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thegreenlizard · 3 months

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Mand’alor Kenobi (Duke Kryze)

Obi-Wan leaves the Jedi, marries Satine, gets widowed and ends up as Duke Kryze.

Two alternative endings:

1) Jango Fett resurfaces and returns to Mandalore; or

2) After the war, Cody and his brothers receive an offer for repatriation from the Duke.

Obi-Wan leaves the order for Satine—and for Mandalore, ravaged by a civil war that never truly stops.

During his mission to Mandalore, Obi-Wan not only keeps Satine alive but is invaluable in consolidating her power. However, the hostilities never truly cease, the political situation is a powder keg, and at the conclusion of the Jedis’ mission, Satine sees how it’s Obi-Wan who’s holding the tenuous peace together. She asks him to stay and he leaves the order—not only for Satine, but for Mandalore and her people whom he feels the conclusion of their mission leaves hanging.

In the following months, everybody is running ragged trying to keep Mandalore together. Having already proved his worth as a negotiator/mediator, Obi-Wan quickly rises to a lynchpin position in the new government. Despite his background as a Jedi, his actions during the clan wars have earned him the respect of the more traditional warrior clans and he’s seen as a more moderate option to Satine’s extremism. Tl;dr: instead of treating Obi-Wan as arm candy, Satine puts him to work and inadvertently puts a lot of political power in his hands. What can you say? Sizeable and/or politically influential fraction of Mandalore’s population/clans likes Obi-Wan better than Satine.

To prevent her fragile and fractious government from splintering further (and to put an end to the talk about republic agents), Satine and Obi-Wan decide to make their relationship official and marry. Half of it is because they truly care for each other, but half of it is to consolidate the political power and marry the separate factions within their government together. They have irreconcilable differences of opinion when it comes to politics, but they both want what’s best for the people and that’s a unified leadership that’s not fighting with itself. So they have screaming matches in private, but pull together in public.

Stuff happens, Death Watch kills Satine (with or without the involvement of the Sith)—and New Mandalorians/Sundari/Mandalore unites behind the widowed Duke Kryze.

SO: That’s either a plot or a setup for the erstwhile Mand’alor Vhett to resurface, with or without an army of clones, a galactic war, the return of the Sith, and perhaps a political marriage that may finally unite Mandalore.

Perhaps:

- Obi-Wan grieves his wife, he truly does. But in the aftermath, he hardly has the time. And in retrospect, he has to wonder if half of the reason why achieving compromise always seemed like an uphill battle wasn’t because he spent half of his time fighting Satine and trying to moderate her extremism to something more palatable to the clans.

- In the aftermath, Obi-Wan may or may not finally succeed in putting down the Kyr’tsad and winning the Darksaber, which may or may not go a long way in convincing the remaining traditionalist and Kyr’tsad clans to get in line.

- Any Sith coming to take a piece of Mandalore or its Duke may find they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.

- Korkie Kryze may or may not be Satine and Obi-Wan’s son. Or maybe he is Satine’s baby nephew—Obi-Wan and Satine may still end up adopting him, depending on who else is left.

- Bo-Katan Kryze may or may not survive Kyr’tsad, but regardless, a Death Watch lieutenant is not going to be accepted by the people. She may get a seat in Obi-Wan’s council to placate Kyr’tsad loyalists, but she has no shot at getting the rule. Tbh, Obi-Wan would absolutely be the type to adopt his late wife’s feral terrorist little sister.

- Obi-Wan ends up adopting a full squad of feral murder children, in a true Mandalorian fashion.

- Jinn may or may not be alive; Anakin may or may not be his apprentice or have taken refuge on Naboo after his death; Obi-Wan may or may not be carrying a grudge towards the Sith for killing the man who raised him. And then killed his wife.

- The idea of marriage is probably actually first put forward by the clans who dislike Satine but find Obi-Wan acceptable. That would be a compromise solution: they’d accept Satine’s rule, but with the moderating influence of Obi-Wan as her husband.

- Actually, wasn’t “Ben” a nickname that Obi-Wan was originally given by Satine? He might then go by “Ben Kryze” after his marriage.

- Mand’alor is the sole ruler → before and during the Clan Wars, Obi-Wan is titled the duke. After he’s unified Mandalore under one sole government, he’s the Mand’alor.

- Timeline fuckery: instead of 15, Obi-Wan and Satine are ~20, early 20s. Young, but not teenagers. Satine may be a few years older.

- Jango may think he’s coming to Mandalore to oust the hu’tuun Duchess’s Jetii widow, only to find said widow to be a) the most mandokarla verd he has ever met, and b) more widely supported than he himself ever was. There’s no ousting the Duke now and if Jango were to kill him, he would only succeed in making him a martyr and uniting Mandalore further in avenging him. Jango… deals with these revelations. Well—he tries.

ALTERNATIVELY: After the war, Marshal Commander Cody and his brothers receive an unexpected offer of repatriation from Duke Kryze of Mandalore, who was tragically widowed during the war.

And perhaps:

- The offer may or may not be unexpected: if the Sith decided to go after Mandalore, there’s no saying what the Mandalorians might have discovered and whether their Mand’alor might have taken a proactive approach to the threat.

- The second dark sabre wielding Jedi Mand’alor might be something of stuff of legends—or nightmares—in the republic space/among the clones.

- Jango Fett might not have wanted the clones, but apparently this Duke Kryze does. If he is to be believed, Fett might have been the vode’s dar’buir, but according to Mandalorian law, there is no such thing as a dar’ad. Whether Jango Fett ever called them his sons or not, the mere fact of consciously partaking in their creation is enough to make them recognised as such in Mandalorian space.

- And so, here in Cody’s hands is an offer of citizenship for all of his vode; colourful pamphlets about various welfare and retraining programs; and apparently, a seat in the Duke’s council for the aliit’alor Vhett.

- Cody is torn between crying from relief (an end to the indeterminate arguments in the senate between citizenship and decommissioning?) and justified suspicion (a no-strings offer of home and sentient rights for all of his brothers? Too good to be true).

- Mandalore’s famous warriors have been decimated first in the clan wars and then in the galaxy wide conflict, which has left Mandalore in a more precarious position than may outwardly seem. The offer is not purely altruistic (Mandalore would be gaining an army of millions), even if Obi-Wan does also see it as justice. To Cody who’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop, this feels like relief. This, he can understand. What’s honestly more confusing is the Duke rushing to explain that acting in defence of Mandalore is something that’s expected from every citizen, not just the vode. Moreover, if someone can not or chooses not to fight, they are not forced to do so, simply expected to do their part in another way.

- And if the clones want to ply their trade as mercenaries? Well, it’s a time honoured profession on Mandalore—of course they may. As it happens, in the aftermath of a galactic war, there’s no end of work for hired guns. This may… upset the struggling republic. Any vode that decide to seek work in republic space keep their buckets tightly on as they may or may not be recognised as sentient, still—and other Mandalorians do so in support. Not all of them may *like* the clones, but treating other mandalorians as lost property? Not cool.

- Culturally, I would absolutely see Mandalorians as the sort of a culture that would not only think that their children are their future, but also that their people are their strength. The republic might see millions of vode as mouths to feed and bodies to house. But Mandalore? They see millions of trained warriors the republic doesn’t seem to want anymore and think “the greatest prize in the galaxy, up for grabs”.

- If Obi-Wan went on the offensive, he could declare that the vode are citizens of Mandalore by birth and the republic better stop treating Mandalorian warriors as expendable slaves or else. He can’t, of course. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting to.

- If Jango Fett dies as in canon, Obi-Wan’s family of adorable murder children might or might not include Boba. If the kids don’t kill each other, Obi-Wan will go down in history as Mand’alor the Unifier. This sort of adopting the offspring of your slain enemies is not ethically unproblematic btw, but on the other hand, I could see how the practice might fit in the Mandalorian culture.

About politics & war:

- Point of contention: Satine wants to exile the traditionalists to Concordia, there to fight each other to extinction in a pointless battle for dominance (canon, what the fuck?). Obi-Wan wants to unite Manda’yaim, not divide it further. This point alone, if he manages it, would win him points over Satine. So: instead of all traditionalists exiled, Obi-Wan manages to wrangle a shaky alliance of New Mandalorians and moderate traditionalists. Not necessarily the same bunch as Haat Mando’ade though there might be overlap.

- Satine, meanwhile, would be happy to import agricultural products from Concordia to the biodomes of Sundari. That’s a mess from an economic and food security standpoint. Again I ask: canon, what the fuck? You exile the unwanted parts of your population and then rely on them for food production? That’s not actually a realistic plot point, maybe scrap it and write something that provides actual political tension that doesn’t make caricatures of any sides/characters.

- Actually, the New Mandalorian policies in the preceding years are probably a large influence in the development of the extremism of Kyr’tsad. (Canon—wtf, I might be tempted to terrorism if my government unilaterally exiled large fractions of the population?)

- During the clone wars, Kyr’tsad still allies with Dooku and the Sith. The civil war, which had been on a slow simmer, boils over again. In the fighting, Satine is assassinated. Obi-Wan is not only the best but practically the only option to succeed her and keep the precarious alliance of New Mandalorians and moderate traditionalists together.

- It’s a long and a bloody fight against enemies both at home and in the shadows; fought with guns, with diplomacy, with fixing the deep divides in their society, and hunting the shadows fuelling the flames. Obi-Wan proves himself the same military genius and negotiator as he did in canon. He’s decisive, ruthless and compassionate.

- And eventually, he manages to defeat the leader of Kyr’tsad in single combat, wrangle the warring clans to the negotiation table, hunt the Sith, and unite Mandalore. And that’s how the Mandalorian civil wars and the Clone Wars tie together at the end there, and how Obi-Wan emerges from those wars: with united but weakened Mandalore, a dead wife, and a couple of orphaned foundlings. Victorious, but grieving. The erin on his armour long since painted over with black and gold (which he has earned many times over now, avenging his wife and his people). While the rest of the galaxy is reeling from the aftermath of the war, the republic shaken to its foundations, the separatists defeated but but still seceding, the weakened republic unable to hold onto CIS territories.

- This is the man Marshal Commander Cody meets. This Mand’alor, who seemed to have emerged from the funeral pyre of his wife in the image of the legends of old, reforging the Mandalorian empire anew. But still: just a man, victorious but grieving; with a core of beskar, but a heart so full of light it makes Cody’s teeth ache. Cody: Himself one expendable clone among millions, defying his fate and rising to lead armies to victory or ruin. And yet, a man fresh out of a war that has decimated his brothers and broken his faith in the galaxy.

#plot bunny #blanket permission #mand’alor kenobi #codywan #or #jangobi #space bunnies #space bunnies on mandalore

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twinterrors29 · 1 year

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Anakin retires after the war to be Padme's arm candy and stay-at-home-dad

she always picks out very fancy matching outfits for him and herself

one time, Obi-Wan is also invited to the same event, and Padme takes the liberty of dressing him appropriately as well

Satine, however, sees the results in the Space Society pages and tears across the galaxy to Coruscant

if anyone is going to be dressing Her Jedi, it's going to be HER

this launches a passive-aggressive tug-of-war over Obi-Wan's wardrobe, including his casual and work clothing

before long, he seriously considers accepting Cody and Alpha-17's offer of armor to escape the madness

unfortunately, he makes the mistake of articulating this desire where both of them can hear

Satine and Padme simultaneously turn to the clones, and can't help but notice how THEY all seem to be wearing their armor still, even though they're no longer in the army

this, of course, is a Problem, and needs to be Rectified

it quickly becomes a Senate-wide competition to see who can dress troopers the best as they each drag in their colleagues to ensure full coverage of all the GAR veterans

Anakin, the sadist, finds this all very entertaining to watch

#star wars #the clone wars #clones #padme amidala #satine kryze #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #alpha 17 #fashion

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toomanybandstocare · 4 months

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{Candy Cane Cupid}

Program: Holidays come around every year with mixed emotion. Excitement buzzes as clones celebrate their first Life Day with their partners after the war. Disappointment is pushed to the back of your mind as you keep yourself busy at work while your riduur is away. Mischief is in the air when Cupid finally reveals his holiday surprise for you.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 2017w

Warnings: Mention of candy cane, alcohol + club scene, bittersweet emotions around the holidays, barely edited bc my brain is v smooth from work, probs slight out of character Wolffe (see counselor note below), barely edited as usual oops

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For the lovely @sinfulsalutations - Happy fic exhange and holiday season! I hope you enjoy. ^_^ I tried to make it a lil Hallmark moment. Part of the Life Day Exchange for @cloneficgiftexchange hosted by Ghost.

Prompt: 79s For @clonexreaderbingo event hosted by Ghost.

Counselor Note: I apologize if it's not that festive or good. Been in a funk as of recently, but I had fun writing this and trying to explore Wolffe as a character more. I know he's more stoic and serious in canon, but I wanted to explore how he would balance happiness, relaxation, and the familiarity of pulling rank during post war.

It seems like all of Coruscant has decided to spend the evening out amongst the city levels for holiday celebrations. Still only a year since the Clone Wars were won, everyone carries a warm happiness and joyfulness as they weave through club lines with their friends. Former troopers gather in boisterous groups outside of clubs, eagerly waiting for their first Life Day celebration. The usual clubbers are surrounded by new faces who easily share their nervousness and excitement for what the night may bring.

79s, normally vibrant with yellow and orange neon lights, now welcome tonight’s guests with more festive colored lighting and music. Even the tired club staff seem to be able to find one last bit of energy to push through the night with the holiday cheer.

The tips of your fingers sting from gripping the chilled shaker as your gaze flits across the crowd of dancers and party goers. The small semblance of hope that you kept tucked away deep in your heart slowly sizzles when you can’t find a gray battalion ribbon in the crowd of troopers. Red ribbons pack tightly into a booth as they play a game of Sabbac and try to teach their partners. Blue ribbons spread across the dance floor as they find dates for the evening. Orange ribbons stick close to the end of the bar as they share a flight of beer and stories. Not a single gray ribbon in the crowd to be found tonight. Your chest constricts, squeezing all the air out of your lungs in disappointment. The last flicker of hope fizzles and stings your heart. Hitting the shaker against the bartop harder than intended, you pour a bright blue cocktail into its glass and slide it over to a giggling patron. You watch with yearning as she’s pulled into the side of her partner, who sports a green ribbon, before they maneuver through the growing mass of people to join their friends.

“Still no sign of Wolffe?” Kiva carefully asks. Walking past you from the side entrance of the bar with a crate of seasonal beer, he squats down to the small fridge at the base of the bar shelves. He looks up at you with a concerned expression as he slides the fridge door open.

“He said he wasn’t even sure if he was going to be in the system even after Life Day,” you casually explain. Darting your tongue over your bottom lip, you shrug and turn to grab a new drink slip. Unable to meet Kiva’s all too familiar sympathetic gaze, you grab the mixers and spirits for the next order. Your heart races out of rhythm to the upbeat songs pulsing through the club. As the liquids spill into your new shaker, your stomach knots and twists leaving agony to swim through your body.

“I don’t even know why I’m bothering to look for him. The last we spoke, he and Plo Koon were just summoned to attend the peace accords on Soreno,” you breathlessly ramble. Once the final words tumbles past your lip, your throat tightens and you slam the top of the shaker shut before Kiva can reassure you.

Guilt stings the back of your neck as you shake the drink above your shoulder. The day that Wolffe shared that he was reinstated as a Marshall Commander, you immediately called for celebration. All his closest brothers and your friend group filled into a bar just down the street from your shared home. It wasn’t until the two of you fell into bed and silence separated you from Wolffe’s bliss that you realized the two of you wouldn’t have a different life after the war. Wolffe would still be systems away from you a majority of the time. The realization sank in further when he couldn’t wish you a happy birthday in person with the rest of your loved ones. A solemn understanding was made when he missed your two year anniversary to help with an aid mission. The mundane moments and memories you had hoped to create with Wolffe were nothing like the ones that your friends share of their partners' first year away from the GAR.

Not even realizing that you had slowed your actions, a gentle hand takes the shaker from yours and pours it into the glass in front of you. With a sigh, you face Kiva’s kind, understanding expression after he slides the drink over to a trooper with a yellow ribbon.

“Give him a call. Maybe you’d be surprised by the answer?” he softly encourages. Hope and mischief dance across his face while he grabs your hand to pull you away from the order line.

“Why would I do that when I already know the answer?” you tiredly push back. Fatigue and numbness wrap around your bones, and you can only stumble after Kiva out of the bar. “It’s not even my break yet for the second half. Not to sound too pessimistic, but I’d rather just work the doubles if I can’t spend the holidays with my partner”.

“Well,” Kiva exclaims, “Call me your candy cane cupid, because I have a surprise for you.” He winks and pulls you through the group of women with glittering dresses and warm sweaters.

Your heart hammers against your eardrums at Kiva’s words. “What do you mean?” you hastily ask. Kiva’s laughter mixes with the music while the two of you weave through the clusters of clones towards the CO table, a now long standing tradition at 79s even after the war. When you break through the last wall of party goers, the entire club blurs around you.

