#quinlanfox

[kbirbpods]

[Podfic Link] | Length: 1 minute, 49 seconds

Original Work: Once More for Emphasis by @lbibliophile

Clone Wars: kbirb as Fox & Yuurei as Quinlan | Rating: G

Summary: 

“I didn’t say we should kill him.” “No, you really did. Now let’s go.”

Notes: Created for the "TEA FOR TWO" challenge for VTMB 2025!

[ao3feed-quinfox]

QuinFox Ao3 Feed

Hi all! This blog is an automated RSS feed that goes mostly unmonitored. It will automatically post every fic that is added to the CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos tag on Ao3.

If you don't want to see this blog in the tags, go ahead and block it 👍 No hard feelings on my end! Future posts will be tagged #quinfox, #ao3feed, #star wars, and #fanfiction.

Happy reading!

((Apologies to anyone who saw some posts appear and vanish from the tags, I had to do some troubleshooting to get this working.))

[cabezadeperro]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody/Quinlan Vos, CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos Characters: Quinlan Vos, CC-2224 | Cody, CC-1010 | Fox Additional Tags: Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Imperial Era, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Pre-Relationship, Past Relationship(s) Summary: Cody defects from the Empire on a Taungsday. Vos finds him two days later.

And he thinks about Fox.

He wants to believe he got out. Cody wants to believe he’s out there somewhere in the wider galaxy. He finds he misses him. He hasn’t actually thought about him in months, maybe in years, but now he can’t stop, and Cody finds he misses Fox, or the person he used to be. Cody tugs the blankets higher, curls against the wall, and he thinks of Kamino and sharing bunks and fighting and fucking and he thinks about following Fox into this small, nondescript apartment in a run down district so deep under Coruscant’s surface and being an absolute dickhead about it, about the whole thing.

He can’t even remember why, he just knows that he was tired and he was angry and that Fox was there, and that Cody never actually apologised. And then Cody went away, back to the front, and next leave Fox was too busy to meet, and then Cody got hurt and spent the following leave in a bacta tank and never actually got to spend any time on world, and then, and then, and then.

[notquiteaghost]

oh shit it’s ‘falling is like this’ part three. this series is officially just about people getting engaged now. 3.5k, fox/quinlan vos centric, background cody/fox & cody/obi-wan, rated E, on AO3 here, snippet:

"Just a fling, huh?" Thorn asks, from where he's leant up against the wall, arms crossed, looking at Fox far too knowingly. "Just because it's convenient?"

"I will stab you," Fox says. Thorn just laughs.

"Save it for Vos, vod, you know I'm not into that."

Fox bares his teeth.

His comm pings, for the fourth time in the past five minutes. It's still not anyone he actually cares to talk to, so he continues to ignore it. It's 2347, for Sith's sake. He is not on duty.

"He's already on planet, right?" Thorn asks. "Bet you he just got caught up at the Temple. Windu's here, and Muln."

Fox wants to snap he doesn't need reassuring, but Thorn would only take it as proof he very much needs reassuring. And he can feel the steady ticking of the chrono in his chest.

They didn't actually agree on a time. They never do – Vos knows his shift patterns; Fox knows if he has an assignment, how long it takes him to get to the Guard from the Temple. Vos didn't say he'd come by tonight. It's been sixteen days, since he left, and neither of them are comfortable risking comm transmissions when he's working, and he does, more often than not, spend his first nights back in Fox's bed.

Maybe he realised that. The significance of how much time he's been spending with Fox. Maybe he's decided it's gone far enough.

Fox always wants to send him away. It's fucking stupid, what they're doing. He can nearly hear the lecture Jango would give every time he doesn't kick Vos out, every time he lets Vos curl close. But then Quinlan will make a content noise, or actually relax, or smile just at the corner of his eyes, and Fox's resolve will crumble to nothing.

[coruscantguard]

so, sometimes your name is gallory, and sometimes you have thoughts about how in legends canon quinlan had his memories wiped on palpatine’s orders. and then sometimes you have thoughts about how palpatine was almost definitely fucking with the coruscant guards’ memories throughout the war. and by you, i mean me. now, these kinds of parallels are my goddamn bread and butter y’all, they’re my cup of tea and the apple of my eye, so buckle up kids, it’s talking about vox time here on coruscantguard.

now, firstly, let’s just start with this: quinlan would notice the little redirects fox was pulling to hide the fact that he was missing time, because they were the exact same things that he’d said after losing his memories, the exact same things he’d said when the topic of conversation was something he should remember, but didn’t. he’d said them to mace, to tholme, to aayla, to obi-wan, to luminara, and to countless other jedi, countless other civilians. listen, these were the exact same things that quinlan had said himself whenever he was confronted with memories he never got back, okay, there’s no way he’s not going to notice it.

