Commander Wolffe - Tumblr Posts

Designed By: @alperenlive - (alper çağlar)

I'll join you

the hill I will die on is that the most tragic story in star wars is the clones' story

Guess everyone right and you get a cookie

you know what I needed today? Tookaverse shenanigans

Delta Squad burrito! Ft Advisor!

Wolffe is just a little grumpy

Cody with 17!

Party alt version❤️

Thorn loves trying new foods, please let him in

More Tookaverse!

CodyWan Comic

Ahsoka + 501 and Obi Wan + 212

Hera + Howzer

Tookaverse Shenanigans pt1

Rex found Tup ft Cody

NAGAAAA AAAUUUUUUU🐍

Hi I’m so sorry I have been dead- but the brain worms really hit me with this one-

Wolffe is a white banded wolf snake (heh bc of course)

very potentially more to come

More Shenanigans but they invited Wolffe

*Fives and Echo are fighting* Rex, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?! *Fives and Echo start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

Fives, T-posing in the doorway: Greetings, Rex. Rex, not looking up from his coffee: Good morning, problem child.

Obi-Wan: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game... Anakin, nodding: Knife Monopoly. Obi-Wan: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Rex: Apologize to Cody! Wolffe: Fine! Wolffe: Unfuck you, or whatever!

Rex: *trying to get five seconds of sleep* Ahsoka, poking Rex’s arm: Rex. Rex. Rex. Rex! Rex: WHAT? Ahsoka: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Rex: What happened?! Ahsoka: Do you want the long version or the short version? Rex: Sh-short?? Ahsoka: Shit's fucked. Rex: Okay, long. Ahsoka: Shit's very fucked.

Obi-Wan, to Cody: You wanna fight? All right, let’s take this outside. The stars are so bright tonight and the moon looks so nice. Here, hold my hand—

Obi-Wan: How many children do you have? Rex: Biologically, legally, or emotionally? Because there is a difference.

Wolffe: I learned a valuable lesson from this. Rex: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lesson you actually should’ve taken away… Wolffe: DEATH ISN’T REAL AND I AM BASICALLY GOD!

Cody: Hey, Rex! Did you know you're my BFFLWYLION? Rex: What the hell is that supposed to mean? Cody: Best Friend For Life Whether You Like It Or Not. Rex: Rex: That’s one way to say it, I guess…

Even more shenanigans with Wolffe

Ahsoka: Where's Echo? Obi-Wan: Don't worry, I'll find them. Obi-Wan, shouting: Rex sucks! Echo, distantly: Captain Rex is the best person ever! Fuck you! Obi-Wan: Found them.

Obi-Wan, looking at their watch: It has been 2 hours and sixteen minutes since I’ve been insulted. Obi-Wan: It’s been about 5 seconds since I’ve been assaulted, but let’s not talk about that.

Echo: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. Fives: You and me! Echo: *tearing up* Ok.

Ahsoka: This can’t get any worse. Can it? Fives: Sure it can - just give me a minute.

Ahsoka, pointing to the wall: What color is this? Echo: Gray. Fives: Grey. Ahsoka, turning to Anakin: Now tell them what color you think it is. Anakin: Dark white.

Wolffe: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than fuck.

Computer: Please enter a password. Anakin: *types in Rex* Computer: Your password is too weak. Anakin: How fucking DARE YOU-

Anakin: What is the one thing I told you not to do? Fives: Burn the house down. Anakin: And what did you do? Fives: I made dinner. Anakin: Fives: Anakin: Fives: And burnt the house down.

Cody: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year. Wolffe: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues? Rex: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Echo: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over a year and presumed dead by everyone. Also most of my friends are dead or missing.

Where do I sign to be part of the Wolfpack?

Pride Month Aspec Headcanons Day 7

Commander Wolffe - The Clone Wars (2008) - Aroace

I once told a friend a stripped of Star Wars, watered down version of an au I had with Wolffe and was explaining about him losing his eye. Her reaction was "and then he gets a girlfriend and becomes happy and everything is alright!"

Let me tell you. My eyes about bugged out of my head. I was like, "Uhhh no. Because happiness does not have to equate to having a significant other. He's doing just fine recovering with the help of his dad and his brothers, thank you very much"

Anyway, this man is very aroace to me. Rolls eyes hard whenever the Wolfpack share their chaotic allo stories with him

Commander "serve cunt or die" wolffe versus Captain "costco fashion isnt lame why do you keep saying that" Rex

10 Headcannons About Commander Wolffe

In his heart, Wolffe is an academic. He loves to learn. His special expertise is myths and legends from around the galaxy and how they relate to the culture they belong to.

This started way back on Kamino. Offhandedly, one of Mandalorian trainers mentioned a myth about red skies predicting future bloodshed. They explained that on Mandalore, red skies at dawn were a warning sign severe storms. Wolffe was hooked from that moment and wanted to find the truth in every myth.

Wolffe's is the second youngest in his batch. It goes Fox, Ponds, Guarddog, Wolffe, and Cody. Guarddog never made it off Kamino.

Wolffe's favorite myth is the Legend of Glory, a highly controversial Mandalorian myth about a fox, a wolf, and a guard dog who all had their own ideas of what glory means. He used to tell his batch it all the time in the quiet of nights.

Wolffe stopped telling the Legend of Glory after Guarddog dies.

Cody and Wolffe are close but they fight a lot. Fox and Ponds had to physically pull them apart when they were young and imprison them with cuddles in order to keep them out of trouble.

