#Quit before Hutta

[luminoustarlight]

Had It Up To Here | Anakin Skywalker

After an argument, Anakin's patience with you has grown thin.

Very, very loosely inspired by the lyric "I've had it up to here" in the song Just A Girl by No Doubt

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 4.6k | read on ao3 warnings: SMUT [dom!anakin, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, cream pie], dirty talk, jealousy, flirting

i hope you enjoy my first ani smut. there's more to come (hehe) :)

If you’ve never received the cold shoulder from Anakin Skywalker, consider yourself lucky. 

It all started two days ago after he and Obi-Wan retrieved you from Nal Hutta. Your mission was successful so you weren’t quite sure why Anakin had looked so… displeased when he saw you. Of course, you didn’t expect him to greet you with open arms, given that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on the trip. But the scowl on his face was enough to make your very exposed skin prickle with goosebumps. And that’s when you realized— you didn’t have a chance to change into your everyday threads before you met Ani and Obi-Wan at the extraction point. You were still wearing a rather scantily clad ensemble, one that certainly would’ve had Anakin jumping out of his pants if you two were alone. 

“You did well,” Obi-Wan praised. “I can imagine you were quite alluring to the Hutts.” Obi-Wan’s tone was playful, knowing just how magnetic you can be. In contrast to Obi-Wan’s friendliness, a deep-set frown had made itself comfortable on Anakin’s face. He didn’t like what you were wearing and he definitely didn’t like Obi-Wan making light of it. Your secret boyfriend shrugged off his own robe and threw it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you, Anakin,” you said. Anakin replied with an unpleased grunt. Even after Obi-Wan settled himself in the cockpit and you two were alone, he didn’t hug you or kiss you or even act like he was happy to see you. “What, you don’t like my outfit, Ani?” 

“No.” His tone was clipped. 

“Really?” you smirked, opening his robe, revealing your bare torso and accentuated breasts. “I really thought you would have.” 

“That’s enough,” Anakin said, shutting down your flirtatious smile. “We’ll discuss this later.” 

Then off he went to join Obi-Wan in the cockpit, not saying another word to you until you were in your private chambers. 

Hours. It seemed like you and Anakin were having a conversation about your outfit on Nal Hutta for hours. As a Republic spy, you have no issue with becoming the character the mission requires you to be. Most of the time you’re invisible. After all, that’s the point of being a spy, isn’t it? However, you were far from invisible when the job required you to weed your way through the Hutt Clan. It made Anakin’s blood boil to know that your beautiful body, which should only be reserved for him, was exposed to some of the slimiest scum in the galaxy. 

Of course, your bodily autonomy is your own. And Anakin knows this. But you are also his and because nobody actually knows that you’re his, he doesn’t particularly enjoy when anyone gets to admire you and not face repercussions. He has to consciously remind himself not to stare at you during meetings and briefings. He can’t tell you you’re beautiful, he can’t kiss you whenever he pleases and it drives him mad. Because of this, you two have become quite the experts at stealing kisses in empty hallways, locking pinkies in passing to silently say I love you. 

You had been looking forward to taking a nice bath to decompress. Maybe open a bottle of wine. And you wanted to do that with Anakin. It was abnormally quiet for him on the war front so he’d been given a couple days off. But Anakin just can’t seem to let go of your disagreement about what is appropriate for you to wear. Spoiler alert: you can wear whatever the stars you want and he just has to deal with it. Because you’re both too stubborn and petty for your own good, you’ve decided to dress up in a nice, form-fitting emerald dress with triangle cuts on the sides of your waist, meeting to a point over your belly button. 

Anakin is sitting in the lounge, flicking through the HoloTV. He’s hardly said a word to you since you ended your argument last night with, “You don’t control me, Anakin.”

While that might be true in almost every sense, there is a different persona Anakin often takes on when you’re intimate. And he would venture to say that he is in full control of you in the bedroom. 

When you emerge from your sleeping quarters, you swear you can hear his heart stop. He promptly turns off the TV and reaches you in five quick steps. You’re securing your earring, tilting your neck to show off the supple skin Anakin loves to nip and kiss so dearly. You’ve put on the perfume that makes your skin shimmer in the light, making you look like his very own angel. Anakin squares his hips against you, backing you into the wall. “Where are you going?” 

You look up at him through thick eyelashes. Your lips are coated in a clear gloss, all tantalizing and tempting, probably the one that tastes like pears. “Out,” you reply. You escape from Anakin’s blockade to head towards the door, but not before he grabs your forearm with his gloved hand. 

You know he’s dying to kiss you, to have you right there up against the wall. But Anakin doesn’t cave that easily. We’re back to that stubbornness you two share. “Without me?” Anakin grits. 

You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle. “If you’re not going to talk to me then I figured I’d go out and have a drink at Helios. I’m sure there are plenty of people willing to talk to me there.” You mean to flirt with. Harmless flirting, of course. You and Anakin only do it to rile the other up. You don’t do it often, what with the continuous war going on, the two of you don’t find yourselves socializing with civilians all that regularly. 

“Watch it,” he warns, his grip on you tightening. You look down to where his leather fingers are wrapped around your arm. It’s a strong hold. Just say the word and I’ll let go, Anakin conveys through softened eyes. 

“Watch me walking away from you and out of the door.” You snatch your arm away from Anakin. You take fast and confident steps so he knows you mean business and open the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.” 

Anakin stands in the foyer with his jaw and fists clenched. He lets you walk away, mainly because he knows he’s been acting like a prick. He knows you’re right. He knows you were doing your job and not purposefully drawing attention to yourself by what you were wearing. And so what if you were? You can wear whatever you want. Stars, most of the time Anakin loves seeing you dressed up or in next to nothing. 

And truthfully, Anakin loved what you were wearing when he picked you up from Nal Hutta. It was Obi-Wan’s comment that put him in a foul mood over it. Just two words, the same word repeated twice, actually. “My, my,” was all the older gentleman muttered. Anakin hated that his Master could make such a comment about you without anyone being suspicious of his intentions or feelings. If Anakin had made the same comment, with that same suggestive tone, he’d be in deep Bantha fodder. 

Anakin thinks about this next move. Do you truly want space? Or is this just a little foreplay? Afterall, he still hasn’t kissed you. Maker, what is wrong with him? All he ever wants to do is kiss you, taste you, wrap you up in his arms and never let go. Because you are his and only his. 

He’s made his decision. He’s going to Helios. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Helios is one of the nicer clubs downtown. It doesn’t usually attract the wrong crowd, making you feel safe whenever you go alone or meet with friends. It’s not like you can’t protect yourself should anything happen, though. It’s one of Anakin’s favorite things about you: your precise marksmanship and dexterity with a knife. Not to mention your mean uppercut. 

The crowd is booming, but not enough so that your laugh can’t be heard by Anakin when he walks into the club. His eyes immediately track you to the bar, elbows on the counter, laughing at something the Twi’lek on your right must’ve said. The routine pit of jealousy begins building in his stomach. It’s been a while since you two have played this game. He can’t remember if he loves it or hates it. He loves knowing that the men who want you can’t actually have you. He loves knowing that he’s the one who will be fucking you— or making love to you depending on the day— at the end of it all. That you are his and only his. But damn it, does he hate watching someone else make you laugh. Especially when he’s done so little of that since you got home. 

Anakin comes up behind you and places his left hand on your back, not so subtly pushing himself between you and the Twi’lek. “Pardon me,” he says. 

You straighten your back. You knew he’d come get you. His jawline looks impossibly sharp under the lavender light in the club. His hand is warm on your back, fingertips digging into the exposed flesh of your torso. “Hello, Anakin. I was having rather nice conversation with Vik before you interrupt us. Say hello to Vik, Anakin.” 

Anakin does no such thing and orders a shot of something strong instead. 

“Sorry, are you two…” Vik waves a finger between you and Anakin.

You reply in unison, although your answer is “no” and Anakin’s is “yes”. 

It is never “yes” because you never know who might be listening. Anakin must really be peeved. 

Vik’s flirty eyes turn frightful. “Listen, I don’t want any part in a lovers quarrel.” 

You place your hand over Vik’s. “We’re not lovers, Vik. Anakin is just a friend.” 

Anakin downs his shot. It burns going down, but no more than hearing you call him your friend. He’s too touch-starved to play this game any longer. His hold on you is possessive, but clearly not enough for you to get the message. 

“You might wanna tell him that,” Vik hooks his thumb at your boyfriend. 

“I insist, Vik,” your voice wavers only so much that Anakin would notice. You can’t keep up this act much longer. Not with one drink already in your system and Anakin’s hand searing into your skin. “He’s just here for a drink. I’d much rather continue our conversation. Anakin, would you mind leaving us?” 

“Yes, I mind,” Anakin replies sternly. 

“Excuse me?” you blink at him. His blue eyes are drowning in darkness and you hesitate to say your next thought. Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to say it anyway. “I kindly asked you to leave. I’d like to have another drink with Vik.” 

That’s it. He’s at the end of his fuse. Anakin turns to the Twi’lek, persuasion laced through his voice. “You want to go home. You’re not feeling well.” 

Vik promptly stands up from the stool. “I want to go home. I’m not feeling well.” 

“Anakin,” you say tentatively, knowing you’re in trouble. 

“I’ve had it up to here with you,” Anakin puts his hand above his head to show just how far you’ve tested his patience. “Let’s go.” 

You obey, making your way out of the club with Anakin’s hand still on your back. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until we get home,” he says into your ear. His hot breath makes you shudder. You nod and silently get into the speeder. 

Like the bubbles in a bottle of sparkling wine, excitement fizzes beneath your skin. You can’t wait for what Anakin has in store for you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As directed, you are silent until you enter your apartment. Which is really your shared apartment with Anakin when he’s not a the Temple. Little pieces of your Jedi knight litter the space that had once been your own. Trinkets that he’s collected from all over the galaxy, unfinished inventions that he tinkers with to destress. Not to mention his scent. It permeates every pillow and blanket that you own, making it that much easier to miss him when he’s gone. 

“Ani,” you begin gently, setting your bag on one of your dressers. 

“Ah-” he holds up his hand. “What did I say?” 

“You said you didn’t want to hear a word from me until we got home,” you answer immediately. “We’re home.” 

The corner of Anakin’s lip quirks up before he catches himself. You almost had him.“You think you’re clever? That mouth of yours gets you into trouble sometimes, doesn’t it?” 

You nod and gulp. Your thighs have become sticky with arousal given the fact that you chose not to wear anything beneath your dress. A fact that Anakin has yet to discover. He holds your chin in his gloved hand and angles your head upwards. “Good thing I have a better way of putting that mouth to use.” 

Anakin encourages you to your knees. The short hemline of your dress creeps up your thighs but not enough to reveal your exposed cunt. “No touching. Understand?” 

You nod again, sitting complacently on your heels as you watch Anakin remove his pants. Your lips are parted as you anticipate his length in your mouth. You claw at your thighs when you see the prettiest droplets of precum on the crown of his cock. It’s been too long, you think.

“I know it has, angel,” Anakin answers your thought. Damn him for getting in your head. No matter. He’d know you want him even without reading your thoughts.  You’re practically drooling for him. “Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me.” 

As soon as you drop your jaw, Anakin wastes no time putting his dick in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue makes your pussy pathetically clench around nothing. Even though it’s been a while since you two have been intimate, the feeling, the taste, it’s familiar. It’s comforting. Even when his spongey tip is hitting the back of your throat when he ruts his hips forward. This makes you gag and grab onto his thighs for stability. 

“Fuck,” the profanity slips from Anakin’s lips. He can’t deny how much he’s missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. The sinful image of it being too big, too thick, making you choke. He relishes the way you whimper around him, how it sends shocks of pleasure through him as you beg for him to fuck your mouth. You want to wrap your hand around the base of him, but Anakin was clear in his instructions. No touching. Instead, you squeeze his thighs, urging him to continue. You relax your throat, opening wide so he can use you how he pleases. 

The friction of his length brushing past your soft lips makes his stomach tighten. His strong quads are contracting beneath your hands as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth. His musk makes you dizzy. Your eyes are stinging and a lonesome tear falls down your cheek. “Finally decided to behave, hm?” he wipes your tear with his thumb. “Don’t think for a second that you’re forgiven for how you’ve been acting.” 

Anakin pulls his dick from your mouth, a messy string of saliva connecting the two of you before landing on your chin. Your chest is heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t even let you cum tonight. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

“Please, Ani,” you answer quietly. Your throat is raw and you still can’t seem to get a good breath in your lungs. “I want to cum.” 

