#ordo skirata
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Why kitten shaped if not kitten.
#precious meowmeow#something is in making#wip#ordo skirata#cadet!ordo#republic commando#mamuzzy draws stuff
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*leaves this here before scurrying back to the sewers*
MY PRECIOUS CAKE-GREMLIN CAT MENACE BOIIIIIII I WANT TO TAKE HIM HOME AND FEED HIM UJCAKE ALL DAY AND CALLING HIM GOOD BOY!!!!!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆
THANK YOU THANK YOU COREY THIS IS SO CUTE AND AMAZING, YOU REALLY MADE MY DAY!!!!!!
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the nulls all have a special place in my heart <3
top to bottom, left to right:
A'den, Prudii, Kom'rk
Jaing, Ordo, Mereel
#repcomm#fanart#my art#ordo skirata#mereel skirata#jaing skirata#a'den skirata#prudii skirata#kom'rk skirata#yes i had to just make up armor colors for a'den prudii and kom'rk#also peep jaing's nice gray gloves :)
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Waterboarding
[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: Waterboarding
Kal dips a towel in the bucket and folds it in half. "What we are doing today is called waterboarding," he says, pretending like he's alone. It's a dummy on the table, not a real little boy. Not his little boy. "It feels just like drowning."
"Can it kill you?" Ordo asks.
"Yes, but it's hard to do accidentally." Kal picks up the filled pitcher. "I'd have to keep going after you went unconscious."
Ordo nods, filing the information away in that magnificent brain of his. "I'm ready whenever you are, Sir."
Kal wants to scream, punch someone, burn down the white, sterile hell they're trapped in until it's nothing but black ash, anything except what they came to do. Instead, he puts the towel over his son's face and starts to pour.
Characters: Null-11|Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata
Wordcount: 759
Kal hates the rain and the way it makes his shattered ankle ache, he hates the food, he hates the way he knows he's trapped on the dar'mandla planet, but what he hates most of all about Kamino is the fierfecking sterility of it all. White walls, white floors, white clothes on the longnecks with larval-white skin and white rings in their eyes, it all makes him dizzy. He's forgotten what mud smells like. Sometimes he breaks the inkballs at the practice range on purpose just to see some color on the walls.
At least they were smart enough not to dress little boys in white. Ordo's kaminii'a fatigues are red to differentiate him at a glance from the rank-and-file cadets in blue. In Kal's opinion, anyone with a set of eyes should be able to do that at a glance based on the defiance and mando'kar that sparkles in the eyes of his ad'ikase, but he isn't paid for his opinion. Those little red fatigues are thin, made from duraweave and were designed to not show dirt and dry quickly when wet.
"Do you know why I brought you here today, Ord'ika?" Kal asks his boy, squeezing his little hand twice.
Ordo squeezes back. "I assume it's enhanced interrogation resistance based on the last time we used this room," he replies casually.
"My clever boy." Ordo's five years old, looks ten, and speaks like he's twenty. Kal's heart breaks even more for what he has to do. "Yes, we're training for that today."
"And that's why we're alone." Ordo smiles at Kal's nod, happy to have gotten it right.
"Yes. This is best done solus bal'solus."
"One and one?"
"Yes, one and one. Means just the two of us Mandos." Kal smiles and keys the door. It's a small white room without a defined purpose—a rare thing for Kamino, where everything has a purpose—set up today with only a metal table, a pile of white towels, a white sanitation bucket, and a white pitcher. Even the water comes out white when he turns the tap on.
"Chilly in here." Ordo hops up onto the metal table and sits with his hands in his lap like he's at the doctor, though a normal kid would kick their legs back and forth instead of sitting deadly still like a snake in the corn.
"That's on purpose. Water evaporates off your skin and takes your warmth with it. That's why we sweat." Kal turns the tap off and takes a long breath to steady himself. "I'm going to have to hurt you today, son. You know I hate to do it, but you've got to learn."
Ordo's eyes are wide and dark in his little copper face. He nods, solemn like always. "I know, Sir."
Kal presses their foreheads together in a brief kov'nyn then draws back, distancing himself emotionally as well as physically from his son. "Take your shirt off and lay down with your head at the edge of the table."
Ordo, good lad that he is, folds his shirt before he obeys precisely. He keeps his arms straight down at his sides, standing at attention even while laying down.
Kal dips a towel in the bucket and folds it in half. "What we are doing today is called waterboarding," he says, pretending like he's alone. It's a dummy on the table, not a real little boy. Not his little boy. "It feels just like drowning."
"Can it kill you?" Ordo asks.
"Yes, but it's hard to do accidentally." Kal picks up the filled pitcher. "I'd have to keep going after you went unconscious."