like recognizes like, and all that. trauma recognizes trauma. victims of memory wipes done by sheev brian palpatine recognize other victims of memory wipes done by sheev brian palpatine.

so, secondly, we now know this: fox is going to notice too.

it happens less often with quinlan, yes, as that memory wipe happened ten-ish years ago, but it still happens. quinlan didn’t get all of his memories back, so even though it’s a more rare occurrence now, he still occasionally finds himself pulling out those old evasive maneuvers when he’s confronted with something he doesn’t remember happening. and fox... well, there’s no way fox isn’t going to notice that. the man works in the senate! hell, he probably has to testify as an expert witness all the goddamn time! he’s going to notice if the jedi he’s with suddenly gets cagey.

it’s kind of unnerving, at first, for both of them. actually, scratch that, it’s extremely unnerving. to randomly, completely out of the the blue, just see this reaction to trauma be mirrored in another being? that’s just kind of unsettling. to realize that this person knows the ins and outs of all these vulnerabilities you have? that’s kind of terrifying. the only thing that makes it a bit less terrifying is the fact that it’s a two way street-- they both know more about each other than their comfortable with.

blah blah, to be known is to be loved, blah blah, no, we aren’t there yet, but yes, i am thinking about that too, and yes, that is absolutely one of the reasons i adore this pairing so much.

but actually, now that i’m really thinking about it, it’s very much a same hat kind of thing, you know? except instead of same hat, it’s same trauma, which is both a lot less funny, and a lot more funny. i mean, come on, what are the odds that fox manages to stumble upon one of the only jedi who has personal, hands on experience with losing memories? and what are the odds that quinlan manages to stumble upon one of the only clones that has that exact same experience? that’s a helluva coincidence, and it’s a beautiful one, with so much potential.

hmmmm. hmmmmmmmm. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

so many thoughts

[cabezadeperro]

Perhaps 31 for Fox and Quinlan?

hi anon! sorry, i couldn't think of something with that prompt, but i wrote number 13 instead (nudging the other one). i hope you like it anyway! 577w, kind of established relationship, quinlan pov, feat. bly

---

Aayla’s commander is a hard man to read.

He’s pleasant enough. Polite and competent and professional. Nicer than Commander Cody, quieter than Commander Ponds. Not as charismatic as Skywalker’s captain.

Quinlan used to think the man didn’t like him. There was something in the way Bly watched him, always keeping his distance, his brown eyes lacking the warmth he looked at Aayla with. He kept himself hidden behind heavy shields, mind locked tight and disciplined, and smiled at Quinlan without opening his mouth.

He finally understands that day in the Senate building, Quinlan wearing proper Jedi robes for the first time in weeks and Commander Bly wearing his dress greys. They cross paths in one of the many hallways and corridors that bore through the Senate’s lower floors: Quinlan’s leaving, and Bly just got there, and Commander Fox is waiting next to the lifts, arms crossed and bucket on, bored and tired and impatiently waiting for Quinlan to get on with it, reluctant fondness threaded all over his Force signature like aurodium thread through silk.

Bly smiles when he sees his brother: it changes his face. He grins, his serious eyes go small and warm, his careful distance disintegrating. He crosses the corridor in three quick steps to stop in front of Fox, and Fox takes off his bucket, smiling back, and for a few, rushed seconds they’re in a world of their own, heads bent together, foreheads brushing against each other.

Quinlan blinks, and it’s like he can see them as they must have been not so long ago—young and more innocent, in that hellish water world where they were made.  

The memory isn’t anyone’s, but Quinlan doesn’t doubt for a second that it is a true one—it’s just them, flashing bright in the Force, jumping through time and space to fuck with Quinlan’s synapses. He shakes himself, dizzy and annoyed, and when Bly steps away and turns to look at him, his face once again the mask Quinlan’s used to, he smiles as wide and fake as he can make it.

At his brother’s back, Fox rolls his eyes; Quinlan’s smile twitches and he has to work to keep it from turning sincere. Fondness blooms and catches, like fire or some kind of tick, and Quinlan thought he was too old for this, too old and too bitter, but apparently he was wrong. 

Commander Bly blinks, glances back at Fox, and Fox—freezes. He puts his bucket back on, but they all know it’s too late. Bly’s smile changes. He raps on his brother’s pauldron with the backs of his knuckles and starts making his way to an open door at the end of the corridor, glancing now and then back at Fox over his shoulder with bright eyes.

Quinlan sighs. He stops in front of Fox, and for a beat he just—looks at him. Faceless and featureless in his red and white plastoid shell, but so alive. 

