#especially if they still served together in the clone wars

[whorevader]

Now if Mace went back. Then I genuinely think that one AU about Mace Windu going back and becoming Anakin's master would happen, I can't remember who that belongs to but like it's well accounted for. Mace would try to step in, as he wanted to in that one comic panel I've seen where he's like I don't like how we are letting Anakin get groomed actually >:/. Unless I conjured that in a dream

The idea that if post redemption Anakin was sent back he'd do anything besides trying to work out how to take down Palpatine without disrupting the timeline enough to prevent Luke and Leia's birth... I'm sorry, Obi-Wan would be a major factor in Anakin's wider plans, but he himself wouldn't be priority... which is WAY more interesting to me, how would Obi-Wan handle not being the center of Anakin's world with little explanation and combined with strange behavior? I picture him going to the council with his concerns, but them being, not approving of Anakin, never that, but amenable to the changes in his attitude. Yoda tells him to support these improvements, and if Anakin suggests any less than warm feelings for the senator, great, they'd rather he not be in the man's pocket anyway (even if they do keep sending him to visit the man privately like responsible jedi who care for child safety). I'd like to see someone write how Obi-Wan handles that. Because I truly don't see Anakin trusting him with his knowledge of the future, and I do think Obi-Wan would be shaken to have love-monster, validation-hungry padawan Anakin suddenly cool on him overnight and focus on... Idk it would depend on what Anakin's plan would hinge on, and I don't think he'd blow his chance to right things by being a toddler and running straight at the sith lord guns blazing, I think he was a powerful opponeny both as Vader and Anakin, and not just for sheer strength.

Anyway. Here's to an ANH-compliant ambivalent-to-Obi-Wan time traveling Anakin and a confused and suspicious younger Obi-Wan grappling with that

[dontbelasagnax]

*curling like a cat against your ankles* Lasaganie, more Codywan headcanons?? 🥺👉👈 (only if you gave them/want to share of course. thank you, you’re amazing and I love you :3c)

I am late but I come bearing gifts in the shape of the codywan headcanons you asked for!!! And I love you too 🫶

- In a no order 66 setting, Obi-Wan has a caf mug that he considers to be Cody's. This would be normal except Obi-Wan bought it during the war and always meant to find the occasion to give it to him but never got around to it. That's to say he's exceedingly normal about this cup. Especially when Cody starts spending time around his apartment and Obi-Wan serves him caf in it. For the first time. Then all the other times as well. Feeling his heart crack open seeing Cody with His Designated Mug. A mug Obi-Wan's perhaps had too much time to place too much sentimental value onto. He's perfectly normal about it and doesn't act weird at all.

(more headcanons under the cut. it's a bit long)

- Cody is a hopeless romantic but won't ever admit it. He loves romance novels and holofilms. From trashy to highly acclaimed, sweet to stuffed with depravity, he enjoys them all. They're just a spot of escapism for him. A fantastical tale to distract himself from the toll of war when the night cycle is quiet and grief is loud. The stories are all so wildly outlandishly unrealistic to him. He's a clone. There's no future for him outside his role in the war effort.

And then one fateful campaign they're on their feet for a full tenday before they encounter an outcropping with flora and fauna that, finally, aren't actively trying to kill them and they are able to set up a tentative base of operation while planetside.

General Kenobi insists everyone rest while they can. Cody lost his bedroll to some sort of carnivorous plant along the way. General Kenobi acts like it's an affront to his very livelihood when Cody tries to sleep on the ground of their shared tent. Cody is tired. He doesn't have the energy to fight back on something so stupid. Which means they have to share a bedroll. His general's bedroll. Where they're physically incapable of both laying on the little mat unless they're plastered together. Cuddling.

It's the best sleep of his life.

...Exactly like how the romance novels describe it.

He's not dumb. He's been aware that he's in love with his general. He just thought the romance novels were all embellishing to a ridiculous degree and none of it was actually... realistic.

But if the romance novels are right about this, what else is just as magical in reality?

And maybe, just maybe, could there be some hope for a glimmer of a chance for him to pursue something else with Obi-Wan after the war, if they both make it that far?

- I am fully of the belief that, in a Tatooine husbands setting, the husband bit is a complete accident. Ben is stopping by for a quick pantry restock at the Pica Oaisis marketplace when it happens. He's lived at his hut long enough for the vendors here to have a familiarity with him so it's not exactly a surprise when one says to him, "Who's the shadow of a fella that's hangin' with you lately?" They mean well, he knows. And still, it's his business. He thinks his answer is quite crafty.

He says, "He's my partner," and leaves it at that. Partner could mean anything. Alas, either an older man living in an isolated hut with another older man implies a particular thing about their relationship or the vendors have a flair for the romantic because he quickly comes to discover on his next trips to the marketplace that he has a husband. Of all the assumptions one could make, it's certainly the most harmless and... he finds he likes it. Being seen as Cody's husband. It's all awfully embarrassing and he doesn't dare tell Cody any of it.

Cody discovers it for himself a few weeks later on a solo trip to the market to pick up some feed for Rooh.

"Here to do your husband's bidding?" a vendor asks and Cody blinks.

He blinks again. "Come again?" he says.

"Ben your husband; you're running his errand?"

His first instinct is to correct them, tell them he and Ben aren't married. But how would he even begin describe their relationship? After a few seconds deliberating he decides he's better off going with it. What harm could it do? Besides, on the ride home, he finds he kind of likes it.

And that's how they become husbands. Well, the beginning of it, anyhow.

[dcdreamblog]

Question.

I have heard people assert that the current bearer of the heroic identy of the Guardian is a clone of the original. I have also seen photos of The Guardian working with the Titans, and...he's very clearly a Black man.

So, um. I have questions, because you would think the newspapers back in the '30s would have... mentioned this, especially given how he was reported to have campaigned hard to ease ethnic tensions in the poorer parts of Depression-era Metropolis, denouncing those who exploited or exacerbated those tensions as being friends of crime and enemies of America's ideals even before the War started?

Ok so, we're crossing a lot of streams here and I want to you to know that that's normal. These sorts of things are opaque and confusing and that is why we HAVE people like my in the first place. You are thinking of 3 different men right now. In order:

Guardian I, AKA James Jacob "Jim" Harper

(Sketch of Harper and his wards the "Newsboy Legion" signed by the legendary pop artist and correspondent Jack Kirby)

Harper was indeed born and raised as an orphan in the Metropolis neighborhood known as Suicide Slum (the name has stuck but I can tell you, in the 21st century it's as clean and safe as the rest of Metropolis, mostly to Black Lightning's credit). During the depression it was infamous for a reason, flush with organized crime, poverty and corruption.

Harper originally attempted to serve his community as a police officer but found that the police department was half or more of what was wrong with the neighborhood in the first place. After being assaulted by some gangsters he cobbled a costume together from a nearby shop (which he still paid for, incidentally). Bursting into a nearby pool hall his attackers frequented, he actually ended up busting open a rather high profile kidnapping case.

Eventually he became the legal guardian of a group of young delinquents called the Newsboy Legion and helped to turn them toward the path of righteousness. He joined up with the All Star Squadron early, served with distinction during and after the war. (We have an exhibit here all about him, the costume and shield are reproductions of course because both are still in use more or less, even if they weren't they're rightfully in the hands of his next of kin)

He was cloned under vile circumstances by the equally vile Project Cadmus, who were up to all kinds of immoral and unethical genetic experiments. When Harper attempted to put a stop to it, he was killed by Cadmus' head of security.

The murder was uncovered and prosecuted through the combined work of Superboy, the clone of Harper and Cadmus' secretly enslaved workforce the Genomorphs. Who are a subject all of their own but, if any should be reading this, I hope you are thriving.

The cloned Harper is still active as a superhero in the modern day. One can assume under an assumed name but variants of "Jim Harper" wouldn't jump out at people even if he was going by it day to day. Out of respect for his privacy I'm not going to speculate any further into his personal life, one can assume he has been through MORE than enough.

Now the other man you spoke about is VERY mysterious indeed...

(The 3rd Guardian alongside Bumblebee in battle against The Ant, unknown photographer, posted online) You are right in that he is very clearly a black man and that is basically ALL I can say about him. He seems to come and go, always in the company of the Teen Titans, is in some manner of romantic relationship to mainstay member Bumblebee and he just up and vanishes for long stretches of time. (This was put together by clips captured of them in combat. Referring to Bumblebee as "baby", "dear" or "my girl". And being referred to as "babe", "lover" and "man of mine")

Theories, of course, abound with the most popular one being that he is the romantic partner/husband/whatever of Bumblebee in their civilian identities and while not a superhero by trade he will take up this identity when needed. A "friend of the family" I guess you could say who hops in when the Titans need an extra pair of hands.

He's competent in combat and seems to be trusted implicitly by the Titans themselves so who the hell am I to judge?

[thecleverqueer]

Y’all.

The point of the Clone Wars flashback in the Ahsoka series was partially fan service. Yes. But, those of you that are mad that Obi-Wan and Cody and Waxer and Boil and Mace Windu and Ursa Wren and Gar Saxon and Maul and Bo-Katan Kryze and Rook Cast weren’t in it missed the whole goddamned point of the flashback, so let me explain:

Everyone has bitched tirelessly about Ahsoka being stoic and reserved and “not like herself” (I will die on the “she’s in her forties…leave my baby girl alone… she’s tired, sore and premenopausal…” hill, still…)

Ultimately, she’s been “out of character” because she was carrying all of the Anakin trauma around like a two hundred pound weight on her shoulders. She blamed herself, and she feared who she was so much so that she was unwilling to get close to others and spread the wisdom that the years have afforded her…something a Jedi just does. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Enter this sequence… the moment she FINALLY lets go of the Anakin guilt/ hang ups.

I knew something like this was coming. Some moment that changed her back to the more recognizable Ahsoka. The one that embraced her friends. The one that was willing to share the lessons that she learned with others. The one that would have loved to have a padawan of her own. The one that wasn’t always running away, being flaky.

This was it. And, there were two big takeaways from the moment.

1.) Anakin was always Vader, and Vader was always Anakin… and she had nothing to do with that. Her leaving the order played literally no role. It wasn’t on her. It never was. He was already teetering on that line way before she entered his life. I mean, he slaughtered an entire village of Tuskens down to the last woman and child. He said and did questionable shit to Ahsoka herself too throughout their time together. Was he like a brother to her? Sure. Was he borderline abusive at times? Also, yes. Regardless, her eyes were opened in that first battle…where he basically told her to fight or die. Fair, under the circumstances… still, Ahsoka was trained to be a Jedi, not a murderer. Anakin relished in it. She didn’t really, especially when it came to losing her own men in battle. The clones were her friends, her brothers. Anakin didn’t seem to give a shit about the clones. Unsurprising.

2.) She realized that it wasn’t just Anakin’s legacy that she would carry on. She has her own legacy. It doesn’t have to be one of death and destruction. Is Ahsoka a lot like Anakin? Yes. She’s impulsive, hot-headed, stubborn, emotional, and intense, but that’s not all. Ahsoka is caring, patient, understanding, and loving in a compassionate sense. She’s grown wise, strong and sage. Anakin isn’t the only part of her line and that legacy… Obi-Wan is a part. Qui-Gon is a part. Yoda is a part. Ahsoka is a little bit of all of them. It made her realize that she’s so much more than just a warrior. She’s a great Jedi like the ones that came before her. Inevitably, she has a choice. She can choose not to serve the dark, despite it being part of that legacy, and she can pass on what she has learned without fear.

The moment was about just that. It wasn’t meant to actually be an episode of The Clone Wars. The flashback served a very specific purpose as laid out above. There are 133 episodes of The Clone Wars if you want to watch a Clone Wars episode with all the characters of the Clone Wars. This moment was about Ahsoka overcoming her guilt and fear caused by Anakin becoming what he became so that Ahsoka could actually embrace who she is. Specifically.

Now we have a happy, more well-rounded, Gandalf-like Ahsoka that has slayed her Balrog. Now we get to see her be the Jedi she has always been inside. Now we will see her be there for her friends. Now we will see her mentor and share her wisdom and teach the ways of the ones that came before her without fear.

[invaderlynx]

* crawls out of the clone wars fandom wood work* Hello, hi, saw your post about omega and rex and comparing the comand batch and bad batch and I wanna know about the fox and rex thoughts *skitters back in*

The Post in Question

THANK YOU! Listen, in my head Fox and Rex had a somewhat complicated relationship, even before all the shit with Ahsoka and Fives went down.

So, I headcanon that Fox, much like Rex, had a mutation that made his hair lighter than his brothers’. His was more red or russet in color, which was part of how he got his name. This placed a lot of pressure on Fox from a young age and a lingering paranoia surrounding decommissioning. He compensated for this by becoming a perfectionist and more cynical/standoffish than many of the other clones (this is something that would only get worse on Coruscant).

When Rex first joined their batch, Fox was very brusque with him, almost callous in his treatment. Rex initially kind of idolized him because he saw a lot of similarities between the two of them. Fox wanted nothing to do with him for much the same reason. He didn’t want to be reminded that he was different, that he had the Kaminoans breathing down his neck, and that one wrong move could mean the end of his short life. Fox was also scared to get attached since he was convinced that Rex would be decommissioned or otherwise taken away. He additionally didn’t appreciate the increased scrutiny Rex placed both on their squad and particularly the kid himself by tagging along with them. Of course, he never outright admitted any of this (because Fox is terrible at using his words, second only to Wolffe) so he just came off as a major asshole for the first few weeks/months of Rex being around.

Eventually Rex did worm his way into Fox’s guarded little heart and by the end, he was just as much his vod’ika as any of the others. Fox still has a tendency to push him a bit hard though, transferring a lot of his own insecurities and coping mechanisms surrounding decommissioning onto Rex. This causes some friction between the two of them, especially as things get more tense between the GAR and the Guard. Still, they both enjoyed the rare missions they got to serve together on Coruscant, although Rex did notice his brother getting more and more withdrawn as time went on.

Oh, and Fox also jokingly calls Rex “the CT” in conversation. It started as a way to put distance between them and keep himself detached when they were kids, but over time it became a term of endearment.

I also headcanon that Fox is the one Rex goes to for serious advice. Obviously he’s much closer with Cody, but Cody has a tendency to take on too much, to try and shield him or spare him. Fox is the opposite. He’s blunt and to the point with his advice, not because he doesn’t care, but precisely because he does. He doesn’t sugarcoat things because the way he sees it, the more information he gives you and the more straightforward he is with it, the better he’s preparing you. He’s evasive and uninvolved with people he doesn’t like, it’s a mark of affection if he’s actually forthright with you. Sometimes that’s exactly what Rex needs.

[knightprincess]

Forgive Me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 19

Words: 2K Warnings: None - Does mention Clone Rebellion Pronouns used: She/Her - (Y/N) and (Y/L/N) also used

"Calm yourself, Echo," called Rex as he put the freighter he shared with the Arc Trooper and Gregor on autopilot. "Wolffe won't let anything happen to her, whether they're together or not," added the great captain, swiveling the pilot's chair around to face his companions, noticing Gregor seemed preoccupied with something. 

"She's with him," confidently replied Gregor, throwing his feet on the dashboard as he leaned back and relaxed a little more, a grin appearing across his lips mere moments later. "Didn't you hear?" asked the Commando, not wording he'd recognize Snap's giggle anywhere, especially when he purposely wound up Wolffe. 

"How do you know it was (Y/N) and not some civvie Wolffe picked up?" asked Echo, almost as if he assumed Wolffe was similar to Fives and Jesse, even Gregor himself, when it comes to the charm and ladies. His question only served to amuse Gregor, who loudly laughed while Rex shook his head as if trying to rid himself of unwanted mental images. 

"Wolffe ..." started Rex with a sigh before stopping, almost as if he searched for the right words. "He doesn't trust those outside of his circle, especially civvies..." continued the great captain, recalling the times in 79's when Wolffe had been somewhat relaxed but still on guard. "After the judgment and fear he received because of his eye, he grew colder to outsiders," explained Rex, trying to word the explanation in the kindest ways possible, determined not to offend the Commander even if he wasn't there. 

"Upon my return from The Void, I was assigned as her protector alongside Gruffles; I'd recognize her laughter anywhere," answered Gregor, once again nicknaming Wolffe, similar to how he'd nicknamed others around him based on their personality and his knowledge of them. "Plus, we have Cody's account; that has to count for something," he added, returning his gaze to the ordinary colors of hyperspace, almost welcoming the distraction despite knowing it wouldn't last long. 

"You'll see her soon enough. I'm sure Snap will be just as thrilled to see you as you are for her," spoke Rex, changing the subject to the impending reunion once more, almost seeing the irony. The scenario was almost an exact repeat of before, except now it was just Rex himself and Gregor instead of Clone Force 99, General Skywalker, and Rex. Instead of returning to a military base of operations on Anaxes, Snap is within the ranks of the GAR, serving with the 501st. Now, she was touring the length of the galaxy with Wolffe, hiding from the empire and their unknown desires and motivations. 

"I'll tell her about her family," voiced Gregor, seemingly lost in the swirls of hyperspace, although it was clear he was thinking of an impending reunion too. Rex and Echo glanced at each other, both still debating if it was a good idea to tell her Devika was the only family she truly had left. Octavius and Isolde had both been killed at the end of the war, and (Y/N)'s parents and other immediate family members had been killed not long after for one reason or another. Her parents vocally protested what happened at the Military Base. The others for trying to protect both Snap and Devika. "Good idea or not, Snap deserves to know the truth. It's better it comes from someone she trusts than allowing the imps to weaponize it." 

"Where is Devika now?" asked Echo, recalling the younger woman with a love for politics. Despite everything, she stood as a fighter for Clone Rights alongside senators Chuchi, Organa, and Mon Mathma. "I don't recall seeing her around the senate building," added the Arc Trooper, concern beginning to flood his voice, even more so when Omega had mentioned some she'd met when with Riyo. 

