#clone oc: orchid

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters (Golden Dawn Part 2) - 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. Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Scheming brothers. Brief miscommunications. Mutual pining? 👀 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: 6,743

It did not take little Mir long to find several samples of art and poetry to share with the cluster of curious on-lookers that have grown around her sister while she prepares bundles of incense and dried flowers. Petals and dried leaves are taken in clusters of twenty-seven before being tied tightly with twine, and carefully passed over the fire to the individual by name. Among the first bundles she gives, one is offered to Plo Koon, who has joined you since Mir had to ask for Solladara’s help in finding a particular piece of poetry and it interrupted their discussion. 

“This is for you, Plo Koon.” 

“That is kind of you. Thank you, young Gi.” the Jedi professes his thanks once he’s able to extract one of his occupied hands, more of the Chossi children than before sitting around him or in his lap, now. He has nowhere to put it, for the time being, so while you’re busy reading some of the poetry Mir found, Commander Wolffe takes his general’s bundle of incense and finds a place for it in one of the many compartments in his utility belt. 

The Basic that’s carved into thin sheets of bark may be slightly broken and disjointed, but the verbal painting performed here is no less incredible. So… is it really the doing of the Dinocaeruleus anthos that everyone’s been so… inspired? The mere pollen in the air, where that pleasant and faintly familiar smell has followed you all day long, is responsible for all this?

All the sketches, the thoughtful conversations you’ve had today, even the thoughts you’ve been having about the commander, that could all be the influence of the pollen? You’re not sure how you feel about that. Stars above, you live in such a strange galaxy…

“It will only be effective for those who reach maturity.” Mir’s older sister explains to her curious onlookers and those fielding questions, like Tack, preparing a new incense bundle that will be given to you to take back to the Jedi cruiser. “To those who have not reached maturity, like Mir, the pollen and petal incense will only smell sweet.”

Beside you, you hear Tack now quietly mourning that it will only ever smell nice for poor Orchid under his breath. Orchid snarls back at him to shut up, saying that that was a cheap shot. He can be plenty mature! He is so fuckin' mature, thank you! 

“If you're talking about your language and your choice of reading material, sure… Now pipe down, both of you. Don't be rude to Gi!” Suds mutters, wagging his head disapprovingly of both brothers’ behaviors. “Sorry about them…” 

Gi offers only an impish smile, finding humor in the brothers’ bickering. “It won't work for Mir. But, it would work for you, Arcadia, and Wolffe.” she adds with a nod, offering him his own bundle of anthos incense. “I will make some for your brothers, too. If they are interested.”

“That’s very kind of you, Gi.” Wolffe answers as he pockets his own bundle beside General Plo’s, nodding to show his gratitude for the generosity of your hosts here. The members of their community that were once cold and standoffish before to the battalion have since thawed out some more, making further offers to show elements of their culture, their homeland here with you as off-worlders. 

We’re all just the universe trying to make sense of itself. Shouldn’t that be enough to unify us? Wouldn’t it be nice if that was all it took? 

No. Unfortunately the galaxy was just far too vast for that optimism, that sweet naivete. It would never be enough to settle the differences in Republic or Separatist opinion. 

It would never be enough to bring back Wolffe’s lost brothers, either.

Brothers he forever carries in his heart no matter if he knew them in maroon or gray. Five hundred seventy-four brothers were lost in the Battle of Abregado. As was the original Triumphant: the new flagship is unofficially filed as the Triumphant II, for the time being. If only you had the appropriate leverage to do it (or maybe you talked to enough of his brothers to rally them around the idea) you would propose Resiliency for the Star Destroyer’s new name to honor Commander Wolffe’s inspiring refusal to be deterred from his service, his duty, his creed of brotherhood and loyalty. 

It’s a lovely thought anyway.

One for another time. There’s still so much to do tonight. Gi’s still making bundles of incense for members of the Wolfpack, but there’s been offerings from the Chossi to show more of their homeland, and what they accomplish under the light of the moon as a nocturnal culture. Children Mir’s age are willing to share star stories, naming various constellations you can see when you look in the gaps of the leafy canopy of their community homes. (They’re calling it star-sowing, which sounds adorable.) Children Gi’s age have simple chores to do, and several of Wolffe’s men offer their hands in aid. 

Already, a few have assembled themselves in groups, rather like the squads they’re familiar with, and are ready to “report” to the youth of the Chossi. One rookie admits he doesn’t know what ground-squash looks like, but he’s willing to help with harvesting the ripe ones. They’ve spent all day relaxing. And though they spend more days than not getting their hands dirty, it’s from things like droid oil, and soot, oftentimes blood. Getting a bit of dirt on their hands while digging through a communal vegetable patch? Yes, that’s technically work on a day their General took them here to relax, but it’s relaxing compared to what they normally do.

“Might be the only time we get to dig holes we don’t have to fill back up.” another soldier says with a shrug, deciding he’ll join in after taking anthos incense from Gi. “Wait up, guys!”

“What did he mean by that?” you ask, half turning to Wolffe after noticing his eyes becoming half-lidded in thought. 

“Graves, most likely.” A stiff shrug is offered, showing he’s not sure himself. “Don’t trouble yourself with it.”

Tack, having eaten his hash-sah fruit while you’d been distracted, butts into the conversation between you and the commander before it grows any more grim. “You really got to try the fruit, Commander; it’s delicious. Arcadia’s should be big enough to share.” He can show you how to eat it, too, since it’s best to hold it by the soft rind, otherwise you’ll end up a bit of a mess like Orchid. 

“Ah shit, got my gloves and damn vambraces all fuckin’ sticky.”

Soapsuds hisses for him to be better. “Cool it, fresher-mouth!” he’s displeased that his brother’s not minding his tongue with so many little ones around. The little girl from earlier he’s given his chocolate to still hasn’t let go, for the most part; he’d rather not have one of his brothers prove a bad influence in her galactic vocabulary. 

You agree to get the large hash-sah fruit from amongst the things in your bag, gingerly extracting it when the flint-gray commander takes note of the time and suggests you need something to eat. If you’d returned to the Jedi cruiser with the rest of the crew, you’d probably have gotten dinner long before now. “Can’t have you going hungry, Arcadia.” Wolffe says, another instance of it being more than a suggestion. 

It’s a veiled request.

Afterwards, perhaps together, you can find something more to do. This time it is a suggestion. 

You figure anything will work, so long as it means he’s not about to start patrolling the perimeter of this community like he had in the clearing. You’ll count it as relaxing if you could get him to at least sit while he frets about his brothers. Especially if the brother within his sight is a shiny, thinking back to how he had asked if you could tell who among them were freshest out of the tube while working on his own sketch. 

Teeth and claws.

You really have to apply a firm grip on the soft rind of the hash-sah fruit in order to keep it from slipping out of your fingers once Tack’s gotten it divided equally between you and the commander, nails biting into the outer shell and leaving deep ruts as the juice runs between your fingers. 

“Stars above, scarcely started and I’m already wet…” you say as it drips into the lap of your uniform, catching the lewd innuendo far too late. “Orchid, don’t even.” 

He gives you a smile, but nothing more. 

“I mean it.” you warn him.

Laughing, Orchid now holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Can I at least ask if you think the fruit’s good?”

The commander's opinion of the local produce comes quietly before you answer his brother. ”It’s not rations.” Neither negative or positive, merely neutral. If he finds it bitter, or sweet, or savory, he doesn’t share. It’s simply not rations. 

“‘Anything’s better than rations’, I know. But is it good, Commander?”

Wolffe gives it a moment of thought. “It’s… like eating sweetened rainwater.” 

It doesn’t make much sense, but no one can figure out a way to argue against his description either. The matter gets chalked up to sitting near the fire for too long where Gi had been hard at work wrapping clusters of twenty-seven petals and leaves of a plant responsible for encouraging a person’s creativity and inspiration. 

It’s the pollen talking, you all reason amongst yourselves.

You and Commander Wolffe part ways for a short time, Plo Koon begging for your forgiveness as he explained (a little vaguely) that Wolffe was needed for something Dara had remembered, something they had forgotten to do around the ceremonial welcoming fire. After you had finished your portion of the hash-sah and cleaned your hands best you’d been able of the juices, someone had been by with more trinkets for the battalion to take with them if they wished. Leather bracelets of sorts with three beads of hammered copper, meant to be worn on the dominant arm. 

That’s when Dara remembered there was something special that was meant to be offered. It’s nothing Wolffe or the Jedi have to take, but as a culture that values their generosity, she and the rest of the elders feel it’s important to at least show it. Best guess anyone has is it’s likely some kind of clothing unique to the planet. Maybe art. 

“It would be impolite to refuse without seeing it first, General.” Wolffe agrees with the Kel Dor after briefly conferring with Kwill for the best course of action. He promises to come find you later. If it’s permitted by the elders, he’ll have Kwill take images of the offering in the event it’s something they feel they can’t (or won’t) take, so you can see it. 

“Don’t worry about me.” you promise, feeling safe between his DeeCee in your belt, and the familiarity in the company of his brothers. Though you are a lamb among so many wolves as a civilian, you couldn’t be safer. “I’ll find something to pass the time, General.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Arcadia.” Plo Koon replies kindly, dipping his head into a respectful bow of thanks. 

You’re not sure if it’s a Jedi thing, or a him thing, but you find yourself mirroring the motion this time. Respect earned, respect returned. 

He and Commander Wolffe shouldn’t be gone terribly long with the elders, so you decide to stay relatively close to where he’d departed from you just for now. Your head feels a little clearer than before, distanced from the incense where those stirring feelings had distracted you before. 

Twilight troubles, named for the harm they can do, could be simultaneously helpful. Funny how there’s so many things like that in this galaxy: good things, even good people, with intimidating names.

You’ve met a few troopers with hard, edgy names, their hearts softer than tooka fur. There’d been no bristle or frigid shoulders from men named Bane or Dukes or even a Bonesaw like your co-workers had warned you to steer clear of, what feels very long ago now, when you were very new to the job. They’d been the ones to help you navigate the durasteel halls while you learned where to go, what your duties were, your first few days. There’d been a Scuffle, too, who helped you, even at great inconvenience to himself. (Curiously, his armor bore some paint in sap green. Had he been transferred from a different unit?) Each had called you a rookie, but it was more of a casual, almost affectionate sort of thing, when they offered you their help. 

Here, sir, helped your lost rookie find their way. Got a little turned around in the halls. (Hey. Don’t worry, Arcadia, you’ll learn your way around in no time.)

Clones look so similar at first glance, a sea of sameness and uniformity. But you know better. These brave men are not wholly made of justs and sameness - a Clone who’s been invited to try his hand at throwing at a foot-pedal pottery wheel may have the same fingerprints as a million other brothers, just another Clone made in the after-image of a dead warrior, but his mark in this galaxy is unique because he is the one who put it there as the iron-rich clay squishes between his fingers in his first attempt. He laughs it off as the Chossi woman showing him how to throw encourages him to try again. 

“Well that’s certainly one way to get a feel for the clay!”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” she chuckles while she helps him start again. 

Trying again, he makes a concentrated effort not to immediately squish and squelch the red earth-matter, experimentally scooping into the mound she’s made to try pulling it outwards, like she showed him. Clones are remarkably fast learners, no matter if the result is a bit messy. Specks of clay plip against his stark white armor after he adds a bit too much water, distracted by Sergeant Boost joining the crowd of on-lookers. 

“Waiting here for the Commander, Arcadia?”

Answering somewhat to the affirmative, you tell him you’re mostly just looking around. “Just watching Lasher at the wheel for now, really.” Lasher’s having a good time, and watching the veteran ceramics at work is kinda mesmerizing. 

While you’re distracted, Sinker sweeps up Orchid, Tack and Soapsuds behind you, urging them to be silent. You’re none the wiser.

“Thinking you might add pottery to your list of talents?” Boost asks, teasing lightly. 

You roll your eyes, a sarcastic lilt in your voice. “Yeah sure, if I can find somewhere to squeeze it in between all the poetry and painting and woodworking and a thousand other things I’ve ever wanted to try my hands at with my precious free time since I’m just swimming in credits.”

