicate a crisis aboard the cruiser.

And that's when Rex stops at the hangar entrance. Squeezing your hand before disentangling your fingers with the expectation that there would be others inside.

"I'm sorry."

He apologizes again, he seems exasperated now.

You ignore the comment, prepared to enter the hangar. He's left behind for a moment. Upon entering you see nothing out of order. There are mechanics milling about, clones preparing or returning for missions. Hyperaware of your surroundings you take note of everything around. And then you spot them. All surrounding the gunship. Surrounded by buckets of paint. Some lounging were about, Kix and Jesse had brushes in hand, Fives had a roller working at the opposite end of the ship. Echo was standing upon a ladder, he has a smaller object placed between his finger. Probably a smaller paint brush.

Is this what Rex had been worried about? His vod'ika quietly at work, painting. In all honesty, this the most tame thing you've ever seen the 501st do.

You hear his steps behind you. Finally having decided to catch up.

"I tried to stop them."

You snort at the thought. Not even Rex had complete control over his squadron. And what offense was there in them doing the same thing countless other squadrons had done.

"It's alright."

"You haven't seen it yet, have you?"

The question gives you pause. Seen what? It's then that the boys take notice of your presence. Instantly a smile growing on their faces, except for Dogma who seems more abashed.

Jesse greets you first.

"Captain, you've brought her to see our gift?"

Echo's climbing down from the ladder and Fives' is motioning you both forward. Your Captain releases a sigh… of frustration? Whatever is that they're talking about must be on the other side.

It's not.

As you take a few steps forward, you see the tarp laying over the side of the gunship, obscuring something out of view.

"On the count of three boys," Five shouts.

"One."

They count together.

"Two."

Hardcase's hand reaches for the bottom of the tarp. Ready to pull it away.

"Three."

"Mesh'la, I'm sorry," Rex apologizes.

The tarp falls.

"Oh, Maker."

The words fall softly from your lips. Not exactly sure what to make of what it is in front of you. You can't see Rex's face too transfixed on the painting. The boy's all have expectant looks, awaiting the approval from there favorite tactician.

You're not sure how they came up with the idea. But on the side of the ship is you in an immodest version of your tactical suit. Pants torn in spots revealing far more leg than you think you ever had in the midst of battle. Strapped to your right thigh DC-17 blaster. Your eyes move up the painting. Your sight catches on the cut in your top stretching along your ribcage up to the upper left side of your torso, exposing a modest amount of side boob. In one hand you're holding a DC-15A rifle while the other hand rests on your hip. They had even painted in the small scar you had across your nose.

Kriff.

You looked great.

A minute passes, it seems they all take your stunned silence for displeasure.

"We can paint something new," Echo breaks the silence.

Pulling you away from admiring the detailed work.

"I told you all not to—" Rex begins.

You stop him, turning slightly to place a hand on his chest.

"No, it's alright. I really like it."

"Are— are you sure?"

He struggles with the words, his voice catching on the first word. His tone much more different than the pained one from earlier. He speaks with relief and something else you can't quite place.

"I.. uh… yeah. It's great."

You're in awe. Had the 501st really deemed you worthy enough to be the image on their gunship? Had it been anyone other squadron you'd be terribly embarrassed, but it being them? You were flattered. The boys are cheering now, punching each other in the arm. The noise catching attention of the few beings around, who are clearly confused. Others making a double take after seeing the painting and then you not so far from it.

Rex's hands moves to your hips turning you completely to face him. Your arms moving up to loop around his neck. The look on his face is earnest and still mildly concerned.

"Are you sure it's okay?"

He asks again. Rex, ever the gentleman.

"I should be asking you that, Captain."

The look on his face turns to confusion, an eyebrow quirked. He doesn't have to voice his question for you to answer.

"After all, one of your men came up with that idea."

You're smirking now at the look of realization on his face. Satisfaction bubbling into a laugh.

You were right.

One of his men (or several of them) had indeed conjured up the idea of his girlfriend as a pinup model. It makes him recall the cover an adult holovid that had been lying around the barracks during an inspection last week.

