#legacygirlingreen’s ocs

[leenathegreengirl]

Happy Life Day

Thank you to everyone for taking this journey with this! It’s been a bright and beautiful Life Day, and we hope it’s been the same for all of you! We love you all! 💚💕

Please enjoy this beautiful compilation of the stories brought to you by my lovely friend Mae (@legacygirlingreen)

We hope you enjoy!! 💚💕

You can read the full collection of Life Day Stories HERE

(Special thank you again to @legacygirlingreen for everything: all the beautiful stories, compositions/layouts, hand picking the perfect songs for each couple, and so much more! I couldn’t have done any of this without her. She is my friend, my creative partner, and just an all around awesome person! Please go check out her blog for more awesome stories!)

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[legacygirlingreen]

"Now we are even" || The Introduction || Commander Wolffe x OFC! Perdita

Author's Note: I am so excited to drop the first installment of a story involving Commander Wolffe. This is my first time writing for him, and I won't lie, I cannot express how much I've enjoyed getting in his head. I want to thank my lovely and dear friend @leenathegreengirl for helping breathe life into not just Perdita through her art, but also this story at large. This was truly a whim in every fashion of the word, but as Bob Ross once said, there are no such things as mistakes, only happy little accidents. I am really proud of what bit's I've come up with this pair so far. I apologize for future works involving them, because while this is an introduction set after TBB, I plan to go back in time a bit (wouldn't be part of the Filoniverse if there wasn't chaos with the timing I suppose). Also I'm still racking my brain over a shipname so I'd love the suggestions... Any who, enjoy loves - M

Summary: A story as old as time itself. A Clone Commander. A Jedi. Two people bound by honor and duty. Lives defined by unwavering codes. But now, everything is shattered as the Empire orders the galactic execution of the once-peaceful warriors known as the Jedi. When Wolffe unexpectedly crosses paths with a fleeting figure from his past, he faces an agonizing choice. Will he obey the Empire’s command, or will he risk everything—his identity, his loyalty, and his future—in the desperate hope of rediscovering the man he once was?

Pairing: eventual Commander Wolffe x OFC! Perdita Halle

Warnings: Mentions of Order 66, Brief mentions of assisted suicide, angst with a hopeful ending

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist || Next Part

Wolffe often found the hum of space to be unnerving. Not that space itself had a hum—space was cold, dark, and empty. The hum came from the ship, a constant, low vibration that resonated through its walls, a reminder of its fragile protection against the infinite void outside. He hated this liminal space, this time spent outside planetary orbits, where nothing anchored him.

The vacuum had nearly claimed his life once. He could still feel it if he thought about it too long—the suffocating press of nothingness, the frozen tendrils of death creeping up his spine as his oxygen dwindled. The darkness had wrapped around him like a shroud, a cruel mockery of safety. Skywalker, his padawan and the Sentinel had pulled him back at the last moment, but something about him had stayed behind, left adrift in that endless void. He’d survived, but a part of him hadn’t.

He wondered, often, if death would feel the same. Cold. Empty. A silence so profound it swallowed everything. Or would it be something entirely different? Something warmer, like the faint memory of a sunrise on Kamino’s horizon or the strength of a brother’s arm slung across his shoulders after a battle well-fought?

Plo Koon had once told him that death was not the end but a transition—a merging with the living Force. The words had stayed with Wolffe, though he wasn’t sure if they brought comfort or dread. The concept was simple enough, but it opened too many questions. Would he still be himself in the Force? Would his memories, his regrets, his flaws follow him into that eternity?

And what of those he had lost? Would he see them again? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. The idea of facing the Jedi again, seeing their calm, unwavering gazes, filled him with an ache that felt too large to contain. He respected them deeply, but respect came with weight, and he often felt crushed beneath the burden of their trust. Undeserved, he thought. Always undeserved.

He stared out the viewport, watching stars streak by as the ship hurtled through hyperspace. The endless cascade of light reminded him of something—he wasn’t sure what. A memory tugged at the edges of his mind: Plo Koon standing beside him, hand on his shoulder, as they stared up at the night sky from a dusty outpost.

“There’s always light in the dark, Wolffe,” the Kel Dor had said, his voice steady, unshakable. “Even in the emptiest parts of space, the Force is alive.”

Wolffe had nodded then, silent as always. Even now, the words felt too far away. The darkness pressed in closer these days, even when he was surrounded by his squad, even when the hum of the ship reminded him he was still alive.

Maybe death was different for men like him—men who had taken orders, done what they had to, and carried the weight of it in silence. Maybe for him, death wouldn’t be a warm reunion with the Force but a cold, endless void, like the vacuum that had almost claimed him.

Maybe that was what he deserved.

He tightened his grip on the edge of the console, the familiar vibrations grounding him, even as the void outside seemed to call his name. The stars streaked on, indifferent to his musings, and he stayed where he was, caught between the hum of life and the silence of the dark.

Sure, right now he might be aboard an Imperial transport ship, tasked with carrying a highly dangerous prisoner marked for execution. But in his mind, he was still in the Abragado system, sitting in a pod, waiting. Waiting for the moment his life would be snuffed out in a war he neither fully understood nor had ever truly wanted to be part of.

He hadn’t believed Master Plo when the Jedi had reassured him, promising that someone would come looking for them. Wolffe had learned early on that he was expendable, a belief etched into him by the longnecks on Kamino. He was just another number, another body in an endless sea of soldiers bred for war.

Then came the Jedi. Their compassion, their respect, their quiet insistence on treating clones as individuals—it had shaken the very foundation of everything Wolffe thought he knew. In a world where duty and obedience were everything, where each clone was molded to fulfill a singular purpose, the Jedi had introduced something foreign—something that made him question the very core of his existence. 

Master Plo Koon, in particular, had made an inerasable impact. There was a quiet strength in the way he carried himself, an unspoken understanding that resonated with Wolffe on a level he hadn’t known was possible. Master Plo didn’t just command him; he listened—and more importantly, he understood. The way he treated Wolffe wasn’t like a subordinate or a mere tool of war, but as someone with thoughts, desires, and a sense of self. He spoke to him not as a soldier on the battlefield, but as a fellow being who had hopes, fears, and a need for connection.

When the order came, he didn't want to believe it. He hated how easily his finger had complied, how instinct had overridden thought. The words echoed in his mind, even now when he laid down for sleep: Good soldiers follow orders.

But in that moment, as Master Plo Koon’s starfighter plummeted from the sky, spiraling toward the ground in a fiery descent, Wolffe felt an emptiness unlike any he had ever known. It wasn’t just the shock of watching his commander, his ally, fall—it was the crushing realization that he was complicit in the destruction. The weight of betrayal was a heavy cloak around his shoulders, pressing down on him with unbearable force.

He had followed orders, as he always had, but this time, there was no duty, no justification that could soothe the gnawing ache in his chest. For so long, he had prided himself on his loyalty, on his ability to uphold the ideals of the Republic and the men he fought beside. But as the remnants of Plo Koon’s ship burned in the distance, Wolffe couldn’t help but feel that he had lost something far more vital than the life of a Jedi. He had lost the sense of himself as a man who stood for something honorable.

The world around him seemed to blur, the familiar sound of blaster fire and the chaos of war drowning out in the silence of his thoughts. For the first time, he saw the full, horrifying scope of what he had become—a tool of an Empire that had twisted everything he had once believed in. His identity, his purpose, had been shattered in that instant. As much as he wanted to believe he was still the same soldier, the same Commander, a part of him knew that he had crossed an irreparable line.

Wolffe had never felt further from the idea of being “good.” Not just because of the life he had taken, but because of the loss of the man he had been—the soldier who had once believed in the nobility of his cause.

The last time Wolffe truly felt in his heart that he had done the right thing was the night he learned Rex was still alive. He could still see Rex’s face—pleading, desperate, filled with a conviction that cut through Wolffe’s carefully constructed walls. Rex had begged him to see the truth, to understand that the Empire’s orders were wrong. That hunting a child wasn’t justice.

Wolffe had spent years trying—vainly, tirelessly—not to question his orders. He was a soldier. And good soldiers followed orders. 

But good soldiers didn’t hunt children or order their friends to be killed.

Good soldiers brought in criminal lowlifes, the kind of scum he now had locked in the brig, to justice. At least, that’s what Wolffe had assumed when the prisoner had been described to him as “highly dangerous.” But maybe it was his more recent desire to question his orders, or the way something about this mission didn’t sit right, that sparked the flicker of curiosity. Maybe it was the sentimentality he’d been battling since Rex’s reappearance, or the uneasy edge that always came with being in space.

Whatever the reason, he made a choice. He sent his men off for an early retreat, claiming he’d stand guard himself. He told himself it was for tactical reasons, but it wasn’t. It was personal.

Just like opening the cell door.

The door slid open with a low hiss, revealing a dimly lit chamber. Wolffe expected to see a hardened criminal, someone rough around the edges, beaten down by years of wrongdoing. Instead, his breath caught in his throat.

Seated on the floor, her back pressed against the cold wall, was a woman—young, though her posture bore the weight of someone who had seen more than her years should allow. She didn’t flinch or rise as the door opened, her bright green eyes snapping to him with an intensity that felt like a challenge. Even in the faint light, they glowed, piercing through him like a blade.

“Commander Wolffe,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, the hint of an edge betraying both recognition and caution.

He froze. His hand hovered near his blaster, not out of fear but reflex. “How do you know my name?” he asked, his tone sharp, though his heart hammered in his chest.

A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You don’t remember me, do you?” She shifted slightly, the movement revealing the scar that ran across her pale face, a jagged line that seemed out of place on her otherwise delicate features. “Not surprising. It was a lifetime ago.”

Wolffe’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. Her appearance tugged at a distant memory—a mission gone wrong, the deafening silence of space, and a bright flash of light. Falling out of the escape pod into waiting arms. Bright Green eyes. The scar.  His breath hitched as it clicked into place.

“The rescue,” he murmured. “Abregado.”

She inclined her head, her expression softened ever so slightly. “I was,” she said simply. “And now, here we are. Funny how the force works, isn’t it?”

His grip on the blaster faltered. This wasn’t a hardened criminal. This was a Jedi—a Sentinel, at that. She had pulled him from the pod, her face masked with the exception of her eyes. But he didn’t forget the voice, nor could he forget her scar.