Kiva steps to your side, and the booth is empty with all but one person sitting behind the table with two glasses of Corellian whiskey. Ambient lighting dances across Wolffe’s tired expression, and you can just make out the small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. One that only makes a fleeting appearance when you’re nearby or mentioned in conversation.

“Happy Life Day,” Kiva expresses with a beaming smile, “Now go celebrate and enjoy the holiday festivities”.Before you can even thank him, Kiva shoots you a wink and disappears into the crowd once more.

You watch in disbelief as that rare smile grows across Wolffe’s face while he moves out of the booth.Without a second thought, you stumble through the last few troopers wearing gray ribbons to throw yourself into Wolffe’s arms. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be home until after the holiday,” you choke out into his chest. Warm amber and musk mix to create Wolffe’s signature cologne, and you press yourself further into his embrace. His calloused hands roam across your back leaving sparks in their wake even when separated by your clothing.

“Your friend cupid has his ways,” Wolffe chuckles. His heart hammers as he reacquaints himself with your touch. How it feels to have his riduur in his arms once more. How the sound of your voice eases every worry from his mind. How being with you feels like home. Sliding his hands to your waist, he carefully pulls you from his body to fully be able to see you. Wolffe admires the small changes in your appearance as hues of blue, gold, and purple dance across your face. For just a moment, everything feels at peace. The anxiety of moving to another system in a few cycles disappears. None of the teasing remarks from his younger brothers get under his skin. Only you matter, and all the tension from his body dissipates. “Sorry, I got distracted. How are your eyes so pretty?” he murmurs almost to himself.

“Didn’t know you could be such a sap,” you sniffle with a light laugh. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Wolffe’s smile softens with remorse. “I know I haven’t been around as much as either of us had hoped. And I know I’ve let you down when I’ve missed important milestones for us this year. I wanted to make sure we could spend our first Life Day together,” he explains.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything wrong,” you rush to assure him. Tears sting your lasline from the overwhelming storm of emotion raging inside you. When you move to wipe the stray tears escaping, Wolffe tenderly cups your cheek with his hand. His calloused fingertip carefully traces the planes of your face and wipes away the tear from your cheek.

“I don’t,” Wolffe reassures you. “I know that this isn’t what we had imagined for either of our lives after the war, and I don’t want us to drift apart because of that. I’m here because I need you to understand that nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you. Nothing was going to stop me from spending Life Day with you this year or any year in the future, alright?”

All the loneliness and yearning from the cycles spent alone crash down onto you. Tears freely fall down your cheeks as you tuck yourself into the crook of Wolffe’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much,” you admit. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I know how much Plo and the GAR means to you, but I’ve missed you so much.” Your voice breaks at the end of your confession, and you pull away from his body to wipe your tears from your face.

“I’ve missed you, cyar’ika. More than you could imagine,” Wolffe mumbles into the top of your head. His heart stings at your cries, and he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I’m home now. It’s going to be okay, yeah? We’re going to figure this out”.

You let Wolffe guide you into the booth, and the two of you settle into the far corner. Draping your legs over his lap, you tuck yourself into his side and look at him in adoration. “We’re both a mess without each other, huh? Have absolutely no idea what to do without the other,” you tease. Wolffe chuckles and nods after taking a sip of his whisky. He ducks his head to press his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers: “Tell anyone and we may just have to leave early.” His warm breath tickles across your neck, and he squeezes your thigh as the rest of the Wolfpack join you with their partners.

For the first time during the holiday season, you’re able to sink into Wolffe’s arms and enjoy the company around you. Not a single member of the pack or their partners neglect to see how you’ve been. Plans begin to easily come into creation to squeeze in a few more holiday outings for you and Wolffe to join. A glimpse of the life that you hoped to create with Wolffe after the war finally playing out. Yet, it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t where you were currently at in life.

During a bout of laughter, you look over to Wolffe and find him already gazing at you with that all too familiar smile tugging at his lips. You cup his jaw and press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pulling away, the two of you share a look of adoration before sharing a soft kiss in the privacy of your own world. The two of you fall into rhythm with each other as if no time had passed. Lost in the moment, it’s not until his brothers start to howl and their partners tell them to leave you and Wolffe alone that the two of you break from the kiss.

“Mind your damn business,” Wolffe barks back to his snickering brothers. “How many times did I turn a blind eye to when you brought back your cy’are to the barracks?” Instantly the snickers silence as the older brothers laugh at the young clones.

Rolling his eyes as the conversation redirects to tomorrow’s outing, Wolffe pulls you closer into his side. Pressing a tender kiss to your temple, he rests his forehead against yours. “Happy Life Day, riduur”.

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miseries-mistress · 2 years

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JEALOUSY | OBI-WAN KENOBI

Synopsis: Jealousy. It's an emotion that floods your mind, filling you with anger, possession, envy, and, most of all, hate. All things you have been taught to resist against because such emotions are a path to the dark side. But it's all you feel as you stare into the eyes of Satine Kryze, a woman you've never met before, as she hangs off obi wan like a piece of arm candy. Oh yeah, you're jealous, alright, and you can't do a thing about it.

Warnings: female reader, CW SEASON 2 SPOILER, jealousy, satine, slight angst, eventual fluff, lousy writing, no spice. W/C: 3671

Notes: i just got to the mandalore plot a couple weeks ago, and i can not stand satine. i am taking my emotions out in my writing. not very good, and i know i say this a lot, but truly, this could have been a lot better

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You were never patient. It was something Obi-Wan chastised you for on numerous occasions. Your impatience taking hold of you was something you've tried to get rid of in various instances, yet it still remained as prominent as ever. That's probably why your feet were tapping nervously against the landing pad. A couple of clones that occupied your side watched your behavior with interest. Most of them were used to your constant restlessness and had come to terms with it being part of your personality. However, your nerves seemed to soar even higher on this occasion, and they could tell.

Obi-Wan was returning from his mission on Mandalore, where the duchess had been accused of siding with the Separatists. Due to Obi-Wan's…history with said duchess, the council sent him to converse with her about the recent events in that system. Your loud protests against their decision to sit you out resulted in Anakin being sent as backup after a bombing had been reported. Now, you awaited them as Duchess Satine and four other neutral senators arrived in the busy city of Coruscant to plead their case to the Senate.

An enormous vessel roared noisily above your head before docking on the pad. The ramp unfolded a moment later, revealing Obi-Wan and Anakin strutting out, their heads held high. Anakin's eyes found yours, and he waved, his hand stretching high above his head, a broad smile overcoming his face.

Obi-Wan caught sight of Anakin's behavior and followed his gaze to what had him so intrigued. When his eyes met yours, they eased instantly, and you could see the thinly veiled relief behind his eyes. A smile of his own twitched at the corners of his mouth as his pace sped up in an effort to reach you sooner.

It didn't surprise you to see the duchess leading the other senators off the ship but what did surprise you was how close she resided to Obi-Wan's side. The Duchess Satine, who you've never seen in person, was beautiful. Her blonde hair tied up into a tight headpiece that resided upon her head, displaying her culture proudly. The rest of her outfit matched her headdress, the colors consisting of elegant shades of blue and purple that dripped over her perfect figure. Even from a distance, you could see the pride that sparkled in her eyes, exhibiting her love for who you could guess by how she virtually hung off Obi-Wan, who it was directed at.

You felt your mood deflate faster than a balloon, your irises instantly losing their existing gleam. You felt a feeling, one you weren't acquainted with, wrap like tendrils around your mind, squeezing every insecurity to the forefront of your head. It was an ugly feeling that didn't belong among your happiness and joy that seemed to disappear when she left the ship, chatting excitedly with your master. And even though a minuscule thought in the back of your mind noticed how Obi-Wan remained transfixed on you, robotically nodding his head to whatever she was saying, his attention solely fixated on you. As soon as the thought arose, you extinguished it. Why would he be more focused on you, with such a beautiful woman at his side? Sure, you were his lover, but the secrecy tied a noose around your neck. The pressure of the rope was a constant reminder of how your futures as Jedi were balancing on a knife edge. Yet as Obi-Wan neared, his sparkling aquamarine eyes never dimmed, your thoughts doing nothing to aid you.

Obi-Wan's smile slipped as he noticed your lack of response to his arrival. He had fantasized about arriving home and seeing your face light up in delight at the thought of seeing him again. It was a reaction he had come to expect, and his mind wandered to the possibilities of what could have put you in such a sour mood.

And before you knew it, Obi-Wan embraced you, letting his powerful arms cocoon around you, sheathing you in their warmth and safety. You tried to relax to savor the feeling of your love by your side. However, your insecurities bubbled to the surface, leaving you in a mixture of gloom and cowardice. The professional amount of time allotted for a hug passed in seconds as he pulled away, concern filling his striking features.

"Master," you addressed him, bowing at the waist ever so slightly.

"Little one." Obi-Wan returned your gesture with ease. "Duchess, this is my padawan, Y/N L/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady," you bowed your head, and she slightly bristled at the formalities. You glimpsed at Obi-Wan to find him equally as surprised as you at her utter dismissal of you.

The senators behind her meet up with Chancellor Palpatine, loudly chatting as they near their transport. Anakin looked over his former master's shoulder before engulfing you in a hug, which you eagerly returned.

"Hi there," he laughed, and you found yourself laughing along with him. You nestled your head into Anakin's shoulder, inhaling the smell of dirt and ashes that seemed to stick to his robes. Obi-Wan furrowed his brows at your enthusiasm to see Anakin, a feeling he did not expect to recognize bubbling from the depths of his gut. His mind bristled with prospects of your mood change as you two pulled apart, smiling at each other.

The duchess bowed her head at you, turning away a second later. You could, for only a moment, see the flash of an unknown emotion cross her face. You could tell from the brief moment you did see it that it was something to disdain directed at you.

Her attention shifted to Obi-Wan, who had moved to your side.

"How ironic to meet again only to find we're on opposing sides," she solemnly noted.

"The needs of your people are all that matter," Obi-Wan replied, "They couldn't be in better hands with you to guide their future."

"Kind words indeed from a mindful and committed Jedi," she commented, taking another step forward, "And yet..." Satine placed a manicured finger on her red lips, looking down at the floor.

"What?" he asked, much too eagerly than you would have preferred. You felt that feeling in your chest stir once more, and your loathing for the woman you hardly knew grow with every passing second. Anakin seemed to be the only one to notice the increasing emotion emanating from you during their interaction. With increasing amusement, he watched your hand clench and unclench into fists. It was so apparent that you were jealous that he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Hell, he could feel its slight ripple in the force. It wasn't strong enough for anyone else to pick up on, but he knew you well enough to put the pieces together.

"I'm still not sure about the beard," she finished, stepping up to him. She reached out, her hand running down his jaw and over the prickly hair that tickled your face every time you kissed. Your jaw clenched. That was something only you did. Only you ran your hands over his neatly trimmed facial hair, admiring every feature on his face and placing feather-light kisses on every crease, indent, and scar he bore. The feeling you've now identified as jealousy rolled in waves over your heart.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" Obi-Wan sincerely asked, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. You grew more envious when he genuinely invested himself in every word she spoke, as if she was a preacher and he was her faithful follower, taking every word from her makeup-stained lips to heart. It was how he acted when you spoke, and now he looked at her how he looks at you like you hung every star in the sky, which made the cracks in your heart expand; the jealousy starting to wither into insecurity.

"It hides too much of your handsome face." She cupped his cheek gingerly, her hand brushing over his cheekbone. Obi-Wan made no attempts to move it or swat it away like he would with any other person who touched him without his permission. No, from your view, he invited such a touch, letting her soft honeyed words hang in the air. Her hand reluctantly slipped off his face, and she turned back, heading in the direction where her escort awaited her.

Anakin's inquisitive irises diverted to Obi-Wan, who watched as the duchess left without so much as turning back. He chuckled at Obi-Wan's dumbfounded expression, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What was that all about?" he asked, following his master's stare at the woman. Anakin's eyes flitted to your figure, and your expression made his heart sink into his stomach, his curiosity draining into something much more sullen. From an outsider's point of view, you remained unaffected by the interaction, looking with disinterest at the duchess as she bored the transport, but to Anakin, he saw beyond the thickly built wall you had placed between your exterior and your emotions. He could see the underlying insecurity that filled your eyes, and he could feel it in your presence. It was vague enough that you had to put the concentration into your signature to recognize it, but your jealousy ebbed away into something much more consuming; uncertainty. His sympathy grew as you turned away, hurrying through the double doors and into the Temple, leaving Obi-Wan and him alone on the platform.

Obi-Wan turned around, fully expecting to face you, only to meet with Anakin, whose previously teasing expression had vanished into solemnity.

"Where did Y/N wander off to?" Obi-Wan asked, his blue irises scrutinizing the platform for any sign of you.

"She left while you were ogling the duchess." Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing with distaste.

"I was not ogling her, Anakin," he scoffed, "Why did she leave?" His own nervousness grew at your sudden disappearance. Something was very, very wrong, and from your facial expression when he arrived to now, he was at a loss as to what was transpiring inside your pretty head.

"Well, if you weren't too busy giving heart eyes to your "old friend," then you would know that for yourself."

"Don't say it like that, Anakin. We are nothing more than friends." He scoffs, his hand running down the scratchy hair of his beard.

"Yes, because you just let anyone touch your face, no less your beard."

"She did that of her own volition Anakin. I-" he attempted to defend himself once more, feeling his patience wearing thin.

"You didn't stop her."

"Why are you arguing with me? It was a harmless action."

"That's what you think."

It clicked. At that moment, your behavior clicked in Obi-Wan's mind, and he knew the root of your sudden behavior change. You were jealous.

His realization must have been reflected in his features because Anakin patted his back. "I'll leave you to it."

He signaled for Rex and headed inside the building with him, making conversation as the doors closed. As Obi-Wan began to move to try and find you, a clone called out his name. He turned around, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sir, the council is requesting your presence." Obi-Wan nodded, and the clone took off in the other direction, saluting his superior before they descended into chatter. Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to steam in his irritation. He knew giving you time to simmer in your jealousy would only intensify the feeling. He needed to talk matters over now, but the council wouldn't accept Obi-Wan's late arrival. He huffed, storming off toward the Temple, where the council would be awaiting his arrival.

—

Night had fallen, and the stars danced above Obi-Wan as he speeds to your apartment in an un-composed jumble of nerves. Every second he's spent on his journey to you, his thoughts have whirled around different possible scenarios on what he could say, playing the interaction back in his mind. He should have known Satine, a ghost from his past would be a touchy subject for you. It's not that he never intended for you to find out; he just never found the right time to discuss it. You two were always so busy with the council, training, then now the war that your alone time was reserved for sleeping after a long day. It wasn't ideal, but you made it work, which is one of the many things he admires about you; your willingness to compromise.

He should have known. That was all he could think about as he tried to control his pace in the Temple for fear of someone seeing him in such a hurry. Of course, Satine would have tried to rekindle the old flame of love they once had when he was merely a padawan learner. It made sense, a history like that wasn't easily forgotten, but she was oblivious to his attempts to subtly deflect her advances the entire time he was on Mandalore. She didn't appear to get the memo on the landing pad, instead pushing her affections further.

He should have known Satine's very apparent feelings would stir up jealousy. Having endured other padawan's advances towards you, he was no stranger to the emotion. Now it was his turn to give you the comfort you needed.

His hand wrapped against the white steel of your door, fiddling with his fingers while he anxiously waits for a response. There is none, not even movement from inside.

His fist knocks on the door once more, his dread building as he is met with silence. He knew you were in the room. He could feel your force signature tainted with feelings of contempt swirling around the small apartment. He sighed, running his hand down his face, his eyes bouncing about the corridor. Obi-Wan dug out his spare key and placed it in the lock. It clicked as he stuffed the key back in his robes, taking the cold metal between his fingers.

What did he intend to say anyways? He used to harbor feelings of attachment for the quick-witted woman, but now he only cares for you? Care would not be the right word to accurately describe the depth of his senses. He loved you with every fiber of his being. He loved you, yet you didn't know how far he had fallen. Maybe that was due to the insecurity you didn't feel as deeply as he did, which placed a heavy weight on his heart. He shook his head. That's far from what he should be worrying about. He just needed to tell you the truth, no matter how you reacted.

And with that, he turned the handle and strode in. Your apartment looked like any other, plain with minimal furniture that was as lackluster as every other flat the Jedi were gifted.

"Little one?" he called, shutting the door behind him. It automatically locked while he took a step forward. He sensed your presence concentrated in your bedroom, but before he could step further into your apartment, the door swung open, revealing you in all of your beauty.

"What, master?" you responded, venom lacing your words, and his heart plunged into his stomach at the use of his title. You only use it in public. No matter how mad or angry you were, you never crossed the line into formalities unless you had to. His chest squeezed as he fought the sadness building in his chest at your fiery glare. He never wanted to be the source of your sadness, frustration, or negative emotions, and it killed him to see you in this state because of him.

"Can we talk?" he calmly asked, catching the way your face twisted. Please, he begged through the force.

It felt as though someone was repeatedly stabbing his heart, over and over, while he stared at your expression. You masked your heartbrokenness with a false rage. He could see through the internal struggle behind your eyes as you sifted through your emotions to try and find an appropriate response to his plea. Finally, you pushed yourself off the doorway and back into your room, the door still ajar.

