Chronically Ill, Chronically Chill

29 and TIRED. Chaotic-Neutral disaster. Multi-Fandom Nerd. Basically just here to shitpost things I like. ⚠️🚨21+ MDNI... accounts without age and/or posts will be BLOCKED🚨⚠️

[flyleaf-girl]

Au Revoir

So.

Shit-posting with abandon has made it near-impossible to post fics in a coherent manner. (Not that it was gonna be coherent in the first place, lol 😂😭)

I’m working on a separate blog/ account/ whatever the hell it’s called.

Stay tuned for more from the Hot Mess Express. ALL ABOARD, BITCHES!

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

Defend disabled people who aren't only making the healthiest possible choices forever. We need to stop holding the people with the least resources to the highest standards of health. We need to stop pointing fingers at disabled people who aren't even doing anything your average abled person isn't also doing.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Grizzer’s Choice”

Sergeant Hound x Reader

Coruscant’s upper levels were all steel and structure, but down here—beneath the polished platforms and Senate façades—was the Coruscant Guard’s territory. Order in chaos. The pulse of the city was felt more than seen, vibrating faintly under your boots as you stepped into the Guard kennel compound for the first time.

You took a slow breath. It smelled of durasteel, sanitizing agents, and wet fur.

Perfect.

You’d worked with animals your whole life. Big ones. Aggressive ones. Ones people gave up on, called dangerous or impossible. That’s how you landed the job—new mastiff handler for the Coruscant Guard’s prized unit.

A few troopers passed you with curious looks—some respectful, some dismissive. It wasn’t common for civilians to be embedded here. It was rarer still for one to be given a job involving him.

Grizzer.

The massiff lay in the shadowed corner of the compound, head lifted, ears twitching. His yellow eyes locked on you immediately.

The massiff was a fixture in Guard circles. A creature bred for control, raised on structure, trained in pain response and patrol aggression. He wasn’t a pet. He wasn’t a soldier, either. He was something in between—lethal and loyal, the way a war dog should be.

And he didn’t like anyone but his handler. The clone in crimson-striped armor waiting for you outside the kennels stood with arms folded, helmet clipped to his belt, posture sharp as a vibroblade.

“[Y/N]?” he asked, voice clipped.

“Yes, sir. Reporting for assignment.”

“Sergeant Hound,” he introduced. No small talk, no smile. “You’ll be assisting with behavioral oversight and training reinforcement for the precinct’s massiffs. That doesn’t mean taking liberties. You observe. You follow orders. You stay out of the way.”

Not exactly a welcome mat.

You nodded. “Understood.”

He turned on his heel and led you inside.

The kennels were quiet—clean, organized. The soft shuffle of claws on durasteel echoed from a side corridor. Grizzer was massive—thick-muscled, scarred, and alert. His hackles rose the moment his yellow eyes landed on you. His lip twitched in a soundless growl.

You kept your posture loose but grounded. Not threatening. Not submissive.

“Don’t speak,” Hound said quietly. “Just kneel. Hands visible.”

You obeyed without hesitation.

Grizzer approached—slow, ears rotating slightly. You didn’t reach out. You simply held your ground, steady, and let him scent the air between you.

Then, to Hound’s quiet surprise, Grizzer sat. Not completely relaxed. But watching you, calm.

Hound blinked.

“He doesn’t do that,” he muttered.

You finally glanced up. “He does now.””

⸻

Grizzer had taken to you faster than anyone expected. It was subtle—he didn’t become affectionate or eager—but he tolerated your touch, followed your directions, even mirrored your body language during patrol drills. The clone officers noticed. Fox himself dropped a comment during one of the rotation briefings.

“Grizzer’s got a new favorite,” he muttered as he passed you.

You caught Hound watching you more often now—sometimes in silence during shift changes, sometimes while adjusting Grizzer’s gear. Not hostile. Just… thoughtful. Assessing.

That night, while off-duty, you found yourself sitting on the edge of a service stairwell overlooking the lower hangar levels. A small moment of quiet between patrols.

Boots echoed behind you.

“You’re off duty,” Hound said, approaching. “You could be sleeping.”

You smirked without looking back. “You could be too.”

He stood beside you for a moment, then sat—grudgingly, like it offended him to admit he needed rest.

Silence lingered. But not heavy this time. Companionable.

“I’ve seen Grizzer bite men for less than standing too close to me,” he said eventually.

You turned to him, arching a brow. “Should I be worried?”

“No.” He paused. “That’s what’s strange.”

A beat passed.

“He trusts you,” Hound continued. “That’s not something I trained into him. That’s something he chose.”

You studied him—his scarred knuckles, the stiffness in his shoulders that never fully eased. A soldier first. A handler second. A man… somewhere beneath all of that.

“Then I guess he’s smarter than both of us,” you said softly.

Hound looked at you.

Not sharply. Not critically.

Just looked. And for the first time, you saw something tired in him. Not weak. Just worn down from too many deployments, too many arrests, too many shifting rules in a galaxy that didn’t make sense anymore.

“Maybe,” he murmured. “Or maybe he just sees what I’m too used to ignoring.”

You tilted your head. “What’s that?”

“You care. And you don’t ask for anything in return.”

Another pause. A flicker of something in his gaze.

“That’s rare in this job,” he added.

Grizzer padded over from the shadows and laid his heavy head on your lap, letting out a slow sigh.

Hound stared at the massiff, then at you again.

“I was wrong about you,” he said simply. “You’re not here to handle the animals.”