“You’re late,” Fox says after a beat, vocoder crackling. Quinlan tugs on his elbow, just once, and Fox starts walking, steps quick. Quinlan falls into step at his side, their arms brushing.

“I know and I’m sorry,” he says, a rare show of honesty that catches them both by surprise.

Fox says nothing for a long beat, but Quinlan can feel him staring, even with his helmet facing forward. 

“You’ll make it up to me,” Fox finally says.

Yes. Quinlan thinks he will.

He finds he doesn’t mind.

[cabezadeperro]

oooo 5 for quinlan/fox?

WRITING CHALLENGE PROMPTS

Fox doesn’t like being in the Jedi Temple. It’s too clean, too empty. It’s huge: it was clearly designed with thousands of beings in mind, but every time Fox has to pay them a visit, his steps echo through never ending empty hallways that are full of golden light and dust motes and not much else. 

That’s a lie: he finds other clone troopers, sometimes, as out of place as Fox himself, or he crosses paths with bands of younglings, usually guided by knights too soft to be in the front lines or masters who have one step on the grave.

The kids always wave at him, their little faces innocent and perfectly ordinary, and Fox does his best to hide how uncomfortable he feels in the depths of his mind and answer their greetings with a nod, with a smile when he feels up to it.

Fox doesn’t like going to the Temple, but when he’s called he obeys. He fits the meetings into his schedule the best he can, and then he grabs a speeder and drives through Coruscant’s always jammed airways. In the past year and a half, he’s had to visit once or twice a month, and by now he knows the way by heart. 

That afternoon it’s raining, the sky dark grey and heavy, and Fox goes around the back after receiving permission to land and leaves his bike in the hangar he’s begun to find familiar.

He’s tired. His head always hurts when it rains like this, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, stress and the pain of a thousand little bruises that never seem to completely heal making the act of closing his eyes and slipping into unconsciousness seem almost impossible.

The technician in charge of the hangar is a very young padawan, Rodian and extremely serious. They must be barely over sixteen in nat-born years, and Fox waits impatiently while the teenager checks their datapad and logs in his name and designation.

The hangar is almost empty. There’re half a dozen starfighters in different degrees of disrepair waiting to be fixed in some of the bays, along with a very dusty ETA-class shuttle and a lartie with the worst portrait of General Secura Fox has ever seen in his life on the starboard side. Fox rolls his eyes under his helmet.

“That’s all, commander,” the little Rodian says. Fox turns back to them and nods. He takes off his bucket and puts it under his arm. The padawan’s eye stalks shudder, and suddenly Fox understands: they’re very anxious. “Thank you--thank you for your patience.”

Fox makes himself smile.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Thank you.”

The kid bows, awkward and too fast, and then hurries away. Fox sighs. 

“Good job. You didn’t make anyone cry this time.”

Fox closes his eyes. His hand twitches over his bucket, but he doesn’t put it back on--that would be admitting defeat. He turns to look at Vos over his shoulder and lets his impatience show on his face instead. 

“Sir,” Fox says. Vos waves a hand lazily from THE hull of one of the fighters. He looks--well. Vos looks as he always does. Disheveled and rough around the edges, as if he had just got there. 

Fox didn’t see him arrive. Then again, he never does. Vos is like a ghost--Fox’s yet to find a door that’ll keep him out. 

“Commander,” Vos replies, falsely serious. He drops from the starfighter and approaches him. Vos stops in front of Fox and knocks his knuckles against his pauldron. “Nice. New armour?”

Fox has to raise his chin to look the Jedi in the eye. 

“Yes,” he says. He checks the time--he has ten minutes to reach the conference room. “Do you have anything relevant to discuss with me, sir? Or are you here just to tell me that I look pretty?”

Vos blinks. Fox doesn’t let himself look away or swallow--he’s terrified, though. He can’t believe he just said that. Vos isn’t one of the bad ones, but he’s--they’re in the middle of the Jedi Temple. Fox cannot afford this kind of thing. He waits for a few seconds, his stomach in knots, his eyes tracking the minute changes in the expression on Vos’s face.

The Kiffar doesn’t look offended, though. He just looks--well. Baffled isn’t the word. Fox watches him open and close his mouth once--no words come out. 

Fox tilts his head.

His chrono beeps. Seven minutes and a half. He’ll have to hurry.

“Sir,” Fox says. He nods and then turns on his heel, leaves Vos still quiet and wordless in the hangar.

[cabezadeperro]

the falling man

commander fox/arc trooper echo, commander fox/quinlan vos // post order 66, canon divergence, hopeful ending // ~36k // complete

It's been three years since the end of the war. Fox works nights as a bouncer in an Underworld nightclub and does what he can to help in the fight against the Empire. He wasn't expecting Echo.

[AO3]