Plo's first gift to Wolffe was an old book of Kel Dor myths left on his pillow. Wolffe copied the stories down then put the book back in Plo's possession as he did not feel he was the safest choice for such an artifact.

Wolffe's feelings about Plo are hard to capture in words for it is deep and ancient. Every legend about an unassuming boy who meets a kindly old man to become a hero reflects but not captures what they have.

Wolffe's cybernetic eye dies not always work and sticks occasionally. Plo has put more credits into it than the republic has.

In a kinder universe, Wolffe would have gone to university. He would have created a museum displaying retired clone armor and telling their history. He would have made sure that his history would be remembered and not . If he only had lived in a kinder universe.

its rex fox cody and wolffe. you have to see what i see

Wolffe x f!Model!Reader: Thank You

[A/N]: Another chapter taken from a book of oneshots I used to have on Quotev and Tumblr - I think I deleted it two years ago? Whew, time flies. So yeah, this is an old work. If you read my Captain Rex oneshot Droid-Crusher, I wrote this oneshot not long after. I think I wrote this oneshot nearly four years ago, which is crazy, because I feel like my writing has changed a lot since then. I'm really posting this for old time's sake, with a few edits so I don't lose my mind (lol!). This goes out to all you Wolffe girlies (gn) (I'm one of them). Hope you guys like it!

Summary: You are a talented supermodel quickly climbing the ranks of Coruscant's fashion industry—but your life wasn't always the runway or the studio. With your newfound influence, you found a charity to benefit the GAR and its relief efforts. One thing leads to another, and you end up meeting a man you'd never expected to see again...

Warnings: None

read it here on ao3!

"Hey, Boost! Check this out." Sinker beckoned for Boost, who was cleaning out the barrel of his rifle, to glance over at his holopad.

"A fundraiser for the GAR?" Boost muttered, skimming through the article's contents. "I wonder who could be backing this." 

"The Republic doesn't have an endless source of money, y'know." Sinker mused. "But a lot of rich senators and whatnot want to donate to the cause." The two troopers continued reading through the holonet article. 

"Oh, so a supermodel wants to donate to the Grand Army? Not something you see every day." Boost remarked. 

"Y/N L/N, too! Coruscant's top model!" Sinker exclaimed. “She went viral a few months ago and immediately signed to one of the biggest modeling firms on the planet. There’s a huge market for high fashion models in all the super-rich Core Worlds, so she must be raking in loads of credits.”

“How do you know that, Sinker?” Boost asked with narrowed eyes. “Have you been spending your downtime studying the Coruscanti fashion industry?”

“N-no! When I’m bored and we’re in hyperspace, I like to read those trashy celebrity magazines on the Holonet. Y/N’s a sensation, I hear.”

"For what reason would she want to start a fundraiser?" Boost mused. Wolffe, who was examining a map on the other side of the wardroom table, nearly spit out his caf when one of Y/N's photos turned up on Sinker's holopad. He recognized the determined, fiery look in her eyes all too well.

The scent of burning flesh and smoking debris filled the air over Y/N's home planet. Sirens wailed, but the anguished citizens wailed louder. Nothing could possibly be worse for the war-torn planet—but to Commander Wolffe and the 104th, it was another day conducting search-and-rescues and relief missions.

Wolffe clambered over fallen debris, signaling for the Wolfpack to disperse in search of survivors in the burning city. The Separatists had spared no one from their wrath—the entire capital had been torched. 

A loud creaking sound grated at Wolffe's ears, alerting him of a failing structure. Just in time, he saw the already-scorched building sagging under the weight of decimated masonry and scaffolding, a woman trying to climb down the tall structure. She had reached the crumbling and listing balcony with a makeshift rope made out of bedding when more wreckage rained from above, trapping her against the harsh, exposed concrete of the balcony floor. Wolffe looked up and met the (E/C) eyes of the woman, whose gaze burned with unprecedented determination and willpower. Arm outstretched to the clone commander, she made one last attempt to free herself of the wreckage. Wolffe, having done this a million times before, ignited his jetpack and rushed to her side. 

Yes, she was beautiful—she was absolutely dazzling. However, something was different this time around. It was her will to live, Wolffe thought, that struck him as odd. Each and every other survivor he had seen before appeared to either have had the Living Force leached right out of them, eyes empty and dim—or were gripped with intense fear and shock. Wolffe finally heaved off the last few planks of wood off of the woman's ash-covered form, returning her safely to the ground. Finally stumbling onto solid ground, the woman gripped his gloved hands tightly and securely, staring straight into his darkened visor. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

During the days following up to the fundraiser, Wolffe found it difficult to get your likeness off of his mind. It seemed as if every daily briefing that pinged onto his datapad contained a picture of you, striding confidently down a catwalk with the same look in your eyes while you stared straight at the camera with an air of professionalism and talent. Your metamorphosis stunned Wolffe—he'd never learned the name of the woman he had saved from the burning wreckage the year before, but there was no doubt that she was the model he saw so often in the fashion and beauty advertisements flashing across Coruscant's biggest billboards that he'd never bothered to look at. Your likeness haunted him day and night, yet it was what pushed him to work harder to support the 104th and General Plo Koon. 