“Hah,” Boost laughs, bobbing his head both knowingly and sympathetically, “Probably a good thing Clones don’t exactly come by much in the way of credits. There’d be too many half-used hobby kits lying around the cruiser.” 

While you’re asking him where Clones do get the credits for things like the popular Clone bar on Coruscant, Sinker is trying to persuade one of his brothers to do something for him to little success. “Please? It can’t be me or Boost.” It needs to be one of the younger brothers of the battalion who does this. He’ll sweeten the pot if need be, if it convinces them. “A dirty holomag. Round of drinks at 79’s. We won’t make you clean the gunships. Something.” 

“You had me at dirty holomag.” Orchid answers, grinning as he gleefully rubs his hands together. “What do you need me to do?”

Sithspit he didn’t actually have one on hand back at the cruiser, but he knows how to get one. That's a problem for later. “Listen carefully, when the Commander gets back-” Sinker begins, casting a careful look over his shoulder to make sure Boost still had you properly distracted. The two of you are making idle chatter, still. Sounds like Boost has you talking about potentially going back to the gathering fire with him later, where the inviting blaze would keep you warm in spite of the night’s chill. Just in case Commander Wolffe ends up being a while. 

You’re hemming and hawing about it, admitting you’re not sure just yet, but it’s kind of him to offer in the spirit of the oft-shared sentiment from the inhabitants of Little Archossi the Jedi, Clones and you are the humble guests of tonight. 

More friends the merrier. All are welcome under our shared skies. 

“Sure, no problem Arcadia,” Sergeant Boost says agreeably, “Night looks promising to have a lot of excitement still, so I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to - oh, I dunno - step back for a bit and find somewhere quiet. It is pretty late.”

Or, early, rather. It had been well past 1:00 when last you looked at a chronometer, putting you an hour into a new day. It’s probably 2 or even 3:00 am by now. It could be another three hours before dawn, give or take. You’re definitely not getting any sleep tonight, but you may at least need to rest. (You may need a lot of caf to get through the day when you get back to the cruiser.)

There’s a tree not far from here that seems a little more isolated at the edge of the settlement, Boost pointing it out to you when you say you think it might be a good idea, so it may be a good place to rest and work on another of your sketches if you want. 

“Thanks Boost. I think I might.”

From here, the activity and chatter of the settlement has fallen away into a comfortable lull of background noise, punctuated with hearty laughter and dramatic sound effects used by the troopers to spice up their storytelling. In the cold glow of the moon, you could once more study the artwork Wolffe had made of you while you twirled one of the coloring pencils in your hand absentmindedly. 

Color it however you like. 

Trouble is, you keep changing your mind, or run into complications. First you thought about choosing your favorite color, but the end of the pencil was too dull and you couldn’t find a sharpener among your things to remedy that. (How did you not have a sharpener?) Then you thought about coloring yourself in maroon too, the end still plenty sharp, but putting yourself in such a significant color to the history of the battalion felt… strange. Like maybe you felt you weren’t worthy of it. You’ve gone through a few more colors in your bag, putting away one and pulling out another, but you can never seem to bring yourself to put the pencil to paper. 

A rhythmic sound coming from the community, like the beating of a heart, pauses your skylane of thought for a moment. Growing louder, closer, you realize its two sets of boots tromping down the path, one heavy and deliberate to combat the other’s backpedaling. 

“Orchid, what is the meaning of this?!” Commander Wolffe demands at last, realizing his brother isn’t going to stop for anything, not even the threat of refresher and gunship duty. His brother only marches him further and further through the dark pathway where the crowns of the trees keep all the light for themselves. A datapad clipped to his hip rapidly knocks against the plastoid at the pace they’re going. “Let me go, or tell me what’s going on!” 

“Respectfully, Commander,” Orchid begins in a voice that leaves no room for interruption, “it’s time for you to stop circling the gunships and get to the hangar already!” He gives Commander Wolffe a firm shove from behind, sending the man a half-step forward into your small circle of light with a mischievous cackle. “Don’t worry about the rest of the battalion for the night, we’ve got it covered with the General!”

It’s now coming together for Wolffe, piece by piece. “... Boost and Sinker put you up to this, didn’t they?”

“Not quite, Commander. But they know I’ve got just enough younger brother privileges to still get away with this.” Orchid replies with a shit-eating grin, pleased with himself. 

“I’m putting all three of you-”

“Yeah, we’ve got it covered Commander! Have fun!” Orchid calls back over his shoulder as he retreats into the boundaries of the Chossi community. “Elder Row says don’t go any farther than the fifth cairn stack!”

Have fun? Fifth cairn stack?

Gulping back some nervousness, you apologize to the commander. “I’m so sorry that they’re… Well, I don’t even know what. I’m just as much in the dark as you, actually.” You’re not sure what Sinker or Boost had planned, or how exactly Orchid got involved in it, but you’re positive it’s giving Wolffe a headache. “I… might have a theory though.”

“... what?” Wolffe dares to ask, hesitant. 

“Sergeant Sinker told me earlier that I… s-seem to be having better luck than them when it comes to encouraging you to relax, so it’s… part of the reason I keep offering to keep you company.”

He stares at you in silence, contemplating perhaps, but it’s more likely that he’s working up something to say. 

Instead he sighs. “Hmm.” 

Putting your things to the side, you climb to your feet and dust off the seat of your pants, unsure if you should approach him when he’s currently clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. It doesn’t seem to be a completely conscious action as he finally drops his gaze and sighs once more. 

“Damn him.” comes the bitter grumble, a regretful expression cracking the commander’s stoic shell. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have started to lose my temper with-” Swallowing back the rest of the sentence with some difficulty, Wolffe looks at his feet instead, registering just how far he is from the settlement now, too. Sometimes, he finds himself forgetting just how strong the youngest troopers are. 

He’s been in this war for so long now, it feels, that trying to remember his own days fresh off Kamino proves a struggle. He used to be one of the four marshal commanders of the Grand Army, but the man you’ve gotten to know today is just a commander now. 

Wolffe notices something below his left boot just as you find your voice. 

“Wolffe? Are you okay?”

Your concern is touching. “I’m fine now, Arcadia.” he promises, pulling back his foot as he stoops to see what it is. Ah. Must have stepped on one of the Dinocaeruleus anthos after Orchid pushed him. (Anger and annoyance has been replaced with pride for that little pain in the ass.) He plucks the terrible blue flower with smashed petals from its home in the soil, looking regretful. Sorry little thing. He hadn't meant to trod over it. 

“What did Gi say these were called again?” he asks you, thinking to tuck the ruined blossom in his utility belt until he can find Tack. (Maybe even a ruined specimen can serve the researcher, in some way, he hopes.)

“Twilight troubles.” you answer, your voice softer than the gentle breeze. 

His head dips with a thoughtful nod as he plucks the neighboring, uncrushed flower too, “... come here.” Commander Wolffe requests in that golden tone that sends shivers down your spine. Close enough for his liking, Wolffe finds some buttonhole in your uniform to thread the stem through, adorning you with further tokens. “A little more color to catch the moonlight.” 

The stitched, gray wolf head with thread in your favorite color for the eyes was the only addition that graced your uniform just this morning. Now, there was the long leather cord of three copper beads wrapped around your wrist, and the Dinocaeruleus anthos - a delicate and beautiful galaxy when kissed by the rays of the moon - in the buttonhole to your breast pocket. 

“There,” Wolffe says decidedly, “think suits you rather well, Arcadia.” There’s a glimmer of moonlight reflected in the surface of his cybernetic eye, the cold and delicate beauty of it serves for a lure. You’re staring, and he can tell. 

He turns his face from you, eyes growing half-lidded. “Looks strange in the moonlight, doesn’t it?” The murmur is bashful, or perhaps more accurately, more self-conscious. Funny, you’ve never believed Commander Wolffe to be in any way conscious of his appearance like this in all the time you’ve been aboard the Triumphant. Never for a moment would you have pegged him to harbor insecurities, until today and all the many opportunities he has left himself vulnerable under your sight. 

Been permitted to know him better.

He’s allowed himself to be pulled apart, scrutinized and examined all so you can continually paint him with your praises, making your promises that you see him for the whole of the man he is. Beyond the flint. Beyond the designation number. Beyond his status as a commander, or simply just yet another rain-soaked son of Kamino. To you he is not Kaminoan or even Republic property, a mere product ten years in the making, a culmination of what a good, dutiful soldier was imagined to be and nothing further. No. You’ve witnessed too much today to pretend otherwise. 

He’s so much more.

“No. Strange isn’t the word I’d use.” you reply with a somber edge in your voice, “It’s… brighter in the moonlight. Like… like it becomes a beacon of light. Or a moon of its own.”

Instance after instance, you continue to impress Wolffe. Stump him repeatedly. Just when he thinks you can’t possibly offer yet more worshiping words, you conjure more. You’ve never seen him painted in the aching pains of rage that come in the heat of battle, but your tongue lifts only in reverence when you speak of his once-maroon paint and the phase one helmet. You’ve witnessed the hands that comforted and guided his brothers today, the very same hands that show a readiness in drawing his weapon today or any other day; never once did you shy away from such displays. You looked on in awe, instead. Or fear, not for yourself, but for him. 

He hums low in his throat. “Sounds like pollen-talk.”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s not. But would you believe me no less if it was, Wolffe?”

“‘Sounds like’ is not the same thing as ‘that is’, Arcadia.” the commander informs you, clarifying his meaning with a soft voice like hissing cinders. “But I never meant to imply I did not believe you…” Of course he believes you. You’ve proven your respect for him today, instance after repeated instance. 

It’s time he showed you more of the same respect in kind. You’ve been… so selfless, and kind, in giving him your time today. You could have told him to fuck off when he got in the way of the tree you’d been drawing, and you didn’t. You didn’t have to keep him company when Plo Koon had gone scouting, but you had. And you chose to remain behind when the rest of the crew left. How better can he repay all of that than to be honest with you?

Hoping he comes across in earnest, he meets your eye. “I would still believe you, even if it was from the flowers, because it’s you talking.” Wolffe promises. 

Now alone, fully isolated from his brothers rather than surrounded on all sides like so much of today, both you and the commander grow bolder, speaking freer than when you find yourself in the midst of the wolves. “Earlier: what was it that Waves said?” you ask, setting your things down now that you’re out of visual range of the battalion. 

Steeling himself with a long draught of his canteen first, Wolffe does not immediately meet your eye. He had taken you a little further away from the edge of the settlement, fearing his brothers would repeatedly come to gawk at the pair of you. What he says next, paired with the location, should be cautious. He’s aware of what it looks like. 

“Orchid seemed - seems…? - to think you'll have my privates standing at attention before morning, as a way to get me to relax, the next time we were alone.” 

It's exactly as you suspected, a sexual innuendo.

Both you and the commander break eye contact with the other at the same time. Yeah. You know exactly what the 104th will think when they learn that you two snuck off alone, staying within the boundaries of the third and fourth cairns - rock formations a whole head taller than Wolffe - in order to get a little alone time. 

“Permission to turn him into flower food, sir?” you request half-sarcastically with a deep groan, face in your hands. Did Orchid get that idea from his choice of reading material? Was the clever if crude play on words involving military rank and one's genitalia something he found on the Holonet? You and the commander… you barely know each other, let alone-! “Fucking hell… I think I’m gonna kill him.”

“He’ll wish you had after a week of fresher duty,” Wolffe says with a mild laugh, now offering you the canteen. “But I’m afraid the general and I need that little pain in the ass in one piece.” 

You chuckle. “Spoil-sport…” With not much in the canteen, you take a small drink with the intention of conserving some for later. The rest of the water was for you, he had said. You thank him after setting the canteen beside your bag, where you once more pull out your sketchbook as well as the second datapad you had offered to carry. When Orchid had shoved the flint-gray commander, the force combined with the weight of the datapad had compromised the clip holding it to Wolffe’s belt. At least that was going to be an easy part to replace. 