Ordo nods, filing the information away in that magnificent brain of his. "I'm ready whenever you are, Sir."
Kal wants to scream, punch someone, burn down the white, sterile hell they're trapped in until it's nothing but black ash, anything except what they came to do. Instead, he puts the towel over his son's face and starts to pour. He watches Ordo stay still at first, then start to struggle once he runs out of air. Kal holds his boy down with a firm hand on his chest. "Thirty seconds, trooper, that's an order," he barks sharply. "Put all of your fear and pain into a box like I taught you. It's not happening to you. It doesn't even exist. Endure this."
As Kal watches Ordo fight his own instinct to survive, he can't help but wonder if the children he sired with Illipi didn't have the right idea about declaring him dar'buir after all.
Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo
Divider: @saradika-graphics
#ordo skirata#kal skirata#repcomm#febuwhump#febuwhumpday25#waterboarding#my writing#clone troopers#nulls
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Ordo: “Nobody wants to admit they ate 9 cans of ravioli but I did and I’m ashamed of myself but the first one doesn’t count then you get to the second and third and fourth, the fifth I just burned through like a blowtorch and then I just kept eating.”
#ordo skirata#null-11#incorrect clone wars quotes#incorrect star wars quotes#my post#tcw#the clone wars#Star Wars#clone trooper#star wars legends#source: trailer park boys#the clones#rep com#republic commando#true colors#triple zero#close contact
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Ordo's brothers love him. (Or do they...?)
We have in order L to R: Mereel, Prudii, Jaing, Kom'rk, and A'den.
Reference photo below the cut!
From the Rob Cantor clone photoshoot
#possum draws#null arcs#republic commando#mereel skirata#ordo skirata#jaing skirata#prudii skirata#a'den skirata#kom'rk skirata#i have repcomm brainrot
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The Ori’vod
Tal’karir didn’t have any siblings before her Godfather took her to Kamino, but that spot was quickly filled in by six Nulls. Especially one Ordo Skirata who holds a special bond with Tal.
He calls her verd’ika
Little warrior
#star wars#the clone wars#clone troopers#ordo skirata#kal skirata#null arcs#felixoc#oc#mandalorian oc#mando oc#godfather kal skirata#tal’karir#young tal’karir#big bro ordo#orphaned tal
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Learning to Trust
Ordo Skirata x reader, mention of Mereel and Kal Skirata
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: swearing, mention of war, mostly just fluff
A/N: I got punched in the face with this idea and amazed myself with how fast I wrote it lmao hope you enjoy! ❤️
jagyc’kovid: dickhead
shabuir: motherfucker
It was peaceful. The gentle undercurrent of the water rocked the Aay’han, reminding you of a mother rocking her newborn. The co-pilot seat wasn’t the most comfortable but if you sat at an angle, your feet resting on the control panel, you could let your muscles relax enough that you could possibly nap. Your eyes followed the bright, glimmering aquatic life that swam past, watching them shimmer in the sunlight that streamed through the water. The Aay’han was floating off the coast of the capital city, waiting for Sergeant Skirata and Mereel to com for a pickup.
You had been undercover for the Republic for…a long time, gathering intel about the manufacturing of Separatist droids. Life had been fairly normal, well as normal as it could be for a Republic spy until a certain Mandalorian and his small squad of clones came crashing through your front door. Literally. You glanced at the pilot’s chair, the corner of your lips lifting.
Ordo was stretched out in the chair beside you, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded over his chest, his head tipped forward until his chin nearly touched his chest. His empty Mandalorian helmet sat on the floor beside his chair and every once in a while, you could hear faint, staticky voices floating from inside. The muted shimmer of the water threw a faint glow over his face; Ordo looked peaceful, his usually tense expression slack, his eyes closed.
He was sleeping. You muffled a chuckle against the back of your hand, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The co-pilot chair groaned as you stood and you paused, half-standing, to dart your eyes back towards Ordo. He huffed heavily through his nose but otherwise didn’t move.
It took a few minutes of rustling through cabinets as quietly as possible, having to stop a few times when you made too much noise before you finally found a blanket. It smelled a bit musty but it would do. You unfolded it on your back to the cockpit, smirking at Ordo’s sleeping form before you carefully draped the blanket over him. He shifted lazily, his brow wrinkling for a moment and you stood a little straighter and held your breath. Ordo’s lashes fluttered, his dark glassy eyes taking a moment to focus but they quickly lifted to where you stood over him.
“Sorry to wake you,” you murmured with an apologetic smile.
“Wasn’t sleepin’,” Ordo grumbled, dragging himself into a sitting position. The furrow between his brows deepened as he looked down at the blanket pooling in his lap. There was an odd look on his face, one you had seen occasionally in the time you’d spent with him. The innocent, almost confused expression always made your heart ache and it was even worse when he tilted his head back to look up at you.
