fandoms: star wars (prequel, clone wars, rebels, mandalorian) / Queen / Marvel.

for star wars: i can do the writing in aurebesh or mando’a, you choose.Any ship/ otp accepted.

for Queen and Marvel: any character/person you want, any ship too...i’m open to everything so don’t be afraid.

if you want some example of my work, here it is my edits masterlist

When the chip finally disintegrates nearly fifteen years into his time as the Grand Admiral’s lap dog… Cody emerges from his chains that have restrained him since Utapau, and he heaves the largest gulp of air his lungs can manage as his knees give out beneath him.

Obi-Wan had always told him that he thought the commanders of the GAR were more attuned to the Force then their less superior brothers, the subordinates who often fell beneath the rank of Captain.

He doesn’t believe in the kriffing Force. Not after Knightfall. What he does know is that something led him to this moon, away from the hunt of his remaining brothers that he was supposed to eliminate, and brought him to his knees at the tomb of the 501st Legion.

The ones who didn’t become a part of Vader’s Fist.

Cody doesn’t know if Rex is still alive. He doesn’t know who Vader is, or why everyone is so afraid of him, or why that kriffing Sith Lord looks right through him as if he knows him. Like they’re friends.

Bile rises in his throat. He fists the snow in gloved fingers and retches at the grave before him. It’s Jesse’s. Apparently he’d been one of the last veterans of the Five-Oh-First to survive to the end of the war.

 “My failure.” He whispers to the ghost who crowd him. They should have listened to Fives. Listened to reason instead of that undying devotion to their Jedi and the GAR that had dug most of them a premature grave. “My failure.”

One in which he will carry with him forever.

Please don’t leave me.

His first words to Cody at such a young age, barely beginning his cadet training with the Kaminoans and hardly large enough to hold the guns they demand him to carry. He’s meant to fight a war, they say.

Children won’t win wars. Men do.

His ori’vod is the pride and joy of the first batch of brothers. Everyone is wracked with jealousy once they realize that Kote is to be mand’alor. Or would be.. if they weren’t about to be sent off into the front lines of a battlefield. Despite his rank, despite the fact that they almost never see each other, CT-7567 says it in a pleading whisper as his best friend and forever brother is dragged away with the other newly appointed commanders. Bly. Gree. Bacara. Fox. Wolffe. Cody.

Rex watches them leave. He doesn’t dare speak a word. Sentimentality and attachment is wrong. It’s a weakness. Weakness gets you killed.

Nevertheless, his heart says what his lips wont: Please don’t leave me.

The Kaminoans created the clones to be the personal weapons of The Republic. They formed together the DNA of Jango Fett with their own hands and made something capable of following orders without question, hands perfectly built to hold the weapons that would bring their enemies to their knees. They didn’t consider that their soldiers would have hearts. Or minds.

They never considered that their soldiers would feel.

And oh… how they bled.

Not just external bleeding like the type you receive from an inflicted wound… but has anyone ever told you about the scars that you can’t see? The ones you obtain on your soul. The ones that if left unchecked will fester and rot from the inside out.

The training they both received was the most terrifying they ever had in years. Harder than any battle they had ever been in together, harder than any of their previous training.

The exhilarating and scary aspect was that he had no more regrets. For anyone but his brother and his now new master.

His senses were sharpened and now he could understand everything around him and comprehend exactly what it was. Before it was all blurred, before he didn't comprehend, now he does.

Sometimes the power was too overwhelming, as if he felt he couldn't handle it in the first place. The pain and anger he constantly experienced became his only grip on the reality he had, everything was new and brutal and he was living in it.

And his brother. After all, they were still together, just the two of them. Even though in a completely different way, he loved him, always had. He was his twin, after all. He would never abandon him, no matter what.

He was, so to speak, always the same. More attentive, always efficient and extremely intelligent. Now he was also more focused, tenacious and extremely cruel, so subtle that he was proud of him. 

They became unstoppable and impossible to defeat. Literally ruthless killing machines that enjoyed winning by murdering whatever stood before them..

Hevy’s not sure where they are, but he’s not going to be able to get much further with Flak unconscious. At the very least, they can hide here until Flak wakes up. The Guards won’t find them quickly—there are enough tunnels that they can’t guess where Hevy could have gone, and there are so many access ports leading in and out that they won’t even know if Hevy is still underground or not.

For the moment, they’re safe.

First time he truly looked at her even if through his visor he found himself..nervous? No it can’t be, a fearless Mando can’t be ..nervous, right? 

He surely felt something but he didn’t know what it was still. She was beautiful in a way no one noticed, smart and fiercely indipendent.

And he probably had already lost his mind.

No pain, no victory Your reign is history 'Cause we're not stoppin' 'til we break through So take your best shot, make your move

Oh, step right up, who's next? You're messin' with the best 

I'm evil to the core What I shouldn't do I will They say I'm emotional What I wanna save I'll kill Is that who I truly am? I truly don't have a chance 

Hear me from the bottom Forged in regret, I'm the silversmith Doomsday You had it coming Marching the streets with an iron fist