“So before I forget… what did Solladara want to show you and General Plo?”

Finding the pictures, Wolffe shows you the items, “Artwork of the clearing, where they found us. And… this.” It looks like it’s supposed to be some kind of shirt, but the material is surprisingly transparent. “You can understand why we accepted only the artwork, I’m sure.” Wolffe adds, shaking his head with a soft laugh as your eyes roam the image, trying to picture him in it while he mentions he’s going to try to get a small fire going to stave off the chill of the night. There’s a shallow pit, kindling and firewood that you can use here already, to your good fortune.

“I’m almost tempted to draw you again, wearing that Chossi attire that was offered to you this time.” you admit with a splitting smile, twirling the 2-besh pencil in your hand teasingly as you continue to study the image.  

You’re not really going to draw him in it, knowing that it’d leave very little to the imagination with a body type like the commander’s. He’s not slender in the same way the peoples of Little Archossi are, certainly much broader, and with well-defined muscle… Well. 

There was no way such a thing would be appropriate to wear anywhere other than the privacy of his own quarters. You’ll end up making the man look like a pin-up model in a state of semi-undress.

Wolffe clears his throat meaningfully. “You really should rest your wrist. I think you’ve drawn enough for the night, Arcadia.” Stretching out his hand, he silently beckons for the sketchbook to be turned over to him once he’s gotten the fire going. 

“Seriously?” You’re less than impressed with him for the moment, and it shows. You want to be touched that he’s concerned about your comfort, but him acting like a parent or other figure of guardianship in your life taking something away because you’ll misbehave with it in your possession is not the way to go about it. “I think I’m capable of showing some restraint on my own, thanks.”

Wolffe gives an unpleasant twitch when he realizes how this looks. How he believes he’s offended you. “I didn’t mean to imply that- Yes of course you are, Arcadia, you’ve proven that. I only wanted to ask to see it for a moment. I’m sorry.”

Oh. 

Oh Maker. Talk about a total overreaction when you don’t have all the facts. 

You hand him the spiral bound, eyes turned away. “I’m sorry. For assuming, and overreacting like that. I shouldn’t have.” The apology comes out in a strained voice, far more choked than you’d like. There are a million half-formed thoughts racing over your tongue right now that will never make it past your lips. You do not trust any single one will be coherent when it’s clarity you feel he deserves. “I think… I think after being around all this creativity-boosting pollen today it kind of just left me… wondering where all the thoughts begin and end.”

“Do you think you need a minute?”

“Yes…” you admit slowly. Wolffe starts to climb to his feet and panic begins to bubble up in your chest. “B-but I’d like you to stay! I’m not asking you to leave.” You don’t want him to leave, because you don’t know when he’ll come back, or if you feel this is worth potentially troubling a medic over. 

He listens, and he stays. The distance between you however, has changed. Wolffe’s put himself much closer to you now. Previously at arm’s length, he’s now close enough to lean against. He has the sketchbook in his hands, flipped open to that page of you in uncolored armor, but it’s you that he studies. In his quiet observance, Wolffe’s expression changes several times in the fluttering firelight, each change gradual and small. Softening brow. Pursing lips. Eyes full and fixed. 

“You’re a hard man to read sometimes, Commander Wolffe.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to say it, or how he’ll take it after what just happened, but maybe he’ll appreciate knowing what’s on your mind. “I think it makes me nervous. Sometimes.”

You know he doesn’t mean to. But you can’t help the way you feel either.

“I don’t doubt that, Arcadia.” 

He’s sorry that he makes you nervous, as well, Wolffe adds. Of course it isn’t his intention. Of course he understands that feeling this way can’t be helped sometimes either. He’s familiar with that feeling and its cousins. Nervousness and dread. You’ve seen enough proof of it today. The pacing. Safety drills. Lecturing Suds. Arguing with his sergeants. Throwing himself over you to keep you safe. 

Without hesitation. Like you were one of his own brothers… 

“Hey, um-” you start, glancing over at your sketchbook, “H-how’d you draw me so quickly? Can’t just have been ‘inspiration’.” It’s not the question you want to ask first when you disturb the curtain of silence, but it’ll serve as a good starting block.

Commander Wolffe gives you a small, guarded smile. “The idea is to be quick when you’re drawing outdoors, is it not? That’s what you said to me this morning.”

Oh the utter cheek in that reply - whether it was intended or coincidental - could drive someone wild were there not so many questions on your mind. And there’s just so much. 

“Force, I… I almost forgot I’d said that, in all honesty.” you admit a bit numbly, staring ahead into the dark sea of foliage. “You- Well no, you remembering that would make sense. I guess I should be more surprised by how much detail you captured in so short a time.” 

Muttering something to himself in thought, he repeats the word detail several times before coming to an important decision. 

Commander Wolffe's hand darts into the low fire pit, snatching out a charred hunk of wood. As you're wondering what the hell's gotten into him, if he's burned his hand through the gloves, he takes the art book in his opposite hand and flips it to his sketch of you. Sort of tickling the page with one end of the charred wood, Wolffe is carefully smearing the appropriate areas of the armor with ashes, blowing away the excess once he's done. 

“That takes care of gray missing from all of the coloring pencils.” He nods once, stiffly, satisfied with his ingenuity. “Now you truly look the part.” 

Look the part? But you're just drawn in Clone armor and colored in gray, just like the 104th battalion. What's so special about-?

Oh, Force. Oh galaxy and all her stars…

Commander Wolffe means you look like the rest of the one-oh-fourth, that you fit in. 

“Are you saying that…?” 

Osk-nern-esk

The eyebrow above his cybernetic eye lifts just so, nearly missed in the flickering firelight. “Use your words, Arcadia.” he teases. 

Osk-forn

“A-are you saying that I’m… b-but I'm just part of the crew!” you insist, certain that he's not serious about this. He can't truly mean what he's been writing, word by word beneath the first mantra. 

Trill-hesh-esk

“But you are, Arcadia. You're one of us.” Wolffe promises, voice low and reverent. “The 104th would not be the same without you. Not after what I've seen… felt today.” 

Wesk-osk-leth-vev-esk-senth

ONE OF THE WOLVES.

Whether they were still the magnificent maroons of the past, or the grizzled grays of today, you have been added among the names - the number perhaps thousands or more - of his brothers that he will forever carry in his beating heart, forevermore his wolves. This is a silent oath that when he fights for the glory of the Republic and the downfall of the Separatists, he’s doing so for his general, for his brothers, and for you.

For good measure, Wolffe scribbles down his rank and name, bringing the end to the work on his magnum opus with a signature. It's only fitting. Here, at this private fireside, he lays his heart and intentions bare to you. “I’m probably about as poetic as a gargled mouthful of Aurebesh soup, but Arcadia… while I know you well enough to consider you one of the Wolfpack, I'd… I'd like to ask if you'd be opposed to getting to know you better. As new friends do, first, perhaps, or…”

You blink once, maybe five times before finding your voice. Friends. In his own way, he confirmed you were friends. “I wouldn't be opposed at all… I-I’d be happy to, even.” 

You're nearly breathless, heart racing a thousand kilometers an hour, just short of warp speed. 

Does the slight stress to “or” mean he's grappling with other feelings about you on his mind, like you do for him? The love versus limerence? 

“As friends is a… good place to start.” you offer additionally, matching that tender, relieved smile he shows you. 

“Have to start somewhere, Arcadia,” the Commander replies plainly, trying to appeal to his and your own sense of logic perhaps. “Just to make certain of any… feelings.” 

Taking you under his arm, against his side, Wolffe is content with waiting out the remainder of the night under the curtain of stars for the sky to lighten and give way to another glorious, golden dawn. The 104th will depart for the Triumphant at daybreak, and the war efforts will resume as normal. You just hope Plo Koon cooks up a satisfactory excuse in the event someone asks him what happened today. (Or, technically yesterday. (What time is it?)) For all you know, nobody will ever ask or care to know, or it'll be decided what happened on Little Archossi is by-and-large an unspoken secret. 

Which would kind of be a shame. 

It'd be terrible to keep the day you became friends with the flint-gray Commander under wraps, never get to explain the truth behind him coated in maroon while you're in gray in the pages of your sketchbook. Never be able to explain the full context of meeting the Chossi, or what they've taught everyone. 

Or how, murmured under his breath into the shell of your ear after the stars begin melting into the backdrop at long last, Commander Wolffe admits that perhaps for once, he's never been more relaxed since the start of the war.

That's a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone who read this series; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing this.🩷If you would like to be join my taglist for future fics, the form can be found here.

Tag list: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar

[Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Midday] [Late Afternoon] [Evening] [Deep Night]

[Golden Dawn part 1] [Finished!]

#frostfics #Poets and Painters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #tcw #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #gender neutral reader #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #cc 3636 #cameos of #plo koon #104th battalion #tcw sinker #tcw boost #tcw warthog #tcw comet #clone oc: tack #clone oc: orchid #clone oc: soapsuds #mentions of #jedi oc: caelen #clone oc: scuffle

[my-axe]

more bugpinos! including a human design woag...

#pizza tower #my art #bugpino #peppino clone oc #peppino clone #pizza tower oc #the costumes r all from in game teehee.. except the last one #last costume is based on an orchid mantis!

[jess-cookierun-art]

White Lily Cookie Clones

I first thought of this idea last year on the same month aka January and I was heavily inspired by the Grimwalkers from The Owl House cause I thought it would be neat

But throughout last year, I procrastinated on the designs and only did it if I wanted to. Now with White Lily Cookie in the game, I finished all the designs of the clones with finishing Lily Garden yesterday.

Instead of putting them in separate posts, I’ll put them all together with names and order they were created under the cut. Later, I put them in separate posts to save you time

Lily Orchid Cookie

Vanilla Lily Cookie

Silver Lily Cookie

Lily Bouquet Cookie

Lily Pad Cookie

Lily Pond Cookie

Lily Bud Cookie

Lily Garden Cookie

Flower Garden Cookie

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #white lily cookie #white lily cookie clones #vanilla lily cookie #silver lily cookie #lily bouquet cookie #lily pad cookie #lily pond cookie #lily bud cookie #lily garden cookie #flower garden cookie #my art #jess art #lily orchid cookie

[fandom-friday]

Hey Karrde, Happy Fandom Friday 🥰!

I want to submit the series by @frostycatblr-fandom-files Poets and Painters a Mature Wolffe x GN!Reader series!

I've been really enjoying each chapter and I really like the quiet moments with Wolffe and I really love the clone OCs antics 😂

If there's one thing Wolffe deserves, it's some peace and quiet after EVERYTHING he's been through, and I love that this fic gives him that. Also, you know me. I'll never stop shouting about other people's clone OCs. I'm collecting them like Pokemon cards at this point. I love seeing this series get recommended. Thanks so much for sending it in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #commander wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #clone oc #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #OC Tack #OC Orchid #OC Soapsuds #jedi OC

[skellymom]

"Ballroom Blitz"

The Bad Batch Clone Fic Gift Exchange

*FINISHED FULL STORY*

(Pinterest pic credit: Not Labeled)

 @hexerein SURPRISE! Here is your gift for the @cloneficgiftexchange ENJOY!

Used BOTH of your prompts:

"This is not a clone clubhouse." Appears in this introduction.

"I don't believe that is the proper use of delicate equipment."

Characters: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker and 3 female OC's to pair with them. Stayed away from the tropes mentioned that you didn't want used. Had these OC's dancing around in my mind for several months...and YOU gave me the inspiration to use them! Thank you!!!

Story is written in third person as I LOVE supporting characters and being omniscient about the surrounding environment, building it up like YOU are watching a movie.

Summary: Clone Force 99 visits a dumpy nightclub for "science". These guys can't stay out of trouble. Tech finds friendship, Hunter figures out a secret, and Wrecker falls in love for the first time.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing, fighting (no blood), explosion, fire, clone angst, sexual suggestion only.

Dancers waited behind the stage for their cue scanning the club’s dance floor. 

A Chiss named Saxe remarked with a disgusted look as she spied numerous shiny's among the crowd, "This is not a clone clubhouse."  