On the day that you arrived at the base, you were met by the many squadrons and battalions that were reporting on Coruscant. Cameras flashed from all angles, some from the many gossip columns on the Holonet, others from more prominent planetary news sources. You greeted them with a smile that had taken you weeks to perfect, and the clones stood at attention without fail. Jedi Generals Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Plo Koon welcomed you courteously.

"Y/N L/N. To the military base, we welcome you." Yoda began with a bow. 

"No need to bow to me, Master. I am forever grateful for the opportunity to raise money for the Republic." You replied with a bow of your own. "If anything, I should be bowing to you."

"Is that really her?" Sinker hissed under his breath as he stood at attention with the rest of the 104th. "She's prettier than she looks in the photos." You were dressed casually, but you could have worn a garbage bag and still exuded the effortlessly elegant look of an off-duty model.

"Shut up, Sinker. She'll notice you!" Comet whispered back, subtly elbowing Sinker. Wolffe tried not to pay attention to the clone sergeant's shenanigans, eyes fixed on Y/N.

"Why don't we discuss the details and potential benefactors inside? I have a few ideas." General Kenobi offered, leading you inside. "At ease, troopers." The battalions, in neat rows by rank and seniority, dispersed and returned to their tasks. You were led through a hangar, where you admired LAATs with an appreciative eye, through busy corridors, and finally, to a meeting room of sorts where some holographic images glowed blue over a conference table. 

"After you, Miss L/N." General Koon began, making way for you to stand at the head of the table. "We have much to discuss." Thanking the Jedi Master, you immediately began examining the holos. 

"Senator Amidala of Naboo has expressed interest in your project," General Skywalker began from the other side of the table. "She wants to know more about the high-caliber photo-ops and how you will run your campaign."

"Is that so?" You replied, remaining deep in thought. "I have also received word that Senators Mon Mothma and Aang are also willing to contribute, along with various comically shallow and snooty socialites who have money to support the cause." You joked, noticing General Skywalker suppressing laughter.

"Strengthen public relations, we must." Yoda suggested. "With this program, discrimination of clones, we should stop." You nodded in agreement. 

"That's why I'm here, Master Yoda. This is exactly what I came here to do." You pulled up a holo of some names and locations. "I've been talking this over with my agency and manager. They're willing to let me see this project through, so I've scheduled some times and dates for things like charity events and relief missions."

"Oh, so you want to conduct relief missions as well?" General Kenobi inquired. You nodded in confirmation.

"That's right. I...have a history with mercy missions." You answered with an uncomfortable pause. "In my opinion, they’re just as important as military campaigns, and I hope the general public believes so as well." 

"Very well, Miss L/N. Thankful for your support, we are." Master Yoda and the other Jedi nodded, seeming to have come to a consensus on the campaign's goals. One by one they left, leaving you to admire and explore the base. You started with the hangar, where you found Y-wings, Aethersprites, and Torrent starfighters being serviced. Several clones began whispering amongst themselves upon your entrance while others waved enthusiastically. 

"Miss L/N! What brings you to the hangar today?" A pilot whose helmet was decorated with blue-gray curlicues appeared in front of you, saluting. 

"I'm just having a look around. I'll be spending a lot of time on base during these next few months." You replied with a gracious smile. Just entering the hangar with the rest of the Wolfpack, Wolffe noticed how friendly but professional you were off of the runway and out of earshot of the nosy Coruscanti press. 

"Warthog, how are we doin' on that fighter—!" Wolffe stopped dead in his tracks. It was you. He noticed the change in demeanor that suddenly overcame you upon noticing him. "You..."

The project was blessed with massive success from the start—many civilians began to show their support for the Republic and the clones that gave their lives to defend it. You assisted mission after mission, working not just as the GAR’s covergirl but as the grunt lugging crates, helping the clones with menial but necessary tasks. 

While your fame grew as a charitable influencer and supermodel, you began to spend more time with Wolffe. It was certainly a simple pleasure to sit shoulder to shoulder with the clone troopers of the Wolfpack not as their boss, but as their equal—even more so that you were able to stay by their jaded commander who'd coincidentally saved your life not so long ago—and captured your heart in the process.

The 104th and company milled about the camps, ushering on gonk droids and heaving crates of bacta and provisions everywhere. Watching on from the top of a grassy hill, Y/N and Wolffe took a break from the constant heavy lifting of supplies from supply ships to the war refugees they had come to aid. As a part of Y/N's campaign to promote and benefit the GAR's relief efforts, she would be attending every mercy mission they would be conducting for the next few months as the campaign continued. There were cam droids everywhere to document the effort, broadcasting your likeness as you worked with the clones and Jedi wherever you were called.

The people wanted someone real and candid, not just another out-of-touch celebrity. You hypothesized that your approach to your campaign had made you popular in the media because of how real it felt. 

The hovercams were on you nearly every waking hour of the day. Sometimes you spoke with them, like the popular vloggers on the Holonet. But this time, you were taking a break from all the attention.

"The view is pretty from up here." You began. The breeze tousled your hair, and the sky on this particular planet was especially beautiful at dusk. 

"Yeah, except for all of the soot and debris." Wolffe replied, kicking a stray droid arm down the hill. You stole a look at his pensive face, admiring the scar over his cybernetic eye as a long, stretched-out silence overcame the two of you. "You knew, didn't you? About the fires, and the balcony." Wolffe blurted out. Seeing your expression of surprise, he realized the gravity of what he had said. To his surprise, your eyes softened, reminiscing back to the moment that had changed your life. 