Anakin shakes his head. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to cum, I asked if you deserved to cum. Because from where I’m standing I don’t think you do. You’ve been a brat ever since you got home. Insisting that you can wear slutty little outfits just because it’s part of your job… flirting with that Twi at the bar… telling him I’m your friend,” Anakin spits.   

Your knees are aching but you don’t dare stand up. Anakin hasn’t been dominant in a long time and you want to savor this. “I had to seduce the Hutts, Ani. It was for the job.” 

“I’m done hearing your excuses.” Anakin wraps his artificial hand around your bicep, lifting you off the ground. “I want to hear you say you’re sorry for being a brat. For disrespecting me at the club.”

Maker, you wish you were still on the floor because Anakin’s words are making your knees buckle. “I’m sorry,” you say. 

“That’s not good enough,” he hisses. You love this side of Anakin: dark and demanding while knowing he’s going to take care of you when all is said and done. After all, he’s just your sweet boy from Tatooine. He never used to want to inflict pain on purpose. But over time, with your permission and encouragement, you allowed him to experiment with stirring desires. Spanking you, tying you up, being the dominating presence in the bedroom. Giving him all of the control he never felt under Watto. 

Anakin is not always dominant and you’re not always submissive. Sometimes he likes to be taken care of, likes it when you’re in control. Sometimes you two just make love, only concerned with making the other feel good with your bodies. But tonight, you understand very clearly that Anakin wants to dominate you. Reclaim you as his. 

“I’m sorry for being a brat, Anakin. I’m sorry I told the Twi’lek we weren’t together.”  

“What was his name?” Anakin inquires. You give him a puzzled look. “The Twi’lek. What was his name?” 

“V-Vik,” you stutter. 

Anakin tucks your hair behind your ear. “Good. Now forget it. The only name you’ll be needing tonight is mine. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply. Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Anakin,” you correct. 

“There’s hope for you yet,” he replies. “Let’s get this dress off of you.” 

You turn around so he can undo the zipper. Anakin’s lips ghost over your pulse, hands caressing your shoulders before finding the little tab at the top of your back. “I really do love this dress, baby. But I know it’ll look better on the floor.” He begins a trail of kisses down your spine as he drags the zipper down your back. The opening stops just above your hips and you remove your arms so Anakin can drop the fabric from you completely. When he sees your bare ass in front of his eyes, he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. Or to you.

“You little minx,” he murmurs. “I should be mad at you… but you made it that much easier for me to access what I really want.” Anakin drags two fingers between the folds of your pussy to see how wet you are. His cock jumps with anticipation. Now he’s the one thinking it’s been too long. “Get on the bed, sweetheart. On your knees.” 

As you situate yourself on the bed, Anakin removes the rest of his clothing. The mattress dips beneath his weight and lays down beneath your legs, face right below your leaking cunt. “Sit,” is all he says. You’re wracking your brain trying to think of a time you’ve ever sat on Anakin’s face. Won’t it be too much? How will he breathe? You apparently take too long to follow orders as Anakin’s hands are on your hips and lowers you down to his mouth.

 “Oh, Anakin,” you whine, fingers fisting in his wavy hair reactively. You’d been aching and throbbing for any kind of contact and this almost already too much. His warm tongue swirls around your hole and he’s groaning into you, as if this is just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. He goes back and forth between using the tip of his tongue inside of you and using the flat of it to lap up all that you’re giving him. “Ani, that’s so good- I’m gonna-” your thighs begin to tremble as your pleasure grows. 

Swiftly, Anakin has you on your back and returns not only his mouth to your cunt, but two fingers as well. The new stretch makes you cry out his name once more. He drags his fingers along your wall while flicking your swollen clit with his tongue. His face is smeared with your juices and the sounds coming from his throat is intoxicating. You think he loves giving more than you love receiving. But then your back arches off of the bed when Anakin’s fingers hit that particular spot inside of you. Everything begins to unravel as Anakin cups your breast and finger fucks you until you see stars. “Anakin!” 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Anakin soothes, kissing the inside of your sticky thigh. “I never want you to forget…” another kiss on the other side, “that I’m the only one who can make you cum like that.”  

“Ani.” You roll your head against the mattress as your body begins to settle from your orgasm. Your fingers brush Anakin’s cheek as he kisses along your hip bone, across your soft tummy, and up the valley of your breasts. His leaking tip hits you between your folds, tempting you with what you crave so deeply. He presses a kiss over your thrumming pulse while running his hands over your whole body. The contrast between his warm hand and cool leather glove makes you shudder. You lift your hips in a meager attempt to get his cock inside of you.  “Ani, please.” 

Anakin’s lips smirk against your neck. “Please what? Please… split you open with my cock? Please… fuck you until your pussy is sore? Tell me. What do you want?” 

Oh. Anakin’s low, gruff voice is enough to make you tremble. But these words? There aren’t enough words in the galaxy to describe how they make you feel. He’s never spoken to you like this. Dirty talk is one thing but Maker, that is kriffing filth. And you want it. You want everything he said. You want to be fucked so well, so hard that all you can think about is Anakin and how good he makes you feel. Anakin grabs your hands, threading his fingers between yours and holds them by your head. His nose brushes yours and you’re acutely aware that he still hasn’t kissed you. The last time he kissed you was before you left for Nal Hutta two weeks ago. 

“I want you to kiss me, Ani,” you say sweetly. “And then… and then I want you to fuck me until I’m sore.” 

That’s enough for him. His lips finally slant over yours as he rolls his hips toward you, cock slipping into your hole with little resistence. It’s not that it’s an easy fit— it’s just that you’re always nice and ready for him. Always wet and always willing to feel that lovely stretch. You’re both moaning into each other when Anakin bottoms out. You clench your walls, eliciting a heavy groan from the bottom of Anakin’s throat. He starts slow, going nice and easy on you before setting a brutal pace. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he glides in and out of you. Your ankles lock around his waist and he wraps his arms around your back. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you. He drops his head beside yours, wild curls tickling your cheek as he begins thrusting into you just a bit harder and faster. 

“Oh, Maker, Ani-” you squeal. “It’s g-good, so good.” 

Anakin’s hips halt. He lifts his head and stares at you with brows knit together. “Just good?” he chuckles dryly. “Good isn’t good enough.” 

“That- that’s not what I meant, Ani-” you’re cut off when he pulls out of you and roughly grabs your hips and turns you over. 

“You and I both know I’m better than good,” Anakin’s words are covered with venom because how dare you insult him? With one hand still holding strongly onto your hip, he drags his cock through your slick folds but has no mercy with easing into you. He thrusts into you sharply, making you gasp and grip the sheets for purchase. 

“Anakin!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes together so tightly colors dance behind your lids. Anakin’s hips snap against your ass harhsly as he holds firmly to your hips.  

“Remind me of word you used, sweetheart. Good? Is this good enough for you, baby? Or do you need it harder?” 

Harder? He can go harder? Of course he can. Anakin Skywalker wields more strength and power than you can possibly understand. You’re not sure he even knows the full extent of his abilities. “Mmh,” you mumble against the mattress. “Hard- oh, Maker!” 

Anakin pulls on your hair, bringing your back up against his chest. “What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear and your head falls back against his shoulder. You’re absolutely blissed out when his hand finds your tight bundle of nerves.

“Hard- harder,” you fumble the word again because the pressure on your clit sends you soaring. Now coupled with the intense friction of Anakin’s relentless pace, you indeed feel like you’re being split in half. 

“This is ruining you, isn’t it? Letting me fuck you so hard you can’t even speak…” Anakin nips at your neck, leaving bruises only he can make on you. “Mine. You’re mine. Your body, your pussy, your orgasms. It’s all mine. I’m the one you’ll come home to. Every. Single. Time,” he accentuates those last three words with three blunt thrusts. He releases his seed, warmth spreading through your belly. 

“Yours,” you say through a whimper. You’re fluttering around him, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers through Anakin’s hair. “Love- fuck, Ani-” you can’t even finish your thought as you orgasm abruptly. It wracks through your whole body and you are certain to collapse if it weren’t for Anakin’s strong arms supporting you. “Ani… Anakin…” 

“I know,” he soothes, his voice returning to the gentle cadence you’re so used to. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He lays you back down on the bed, his cock coming out of you feels like a void you immediately want refilled. As if what he’s just given you isn’t enough. Aftershocks course through your limbs and you instinctively curl your legs inward. Anakin draws you near, resting your head on his chest. He runs his hand over your hair. “Was it too much?” 

“No,” you whisper, fingers drawing swirls on Anakin’s toned abdomen. “It was perfect, Ani. I missed you so much. I hated that you were mad at me.”

Anakin sighs. “I was never truly mad at you, sweetheart. I was… I was mad at myself for overreacting. Because I know you’re right.” 

You perk your head up. “What? What did you just say?” 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes but flashes the smile that still makes you swoon. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

“Please? Just once,” you tut your bottom lip out and bat your lashes. Oh, how can he say no to that? 

“You were right.” 

“Of course, I was,” you say smugly. “I just had to let you come to the conclusion on your own.” 

Anakin pinches your side playfully. “You have very interesting methods.” 

“And you don’t?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Anakin kisses the top of your head, followed by a yawn. 

“You sleepy, Ani?” 

“Mhm,” he hums. “Very sleepy.” 

Your sweet boy is back. And you wish your sweet boy only the sweetest of dreams. “I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED :D

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[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (8)

Chapter Eight: Truth and Consequences

Gif by @trapezequeen

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: An old friend reaches out for help and it sees you returning to a place you never expected to.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, reader not knowing how to handle anxiety and things take a bizarre turn (I can't explain why my mind went that way, it just happened), use of a pet name (sweetheart), light angst and emotional hurt/comfort, more of me making up reader's backstory, very brief PDA (kissing)

Word Count: 5.4K

Author's notes: Back on the show plot now! Hope you guys enjoy! Also, I am going on holiday for a week and baggage allowance was small and unfortunately, my laptop doesn't fit so Ch9 will be a longer wait :( I have started it though so will get to work on it as soon as I'm back!

Things, for the first time in a while, were peaceful and it had given you the perfect opportunity to work on your meditation skills. It may still be working for you, but you and the Force hadn’t quite gotten back into the harmonious rhythm you used to have when you were at the Jedi Temple. Gungi had been an inspiration to both you and Omega and it had become something you did together. As the ship stayed stagnant in the bay of Ord Mantell, the two of you had seen it as another opportunity and so together, the two of you retreated to her room.

--

Echo turned in his seat to look back to see Omega being like a mini you. She sat in front of you and you both had your legs crossed with your hands on your knees and your eyes shut in concentration. He got up and started to head over.

Gonky’s honks distracted Omega, and she opened her eyes with a sigh to see Echo sidestep the droid.

“Meditating again?” Echo asked.

“Trying.” Omega grumbled as she uncrossed her legs. “Gungi taught me, and (Y/N)’s been helping too, but it doesn’t work the way it does for them.” She half turned to see you completely still, your breathing even and you looked relaxed and at peace.

“They’re Jedi.” Echo said logically.

“I still like it though.” She replied. “You wanna try?”

Echo shook his head and leaned against the wall. “No. I don’t enjoy solitude. I had enough of that on Skako Minor.” He glanced back down the ship to where Tech and Wrecker were. “If it weren’t for this squad, I’d still be a prisoner there or worse.”

“Is that what made you join them?” Omega asked, realising she’d never asked that question before.

Echo grunted. “This was where I fit, where I was needed.” Tech’s voice then got his attention.

“We have an incoming transmission. It’s Rex.” Tech revealed.

Omega gently tapped your knee. She knew you wouldn’t want to miss this.

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times. “How’d you get on?”

“Better, but I can’t shut things out or keep focused like you can.”

“I had a lot of years to practice, and I still struggle.” You said kindly. “Don’t rush it, it takes time and patience.”

Omega nodded before the three of you peered down the hallway as the hologram of Rex appeared.

You and Omega quickly hopped down the stairs and the three of you made your way into the cockpit. You came to stand on Hunter’s right, assuming he had come in earlier when you were still in your meditation zone.

“Hey, guys.” Rex greeted. “Any chance I could use your squad’s expertise for a mission?”

“Finally. I’m tired of waiting around for Cid.” Wrecker said.

“What do you need, Rex?” Echo asked.

“I’ll explain everything when you get to Coruscant?”