Rueby rolled her eyes at Saxe and sassed, “Honey, I thought this was a clone WHOREHOUSE!” 

The other dancers laughed at the clap back. Most of them KNEW the clones enjoyed the woman, men, and the genderfluid staff genuinely, happy to lap up the attention, tipped handsomely, and brought their favorites gifts as often as they had GAR leave to visit. Plus, they were handsome, non-threatening...most of the time. Usually only did the occasional stupid thing, which the Republic covered for monetarily. 

However, there was the rare dancer that didn’t appreciate these men. Usually, the uppity, better-than-you types. Rueby shot a disdainful glance at Saxe who backed off. Saxe then exited the stage to relieve one of several cage dancers. 

Rueby took a deep breath and did her most inspiring power pose, psyching herself up for the next number.  

She made her entrance oozing sass and sex appeal.  Cat walking, swinging her hips and ass.  Kill you/fuck me eyes trained on the audience.  All 6 and 1/2 ft of strongly muscled dancer's frame with ONE mission in mind: TO SLAY! 

MUSIC FOR THIS FIC!

The seedy club flooded with patrons.  Officially over capacity for fire code and safety.  But the deadbeat owner of the Flushed Orchid considered this a suggestion and not a rule.  He paid off the authorities to stay open.  They looked the other way on fire codes, treatment of his dancers, dealing of spice/death sticks/sketchy backdoor tub liquor, along with other unsavory activities. 

Rueby gyrated and flipped her hair around to the eardrum splitting music.  Multicolored lights trained on her through the dark while she danced her heart out on the elevated stage. She LIVED to dance. The harder, louder, and dirtier the music, the better. A collective whoop went up from the crowd as she backflipped and ended up in the splits on the floor. 

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech wandered into the club taking in the chaos.  

“Eh...if you guys want to leave; I have no problem...” Hunter wasn't really a fan of the lights, noise, crush of people pressing by, or the prospect of getting a beer spilled on him. 

“The Coruscant Guard HIGHLY recommended this establishment.”  Tech practically yelled over the din.  “I’m here to conduct RESEARCH.” 

Hunter wrinkled his nose. “Tech, this place is a DUMP!” 

“True, it’s not 79’s. My data gathering there is complete.  I required another study environment.” 

“WHAT WERE YOU STUDYING?”  Wrecker’s regular voice could be heard perfectly within the loud environment. 

“The pre-mating rituals of the general populace of Coruscant.”  Tech answered.  “Specifically, their affinity for meeting at extremely loud and crowded places that handicap their ability to communicate effectively.  In addition, to observe how the consumption of alcohol changes the degree of their deeply held inhibitions.” 

Hunter shook his head.  “Go head, gather ‘data’.  I’m going to the bar to inhibit my senses.” 

Tech made a beeline for the stage.   

Wrecker followed...then he spotted Rueby! 

A beautiful, strapping Zeltron woman, with ample hips, and a Calypgian behind.  Her smooth skin was a beautiful shade of passionate red. Wrecker heard of legends regarding woman warrior giantesses.  Women almost as large as himself.  Probably even strong enough to sweep him off his feet.   

And she was hanging upside down off a metal pole, sensually caressing her deep indigo hair. 

Wrecker followed Tech through the crush of gyrating bodies on the dance floor.  They could only get 20 feet from the stage. 

Tech was too busy being IN the crowd, watching the “pre-mating ritual” of the people around them. 

Wrecker was entranced.  Rueby was now SPINNING ON THE POLE and holding herself horizontally off it with minimal effort!  While wearing stiletto boots.  

Rueby DEFINITELY noticed Wrecker.  She smiled right at him and released pheromones in her excitement. 

Honestly...this was a FIRST for Wrecker.  He usually noticed food, bombs, and the infatuations of his brothers.  For himself...it just never seemed to be the same. 

Until tonight.  Wrecker was experiencing an AWAKENING. 

Meanwhile, at the bar, Hunter flagged down Tipsy, the Twi ’lek barkeep.   

“What’ll it be Handsome?” She usually flirted playfully with the patrons.  And her tips reflected the extra attention they appreciated. 

“Take some Spotchka.” Hunter smiled. 

Tipsy filled the glass, sliding it across to Hunter.  “YOU boys don’t strike me as the usual clones who hang out here.  What’s your story?  IF you care to tell...” 

Hunter sipped his drink.  The lavender hued lady taking an interest had him rethink hurrying Tech and Wrecker out of the bar early. 

“We’re defective.  Belong to Clone Force 99.” 

“Oh!  Heard about you guys!!!”  Tipsy leaned forward on the bar taking extreme interest.  “Crazy stories.  You guys are OFF THE CHAIN!” 

Hunter grinned.  “Hm...we get the job done.” 

“Good looking AND capable.” she winked. 

Hunter blushed and took another sip. 

Several Reg clones and a Gotal summoned for service at the other end of the bar. 

“Be back later.  Gotta serve the patrons.” 

Hunter watched her go, grinning into his glass. 

Vix loaded up her tray and waded out into the tight crowd.  She HATED nights like this.  Being short and petite felt stifling in the crush of bodies.  On top of that, carrying a tray full of drinks and hoping not to spill anything was nerve wracking. 

She was SO CLOSE to earning enough money to quit this dump and start school.  Her plans were to study Botany off-world.  The thought of sitting in a quiet hololibrary and studying up on plant life relieved a bit of stress until... 

...someone YANKED on her tail!  Vix yelped angrily, baring her teeth. 

SHE WAS SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!!! 

Tech heard Vixs’ protest and looked up from his holopad. 

He noticed she was a small Amaran female who seemed to be in pain.  Their eyes met briefly.  His in query to her predicament, her’s in frustration. 

Vix flattened her ears and turned away from Tech to the large Houk holding her tail in his grasp. 

“Hello foxy lady.”  He leered. 

“Sir, the view is the ONLY thing I’m obliged to give you.  Let go of my tail!”  Her anger rising. 

“Aww...such a cute little angry redhead...” 

“I do believe the lady politely requested that you release her coccygeal vertebrae.”  Tech was now standing next to Vix. 

“Wut?” The Houk was dumbfounded. 

“HE SAID LET GO OF MY TAIL, YOU ASSHAT!” Vix screamed above the din of the nightclub.  Some of the patrons stopped dancing, turning to watch the fracas. 

The Houk’s attitude went from stupid to vitriol.  “BITCH!” 

Vix had enough.  She threw the tray of drinks at him. 

He finally let go of her tail.  But he went for the throat with his big hammy hands. 

Tech pulled her out of the way, the Houk stumbled past knocking over patrons.  Many of the dancers stopped and stared at the altercation. Some of the clones stepped up to assist but fell back seeing it was only the Defective Clones who were in a bind. 

The Houk got up and ran for them again.  Vix yanked the holopad from Tech’s hands and threw it with all she had, hitting the Houk right between the eyes.  It stopped him only minimally, as he bellowed in anger. 

"I don't believe that is the proper use of delicate equipment" Tech quipped as the Houk picked him up off the ground and was lifted above its head. 

“Oh...NO... I’M SO SORRY!!!” Vix was terrified Tech would meet his end trying to help her. 

Tipsy and Hunter were really hitting it off, until... 

Her eyes went wide in horror, pointing over Hunter’s shoulder “Is THAT one of your guys over there???” 

Hunter spun around to see Tech being held aloft horizontally above the crowd by an angry Houk.  To his credit, Tech looked extremely calm.  But the Houk looked as though he was going to throw Tech across the room. 

“WHAT THE KRIFF DID HE DO???”  Hunter just wanted a drink or two, then leave to go to bed.  

There was NO way Hunter was going to get across the bar to save Tech’s ass in time.  Too many bodies in the way...but he tried to wade through... 

Until Wrecker’s fist connected with the Houk’s face.  He went down like a sack of bricks.  Wrecker caught Tech from falling into the crowd. 

That move caused TOTAL MAYHEM!  Drunken patrons with pent up emotions took this as a sign to commence in a BAR FIGHT!!! 

People started screaming, fighting, breaking things. Mob mentality took over, infecting the whole establishment. 

Wrecker stood above the fray with his tall frame.  Still holding Tech to keep him from being dragged under in the craziness.  Vix wasn’t as lucky. 

“Vix!”  Rueby yelled from the stage.  Wrecker turned to see his Zeltron crush dive off the stage into the crowd like it was a river.  She came up pushing bodies furiously away from her path.  One patron decided he wanted to throw a punch her way.  She picked his ass up and threw him across the room. 

“Rueby!  HELP!!!”  Rueby pushed and struggled her way through the crowd towards the small panicked voice.  Then dipped down below the frenzied sea of bodies.  A minute later, Rueby emerged pushing bodies out of the way while holding Vix. 

Someone’s death sticks ignited something flammable in the room, and huge flames erupted.  The patrons who weren’t fighting were pushing and trampling each other to escape the burning building. 

“WRECKER!  TECH!!!”  Hunter was now caught in the fray and being pulled away from his brothers. 

“RUEBY!”  Tipsy could see Hunter was too far out in the crowd to bring him back to the bar.  “Help him!  WE ALL HAVE TO GET THE KRIFF OUT OF HERE!!!”  Tipsy pointed to Hunter.  Then she grabbed a chair, busted out the window, and jumped through it. 

Rueby recognized the boys by their matching armor, knowing they belonged together. 

“HEY BEEFCAKE!”  She yelled to Wrecker.  “GO OUT THROUGH THE BACK STAGE!  I’LL GET YOUR SERGEANT.” 

Wrecker nodded. 

“WAIT!”  Rueby yelled.  “CATCH!!!” 

She tossed Vix over the heads of the crowd to Wrecker.  He shifted Tech to his right arm and caught Vix with his left.  She yelped in terror.   

“Hold on!”  Tech grabbed onto Vix “This is going to be a VERY bumpy ride!!! 

Wrecker mowed through the crowd, hip checking people out of the way and hopped up on the stage. 

Rueby pushed and body slammed people out of the way best she could in the chaos.  Reaching out to Hunter as he extended his hand to her.  She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up and out of the crowd.  As her other hand could reach, she grasped the front of his armor and yanked him up over her shoulder...like he was a tiny child. 

Hunter was used to Wrecker doing this, but not a beautiful strapping woman wearing next to nothing.  She was holding his leg with one hand and gripping his buxom bottom with the other.  He could feel the fire, smell everything burning, the screams of fear were too much for his ears...it ALL was too much for him right about now. 

He just wanted a drink.  How did everything go SO WRONG??? 

Rueby managed to make it to the stage.  Wrecker set down Tech and Vix.  Then pulled Rueby up.  She set Hunter down. 

“We gotta bolt!  When the bar catches fire, WE’RE BANTHA BARBECUE!!!” 

Everyone ran like hell to the backstage exit. 

Hunter, Vix, and Tech made it out first.  They ran behind the trash dumpster for safety. 

Rueby and Wrecker barely made it out when all the alcohol in the bar ignited. 

The back door blew off its hinges, slammed into Wrecker, who slammed into Rueby.   

Hunter, Vix, and Tech watched their friends literally ride the heavy metal door across the back courtyard, over the tower railing...screaming bloody murder all the way. 

They disappeared out of view... 

...as their screams carried off into the distance...and down. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Hunter was mortified. 

“They...are they...” Vix couldn't even finish. 

“Sounds as though they are in freefall.” Tech’s head was cocked, listening.  “It’s an awfully long fall down to The Bottoms of Coruscant.” 

They ran past the courtyard, up to the railing, and leaned over... 

...to see Rueby and Wrecker hugging each other tightly, sitting on the steel door like a magic carpet as it gracefully glided up towards them. 

“How the HELL???”  Hunter was STILL mortified. 

Tech was glad he recorded the whole ordeal.  What an amazing visual. 

The door glided up over their heads coming down to rest on the balcony.  Both Wrecker and Rueby were safely out of harm's way.  But they wouldn’t let go of each other for quite some time. 

They all stared at each other for a minute speechless. 

“You’re welcome!”  Came a voice behind them. 