He also didn’t forget the way she’d accompanied him to Aleen, attempting to calm his frustrations at the locals after the earthquake. He was built for combat, not a mercy mission. But she’d been there, calming that raging storm in him with her soft spoken words and delicate place of a hand on his skin. General Halle. Perdita. 

As he studied her features for the first time, he realized the shroud she had always worn concealed far more than he had anticipated. She had once explained to him that part of her trials as a padawan had been overcoming her vanity. After that moment, she had either been encouraged—or perhaps felt the need—to keep herself covered. The distinction between the two was significant, though he now found himself unable to recall which version of the truth it had been. The Jedi’s appearance had never been something he had been allowed to fully see, and so witnessing her efforts to hold her shoulders and chin high under his gaze felt wrong. Not that he hadn't been curious—he had. But seeing more than just those bright eyes and that scar across her face felt intrusive, as though he were crossing an unseen boundary.

Seeing her now, with her ghostly pale skin, so light that it was as if it had never touched sunlight. Her hair, equally fair, was a tangled mess of long braids and matted strands, though the right side was sheared close to her scalp, hinting at the harshness of the life she had experienced. Bruises etched into her neck, a testament to her resilience, showing that she hadn’t been easily subdued.

She was far more delicate than he’d imagined for someone of her position. She didn’t match the mental image he had formed of the woman who had once saved his life with her luminous eyes and sharp voice. Yet, in her very features, there was a contradiction that unsettled him. Her soft, pale skin was marred by a jagged scar that seemed to tell a story of its own. Her long hair clashed with the shock of short strands that spoke of some past confrontation. Her gentle eyes, framed by dark kohl. Her delicate lips—so soft and inviting—contradicted the clipped, controlled tone of her voice.

There was a complexity to her, an unsettling blend of contradictions, and it was that stark difference between appearance and reality that made her all the more enigmatic.

Not to mention, she truly was much more beautiful than he could’ve imagined. Even after their brief conversation together. He’d wondered, but to see it in front of him now, he found words difficult on his tongue. 

She wasn’t like most Jedi. Distant. Quiet. She wasn’t one to preach or stand at the frontlines of politics. Instead, she focused on the people of the Republic, working directly with them in ways that often went unnoticed, or at the Council’s rare request. But she was no stranger to rebellion either. He remembered how she’d stormed away when General Skywalker's padawan had been placed on trial—angry, in a way that Wolffe found unexpected. He had always been told Jedi were supposed to rise above emotions, especially anger. Yet here she was, as human as anyone else.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the weight of his own disillusionment pressing down on him. “Why would the Empire want you dead?”

Her smile disappeared, replaced by a shadowed expression. “Because I am breathing,” she said, her tone defensive. “And because that’s enough to be a threat to the Empire,”

Wolffe’s stomach churned. He wanted to call her a liar, to draw his blaster and end the conversation, but something about her words rooted him in place. She didn’t move, didn’t press further, as if sensing the storm inside him.

However, her eyes flashed with realization, and Wolffe felt the rare tug in his mind. He wasn’t immune to it. The Jedi, though usually respectful of a clone’s privacy, occasionally breached that unspoken boundary—usually in moments of intense concern. His thoughts became muddled, a fog settling over his mind, and in that instant, he knew. She had used the Force to reach into his mind.

“They sent you to hunt a child,” she said, her voice softening, almost mournful. “And now they’ve sent you to deliver me for my execution. How much longer are you going to follow orders, Commander?”

The words struck him harder than he expected, the weight of her gaze pinning him where he stood. For a moment, he didn’t feel like the soldier standing guard. He felt like the man adrift in the pod, lost in the silence of space, waiting for someone to find him.

He exhaled sharply, the silence broken by the harshness of his words. “What do you expect me to do? Not following orders makes you a traitor,” he spat.

She stared at him for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. “You’ve already disobeyed more than one order, haven’t you?” Her tone shifted, probing deeper. “Tell me, Wolffe—or do you prefer your number now? Should I respect the identity the Empire has forced upon you? After all, you seem so eager to follow their commands, to remain obedient, even if it means abandoning everything else.”

Wolffe’s jaw clenched as her words hit home, each syllable sharp, cutting through the layers of his resolve. He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers twitching at his side, but he refused to let her see the crack in his metaphorical armor.

"I follow orders," he said, his voice tight. "It's what I was made for. It's what we all were made for. You think I like this? You think I want to be this?" He gestured vaguely toward his armor, the cold, sterile shell that defined him as much as his number did. "The Empire... they gave us purpose. A place in this galaxy. A role. And what do you want me to do, General Halle? Turn my back on that? After everything?"

She took a slow step forward, her eyes unwavering, assessing him like she always had. He could feel the pull of the Force, a subtle pressure against his mind. She wasn’t pushing, but her presence lingered, and it was almost like she could see through him.

“I’m not asking you to abandon your past, Wolffe,” she said, her voice softer now, though the challenge remained. “I’m asking you to remember it. To remember who you were before the Empire twisted everything. You have never been just a number.”

Her words settled into the space between them, heavy with meaning, and Wolffe felt something shift deep inside him—a faint stirring he didn’t want to acknowledge. He had spent so long burying that part of himself, the part that still remembered loyalty to something more than orders. But now, in her presence, in the weight of her gaze, it felt like the walls he had built up around himself were starting to crack.

"You think I can just walk away?" he muttered, almost to himself. "That it’s that simple? The wars, the lies..." He paused, the words thick in his throat. "I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Perdita’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. She took another step toward him, this time with less certainty. She didn’t reach out, but the gesture was enough.

“You can always start again, find a new purpose, and maybe along the way find who you once were. I know you Wolffe. You are a good man. You always have been,” she commented quietly.

Wolffe didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the hum of the transport ship’s engines. The weight of his own thoughts pressed on him like an anchor, dragging him deeper into the abyss of uncertainty. He didn’t know what the right choice was. But standing here, facing the Jedi, he felt something stir in him that hadn’t been there for a long time.

The man he had been—the man before the Empire—was still there. Somewhere.

But could he still find his way back? Or was he already too far gone?

The question lingered, unanswered, and it gnawed at him from the inside out. The conflict within him was too great, an overwhelming surge of doubt and guilt. He was lost between what he felt and what he knew. He knew the Jedi were kind, compassionate—humane in a way the Empire could never be. But there was another part of him, the part shaped by years of conditioning, of following orders without question. The part that told him Jedi were the enemy, that they had betrayed him, betrayed all of them.

Even if she was correct, he didn’t feel he deserved a second chance.

"Stop," he snapped, his voice low and harsh, barely containing the fury building within him. "You're twisting my mind. That's why all you Jedi were executed." He spat the words, stepping back as if to escape the heavy weight of his own thoughts.

But Perdita’s gaze didn’t falter. Her eyes flashed with frustration—and something else. It was the same intensity that had pulled him from the wreckage of the Abregado system all those years ago. The depth her eyes had shown when he’d looked into them deeply under the glow of the setting sun on Aleen. The same ferocity that made her a Jedi in a way he could never fully understand.

“Did you pull the trigger yourself, Wolffe?” she demanded, her voice sharp and cutting through the haze in his mind.

His eyes widened. “What—?”

“Master Plo.” She took a step closer, her bound hands held out in front of her, as if she were trying to approach him without triggering some kind of defense mechanism. “Did you take the shot yourself?”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. His mind flashed back to that day, to the moment when it all went wrong. The blast rang out, and Plo Koon had fallen, silent and still.

“I didn’t—” Wolffe started, his voice shaking. “I didn’t want to…”

But she was relentless, her voice a hiss, her anger barely contained. “Did you pull the trigger yourself, or did you let one of your men do it for you? Did you stand by while they carried out the order?”

Wolffe’s heart pounded in his chest. She was right. He hadn’t pulled the trigger, not directly. He hadn’t been the one to execute the order. But he had been there. He had stood by calling the order while his brothers did the work. His hands had been tied by duty, by obedience and the relentless weight of his training. 

Her words cut deeper than he expected, and for the first time in years, he felt a crack in the armor he had spent so long building. The Jedi saw through him in a way no one else had in a long time.

“No,” Wolffe said, his voice heavy with bitterness. “Boost did it. Shot down the starfighter,” he explained with a dramatic sigh, as though the memory still weighed on him like a stone in his chest.

Perdita’s gaze never left him, unyielding. “Why?” she pressed, her voice soft but insistent, searching for the truth behind his words.

Wolffe hesitated, his eyes darkening with the weight of the past. “Because I couldn’t. Because I was weak…” His voice trailed off, thick with shame. He had always prided himself on being strong, unwavering. But in that moment, when the world seemed to fall apart around him, he had faltered.

“To lay down arms is not weakness,” she replied, her tone calm but firm, as though she had spoken those words to herself a thousand times.

He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Says the woman marked for execution,” he muttered, a sharp edge in his voice. His gaze flickered toward her, searching for the woman who had once saved him, who had risked everything to pull him from the wreckage when all seemed lost. The memory stung.

“You saved my life once,” he reminded her, his voice quieter now, tinged with a mix of gratitude and regret.

“I did,” Perdita agreed, her eyes softening, but her expression remained steady. “And now, may I ask one favor of you? A simple one, so that we can finally be even?”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow, the weight of her words sinking in slowly. There was something in the way she said it, something that made him pause. 

“Kill me,” she whispered solemnly, her words cutting through the silence like a blade.

Wolffe froze, his breath hitching in his chest. For a heartbeat, he couldn’t even process what she had just said. Kill me? The weight of those words landed on him with a staggering force, and for the first time since they’d started this uneasy exchange, his mind went utterly blank.

“W-What?” he stammered, confusion and disbelief mixing with a knot of panic that twisted deep inside him.

Perdita’s gaze never wavered, though there was a deep sadness in her eyes, a quiet resignation that tugged at something buried within him. She didn’t look like someone who feared death. In fact, she looked like someone who had made peace with it long ago.

“Kill me, Wolffe,” she repeated, her voice soft, but heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken things. “Where you are taking me is a fate worse than death,”

The words hit Wolffe like a punch to the gut. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he absorbed the depth of what she was saying. She was asking him to end her life, to release her from the nightmare that had followed her since the purge, since the fall of the Jedi. He could hear the quiet despair in her voice, the resignation that she had already accepted that no other option was left.

"Stop," he snapped, stepping forward with a sharpness he hadn't meant. His hand clenched into a fist at his side. "Don't say that."