"Yes, I remember." You revealed your left wrist to him. A thick, flesh-colored scar ran along the side of your hand. "I got cut pretty badly by a piece of glass that night." Passing his gloved thumb over the scar, Wolffe pressed a kiss to your hand, lips brushing against the long scar. 

"The first time I met you." Wolffe whispered with a small smile. "How could I have forgotten?" You tried to hide your blush and the tingling sensation of Wolffe's lips against your skin, but your expression betrayed you. 

"Wolffe, I..." The feeling of his arms carrying you to safety, strong and reliable, had been seared into your memory. You'd entertained the thought of meeting your hero and savior again one day, even after the Rodian talent scout had found you working as an underpaid waitress on Coruscant—it was because of Wolffe that you were able to become who you are. He was the one who gave you a second chance at life. "...had you not been there, I would have burned in that apartment on some godforsaken planet with no escape."

"Y/N, I'll stay by your side forever if I have to…." Wolffe cupped your face in his gloved hands, drinking in the features that had been preserved so well in his mind. “...only if you would have me.” 

“Of course, Commander…” You leaned in for a deep, long kiss, no longer wanting to run from all of the pent-up weeks of pining that threatened to destroy all of your self control.

"Thank you," you murmured. "Thank you."

What a trip down memory lane! Believe it or not, there are a lot more oneshots I deleted that I have yet to republish. I can't believe I had the foresight to save them - I guess I didn't have the heart to delete over a year's worth of writing. Until next time! x

Let me know if you want to be part of my general or Star Wars taglist!

Wolffe x f!Officer!Reader: One and Only

[A/N]: Bullying sucks, and for some reason, a lot of anti-bullying campaigns seem to make bullies nastier. I can't say if those campaigns succeeded, though, because I feel like the term 'bully' itself has been beaten to death. This oneshot is an edited, old work that I had deleted a few years ago. My younger self wrote this hoping for a cathartic escape from my past experiences with bullies. If it's a little overdone, that's why - but I hope some of you know what it was like, too. I hope you got the support you needed during those times, but if you didn't, I genuinely hope you will, sooner better than later.

Summary: Y/N, a naval officer spending most rotations on a Venator-class star destroyer, has loved and cherished Commander Wolffe as a partner for months now. They've always managed to stay in touch and pretty much nothing could break their bond—that is, other than the scathing comments of the critical and envious.

Warnings: Bullying and self-esteem issues.

read it here on ao3

"Ugh! How did Y/N ever get promoted to naval officer? She’s such a bitch ," A voice hissed from beyond the steel corridor of the Venator-class star destroyer, namely, the Reverence.

"It's unbelievable! And they say she's Commander Wolffe's girlfriend." Another voice added. 

From the far end of the hallway, you sighed, keeping your eyes glued to your datapad. The snide comments of gossipy subordinates and snarky superior officers were starting to eat away at what little confidence you held onto. The fact that they'd even mentioned Wolffe twisted their dagger-like insults into the very flesh of your psyche. 

Taking a sharp left into the control room, you wished that their eyes could refrain from boring straight into your back and following your bowed head past the glowing table to where the Admiral stood. 

"Admiral." He nodded in acknowledgement of your entrance.

"L/N. Have you received word from General Koon about our strategy for the offense?"

"I just received the transmission, sir. I came to inform you that he has approved our strategy and is willing to put it to the test." You answered, handing him your datapad.

"Thank you, officer. You may go now." You nodded and strode right out of the room and right into a gaggle of medbay nurses—civilians from a volunteer corp, terribly patronizing and unbelievably annoying—who immediately scattered, tittering with laughter. 

"Maker, I’m so glad I don’t have to wear the Navy uniform. Y/N L/N takes the olive out of olive-drab." One of the medbay nurses remarked as the group disappeared down the corridor, your full name rolling off of her tongue harshly, each syllable pronounced in repulsive mockery. You instinctively clutched your datapad, focusing on the deep black of space from outside the Reverence. Somewhere out there, Wolffe is waiting for me, you thought to yourself. Let's hope he hasn't forgotten about me.

Somewhere, several systems away, Commander Wolffe ducked into a canvas tent. The sound of LAATs soaring overhead, the revving of speeder bikes, and overall commotion filled his ears—but he paid no attention to the din as he quickly punched a code into his holoprojector. After a few minutes of dialing, a familiar blue hologram finally appeared in the palm of his hand.

“Wolffe?" Your voice, although crackling with signal static, was music to Wolffe's ears.

"Y/N!" He smiled for the first time in days, the smile reaching his eyes that had become shadowed from many sleepless nights. "How’s work on the Reverence?" You shook your head.

"Well, it's been a lot like the usual." You answered, sighing. You didn’t feel like lying to Wolffe anymore—’good’ just didn’t sum up your experience at all. "I don't think a whole lot of people like me on this ship." Wolffe's smile immediately disappeared. 

"What makes you think that?" 

"It's just...I always hear this mechanic or that nurse talking behind my back. It's like they don't bother to hide it anymore." You rambled. "I hate it. I wish they'd issued me a bucket like yours to wear so I wouldn't have to show my face in front of a bunch of people who absolutely detest my ugly face!" You clenched your fists, making wrinkles in your olive-drab uniform pants.. Watching you hold back tears, Wolffe solemnly wished that he could be physically present to comfort you and hold you in his arms. 

