#thornfox
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Were none of you gonna warn me on the fact that Fox and Thorn’s paint jobs are just opposites of each other. When one’s drenched with red, the other leaves it white. When blank plastoid is exposed, the other will cover it with red. They're half of each other's souls, Scoob.
#HE IS HALF OF MY SOUL AS THE POETS SAY#i could recognise him by touch alone by smell#i would know him blind by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth#i am on the fucking floor#commander thorn#commander fox#foxthorn#thornfox#coruscant guard#corrie guard#cloneshipping#clone ship#the clone wars#star wars#star wars the clone wars#swtcw#marsdraws#marsrb
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For those angst prompts, "Don't ever utter those words again, I'm begging you." for either Fox/Thorn or Fives/Deadshot. Whichever tickles your fancy :D (@/nooneherebutusghosts).
Thank you for the ask, @nooneherebutusghosts! While I usually don't pass a chance to create something with my babygirl, the promtp begged for FoxThorn so I went with them. I hope you like the little illustration and the accompanying fic I've come up with! Enjoy~
Relationship: ThornFox
Rating: Gen
Warning: Safe for read but tell me if something needs to be tagged. No beta.
Word count: 982
Summary: Thorn was injured in one of his mission on Coruscant and Fox feels guilty about it.
The thoughts always lingered in one of the deepest, hated side of Fox’s mind. That all it was a bad idea, wrong, wrong to the core. After so much shit going on, everything felt like a responsibility, even the small beautiful things he managed to grab a hold on and oh he clung on that sweetest forbidden fruit like his life depended on it, but the thing is with fruits that eventually they start to rot and inevitably die.
So how do you preserve a fruit, you put it in the conservator to keep it fresh a little longer, or dry the moisture out of it so it can be stored for years. Now Thorn wasn’t a fruit and Fox wasn’t a psycho either to put the ideas into practice. Still, the dilemma stood.
“Fox’ika” whispered Thorn with a faint smile, eyes half-closed. “You are going to implode with all that thoughts in your head.”
Fox, raised his head immediately, a mixture of concern and relief on his face, he didn’t even noticed how anxiously he was fidgeting with his thumbs in his lap. He sat near Thorn’s bed, waiting for him to wake up from his sedated, dreamless sleep.
“Sorry” said Fox apologetically. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“You didn’t. The trooper outside is quite eager with the searching lights.”
Fox looked outside the window and frowned as the harsh light sweeped through the grounds precariously. He was supposed to be proud of the shiny assigned to the guard tower, probably wanted to investigate every nook and cranny of the CG grounds, including the very walls of the ward, or maybe he was just simply liked to messing around with the lights like a little boy who finally got to play with grown ups’ toys.
“I tell him to knock it off.”
“Don’t” said Thorn seeing his riduur raised his vambrace, fingers itched to make a call. “Stay with me.”
Fox measured the priorities and decided it was with Thorn rather than taking his frustration out on that sod of a shiny, especially that Thorn slowly emerged from his bed, sat up with a painful groan and hands on his bandaged hip.
“You should rest!” said Fox, already on his feet to help his lover to lay back but Thorn reached out for his hand.
Their finger entwined in tenderness, intuitively and caring, skin to plastoid and fabric of the blacks. The searching light swept again the room, making rogue particles visible between them, and then disappearing again in the dark. They stood like this for a while, Thorn looking up with loving tiredness with the most softest smile he was able to manage despite the pain.
And something broke in Fox.
“I’m sorry” a sound escaped from Fox’s mouth little no louder than a quivering whine. Thorn could feel the trembling through the fingers. He looked at his face distorted by repressed guilt, he immediately know what was wrong.
“Fox’ika…”
“I’m sorry “ Fox repeated “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Com’ here, love” Thorn spread his other arm as an invitation “It’s okay.”
Fox took one big step, the gap closed between them and clung on Thorn while hands folded around his neck into a tight needy embrace. Sobbing burts out from somewhere the deepest hated depths of Fox’s heart.
“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have send you down there!” Fox gasped for air with hiccups. “I knew it was dangerous, possibly lethal and yet I sent you down there!”
“Fox, I knew the risks” Thorn replied calmly but the anxious rambing went on.