"The Queen of Naboo extended an invitation to her, she's been helping survives of the purge get away and hide" replied Rex, recalling briefly meeting the young politician when on Naboo before, at first he thought she was (Y/N), the two being almost identical. "The queen keeps her protected until the times right for her to return to the Senate, likely as a fully-fledged senator," added the great captain, hearing Gregor chuckle, noticing something few others seemed to recognize. 

"I wonder if they did that on purpose?" questioned Gregor, purposely being vague with his line of thought. Another chuckle fled his lips mere moments later upon glancing at Echo and Rex, seeing the confusion written across their features. "Snap and Wolffe running across the galaxy is distracting the imps to the point they haven't even realized Devika is probably the bigger threat. One refuses to give the empire what they want out of sheer stubbornness, and the other is basically building a rebellion," explained the Commando, seeing the irony in the situation. Almost as if the (Y/L/N) sisters had used the divide and conquer tactic against the empire. 

"If that was planned, they're doing a good job at it," replied Echo, a proud grin coming to his lips, even more so when their plan seemed to be working. "Tech would be proud," laughed the Arc Trooper, thinking of how Tech and the rest of the Bad Batch would respond. 

"So would the rest of the boys," added Rex, knowing all their brothers would be proud of what the (Y/L/N) sisters had managed to do, even if it was unintentional. "And General Skywalker," he added, thinking of the unorthodox Jedi Knight he'd served under for the entirety of the war. Deep down, Rex liked to think the General would be pleased his creative thinking had rubbed off the civvie medic and the senator. "I think Senator Amidala would be proud too; I'm sure if she was still here, she'd be doing as Devika is now," sorrowfully added Rex, sadness glimmering in his eyes to think of all those lost at the end of the war for various reasons. 

"Speaking of planned things," started Gregor, pulling his feet from the dashboard, being careful not to catch any buttons and leavers. "How do you plan to sway old Wolffee to join your rebellion?" curiously worded the Commando, suspecting it would be no easy feat to convince the Commander to join the ranks of the growing clone rebellion. "And the rest of Clone Force 99?" he added with haste, suspecting Rex had a plan to convince the three remaining lads of the Bad Batch to join them. 

"Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker have Omega to think about; her safety is the number one priority for them," voiced Rex, acknowledging in order for the rest of the bad batch to fight, they would have to be sure Omega would be protected. "As for Wolffe, it shouldn't be much trouble; convincing Snap will be far harder," he replied, knowing the plan Cody had thought of would certainly help, but it relied on (Y/N) and put her in more danger than she was already in. It involved putting her into the heart of the empire's secret goings-on. 

"Convince Snap of what?" asked Echo, quickly deciphering he wasn't going to like the answer. Still, he pushed the growing fear and judgment of the situation aside to listen with a clear mind. Rex could only sigh, whereas Gregor clearly displayed his disagreement with Cody's plan; even if it would help them, he was still insistent it wasn't worth the risk. 

"Before Cody went looking for General Kenobi, he shared a plan with Rex. It would help with the rebellion and freeing our brothers, but it will also put (Y/N) in the heart of all the danger," worded Gregor, displeasure dripping from his normally smooth voice as he slumped back into the co-pilot chair he'd occupied as if protesting against the idea once again. 

"We know clones within the imperial ranks and prisons are disappearing. They're transferred to a secret facility somewhere and never heard from or mentioned again. Cody theorized they were doing experiments on them, he'd heard whispers of a top secret project, Death or Dark Troopers" wearily began Rex as if he was doubting his own judgement for agreeing with the idea in the first place. It was dangerous, and (Y/N) was no soldier, "Snap was supposed to be transferred to the Advanced Science Division when the war ended, but Wolffe, with help from Fox, got to her first. The Science Division is also involved in the disappearances; at first, I thought it was a coincidence, but the more time that passes, the more I believe whoever runs the division had a purpose for wanting (Y/N)," added Rex, sighing as the truth was slowly dawning on him, why the empire wanted to send Snap to such as place. 

"To use her as a weapon against us," voiced Gregor, pointing out the obvious answer as well as displaying his disagreement with practically handing Snap to the Science Division on a silver platter. "We clones are loyal to her. We're her army. Who better to use against us?" added the Commando, thinking like the enemy to come to the only logical answer there was. Snap wasn't going to join the empire willingly; the imperials knew it, so her purpose was to be a tool, leverage to force clones to do what the imperials wanted. 

"I agree with Gregor," stated Echo, not willing to put Snap in danger, especially if there was another way to get what they needed without taking such a risk. "I know (Y/N) would be willing to do this, especially if it meant furthering something she believed in, but I couldn't bear it if she were hurt or killed. I almost lost her once; I can't take that risk knowing this time she might not come back," added the Arc Trooper for once, listening to his heart rather than his head. Finally, he admitted how it felt being parted from Snap for almost a year, how it felt like he had lost her. He'd already mourned what could have been had the war ended differently, mourned the life he could have shared with her. He didn't want to go through the grief of actually losing her, as he had done with so many brothers, as he had done with Fives and Jesse, and so many others.

"Told you," victoriously spoke Gregor. "Old Wolffee isn't gonna be a walk in the park either."  

"And if Snap agrees to the plan?" asked Rex, knowing the opinions of his brothers mattered, but so did (Y/N)'s. What would they do if she agreed to do as Cody suggested? What would any of them do if she willingly joined the Advanced Science Division as a mole? "I know Wolffe would protest, but he'd also do what he could to protect her, even if that meant telling her she's an idiot," added the great Captain, recognizing the danger and Wolffe protesting. After all, protecting Snap was the only duty Wolffe likely felt he had left; there was little doubt the Commander wouldn't be so quick to let it go, especially if he were aware the civvie medic still needed him as much as he needed her. 

"I would reluctantly agree. I know better than to argue back with her," quietly replied Gregor, as if he were a cadet again being scolded on Kamino. After all, he was well aware it was pointless trying to convince Snap not to do something, especially if she'd already made her mind up about it. "I'd do everything in my power to make sure she's as safe as possible and has the support needed to complete her mission." 

"I would say try and convince her otherwise, but I know she's more stubborn than a Rancor at feeding time," commented Echo, knowing his Civvie Medic could be far more determined and stubborn than the best of soldiers. She could be more savvy than the politicians in the Senate if she had to be, and she was as fearless as the Jedi once were. But that didn't mean he wasn't afraid of losing her; they'd both survived one war, but there was no guarantee they would survive another; the Empire was far crueler than both the republic and the separatists combined, cold and ruthless when it came to dealing with their enemies. 

Series Masterlist

[flyiingsly]

The Banquet

Square : Rations

Pairing : Kix x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Alcohol, reader being a bit drunk, slight mention of death, war and injuries, fluff and kitchen shenanigans, nothing comestible was harmed during the writing of this fic

Wordcount : 3,5K

Summary : You and Kix team up to prepare a meal for the rest of the 501st, but despite being used to cook together, this time might end a little differently.

A/N : My seventh commission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! This one is packed with real life cooking struggles, and it was fun as hell to write about honestly 😄 (Don't worry, I'm not getting drunk every time I'm cooking !)

For those who are familiar with it, you’ll probably notice that the main course here is inspired by the Pasta Alla Vodka’s recipe, it’s a simple dish but one of my favorite comfort food ever ! If you don’t know it yet, go check it, it’s really worth a try ! 😋

Disclaimer : I'm still struggling to understand English grammar properly, English is not my native language and even if I have proofread my writtings several times, there is probably still typos in it. I'm very self conscious about it and I apologize for it in advance, but I'm doing my best to do better and I'm actively working at improving my writting skills !

So if you spot a typo, feel free to point it to me so I can correct it, it will be much appreciated :)

It was a tradition every time the 501st was returning from a mission, especially the long ones : cooking a real meal. After days of only eating ration bars, it was a much-needed comfort that every member of the battalion dearly waited for and appreciated, a reward for both the body and the mind, and a perfect occasion to spend some time off together. It was a clone thing at first, but you, Anakin and Ahsoka grew so close to your men that you were now part of it as well, even Obi-Wan ended up being invited a few times.

The rules were simple :  you must team up two by two, and each duo had to pick a main course and a dessert recipe. In this way, the whole meal was much more looking like a big banquet were everyone could pick up a bit of the recipes they wanted to try. Those events were true feasts that lasted a large part of the night and often ended at the 79’.

At first, the meals were prepared at the GAR kitchen when the days off appeared to be spent on Coruscant, and it was a very regular occurrence. But the battalion eventually had the chance to get a very special authorization to use some of the Senate’s kitchens for that particular purpose, thanks to Senator Amidala.

It all started at a joke between Rex and Anakin, but then it turned out that the General made it happens for real, much to the surprise of his Captain. And to be honest, there were a LOT of kitchens in that Senate Building, which allowed each team to have their private little space to cook their meals. Since then, it became a thing to keep the recipes a secret until they got served.

You absolutely loved that tradition. You loved to spend time with the clones outside of the battlefield, far away from the violence of the war, and far away from the grief of losing brothers. It nearly felt like all of you were just normal people enjoying good times with your closest friends. It almost felt like you weren’t soldiers anymore and finally able to live and enjoy the real life for some times, just like if the whole world around you wasn’t at war for a moment. You liked that feeling.

You had already paired up with a couple of troopers before, even with Anakin once. It was messy as hell and he nearly set the oven on fire (even cooking with Hardcase was more peaceful), but it was a funny experience, and you definitely had to give it a try.

But most of the time, you ended up pairing with Kix. Both of you loved to cook and were very good at it. You were also very close to each other. In fact, he was the closest from you, even if you were very familiar with every one of your men, Kix was an exception above the others. You always had special healing abilities, so those and the fact that he was the medic of the company led the two of you to work together on most missions. You helped him numerous of times healing soldiers, and he taught you a lot of medical knowledge in return.

You had to face the worst injuries, the death of brothers, and the carnage of the war upon the civilians together. You had saved people together, helped people together, seen people heal together, seen people perish together. And most of all, you had seen each other cry and have mental breakdowns multiple times.

Not being able to save a life and having to face death powerlessly were traumatic events you had both endured side by side, supporting and comforting each other unfailingly. It was hard to go through every time, but it had built a profound and solid bound between the two of you that you couldn’t have formed with anybody else. It was something special and precious.

The choice of your main recipe came from a joke at first. On the flight taking you back to Coruscant, Hardcase told everyone that he’ll gave everything right now to have “a huge bowl of pasta and a glass of spotchka”. To which Fives answered that “there must be a recipe combining both pastas and spotchka existing somewhere in the galaxy”. Little do they knew that, of course, such a recipe indeed existed : the famous Pasta Alla Spotchka. It was a dish you were really fond of that you discovered on one of your previous missions, and even if you couldn’t remember exactly from when it was originated, you had been able to find its recipe and make some a few times already.

You had smiled at the thought, but decided to keep for yourself, only letting out a brief “probably, yes”. Kix immediately noticed your grin, knowing perfectly that it meant that you were up to something. That’s how you submitted him the idea right upon exiting the ship, and he enthusiastically agreed with it. You both couldn’t wait to see Hardcase’s face when he’ll found out !

For the dessert, you decided to keep it simple. There was a chocolate cookies recipe that you were used to do and had already shared with the boys on various occasions. It had become your signature cookies recipe over time, and most of them agreed on the fact that it was the best they have ever eat “in the whole galaxy”, as they like to add to embarrass you. Plus, Kix was head over heels for these, so the choice wasn’t hard to make, even more since it was making your best friend happy.

The campaign had been a complete success this time, and fortunately, no severe injuries were reported, only minor ones. It was an additional reason to celebrate, but it also meant that Kix was free of duty at the moment you landed. It only took a moment to both of you unpack your things and take a shower before heading to one of the many Coruscanti marketplaces.

You bumped into Fives and Echo at the store, teasing them about not forgetting anything this time. You were always extremely well organized when it came to grocery shopping, on the contrary of some other pairs, who sometimes had to borrow ingredients they forgot to buy. It had become a running joke among the group at this point.

***

“We better start with the cookies …”, you tell Kix while emptying your groceries bags on the kitchen counter.

“ …. So we could prepare the pasta while they bake ?” he finishes your sentence with a sly smile.

“Exactly” you pursue, smiling back at him. He couldn’t help it, finishing your sentences. But you couldn’t blame him for that, you were often doing the same. Sometimes you felt like if your minds were connected, always understanding each other only by making eye contact, or having the same ideas at the same time. You loved that connection between you, even though you were glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts for real sometimes, especially the most intimate ones.

“Did you bring your datapad and your speakers ?” you ask cheerfully.

“Of course, what a question !”

You were both music enjoyers and were used to cook while listening to your favorite songs. Soon, a flow of lively music was filling the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but sing and dance along. Your good mood was contagious, and Kix quickly joined you in.

As you were setting up all the needed kitchen utensils, Kix stopped in front the bottle of spotchka that was standing on the counter. You had taken the bigger one from the store, for the amount needed for the recipe was huge. However, there will still be some spare beverage at the end, and he knew it. He took the bottle in his hands, examining its label.

“Don’t you think it could be a good idea to taste it before using it ? We don’t know … If there’s something wrong with it, I don’t want to give my brothers some food poisoning …” he lets out, looking at you with a playful smile.

That poor attempt at justifying the opening of the bottle earlier than planned made you laugh.

“Really ? That’s all you have found to try to cover your alcoholism ?” you ask provokingly.

“Well, at least I’ve tried …” he rolls his eyes, “Can I ?”

“Only if I get some too !” you grin.

“Hehe, I knew it !”

He reached for some liquor glasses in the cupboard above he counter, picking two and filling them with the clear liquid.

“To our successful mission and the best General in the galaxy !” he cheers, offering you one of the glasses with a bright smile.

“Don’t forget the most devoted medic in the GAR.” You add, taking it from his hand.

He rolled his eyes in response, a slight blush passing on his cheeks.

“To the 501st !” he finally declares, raising his glass.

“Yeah, to the 501st !” you chuckle, raising yours too, before you both knock down their content in one go.

***

As you said, you started with the cookies. The longest part of the dough making was the chocolate preparation. You weren’t used to pre-made chocolate chips, for they were way too tiny to your taste. Instead, you preferred to cut bigger chunks from whole chocolate bars with a knife. It was a wearing job, especially for such a big quantity, but it was probably the reason why your recipe was so popular. The fuller of chocolate they were, the better the cookies ended.

You kept that part for yourself, leaving the combining of the other ingredients for Kix, who insisted to use his hands instead of a spatula. He seemed to have a lot of fun with it, even if it made him need your help when adding elements to the mixture, to not make a mess with his dough covered hands.

When you finished cutting the chocolate and added it to the preparation, you were both starting to feel joyfully dizzy. The first batch of cookies was put to bake, and you took a moment to contemplate the huge amount of dough waiting to be turned into small pieces before starting the main recipe.

“We’re a pretty effective duo, aren’t we ?” he says with pride.

“How modest” you let out ironically. He was right, but teasing him was funnier than to rule in his favor. You look at him to see his reaction, catching another roll of his eyes before looking deadpan back at you, feigning to be annoyed by your answer.

You were, indeed, always very effective when working together, either on the battlefield, at the medbay, or at whatever else like cooking. It was sometimes making you wonder in what other kind of way you could complete each other that well.

Now that you were thinking about it, you couldn’t help but find him very attractive that way, wearing his top blacks and civilian pants. But mostly, his eyes were so kind and soft, you could stare at them for hours.

“You know, I mean it. And I think that it wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else, I’m really glad to have you around.”

His comment pulled you out of your thoughts and made your heart instantly melt. If he wanted to make you blush, he won. You were used to talk that openheartedly to each other, but this time, it felt different. You couldn’t describe it, but you could feel that something more was happening. Those words sounded like a disguised confession, but you decided to ignore your instinct and brush the thought off.

“And you know I feel the same about you, I’ll be lost without you by my side.”

You felt your cheeks blushing, realizing that what you had just say wasn’t ringing any less like a confession. The thoughts that you were trying to avoid came back to your mind, but you didn’t push them back this time. You should have, but you couldn’t … You found yourself unable to get your eyes off him as tension filled the air. You felt his gaze become more intense upon you, and you caught his hand slowly and hesitantly moving toward you from the corner of your eye. You hold your breath, head spinning with nervousness. You were frozen on spot, waiting for whatever will happen next, hopping that maybe, just maybe, that strange presentiment wasn’t just your mind fooling you …

Biiip biiip biiip

You both jumped in surprise, letting out a squeak at the unexpected and piercing noise, not understanding, at first, from where the sound was coming from. You quickly got yourself together and realized it was the oven announcing that your first batch of cookies was ready.

You both looked at the oven, then back at each other with an expression of confusion on your face, before starting to laugh nervously.

“Well, seems like it’s time for the pastas !” you throw, trying to create a diversion from your awfully flustered face by running toward the oven to open it.

You weren’t really sure of what had just happened, but you decided to definitely burry your troubling thoughts with another shot of spotchka and by focusing on your main dish.

***

You forgot about that awkward moment as soon as you immersed yourself in the preparation of the pasta sauce. You firstly set a big cooking pot of water to boil for the pastas, and split the different steps of the recipe between the two of you. You picked up the slicing of the garlic while Kix chooses to set a pan with olive oil to heat and to measure the other ingredients.

You couldn’t help but cry abundantly at how strong the garlic was. As soon as you had peeled them and even before starting to slice them, the cloves were already attacking your eyes. Kix made fun of you about it until he had to open the tomato concentrate cans. He barely knew how to use a can opener, and made a mess of the whole counter trying to prevent the can lid to drown into the concentrate while opening it.

You ended up exchanging your tasks seeing how badly you were both struggling to fulfill them, and Kix still had to put his helmet on to be able to cut that stupid garlic without crying his eyes out. It was the first time that you were making such a mess in a kitchen, but paradoxically, even if you had enjoyed every one of the previous occurrences, this one was the funnier so far.   

***

It took you more time than expected, but you still managed to get everything done properly. Most of the cookies were already baked and cooling peacefully on the counter, the pastas were cooked and waiting to be mixed with the sauce, the cheese topping had been grated and reserved in the fridge, and the said sauce was finishing to simmer, close to reach the perfect consistency.