"Y/N..." He averted his eyes, the cogs turning in his head. "I wish I could just tell all of those di'kuts to stop—"

"Wolffe, you don't have to." You interrupted him, expression caught between twisted despair and an apologetic smile. "I'm used to it, but all of this bantha shit gets to me sometimes." Wolffe chuckled quietly, sending butterflies fluttering into your stomach.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all of this, Y/N. I promise we'll be together soon." His eyes were sincere, despite his cybernetic eye. As he spoke, Sinker poked his head into the canvas tent. 

"Commander? We're still waiting on bacta. Do you really think we should consider buying bacta from the locals?" The clone inquired, jerking his thumb to where the medical tent was pitched.

"They know that we can't tell the difference between real bacta and watery jelly..." Wolffe grumbled. "Give me a moment." Sinker ducked back out of the tent, and Wolffe returned to his call. 

"What was that about?" You inquired, cocking your head in questioning. 

"Sorry Y/N, Sinker just popped in with a question." Wolffe paused, thinking quickly. "Say, Y/N. We're running out of bacta at the camps, but the locals cultivate and sell it. I don't know if we should buy it, 'cause we don't know if it's legitimate or not, and if it's actually medical grade." You pondered for a moment, searching your memory for whatever had been scribbled into the reg books of years past about Wolffe's particular dilemma.

"Hmm...what you can do is check samples of the bacta they sell to make sure it's legit. Real bacta has a thin but slimy consistency, like that of sticky porridge rations, you know what I mean? Make sure it isn't watered down.” You stated. “Oh, and the preferred kind of bacta that we typically use is mostly clear or tinged blue from the added drugs. It should also have a certain smell, kind of pungent because of the bacteria cultures in it but also kind of like the chemical additives it contains." 

Wolffe listened intently as you listed the specifications of medical-grade bacta. He enjoyed hearing you talk, especially about something you were well-versed in or passionate about—he could see the admiration glimmering in your eyes, and what confidence you had finally began to show itself. You could read him a whole reg book and he’d be riveted. 

"So, as long as it meets the requirements for standard bacta, you can buy it. As long as it doesn't cost an LAAT and a few DC-15s, I guess." You concluded with a quiet chuckle.

"That's all I need to know, Y/N. You're a life-saver, I mean it." Wolffe answered with a sincere smile. He clambered off of the munitions crate he had been using as a seat and shifted his gaze to the commotion outside of his little canvas nook. From within the hologram, you saluted. 

"No problem, Wolffe. I'll see you around, I guess." 

"I'll be with you as soon as I find time, Y/N. I promise." Wolffe murmured, eyes softening. 

"I'll be waiting."

Wolffe did end up striking up a bargain with the planet's natives, heading back to the camp with crates full of bacta. He'd memorized your instructions from the beginning to the end—check the viscosity, the color, and the smell. With your trusty advice, Wolffe inspected the bacta carefully with his medics.

       "This is some good bacta." One of the medics whistled, hauling the last of the load into the rather haphazardly set up medical tent. “How much did you say you bought it for, Commander?” Ducking under the coarse fabric, Wolffe nodded in agreement and replied absentmindedly, thoughts wandering to the many misfortunes that could have unfolded had you not been there to guide him.

Many, many parsecs away, you gazed at the stars through thick transparisteel with forlorn eyes. Your many tormenters—one of which included your own conscience—taunted you, but their voices became muffled as you diverted your focus to a different, more uplifting hypothetical, wondering on about the pit of shame you would have been wallowing in had Wolffe not picked you up out of the pile of bantha shit you'd gotten yourself into simply by introducing yourself to a crew that wished you'd never existed. 

Every minute he had to spare, he was attempting to patch through a transmission in hopes of cheering you up. He could have picked anyone to surrender his love to—someone more beautiful, more confident—but he had to pick you.

       "Officer L/N. The Admiral wants you on the bridge." One of the OODs' voices crackled onto the comm on your sleeve, snapping you out of your star-studded reverie. Peeling your eyes away from the glimmering beauty of space, you dashed for the elevator.        

       "Tell him that I'll be there in a few." You called out while slipping into the lift. The door opened to the command bridge, where the admiral stood admiring the vacuum of deep space as you had a couple of floors below.

“L/N." He began. "General Koon has informed me that the offensive against Separatist blockades has succeeded. Moderate to minimum damage and little casualties." Excitement began to bubble from within you. "He states that no other officer could have created an attack plan as brilliant and niche as yours, L/N. He considers you to be one of his best tacticians."

"I am honored to receive such praise from General Koon, Admiral. I only consider this a part of my duty as a strategic officer." 

"You certainly should be, L/N. This assault was one of our campaign's most successful by far. We have scheduled shore leave in two rotations, L/N. Keep up the good work." With a curt nod, you pivoted on your heels and exited the bridge.

Every inch of Wolffe's body was tingling with electric excitement. He couldn't possibly wait a second longer until he could finally hold you in his arms, unlike the incorporeal hologram he'd been speaking to for endless rotations. As the Reverence entered the atmosphere and his ship neared the hangar's tractor beams, he felt as if he could feel your Force signature on the ship, even though he wasn't Force-sensitive. 

The ship slowed to a stop, backing into the hangar bay. Wolffe was quick to jump down the ramp and onto the hangar, much to the surprise of his brothers and commanding officer still on board.

"Are you in a rush, Commander?" Quipped said commanding officer. The Kel Dor Jedi was making his way down the ramp, watching amusedly as Wolffe searched the bustling hangar for what seemed to be nothing in particular. 