You raised a brow.

“You’re here to remind us we’re more than just uniforms.”

You didn’t respond.

Grizzer’s weight was comforting. His head rested on your lap, massive chest rising and falling in sync with your breathing. You absently scratched behind his coarse ears, your fingers finding the notch from some old skirmish or riot bite. Hound had gone quiet beside you, his elbows resting on his knees, head slightly bowed.

He was still wearing half his armor—greaves, chestplate, the red markings catching the glow from the hangar lights below. He looked tired. But not worn down. Just quiet.

The kind of quiet soldiers earned, not feared.

“You always this silent off-duty?” you asked gently.

Hound exhaled a faint laugh—just enough breath to make it real. “Only when I’m trying not to ruin something.”

You turned toward him slightly. “Ruin what?”

He met your gaze. And something about it—about the lack of armor in his eyes—made the silence between you shift. He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, his hand lifted—callused and gloved—almost as if to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. But he stopped, fingers hovering just near your cheek.

“I’m not good at this,” he said quietly.

You swallowed. “You don’t have to be.”

A breath passed.

He leaned in—barely. The kind of lean that spoke of hesitation, of a soldier measuring risk, calculating damage, even here. Even now.

And you leaned in, too.

It wasn’t a kiss. Not yet. But the space between you narrowed to a thread, the kind you didn’t want to break. His eyes flicked to your mouth, then back up.

Then—

“Sergeant.”

The voice cracked the moment apart like a blaster round through glass.

Both of you jerked slightly apart, tension resetting in your shoulders. Grizzer lifted his head from your lap, a low rumble forming deep in his throat.

Commander Fox stood at the top of the stairwell, arms folded, expression unreadable. His helmet was clipped to his belt, and his voice was flat.

“We’re short a patrol on Sector C-14. I need you on rotation, now.”

Hound’s jaw clenched, but he nodded once, efficient and emotionless.

“Copy that.”

Fox’s gaze slid to you, then to Grizzer—who was now fully on his feet, hackles half-raised, eyes locked on the Commander like he was prey. A low growl echoed across the steel.

“Call off your mutt,” Fox said sharply.

“He’s not a mutt,” you said before thinking, standing slowly and resting a hand on Grizzer’s flank. “He just doesn’t like people who interrupt.”

Fox’s brow twitched. Hound gave you the faintest side-glance—half warning, half impressed.

“See that he’s leashed and off the hangar levels by 2200,” Fox added, then turned and walked off without another word.

Silence returned, but it wasn’t the same.

Hound rose to his feet beside you. Grizzer stayed close to your leg, still staring toward the stairwell.

You broke the quiet first. “Almost.”

He nodded, quiet.

“Yeah.”

Neither of you said it. You didn’t need to.

But as he stepped away, pausing just long enough for one last look, you caught the faintest flicker of something in his voice—something that sounded like hope.

“I’m on rotation ‘til 0300,” he said. “But I’ll be back.”

You nodded once, heart steady but loud. “I’ll wait.”

Grizzer huffed.

Hound gave the massiff a rare half-smile.

“Try not to bite Fox next time,” he muttered.

But even you could tell… he wasn’t entirely serious.

⸻

You were still awake.

The barracks were quiet. You’d been sitting on a folded crate just outside the kennel med bay, a stim-caf growing cold between your hands, eyes scanning the darkened corridor.

When the outer hatch hissed open, your breath caught.

Hound stepped through first—helmet on, armor dulled with soot and carbon scuffs. But it wasn’t him your eyes locked on.

It was Grizzer.

He limped in beside his handler, front right paw curled tight to avoid weight, blood drying in a jagged smear up his shoulder. His thick tail was low but not tucked—still alert, still proud, but hurting.

“Blaster graze,” Hound said as he approached, voice clipped, too calm.

You were already moving.

“I’m not a vet, but—bring him in. Now.”

Hound didn’t argue.

He followed you through the kennel’s side hall into the back medical stall—one of the few areas with proper light and clean storage drawers. You cleared the low bench, grabbing antiseptic, gauze, a med-spray from your locker.

Grizzer lay down without command, eyes tracking you but not fighting. You took that as trust.

You worked in silence. Gently shaving back the singed fur, dabbing the graze clean. It wasn’t deep, but it had burned skin—angry, red, raw.

You caught Hound’s hands twitching at his sides more than once.

“He’ll be okay,” you said softly. “No nerve damage. He’ll walk it off in two days.”

Hound crouched beside Grizzer, resting one hand on the massiff’s uninjured shoulder, his other brushing through the thick fur behind his ear.

The silence that settled wasn’t empty—it was full.

Full of the sound of breath evening out. Of blood pressure lowering. Of armor creaking as a soldier finally let go.

“You care about him like he’s more than a partner,” you said, not as a question.

“He’s the only constant I’ve had since Kamino.”

The way he said it—low, quiet, unsentimental—landed heavy.

“I get that,” you replied. “You lose enough people, the ones who stay matter more.”

Grizzer let out a tired huff and nudged your wrist with his nose.

You smiled. “And he’s got good taste in people.”

Hound looked up at you.

Not guarded this time. Not assessing. Just looking.

“You stayed up,” he said.

“I said I’d wait.”

He stood slowly, watching you as you finished wrapping the bandage. The space between you narrowed again—this time in quiet exhaustion, quiet care.

You didn’t flinch when he reached up—just brushed a hand over your cheek, gentle, almost reverent.

He exhaled.

Then you leaned into him.