You practically did a double take. “Coruscant?!” Why was the past suddenly coming back to haunt you right now? First Nal Hutta and now Coruscant. You hadn’t heard that name in years. You never let your thoughts linger on it for fear of what the memories would bring.

The planet you had been taken to when you were a child.

The planet you had lived on for most of your life.

The planet where you had been forged to be a Jedi.

The planet where you had used the skills you’d been taught to fight a war.

The planet that had the heart of your people in it- or at least it used to.

The planet you had abandoned.

You could be going back? The panic made your stomach turn and you had to take a deep breath to regain control of yourself.

Hunter picked up on your discomfort and he lightly grazed his fingertips against yours to help ground you. He wasn’t thrilled about going so close to Imperial territory either. There was too much to lose by going there. “That’s a big ask, Captain.”

“Why? What’s on Coruscant?” Omega asked innocently.

“It is the galactic capital and, thus, the heart of the Empire.” Tech answered.

“But the Empire thinks we’re dead.” Echo mused. “They won’t be looking for us.”

“I’d like to keep it that way.” Hunter argued.

“It’s a covert mission.” Rex stated. “A simple data extraction but a crucial one. “I’ll send over a flight plan to bypass Imperial security and coordinates to a safe landing zone.”

“We’re on our way.” Echo said.

--

You had mediated for the majority of the journey, but it had been an arduous process and you weren’t feeling much better for it. You came out of your last attempt with an irritated sigh as you sensed that you would be leaving hyperspace soon. The others were all geared up, so you reached under your bunk and pulled out your armour.

You were able to slide on your vambraces and blaster holster no problem but as soon as you started to work on your shoulder and upper arm armour, your hands started to shake. “Fuck off, not now. Get a grip.” You chastised yourself.

“Let me?”

You looked up to see Hunter holding his hand out. You gave him a resigned smile as you held the pieces out for him. “Thanks.”

Hunter took them and sat next to you. “You wanna tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

“Just nervous about going to the heart of Imperial territory.” You said shiftily.

“No, that’s not all of it.” Hunter pushed gently. “Sweetheart, you need to talk to me about this. Please?” He finished up with one arm before he moved to your other side and got to work.

You sighed. What if it’s still there?

“The Jedi Temple?” Hunter asked delicately as he fastened the last part. He rested a hand on your thigh whilst he waited for you to talk.

You nodded. Or what if it’s not? I don’t know what would be worse.

Hunter didn’t really know what words he could offer that could provide comfort. Your situation was a rather unique one. He pulled you closer and let you lay your head on his lap and rubbed his hand up and down your side.

When I first made the decision to leave, it felt so simple, I didn’t regret it. Then the months went by, and the doubt crept in, and I started to second-guess everything, and it tore me apart. All those years I was by myself, I was never sure of what to do and that was going to get me killed. So, I decided to forget, I stopped thinking about the Jedi, the Jedi Temple and Coruscant and it got better but now we’re going back and… “Hunter, what if I can’t handle it?” You said aloud, your voice wavering. “I’m a wreck right now and we haven’t even entered the atmosphere.”

Hunter nudged you to sit up.

You did so but didn’t make eye contact with him and kept your head low.

He curled a finger under your chin.

You held his gaze. “This mission-”

“Is covert and that’s all we know which is the crux of the issue. We’re going into the heart of Imperial territory blind and that’s never easy, but we can do this, we’ve done similar stuff before, and you know this. You’re spiralling because you’re coming back to a hard part of your life, and you don’t know how things’ll go or what’s there and it’s scary but we’re all here for each other. It will be okay. Trust me on this?” He placed his hands on top of your shoulders. He knew when you needed a firm helping hand rather than a shoulder to lean on and right now, you were overthinking, and he needed to help you pull back.

You released a shaky breath but nodded. He was right, you could do it. It’s just a more personal location but you could deal.

“You have a team of people here. You’re not alone anymore, whatever you can’t handle, we’ll pick up.” He said tenderly.

You gave him a grateful smile before you leaned in and kissed him softly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He murmured before he kissed your forehead and together, the two of you stood and walked to the cockpit.

You stood behind the co-pilot’s chair as Hunter in it just as the ship left hyperspace. You took in the familiar sight of the city-planet- the outside all lit and covered in the rings that signified the thriving city below.

“We are approaching Coruscant.” Tech said from the pilot’s chair.

Omega stood in between the two seats and eagerly stared out the window.

“Everyone, stay ready.” Hunter advised as the ship entered the planet.

You’re not going to look for it. You thought to yourself as the ship flew through. Keep your eyes forward and focused on what the mission actually is.

--

The Marauder touched down in a hangar bay on one of the lower levels.

Hunter opened the door and led the way out.

“Glad you made it.” Rex said as he came out to greet you all. He moved slightly closer to Hunter. “She okay being back here?” He asked discretely.

Before Hunter could say anything, you beat him to the punch.

“She’s fine.” You groused. “She had her moment earlier but is back to normal now so watch your tone, Captain.” You said firmly but your smile softened any unintentional hostility. It was then you realised exactly who it was standing behind him. “Senator Chuchi?!” You couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Uh, yes. Do I know you?” She asked, slightly surprised that you knew who she was.

You cleared your throat. She didn’t need to know that in your time here during the war, one of your main duties was assigning senator protection detail and hunting down threats- a job that kept you rather busy with regards to this particular senator. “No, just a fan of your past work, that’s all.” You said hastily before you took a small step back.

“This is Senator Riyo Chuchi.” Rex made the formal introductions to the rest of you. “These are the special clones I told you about.”

“Hello.” Omega waved at the senator.

“And you?” Senator Chuchi asked you, curious as to where you fit with this group. The squad in of itself was already an interesting sight. Special was right, she had never seen a group of clones like this, especially a group with a child in their ranks. And you were an addition that strengthened the remarkable nature of you all.

You shrugged. “We never really figured out a term for my spot here. I’m just a permanent helping hand.”

Riyo accepted that. “Thank you for coming.” She said to all of you.

Hunter nodded before he angled his head to Rex. “Why are we here, Captain?”

Rex signalled to the room behind him. “Inside. There’s something I want you to see.”

--

You had an eery feeling as you stared at the coffin on the table, and you stuck an arm out to stop Omega from getting closer.

Rex opened the hatch, so the head of the body was visible.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the dead clone.

“He’s an assassin.” Rex explained. “His identifying number’s been wiped.”

Tech was taken aback by that piece of information. “I was not aware that was possible.” He said, sharing a look with Hunter.

“Who was his target?” Hunter asked.

“A clone contact of mine named Slip. He said he was in danger. I came to Coruscant to get him out, but the assassin got to him first. Nearly got the senator too.” Rex replied.

Your eyes caught the faint flicker of both fear and regret in the senator’s eyes. You figured she’d been there trying to help the clone that got killed.

“Why would a clone be targeting another clone… or a senator?” Echo asked.

“To silence us.” Senator Chuci answered. “Admiral Rampart has the entire Senate believing Kamino was lost to a cataclysmic storm. Slip witnessed the truth.” She hung her head for a moment before she addressed the group once more. “I wanted him to testify to Rampart’s crimes.”

“We were there too, Senator. I can be your witness.” Echo offered.

“The Senate won’t listen to any of us.” Hunter said. “We’re deserters.”

“Hunter’s right.” Rex agreed. “But there’s another way to provide the Senate with the evidence of the Empire’s crimes. The command log on Rampart’s Venator.” He revealed. “Slip made a copy of it on the ship’s backup data banks.”

“Where’s the Venator now?” Wrecker asked.

Being retrofitted at the Imperial shipyard right here on Coruscant. Lots of security, but I know a way in.”

“Rampart’s Defense Recruitment Bill goes to a vote tomorrow.” Riyo said. “We must prove his crimes before it passes. I’ll return to the Senate and garner support where I can.”

“Senator, who’s on your security detail?” You couldn’t help but ask. You remembered a quite a few headaches being caused by this senator. You admired her to no end, but she had made your job rather difficult at times.

“She’s right. You could still be in danger.” Rex said, concerned.

“Then I must be on the right track. I have my guards, I’ll be alright.” She said bravely.

“I can go with her and keep an eye out.” Omega suggested.

Not quite what I would’ve gone with. You thought to yourself, but it would take Omega away from the main danger which was something. And it was a good way to ease her into handling more stuff on her own and see how the more lawful side of the galaxy attempted to operate.

“You can’t enter the Senate district without an Imperial security clearance.” Riyo said to the young girl.

“That will not be a problem.” Tech said confidently.

“Then let’s get to work.” Rex said.

--

Whilst Omega was being another set of eyes and learning the ways of politics, the rest of you began your infiltration.

The first part of the process involved a steep climb up a ladder beneath the belly of the shipping yard.

Wrecker groaned as his pack got shocked by the electric current in the space behind him. He risked a glance up to see that there was still a way to go yet, much to his dismay.

--

You all made it successfully through the first level but there was still another hatch to get through.

“I got it.” You said before you lifted a hand and used the Force as a guide as you searched for weak points in the hatch.

“Haven’t been in these maintenance tunnels since the war.” Rex reminisced.

“Gotta say, Rex. Coruscant’s the last place I’d expect you to be.” Echo said.

“It’s worth the risk.” Rex replied. “More and more of our brothers are waking up to what’s been done to them. I can’t turn my back on them.”

“How many have you reached?”

“Not enough.” Rex said with disappointment. “Troopers who know too much are a liability to the Empire. I’m working with a few contacts I trust, but we’re spread pretty thin. Help’s hard to come by these days.”

That struck something within Echo, but he pushed it to the back of his mind for now.

“Got it.” You called as you flicked your wrist and the hatch opened.

“Great. Ray shields.” Wrecker grumbled as he peered up.

“Leave it to me.” Tech said before he got to work on the control panel.

“And how are we getting onto Rampart’s Venator?” Hunter asked.

“I’m taking a lesson from your squad. We improvise.” Rex answered.

“Hey, we’re role models!” You said with an over-the-top cheery disposition that sounded foreign to your ears. You noticed the quizzical helmeted looks that were sent your way. “I can’t explain that.”

Hunter noted the change in your demeanour, and it definitely had a slightly different vibe to it, but he put it down to you handling your emotions about being back on this planet, so he didn’t press the matter. As long as he was sure your head was still focused on the job right now, he didn’t need to worry.

Tech stared at his datapad. When it looked like things were in place, he programmed it in and turned back in the direction of the ray shields and each one promptly deactivated.

The climb started again.

--

Wrecker opened the top hatch and led the way out.

Now’s where it for tricky. Being out of the tunnels meant less places to hide and with troopers patrolling the area, the chances of discovery increased dramatically.

You all ran as quietly and as covertly as you could, using the underside of ledges and hiding behind stands as cover.

You all paused to analyse the situation.

Echo peered out from behind a column and all he could see was open space patrolled by soldiers and droids. “There’s not enough cover. We won’t get across the shipyard undetected.” He said to Hunter.

An idea popped into Hunter’s head as he saw the smaller transport ships. “Not on foot.”

“Brilliant!” You admired before you mentally checked yourself. What the fuck were you doing? It was a good plan but usually you kept your appreciation more internal or at least more low key. It was then you suddenly realised that you went from nearly having a breakdown over coming back to replacing your nervous energy with exaggerated optimism and that was somehow more concerning.

“Thank you?” Hunter said. Yeah, you were definitely unsure of how to deal with whatever set of feelings it was you were working out right now.

“Everyone ignore me, please. Unless it’s urgent, I will be shutting up from here on out.” You mumbled awkwardly as you walked over to a column closer to the front.

“Is everything definitely okay with her?” Rex whispered to Hunter as he watched you walk away.

“Yeah, I think she’s just figuring out how to deal with how she’s feeling about being back here. She’s fine, she’s not a risk to the mission.” Hunter reassured before he saw the free moment. “Move.” He ordered.

The group of you dashed across to the next transport ship and clung on to the underside of it just as it took off.

Hunter stuck his vibroblade into a panel and it fell away which gave Tech the access he needed to become the pilot.

Rex glanced over to see Wrecker groaning and mumbling ‘don’t look down’ to himself. “He’s still not better with heights?”

“This is him better.” Echo said.

You risked letting a hand go to give Wrecker’s shoulder a sympathetic pat.

Tech fiddled with his datapad. “I have bypassed the controls. Hang on.” He took command and drove the transport in the direction of the Venator.