"Yeah, where are you going so quickly?" Comet inquired, appearing from within the ship with Sinker and Boost on his heels. "Maybe he's looking for his girlfriend ," he whispered to the two, who cast knowing, side-eyed glances at each other.

You were cloistered away in your office, agonizing over several datapads and a rather large and complicated star map. Anxiously running a hand through your hair, your eyes flitted from one barrage of glowing blue Aurebesh to another. 

"Our campaign, our offensive." You muttered frantically. "I can feel the dark circles under my eyes growing." You pulled up yet another intricate star map, this time depicting a different sector. "Intel says there's a blockade here, here, and here...there, too..." 

Your thought process had already been set into motion as you first inspected the loose estimates of the Separatist numbers. Then, according to that, you instinctively began to formulate the optimal course of action—after months of long nights of studying for exams and even longer nights of strategizing aboard the Reverence and formerly the Triumphant, formulating battle strategies like so had become second nature to you. 

"The last two-pronged 'bident' attack might have been successful upon deployment of the Y-wings, but can we really guarantee the success—or predict the failure—of a Y-wing bombing run or a Torrent fighter attack?" You mused. 

"Oh my Force, she's back at it again..." You heard a fellow naval officer groan from across the office. “Karking hell, shut the kriff up!”

"Back again at what, exactly?" A familiarly gruff voice nearly made you trip over your abandoned desk chair from standing up so quickly. The big-mouthed officer from the other side of the office shut himself up immediately, standing ramrod straight and saluting stiffly. Prying your eyes away from the star maps, you saw the most welcome sight of all—Wolffe, tossing his helmet to the ground with a clatter as lurched over your desk to cup your face in his warm, gloved hands. You shimmied around your closet-like office space to throw your arms around his neck, closing in for a passionate and well-deserved kiss, filled with all of the emotions that had lost themselves in all of the sleepless nights you'd spent apart. 

"You don't know how happy I am to see you again." You breathed, melting in his embrace. Admiring the facial features that had been the object of ridicule by your bullies, Wolffe showed an air of concern at the dark shadows making themselves prominent under your drained-looking eyes. 

"You don't look too good, mesh’la. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Sleep can wait when an entire fleet is at risk." You answered, slipping out of his arms and making your way out of the office. You sat yourself back down at your cluttered desk, putting your head in your hands. Wolffe opted to lean against the doorframe.

"I heard from General Plo that your strategy was a success." Wolffe began. "He thinks very highly of you, Y/N."

"And so I've heard." You droned sardonically, peering at the clone commander from over your hands. "The Admiral told me all about it. How was your ground campaign?"

"Well, your advice worked wonders for our medical team. Your instructions alone saved dozens of good men out there, Y/N." 

"I'm just doing my job, Wolffe. It's all in a day's work. Any other borderline competent naval officer could have told you how to buy bacta." You replied. Wolffe sighed, taking a seat atop your desk and grasping your hands.

"You've gotta be bluffing. I can't think of any other officer who takes control of a situation like you do." 

"Really? I'm not that special."

"Are you kidding me, Y/N? Have you really been listening in on whatever those grunts are saying? Look at you." Wolffe released your hands and reached over to let a hand graze over your cheek. "Look at the wit in those eyes. You're smarter than what you give yourself credit for." Before Wolffe could continue, your comm chirped.

“Officer L/N speaking,”

"Officer?" The Admiral’s voice made you jump. "I wanted you to know that General Koon and I have put in a good word for you on the subject of promotion to a higher rank that is to be determined." 

"Really?" You sat up in your office chair, staring incredulously at your comm.

“Congratulations, L/N. Keep up the good work.”

"Need I say more?" Wolffe cast you a lopsided smile, eyes twinkling. "You're one of a kind, Y/N. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise." He pulled you in for a kiss. 

"One of a kind, huh?" You mumbled into the kiss.

"That's right." Wolffe firmly believed that there wasn't a single person in the galaxy that could compare to you. Your ingenuity, astuteness, and acuity illuminated the black-and-white, never-ending crusade he had been born into.

“You’re my one and only.”

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For some odd reason I got the idea in my head that Monnk and Fox HATE each other.

Like they cannot be in the room together, they will beat each other to death.

No one knows why but since they were cadets they can’t.

No Jedi knows because it’s never been an issue until there’s this big meeting and any Jedi available shows up in person with their commander.

Kit joins and Monnk is meant to be there too but is late. No one sees an issue until Commander Thire shows up, he’s meant to accompany Fox for the meeting.

Thire looks at Kit Fisto and shakily asks, ‘where’s Monnk?’

‘He’s running late. He’s probably showing Commander Fox the way, since he’s never been to the temple before.’

The Jedi laugh and the commanders freeze, ‘uh oh’

then all the commanders run out of the room, shouting for Fox and Monnk.

The Jedi look towards the holo of Ponds and Mace, all direction to Ponds.

“No one knows why but everytime they meet they fight. Not like spar fight but I’m gonna kill you fight. We don’t leave them alone together, ever.”

Well, the commanders return a few minutes later. Fox and Monnk split apart and once settled, motion for the meeting to start.

After all is done, everyone moves to leave and Thire loops an arm around Fox. The man isn’t really putting any weight on his leg and is breathing uneven. Commander Cody goes and helps him out.

The Jedi seem taken aback by this and leave somewhat confused. Commander Doom helps stabilize Monnk and walks with him out. All they hear is a mumured ‘why every time. You have to beat the snot out of each other.’

