A side-blog for all of Darthsuki's writing for the TV series 'The Clone Wars' and related media, including headcanons, drabbles and other reader-centric content. Headcanons | Drabbles | Readershots | Asks/Questions
About Me | FAQ | Other Writing Blogs
This blog, while primarily for Clone Wars era characters and content, is open to the greater Star Wars universe for requests and conversation. I cannot pretend that I do not perceive and think about the Mandalorian series and the namesake character on a regular basis.
Headcanons | Drabbles | Reader Fics
Asks | About Me | FAQ | Other Writing Blogs
Please keep in mind that this blog will contain sexually explicit content, it will be tagged as #spicy.
Triggers will be tagged as needed and requested, please send a message if something needs a tag!
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Imagine for a moment that you are going about your day while traversing everyday stressorsâmaybe youâre focusing on difficult classes or are dealing with a lot of responsibilities at work, or perhaps its simply a bunch of small things that altogether can be exhausting.
Now imagine that you get an alert that you have a letter waiting for youâa letter that is customized and designed specifically from a beloved comfort character! Perhaps itâs encouragement to get through your studies, or a casual conversation to take your mind off of work; who wouldnât want to have something like that to brighten their day?
To many people, a comfort character is a fictional character that someone uses to cope with difficult life experiences. They may be used as an escape from reality, or to help work through periods of stress and uncertainty. Sometimes a comfort character is simply a personâs favorite in a work of fiction, or it is a character that they feel a personal and genuine connection to.
My name is Daniel, and I have been writing for well over a decade across original and fandom-based contentâand most of that has been for a style of writing most commonly called reader-insert, which allows the reader to immerse themselves in the world of the writing itself. I have always enjoyed exploring a variety of characters and how they resonate with people across the world, and have myself found comfort in the safety of fiction during stressful periods of my life.
With the Multiverse Postal Service, Iâm offering my skills and experience to craft you, your self-insert, an OC or a loved one (because who doesnât love a gift?) a customized letter from your favorite characters!
For more information, or if you are curious to see some of the traditional content I have written, check out the links below!
PLEASE REBLOG AND ADD ANY OTHERS YOU MIGHT KNOW OF <3 <3
WOOKIEEPEDIA. The source of anything and everything you want to know related to Star Wars. Good for fact-checking, character history, or simply killing time. There is also, of course, the official Star Wars Databank!
STAR WARS GALAXY MAP. A fantastic project that maps the Star Wars galaxy as we know it. Consider donating ( if you can! ) to help keep the site up and running! Also check out W.R. van Hageâs map and the Star Wars Atlas Online Companion.
TIMELINE. While hosted on Wookieepedia, this is nevertheless deserving of its own bullet point. This page provides an approximate timeline with dates of all canon material. You can also filter items, so that it displays only TV episodes, for example, or only books, or only movies! Find the Legends timeline here.
STAR WARS SLANG AND PHRASES. A collection Iâve been keeping of phases, slang, idioms, insults, and more from the Star Wars universe. This also contains a glossary of frequently used terms, such as ârefresherâ in place of ârestroomâ. Please feel free to use/share!Â
STAR WARS NAME GENERATOR. This is a fun one AND a life saver. You can generate up to 100 Star Wars-sounding names ( first and last! ) with a click.Â
OTHER GENERATORS:Â
Spaceship names as well as spaceship type/models
Earth-like alien planets for any alien planet you donât have info on
Random landscapes, see above
Technobabble generator for when you need a reason for a red alert
Alien plant/herb/flower name generator. Also:Â mineral/metal/gemstone names, material names, medication names, and descriptions of alien substances
Scifi tool names for gadgets and gizmos
OTHER WEBSITES:
Jeff Russellâs Starship Dimensions, Dirk Loechelâs Sci-fi Spaceship Size Comparisons, and other Star Wars Deckplans
Only vaguely related to my new mission of making people realize that Count Dooku is hot actually, I started listening to a audio drama that had apparently been released a few years ago called âDooku: Jedi Lostâ. It recounts much of the countâs early life and his relationship with the Jedi Order and members of his birth family.
I had originally started listening to it for an entirely different reason to better understand him and Ventress as charactersâand itâs actually really interesting! If your library has it or youâre able to listen to it otherwise, itâs a very well-scripted and voiced work!
Series Summary: An AU where clone squads are sometimes assigned an Emotional Support Partner who is equal parts counselor, mediator (and spouse) in order to keep morale and loyalty as high as possibleâsomebody gets a job and at least several fairly loyal not-on-paper-but-you-know husbands, while the squadron of clones are less inclined to do things that, you know, make accidental babies happen.
Featured Clones: Domino Squad (Hevy & Cutup)
Rating: Explicit
Itâs⌠quiet. Almost. Even with the sound of the music echoing from the command deck and the boys in various states of jokes and bickering, itâs somehow still⌠quiet, in a fashion.
Though you want to use it, peaceful isnât really the right wordâthe Rishi moon outpost exists solely as an early warning system in the case of Separatist invasion, so you suppose that life on it can never quite be truly âpeacefulâ by the most traditional of definitions. Always waiting for an attack, always worried that youâd wake up to the sound of blaring alarms and blaster shots; the anxiety never quite left the back of your thoughts.
Of course, you literally signed up for a life like this; the officers handling your papers in the Companion Program had been very overt in what would be expected if you decided to be with Domino Squad. Their assignment to the outpost arrived quickly after graduating from Kamino, and your arrival was all but scarcely afterwards.
That had been a while ago, and you had long-since lost track of the days when it became apparent that the Rishi Moon Outpost was⌠less than active, which is technically a good thing. The boys call it boringâor, most of them do. Hevy and Cutup tend to be the first to grumble whenever someone brought it up, but Echo never seems bothered.
Youâre always catching him with a holopad in his hands and, without fail, he wants to ramble to you about some obscure regulation or rule that youâd never realized existed. His current policy obsession seems to be the Companion Program, and you do have to admit he helped you figure out quite a lot in just the first few weeks of knowing him. The manâs ability to memorize information was fantastic.
âDid you know that, technically, you are part of the chain of command?â he had asked one day over dinner, a bland mix of rations and shipped fresh goods that only came once a month.
You of course didnât know such information, but Echo had been ecstatic to tell you about it. He shot off immediately into a ramble about various details of the program you doubted anyone else would find even a quarter as interesting.