“And I knew it too! That’s why I sent you there, because you are a fucking competent soldier, my best, my second in command and now seeing you like this makes me want to hide you into a safe compartment or put you into the cryochamber and when everything is safe, I’ll unfreeze you and…”
“Fox you can’t just set me aside like a paperwork until the war is over” Thorn couldn’t help but chuckle. “Like you said, I’m your second in command. The flame that shines for you so you can work in the shadow. Remember?”
Fox couldn’t make himself remember and did not heard him.
“I can’t protect you, I can’t save you when I’m not with you, I can’t change the outcomes, you were there dying and I wasn’t with you, I was an irresponsible commander, Thorn, I don’t deserve you to be gentle with me after all this, I don’t deserve your smile, don’t deserve you!”
Thorn cupped Fox’s face into his palms to lock their gazes, and looked into those teary amber eyes full of despair.
“Are you saying this as my riduur or my superior?” asked in a serious tone even Fox stopped with the rambling. “I’m your second in command. A commander. A competent soldier, like you said. But now I messed up a mission, my men died, the men I chose, just as you chose me to lead this operation. I know you fear for me but when we were just colleagues, you never thought about a second to send me into my death because you trusted me to come back.”
“I know…”
“I’m not done.”
Fox whimpered.
“Fox… remember our vows. We share love as well as the burden that comes with our duty. Please… don’t let love blur your judgement of my capabilities. And do not neglect me when I need my riduur at my side. Right now.
Hot tears wetted Thorns calloused fingers as Fox slowly nodded. Thorn leaned in to give his lover a small kiss on the lips, light as a feather, making him whimper again. It made sure that no other thoughts remained in Fox’s mind.
Their silence was comfortable as Fox’s abrupt breathing started to calm down, Thorn whispered into his lips, almost pleadingly.
“Don’t ever utter those words again, I’m begging you.”
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I don't deserve you angsty prompt list can be found [here], send me a prompt with a ship and I draw you something!
#thornfox#cloneship#clonecest#cloneshipping#commander thorn#commander fox#coruscant guard#the clone wars#star wars
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a vast and private experience
Commander Fox/Commander Thorn
This is my gift work for @gobayern16 for the Star Wars Valentines Exchange! I hope you enjoy!!! And thank you so much @lilhawkeye3 for hosting @starwarsfandomfests !
(Ao3 Link)
Whenever the Chancellor visits somewhere, every instance of the trip is poured over in advance, every moment of the event planned down to the smallest detail. Keeping the Chancellor of the Republic safe is a security nightmare when he’s just on Coruscant, and it only gets worse the moment he goes off planet.
Thorn knows this. All the members of the Coruscant Guard do. While the Red Guard may be the main force in charge of the Chancellor’s security, ever since the Coruscant Guard’s creation, they’ve been just as involved, if not more. The Guard is in charge of the security for the Imperialis, as well as ensuring that the visit itself runs smoothly, and ensuring that happens is no small task. It’s why Thorn was sent to Thiurus over a month before the Chancellor’s scheduled visit, why Fox is here now.
After all, they have to control every aspect of the environment, know what to do if there’s a crisis, or a medical emergency. They need to know how the lighting works, how easily it can be shut down, how to get it back up. They need to know every entrance, every exit, every security flaw. They need to fix those flaws, they need to increase the security in general, they need to create backup plan after backup plan. They need to know a million other things, prepare for a million different situations.
That kind of preparation takes time. It takes coordination with local authorities-- coordination that can’t be done over holocall. It takes feet on the ground, and people who know what they’re doing.
And since the Chancellor likes to keep the Red Guard within spitting distance at all times, the CG gets to deal with those preparations instead.
(Really, Thorn doesn’t know how the Chancellor survived before the CG existed. The amount of threats he gets is off the charts. They can barely keep up, and they’re trained for perfection.)
It’s a one-night layover that has them both here- in a few hours, Thorn will be flying back to Coruscant to finalize the Diplomatic Escort Service’s plans regarding the Chancellor’s flights, while Fox will stay here, working with the local authorities to plan every minute of the Chancellor’s stay, from the moment the Imperialis enters Thiurus’ airspace, to the moment it’s back in hyperspace, headed back to Coruscant.