You ended up losing count of how many glasses of spotchka you had, but all that mattered was that you had enough for the recipe. At this point, the atmosphere was relaxed, and the music was still playing, you weren’t overthinking the situation anymore and everything was going on as planned.

While you were both forming the next batch of cookies, you saw him suddenly stop moving to look at the flour covered counter like if he had just discovered the meaning of life.

“Are you ok ?” you ask. He didn’t answer anything, but slowly turned his head to look at you. You noticed that his eyes slowly lowered on your dark shirt, then moved to the counter, then back on your shirt.

You were starting to worry about him when a mischievous smile grew on his lips.

“Oh no … what are you up to again ?”

You didn’t get the chance to anticipate his move, and without a warning, he had dived his hand into the thin layer of flour that was covering the counter, then had slammed it on your shoulder.

You take a step back at the unexpected impact, your eyes widening in disbelief as they looked at the white hand mark now printed on your shirt.

“Are you serious ?” you gasp, but the only answer you got was a burst of laughter.

He obviously found it hilarious, and you started to smile too, for his laugh really was contagious. You knew that he usually wasn’t so inclined at pulling pranks, so you decided to play along.

“Well, if I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of myself, you are the one wearing black from head to toes, just saying” you warn him with a teasing smile.

“You wouldn’t dare !” he lets out, looking at you right in the eyes. You took it as a challenge, of course.

“Watch me !”

Before he could even protest, you had covered you own hand in flour and had slammed it against his chest, creating a little cloud all around the impact.

Your move was immediately taken as a declaration of war, and the beginning of a monstruous white powdered mess. A big cloud of tiny white particles formed and grew as you run after each other all around the kitchen, laughing and covering every inch of body that could possibly be reached with hand prints. The chase goes on for a couple minutes, until you managed to grab him by the arm to stop him in his tracks and slapped his chest one more time.

But he turned over so fast and with so much strength that your hand, firmly attached to his arm, followed his movement, leading your whole body to be carried away toward the nearest kitchen wall, as you were a bit tipsy and missing your usually perfect balance.

Realizing what was happening, he tried to hold you back, but stumbled upon his own feet and was carried away too by your inertia. Your back came crashing against the wall in a muffled thud. Kix’s chest nearly crashed against you, but he fortunately got the reflex to use his forearms to catch himself.

You instantly stopped laughing and went completely silent, processing what had just happen. You were just inches from each other, both panting and your heartbeats racing fast from the previous run. Kix’s arms were settled against the wall, framing your face.

You stayed motionless, looking at him with wide eyes, stunned and chocked, with no idea about what to do next. The closeness was making you nervous again, and you tried not to stare at his mouth, despite the fact that your brain was screaming you to catch the opportunity to kiss him.

But as you were fully focused on trying to refrain your thoughts, Kix decided to solve the problem by leaning toward you and gently placing his lips against yours. You tensed at the contact at first, taken aback and surprised, but you soon started to relax.

You closed your eyes, all your nervousness quicky vanishing, and you unconsciously wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until you were completely pinned down against the wall.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long …” he whispers between two kisses, unable to let go of your lips now that he had tasted them.

“And so do I …” you breath out, heat and desire burning your cheeks.

You were so lost into each other and the music was so loud that neither of you heard the repeated knocks on the door followed by its opening.

“Hey guys, are you here ? We … may have forgotten to buy something … Nothing much, but, I just needed to ask you, have you some spare …”

You suddenly broke your embrace and turned your head toward the intruder. It was Fives, and it was too late, he had already saw you.

“Oh maker !” he exclaims, his jaw dropping in shock, before a wide smile appeared on his lips.

“ I KNEW IT !!!” he shouts triumphantly. You didn’t even get the time to react that he had already escaped the kitchen, running in the corridor still yelling at the top of his lungs.

“I KNEW IT ! GUYS ! I KNEW IT !” his voice was getting farer and farer, and you both knew that soon every single members of the 501st will be informed about that.

You looked at each other, oscillating between concern and confusion.

“Oh kriff it, we’re caught anyway …” Kix whispers with another roll of his eyes. His resigned expression made you chuckle, but soon, his soft smile was back on his face again. He leaned toward you, passionately kiss you again, making you instantly forget about Fives and the tons of teasing that were about to come your way in the next hours.

[raointean]

The Nerf-Wrap Peddler

So, I was watching the Coruscant episode of The Mandalorian and had a thought. What happened to the Jedi Temple/Imperial Palace after the fall of the Empire? And then this happened...

The Berenks had sold street food in front of the Jedi Temple for as long as anyone could remember. The specific food had changed over the years, of course. Jarikk sold nerf-wraps, his father before him had sold flat-top bowls, his grandmother before him had sold speared meats. But forever and always, they had set up shop just inside the first courtyard of the Temple.

It was the perfect location; open to the public and heavily trafficked by both tourists and Jedi alike. Noon and early evening were the best business, but Jarikk's favorite time of day was three o'clock in the afternoon because that was when padawan learners finished class for the day. They would come streaming into the courtyard to spend their meager allowances and chat about their day with their friends. 

He didn't know their names, but he knew their faces and their orders. The studious Stewjoni boy wanted a hard shell with extra condiments. The blond boy with the outer rim accent wanted as much seasoning as he was legally allowed to add. The loud Kiffar wanted a hard shell and a bowl so he could mash it all together. The blue twi'lek girl wanted extra filling. And on and on.

Then, the Clone Wars began and everything changed. Tourists slowly stopped coming to the Temple and protesters took their place. It was still good business, especially when he added water bottles to the menu, but mentally, it was draining. 

But still, every day at 3 o'clock, the padawans would come outside after class. They didn't come to the outer courtyard anymore, but Jarikk was more than happy to move to the second courtyard's side-entrance for an hour or two in the afternoon if it meant he could still serve his favorite customers.

There were fewer of them now too, most away on campaigns for weeks or months at a time. But Jarikk still knew their faces and their orders. The spitfire Togruta girl wanted no vegetables or bread wrap, just a bowl of meat. The brown haired, sea-eyed boy wanted minimal seasoning and extra grease. The tiny redhead boy that trailed him everywhere wanted the exact same, but hold on the grease. The wookie (the only wookie-jedi Jarikk had ever seen) wanted a vegetable wrap with no meat. And on and on. 

And then, everything changed again, overnight. 

Jarikk saw the smoke over the Temple from several blocks away, it wasn't easy to miss. His first thought was that there must have been some kind of disastrous fire in the night, but when he arrived, there were no Jedi outside. Instead there were soldiers holding back a crowd of spectators. 

Never one to miss an opportunity, Jarikk went ahead and set up his stand outside the perimeter the clones had cleared. There was a large group of people gathered early in the morning with nothing to do but wait. Many of them had skipped breakfast and, for a while, business was good. 

Until they started dragging out the bodies, that is. 

Corpse after corpse was dragged out of the Temple and deposited on its steps in plain view of everyone, their names checked off a list. The crowd watched in shocked silence and Jarikk even recognized a few longtime protesters who seemed a little green, despite their raucous cries of "Death to the Jedi" all throughout the months before. 

Jarikk left when they started pulling out the bodies of children.

They were later told that the Jedi had staged a coup and that the soldiers and the slaughter had been necessary to stamp out the threat. Jarikk joined the first rebel cell he could find. 

Jarikk was proud to say that the Berenks had never sold food outside of the Imperial Palace. He had never even visited it, but after the war was won, he had to see what had become of it.

It looked… the same. The steps had been washed of blood long ago, the courtyard walls were still in place, and carved pillars lined the walkways as they always had. As the afternoon sun beat down on his rapidly whitening hair, he half expected young padawans to come streaming out the doors towards his food stand.

But there was no food stand. And there were no more padawans. 

A week or so later, they announced the old Imperial Palace was being turned into a museum, to honor the Jedi. Jarikk didn't know who "they" was, but they were doing something good and he wanted to help. 

He offered up his stories. He knew it wasn't much, he didn't even know their names, but there weren't many Jedi left to tell them themselves. In return, "they" offered Jarikk a spot in the first courtyard and asked him to continue selling his nerf-wraps. For authenticity's sake, they told him. 

That next Primeday, he was in the courtyard at the crack of dawn setting up his food stand and heating his flat-top, his daughter by his side. With a little luck, the Berenks would continue to sell their street food outside the Jedi Temple for many generations to come. 

[maddywillow]

Tech and Crosshair are my two favorite bois in the galaxy and I have something lighthearted to say about Crosshair's character arc.

Clone Wars

In Clone Wars he shows no affection to any of the clones. Not even his brothers, making sure to tease Wrecker whenever he can, and makes sure everyone knows how much he doesn't like Regs. He even gets into a fight with Rex about it.

TBB S1

Throughout the 1st Season of TBB Crosshair only really shows that he's a valuable member to The Batch, but has other desires because of the IChip. He then goes out of his way to try and hunt down his Squad for the empire and nearly killed Wrecker. Then has his chip removed in episode 3 and still wishes to serve the empire because he's commited to work in an orderly fashion and not as a mercenary barely scraping by. By the end of Season 1 of the Bad Batch Crosshair kills his troopers to give The Batch a chance to join his side. This shows that he means well and cares about his squad and doesn't want to see them dead, but if they don't want to follow him he is their enemy by proxy. He also feels abandoned by the Batch because they don't leave anyone behind and therefore seeks to destroy them throughout the first season. Also at the end of S1 Crosshair knew that working together would be the only way out of Tipoca City so he worked with the Batch to escape for his own benefit. He was hesitant to capture the batch after S1 because Omega is trying to show Crosshair that she cares about him and wants him to come back with the batch. Crosshair admires Omega because she saved him therefore not leaving him behind like he claims the rest of the batch did. It shows her commitment to keeping her squad safe even if they don't agree with eachother. Crosshair then saves her in exchange showing that he still cares about his squad too, especially Omega because of her affection towards him.

TBB S2

Next we see that he is very determined to commit himself to the Empire. This is where h starts to experience change within the empire that doesn't benefit him. He was left on Kamino for 32 rotations and still came back to serve the Empire. This starts to show how little the empire cares for the clones and would rather have regular people as soldiers because of the unhinged nature of clones. Throughout this season there are many trials thrown at Crosshair making him question his loyalty. He continues to lie to himself and clones by saying that they are just following orders. This makes a lot of clones around Crosshair start to question "the order", as Rampart puts it. They are mistreated and have started being replaced. Crosshair thinks that he's too important for the Empire to get rid of but soon learns that everyone can and will be replaced. Soon Crosshair starts to question his loyalty to the empire rather than where his old squad is hiding. Crosshair talkes to Howzer on Ryloth and he ends up turning away from the order. He talks to commander Cody and ends up going AWOL the next day. He talks to Mayday who is already questioning the order, because of his situation on the Outpost planet. Mayday loses several of his men because the empire was unwilling to give them more supplies and troops. Crosshair agrees that something should have been done about the situation which has started his respect for other clones besides Omega. He then gets sent on a mission on a planet with harsh weather with limited supplies and all he has is Mayday to look out for him. The two bond over their past and how the Empire has screwed over the Clones lately and this is where Crosshair really questions his loyalty to the empire. Realizing that their mission was to retrea armor for their replacements they both try to return empty-handed. Then after being tossed by an avalanche Crosshair digs through the snow to help Mayday. This is only the second time we really see him save anyone in this show. Crosshair, the guy who started off not giving a shit about anyone other than himself is now risking his life to save a Reg clone that he only met a few hours ago. It's so cute how they cuddled to stay warm but heartbreaking that Mayday ended up dying in the end. This breaks Crosshair so much that he kills his lieutenant finally cutting his ties with the Empire. He continues to show his loyalty to others by willing to undergo a tremendous amount of pain (im guessing) to not tell Dr Hemlock where his Squad or Omega is. He is now fully commited to them even if he's not with the batch at this time.

I know this was kind of a ramble but its crazy to see how much Crosshair has gained affection for people he previously hated and how much he has changed!

[dans-den]

The Mandalorian Season 3 Review

Hey what's going on everyone? Dan here and today I'll be reviewing The Mandalorian season 3 on this May the 4th be with you day!

Even though the season has ended weeks ago, I'll give spoiler warnings for those who do not have Disney Plus because these streaming services add up.

Now I love The Mandalorian, I've watched all three seasons and Star Wars content is the only reason I wanted Disney Plus in the first place. The Mandalorian is indeed Disney Plus's number 1 show and there is a reason for it. I enjoy the series greatly and in my opinion, season 2 is the best of the three. Season 3 I'd say is on par with season 1, it's rough in some areas, but overall still enjoyable story and entertaining to watch. I'll be going through what I liked and what I dislike about season 3.

One major complaint that I and several others have is that they intertwined the Mandalorian with the Book of Boba Fett show. They're doing what Marvel is known for and connecting everything in a universe but the issue here is that Book of Boba Fett happens between season 2 and 3, meaning that if you're new and trying to watch The Mandalorian then you're gonna be confused about what happened between seasons 2 and 3. A newcomer wouldn't know to go to Book of Boba Fett for context so it loses points off the bat just for doing that. Book of Boba Fett was decent imo, but everyone else doesn't find it entertaining and find it redeemable because of Mando so a newcomer would likely stay away from that show. It's not good when you have to intertwine two shows to get the full context of one or the other, it's inconvenient and just unnecessary to me unless it's meant to lead to a universe which if they plan to cool, if not, unnecessary.

Now with the Book of Boba Fett stuff aside, I do enjoy the continued story of Din Djarin and Grogu on their adventures, this time around we actually get to see them amongst the Mandalorian tribes and culture. I love the lore of Mandalorians and this is a great addition to the series and the lore. I especially like Bo Katan, I think of all her varients, this version of her is by far my favorite only matched by her Clone Wars version. Din Djarin played by Pedro Pascal is great and his character continues to get fleshed out with each season. Grogu, I can't say much because it's puppetry and effects and it's done well enough, it's adorable as well. I also like how we get the return of Moff Gideon as the Antagonist, is he finally gone? we'll see.

Now the episodes this season were a mixed bag. Don't get me wrong, most of Season 3 episodes are fun and action packed, but I'd say there were two episodes in the entire season that were just filler for the most part. Episode 3 was kinda boring to follow because it was literal filler about reformed villains because it barely served any connection to the plot. Episode 6 filler was Mando and Bo on a wild goose chase of a mystery finding defective droids for Lizzo and Jack Black (I love Jack Black but this is definitely one of his weaker roles) and the villain turned out to be Christopher Lloyd and makes it like we care but it felt so rushed and phoned in. These two episodes are definitely lackluster compared to the rest but at least the other episodes make up for these two so I won't hold it too hard against season 3.

I loved the last two episodes where the Mandalorians all band together to take back Mandalore from Moff Gideon and his Beskar Stormtroopers. It did Kill off one of the Mandalorian characters we came to know and respect but at least he went out in true Mandalorian fashion fighting till the end. Gideon got wrecked the third time around and Mandalore was taken back and Mando himself has settled on his land with Grogu as his new adopted son/apprentice where they're gonna go on many more adventures together. This makes me excited for a Season 4 and hopefully we will get a season 4. Though if we do get one, maybe if should be the last one but also the best one yet. Though this is Disney, so it is possible they will try to milk the Mandalorian until its dry but maybe I'm wrong there, who knows?

Overall, season 3 was pretty good and while I still think season 2 was better, season 3 still added to the lore and world of the Mandalorian culture. I would like a season 4 but we will see what happens in the not so distant future. Jon Favreau, you busted out another banger of a season here!

rating this season I'm giving it:

8/10

While I don't think it's the best season, I still think it's great and adds plenty to the story of Din Djarin. I would recommend this season just as much as 1 and 2 and you'll definitely need to watch the last few episodes of Book of Boba Fett to figure out what happens between seasons 2 and 3. Here's to hoping for a season 4 and make it the best and last one.

May the Fourth be with you all

See ya!

[notgonnaedit]

Healer's Care

The Clone Conspiracy

Summary: Eight months after the destruction of Tipoca City, and the Bad Batch are starting to question where they truly belong

Pairing: Bad Batch x Teen!OFC (clones being good brothers/dads)

Chapter summary: Senator Riyo Chuchi searches for answers

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, assassin, girl boss Riyo, Echo angst, (If I miss a tag LMK)

Masterlist

Tags: @hugmekenobi @nottwonerdy777

@dreamsight73 @delicioustacocollector

@covert1ntrovert @clonethirstingisreal

79's, a bar that increased in popularity among clones during the war. It was still buzzing with the soldiers of the same face, even after the war had ended.

Some sat with comrades, laughing at jokes and singing drunken songs. Others nursed their drink alone, mourning the friends that were inevitably lost in the war.

But two clones in particular sat at the bar with their backs turned to the majority of the establishment.

Slip and Cade. They had served aboard a Venator- ​​​​​​class Star Destroyer 8 months ago. More specifically, Vice Admiral Rampart's Star Destroyer above Kamino.

"The entire galaxy believes Rampart's lies," Cade said. "even the Senate. It's not right."

Slip scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it. Let it go." "How can I?" Cade asked. "Kamino was our home, and we destroyed it. All those cities, all those people, gone, because of what we did."

"We were following orders," Slip sighed. The same weight hung in his chest, but he couldn't focus on it.

"Oh, were we?" Cade challenged with a flushed face. "Then... then why is Rampart covering it up, huh?" He took a sip of his drink and wiped his mouth. "I'm sorry, Slip. I can't stay silent any longer."

Slip had the feeling his friend should quit with the drinks, but what he said caught him off guard. "Wait. What did you do?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

Cade picked at his gloves. "I sent a message to Rampart. Gave him the chance to tell the Senate the truth before I did it myself," he took a final swig of his drink and stood, leaving the bar. 

Slip watched him in shock, quickly following after his comrade. Cade walked past the bar and into the streets of Coruscant. Slip followed until they came to an area speeders were parked. "Cade! Cade, stop!" He took his friend by the shoulder and stepping in front of him. "You know what Rampart's capable of. It's too dangerous."