But that was several days ago, though the memory still felt fresh enough with how little did genuinely seem to happen from one day to the nextâand today you are âhelpingâ to keep an eye on the security cameras with Hevy and Cutup. âHelpingâ of course is in the loosest sense of the word, given the fact that you technically have no obligation to do the same job as any clone in your assigned squadron. But, like many spouses in a similar position outside of the front-lines, you try to do so anyway⌠even if the job is as entertaining as watching grass grow.
âAt least the meteor showers break things up,â you offer, waving a hand towards the console, âSo you canât say thereâs nothing that happens here.â
The next wave of raining rocks would be in an hour of course, though the only thing different to do for the two men manning the station is press the button to activate the facilityâs shields.
Hevy rolls his eyes. âBaby,â he says, voice almost cooing the pet name heâd started calling you, âyouâre starting to sound like Echo.â
You glance at him for a moment as your lips curl into a smile.
âSo what if I am?â
âThen that means I should start callinâ you Echo-2.â
âMaybe jusâ âTwoâ,â Cutup offers with a chuckle. âItâll stick much better that way.â
âYouâre right,â Hevy agrees with a nod of his head and a smirk on his lips. âAnd then weâll hafta tell Echo himself when he wakes up.â
In almost any other situation, youâd be touched to get a nickname from your squad. Names were a precious thing, after all, and earning a nickname as a spouse is no less important than a clone earning their ownâitâs not something youâd expect an outsider to understand the subtleties of.
But, as much as youâd be touched otherwise, their teasing is obvious. You feel your cheeks go red-hot as the two clones laugh, but Hevyâs gentle hand on your shoulder keeps the feelings of embarrassment from getting too sharp against your thoughts.
âWeâre not really gonna start callinâ you that, baby.â
âIt would be the silliest nickname ever,â you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. âEven Droidbaitâs name sounds like it has a better story behind it.â
âNot really!â comes a call from across the room, where the namesake clone sits at another monitoring station.
The three of you laugh together with Droidbaitâs answer, a moment of gentle absurdity breaking up the otherwise dull hours of the shift at the consoles. If nothing else, your presence seems to be offering entertainment to Hevy and Cutup both, which are particularly bothered by the concept of boredom.
A few minutes pass without a word to break up the silence, just the gentle beeping of the monitoring station and the occasional song humming through the outer-rim broadcast that Droidbait has playing from one of the speakers.
Itâs⌠quiet again, as it always is in the background of things. Thereâs scarcely a thing to do but stare at the empty screen and feel a gentle lull of drowsiness start to tug at your eyesâso you shouldnât have been surprised when Hevy started to get handsy.
Heâs had a hand on your shoulders since the moment you decided to sit down with him and lean into his side, so you donât notice when that hand shifts from idly stroking the back of your neck and instead starts curling around your body so that his fingertips are at your throat, then slipping beneath the collar of your shirt to stroke your collarbone, then sternum, then-
Your body jumps almost instinctively when his fingertips pinch one of your nipples.
âHm?â Hevy says, acting as if totally unaware. âSomething wrong?â
You stiffen your back and reach a hand up to touch where his is /clearly/ still half in your shirt, eyes locked with his.
âHevy,â you say, expression mixed between surprise and embarrassment while you try not to think about how he keeps teasing you between a thumb and forefinger, âyou are actively on a shift.â
âReally? I havenât noticed,â he turns his gaze momentarily to a screen showing the empty swath of the moonâs landscape, pockmarked by previous meteor showers. Afterwards his eyes turn back to you.
They are absolutely mischievous.
You are desperate not to let his touch break your firm expressionânot of non-consent, just flushed-face judgement.
âI swear, if sergeant Oâniner catches youâŚâ
âHeâs busy on the other side of the outpost with Fives,â Hevy purrs, his hand getting bolder as he gropes at your chest with open interest. âBesides, if he really gets mad then Iâll take all the blame.â
There's a gentle couch beside both of you, and your eyes quickly turn to see Cutup watching with eager interest. He raises a brow and chuckles.
âIf I take half of thâblame, can I get in on half the action?â
âFuck yeah,â Hevy answers before you can even open your mouth. âLast I checked, sharing is quite the virtueâwouldnât you agree babydoll?â
âI didnât-â you fumble for words, warm face growing even hotter as the man turns so that both hands are actively trying to remove your shirt. âThis is a horrible idea. Why /here/?â
âYou said it yâself,â Cutup coos, his voice suddenly much closer to your ear, âWeâre on duty. Canât leave the console âcause someoneâs gotta keep an eye on it.â
âWell, if only one of us needs to be lookingâŚâ Hevyâs words trail off, but you can imagine that he and Cutup are sharing a look with one anotherâa horrible, dreadful, mischievous look.
It doesnât take them more than a minute, tops, in order to get your shirt off. Itâs lined with an anti-blaster material, but offers just as much resistance as you do in slipping it over your head: absolutely none. For all you protest, there really isnât a sizeable part of you that doesnât want to give into the cloneâs hormonal urge. There is something a bit hot in getting fucked like this admittedly, in the open of the command room. You can feel Cutupâs eyes watching every motion as he sits back in his chair, glancing only occasionally at the observation feed from outside while Hevy continues to run his hands over your naked chest and purr in your ear.
âYou must really wanna get fucked like this if youâre not stoppinâ me, baby.â
The petname sounds positively lascivious when he says it like that, voice so low that itâs nearly a growl. His hands roam further down, until theyâre playing at the top hem of your pants and slowly undoing the belt holding them upâthe joy of clothes for spouses often being too small or too large, simply depending on what was available.
While Hevy is messing with that, Cutup leans forward in his chair and props his chin on the heel of his palm.
âCâmon, sweetheart, give us an answer.â
â⌠pleaseâŚâ
âWhatâs that?â Hevy asks, lips brushing the back of your ear. âThought I heard somethinâ.â And just to make a point, he pulls his hands away from where theyâve practically undone your pants, just one movement shy of stripping your body of clothes from the stifling heat.
The soft noise of dismay you make must have been arousing, because both men stare at you like starving animals, pupils blown wide and their breathing quick. They look at one another as if confirming that to be a positive answer before you finally whine and pull Hevyâs hand back towards your pants.
