*gathers the star* tysm! <3

this is from it's only a target if you miss (aka winter soldier!thorn)

okay i wanted to write winter soldier thorn, and i knew that meant dealing with scipio, but i also knew that because i am very soft i needed to quickly bump off palpatine so we could have a hea

so i spent like a week spoogling when the fives incident happened and when thorn went to scipio to try and figure out plausible timeline and discovered it all appears to be One Very Bad Week for fox?

yeah we're fixing that

world saved. palps ejected. then fox is alive and existing in his dumpy little flat with his terrible blurrg art and one pair of shoes, rather than dying somewhere on coruscant, because thorn stayed fox's hand for just long enough. the entire galaxy - at least as fox knows it, of siblings and jedi - owes its continuation thorn, yet thorn died anonymously on some shitty planet, like he didn't matter at all.

the question, then: how to mourn someone that saved the galaxy? thorn would kick fox's arse from one side of it to the other if fox started weeping and wailing. if he got to see fox moping around like he is.

(but thorn can't see anything, because he's dead)

anotehr question: if fox had trusted his own judgement that day, instead of thorn's, what would the galaxy look like instead?

(maybe then everyone would feel as fox did now)

FUN TIMES.

along with this, it was important to me that thorn's impact is explicitly acknowledged by another of the galaxy-savers (ahsoka and fives are the ones that kill palpatine in the end)

aaaah i super enjoyed revisiting this fic, i love it so much!

I WILL TYSM <3

this is from eleven ways to lose a war

the situation: a planet has been acquired, chips are being removed, the clones are is bailing from kamino and the galaxy - FAREWELL. seventeen (and fox) have been coordinating ops on kamino, and this has involved waking the alphas from stasis and updating them on the situation.

the expectation: alphas don't have chips! they should be onboard!

very few of the alphas, it turns out, are onboard. seventeen, our favourite loyalty-or-infanticide guy, has been really struggling with the idea that he is onboard with what is definitely not treason, so why the kriff is everyone else dragging their heels about it? and he's had to confront these, like, past versions of himself that are now taking a very literal swing at him, time and time again, as they wake from stasis, and seveteen is realising that... you know... he's kind of been a massive dick. and those shitty little ceecees have been eight steps of him all along.

oof.

it's a lot! it's a lot.

naturally, seventeen will not say any of these things out loud, but instead try and tear furniture apart (and that's another thing! the ceecees put furniture outside the medbay, because there is now a reason to hope - indeed expect! - that a clone will walk out of medbay again) and shoot things.

the way that fox immediately picks up on seventeen's meaning is a delightful synergy of horror for me. every clone would've picked up on seventeen's meaning. no one else would've.

i just really like this scene! seeing your old self in an identical face and thinking what a dickhead is delicious to meeeee

i'd been struggling with this (original) story draft for a... years... and last month finally smashed through and punted it off to be looked at. today felt like enough distance to have a quick reread in the interim and while ofc i immediately found a typo i also realised... it's about... being magically trapped in a tiny village and being worked to very literal death by anonymous masked captors while surrounding swamps inexorably reclaim every manmade structure and eventually the village itself. and every month people come to the village market to buy shiny things and pretend none of that is happening.

this is a follow-up/prequel to my @foxmoonevent2025 piece, because i got to wondering about how that transformation worked in corrie medbay 🌙

(shiv is my corrie medic oc and she and fox have an antagonistship supreme)

when she’d been a cadet, most of shiv’s training had been angled toward triaging battlefield injuries or installing new organs from the promised supplies of cloned materiel, with a brief overview on space sickness (‘clones don’t get it’), the common cold (‘clones don’t get it’), and the clap (‘clones better not get it’).

she hadn’t been prepared for coruscant.

it's @foxmoonevent2025! here's a silly something for day one, using the prompts "full moon" and "bright". i had intended it to be spooky but thorn refuses to take fox seriously, so here we are.

Fast breaths steamed wetly into the crisp night. Thorn could feel the condensation on his dry lips. He swallowed thickly, the rich loamy scent of the densely forested planet leaving an aftertaste in his throat even through his filters. He stifled a cough. Wouldn't do to make more noise than he could avoid. Silver moonlight already scored through the forest like a blasted beacon; if he started to hack and sneeze, he might as well start yelling his location like a shiny failing first manoeuvres.