And he kissed you.

It wasn’t desperate or sharp—just honest. The kind of kiss that says I trust you, the kind that follows after weeks of tension and hours of worry. You melted into it, letting your hand rest over the back of his neckplate, letting him feel that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Then—

Grizzer groaned and shifted between your legs, snout nudging the both of you apart. He pushed his head under your arm and leaned hard into your ribs, jealous and affectionate all at once.

You laughed, breathless. “You little saboteur.”

“He’s worse than Fox,” Hound muttered.

You and Hound both turned as the side hall door hissed open again.

“Oh for kriff’s—”

Commander Thorn stood in the doorway, a datapad in hand, brows raised.

He took one look at the scene—Grizzer crammed between the two of you like a possessive third wheel, Hound with his hand still at your waist, you flushed and tousled.

There was a long pause.

Thorn blinked once. Then he pivoted neatly on his heel.

“I don’t wanna know about it,” he said, walking off.

The door hissed shut again behind him.

Silence.

Then Hound let out a low chuckle—just a puff of breath, really, but it was genuine. He looked down at you, still holding your waist.

“At least it wasn’t Fox.”

You smiled. “I’ll take it.”

Grizzer gave one last grunt of satisfaction and nosed between you both again.

Hound shook his head, but his hand didn’t leave your side.

Not this time.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Fox x reader where he isn’t that closed off or gruff, he just wants to protect the reader and isn’t sure how to get their affection not knowing she’s down bad for him! But then she courageously saves Thorn life on the field while shooting at a droid pretty badassly lol and after checking on Thorn in the infirmary, he goes to the reader and he’s like please and she conforts him with tons of kisses

“Collateral Hearts”

Commander Fox x Reader

The blast doors rattled as the sky outside lit up in smoke and streaking plasma.

Coruscant wasn’t supposed to burn. Not here. Not this close to the Senate.

And yet, droids had breached the lower levels and were crawling their way upward — a full wave of Separatist machines, clawing through the Underworld like rats. The Guard was stretched thin. Civilians were panicking. Communications were jammed. The air was thick with alarms and soot and the bite of fear.

And still, Fox looked for you.

He told himself it was professional — your squad was on the outer flank, helping evacuate a cluster of government buildings under siege. But when the droids cut through the front barricade and he barked orders across the comms, there was only one voice he was listening for:

Yours.

“Commander,” you said, breathless, just before static crackled. “We’re taking heavy fire. Thorn’s team is hit. I’m moving to cover.”

His gut twisted.

No. No, no—

“Pull back. That’s an order.”

“I can’t. I can’t leave him. He’s pinned.”

The line cut.

Fox didn’t hesitate.

⸻

By the time he reached the courtyard, the air was thick with smoke and fire. Plasma bolts flew in every direction. Civilians screamed as Guard troopers pulled them into cover. And in the middle of the chaos — in the worst possible spot — you stood your ground.

Fox saw it like a slow-motion reel:

You, sprinting through open fire, sliding behind cover just in time to avoid a cannon blast.

You, aiming without hesitation, blasting through two B2s with perfect precision.

You, reaching Thorn — bleeding and cornered — and dragging him behind a shattered speeder without flinching.

You, taking a shot to the shoulder and barely reacting.

His heart stopped.

Fox broke formation, storming into the fire line. “Get her out of there!” he shouted to his men. “Now!”

A nearby trooper tried to intercept, but Fox was already moving, blaster drawn, rage and terror slamming into his lungs like a war drum.

And then—

BOOM.

You took out a tank droid with a stolen thermal detonator, tossing it beneath its treads and diving over Thorn’s body as it blew.

Dust and flame filled the air.

Fox reached you a second later, dropped to his knees, and tore your body off Thorn’s with his bare hands.

“You’re hit.”

“I’m fine,” you gasped, blinking through blood. “Thorn—he was—”

Fox didn’t let you finish.

He crushed you into him, hand over your wound, arm around your back, holding you like you were already slipping away.

“You should’ve run,” he muttered, voice shaking. “You should’ve let me protect you.”

⸻

The medbay was quieter than the battlefield but not calmer.

Thorn, patched up and grumpy, lay in a bed with a bacta wrap around his ribs. You sat nearby, half-drowsy and bandaged at the shoulder, cheeks still smeared with soot and blood. Fox hadn’t left your side for an hour.

Thorn watched the two of you like a hawk.

“You know,” he said finally, “she saved my shebs like some kind of goddess of death. It was terrifying. And hot. Mostly terrifying.”

Fox glared. “You’re on painkillers.”

“I am,” Thorn nodded cheerfully. “Which means I can say this without filter: Commander, if you don’t tell her you’re in love with her, I will. And I’ll do it dramatically.”

You blinked.

Fox froze.

“I—” he started. “That’s not—”

“I’d like to hear it,” you said softly, eyes locked on him.

Fox looked like he’d been shot.

“I—stars, I’m not good at this,” he admitted, dragging a hand over his face. “I know I come off cold. I don’t mean to. I’m not. Not with you. I just don’t know how to do it right.”

You stood slowly, approaching him. Your shoulder ached, but you didn’t care.

“You protect everyone,” you whispered. “But it’s okay to want someone to protect you, too.”

Fox looked down at you, throat tight, eyes rimmed red from adrenaline and fear and whatever emotions he’d buried beneath his armor for years.