"Maker, I love you," he adds before pressing a quick kiss to to your lips.

And then he's letting you go, forcing you to unravel your hands from his neck. The words stun you, but you don't get the chance to respond because he's turning around.

"Fives, I'm giving you a ten second head start to run before I kill you."

The words are spoken without emotion. Far more frightening than if he had yelled. The men no longer cheering, but standing with their mouths open in shock. Fives drops the paint roller, it clatters with a small splat as the wet material hits the floor. It takes him approximately three seconds before he takes off running towards the exit on the opposite side. Rex takes a moment before chasing after the ARC trooper, turning to face you. You're still smiling like a fool, which only grows wider at his next words.

"See you in your room in 45," finishing with a wink.

And then he's taking off.

# captain rex imagine# captain rex x reader# rex imagine# rex x reader# clone wars imagine# clone wars

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Find the Word Tag Game

(Double Feature)

tagged by: @zmlorenz & @sleepyowlwrites my words: amble, art, avid, alarm, aware, hidden, hungry, hair, height, hinder tagging: @ashen-crest, @drippingmoon, @silentstarskies, @druidx, and anyone else who wants to participate! No pressure of course. your words: gross, falter, necessary, greet, strange

amble saunter (Destiny)—

The eliyi opened fire on the venevans, decimating three gunships on the first shot. The leader turned tail and fled while the others returned fire as much as they could before being blown to bits.

Shoulders squared, Thrive sauntered back to the comm station and reached across Warren to turn on the channel. "...What did I tell you about coming after Warren?"

"You will pay for your insolence!" Ysha screamed. "You will—"

"Noted," Thrive snapped before he hung up on her. "I suppose I'm making another trip to Veneve when this is all said and done."

art (Rebirth)—

"Oh," Warren said, eyeing the syringe Gouna presented to him the next morning. "So...you all haven't evolved past sharp stabby things yet, huh?"

Gouna shook his head and wrapped a cold rubber tourniquet around Warren's bare arm. "Nor have we overlooked the art of vaccination."

Warren gave him a strange look. "Sure, Gouna...."

avid eager (Eternal)—

Guetry came at them, nose buried in his comm device. "Alright, I shot a text to Alec; she's still working on the Ganymede, which just came back from a mission yesterday. I can request the ship, but it's gonna have to—"

He looked up, caught sight of Mercury, and recoiled as if struck. Warren watched Mercury's expression soften while Guetry's eyes took on a peculiar faraway quality like a million memories had flashed before him just by looking at his face.

"Okay," Guetry said, as if his world had not been obviously rocked. "...I've seen half-chewed graha more appealing than you, bro."

Mercury's laugh was not quiet, and he threw his arms open, eager to accept the equally enthusiastic embrace from Guetry. "That don't mean a damn thing comin' from you, Sympa. Lord, it's been a whole minute, hasn't it?"

alarm (Rebirth)—

"I've gotten the eight hours required by Gouna." Thrive dropped the mattresses far away from the windows. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to settle myself for a few more."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need you to be my alarm clock," Warren warned as he sank onto one of the oddly plush mattresses that gave off a very strong, stale smell the moment his knee connected with it. "This place may be creepy as hell and night may not be long but I'm gonna be dead here."

Thrive waved to shut off the light in the top corner, startling the Rotangan guards. "I'll give us time to discuss the plan further before we head out in the morning."

"'Kay," Warren said, barely registering Thrive moving him onto his side and curling a protective arm around his waist before he fell asleep.

aware (Destiny)—

"There are more eliyi incoming," Thrive said, ignoring Warren's eye-roll beside him. "We've tasked ourselves with enlisting the assistance of other races in your galaxy to fight them off and deal with those already here."

"Other races? The monsters here don't end as it is!" She held a hand to her mouth. "How could there be other races in the Milky Way?"