One particularly bumpy lift of the transport had you all readjusting your grips.

“Tech.” Hunter cautioned.

Tech quickly got the transport up and over the top of the Venator. He unplugged his datapad. “Now.” He signalled.

You all let go and a safe landing meant you all able to get up and run to the nearest way in.

Tech breached the system of the door panel and succeeded in opening it for you all to go through.

--

You all drew your blasters as you headed for the bridge of the ship. As soon as the first set of doors opened, Hunter and Rex led the way and stunned the first two troopers.

The main doors to the bridge opened and a quick scan told you all it was guard free, and you took up your watch positions.

Tech tapped into the system. “Well, that is unfortunate.”

“Wanna narrow that down?” Rex asked him from the position by the front windows that he and Hunter had taken.

Tech looked through his datatpad. “Energy conduits are offline. The only way to retrieve the data is the reroute power, which will most likely signal a security breach.” He finished, looking over at Hunter and Rex.

“How much time will we have?” Hunter asked.

Tech looked at his datapad once more. “Not much.”

“Then let’s make it quick.” Echo said.

Tech nodded and together he and Echo got the power back on.

The Venator bridge reactivated, and it was time to start the clock.

--

As the alarm sounded, you sensed the bodies on the other side of the door. “We’re gonna have some company.” You called over as you got your blaster ready.

“Seal the door.” Hunter directed.

You fired a shot into the control panel, but it didn’t do much, they started the override process quickly and the doors started to stagger open. “The door won’t hold much longer.” You warned.

“I am expediting the file transfer as quickly as possible.” Tech replied.

As soon as he finished his sentence, the door whirred open and troopers starting firing at you.

You, Hunter, Rex, and Wrecker took cover and fired stun blasts back, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until reinforcements arrived.

Hunter noticed the ships coming to provide support. “New plan. 14, 5, 86.”

“All of them?” Wrecker double checked.

“Yes.” Hunter confirmed.

You bit back the positive affirmation about to leave your mouth. It was most definitely not the time to start that up again.

“Echo, man the cannons. Deal with air support.” Hunter ordered.

Tech grabbed the datacard and put it in a case. “Data transfer is complete!”

“Plan 5, set!” Echo confirmed.

“Activate.” Hunter instructed.

Echo powered up the engines and the ship started to pull against its secure lockdown.

The resultant chaos gave you the opportunity you needed to make a break for it. With you firing off more stun shots and Wrecker barging through the remaining clones, you all successfully made it out of the bridge.

--

“Security teams will be swarming this trench. We need an exit strategy.” Rex said as you all sprinted through the ship corridors.

“Got one. We’re going over them.” You revealed.

“Over them?” Rex repeated.

--

The Venator smashed to the ground and the resulting vibration had you all stumbling for a moment which gave the Imperial troopers a chance to catch up, but you dealt with them swiftly enough.

Echo opened the hatch to the escape pods.

Rex paused outside the entrance to one. You all had confidently ran into one, but he saw a problem. “These escape pods are non-operational.”

“We only need them to eject. I can handle the rest.” Tech said confidently.

“This should be interesting.” Rex mused as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

Tech got the pod in the air and got in heading in the direction of the maintenance tunnels.

The pod crashed to the ground.

Hunter pushed open the door and examined the landing. “Not bad.” He complimented his brother before he stepped out.

“I was off by 6.4 meters. Not my best.” Tech disputed.

You did a light skip past Tech as you left the escape pod. “Don’t put yourself down, Tech. What’s important is that we all made it out safely.” It was out your mouth before you could stop it. “Shut up shut up shut up.” You mumbled in a panicked fashion to yourself as you reached the entrance to the maintenance tunnels first. Fuck, you skipped! Skipped! Force did you want some other outlet for the anxiety you were unable to channel properly.

You waved a hand and the hatch to the tunnels opened.

“It’s almost morning. We need to hurry.” Rex stressed.

--

Rex and Echo boarded the speeder and set off to the meeting spot.

Omega looked up to see them come around the corner. She dashed up and took the case from Rex.

“Get this to Senator Tuchi. Hurry!” He said.

Omega ran back into the senate building.

--

As Echo and Rex returned, it became a waiting game. You only hoped the information would be enough to stop Rampart.

Hunter removed his helmet and faced you. “Well, you managed it. You alright?”

You nodded. “Yup. Had a moment of channelling a terrifying alter ego but yeah, I managed.” You said with a light laugh.

“Wasn’t that terrifying. More… weird.” Hunter teased.

“Oh, perfect.” You said with a playful frown.

Hunter placed a delicate kiss to the wrinkle in your brow to soothe you. “Weird is good.” He murmured.

You smiled fondly at him but there was a glint of mischief behind your eyes. If a situation like this ever arises again, you’re my new outlet.

Hunter released a low sigh. That was something he could get on board with. He couldn’t help himself, he placed a soft kiss to your lips.

“Come on.” Wrecker complained. “We’re all still here.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.  

“Clearly I missed something.” Rex said with a knowing smirk. He’d called it all those months ago on Bracca.

“Just over 6 months and that’s all the information you’re getting, Captain.” You said with a grin.

“Wasn’t looking for much more.” Rex kidded.

A few comfortable beats of silence passed before Echo’s voice spoke up.

“Hey, guys. I… I need to talk to you about something.”

--

Having been successful in getting the information to Senator Organa- another ally in this fight- Omega hid and watched the replay of her home behind destroyed and the pain of that day came flooding back but the panic in Rampart’s face and the outraged cries echoing throughout the chamber made things a bit easier.

All of a sudden, an alarm started blaring throughout the room and the clamouring grew quiet.

Omega withdrew further into her place of cover as a deep chill went down her spine upon Chancellor Palpatine entering the chamber and the video of the destruction of Kamino ended. All she could do was listen and remain unseen as his advisor spoke.

“It would appear that Senator Chuchi’s horrific assertions are correct.”

Omega released a small, triumphant sigh. Maybe what she was feeling was intimidation rather than fear, it seemed like Chancellor Palpatine believed the footage and would do something about it. The advisor continued to speak.

“This unprovoked attack on Kamino was a cowardly act by Admiral Rampart to further his own personal agenda. Guards, arrest and detain the Admiral.” The yelling continued as Rampart got arrested and it threated to break out of control, and he knew his master needed quiet for the next stage. He banged his staff. “Order! We shall have order!”

When everyone quieted down, Chancellor Palpatine stepped forward. Sometimes it really was too easy. “I am deeply troubled by this recent revelation. My gratitude to Senator Chuchi for exposing a rogue element within our ranks. Many lives have been lost, but I assure you, Admiral Rampart will face consequences for his treachery. However, he did not act alone. The fact that the clones under his command so blindly followed orders, inflicting such carnage without hesitation, gives me pause.”

Omega listened on in nervous wonder. That tingling fear was creeping back in. What did he mean?

“Perhaps, it is time for a change.” Chancellor Palpatine proposed. “Now more than ever, building a strong galaxy requires protection and security. Due to the nefarious actions of Admiral Rampart, and the immediacy of the bill on the floor today, it is my opinion that this legislation is our future. With this momentous act, we shall usher in a new era. Heralded by the Imperial stormtrooper.”

No! Omega thought to herself, how could this have happened? What did they miss? The bill would be pushed through, and the clones would be cast aside and rejected. How had they failed them?

--

As Senator Chuchi and Omega finished filling you in, you found your natural demeanour returning and if you were angry, you couldn’t begin to imagine how the others were feeling. You thought you had the Empire this time, you thought you had finally found a way to cut through them, but it was all for nothing. You hadn’t helped protect the clones; you’d seen to their downfall.

“Palpatine was one step ahead of us during the war, and he’s still several steps ahead of us. We played right into his hands.” Rex said frustratedly.

“I don’t understand. We did the right thing. We told the truth.” Omega said.

“And he twisted it to his advantage.” Hunter explained, doing his best to keep his disappointment at bay.

“He knows how to manipulate the system, Omega. Doing the right thing doesn’t get you very far with him.” You said tightly as you remembered how he conducted himself during your time with the Order.

“The Emperor wanted us to implicate Rampart to get what he was after all along. Senate approval for his stormtrooper program.” Rex growled.

“The fate of all the clones is now sealed, because of us. What’s gonna happen to them?” Echo asked, concern and regret laced in his voice.

“I don’t know.” Senator Chuchi replied with a regretful sigh. “But I will keep fighting for the clones. You all deserve the same rights as every citizen.” She bent down to face Omega. “I won’t give up.”

Omega believed her. She’d proven she cared and that was what was needed.

“If you need anything, Rex, just say the word.” Hunter told the clone captain. “Senator.” He dipped his head in goodbye before he turned to Echo and rested his hand on his shoulder. “Wherever you end up, remember what I said.” He headed back in the direction of the ship.

“Don’t get into trouble without us.” Wrecker said with an affectionate punch to Echo’s arm.

“Without us?” Omega asked curiously.

Shit. You forgot she didn’t know and that made everything far worse. You took your moment to quickly hug him, and you didn’t just yourself to speak out loud. Be careful, okay?

Echo nodded at you as you stepped away.

“Best of luck, Echo.” Tech said sincerely before he followed you and Wrecker to the ship.

“Luck with what?” Omega asked him as you all left.

This suddenly became a lot more difficult than he had been expecting. “I’m going with Rex.” Echo revealed to her. “The clones will need our help now more than ever. I can’t turn my back on them.”

“You- You can’t leave.” Omega stammered. “We’re- We’re a squad.”

He knew she wouldn’t understand as clearly as the rest of you had and he knew he had to make this as easy as possible for her. “Omega, this is something I have to do. I’m going where I’m needed.”

She couldn’t fully accept that. “But we need you too.” She choked out.

Echo kneeled in front of her and placed his helmet down so he could lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not forever. I’ll be back. Keep up with your training while I’m gone. Huh? Understood?”

Omega threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

Echo hesitated for a moment. This was a level of intimacy he hadn’t reached with Omega yet, but he didn’t mind it. He placed arms around her and returned the embrace.

Omega pulled back. “Yes, Sir.” She sniffed as she wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

Echo stood. “Keep an eye on them.” He directed with a slight smile as he signalled for the young girl to head back to the ship.

--

Hunter waited for Omega at the top of the ship’s steps. Another brother gone. But he was just grateful he wasn’t losing Echo to the clutches of the Empire.

“How are you doing?” You asked, entwining your fingers with his as you both watched Echo and Omega say their goodbyes.

“Fine.” Hunter replied briefly.

“Really?” You titled your head at him. “You don’t have to be.”

Hunter sighed. “I am fine. I just hope he finds what he’s looking for and that he stays safe.”

“We’ll see him again. Choices, remember?”

Hunter nodded. “At least this choice I understand.” He said quietly with a hint of sadness.

You squeezed his hand in understanding and kissed the corner of his mouth before you turned back into the main body of the ship, only releasing his hand at the last moment.

He let his hand fall back to his side and straightened up as Omega came up the steps. He placed a gentle hand on her back as she walked into the ship.

--

Echo watched as the ship lifted off. He knew it wasn’t the last time he would see you all, but it would take some getting used to. For now, though, his path was elsewhere.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @starwarsnerd111, @skelllymom, @dorck26

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch s2 #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 6)

Summary: You try out something new with Tech. As it turns out, like with pretty much everything, he knows exactly what he’s doing.  

Relationship: Tech x f!reader (mentions of Hunter x f!reader, Echo x f!reader, Wrecker x f!reader and Crosshair x f!reader)

NSFW 18+ only. Further details and warnings below the cut. Please read the warnings.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, cock warming, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, drool/saliva, mouth finger fucking, verbal degradation, naked reader, praise kink, oral kink, possession, mental domination, humiliation, poor self-worth, feelings, smut with feelings, finger sucking, dirty talk, cock gag, dildos, cum filling, reader is referred to as a service slut and toy, not beta read, no use of y/n. Mentions of: Vaginal eating out (is this the right term?), rough sex, restraints, biting, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism. 

Chapter Summary: Tech is reassuring in his own way. You reminisce about previous times with Hunter, Wrecker and Echo, featuring quite possibly the filthiest paragraph I have ever written. You finally get to suck on Tech’s fingers and then Tech gets very, very filthy with his words.   

Word Count: 2711  

Author’s Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. Comments feed my soul and cure my depression (if only for a moment).

I mentioned this above but this chapter includes the filthiest paragraph I have ever written. Can you figure out which one it is?