“I couldn’t breathe when you went silent on the comms,” he said quietly. “I’ve been trying to stay distant. Do the job. Not want you too much. But today—seeing you go down—I thought I’d lost you. And I can’t do that again. I can’t—”

You silenced him with a kiss.

Fox went still, stunned.

Then, slowly, carefully, his arms curled around you, like he was holding something precious. He kissed you back — warm and shaking, forehead brushing yours, fingers tangled in your jacket like you were the only thing keeping him steady.

When you pulled back, he chased your lips like a man starved.

You kissed him again. And again. His gloved hands cradled your face. Your fingers traced the curve of his cheek where his helmet usually sat. And when he let out a soft, broken sound — almost a laugh, almost a sob — you kissed the corners of his mouth until the tension melted.

“You don’t have to say it perfectly,” you murmured. “I already know.”

Fox buried his face in your shoulder and breathed in.

He finally felt safe.

⸻

Later that night, you curled up beside him in the Guard’s officer barracks, both of you wrapped in a thermal blanket on the floor because neither of you could bring yourselves to leave each other. You kissed his forehead while he muttered about you being reckless.

“You’re mine,” he said quietly, when he thought you were asleep.

You weren’t.

You smiled into his neck.

“I always was.”

⸻

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Can i request a fox x reader where he's super soft towards them, not like in a ooc way but where he's just nicer and more relaxed with them than anyone else. And maybe the corrie guard overhears him being soft and they burst into the room like "who are you and what have you done with fox?" lmao

Loveyourwritingmydarlingokeybyeeee <3

“Soft Spot”

Commander Fox x Reader

The Commander of the Coruscant Guard was many things: stern, intense, inflexible, direct, and famously immune to nonsense.

Except, apparently, when it came to you.

No one really noticed it at first. Fox wasn’t exactly the hand-holding type. His version of affection was a nod of acknowledgment or the way he’d always check to see if you made it back to your quarters safely after Senate briefings. But lately, the cracks in the durasteel facade were getting harder to ignore.

Like now.

You were perched on the edge of his desk in the command center, arms crossed lazily while he keyed in reports with one hand and let the other rest lightly—casually—on your thigh.

His voice, low and gravelly, was uncharacteristically gentle.

“You didn’t sleep much last night,” he murmured, not looking at you but very much not hiding his concern. “You’ve got that look in your eye again.”

“I’m fine,” you replied, giving a little smirk. “That’s just how my face looks when a certain commander forgets to bring caf.”

Fox exhaled a quiet laugh. A laugh. “That’s mutiny talk. You want to end up in a holding cell?”

“With you? Might be worth it.”

He stopped typing. Finally looked up. “Careful. I might take you up on that.”

You were just about to tease him back when the door burst open so violently that one of the wall panels actually rattled.

Thorn, Hound, Stone, and Thire stood there like they’d just walked in on a crime scene.

Stone was the first to speak, horrified: “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH FOX?!”

Fox blinked. “Excuse me?”

Hound squinted suspiciously. “No, no, something’s not right. He laughed. I heard it. He laughed. He touched someone willingly. I’m calling medbay—Fox, are you concussed?”

Thorn pointed an accusing finger. “That was flirtation! You flirted, Fox! In Basic! With smiling! You’re a danger to the chain of command!”

Thire just slowly turned to you, deadpan. “How long has this been going on?”

You lifted your hands, grinning. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Fox stood, dead calm. “Get out.”

“No,” Hound said flatly, arms crossed. “Not until you admit you’re in love and also apologize for emotionally terrorizing us with your… softness. I mean, stars, Fox. You said she looked tired like you care. That’s romantic horror.”

Thorn leaned against the doorframe like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all cycle. “Is this why you actually smiled yesterday when she waved at you across the hall? I thought you were having a stroke.”

“I’m calling a medic anyway,” Stone added. “Just in case.”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. Fox just pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I am going to file so many disciplinary reports,” he muttered.

“And we’ll burn them all,” Thire chirped.

Hound grinned. “C’mon, just admit it, vod. You like her.”

“I never denied it,” Fox replied, surprisingly quiet. His eyes met yours. “I just didn’t think it was any of your business.”

The room went dead silent.

Then Thorn wheezed. “He said it. He said it out loud. Commander Fox has feelings.”

You leaned into Fox’s side, bumping your shoulder into his. “You might want to start locking your door if you’re gonna keep being sweet on me like this.”

“I will now,” he muttered, glaring at the four guards still standing there. “Get. Out.”

Stone waved as he backed out, still looking like he’d witnessed a live explosion.

Thire saluted dramatically. “We’ll leave you to your romantic crimes, sir.”

“I’m telling Jet,” Thorn added gleefully.

Fox groaned and sank back into his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

You leaned down to kiss his temple. “You okay, Commander?”

He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chest like it grounded him. “Only because you’re still here.”

From the hallway: “SICKENING!”

Fox raised his blaster. “I will shoot them.”

You just smiled and kissed him again.

[a-dorin]

do y’all think wolffe uses :) or .) when he texts?

[a-dorin]

sleepy

pairing: commander wolffe x reader

warnings: ummm.. a few curse words, some cuddling, fluff

a/n: i really have nothing else to say about this other than i was thinking about him, and that this is a very self-indulgent fic. i hope you guys enjoy it :’))

Keep reading

[saltyseaturtle]

10 credits say the younglings of the Jedi Temple made up a Rock Paper Scissors like game based off of the Mortis Gods

[saltyseaturtle]

“Echo's handiwork or Omega's?”