Logically, they both should be asleep. It’s 04:00, and they both have long weeks in front of them-- who knows when they’ll get an opportunity to sleep like this again? They ought to be in bed, ought to be catching up on all the sleep they’ve missed, or at least trying to do so.
Instead, they’re in the kitchen, and the light above the stove is on, providing a dim light for them to see by. They’re in the kitchen, and Thorn is trying to remember what he read on the holonet the other day about making scrambled eggs.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Fox asks dubiously, arms crossed. He’s leaning against one side of the archway that leads into the kitchen, head tilted so that it rests against the chipped wood. He looks tired.
But they’re all tired, these days. That’s simply a fact of life.
“Of course,” Thorn lies, waving a hand dismissively. He pauses. “Mind if I say something mean?”
Fox snorts. “Go for it.”
“Just because you have to sleep with a textbook to learn anything doesn’t mean we all have to.”
“Oh, kark you.”
“Maybe later, I’m making eggs right now.”
The apartment they’re staying in is very distinctly natborn , from the frankly absurd amount of blankets in the closet, to the simple existence cramped kitchen they’re both wedged in right now. Really, for Thorn, the whole trip has been one oddity after another-- since they’re supposed to remain low-profile, he hasn’t been wearing his armor, and combining that with his hair and the masks that are custom on Thiurus, he’s been assumed, again and again, to be a natborn. It’s a perk of Thiurus’ culture, and the large number of humans living there-- clones just aren’t recognizable.
But, to be fair, it’s not like anyone would actually believe there was a clone on their planet either. Not until the Chancellor literally arrived with the Coruscant Guard in full armor. Apparently, there was a general understanding throughout the galaxy that unless you either lived on Coruscant, or your planet literally got invaded, you’d never see a clone. So seeing a human that looked like a clone didn’t mean much, because there was no way they were actually a clone.
At least, that’s how Senator Amidala had explained it when Thorn escorted her to Naboo. She’d had a meeting with a friend in a cafe, and Thorn had told her that-- You need a Guard that isn’t her handmaidens, Senator, I understand that they know what they’re doing, but the Chancellor has entrusted me personally with your safety, and I cannot take any chances -- an explanation that had her pursing her lips, then barging into her parents’ room, rifling through their closet, and pulling out two outfits. She’d thrown said outfits at Thorn and Rys, pointed them towards two freshers, and instructed them to yell if they needed any help.
It was not the weirdest experience Thorn had had while escorting a senator, but it was certainly up there.
“Eggs,” Thorn instructs, digging through the cabinets, and he hears a grumble, but surely enough, as soon as he straightens up with the pan, the egg carton is sitting on the counter. “Thank you, babe.”
Fox rolls his eyes, and hops back onto the counter across the stove, leaning back to rest his head on the cabinets. “If you start a fire, I’m going to kill you.”
“Kark off, I can cook,” Thorn shoots back, setting the pan down on the stove. “Wanna grab me the butter?”
“Not really, no.”
Thorn turns his head to the side, meets Fox’s eyes. Opens his own wide, pleading. “Would you please grab me the butter, darling?”
Fox stares at him. Sighs. Hooks a foot around the fridge door, pulls it open, and reaches over to grab the butter, shutting the fridge door before holding the butter out to Thorn. “Flattery doesn’t suit you.”
Thorn takes the butter, then, impulsively, he presses a quick kiss to Fox’s knuckles. “And yet now I have butter,” he counters, and spins back around to face the stove before Fox can reply.
There’s a grumble from behind him that sounds suspiciously like his words said back to him in a mocking tone, but no actual response, and Thorn grins to himself. Kark yes. Thorn, 5, Fox, 4.
And okay, maybe he shouldn’t be keeping a mental record of all the times he’s left Fox speechless, but kriff it, he is. Considering how often Fox is able to get the last word, leaving him speechless is a Forcedamned accomplishment. Thorn may be better at it than most, but that’s not much.
“I can hear you being smug,” Fox says, moments later, voice petulant in a way he rarely lets himself be. Thorn barely chokes down a snicker.
“You can not .”