Cade looked at him. Under his hat, his eyes held pain. "Slip, we're not bad men, but what we did was wrong. Please, I need your help. Together we can–"

A blaster shot rang out in the night, piercing Cade's heart.

Slip ducked for cover, reaching for his blaster to shoot at the unseen attacker. His weapon was shot out of his hand, forcing him to hide. He crawled under the speeders to Cade's unmoving form where he pressed his fingers to his neck.

Dead, just as he suspected. He allowed himself a single second to mourn before grabbing his comrade's blaster and shooting in the attacker's direction.

He had to get out of there.

He glanced up at the speeder he crouched behind and got an idea. He powered it up, still firing sporadic shots at the unseen attacker as it moved towards the edge.

When it was about to hurdle into the traffic, Slip climbed on and steered it up, escaping into the flow of vehicles.

He adjusted his hat, seeing as it threatened to fly off his head. He needed to find someone, and quick.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Echo sat alone on the ship, listing to the quiet hum of the inner functions. It had taken some convincing to get everyone to go to sleep, especially Hunter, but now it was the ARC who sat alone. Hunter was known for his insomnia due to his enhanced senses and always volunteered for first watch.

Echo understood him quite well.

After Skako Minor, the ARC often found himself unable to sleep for fear the next time he would open his eyes, he would be trapped in that cold chamber again.

A chill ran down his spine at the thought.

Echo never liked being alone, especially after Skako, but there were times he needed time to articulate his thoughts. Thoughts about the Empire. 

Thoughts about doing more.

Echo didn't blame Hunter for wanting to lay low. It's not just themselves they have to worry about, but the safety of the girls. Challenging the Empire would mean putting them in danger, or exposing them to scenarios that would rattle the minds of any sound adult.

Yet he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling inside that was telling him to fight.

A sigh left his lips. He felt lost on what to do and felt a pervading loneliness growing in his chest. He missed his squad.

Echo loved the Batch, but it wasn't the same as when he was a cadet. He missed Cutup's corny jokes, or when Droidbait would grumble about his namesake, or when Hevy lead them to victory at the citadel challenge.

And Fives.

It was hard to keep his breathing steady when he thought of his twin. All the memories ran to the front of his head, bringing nothing but pain.

The way he would laugh at the stupidest thing, or how he would flirt with every waitress at 79's, sometimes trying to get Echo a date. 

But most of all, the way he would fight for what he believed in, no matter the cost. Echo had always admired Fives in that manner, and it made him want to honor him.

But how?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"So, that's it? We served our purpose and now they want us out?" Rakk asked. His face was riddled with deep scars, some covered by his beard. He glared at the woman in front of them, who stood nervously in the bar.

Slip stayed in his usual spot, watching the scene carefully. Senator Riyo Chuchi was there to speak to them about the passing of Rampart's bill that would make all clones obsolete. "That's why I'm here," she told them. "to better understand your needs." "I need to stay a trooper," the scarred clone snapped. "Can you make that happen?"

The senator fumbled. "Well, no, but once a clone has completed the required rotations–" "Yeah, the Empire declares us obsolete. We know," Rakk took a drink, glowering at nothing in particular. "Talking won't change that."

 "But it can change your futures," Senator Chuchi argued. "I can craft a pension plan–

"Pension plan?" Rakk scoffed, turning back to her. "I'd rather be out there fighting those insurgent groups that keep popping up."

Slip watched in silence, curious to what the senator was going to say next.

She looked almost... melancholy, as if she actually cared about them. "And what happens when you're too old to fight?" She asked.

As simple a question as it was, it rattled every clone.

"That's not a scenario we are trained to think about," another clone answered. "It's time you did. All of you," Senator Chuchi told them. "As difficult as it is to accept, your military service will come to an end. You get to choose what your lives will be. You've spent years fighting for us. Let me fight for you. Tell me how to help and I will make sure Admiral Rampart's bill meets your needs."

She seemed so sincere. Slip couldn't help but wonder if she could help with the assassination of Cade. No one else would care, and the Coruscant Guard was already swamped with crime.

Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance if he went to her.

•°•°•°•°•

"Thank you for trusting me," Riyo said to Rakk and a few other clones as they stood outside 79's. "I'll do what I can."

The nodded their thanks and walked off, leaving her to figure out how she was going to help them. 

"Senator," a clone's voice said from behind her.

Riyo turned to see a clone standing in the shadowed doorway, his eyes shifting warily. "Yes?"

"Are you truly intent on helping clones?" He asked. "You have no representation in the Senate," she told him. "You deserve to have someone speak on your behalf."

He sighed, pressing his back against the wall stealthily. "It won't matter. Admiral Rampart can't be trusted."

Riyo's eyes widened. She glanced over her shoulder before stepping under the awning to speak to the clone. "Why not?"

"He's lied to you. To everyone," the clone told her. "Kamino wasn't destroyed by a storm. It was an attack ordered by Rampart himself."

To say Riyo was shocked was an understatement. She was aghast. "Why would you make such an accusation?" "I was there, aboard his Venator," he said. "He had us open fire on the cities."

"If that were true, the Senate would know," Riyo argued. "Someone would have come forward." "Rampart made sure no one could. Clones who tried to speak up were either reassigned, went missing or ended up dead."

Though his hat and beard covered most is face, the clone looked pale and his eyes were bloodshot. 

Riyo furrowed her brow in concern. "You don't look well, trooper."

"The name's Slip," he said. "Check my service record if you don't believe me. CT-0409," he slunk back towards the door. "You seem like one of the good ones, Senator. Be careful."

As he disappeared back into the bar, Riyo found herself at a loss for words. She suspected Rampart was hiding something, but destroying Tipoca City was something she never would have guessed.

"Everything all right?" One of her guards asked.

She nodded. "Yes. Everything's fine," but it wasn't. This whole situation was much worse than she previously thought.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A harsh snore brought Echo from his thoughts. He rolled his amber eyes at the sound of Wrecker's sleeping noises. It wasn't uncommon for the demo man to snore, but they had all grown used to it by now.

At least, most of the time.

Footsteps sounded behind Echo. Althea emerged from the cabin and sat in the pilot's seat, rubbing her eyes.

"Is Wrecker dying?" She asked with a sleep croaked voice.

"Probably," Echo hummed. He casted a glance to the girl beside him, taking note of her tousled hair and dried drool in the corner of her mouth. She didn't know it, but she talked in her sleep. Echo tried to mind his own business, but sometimes he could hear her whisper a name.

"Echo, you alright?" The medic asked suddenly.

It dawned on the ARC trooper that she had been talking to him and he wasn't listening. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you're alright," Althea had a crease in her brow and her lips were pursed.

Echo let out a sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

Althea hummed and leaned back against the seat, resting one arm on her bended knee. 

A silence passed between the two. It felt awkward and stiff to Echo, like forced comfort. His mind drifted back to Althea's sleep talking, and how it often came with repressed emotions.

"Echo," Althea's voice broke his train of thought. "Do you still get nightmares about the Citadel?"

The ARC sighed. "All the time, Thea."

The medic hummed. "I still get them about my brother."

Echo looked at her, curious and empathic. "Tell me about him."

Althea brought her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "He was loud, and nosy, and annoying, and I would give anything to have him back."

Echo nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Althea looked at him, resting her cheek on her arms. "Do you miss your brothers?"

"All the time."

"Sometimes I feel guilty that I get to keep living but my family doesn't," Althea's voice was so soft it was barely audible.

Echo nodded. "I know, kid. But you can't be thinking like that."

Althea furrowed her brow. "It's hard not to."

"Then keep them alive with you," Echo told her. "Live for them," he looked out the window, leaning back against his seat. "Keep their memories alive in you."

Althea hummed softly. "Does the hurting ever stop?"

Echo swallowed thickly. "I don't know, but if I find out, you'll be the first to know," he offered her a small smile.

Althea reflected it before turning to look outside.

The silence was comfortable now.

•°•°•°•°•°•

Riyo walked through the Battle Memorial with her guard. She couldn't stop thinking about what Rampart had said about the loss of Tipoca City. He had been off-world–conveniently. And the way he seemed so dismissive about the loss of the population of Kaminoans, it wasn't adding up.

She truly wanted what was best for the clones, and she needed their support to do so. But so far, she was unable to locate Slip, wherever he may be.

The senator was snapped from her thoughts as her other guard came rushing up to her. "Senator Chuchi. You've received a secure communication," he said.

She furrowed her brow. "From whom?"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Riyo followed the astromech through the alley, curious to see who was awaiting her. She walked to the end, where a familiar figure stepped into the light.

Riyo's brow raised in surprise. "Senator Organa?"

"Hello, Riyo," he greeted. He looked to the little droid. "R-C , keep an eye out."

The astromech rolled away, probably to go stand with Riyo's guard.

"You caused quite a stir during yesterday's session," Bail noted.

Riyo hummed. "Curious how speaking up for what's right has become an act that causes a stir, unlike inaction, apathy, or ignorance."

Bail nodded. "Indeed. I heard you had a meeting with Admiral Rampart. Was it productive?"

"Surprisingly so," Riyo chirped. "I expected more pushback, yet he conceded to many of my requests for the clones." "Rampart is skilled at saying all the right things," Bail's voice had an edge that Riyo didn't like. "Especially when he doesn't want anyone looking deeper." "So I've been hearing," her amber eyes glinted with interest.

Bail caught on to what she was–or rather wasn't–saying. "There are other whispers if you listen closely enough. The issue of clone rights is part of a much bigger picture. These insurgencies that have arisen," he furrowed his brow. "Their numbers are growing, and the Emperor is afraid."

Riyo's eyes widened as he spoke.

"If systems begin to revolt as they did with the Republic," Bail continued. "that will threaten his new Empire."

He paused, and his expression shifted to something Riyo saw as inquiring.

"It's rather convenient, wouldn't you say?" He asked. "How a catastrophic storm destroyed the cloning facilities on Kamino, making way for the Empire's new military. Tipoca City, designed to be submersible, weathered thousands of storms over the years, yet it's suddenly wiped off the map."

Riyo lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "I spoke to a clone who claimed Rampart gave an order to attack the Kaminoan cities."

"Did he offer proof?" "He said he was assigned to the ship that opened fire," Riyo confirmed. "If we can convince him to testify..."

"Where's the clone now?" Bail questioned. "In hiding. My guards are out searching."

Bail furrowed his brow, his expression becoming solemn. "Be careful, Riyo. You may not be the only one looking for him."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Wait, wait, wait," Althea said through laughs. "You're telling me that you and Fives snuck into the officer's quarters to steal their food?!"

"Quiet down," Echo chuckled. "And, yes, we did. Fives planned the whole thing, but he didn't account for the fact that Rex was staying late that night."

Althea's grin only got wider.

"Yeah, he had us cleaning the barracks for months for that," Echo smiled at the memory.

"Rex?" Althea asked. "He always seemed so nice."

"For you," The ARC said. "But he likes you a whole lot more."

Althea hummed. "Well, maybe I should steal some of his snacks for us; let him get to know the real me," she flashed a grin, one that Echo had seen a thousand times.

She was just like Fives.

Echo hadn't seen it before, but now it was impossible to ignore. The same grin, the mischievous glint in the eyes, the penchant for trouble and the sense of justice.

They were one in the same.

Echo swallowed thickly, keeping his mask of humor up. He didn't want to dampen the kid's mood, not after she had opened up like that.

But a new realization dawned on him: he couldn't let anything happen to her, not while knowing she brought the same light to the galaxy Fives brought.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Riyo's heart pounded in her chest as she ran through the dark building. She rounded a corner, climbing a stair case as she avoided the blaster shots.

Slip was dead.

Her guards where dead.

And the killer was after her.

She ran to the catwalk, trying to find a way out in the smokey area. But as she did, a figure walked out of the shadows.

Riyo gasped and took a step back, tripping over a piece of metal. She tried to go back, but the figure came close. They raised their blasters.

She closed her eyes and prepared for the end.

Two shots fired, stun. The sound of a body dropping reached her years.

Riyo opened her eyes and looked behind her to see a man in black armor drop to the ground unconscious.

The figure in front of her lowered his hood, revealing the brown eyes and a blonde buzz cut. "You all right, Senator?"

Riyo stood, confused. "Captain Rex? Wha... what is going on?"

Rex holstered his blasters. "I was hoping you could tell me. I came to meet a clone contact of mine when I heard the blaster fire." "You were who Slip was meeting?" Riyo asked. An ache formed in her chest. "He's dead. So are my guards."

Rex let out a sigh. "What happened?" "Slip told me about what truly happened to Kamino," said Riyo. "I wanted him to testify before the Senate." "Someone was sent to make sure that would never happen," Rex looked past her to the unconscious body. 

He walked over, Riyo following. Rex knelt by his side and pressed a button on the helmet, opening the visor. He took the man's face and angled it towards them, revealing the face of a clone. "A clone?" Riyo asked. "Why would a trooper do such a thing?" "He's not a trooper," Rex told her. "Not sure what he is, but I suggest we question him somewhere more hidden. And I have just the place."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Rex was securing the restraints on the trooper while Senator Chuchi looked around the area.

"Where are we?" She asked. "Couple friends of mine own this garage," Rex told her. "They're gone for a bit."

The trooper moved slightly, opening his eyes.

"Nice of you to join us," Rex said. "You got a name?"

He looked away.

Rex hummed in thought, crouching down to look at him better. "You're not wearing any identifiable markings. Who do you work for?"

No response.

"Don't want to talk about yourself?" Rex stood, hardening his stance. "Fine. Tell me whose orders you were following, and I'll let you go."

The trooper looked back up at him, his gaze steely. "No, you won't, Captain Rex," he snarled. "You're fighting the wrong battle, brother. You're limited."

Rex narrowed his eyes. "So, what does that make you?" "A believer."

The trooper held his gaze for a single moment before biting down. An electrical shock moved through his body, and he slumped down.

Rex knelt to check his vitals, cursing internally when he felt no pulse. He looked back a Senator Chuchi and shook his head.

Her eyes were wide with fear.

They were in much deeper trouble than they thought.

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[ithebookhoarder]

Hello!! I watching Attack of the Clones and had an idea for an Obi-wan x reader where Obi-wan falls for one of Padme’s lady-in-waiting/close personal assistant? And Obi-wan is so nervous that reader might get hurt because reader is close to danger or is even picked to be a decoy?? Take this idea and make it yours, angst and fluff and whatever you want, have fun with it!!

Duty Calls (Obi-wan Kenobi x Reader)

A/N: Hi, Anon. Thanks for sending this in. I really enjoyed this prompt - who doesn’t love some angst in the morning, with a healthy dose of Kenobi as well. 💕☕️ 

Masterlist

Nothing was certain in life. It didn’t matter whether you were a monarch in a palace, a politician in the Senate, or a trader on some far out planet; the world around you could change in an instant. 

It was a truth you had found out for yourself all too clearly the past ten years. There was no way you could have foreseen the life you would have, had you been asked that fateful day, back when you graduated from school. 

To have served as a handmaid to the Queen of Naboo, survived a war no one had predicted, fallen in love with one of the Jedi who had come to free you, and to now serve as an advisor to your planet’s representative in the Senate?  It was a lot… sometimes you couldn’t believe it was all real, but it was.

Even now, you nervously smoothed down the front of your robes, as was your habit, followed by a deep breath as you tried to centre yourself in the present. After all, today was important. Today you needed to be focused - prepared for anything that was thrown your way. 

There had been recent threats made against the Senate, and those planning on attending the vote scheduled for later that morning. However, it would take more than a mere threat to deter your ex-queen. 

You’d known Padmé long enough, since infancy in fact, and knew she wasn’t one to back out of a fight. Once she’d made up her mind then that was it, come hell or high water. 

It was one of the many reasons you loved and admired her so much. It was why you had become fast friends back at school, and had relished the chance to work alongside her as an advisor - the first she had appointed, following her election as Queen and later Senator (a fact you were still silently proud of). 

However, it was hard to make everyone share your views - especially one Jedi in particular. 

Obi-wan Kenobi. 

The man was every bit as brave and stubborn as you were, which was why you often worked so well together. Yet, other times, your similarities led you two to clash, butting heads and leaving pain in your wake.  

The night before had been one of those times. Sure, it hadn’t started out that way - in fact, things had been going rather well for the first few hours, after he had arrived back on world and made his way to your apartments. 

Yet, things had turned sour rather quickly after you accidentally mentioned your plan to accompany Padmé to the Senate vote in the morning. 

It was as if you had thrown a match to a tinder box. 

You’d barely even begun to explain yourself before he was on his feet, going on about how dangerous and ill minded the whole idea was. As he put it, Senator Amidala was bound by her role to attend the vote, but not you. 

If she chose to risk her life then so be it, as she was the elected representative for your planet and knew the risks of carrying such a title. However, you were just an advisor - you didn’t need to be in the chamber for the vote, nor pointlessly risking yourself (his words, not yours). 

Needless to say, the fight that followed hadn’t been a pretty one. 

You’d both said things you didn’t mean, and some that you did - although you couldn’t be sure which hurt more. 

“So it’s alright for you to do your duty? To risk your life for the Jedi order? To pledge your life, and your heart, to them?” you’d snarled, the hypocrisy of his words pushing you over the edge. “But for me to do my duty? By my queen? My people - my planet? Maker forbid!”

“It’s not the same-”

“It’s exactly the same! And yet, I’ve never begrudged you dropping into war zones! Nor, have I ever complained about the fact that your commitment to the order means that we - that this - must be kept secret, like some sordid scandal.”

Obi had growled in frustration before throwing his hands up in surrender. Clearly there was to be no reasoning with you - or so he said, but you suspected it was more likely to do with the fact he couldn’t bring himself to rebuke the truth of your accusations. 

After all, you’d honoured his wishes these past few years, ever since you’d dared to make your feelings known to one another. You hadn’t pressured or resented him for wishing to remain with the order, or for him wishing to keep his affection secret between you two. 

In fact, you understood all too well. 

Duty was a sacred thing to both of you, and you’d both devoted your lives to serving a cause greater than yourselves… even if you now found yourself wanting something else, something new - something selfish. 