"My dear?" he questioned, unsure of your intentions. Did you want him to follow you? He opened the door further to allow more space to enter. Your profile was silhouetted by the iridescent glow of the moon and artificial light as you sat on your bed, your eyes fixed on a particular spot on the floor. "My dear?" he called, in a softer voice, careful not to startle you. Your eyes lifted, liquid pools of a dazzling color meeting his murky blue. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you. Maker, how pure you appeared, sitting so patiently for him while your facade of anger dissolved, leaving your raw emotions of self-consciousness and insecurity behind.

He sat on the bed, next to you, finding himself unable to meet your eyes as they stared at the same spot on the floor.

"I didn't realize you and the duchess..." you muttered, unable to finish the harsh sentence, and Obi-Wan winced. He had everything to lose by discussing this particular argument; by everything, he meant you.

"In my days as a padawan learner, I was sent to Mandalore with my master for a year. The details of the mission are...cruel. The system was in turmoil, to put it simply. At that time, Satine and I had developed feelings for one another. It never progressed into anything more, and when I left, I had forgotten about her to focus on my training once more." Obi-Wan felt like he was stumbling over his words, desperate for you to understand. He tried to reach out with the force but was met with your guard firmly in place, preventing him from wrapping his force signature around your mind like he's done a hundred times before.

"I never loved her, my darling. That was in the past, something that had been buried under the life I'm building with you. She tried to renew something that was never there. Don't you see, my love? You're the only person I dream about at night, the only one I long to hold. The only one I fantasize about kissing. You're the only one I love."

Your head whipped around, your eyes as wide as saucers as you met his. Obi-Wan's eyes glistened with sincerity, and you slowly felt him disable your guard. Both of you knew that you shared this emotion with one another but had never spoken about it before. There was something sacred about those words, so dangerous but oh, so alluring because you had never loved anyone before. You didn't know how to express an emotion that carried such inexplicable weight in words, so you never did. Yet, they hung in the air, like a promise of something more, and you found yourself enraptured by it.

"How do I know that you aren't lying? Hm?" Infuriated tears were beginning to brim in your eyes. You sniffed, your leg bouncing erratically while you turned away from his empathic gaze. Obi-Wan's face fell, the corners of his mouth weighed down by the grief in his head. Years without the feeling of love, without anyone displaying how deeply you mattered, have led you to doubt his own confession's validity. It shattered his heart that he was the first person to tell you such a thing, leaving you believing that you were unlovable.

Obi-Wan's hand brushes against your face, urging you to look at him. You turn your head, and he lowers his hand, cupping your jaw with a raw tenderness that makes all of your fears melt from your head. For a moment, he sits there, eyes closed, breathing your air, and you can feel the pulse in his fingertips. You feel the quickness of his breath and the slight hitch as it catches. He seems nervous.

His lips almost hesitantly meet yours. After kissing hundreds of times, this one seems to have a level of intimacy the others couldn't possibly possess. There was a hidden vow on his lips, one that you chased after to uncover. He unraveled the emotions he had been too afraid to display, so profound and unrefined you couldn't imagine anyone else feeling this way. There was passion, admiration, devotion, purity, connection, and most of all, love that he untangled so tenderly that you felt like you would melt.

His mind was a blank slate, just reeling over the sensation of your rose petal lips over his. You tasted nothing sort of divine as heat flows through his veins, fueling his desire while he tries to convey every ounce of love he bears, a blissful feeling filling his heart. A wonderful whimper was released from your mouth, sending goosebumps down his arms.

He very slowly pulls back, releasing your lips with a wet pop. Obi-Wan glides his hand underneath your chin, running his thumb admiringly across your bottom lip.

"I love you, my dear," Obi-Wan whispers, "please never doubt that again."

"Never."

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 5 months

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Poets and Painters (Evening) Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss. Commander Wolffe shows Reader he cares so fucking deeply for his battalion in this segment because that’s important to me, thanks. Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet.

Word-count: 6,915

The sun is beginning to set on Little Archossi. Everyone has opted to stay, save for some of the crew. Only, that's untrue; most of the crew has left. Save for you. If the Clones are staying behind, you feel you should too. These are not your brothers, there is no familial bond that drives you to remain by their side and swear to keep them safe.

For Maker's sake, you're not even armed! one of your fellow crewmates says in an attempt to reason with you. That's of no concern thanks to Soapsuds' generosity. (His spare DeeCee now sits tucked into the belt and waistband of your slate gray uniform.)

(There, now I am armed. Will you be leaving now?)

But you couldn't leave. Part of you burned to know what the peoples of Little Archossi would look like, how this potential first contact would go, what it was General Plo Koon had sensed through the Force… An equally large part couldn't leave Commander Wolffe on his own.

But… that's a silly notion. He's surrounded by his brothers, flanked by his diligent sergeants, Sinker and Boost, and he's been readily communicating with his pilots like Warthog as they perform aerial sweeps following their return to the atmosphere of Archossi after dropping off the civilian crew on the Triumphant.

Commander Wolffe is not alone. So why do you feel like your absence would mean he'd suddenly be without company? Why did this equally large, equally loud voice within you tell you to stay for his sake? If he wanted you here, that would be one thing. But he never expressed any such sentiment. And he probably doesn't need you here because now you're one more thing, one more person's safety, to be concerned over.

Why are you offering to stay with Commander Wolffe, Arcadia?

I feel like he needs my…

You couldn't answer your crewmate. So you shrugged them off and told them to get on the LAAT without you. What the hell were you going to answer with? My help? My risk assessment? My friendship?

(… and again that creeping, all-consuming doubt: were you friends?)

Joining you on the hill, Commander Wolffe turns his face into the fading light and watches the final signs of daylight melt away; golden amber and candy-soft pinks are surrendering to the deep, swallowing blues of the sea, and the rich, dignified purples that often cloak royalty.

"No painting in the galaxy would ever do a sunfall like this justice."

"Perhaps not…" Wolffe murmurs. "But many will try." He says it like he pities the wasted efforts. Or perhaps instead he is quietly sorrowful on their behalf, in his own way.

"I think it's a wonderful thing that they will." you muse with a soft smile, deciding not to tease him for getting poetic (though it would be so easy to, after all the instances lobbied your way) but to agree with him instead. "Finding something inspiring and hoping to catch a little slice of that moment in time forever? It's like… a tangible form of courage."

Wolffe turns his face from the fading light, seeking clarity. "Courage?" he asks you tenderly, dark brow buckling just a fraction above the beautiful, cold silver eye. Figuring it's perhaps a measure of facial paralysis due to a severed nerve or two, you take notice that Wolffe's brow which the scar runs through doesn't lift as high as the other.

Old gods and galaxies… it makes your heart clench and your veins burn with fire in anger just for a moment. Such a mark dealt by the blade of one who shrouds herself in the dogma of the Sith has only added to the overarching tragedy of Wolffe's war service. His brothers, his eye, his paint. How much more would this galaxy rob him of?

His bravery? The willingness to rise from the dust, bare his teeth and say “again”? Would it take his courage, too?

(Courage… how terrible a thing to lose.)

Swallowing your swirling thoughts at long last, you think you should answer the Commander's question. "It takes courage to try…" you offer simply, "...creating art is the marriage of an act of courage and emotion. A little snapshot of the soul, some people might say. Like, for example, when I started sketching you today: it was a test of my courage…"

You explain that while today seems to show evidence to the contrary, it's been a while since making use of more traditional supplies, and you think of your skills as being a bit rough around the edges.

"I also think I can admit now that when you sat down in front of the tree… it kinda pissed me off. Just for a moment." Your nervous laugh breaks any mounting silence that would have built between you as the Commander considers your admission. "I-I, uh, wasn't planning on drawing anyone at all! But you'd finally sat down… and I didn't have the heart in me to ask you to move. Not when you were finally off your feet, and looking a little more… calmer than before when you were pacing. So I made a decision to add you to the sketch. And… you know the rest."

Indeed he did.

The shoulder pad with the icon of the wolf. The request to watch you add the color and ink to the page. How you'd gotten to know each other degree by degree as he spoke of Abregado, of his brothers, showed you he was more than you expected. The buried and measured sensitivity within him. The maroon and the gray paint. His observations that served as compliments of sorts.

You're perhaps too wise beyond your years, Arcadia.

Sketching… stitching little wolf designs into your uniform… How many other talents are you hiding?

Once, a half-joking statement about being able to tame a battle-beaten wolf was offered. ("I'm sure my brothers will start wishing you were around more, if we ever had more opportunities to "do nothing", Arcadia.") You had been watching Warthog assisting with preparing multiple gunships other than his own for takeoff, then. You had made up your mind to stay behind, but you hadn't yet told Wolffe.

Maybe one day… you'd agreed with a wistful smile, one day, when the war is over. We'll have plenty more days like this.

Part of you hoped it would be with him. When he would be free of his inner anxieties, when he was certain his brothers, all of them, were safe… would always be safe… maybe then, you could spend more days with him creating rather than destroying.

"I apologize for pissing you off," Wolffe offers, his voice a welcome interruption to the growing silence, "and now I appreciate your sketch that much more." The sincerity in the sight of his full lips parted in a gracious, charming smile is just enough to make your heart flutter for a mere moment. Mere moments were all he needed before he needed to excuse himself, Warthog was vying for his attention from the portion of the clearing where they had grounded the LAATs.

He'll (unfortunately) have to leave you to enjoy the rest of the natural, wondrous light show on your own.

As he turns on his heel, and starts down the hill, you wonder… Was there always this militant elegance to the way the Commander walked, carried himself, simply existed?

Maker alive… what's gotten into you suddenly?

There's glee and child-like wonder in the clearing, just paces away as you amble around the edge of the forest. Trying to clear your head, you've traded the durasteel halls of the Triumphant for dew-ladden, fragrant grass to pace. (The smell eludes you. It's familiar, yet hard to pinpoint. Is it the freshness of the water or the silky richness of the life-source in the soil under your feet? (Have you been aboard star craft for too long and just forgotten what grass smells like?))

You're trying to make sense of your thoughts, but there's just too much to filter through both internally and externally. While you're trying to figure out a singular thing - if you've made a friend today - it's impossible to miss the way no one can come to an agreement on what the ever-loving fuck these bugs are called.

“I'm telling you, lantern bugs are just as correct as fireflies.” Tack repeats himself with increasing emphasis to an increasingly confused Soapsuds.

“And they can also be called fire beetle?”

“Yes; not to be confused with the flame beetles of Kashyyyk. Those are different.”

Suds stammers in confusion. “H-how?”

“The flame beetles fuckin’ explode.” is all the elaboration Tack feels like supplying, the grim smile a far cry from comfort.

“What about glowworms?”

“Yes…”

“And fireworms?”

“Yes! You can also call them lampyrids and lightning bugs and candle flies. All of them are correct because they're all different common names for the same bug!” Tack promises, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sucks in his teeth.

Bless him, he's been remarkably patient with his brothers, veterans and shinies alike, in answering their questions about what the devil these bugs with yellowed-green lights were, and if they could catch them (or were they like those razorwing moths back on another planet that looked harmless, but had wings laced with a chemical irritant?) and other questions without end.

Yes, they were safe to catch. Yes, his brothers should also be careful not to squish them. They glow thanks to a process of chemicals, enzymes and oxygen, in short. (No really, Commander, I don't mind answering their questions; you don't have to tell them to quit “pestering” me.)

Yes, they are really pretty, in a strange sort of way, Orchid. The Clone researcher could certainly agree with that. “They’re like… Like…” Tack begins to mutter under his breath in thought, searching for the right sort of descriptive imagery and failing. “Fuck, I got nothing,” he admits with a laugh, “I’ve got connections to another researcher Clone in a completely separate unit, and he's really fond of bugs… I'm certain he'd come up with something in no time.”

You've abandoned your walk for the time being, too intrigued by Tack’s trouble, and mention of connection to another researcher like him. “How about something like… “living stars”, for a start, Tack? And who's the other researcher you know?”

Once more, you've opened the door to be teased for potential poetism, but no one takes the bait this time. Instead, Tack and the two brothers who are aging out of being considered shinies look out into the grassy field where the air is softly roiling with maybe hundreds of airborne fire beetles and allow a collective moment of contemplation.

Living stars…

“Yeah, I can see it.” Orchid offers quietly.

Nodding in distracted agreement, Tack offers the answer to your last question best he can. “His name is Cypher, and he's with the… the uh… Sh-shit, sorry Arcadia, I can never remember if he's with a legion or a battalion, officially. There's some weird arrangement going on with this unit being led by one Jedi, with one Clone commander and captain under their command.”

That sure does sound “weird”, you agree. “I didn't think that a Jedi Master would be-”

“Oh that's the thing: they're not a Jedi Master; just a Knight, according to what we know through the rumor mill, anyways.” Tack clarifies quickly (with an apologetic look for interrupting you). “But, yeah, that still doesn't answer why a singular Force-wielder is leading two forces like this. Trying to get answers out of Cypher that don't involve bugs is like trying to pull rancor teeth, too. No idea if it's some kind of grand fuck-up or maybe there… was… a Jedi Master and they were KIA.”

There's a weighted silence in the air now, devoid of the comfort and ease it once had. “That's… horrible, if it's the second case.” you offer solemnly. You admit your knowledge on the Jedi isn't as great as it could be, in all potential, but you think you understand that a Force-wielder with the ranking of a knight doesn't necessarily “need” the tutelage of their masters anymore (at least if you compare them to say, a Padawan?)... It's still a terrible ordeal to lose someone you formed some bond with.

“Not to mention… pretty troubling if it was a grand fuck-up.” Borrowing Tack's words, you have to acknowledge that the circumstances of leading two forces like this means someone is saddled with the task of keeping so many soldiers of the GAR safe. That's an enormous responsibility to shoulder. So many souls… so many brave men to lead. “If it's the first… let's hope whoever is… let's say in charge of directing the Jedi, sends someone else to help them. I know I'd want to make sure someone isn't on their own in a situation like that.”

From time spent in observation of the Clones aboard the Triumphant, when Soapsuds' left hand lifts to shoulder-height, you know that means he's got a question in mind. “Yeah, Suds?”

“Was it surprising to your family when you decided to take a position on a cruiser like ours?”

You shake your head and laugh out loud, the memory of making up your mind and announcing your decision coming back to you. “Oh, stars, no. They weren't surprised that I wanted to help people, but more how I wanted to go about it, I guess. Maybe they expected me to volunteer at a medcenter, rather than… something like this.”

Oh, you can feel it in your heart that this would make for an interesting story to tell, one day. You've definitely given them a decent amount of communication since joining, but it's all been careful and sparsely detailed. No names, ranks or planetary locations. Nothing the Separatists can intercept and use as leverage, or in an ambush.

You doubt the Separatists could glean anything from hearing you complain that one of your crewmates is a little too fond of loud, thrumming music at 04:00, or that no, you still don't like that one particular vegetable no matter how it's prepared, or no, unfortunately you still hadn't had the time to utilize the art supplies you were gifted, but you kept thinking about it.

(You had no reason to believe they were listening; to monitor so many channels of communication takes a lot of time and resources, realistically speaking. But, better to assume they are.)

Hmm… you can finally tell them you used the art supplies today, speaking of them. Handful of doodles, and at least two proper sketches. A flower and a… person?

No, that makes it sound too impersonal and vague, you decide. You drew a flower and a friend.

You were friends. New friends.

You don't have to be good or even close friends with someone for a meaningful connection like the one you've developed with Commander Wolffe today. Even decent friends are capable of creating unique experiences… It's no less heartfelt.

No less heartfelt and beautiful than the way you see so many of the soldiers who have stayed behind romp through the clearing, catching all the lightning bugs they can. Curiosity and childlike wonder abound, especially among the youngest. Giddy despite minor nervousness, shinnies have made a game (of sorts) out of catching as many of these bugs as they can to then “gift” to their older brothers and their Jedi.

Sinker and Boost take these bioluminescent gifts with readiness; thanking their brothers before counting each little bug before releasing them out into the open air once more. The higher the count, the more impressed they act.

When Commander Wolffe accepts them, he chooses to hold onto it for a time - if the firefly allows. Some fly away immediately, others will remain, resting their wings by lazily crawling over his gloved hands for a time, then taking flight. Other times he “trades” a few with his general. Really, on most occasions, he's just off-loading his gifted fireflies to Plo Koon, where each Clone is thanked by name.

“These are from Crash, General.”

He's looking to make his escape from the Jedi’s side, for a moment. The amount of young brothers coming to the highest grassy knoll with their fingers full of fire-bugs must be beginning to overwhelm him slightly. His eyes meet for a moment with your own.

Hello, you, is the silent exchange.

Plo Koon offers the excuse sought by Wolffe; a carefully masked chuckle of mischief (or delight in his own cleverness) is made by the Kel Dor as he hands one of the many lantern bugs clinging to his arm guard to his rather stoic second-in-command. “An excellent find, Crash; a most impressive size. Here, why don't you take this little one given to me by Arcadia? Perhaps they would like to return to their first friend, Commander Wolffe?”

“Certainly, sir.”