They all spun around to see Anakin Skywalker standing up in his hover craft hands raised.   

Obi Wan Kenobi was in the driver’s seat.  “Detonation Surfing seems to be a rather dangerous sport to take up, wouldn’t you say?”  His eyes twinkled. 

“You’re pretty lucky we drove by when we did.”  Anakin smirked.  “That first date would have been your last.”  

Wrecker sheepishly glanced at Rueby, who hugged Wrecker tighter. Her Zeltron pheromones had him in a state of horny bliss. The danger aspect of what just happened had her shivering against him...in an excited manner. 

“Anakin and Obi Wan thank you for assisting Wrecker and...” Hunter deferred to... 

“Rueby!” Tipsy appeared, running up and embracing her and Wrecker. Then she ran to Vix and Tech hugging them both. “I’m SO GLAD everyone is safe!”  

Tech was surprised by the physical contact. But not put off about it either. 

Tipsy then embraced Hunter and planted a HUGE kiss on his lips. He leaned in, embracing the Twilek, kissing her deeply, then pulled away, face bright red. He turned to see everyone staring at him... 

...Anakin Skywalker gave Hunter a conspiratorial look and smiled...something passed between them both in an instant... 

...and it occurred to him suddenly WHY Anakin was so odd with Rex the other day on the landing pad, why he seemed to spend SO MUCH time with Senator Amidala. 

That DOG! His secret was safe with Hunter.  

“General Skywalker, General Kenobi.” Hunter cleared his throat and nodded to them both. 

Kenobi spied the nightclub on fire behind him then addressed Anakin. “Seems there may be more souls in need of our assistance.” 

Before Kenobi could brief his padawan, Anakin Force jumped from the craft...over the guardrail and the group, then ran TOWARDS the fire disappearing from view. 

Kenobi shook his head and sighed “A Jedi’s work is NEVER done. Stay safe, everyone!” He swung the craft around and headed towards the burning building. 

The group waved as he sped away, stunned by their Jedi antics. 

The night wasn’t a total loss.  

Our merry group convened at the local Waffle Hovel. It was Wrecker’s idea. 

The men pushed together several of the small tables to fit everyone in their party. Besides, Baash the “Awful Waffle’s” owner, was used to seeing people in all sorts of conditions after partying all night on Coruscant. He didn’t care, long as they paid the bill. 

Rueby, Tipsy, and Vix lamented that their wallet’s burned in the fire...as they certainly didn’t have pockets in their skimpy attire to carry on their person.  

“No worries, ladies. We’ve got you covered.” Hunter’s headache left him as soon as they stepped into the quiet establishment, smelling the wonderful aroma of Baash’s Space Flapjacks.  

His attention was also taken up by Tipsy, who sat across from him. They made silent goo-goo eyes at one another. 

Same for Wrecker. He and Rueby eyed each other over their menus, making funny puns about the food. 

Sitting across from one another and between the two smitten duos were Tech and Vix. They babbled and info dumped excitedly realizing they both shared a passion: Botany. 

“...we were lucky to have survived the carnivorous Meat Flower of Dagoba, and I must say...” Tech trailed off. “Whatever is the matter?” 

Vix had suddenly gone silent and sad. “I was SO CLOSE to being able to quit the Flushed Orchid...and start my studies. Have to find another job that will hire an Amaran...don’t know if we are going to see our last credits from this one.” 

Tipsy added “Bet that slummy boss of ours will take all the insurance payout credits and run off.” 

“He was probably betting on it being the Fried Orchid at some point. That man let the place go SO badly. And he’s got friends that will ignore the way he kept it to get those credits.” Rueby was angry. 

“We know people at 79’s who will happily hire you. That is if you want to continue bar work and dancing?” Hunter offered. 

“Yes! It was much harder to get hired in due to it being more upscale. I’ll take it!!! Tipsy perked up. “The pay is SO much better too.” 

Rueby smiled. “Whooo! I’ll get to dance at the REAL CLONE CLUBHOUSE!!!” 

“OOH, and I can visit ya at work in-between missions!” Wrecker was excited at the prospect. 

“Oh honey...YOU can visit me ANYTIME.” She released more pheromones. Wrecker almost floated away with pure bliss. 

Vix exhaled and exhaustedly hung her head. “I can’t do it. Tried so hard...but, the bar scene just isn’t for me.” 

Tech politely intervened. “I am quite certain you will qualify for some financial assistance, including dorm rooming as well...If you choose.  In addition, I shall speak to Coruscant University’s head administrator. They have some...’ wiggle room’ filling seats at their lectures.” 

Vix was speechless.  “Wait...what’s the catch?” She warily inquired. 

Tech and Hunter were taken aback by the query. 

Rueby and Wrecker ignored the conversation and kept flirting. The rest of the people at the table no longer took precedence. They were in their own little world. 

Tech added curtly “Vix, remember the clones who witnessed how you and I were treated tonight? And their refusal to step in to help a stranger in need...and a fellow brother.” The memory struck a chord with the otherwise emotionally removed clone. 

“Oh... Yes.” Vix’s face clouded with disappointment. 

“We are NOT like THEM.” Tech glibly answered.  

Hunter softened and fixed Tipsy and Vix with puppy dog eyes “Just want to help. We know what it’s like to struggle. There are no strings attached. WE PROMISE.” 

“Ehhhh, MY FAVORITE CLONES! And they got some company here. HELLO LADIES! What are we orderin’ tonight eh?” Baash swooped in. “Tonight's special is Baash’s Hash! Best spicy potatoes this side of Coruscant. Ha-HAAA!!!” 

Tech and Vix debated the various choices on the menu while Baash patiently assisted. 

“Mmmm...I LIKE spice...” Rueby eyed Wrecker. 

He giggled like a maniac. 

“Get a room you two.” Hunter sassed. 

He was then hit in the face with a wadded-up napkin from across the table. 

Tipsy’s lekku went from a light lavendar to a blushed grape color. He noticed her sly smile. Then he detected a heady scent just under the aroma of cooked food. 

She leaned forward and whispered, “Let’s get one of our own.” 

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

PLEASE like, comment, and REBLOG!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #tbb hunter #clone force 99 #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #the bad batch fan fic #the bad batch fan fiction #clone force 99 fan fic #clone force 99 fan fiction #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #shellymom #clone fic gift exchange #cloneficgiftexchange #tbb clone fic #tbb cloneficgift exchange #hexerein #tbb ballroom blitz #the bad batch ballroom blitz #Youtube

[somesecretpie]

Do you plan on making any other webcomics or stories?

I definitely have a lot of OCs and stories in me, but Broccoli Soup is gonna be loooooooong. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew. I'm not even like a third of the way through the story (I am, maybe, a fourth.) I have written some short fiction I've posted in a sideblog @secretpiewrites and made a song about the villian origin story of a Walmart Orchid who becomes a monster after being neglected https://open.spotify.com/track/4HBF2QwBk2PRxEAddcBRDs?si=QwrP7PiGT0yk70T75JDlxQ

(It's mixed kind of badly. I want to redo it once I learn more about music making haha)

I'll probably mostly stick to Broccoli Soup but may deviate to write the occasional song or short comic.

If you are curious about my other OCs who exist only in my head, I've got....

-A shapeshifting clone soldier who gets their hand cut off in a war, and that hand comes to life and becomes a weird hand-baby now they have to deal with being both an amputee and a parent.

-A woman with OCD who is terrified of parasites and germs who gets infected with an alien parasite (except it becomes like a venom situation and they are like homies. Kind of. Their relationship is complicated.)

-A robot who gets isekai'd into a high fantasy world and becomes a witch's apprentice. He is valuable in the fight against the dark lord, who eats souls, but as an android he has no soul hee hee.

Maybe I'll post about em some day

[gummygoatgalaxy]

Info on my DC oc Harvest aka Harvey Isley-Quinzel, the plant made clone of Harley and Poison Ivy

Oc Belongs to @gummy-goat-galaxy please do not steal

Info below

Name: Harvey Isley-Quinzel

Alias: Harvest

Status: Hero

Age: biologically one year older than Beast boy, technically 2 years old

Gender: She/Her

Species: Humanoid Plant-Made Clone/human hybrid

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Theme Song: Sweet but Psycho by Ava Max

Birthday/Creation Day: March 18

Zodiac: Aries

Voice Claim: Kimiko Glenn

•❃🍀FAVORITES🍀❃•

Favorite Colors: Green and Pink

Favorite Flower: Naked Man Orchids

Favorite Scent: Morning after rain in the forest of a mountain

Favorite Dessert: Donuts

Favorite Candy: Rock Candy

Favorite Drink: Strawberry Bubble Tea

Favorite Food: Philadelphia Roll Sushi

Favorite Fruit: Strawberries

Favorite Animal: All

Favorite Book: Warrior Cats

Favorite Video Game: God of War 4

Favorite Movies: Encanto

Favorite Song: Man on the Moon by Zella Day

Favorite Musical Artist: Jack Stauber

•❃🍀SKILLS🍀❃•

❀Singing, Fighting, Gardening❀

•❃🍀MAGIC🍀❃•

❀Chlorokinesis❀

•❃🍀LIKES AND DISLIKES🍀❃•

•❀Likes❀•

Nature, Music, Dancing, Food, Physical contact, Cartoons, Vintage things, Ancient History, Shiny things, Magic, memes, small comfy places, animals

•❀Dislikes❀•

Loved ones hurt, Rude/Cruel/Ignorant people, being ignored, secrets/lies, snobby people, clowns, the Joker

•❃🍀PERSONALITY🍀❃•

•❀Positive Traits❀•

Loyal, Loving, Friendly, Kind, Energetic

•❀Negative Traits❀•

Emotional, Oblivious, Gullible, Hot-headed

•❃🍀FEARS🍀❃•

failure, being ignored or forgotten, The Joker, Being Considered “Not a Person”

•❃🍀WEAKNESSES🍀❃•

Her easily triggered emotional attitude leads her to less than ideal circumstances

•❃🍀RELATIONSHIPS🍀❃•

✿ Mother/Creator✿

Pamela Isley aka Poison Ivy

✿Second Mother✿

Harlene Quinzel aka Harley Quinn

•❀Boyfriend❀•

Gar Logan aka Beast Boy

•❀Friends❀•

The Batfam

Teen Titans

•❀Enemies❀•

The Joker

Most Villains

•❃🍀BACKSTORY🍀❃•

Created from the DNA of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, she was made and incubated by a plant. She was born mentally and physically a teen, but she was alive and out of incubation for only a year and one quarter.

#my art #oc #my oc #dc teen titans #dc entertainment #dc universe #dc comcis #dc #dc gotham #gotham oc #dc oc #dc fanart #dc harley quinn #harley quinn #harlene quinzel #dc poison ivy #poison ivy #pamela isley #harley x ivy #harlivy #harlivy fanart #Harlivy fankid #harvest #Harvey isley-quinzel #gummygoatgalaxy

[talesfrommedinastation]

OC Prompt: r/amitheasshole

I saw this the other day, and while I can't find the original prompt, I had so much fun writing this from Sjael's Drummer's perspective! I love Reddit, lol

Taken from this chapter from Far Past the Ring:

-----------

AITA for being scientifically accurate?

I’m (F27) a postdoctoral scholar in chemical engineering, and am currently conducting research in the field. I’m looking at new places for potential colonization, as well as trying to figure out if this soil is garbage or not (hint, it’s not great, not bad). 

While I’ve been conducting research, I’ve been sort of seeing this guy (M,30’s? He hasn’t exactly stated). Let’s call him ‘Ryan’, because he looks like his name would be Ryan and he’d work in accounting, trust me on this one. 

(Look at that man and tell me he doesn't look like he'd get excited over an audit. TELL ME.)

He’s camping with his family (M 30’s, M 30’s, and F13, all his siblings) nearby. Ryan is awesome–just amazing. I’ve never met anyone as wonderful as him before. He’s so smart, honest, devoted to his family, and a great listener. The man knows everything about machines and computers, but if you’re confused about something, he doesn’t treat you like an idiot. If my papa was alive, he’d be all over Ryan like white on rice. 