Kit Fisto looking confused, looks toward the Commanders.

‘They got to each other first, might wanna get Monnk to a medbay.’

Kit nods and quickly goes after Monnk.

Kesett Modern AU Headcanons:

Boba is the youngest of his fam, with his dad being Jango then goes Cody (married to Obi, both 26), Bly 25 (married to Aayla 25), Ponds 24, Wolffe 22, Fox 22 (married to Quinlan 24), Rex 20, Boba 18 (other clones are 1st cousins)

Cal and Boba were 16 when they met each other

All Mandalorians live in a community, kinda like Arabic Communities, just sprinkled around with Mandalorian Shops nearby and some neighborhoods with large groups of them

They all know each other and talk/gossip, especially about the younger Gen.

Because of this, Boba keeps his social life away from all that

Cal attends the same high school and they share a few classes (that’s how they met)

They both went to a party, got high, and made out/mostly talked in the backyard for several hours

The Monday of school, Boba asked Cal out on a date and they’ve been together ever since

They both really like each other but Boba keeps it a secret from his fam (Cal’s fam knows and have met Boba)

They are able to keep it a secret for a long time with the help of their friends

Bobas family have met Cal but under the pretense of being friends

At first they kept it a secret because they didn’t know how serious they were. When they were ready, it was hard to bring it up

Cal is adopted by Jaro Tapal, who isn’t home during the week due to work, but he is home on weekends

Boba and Cal are eventually caught by Bossk, Boba’s other father (not in a relationship with Jango but Jango needed help and Bossk was there a lot)

Boba and Cal were kissing outside of the school at the end of the day and Bossk went to pick Boba up (Boba’s car was being borrowed by Wolffe) and Bossk came too early

Bossk is like ‘okay why do I care’ and doesn’t tell anyone bc he thinks Boba’s panicked face is funny

Bossk’s condition for keeping it a secret is that he gets to be there when Boba tells everyone

It ends up during a large family party (a lot of relatives are there, not his brothers spouses, just his brothers), one of Boba’s cousins who hates Boba asked about Boba’s boyfriend at the table, like everyone knew

He pretended to be shocked that Boba hadn’t told anyone (he eavesdropped on them talking about dates and sneaking out)

You could hear a pin drop

It was quickly a brawl between the two, with Boba winning via breaking his nose

He ran out with his brothers clamoring after him, stopping when his father came into the yard and yelled at them

Boba ended up at Cal’s place, spending the night there

Both of them went over the next day, to introduce Cal quietly

Unfortunately, all his brothers and their partners were still there so it was more

Boba walks in and calls for his dad, everyone peaks out to see them, Cal pales and tries to walk out, Jango seats them all away and talks to the boys outside

it goes pretty well, Jango likes Cal but doesn't give him the shovel talk because Cal already looks like he's about to keel over and die

Jango doesn't pity him enough to save him from his children and has Cal go inside while talking to Boba outside

Cal looks traumatized after that and has yet to say a word without seeming like it was under duress

The whole night goes well but no one really *knows* anything about cal by the end of it

Fett Fam: we aren’t that intimidating, whys he so afraid? Cal: *inside his head* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA but also Boba asked me to be here so imma do my best :D but also AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

It isn’t until a few more meetings that they actually start to get to know him

Unfortunately, due to his fam knowing, Boba and Cal are more limited in their dates (and other more intimate activities, tho no one knows about this)

Bad to worse when a month or so later Rex walks in on them making out that’s more bordering on having sex with clothes on

Cue the ‘use protection talk’ that turns into ‘you’ve been doing this how long’ to ‘my baby brother is innocent and is a baby!’

So now they are limited to any fun activities outside of either home which has caused problems but they deal

Cal has a chance to meet the Fett family spouses during a family dinner turned storm hideout for the weekend

It was raining hard and supposed to be bad but as dinner continued the power went out and the streets were undrivable so no one could get home

Cal bonded surprisingly well with Aayla Obiwan and Quinlan and they eased him about being a part of the family

Despite being introduced to both families, they keep it rather private and just between them

A few weeks before leaving for college, both families decide to have a whole get together to meet (though Boba limited them to just his direct family, no cousins or aunts/uncles)

Cal and Boba are nervous but Jaro and Jango do the ‘dad’ thing and talk shop about whatever dads talk about and that eases everyone

To no one surprise, they get married after college and move into an apartment an hour from Jango’s home

They use Mandalorian traditions for the wedding, gifting knives, the vows, and exchange arm cuffs worn on the upper arm (instead of the vambrance, a modern substitute. Cal gets a set of armor later.)

Ragnar Time Travel

So, y'know time travel fics were someone gets thrown back and saves everyone. The Ragnar (being a teen at the time of my idea) gets plopped down into the clone wars via magic stuff on one of his ventures as an apprentice to Axe. He'd end up with 104th bc Dad Koon. Ragnar saved a clone, completely on accident while running from something going to kill him, and then trying to salvage the situation.

He partners with the 104th and its adventure time! Ragnar is just amazed at the old tech (in a 'how id you function??' sorta teen way) and incredibly weirded out by the Plo Koon's Jedi-ness.

Ragnar gets along just about as well as he gets along with anyone outside the Tribe (which is fine but kinda quiet and uncomfy). Though, he finds the clones interesting and a few are interested in Mandalorian culture.