It should make you laugh to see how obediently, dutifully, a man like Commander Wolffe carries such a puny little thing in his curled left hand down the hill to you. You can't help thinking he looks too serious with such a no-nonsense expression, reminiscent of a predator determined not to let its meal escape them.

A hungry wolf hoping to wear down a frightfully-footed lamb.

But you are no lamb.

And you recall his promise from earlier when you call out to him, forgoing rank or respectful title in front of his brothers currently nearby. “Not getting overwhelmed, are you, Wolffe? Is that why the General wanted you to give me back the first firefly?”

Soapsuds regards you with eyes wider than a porg to hear you tease his Commander so flippantly. What's gotten into you?! the expression seems to scream between the young and bright brown eyes to the sudden drop of his jaw. Where's your respect?!

If you can tease, you will be teased in kind. But first, Wolffe gives you the singular, small glowworm as he was instructed. “I wouldn't say I'm the overwhelmed one, Arcadia. Taking your own turn to walk around the clearing, making more faces than Suds does listening to Orchid swear.”

You chuckle for a number of reasons, first for the ticklish nature of the bug's feet in the palm of your hand, and second for the comparison. “You noticed that, hm?” Wolffe does not answer right away, you notice. He seems contemplative as he watches the little firebug scuttle across each knuckle of your dominant hand, open its wing-covering (Tack called it the elytra) and take off with a buzzy zwit! into the cooling night air.

“A professional Sabacc player would read you like an open book.” Wolffe responds levelly, refraining from mirroring the curious smile with one of his own. (Noted, you think to yourself.) “You clearly had something on your mind.”

To say someone was on your mind as a part of that ‘something’ would be more accurate. At least in large part. Before you say anything to the affirmative, Wolffe offers some reassurance that he's not saying anything with the intention of prying for any information.

“Not that it's any of my business, of course.”

Not that it was any of his business, no, but he had been watching you at least long enough to make an observation, a guess.

“Well, there's been a few occasions where I've been told I'm rather… expressive, so, I'm not terribly surprised.” You offer the response in hopes that it'll keep the conversation from going completely dead; something overly-playful seems like the wrong move to make right now. Something too dismissive would likely be seen through, too.

“You could also say animated, I suppose…” you add with a soft laugh, inspired by the exuberance Orchid shows in tearing after a particularly large firefly that Tack has pointed out rather suddenly. “Or lively or… whatever else. I dunno. Guess it happens more than I'm aware.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Tack promises you, “we've all got our quirks.”

Wolffe nods in agreement to the researcher, a slow roll of his eyes as if to say don't I know it. Adding in a way that's almost an aside, he says, “Comet and Warthog were the ones who noticed. They thought perhaps you might've come to regret staying behind with us.” Here, perhaps subconsciously, his scarred brow lifts when he looks at you again.

Are you? the action says.

You lift one brow of your own, eyes narrowing a fraction. “I haven't.” you promise. (Why? (And are you sure it wasn't you?))

His head bobs slowly, thoughtfully. (Fair.) “Only thought I'd mention it. But I'm glad to hear, Arcadia.”

There's an unusual softness settling into every feature of his face with the last syllable of your name. Something beyond the selfless gratitude typical to hearing someone you care for has had a pleasant day. His brow unfurrows just so. The thumb hooked in his belt just behind his holster - keeping his weapon near - becomes less deliberate now. (Not completely relaxed, but certainly less of a chokehold.)

Not to mention the slight, relieved smile before he turns his concern on one of his brothers.

“Where's your DeeCee, Soapsuds?”

Startled by the sudden addressal, Suds yelps and nearly squishes the large firefly Orchid has caught. “Huh! O-oh I'm letting Arcadia borrow it, Commander. One of the other crewmates, uh-”

Either in the interest of time, or the disinterest in hearing long-winded excuses, Wolffe shortly asks for the firearm tucked into the waistband of your uniform to be returned to Soapsuds. One of the flint-gray commander's own DeeCees is extracted from his belt, no fanfare or fancy fingerwork to make it twirl like Suds had when he offered, and is firmly planted with all the proper weapons-handling etiquette in the palm of your hand. Commander Wolffe's hand is undoubtedly solid - it is not just the form of the blaster that lends to your arm dipping under its weight.

Even through the raven-dark material of the gloves, the body suit, the neutral-colored armor, you know Wolffe is warm, too.

“Here. Why don't you take mine?”

It is not a suggestion.

You don't immediately understand what the big deal is about trading Soapsuds’ weaponry for the Commander's until you spend a little more time thinking about it. Suds has only the one gun with him on Little Archossi, and if the Commander has two, then, it'd only make sense to take his.

As a precaution, you shouldn't be unarmed; that much was agreed upon between the soldier and his commanding officer a ways off in the clearing now. You could catch snippets of their voices, carried on the stiff, evening winds.

“I was only trying to help.”

Suds had not intended to be completely defenseless himself, nor would he be, owing to his training instilled in him on the Clones’ rainy motherworld. Push comes to shove, you've seen your fair share of how proficient these men could be with only their hands. Hands that have hoisted and carried a fellow soldier to safety under enemy fire. Hands that have shown tenderness to the frightened and battle-scarred, civilian and brother alike.

(And that's not without mentioning the many knuckles broken against the plating of the CIS battle units by the brazen (or desperate) men of the Grand Army.)

“I understand that, but you should have considered that we don't know what's out there.”

You're unsure if the Commander is lecturing this brother and young soldier out of disappointment, or out of worry. You've known many Clones who tend to fret after their ‘little’ brothers, each in their own way and fashion. Only too understandable with everything Wolffe has been through and faced (and lost), he must feel some need to really make sure these lessons stick. He will always lose brothers, from the callous to the curious, but if he can ensure as many as possible make it out of this war alive, he likely would.

In this lifetime, in the next, and every heartbeat in-between.

Commander Wolffe cares. About his General.

“... are you angry at me, sir, for giving away my blaster without thinking again?”

About his brothers.

“No, Soapsuds. You were thinking… You… You only meant to look out for Arcadia.”

About you.

Though it feels too private a moment, one between brothers, to witness, you cannot turn away when Wolffe lifts Suds' head hung low and gives him a quiet look. “Your blaster and your name. Never forget.” Soapsuds waits a beat before nodding solemnly; there is a seriousness and severity to his brother's reminder.

Their blasters and their names are among the few things a Clone can own. I own my blaster, I own my breath, I own my Name…

Never will you forget the mantra you've heard multiple shinies, fresh off Kamino, mutter to themselves in isolated halls in the dead of the night aboard the Jedi cruiser. Suds must be one of the few who still repeats this to himself even now.

“I won't.” he promises with an emotional grimace, one that prompts his CO to clutch him to his chest.

He can't. No brother would ever let him forget his name, and a blaster can always be replaced in the event it is lost. There would never be another him. Never another Clone who would twinkle, or glimmer, or burn the same way as him in the Force. Every one of them feels, senses different in it.

(How do you compare, you wonder.)

Would you feel steadfast, seemingly indomitable like them? Or rather you'd be found out as having a bright, sun-like spirit; not merely hot and golden, but perhaps comforting. Maybe flickering and dreamlike, just the way the fireflies are.

You might go your whole life never finding out how you are sensed, never knowing the details in the thumbprint of your soul. You can make your peace with that. You'd sooner exhaust yourself asking after the likes of the Clones, given the chance.

Commander Wolffe releases his brother at last, the hand cradling the back of Suds' neck lifting away last of all as he's freed from a needed embrace. The time for tender doting fulfilled, Wolffe once more cautions his brother to be careful as the evening deepens before turning him loose. “Be sure to watch your step. And keep clear of the trees.” It's totally dark with the sun sunken below the horizon, casting this side of the planet with the deep blues of night. It would be wise to give the forest an even wider berth than before.

After doing some theorizing, the sergeants carried out the test themselves while everyone else had been mesmerized by the emergence of the first fireflies.

You can not see what stares back at you when you peer into the thicket; denser than Kaminoan rainfall, according to Sinker and Boost’s findings.

(Just what the Commander needed… more reasons to worry.)

Soapsuds bobs his head as if to say no, right, makes sense. “I'll, uh… remind Orchid as well, sir.” he promises almost meekly. If he can help it, he won't make his Commander stop whatever he's doing just to wrangle him back into place a second time.

He's not stupid. Soapsuds is just… young. Excitable.

Less experienced. In a moment, perhaps one of mild frustration or fraternal anxiety, Commander Wolffe may have temporarily forgotten that. Which is okay - forgetting is not a crime, much in the same way that being young is not a crime.

Nor should being unable to help your nature…

After some time alone, when you come to check on him, Wolffe casts a nearly pained look in your direction, surmising that you've witnessed the entire encounter. The sloping, pinching squeeze of his eyebrows and the haunted expression suggests maybe he believes he's been too harsh. That he's spent the last five, maybe ten minutes beginning to second guess what he's said - or how he's said it - to an almost-not-a-shiny brother.

No matter how much he's been trying, he's done it again. With every good intention, Master Plo can invite him to relax as many times as he'd like, but it will not come so easily for a soldier.

Commander Wolffe will not relax completely today, because he can't. At least not on his own, not without someone to reign him in should he stray too far beyond briefly conferring with a soldier or two, or sparing a few moments for a visual sweep across the clearing when it had been light out.

“Thought I'd keep up my habit of keeping you company,” you offer quietly, setting yourself down in the lush grass beside him to pull out your sketchbook and pencils, “if that's alright.” You won’t mention the fact that while you were giving Wolffe the space you thought he needed, Sinker had extracted himself from where he, Boost and Comet had steered a giggling mess of Clones a little further off when their retellings of their “sexploits” had become a little more colorful.

You’ve been having better luck than us, Arcadia, Sergeant Sinker had admitted to you, we think you should be the one to keep him company. We’ll keep the lid on things here best we can.

(Force be with you and all that if ‘keeping a lid on things’ involves Orchid and far too many details about sex in any capacity… (Like the time he purportedly ‘froze up’ for a moment when he realized the date he scored himself at 79’s was with an intersex humanoid-species he can't remember the name of.))

You're aiming just to be non-intrusive, out-of-the-way in your company. You're not expecting conversation when you've already done plenty of talking today. You're not even sure what you'll sketch, or if you'll even draw.

Hearing the words “Could I?” out of his mouth is surprising to you. He almost certainly hears that surprise in your voice.

“You wanna give it a try? Uh. S-sure, here.”

The pad is immediately flipped to a clean, unmarked page once it's in his hands; selecting a pencil takes longer, the labels making little sense. Herf. Besh. Herf-Besh. 2-Besh. There's at least two others he hasn't touched yet.

“What does it all mean?” he murmurs more to himself than you. (He takes the 2-Besh at your coaching.) “Level of the graphite’s softness?”

You can only shrug. “Apparently. From what little I know, 2-Besh is most versatile, so that should work for just about whatever you had in mind.” He could fill the page with circles until you've gone cross-eyed for all you care, honestly. There's obviously been a lot on his mind today; there's been a lot on yours too. Whatever it'll take to drive the thoughts nipping at your heels back even for a moment, or even slow or halt altogether that tumultuous tailspin of anxiety for both of you would be a welcomed discovery.

He's made up his mind on what he'll be drawing, but you're not permitted to look. “Not just yet.”

“What? Oh, Wolffe, come o-”

“Ah-ah. Would only be fair.” He didn't see what you had been working on for a few hours, after all, right? The piece the Commander plans to compose is less involved than yours, so it shouldn't take ‘terribly long’. (Okay, that would only be fair, you concede.) You have one of his pistols, so if you wanted, you could walk around the outskirts of the clearing so long as you were mindful of how close you were to the forest.

Maybe not right now. Maybe instead you should keep an unoccupied eye out instead. You both did just hear General Plo begin to caution several men only a few yards away that there was a shift in the Force around the planet.

The inhabitants of Little Archossi might be waking up.

“Good idea.” Wolffe agrees. He'll be quick about it, he promises. You'll have a look before long, though for now, you'll need to find a way to entertain yourself between the intermittent safety checks. Keep your eyes up, keep your ears perked, and sweep your line of sight often. The only thing he won't tell you to do is keeping a closer eye on the shinies. “I don't know how well you know my men; how readily you can tell them all apart, nevermind who is and isn't newer to the battalion.”

You single out a trooper at random - one who's absolutely covered in grass stains and dirt after rolling down a hill in his full armor kit - and in full confidence declare “That's Halogen. I believe he's fond of rotary cannons as opposed to blasters.”

He chuckles once, impressed. “And is Halogen a shiny?” You're good; he wants to see just how good you are. The pencil is flipped in Wolffe's hand and he tediously erases something for a moment.

“He’s not. Waves, the brother he's sneaking up on is, though.”

Another impressed chuckle. You know more than you've let on, perhaps, he admits, but he still won't task you with shiny-wrangling. Leave that to him as their commander. He turns his attention wholly to the spiral-bound book in his hands, occasionally leafing through the previously marked pages until he reaches the first. Comparing? Admiring?

Or is he thinking, remembering?

“Like worship…”

You try not to respond, acting entirely too interested in the busy-work of fixing up your footwear, ensuring all is secure as you wait for those choppy, sweeping skritch!-es to resume.

And with Commander Wolffe nose-deep in the sketchpad, shielding it from your field of view, you find yourself zoning out somewhat. He won’t show you what he’s working on, but from the sheer amount of times he’s glanced your way, you have a possibility in mind.

You turn your gaze skyward for the moment, higher than the fireflies and beyond the misting of stars. “Wow… would you look at the size of that moon?” you marvel under your breath, more to yourself than anyone in particular. Round and bright, she’s certainly the celestial focal point over Little Archossi, and though it will likely be dark, or perhaps partly back-lit, you know the general location of the Jedi cruiser from your position.

Will the moon look just as beautiful from the viewports of the Triumphant, or does she lose all her shining splendor in the spiraling vastness of space?

“I’m not going to howl.”

There’s a beat of silence before the commander either realizes that you had not made the remark he assumed you had, or that you had not reacted to it like he would have guessed.

“Sorry, Arcadia, I…” The graphite pencil halts in his hand as he reigns in his thoughts, sharply exhaling the likely frustration or disappointment. “Terrible joke. There was a trooper named Howell… It was part of a routine with him; he had a fascination with astronomy. Could tell you the name of every moon a planet had. First thing he’d look for every nightfall. “Look Commander,” he’d say, “Look at the size of that moon!” with such palpable excitement, too…”

You can guess why Wolffe’s reply was what it was. You can almost hear how he’d likely say it too, were he less distracted by the sketch in his hands… “What happened to Howell?”

“The half-starved megafauna the droids were using cornered him in a foxhole while we were aiding another Jedi in the Outer Rim. General Plo couldn’t reach Howell in time.” Commander Wolffe's pencil strokes become halting, brisk, as he thinks about this brother. “Without a helmet, it takes roughly 235 kilograms of force to crush a human skull. Or so I'm told.” The afterthought is added in a small, tight voice. A memory he’s jostled loose that’s left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A fist squeezes the material of your uniform over your heart as you infer poor Howell’s fate for yourself. “Fucking shit…” How terrible. You try not to dwell on those thoughts as you glance over your surroundings, even behind you for good measure. (What sort of megafauna is capable of that, anyways?) Nothing appears out of order in the clearing, but there seems to be perceptible activity from the treeline that the Force-wielder is picking up on.

Why else would Plo Koon be steering the Clones deeper into the heart of the clearing with that kind, almost fatherly cautioning; “Why don’t you join your brothers near the hills, son? (Why, General?) In the interest of safety, that’s all.” Every opportunity he has, Plo has his eyes trained on the forest as he moves from cluster to cluster of troopers, directing them to move closer to where Sinker and Boost have positioned themselves, or the Republic gunships at the very least. He’s moving with purpose, his stride unbroken and direct through the ankle-high, fragrant grass.

Something must be awake beyond the trees… You don’t know if you should start feeling concerned by all these precautionary measures, or feel assured. The Commander hasn’t reacted in any noteworthy way as of now, but you know he’s at least noticed your nervous tells once more. Only once he’s taken a more thorough read of your body language - the shoulders creeping closer to your ears, the occasional bob in your throat with every dry swallow, the fistful of your uniform rumpled in your dominant hand - does Commander Wolffe begin to act.

He begins covering and setting the sketchpad aside, just for a moment, to give you and the immediate surroundings his undivided attention. “Don’t hold your breath, Arcadia. The last thing you should do when you’re starting to get nervous is hold your breath.” he advises you, being cautious about his line delivery. Too casual, it comes across flippant at best about your anxieties. Too stern, and it will sound like a lecture. A reprimand. And he’s not here to do that; Wolffe only means to soothe your nerves best as he can - like he tried to do for Suds. “General Plo would be addressing those troopers a little more urgently if he sensed real trouble.”

You bob your head, but want to offer him a questioning look all the same. The Jedi’s behavior seems pretty damn urgent to you. But Commander Wolffe knows the Kel Dor better than you do, so you trust he’s telling you the truth. “That’s good to know.” you reply with a lilt of relief in your voice.

A lilt he of course notices, and takes as a permission of sorts to resume his sketching. He’s nearly done, he tells you, but he needs to clean up one last thing and add another first before he shows you. Then, perhaps, you could help him decide how he should finish this.