As if proving his Corrie luck, Thorn's comm sputtered. He ducked into a crouch as he activated it, as if he might be able hide the noise that way. Jaw clenched, Thorn clicked the comm twice to signal his ability to receive. He kept his eyes on the thermal tracking on his HUD. So far, so good.

A single click responded. A whisper. "He's karking disappeared. What do we do?"

happy clone ficiversary to mee~~~ ✨🫡 i wrote this drabble in the middle of paris and have not stopped being normal about clones since

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54404125

i can’t remember what i originally intended for this but it’s been in my email drafts for ages so. you’re welcome??

that trooper shuffle

"Did you see that?"

Cody startled from frowning at the tactical display and redirected his frown to Kenobi, who was looking off to the side where some of the shinies were playing cards.

"See what? Obvious cheating?" he asked.

Kenobi shook his head. "Not that--though the trooper with the stripes needs to work on their sleight of hand--but-- There! Again! Surely you saw it that time, Commander?"

All Cody had seen was Medic Tangle displaying their typically impressive shuffle technique.

Cody shook his head. "Only shuffling, sir. Are you feeling well?"

They'd wrapped up a long campaign and everyone was looking forward to shore leave. The latest batch of shinies--Tangle among them--just about equalised the numbers lost in action, but the numbers had been increasingly exponentially and the war didn't show any sign of ending. Cody's list of rememberances had begun to feel like a leash, chaining him to a weight he could never shed.

For Kenobi, who felt every light going out, it must've been-- Well. Hard, Cody guessed.

He had to guess. It wasn't the kind of thing they talked about.

After a long moment spent watching the shinies, Kenobi finally turned back around to fully face Cody. He shook his head slowly. His eyes were distant.

"I'm feeling fine, thank you, Commander. I think the campaign is getting to me. I must meditate," he said.

Cody nodded, and saluted Kenobi as the Jedi headed for his tent. Then, alone again, Cody shook his head slightly and returned his attention briefly to the shinies. He didn't see where Kenobi's issue had come from. Tangle had always shuffled that way, ever since they'd learnt how to use their tentacles properly.

shout out to you if you guessed “din and grogu nonsense” from my tag game 😌 i was DETERMINED to get this missing day done! my mom (!) gave me the idea of linking ‘mint’ to skelly crew 🫡

fluffcember: mint

The sun had long since set but Grogu still fussed in his bassinet. Din checked the usual suspects—blankie tucked in, water drank, fangs cleaned—then scanned again for any beings approaching the perimeter that Grogu's senses might've noted but somehow evaded the perimeter security. Nothing stirred.

Din leaned over the bassinet. Used to be that he worried, looming like that, but something about his shadow seemed to calm the kid.

"What do you need? You gotta give me something to work with here," Din tried.

Grogu gave him the stink face.

Din gently rubbed the spot between Grogu's eyes. Sometimes it helped. "You're a tough negotiator, I know, and feared across the galaxy, but even Jango Fett used to get eight hours a night."

Chapters: 30/30 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Batman - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Fluffcember, Clone Troopers Deserve Better (Star Wars), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), Batfamily (DCU) Summary:

Short fics written for Fluffcember 2024, with multiple pairings and none. Each chapter will have the featured characters mentioned in the title and tags will be updated as more chapters are added.

fluffcember day thirty one: fireworks

din started at the sudden noise of artillery fire and grabbed for boba’s hand, stilling boba’s gesturing as he shared a bounty tale over latemeal.

“the kid. i’ve got to get the kid!”

din could barely hear himself, panic drumming loud in his ears, as he scrambled to his feet. artillery kept sounding but he couldn’t pause to triangulate the source, he had to get to grogu! din was in boba’s room while grogu had been spirited away by fennec for a last bout of mischief before bedtime; fennec would keep grogu safe as much as she could but from a force of such size—?

“din—“

“no, don’t, i’ve got to—“

boba’s hand on din’s pauldron. his voice, commanding, calm, certain.