“Omega”

THIS SCENE HAD ME CACKLING! They know their girl! Not to mention Crosshair’s little head roll! 🤣🥰

[omaano]

Scratching up their armor is incredibly satisfying for some reason

[clonetrooperdiaries]

Hello!! I had an idea for a 501st x force sensitive reader (maybe a bad batch cameo pls?), where she can see force ghosts of passed clones and she wants to try and find a good way of telling Rex and the others boys that their brothers are ok and happy. Maybe she gets headaches because ghost fives is talking her ear off while she’s trying to listen to the briefing.

Hope you had a good weekend!! Love your work!xx

Summary : You have a secret... You can see dead people. What happens when Captain Rex finds out? Pairings : Captain Rex x Fem!reader (Mechanic reader) x Fives? Warnings : ansgt, talks of death, talks of ghosts, talks of fives death and the beginnings of order 66, fluffy, cute ending, Rex is adorably awkward Words : 3.8k A/N : Okay I am in LOVE with this request! I had so much fun with this and I went a little crazy but I really hope you love it! It's absolutely one of my favourite stories I've done so far! And the Yoda cameo? we love to see our favourite little green Jedi! All ghosts talk in italics masterlist here

Be quiet  

Be quiet  

Be quiet! 

Your head was pounding as you and your astromech R0-80 (or ROBO) were currently welding new paneling to a shuttle that is scheduled to leave in the morning. All around you whispers and cries that only you could hear were bouncing off your skull, giving you a wicked headache. Normally you could just ignore it and push through, you have your whole life but, on days like today when the talking is so loud you can’t think straight.  

Please! I know you can hear me!  

“Robo can you do the bottom of the shuttle while I weld the top?” 

He chirps happily and rolls off under the ship to continue welding. Slowly and shakily, you climb up to the roof of the shuttle and start welding again.  

I need to complete my mission! 

Just ignore it. Just ignore it. Just ignore it.  

You take a deep breath and continue your welds, slowly with slightly shaky hands but still straight. You finish your panel and move onto the next one, slowly crawling over to the next spot and it is only then that a voice yells out to you. 

Please listen to me!  

The shout makes you jump and lose your footing, and you go flailing backwards and fall off the top of the ship hitting the hangar floor with a hard thud! You lie there for a moment stunned, the voices quieter than normal, your vision slightly dizzy, when you hear heavy footsteps approach you.  

“You alright ma’am?”  

A gloved hand waves in front of your eyes making you jump. You look up to a blonde head and the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Once the dizziness settles for a moment you realize that Captain Rex is standing over you looking concerned. You can hear quiet chuckles in the distance whether those are from other soldiers or from the voices you're not sure.   

Your cheeks go bright red as you slowly sit up instantly regretting it as your head pounds behind your eyes, “I’m ok- Ouch!”  

“Don’t move I’ll call Kix to come look at ya.” he says already comming the medic before you can protest, “Kix, we need you in the hangar and bring your kit!” 

You look down closing your eyes to ease the aching of your head and to ignore the gaze of the beautiful captain above you, “Really captain I’m alright. No need to waste resources...” 

“There’s no such thing as wasted resources when someone's in need.” he says gently patting your shoulder with a small smile.  

You’ve watched Captain Rex and his men of the 501 since your first day. Like all the soldiers they gave a strong presence wherever they go and even though they are a bit radical like their general and commander you always admired them. They are really sweet and goofy and have even come over to talk to you sometimes while you were working asking you random questions, you think it was pre mission jitters that made them come over to you because there really isn’t any other reason to come talk to you but you appreciate it nonetheless.  

Looks like captain is flirting. Didn’t know he knew how. 

“He’s not flirting shut up!” you hiss. 

Rex looks down at you with red ears, “What was that?” 

You look up at him your cheeks burning bright, “Umm nothing!” 

Rapid footsteps approach the two of you and you both turn to see Kix, “I’m here captain! Where’s my patient?”  

“Our mechanic here took a fall from the top of the shuttle. I think she hit her head pretty good.” he explains while Kix opens his med kit and grabs a scanner. You sigh as he goes over your whole body, feeling the embarrassment of lying on the hangar floor being checked for injuries while groups of soldiers walk by and stare as they get prepped to leave on their next mission.  

Kix looks down at you with a smile, “Good news is there’s no concussion. Just a visible bump on the head for the time being. A bacta patch and you’ll be good to go.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate your help.” you say gently with a smile. 

Kix applies the patch to your head making you wince, “Just doing my job. Now you be more careful up there. Don't wanna bruise that pretty face of yours.” 

And now Kix is flirting... I shouldn’t be surprised all the boys are fawning over you. You are beautiful. Maybe I should shoot my shot too eh cyare?  

“Kriffin hell please stop talking!” you say exasperated only to realize you said that out loud and both clones look at you with sheepish, confused expressions. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean that I... wasn’t talking to you...” 

Rex and Kix both look at you confused, “Who were you talking too?” 

“U-Uh... myself.”  

Kix grabs his scanner from his bag again with a concerned look, “I’m gonna scan you again just to be safe...”  

What the three of you didn’t know is that Master Yoda had made an unexpected trip down from the temple to the hangar when he felt something odd in the force. He stood from a far watching you as various fallen clones try to get your attention. The only way they would be this persistent is if they knew you could hear them, or see them... 

As Kix stands over you with the scanner and Rex beside him you hear a faint tapping sound getting closer and the three of you turn to see Master Yoda coming toward you.  

“General!” 

“General!” 