“That sure was fast.” You don’t know if surprise or admiration for the speed of his work is more appropriate.

Maker have mercy, when he flashes a slightly wolfish smile at you, you’re almost tempted to pinch yourself - just to be sure you haven’t imagined it.

“It helps when you’re inspired.”

That’s certainly true, in your experience. When you feel inspired by something, feel inspired to create something, it feels like little else matters in that moment. You can become a whirlwind of creative thought, so swept up in the progress, that time just seems to slip away.

Before you can ask what it was that inspired the Clone commander, Wolffe has added his last few pencil strokes, and presents you with the page.

It becomes very clear right away what it was that has captured his eye, what it was that inspired him. It’s just as you suspected.

“Is… that supposed to be me?” you utter in wonder.

The figure on the page looks just like you, resembles you at the very least; but the wear is not your own. The slate gray uniform has been swapped for the raven of the bodysuit, and encasing every limb are the segments of Clone armor. The gauntlets sport claw-marks, and you think that partially-hidden phase two helmet at “your” hip has what are supposed to be bare teeth - wolf teeth, no doubt. And the chest plate is clearly modeled after his own, at least in part. Otherwise crisp lines partly ruined by eraser-smudgings, there's a large crack in the direct middle, and in the center there's an attempt at an anatomically-correct human heart.

There is a tiny, tiny little icon of the Wolfpack on the throat of the bodysuit in your favorite color, and that's when you see without further doubts that yes, this is supposed to be you.

If your drawing was described as worship, you find his to be an equally heartfelt act of devotion. You're drawn with such care, it's nearly… you don't even have the words for it.

You find yourself almost choking out your words now. “It is me…”

“And you're welcome to color it as you see fit, Arcadia,” Commander Wolffe says rather abruptly, thrusting the pad into your open hands, “I’m needed to speak with the General.”

Pleading with him to stay is like trying to catch smoke. “Wolffe, wait-” He's quicker to his feet than you expect, trampling the grass underfoot without a moment's hesitation to answer the Kel Dor’s distant summons. He will not wait. He will not explain what the bottom of the page, in tidy, thin Aurebesh means.

Behind the teeth and claws, there is a beating heart.

I now have a taglist form, which you can find -> HERE! <- 🩷 Thank you for your patience as the length of this fic spirals out of my control, haha. Clearly it's no longer just the four initial segments like I once thought. (Hey, it's just more Commander Wolffe content, can we really complain?)

[Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Midday] [Late Afternoon] [Here] [Deep Night] [Golden Dawn part 1]

[Golden Dawn part 2]

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zergula · 1 year

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Welcome To Lunestia

The date is 7600.

Humanity finds itself alive and well on the planet of Lunestia! With its gorgeous greens, purples, pinks, and white fields it is definitely different than Earth but almost eerily the same. After the legendary forum wars of 2025, aliens have fully become a part of society on Earth as well as Lunestia. Great advancements in not only technology but human evolution have improved life in the universe more than any being could imagine!

I fell in love with Risa's Lunestia and Meroze maps as soon as I saw them! It was really hard to choose between those two to use for this space world save but Lunestia's beautiful terrain painting and blend won me over! I highly recommend both of these worlds, absolutely gorgeous and incredible work!

INTERESTING CHARACTERS

Mae, Malie, and Una Verse keep watch over the renovated remains of the First Contact ship that brought all beings to beautiful Lunestia! Although thankful for the great honor bestowed upon them from their ancestors, these young beings just want to have some fun, sometimes!

The Goth family and Bachelor family fell into a wormhole in Sunset Valley and have found themselves farther in the future than they could even imagine!

Candy is a plantsim who is trying her very best to recreate all of the lovely plants from Earth! She lives in her underground lab and you can find her there or above ground tending to all of her lovely friends…uh plants!

Skyla Martial is a genius who has filled her home with bots that she treats like family but never stopped to wonder if she wants an actual family. Either way, the bots fill that void…for now.

Finally, you will find lots of beings from Oasis Landing and Lunar Lakes here: Amelia Loveland, Kel Gwyn, Harkin Shire, Fawn Lacey, Felix Finn, The Planesons, The James family, The Mosqueda family, The Su family, the Sekemoto Family, Eleanor Alto, the Castle family, the Star family, the Orey family, and the Landgraab Clones.

Around Town

29 Community Lots 62 Residential Lots

There's lots to do in Lunestia! Along with all EA rabbitholes, you can visit:

The Millennium Falcon Bot Emporium - A recreation of the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars by soocoolsim! It includes the bot emporium register, comics register, and a food register.

The Future Fashion Salon - - I have been experimenting with combining rabbitholes, registers, and lots on one lot and am loving the results! It saves so much room in town and I love how some of these rabbitholes/registers/lots work together! This is a salon and tattoo shop that includes the Elixir Consignment register, nectary register, consignment store register, and the Spa rabbithole.

Purple Flourite Museum - Art Gallery by Satureja13 that includes another nectary register.

Monsters Inc Stadium - a fun recreational park built by Hidehi for the Disney Magic Kingdom collaboration. The school and stadium rabbitholes are also located here.

Sapphire Ice Gym - by Satureja13 A small gym with all machines and martial arts stuff

Zephyr 47 - An old starship repurposed into Lunestia's favorite spot to watch the game, get some wings, and drink some juice with the old team! (shell by geminiagre, interior redone and converted to sportsbar by me)

Natatorium Pool - pool from Lunar Lakes

Laser Waves - A poolside club with lots of secret places to find!

Cosmic Ray's Bowling Lanes by Sandraelle is the place to be in Lunestia! A huge arcade with every game and numerous bowling lanes open at all times, all beings come here for fun and prizes, to grab some groceries, catch a movie, or have a quick meal at the diner!

Lunestia Library And Bookstore - a huge library with fun for the kids, snacks, the bookstore, and the Vault of Antiquity

Full Spectrum Fire Safety - by Waterheart197 - Even in the future, fire will still get you. Luckily, the fire safety beings here at Full Spectrum can help!

Bridgeport Acres Festival Grounds

Astro Orbiter - by soocoolsim is a fun hangout with a roller coaster, games, and snacks

Lunar Hub Casino - this is Lunestia's Live Show Venue that includes all casino games, giant performer's stage, nectary, and food register. You can find HOLODEK by Livvy1049 - a bright future lounge right next door!

Science Tech Center - bot emporium I built that includes the bot competition arena and observatory rabbitholes

Cube by Snowmoon - this dive bar is for surly beings only!

The MotherShip by Snowmoon is a little more inviting for the locals in Lunestia. The Darts Competition is weekly, see you there!

It wasn't long after Lunestia was discovered that the Space Buzz Studio by Hidehi was built! You can always see some of the actors rehearsing on stages upstairs if you stop by to tour the studio rabbithole (in the basement).

Crater Lagoon is the town fishing spot stocked with all fish and not too far from there you will find Oasis Shoreline Beach!

Don't forget to visit the crash scene wreckage! It might look like a junkyard but very important research is being done here. You can see the renovated First Contact ship from here as well!

OTHER INFO

In this download, you will find the world and 3 save files:

LunestiaCommunityLots - this save has the community lots only, no residential houses or other lots

LunestiaUnpopulated - the is the final version of the save without sims

LunestiaPopulated - this is the final version of the save with all households

This save uses Into The Future, Lunar Lakes, and all sci fi store content extensively but there is zero custom content. I have all expansions, all stuff packs, and all store content but if you do not have some of the items, the game will generate a similar item for you (but you may have to edit). The only expansion not used is PETS so I am unsure how the save will perform with Pets, but there is definitely plenty of room for them!

Because this world was just roads and trees, I ran into the same problem I had with Simarellen, which was sometimes the lots do not line up perfectly with the roads. Some of the lots may look diagonal or incorrectly placed because of that but I have playtested everything and have not found any routing issues. This world save does use the Into The Future elevators profusely so there might be an issue with some of the elevators not working as intended. To fix this, simply go into build mode on the lot, go to the ground floor of the lot, use the hand tool to pick up the elevator and then drop it, this will reset the elevators to go to the correct floors. I tried not to fill the world up with lots too much, but it was hard to choose with so many excellent options out there! You can always add more, if you like!

This took me longer than I expected, my apologies for the delay! Please tag me @zergula or #lunestia if you share any photos, etc I would love to see them. You can find my other world saves here: River Falls here: Simarellen and here: Kaodina

Happy simming and green plumbobs for all <3

SIMFILESHAREDOWNLOAD

#ts3cc #s3cc #the sims 3 #the sims 3 world save #the sims 3 save file #the sims 3 world save file #lunestia

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scooptroopfanfic · 1 month

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Runaway CH2

Note: Please check the warnings on the Chapter Select before reading

Lucy rings Steve’s doorbell. She is surprised Steve still lives at home, but she really does have the room to judge. As the door opens the packaged popcorn, candy, and Yoo-hoo are revealed to him.

“Hey, Stevie. Wanna let me in so we can get set up?” He grabs one of the bags she has from her pile. Lucy looks back at her brother’s van and waves him off. Chrissy shyly waves as Eddie casually waves at her before he drives off.

“Is your brother taking a girl home? Wait. Is that Chrissy Cunningham?”

“It isn’t like that Stevie. It’s a deal, not a date. You should know about this considering you used to throw a bunch of parties.”

“I didn’t touch that-“ Lucy gives him a knowing look as she enters the home.

“Liar. When Eddie found out we were friends he immediately ratted you out. I don’t really judge. One of the tamer things Eddie has to offer.” She says as she puts down part of her haul on the kitchen counter. “Plus, you outed yourself to Dustin in the elevator last summer.”

“Right. Forgot about that.”

“Fair. We did end up on the weirdest trip I have ever been on thanks to those Russians.” Steve then goes through her haul of snacks meant for the next couple of hours.

“Yoo-hoos?”

“Yeah! They are a Munson essential. Amazing!” Steve gives it a skeptical look. “Come on Stevie! Trust me.” She says as she takes out the popcorn and starts getting it ready.

“Fine. If there are no objections to movies tonight. Robin picked them and said for me to force you to watch it even if you try and be nice and put me out of my misery.” Steve then spreads out the array of movies Robin has chosen.

“Yes! Like I would stop these movies from playing. You got into this job by saying the Star Wars with the teddy bears. You need to at least see the movie once so maybe you can remember the name Ewok so you can impress Dustin.” Lucy says as she holds up the Star Wars movies with an Indiana Jones squeezed in for good measure. “She left us Indie so that you can have a break. I have a feeling you are going to relate a bit to the adventurer knowing the stories Dustin tells Eddie.”

“He talks about me to him?!”

“Yeah, Stevie. You’re his idol. Like the big brother, he never had. Just don’t tell him I let it slip and we can have a bit more of a break than Indie.”

“Deal.” As he says this the popcorn starts popping and Steve gets out the bowl.

————————

“Why do the teddy bears have spears?”

“Because George Lucas and Co wanted something cute and fluffy to sell to the little kids but badass to sell to the older ones. Now watch the movie.” Lucy says as she grabs some popcorn from God knows how many bowls. On each side of the sofa, they have spread out one to two bottles of Yoo-hoo each. Lucy plops her head down on Steve’s shoulder and they attack the clones.

At this point, it is well into the night. The duo has watched the other two Star Wars movies with Steve asking questions along the way and Lucy answering them without spoiling anything. When they get their Indiana Jones, and the Raider of the Lost Ark break Steve asks fewer questions, but it is clear from the two Harrison Ford performances he enjoys the simplicity of a professor turned adventurer.

“Thanks for putting up with this Stevie.” She says softly.

“I’m not putting up with anything. I mean would I choose Star Wars any day of the week? No, but I haven’t been able to spend time with you on one as I have with Robin since Starcourt, and well… I have missed you.”

“Aww Stevie! I didn’t know you missed me and our closing shift shenanigans.” She says as she looks at him slightly laughing. They lock eyes for a few seconds. Lucy then stops laughing as the air begins to get tense. Steve slowly begins to lean in, and Lucy follows.

Right as they are about to close their eyes a sharp set of knocks is heard at the door. Steve and Lucy jump back away from each other and Steve runs for the door. When he is out of eyesight Lucy gives the biggest sigh and curls up on herself covering her face with her hands, her blonde wild hair blocking the rest of her face.

“Stupid…” She says to herself.

“Good evening. We heard reports that Lucy Munson was here.” At this, she gets up and walks to the entryway.

“Yeah. Here I am-“ She sees immediately the flashing lights and the silhouettes of two police officers. “Oh. Sorry. Is there something I can help with?”

“We are going to need you to come with us.”

“Why?”

“We can’t say.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want with her but if she needs an alibi she has been here since the early evening.” At this, the officers go back to their cars and talk to each other. They then quickly come back.

“Ms. Munson your home is a crime scene. I recommend you find somewhere else to stay for a while.” The officer says.

“She’ll be here as long as it is,” Steve says as he gently pulls Lucy back towards him.

“If you hear even a peep from your brother, call the station.”

“Yes officer…” Lucy says softly as Steve gives a nod and shuts the door after waving.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck.” Lucy says to herself as she starts to grab her stuff.

“Hey! You can’t just leave. It makes you look guilty and may lead them to your brother.”

“You’re right. I hate that.” Lucy says as she stops what she is doing. “But I can’t just stand here. Eddie is a soft soul.” Steve gives her a look. “Deeeeeep down. He is a little scaredy cat who couldn’t hurt a fly. He needs to be calmed down because he is losing his mind right now.”

“We can worry about this tomorrow. First, we need to sleep. You can take the guest room. I’ll show you where it is.” Steve then helps her grab her stuff and takes it upstairs.

On the bed is a large shirt and pants folded. “I uh keep this place ready in case anyone is in a tight spot. Guess it paid off.” Steve says as he puts her stuff on the floor next to the bed.

“Yeah. Thanks, Stevie.” She says as she gives him a hug.

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal. Let’s get some sleep and find your brother tomorrow.” Lucy gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight kiss. For good luck.” Steve gently goes and closes the door before he responds.

Lucy groans in embarrassment as she flops into the bed.

“Now let’s find Eddie.” She sinks into the bed as she closes her eyes. Eventually, she sinks further into the bed until she is past it and in a black plane. She walks along the surface of the black water below her and she looks around. Eventually, she finds Eddie lying down in a canoe curled up and asleep. She runs over to him before placing her hands to cradle his head before entering his mind.

The first thing she hears is Eddie. She feels the sheets on his bed as she springs up.

“Chrissy wakes up!” He says as she convulses with glazed-over eyes. He starts to shake her and snap at her. “I don’t like this! Chrissy wakes up!” At this, she rises into the air and her bones start to snap and contort.

“Eddie,” Lucy says before she grabs him and the scene in front of them changes to a typical evening with Eddie playing his guitar and Lucy in the living room listening as she works on her homework.

“Lucy! Chrissy she-“ Eddie says as he is hyperventilating and crying.

“I know. Cops came by to try and take me in,” she says as she drags him into a hug and sits him down. “Now let’s calm down and listen to your practice.”

“Where are you?! Are you safe?”

“Yes. I am at Steve’s house and can stay there for now. Let’s focus on you. The press hasn’t gotten to the story yet and the police officers haven’t officially started the manhunt… but I have a feeling that are going to do that soon. You can’t let them catch you.”

“Well, I am hiding out at Refer Rick’s place. Please try and bring me food or something. I am getting hungry. I was planning to have Chrissy over for dinner before she left but well-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I just saw you didn’t do anything. We can say here if you like to get some rest. I’ll try and bring something by tomorrow. I’m gonna guess some snacks, easy-to-make meals, and yoo-hoos?”

“That sounds great. Thanks. For the future food run and this.” Eddie says as he gestures around to the scene.

“No problem. I’ve been trying to help Max out at night with her dreams, so I have had a bit of practice lately.” Eddie then looks concerned.

“Is that why you have been so tired lately?”

“It has been a bit taxing doing it every night, but I should be fine and so should you. We are technically resting.” She says with a laugh. “Now, which memories should we dive into this night.”

—————————-

Lucy looks like a zombie as she reorganizes the movies recently turned in.

“Are you ok?”

“No….” Lucy moans out as she accidentally drops her tape in her hands causing her to bend down and pick it back up.

“Did you have a sleepless night?”

“Not in that way. Nightmares.” Lucy says as she rubs her eyes.

“You mean you didn’t take the opportunity I gave you?”

“Yes and no. We can talk about this later when I can think.” Lucy says as she shooed off Robin. Lucy continues to clean up around the store. A violent clang can be heard from the front of the store.

“Where is she, Steve?”

“Who?” Steve asks as Lucy moves to the front of the store.

“Her. Lucy, I need your help. Your brother he is being framed-“

“I know.”

“I need your help to find him so we can find out what happened and what sort of being we are dealing with now.”

“Are you saying the Upside Down is open again?”

“So far doesn’t seem like it but our creature may just be for this section of the campaign.”

“Dustin, I know you love my brother, but he is the DND player. Speak Common to me.”

“He is the key to this whole mystery.”

“Hey. You help me get him food and I can help you find him.”

“Deal.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve asks as he blocks the front of the counter.