After all, many of the queen’s aids went on to marry others. Of those fortunate ones who that did, some left altogether, choosing to prioritise their family and partner. However, most would remain in service, even if some altered their role slightly, depending on their situation. 

Part of you hated yourself for the way you watched them, envy creeping in to your heart at the thought of having that… having Obi-wan living with you on Naboo, or even publicly declaring his love so that you could find new roles that would allow you to continue helping others, but together. 

Both felt like mere dreams at this point. They were a fantasy and nothing more, which as Obi-wan had made all too clear, was not something likely to change any time soon. 

You ignored the ache in your chest as you thought back to the horrible way you had left things with him the night before. Letting him storm out of your home had been a mistake… 

But as they said, wallowing in regret would do you no good now. You couldn’t go back in time and change how things had ended. All you could do was make it through the day, and ensure you did your duty by your people. 

After the vote was over you could then worry about finding Obi-wan and trying to make amends. Hopefully, you’d be able to put the whole ordeal behind you, once the threat had passed. 

That was what you told yourself as you made your way to stand beside Padmé at the back of your ship. 

You were slightly comforted by the concern on her face as she considered the day ahead. It seemed you weren’t the only nervous one. 

“I am glad you’re here with me, Y/N,” she whispered. “Are you ready for this?”

“Of course I am.” You gave her one last encouraging smile. “May the force be with you, my lady.”

“And also with you.”  

With that, you linked hands, taking comfort in one another’s company as you stared down the lowering ramp of your transport ship. 

For a moment, the world hung in limbo as you hovered just above the ground, before firmly planting the landing gear to the floor. The sudden jolt was comforting, as was the sight of the guards clustered around you both as you began to make your descent towards the landing platform. 

All around you, other ships were docking, as Senators, advisors, guards, and witnesses from every political party also made their arrival. After all, you were not the only ones who deemed this vote important enough to risk attending that day. 

However, the multitude of armed guards escorting the majority of people from their ships was a stark reminder of the danger you all faced - inside and outside of the hallowed chamber. 

No one looked to be taking any chances. 

“Remember to stay close,” warned the captain of your guard, as if sensing your thoughts. “We’ll follow the crowds towards the tunnels ahead, and into the lower levels of the Galactic Senate. From there we will escort you to your office and sort a perimeter check before you take to the floor.” 

“Thank you,” you nodded, only half listening to what he said. You were too busy letting your eyes sweep your surroundings, Obi’s warnings echoing in the back of your mind. 

“Crowds are difficult, true,” he’d explained once before, sharing some of his wisdom with you on how to spot threats. 

He took matters regarding your security seriously and had shared with you the basics regarding self defence and spotting possible threats. In part it was for your peace of mind, but more so for his, considering the fact he could not always be by your side to protect you. 

“As I said to Anakin, once upon a time, it’s different to anticipating an attack in a secluded area, but not necessarily harder. It’s all about focus. Just keep your eyes peeled, and stay alert to what is happening around you. Where are you exposed? Where is there a possibility of cover, or even escape, should you need it?”

You’d absorbed his teachings, and found yourself following them even now. As much as you trusted the armed guards around you to protect you, you were still on high alert. 

Which, as it turned out, was a good thing- it never took long for trouble to find you or Senator Amidala. 

In fact, you had barely made it off of the ship when it happened. 

A shot rang out. 

One. Then another. Then another. 

There was a scream as someone fell to the floor, followed by someone else as the gunfire began to rain down on the crowds surrounding you, picking off people at random. 

“We’re under attack!”

“Gunmen! On the roof!”

“Get down!”

The order was pointless, the panic already spreading as people began to flee in every possible direction. They didn’t need to be told twice. 

You felt a hand grab you by the arm, tugging you to the side. “What-”

“-We need to move.” 

One of Padmé’s guards was suddenly upon you, trying to get you to follow as they made as if to run back towards the ship. 

“Wait, no, Padmé-” you choked, turning your head in search of your friend. 

To your surprise, another guard had already taken her by the arm, hauling her after them, their body positioned as a shield. 

Padmé’s eyes hastily turned back to yours. 

“Go!” she ordered, the instruction clear.

The guard at your arm didn’t need to be told twice, even as you went to protest, to pull free from his grip and insist you could manage on your own. After all, he was there to protect your queen - not you. You were just a distraction. 

However, you never got the chance; you barely had time to hear the shot coming, let alone do anything as your guard suddenly dropped to the ground - a hole singed into the back of him. 

A startled scream strangled you. 

Your feet were moving before your mind could even process what was happening. 

One minute you were stood there, the next you were bolting your way towards a nearby column, hoping for shelter of some kind. 

You ducked down, hoping the marble would provide you with cover.

“Y/N.”

You froze at the sound of your name. 

Obi.

It took you a moment to realise it was Obi-wan whose voice you heard, crackling to you via the comms device attached to your wrist. 

“Y/N. Where are you?”

It was flashing aggressively as he tried to make contact.  

“Y/N? Come in, Y/N. Are you alright?” 

HIs request went unanswered as another shot suddenly hit the ground. The blast had been far too close to you for comfort, causing you to focus on diving out of the way rather than responding. 

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

He sounded frantic.

“Obi - I’m on the loading dock!”

You managed to scream out the message as you scrambled to your feet, scooping up a blaster that had fallen on the ground in the midst of the chaos. 

You didn’t waste a moment before lifting it and aiming it towards the sky, vainly firing a warning shot behind you. Others appeared to be doing the same, trying to provide the crowd with some form of cover from the mysterious gunmen firing down on them. 

“Get out of there!” Obi ordered, his terror clear. “Get to the Senate tunnel! We’re on our way!” 

It was the most obvious - and nearest - exit off of the loading docks, leading inside of the Senate building and out of the line of fire. No wonder there was a sudden stampede as everyone rushed to make it back inside and to safety. 

However, some, like you, lingered as you rushed instead to those still lying on the ground, begging for aid as they struggled to get to their feet. 

“I’ve got you,” you cried, reaching down to help lift a slab of debris off of a man’s leg. He was bleeding, clearly in pain as he tried to crawl free. Yet, the fear of being shot must have worked wonders as he somehow found the strength to crawl far enough back to free himself. 

He was then quickly hauled to his feet by another passing stranger, who nodded at you warmly. However, before you could even try to thank him for his help, he was running again, in a bid to make his way towards safety. 

“Y/N!”

You froze. 

“Y/N?”

“Obi?” you gasped, turning to scan the crowd for any sign of him-

Then you heard it. 

You heard the sudden clap of what sounded like thunder, followed by a rush of heat and air as the world erupted around you … then faded to black.

—---

A bomb. 

It was a bomb.

That was the real threat… not the sniper, which had been nothing but a decoy - a means of shepherding targets back towards safety, towards the senate… 

They’d never stood a chance. Not when they were all herded together in one neat location, just in time for a bomb to rip through the lower halls of the sacred chamber. 

Had you not stopped when you had, you would have been amongst them. Just another casualty in this callous attack. 

As it was, stood so close to the building, you weren’t entirely spared. 

You heard the crack and splatter, even as you tumbled forward, propelled by the force of the explosion all around you. You emerged a few feet away— your body taking longer than your mind to catch up.

Your feet and legs gave out, sending you crashing into a nearby wall so hard that the weakened plaster cracked against your spine. Shards of the ruined paintwork fluttered down, mixing with the ash and other debris that now fell from the sky like macabre confetti.

You couldn’t help but tremble. 

Lying there… face down… the world slowly returned to focus. 

The sight was one that made you feel nauseas — bodies and brick laying broken on the cobblestones … Some of the corpses were hardly recognisable, mere scraps of armour, splintered bone, and burned flesh all that remained.

Your stomach turned, and you felt the tears rising, only to be silenced by the crunch of boots before you.

There was a hand on your face, tilting up your chin away from the carnage as you kept on staring at the destruction surrounding you. 

Blue eyes met Yours.

Obi. 

Obi was here.

And … and you were alive … You’d survived. 

He leaned forward, his brow sweat-coated, his breathing uneven. He gently pressed a kiss to your mouth, uncaring who could be watching at that moment in time.

Then again, it was hard to see anything, let alone you two kissing as he rushed to remind you that you were still breathing - that you were both alive and in one piece. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he choked, pulling back and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Thank the maker.” 

All around you people were weeping. Keening. Screaming. 

“O… Obi?” 

Your voice cracked, a sob of pain escaping you as you tried to answer him.  

It was suddenly too much - all of it. 

You simply threw your arms around him and sobbed. And as the rest of the rescue aid began to appear, he continued to do so. He held you, stroking a hand through your hair over and over until you were strong enough to lift your head. 

To breathe. 

To allow him to scoop you up into his arms, and carry you as far away from the destruction as he could possibly get you. 

——

Obi-wan did not come to bed.

As you emerged from the bath some hours later, the water clouded with a mixture of dirt and blood, he was nowhere to be found.

You paused on the threshold of your rooms, eyes looking for clues. He wouldn’t be far - he’d said as much as he’d escorted you home, following your debrief from the medical centre he’d dragged you to the moment you’d escaped the Senate.  

It wasn’t hard to find him, sat out on your balcony, staring up at the night sky. 

You slid into his lap, looping your arms around his neck.

He stared out at the city around you, watching the faint smoke still rising in the distance. 

You did not look. 

You only traced the lines of his face, then brushed your thumb over his mouth. 

“It’s alright, Obi. I’m alright,” you whispered quietly. “What happened was no one’s fault - even Jedi can’t be expected to know everything. We prepared as best as we could, but it was always possible we’d miss something. How were you to know the snipers were a decoy?” 

His eyes shifted to yours, barely visible in the dark. “Because it was my job. The Jedi were supposed to protect you, protect everyone there, but we failed. We miscalculated and … I don’t know who I hate more: the separatists, whoever pressed that detonator, or myself.”

You brushed the hair out of his face. He gripped your hand, halting your fingers. “I thought I lost you,” he breathed. “You— you disappeared after I told you to run. You ran right towards the building and after the explosion … I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t sense you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Obi let out a bitter laugh. 

“Sorry? Why? You didn’t do this.” He shook his head. “You chose to take a risk and attend today, but you didn’t chose to kill those people - Kriff, you could have been one of those people.”

“Are you going to scold me for it?”

His brows furrowed. Then he buried his face in your shoulder. “I was wrong to say the things I did. How could I scold you for defending your beliefs? For standing up for a cause we both support? I want to throttle you, yes, for not running the moment those snipers appeared, but … Well, we saw what happened… you chose to stay, to help others, and your life was spared because of it.” 

He kissed your neck. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Obi. So much.” 

He shuddered, his lips surging towards yours, sending you tilting backwards in surprise. 

However, that had clearly been his plan all along as the moment your back made contact with the stone, he all but pounced on you, entwining your bodies so that he could make love to you under the stars all night long.

[lamamasjamas]

A Place of Worship

Reposted cus I posted the unfinished draft the first time by accident. 🌞

Summary: He adheres solely to you.

a/n: I was deeply inspired by The Deification of a Manda’lore by @pretty-girl-likes-tea. Scrumptious writing. Mwah. Check out her stuff or else 🔫🤬. Anyways thank you for making me think of the importance of religion and how it can be turned into kink. I also based this fic on the theory that the armorer is actually Rook Kast who was part of the Death watch and was in Mauls little squad during the clone wars.

Warnings: SMUT(praising kink?, breeding kink?- a smidge of both), violence towards the end of the fic, culty vibes, idolization, possessive Din, possessive Reader

Masterlist

His actions were set in stone, he no longer served for himself, but for the benefit of the clan.  He had loyalties and he wouldn’t betray them.  But with you, he felt as if he could be who he wanted to be, not just this leader that everyone had to look up to.  

In a way he was grateful for the reprieve you would give him, but there was always caution when being around you. You distracted him too much. You had it too easy, the ‘star pupil’ the ‘example to follow’.  You were born with a gift, one that nobody else had.  

It was rare for a Mandalorian to be gifted with the abilities to manipulate the force.  In a way he envied you and had pity for you.  Not only do you have something everyone admires, you were also placed on a pedestal.  He had to earn his place, especially since he was a foundling, you didn’t, and oftentimes, although you didn’t want to admit it, you couldn’t do everything.  

His people basically saw you as their god.  He saw you as a god.  You were otherworldly, you were kind, smart, strong.  In a way he envied you, and that envy led him to want to become you, akin to you, to be one with you.  

It was strange.  The way he saw you could be compared to how others see their own gods, their own makers.  But, you were spirit made human. Tangible and everything holy personified.  He could touch you, hear you, and everything in between.

It made worshiping that much easier. You weren’t treated with riches and prayers, no.  You were given lessons, responsibilities and expectations.  They saw you as royalty.  They said you were the reincarnation of the Manda’lor Tarre Vizsla.  It was only just to prepare you for the role he used to have. 

Clan Vizsla took you from your own.  He still remembers the day your clan, your original family, watched as you were ‘accepted’ into that of the Vizsla’s.  Even as a child you stood with your head held up high.  When he first met you, freshly taken in, he thought that it was a sign of egoism, of your self importance.  He was too young to notice the slight wobble of your lips and the shine in your stern eyes.  

Your old family made no fuss to keep you. They made no further attempts to associate themselves with you.  A nod was all you were given as you passed them by.  A nod usually reserved for people barely known and respected.  You didn’t want their respect. You barely recognized them as your own flesh and blood.  They did the same.  You had much greater objectives in life.  

You grew up together.  Although most of your time was spent in classes and lessons with a higher level than his, when you were younger. The older he grew the more he advanced, leading him to catch up with you.  Most of your teen years he was the only other person of age that you were around with.   

He knew you so well that he could identify you by the way you stood, he couldn’t confirm the same for you though. Ever since you both turned twelve and gained your armor, you’ve had to become more involved in the politics of your clan.  Now, you were the one ordering him around.  You were the one who originally recommended him to the rest of the leaders to be the one out gaining credits for the covert.  It was a high honor and they were pleased with your request, even if your clan brother felt slighted.  He was going to be the one originally chosen. His bitterness swelled and turned into a great dislike for him.

It was your divine intervention that allowed him to meet his son.  You gave him a blessing.  He thought it was time for him to offer you something in return.  

…

“Din Djarin, have you ever removed your helmet?”

He pants and stares. His body aches from his exertions. His thigh throbs in rhythm with his heart. 

“Have you ever removed your helmet?”, she repeats.

She already knew the answer.  He knew she did.  His silence wasn’t going to be enough.

“By Creed, you must vow.”

He shoves Paz to the floor and stands.  He hesitates to reply.  “I have.”

“Then you are a Mandalorian no more.”, she says dryly.  The finality in her tone and the lack of emotion behind her words shock him. He suddenly feels the weight of her words upon his shoulders. 

“I beg you for your forgiveness. How can I atone?”, he says pleadingly.

“Leave apostate”, the man on the floor snides cruelly. 

“According to Creed, one may only be redeemed in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore…”  

His shoulders slump heavily.  As far as he knows, Mandalore has been destroyed.  He is lost. 

“But, you can be pardoned by a true Manda’lor.”

He stands at attention.  He whispers your name wistfully.  

“Yes. Only someone who is a direct descendant to a past Manda’lor can pardon those who have broken their Creed.”  

The armorer tilts her head to Paz on the floor.  

“He has failed to gain the darksaber from you. Therefore, he cannot pardon you.  It must be won in a duel.” 

His head pounds in rhythm.  He couldn’t fight you.  He couldn’t hurt you. His hands tremble and he holds them against his belt to steady himself.  What use would it be to repent if he were to die in the process.  He shakes his head.  No.

It would be an honor to die in your hands.  It would be an honor to die a Mandalorian. He bows his head in understanding. 

“There are exceptions Din Djarin.  They are a reincarnation of our past ruler.  They already have a claim over the saber.  It is only the matter of finding them that poses a challenge to you. They have been separated from us, after revealing ourselves in Nevarro.”

His heart sinks to his stomach.  So it was his fault you were lost.  It was his fault that their leader had gone missing.

“We have found implications that they are still alive.”  She motions around the empty hangar. 

“We just don’t have the resources to find their location. This task is now upon you.” 

He nods, and she stands over him in indifference.  He feels shame course through his blood.  Sadness as he feels he’s being shunned away.  He’s been the most adamant in his Creed and even then he had failed.  He now sees you as a beacon for him.  A way to right his wrongs. 

He hopes you will forgive him for his mistakes.  He picks up the darksaber from the ground and starts to leave.  Before he could fully pass through the door, he stops as she calls his name.

“This is the Way.” Remember this Din Djarin. It is your salvation.

He doesn’t respond or look back as he leaves.  

…

Cerea was known for its agricultural practices and their underuse of technology.  As well as their distaste for outsiders.  He’s gotten stares from citizens as he walks past them.  Most ignore him pointedly, especially if he asks for directions, and he asks if they’ve seen anyone in armor similar to his. Those that respond usually point to posters advertising the ‘Outsider Citadels’. 

“You’ll find them there. Probably.” 

He just nods and walks away.  He’s pretty sure you were in fact not there.  That would draw more attention to you.  Especially if you were hiding. Which he hopes you are.  It would be the first place anyone would go to look for you.  

If you were captured you most definitely wouldn’t be there either.

He thinks he’s found a lead as he stops and footsteps behind him do the same.  He continues forward and from the looks of it the same footsteps follow him throughout the several tall buildings and stores.  He gets himself lost in a crowd and turns, spotting a young Cerean looking directly at him.  

For a moment his eyes widen, but he quickly averts his gaze.  He walks right past from where he stood, even brushing his shoulder against his, sending a scowl over his shoulder.  He couldn’t have made it more obvious.  

He followed him to the outskirts of the city until it was late in the afternoon.  He was led to a small open area amongst fields of crops and farmland.  A human emerges from the door as the Cerean knocks hurriedly.  He can hear the urgency from where he was hidden in the long stalks of the crops. 

He talks in between stutters, his hands moving along with him.  He seemed nervous, scared even.  A hand lands on his shoulder and he takes a breath.  

