been sick lately so have this quick doodle of strike looking pretty

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been sick lately so have this quick doodle of strike looking pretty
@chrumblr-whumblr day 16: begging
wc: 613 | warnings: torture, knife violence, threats | characters: Strike (OC) (pov), Alex Brisals (OC), unnamed Separatist human female
[all time low voice] tonight's like a knife, would you cut me with your kiss I bleed red lips you're unbelievable-
another oc ship fic because i'm uncontrollable! so is the brainrot more things about Strike on AO3
—
Alex's eyes were wide as his gaze desperately clung to hers. She knew that look. That was the lie to me look, the tell me everything's going to be okay look.
"Stay away from him," she forced out through gritted teeth. "Oh, darling. It's sweet to see you think you have any say in the matter whatsoever." The woman selected out a knife from the tray in front of her, flipping it between her fingers as she strolled up and down the tiny room. "Don't darling me. Touch him, and I'll shove that knife down your throat." Strike's threat was made somewhat less effectual by the audible tremor in her voice. The woman laughed, and patted her on the cheek. "Just watch."
She left Strike, and walked towards him. Alex watched her the same way a frightened animal would someone approaching them, leaning away when she tried to grab him by the chin. "Hmm, where should we start? Do you think she'd like it if we gave you some lovely scars on your face?" Alex's breathing hitched, and he looked frantically past her to Strike.
"Maybe around your pretty mouth. So she remembers this every time she kisses you." She traced the knife lightly over his skin, and she saw his hands start to tremble.
"Don't." Her fingers dug into the leather straps that restrained her, kept her strapped to this stupid chair. They were right there; she should be able to stop this, to protect him, to do something, not stay seated as a creepy woman with knives threatened him. "Here's the thing, sweetheart. This all comes down to you. Just tell me everything I need to know about your little operation, and your boy here goes free and unharmed." She smiled, as if they were at a cafe instead of in a torture room. "Don't call her sweetheart." Oh, Alex. Poor, brave Alex. He was so far out of his depth, and still tried to stand up for her. Strike might be trained to withstand the worst Separatist torment, but he wasn't. He shouldn't even be here, her mind wailed. What have you done?
"You'll look wonderful when I'm done with you." The woman smiled wickedly, digging the tip of the knife in deep enough to draw blood, and Alex let out a strangled yelp. "Stop!" Strike desperately pulled against her bonds, tilting the chair dangerously forward. "Please." The woman turned to her, pretending she hadn't heard the first time. "What was that, lovely?" "Stop." She rolled her eyes and went back to her task, etching a curved line around the edge of his lips. "No manners. Really, should know better than to distract me. Or I might slip up." The knife jarred sharply downward, and Alex cried out.
Strike squeezed her eyes shut at the sound. "Please! Stop." Alex stopped screaming, and she opened her eyes to the woman looking back at her, knife hovering just above his skin. "One more time, soldier." "Please don't do this." Her voice dropped to a whisper. She kept her eyes trained on Alex's, holding him with her gaze if nothing else, and watched the woman pull away from her peripheral vision.
She walked over to Strike. Bent to look her straight in the eye. "Tell me everything I want to know about the Republic operations on this planet, or I will see to it that you and the boy become well acquainted with the very worst I have to offer." "I will. I swear. Just don't hurt him."
The woman smiled, and Strike thought of Rex and Anakin and Ahsoka and Jesse and Kix. I'm sorry.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
AAAAUGHHHHH I WANNA DRAW BUFF STRIKE IN HER SPARRING OUTFIT
@chrumblr-whumblr day 4: watching while loved one is hurt
wc: 293 | warnings: blood, torture, mention of broken bone, swearing (pg-13), spitting i guess, strike jason and the joker should all be their own trigger warning, crowbars, my extremely niche AUs | characters: Strike Kamino (OC) (pov), Jason Todd, the Joker, two unnamed masculine mime thugs
this is part of my Coruscant City Outlaws AU, which is different from my Coruscant City AU (which is also an au I have not posted about ever). this version is technically a Titans (show) au. which I have not watched btw. so in actuality it’s kind of a mishmash of stuff from the comics, my brain, and what I’ve seen of various Titans media including the show. not much of that is relevant to this tiny snippet though; this bit is mostly inspired by the Death In the Family comics. but if you want to know more of the Coruscant City and/or Outlaws AUs come and yell at me about it maybe 🥺
—
Strike spat blood onto the warehouse floor and watched the gray floor turn red. The mime thugs hauled her up before she could do it herself, and she stumbled as they jerked her onto her feet roughly.
“You okay?” Jason said hoarsely from across the room. “Just dandy. Worry 'bout yourself.” She turned to wipe her bloody mouth on one of the mimes’ vest, and had the satisfaction of seeing his face twist in disgust.
“I think you should both worry about each other and yourselves!” The Joker bent to prod Jason right in his broken arm, and Strike clenched her jaw as he let out a grunt of pain. “No one gives a damn what you think, Joker,” she hissed.
“I give a damn what I think. Why does no one ever factor me into these things?” He shook his head like a disapproving parent, and Jason spat in his face. “Ugh. Children these days.” Then he leaned over to pull Jason up by his collar and hefted a crowbar in the other hand.
Strike struggled against the mimes, but they didn’t budge. “You hurt him and I’ll-” “You’ll what, tiny? You’ll hit me? I am shivering in my shoes.” “Get the fuck away from him!” The Joker only grinned and twirled the crowbar in his hand. “But dearie, dancing is so much funner. And who doesn’t want to dance with uncle Joker?” He slammed it into Jason’s ribs, and he doubled over, coughing. “I swear to God, Joker, I’ll kill you,” she snarled, voice shaking with pain and exhaustion, and he laughed. “You flatter me. Watch this space to see what happens next!”
She lunged towards them, but the mimes pulled her back; all she could do was watch and scream.
i have a lot of content in my head about Strike being visibly androgynous but I realised I’ve been forgetting about our genderfluid queen Zimet
she is so Jason Todd coded
Rough general rundown on Strike’s backstory until I finish a polished version
CWs: child death, experimentation, physical and emotional child abuse, war, death, the Kaminoans, Strike’s sad love and family life, my sadistic use of smiley emojis during angsty bits
spoilers for the fics I have not written (and one I have) lol
throwback to when the Kenobi series was airing and my AU where Strike joined the rebellion earlier and met Obi-Wan on the Fortress Inquisitorius when he was trying to rescue Leia and the “General Kenobi? What are you doing here???” “What am I doing here? What are you doing here???” of it all