âYes,â you whisper, mouth suddenly feeling quite dry. âPlease, take me like this. Here.â
âThe man seems all too eager to remove the last bit of clothing from your body, leaving the layers in a pool of cloth at the base of the consoles and chairs. Before you can even breath youâre sitting on Hevyâs lap, his strong arms tugging you so that your back is to his chest and your hips precariously grinding back into a hard shape swiftly realized to be his cock. When the man had the time to undress you, remove the plastoid plate between his thighs and undue the fasteners, youâre not quite sureâand at this point, youâre just grateful to feel his naked flesh against your own.
âCâmere, baby,â the man coos in your ear, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other is out of sightâyouâre not sure what heâs doing with it until he brings bare, gloveless fingers tips to your lips. âWhy donât you get these wet?â
You allow them with silent consent between your lips and against your tongue, sucking on Hevyâs fingers albeit sloppily as he purred dirty, half-heard whispers in your ear while grinding his cock between your thighs. The ache in your belly has twisted into something truly horrible, a need so strong that the mere debauchery of the moment is enough to make your nerves feel raw. Your tongue presses between the two fingers in your mouth, trying desperately to make them split-slick enough to meet the manâs satisfaction; it doesnât take more than a minute before heâs gently pulling them back out, gleaming wet with saliva.
âGood job,â he murmurs, appreciatively. âWanna make sure we get you wet enough for me, babydoll.â
His words send a shiver down your spineâfor all his rugged personality, Hevy was never anything but a gentleman to you, even in moments like this. He seems to know all the buttons to push to make you need him all the more.
Still with one arm wrapped around you, his other moves down between your legs, fingertips prodding gently at your entrance. The spit may have not been entirely necessary in terms of lubricant, but it certainly did help in terms of arousal; you need him so much, want him so dearly, itâs hard not to shiver when Hevy finally dips his fingers inside of your body and harder still not to moan his name too loudly.
âWouldâja look at that,â Cutup says, his voice bringing you back into the moment. Your eyes shoot open (not realizing they were closed) and upon a glance to the other side of the console chairs, you find the man equally disrobed as Hevyâcock out and wrapped in a gloveless hand. Heâs stroking it over carefully as his eyes linger over your body, hungry like a predator.
He smirks even wider when he sees you looking. âDonâtcha you worry now, sweetheart, youâll get your turn on me soon enough.â
Oh. Oh. You had known somewhere in the back of your head that you would wind up taking care of both Hevy AND Cutupâit simply came with the territory of being in a polyamorous relationship with several men under a lot of stressâbut you didnât think about the /how/. Somehow, the idea of being passed between them, used and watched like a toy and show, it only made you more aroused. Your skin prickled with nervous desire, your heart racing and your belly hot and twisting with eagerness that only grows the longer you watch Cutup stroke himself while watching you.
You smile at him as best you can, face hot but body knowing exactly what to do in the moment as Hevyâs careful fingers ease your body open.
âYou good, baby?â He asks gently. You nod, arms reaching so that youâre almost hugging yourself where his arm is around you already. Hevy breaths out, and then growls, âGood. Need tâ make sure youâre ready to take my cockâdonât wanna be breaking our precious little spouse now.â
He slides in with relative ease. Though the working of his wet fingers had helped a little, itâs mostly your arousal and need that helps him slide balls deep within the aching grip of your body.
Hevy wastes no time to start thrusting; the motions are hard, slow, and deep, angled so that they are almost perfectly striking what feels like a deep bundle of nerves desperate for stimulation. As if that isnât enough, his free hand reaches down between your thighs and reminds you, keenly, of how deftly those fingers are with the many weapons he likes to train with.
You moan, words a garbled mess of need, and hold his arm around you in a desperate need to be anchored.
âYeah, yeahâhold onto me, babydollâŚâ Hevy purrs, voice straining. âTell me how much you want me.â
â⌠HevyâŚâ the sound of his name is a whisper. Youâre getting closer, closerâand then, suddenly, the man stops moving. His cock sits inside of you.
âSay it louder,â he growls. The words are firm, a command. Youâre hesitant to speak much louder if only out of embarrassment, not wanting to draw attention towards the carnal act of desperation you are partaking in with Hevy and Cutupâbut the need to orgasm outweighs the nervousness.
âHevy,â you whine, âPlease, Hevy, make me cumââ lungs burn with a need for air, your breathing too quick and shallow. âHevy, Hevy, Hevyyy-!â
âPerfect,â he murmurs, then immediately begins moving his hips againâso fast and hard that it makes the chair squeak beneath the weight of both of you. No more than ten seconds pass before both of you are cresting over orgasm, the sweet blossom of heat coming unfurled with a shout into the cold air of the outpost.
The man growls as he presses inside you one last time, deep and possessive, and fills you with his seed that you donât need to think twice about for one reason or another and enjoy the messy warmth all the same. Hevy takes a few moments to press a kiss to the nape of your neck, then carefully helps to lift your hips enough that his cock slips out from you.
Youâre not able to take more than a moment to think before Cutup, who has pushed his chair closer to you, reaches out a hand and carefully takes your chin in his hand.
âDoinâ alright?â He asks, tone delicate with concern. The nod of your head confirms that youâre alright, simply tired from the orgasm and settled in the sweet afterglow.
With one hand still stroking his cock over, Cutup smirks and pulls your face towards his so that he can kiss youâitâs deep and needy. âLilâ sweetheart lookinâ all tuckered out. Donât worry then, Iâll do all the work for you.â
It doesnât take much for the two men to shift you from one lap into another. Youâve seen their strength firsthand, their bodies perfected physically and biologically to handle gear and weapons that must have weight as much or more as you do. Cutup positions you comfortably astride his hips, and it doesnât take much effort for his cock to slip inside you, your orgasm leaving muscles lax and Hevyâs orgasm leaving you dripping wet.
He was honest about doing all the work; Cutupâs hands hold your hips firm, but gentle, lifting you just enough so that his own body can close the gap between you over and over again as he races towards his own orgasm. You donât think that youâll be able to cum again, but thereâs a satisfaction in feeling the man inside you and knowing that you are making him feel so good.
âCutup,â you lean forward and whisper in his ear, voice low and sweet. âOh, Cutupâpleaseâwonât you cum inside me too?â
The poor thing must have been so pent-up watching you and Hevy fuck, because thatâs all it takes for him to find release. You feel his grip tense on your skin, his motions go stiff and desperate, and the telltale warmth of his orgasm flooding your channel. It drips down your thighs in thick pearly droplets when you shakily pull yourself off of him, a dopey smile on both of your faces all the while.