“The Mandalorians are here.” , he stresses.  She just nods and squeezes his shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it. Go back.” He was about to argue but he was pushed by the shoulder lightly. 

“One of them is already here. Just go, you have nothing to do with this.” He nods and looks around the area, paranoid. She urges him away with a final push and he finally leaves, albeit a little shaken. 

She retreats back inside the home and he finally emerges from the thick stalks.  He brushes some of the pollen from his shoulder and grazes the pistol on his hip against his fingertips.  The door was left open, his steps creaked against the wooden floor boards. The only light inside was a candle lit on a table, near a window.  A sharp click made him stop.  He turns slowly and is met with the barrel of a rifle and the woman who occupies the small cottage.  She wears armor, but not the signature helmet.  His stomach sinks as he sees the familiar design. 

He snarls and takes a step forward in blinding rage. His pistol was already in his hand. She glares and adjusts the rifle on her shoulder. Her finger was right on the trigger.  

“I know where to aim,” they warned. “I won’t miss.” 

“I won’t either.” 

“You’ll die. I’m sure I can manage to limp out of here.”

He shrugs.  

“I won’t let you.” 

They sigh in frustration, and slightly lower the rifle.  Their face softens.  

“You really don’t recognize my voice, Din?” 

His shoulders slump.  His mind was so caught up in the thought that you were most likely captured or even worse, killed, that he failed to realize how perfectly the armor fit on the person in front of him. The way they carried their weight on their feet, just like you did at the makeshift range in the tunnels. His eyes well with tears, your voice was colder, sharper, a stark contrast to the one you would use in the covert.  

You lower the rifle from your shoulder as he drops his pistol to the ground.  You open your mouth to speak but they get caught in your throat as he enveloped you in his arms tightly.  Your cheek smooshes against his chest plate and the edge of his helmet digs into your scalp. You groan as his hands fist against the back of your tunic, tightening the fabric around your neck. Your rifle clatters to the ground. You barely manage to reciprocate with a pat on the back before he pushes away, keeping his hands on your shoulder and keeping himself an arms length away.  

“Did you come alone?”, you ask anxiously.  He nods, still stunned by your revelation. 

His gloves trace over every part of your body as he tries to find any signs of injuries or wounds.  He stares at your face when he’s done.  You chuckle and smile as he analyses your features.  His hand lifts to your nose and traces over the bridge.  His fingers lightly trace over your brows and down to your cheek.  Your lips push against his fingertips as he lightly presses against the curve of them. 

“You act like you’ve never seen a human in your life.”  He shakes his head lightly at your comment.

“You’re not just any human. You're different.” 

He steps back but keeps his hands on your shoulder. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?”, he asks worriedly. 

You look down.  You could feel the guilt building inside of you.  You didn’t think you would have to deal with all of this so early.  You estimated at least a couple years more.  Something lights inside of you. Maybe it was a miracle that he had found you.  You chance a glance at his visor and feel a surge of confidence go through you.  Out of everyone else you trusted him the most if at all.  You grab one of his hands that was resting on your shoulder gently and cup it in yours.  

“Have you ever seen other Mandalorians? From other clans?” 

He tenses. His vacant hand lifts to your neck and directs your gaze to his visor.  His thumb rubs your neck in a soothing motion.

“Did they remove your helmet? Did they hurt you?”, he asks darkly.  You flinch from the threat behind his tone.  It made you second guess yourself. 

“No, no. Of course not. I did it.” His head tilts in question. His whole body shivers. You what?

“Willingly?”, he whispers.  You nod.  He nods back slowly as if he was thinking of what to say next. 

You step away and towards a compartment hidden in your walls.  Pulling out a box you say, “I’ve met other Mandalorians.  They told me the truth.”  

The box thuds heavily on a wooden table. You lead him by the hand and motion to the box uncovering coms, insignias imprinted on cloths and holo stills. He sighs as he sees the Nite owl's insignia mixed in between the items. You smile as you gently squeeze his hand encouragingly. 

“There's so much we didn’t know before, Din.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead he looks around the house. The place you’ve been calling home for almost half a year.

“We’ll fix this.”, he says reassuringly.  

He kneels before you and looks up into your eyes swirling with confusion.  You watch as his hand goes to his waist and unhooks a clasp.  Between a mix of anxiety and disappointment you gasp as he finally shows you the handle of the darksaber.  He holds it up to you with both hands, presenting it to you with his head bowed. 

“Will you-” 

"No.", you say sternly.  You walk away quickly, leaving him scrambling on the ground to stand up. 

His grip tightens around the handle.  He blocks the door and once again pushes it in your direction, while his other hand grips your bicep.  

"You didn’t let me finish.", he says pleadingly. 

“I said no.”

“Why?”, he growls out.  

"I don't want to rule Mandalore, that's your burden to handle."  Burden?

You try to move away but he doesn't let up.  He doesn't understand. He thought that you of all people would have been glad that he had found you. That someone of your covert was looking for you, to bring you back to your people. You shove his hand with the darksaber to his chest. 

"Ever since our covert left Nevarro, I have never felt better in my life."

"Our people died and you're glad about that?", he snarls and you don't even flinch.  

"I'm glad I'm no longer being used.  I'm glad people no longer depend on me.  I don't want that power anymore. I'm done being an idol people use to make themselves feel better." 

You shove him to the side and practically stomp to the barn on the side of the cottage. He watches as you leave, completely dumbfounded. 

…

You liked Din.  You liked him a lot actually.  You’ve often caught yourself thinking of a marriage with him.  Not for a clan benefit or because he was well respected, but because you liked him.  It was a bit underwhelming seeing him kneeling before you, presenting you your worst fear. You sigh as you lug the food for your cattle over to their pens.  They munch on the feed slowly.  

Deep inside you knew that he was struggling.  If you didn’t think you could handle being a ruler, how could he?  

You lightly scratch the top of a moof’s head and it mewls loudly in response. Once you pour the feed into its designated tray it begins to eat. Suddenly the other animals began to make a fuss against their stalls, bellowing and grunting as they shook the wooden fences.  You didn’t turn to him as he walked closer. 

“My clan used to be made up of farmers on Mandalore y’know.” , you say as you continue to fill trays with chum.  His head tilts.

“I didn’t know Clan Vizsla took part in agriculture.” 

You snort, “My real clan, I mean. I’m not really a Vizsla.

And to think I could have been living on a farm. Peacefully. Instead someone decided I should be mixed up in this mess” You gesture to him and the saber still in his hand.  He puffs his chest. 

“Your fate is much greater than being stuck collecting crops for the rest of your life.  You were born with a gift.” 

You grimace.  He approaches you gently.  

“The a’lor told me everything. They were the ones who betrayed Mandalore. They destroyed our planet.  We could regroup and get stronger, build anew so that we can thrive again.”  

You shake your head and place a hand on his shoulder.  You squeeze. 

“We weren’t thriving Din.  It was all a ploy.  She doesn’t tell you the truth-” 

“They got into your head.”, he interrupts.  Your hand falls from his shoulder and you frown. 

“No, they got into yours.  Don’t you think it’s crazy how we’re such a small group and every other mandalorian dislikes us?”

He decides now that he doesn't want to hear your arguments anymore.  As far as he knew you were just confused. Just like he was.  He doesn’t want you to choose the wrong path. 

“Look, we'll go back to the armorer and she could explain everything.”

“I don’t need her to explain anything. She’s using us, she’s using you. She’s lying.”

He shakes his head defiantly.  

“If you believe in this so much why don’t you lead?”, you say sharply.  

He’s momentarily stunned into silence.  His nerves start to build and it feels as if he had cotton in his mouth.  Would you be disappointed if you knew?  Would you look at him differently? 

“I broke the creed, I took off my helmet. I’m not a mandalorian anymore.” , he says hesitantly. You stare at him as if he had grown a second head. 

“You're not worthy enough because you took off your helmet but I am? How does that work, Din? As far as I’m concerned I also broke the creed.”

“You're different.” You don’t have to abide by those rules.  You don’t have to repent. Your whole being justifies your actions.  

“How!? Do you not see how unfair that is? Why does that not apply to me?” You sigh, exhausted from the conversation that you thought was going in circles. You look at him and you feel as if you're basically pleading on your knees. You try to make your expression as passive as possible. 

“They’re protecting themselves from something. From who they really are, Din.  If they show their face to others they would be shamed because they were the ones responsible for the death of mandalore.  They’re hiding not from the empire, not from the Jedi, but from others of our kind.” 

He crosses his arms.  You can feel his annoyance building.  His anger only a step behind that. You continue despite this. 

“They hate us. They look at us with disdain, because we were the ones that caused the destruction of our home world, we were the ones originally exiled and only returned to bring chaos and ruin to our people.” 

“That’s not true.” , he snapped at you.  

The atmosphere around you both was causing the animals to become wild.  They clamored loudly against their stalls and howled incessantly.  Every hot emotion coming from him was palpable.  It was so suffocating, you thought you might explode. 

“What’s true is that you hold on to their lies as truths because you believe that’s all you have left.  They took you when you were vulnerable. They took a malleable child and shaped him to do their every whim. You think you owe them something because they saved you and now you became their most loyal follower. You follow them like a dog-”

“Is that all I am to you? A dog that you could command?”

You shake your head vehemently.  You stare at him in anger, deep seated anger.  He could accuse you of this but not the people behind everything? 

“Is that why you chose me to leave the covert? To hunt?”, he shouts. 

“Yes! Because I knew that if you stayed in those tunnels you would have been the worst of them. I would have hated you. I would have despised you.” 

You both heave. The animals calmed and there was a somber ring amongst the room.  His anger turned to desperation.  A sick form of acceptance. He takes off his helmet.  His eyes wild and full of unshed tears.  He would almost crawl towards you if you weren’t already in front of him. 

“Is this what you want?  Is this what you want from me?  I would do anything for you to come back-”

“Kriff Din!” You pull your hair anxiously.  “I don't need you to do anything!”  You shove his chest forcefully.  

“I just want you to leave!”  You push at his chest repeatedly but he doesn’t budge. 

He catches and grips your hand tightly in his. “Please come with me.  You could explain everything to them. We can make everything right.” 

You stop. A part of you thought he looked pathetic.  A part of you felt a great amount of pity. As gently as possible you place your hand over his.  You try to smile warmly at him but your eyes lack the same kindness.  He didn’t notice, he was too focused on the way you stepped closer and hunched over him.  He preened at the way you gently caressed your hands over his gloves, drawing circles over his knuckles. 

Your smile was too sweet, it was forced, but he didn’t care because you were smiling at him.  You were looking at him.  Your attention was on him. 

“I can’t help them. They're the ones who created these delusions. You’re lost.”, you say. 

He stares deeply into your eyes and somehow in his mind he finds his way in. He finds hope.  

“Then help me.'' he replies. 

You realize that he was holding on too strongly.  He didn’t know better.  He literally didn’t know better. You curse yourself. You stand straighter.  

“Let’s go. You can stay in my home for the time being.” 

You pick up his helmet and brush off some of the grains.  You pat his shoulder to make him stand and you lead him out of the barn.  

You avoid looking at him as you adjust the bed sheets on your bed.  You catch him staring into the full length mirror on the side. You stand behind him.  

“I’m not going back.  You can if you want to, but I’m never going back.” 

Your eyes connect through the mirror and you look away quickly.  His eyes were filled with so much emotion.  You felt as if he was going to convince you somehow just by his pleading eyes. You didn’t want to be weak for this man.  You're sure you already were. 

You leave before he could respond. 

…

He was staring into the ground with his hands on his knees.  He didn’t know who to believe.  Was it just to have doubts in the people who he’s known for most of his life?  They saved him.  He feels a surge of anger.  He’s been manipulated several times throughout his life.  Just now in the isolation of your bedroom did he have a moment to think.  He currently has no mission, he has no tasks to complete.  What was his purpose?  He likes to think his decisions were for him.  For him to be a mandalorian.  But now, he thinks that may not have been all there was to his motivations.  In a way you were part of it too.  He wanted you. He needed your approval. He wanted to bring honor to you. 

Was that your fault?  That he wanted you so badly?  He didn’t think so.  Not at all. He realizes now, with the way you spoke in distaste of your clan, of the covert, that you, along with him, were being led while blindfolded.  

He imagines how things would be if you were a farmer. If you didn’t wield the force you would have been any other member of the covert.  You would have even been looked down upon because of your clan.  Would he care for you as much as he does now? Would he crave your attention as much as he thinks he needs it?  

He could barely contain himself the moment he saw you with the armorer the last time you both were in Nevarro.  His mind was telling him to take you with him on his quest.  Now that his clan had finally been made with his foundling, he was sure the armorer would have agreed to allow you to join his. He was sure you would have agreed as well, but ‘times were dire’, she said that it would put you in too much risk.  Instead, the a’lor sent him away with his foundling, to find his kind.  

He sighs.  Was that another ploy to gain more control over the both of you?  To hold the prospect of marriage over your heads in order to have you in their hold for longer? 

He groans into the palms of his hands.  All he knew was that he needed more time, preferably with you, to fully understand everything. 

He starts to detach his gauntlets before finally getting some sleep. He’s been restless ever since he heard you had gone missing. He chuckles as he places his gloves on your bedside table. To think that you could have been kidnapped by anyone, or lost for that matter. It was laughable. One of the best trained individuals in the covert suddenly disappears. He should have known since the start. His mind is clouded by the deep need to protect you.

He saw you like a treasure, a jewel that was too bright to be let out of its casing for it would simply be too great of an attraction to others. Now he knows you not only have strength and grace but you also have beauty. In a way he’s always known but now that it’s confirmed he wants to hold onto you tighter. The galaxy was cruel, especially to beautiful and downright awe-inspiring creatures such as yourself. 

While in his thoughts his hand knocks down one of the containers on the table; he assumes it’s a type of cream. It clatters to the floor. His hands retracted from the table when he noticed one of the drawers slightly ajar. He didn’t mean to look inside your private belongings. He really didn’t. But the lace peeking from underneath your piles of clothes enticed him.  Holding it between the tips of his fingers he rubs it back and forth.  It was teasing him with its softness. 

He pulled it all of the way out of the drawer and held it tenderly in his hands. Mandalorians weren’t ones to indulge in these luxuries.  He wonders if someone gave them to you. He wonders if you bought it yourself and if so, if you’ve ever worn it.  

He slumps back against your bed, the mess he made forgotten on the floor. Pushing his nose up against the fabric he begins inhaling your scent embedded on your sheets and pillows.  He imagines you wearing the thin lace for him.  

…

Stepping out of the shower you groan.  You forgot to pick up some of your clothes from your bedroom.  You pull the towel tighter around you. Knocking on the door to your room you hear him scramble around. 

It takes a while before he opens the door and you swear you heard ruffling from the other side.  He looks disheveled from where he stood.  You wonder what he was doing before you knocked, but the moment you see some of your drawers fully opened and your sheets disarranged your body starts to heat up.  

“I’m just going to get some clothes.”, you say as you enter cautiously. Your thoughts were already beginning to run a mile a minute. You could almost feel the droplets of water evaporating from your skin and a new wetness gathering between your thighs. 

He stands there pin straight as you scrounge through your drawers, occasionally pulling down your towel which was much too small to cover parts of your thigh. You momentarily ignored the fact that some of your underwear was rearranged.  You ignored the fact that the man beside you was currently sweating bullets, and you definitely ignored the hard on he was sporting as he stood facing the wall. 

Through the reflection of the mirror standing against the wall he can see the droplets fall between the valley of your breasts.  Your towel slips slowly and he almost catches sight of your nipple.  He was literally watching as the areola of your breast was slowly being revealed.  You adjust the towel as you go through another drawer.  

Beneath your sheets you can faintly see a bunched outline on a side. You push it aside, revealing one of your undergarments you usually reserved for yourself and for special occasions.  Your heart thuds loudly in your ears as you imagine him fisting himself with your panties in hand. You imagine that he could have jacked off and spread his cum on the lining and just put it back in the drawer. The fact that he probably was going to do that before you interrupted him made you hotter. 

He wants to scream.  By pulling the towel higher up your frame you expose your thighs. You stand suddenly and start to watch him intently.  Your eyes narrow. He acted as if he wasn’t just openly staring at you and faced the floor.  From the corner of his eyes he sees you walk closer.  Your hands meet his shoulders and your towel falls with a thud to the ground. You guide him to the side.  He looks up at the mirror now directly in front of him.  He can faintly see your bare shoulders, your hips and your legs, fully exposed.  The only thing covering your modesty from his eyes was his bulk standing in front of you and the mirror. 

“You wanted this didn’t you?” You lightly trace over his cheek and his breath hitches.

“You wanted me. You’ve always wanted something more.” Your hands lightly graze over his arms and fall to his waist. 

“I’ve always imagined what it would be like to give myself to you.”  

He swallows audibly. 

“Please”, he whispers.  He didn’t know what he was begging for at this point but the way you're touching him makes him feel good, incredibly good.

You step to the side and caress the locks out of his face. Sweat gathers on his brows and your eyes connect through the mirror in front of you. 

“Don’t we make a lovely pair?” 

You start to place soft kisses along his neck, pulling back the garment covering him.  His musk consumed you.  You couldn’t help but breathe him in further.  You pull back and your lips caress along the shell of his ear.  He shivers as he feels your hot breath on his skin.  

“They were planning on marrying me off to you. Of course, before you were assigned your quest. But when you were gone and news hit that imperials got involved, they wanted to find me another suitor. They thought you dead…they thought you weak.” 

His hands clenched tightly into fists and his heart skipped a beat.  You noted the hint of betrayal in his furrowed brow and darkened eyes. Good. 

“You want to know the truth Din? Hm?” 

Your hand curled around his torso and caressed up his chest possessively.  He responds with a quiet yes. You lean your head against his shoulder and press yourself up further against him.

“I didn’t want anyone else.”  you whispered hotly against him. 

“The only person I wanted to share my life with was you.  You are the only one worthy of me, Din.  The only one worthy of fucking me, taking care of me, loving me. You’re worthy of fathering my children.  Of leading our people…” 

Your hands lower down his torso and past his waist.  You palm him through his pants.  He twitches at the contact.  