“djarin, peace,” boba said, as still as the dark of space.

fluffcember day thirty: warming up

Life on Pabu had taken on a rhythm that Crosshair would have resisted more fiercely if it hadn't been for Mayday finding comfort in routine. For Crosshair, Kamino had been rigidly scheduled, and time with the Imperials even more so, and as for the prisons before Omega and her break… Well. Crosshair enjoyed having a life without expectations attached. Mayday, on the other hand, had spent his war with long, cold days yawning ahead of him into a dismal blur, and he needed to know what and when and how.

Crosshair would've put up with a lot of things for Mayday's comfort. As it was, having sushi every Taungsday and hosting Batch Breakfast every other Benduday and being the one to dry the pots while Mayday washed were hardly among the most taxing or unpleasant chores that Crosshair had ever done.

For his part, Mayday was steadily inviting more spontaneity into his life, though the restaurant they'd tried instead of sushi one week remained the worst meal either of them had ever eaten outside of protein mush.

Some experiments are meant to fail, Mayday had said, rubbing his thumb in circles over the scars on Crosshair's scalp. In his turn, Crosshair had unerringly found Mayday's single facial scar, on his temple, where every surviving clone bore one mark or another, and had not replied.

fluffcember day twenty eight: cold turkey

"I can stop at any time. I can. Don't look at me like that. I'm not addicted," Fox said with a sniff. "I have the will of a-a— The will of something notorious for having immense power of will."

Thire made a hissing noise through his teeth. "Started strong but lost marks on the descent, sir."

"Otherwise a solid seven out of ten," Stone concurred.

Fox flung his stylus across the office, making Thire curse and duck beneath his desk to avoid the projectile. For lack of anything suitable to throw at Stone, Fox gestured an invitation to do something uncomfortable with a speeder, to which Stone simply waggled his accursed eyebrows.

Standing in the middle of the room, Thorn cleared his throat. His face, when Fox dared to look, was as durasteel.

fluffcember day twenty seven: family gathering

jaster rubbed his face, as if the action might somehow aid his comprehension. it didn’t. with a sigh, he levelled his best buir look at jango. he’d had a lot of practice with the look over the years, but jango had seemed to settle down lately, as he focused on leading his pack of grunts out in the galaxy. the story he’d just garbled out, however, indicated jaster was going to have to get back into practice with alacrity.

at jaster’s sigh, jango began to protest.

“buir—!“

“just… one more minute, jango.”

jaster settled back into his seat at the head of the dining table, where he’d been enjoying his caf and concord dawn’s early morning, before jango had tumbled in already babbling at hyperspace speeds as if finding the right words would forestall any pointed questions.

that had most assuredly not been the case. witness: jaster’s incipient headache.

fluffcember day twenty six: forgiveness

hands behind his back, stone eyeballed the small group of troopers gathered in the coruscant guard galley. the group were mostly shinies, with one or two more experienced troopers loitering at the back, all of whom were able to recognise signs that—as thire would put it—someone had proper karked it.

stone let the troopers shuffle for a moment longer, drawing out the tension, before speaking.

“there has been a grievous crime committed and someone in this room is at fault. if you speak now, i’m willing to work together to rectify this situation, but if no one admits responsibility, then…” stone trailed off to let them fill the silence with their overactive imaginations. he didn’t actually have a threat ready; no one was going to get decommed, for kriff’s sake, not over—

“sir!”

fluffcember day twenty five: the perfect gift

thorn lunged for the command office comm when its lights started flashing in the we need a commander stat pattern, gleefully snatching victory from thire’s too-short grasp. triumphant, thorn held the comm aloft with one hand and affected a flourishing senatorial bow with the other, inclining his body toward stone’s slow applause.

“i believe this call is for me, gentlebeings,” thorn said.

thire slung himself back into his chair with a huff. “you only won because fox is out. i hope it’s another nexu with the pox.”

“whatever it is, at least i don’t have to deal with ration requisition in triplicate anymore. fingers crossed for a litter of pox-ridden kits.”

“dream big,” stone said, snorting, before returning to his datapad.