âWell,â Hevy says, âthatâs always a good way to waste some time nâ take the edge off.â
âYou turn to look at him, and heâs already seemed to compose himself againâplastoid plate back in its spot, gloves on and even your clothes collected and laying in his lap as neatly as he could gather them up.
The smile on your lips is fueled a bit by the afterglow, but you laugh and raise a brow, âI think you should give me more credit than that.â
âI can say you always make my shifts at observation a helluva lot more interesting.â
A moment passes in silence before, suddenly, a forgotten fourth party in the room finally speaks up.
âSo uh,â Droidbait says evenly from his faithful spot at another console, âyou guys are done⌠right?â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Series Summary: An AU where clone squads are sometimes assigned an Emotional Support Partner who is equal parts counselor, mediator (and spouse) in order to keep morale and loyalty as high as possibleâsomebody gets a job and at least several fairly loyal not-on-paper-but-you-know husbands, while the squadron of clones are less inclined to do things that, you know, make accidental babies happen.
Featured Clones: Domino Squad (Hevy & Cutup)
Rating: Explicit
Itâs⌠quiet. Almost. Even with the sound of the music echoing from the command deck and the boys in various states of jokes and bickering, itâs somehow still⌠quiet, in a fashion.
Though you want to use it, peaceful isnât really the right wordâthe Rishi moon outpost exists solely as an early warning system in the case of Separatist invasion, so you suppose that life on it can never quite be truly âpeacefulâ by the most traditional of definitions. Always waiting for an attack, always worried that youâd wake up to the sound of blaring alarms and blaster shots; the anxiety never quite left the back of your thoughts.
Of course, you literally signed up for a life like this; the officers handling your papers in the Companion Program had been very overt in what would be expected if you decided to be with Domino Squad. Their assignment to the outpost arrived quickly after graduating from Kamino, and your arrival was all but scarcely afterwards.
That had been a while ago, and you had long-since lost track of the days when it became apparent that the Rishi Moon Outpost was⌠less than active, which is technically a good thing. The boys call it boringâor, most of them do. Hevy and Cutup tend to be the first to grumble whenever someone brought it up, but Echo never seems bothered.
Youâre always catching him with a holopad in his hands and, without fail, he wants to ramble to you about some obscure regulation or rule that youâd never realized existed. His current policy obsession seems to be the Companion Program, and you do have to admit he helped you figure out quite a lot in just the first few weeks of knowing him. The manâs ability to memorize information was fantastic.
âDid you know that, technically, you are part of the chain of command?â he had asked one day over dinner, a bland mix of rations and shipped fresh goods that only came once a month.
You of course didnât know such information, but Echo had been ecstatic to tell you about it. He shot off immediately into a ramble about various details of the program you doubted anyone else would find even a quarter as interesting.
But that was several days ago, though the memory still felt fresh enough with how little did genuinely seem to happen from one day to the nextâand today you are âhelpingâ to keep an eye on the security cameras with Hevy and Cutup. âHelpingâ of course is in the loosest sense of the word, given the fact that you technically have no obligation to do the same job as any clone in your assigned squadron. But, like many spouses in a similar position outside of the front-lines, you try to do so anyway⌠even if the job is as entertaining as watching grass grow.
âAt least the meteor showers break things up,â you offer, waving a hand towards the console, âSo you canât say thereâs nothing that happens here.â
The next wave of raining rocks would be in an hour of course, though the only thing different to do for the two men manning the station is press the button to activate the facilityâs shields.
Hevy rolls his eyes. âBaby,â he says, voice almost cooing the pet name heâd started calling you, âyouâre starting to sound like Echo.â
You glance at him for a moment as your lips curl into a smile.
âSo what if I am?â
âThen that means I should start callinâ you Echo-2.â
âMaybe jusâ âTwoâ,â Cutup offers with a chuckle. âItâll stick much better that way.â
âYouâre right,â Hevy agrees with a nod of his head and a smirk on his lips. âAnd then weâll hafta tell Echo himself when he wakes up.â
In almost any other situation, youâd be touched to get a nickname from your squad. Names were a precious thing, after all, and earning a nickname as a spouse is no less important than a clone earning their ownâitâs not something youâd expect an outsider to understand the subtleties of.
But, as much as youâd be touched otherwise, their teasing is obvious. You feel your cheeks go red-hot as the two clones laugh, but Hevyâs gentle hand on your shoulder keeps the feelings of embarrassment from getting too sharp against your thoughts.
âWeâre not really gonna start callinâ you that, baby.â
âIt would be the silliest nickname ever,â you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. âEven Droidbaitâs name sounds like it has a better story behind it.â
âNot really!â comes a call from across the room, where the namesake clone sits at another monitoring station.
The three of you laugh together with Droidbaitâs answer, a moment of gentle absurdity breaking up the otherwise dull hours of the shift at the consoles. If nothing else, your presence seems to be offering entertainment to Hevy and Cutup both, which are particularly bothered by the concept of boredom.
A few minutes pass without a word to break up the silence, just the gentle beeping of the monitoring station and the occasional song humming through the outer-rim broadcast that Droidbait has playing from one of the speakers.
Itâs⌠quiet again, as it always is in the background of things. Thereâs scarcely a thing to do but stare at the empty screen and feel a gentle lull of drowsiness start to tug at your eyesâso you shouldnât have been surprised when Hevy started to get handsy.
Heâs had a hand on your shoulders since the moment you decided to sit down with him and lean into his side, so you donât notice when that hand shifts from idly stroking the back of your neck and instead starts curling around your body so that his fingertips are at your throat, then slipping beneath the collar of your shirt to stroke your collarbone, then sternum, then-
Your body jumps almost instinctively when his fingertips pinch one of your nipples.
âHm?â Hevy says, acting as if totally unaware. âSomething wrong?â
You stiffen your back and reach a hand up to touch where his is /clearly/ still half in your shirt, eyes locked with his.
âHevy,â you say, expression mixed between surprise and embarrassment while you try not to think about how he keeps teasing you between a thumb and forefinger, âyou are actively on a shift.â
âReally? I havenât noticed,â he turns his gaze momentarily to a screen showing the empty swath of the moonâs landscape, pockmarked by previous meteor showers. Afterwards his eyes turn back to you.