Master Yoda nods at them as he stares directly at you with a curious smile, “come with me young one. Much to discuss we do!” 

... 

You remember the first time you seen a ghost, you were five years old. Your parents had been telling you a story about your grandma who had passed away many years ago, reminiscing on the time they had with her with fond smiles. You had never met her, but you had seen a holophoto of her taken a few days before her passing. As they told stories from the memories they had of her an old woman faded into view behind your mother. She had the same bright blue eyes that your mom had, and her hair was long and grey, braided in two braids just as your grandma always wore.  

She smiled at you with a brightly, and you tilted your head curious, “What’s your name?”  

Your parents looked at you startled wondering who you were talking to when they see you were talking to the empty wall behind your mother.  

My name is Mary-Ann.  

“Mary-Ann is a pretty name. My grandma has that name!” you say happily. Your parents look between you and the empty wall in horror not understanding what is happening in that moment. The old woman walks across the room slowly with her cane and stops in front of you.  

You my granddaughter have a gift. Something special that not a lot of people have. 

“I have a gift? You mean like superpowers?”  

She chuckles warmly. Yes, you have been given the sight to see those who became one with the force once more.  

“What’s the force?” you ask.  

It's what connects all living things and if you have a special power like yours, it can connect you to things that are no longer living as well.  

“So... I can see ghosts?” 

Yes, that right. Though many of us do not have the strength to appear before you. You will hear most of us without ever seeing us.  

“So, I can’t see the ghosts but... I can hear them?” 

As you grow, so will your gift. It will be hard, and you will suffer, but my dear the force chose you for a reason. Never forget that. Take care and may the force be with you... 

She fades away slowly, and it is just you and your parents again. You look at your parents and their shocked expressions as tears fall from your eyes, “can you tell me more stories about grandma?”  

After that encounter you started to hear people, whispers and quiet conversations of people who weren’t there. You very rarely seen a ghost, but you did on occasion. You came to learn that the more you knew about someone, if you had pictures or memories or stories that connected you to them in some way you had a higher chance of seeing them if they chose to appear before you.  

You thought it was really cool at first, you had a super power that nobody else had, not even the Jedi, but as time went on and you would constantly hear voices talking in your ear, or cries of those who suffered before they died it changed you. You constantly got headaches, you mumbled and whispered to yourself as a way to ease the voices to thinking you were talking to them. You had no friends because everyone labeled you the weird kid, the one parents told their kids not to play with because something wasn’t right with you. Your parents tried there hardest, they took you to doctors, specialists and shamans, but nothing helped and nothing worked.  

You continued to grow up isolated and alone with only the voices and ghosts of the past to comfort you over a gift you never asked for. You started to ignore the voices, ignore the ghosts and instead do everything in your power to drown out the noise. You took up mechanics, constantly tinkering and building, taking things apart and putting them back together. The loud noise of the tools, the memorizing of manuals, the comfort you felt in being able to fix something that's been broken like you wish someone could do for you, it became your life. You excelled in mechanics and when the war started you decided that you could use your skills for good and joined the GAR. It was also because the Jedi were the only people you haven't tried to talk to about your gift, and you figured if they couldn’t help you then nobody could.  

You sat on a mat in front of Master Yoda as you told him all this his eyes never leaving yours. Somewhere during your explanation, you started crying and you felt as crazy as you probably looked to the old Jedi. He smiled at you, “Yes. A gift you have... From the force indeed it is...” 

You sigh wiping the tears from your eyes, “but why me? I can’t do anything a Jedi can. I can’t lift things or jump high or fight with a saber. All I can do is hear people I don’t want to hear!”  

“A mystery this is... Research we must do... Louder the voices have become, yes?” he asks you.  

You nod, “Yes. I think... the fallen soldiers are talking to me.” 

“Yes... Sense them around you I do.” he says as he sits in front of you now grabbing your hands, “Know you can hear them, they do...”  

Master Yoda waves a hand around your head and your headache eases, the voices that were trying to get your attention now a whisper. “What did you do?” 

“Trick of the mind. To quiet the voices. Still there they are but... less.” he explains simply and gets up again, “tell no one of this you must. Call for you when I know more, I will.” 

You nod gratefully toward him, “Thank you, Master Yoda!”   

... 

The next day you sat in the mess hall at a table in the far corner away from everyone. Rex walks in with Jesse and sees you out of the corner of his eye and smiles slightly at you. You sat cross legged on your chair, your sandwich shoved in your mouth while you were tinkering with a bunch of small parts that looked like junk, but he could tell it wasn’t junk to you. Your hair was pulled up into a high tail that swung every time you turned your head, and your eyes kept scanning around you like you were looking for something. Rex grabs his lunch and against his better judgement walks over to your table.  

“Hey uh... Mind if I sit here?” he asks with a hesitant smile.  

Your heart flutters in your chest as you rip your sandwich out of your mouth, “S-Sure!”  

He sits down and looks over at your bandage, “How's your head?”  

“Hmm? Oh! It’s okay, I’m okay!” you say smiling, your cheeks burning. You look down at the parts you were tinkering with to avoid his gaze.  

“What are you working on?” he asks trying to carry on the conversation.  

You look up your gaze flickering between the parts in your hand and the warm brown eyes of the captain, “Umm... it will be a solar energy powered stun grenade...” 

He looks startled, “You're building a stun grenade in the mess hall... for fun?”  

“It’s solar powered. Which means it won’t go off and hurt anyone unless its charged with sunlight. And I... like to build things... keeps my hands and my mind busy.” you shrug as you continue to pull parts and jigsaw them into a sphere.  