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five | Ao3

–––

Open and Waiting (Chapter 6)

I obediently kneel there, drooling around Tech’s fingers as they take ownership of my mouth. His index and middle fingers are resting on the pad of my tongue and his thumb is propped under my chin. 

It must be completely covered in my saliva by now. 

I still struggle to shake my self consciousness and inhibitions sometimes, and they’d definitely flared up when Tech suggested we try oral play for the first time. It’s something I wanted to try but had been too ashamed to admit. Worried that he’d find all that drool, and by extension me, disgusting. That train of thought had been swiftly shut down.

—

“You don’t think it’ll be, well…” I trail off.

An inscrutable look considers me from across the cockpit, waiting for me to finish.

“...gross?” I conclude weakly, gesturing vaguely while staring at a suddenly very interesting spot on the floor.

“No.” Tech states simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the universe.

“No?” I hesitantly check.

“No. Why would I?” he asks.

“I’d be drooling all over you. You’re not going to find that…disgusting?” I ask carefully. 

“There are many disgusting things in the universe. Human saliva is not one of them. It is a perfectly normal bodily fluid. I would be more concerned if you did not produce any.” Tech states. 

“So you don’t mind being covered in my drool then?” I triple check.

“No. We are soldiers. I have been covered in far worse. A moderate amount of human saliva is hardly an imposition.” he says.  

Ah, true. I shudder as the bogs on Nal Hutta come to mind. That mission had been awful and we had all ended up covered in the fetid gunk from the swamps on that hellhole of a planet. Hunter had nearly been driven to shave off his hair to try and rid himself of the smell.

Tech spins in his pilot's chair to fully face me, an almost imperceptible softness to his expression that you wouldn’t know was there unless you actually knew him.     

“Cyar'ika, you know that one of my interests, kinks, if you will, is mental domination.” he says, almost as if he’s reminding me.

“Yeah” I reply, unable to stop the smile forming on my lips.

“I am particularly interested in exploring mental domination through the application of oral play. To have your mouth open before me, lips parted as I map the contours of your tongue with my fingers and slowly unravel the layers of your mind. The unrestrained drooling a continual reminder of your submission and obedience. There you are, so completely under my thrall, that you are not permitted to even swallow and are instead reduced to expunging saliva from your oral cavity by covering yourself in your own drool.” he explains.

I blink and consciously feel myself swallow. 

“Sounds enticing, does it not?” he asks lightly around a smirk. 

I tip my head back against the chair and slowly exhale.

“Kriff Tech, if you keep that up I…” 

“You will?” Tech asks cheekily.

“I—ah, well, I’d, um…” I attempt, before giving up on trying to formulate an actual response.

Tech leans forward, his entire focus and attention pinning me to the chair. 

“Please do not be concerned that I might find your drooling repulsive. I assure you, that is not the case. I am deeply enthusiastic about exploring oral play with you. That will involve saliva, and it does not bother me at all.” he states emphatically, tone brokering no room for argument. 

“Ok. Thank you.” I reply softly. 

It’s genuine and I mean it. His steadfast reassurance is a comforting relief.

Tech leans back in his chair and regards me with a sly grin before delivering the coup de grâce to my self-conscious worryings.

“I am also very much looking forward to seeing you reduced to a slobbering mess.” he casually declares.

Oh. 

Tech lets the moment extend before deciding he’s had enough fun messing with me for now and turns back to the controls. 

“Besides, human saliva is essentially just water.” he adds.

Now, that is an excuse for a lecture if I’ve ever heard one. I smile fondly and decided to indulge him.

“Really?”

“Yes. The composition of saliva is 99.5% water, along with numerous electrolytes, mucus, antibacterial compounds…”

—

As Tech reminded me, they’re soldiers. They’ve all seen, dealt with, and been covered in far worse. Drool probably seems boring in comparison. 

It also probably explains why all of them don’t mind when it gets messy. 

Wrecker loves to use generous amounts of lube. By the time he’s finished with me, we’re usually both lathered in the stuff. Which has led to some amusing and slippery moments afterwards while trying to clean up. Though we do have to be careful not to slip over in the stuff. I really don’t want to try and explain how a broken tailbone was caused by slipping over in lube. That would make for a decidedly embarrassing entry in a medical record.

Hunter has an almost obsession with eating me out. He will shove his face in my pussy and lick and suck and mouth away like a starved man. By the time he’s satiated his hunger, I am a trembling, breathless mess, voice hoarse from screaming. When my poor, overstimulated pussy finally gets a break, I’ll look down and he’ll be hovering over my mound with a feral grin, my juices covering his face and dripping down his jaw. It’s a good thing he’s got lots of hair to grip onto because my hand will stay clenched in his curls, holding on for dear life as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of me. He’s particularly fond of doing this in the cockpit. Stripping me of my clothes and sitting me in one of the chairs, legs spread wide, sometimes even hooked over the arm rests, as he sets about devouring me. Crosshair had walked in on us once and Hunter had actually growled and snarled into my pussy, his eyes flashing with a dark territorial look as his fingers gripped and dug into my hips.  

The message was clear. I was his meal. And he would not be sharing.

Very little makes Crosshair retreat but he’d turned on his heel and walked straight back out of the cockpit. 

Hunter had bound my hands behind the headrest with his bandana and roughly fucked me into the chair after that. Legs hooked over the arm rests and splayed wide open, I’d been powerless beneath him, his hips repeatedly pistoning into me as he littered my neck with teeth marks.  

There’s an animal deep within him, an almost primal beast, that comes out sometimes. And when it does, all you can do is strap in, because it is one hell of a ride. 

Echo also enjoys eating me out, though he’s not quite as wild as Hunter. Not that that’s a bad thing. Neither is better than the other and it’s not about comparing them. It’s just different approaches, both of which are immensely enjoyable. I am certainly not complaining. Echo prefers to savour the experience whenever we’re together. Light touches and languid kisses drawing out the moment as we map each other's bodies. I’ll often end up drifting in a haze of pleasure, sensation, and submission as he mouths and laps at the one spot on my neck that he knows is particularly sensitive. Plus he’s always an absolute gentleman.

Well, apart from when he makes me masturbate in front of him, touching myself according to his commands. He’ll sit in the shadows, directing the show, as I sit in the light and am made to perform for him. It’s a litany of orders all building to a climax. 

Cup your breast. Roll your nipple between your fingers. Part your legs. Suck on your fingers. Stroke your folds. Rub your clit. Slide a finger inside yourself. Moan. Stick out your breasts. Start fucking yourself with your finger. Quicker. Open your mouth. Add another finger. Scissor them. Moan again. Rock your hips. Arch your back. Curl your fingers. Find your g-spot. Touch your clit. Keep touching your clit. Rub circles around it. Moan. Louder. Thrust your hips. Pump your fingers in and out of your pussy. Keep moaning. Fuck yourself on your fingers. Harder. Faster. Keep rubbing your clit. Let your tits bounce. Keep fucking yourself on your fingers. Let me hear you squelching. Yes. More. Harder. Faster. Keep going. Deeper. Faster. Faster. More. Harder. Come.     

Once the first act is over, I’ll have to stay there, still and unmoving, until his commands begin again. It doesn’t matter if I have my fingers buried in my dripping cunt or my legs wide apart, slick dribbling out of my pussy on full display, I am not allowed to move until he commands.

No more commands have come from my current dominant either. Tech is still just sitting there, observing me, as he keeps his fingers in my open and waiting mouth. I feel like an object of study under his critical eye. Like some kind of experiment to be examined, reactions noted and observations catalogued as he considers the impact of different variables. 

He’s also waiting for something.

Waiting for me to turn into even more of a dishevelled wreck, probably. 

I can feel my saliva run down the insides of my cheeks, pooling at the edges of my tongue that is kept in place by his fingers. I desperately want to suck on them, wrapping my lips around his long, slender digits and running my tongue along their length. 

But I cannot. Sir has not permitted me this pleasure. Not yet. 

Instead my mouth stays resolutely open, jaw slack, lips parted, tongue stationary, as he keeps his fingers resting there. Drool continues to spill over my bottom lip and dribble over my chin before hanging obscenely below my face. I am humbling myself around his fingers and the self-abasement is just making me wetter.   

Evidently, my current dominant knows me better than I know myself, because a new command is directed down at me. 

“You may now begin to suck.”

Tech has barely finished the direction before I’m sucking hard on his fingers, running my tongue along his digits and sliding my lips across his skin. My relieved moans mix with the sounds of truly lurid slurping as I coat his fingers. More drool escapes my mouth and runs down my chin but I am past the point of caring. I know I’m a slavering desperate wreck, prostrating myself on Tech’s fingers, and the ignominy of it all is coiling deliciously up my spine. As I continue to lap and suck at his digits, I’m dimly aware of something wet at the inner join between my leg and groin. I guess Tech’s fingers aren’t the only thing that’s dripping then.       

He’s continuing to watch me with a knowing smile, eyes crinkling slightly in amusement. There’s a sharp glint to them, the kind he gets when he’s figured out a particularly vexing conundrum and is now twenty steps ahead of the poor bastard who thought they could get away with tricking him.

I’m in trouble now. 

“An admirable display of enthusiasm.” he observes.

The light touch of praise just makes me moan around his fingers and redouble my efforts. Sir instructed me to coat his fingers with my slobber and I must do it properly. The slurping noises are reaching a new level of debauched as I continue to bob my head, lips repeatedly sliding over his long fingers. 

Tech’s thumb pushes against my chin and compels me to look directly up at him.

“A substantial amount of pleasure and satisfaction gained from suckling on just two fingers. How intriguing.” he notes. 

Sir, that is your science voice.   

“I wonder, given your penchant towards oral insertables, how this adorable little trait could be exploited for a more enhanced experience.” Tech ponders.

Ok, that’s the ‘I’m-inventing-things’ voice, which is slightly more concerning. 

“Imagine your mouth permanently filled with an object of more girth and weight than just my fingers.” he continues with slowly increasing delectation.  

Oh, that is definitely not his science voice.

Tech’s eyes sharpen as he leans closer, a touch of savagery playing about his lips.

“I could keep you muzzled with a cock gag and you would thank me for it, if you could get a word out.” he concludes with almost ferocious satisfaction.

Force, yes.

I can’t contain my reaction as my eyes roll back and my eyelids flicker across my vision. There’s an utterly desperate and rough moan coming from deep within my chest and an instinctual and heavy, whole body jerk has my hips thrusting against air. My cunt throbs in need.

Yes Sir. Please gag me. Please keep me muzzled. Kriff, that would just be so— 

“Ah.” he proclaims in amusement. I can hear the smile in his voice just as much as I can see it spread across his face. 

“You have given yourself away, darling. That was unequivocal desire written plainly across your ruined features. I shall have to add a cock gag to my list of toys to make.” he purrs in satisfaction.

Well, I’m certainly not going to complain. It will be perfectly crafted like all the other toys and gear he’s made. Though I get the distinct impression that Tech orchestrated this entire exchange as a set up to extract the admission from me. Devious sod.

“Stay there and keep sucking” he says nonchalantly while reaching across the workbench. 

Sir, where the kriff would I go? It’s not like I can get up and I am quite happy kneeling here sucking on your fingers, thank you very much.

Tech brings his other hand back into view and it’s holding his datapad, which he’s tapping away at. He’s actually adding a cock gag to his list of toys to make. Of course he is.

I continue to dutifully mouth and suck on his fingers, curling my tongue around his knuckles and dragging my lips over his skin. Drool is everywhere and I do not care.      

Tech places his datapad back on the workbench and looks over at something further down the ship. Whatever caught his attention is considered for a moment before he looks back down at me, eyes sparkling with devilry.

“We could keep you chained to our bunks, heavy muzzle keeping you silent as the cock gag fills your mouth. Of course, your other orifices would have to be filled as well. Large dildos plugging your pussy and ass, keeping you open and stretched for us to use at our leisure. The pretty little noises you make are most satisfactory so you will not need the use of your mouth, apart from when we feel so inclined to use it ourselves.” he describes in excruciating detail.

Tech reaches out with his remaining gloved hand and caresses the side of my face, thumb brushing across my cheek. There’s a cocky and particularly self-satisfied smirk playing across his lips.     

“Our little service slut. Only there to exist as a toy to be used and filled with cum.” he finishes.

My mind has completely short circuited at his words and I’m breathing heavily, desperately panting around his fingers, my tits bouncing and swaying. What I wouldn’t give to exist as their toy to be played with and used as they see fit. My cunt pulses in agreement and I can feel more of my slick dribble down my inner thigh. 