Thrive frowned and propped the rifle on his shoulder. "We're all still aware I'm from an entire other galaxy full of aliens, yes?"

hidden (Rebirth)—

"We have been legally adjoined for a long time. And OmmilliCulos has been my heart for as long as I can remember. I would...die for them."

Warren looked at Osillo carefully. Their eyes glossed with unshed emotion and a muscle flexed beneath the near-translucent skin on their jaw. "So...you are," he said.

"They are being hidden away somewhere remote," Osillo said immediately. "Along with Ulliara. Somewhere I don't have access to or know the location. They have been given a leave of absence from the Consortium, agreeing to only contact the Node through heavily encrypted messages. I...don't know where they are. And until they're safe, I won't."

hungry (Eternal)—

He tried to ignore that he hadn't heard from Thrive in a few weeks. In truth, their correspondence was scarce anyway, yet they were pushing the longest amount of time without speaking since Warren left Tournaltis, and it didn't feel good. He missed him badly enough without being able to hold or touch or kiss him, but not hearing his voice or reading words he'd written on top of that...it triggered another period of regret he didn't deserve to feel.

He grabbed an early breakfast sandwich from a vendor on the way to the tram station and doubled back for another one upon realizing how truly hungry he had been. He paid the vendor more than necessary, more than he could afford, but it helped alleviate the pit in his stomach.

If DeCosta was going to send him right back to Veneve after having just come home from a pretty bad run there, he wasn't sure he could handle it. It wasn't even a week ago that he watched a piece of shrapnel from an ambush launch itself in a teammate's face, almost killing him, and he wasn't sure he could shake that memory off easily.

hair (Rebirth)—

Thrive shifted his focus back to Warren from the corner of his eye.

"Don't make me stroke your ego in front of the kids," Warren joked. "You know how I feel about what you can do with that brain of yours."

Thrive frowned. "In the albeit short time it takes to put our vessel together, the Emmuli could reform in this plane and strike. We would be as defenseless as we could possibly get—a hair shy of being incompetent."

"An effort at all is better than nothing," Gouna said. "We can only do the best we can with the best we have."

Thrive met Warren's expectant gaze for a few beats, the gears spinning behind his eyes. With a resigned sigh, he flashed his cape behind him and strode dramatically toward the capital house.

height (Destiny)—

"I don't want to have to tell you again," Sussa told him. "You need to go natural so you can recuperate and recharge. Do everyone on this vessel a favor, please." She patted Thrive on the leg and motioned for Warren to follow her out of the room.

"Need me to hang around?" he asked Thrive.

He shook his head, fist still clutching the table with his full strength.

Warren backed out of the room and Thrive shifted into his natural form, the amber glow of the transformation illuminating the space as his height and shape changed before his eyes. The door slid shut in his face before he could get a look in decent lighting.

hinder prevent (Aurora)—

He heard Thrive inhale, saw him turn his head away from him. But he didn't say anything for a while.

Warren allowed it. Contemplative Thrive was better than Hard-Headed Thrive in this particular case, though it did tug at him a little that he had to think so much about it.

"The thought of losing you," Thrive murmured, "for any reason at all, let alone a reason I could've prevented, is…." He almost couldn't finish the thought for fear of meeting Warren's current level of emotion. "I've endured the Emmuli showing me your death. Over and over. I've seen you drowned in a frozen lake. I've seen you torn apart at the claws of the frost dragon. I've watched, helpless, as you were destroyed by my own hands. I can't…."

He lowered his face and Warren pretended to miss the brief waver of his voice.

# tag game# these were really tough to find for some reason????# my vocabulary is not as good as I'd once thought apparently lol

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My clone OCs

info under readmore (and some bonus art)

Ghost was taken out of training early by Sol. he was going to fail out of his training course, but Sol miraculously met him and noticed that he was sensitive to other's emotions and intentions, in the way that only force sensitive people are. she volunteers to train him personally and saving him from a being a maintenance clone. he got his name because whenever he got overwhelmed in battle, he disappeared; something he honed into a skill to become one of the best stealth operative,