Perdita’s eyes flickered to his, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability breaking through her hard exterior. "It's the truth," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve lived through so much betrayal, Wolffe. I’ve seen what the Empire does to those it deems 'enemy’, it’s not a pretty sight I assure you"

Wolffe’s breath caught in his throat as he processed her words. He had heard whispers of the horrors of the Empire, the ruthless efficiency of its cruelty, but hearing it from her—someone who had once been who had fought beside the clones and now found herself hunted—made the reality of it all feel sharper.

“It’s not fair for you to ask that of me,” he demanded, his voice tightening with frustration. The very thought of it made him nauseous. To kill an unarmed woman—especially a prisoner—was not only unjust, it would be a betrayal of everything he had ever stood for. It could lead him to a court-martial, or worse.

“Why not,” she demanded.

Her words struck him harder than he expected. The Empire had already claimed so much from him—his autonomy, his sense of purpose, his very soul at times. But now, the reality of what she was saying pressed against him like a vise. Was he just another pawn? Would he become expendable too, the moment they had no more use for him?

“I’m not one of them,” he said, his voice a mixture of defiance and doubt. He wasn’t, was he?

But Perdita only stared at him, her expression unreadable. “You’re more like them than you think,” she whispered. “You’ve followed their orders. You’ve done their bidding. And now… now you want to pretend you don’t have a choice in what happens to me. Pretend I got free, tried to kill your men. I’m a threat am I not? Is that not what they told you? Please Wolffe. I do not wish to suffer needlessly. However if your resignation truly is with the Empire then I suppose you truly do not have a choice.”

Wolffe took a step back, his breath quickening. She was right in one sense—he had followed orders, too many times without question. But was that enough to define him? Was that all he was now? A soldier for an Empire that cared nothing for his humanity? Or worse, the humanity of others.

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I still have a choice.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wavering just slightly. “Then make it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. Should he kill her? Should he let her go? Should he risk everything? How much more guilt would he carry in delivering her to whatever fate she had foreseen? She was asking him to do something impossible, something that could destroy him just as easily as it would destroy her.

But the longer he looked at her, the clearer it became. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. It wasn’t just about doing what was expected or what was easy. This was about redemption—for her, for him, for them both.

“I won’t kill you,” he said, the words steady but heavy. His eyes darted around. The cybernetic one struggling to see in the dimly lit cell as he searched for the control panel on the wall. 

Perdita didn’t respond, assuming he was ready to leave and her last attempt at peace, foiled by a clone who truly owed her little loyalty. As she prepared for his departure she felt the chains around her hands unlock, before falling away. Flexing her fingers she looked up to see him much closer now as he tugged her forearm.

“But I won’t let them take you, either.” His voice was low, almost aggressive in nature, as if he was revolting against the very action he was taking.

Perdita didn’t smile. She didn’t thank him. She just nodded, the flicker of something like hope passing through her eyes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give him the courage to take the next step—whatever that might be.

“Why?” she asked, her voice calm, though it carried the weight of disbelief. She paused for a moment, taking a breath to collect herself in the wake of his unexpected actions.

Wolffe met her gaze briefly, then dropped his eyes to the floor, his attention lingering on the mud caked on the tops of his boots. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to hers again, his eyes scanning hers as if unsure whether to reveal the truth. Yet, in this moment—after throwing caution to the wind—it seemed honesty was the only option.

The problem? He wasn’t entirely certain himself. Of course, he had theories. Wolffe had been searching for a way out of the Empire ever since that night he crossed paths with Rex. Having a Jedi by his side would significantly increase his chances of desertion. So, part of his reasoning, at least, was rooted in a tactical advantage.

But then, as his gaze fell on her face, resting on the scar that marked her eye, something else surfaced. He remembered how much he owed her—how she had been the one to help locate their damaged pod. Without her, he would have been lost to the cold expanse of space. A debt like that, a life saved, demanded more than mere gratitude—it demanded something deeper.

“You saved my life once, General,” he said, though internally he wanted to slam his head into the durasteel wall. He knew that she had done so more than once—countless times, in fact, for him and his brothers. “Consider us even,” he added, his words laced with a mixture of gratitude and frustration.

After a brief pause, he heard the soft sound of her approach. Her arm brushed against his unintentionally as she spoke, her voice steady but curious. “What’s your plan?”

Wolffe felt the faintest stir at the brush of her arm, but he quickly focused on her words. He turned slightly, his gaze meeting hers, but there was a momentary hesitation in his expression. The question hung in the air, heavy with more than just the immediate answer.

He knew she wasn’t just asking about the details or the strategy—she was asking what came next, what he planned to do with everything that had led them to this moment. He could feel the weight of her question, the uncertainty that hung heavily in the air between them.

For a moment, he stayed silent, his mind racing through countless possibilities, each one more uncertain than the last. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of the decision. "It’s a long shot, but I think it might work. You’ll have to trust me on this." He met her gaze, a quiet resolve in his eyes. "As for everything else, we’ll improvise—if we make it out of here."

"Alright. After you, Commander—"

"Wolffe," he interjected, his voice flat, almost terse. The weight of the moment pressed down on him—the knowledge that he was about to turn his back on everything he had ever known, to abandon the man he had been for so long. It felt like an impossible choice, and yet it was the only one left. In the face of such a drastic break, being addressed by his rank felt distant, cold, and impersonal. It was as though the uniform, the title, had become a mask for something that no longer fit him.

She paused for a moment, as if sensing the shift in the air between them. Her gaze met his, a flicker of understanding in her eyes before she nodded slightly, her voice equally dry, yet carrying a certain weight of its own. "Lead the way, Wolffe."

Her words, though simple, held a quiet acknowledgment—an acceptance of the change that had already begun. Neither of them needed to say more. The decision had been made, and whatever path lay ahead, it would be walked side by side.

To be continued...

(Also if you made it this far thank you so much! Below is the unedited image of Perdita courtesy of my lovely friend… you can find her bio HERE, on her page! Additionally, I may start a tag list soon so if anyone's interested just drop a comment or shoot me a DM <3!)

[eclec-tech]

Last Line Challenge

Thanks @clonethirstingisreal @ireadwithmyears @dystopicjumpsuit @frostycatblr-fandom-files for tagging me!

I've been working on a Dogma x OC fic here and there, and last night I started getting back into it hard. Here's the most recent bit. It's more of a chunk than a line, but I couldn't resist!

Dogma quickly donned the unconscious clone’s armor and helmet, noting with discomfort how the kama and pauldron added a weight he had not earned and would now never earn. But that weight was lifted almost as quickly as her words sunk in. She thought that he was worth saving—not CT-6922, but Dogma. It gave him a sudden strength he didn’t know he had. The Republic wanted to save the physical resource that was a healthy soldier. She wanted to save him.

NPT: @legacygirlingreen @apocalyp-tech-a @eyecandyeoz @ladysongmaster @lonewolflupe @drafthorsemath and anyone else wanting to ring in the new year with a writing tease!

[strawberrypinky]

OC Tag ✨💕

Thanks for the tag, @gufu-vire 💕

Make this picrew for your OC (or yourself) Take this Liminal Space uquiz for your OC (or yourself) Share your results! :)

Here's Elodie, the Tav of "fire & ice."

No Pressure Tagging: @legacygirlingreen @goodgirlgonebard @nyda-the-tav @taveliara-as-in-tav @avani-telvanni @autistichalsin @lynmeril @heyitszev

[skellymom]

I WILL MAKE THIS A SHORT SERIES!

MY READERS HAVE SPOKEN...and after some though I have somewhat an idea for a larger story. Will tag you all when the next installment drops in-between my "Vagabonds" Hunter x OC series installments!

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANTED TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST!!!

@marymunchkiin @talesfrommedinastation @giganonyx @thecoffeelorian

@hugmekenobi @the-bad-batch-baroness @genericficerblog @techs-goggles9902

@arctrooper69 @random-chaotic-bitch @dystopicjumpsuit @nika6q @heyclickadee @n0vqni @doublesunsets

@echo-lover @fionajames @spacemagicandlaserswords @phantom-of-the-keurig @bmarino

@momojedi @violinrox15 @ollietheshark0 @knightprincess

@blueinkblot @stelli-sketches-alt @ci-avmovies14 @melymigo

@crosshair-lover @floraseasbee @sarapaprikas-blog @idoubleswearimawriter

@ovaa-bi-bia @blairaptor @idoubleswearimawriter

@knightprincess @ladykagewaki @gun-roswell

@starrylothcat @savebytheodore @maybethatfanfictionwriter @wild-karrde

@jedipoodoo @incognito-lezbean

@purgetrooper77 @freesia-writes @mistress-of-the-empire @ex0genmultifandom

@lucifidious @lizartgurl @notavalidusername

@tink1221 @the-hexfiles @amorfista @scarelitt

@gonky-kong @arcsimper5 @cloneloverrrrr @the-rain-on-kamino

@thebadbatch2022 @cassandrasfairytale @everybirdfellsilent

@groguandthebadbatch @theosb0rnway

@woswasi3006 @greatshieldmaiden14

@heiress-prime @kanenas @vrycurious

@feral-ferrule @oporayamm @ci-avmovies14

@zahmaddog @billybatsonmylove @sleepycreativewriter

@feral-ferrule @zahmaddog @legacygirlingreen

@momojedi @emmaveale123 @nerd-ika

@clone-simper @soberatthedisco @summerfall21

@blessedarethesnakes @graciaramirez @omglisalithium

@x-galactic-star-x @lonelybeeart

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @purrfect-bun @ades106

@tbnrpotato @msskaywalker @sweet-carolinevl

@holocrondreams @techsgoggles @falling-among-the-stars

@cornfowercowboy @badbatchbeau @kitsolo06

@shadowphantomreaper @sayrvne @dangerousyetexhausted

@kaleidoscope1967eyes @thiswitchloves9904

@sleepycreativewriter @tardisgirl42 @taina-eny

@celiapoc @still-nix-d-goffic @mistress-of-the-empire

@12sddddd

[thecoffeelorian]

Day 1: Introduction/First Meeting

Prompt: First Meeting

Pairing: Tech x OC (Lyn Innsur)

Timeline: Season 1 of The Bad Batch (TBB)

Word Count: 1,265

Brief Description: I created Lyn Innsur as a growing role for my old series "The New Aftermath"...but I kinda dropped the whole AU some time ago due to lack of time/interest. ^^; Still, there's always the slight possibility I take it up again, so she comes along in Chapter 3 of 'The Past Is Another Land' for reference purposes.

Story Link: Click Here!