They are absolutely mischievous.
You are desperate not to let his touch break your firm expressionânot of non-consent, just flushed-face judgement.
âI swear, if sergeant Oâniner catches youâŚâ
âHeâs busy on the other side of the outpost with Fives,â Hevy purrs, his hand getting bolder as he gropes at your chest with open interest. âBesides, if he really gets mad then Iâll take all the blame.â
There's a gentle couch beside both of you, and your eyes quickly turn to see Cutup watching with eager interest. He raises a brow and chuckles.
âIf I take half of thâblame, can I get in on half the action?â
âFuck yeah,â Hevy answers before you can even open your mouth. âLast I checked, sharing is quite the virtueâwouldnât you agree babydoll?â
âI didnât-â you fumble for words, warm face growing even hotter as the man turns so that both hands are actively trying to remove your shirt. âThis is a horrible idea. Why /here/?â
âYou said it yâself,â Cutup coos, his voice suddenly much closer to your ear, âWeâre on duty. Canât leave the console âcause someoneâs gotta keep an eye on it.â
âWell, if only one of us needs to be lookingâŚâ Hevyâs words trail off, but you can imagine that he and Cutup are sharing a look with one anotherâa horrible, dreadful, mischievous look.
It doesnât take them more than a minute, tops, in order to get your shirt off. Itâs lined with an anti-blaster material, but offers just as much resistance as you do in slipping it over your head: absolutely none. For all you protest, there really isnât a sizeable part of you that doesnât want to give into the cloneâs hormonal urge. There is something a bit hot in getting fucked like this admittedly, in the open of the command room. You can feel Cutupâs eyes watching every motion as he sits back in his chair, glancing only occasionally at the observation feed from outside while Hevy continues to run his hands over your naked chest and purr in your ear.
âYou must really wanna get fucked like this if youâre not stoppinâ me, baby.â
The petname sounds positively lascivious when he says it like that, voice so low that itâs nearly a growl. His hands roam further down, until theyâre playing at the top hem of your pants and slowly undoing the belt holding them upâthe joy of clothes for spouses often being too small or too large, simply depending on what was available.
While Hevy is messing with that, Cutup leans forward in his chair and props his chin on the heel of his palm.
âCâmon, sweetheart, give us an answer.â
â⌠pleaseâŚâ
âWhatâs that?â Hevy asks, lips brushing the back of your ear. âThought I heard somethinâ.â And just to make a point, he pulls his hands away from where theyâve practically undone your pants, just one movement shy of stripping your body of clothes from the stifling heat.
The soft noise of dismay you make must have been arousing, because both men stare at you like starving animals, pupils blown wide and their breathing quick. They look at one another as if confirming that to be a positive answer before you finally whine and pull Hevyâs hand back towards your pants.
âYes,â you whisper, mouth suddenly feeling quite dry. âPlease, take me like this. Here.â
âThe man seems all too eager to remove the last bit of clothing from your body, leaving the layers in a pool of cloth at the base of the consoles and chairs. Before you can even breath youâre sitting on Hevyâs lap, his strong arms tugging you so that your back is to his chest and your hips precariously grinding back into a hard shape swiftly realized to be his cock. When the man had the time to undress you, remove the plastoid plate between his thighs and undue the fasteners, youâre not quite sureâand at this point, youâre just grateful to feel his naked flesh against your own.
âCâmere, baby,â the man coos in your ear, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other is out of sightâyouâre not sure what heâs doing with it until he brings bare, gloveless fingers tips to your lips. âWhy donât you get these wet?â
You allow them with silent consent between your lips and against your tongue, sucking on Hevyâs fingers albeit sloppily as he purred dirty, half-heard whispers in your ear while grinding his cock between your thighs. The ache in your belly has twisted into something truly horrible, a need so strong that the mere debauchery of the moment is enough to make your nerves feel raw. Your tongue presses between the two fingers in your mouth, trying desperately to make them split-slick enough to meet the manâs satisfaction; it doesnât take more than a minute before heâs gently pulling them back out, gleaming wet with saliva.
âGood job,â he murmurs, appreciatively. âWanna make sure we get you wet enough for me, babydoll.â
His words send a shiver down your spineâfor all his rugged personality, Hevy was never anything but a gentleman to you, even in moments like this. He seems to know all the buttons to push to make you need him all the more.
Still with one arm wrapped around you, his other moves down between your legs, fingertips prodding gently at your entrance. The spit may have not been entirely necessary in terms of lubricant, but it certainly did help in terms of arousal; you need him so much, want him so dearly, itâs hard not to shiver when Hevy finally dips his fingers inside of your body and harder still not to moan his name too loudly.
âWouldâja look at that,â Cutup says, his voice bringing you back into the moment. Your eyes shoot open (not realizing they were closed) and upon a glance to the other side of the console chairs, you find the man equally disrobed as Hevyâcock out and wrapped in a gloveless hand. Heâs stroking it over carefully as his eyes linger over your body, hungry like a predator.
He smirks even wider when he sees you looking. âDonâtcha you worry now, sweetheart, youâll get your turn on me soon enough.â
Oh. Oh. You had known somewhere in the back of your head that you would wind up taking care of both Hevy AND Cutupâit simply came with the territory of being in a polyamorous relationship with several men under a lot of stressâbut you didnât think about the /how/. Somehow, the idea of being passed between them, used and watched like a toy and show, it only made you more aroused. Your skin prickled with nervous desire, your heart racing and your belly hot and twisting with eagerness that only grows the longer you watch Cutup stroke himself while watching you.
You smile at him as best you can, face hot but body knowing exactly what to do in the moment as Hevyâs careful fingers ease your body open.
âYou good, baby?â He asks gently. You nod, arms reaching so that youâre almost hugging yourself where his arm is around you already. Hevy breaths out, and then growls, âGood. Need tâ make sure youâre ready to take my cockâdonât wanna be breaking our precious little spouse now.â
He slides in with relative ease. Though the working of his wet fingers had helped a little, itâs mostly your arousal and need that helps him slide balls deep within the aching grip of your body.
Hevy wastes no time to start thrusting; the motions are hard, slow, and deep, angled so that they are almost perfectly striking what feels like a deep bundle of nerves desperate for stimulation. As if that isnât enough, his free hand reaches down between your thighs and reminds you, keenly, of how deftly those fingers are with the many weapons he likes to train with.