So, Ryan and I hooked up for the first time last night. He is on the spectrum, but man, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who communicates as quickly and efficiently as he does. His post coital mood was to ask all about my vanilla orchid–I mean, who does that? The man is inquisitive as well as bright and kind. I’m really falling for him.

Well, I wanted to impress him, so after we had sex, I made a huge helping of mushroom pho from scratch, and invited his family over for dinner. Ryan even helped me cook, he’s such a sweetie. 

Now, his siblings look nothing like him–Ryan is very pale, with light hair, and slender, while his sister is very tan, short, but with bright blond hair. His brothers are his opposites, they’re tan like their sister, one has long dark hair, and the other one is huge and bald. You wouldn’t even think they’re siblings. I figured they all had different fathers, it happens, I don’t judge.  

At any rate, I found out the armies in this region are completely staffed by clone soldiers, and I brought this up at dinner, and pointed out how ridiculous it was. It sounds stupid, right? After all, how inefficient is a clone army?

If you wanted to get rid of them, wouldn’t you just genetically modify a disease after studying the clones, and then drop in within their encampments? Boom. War done in less then two weeks, no one could come up with a vaccine that quick. Almost every war has been won, in a weird way, by biological reasons, rather than battles. 

I thought Ryan–the smartest, most rational guy I’ve ever hooked up with–would agree with me. 

Nope! Ryan was infuriated with me. Stopped eating his pho, and just lectured me on how incorrect and rude I was being. Pointed out how the science allows for deviance within clones, and didn’t I as a Ph.D know any better? 

Then a bomb was dropped–turns out Ryan is a clone! He's a veteran of that army! And so are his siblings! 

I wanted to just sink into my soup, I was so embarrassed. His brother and sister tried to cheer me up afterwards, but Ryan was silent for the rest of dinner, and didn’t even say goodbye to me when they went back to their campsite. 

I like Ryan a lot, but I’m pretty sure I ruined my chances with him forever because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

AITA? It is the truth, clones generally have higher rates of close immune systems, after all, that’s how we studied medicine and effects for many years. But Ryan’s correct too, and I really upset him, just as we were getting close too. Ugh, what do I do?

#cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #tbb #the expanse #theexpanse #belter #fanfiction #starwarsfanfiction #techthebadbatch #tech #sjael drummer #phd stuff #am i the asshole #reddit #sjael would totally be a mod on r/foodporn #and stalk r/relationshipadvice #and/or constantly contribute to r/workingmoms #oc prompt #writing prompts #prompts

[irrfahrer]

Some OC questions from the meme! ☕📚🌗

༓･*.☽25 OC QUESTIONS☾.*･༓

☕ Give us one (or more if you feel like it) of your OCs deep dark secrets! Why do they keep it hidden? Spill the tea! Ziv is a murderer. During Order 66, Ziv had been as a Medic in a sickbay, so the Clones she had interacted with had all been in some way injured. Accordingly she survived out of luck. The one clone who came after murdering the other Healers for her as she was hiding, had already thrown away his blaster as it had been crushed with the force by another Healer. So he had dragged Ziv out of her hidingplace under one of the biodbeds by her hindpaws, held her in place on the ground and strangled her. Ziv panicky reached out and digged her claws in the Clone face and than did what she had learned to do as easy as breathing: Force Healing. In that matter of- she speeded up the celldeviding, but instead of stopping when the injur was healed she - panicky and frightened- never stopped until the clones biomoss died and started to rot under her paw. Ziv had murderd someone. She had murderd someone who she had just patched up a day before. Not only had she as a Helaer murdered someone. But she had used the most purest, beautiful Force-Technique commiting that murder. Ziv keeps what had happned to her during the Order 66 a secret out of shame and panic, but whenever she tries to reach out and use Forcehealing the "rotten face" is back in her mind, blocking the ability. She knows that people die in war, she knows that pepole die, there had been patients who had died despite her treatments, she knows that she had acted in pure self-defence, but she also knows that she is a healer and that her paws should save pepoples lifes instead of ending them. SHe also knows that she had murdered someone, who had been under he protection in the most gruesome way possible, not swiftly and clean, but by letting them rot alive until his biomass had drooped down on her, because she had been scared.

📚 If your OC was given some kind of forbiddon knowledge, what would they do with it? Would they tell anyone? Use it for evil or good? How would it change their outlook on life, if at all? Actually Ziv had already been forbidden, secret knowledge in the Form of the highly telepathic Murakami Orchid Sapling she carries aorund in a pendant around her neck. And she also does her best to research on the Story of Odacer-Faustin, on Darth Drear who still haunts her nightmares, and Darth Scabrous, so she could continue to keep the Murakami Orchid safe and the Sickness and its child the Blackwing Virus away from anyone in the Galaxy. Accordingly it might be suprising for somone like Ziv who seems to never stops talking, but she keeps the murakami orchid and its story an usage suprisingly well hidden, in fact there is noone beside herself who knows about the Orchid and since her mind can not be read due to her strong mindshield it will stay this way.

🌗 Early mornings or late nights? What do they spend their time doing during these hours? There is not a single time of the day in which Ziv is not moving- unless the herbs she uses to push herself wear off and she just drops uncouncious for a day or two wherever she is at the moment- but usually she orefers nights. Due to the Murakami Orchid going through her dreams and occaisonally a memory of a by the Sickness infected Ziv appears in her dreams, Ziv prefers to just gopple down a can of caf, take in stimulating herbs and power through whatever anyone else is calling night. In this time Ziv will continue to study for her work as a midwife and also conducts expierments for her botanic studies, prepares salves and oils from the healingherbs for her patients and, when she becomes too tiered, will try to meditate through Alchaka, because she is worried she would fall asleep when she would sit still.

#headcanon #this is from last december ;O; #I AM SO SORRY #irrfahrer #thanks for the ask ;-;

[cursed-critters]

Stop! Read this, or not.

Hey, anyone who happens to be here! I’m Rowan (he/they/it) , some non-binary creature who found their way to this app. I tend to hyperfixate on things for extended periods of time. I am not the best artist, but I try my best. I consider myself a fairly good writer who would like to publish one day. I find myself more focused on specific characters sometimes as opposed to the entire creation (be it a book, game, show, movie, etc.) I headcannon everything about whatever I’m into, no matter how pointless. I like to share things I think about, so please feel free to ask me about my headcannons! Ask me to write or draw things too! I also enjoy making AUs from time to time.

Fine me on Twitter where I post like almost the exact some stuff

My biggest fixations

•Batim (mostly Sammy)

•Fnaf (mostly William)

•Fnaf Novels (mostly Dave)

•Sally Face (mostly Larry and Travis)

•Little Nightmares (mostly Mono)

•Deltarune (mostly Rouxls)

•Undertale (mostly Burgerpants)

•Splatoon (mostly Marina)

•Pokémon (mostly James)

•Supernatural (mostly Cass and Dean)

•Dexter (mostly Dexter)

•Criminal Minds (mostly Reid)

•Steven Universe (mostly Garnet)

•Spooky Month (mostly Kevin)

•Lord of the Flies (mostly Simon)

•Detroit Become Human (mostly Connor and Hank)

•The Owl House (mostly Phillip)

•Gravity Falls (just in general)

•Ddlc (mostly Yuri)

•DuckTales (mostly Gyro)

•Tender is the Flesh (just in general)

•Dayshift (mostly Dave)

•Dialtown (mostly Randy)

•The Song of Achilles (just in general)

•Moral Orel (mostly Clay)

•Venom (mostly Eddie and Venom)

•Prisoners (mostly Alex / Barry)

•Freaky (just in general)

•Nimona (just in general)

•Alice in Wonderland (mostly the Cheshire Cat)

•Little Miss Sunshine (mostly Dwayne and Frank)

•Life is Strange (mostly Nathan and Kate)

•Life is Strange 2 (mostly Finn)

•Life is Strange True Colors (mostly Steph)

•Batman: The Telltale Series (mostly Oswald)

•Batman: The Enemy Within (mostly John)

•Barry (mostly NoHo Hank)

•Imposters (mostly Richard and Jules)

•Helluva Boss (mostly Stolas)

•Hazbin Hotel (mostly Angel Dust and Husk)

•Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (mostly Rahzar)

•Zombieland (mostly Tallahassee)

•Loki (mostly Loki and Mobius)

•The Shawshank Redemption (just in general)

•A Hat in Time (mostly Snatcher)

•Baldur’s Gate 3 (mostly Astarion)

•The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog (mostly Shadow)

•Sonic Prime (mostly Nine and Shadow)

•Sonic Forces (mostly Infinite and Ian Jr.)

•Sonic the Hedgehog Games (mostly Shadow)

•Beastars (mostly Jack)

•How to Train Your Dragon (mostly Dagur)

•The Batman (mostly Riddler)

•Gotham (mostly Penguin)

•Harley Quinn (just in general)

•DC (just in general)

•Monster High (mostly Toralei, Clawdeen, and Kieran)

•The Umbrella Academy (mostly Klaus)

•Adventure Time (mostly Ice King and Mr. Fox)

•Fionna and Cake (mostly Simon)

•Clone High (mostly JFK and Ponce)

Tagging information

-Most things will be tagged with specific fandoms or Oc

-My thoughts/rants will be tagged with Rowan Rants

-My art will be tagged with Cinnamon Creates

-My writing will be tagged with Rowan Writes

-My replies will be tagged with Rowan Replies

[jango-fettish]

The Asterian Saga: The Jedi

Chapter 1

Summary: As the daughter of a High Priestess of Asteria, Paghs Makosh was forced to live two lives: one of a Jedi and one that followed traditional Asterian ideals. After returning from a year long exploratory mission in uncharted space, Paghs discovers that her once peaceful home planet is on the brink of a civil war and those in charge, including her mother, are doing nothing to help the people. Now, Paghs must now grapple with her own beliefs and fears as her understanding of the Force and her place in the universe is tested by unforeseen forces.

Rating: R

Pairings: None yet; will be WolffeXOC

Warnings: descriptions of violence and injuries, death, talk of death/meaning of life (sorry if I forgot any, I am new at this)

Word Count: 2851

a/n: This is an OC story, so there is no use of “y/n” or second person perspective. The OC and her planet/culture are entirely my own creation: I cannot take credit for anything else. This takes place during TCW, but I have altered the timeline to fit my story, oops.

Gif by celebrate-the-clone-wars. Can be found here 

They had been taken by surprise, not realizing they were being followed until it was too late. The planetary monitoring systems on The Spectator had picked up no life forms or machinery in the sector the 00 Covert Commando Platoon landed in. It was supposed to be simple and easy, they were only surveying the land. 

The sound of blasters being fired was quickly followed by horrified yells and monstrous growls. The planet they landed on, Cromia P0F5 as the troopers called it, offered little options for cover, with only a few boulders and sparse trees jutting out from the barren ground granting the 36 troopers safety from the assault. 

Jedi Master Paghs Makosh of Asteria crouched behind a large rock with two of her men, Clone Commander Crusher and Dent. She was as much as a shinie as Dent was, with this being her first melee since passing her Trials and being sent on this exploratory mission. 

“Only took 326 days to see some sort of action,” Dent joked, as he fired at the enemy. 

“What are we dealing with, Commander?” Paghs asked, ignoring Dent. She would have found his comment more amusing, had it not been for a large boulder that flew inches from her head moments before she found cover with the two.

“Ground scans say 40 beings approaching from the west,” Crusher said. 

“How did our initial scans not pick this up?” Paghs asked herself. 

“Pace said they looked similar to Trandoshans,” Dent commented. 

Paghs cursed. She hadn’t been able to get a clear look at the creatures when they first attacked. If the creatures were similar to the cold-blooded species she was so used to seeing around the Republic, then they could surely have the ability to camouflage themselves from the scanners on The Spectator. 

“I hate lizards,” Crusher mumbled. 

Paghs clicked a button on her wrist communicator, opening the direct line with The Spectator. She didn’t have time to worry about scrambling their signal, “Captain, I’m going to need an immediate pick up in sector 3. I repeat, immediate pick up in sector 3.” 