Tech continues to cup my face, the texture of his glove gently grazing over my cheek. I nuzzle into his hand and whine around his fingers, still desperately sucking on them and drawing them into my mouth. There’s drool running down my neck and I can feel a line of it sliding over a breast. Submission has settled heavily over me and the lewd slurping emanating from my mouth is only serving to further intensify the delectable humiliation stirring in my gut and firing down my bones.

The worn leather strokes my face one last time before Tech sits back to observe his submissive kneeling between his knees.          

“Now, about that verbal degradation kink of yours.” he comments.

Oh no.     

—

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you enjoyed it! Comments feed my soul and cure my depression (if only for a moment).

Hehe cliffhanger. This one ended up being somewhat written on purpose, rather than the one at the end of Chapter 2, where I had no idea what I was doing (I still don’t). Also, this chapter contains the first flashback I’ve ever written! 

So, I’ve got good news and bad news.

The good news is that I’m much happier with this chapter! Both it and Chapter 5 were written in a burst of inspiration accompanied by frantic keyboard mashing. However, this does lead us on to the bad news, which is that I haven’t finished Chapter 7 yet. I’m currently arguing with it and had a bit of a breakthrough last night so there’s now about 1100+ words done so far. That said, it’s much slower going and I’m struggling. It’s probably because this is the most dialogue heavy chapter so far and I want to make sure I get Tech right. He has a clearly identifiable voice and way of speaking, and the way in which he uses language is particularly distinct. At the moment he’s not being particularly cooperative so I’m going to have to lock him in the cockpit or bribe him with interesting bugs or something. 

All of this is to say that there probably isn’t going to be any kind of posting schedule from now on (was there ever?). I’ve also been writing quite a lot on other projects. I hinted at this in a creator self-promo post I was tagged in but I’ve got heaps of other WIPs in various states and I’ve started even more since then. One of these is my first SFW fic that I’ve written a decent chunk of and am plugging away at in the background. I’ve also got the reaction posts I’m doing for my first watch-through of The Clone Wars and Rebels that I’m so behind on and have to get done before Ahsoka begins on August 23 (oh god, why have I done this to myself). Then there’s the analysis essay posts that have dropped off but I still have lots of ideas for and a few I still really want to write. Basically, I realised that I’ve actually got a lot of SFW writing in many different forms and have pretty much decided (for a multitude of reasons) that I’m going to start a SFW version of this blog and transplant and post my SFW stuff there. 

Fear not! The filth is not departing. This is definitely still going to remain my main blog. I’m still working on this fic, it’s not being ditched, and it is my main writing project and will be until I finish the damn thing. But when inspiration strikes and the single dopamine bashing about my skull deigns to give me The Inspiration, I’ve learned to go with what morsel I’ve been given and work on whatever my brain has decided it wants to focus on at that point in time. I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out and even good chunks of it written. There’s even about 1100+ words of after care written and that scene isn’t even close to finished. But right now the part I’m working on is proving really tricky and so the next chapter will appear when it finally cooperates and is ready. My apologies that your (somewhat) weekly dose of filth won’t appear on your dash consistently. I’ve come to realise that I’m much more of an it’ll-happen-when-it-happens writer, rather than one that has an upload schedule (thanks ADHD). Hopefully you’ll enjoy my SFW fics when they appear and will continue to enjoy this filth, and any future spicy fics, when I eventually finish them.   

Next Chapter Teaser: Tech has an exceptionally filthy vocabulary and he will make use of the entire length, breadth, and depth of his vast verbiage.

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant @dangraccoon @iamburdened @pheesupremacy @blondie-bluue @motte-the-goblin @xxeiraxx @tc-99 

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #tech x reader #tech x female reader #tech x f!reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech fanfiction #tech fanfic #the bad batch #star wars #tech #tbb tech #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #smut #18+ #minors dni

[anchanted-one]

Writer’s First Line

tagged by @jbnonsensework and @captainderyn​ . Thanks guys! This is a chance to go down memory lane. Sorry this is mostly swtor. I think I have a problem. A small one.

Tagging anyone who’s interested. 

edited slightly

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

I’ll be breaking the rules, since *I SUCK AT WRITING FIRST LINES*!

1. Children of the Storm, Prologue to the Records of Heroes Past.

The skies turned a pleasant shade of purple with the deepening dusk.

2. Book of Storms, Legend of Lightning

“Hold!” Lieutenant Taura Serris screamed at the top of her lungs. “HOLD, DAMN YOU! REINFORCEMENTS SHOULD BE HERE SOON!”

3. Book of Respite: Chapter ?: The Informant

Book of Respite is my book 2, which will be an anthology about my other leads. So although they’ll be one book, they’re each a separate story.

This one isn’t out yet, but it will be someday soon. I love how it’s come out; it’s a brief story about Cipher Nine set a short while before she’s dispatched to Hutta for the SWTOR Agent’s prologue (Okay this is crazy... just as I hit ctrl+v, one of the most badass Naruto Shippuden themes started playing on Youtube (’Martyr’). This is destiny. This chapter was meant to be written!)

Mercei Tanniels always took pains to arrive forty minutes before any meetings.

4. Book of Respite Chapter ??: The Poltergeist

This one’s about my Jedi Consular.

Devel Nirol always got picked last. 

5. Eternal War Part 1: Arcann’s War

The low hum of the Silver Pilgrim's Hyperdrive was as familiar and comforting to Arro as that of his Lightsaber.

6. Eternal War Part 2: Mission Scorpion

The bunker was nestled in the bowels of the Undercity.

7. Eternal War Part 3: Phantoms in the Ether

My mental health took a nosedive as I was writing this, so I abandoned it in favor of a full rewrite, which is Records of Heroes Past. You can still read this, but neither it nor its sister part ‘Wrath of the Dead’ will be updated. Not to mention, it will take a long time for me to reach this point in the rewrite. 

It was evening on the newly resettled patch of land on Ossus.

8. Eternal War Part 4: Wrath of the Dead

Jaesa meditated in the Force Enclave in Odessen. Something was calling her, something whose voice teased the outside edges of her hearing, and her gut told her it was highly important. But all her inner eye could see, for miles and miles, was an ocean, dark and deep, stretching out infinitely in all directions. It frightened her, but her resolve held.

9. Deciphered Diaries

This is from a one-shot for my Cipher Nine in both Eternal War and Records of Heroes Past universes. It’s set around the time of the Prequels. It ‘unveils’ my Cipher Nine, but at this point I’ve told everyone who’d listen who she really is, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.

Archivist’s notes: This cache of datafiles was discovered by the Jedi many years ago, in the abandoned command center of a military Outpost, of the planet named “Odessen”.

10. Shikar Company--The Exiled Hunters

This one is... A CLONE WARS FANFIC!!!!! How crazy is that?! Well... not very, since it’s behind Record of Heroes Past on my list of priorities. But still, this is a hint of what I have in store. Sorry for making this such a long exchange instead of one line, but it felt more appropriate. 

From Chapter 1: the Shame

“Aahhh… Welcome, my dear. At last you’ve arrived.”

“Dooku,” Sumana hissed. Her men surrounded both herself the cornered Count, who looked quite content to let himself get hemmed in.

“I admit, you knocked me off balance back there. Remarkable! I did not know there were Jedi quite like you. That controlled rage, that walk along the razor’s edge between Light and Dark, one which I thought was too blurred to see. Oh well. Forgive me, my child. But it ends here.”

Sumana shook her head in disbelief. “Is this your idea of a surrender?”

“No, my child. It’s my farewell. Captain Shikar? Execute Order Sixty-Six.”

#first line tag #first line tag meme #star wars #swtor #The Clone Wars #jedi knight #hero of tython #imperial agent #cipher nine #jedi consular

[tiredassmage]

🖊

Can ramble about anything but: what have been the hardest moments in Tyr’s career? Professionally or personally

Stars, let me just.... [checks the plot summary of Imperial Agent] Where do we even start? xD

Once again, I finished this and I'm staring at it and I... rambled, alright. You've been warned. xD

There's obviously... a lot that happens throughout the IA storyline and a lot of it is definitely difficult by nature, so I'll probably touch on at least a few of them, but I'll try to dig at some of perhaps the less obvious aspects first.

The dissolution of Imperial Intelligence is one of the sort of overarching losses that shakes what he considered his foundation. I think I've mentioned before that Tyr still held loyalty for Imperial Intelligence, even if his faith in the Empire as a whole had been... shaken, to put it extremely lightly.

Tyr would likely never say it to the man's face out of respect, but the Minister of Intelligence was probably the closest to a father figure that Tyr ever respected. Even as early as Hutta, he understood his actions didn't reflect just on his own proficiency as an operative. That's just not how chain of command functions in their society, especially with a Sith breathing down their necks.

So, there's a part of him that knows it's... a little fucked up that he doesn't ever quite hold the Minister responsible for the Castellan Restraints. Tyr was semi-predisposed to mistrust with the Sith given the nature of his strained relationship with his elder adoptive sister, Mavis - a more typical fireball of a young Sith who had privilege, knew it, and never shied away from her status. Tyr was also nothing if not mission-focused and incredibly driven, so what anger he does have about his treatment at the moment he has an opportunity to confront the Minister about it is with the Dark Council, with the people that wanted to kill him for doing his damn job. And, of course, for Hunter. In that exact moment, it's even primarily at Hunter.

Not the Minister. Not Ardun Kothe. It's the bastard responsible for yanking him around by the nose and delighting it in. (RIP because this will ultimately mean Hunter fucked around and Tyr never found out because like absolute hell you're going to show him one more thing, like absolute hell he's going to let the person he holds responsible for destroying his life have a chance to get away, sorry Hunter) But I'm getting semi-off-topic into a related, but different point, lol.

TLDR, Tyr never completely disconnects from his identity as part of Imperial Intelligence. Lord Razer is perhaps one of the first and only Sith Lords Tyr knew full-well what the consequences of insubordination might look like and decided he had enough of being some Sith's puppet that he didn't care. With operations in borderline shambles by that point, he's not willing to stand by and let Watcher Three take shit. It was just the right moment of Tyr having had enough with the status quo and enough confidence that interceding was primarily going to be taken out on him. Not anyone else. And that was going to be okay because at least he would know he stood by his values in that exact moment.

And this is already so long aklnfldsf, let me throw a read more. Because boy, do I have SO many thoughts about this man.

I also think there's a part of him that has some regrets about his relationship with Shara. Later on, there's almost certainly regrets that he has - and it's never that they did have a relationship, but... a lot of what he couldn't do, didn't do, or even did. When she's promoted from Water Two to Keeper, he sort of backs off out of respect for their altered working relationship. By then, they all but certainly had feelings involved, but they never did label what went on between them in private, and that was okay.

It was also partially because of the sheer nature of the shit that was going on. Taking on an entire secret network manipulating the entire galaxy from the shadows sort of took precedent for both of them. At least in the beginning, they shared an unwavering dedication to their work - with the "at least" part being... part of his regrets, in the long run.

If there was possibly any blessing in disguise about losing Intelligence, it was that he didn't have to look her in the eyes and admit that he'd let Ardun Kothe get away - by choice. I think, even before he knew about her complete background, he always kind of knew that she might not agree - that betraying the Empire to report double agent to the Republic SIS was a hyperspace leap or three too far of a reaction. I don't think he had the mind to ask her to leave everything she'd ever known, especially because he wasn't certain about what it meant for him.

Of course, that sort of twisted blessing doesn't last forever, given Nathema, but... There's also something to be said - that he never does, and he probably never will - about him still having feelings for her even all those years later. He loved her, whether they ever state it explicitly or not, but he also never really gets an opportunity to resolve that or the perceived differences in their ultimate ideals because... Intelligence is gone. The last time he sees her before Nathema is that holocall on Rishi and that's doubly complicated because he's definitely got some growing feelings for Theron already. I don't think he ever reconciles that happening at the same time. One of the many problems he just sort of files away because there's nothing more to be done about it. Stars, does he hope she'll get out of intelligence if they can just get her away. At least one of them might have made it then, if she does... At least before Nathema, he could salve it all with the idea that it was better for her if he walked away. He never wanted her to be a part of this mess he'd found himself in. Too bad the universe didn't care what he wanted on that front, akdfnsadlfnsdf :, )

Between Jadus, the Castellan Restraints, his assignment on Corellia where she sent him to Hunter's forces... Tyr hasn't always explicitly said it, but he developed strong feelings about gambling the lives of operatives and civilians during operations. It's why him and Lana ultimately take a while to genuinely befriend one another - because he first encounters her as a superior and that sets the precedent for their interactions. Even before Sith Intelligence, Tyr's expectations of that dynamic are her outranking him as Sith. It's how things work and she's certainly not the worst he's had to deal with, at least. He won't mention Corellia by name to Lana when he picks a fight over what happens to Theron on Rishi, but it's what he thinks about. Shara - Keeper - sent him into that with explicit knowledge of what she was asking him to do, so he didn't stop to think about it twice. It didn't even occur to him to doubt because he agreed it was a solid plan. Yeah, Theron is SIS - they shouldn't be friends, but they are working together. That's why it did such a number on Tyr's trust with her. In a lot of ways, he felt the same sting of betrayal that had nearly gotten him killed in the eyes of the Dark Council in that decision.