You moan, words a garbled mess of need, and hold his arm around you in a desperate need to be anchored.
âYeah, yeahâhold onto me, babydollâŚâ Hevy purrs, voice straining. âTell me how much you want me.â
â⌠HevyâŚâ the sound of his name is a whisper. Youâre getting closer, closerâand then, suddenly, the man stops moving. His cock sits inside of you.
âSay it louder,â he growls. The words are firm, a command. Youâre hesitant to speak much louder if only out of embarrassment, not wanting to draw attention towards the carnal act of desperation you are partaking in with Hevy and Cutupâbut the need to orgasm outweighs the nervousness.
âHevy,â you whine, âPlease, Hevy, make me cumââ lungs burn with a need for air, your breathing too quick and shallow. âHevy, Hevy, Hevyyy-!â
âPerfect,â he murmurs, then immediately begins moving his hips againâso fast and hard that it makes the chair squeak beneath the weight of both of you. No more than ten seconds pass before both of you are cresting over orgasm, the sweet blossom of heat coming unfurled with a shout into the cold air of the outpost.
The man growls as he presses inside you one last time, deep and possessive, and fills you with his seed that you donât need to think twice about for one reason or another and enjoy the messy warmth all the same. Hevy takes a few moments to press a kiss to the nape of your neck, then carefully helps to lift your hips enough that his cock slips out from you.
Youâre not able to take more than a moment to think before Cutup, who has pushed his chair closer to you, reaches out a hand and carefully takes your chin in his hand.
âDoinâ alright?â He asks, tone delicate with concern. The nod of your head confirms that youâre alright, simply tired from the orgasm and settled in the sweet afterglow.
With one hand still stroking his cock over, Cutup smirks and pulls your face towards his so that he can kiss youâitâs deep and needy. âLilâ sweetheart lookinâ all tuckered out. Donât worry then, Iâll do all the work for you.â
It doesnât take much for the two men to shift you from one lap into another. Youâve seen their strength firsthand, their bodies perfected physically and biologically to handle gear and weapons that must have weight as much or more as you do. Cutup positions you comfortably astride his hips, and it doesnât take much effort for his cock to slip inside you, your orgasm leaving muscles lax and Hevyâs orgasm leaving you dripping wet.
He was honest about doing all the work; Cutupâs hands hold your hips firm, but gentle, lifting you just enough so that his own body can close the gap between you over and over again as he races towards his own orgasm. You donât think that youâll be able to cum again, but thereâs a satisfaction in feeling the man inside you and knowing that you are making him feel so good.
âCutup,â you lean forward and whisper in his ear, voice low and sweet. âOh, Cutupâpleaseâwonât you cum inside me too?â
The poor thing must have been so pent-up watching you and Hevy fuck, because thatâs all it takes for him to find release. You feel his grip tense on your skin, his motions go stiff and desperate, and the telltale warmth of his orgasm flooding your channel. It drips down your thighs in thick pearly droplets when you shakily pull yourself off of him, a dopey smile on both of your faces all the while.
âWell,â Hevy says, âthatâs always a good way to waste some time nâ take the edge off.â
âYou turn to look at him, and heâs already seemed to compose himself againâplastoid plate back in its spot, gloves on and even your clothes collected and laying in his lap as neatly as he could gather them up.
The smile on your lips is fueled a bit by the afterglow, but you laugh and raise a brow, âI think you should give me more credit than that.â
âI can say you always make my shifts at observation a helluva lot more interesting.â
A moment passes in silence before, suddenly, a forgotten fourth party in the room finally speaks up.
âSo uh,â Droidbait says evenly from his faithful spot at another console, âyou guys are done⌠right?â
So Iâve known for a while that the leader of my original clone squad (Umbra) just so happens to share his name with a certain clone commando, and Iâve always wondered if I should change my cloneâs nickname to be something elseâsomething just changed enough to differentiate him from the canonical character. Gotten some great options too!
But on the OTHER hand I find it almost hilarious that he would have to constantly tell people âMy nameâs Scorch. No waitânot that one, not the cool commando one, but the Scorch who got his name âcause he was an idiot that got toasted by a blast on Geonosis.â That is entirely on-brand for his form of vaguely self-depreciating humor to see himself as the âPerfectly good Scorch we have at homeâ as opposed to anything else.
Like Scorch, buddy, clones can share names, and also please go to therapy.
Because you gave me a modicum of an excuse, please take some headcanons (facts? Canon?) about Umbra Squad:
Pinpoint is 90% mute by choice, opting only to speak when absolutely necessary and often instead with a version of sign language or signaling otherwise used in combat scenarios where communications are limited. Dreadnaught can understand him best, and the two are very close because of thatâDreadnaught is often a bit overprotective of his brothers, especially with Pinpoint and Screwloose.
Speaking of, Screwloose is probably one of the biggest sweethearts youâll ever meet. He got his name because heâs gotten knocked out over a dozen times from explosives or some such accidents, and he gets headaches often because of it (though nobody can really figure out how heâs getting them).
Screwloose would also make an excellent father because he adores children, and if asked, all he wants to do after the war is over is to raise a family to call his own, maybe even open up a home for whatever young clone cadets are still on Kamino.
If youâre looking for a bad boy with a heart of gold, then Icepick is your man. So named because his words are sharp and his wit sharper still, he doesnât mince words and will always give information straightâhe thinks itâs pointless to beat around the bush.
That said, you will not find a better person to keep a secret; Icepick can lie for you like a used speeder salesman and has absolutely no moral issues doing so if he cares about or is loyal to you.
I donât know how gender is accepted in the Clone Army, but if itâs a Thing in any capacity then Ratchet is absolutely non-binary using he/him pronouns.
Scorch or Screwloose is the most romantic and would take you on a date first, but Dreadnaught or Icepick is likely to fuck you in the car on your way to the date.
So Iâve known for a while that the leader of my original clone squad (Umbra) just so happens to share his name with a certain clone commando, and Iâve always wondered if I should change my cloneâs nickname to be something elseâsomething just changed enough to differentiate him from the canonical character. Gotten some great options too!
But on the OTHER hand I find it almost hilarious that he would have to constantly tell people âMy nameâs Scorch. No waitânot that one, not the cool commando one, but the Scorch who got his name âcause he was an idiot that got toasted by a blast on Geonosis.â That is entirely on-brand for his form of vaguely self-depreciating humor to see himself as the âPerfectly good Scorch we have at homeâ as opposed to anything else.