“You’re so strong… so deadly.  I’m sure you would tear the others apart if they even thought of touching me.  Wouldn’t you?” 

Your hand squeezes him tightly and he gets impossibly harder against you, making a very obvious outline of his cock.  

“For me?”, you say as you nuzzle your nose under his chin. Your lips skim his stubble. His head turns slightly up to allow you more access. 

“Y-yes”, he stutters. He sounded strained and the sound he made was guttural.  

You bite down on the underside of his jaw and he lets out the most sinful moan. It made you press your thighs together and hold back one of your own.  His head slumps and he’s closed his eyes in bliss as you continue to move your hand against his bulge.  His hips thrust in time with you.

Your palm slides up his torso and moves to his side.  He whines at the loss of your warm hand gripping him through his flight suit.  

You lead him to your bed, where you motion him to sit. He followed without question. You cup his face in your hands and caress the apples of his cheeks.  You sit on his lap and wrap your legs around him. His hands immediately move to your hips.

“Do you want this?” You were sitting so close to his dick he could almost feel the heat from your crotch against his own.  

He swallows hard and nods.  You tsk and shake your head lightly.  It was as if you were cooing at him.  You were gentle as you brought your face closer and pressed your forehead to his.  

“I need words, mesh’la.” 

“I want this.” 

You smile and slowly lean your lips to his, skimming your nose against his.  Your breaths mix from how close you were. He huffs in frustration as you lightly scrape your nails against the back of his head, delicately tussing his hair and massaging his scalp. You snort and he’s had enough. His hand finds the back of your neck and brings your lips to his passionately.  Neither of you have kissed before, but he knew he was doing something right by the way he swallowed your moans as he swirled his tongue on the roof of your mouth.  

You pull back and he attempts to follow. 

“Stay still.”, you say as you caress and grope his thigh through the fabric. 

“T-tease.”, he huffs.  

You pull him out of the confines of his pants slowly. He was hot against your palm. You were shocked by how big it felt, how heavy it was. You spread his pre-cum around the length of him and pump experimentally.  He huffed shakily against your collarbone. He shook beneath you, and he gripped your hips tighter, pulling you to have your knees on either side of his waist.

Your thighs shook from how easily he positioned you. You let out a yelp as he spreads you open with his thumb and forefinger, all the while he stares at your face, noting every way you reacted to his ministrations. 

“I’ll fill you up.  Stretch you so good you’ll never want to leave me.” As he lowers you down his length, getting you used to his size, you cling onto his shoulders for support. He mouths against your throat. 

“I’ve dreamt of you fucking me. Of expanding our clan.”, you mewl breathily. 

You grind against him in a circular motion.  Your clit rubs against his pubic bone and you moan wantonly.  He watches as the pupils in your half lidded eyes expand and your eyes roll up.  He shoves you down harder and you groan. 

“I only need you, I don’t need followers, I can solely have you.  My big, strong, husband.  Willing to protect me, to love me, to be mine entirely.  You’ll follow me right? You’ll be loyal to me?”  

You stop moving momentarily and caress his face. His eyes look up into yours.  You know you’ve been egging him on, you know some things you might have said were just words to stroke his ego, but you couldn’t help it. The way he twitched as you spoke encouraged you further than you might have thought. 

Your thumb swipes against his cheeks “Won’t you, my love?” 

His hips rut harder against yours, his hands squeeze your hips in time. He went completely feral at your words as he flipped you to your back against the mattress.  The bed creaks as he lifts both of your thighs up against his waist, allowing him to pound into you deeper than before.

“Yes, Gods…” 

He gives a particularly hard thrust. It felt like he was punching the wind out of you. You feel him lower himself against your torso. His cold armor shocks your hot skin and makes goosebumps rise. 

Your arms wrap around him and you pull him to your lips in desperation. He’s pulled flush against you.  You could feel his whole weight on top of you and he can feel your warm and welcoming body underneath him. 

Your hands move to the side of his neck. Your hands were so small compared to him, you needed both of them to fully wrap around his throat, it made your cunt pulse and squelch with arousal.

His whole pelvis was covered in your slick by the time he was able to stutter out a moan. His stomach clenched and his cock twitched inside of you as you squeezed. 

…

He woke up to the sound of pots and pans and the muffled popping of boiling water. Rubbing his eyes he sits up against the bed frame. The thick aroma of meat and broth fills the air causing him to close his eyes in bliss.  

The door groans open and you pop your head inside. You chuckle at his disheveled state.  

“You should shower. There’s some towels in the bathroom.”

You stare at each other, not quite knowing how to talk further. He notices your gaze lowers down his chest and he flushes. You lick your lips quickly.  He watches as your bottom lip reddens slightly. 

“I made tiingilar stew. Come on over to the kitchen when you're ready.” 

The door clicks shut and he groans. He thinks he’s gonna need a cold shower. 

…

You ate in silence. The only noise being that of your feet swinging in your chair and his slow chews. To break the silence you slyly mentioned how you were going to travel to town and buy a few things from the local merchants and traders.  

“You're welcome to come with me.”, you add.  He stares at you wide eyed, his cheeks redden from the way you wait for his response. He stutters out a breathless yeah and looks down sheepishly. You hum in content.  

They didn’t stare as hard as they did yesterday.  They were a smidge more friendlier than before.  You explained to him how you made a deal that you would watch over them. The outsider citadels were getting more violent, many thieves and criminals, that weren’t even from the planet, were starting to spread to the native people’s land. In exchange for a place to hide, you made sure no harm would come to them. 

As you walked past a vendor he shoved you to the side. Your shoulder hits the wall and you look towards him in confusion.  His glare doesn’t waver even as Din looks as if he was going to charge at him full force. You lifted your hand, motioning to Din to stay at ease. The Cerean looked between the both of you.  

“We don’t want any more outsiders in our city.” 

You nod. “He’s my husband- “

Din feels his whole body tense, but he keeps his focus on the man who had just assaulted you.  You could have introduced him as anything else and yet you chose to call him your husband to someone who would surely go on to tell others.  You said it so smoothly, as if you didn’t put much thought into it.

“You never said you had a spouse or a family. This is not part of the agreement-”

“I thought he was dead. Please understand. We also have a son,” you look towards Din, he tilts his head at you slowly in utter confusion, “which I just found out is safe.” 

The Cerean crosses his arms and huffs. 

“We also might even add a member to the family soon. You see, we haven’t seen each other in a long time and- “ 

He hushes you harshly and tells you to stop and that he understands.  You smile as if you were oblivious to his discomfort.  

“As long as there aren't any more of them,” He gestures to Mando standing tall beside you, “we’ll allow you to continue occupying the cottage.” 

“Thank you.”  You bow your head.  

The small crowd that formed during the altercation dispersed quickly, especially as they saw the Mandalorian’s knife, which they didn’t catch unsheathing, be put away to the side of his thigh. 

You continue walking through the stalls as if nothing had happened.  He was still taken aback by your words.  The way you said them so easily, as if they held no meaning. Or was it that they held so much meaning that it came so naturally? 

The citizens watch as you walk and he follows you closely, as if he were your bodyguard.  You find a stall with an assortment of handcrafted tools for farming and you make him lean towards you to explain the various uses for them.  

They watch in amusement as he seems so engrossed in your words.  You two must have been separated for a long time, they thought to themselves.  He forcefully makes you give him some of the bags as you leave.  You complain weakly, knowing he was too stubborn to allow you to hold most of the heavy bags.  

You unlock the door to your home and sigh in relief.  You decide that you want to have him help make dinner.  You bought more than enough food and supplies for the both of you for at least a month, and as you stock them in your cupboards you ask him to cut some of the vegetables and to cook some of the meat in a pan.  

You both work in silence and as you finish, you curse yourself.  He was cutting the tomatoes wrong, the pieces were all different sizes and most of the juice was spilled all over the cutting board.  Bumping your hip against his you make him move and try to salvage what you can of the poor fruit.  

He stands with his hands on his hips, staring at your hands as they expertly slice through the flesh and make neat squares.  

“How could you call me your husband so easily?”  You stop for a second then continue to add the tomato cubes to the pan.  They sizzle as they combine with the oil.   The smell of both savory meat and the sweet tang of tomato mix together.  

“I overheard you ask for my hand.” You stir the contents of the pan and add more ingredients. You lean against the counter as you let the food sizzle.   You look at him doing a double take. 

“You know-”, your finger wags in the air and you stare into space.  “I actually ran because of you.” 

His hands fall from his waist.  

“What?” 

“When you came back from your quest, they were going to marry me off to you. I told you yesterday.”, you sigh, and place another vegetable on the board to cut. 

“I’m sorry…”, he says dejectedly.  You look up and see that his gaze was focused on the ground and his brows were furrowed.  His lips pursed and he looked as if he had been rejected.  You almost chuckle on how expressive he was without the helmet. 

“You didn’t let me finish.”, you say calmly. 

“Apparently that plan was off the table.  She thought you were going rogue. You were loyal to the baby and-” 

“Grogu.”, he interrupts.

“Grogu.”, you say softly. Your small chuckle makes him smile and you continue.  

“They thought you wouldn’t be as loyal to me- or them- or whatever loyalties you had. She said you were as good as dead if you continued your mission, so she made other options appear.” 

You avoid looking in his direction and instead focus your eyes on the board in front of you.

“I felt like the only real choice I had in the covert was getting to marry you. My whole life was dictated by her and I felt like when I was around you I could breathe.  Of course when you asked her for Riduurok I was ecstatic. But the a’lor had other ideas for me. I would have been content-“ you look up in his direction.

“I would have been happy if you were to have been my husband. I would have pushed through all of the control she had over me, over everyone.  I even started fantasizing about it, and I guess seeing you as my spouse wasn’t that hard to lie about.” 

…

He looks through the box carefully.  You explain every item he inspects.  A holo of you standing next to other Mandalorians.  Their helmets off as well as yours.  You look jovial and happy.  He smiles and continues to look through the rest.  

“They wanted to give me something to remember them by.  They’re the ones that helped me find a place here.  Apparently people owe them.”  You shrug.  

He gathers up the cloths and sheets of metal, basically anything imprinted with insignias.  

“I asked for those.  I wanted to keep track of all of the clans, Most of them offered me a safe haven and they inscribed coordinates on them. They're for emergencies.” 

He hums, looking over each and every one of them.  He stops when he sees Bo-katan’s group. 

“Oh, they were very kind.  They even offered me a space in their unit.” 

He chokes on his spit.  You look up at him and his whole face turns red.  Your brows furrow in concern.  He waves you off.  

“They call themselves the Nite owls.” 

He looks off into the distance, beside your head. “Oh, really?”  

“Yeah. I think it’s a little much, though.”, you say as you stir your caf. He snorts.

“They seem more like a squadron than a family.  I guess that’s alright for them, but it’s not really what I’m looking for.” 

He stares at you wide eyed.  You arch your brow, as if coaxing an idea out of his head.  You place your elbows on the table and lean heavily.  The chair scuffs against the ground as you shuffle closer.  

You stare into his eyes pleadingly, with a tight lipped smile and twiddling fingers.  Your face falls when he doesn’t make a sound or even move.  You sigh and your face flushes in embarrassment.  You stand and go to your room but not before saying a quiet goodnight.  

Your eyes well with tears as you sit on your bed.  Maybe he just didn’t want you anymore.  You have no value now.  You have no authority.  Maybe he was let down by your appearance? Either way, it seemed as if he had no intention of performing Riduurok with you.  Did he see you as unworthy? Was he going to leave now that he knew you weren’t going back?

You hear three clear knocks on the door. You quickly wipe your eyes and try to calm your breathing. Getting into the bathroom quickly you turn on the faucet.  You splash some water on your face and make sure there are still droplets running down the sides of your cheeks and forehead.  You grab a towel and as you open the door, you act as if you were drying yourself.

“Yes?”, you ask as if you were in a rush. 

“I’m sorry.”, he says softly.  He places his hand on your shoulder heavily. You stare into his pauldron and your grip on the door tightens.  How much you wish you had your helmet on at this moment. You’ve learned how to keep your voice passive throughout the years, the one thing you couldn’t master was keeping your face placid.  You try to smile at him, to will the tears gathering in your eyes and blurring your vision to calm.  

“What for?”, you ask dumbly. 

His thumb smooths over your neck.  He rubs them back and forth. 

“For disappointing you.” 

You stand back quickly and head to your bed, messily arranging the sheets to occupy your shaking hands. 

“I don't know what you're talking about Din. Honestly. You haven't done anything wrong-” “You get me nervous. I want to do it in the best way possible.” 

You pause and he stands behind you.  He leads you to the mirror on the side by your waist.  You avoid looking at yourself as he positions you in the middle of the frames.  Instead you focus your attention on him as he inspects you from the reflection.  

“Mhi solus tome.” 

A chill runs down your spine.  

“Wait, Din.” 

He holds your right hand in his and pulls your knuckles up to his forehead. 

“Mhi solus tome.”, he says steadily. 

You turn your head, “Are you sure?”  He nods and squeezes your hand.  “This should have happened a long time ago.” 

“Mhi solus tome.”, you finally repeat. 

He grabs your other hand tightly.  “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

“Mhi solus dar’tome.” 

“Mhi me’dinui an.” 

“Mhi me’dinui an.”  

He wraps his arms around your waist, making them cross over your stomach.  

“Mhi ba’juri verde.” 

Your smile widens and you lean your back against his chest.  

“Mhi ba’juri verde.” 

You yelp as he picks you up and spins you around the room.  He puts you on your feet slowly and embraces you tightly.  You cup his face and blink away tears.  

“We’re equals. Just like we’ve always been.” 

He surges towards you and you groan against his ferocity. His hands fists your tunic tightly as your legs bump against the edge of your bed.  You both fall and bounce on top of the bed, when he ‘trips’ on his feet. 

…

Some weeks have passed. There was a steady rhythm to everyday life. Now you were just packing things to go and visit the child, or Grogu you’ve recently learned.  Din said it would be beneficial for you to meet with a jedi. You think you might find some clarity.  Of course the main reason you were going was to see the baby.  You didn’t really care to use the force in any capacity.  

You pet the infant moof’s head gently. About two weeks ago the calf was born.  Din helped deliver her and in a way she grew an attachment to him.  It was cute to see him working the land and a baby following him around.  Tranquility looked good on him, you thought.  

He patted her head tenderly from the fence of her pen and she grunted.  She didn’t recognize him with his full armor but she recognized his gentle touch. His helmet gleamed in the sunlight and so did yours.  As you close off the pen and bid goodbye to your furry cattle he hands you your helmet. 

You both walk into the city covered head to toe in armor.  You thought it would be a good idea to bring your most valuable items with you, especially since you were leaving for an unknown period of time.  You make a turn to one of the apartments and you tell Din to get his ship ready.  

You were giving instructions to one of the young men who frequently visited you to make sure you weren’t dead in your cottage on how to care for your animals and he nodded diligently.  As you were being led out of his home you started to hear screaming and shouting from a distance.  People crowded over to you and started pushing you towards the commotion.  

You start to run as you hear explosions resound throughout the plaza.  Ships zoomed past overhead, shooting at guards and buildings.  From a distance you see that they were wearing Mandalorian armor.  Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.  There, in the middle of the plaza you see as Paz has Din kneeled in front of him. Several other Mandalorians form a circle around them.  You stand behind a pillar and watch as the darksaber was powered on.  Din’s visor meets yours and he shakes his head lightly.  

“I don’t know where they are!”, he yells.  Your breath hitches.  He was trying to protect you. 

The saber inches closer to his neck.

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been here for weeks dar’manda.” 

Din flinches and his whole body shakes in anger.  

A soldier steps up into the middle of the plaza and tosses a holo his way.  The holo activates and shows you, without your helmet and smiling along with the mandos you’ve met while on the run.  It feels as if the whole army stops and gapes.  The ones on the ground whisper among themselves.  How could she do this? How could the chosen one do this?

Paz quickly tosses it beside his feet and crunches it between his boot and the ground, trying to cover up the evidence of your fallacies.  He was ready to strike, his arm lifted far above his head.  

“You will die without honor, Dar'manda.” 

He stops.  He couldn’t move.  It felt as if the bones of his hands were beings crushed under a boulder.  He couldn't stop himself from angling the blade to his wrist and he couldn’t stop himself from cutting through his skin and bone.  

His screams resounded throughout the area.  It echoed off of the walls and amplified around those surrounding him. Din watches half in confusion and half in horror. You broke through the crowd and stood over him, who was now crouching and holding his arm close to his chest.

“That’s enough!”, you command over the crowd. You crouch down in front of Paz and collect the darksaber that had fallen to the ground.  They all kneel before you.  The saber buzzes in your palm as it blazes awake. You stare as Paz’s knees scrape against the ground and his head gets closer to the blade held tightly in your hands. He pleads for you to stop. A hand falls on your shoulder, you let go and stare at the whimpering man in front of you, trying to tend to his wounds.  

“Don’t do this.”  

The handle clatters to the floor and shuts off.  You were breathing heavily, all eyes were on you.  You didn’t even notice as she walked up to you, past the kneeling soldiers and past Paz.  She picked up the saber from the ground and gripped your hand in hers tightly.  Enough to make you wince.  She pushes it into your hands and before you could even think to protest she raises your arm.  

“Our Manda'lor is found!”

Your mind goes blank.  You look to your side and see Din staring at you.  You hated that you couldn’t see what he was thinking.  You hated that looking around you felt as if you were staring back at yourself.   

She puts her hand on your shoulder and you swear you feel her nails press harshly against your skin. 

“We’re stronger together. With our own kind.”

[cienie-isengardu]

Hi! Sorry if this has been asked before, but I was just wondering if you could recommend any specific Legends comics/stories that show Anakin's/Vader's relationship with his men? I know the 501st were loyal to Anakin and Vader later on, but I haven't really read any stories that show it, and I want to start delving into more Legends content. Thanks so much!