Special Notes: Click Here for a photo of Lyn:

Tags: @clonexocweek (main); @eclec-tech @orangez3st @badbatchposts @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

@thora-sniper @silverwings22 @legacygirlingreen because we're all participating 😊

Thud.

My right fist comes down hard upon the solid earth as I let myself fall down, and with it, whatever edible things I managed to choke down this morning give a collective lurch. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours has started to wear off, and I’m most likely not the only one within my squad who’s about to deal with its aftershocks.

In fact, I won't be surprised if one or more of my fellow Batchers turns out to have experienced weak legs, shaking hands, and all of the signs that come to a humanoid body after it's no longer in danger. I’m already there.

They stole my child! They stole my brother!

My body may be slowing down, but my mind naturally speeds up in order to counter it. I make mental notes about everything I'm sensing from my place upon the ground, because there's always a chance that I have to use some, if not all, of this information later on. Perhaps it'll be something about this planet’s small purple blossoms, like the ones growing along the edge of this stream.

Or it could be the way that humanoid movements, as well as their corresponding sounds, are a bit more detectable out here during this time of day. Especially if one or more of those humanoids happen to be Imperial ‘visitors’, but only in the distant future, as none of them have made any surprise appearances on this planet just yet.

Or, if I really want to use my imagination...it could be the reason why my hand is able to sink deep into the ground after striking it, the soil almost pooling around my fingers as I start to register its properties.

They stole my child...they stole my brother… This manner of soil, dirt and a host of other words in various languages just might have to serve as a distraction for me. I'm not ready to go find Echo yet. I'm not ready to check back in on Omega, or reconvene with Hunter, or even ask Wrecker if he needs a break. And, as I know that I’m in no shape to face Crosshair, this will simply have to do.

All right...all right. There’s water here, that’s a given…and nitrogen, obviously, the growth of organic life forms would be impossible without it…but what's this little thing right here?

Though my mind has begun to register all of the questions necessary for a minor scientific dig, it's also got a tiny area that seems to be indicating...play time?

What?

No, no, that's not what's happening here! I don't engage in such trivial things as ‘play time’! As one of the most brilliant minds from Kamino, ‘play time’ is one of the very last things I can ever do for the sake of this squad. The Kaminoans themselves already taught me that lesson!

Rather, as my left hand also sinks into the soil, and I start imagining myself breaking a few Imperial bones as easily as I’m able to break this ground…I instead name this feeling as anger. Perhaps even a mild form of rage, I would deduce, for the tensing of my musculature and the stiffening of my spinal column aren’t happening purely for the fun of it. No, they’re like that because my body is ready to fight.

Because I'm ready to fight, and if anyone from their side dared to cross this stream right now, any one of them at all...I feel that I may very well engage them, regardless of whatever weapon they decide to bring into the thick of things.

That isn't what happens, though, because for the next few minutes, I’m left with…nothing. The peace of an untouched landscape, sure…but also the lack of any worthwhile actions that might have otherwise helped me to work off some of my own penned-up fury. Perhaps this, this poison that had started to build up inside of me would come out in a wordless flood at a later time, like–like a surprise training session within the controlled environment of Cid’s bar, where there would be at least one trustworthy figure of some authority standing by in case things got too out of hand. That would have served me just fine, if not also the very important people standing by me.

Until we travel back there, though... I'm careful to remain silent for a while, if only to become better accustomed to this curious new planet. These first few minutes of complete peace and quiet begin to lead me in this direction, at least in theory, for the edge of my anger eases just a little as I get moving.

It's within these minutes that I scan the area a second time, holding my gaze over each new tree, bush, and patch of grass to detect unusual movements that might hint to me of any and all unwelcome visitors. Thankfully, no more than fifteen seconds later, I'm able to move on a little further as soon as I detect absolutely nothing.

Instead, it's the slower, more hesitant movement from several feet away thatcatches my eye... followed close behind by the equally timid female Twi'lek in a gray service uniform, her hands half raised in either a wordless greeting or, thanks to my Beskar armor, an improvised surrender. At this point in time, either one of these is equally as possible.

"Excuse me, but...are you the squad technician…?”

Her left lekku–curiously without any tattoos, though I'm not about to ask her why–twitches upward at the tip in a nervous ‘Hello’. Definitely a greeting, then, provided that her hesitation doesn’t suggest that she’s taken me for some manner of Stormtrooper.

Although, given recent events around a few systems within the galaxy…it really might not be all that surprising if she did.

"Who said I was anyone's technician?”

"Your daughter, maybe?"

Omega.

Of course.

She must have found her way to some kind of medical facility, most likely to get extra help for Crosshair. No one else in this squad could have been injured so quickly, if only because there isn’t any loose ordnance hiding away on this planet. I made sure of that a few hours ahead of time, as I knew for a fact that we wouldhave enough to focus on down here without any ‘presents’ from the Separatists.

"Hm.... well, I can't exactly give you my name, but I can give you some of my time. Was there anyone else with her? A wounded man with silver hair, maybe?"

The Twi'lek woman nods briefly, her hands falling back to her sides.

"Him and three others. One with long black hair, the other two with none. I–I didn’t ask for any names.”

Perfect. They're all present and accounted for. This could mean that, whatever problems we might have otherwise faced upon this planet, unexpected separation shouldn’t be one of them. In theory, anyway.

“All right, then,” I tell her, not sure if I’m ready to face Round Two of my brother’s temper just yet, or if it would be much worse to keep on avoiding him in his condition. At the same time, perhaps one more meeting could be good enough for us both, whether or not we manage to talk to one another without losing our tempers…let alone our nerves.

In other words, theories are useless if they can’t be proven with the right amount of experiments…and this just might be the most important one I have for some time yet.

"Everyone else is already there, so we shouldn’t keep them waiting. Please lead on.”

[skellymom]

Thanks for the tag @legacygirlingreen !

🥹 My heart sings...

...me and my OC can only hope to be that good... 🫠

Tagging with no pressure (apologies for any repeats):

@fionajames

@transmascanakin

@techs-goggles9902

@knightprincess

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Saw this going around twitter, looked like fun. What? I'm not procrastinating (I am, I really am)

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz

Post the results side-by-side. No pressure tags: @alypink, @revnah1406, @madefordvarka, @deadbranch, @welldonekhushi, @kaitaiga, @applbottmjeens, @froglights-and-pearls

[silverxstardust]

Masterlist of fanfictions with Sebastian Sallow I adore ❤️ {in random order}

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆.・゜──── ✧⁠ ──── ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆.・゜

Part 2 here

• "The Serpent and The Bird" by MiaDMarquez

Book 1 & Book 2

�� "The List" by MiaDMarquez (wattpad)

• "Ever After: A day in the life." by MiaDMarquez

• "Up and Down" by Tinyshot @tiny-shot

• "Lost and Found | Sebastian Sallow x Reader" by tarnished_silver

• "Vipers | A Sebastian Sallow Rivals to Lovers Story" by LegendsofLink

• "Shadow of the Heir" by Adylore @adylorewrites

• "The Raven and the Snake" by choccymilky @choccy-milky

• "Web of lies (S.S x FemMC)" by loneWolv_ @lwolv

• "It'a always been you | Sebastian Sallow x Fenale MC" by 2centniffler

• "In The Shadow of Love" by Flowerkins96

• "The Forsaken Keeper" by RosalindThea

• "The Return of Sebastian Sallow || 10 Years After Hogwarts Legacy" by @juneymont

• "In the Shadow of Us" by Slytherizz @slytherizz

• "Seemingly Unrequited" by tarnished_silver

• "A Tale in Gold and Green" by sallowly

• "Do You Trust Me? | Sebastian Sallow x Reader " by tarnished_silver

• "Whatever it Takes" by Slytherizz

• "Sentire" by AlentiaHart (Alentia)

• "The Eagle & The Serpent // Sebastian Sallow" by aquilaeserpens

• "Dark Legacies" by sebastiansallow

• "In the Shadow of the Vivarium" by EverLander

• "Loyal and Steadfast" by Degenerates_and_only_Deganerates

• "Risk // Sebastian Sallow" by orangemochafrapp @ginger-lala

• "In The Shadow of His Love (Reader vs Sebastian Sallow)" by Miya_dono

• "A Lesson in Healing" by acciolatte

• "Kindred | Hogwarts Legacy" by smile_arigatou (ao3 & wattpad)

• "Invisible String" by cosmetologynerd

• "The Griffindor Legacy" by @mianeryh

• "In The Shadow of Love" by Mattyz_block

• "Alone - A Hogwarts Legacy Story" by moonxcandy (I liked it till the chapter 37~ and now stopped reading. Sorry I'm dissapointed where story went).

• "Sebastian Sallow x MC!OC: SongbirdsLove" by BR7566

• "A Blessing and a Curse" by @animasola86

• "In the Shadows" by Miss_Pegasus @mspegasus17

• "Book of Revelation" by ohnoema (wattpad)

• "Our Web Of Lies" by MissDelphina

• "strumming hearts" by LegacyGirlinGreen @legacygirlingreen

• "In Your Care" by @animasola86

• "Bounded by Fate - Sebastian Sallow" by nasilemakroticanai

I'm crazy about atm: 🔥

• "Evoke" by Sarahbx @sarahbx

• "The Serpent's Paramour" by @anto-pops

Loved the story so much!

• "Love Me, Love Me Not" by @blueraineshadows

Friends with benefits (love the idea so much!)

• "The Shape of Your Body is Blue" by endless_starlight @endless-starlight-legacy

Re- telling the game story with little different storyline

• "Inky Blue Flames" by thursday_moonrise11

Extreme angst that I LOVED

• "Intertwine" by ayveex3 🥹🥹🥹

Yule Ball 💗

• "Prove yourself to me" by @hannahlikeso741

• "The Christmas Ball" by @sebswebs

Enemies to lovers 💔

• "Vipers | A Sebastian Sallo Rivals to Lovers Story" by LegendsofLink

• "Ashes and Dust" by MyInfinite_Love @my-infinitelove

• "UnOrdinary" by The_Original_Izzy (wattpad)

• "Old wounds hurt" by Hannahlikeso741 @hannahlikeso741

• "Entombed // Sebastian Sallow" by orangemochafrapp (ginger_lala)

• "In the Shadow of Embrance" by christo303

• "In the Shadows of Love" by WitchyVibes91

• "Tempest // Sebastian Sallow" by orangemochafrapp @ginger-lala

• "The Heartbreak Prince Sebastian Sallow" by Destinychild27 💔

• " The Aftermath" by lizziebizzie96

Friends to Enemies to Friends xD

• "You're Golden" by Justalittlelilac

....