And Fox’s response to that sounds suspiciously like a word that turned into a muffled yawn halfway through. Thorn bites down on his tongue, forces himself not to mention it. There’s a part of his mind that urges him to point it out, to tell Fox to go to sleep, but-- he knows that Fox knows he needs sleep, knows an intervention won’t be welcome. Knows that the fact that Fox is awake, and not because he’s doing flimsiwork, means that for whatever reason, sleep isn’t an option right now. Knows that just telling him to go to bed won’t help, is much more likely just to prompt a sharp response.
After all, they both know that Fox isn’t the only one awake right now. And if Fox told him to go to bed, Thorn knows he’d react in a similar way. Knows that he’d regret his reaction once the sun came up, but have no time to apologize, because his flight would already be leaving.
Internally, Thorn takes a moment to briefly curse the nature of their jobs. This shouldn’t be an issue, because they’re both part of the Coruscant Guard, and distance is rarely an issue. This shouldn’t be an issue, because they should be able to apologize the next morning, even if it’s just over a holocall, yet they can’t do that. They can’t do that, so they can’t afford to let themselves actually verbally disagree with each other, because the Guard needs them to be a united front, and they have no way to easily make up.
It’s unfair, and Thorn is more than used to life being unfair, but--
Well, when Cody and Rex have issues, Cody goes to Fox to complain. He can go to Fox to complain, and he does, and Fox nods along with him, and eventually Cody gets it out of his system. Eventually, he and Rex get to actually talk about whatever went wrong, and they get to fix it, be stronger.
And it’s a small thing, maybe, but Force hells, Thorn envies that.
Because when Thorn thinks Fox is being di’kutla, he swallows it down, shuts up and deals with it on his own. And Thorn knows that when Fox thinks Thorn is being di’kutla, he does the same. There are too many cameras on Coruscant for them to do anything else, too many people watching for them to actually ever air their grievances with each other. Senators have no issues with exploiting any fractures in the Guard, so the only way to keep everyone safe is to make sure that there aren’t any fractures for them to find in the first place.
It’s not fair. But there’s nothing Thorn can do about that, so he sets it aside, goes back to the eggs. Ignores Fox’s yawn, pretends not to notice that his eyes are shut as he leans against the cabinet. Focuses instead on the small thrill that comes with the fact that Fox trusts him enough to relax in his presence, focuses instead on actually fulfilling his words and not burning the apartment down. Rolls his eyes when Fox opens his eyes just to needle him about what temperature he set the stove to, grins at the look on Fox’s face when he actually tries the finished eggs.
In a few hours, they’ll be planets apart again, both working to ensure the Chancellor’s safety. In a few hours, Thorn will be on a ship that's undoubtedly bugged, while Fox will be working with natborns who’d almost certainly sell a clone out in seconds. But they’re not there right now, so Thorn breathes, lets himself relax. Lets himself pretend that the world doesn’t exist outside of this room, this apartment, lets himself pretend that the only problem he has is the fact that for some Forcesaken reason, Fox actually likes pepper.
Theoretically, this is the life they could have someday. If Senator Amidala’s Clone Citizenship bills pass, if the war ends-- maybe they could have a life of this domesticity. Maybe they’d be able to actually be open with their relationship, be able to do all the things normal couples do without the fear of it being used against the Guard as a whole.
But until then, moments like this will have to be enough.
#commander fox#commander thorn#foxthorn#thornfox#tcw#my writing#star wars valentines exchange#star wars secret cupid#cloneshipping#gallorywrites
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Is it possible for some Fox/Dogma/Thorn with the prompt "Last?"
I've been hoping for some FoxmaThorn! Here you go anon! This one's a little long so I dropped a 'keep reading' so it doesn't take up your whole dash. (I hope it's okay that this is set in the wingfic AU):
Thorn hadn't expected Fox to take in an accused and acquitted criminal, someone who'd betrayed his brothers and only turned back at the last possible second. He sighs, rustles his wings, and raps his knuckles sharply on the open doorway. "I wouldn't have thought you two would be the ones to sleep in against regulation," He teases, testing the waters.
Dogma twitches in Fox's arms, and the Commander reacts by bringing his wings close around the other trooper and grumbling, "You could join us instead." Dogma freezes, blinking in shock that two of the Commanders of the guard might be remotely interested in him in spite of his flightless dark wings.
Hesitating, Thorn ruffles his own feathers, "Is that alright, Dogma?" He doesn't want to push the trooper beyond his comfort level in this. Most of the guard knows by now that Fox has taken on a prospective mate, though that's the extent of most of the rumors.