He’s totally shocked that they aren’t allowed to be Mandalorian. ‘Uhhhh that’s the whole point??? To be from diff places?? As long as you follow the creed ur a Mando! Wdym they were born from a tube?! That matters????? What kinda Mandalorians are you talking about??’

Anyway, the clones are very happy to have that validation that it’s the Mandos who are wrong. The clones adore Ragnar and Plo Koon makes sure that he is comfortable.

They end up meeting with the 501st for backup and Anakin is more hostile than Plo Koon towards Ragnar (enter Anakin Drama). Ragnar avoids Anakin because the vibes are off with him.

Anyway, Ragnar never mentions his last name bc he didn’t think it mattered and then Anakin goes on a rant about Death Watch and Pre Vizsla and Ragnar is like ‘??? My crazy uncle???’

In the end, Ragnar is like ‘I’m a Vizsla foundlings and my dad is a Vizsla but Pre is a douche bag.’

It’d be even funnier if they somehow ran into him and Ragnar tells him to his face that he thinks Pre is stupid

Anyway, I am all for teen Ragnar having such an attitude but also being a sweetheart.

CLONES AS RANDOM TIKTOKS PART 8 LETS GOOOOOOOOO

Rex Remembers

     Rex didn’t know how he missed it. He walked closer to the multi-haired girl. On her shoulder, that number he has seen it before. It was the symbol of his brother. He hadn’t seen it in a long time. He walked closer to her and touched the symbol. Ashoka looked at her old friend, and realized why he looked so sad. That five was a huge part of his life back in the Clone Wars. His eyes filled with tears.

     “Fives.” Was all he whispered. And all it took for Ashoka to take two huge strides toward her friend. And she put her hand on his shoulder.

     “What’s going on Ashoka?” Sabine asked. The crew of the ghost looking on in curiosity. Rex dropped his hand to his side and sighed.

     “This was the symbol of one of my brothers. CT-25555. Fives. He was so proud of that number he got it tattooed on his forehead. Dumb as shit he was. But smarter than anyone else I knew. Except for Echo. Also dumb as shit.” Rex let out a small laugh as Ashoka tightened her grip on his shoulder.

    “These where some of the men that served under Rex and I. They where some of the best men anyone could ask for.” She laughed, “We had great time with them.”

    Ezra stole a glimpse at Sabine locking eyes with her. Curiosity written across his face. Sabine went to motion him not to ask. But his curiosity got the best of them.

   “Really?” The small blue haired boy asked.

    Rex was taken aback. Before he started laughing. He reminded him of Echo always curious, ever learning. While the girl reminded him of Fives, rambunctious and always looking for a fight, but fiercely protective. Fitting she got his number.

   “Yes. Those where my brothers. We fought side by side in many battles. From the Rishi moon, to Umbara. I met them at at Rishi moon base. They never left my side after that day.

   On the battle of Kamino they fought bravely protecting the cadets with us. Fives was a grand speaker, he inspired us. He inspired me.

   Echo on the other hand, was not good with people. But he was smart. If you needed to know something you go to him.

   On the Citadel he fought bravely.” Rex took in a deep breath. The crew was sat around him listening intently to his stories. Even Kanan had sat down to lis

   “Echo went for the shuttle. And it exploded. We couldn’t go for him. We had to leave.” He had to take another minute to compose himself. Ashoka put her arm around him. And he looked at her and smile.

   “Fives was devastated, as was I. But Fives more than anyone. Fives became more sullen and quiet. But never lost the fire in his eye. He fought braver than ever after that. Maybe because he had nothing left to live for. But it was on Umbara where he really shined.

   Our temporary Jedi general turned on us. He tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen. I was a fool not to listen. He fought courageously at my side.

   It was when another of my men, Tup, his chip malfunctioned. Fives was the one who discovered it. He was framed by the chancellor, and he tried to warn me again. I this time I listened. He was shot. I held him in my arms as he died.

  Later we found Echo was alive. Fives would have been ecstatic to have his brother back. Echo left with another group of clones. One he fit in with. It hurt to see him go.” Rex stopped and dropped his head into his hands. Ashoka also dropped her head. The crew looked around sadly, but was surprised when Rex started laughing.

   “Uh, Rex are you ok?” Ashoka asked. Rex nodded still laughing.

   “I was just thinking of that time y’all painted my armor.” It took Ashoka a minute before she realized the memory he was talking about. And turned red in shame. Which only made Rex laugh harder and Ashoka turn reder. The crew looked at the pair. Before Ezra just had to ask another question.

   “What are you talking about?”

   “Once before a week long mission. Ashoka, Fives, and Echo snuck into my chamber and painted my armor pink. I had no time to wipe it off or paint over it before we had to leave.

    I had never been more embarrassed. In my life. The general wouldn’t stop laughing at me.” This caused the crew to begin to laugh as well.

   “Are you sure it’s not as embarrassing as that time Fives and Hardcase put bright red hair dye and glitter into your shampoo?” Ashoka asked her old friend.

   “Right I forgot about that. That was a long time ago. It stayed red and shiny for weeks.” Rex laughed.

    Rex and Ashoka continued to carry on telling stories of the past. The whole crew in tears laughing. The stories of war, stories hope, stories of sadness, stories of pranks and happiness. Stories of not a better time, but a time that came before. 

   Rex looked at the crew, that time was long gone. Those people where long gone. This is a here and now, this was his family now. And he would protect them with his life.