Oh Cap’s got it bad! He’s getting embarrassed look at his ears!  

You casually glance up and see his ears turning red as he stirs his soup and you smile at him warmly, “You know Captain, this is the first time someone's sat with me at lunch.” 

“R-Really?” he asks stunned.  

You nod again, “Yeah, I’m... a little weird. Most people don’t enjoy my company...” 

“Well, I enjoy your company.” he states matter of fact making you both blush and look down.  

We all knew the captain was awkward but this is just painful...  

You sigh at the soldier's voice and put the final pieces of the grenade together completing it. You smile at your little contraption and when you look at Rex, he’s watching you with a gentle smile, “You’re not weird you know. I think your pretty interesting.” 

“Just wait. You keep hanging around me you’ll see...”  

He chuckles, “Can’t wait.”  

Captain you sly dog you!  

Jesse comes over to your table and puts his tray down beside Rex eyeing you and him with a grin, “Hope you don’t mind captain but the other tables full and I would rather sit at a table with a beautiful view.” 

Kriffin hell! The di’kut stole my line!  

You chuckle at him as Rex looks at him exasperated, “who taught you that line? It's terrible.” 

“Fives obviously. Who else?” he says with a sad smile that Rex returns.  

“Whose Fives?” you ask curiously already thinking you may have the name of the soldier whose been annoying you for the last two months.  

They both look to each other and nod, “He was one of the finest arc troopers in the army of the republic. He was also a terrible flirt.” 

“And he had the most ridiculous sense of humor!” Jesse laughs.  

Rex smiles warmly, “Yeah. He always stood up for us and all our brothers. Losing him hurt more than most...” 

“Sounds handsome.” you smirk and the two of them start laughing.  

Jesse slaps the table he’s laughing so hard, “We all have the same face ya know!”  

“Thanks for the reminder” you wink at Rex, and he blushes hard rubbing the back of his neck.  

Maker just ask her out already! It's embarrassing captain. Man up!  

You try not to laugh at the nagging fallen soldier, “Why did he choose the name Fives?”  

“His number is CT-5555. He even got a five tattooed on the side of his head,” Rex explains thoughtfully as you take a sip of water. It is then that a soldier starts to appear beside Rex, his hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes and you choke spitting your water across the table at Jesse and Rex.  

“Oh maker! I-I'm so sorry I- hold on!” you stammer completely flustered as you grab a napkin and lean across the table to wipe Rex’s face.  

You can see me! You see me! I know you did! 

“It’s alright. I can get it y/n you don’t have to...” he says flustered as Jesse chuckles wiping his own face beside him.  

You hand Jesse another napkin, “I am so sorry I promise I didn’t mean to do that I just... kriffin hell! I gotta go!”  

You jump up grabbing your stuff and shoving it into your bag as you run off flustered and embarrassed beyond belief, leaving the two soldiers wet and confused. Rex looks beside him to the empty space wondering what you saw that spooked you so bad.  

... 

You sat on top of Master Yoda’s starfighter giving it routine maintenance to keep your mind busy. You heart hadn’t stopped racing since you left Captain Rex and Jesse in the mess, you really are ridiculous. Why do you even try to make friends? Honestly as if Rex would see you as anything other than a mechanic with a tendency to do the stupidest things. This is why you're better off alone, so you don’t get your hopes up.  

Don’t throw a pity party it was a mistake. Honestly it was my fault. 

“Of course it was your fault! You’ve been yapping in my ears for the last two months! What do you want?”  

Fives sits on the hood of the starfighter looking down. Honestly, I’m not sure. I just... can’t rest until I know my brothers are safe.  

You drop your tools in your toolbox, “Fives were literally in the middle of a war! Nobody can promise their safety!”  

I know Rex put in a report on what happened when I... died. I know he’s searching for answers. Please tell him to be careful, it’s not his time to join me yet. He needs to finish what I started, for all of us but he has to be careful. 

You sigh rubbing your aching head, “That’s an awful lot of responsibility to put on one man.” 

Yes, but he can do it. He’s Captain of the 501, if he can put up with us and General Skywalker he sure as hell can do just about anything... 

You hop out of the star fighter and sit on the hood beside Fives. You were right he was handsome. His hair was cut short showing his fives tattoo on the side of his head and a cute triangle goatee on his chin, and this lazy smirk that you could tell got him in all kinds of trouble.  

“Is there something else?” you ask quietly.  

He looks at you startled for a moment and then smiles knowingly. Yes. I want him to be happy. We all have had our fair share of loss but Cap he... has had to deal with so much. He needs a light at the end of the tunnel ya know?  

You nod not really understanding where he was going with this.  

He's had a crush on you for a long time and I-  

You gasp, “He what!? Fives that’s not true...” 

I’m not lying. It's pathetic really. He watches you when he thinks no one is looking. He even drunkenly admitted at 79’s one time that he wanted to ask you out but he’s just too busy to commit to anything and he wants to do right by you if he’s gonna ask you.  

Your cheeks heat up, “Th-There’s no way. We barely talk. I literally spit water at him today like a lunatic! And that’s not including I'm literally sitting here talking to you beyond the grave right now! I am a mess, he doesn’t want me!” 

He smiles at you warmly, y/n... you might just be what each other needs and you both don’t know it... 

You sigh, “You said it yourself. Rex has been through so much. The last thing he needs is another person with issues to come into his life and cause more chaos for him to clean up. No matter how much I like him... I will not put him through more grief...” 