“No. My brother is starving. Look. We can either do this with your help or Dustin and I can walk on over to where he is and who knows what may happen to us.”

“Fine. Now how do we even find a guy like that?”

“Easy. You have talked through a scenario like this before and you pre-planned this. I mean we thought it would be me on the run, but it works.” Lucy then jumps to the counter and starts using the customer database. “Just need to get a house number really quick.”

“Hey, this is private customer data.”

“And I am an employee Stevie,” Lucy says with a wink as she types in the name she needs. “Now let’s get my brother.”

“I have some other-“

“Fine. I am going myself. Dustin, you stay back and keep bothering this guy and your friends to help. I think we have another incident.” Lucy says as she checks the time and nods to herself before she goes into the back to change and leave.

As she opens the door she is greeted with a stark white wall. As she turns back the hallway continues to a door with no handles. She feels a weight on her face and feels it realizing there is a muzzle over her mouth. Lining the hallway are similar doors but each has a number. She starts to walk forward. As she does the sound of a clock chimes in the distance as the laughter of children rings out from behind the door at the end of the hallway she is walking down. As she continues down the hall the laughing turns into screams and cracks can be heard. Thumps sound from behind the door as she gets closer. The lights start to flicker. She reaches for her door, her fingertips brushing it before she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns around quickly and winds up ready to punch.

“Lucy? Are you ok?” Steve asks as he backs up to space himself away from her threat of violence.

Y-yeah… just worried about my brother… I-I need to go.” She says as she wipes her nose and rushes off. Dustin tries to stop her, but Lucy looks at him with a look that makes him hesitant long enough for her to leave.

——-

After a while, Lucy appears from the gas station with a bag full of snacks and microwaveable food. She seems very shaken up as she huffs to herself. She starts her walk to Rick’s house, but she hears a car screech down the road. Eventually, she can hear familiar arguing as it whips by and eventually stops further down the road.

“Finally…” Lucy says to herself as she jogs forward.

“Get in,” Dustin says loudly as she gets closer.

“I call trunk,” Lucy says excitedly through labored breaths as she walks around to the back and pops the trunk.

“Don’t you dare! You’ll mess up-“

“Stevie sweetie you have to chill. I’ll ride-“ she looks at the crowd for a second. “…uhhh hump.” Dustin gets out and Lucy squeezes in before Steve drives off.

“So… Lucy…” Dustin says as he seems concerned. “How are you doing?”

“As good as can be considering my brother is being framed for murder.” She laughs. “But other than that, I am peachy.”

“Welp, I tried.”

“Hey! She is going through a lot here. She is the sister of a killer going through a mental break!” Robin pipes in from the front.

“He is framed.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” As Lucy says this she looks down at her hands and notices them shaking. She starts fiddling her fingers and clasping her hands. As she does this Dustin pats her on the shoulder.

“Eddie does that when he is nervous about something. You’re going to be ok. Eddie is going to be ok.”

“I know. Eddie and I did discuss this whole plan a while ago and he seems to be following it perfectly.”

“Why do you have a plan for this?!” Dustin looks at her like she has grown an extra leg.

“We are the children of a criminal. Of course, we need an escape plan.” Lucy looks at Dustin with a hurt expression.

“Munson’s…” Steve chimes in from the front causing Lucy to lean forward into Robin and Steve’s space.

“You got something to say, Stevie?” She says as she leans in close to whisper. “You didn’t seem too bothered by it yesterday.” She then pats the side of the seat as Steve freezes unable to respond. “Aww come on. That wasn’t even the worst thing I could say.” She says with a laugh as she leans back into her seat having Max and Dustin look at her bewildered.

“So, what did you grab for your brother?” Max asks trying to brush past everything.

“All the essentials. Some water, some chocolate milk, some snacks, some meals… enough to last a few days before he has to start begging.” She says as she shows the boys.

“This is an amazing haul of food.”

“Yep. Figured if it is good enough for a child to enjoy it should be able to satisfy Eddie.” She says with a laugh as she closes the bag.

———————-

They pull into Rick's driveway at night. Lucy reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a flashlight as she climbs over Max.

“Hey!”

“Sorry! Got places to be!” She clicks on the flashlight and runs off towards the house. She tries the door and realizes it is locked. She then remembers the night before with Eddie being in a canoe. “Right. Wrong building.” She says to herself as she clicks off her flashlight and runs over to the boathouse. She tries the door there and finds it locked. She starts trying to jimmy it.

“Lucy? Where did you go?” Steve calls out into the night. Lucy sighs as she holds her hand in front of the door. She hears a click from the door and pretends to have physically done something to the door instead of what she did when Steve appears again next to her.

“Going with the plan Stevie.” She says with a sing-song voice. She then opens the door. “Benefits of being a child of a criminal.” She gestures to the open door for them to go inside.

She begins to walk her way in when suddenly she enters the doorway to the white hallway again.

In the real world, her friends continue searching for her brother, unaware of what is happening due to the darkness. Steve begins stabbing around with an oar until Eddie lunges at him with a broken beer bottle. Everyone starts panicking.

“Lucy a little help,” Dustin says as he turns around to her to find her still with her eyes glazed over and her nose bleeding as she looks on.

“No! Not you too!” Eddie rushes over and starts trying to wake her up. “Please don’t do this to me. Not now.”

Lucy hears none of this as she suddenly snaps back to the real world, her blue eyes returning to normal. “What the fuck?” She looks around confused and scared as she tries to calm her breathing. “Where?” Before she can continue Eddie continues to shake her. “Stop it! I am fine for now!” She grabs her brother’s shoulders to stop him. That is when she notices he is almost crying.

“Eddie. I’m not going to be sacrificed. I’m more final girl material anyway.” She adds the joke at the end, but he isn’t laughing. At this, she drops her fake smile and tightly grips his right shoulder as she talks to him in his head.

“What did I tell you on that day? I’m not leaving you alone as long as you will let me hang around.” She then smiles on the outside as she severed the connection. “Now can we all sit down and figure out what the hell is going on?” She says as she guides her brother to sit down.

Others try to touch him, but he backs off still very jittery. Lucy is in a similar state, but she is holding herself together a bit more. Most people are questioning Eddie, but Steve comes over to check on her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?”

“I don’t know. I guess it made it real.” Lucy says with a hollow laugh.

“How long have they been happening?” There is a sadness and fear in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve been dealing with what I saw in that place as a nightmare. The whole thing happening when I am awake thing is new though. Like maybe a few days? Yeah, that sounds right. It was the reason you almost took one to the face earlier today.” She smiles but it looks uneasy. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s ok. You’re cursed right now according to your brother and the kids.” Steve seems to think about something for a second before he nods to himself. “I was wondering if you could tell me what exactly is going on when you are in there?” At this, Lucy seems to sink back into the past. Like she is physically there but mentally somewhere else.

“A time and place I am never going back to. The only people who know about it… they aren’t around anymore besides Eddie.” She realizes something. “Wait… that’s not right…” she then winces as it feels like a spike drove into her skull. She sees a flash of three people. Angry blue eyes, scared brown eyes, and dead grayish eyes. “Ugh, that’s not right either. I think I need sleep. That will help with the whole gaps in memory thing?”

“Or it will bring you closer to whatever is happening,” Steve says looking at her with worry.

“Don’t worry my valiant knight. I’m confident that you’ll find a way to save me in time. You have a surprisingly good record of getting to places just in time with solutions and you better not change that now otherwise I am haunting your ass.” Steve smiles unsure as he offers his hand to help her up which she takes.

Lucy looks over to Max and sees a sad sense of understanding. Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes what it means. She is not the only one in danger.

#oc #stranger things #original character #steve harington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x oc

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arcsimper5 · 7 months

Text

Clone's night out at the funfair!

After a frankly hilarious discussion with @dukeoftheblackstar this morning, I'd like to propose a Clone's day out at the funfair!

Setting:

The war is over! The Clones have their freedom, and their General's decide it's time to let loose!

Who knew Palpatine was deathly allergic to seafood? Certainly not Fox, who bought him a lovingly made prawn cocktail sandwich. So sad. R.I.P. Anyway.

The funfair has descended on Coruscant, and it's open to all!

What are your boys doing?

OC's welcome too!

Hardcase is being physically restrained from jumping in the cotton candy machine by Dogma and Kix. It won't end well for a number of reasons, but the glint of chaos in Case's eyes is enough for them to jump into action and stop his rampage before it's even begun.

🍭

Echo and Fives are lost in the mirror maze. One of them is crying. Rex would help, but he's currently sat on a bench with a cold one, live-tweeting the entire thing to Cody, who refused to come, knowing the chaos that would ensue.

🪩

Plo decided to enjoy the bumper cars. Wolffe, Boost and Sinker decided that anyone who even came near their General was going to be bumpered into oblivion.

🚗

Waxer and Boil are arguing over what the best food truck is. Waxer is currently slapping Boil's hand away every time he tries to grab some of his purchased good while the latter pouts.

🍲

Jesse is desperately trying to win the strong man hammer game while Wrecker watches and laughs, only serving to make Jesse hit it harder while the old lady owner watches in horror.

🔨

Crosshair had won every single prize from the shooting games within 5 minutes of arriving. Omega is now a walking stuffy collection, her squeals of delight echoing around the entire fair.

🧸

Tup is being followed by some Nat-born women, completely out of his depth and looking for Fives while pretending not to be overwhelmed. He's planning to break for the ferris wheel and just ride it until he can spot his vod again.

🎡

Feel free to add your own! 😊

#star wars #tcw #the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #arc trooper fives #tbb #captain rex #tcw fives #clone shenanigans #clone slice of life #tcw hardcase #tcw kix #tcw jesse #Clone nonsense #The clones #tcw headcanons

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zoeykallus · 1 year

Note

How would the Bad Batch + Fives + Rex, celebrate Hallowern, or the Star Wars equivalent with their s/o?

Okay, one more Halloween thing.... :D

The Bad Batch + Fives + Rex x Reader HC's - Celebrating Halloween

Warnings: None

Hunter

He carved pumpkins with you, in all sizes. Yet another opportunity to show off his knife skill a little. You have to chuckle as he does his elaborate moves and gives you a wink. Hunter can be really corny, in a sweet way.

He loves the idea of taking a walk outside, looking at all the decorations in the neighborhood and getting some fresh air. Hunter even dresses up in a costume for you if you ask him to.

After the walk, you two come home to hot chocolate and a bunch of old Horror movies. He's into the classics, Exorcist, The Thing, Alien, Rosemarie's Baby and such flicks. Of course, he got his arm around you the whole evening, holding you close, warm and safe under a blanket.

Echo

He carved pumpkins with you and because nothing should go to waste, he cooked the most amazing pumpkin soup you've ever tasted. Echo is one hell of a cook.

He helps you to decorate and has a lot of candy ready, in case some kids ring your doorbell, or Wrecker comes over for a visit.

It's a sweet and calm evening, mostly. With good food and some family friendly Halloween movies. You sooner or later sit on your couch with a hot bowl of Echo's superb pumpkin soup and watch some of those funny movies he picked.

Wrecker

Once again, he is hyped! Halloween is such a fun time for Wrecker. The costumes, the candy, the horror flicks, he loves it all. His carved pumpkins look a little crude, but he made them with love.

He's wearing a costume himself, of course, and he goes trick or treating. Wrecker is taking Omega with him, as an alibi. Last year he tried it alone, people were pretty freaked out about the huge Frankenstein knocking on their doors.

When he comes back, you two watch movies and eat the candy he got on his run. Don't expect to see much of the candy, though, Wrecker eats pretty fast.

Tech

He thinks the idea is cute, but it's too much of a fuzz for him. He most likely will disconnect your doorbell, get some good food for the two of you, and wrap you in a blanket with him on the couch.

Watching horror movies is not that much fun with him, though. He talks a lot about practical effects and such. If you gently let him know that he's spoiling the fun for you, he'll keep it at a minimum. But be soft and gentle about it. He just loves to share his knowledge and thoughts with you. If you are rude about it, he might feel really hurt.

Crosshair

He thinks it's nonsense, but secretly loves it. He does everything, from carving pumpkins, to decorate and wearing a costume, plus watching horror movies with you. Crosshair does it all with the occasional eye roll, but he actually likes this time of year as well as he likes Halloween itself.

Don't try to make him admit that, it'll only lead to a fight or him retreating. He'll come out about it some day.

Fives

He's all in, probably convincing you to make a big party and invite everyone over for a costume party. He'll be organizing Halloween themed snacks, carving pumpkins and asks Echo to make his awesome pumpkin soup.

Fives loves parties, and he loves Halloween. Decorating, wearing a costume and jump scare his brothers are just a few of the things he does on Halloween.

Rex

You like Halloween? Well, he's open for it if it makes you happy. Carving pumpkins with you, decorating and watching scary movies. Rex is wearing a costume too, just to make you smile.

He won't invite his brothers over, though, he knows it'll end in chaos. Rex rather spends his Halloween time with you alone, watching movies, snacking candy and cuddling up with you on the couch.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@puppetswithteeth

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padawansuggest · 2 years

Text

Clone Empire still but that post is too big now and I can’t keep clogging everyone up with it so follow the tag.

Gree and Luminara are like a well settled married couple with a kid, who end up pregnant very soon after the wedding (lmao I just think Lum getting pregnant would be cute cause lol I’m insane and I think she’s very beautiful and would look gorgeous pregnant lol don’t ask me more) and it’s nice. Lum is a very mature person who’s gonna run her family very well. She’s a good cook and (unlike Kenobi who lets his kids eat off the floor) likes making natural organic snacks for them. Gree is like an average father. And that’s not bad, I mean he’s like the Home Depot Theme Song of dads. He’s gonna learn to fix things and will be very attentive to his kids (he knows when to say sorry, or just buy them their fave candy/a new game console) and learns how to grill. He likes cuddling with Barriss while they watch her shows and gives Ahsoka suspicious looks when she comes to pick her up for their dates. It’s cute.

Aayla and Bly, on the other hand, are the twink version of that. Aayla likes parties and dancing and surprises and 3am road trips funded by theft. She is Quinlan’s daughter through and through, and she was the most feared GAR general for a reason. But mainly she’s just bubbly and cute. She’s Anakin’s big sister tbh! Bly is a puppy in love and willing to follow her to hell and back. He wants to take her name when they get married (obviously, considering the clones don’t have last names, lmao) and go to war together. It’s cute.

Obi-Wan is acearo. And Cody is acearo. Which means they are platonic life partners who like to cuddle. The cuddling together is about the closest they get to romance. They sorta flip flop back and forth ‘maybe we are in love? No wait, holding hands feels good, but kissing made us too nervous, but Alpha says you don’t have to kiss yo be in love, but dates sounds like actual hell,’ and they keep flip flopping over details. What they have, is of a nature, romance, but they’re weirded out and settled on platonic life partners. They cuddle and sleep in the same bed, that’s enough for them. Obi-Wan wouldn’t cuddle with Cody or sleep with him after the Empire came up but that’s cause he was in this spiral of self loathing and confusion and martyrdom, and didn’t really settle down till Alpha told him, point blank, if he needs a downside to accept that he’ll be taken care of, he’ll just have to accept that he no longer has a choice of things, and the clones are keeping him whether he wants to go or not. It makes Obi-Wan sorta needy and tired so he lets Alpha pet his hair and call him a good boy. He’s slowly accepting that the clones are taking care of them all by accepting that he doesn’t get a say in it.

The children and padawans are almost all 100% okay with things because they’re following the will of the force and they know the force wants this. Also, they love the clones! They play games with them and give tickles! The clone cadets they bring to the temple to grow up with them are super nice and ask to join their sleep piles and it’s really comfy.

#clone empire #star wars #clone wars #luminara unduli #commander gree #barriss offee #obi wan kenobi #aayla secura #commander bly #codywan #alphobi #Cody is his partner but alpha is in charge of them #he likes getting them all subby and soft to play with #alphody

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out-of-order2time · 2 years

Text

I Am Mine (Rex x Reader Series)

Prelude - You tell Rex you're pregnant...

You're pregnant, Rex is the father. Although you strive for discretion and secrecy, the Kaminoans catch wind of it. To keep the situation under control, they report the incident and issue an investigation for high treason against you: In the name of the Republic, the Kaminoans claim the unborn as their property and accuse you of collaborating with the Separatists to obtain the clones' DNA and weaken the army by emotionally manipulating the soldiers. Rex is forced to choose a side and thus decide what he wants to fight for - his duty or his heart.

Chapter One - How it started, how it's going

Rex is still torn about how to feel about your pregnancy and has struggles figuring out how (or if) to approach you.

Warnings: Reader's pregnant and a surgeon, there's a war - Since I tend to miss things, I give a general trigger warning on anything related to these topics. From my perception, I didn't get too graphic or detailed, but there are injuries, treatments, pregnancy symptoms, etc. I may or may not have gotten creative with my interpretation of medicine/health care in Star Wars - canon fans, I'm sorry, please forgive me. Apart from that, it's possible that I got a little lost in character background...

-------------

Rex lingers in front of a closed door that leads to one of the treatment rooms in the Resolute’s med bay, gazing at you through the glass in the wall and wrestling with himself whether he should enter or leave. With a contemplative face, he is fidgeting a fudge-filled candy bar in his hands. The wrapper's shiny foil crackles, and he feels the chocolate slowly soften under the warmth of his fingers.