And to cut this somewhere, gosh, uhh... I have to say the whole, like, stretch between the close of the base game and the beginning of KOTET is Tyr really just surviving and drifting. He doesn't have Intelligence, he entrusted the Black Codex to Ardun Kothe because neither of them could trust the Empire with that knowledge and Tyr considered it too large of a risk that he wouldn't have all the resources himself to finish the job, and that leaves him, as Kothe puts it, with a reputation and no real power in a society that thrives on power. It makes him something of a ghost, an anomaly, a loose end they never tied off and it makes him wildly uncertain of his place in it all. He knows he's too good to just leave alone and he knows his current position is largely more valuable than making a run for it. Even without Intelligence, he grips to the vestiges of his identity as Cipher Nine because... where the hell else is he supposed to go? In a twisted kind of way, the doom of Marr's fleet in Wild Space was another weird blessing - it would have at least been an end to the daze of a charade he'd been leading with a foot on either side of the lines.

Until it didn't, of course, because I gave him main character syndrome because I loved him too much. RIP Tyr, but not really ankdfnsadlfsdflsd.

When they said the IA storyline said you'd end up questioning the meaning and your place of it all, I was like 'haha, okay' and then it didn't hit me until after that... Yeah. Yeah, it did. Tyr's also just... really damn good at pretending it wasn't a problem. It was his problem. In a world where he was never meant to share those kafnldsafnldsf.

#i'm... so sorry kind of maybe idk i warned you i'd go off adkfnsdlfsf #swtor #swtor ocs #answered #imperial agent #ch: tyr #he's okay but also he's so sO not gooddddd #i love him and this is both the problem and cause of this isn't it alknflsdfnldsf

[kyberled]

ENDING DRABBLES

@skysnipsw​ asked:

Good end!

He stretches his arms high over his head, then yawns into the crook of his elbow. It’s warm here - but comfortably so. Not scorching, like it was on Tatooine, and not stifling, like the swamps of Nal Hutta. It was just nice. Just nice.

Peaceful.

That’s the word he was looking for. It’s peaceful. He never thought he’d ever get to say that. 

“Hey.” A familiar rumble from just overhead. Braig blinks up with a smile. 

“Good morning, Master Rhi.” He shuffles over to make space, even though nothing on the hill obstructs them. 

“Master Braig.” Hano chuckles, taking a seat. After a moment, he twitches his whiskers. “Feels weird saying it, huh?” Braig huffs good-naturedly and nudges his shoulder against Hano’s (though, predictably, the giant doesn’t budge). 

“It almost makes me feel old.” He says with a grimace. Hano glances at him.

“We are old.” He says. Braig huffs, then smiles. 

“I guess we are.” He leans comfortably against his friend’s side. It’s warm and solid. It’s safe. How long has it been since he could say that? Far too long. But they have that, now, and he’s grateful. “And I’m still older than you.” Hano laughs and claps him on the shoulder.

“Only by three months.” Hano nudges him. Braig scoffs.

“Three and a half.” He shoots back. Hano shakes his head with a grin. For a while, there’s a comfortable silence between the two of them. A happy silence. The breeze stirs lightly, rustling their hair and the grass around them. The sun spills warm and yellow over their shoulders. The Force is calm here. It’s nice. 

“We’re older than a lot of people now.” Hano says softly. Braig nods. 

“Suppose we are.” He says, letting his hand lightly skim over the grass. “Not as old as Master Yoda was, though.” Hano barks a laugh. 

“No, not quite there yet, huh?” 

“Not quite.” Braig echoed, flopping down into the grass. Hano laid down beside him. For a long while, neither of them spoke; they just enjoyed the silence that lounged between them. Then Hano shifted, glanced over at him again. 

“We have a lot to do now.” He said, and Braig huffed out a chuckle. 

“I never thought you, of all people, would complain about having a nap.” He barely had time to finish that sentence before the back of Hano’s hand came to rest over his face - no force behind it, no weight, just a playful sense of feigned irritation. Braig made a show of pushing him away and spitting out bits of fur. 

“You know what I mean.” Hano says, and Braig grins. 

“I know. And I agree - but I think we’ve also earned the right to lie down for a moment. At least until the younglings find–” 

“Masters!” One voice chirped out. At the same time, another addressed them instead as ‘old men’. Braig and Hano groaned in the well-practised unison only a lifetime together can produce. 

“Old?!” Hano shook his head in disbelief. 

“We’re not old!” Braig dusted himself off as he stood. 

“We’re experienced.” Hano said, then lightly nudged his arm against Braig. “Though you’re three months more experienced than I am.” 

“Three and a half.” Braig grins, then looks further ahead to where the little Jedi - initiates of the newly-reformed Order - are bouncing towards them. 

“Yes, yes, young ones - we’re coming!”

#skysnipsw #&& best foot forward; ic #&& far far away; drabbles #&& as best i can; answers #&& time is a flat circle; old fool #&& from creche to grave; the gathering group

[certified-anakinfucker]

🍕, 🍔, 🍻, 🍩, 🍋, 🍉 and 🍒 for any of your ocs, please?

I apologize for so many questions but I'm really curious!

HELLO LEIA HI HI HELLO HI ILY gonna use you as an excuse to go darrashposting on main

will be under the cut bc i know it's gonna get soooooo long

(i keep forgetting but, this is the ask!)

(and also i am so sorry this took so long, i started on this the day you sent it and then it got pushed in my drafts SJFHDSJHFSJD THANK YOU FOR ASKING THESE)

🍕: How does an OC spend a lazy day?

Darrash likes to sleep. It's something he never gets enough of, or when he does sleep it's very fitful and interrupted by night terrors.

The war doesn't present many lazy days to him regardless. Sleeping, sightseeing-for-a-purely-recreational-reason, sitting around and chatting with his team members or locals (for purely recreational reasons), trying out the food in the region if he's never been there, or just.. doing nothing.

🍔: Are there any recent trends you think your OC would hate? Or love?

Dear God he would be a t*kt*oker. But for very good reason. Exploiting algorithms and pushing to see what he can surface before people start questioning shit.

For a modern AU, he would post some pseudo-psychological shit, mostly as a means of spreading tips on mutual manipulation (yourself and others and possibly events at large), or he'll be the top account in thrifting or life-hacking. Anything to stretch one resource to the absolute maximum for as long as possible, he's your guy. He had to grow up crafty and resourceful so why not pass it along?

I also think he'd end up as some kind of doomsday meme, showing up at inaurguations and staring/glaring menacingly at the newly-elected leader from some back corner. Like "Where's Waldo?" type shit.

(more under the cut!)

🍻: What's your OC's favourite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

Ough, that's a hard question - mostly because he has quite a few.

The first that comes to mind is very simple: physical touch. Though he never had much of it, one of the few good things that came out of his tenure in the Imperial Academy is that he was seldom ever punched or otherwise hit; there wasn't much of anything to sour his perception of physical touch, so he still rather enjoys it. (Not counting the year or so on Nar Shaddaa he worked as an escort / dancer, but even then he was rarely touched.)

This one hasn't changed since he was a kid on Nal Hutta, surrounded by his friends: he very very very much loves to sing. He mostly sings to himself as a self-soothing habit, but if he's in good company then he doesn't mind openly sharing his voice.

9-13 ATC became a constant slew of rough days in the theater of warfare so he's picked up recreational target practice, ignoring one (1) of his colleagues while chatting with everyone else, and most important of all he learned how to piss off his handlers for fun. Mostly just Keeper (who becomes the Minister of Intelligence later. Watcher Two/Keeper isn't as fun to annoy because she's oblivious.)

🍩: What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for?

Well. Darrash is an extension of a fascist police surveillance state, top of the game in espionage + seduction + assassination + general disguise + infiltration, plainly acting as a force to be reckoned with and virtually untouchable. The (other) Grim Reaper himself. If you see a Cipher coming..... yeah you're already dead.

He's got so much blood on his hands and is responsible for bringing down damn near every planet he's been set up against, all without leaving so much a trace besides either the trail of destruction or deliberate footnotes. And a looooot of war crimes, definitely. Dude did what he had to do at all costs necessary.

Anyway - so Darrash also got his start as a kid skilled in the petty theft of supply crates and food out of markets, and general other thievery activities to grab supplies or otherwise quick credits. He knows very little about how to say "please" for anything he needs; he'd much rather just fuckin' take it.

He'd be arrested for theft, war crimes, insubordination, assassination, subverting entire terrorist cells, umm. You name it.

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

Losing his adoptive family. Gurr'os'olo, Ixan'ia, Aker'al, and three Evocii as well - it was the loss one by one that just. Broke him. These were the closest things he held to siblings. His older half brother Johkel had been kidnapped by Imperial Intelligence when he was very young and he didn't really know his younger sister Marrav, so that left the ragtag bunch he fell in with.

Gurr'os'olo had been kidnapped by pirates on Hutta, and that's the last that Darrash heard of him. Aker'al and his family were cornered by Sith - they killed his parents, burned his home, and disappeared with Aker'al. He never knew what happened to Ixan'ia.

Then he spent so long trying to pretend he was over them, just to end up finding Roso in the Republic militia on Taris, and finding Ixan'ia as an established smuggler, and Aker'al nearly killing him before forcefully taking him as an Apprentice for a couple of years. None of that felt great.

🍉: Does your OC have a particular piece of jewellery that they always wear or refuse to part with?

He did, for about a year. It was an Alderaanian headband that was given to him by the Revanite chapter on Dromund Kaas once he'd completed their trials and protected them from the Dark Council. His time spent in the cell was undoubtedly traumatizing beyond his will to compare, especially the fact that he was "reminded" of his own sensitivity to the Force that was pretty much drilled out of him by Intelligence. It's not that they took it away from him, but they trained him well enough to never rely on it that he did truly forget.

Ironically, he did choose to part with it on one condition: it was given to his would-be husband, Vector Hyllus, sometime before they were assigned to Taris together. When he presented Vector with a proper Intelligence-grade uniform with rank to match, he placed the headpiece on his head under the excuse of "it's Alderaanian, I thought you might like it" rather than the truth. Vector figured it out from Kaliyo, who was still angry that she had to sit through it with him.

🍒: Has Your OC had their first kiss yet? If so, with who?

This one I was on the fence about, but I will say yes.

He was kissed a few times when he served as an escort on Nar Shaddaa in a niche little club scene. He doesn't count those.

His official first kiss was with Vector on Voss, shortly before he was to marry Yana-Ton. It was unexpected on Darrash's part, but extremely welcomed. He almost fucked up the marriage vows because he was still reeling. Yana-Ton thought it was cute.

#oc tag | [darrash aron nealev] #cheeri plays swtor #i need a swtor tag #cheeri inquires

[blvvming-a]

@percentstardust​ asked: "Get off of me." ( Leia, @ Corona )

stuff in my inbox i need to answer

Who knew that the Princess of The Empire would be so stubborn? Well, given her father, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. She’d been plucked off Nal Hutta as a young slave after being sold to the empire by the Hutt family she and her mother served under. At the time, she’d been a scared child who missed her mother and now, as a full grown woman and Empire Moff, she didn’t regret a thing that’d happened. Her alternative was living a life of servitude, probably dying an early death in a pirate raid or traded to another Hutt family. Here she had status, power, authority and luxuries that only the most powerful army in the galaxy could grant her.