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆.・゜──── ✧⁠ ──── ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆.・゜

Spicy! 🔞 {Warning!} ❗

• "Magic, Madness, Heaven, Sin" by speedgriffon (+ angst) @sloanesallow

• "Stockholm Syndrome" by KilledByTheHuntress ❗

• "Look at me // Sebastian Sallow x Reader " by sallowsinfluence

• "A Night In Undercroft" by @animasola86

• "Cheirophilia" 🔥 by @anto-pops

• "Be my Valentine (Be Mine)" by @sissyisawitch

• "A Forbidden Favour" by @sebswebs

• "Dangerous and Delightful" by Polia

• "The Hypothesis" by @anto-pops

• "Lessons In Love-Making" by @animasola86

• "Pleasure Is All Mine" by @quackwizardry

• "Cock piercing" part 1 and part 2 by @little-emerald-snake 🤭

• "Dandelion" by @trappezoider

Amazing and hot os (Seb learns MC how to fight Imperius course) 🥹🔥

• "Trust Fall" by forbiddenfairytales @forbiddenxfairytales

Angst and 🔥

• "One Year Later" by @blueraineshadows

Dedicated to me ❤️‍🔥

• "Satisfy Us Me" by Rose_Light

To read list:

• "The Sun, the moon, and All Our Stars" by @sunnyrealist

• "Book Of Revelation" by @ohnoema

• "Sallow" by Rose_Light

• "When We're Older" by wordswe_neversaid

• "snow on the beach" by LegacyGirlinGreen

• "My Heart & Soul || Sebastian Sallow x Reader" by Mrssallow

• "The Road Back To You // Sebastian Sallow" by maddinoble (wattpad) @sailorgoon13

• "Consuming Darkness: Sebastian Sallow" by @ronniesallow

I'm in love with this story 😭🙏

• "Exile || Sebastian Sallow" by rosellasallow

And "Evermore"

[legacygirlingreen]

"Lessons in Intimacy" || Wolffe x OFC Perdita || Clone x Clone OC Week 2025

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x OFC Perdita Halle (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 7.7k+

Rating: SFW with MILD NSFW for kissing

Warnings: some smooching (but def more on the PG/PG 13 side, illusions to Wolffe being a horny boy

Author's Note: Day 4 of @clonexocweek! Keeping the Wolffe and Perdita train rolling! I always just imagined they would have little/no reservations regarding how they feel given the gravity of their situation. As always, this story exists within @leenathegreengirl 's AU and she is responsible for helping bring Perdita to life!

Previous Work || Masterlist

Since that day in the swamp, an undeniable shift had occurred between the two of them. It wasn’t just the lingering tension of being a clone deserter and a Jedi survivor—though that alone created its own weight. The sleepless nights, the scarce meals, and the constant danger served as grim reminders of how unstable everything had become. Yet, amidst the chaos, they had somehow found more moments of reprieve. They weren't grand gestures, nor were they marked by any overwhelming event. Rather, these were small, quiet instances of connection that neither had expected.

Perdita might have lost the Jedi Order, but the teachings, the discipline, and the inner strength they had instilled in her remained firmly etched in her being. The same could be said for Wolffe, whose identity had long been intertwined with military regulation and the unwavering sense of purpose it provided. Without the army, though, a quiet isolation tugged at him—a feeling that didn't go away even when he was in close proximity to her. And not just any woman, but someone who had become undeniably alluring in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The tension between them was palpable, a silent understanding that neither knew how to navigate fully.

Wolffe thought he knew what intimacy was. He'd learned it in the dim-lit corners of the 79s, where his brothers often treated him to a drink or arranged for an entertainer to spend time with him just to lift his spirits before another deployment. To him, intimacy was simple—something physical, a way to fulfill one’s primal needs. He saw it as nothing more than a release of built-up tension, a temporary escape from the demands of war.

But soon, he discovered that intimacy could be far more than that.

Intimacy, he learned, could take on a softness he had never anticipated. It wasn’t always the loud, demanding force he once thought it to be. Sometimes, it was the gentle stroke of a hand on his shoulder, a quiet gesture that pulled him from sleep without the harsh jolt of a brother’s shake, warning him of impending danger. It was a tender invitation to wake, a peaceful pull toward the world of the living, rather than the constant tension of war.

It was in the quiet words exchanged in moments when the world outside seemed too loud to bear. Simple, soft-spoken affirmations that settled deep in his chest, offering comfort when it was most needed. It wasn’t about grand declarations, but the small, deliberate acts of care—like passing him something he needed without having to ask, an understanding shared in the absence of conversation. These actions didn’t demand recognition, but they carried with them a sense of being seen, of being valued without expectation.

Intimacy was also found in the unspoken—those fleeting moments when their eyes met, and everything he needed to understand was written in the depths of her gaze. Her green eyes, always so full of life, seemed to flicker with every emotion under the sun, each spark and flash a silent conversation between them. And in those brief exchanges, he found himself captivated—not just by the fire in her eyes, but by the way her very presence made him feel as if he were staring at the stars themselves, their brilliant glow far more radiant than anything he’d ever seen on a battlefield. In those moments, everything else faded, and the world, for just a heartbeat, felt right.

Perdita had grown more comfortable touching him, just as he had with her. But even as the distance between them shrank, there remained a certain innocence in her actions that he couldn’t ignore. Her hands always hovered just out of reach of anything that could be construed as inappropriate, lingering in spaces that could easily be mistaken for friendly affection. But to Wolffe, it felt like an unspoken tease, a maddening restraint that never allowed him the release he desperately craved.

Occasionally, she would rise onto her toes, pressing an uncertain kiss to his cheek, or let her hands rest just a breath away from his, their fingers touching but never quite connecting for more than a few seconds. That small, simple proximity was enough to send a wave of heat flooding through him, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the kind of touch he was used to—the hurried, frantic brushes of a soldier’s world, or the fleeting, almost empty encounters that filled his past. No, this was something else entirely. It was slower, more deliberate, and infinitely more frustrating.

With every innocent gesture, Wolffe found himself tightening. His body responded instinctively, a flare of desire mixed with tension, but it was a hunger he couldn’t fully satiate. He longed to pull her closer, to deepen the contact between them, but he couldn't bring himself to cross the invisible line that she had unknowingly set between them. Her hesitation, her sweetness, only made his need more unbearable. It felt as if she didn’t fully understand the effect her closeness had on him—the way his breath would catch when her fingers brushed against his, or how his pulse would race when her lips hovered so close to his skin. 

He was becoming painfully aware of every inch of space between them, of the unfulfilled longing simmering just beneath the surface. Every moment her touch lingered near his skin, yet not on it, was like a cruel tease—an agonizing reminder of what he couldn’t have. He could feel his muscles tightening, his hands twitching with the urge to reach for her, to close the gap that seemed so small yet felt like an impossible chasm. Her innocence in these moments only heightened the tension within him, pushing him to the edge of something he didn’t know how to express.

If Wolffe had to make a guess, he was almost certain that Perdita had no clue just how much her seemingly innocent, friendly touches were affecting him. It wasn’t as if he could blame her for it—after all, her gestures were so natural, so effortless. She was kind, affectionate even, but completely unaware of the undercurrent they stirred in him. Wolffe doubted the Jedi Order ever went into detail about physical relationships—hell, he was certain they actively discouraged them. The notion that Perdita might be entirely oblivious to the effect her proximity had on him gnawed at him. But it wasn’t just her casual touches that kept him awake at night, it was the creeping realization that if she ever became aware of how close she was to unraveling him, it might be too late.

She had a way of drawing him in with her subtle presence—when they found those rare, quiet moments of peace amidst the chaos of war. Lately, she had taken to meditating with him, her calm voice guiding him to stillness as they sat together on the cold durasteel floor. The simple act of her hand gently tugging at his wrist, encouraging him to join her on the floor, had become a ritual that hypnotized him, a pull that made him feel anchored even as the chaos raged on around them. And in those moments, the space between them felt like more than just physical distance—it felt charged.

His worry that she might one day sense the depth of his longing never fully left him. That ever-present fear lurked in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of how fragile everything was. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a certain indifference toward it. After all, they could both die at any moment. The weight of the Empire was always with him, heavy and undeniable, and that gnawing fear of regret—of never fully living—pushed him forward. It was why, despite his internal conflict, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of her presence without pulling away.

So there he was, eyes closed, sitting against the cold durasteel floor, breathing in time with her. A former soldier, hardened by years of battle, now beside a Jedi, breathing in the calm of the Force, as though it was enough to quiet the turmoil inside him—enough to hold off the flood of emotions that threatened to overtake him. In that shared silence, in the simple act of sitting together, there was a connection that spoke volumes, even if they never dared to acknowledge it aloud.

"You seem troubled," she spoke calmly, her voice a soft murmur that floated through the stillness between them. Her eyes remained closed, her posture serene and unbothered by the tension that had crept into his own. Wolffe could feel her awareness like a weight on his chest, a quiet pressure that knew him better than he knew himself. The very moment he tried to suppress the thoughts racing through his mind, tried to push them back into the recesses of his mind, they exploded to the forefront, impossible to ignore. And as if on cue, Perdita’s words landed with surgical precision, cutting through the fragile defenses he'd tried to erect around himself.

He hadn’t expected her to notice. No, he had hoped she wouldn’t. But that calm voice of hers—so attuned to the smallest shifts in energy—had felt his unrest. The realization was jarring. He had never been good at hiding things, but he had hoped he could at least keep the weight of his emotions buried, just for a little while longer.

"Nothing to report, Princess," Wolffe muttered, offering the lie with the same practiced ease he'd used countless times. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew how hollow they sounded. Lying to a Jedi was a fool’s errand—a truth he'd learned long ago. They could feel it, sense it, and even without reading his mind, Perdita could likely see the cracks in his facade. It was frustrating, infuriating even, but beneath it all, there was an undeniable pull he couldn't ignore, a desire to be seen, even in his weakest moments.

Perdita’s brow barely twitched, and her lips curled into the faintest of smiles, the kind that always seemed to dance just beyond the reach of his understanding. She wasn’t fooled. She knew better, and her unwavering patience was the only thing keeping him from crumbling completely under the weight of his own silence.