“I thought you’d be more uncomfortable,” you explained, gesturing to the blanket as you leaned against the back of his chair. Ordo nodded slowly, absently rubbing the fabric between his gloved fingers. “You can try and go back to sleep if you’d like.”
Ordo somehow looked more tense than usual for a moment, before dropping his eyes to the blanket again. “Alright.” For some reason, it surprised you; accidentally falling asleep was one thing but this showed that he trusted you enough to willingly let himself rest.
“Hm, you must really trust me,” you teased. Ordo turned in his chair again and you were suddenly aware of how close he was, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles on his cheeks. Ordo was always intense but the way he looked at you, bright brown eyes smoldering, made your stomach somersault.
“I do.” He spoke softly like it was a secret but there was no uncertainty in his voice. Your breath caught when he smiled, crooked and boyish, disarmingly charming without even trying. Sometimes you wondered if he was aware of it but based on some of the more…awkward encounters you’d had with him, you were pretty sure it was natural.
“Thank you,” you whispered, meaning it wholeheartedly. Ordo’s smile started to fade but you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down to your mouth, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he forced his gaze elsewhere. He cleared his throat quietly and when his eyes found yours again you caught the muted anxiety that flashed across his face.
You had no idea where the confidence came from that had you leaning down, bringing your face even closer to his. Ordo tensed but didn’t pull away, letting the strained silence linger. A shiver zipped up your spine when he tilted his head slowly, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. He paused, leaving almost no space between you and him and you could feel his slow, rhythmic breathing against your chin.
“Can I?” he asked softly.
“Please.”
A soft gasp filled the air when he closed the space and you weren’t sure if you made the sound or if he had. The kiss was hesitant, neither of you moving for a moment until one of his large hands closed around your bicep and you melted against him, sighing through your nose. It was clear Ordo didn’t have much experience but he didn’t seem to mind following your lead. He inhaled sharply when your tongue swept over his bottom lip but he quickly caught on, parting his lips.
The low groan from deep in his chest made you shiver, a hand coming to cup the back of his head, your fingers threading through his soft curls.
“Ord’ika? You read me?” You and Ordo jumped so hard at the familiar voice that your heads knocked together, each of you quickly reaching up to rub the now-aching spot. Ordo growled through clenched teeth, twisting around to punch a button on the control panel; despite the pain blooming across your forehead, you barely stifled a laugh.
“What?” he snapped, glaring at the blue hologram that popped up. Mereel tilted his head, arching a brow but there was the hint of a smirk on his face.
“What’d you do to your head?”
“None of your business, jagyc’kovid. What d’ya want?”
“Pickup would be nice,” Mereel sighed with a shrug. He glanced over his shoulder with a badly hidden smirk and winked at who you assumed was Kal.
“Send coordinates,” Ordo grumbled, ending the call without letting Mereel respond. “Shabuir.”
You giggled, biting your lip when Ordo threw a narrow-eyed look in your direction. “Come on, let’s go get them.”
“Should leave 'em,” Ordo huffed, rubbing his forehead one last time before dropping his hands to the panel again and starting the flight sequence. The smile that spread across your face was fonder than you thought possible and you leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss on his cheek. You settled into the co-pilot chair, glancing over at him again with a smirk.
Ordo refused to look at you but there was no denying that his cheeks were a little redder than before.
Ragu list:
@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @dystopicjumpsuit @secondaryrealm @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino
#CFB 2023#ordo skirata x reader#ordo skirata#republic commando#null-11#star wars#the clone wars#ordo skirata fic
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Eeeeyyyyy, who started an NSFW collection on AO3!!!!
Starting right away with my OTP <3
Ship: OrdoMaze
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Rimming, rimming from behind, oral sex, gay sex, cloneshipping, digital art
Make sure you are logged in!
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ITHILLIA MADE ME A CUSTOM ORDO FIGURE AND A BOX!!!!!! I'M SO IN LOVE THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH, LOVE!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!
Bonus:
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You Weren't Supposed To Be There
[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: "You weren't supposed to be there"
Ordo blinked a few times, confused. "I had orders to get information that he had," he said. He had a pinched look on his face. He knew that he'd done something wrong, he just didn't know what.
"I figured that." Besany hid her shaking hands in her lap.
"It's not as though I enjoy it," Ordo said. He'd noticed she'd put her hands somewhere that he couldn't touch them. She could tell by the way the divot between his brows had tightened that he didn't like it. "It… it was part of the mission. I thought your apartment would be a safe place to take him. I'm sorry you had to see that."