All it takes is a soft hum of assent, and Thorn slides immediately into the nest on Dogma's other side, also wrapping his wings around them. After a muted series of taps to his comm, he confirms Dogma's suspicions. "I just submitted a report that Commander Fox," he pauses in exasperated affection to glance at the other Commander, "needs a sick day. Stars know he doesn't take care of himself."
Thorn nestles closer to Dogma. "Alright,?" He asks, only continuing when he receives a small noise of approval, "From what I've seen, you're good for him. He used to not care about his own health at all- beyond keeping himself at the minimum standard for Command."
Not knowing what to say, Dogma presses appreciatively back into him, and Thorn wraps one wing over them both, so they can all fall back asleep.
#clonecest#fox x dogma#fox x thorn#fox x dogma x thorn#dogma x thorn#wingfic#blaze writes#foxmathorn#foxma#thornfox#thornfoxma#clone cuddle piles
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Inktober Day 9: When you have wings but your friend doesn’t.
Also titled “When you eat too many berries and feel kinda bad about it”
Red and Thorn designed by @panoramicpancake ! She designed the little prickly skull fox for me and I love her so much ;; u;; I love doodling these two on adventures!
#inktober#inktober2018#noodledragon#thornfox#inktoberday9#inktober2018day9#inktoberdaynine#inktober2018daynine#ococtober#ococtober2018#shaihimeart
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Alexander Warrior
Gato Oriental
ThornFox
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Fox, not having a thing for Thorn and his stupid, gorgeous hair: I do not have a thing for Thorn and his stupid, gorgeous hair
#was in the mood for some foxthorn#i wanted to do more but it’s 1.15am i gotta sleep#foxthorn#thornfox#commander fox#commander thorn#coruscant guard#corrie guard#cloneshipping#clone ship#the clone wars#swtcw#tcw#tcw art#star wars#marsdraws#marsrb
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Thorn dying on screen is a knife in the gut actually. What do you mean he was shot to death, he’s fine, he’s with Fox, happy and alive.
#[muffled screaming]#rewatching tcw is probably a mistake#thornfox#commander thorn#commander fox#the clone wars#star wars#cloneshipping#clone ship#foxthorn
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My Worst
Summary:
“How long?” Fox doesn’t pick up his head. He’s afraid he’ll throw up if he does, especially when something slimy rolls in his throat, his body still desperately trying to grab all the air there is to breathe. “How long was I out?”
the clone wars. fox/thorn. post s5E20: the wrong jedi. tw: panic attack. rated T. 1.6k+ words.
Notes: Based on 50 A Softer World Prompts.
Happy May the 4th, everyone!
At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better. At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.)
It happened again.
“Breathe with me, Fox,” Thorn murmurs, and the weight of his arm is comforting as much as it’s suffocating, a scorching brand running across his spine, familiar and heavy and pressing into the smallest particles of his lungs—
Fox gasps, head between his knees.
His helmet is on his bunk, clumsily set aside and on the verge of falling if someone walks past it, their cuisse hooked onto the filters, or if their kama somehow snags onto a crooked end.
Fox doesn’t remember taking it off.
He doesn’t remember coming back to the barracks. He doesn’t remember how he got where he is, crumpled on the cold floor, the chill sinking fast and sitting in the hollow tunnels of his bones, and he feels like he’s falling, and falling—
Thorn clasps a hand around his. He knows what to do, knows what Fox needs best, knows when a mere touch is better than being enveloped into a hug. His back feels lighter now, and Fox can feel himself breathe.
“It’s alright,” Thorn is a presence Fox has memorised; he doesn’t need to look him in the eye to know that Thorn can bury his worry as well as Fox does, or how the calm he puts out in its stead isn’t exactly truthful. The mask they wear for the public can be useful here, too. “It’s alright. You’re with me now.”
READ MORE ON AO3
#the gentle moon series#thornfox#fox/thorn#thorn/fox#commander fox#commander thorn#cloneshipping#the clone wars#marswrites#marsrb#tw panic attack#may the fourth be with you#foxthorn
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Happy birthday to the best girl @panoramicpancake!!!
Her noodle dragon character Red with the character she designed for me, Thorn! 🖤
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