“Wanna try again?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent, a quiet challenge hidden within her calm words. There was no judgment in her tone, no forceful pressure, only a gentle invitation to speak, to open up—to stop hiding from the inevitable.

Wolffe’s chest tightened as the walls he had built around himself slowly began to crack. He sighed, a low, resigned sound that echoed in the emptiness around them. The soft hum of the ship’s engines was the only other sound in the room, a constant reminder of their vagabond existence. He could feel the familiar, bitter taste of frustration rising in his throat, but beneath that, there was something else—something raw and unspoken. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to say it, whatever it was, until this very moment.

His eyes, which had been cast downward, now rose to meet hers. And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t look away. There was no mask, no hardened soldier in this moment—just a man on the edge of something far more complicated than he had ever been willing to admit.

"I..." His voice faltered, unsure of how to even begin. How did you explain this, this deep, unshakable pull, the frustration that was gnawing away at him? How could he put into words the need that thrummed through his every vein, the longing that tightened in his chest every time she was near? But there were no easy words for that, no neat explanations for the mess of emotions tangled inside him.

She waited in silence, her presence warm and steady beside him. Her gaze never wavered, always patient, always understanding. Perdita didn’t push. She simply waited—and that, in itself, made him feel like he might be able to breathe again.

"I don’t know what to say," Wolffe finally admitted, his voice a strained whisper, almost drowned out by the stillness around them. The words hung between them, fragile and uncertain, as if speaking them aloud made the tension in the room more real, more undeniable. His gaze dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet hers for fear of what she might see in his eyes. "I don’t know how to make sense of any of this," he continued, the weight of his own admission pressing on his chest.

He let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself, but the frustration was still there, swirling in the pit of his stomach. This—whatever this was, this feeling that refused to be ignored—was something he hadn’t been prepared for. It wasn’t just the endless longing that tugged at him when she was near. It wasn’t just the moments of closeness that left him craving more. No, it was everything about her, about the way she made him feel, something he couldn’t fully comprehend, let alone explain.

His mind raced, searching for a way to push it all back, to bury it under the guise of duty and professionalism. He cleared his throat, trying to force the words out as if they would somehow make the entire mess easier to understand. “It’s... certainly not appropriate, if you understand what I’m referring to—” he trailed off, hoping that by keeping his words vague enough, by steering the conversation into safer waters, she might not catch on. Perhaps her innocence, her unawareness of the deeper implications of his feelings, would give him a way out. If he could only keep it distant, keep it impersonal, maybe she wouldn’t realize the depth of his struggle.

But even as the words left his lips, he knew it was futile. Perdita wasn’t the type to let things go unsaid, to let him retreat behind a wall of half-truths. He could see it in her eyes, that quiet patience, the way she studied him as if she already knew what he was trying to hide, what he was afraid to confront. The more he tried to distance himself from his emotions, the more she seemed to close the gap between them, her presence an unspoken invitation for him to be honest.

And yet, Wolffe couldn’t quite bring himself to say it—couldn’t bring himself to fully face what this was, what she was making him feel. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, thick and uncomfortable, hoping that she would either let it go or perhaps misunderstand, so he wouldn’t have to say the words he feared would change everything.

“You just seem… frustrated. Is there something I have done, or...?” Perdita asked, her voice soft, careful, as if she were stepping around something fragile, afraid of shattering whatever quiet peace they had managed to maintain between them.

Wolffe exhaled a deep, frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “It’s more about what you haven’t done, Princess,” he muttered, unable to keep the edge of irritation from his tone. His words felt heavier than he wanted them to, as if they were a burden he’d been carrying for too long, and now it was spilling out uncontrollably.

Perdita’s brow furrowed, her lips parting slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice still measured but filled with a hint of concern. It was clear she didn’t fully understand what he was getting at, and the uncertainty in her eyes only deepened his frustration.

Wolffe ran his fingers over his face, trying to find the right way to explain it, to put into words the twisted mess of longing and restraint that had been consuming him. “I mean...” He hesitated, unsure how to continue without making himself sound even more ridiculous. He gestured vaguely to himself, hoping the meaning would be clear without him needing to spell it out. “Well, I’m a...” He motioned to his chest and arms, hoping she would understand what he meant, that he was referring to being a man, to the physical nature of who he was. But the words felt clumsy, incomplete, a poor substitute for the weight he was carrying.

He looked at her—at Perdita—and then gestured toward her, his hand sweeping in the air as if to illustrate the undeniable truth of her beauty. She was graceful, radiant, every movement filled with a quiet strength that was impossible to ignore. He didn’t need to say the words; he hoped she could read the message in his body language. “And you are…” he trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the sentence. He motioned toward her as if to say, You’re everything I’ve been craving in the most basic, physical regard—but of course, the words wouldn’t come.

Perdita blinked at him, her expression still unreadable. She tilted her head slightly, the confusion only deepening. It was clear that his cryptic, roundabout attempt to explain himself had only made things murkier, not clearer. The more he tried to simplify it, the more complicated it seemed to become.

Wolffe cursed under his breath, frustrated by his own inability to make sense of the chaos inside him. He had hoped that by being vague, he could avoid truly confronting the tangled mess of desire, attraction, and hesitation. But now, standing there with her, so close and yet so far, he couldn’t hide from it any longer.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered, running his hand over his face again. “I’m trying to tell you that... you don’t see it, how hard it is for me to just be around you. How much I have to hold back every damn second, because—because you’re you, and I’m... I’m me. And everything between us feels like this endless pull, and I don’t know what to do with it.” His voice dropped to a near whisper by the end, as if he were confessing a secret he had never meant to share.

For a moment, there was a silence—an almost suffocating pause where Wolffe wasn’t sure if he had said too much, or not enough. He could feel his pulse quicken as he waited for her response, the air thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of them could quite wrap their hands around. He had expected her to recoil, to pull away, to be confused or even annoyed. But instead, all he could do was hope that, somehow, she would understand.

Perdita’s eyes softened as she watched him, the confusion slowly clearing from her expression. For a long moment, she said nothing, but her gaze didn’t waver from him. There was something in the way she looked at him—something that told him she wasn’t judging, wasn’t dismissing his words as incoherent ramblings. She was processing, trying to understand, trying to hear him despite not fully understanding.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost as if she were carefully weighing each word before she let it slip into the space between them. “Wolffe,” she said, her tone gentle, “I never meant to make things... complicated. I know that with proximity and attraction, the effect it can have.” She paused for a breath, meeting his eyes with an intensity that made him feel like she was seeing straight through him. “But I didn’t choose to make this difficult for you. I just… I don’t know how to navigate this either.” Her hands folded neatly in her lap, betraying the calm exterior she was trying to maintain.

Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. He hadn’t expected that—he hadn’t expected her to admit that she, too, was feeling the strain of this unspoken tension between them. It was a relief of sorts, but it also left him feeling exposed, as if the very thing he’d been trying to keep buried had finally been laid bare between them.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he muttered, the words laced with frustration. He didn’t want to hear her apologize. He didn’t want to hear her backpedal and reassure him. He just wanted her to understand what he was struggling with. “It’s not your fault, it’s just…” His voice trailed off as his hands dropped to his sides in defeat. “Everything feels like it’s always hanging on the edge of something—like the line between what’s acceptable and what isn’t keeps shifting. One moment, you’re here, and the next, it’s like I can’t breathe, because I can’t touch you, can’t—” He broke off, frustrated, not sure what he was trying to say anymore.

Perdita’s face softened even more, her expression turning contemplative. “Wolffe…” she began again, more slowly this time. “You don’t have to hold back everything. We don’t have to pretend we don’t feel the tension, the pull between us.” She leaned closer to him, her gaze steady, as though she was trying to show him that there was no need to be afraid of the things that had been left unsaid for so long. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t figure this out without rushing. Because you’re not the only one. I feel it too. But this—whatever this is—doesn’t have to be something that’s defined by a single moment of impulse.”

Wolffe’s chest tightened, and he found himself struggling to form words. Her words were exactly what he had been afraid to admit to himself, but there was something different in the way she said it. There was no judgment, no rejection, just an understanding. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t feel like the weight of his feelings was something he had to carry alone. But it didn’t make the tension between them disappear. It didn’t make the gnawing hunger go away, either.

"But it still doesn’t make sense," Wolffe muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The words felt heavy, the frustration mixing with a deeper, more aching confusion that gnawed at him. "It’s like I’m caught in two places at once. The soldier part of me tells me to fight it, to ignore it, to keep everything in line, to control myself. But the man inside me—" He paused, swallowing hard before lifting his eyes to meet hers, a raw honesty in them now. "The man inside me says... a lot of things I probably shouldn’t say out loud."

Perdita didn’t flinch. She didn’t pull away. She stood there, still and steady, her gaze focused on him with a quiet intensity, like she was taking in every word he spoke, every emotion that colored his tone. Her eyes softened, the corners of her lips twitching upward slightly, but not in mockery. There was no judgment, no hesitation—just a kind of understanding that left Wolffe wondering if she already knew what was hidden beneath his words.

"I honestly do not think I understand what you mean," she said gently, her voice barely a whisper now, carrying a calmness that was almost too much for him to handle at this point. She stepped closer, her presence a gentle force, one that both anchored and unnerved him. "But... I am open to you enlightening me."

The invitation hung in the air, heavy with possibility. For a moment, Wolffe felt the room close in around him, the walls pressing against him from all sides. Her proximity only seemed to amplify the turmoil inside him, the confusion, the heat that had been simmering beneath his skin. And, despite himself, he felt his words spilling out before he could rein them back in.

"I need you to tell me," Wolffe said, his voice growing more strained, "if that is some really roundabout way of telling me I can kiss you properly. And if it’s not, and you still have some sort of boundary from the Jedi code—well, that’s one thing. But…" He paused, almost breathless, the vulnerability of it all pressing down on him like a weight. "I just need you to tell me, Perdita, what I’m supposed to do here. Because I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I can’t keep fighting this—this thing that’s growing between us."

His words tumbled out faster than he intended, the raw, desperate edge to them unmistakable. His pulse quickened, and a small part of him wanted to shrink back, to disappear from the weight of his own confession. As the last syllable left his lips, he felt a deep flush rise to his face, a hot wave of embarrassment flooding him. His heart raced, and he wanted to bury his face in his hands, to run and hide from the vulnerability that now lay between them like an exposed nerve. The realization that he had just begged, in his own broken way, for clarity was almost more than he could bear. Yet, he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t reel in the need that had burst from his chest, the burning desire for her to just—say it.