Like Scorch, buddy, clones can share names, and also please go to therapy.
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Don't suppose anyone knows about any Star Wars discord servers out there, specifically one about the Clone Wars/clones? I have a whole squadron of mine I'd like to ramble about mercilessly and likewise would love to learn about other people's ocs and whatnot in the Clone Wars fandom community!
God I feel old and the fact this show was technically almost 15 years running isn't heLPING
Ooh, and for the AU prompt -- how about a royalty au? No specific characters in mind!
This AU would take place in an ambiguously late medieval/early modern time period, wherein the Republic is in fact just a section of the government and is in fact ruled by the Chancellorâwho is elected as normalâand a king or queen born into power through their family line. Both sides of the government are under the protection of the Je'daii, a powerful sect of knights whom follow an unwavering code in order to protect those who rule a large portion of the world.
The separatists are the members of countries who have, as in canon, found fault and corruption in the Republicâs politics, and want to rule themselves. They argue that the might of the republic barely stretches beyond their inner-most cities and Talley together beneath Count Dooku, an ex-Jedi knight and secretly the apprentice of Darth Sideous, who himself seeks to overthrow the Republic and murder the royal family in order to take total control.
I argue that there is some level of steampunk technomagic, as the force still exists to some degree even in this sort of AU. The battle droids of the Separatists are steam-powered automatons, for example, and the clones of the clone wars are created by the enigmatic magic-using Kaminoans who reside far into the ocean and find dealing with humans particularly loathsome.
Perhaps to some degree, lightsaber still exist, but are seen as very powerful and very rare pieces of technology powered only by the force--so only the highest rank of Jedi are able and allowed to wield them, as it takes extreme skill in the force to be able to activate it. This keeps lightsabers out of untrained hands, but also creates a wall of unknowns around the Je'daii order...
If this AU was featured in a fic, then the current heir to the throne would be the reader, who themselves are constantly having to worry about assassination from some group or another. Lots of people would love to see the royal family change, as it's otherwise been ruling for many long generations, always protected by the Je'daii.
send me an au and iâll give you 5+ headcanons about it
Series Summary: An AU where clone squads are sometimes assigned an Emotional Support Partner who is equal parts counselor, mediator (and spouse) in order to keep morale and loyalty as high as possibleâsomebody gets a job and at least several fairly loyal not-on-paper-but-you-know husbands, while the squadron of clones are less inclined to do things that, you know, make accidental babies happen.
Featured Clones: Umbra Squad (OCs)
Rating: Teen
Read on AO3
To call the moment nerve-wracking is an understatement. It would be like calling a new star warm or a vast ocean wetâcompletely blindsiding with the immense weight of reality. You had expected to be introduced to the squadron properly, yes, but not⌠like this.
Not all of them at once.
Maybe Scorch, the squad leader, had misinterpreted your demeanor as excitement or contentedness. Maybe he didnât think about how your nerves were tugging at your tongue and softening your words, or how he was plenty familiar with his brothers-in-arms already while you had just scarcely been introduced to the man himself.
Nevertheless, the entirety of the squadron piles into the rec room like a herd of excited puppies, all laying curious eyes on you the moment they hurry inside, until there are nine more people in the room with youânine more people you barely know, and yet were told that you match up perfectly for.
âUhâŚâ you try to find the words somewhere in the back of your head. âHello⌠thereâŚâ You reach up and wave slightly, just a little gesture of a hand.
Scorch introduces you by name with a respectful bow of his head and a gesture towards you. Even in the ten minutes or so of being able to speak to him privately, you can tell he is genuinely a good man; a little energetic and overly humorous about his own shortcomings, though you figure that must be due in part due to the huge burn scar that covers one side of his face. He had explained it had come from the first battle of Geonosis, the fire from an explosion had caught him without the helmet offering much help, apparently.
Ironic name aside, Scorch seems overjoyed at the thought of he and his squadron being matched in the Companion program.
The rest of his squad? Itâs hard to tell. Their expressions arenât nearly as readable, and each one holding a different look in their eyesâone of them was still wearing their helmet and was leaning against the back wall, arms crossed. You think for a moment that theyâre entirely unmoved by the situation until they wave a hand and chuckle.
âSo if youâre sâpose to be our uh, spouse-â
âTechnically the right term is âcompanionâ, Icepick.â
âFuck that.â The faceless trooper huffs, then turns so you can clearly see your reflection in the darkness of the visor and says, âBut does that mean we gotta call you things like âdarlingâ and âsweetheartâ?â
âWell, I meanââ you swallow down the rock in your throat. âYou can just call me whatever you like! My name is a good starting point, though I mean⌠a nickname could work. My friends used to call me-â
âAround these parts, you earn a nickname,â Icepick says, as sharp as his name. âAnd if you do somethinâ stupid or badass enough, then youâll get one. Until then, youâre just a Civi.â
âCiviâŚ?â
âHe means âcivilianâ,â this time, one of the other clones replyâthe one who had tried to correct Icepick before. He doesnât have any tattoos or markings to differentiate himself, but his hair is long, all the way down to his shoulders and pulled back into a ponytail. He offers a smile all the same and says, âPlease forgive Icepick, heâs a bit⌠unfriendly to new people. But Iâm Ratchet.â
Scorch, Icepick, and Ratchet. You try to start pushing the names into the depth of your memory as the other clones in Umbra Squadron start to introduce themselves, one by one.
Doc identifies himself as the squadron medic, or as close as he can be as he wasnât born and trained as one. He claims to be very knowledgeable about field medicine, and seems perfectly happy to start telling a story about one time that he had to patch up Ratchet from a rather gruesome blaster shot to the stomachâbut luckily heâs interrupted with the next introduction.
Screwloose seems more comfortable to talk about the weapon he prefers to carry than about himself.
âThe uh, DC-15A carbine is a really good and reliable weapon,â he says, never quite able to meet your gaze with his as he speaks. It almost sounds like heâs reciting facts and, after a moment, you realize heâs wringing his hands as he talks. âStandard issue, minimal kickback, and thereâs more than a dozen mods to use depending on the situationâŚâ
âHe gets nervous âround new faces,â another clone says from beside him, arms crossed and posture nonplussed about the entire situation. âNameâs Dread, short for Dreadnaught. I handle the big guns and the bigger clankers.â He laughs after a moment, and the manâs body language finally loosens as he wraps an arm around the shoulder of the next clone to introduce.