“General,” the ship captain’s voice responded, “Sector 3 is surrounded by mountains, it’ll be difficult to navigate.” 

“Just do it!” she shouted in the communicator before ending the call. 

The snarls and growls and awful hissing noises from the unseen enemy suddenly stopped. It was too quiet, the only thing Paghs could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Her grip on her lightsaber was tight enough to make the orchid-colored skin of her knuckles nearly white.

The surrounding mountains did little to hide the scorching heat of the setting sun. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. As she wiped it away with the back of her hand, she felt a roll of uneasiness pass through her. It was like a thousand pins were being pricked into her skin, not hard enough to cause pain, but enough for her to be uncomfortable. It was a sign of danger. 

“Move!” she yelled to the two clones. She tried to Force push them out of the way, but the top of the rock they were hiding behind suddenly shattered, launching Paghs forward a few feet. 

Her chest hit the ground harder than expected, but it was her hands that took the brunt of the fall. Tiny rocks made a home for themselves in her palms and she could already feel the bruising begin to form. The rough landing disengaged her lightsaber, the green blade disappeared with a small hiss. Crusher landed to her right, far more gracefully than she had. He quickly positioned his weapon toward the rock. Paghs managed to roll to back, ignoring the burning ache that settled in her body.

She heard Dent’s screams before she realized what she was looking at. 

“Great Goddess,” Paghs said in horror. 

Hunched over the broken rock was a large lizard-like creature, it’s scaly arm outstretched and holding onto Dent’s neck. Three sharp claws dug into the clone’s helmet, puncturing the plastoid-alloy material.  He was screaming, trying to get his gun at the ready, but his screams only seemed to piss the creature off more. With a single squeeze from the large claw of a hand, the scream was replaced with a sharp snap. 

“Dent!” Paghs screamed, scrambling to her feet as the creature threw his lifeless body haphazardly to the side. 

“Definitely uglier than Trandoshans,” Crusher commented. She didn’t say respond, afraid that if she opened her mouth, more than just words would come out. 

The creature slowly began climbing down the rock, its body contorting to easily get around the jagged edges. Two black beady eyes examined her from their giant scaly sockets. It stood on all fours, its barbed tail, which was equally as sharp as its claws, whipped through the air with a crack. The creature’s large mouth curved upwards into an open smile, revealing razor sharp teeth. It was mocking them, mocking the death of their comrade. She didn’t notice two smaller creatures approaching from the sides until she felt a hand grab her arm, forcing her into a retreat. 

Scrambling to her feet, Paghs ran towards the rendezvous point. The Spectator was a klick away, hovering above the ground. A few of the faster clones had made it aboard. Those that struggled to keep up were taken down from their flanks by the pack of creatures. It was a hunt for them. They were being hunted.

“Ahh!” Paghs heard from her right as one of the smaller creatures swiped at Crusher’s feet, bringing him down. She skidded to a halt, igniting her lightsaber. Crusher’s helmet was forced off his head in the fall, landing at Paghs’s feet. 

The smaller creature swatted at the fallen trooper, dragging its claws down his face. Crusher screamed in pain, pulling the trigger of his blaster and unloading everything into the creature’s body. It cried out in pain and in a puff of smoke, it slumped over and fell to the side. 

Paghs ran to Crusher’s side. She couldn’t look at his face, too fearful of the bloody mess that would be looking back at her. Her mind was racing as she knelt next to him. She was supposed to protect him, she was supposed to protect all of them and she was failing.

Crusher groaned in pain. His hand reached to his right ankle; it having been injured in the fall. 

“General, watch out!” Crusher called. 

His warning came too late.

She heard a whoosh through the air, as the creature she thought Crusher had killed, swung its formidable tail at her. She tumbled forward, the air violently escaping from her lungs for a second time. Her hands and face scarped on the gravel laden ground. There was a searing pain in her back, but she was too dazed from the fall to react. As the creature ripped its tail free from the skin of her back, a few of the spikes broke off and rooted themselves into her flesh.

This time she screamed.

The creature grabbed her ankle, pulling her closer to its mangled body. She squirmed, turning onto her back. She bit the insides of her cheeks bloody, holding in her cries as the ground pushed the spikes further into her back. The creature jumped on top of her and began swiping its claws towards her face. Paghs used her weaning strength to keep the creature at bay, holding onto its arms. It roared, the loud guttural tone drowning out the screams of troopers. It lurched its ghastly face forward, teeth bared and dripping with saliva.  

“I kriffing hate lizards!” She heard Crusher yell before a red blaster shot hit the creature in its head. 

The creature’s black eyes slowly lost their life and its body began to grow heavy. It dropped dead to the ground, half of it still laying on Paghs. Its open jaw just missed her face. She mustered her strength and attempted to push it off of her, the muscles in her arms throbbing with each push.

“I got you, General,” Crusher said from behind her. He looped his arms under hers and began dragging Paghs’s out from under the creature. She cried out in pain as one of the barbs in her back was pushed down, elongating the cut it had originally made.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry,” Crusher whispered.

“We are not going to die on this stupid planet,” Paghs growled when she was finally free. She tried to ignore the searing pain in her back and could feel the blood freely flowing down and seep into the leather plackart. 

She wrapped her arm around Crusher, his ankle no longer able to keep him standing steadily. They were surrounded by at least six of the creatures, each growling ferociously and circling around them as animals did when they cornered their prey. Paghs looked around, trying to find a weak point in their circle. 

“General,” a voice from her wrist communication device called, “Are you alright? We lost sight of you for a moment.” 

“I’m fine,” she said, “Captain, move the ship to my starboard, keep her a good 40 feet from the ground, we don’t know how high these things can jump.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“What do you have planned?” Crusher said weakly. He was pointing his gun at the largest creature, the one that killed Dent. 

“You are not going to like it,” she answered.

“Paghs,” Crusher warned. 

“Do you trust me?” she asked. 

He paused for a moment, “With my life.”  

“We’re going to be okay,” she said, finally looking at Crusher. “You’re going to be okay.”  

*********

“General, are you okay? General?” a voice asked, forcing the Asterian out of her memories. It was the warm hand on her shoulder that fully pulled her back to reality. She jumped up, nearly falling out of her seat. Crusher stood next to her, his helmet was placed on the table next to her. Three jagged lines were painted into the side of it. Crusher told her it was a memorial to the people they lost, Paghs just thought it was another way to remember a terrible day. 

“You sure you’re a Jedi?” Crusher jested. Though his tone was light, Paghs could see concern in his eyes. “You’ve been staring at this blasted thing for hours. ”

Paghs turned in her seat lethargically to stare at the blue toned holomap of Cromia P0F5. It had been weeks since they escaped the planet, weeks since she even thought of those creatures, of the men she lost. Her mouth felt dry.

“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat, “Was just trying to finish the write up.”

“Thought I told you I was going to do that,” Crusher said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She looked at him, or rather looked at the scars that ran down half of his face. The three thin lines were pink and irritated, one running through the corner of his mouth giving him a permanent frown. She wondered if they hurt as much as or more than her own. The medic droid did what it could, but Bacta couldn’t fix everything.

“I’m faster at it,” she replied, trying not to catch his eyes.

“It’s been weeks,” he said flatly. She didn’t respond and looked away in shame. “Am I really that ugly to look at?”

Paghs tried to choke on her laugh, “Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” he said with a sigh. He pulled back an open chair next to her and sat down. “We’ll be back in Coruscant in less than six hours, which means you’ll be presenting everything to the Senate in seven.”

“Unless this ship falls apart first,” she snorted. The Spectator, while a good ship, was old and outdated.

“Go get some rest, I’ll finish this report.”

“Jeez, I thought I was the superior officer here,” she half-heartedly joked. “I’ve had enough rest, thank you very much.” It was a lie. She had barely been able to sleep through the nights, plagued by nightmares.

“You excited to be back?” she asked, wanting to change the subject. She stretched her arms up, feeling a twinge of pain in her back as the skin stretched.  

“I’m excited to not be stuck on this ship anymore,” Crusher said nonchalantly.  

“Is my company really that bad?”

“Not as bad as the food.”

“You wound me,” Paghs said, dramatically putting a hand to her chest. “After all I have done for you, this is how you treat me.”

“Are you excited to be back?” Crusher asked, ignoring her theatrics.

“Oh totally,” she said sarcastically, “I am so ready to face the Senate and tell them all about our little adventures. You know she’s probably going to be there. That woman is insufferable.”

“Aren’t all Senators?”

“You know what Master Plo told me before communications with the Republic cut off? That she is the leader of the damn opposition for this mission.”

“You let her affect your feelings too much.”

“Great Goddess, you sound like the Council,” she said.

“Something else bothering you?” Crusher asked. He knew the answer. Of course something else was bothering her.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“The boys are worried about you.”

She sighed and leaned back in the chair, running her hands through her silver hair, letting her fingers tug at the knots. She looked back at the holomap of Cromia P0F5, a deep frown settling on her face.

“You’ve been thinking about it again, haven’t you?” Crusher asked, breaking the silence.

“I always think about it,” she whispered.

“There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

“I could have felt around in the Force, acted quicker. I could have saved everyone.” Paghs knew it wasn’t exactly how the Force worked, but she felt like she had to make an excuse for what happened.

“This is what we were created for, General. To die in battle...to die for the Republic is an honor for any clone.”

“It’s also an honor to see what you are fighting for survive,” Paghs countered. “You’re not just soldiers...you’re men,” she paused, “They at least deserved a proper burial.”

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la,” Crusher said softly. Paghs had heard the Mando’a words multiple times since their time on Cromia P035. One of the medic clones had told her it was the Mandalorian words for the departed: Not gone, merely marching far away.

It was her fault the clones had to say them.

The conversation had taken a turn too heavy for Paghs to handle at the moment. She looked back to Crusher. His eyes were shut, enjoying the moment of silence. He looked peaceful, the most peaceful she had seen him in awhile. She would have to remind herself to give him and the rest of the team the proper leave time when they returned to Coruscant. They deserved to be able to actually relax before being thrown into another battle.

She looked to his scar again and felt the bile raise up in her throat. She didn’t understand how he was able to be so nonchalant about what happened. Maybe it was the clones programming or maybe it was because he was experienced in the field. She remembered staying by his bedside in the Medic Wing. She nearly tore apart the medic droid for the quick, almost sloppy, work it did dressing his wounds. Even after her outburst, they still did not give the same amount of care to Crusher’s injury as they did with hers.

“Will you please get a medic to check that thing out before you finish the debriefing for me?” she asked gently.

He opened his eyes, a large grin forming, “What’s that blasted droid going to do that it hasn’t done already? Besides, I’ve been told that Coruscanti women go crazy for one of these.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Paghs said, rolling her eyes. She looked out the main window on the command deck. They would reach Coruscant soon enough.

As the hundreds of stars passed by in the cerulean haze of hyperspace, a dull ache formed into the base of Paghs’s head. It creeped up her neck and into her skull, settling just behind her eyes. It gnawed away at her mind, forcing any other thought or semblance of peace away until it was the only thing present. She had felt this only once before, just before they left the atmosphere of Coruscant all those months ago. She had tried to forget the awful feeling, believing that it was just her nerves of going on her first solo mission. But now she couldn’t ignore it; she couldn’t wish it away. 

“Something wrong, General?” Crusher asked.

“We’ve been gone for over a year,” she began. “Great Goddess, we haven’t even heard from anyone outside this ship months. I’m just...maybe I’m just worried that we aren't coming back to what we left.” She said with a frown.

“I’m sure they’re worried too.”

“What do you mean?”

“We aren’t the same people that left a year ago, General,” he said. “And that should worry you as well.”