Perdita’s eyes widened slightly at Wolffe’s admission, her face flushing a deep pink. She blinked, clearly caught off guard by his openness, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it, her gaze falling to the floor between them, as though the weight of the moment had suddenly become too much for her to bear.

“I...” Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the nerves that were starting to bubble up inside her. She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve never been kissed, Wolffe.”

The words came out in a rush, almost like she was apologizing for them. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, the vulnerability of the confession weighing heavily on her. She couldn’t believe she had just said that—couldn’t believe she had admitted it out loud, especially after everything they had been through. The idea of someone as experienced as Wolffe, a soldier with his likely scandalous shoreleaves, teaching her how to kiss seemed absurd, even more so when she realized how much she wanted to be closer to him, to feel that connection.

Wolffe blinked, his mouth slightly open as he tried to process her words. For a split second, he thought he had misheard her. “Wait... you’ve never?” he stammered, his mind momentarily short-circuiting.

Perdita quickly nodded, biting her lip, her eyes avoiding his as if the admission alone was too much to face. “I know, it’s... it’s probably ridiculous, given everything, but I’ve never had the chance,” she said softly, her voice almost drowned by the beating of her own heart. “I mean, with the Jedi way and everything, we—well, it’s complicated.”

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he muttered under his breath, his nerves suddenly bubbling up like a boiling pot. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, Perdita. I’m... I’m not some expert. I’ve messed around on occasion but, not this.” The uncertainty in his voice was clear, and he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him—a nervous, self-deprecating sound.

Perdita’s blush deepened at the idea of him being the one to guide her in something so personal. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it, even fantasized about it, but the reality of it suddenly felt so overwhelming. She looked up at him, and for the first time, there was something in her eyes—something more than just curiosity. There was a spark of hope, of wanting, despite the embarrassment tightening her chest.

“I don’t expect you to teach me,” she said quietly, almost too softly. “I mean, I... I want to try. If... if that’s okay with you.” She let the words trail off, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she should even continue. She wasn’t sure if she was making a huge mistake, or if she was somehow pushing them both too far too quickly. But she couldn’t take back what she had said. The desire, the tension between them, was undeniable now.

Wolffe swallowed hard, unsure of what to say, the realization of the situation sinking in. He had always been a leader, someone who was expected to take charge, to make decisions without hesitation. But this—this—was different. He was no expert in tenderness, in softness. He had no clue how to navigate this delicate, fragile moment with her, especially when it was so loaded with expectations that he wasn’t sure he was ready to handle it.

“I don’t want to... make you uncomfortable,” Wolffe finally admitted, his voice low, betraying his uncertainty. “I mean, I don’t want to mess this up for you, or make it feel wrong.”

His eyes met hers then, and for the first time, he saw the flicker of something shared between them. A longing, yes, but also a kind of raw need to connect—to figure out what this all meant. They were both walking blind into this, but neither of them was willing to pull back.

Perdita stood still for a moment, her hand subtly reaching out, fingers brushing his wrist as if to reassure him, to show him that she wasn’t afraid. The touch sent a shock of warmth through his body, and suddenly everything seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them standing there, suspended in time.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m nervous too. But maybe that’s... okay.”

Wolffe’s heart hammered in his chest, his breath shallow. He never thought he’d be in this position. The soldier, the battle-hardened warrior, unsure of how to make this moment right. But as he looked at her—so vulnerable, so open, yet still holding that quiet strength—he realized that maybe, just maybe, this was something worth figuring out. Together.

Taking a deep breath, Wolffe finally nodded, the weight of his own nerves pushing him to make a decision. He stepped closer, his hand trembling slightly as it reached out, just brushing her cheek. “We take it slow,” he murmured. Perdita nodded, her eyes shining with something that was half hope, half uncertainty. But she trusted him, and somehow, in that moment, Wolffe felt as if he might actually have the courage to trust himself, too.

Wolffe took a deep breath, his hand still hovering near her cheek, fingers trembling ever so slightly. The tension between them was palpable, the unspoken weight of what they were about to do hanging in the air like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. He felt the world around them fall away, the sounds of the ship’s engine fading into nothingness as he focused solely on her—the softness of her skin, the warmth of her presence.

Perdita’s eyes locked with his, her gaze steady, her lips parted slightly, waiting. Waiting for him to take the next step, to close the gap between them. She wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t retreating. She was there, right in front of him, trusting him. And that trust, as simple and as complex as it was, made his heart race.

For a long moment, Wolffe stood there, his thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty, and yet, beneath the chaos, there was a sense of clarity—something that told him this was right. He didn’t need to have all the answers. He didn’t need to be perfect. He just needed to be here, to be present with her.

His fingers brushed her cheek again, this time lingering just a little longer, his touch gentler than he ever thought possible. Perdita’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and Wolffe took it as a silent permission, as a quiet acknowledgement that she was ready, too.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Wolffe leaned in, his breath warm against her face. He could feel the pulse at her throat, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and it grounded him. This was no battlefield. This wasn’t a mission with clear orders and sharp objectives. This was just him and her. Two people, unsure but willing to take the plunge.

And then, just before his lips met hers, he paused—just for a heartbeat. A brief moment of hesitation, a final flicker of doubt, but it quickly passed as he saw the same uncertainty mirrored in her eyes as they reopened for a moment. She was nervous, too. They both were.

Finally, with a soft exhale, Wolffe closed the distance, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It wasn’t a kiss born of desperation or need. It was simply a kiss, quiet and careful, a tender connection shared between two people who had no idea what tomorrow would bring but knew that this—this moment—was worth every ounce of vulnerability it took to get here.

The kiss was soft, almost shy, as if they were both learning what it meant to be this close, this open. Wolffe felt the warmth of her lips against his, the sweet pressure of her mouth, and in that small, simple exchange, something inside him shifted. The nervousness faded, replaced by a quiet sense of peace, a feeling that maybe they were both exactly where they needed to be.

When they finally pulled apart, it was just as slow and tender, neither of them in a rush. Wolffe’s forehead rested gently against hers, their breaths mingling as they shared a quiet moment, letting the world around them come back into focus. His nose nudged hers playfully as he looked down.

Perdita smiled, a shy, soft curve of her lips that made Wolffe’s heartbeat a little faster, though he didn’t quite understand why. There was no pressure, no expectations. Just two people who had stepped into uncharted territory together, uncertain but trusting.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she whispered, her voice a little breathless, her eyes still closed as she kept the tender closeness between them.

Wolffe chuckled softly, his thumb gently tracing the line of her jaw. It was almost endearing that she felt the need to confirm there was nothing off putting about the experience on his end. “No,” he agreed, his voice low, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It wasn’t bad at all.”

Wolffe’s heart was still racing, but it felt different now—lighter, softer. The tension that had been there, coiled tight in his chest, had unwound, leaving him with a warmth he couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so... present. So attuned to the moment. The world around them felt distant now, the noise of their lives faded into nothingness as they stood there, tangled in the quiet intimacy they had just shared.

Her lips parted just slightly, and Wolffe couldn’t resist brushing his thumb over them, as if imprinting the feeling of them on his skin, wanting to hold onto that tender connection. He didn’t speak immediately, just drank in the quiet beauty of her face, the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell softly around her face. It was all so new, so uncharted, but it was also so undeniable.

“I didn’t expect this,” Wolffe finally murmured, his voice low and hushed, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate moment. “I never thought...”

Perdita’s fingers gently cupped his face, bringing him back to her. Her touch was a balm, soothing him even more. “Neither did I,” she whispered, her voice soft, but her eyes were full of that same tenderness. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Wolffe let out a quiet laugh, the sound rich with relief, and maybe even a little wonder. “Me too.” His thumb traced the curve of her cheek again, slower this time, as if he was savoring every inch of her, committing the sensation to memory. Meanwhile he could feel the slight friction caused by her fingernails carding through his short facial hair.

The space between them had grown warmer, their bodies subconsciously inching closer. Wolffe’s heart, still beating a little faster than normal, was now attuned to the way her breath had slowed, in sync with his. There was no rush. No urgency. Just the rhythm of two people learning the quiet, tender dance of being close.

Perdita’s eyes lingered on Wolffe’s face, drawn to the intensity in his gaze, the way his expression softened with each passing moment. Her fingers traced the lines of his jaw, feeling the strength there, the firmness that had always been a part of him. There was a calmness in his presence that she had never fully noticed before—how steady he was, how rooted. She could see the soldier in him, the leader, the man who had faced countless battles, but in this moment, he was something else entirely.

His features were a captivating blend of rugged charm, etched with the marks of a life lived in battle. One eye, a striking bionic replacement, stood in stark contrast to the warmth of his natural one. A scar traced along his face, a silent testament to his bravery, while the slight crookedness of his nose hinted at an injury that had never fully healed. Yet, it was the softness of his lips and the flush of his skin that reminded her that these traces of struggle were merely fragments of the beautiful man he had always been. Perdita couldn’t ignore the way she’d frequently acknowledged it, even back then. But time had been wonderful to him, and the lack of regulation haircuts and their nomad lifestyle made him seem so much more handsome than she could’ve imagined.

Her breath caught as she slowly moved closer, her body instinctively seeking more of him. She rose onto the balls of her feet, but still, the difference in their height struck her. She had always known he was taller, but now, in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the disparity seemed more pronounced. Even on her toes, she was still a few inches below his chin, her forehead grazing the solid wall of his chest.

It was strange, how she had never realized just how much he towered over her until now. She could feel the heat of his body radiating, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his presence seemed to fill the space around them. The realization was both grounding and disorienting. He was a soldier, a protector, a force of nature. And here she was, the Jedi, with lithe build.

Perdita’s breath was shallow, but she didn’t shy away from the distance. She moved even closer, leaning up just a little further to close the space between them. Her hand rested gently on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt. She was drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain, needing to bridge the physical gap between them, needing to feel more of him, to share more of herself with him.

Wolffe shifted slightly, moving down a fraction, bending just enough to meet her halfway, though it was a delicate maneuver, given their difference in height. He could feel the warmth of her hand on his chest, and it made something inside him soften, some instinct pulling him to protect, to care for her, even in this quiet moment. He wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but he knew one thing—he didn’t want to pull away.

With a quiet exhale, Wolffe placed his hand on her back, gently drawing her closer. She fit against him in a way that seemed natural, her small form nestled against the width of his chest. He could feel her warmth, the delicate way she leaned into him, and despite everything—despite the uncertainty and the weight of his role—there was a calmness in the way they stood together.