Hi there! I will do my best so here some recommendations:

Anakin

To be honest, we have only glimpses about Anakin’s life and though the period of prequels were full of clone wars stories, the Legends sources in general did not focus much on Skywalker’s relationship with men serving under him or working together on missions (as most was about Anakin and Obi-Wan, the unseparated team). Still, it seems to me like every major book, even with such limited focus, had Anakin come to rescue clone troopers or worry about them or in general be respected as a great warrior.

The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss (2008) and Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth by Karen Miller (2010) although tied to The Clone Wars TV animated series as far as I know are counted as Legends and like the show, explore Anakin’s relationship with clones and his padawan. Obviously, clones aren’t the main heroes, but there is a lot good examples how Skywalker and clones worked together (I especially like the battle and post-battle few chapters in the Gambit, a lot to analyze just by how Anakin addresses his men in contrast to some other characters, about what I talked more here).

From the unquestionable Legends sources I would recommend:

Jedi Trial a book written by David Sherman and Dan Cragg (2004) is the closest to showing us Anakin in a military setting (as in, not only leading troops during battle but also learning how to be a proper officer). Like I said, the prequel era did not focus much on Anakin’s relationship with people who weren’t Obi-Wan, Padme or even Palpatine so we don’t get closure similar to what was seen in The Clone Wars novels between him and Rex for example and sadly, most clones aren’t even named by narrative. But here is Grudo, an alien sergeant who was guiding Skywalker how to serve in the army and clone troopers got some interesting spotlight too. 

Labyrinth of Evil a novel written by James Luceno (2005) is another good book to recommend but sadly, only like first 10 chapters is focused on military mission in which Obi-Wan, Anakin and clones take part together because rest of story is greatly about Kenobi-Skywalker solo job. Still a pretty nice source and hey, Cody debuted here, that counts for something, right?

(And again, there is not much Anakin’s extensively inner thoughts about clones like in TCW books but I guess this is how the novels were written in 2002-2006)

Honorable mention: 

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover (2005). Beside the opening Battle of Coruscant, Anakin was pretty isolated from clones (his men) as he was trapped in conflict between Jedi Council and Chancellor Palpatine, but the book brought on two separate occasions an interesting mention of Anakin made by Cody (about which I talker more here and here if you don’t feel like reading the whole novel). Beside that, the book in general is one of the best Star Wars books in my opinion.

From comics definitely worth reading is Star Wars Republic comic series, the issues about Anakin, Kenobi and ARC Alpha-17. Since the plot was heavily focused on Obi-Wan and Alpha’s time in enemy’s captivity, it usually overshadows Anakin and Alpha friendship, but Skywalker for sure had his part in character development of Alpha.

ARC trooper Alpha was introduced in Star Wars: Republic issues: 50-52, 55, 60, 62, published in 2003-2004) and later showed up in Obsession #3-5 (2004-2005).

VADER

Vader’s relationship with other characters in general are more tricky because 

A) he is the Sith Lord perfectly aware that sentiment gets you killed and not many people will not  betray him (thus not all stories have a happy end for his men) and 

B) the focus (like with stories about Anakin) is on the great action, plot, solo missions to find Luke or destroy the Rebellion or survive whatever Palpatine/political rivals / enemies / other imperials are planning and so on. Because of that, Vader's men usually play second roles and have limited appearances in books and comics and like I said in the previous point, often does not survive to the end of the storyline.

Forgive me for this little warning, I just don’t want to raise anyone’s hopes too much. In general, we could separate Vader’s men into smaller groups: 501st Legion & stormtroopers as a whole, his agents/spies (sometimes dragged into service because of circuments) and people who aren’t working directly for Vader (as you know, his trooper or agent) but were recruited by Dark Lord due to their skills that Empire could use and benefit from. 

 The stories with a main focus on Vader and his men are few and between in the scale of 40+ years of star wars but here we comes:

Vader Adrift - a short story written by Ryder Windham (published in the Star Wars Insider Special Edition 2012). One of my favorites to be honest. I don’t want to spoil much, so I will just say Vader met a clone veteran, Contrail.

Star Wars: Darth Vader and the Cry of Shadows a five-issue miniseries written by Tom Siedell and published by Dark Horse Comics in 2013. Told from veteran clone trooper’s POV the comics explore his relationship with Darth Vader and what it means to work for Lord of the Sith / Empire. At times pretty brutal and dark, but then again, the action takes place in dark times.

Darth Vader and the Lost Command - another five-issue miniseries published by Dark Horse Comics, written by Haden Blackman in 2011. The story overall is focused on Vader’s love, guilt & grief about Padme but there is commander Voca (clone trooper).

Shadow Stalker - the older comics from 1997, written by Ryder Windham that focuses on Vader’s agent, Wrenga Jixton doing a mission for his boss. Wrenga himself was introduced in the Shadows of the Empire comics version, but this one can be read without knowledge from other sources. Lemme say, I really like Wrenga and his deal with Vader and habit of testing Lord of the Sith’s patience for no other reason that he could. Definitely worth reading.

In His Image and the sequel, A Two-Edged Sword, written by Karen Traviss and published in Vader: The Ultimate Guide (2005) and Star Wars Insiders #85 respectively features an imperial officer Erv Lekauf, Vader’s personal aide. The main subplot is of course Vader and Palpatine (Sith)’s relationship but Lekauf got his spotlight too. 

Resurrection - another older comic story that appeared in Star Wars Tales 9 and was written by Ron Marz [Dark Horse Comics, 2001]. Vader and his stormtroopers get a few interesting pages. 

Dark Times - a comics series run of overall 32 issues published in 2006 that continued in a way Star Wars Republic. The main focus is on Jedi survivor of Purge but here and there was also focus on Vader in the first months/years of the Empire and shows a bit of his relationship with clone Commander Vill, and later more of it with Lieutenant Gregg and Bounty Hunter (forced into cooperation) Falco Sang. Gregg and Sang were even considered by some imperials “Vader’s pets” and I will not lie, Falco was my favorite, especially in regard to his relationship with Vader. I feel bad for commander Vill though. Also, this is a story set in Dark Times and some issues had its brutality / dark themes.

(I’m linking to their wookieepedia pages, for eventual easier search for the right issues and arc they were part of. )

Here a list of some sources that aren’t per se about Vader’s men (as in: stormtroopers or his agents) but an “imperials” who were working with the Dark Lord due to orders / circuments. 

Purge – The Tyrant's Fist issue 1 and 2 written by Alexander Freed and published by Dark Horse Comics in 2012. The story shows us Oniye Namada, a (female) major ISB tasked to work with Vader to eliminate Jedi. Personally I do not agree with some elements in regard to Vader and his treatment of (clone) troopers but it is worth checking out if you have a chance. 

Star Wars (2013) #13 and #14 by Brian Wood showed Ensign Nanda's POV, a female imperial who served under Vader on his personal quest. Maybe not really one of Vader’s men but for sure an interesting source. Also pretty brutal.

This run also has Birra Seah who for a time being was one of Vader’s men but sadly, I read the comics a long time ago, so my memory about her role beside few scenes is blurry (just in case, linking to wookiepedia page for more informations about issues in which she showed up).

Walking the Path That's Given - a comics published in Star Wars Tales 21 and written by Jeremy Barlow and Shane McCarthy, features ex-CIS starfighter ace Nas Ghent recruitmed by Darth Vader to create the an elite Imperial squadron. Not much focused on Vader (like 2-3 pages if I remember right) but Nas was one of the people under Vader’s personal protection. I absolutely like this issue. 

Empire 14: The Savage Heart published by Dark Horse Comics in 2003 as a one-shot about Vader and his pack of animal predators. Seriously, I love this story but since it is not strictly about  Vader’s men it gets only an honorable mention of.

If you will want something from the classic (definitely an older, pre-Prequel era) of Star Wars comics lemme know but  think the list above should be enough for a start 😋 I always admired Dark Horse’s star wars so hopefully you will find something for yourself and have a great time exploiting Legends!

[im-the-chesire-cat]

Shatterpoint Lineage headcanons

(wherein Order 66 doesn’t happen of course)

- Mace Windu has definitely been arrested at some point. He isn’t proud of it, especially not now that he’s head of the Order, but he isn’t exactly hiding it, either.

- Depa has no idea.

- Caleb only finds out when he has to call his grandmaster to come bail him out, and Mace casually remarks “oh, I can’t be mad. You’re just like I was at that age” or something like that

- the three of them are all very strong in the Unifying Force

- they get visions all the time, and migraines are pretty common side effects. Their medicine cabinets are always stocked with pain killers and ice packs.

- some reporter or politician mistakes Caleb for Maces grandson, and instead of correcting them, Mace continues the conversation/interview like normal.

- Caleb is flustered but secretly pleased. Depa thinks it’s hilarious, and calls Mace “grandpa” when she wants to be annoying

- (she wants to be annoying a lot)

- speaking of, Depa teaches Caleb how to perfect the art of being glib. At first it’s hard, because Caleb is so sincere and honest, but he learns quickly, and then Mace is genuinely worried because now there’s two of them.

- Depa and Obi-wan like to get together and chat outside of council meetings, and they don’t gossip, as that would be un-masterly, but they... talk. About a lot of things. Perhaps about who is gossiping, and what they were saying 👀

- Caleb actually does really well in his classes, and he’s very good at being objective because he never loses the ability to question everything

- when Caleb becomes a knight, Mace starts teaching him Vapaad, and then when he retires from the council and active duty, he gives Caleb his purple kyber crystal. Caleb builds a new lightsaber, and uses his blue crystal and his grandmasters purple crystal to make a lightsaber that’s kind of a dark lavender.

- Mace’s retirement is a big deal, since he was Master of the Order for so long and during the Clone Wars, and it’s talked about in every news station and tabloid.

- there’s actually just a small ceremony, with the entire council physically present, where he formally hands over the title to someone else, and he’s thanked for his service, to the Order and to the force, and the whole council bows to him out of respect and gratitude.

- it still makes him tear up a little. Just a little.

- when Ezra comes into the picture, Mace and Depa love him

- not only does he remind them of when Caleb was that age, but he’s clever and sarcastic and Depa knows they’re going to get along great

- even though he isn’t the master of the order anymore, Mace Windu is still scary as hell, and Ezra calls him “Master Windu” for at least three years despite Mace insisting he can call him Master Mace like Caleb does

- if Caleb goes on a mission where Ezra can’t come, he stays with Depa, and they stay up late watching holovids and eating Space popcorn and she tells him stories from Calebs apprenticeship

- I’m obsessed with the idea that “kanan” is actually a word in Dai Bendu, the ancient language the Jedi Order was founded with. So Kanan Jarrus is still a name Caleb uses when he goes undercover.

- he’s a surprisingly good actor, so there are a lot of people that only know him as Kanan, the gunslinging traveler that tends to disappear sometimes

- because Order 66 never happened, Caleb is still friends with a ton of clones, and Ezra thinks they’re so cool

- they all take one look at Ezra and think ‘little brother!!!!!”

- most of them still thought of Caleb as a kid, so seeing him training an even SMALLER brother takes some adjustment

- Ezra loves to listen to their stories from the Clone Wars, especially ones involving Caleb and Depa. And if he doesn’t know that they’re a little embellished, it won’t hurt him.

- Depa and Mace were two of the most outspoken supporters of clone rights after the war, so even if they never met or served with them, all the clones respect the hell out of them.

- all four of them get together at least once a week, if their schedules allow it, and have dinner. It’s so peaceful and it helps take their minds off everything else, and they all look forward to it more than they’ll ever admit.

[the-strength-of-the-wolffe]

Wolffe’s Story

Intro   Part 1

Part 2: The Massacre

Although facing an unwanted future in the navy, Wolffe refuses to stew in his disappointment. He tackles his new training regimen with characteristic determination. The expectations he fell short of as a boy aren’t demanded of him in this impersonal environment where everyone mans their own console and performs separate functions, so he easily keeps pace with his fellow cadets, and he even earns commendations from the higher-ups. However, he knows in the pit of his stomach that he hasn’t won his battle. As a command figure, he feels more disconnected and ineffectual than ever.

A bolt from the blue drives these troubles from his mind: the war he and his brothers have been preparing for their entire lives has finally erupted.

Acknowledging Wolffe’s track record, the Kaminoans recommend him for an elite naval position, and thus he’s assigned to command the Republic cruiser Triumphant, on which the 104th Battalion is stationed. Orientation is rushed as the battalion’s first mission arrives with the leadership. What a formidable pair: Commander Vond, his armor splashed in red, unsmiling despite the promise of action, and General Plo Koon, a warrior of the legendary Jedi Order, tall and fearsomely masked. Every soul on the bridge is electrified by their presence.

Vond is one of almost sixty clones I invented to bring Wolffe’s story to life. Some are just names, like this poor guy, but I’ve given at least basic characterization to most of them (I’m nowhere near as good at this as the rest of the fandom, though, especially when it comes to designs!).

The first few assignments are planetary deployments, so Wolffe and his crew shuttle the 104th wherever it’s needed in the galaxy. During one of the longer flights, a trooper approaches Wolffe with a surprising request: it’s becoming a trend to customize one’s armor with art, and he and his squad want to use Wolffe’s name as inspiration. Chuffed, Wolffe consents, and soon a handful of the rank and file sport wolf symbols on their helmets. If only the boys could see this.

News of savagely destroyed Republic cruisers reaches the Triumphant, putting the crewmen on edge. It’s almost a relief when they’re ordered to investigate. The mission profile is familiar to Wolffe, having run many simulations like it, but it’s his first time serving directly under General Plo—he’s unsure how it will go. Thankfully, despite his intimidating visage, the Jedi turns out to be courteous and mellow, giving Wolffe room to breathe. The navy boys are eager to prove themselves, and in short order they home in on the Malevolence.

Their mission fails in the worst possible way.

Adrenaline and professionalism hold Wolffe together through the thick of the crisis. It isn’t until he finds himself alone in the escape pod, breathing slowly to conserve oxygen, that the awful truth grips his heart. The Triumphant is gone. His brave crewmen, all the crewmen, every naval officer and pilot, Commander Vond and the entire 104th, are lost. One of the first things a clone is desensitized to is death; otherwise, hardly any of them could cope with the constant danger or regular casualties. But surely no clone has taken a hit like this.

Just as upsetting is the fact that he couldn’t do anything to assist, not even when the four of them were fighting for their lives. He was so useless confined to the pod—just as useless as he’s felt over the past few weeks cooped up on his bridge. Did he contribute anything to the Republic’s cause? Did his life matter at all?

He hopes Fox fares better.

Fending off despair, he searches for a distraction. The comm system is dead, and the two surviving troopers are out of sight, but General Plo is still crouching on the lip of the viewport, the picture of calm even now. He was good to them, and admirably bold. Wolffe can’t be sure, but he gets the impression that the Jedi is glancing down at him now and then, and it heartens him, if only a fraction. He tries to sit up straighter, look composed. If it’s all he can do, he’ll keep at it until the pod becomes an airless, icy tomb. Which doesn’t feel far off…

The rescue he doubted would ever come materializes in a glorious blaze of light. Seeing General Skywalker and Ahsoka in the flesh, brimming with satisfaction and concern, lifts the weight from Wolffe’s soul. They risked a lot against some very poor odds because they believed the survivors were worth it—he won’t forget that.

The survivors are whisked to the safety of Skywalker’s cruiser. General Plo intends to stay aboard, but he promises to rendezvous with them later at the medical frigate. This plan, and his sudden absence, leaves Wolffe feeling dispirited. He doesn’t want to be split up, carted away from the action, and judging by their disgruntled expressions the two troopers concur. When they’re told to prepare for departure, Wolffe pulls rank and has the three of them escorted to the cruiser’s sick bay instead.

Army and navy don’t readily mix, but Wolffe’s little flex scores him some points: the troopers become more friendly and talkative. They’re batchmates, he realizes. He can’t help but like Boost—not only did he create the wolf design, but throughout the ordeal he never abandoned his positive attitude, and during the Twilight’s rough flight he kept Wolffe from injury by holding onto him. Sinker is less amiable. Stress seems to affect him worse than most, and he’s cheekier than a sergeant has the right to be (in Wolffe’s opinion).

The troopers take out their restlessness on the medical droid, but Wolffe can’t fight his exhaustion anymore. His sleep is heavy and dreamless at first, then filled with increasingly disturbing scenes: tiny vessels adrift on the sea; a blood-red wave that swallows everything in a fury; armored bodies, uniformed bodies, strewn across platforms—are any of them still alive?—he’s running, slipping, straining to reach them…

Wolffe wakes up dazed and ill. The room is dark, but he can hear Sinker and Boost in whispered conversation. The troopers’ guards are down. They’re struggling to come to grips with the loss of their squad and battalion. Part of being desensitized to death is moving on quickly. To dwell on it too long, to express grief freely instead of locking it down, is almost taboo in their culture. Adhering to this, Sinker is trying to be tough, dismissive. But he can’t keep it up; Boost is voicing the horror and uncertainty inside all of them.

Wolffe’s instincts are in turmoil. Part of him has already detached itself from the tragedy and accepted his fate—wherever he ends up, whatever happens to him, it can’t get darker than today. But part of him, the part that resonates with Boost’s words, is seized by a desire to fight. Not just the enemy. To fight for these troopers, who suffered the same trauma he did, who are afraid of being separated, who will be thrust back to the front lines in some unfamiliar battalion as demoralized as two clones could be. But he can’t do it. Commander or not, he doesn’t have influence over army affairs. He’s powerless to help them.

Through his agitated thoughts, a memory slices like a dazzling blue blade: General Plo floating in front of the viewport, shielding the escape pod’s most vulnerable spot with his body, striking away the weapons that would’ve brought certain death to its only occupant. He fought to keep Wolffe alive. It isn’t a stretch to believe he’d fight again, especially for the remnants of his own battalion. Wolffe doesn’t have a strategy, and leaping halfcocked into anything isn’t his style, but for once he doesn’t care. Entreating with the General is the least he can do.

The troopers are startled and defensive when Wolffe interrupts them, but they hear him out. Their skepticism only bolsters his resolve, and the moment he’s cleared from sick bay he seeks out General Plo.