“You like me?”  

You jump as you look down and see Rex standing in front of the ship with bright red cheeks and wide eyes, you turn to Fives and he’s laughing, “You did this on purpose didn’t you? You knew he was there?” Fives just shrugs his shoulders and continues to chuckle. “If you weren’t already dead I would strangle you right now!” 

You slide off the ship and stand in front of Rex your cheeks on fire, “How much of that did you hear?”  

“I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been here for a while and I think we need to take you back to Kix because-”  

“Rex... I have a secret. A gift that I’ve had since I was a kid, it’s... I can hear and sometimes see people who have... died.” you whisper while not looking at him. You can’t bear to see his expression.  

“You...? Can see ghosts?” he asks confused.  

“Y-Yes I can. And it’s alright if you don’t believe me, it's a lot to process which is why I don't tell people, and I shouldn’t even be telling you right now, but I just want you to know that I’m not crazy! I- well honestly, I might be crazy-” 

“y/n” 

“And I really don’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already have I-” 

“y/n” 

“Even if you don’t believe me, I just want to continue being frie-” 

He grabs your waist and kisses you, hard. You freeze, all around you, you can hear cheers from thousands of soldiers only you can hear making your ears ring and your head pound, but you could care less in that moment. Fives stands off on the side hollering with a huge smile. 

Atta boy Cap!  

He pulls away and strokes your cheek, “I believe you y/n. And like I told you earlier today, I think you’re really interesting. I didn’t realize how interesting you were going to be but... I still wanna ask you out if that’s okay with you?”  

“Really? After knowing what you know about me?” you ask stunned.  

He nods, “The Jedi can do impossible things so who's to say there aren’t other people in our galaxy that can do them too?” he leans forward his head touching yours, “so can I ask you on a date then?” 

You smile and you feel his breath on your lips, “I would love to go out with you Rex.” 

Finally! I’m dead and even I didn’t know if he was gonna go through with it!  

You can’t help but laugh, “Shut up Fives!”  

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[mylordshesacactus]

[id: expanding brain meme that goes “Thinking Leia is feral because she’s Anakin’s daughter” > “Thinking Leia is feral because she’s PADME’S daughter” > “Realizing Leia is feral because there’s an entire TCW episode where the plot is that Padme calls Bail and says “BAIL MEET ME AT THE DOCKS BRING GUNS” and he just fucking does it because he’s insane”]

[pendovah]

Favourite Dynamics: Ahsoka Tano & Rex (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

All I’ve been since I was a Padawan is a soldier. Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it never happened. But without it, we clones wouldn’t exist. Well then perhaps some good has come from all of it.

[honorearned-a]

Shaxx: Do you hear that, Zavala? That's the sound of forgiveness.

Zavala: That's the sound of people dying, Shaxx.

[honorearned-a]

headcanon that void guardians exhibit a type of “cold fusion” on a more biological scale that accelerates natural growth and so they tend to leave trails of greener grass and bright flowers and blooming trees. defenders leave cute fairy rings from their shields, voidwalkers and nightstalkers cause sporadic blooming and highly accelerated tree growth. if you lose your void friend, look for the trail of flowers in their wake.

[honorearned-a]

BREAKS DOWN YOUR DOOR WAVING AROUND SHAXX GRIMOIRE

THIS IS YOUR DAILY REMINDER THAT SHAXX DOES NOT FIT INTO THE STEREOTYPICAL TITAN MOLD NOT ONLY BECAUSE OF HIS SIZE BUT BECAUSE OF HIS INTEREST IN SCIENCE AND MATHS THROUGH THE STUDY OF MAGIC, SWORDS, AND LAW-BREAKING BULLSHIT THAT IS THE HIVE. SHAXX IS SMART AND CLEVER AND CAN RIP YOU IN HALF. THANKS.

[honorearned-a]

okay lets try this again wo prematurely hitting post

about shaxx’s personality —— he is soft-spoken but firm, he’s calm and yelling is the last thing he wants to do.

shaxx only ever gets loud when he sees incredible feats performed in the crucible bc he knows that that is someone he can rely on in the field, bc his crucible is working and people are learning. he is loud while spectating crucible matches bc aside from being a training ground, the crucible is seen as a sport to some ——– while shaxx doesnt necessarily approve of this, he will play the part of spectator / commentator since it seems to keep morale high within the city. so hes loud and he lets himself get lost in the moment.

but he is primarily calm and quiet. yelling causes panic if used the wrong way, it portrays a sense of urgency, impatience, haste ——– something commonly accepted by everyone is that shaxx is impatient, he’s always angry, he wants things done fast – i think this is due to what we have read about twilight gap and him being a student at some point in his career; students are usually seen as brash and reckless which seems to be something we’ve latched onto shaxx really really quickly when we learned more and more about him – we see him as a polar opposite to saladin who is calm and wizened.

i believe hes the opposite of all this. he is so much like the saladin we speculate: hes incredibly patient, hes observant, hes wary, hes calm. he is an observer, a tactician, a technician, a strategist. shaxx’s many talents and jobs require him to be anything but brash and reckless and angry and impatient. as ive said multiple times before, shaxx is not your stereotypical titan: he is smart, clever, quick-witted, and incredibly kind-hearted. sure he may be a little out of touch w civilian life and awkward around children, but hes got a big heart and he means well in the end. hes just got multiple different ways of approaching this display and while at times he may be loud, thats not his primary output.