Pinpoint isnât just quiet, heâs entirely mute, or he is at least to you. Dread explains that Pinpoint is their sniper, and he just⌠doesnât talk much. Doesnât really talk to anyone outside of other clones, and even then what he says is curt and to the pointâa no-nonsense kinda guy. Pinpoint does at least offer you something of a half-smile and a quiet wave, and you offer it in kind.
Next is Knick and Knack, a pair of clones who apparently earned their names not only for being nearly inseparable from one another, but also because they had a bad habit of picking up countless useless bits from missionsâa shiny rock, a pretty bead, something or another that wasnât against the regulations.
Last but certainly not least was Triggerâhe stood beside Scorch when everyone came into the rec room, and called himself the second-in-command of the squad. He seemed a bit more tense than most of the rest, a bit less inclined to meet your eyes or offer much information about himself.
But that was all of them. You look at each of the clones one by one, committing each name to memory as best as you can in the short time you had been given them. Even if you were assigned to an entire squad, your work was certainly cut out for you; keep an eye on these boys.
âWell, weâre not the fanciest lot in the army,â Scorch jokes, âbut Umbra squad isnât short on good men fighting for the Republic.â
âI can see that,â you reply, trying to keep the smile on your lips when your heart is beating rapidly within your chest. All of their eyes are on you, watching, waiting; what will you do next? What will you ask? Itâs weird to think that this is the first day to an entire relationship with each of these soldiersâone that very well may dive deeper than mere companionship, given the fact that you had indicated comfort for it on your application.
You take in a breath, then start speaking.
âWell, you already know my name, but let me tell you a little more about myself. Iâm from Coruscant, born and raised there-â
âIs it true that the city goes all the way down to the core?â Dreadnaught asks. Pinpointâs expression beside the man grows curious in tandem.
âWell, I suppose? I donât⌠know, exactly. See, I was born just a few layers beneath the surface, and down there itâs likeâŚâ
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Okay, sorry if this is, like, too soon for your worldbuilding in the Squad Spouse AU but I NEED to know how Palpyâs Plot gets ruined by the Spousesâ˘ď¸
I don't think it's too soon at all! The Squadron Spouse AU is likely one that I'll explore non-chronologically, so I have no issue in talking about how it's going to royally FUCK with the canon of Order 66 ahead of writing anything about it specifically in a fic.
This post is also a LONG boy so it's going under a readmore, but I promise it's worth the perusal!
The problem begins with the fact that the Companion Program was created and approved by the Galactic Senate entirely without intervention from Palatine himself. It's a rogue variable, a completely unplanned part of the war, but the most dangerous thing is that Palpatine completely disregards it as being completely beneath him and his grand scheme.
So, how does it get through the Galactic Senate? In this AU, the senate and larger public eye has a semblance of sympathy for the clones even at the start of the war--maybe it's because of a rogue journalist, or maybe its just because the clones are seen as the military slaves they honestly are in the existing canon to begin with.
"Companionship is the right of any sentient being," one senator perhaps had argued, "And as long as there are people willing to make use of their skills in medicine, psychology, emergency first aid and so on, then there is no reason they can't be an asset to the Republic and a companion to its army."
The Companion Program is shuffled through the senate one way or another, and soon it becomes apparent that a large number of civilians are plenty happy to join--largely those from less wealthy or safe-guarded planets, though there's a multitude from Coruscant that apply to be part of the program as well. The applicants that make it through are those who are fairly well-prepared to deal with the fact that they are the equivalent of deployed military dependents, but it is that exact same situation that makes them a prominent culture of people within the Grand Army of the Republic.
Stress can do a lot of things to people, but in the case of war and armies, it often builds a sense of camaraderie that is impossible to develop elsewhere. Members of the Companion Program (soon casually called 'spouses') often get to know one another very well--and an entire network of relationships between spouses and the clones they're assigned to is woven from loose threads into an entire, intricate tapestry that stretches from one side of the galaxy to the other.
And it was this very network that Palpatine didn't expect--a group of people that cared about one another and the clones they had been with (for some spouses, since the start of the war), and it didn't take long before a rumor would come rumbling through: there's something wrong, stories of nightmares weaving with the offhand report of a clone who had gone berserk and tried to kill a Jedi, one spouse going missing when they tried to investigate the cause of a strange recurring headache a member of their squadron was experiencing.
It's one little piece of the puzzle after another, coming together until the conglomerate of the Companion Program--which was filled with admittedly experienced civilians across all walks of life, not to be underestimated by any means--learned the secret. The horrible, atrocious secret that was Order 66 and the implant of a control chip inside every clone that came out of Kamino; this discovery would be entirely hushed, kept to only the few who could be trusted with it while general knowledge continue to grow in what they could do to try and stop this from happening.
Spouses with medical knowledge and training enough to be allowed to operate the surgical wards started organizing secret operations to remove chips, while others passed on information they had gathered from the chips itself--going back to Kamino, to a dark plot, an order yet to be given by the very Chancellor himself.
Not every clone is able to be saved when it comes time for Palpatine to send out the call for Order 66. But, by that time in the war, when so many had done so much work in order to stop it, it means that scarcely any Jedi are killed, the clones in majority are spared from their waking nightmare, and Darth Sideous himself is exposed and tried for his crimes against the Republic.
What does this mean for the world afterwards? Who knows! I'd like to say that Anakin doesn't ever betray the order and instead goes on to try and reform some of their doctrine with backing from many others of his peers. The clones are slowly merged into the civilian populace, though not without plenty of challenges to be explored. It's not a perfect ending, but it's at least a better one!
I have to admit the most fun part of the Squadron Spouse AU is not the potential for crazy worldbuilding or spicy shenanigans, it's not just because I'm stubborn about taking crack-fic ideas and making them work.
It's because I have never seen a force quite as stubborn, willful, and completely ready to kill a man as a military dependant, especially a spouse.
I am not joking for a single moment when I say that taking the equivalent of military spouses and putting them in the clone wars setting will single-handedly decimate Order 66 and make Palpatine personally strangle whatever senate member was the first one to offer the companion program as a legitimate policy.