#finally posting this lol #star wars fanfiction #a-dorin #tagging kenna because she said she wanted to read it when i first was writing it #sorry kenna lol #comments are wanted and appreciated #was unsure about posting this but i need to get over my anxieties #lol yes i deleted the sneak peek and decided to just post the whole chapter instead #im aware the gif is commander ponds but i didnt know what else to use #wolffe x oc #wolffe #commander wolffe #tcw fanfic #commander wolffe x oc #sw #fanfiction #what other tags does one add?? #The Asterian Saga #clone wars #the clones wars #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars #writing

[fairyhaven13]

I didn’t make the background; I used a screenshot from the Star Trek Online game. These are my Star Trek: Deep Space Nine OCs. I again experimented with brush textures; I used a chalk for the shading, because I liked the chiseled look it gave the image, and I used a crosshatch brush for the clothing textures on the rightmost character. 

I desperately wanted to give the Vorta a lush head of curly hair, but her thing is that she was “raised” by Romulans, so I had to give her a Romulan do. Very unfortunate, but I can say that part of her arc is separating herself from those Romulan regulations and maybe draw a later version of her with curly hair. I also wondered if the Trill girl’s outfit was too bright and loud, but then I remembered that Ferengi wear suits made of rainbow sparkles and felt better. I’m pretty happy with how their different body shapes came out.

Character descriptions under the cut. It’s very long this time, I had a lot of thoughts.

Ryakna was a defective Vorta clone that regressed to some of her early genetics in the cloning facility. When she refused to activate her suicide gland, her superiors attempted to kill her and threw her body out in a garbage trolley. The trolley passed by a small moon settled by Romulans, and they found her barely alive inside. This is where she got her name--Ryakna means “garbage.” She has no memory of her past clones, only some vague memories of living in trees. The Romulans healed her and then trained her to be a bodyguard servant for the chief’s house family. 

She’s adept in both Romulan martial arts and in Romulan assassination tactics. When the moon’s settlement inevitably fell to civil war--due to another family trying to usurp the chief, as Romulans are wont to do--one of the chief’s daughters took pity on Ryakna and helped her escape. She wandered for a while before ending up on Deep Space Nine in one of their refugee groups. This was early on in the series, before the crew knew what a Vorta was, so they welcomed her onboard and allowed her to become a security officer under Odo’s leadership.

Sera Hamilton was a half-Trill, half-human girl who was unable to become Joined due to her human heritage. To Trill, and to her father, this made her a second-class citizen. She took her mother’s last name and was raised on Earth instead, to escape the oppression. Eventually, she joined a group of Earth’s settlers heading for Deep Space Nine, hoping to help build the frontier. 

She made her outfit herself, as a tribute to the orchids her mother grew back home. Garak took notice and hired her as his assistant, to do the hemming and some of the concept design in his tailor’s shop. She’s the opposite of Ryakna; where the Vorta is gruff and introverted, Sera is bubbly and chatty. Ryakna prefers to meet mind with mind in interactions, to the point of being philosophical, and Sera prefers lively conversations full of jokes and laughter. Garak finds Sera charming, but very naive, and appreciates Ryakna’s intellect more.

As the series goes on, they both have growing up to do. Ryakna has a similar revelation to Odo; Odo’s name means “nothing,” and at first that was all he thought of himself as. Over time, building friendships on the station has them begin to think of their names as just that, names, and see how others care about them. Ryakna also relates to both Odo and Garak in being one of the only members of their species not involved in the Dominion’s side of the war.

Sera becomes less immediately trusting, especially after Weyoun takes over the station the first time. She initially thinks she can befriend him and show him how he’s wrong, but he very cheerfully almost gets her executed before Kira rescues her. Weyoun also tries to get rid of Ryakna, finding her defection reprehensible, but Odo gets very upset with him and puts a stop to that.

By the end of the series, I have a sort of sequel planned, the big closure for their arcs. There’s a secret planet where the Founders tried to experiment with making Vorta more “mouldable,” more liquid than solid, more controllable as slaves and weapons. This resulted in a facility akin to Resident Evil’s Biohazard, where everything went wrong, the experiments went mad, and the Founders created the disease that eventually starts killing them in the series. Weyoun 9 finds himself on this planet, and a set of messages make their way to Ryakna, Sera, and Garak, telling them in different ways to come to the planet and stop the Founders. 

This results in Sera teaming up with Weyoun, and them finding out about the experiments, causing Weyoun to painfully realize that not only did the Founders lie and demolish many of his race’s lives, but they can’t be gods if they were able to be killed by their own experiments. Garak and Ryakna team up meanwhile and have some closure over both their difficulties with their people’s stubborness and with each other, and when Garak sees Weyoun save Sera from the experiments, he decides not to kill him for her sake. Although he does continuously snark and threaten him. 

It ends with Ryakna and Garak--and Sera and Weyoun--being open to getting together romantically, although they all have to deal with a whole lot of mess that the Dominion has left them with first.

#star trek #oc #deep space nine #ds9 #vorta #trill #garak #odo #weyoun #reform #i'm very happy with these two #but their stories are complicated #and the show is so LONG #i don't know when i will ever #have the willpower to start actually writing

[jess-cookierun-art]

I have an idea and it’s that there were previous clones before Flower Garden Cookie and I’m getting inspired by the Grimwalkers from TOH

There were eight clones before her made by Dark Enchantress Cookie

Each time they fail, they get crumbled and a new one is created so Flower Garden Cookie is the current one

I’ll make a separate post about them and what was their fate before the next clone is created

Also I haven’t thought of a reason why Dark Enchantress Cookie would make them

#jess talks #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #dark enchantress cookie #flower garden cookie #fuck it im tagging all the clones #vanilla lily cookie #silver lily cookie #lily bouquet cookie #lily pad cookie #lily pond cookie #lily bud cookie #lily garden cookie #even tagging the og source herself #white lily cookie #headcanons #oc headcanons #lily orchid cookie

[iceice-baeby]

Was tagged by: @scarlet--holmes Answer 11 questions and make up 11 new ones, then tag people to answer the new questions again. Do you believe in conspiracies? That really depends on the conspiracy. If it actually has any backing and sounds logical, like “Erdogan planned the Putsh on himself to make himself look better and gain more power” I think that sounds perfectly logical. And honestly, who would be surprised at that one. Would you rather go to the past or the future? Why? That is a good questionnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. But I think into the future, new technologyy and science ficiton, if humanity makes it so far! How did your parents meet? No idea, and dont care. Pinapples on pizza: yes or no? Yes. Because its tasty, deal with it Which city would you like to visit? Oh god. There is way too much cities I wanna visit... BUTTTTTTTTTTTT I think London again. I really loved it when I visited there, and now I actually speak the language properly xD Tell us something about your OCs (if you have any)! DUDE. Which one? I have too many. I can just go with like... four for a moment here.

Okay, here we go then. 1.) Melissa Hummel One of the infamous Failures, a fairy that is still very tiny and doesnt even have wings big enough to support herself, so she cant even fly. She may be the most useless fairy around, since her magic doesnt even work as well as it should, but se still has some bite. The most grumpy, agressive and antisocial fairy you can find around. Will always drag her friends into the biggest bullshit. What she doesnt have in literally anything else, she gained in her will to fuck up the life of everyone around her. Senior Student in “The Academy of Failures” 2.) Ophelia A mild mannered Dryad, seemingly completely harmless, friendly, and only shy’s away from people a lot. However, she is not a normal Dryad, bound to a tree. Instead, she is one of the rare Flowerbound Dryads, her flower being an Orchid. With her flower she was born with the power to suck the life out of other Dryads, like Orchids suck the life out of trees, and she is the specific type of Failure known as “Parasyte”. Considering how Failues are treated in Orchid society, she was originally planned to be killed right after her birth, but her family was one of the most influencal ones in her world and she was spared thanks to them. Her family still thinks that it could be useful to have her as a threat in their backhand, and send her to the Academy of Failures to integrate her into normal society well enough to blend in. Ophelia does not mind. If it wouldnt be for her family she would be dead, so she accepts their will. 3.) Feliks Yuriovich Dubinsky Now to an OC from another story of mine, Feliks. He is a russian, kind hearted plant-fanatic, and works for the “Organisation” as an agent for special cases. The Object his powers are tied to is his headscarf, and the powers he DOES possess thanks to it is life control. Well, only plants so far, control or making of more complex life forms would need a lot more training. He lives together with his husband Louis, their Munchkin cat Baguette and his Partner in the Organisation, Nora. He is one of the most valued members of the Organisation, if only for the fact that he makes the least of trouble and goes through with the most solved cases. He is loyal, upbeat and stays calm even under a lot of pressure. He never really looses his nerves and can work with a lot of different people really well, he has quite the calming aura. 4.) Nora Klein And as for the last OC, Nora, the main character of one of my stories! She is of German nationality, cynical, suicidal and immortal. She discovered that she accidentally got superpowers with her new little hourglass when she had planned on shooting herself in the head, but failed to die through it. Now, she is understandably pissed, and the fact that the Organisation found her through it and recruited her sort of against her will and now keeps the little hourglass with her superpowers locked away so she cant destroy it does not help her at all. She is sarcastic, snarky, depressed and hates her job, but still has to do it. The only thing that does make her life better is her Partner Feliks, who slowly warmed up to her and won over her heart, and now does his best to make her life as bearable as possible. And she appreciates him a lot for it. She also slowly befriended his husband as well (and his Ex but thats another point), and becomes more and more open as time goes on thanks to her beloved partner. (The story will end up in a poly relationship btw, between Feliks, Nora and Louis)

Do you have any “guilty pleasures”? I do, but nothing I will admit to xD What is your Zodiac sign? Does it suit your personality? Capricorn, and... only half. Only a little bit, not as much. Do you have a favourite period in history? Victorian England, if only because I really love Steampunk a lot. Are you planning to enter a university? Why or why not? I am, but I fear I do not have the grades for it. However, I would learn to learn some things I could not learn otherwise. How did you discover your favourite fandom? I wish I could remember. I love Hetalia and I wish I knew how I started with it.

Now to my questions: 1. Which answer of the “Would you fuck your clone” meme would be your response? 2. Tell me about your favourite of your OCs 3. How many Exes do you have? 4. What is your favourite animal, and if you could have ANY animal as a pet, which one would it be? 5. The OTP of your OTPs? 6. Most hated character that deserves to be flinged into the sun? 7. Worst fandom that deserves to be flinged into the sun? 8. What is a game you really love the characters from, but where the story is weak? 9. A game where the story is great, but the characters weak? 10. Russia or America: If you would visit one or the other, which one and why? 11. Rifle, Bow and Arrow, Gun or Crossbow? Tagging: @softestconnor, @theeggshavelegs, @giripans-googlehistory, @artsbysmarty, @askbountyhunterjones, @wait-what-pancakes, @paachubelle, @askhunterludwig, @asktheitalianempire, @spitfire-diavolo-lovi, @hetaliatime

[venomsbabe]

I have a question.

Its been bugging me for a bit now.

Can venom block spider sense only from peter parker spiderman or can that extend to all other spider-men n spidey characters?

Like my oc orchid? She had her powers cloned from spiderman. Just the mutanted powers.

Or is it specifically to ONLY peter parker spiderman?

I need to know so i can write my oc n venoms interactions better.

Please it would be appreciated any thoughts. It doesn't have to be what the comics say. I wanna know what makes the most sense.

I feel like its only peter parker spiderman but i am not sure.

Since the whole blocking spider sense thing hasn't been explored much other than a "i scare spiderman lolz" plot device.

Cuz spiderman can sense things that aren't dangerous as well. Basicly its anything thats near him right? So im not sure.

I guess i can write it that since her powers are spliced from peter parkers spiderman powers dna. It can extend to her. But again im not sure how to take this.

Any help would be appreciated

#venom #vennie #eddiebear #eddie brock #venom trash #venrp #orchid #my oc #my oc orchid #question for my fans and followers #question for my followers

[jess-cookierun-art]

Hi small update regarding one of the White Lily clones

Lily Orchard Cookie (the first clone) is now renamed Lily Orchid Cookie due to a certain SU reviewer of the same name and someone commenting about it on twitter

#jess talks #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #white lily cookie clones #lily orchid cookie #that’s her new tag and name #it was going to happen eventually #like i knew it was going to happen #hence the name change