It's been two weeks since you told him about your pregnancy, and getting aggressively drunk was the first thing he did afterwards to numb the immediate perplexity and confusion, resulting in the worst hangover he's ever had. Once the headache passed, he found back into soldier mode to take upon the perplexity the most reliable way he knows—getting more intel.

That's why he downloaded a book from the HoloNet, read it twice, and deleted it from the datapad to make sure no one would find out. It's not that he didn't know anything about the subject, but the situation warranted some deeper exposure with it.

“I’m taking care of the situation. Don’t worry about it,” is how you finished the conversation in your kitchen before you sent him on his way.

However, after reading the book, he absolutely worries. As a doctor, you may not be directly involved in combat, but you pull the same incredible hours as everyone else in the 501st. Doing that while your body is trying to grow a person seems almost superhuman. Rex has been watching you and knows that you haven't slowed down for a moment so far. But he can tell you’re struggling.

You smell like peppermint from constantly chewing refreshment drops. Probably because you secretly throw up a lot and want to eliminate the nasty taste that remains. When you think no one is looking, you tug at your bra over your shirt because of sore, swelling breasts, as Rex guesses after reading the book. Occasionally, he sees you contorting your face, placing a hand on your lower abdomen, and taking a strained breath. Cramps, presumably. If you’re not sitting, you are leaning against something. A sign of exhaustion. Still, he thinks you handle yourself like a warrior. If he didn't consciously pay attention to all that, he probably wouldn't notice anything.

Fully aware that he has his fair share of responsibility in your trouble, Rex’s hand tightens around the soft chocolate bar, which adjusts its shape to his grip. By swiping a dozen ration bars from the supplies and trading them in a side street on the Lower Levels, he got the candy just before the 501st has left Coruscant.

The book told him that cravings are a thing, especially during the first trimester, and he wanted to be prepared to help out if needed. There have been a few opportunities to slip you the bar, but Rex has let each one pass so far. Something is holding him back. So he carries the thing around hidden somewhere in his gear, where it melts and hardens again, melts and hardens again… Countless times during the latest infiltration mission with Fives, Jesse, and Commander Tano.

They’ve just returned, and Rex hasn't slept in pretty much eighty-nine hours (made possible by stim-packs) but is itching to check on how you're holding up after his debriefing with General Skywalker. Just a short glance from a distance without exchanging words or even touch to avoid raising suspicion, for you’re hardly ever found alone as Chief Medical Officer.

However, right now, you are; sitting cross-legged on a gurney, clad in scrubs of the 501st’s blue and wearing your hair in a loose bun. Your left elbow is propped on your thigh with your chin resting on your hand, while the other flips through the gray journal you carry around pretty much all the time.

You're so absorbed in the pages in your lap that you're unaware of Rex's presence. Because of the distance, he can’t tell for sure, but there's probably a pair of speaker buds in your ears playing music because your torso is slightly rocking from side to side as if following a beat. When you're focused, you bite your bottom lip, like you're doing now. Rex thinks it looks sexy.

You prefer to take on the complicated injuries yourself because you think you're more skilled than any machine (rightly so); however the medical care in the Resolute's sick bay is fully automated. So you often have downtime between missions and use the hours to teach rotating groups of medics. Further developing their skills and knowledge is one of your primary responsibilities.

Together you review past missions or challenging cases of your pre-army career, give the medics brainteasers or discuss advanced anatomy of other species than humans, show new techniques or brainstorm on how to improve protocols, roleplay to sharpen the medics' communication skills so they can provide better care for civilian patients. Sometimes you rally them up in a circle to tell the stories of your best, worst, or funniest experiences as a physician; then, you invite everyone to share theirs.

Rex occasionally stops by to check if “everything runs smoothly,” but that’s just an excuse because he loves watching you teach. More than half the time, he may not be sure what you and the medics are discussing, but there's no doubt that you love what you do. When you explain the peculiarities of an organ or a certain enzyme, your eyes sparkle, and your voice resonates with rapture. Rex has seen some instructors in his time but never anyone like you, which isn't that big of a surprise, considering the story of how you got hired as Chief Medical Officer.

It's as wild and chaotic as the reputation of General Anakin Skywalker itself.

About eight standard months ago, he went MIA for a couple of weeks after crashing a fighter because Separatist forces gunned him down during a space battle. With the first strike, the vessel’s navigation and communication systems failed, making it impossible to locate the crash site. Recon units narrowed the search scope down to four planets while considering it equally possible that the ship's heat shields had failed, causing the entire thing to vaporize upon entering any atmosphere.

Legend has it that the Jedi Council was just debating on how to proceed in the matter - continue the search or abandon it and declare the general dead - when a holocom call, received by Obi-Wan Kenobi's device, interrupted the meeting. On the other end of the connection - General Anakin Skywalker, who apologized for the radio silence. From a bed and wrapped in bandages, with his face swollen and covered in fading, greenish bruises.

He claimed to have been impaled thrice upon the crash (stomach, left hip, and right shoulder); hence, he couldn’t reach out earlier. "You may forgive the delay, Masters. It's convenient, though, that you're all together,” Anakin allegedly continued. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce…”

That someone was you, a young surgeon working for an independent crisis response organization in a refugee camp that lacked, well, everything.

Once you realized that the newest patient on your improvised ward was a general of the Grand Army, you spent every spare minute at his bedside explaining in detail (and unsolicited) why the Republic's health care would soon collapse, and the war fail if the military continued to operate as it did.

For a civilian, you had an astonishing number of views.

You kept refusing to inform officials on Coruscant of the whereabouts and condition of their general, determined to let him live through what had become the norm for countless individuals everywhere.

That experience included not having access to a bacta tank or any other contemporary equipment and, consequently, an agonizingly slow healing process that reminded Anakin of how vulnerable and fragile his human body is. Due to a shortage of proper medication, he went through horrible pain and was on the verge of a deadly infection for several days, helplessly dependent on you, your skills, and a small team of volunteers.

“I’ve told you who I am,” Anakin gasped in a hoarse voice after the fourth major surgery about a week after his crash. His muscles trembled from a high fever and two external fixators at his shoulder and hip – pieced together with material from his fighter’s scrap – kept his skeleton in place for his shattered bones to grow back properly. “I’ve told you who to contact. Let them know where I am, and they’ll pick me up. What you’re doing is torture.”

You held an ice cube to his lips to moisten his dry mouth. He was unable to drink because the breathing tube necessary for anesthesia left him with difficulty in swallowing. “What we’re doing is saving your life. I am sorry when it causes discomfort, but I assure you I’m treating you like everyone else and doing all I can.”

He scoffed. “If you did all you could, you’d make that fucking call already.”

“As I said, I’m treating you like everyone else. Your injuries are bad, but I see worse in camps like this – believe it or not. Many don’t make it. I can’t make a call for any of them; I’m not gonna make a call for you.”

“I am a Jedi Knight, General of the 501st Legion, and you’re holding me hostage.”

“Sorry, pulling rank does not work here. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another patient who, FYI, is free to leave anytime.”

“The Republic needs me to fight. Keeping me here hampers the war success.”

Only a tiny bit of the ice cube was left at this point of the conversation. You pushed the frozen chunk of water between his teeth to let it dissolve on Anakin's tongue. Then you wiped your hands on the white fabric of your coat and shoved them into the side pockets. “Well, if that’s true and the outcome of this war is bound to the destiny of a single person, we’re in far deeper trouble than I feared.”

Technically, you did treat Anakin differently. If a patient of less status had asked you to contact their family to bring them home, you would have done anything in your power to make it happen. However, at this point, more than one year into the war and after publishing half a dozen papers on how the situation in refugee camps indicated that a system crash was inevitable, you were fed up. No chance you would let Anakin leave after you’ve finally had someone responsible in your hands.

This was your way of making a stand. To make him look. To make him listen. To make him feel. To make him care. And it worked.

During his first few days of clear consciousness, Anakin was firmly convinced to have fallen under the power of a mad vigilante who had condemned him to a slow, harrowing death. However, as the pain faded and his body gradually recovered with each passing day, he began to understand. You did, in fact, not only take good care of him, you took excellent care. He got to witness how hard you work and what you're capable of, what you, your team, and the patients must go through every day. Without the backup of an army or any senator.

So, he believed you knew what you were talking about when you gave him your points. He was still pissed off about being bedridden, yet impressed - by your skills as a doctor, but even more by your stamina as a person. You won his respect and his promise to get you an audience with the Jedi Council.

That’s when you gave in and asked one of the volunteers to bring a holocom device to let Anakin call Coruscant at last.

“Are you kidding me?” He rolled his eyes – partly in honest annoyance, partly joking. “Now you’re changing your mind? After you left me lying here for who knows how long with a tube in my you-know-what to pee in a bottle? If you wanted to speak to the Council, you could’ve just said so. I would have been open to a deal."

"I suppose." You settled at the edge of his bed, as you had so many times since his crash. A smile rested upon your lips. “I didn't want a deal, though. After all, there’s a big difference between doing something as a bargain to get your way and doing something because it deems you right. It had to be your idea.”

Your experience with authorities taught you that deficits are usually tolerated until shit hits the fan. So, you didn't really expect that giving the Jedi Council a talk would change anything. You were all about venting, letting out everything that's been bugging you since med school.

"The medical profession has been withering away for so long that most people aren't even aware that it is," was how you started your rant. "It took a wrong turn centuries ago by placing its entire future on the development of devices, drugs, and machines while forgetting the value of the craft and artistry. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m as grateful for all the miracle-working stuff as everyone else, but there was a critical shift in how we perceive health ever since we’ve found like three drugs that work for pretty much everything. Nowadays, the whole galaxy depends on the same effective yet limited options. That system worked when we had peace – well, not perfectly but reliably enough to stagnate. However, it was never built to sustain a war of this magnitude. When this conflict erupted, the Republic was well-stocked, but currently, we're consuming supplies way, way faster than we can produce refills, aren't we? The Senate may negotiate however good deals and reorder however much, but that doesn't help because resources and production capacities are limited. We all have to face reality. Suppliers and manufacturers will not be able to fulfill their contracts, even if they claim otherwise. Deliveries will fail. The system will collapse. We’re not quite there yet, but we’re spiraling towards the breaking point with light speed. Once reached, we will have to face casualties beyond imagination. Diabetes. Asthma. Infections. Even Allergies. The simplest and most primitive conditions will become lethal again. But don’t worry – the Jedi will be fine, as will the army and the leaders and the rich because y’all have the financial means to get by. But most people don’t—and I’m talking about roughly eighty percent of the galaxy’s population. Myards of lives will be destroyed. And that’s something you can’t talk away in an assembly or shoot with a blaster or compensate with more regulations.”

You talked yourself into such a frenzy that your cheeks burned. You had to pause to catch your breath.

Mace Windu took the opportunity to interject. “Thank you for your insight. I assure you, I appreciate your concern, Miss-“

“It’s Doctor, actually.”

“Of course. However, Doctor, you're surrounded by very special conditions; they’re unpleasant but an exception. You don’t see anything else; hence, I think you might overestimate these issues due to a high emotional investment that impedes you from seeing the whole picture.“

You frowned. "Well, to me, you seem a little too ignorant to see the whole picture. I can always use volunteers if you want to broaden your horizon. Care to swing by?" Master Windu drew breath to answer, but you waved him off before he could utter a sound. "As someone who grew up in the Outer Rims, I can assure you that there are many places in the galaxy where medical care has never been good. But since this war started, it's become more and more disastrous. Do you have any idea what the army's great demand for equipment and medicine is doing to the market? How prices are skyrocketing? Far too often, alcohol is the only painkiller I have. Even if I have to perform amputations on children."

You had to pause and take a few deep breaths to chase away the memories of tormented wailing and screaming.

"At least, I still learned how to do these procedures with my hands. There aren't a lot of people left who did. As I’ve told you, the medical profession is dying. Medi-droids and bacta tanks have made that almost obsolete. Hence, most doctors are useless these days. Truth is, the vast majority of the people I studied with never intended to practice medicine. They’ve ended up on the payroll of some aristocrat or other rich snob. You know why? Doctors of flesh and blood are a status symbol. We’re a decoration representing power—a privilege with the only purpose of showing off and the demand to make clients as immortal as possible. That's what most doctors are worried about: how to make a few individuals older and older while the rest of the galaxy gets left behind. Clinics everywhere are hopelessly overworked as we're speaking, and it’s going to get worse. I can only emphasize it once more: the infrastructure of our health care was not designed for intergalactic war. It can only withstand so much. It will crash. And when it does, we all know who will be thrown at the problem because that seems to be the Republic’s solution for everything in this war. Are your men prepared for what General Skywalker has witnessed and experienced here?”

In total, your rant went on for almost two more hours. Occasionally interrupted by a coding patient that needed attention.

You made no effort whatsoever to be polite or diplomatic in phrasing your remarks, which amused Anakin. He watched the whole spectacle unfold from his bed, grinning broadly and rooting for you. The young Jedi Knight found your attitude refreshing, almost charming, and could not deny that you made some excellent points.

You, however, were glad that this meeting took place from a safe distance via holocom. In the same room and face to face with the Council, you probably would have been too intimidated to make your points coherently and with such vigor.

When you finished, your knees were shaking, and your pores sweated through your clothes. An awkward silence dwelled upon the scene.

The Jedi masters made thoughtful faces while you exhaled soundly through your mouth and propped yourself with both hands on your thighs. You felt the urge to sit down as if you had finally handed over an unbearable burden and were yet to readjust to your actual weight. When the call ended, you could finally breathe freely for the first time in months. A couple of weeks went by. Anakin was back with the army and the Jedi Order; you had moved on to the next refugee camp on the next planet when he reached out via a holocom transmission.

“Hello there, General,” you greeted the blue flickering projection. “I almost didn’t recognize you without metal sticking out of your body. You recovered well after you left us?”

“Way faster than under your care, for sure,” he laughed, folding his hands behind his head. “How you’re holding up?”

“Nah…” You stretched your back and let your spine crack several times to demonstrate your physical fatigue. “I need a drink, a man, and a massage. But we’re getting by, somehow. One day at a time, you know. How about you? Any complaints?”

“A proposition, actually,” he answered. “You left a lasting impression on the Council the other day. Some even read your papers.”

Smirking, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Good for them. They are excellently written.”

“Well, Obi-Wan thinks they’re a little repetitive.” “Yeah, that’s the point I was trying to make. So, I stand by my statement.”

Anakin chuckled. “Anyway, you pointed out some blind spots we weren’t able to perceive from our perspective. That set things in motion. The Council and the Senate are considering a pilot project to address that, and they need a specialist to head the initiative. Someone with first-hand experience in dealing with a reality we all hope won't become the galactic standard.”

“I think I see where this is going...”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet, but you’re a candidate, yes. A coveted one, in fact. I assume the job is yours if you want it. There’s still some way to go, of course, background checks, fitness test, some basic training, but there’s a good chance you can shape the project at your convenience because, honestly, they all seem a little lost in the matter. Any chance you'll be traveling to Coruscant anytime soon to discuss details?”

“Sorry, not gonna happen. You've seen first-hand how these camps operate. I can’t leave to take another position.”

Anakin tilted his head from side to side. “I’m sorry to tell you that, but you can’t back down. I witnessed everything, and there was a subtext of ‘Put me in charge and let me fix it, bitches’ in every word you said. You made a fuss; now you’re asked to step up and do something about it. After all, don't I remember you saying something about doing things because they deem you right...?”

You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face. “I hate it when people use my logic against me.”

“Just tell me what the camp needs to spare you. We’ll figure something out.”

Rex knows only some details of this story, but it was enough for him to sigh deeply when his general informed him that you got assigned to the 501st to launch the pilot project.

"Any reservations, Captain?" "Nothing significant, but considering what you've told me about your MIA adventure, I just have the feeling that she won't fall in line easily." “Well, that’s our thing, isn’t it? That’s why it’s such a good fit.” “Maybe too good, Sir…” It wasn’t until your first official day of service before Rex finally got to meet you in person. He was issuing some orders to Fives when you entered the bridge of the Resolute in the company of General Skywalker, who had just given you a tour across the ship.

“And last but not least–the bridge,” the Jedi Knight explained, making an arm gesture that reminded of a showman presenting a fancy curiosity.

“Wow,” Rex heard you answer. He wasn’t aware, but he had broken off mid-sentence upon spotting you. “Just assume that I will get lost a lot on this ship. That's worlds apart from anything I'm used to.”

As you and Anakin approached, he and Fives snapped to attention and saluted.

"At ease, soldiers," the general instructed, and the soldiers complied. “Chief, I may introduce Captain Rex and ARC Trooper Fives. Rex, Fives – this is our freshly assigned Chief Medical Officer.”

“Welcome aboard, Chief.” Rex saluted again; at that exact moment, you reached out your hand with the intention to shake his.

This first mutual interaction left you both pausing in your respective gestures before you saluted, and he offered you his hand. Again, at the same moment.

Watching you and Rex figure out how to properly greet each other made Fives chuckle. “Okay, now what?”