Characters: Besany Wessen/Null-11|Ordo Skirata
Wordcount: 819
The Kragget was never truly empty, but it was the least busy in the liminal hour of Coruscant's dawn, that fuzzy space when the drunks staggered home from the bars and the honest working-class folks began their trek to work. The server droid whirred around the restaurant with a subsonic whine, slinging caf and nuna eggs to the sleepy patrons and not bothering them with attempts at conversation. A soft, feminine voice came out of a speaker overhead, reading the news in both Rodian and Basic.
Besany and Ordo had taken the corner booth for privacy. They both sat in stony silence with two cups of caf that had long gone cold, neither really sure of what to say. "You weren't supposed to be there," Ordo finally piped up.
"In my own apartment?" Besany asked bitterly.
"No." Ordo looked unhappy, though it was hard to tell with him sometimes. "You said that you were going to be in the southern hemisphere for seventy-two hours at another Treasury branch. I wouldn't have taken him there if I knew you would be there."
Besany covered her face and fought the urge to scream.
"I already had a crime scene droid on standby, it would have been cleaned up and put back to normal by the time you—"
"What is it that you think I'm upset over?" Besany cut him off.
Ordo, his back to the far corner, glanced around the restaurant before answering. "That I was interrogating someone in your apartment?" he asked hesitantly.
"Interrogating." Besany choked out the word and stopped herself before she said something stupid in front of witnesses. What Ordo had been doing to that man in her karking bedroom was torture. She'd walked into a scene out of some sort of horror holovid; Ordo had tied a Twi'lek man to a chair and arranged a kriffing kit—the likes of which she would only expect some sort of sadistic serial killer to carry—across her bed.
There had been so much blood that for a solid three seconds she hadn't realized that the man was teal-skinned and not red.
"I," Besany began carefully, "am upset that you were…" she swallowed hard, willing herself not to vomit as the memory of the Twi'lek's brutal screams reared up again, "that you were interrogating anyone in that way at all."
Ordo blinked a few times, confused. "I had orders to get information that he had," he said. He had a pinched look on his face. He knew that he'd done something wrong, he just didn't know what.
"I figured that." Besany hid her shaking hands in her lap.
"It's not as though I enjoy it," Ordo said. He'd noticed she'd put her hands somewhere that he couldn't touch them. She could tell by the way the divot between his brows had tightened that he didn't like it. "It… it was part of the mission. I thought your apartment would be a safe place to take him. I'm sorry you had to see that."
Besany nodded and closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't even picture his sweet, handsome, earnest face in her mind's eye without also seeing the man that he'd flayed alive. "I have to go," she whispered, and slid out of the booth. "I'm sorry, Ordo. I like you. I really, really like you but... I can't do this anymore."
"Do what?" Ordo's voice pitched up in surprise; for a moment, he sounded like the teenager he technically was. His eyes were wide and distressed, his mouth was tight. He looked scared.
Besany had never seen him scared before.
"Our relationship." She steeled her shoulders and swallowed down a sob. She had to be blunt, or he wouldn't get it. "I understand that it's your job to do horrible things sometimes. I understand that you do those things to keep us safe and that I would never, ever be able to do them in a million years. But what I just saw, in my bedroom of all places—" a cracked sob slipped out, choking her. "I'm sorry. Please don't contact me again."
She threw credits down to cover the caf—too aware of the painful knowledge that he had never earned a credit in his life for all of the horrible things that he had done for the Republic—and fled out into the cold night air before she started crying outright, trying to forget the agonized screams of the man her lover had torn the skin off of. She finally let herself break down once she boarded a speederbus and tucked herself in the furthest rear corner, insane laughter coloring her tears after she spotted the ad on the seat in front of her for Thereafter LLC, a self-described Compassionate! Discrete! Affordable! crime-scene and biohazard cleaning company.
She copied down the frequency and wondered if Kal Skirata would kill her if she sent him the bill.
Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo
Divider: @saradika-graphics
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I haven’t drawn Fi and Ordo for a long time, trying to focus my attention on my rare pair now 👉😤👈
Full version here
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is it bad that i wanna see Ordo in number 58? hehe
Ordo can count the number of times he's cried on one hand. In fact, he probably doesn't need all of his fingers on that hand to count them.
I had to dig deep to figure out what would make him cry, since he's got a pretty good handle on his emotions (not necessarily in a good way, but he's able to compartmentalize so he can work). He'd probably cry when Kal'buir inevitably marches on, and he might cry happy tears if/when his Riduur gives birth to their child.
I'm sure the first time he got hurt badly, tears sprung to his eyes unbidden too. It's only natural!
Anyway, here's Ordo crying (you monster /jk)! This was hard to draw!
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