Angel started out as a medic, he wasn't necessarily supposed to become a clone captain, but his loyalty, bravery and creative planning gets him promoted early in his career, and he becomes Sol's right hand man. he's a mix of responsible and careless; spending long shifts taking care of others, forgetting to care of himself, and blatantly disobeying Sol's direct orders when he thinks she's wrong (this is often, and she admires him for it), but also being strict with protocol and not taking shit from anyone (except sol). He and Sol are less like a general and a loyal captain and more like bickering best friends. he got his name after saving Sol's life, she called him her "guardian angel," and not only did the name Angel stick, but every clone in shadow Company jokingly calls him their "guardian Angel" instead of captain whenever he's not around

Wreath got his name after winning a laurel wreath crown in some competition while on leave. he takes his name pretty seriously, he takes pride in his skill as a hand-to-hand fighter. he'd always been one of the top troopers, he was the most skilled cadet and has lots of accolades from his time as a trooper. cause of this he's cocky, a bit of an ass, but he makes up for it by being the funniest person Shadow company had ever met.

Deadshot is a sniper and he was in republic prison for a year, and no one knows why. he's quiet and contemplative, mysterious, and kind of creepy if you don't know him. Sol recruited him out of jail because she was curious about what a clone trooper had to do to actually get thrown in prison. he will never tell her what he did.

Sol is the closest with these four clones, they are the elite force in her company, often personally working with her in her covert missions. other clones in shadow company know that they are the general's favourites even if she maintains close friendships with her company.

so yeah these are my clone OCs

bonus: some nose art for shadow company's gunships

"The solar system"

"Be nice to our guardian angel"

# clone wars oc# clone trooper oc# tcw# tcw oc# star wars the clone wars# star wars oc# my ocs# digital art# artists on tumblr# my art# also lemme not lie# i took obvious short cuts drawing the clones# cause drawing temuera morrison is hard# and i'm just trying to show y'all my ocs# fancy high effort art will come....another day

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What if,,,Wolffe came across one of the gun ships,,,and saw a slightly revealing pinup of the officer dress in Wolfpack armor

oh. OH.

playtime is over.

... after he cleans up his bloody nose.

Commander Wolffe feels his blood boil at the sight - you weren't some pinup girl, you were an officer! Regardless of the fact that the artist manages to capture your playful demeanor, you're worth too much to be wearing armor inappropriately. Wolffe stares at your face because if he looked elsewhere? Well..

The commander has to hope that the image hasn't been sent out over the net because if you learn about this —

"Is... that supposed to be me?" You blink, gesturing to the art. You choke back a laugh as you look over at the very angry looking commander.

"It appears so," Wolffe manages through gritted teeth, almost snarling.

"I didn't think I could pull off armor like that," you shrug, a hand at your chin. "Maybe I should ask General Plo for some to match."

Wolffe's good eye twitches and you nudge him playfully.

"I don't think you need armor, Officer," he replies, unable to make eye contact with you. He's still staring at the pinup art, and wondering how the Kriff you got into the hangar when the rest of the pack files in noisily behind him.

Boost lets out a low whistle as he claps the commander on the back. "I didn't think it'd actually get done this fast!" The redhead laughs, winking at you. "Figured we could take our Officer next time we have to go to the front lines, since she can't be there with us."

"You did this?" Wolffe growls, murder apparent in his gaze as he turns to the clone trooper.

"Uh, yeah?" He shrugs, gesturing to the image. "Who wouldn't want their wife painted on the side of a gunship?"

Wolffe opens his mouth, and then closes it - and then repeats the motion.

He couldn't murder Boost while you're standing right next to him, smiling in the awful glow of the hangar.

But later? When no one was watching and you're fast asleep?

Commander Wolffe feels a vein in his forehead throb as the rest of the Wolfpack fawns over the art.

# commander wolffe x reader# commander wolffe# clone trooper boost# wolffe x reader# translation error# cybernya writes# HEHEHEHEHEH

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Destiny 2 Red Legion Black Oil Draw Out Gunships

Source: https://www.tumgir.com/tag/gunship%20nose%20art

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