You shortly glanced at the ARC Trooper, shrugged, and grabbed the hem of your lab coat to lift the white fabric and give a little curtsey.

Fives nodded and followed your lead by taking a subtle bow. “Nice touch. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I.” you laughed. The way your nose wrinkled at that reminded Rex of a sneezing Korrina puppy. “I’m sorry, still getting the hang of that military thing. But, I swear, I excel at cutting up bodies.”

Anakin nodded, rubbing the shoulder you had performed surgery some time ago. “I can vouch for that.”

“Without context, these are two questionable statements,” Rex said and folded his hands behind his back, straightening his spine and tightening his shoulders. "Either way, I look forward to working with you, Chief." "Likewise, Captain."

With a nod of his head, Anakin indicated to you to follow him. “Gentlemen,” you said to end the interaction with Fives and Rex and winked as you did another curtsey before you followed the general to a flashing control panel.

“This is the intercom,” he explained. “Able to transmit audio and visual. But please only use after consultation to avoid chaos. We… had a situation a while ago. Right, Fives?”

The ARC Trooper scratched the back of his head. “What can I say - thou shalt honor thy gambling debts, right?”

“It wouldn’t have been that bad if Admiral Yularen hadn’t been our guest that day,” Rex sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

You raised your eyebrows. “May I ask what happened?” “You may!” Fives’s eyes lit up. “But the answer will make us look very unprofessional,” Rex added. “So, please don’t.” “I see.”

(You would find out eventually: The three men referred to the day Fives had his bare ass broadcast shipwide.)

"What do you think, time to officially introduce you to the rest of the crew?" Anakin’s question redirected the conversation back to the reason he had led you to the intercom. “You’re ready?” You took a deep breath. “I guess I am.”

Anakin patted your shoulder for good cheer and activated the intercom. After a few introductory words and general updates on the current progress of the war, he turned the floor over to you. You stepped up next to him on the transmission platform, which scanned your body and sent a projection of the visual data to each of the Resolute's communication nodes.

“Greetings, everyone,” you started, continuing with your name and stating your academic credentials. “But that’s just for the record because I’m well aware that a fancy uni degree is the last thing that matters out here. In summary, my job is to save the war effort by preventing the collapse of the Republic's health care because the system is not designed to withstand the enormous load the Army is currently posing. Accordingly, the medics are my main responsibility. In order to conserve resources and maintain capacities for the rest of the Republic, we have to find ways to make your work less dependent on all the technology you were trained to rely on. We have to find alternative protocols and standards. You’ll have to learn new tricks and upgrade your knowledge.”

You shifted your weight onto one leg and shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat, which made you look casual. More casual than what Rex considered appropriate for your position and the occasion; however, he had to admit, the nonchalant posture made your following words sound even bolder than they already were.

“Now, how am I qualified to guide this process? I’ve been in crisis response since my residency – love it; it’s my call in life. Earthquakes, floods, riots, severe nuclear or chemical accidents, once even a meteorite strike - there aren't many disasters left I haven't seen. I like to get my hands dirty and am used to making things work with minimal resources at disposal after infrastructures were destroyed. I can rely on my hands, skills, and experience; everything else is a convenient luxury. Therefore, yes, I can teach a thing or two. However, whatever changes we seize, you’re the ones who have to work with them, so I’m going to need your perspectives. Medics, I’ve already scheduled a meeting, and here are some questions I want to have answered: What do you need to provide better care for your comrades?” Back then, you didn’t know that clones referred to each other as brothers. You updated your vocabulary once you got familiar with it. “What are you striving for? How can I help to achieve that? Which problems do you see?” You made a short break. “The appointment is mandatory, but I promise to keep everything we discuss strictly confidential. Nonetheless, should you not dare to speak frankly to an outsider upon this first occasion, there’ll be more chances. So long, carry on.”

Rex remembers this short speech you gave when you officially assumed your position even more vividly than his first sex with you, for your words and demeanor decisively shaped how he perceived you and your work henceforth.

Ever since, you often say things that resonate deeply with him, that intrigue and move him in ways he fails to comprehend. Like he fails to comprehend what in the human mind is responsible for the ability to find the stars beautiful, but that doesn't stop him from admiring the view into the depths of the galaxy.

Rex knows you are right - terminating the pregnancy is the only reasonable choice. Not only for you and him but for the sake of all the medics and civilians benefitting from your work.

Yet, how hard he may try, he can't deny that the mere idea of you having his child imbues him with… more pride than he felt when he got promoted to Captain. This truth leaves his heart in a vacuum because he grew up believing that a clone can hardly achieve more than this rank.

Nothing should mean more. Realizing that something could–well, that feels like he’s betraying himself and all his brothers.

Once more, Rex inspects the chocolate bar in his hands, which has melted in the wrapper for the umpteenth time. The vacuum in his heart fills with guilt, and he shakes his head. No, he can’t. He’s already caring too much.

Just as he decides to leave, he catches you moving in the corner of his eye, causing him to lift his head to watch you squeeze one hand against your mouth and wrap the other arm around your stomach, pulling your knees to your chest and contorting your face, screw your eyes shut.

The sight makes the vacuum inside him spread further. More guilt fills the void.

Dank Farrik, he thinks, as his fist slams the button that opens the door to the treatment room...

Chapter Two - Tightrope Act

#rex x reader #rex x you #captain rex #the clone wars #captain rex fanfiction

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direwolfrules · 1 year

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3 Mandos and a Baby AU: The One Where Bo-Katan Accidentally Adopts a Child

So, while the Scooby Gang was handling Mandalorian affairs the Clone Wars kick off.

Listen, killing Pre Vizsla and installing a 16 year old as the head of a whole sector takes a lot of focus and they all just kinda forgot about their local Sith Lord for a minute. Satine’s kept in power as Jorad’alor, because Korkie loves and respects his mom aunt, and also cause the New Mando acceptance for his rule is kinda predicated on that.

So Korkie involves them in the Clone Wars on the side of the Republic because “Jaster and 99 want me to save their grandsons/brothers”. If he starts secretly sending out baruurs to cut out the clones chips well, the Republic doesn’t need to know. And if he’s giving all clones Mandalorian citizenship well, the Republic can go jump in a Rancor pit.

This boy has no tolerance for slavery of any kind, and in his speech to his councilors Bo-Katan is reminded of another, older Korkie, passionately defending his choice to blow another Hutt slave processing camp sky high. She can’t help but be proud, and a little bit sad. What good would that Korkie had done had he not kept running into the fires that night, determined to save every Mando’ad he could?

I’m going to say Aq Vetina is a colony world just outside of Mandalorian Space and nominally under the authority of a Core world. Unfortunately for Aq Vetina, that Core world is corrupt as fuck/friendly with the galaxy’s creepiest old man. It gets attacked and out ride the mighty Mandalorians, off to save the day!

It ends up being a joint project between the Protectors and the Nite Owls, because Korkie declared it so (Myles may or may not have gotten Korkie in on the bofenn shipping. Adonai just stares menacingly from the corner). The Children of the Watch seemed to be the ones coolest with having an actual child as their king and did not protest when he sent them to guard Kamino.

Anyway, Bo and Fenn spend the whole fight making sarcastic comments and trying their best to one up each other, as one does now that they’ve completed the most therapeutic action of all, killing an abusive domestic terrorist. Anyway, it gets down to the last few Super Battle Droids and Bo hears crying from a storm cellar.

Anyway, ten minutes later Bo has a young Din Djarin strapped to her back and a deep sense of disgruntlement. Her final rival for the Darksaber, bane of her existence, and lord of all that’s annoying is currently an adorable five year old sucking on a piece of candied muja fruit Fenn gave him and sobbing into her hair.

Once the mourning little boy cries himself to sleep Bo fills Fenn in on her history with Mand’alor Djarin and his frog son. Fenn thinks this is hysterical, and laughs so hard he almost wakes up the ad’ika.

This is a theme that’s repeated amongst the time travelers, with the exception of Ursa. She actually does laugh so loud it wakes up baby Din.

Anyway, Bo-Katan is adamant that she is not adopting this kid. She’s not! The fact that she’s acting parental is just coincidence! Sure, she’s feeding the kid and clothing the kid and letting him seek affection and assurance from her, but that’s normal when dealing with a traumatized ad’ika. Try finding a Mando’ad who wouldn’t treat a traumatized orphan that way. (Fenn’s rebuttal to this is “Find one who wouldn’t adopt a traumatized orphan” and Bo elbows him in the ribs)

The whole time they’re in Sundari after that (Keldabe’s still being rebuilt) baby Din just follows after her like trouble follows R2-D2. Satine puts baby Din up in the family apartments, because Satine’s still pissed about the whole coup thing and also because she has a great many years of older sister teasing to make up for. (And maybe, in some part of her soul, Satine is glad that clan Kryze is growing again. It used to be a great clan, with dozens of members before the Wars and the bombing of Kalevala’s dome).

Korkie just flat out calls Din his cousin. Whenever people visit the palace and question who the new kid is Korkie tells them it’s his Auntie Bo’s kid. Bo kinda regrets giving a literal teenager near-absolute power over their people. Her nephew just gives her unimpressed looks and mentions that she got the armorer to start making Din beskar out of her Great Aunt’s old kit, and by giving this kid the family beskar she’s just adopting him without the formal declaration. Then he does that weird thing where he laughs at nothing (he’s laughing at Adonai’s excitement over new grandchildren).

Anyway, after a few weeks of this Fenn goes to adopt baby Din and Bo-Katan and he get super into it about who this kid’s buir is. Things suddenly get quiet and when they do finally come down an hour later they’ve agreed on shared custody. No one mentions what they were doing up there, and no one wants to.

Well, except for Myles and Tarre, but no one listens to them much. Except Adonai and Jaster, but that’s only so they know when the face-punching should commence.

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myhomeontatooine · 1 year

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STAR WARS WAS REALLY NEVER KNOWN FOR TYING UP ITS LOOSE STRINGS.....

But ANDOR..

After watching the last 3 episodes, in addition to the power play of the first 7, I'm thanking the universe for Tony Gilroy, Stephen Schiff, Toby Haynes, Diego Luna, Genevieve O Reilly, ANDY SERKIS!, Stellan Sarsgaard...too many fine actors and creators of this story to count.

So many heartbreaking moments in this show. BUT after seeing "One Way Out", my thoughts are confirmed that Andy Serkis is one of the finest actors of this century. His role as Kino Loy in this story of the prison just grabbed my attention like no show or SW story has before. Total heartbreak that I've honestly never experienced from the star wars universe before. His degree of expression and understanding of what the character is dealing with is limitless, is so fine tuned. I can go on and on about the darkness of this story, how the real story of the in fighting and struggles of a rebellion are put into play, how evil can be masked behind a bureaucratic intelligent agency....how I'm so excited that Mon Mothma's and Saw's lives get more dimension and we find out who the brokers are behind the rebellion and the sacrifices they make. Over the top now, but It is Shakespearian, folks.

Andor has set the bar for star wars storytelling and is really taking the story of sacrifice and the fight between Rebels and Empire away from the candy coated 2D level that was the prequels, Clone Wars, and Rebels and giving more flesh to the OT. Of course, Rogue One was responsible getting that ball rolling. Obi-Wan gave us a more realistic view on the injury and almost deathblow to a group of religious warriors who were given and gave themselves a huge overwhelming responsibility to keep the galaxy together. BUT ANDOR is the stuff that gives the rebellion meaning and life.

#andor #star wars #diego luna #andy serkis #tony gilroy #one way out #genevieve o reilly #stellan skarsgard #cassian andor #kino loy #mon mothma #luthen rael #saw guerrera

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toomanybandstocare · 1 year

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{Captain Rex}

Caring Hands

Program: After months of heartbreak and worry, your roommate takes you out for a night to your old stomping grounds- 79s. A bar that used to hold such fond memories of spending blurry night with your friends of the 501st legion by the side of your riduur, Rex. tonight, it seems the magnetic pull between the two of you is determined to bring you together for one last chance. Pairing: Ex! Captain Rex x Ex! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances

Naboo Sunset

Program: When Padmé sends word to you that Rex will be on an extended leave this time, you make sure that he'll enjoy his well deserved rest with no worries. Even with General Skywalker in on your plan, no one could have foreseen how Rex would react to your affection. Naboo will always be where the two of you point as the start of your lives as riduurs. Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff

Relationship Firsts

Program: It's not often that Rex feels insecure or shies away from the people he cares about most. But as your relationship progresses, he finds that the burdens and scars of war will always sit heavy on his skin. The weight of it all comes crashing down on Rex, and he has you to reassure him that he's more than worthy of your love. Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader -> Early Relationship Genre: Hurt / Comfort & Smut -> Minors Do Not Interact

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Marshal Commander Cody}

Flickering Stars

Program: Having grown close to the Marshal Commander after joining the civilian relief squad, you find yourselves at each other throats after a trap set by Separatists on Endor. Time ticks as the army pushes on through enemy territory, but almost everyone is more worried about you pulling away after Cody's fear getting the better of him with harsh words. When your life begins to flicker in front of his eyes, Cody does everything he can to save and with the hopes to tell you that he loves you. He'll stop at nothing to make sure your death isn't written in the stars rather than your love story. Pairing: Pining! Cody x Pining, GN! Reader Genre: Angst, Star Crossed Lovers (Kind Of)

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Commander Wolffe}

A Small Army

Program: With requests and paperwork assignments falling from two generals, you feel overwhelmed by the lack of support to help finish the additional work. Too afraid to make another mistake, you throw yourself into your tasks unaware of the watchful eyes of those around you. If you won't ask for help yourself, then Wolffe will remind you of the people around who care and want to help. And he'll take the time to explain just how much you mean to him and how much he's willing to do for you, if you let him. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Candy Cane Cupid

You Came, You Called

Program: You don't know why it happens, or why it lasts for sometimes only a day or spans across months. There are days where you can't recognize the person looking back at you. On those days, there's only one person you trust to call for support. The is nothing in this galaxy that will prevent Wolffe from coming to your aid and caring for you with a tender love that's reserved only for you. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort Counselor Note: Please read the warnings for this fic as it deals with mental health and heavier topics.

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Arc Trooper Fives}

By Your Side Tonight

Program: As the 501st's support agent, you've come to grow fond of your boys. Even if they're reckless and obvious. You only just marked it up to be a part of their charm, and two members of the boys in blue enjoy pulling at your heartstrings. Always trying to stay one move ahead of them in your game, a night out to 79s has you kneeling before one of them after what should have been a fatal blaster shot. Pairing: Arc Trooper Fives x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff (kind of??? my kind at least), Teasing, Flirty Humor Counselor Note: Part of the @cloneficgiftexchange :) Had a blast being a part of this and can't wait for the next one.

I Wish I Never Asked

Program: It's no secret that there's something going on between you and Fives, and the entire 501st is trying to get one of you to admit that there's more than lust and friendship. A welcome party at your apartment brings in good people, decent drinks, and revealing secrets. Maybe the confident ARC trooper isn't all that sure of himself or his emotions as he leads everyone to believe. Pairing: FWB, ARC Trooper Fives x FWB, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances

Headcanons

Fives does not like cold weather- he hates it in fact. How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you .

{Arc Trooper Jesse}

A Night to Remember

Program: A shattered heart, shot glasses, and strobing lights start your night of selfish love. If a certain ARC Trooper makes his desires known and shows his vulnerable side to win you over for the night, who are you to shoot him down? After all, tonight was supposed to be a night forgotten, and Jesse has made it one to remember. Pairing: Jesse x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort (a lil), Suggestive (a lil)

I've Got My Mind On You

Program: Birthdays...no longer come with presents wrapped in a bow or bring your loved ones together for your celebration. Unable to break away from the sadness and loneliness that you've come to associate with a day meant to for fond memories, you drift away and separate yourself from the people who stand by you everyday. Each day, Jesse keeps his eye on you terrified of the person who's taken your place. This is year that everything changes for the better, but that can only happen if you let it. Pairing: Arc Trooper Jesse x Intelligence officer, GN! Reader Alt Pairing: Arc Trooper Jesse & Intelligence officer, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Tradition in the Making

Program: Jesse comes home after a recent deployment to Kashyyyk with gifts and worries to share. Especially when his son runs up greets him at the door when Jesse left him in your arms. After dinner and when the little one is tucked in for bed, Jesse admits his conflicts feelings towards his GAR contract renewal and how we was able to cope being away from home. Pairing: Dad! Jesse x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive (barely and at the end)

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you.

{Medic Kix}

Come Home to Me

Program: Kix always keeps his promises to you, especially when he says he'll come home. Never once has he left you feeling uneasy about your relationship, yet something makes you hold onto him longer one morning when needs to leave for deployment. Only for his ori'vod to return to you home with shattering news. Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader, established relationship Genre: Fluff -> Angst Requested by @ahsokastechie for a lil fic swap <3

Galaxy's Edge

Program: Everything is too much. The war. The pressure. The responsibilities. It all pushes you to the edge, and you teeter. Just a moment away from leaving it all to try to find a semblance of peace from the raging emotions that overwhelm you. Duty bound by his medical oaths and love, Kix is by your side and knows exactly how to talk you down. Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader, established relationship Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you.

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