"You're so small Princess," he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. 

Perdita smiled faintly, her face tilting slightly up to meet his eyes. "I’m not sure that matters, Wolffe," she whispered, her fingers curling into his shirt as if to anchor herself to the moment. 

Wolffe couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat at the playful energy between them, the way she kept inching closer, her presence so disarming. He had never quite expected this—this feeling, this subtle warmth that kept growing every time they were near each other. It was new, unfamiliar, but so very... right.

"You’re small but still dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

She smirked, her lips just inches from his. "Only when I want to be."

Wolffe’s pulse quickened, the playful tension between them growing palpable. "Well," he said, his lips curling into a grin, "I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you, then. Wouldn’t want you causing any trouble." He leaned in just slightly, his lips brushing against the top of her head, lingering there a moment longer than necessary.

Perdita smiled softly at the gesture, her breath warm against his chest as she tilted her head to look up at him again. "I might keep causing trouble if you keep looking at me like that when I do," she whispered, her voice low and full of meaning.

Wolffe felt a shiver run through him at her words, his heart thundering in his chest. He was so close to crossing the line between playful banter and something deeper, but he didn’t want to pull back. Instead, he pressed a little closer, his hand moving from her back to gently tilt her chin up. "And how exactly am I looking at you?" he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of amusement and something else—something far more intense.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, lips just a hair’s breadth from his. "Like you might kiss me."

The words hung in the air between them, the playful edge gone now, replaced with something softer, warmer. Wolffe’s heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, he leaned in just enough to brush his lips against hers, a soft, slow press. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to send a jolt of heat through his body, enough to make him wish the moment would never end.

When they finally pulled apart, there was a brief but palpable silence between them, the air thick with the shared warmth of their closeness. Their breaths were just a little quicker, as if the lingering connection still had its hold on them, a soft pulse that refused to fade. Wolffe’s hand remained at the back of her neck, tender and steady, grounding both of them in the moment they’d just shared. His smile, slow and soft, tugged at the corners of his lips. There was something in his eyes—a quiet knowing, as though he’d found a piece of truth in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.

"I guess I might have been looking at you like that," he murmured, his voice lower, hushed by the weight of the moment. It was more than an admission—it was a quiet promise, a subtle invitation, as if he were daring the silence to speak more than words ever could.

Perdita’s eyes sparkled, and she let out a breathless laugh that sent a ripple of warmth through him. She didn’t look away from him, her gaze steady and full of a knowing playfulness. “I had a feeling,” she replied, her voice soft but tinged with the same quiet confidence that matched the depth of the moment.

Wolffe’s smile deepened, an edge of teasing in his voice as he hummed with amusement. "Can’t blame me," he said with a smirk, his thumb gently brushing the edge of her jaw, as if he was still tracing the contours of their shared connection.

Perdita raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful grin. "Oh yeah? And why’s that?" she asked, a mischievous note lacing her words.

Wolffe tilted his head slightly, as if considering her question. "Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to kiss you," he said, his voice steady, though there was something in it that was a little more raw, more honest than he'd intended.

Perdita's eyes widened slightly, the air between them thick with a tension that neither of them had fully realized was building. She felt a flutter in her chest, half-surprised by his bluntness, half-thrilled by how easily he was able to read her in return. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face, and she took a small step closer, letting the warmth between them swell again.

“Well,” she said softly, her voice teasing but with an undercurrent of something much softer, “I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”

Wolffe chuckled, the sound warm and rich, tinged with both relief and a touch of nervousness, as though they were both teetering on the edge of something much bigger than either of them had expected. The air between them hummed with a quiet tension, a mixture of lighthearted teasing and an undeniable pull that neither of them could ignore.

"Well, if that’s the case," he said, his voice deepening just a little, taking on a hint of seriousness, though his lips still quirked with the faintest smile, "I guess I’d better be careful how I look at you next time."

Perdita raised an eyebrow, her gaze playful but still soft, like she was savoring the moment. "Next time?" she asked, her voice teasing, yet with an underlying warmth that made Wolffe’s chest tighten just slightly. "When might that be?"

Wolffe’s eyes sparkled with the challenge, the desire for more hanging in the air between them. He took a small step closer, his presence surrounding her, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade. "Hm," he mused, a mock-serious glint in his eyes. "Now?"

Perdita tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. She took in a breath, her heart racing just a little faster now, the quiet confidence she wore in that moment a contrast to the vulnerability they had both shared earlier. "Right now?" she asked softly, her fingers brushing against the front of his shirt again, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

Wolffe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he simply stared at her, as if taking in everything—the way her lips parted just slightly, the gentle curve of her neck, the warmth in her eyes that mirrored his own. The world around them, the expectations, the pressure—it all seemed distant. All that mattered was the quiet pull between them, the unspoken understanding that what they shared here, in this moment, was something worth exploring.

After what felt like a long pause, Wolffe spoke again, his voice softer now, a hint of tenderness coloring his words. "Yeah, right now,"

Tag List: @leenathegreengirl @asgre @badbatch-bitch @cw80831 @heidnspeak

[leenathegreengirl]

Life Day Event 2024 Details

So happy and excited to announce the schedule and details of the Life Day Celebration Event! Details below the cut!

Dec 16 - Phee & Kahrin (Meet Kahrin)

Dec 17 - Jesse, Lilly, & JJ (Meet Lilly / JJ)

Dec 18 - Hunter, Nez, Omega & Special guest! (Meet Nez)

Dec 19 - Echo & Aiko (Meet Aiko)

Dec 20 - Rex & Mae (Meet Mae)

Dec 21 - Crosshair & Kayden (Meet Kayden)

Dec 22 - Hardcase

Dec 23 - Wrecker & Chori ft. Muffin (Meet Chori)

Dec 24 - Tech & Leena (Meet me!)

Dec 25 - LIFE DAY! - Link includes a PDF storybook compilations of all previous days!

(Special thank you to @legacygirlingreen for all her help with this event, all the beautiful stories, and design layouts and concepts! Thank you for making this all possible! 💚💚💚)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

[jordosprout]

Look at me catching up on tags!

1. Last song: (don't worry it immediately went into my crosshair playlist)

2. Favorite colors: It used to be yellow, blue, and pink. But currently it's yellow, turquoise, aquamarine, and orange

3. Last book: The Summer Hikaru Died 1-3 by Mokumokuren, Why Sharks Matter by Shiffman, and too many black hole audiobooks

4. Last Movie: Finally watched the first John Wick movie

5. Last Show: Rewatching bad batch, last finished show is Arcane, and current running is Apothecary Diaries and Dan Da Dan

6. Sweet/Spicy/Sweet: Genuinely the hardest question on here. I think savory? But I love spicy foods and I have a massive sweet tooth.

7. Relationship: Almost at 3 years with my first long term partner!!

8. Last thing I looked up on the Holonet: Fear of failure. Im fine I just looked it up to understand how to cope with that fear (for x reader comfort purposes)

9. Current obsession: Marine biology and black holes! Still stuck on Arcane. And of course TBB and my Self-Insert oc >:] As well as The summer hikaru died and clone wars. Been waiting for my partner to be up to continuing our watch thru of Star Wars (it's my first time going through it). I have, for a lack of better words, been blue balled.

10. Looking forward to: Getting a different job and getting my license :'] as well as the Pabu Days Zine!!!!!

NPTs: @stars-n-spice @general-ida-raven @legacygirlingreen

10 people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @sadundefinedbread, my beloved ❤️

Last song: Monitoring by Deco*27 feat. Hatsune Miku

Favorite color: turquoise

Last book: last book I finished was 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King; last one I read (and am currently reading) is The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Last movie: A Muppet's Christmas Carol

Last show: Dexter

Sweet/spicy/savoury: I like all of them, but sweet reigns supreme

Relationship status: Married in the same way a nun is (aka I'm too emotionally devoted to a character - or, in my case, several - to have an IRL partner lol)

Last thing I googled: if color blind was one word or two. Fan fact: "colorblind" is an American-ism that started gaining popularity in the 1990s

Current obsession: Besides the omnipresence of Supernatural, Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom.

Looking forward to: finishing and posting a couple of fics :3

Tagging: @pavlovianfuckery @sastielbeltscene @sammywinchesterslover @flannel-wrapped-nightmare @boykingscourt @slutsons-blog @deancaslover @castiellesbian @autisticandroids @sastielbeltscene

[leenathegreengirl]

CrossHAIR Decisions…a Flashback

(Here are parts one and two!)

(Writing and layout credit does to the special & wonderful @legacygirlingreen!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @justanotherdikutsimp

[leenathegreengirl]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

💙Tag List💙

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @aknightreaderr

(Thank you to @legacygirlingreen for inspiring this design/idea!)

[leenathegreengirl]

Variation is the Spice of Life! (A Flashback)

😀💚💕

(Thank you to @legacygirlingreen for writing this comic and creating the layout! Also, Mae is her fabulous OC!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @justanotherdikutsimp

[leenathegreengirl]

Tunes-Giving Event: Crosshair/Kay (NOV 24)

It’s difficult to prioritize yourself when your entire life has always been shared with someone else. For both Crosshair and Kayden, learning to break free from the shadows of the past and allow their true selves to emerge isn’t an easy task. Crosshair struggles to heal from his trauma, while Kayden has always lived in the background, overshadowed by her twin sister. But as they each navigate the changing dynamics brought on by their siblings' blossoming romance, they begin to discover something unique and meaningful in the friendship they’re building. 

This collection of songs captures the hope, fear, uncertainty, and deep connection between Crosshair and Kayden. With a mix of energetic tracks for their brighter moments and tender ballads for their quieter times, these songs reveal how both characters shine in their own way—finding strength, solace, and a sense of belonging in each other’s company.

The experience of survival is the key

To the gravity of love

Looking at you, holding my breath

For once in my life, I'm scared to death

I'm taking a chance, letting you inside

the stars may be fallin'

I'm still coming for you

I love this feeling

But I hate this part

I wanted this to work so much

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

It all revolves around you

Meet Kayden! 

EVENT MASTERLIST

(Special thank you my dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible! She is responsive for all the writing, design layout, post editing & greatly assisted in song selections!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate

[leenathegreengirl]

Meet Sylvie 🥰💙💕

(Thank you to my dear friend & creative partner @legacygirlingreen for writing the bio for me and making the beautiful design layout!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @justanotherdikutsimp @aknightreaderr