 But sometimes…sometimes these were the parts that got on her nerves. She respected Darth Lamia, as she did Vader, as she did the emperor. But sometimes she swore in the back of her mind that not a single member of the Skywalker family thought their decisions through. They were intelligent and powerful, afterall, there was a reason that the emperor practically had to have every member of their family on their side. Anakin was the chosen one spoken of in countless legends, the one destined to defeat the sith. There was no doubt that their family had earned their name across this galaxy but sometimes they had this habit of charging head first into things without thought.

 Admittedly, it probably wasn’t a wise decision for Corana to so suddenly grab Lamia’s arm before she could walk onto the ship they’d brought down. Her brow furrowed as Lamia swiftly demanded Corana to release her, but, she does loosen her grip on the woman. “Aren’t you force sensitives supposed to be more aware than the rest of us?” She pulls her blaster from her hip, shooting the device she’d spotted hidden carefully at the bottom of several crates. As soon as the hit connects, the boxes explode, leaking a sticky ooze that quickly began to melt through the surfaces it landed on. “Tripwire filled with acid spitter venom, fairly uncommon aboard vessels such as these.” Lamia could very easily sending her flying into the acid herself with a flick of her wrist and for that alone, maybe Corana should watch her mouth. 

 However, she really did have quite the nasty problem with authority.

#this verse is still very rough BUT #corona and lime's story is essentially the same except she's not force sensitive #and serves as a high ranking member of the empire #and is still her sassy disobedient self skgsnjgnsg #[ ✿ ] : answered asks ➜ #[ ✿ ] : the last sith ➜ darth corana #[ ✿ ] : v. ➜ star wars #percentstardust

[ollovae3]

I always have my eyes peeled for a Jango lives au. but what about a fives AND jango live au??

Little long, so under a read-more, and more focused on Fives and Boba, but I hope it's alright!! Shocked at how fast that writer's block broke? Not Grammer checked so, sorry for that. 😬👍🏻

"So... Who's your mom?"

CT-5555 couldn't deny that his voice was a little worried.

"Don't have one."

"Ah, sorry, condolences-"

"I'm a clone, like you, dumbass."

Fives blinked before hitting his head on the sewer pipe again and swearing in a hiss. "Care to explain how a cadet as pissed-off as you managed to get out of service?"

"Not a cadet, again, dumbass." Boba groaned, his optical nerves straining with how hard he was rolling his eyes.

"Well I could've sworn Prime and his brat went into hiding..." Fives grinned, holding in a bubble of laughter as the teen in front of him whipped around with the most sullen of teenaged glares. "Sorry, sorry. You were quite the golden kid, you gotta admit it."

"I'm not sure being dragged out to play bait really counts as 'golden'."

"Sure beats being a cog in the machine though." Fives shrugged at him, somehow, bent in half to fit in the small space they continued to slosh through.

"...I guess." Boba sounded guilty, and Fives sighed with it. He wasn't the most chipper of kids out there, but he also was a lonely kid, stuck with his father's clone in a desperate escape from The Nal Hutta prisons.

"Not meaning to be a shabuir, kid. Just jokin'."

"I know."

Boba kept looking forward, and Fives kept following the boy in the green-painted Beskar.

"How'd you get out here?"

Fives was startled by the question, Boba's first real inquiry for the trooper.

"Whatcha mean?"

"I mean: how'd you make it to Nal Hutta? There's no Imperial presence here for you to have gotten taken from." The boy looked back at him curiously, identical deep brown eyes staring a moment before looking back to the sludge ahead.

"Ah... That." The copy winced. "Let's just say the new Emperor didn't like what I had to say a while ago and gave me the boot... a little violently."

"You mean you got a bounty I can cash?"

Fives would be worried if not for the snarky grin tossed back at him. His own, almost.

The taller brother rolled his eyes this time. "No. Thank you very much. Luckily enough he thinks I'm dead, so no cashing me in twice."

"How'd you manage to do that?"

"This thing saved me," he pulled his cape and shirt some to show the metal plating over his heart, lights blinking blue and green under the fabric, with red flashing in time with his new heartbeat. "Took a while to get used to it, and used to being alone."

"Yeah, same with Buir." A snort, a quick stab of the vibroknife into the dark.

"How's that?"

Boba stood taller as they reached a conjunction in the pipe flows, giving more room overhead. He looked over at Fives, like he was peeling off his goatee and beard and the '5' tattoo he'd gotten his first time on shore-leave. It was like the kid was trying to shove it all aside to look at something else behind him, or maybe behind parts of himself.

Then the kid took the left pipe and started away again with the weak light of the gauntlet he had on.

"Come on, kid, you can't just leave me hangin' like that. How's your dad, Prime, the amazing Jango Fett, know anything about having a metal heart?"

Boba grumbled something, sighing like he regretted talking at all.

"Windu. That Jetii nearly killed him."

General Windu... He'd been leading at Geonosis that day, hadn't he?

"Through the heart?"

Boba looked back again, sadder-faced. "Neck. Just barely missed slicing buir's head right off. I had to hack a droid in a rush to get it to carry him to The Firespray in the right position."

"-nearly lost him too many times. Had to hook him up myself until we got one of his old friends to pick up a damn comm call. They got him fixed up, but he has to have cybernetics to hold his neck together, and his... His voice is gone..."

"Ah.. sorry to hear that one kid..."

"So am I." Boba checked his mapping again, and kept looking back to Fives.

Fives watched him, wondering what he could say to all that.

"This way is the way out." Boba answered for him, setting the topic down and charging forward for a deep green glow ahead.

Fives followed dutifully, hand near his holster, before finally settling out of the sewer system and into the green atmosphere outside. It stank still, but considerably less than the sewers had. He even took a deep breath of the semi-fresh air to calm his nerves.

When he opened his eyes, Boba was staring back, and in the ambient light of all the light pollution, he saw Boba again more clearly.

A little him stood there. A little copy with acne along his cheeks, a scar on his nose, and long hair like Tup's had been as a cadet. All bound together in a flight suit and Beskar armor.

And to Boba, a copy of his father stood over him. A copy of his future self, with a goatee and scruffy beard, with a tattoo and a grin and only a few pieces of gray and red ARC-trooper armor. His big blue poncho-cloak covered the rest.

It was silent for a moment, and both saw a wealth of their own losses before them.

Until, finally, the Marauder called in, slowly flying their way from over the hills to their right.

"Bad Batch here, saw you finally get signal again, vod!"

Fives awkwardly smiled at Boba who turned away and crossed his arms.

"Hear you, Echo. Got a tagalong who led me out of there, think we can get him a ride to the shipyard?

Boba looked over, seemingly startled that a trooper would want to help him get past the city and back home.

"That's doable, the kid near ya, huh?" The ship groaned as the landing gears held it up, and hissed at them when the door slid open.

"Time to go, numbskulls! We've got guards looking for you!"

Fives hopped in the shuttle, turning to hold a hand out to Boba.

"Come on kid." A smaller hand in his. "Let's get you back home."

#star wars #writing #drabble #ask prompt #story prompt #clone trooper fives #boba fett #star wars fanfic #star wars au #jango lives au #fives lives au

[a-master-procrastinator]

!!!

Didn't know you could talk to these guys in cutscenes (instead of them just saying a line when you click on them). This happens after winning the Great Hunt and before the ceremony. I escaped conversation with the Huntmaster just to run around, and apparently those guys have someone to say (nice stuff). Hearing that hunter who gave up on Dromund Kaas say that you inspired him and others gave me additional serotonin (I had some by simply replaying BH story bc I love it).

Anyway, I'll try to click on NPCs more often, bc they still have surprises.

Full lines under the cut (I didn’t take different options though).

[Q’kal: Looks like you made it, hunter. I’ll admit, I’m quite impressed.

Myk (Bounty Hunter): Have we met?

Q’Kal: Name’s Q’kal. I was one of the hunters in your group on Dromund Kaas, the one who dropped out. I regret that decision now.

Myk (BH): There’s always the next Great Hunt.

Q’kal: Yeah, next time I won’t leave.

Q’kal: You’ve been an inspiration to me. To quite a few hunters, actually.

Q’kal: It was an honor meeting you. A true honor.]

[Grataa: Congratulations, hunter. You’ve come a long way from your days on Hutta.

Myk (BH): Hey, the bone faced guy. Glad you made it.

Grataa: Yes, Grataa, the Great Hunt official. I’m pleased you remember me.

Grataa: I knew anyone Tarro Blood took an interest in was worth watching.

Grataa: You have earned this moment in the sun, hunter. The day is yours.]

#reminded me of that moment when i clicked on watcher two right before leaving dromund kaas in prologue #and it started a cutscene (without having bonus quest mark) #and it was also interesting #like maybe it's not hugely important but small conversations like these are nice #also look myk has a new outfit! #(which is actually supposed to be his first but it was expensive to unlock) #swtor #adventures of npcs in background #bounty hunter playthrough #oc:myk tispe #bounty hunter spoilers #maybe? main character winning isn't much of a spoiler

[officialgomezaddams]

Cabin House

if this dosen’t take im shooting myself $wag no TW except usual sadness. Slight simp anakin and breeding kink but iykyk

She sat outside on the porch in her rocking chair, watching the ship in front of her lower its self onto the meadow surrounding the cabin that she lived in with her husband. She smiled to herself, her hands rubbing her pregnant stomach in relief that he was home. It was a new feeling to both of them, homeliness. A family that is now back together. Or at the very least, the start of one. 

They had met when they were both young, Anakin was in Jedi training, and Y/n was a mechanic at the same temple. It was a decent gig, she reasoned with herself. The many hours and days spent watching and learning from her father in his shop had paid off. 

Born and raised in the capital of the galaxy, the high life never slowed down. There was always loud traffic, busy trade; the planet never slept. Anyone could go to a party or club; some festival was always happening. The temple was different, a little peace in the concrete jungle. As the war started, the need for maintenance shot up—the urgency to fix whatever droids or ships needed to be rewired or mending broken welds. Simultaneously, the Jedi and the politicians tried to restore the balance, maintenance fixing everything else. 

A job was a job, and getting herself out of her father’s small auto body garage was a priority for her. Pulling night shift sucked, but the lack of staff and management who wanted to do nights meant she could get away with a lot. 

It started when the shy padawan walked up to her, the shift partner in the area she worked with was sleeping in his chair, and even tho he was older than her and had more experience, Y/n didn’t wake him up. It was her first real interaction with someone who was force sensitive, and she was thanking the stars that this boy somehow made his way to her.

It wasn’t because he was lost. Anakin had been at the temple long enough to know it by hand and could probably draw blueprints of the entire layout. The way around maintenance wasn’t that hard, as he often borrowed material from them to fix small stuff he could handle. Anakin had caught glimpses of her, he would stare at her for the few seconds it took to pass each other while he was leaving the ship and for maintenance to check it for any repairs that needed to be done.

“What’s up, Starboy?” Y/n teased. Even though she had never met him formally, he was quite well known for his destiny. 

He shuffled his feet around, and all the confidence he once had was gone. He looked at her before looking down at the table she was in front of, watching her set down the wrench she was fiddling with. 

“I need an arm.” He shot out, not even knowing how to ask for such a thing. 

“An arm?” She had responded, wanting to make sure he had said the right thing. “Why do you need an arm-” She asked but quickly stopped as he dropped his robe, and she realized he was missing the very thing he had asked for. “Oh. You need an arm.”

It took about six months for the arm to be built. It took a lot of measurements, calculating, and many, many nights for it to be made giving Anakin time to grow his confidence back up and flirt relentlessly with her. Telling her that it didn’t bother him that he would almost get little to no sleep because ‘being with you is a dream I never want to wake up from.’ On the nights he didn’t see her he would tell her, ‘Even though I couldn’t be with you, I still see you in my dreams. The best dreams I will ever have will always be the ones where you are in it. My dreams with you are so sweet to the violent reality of being a Jedi.’ 

The last night the two spent together working on his arm, or to be honest it was just her while Anakin would pour his heart out to her, hoping for something, a kiss, or even the simple statement that she returned his feelings. 

“If I have any problems with my arm, I’m coming to you. For my arm and my heart, you are the only one who knows how to fix them. Help me Y/n, my heart hurts, it burns for you. Every time I leave you or think about how you aren’t mine it aches. It’s so painful. Fix it, please. Tell me you don’t feel the same way, that your heart beats differently to the tune of mine.” He told her, watching her with doe eyes as she concentrated on wiring the last few things together. 

“Isn’t that against your rules?” 

“Attachment is forbidden, possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi’s life. So you might say I am encouraged to feel this way about you.” He stated, awkwardly biting his lip which made her giggle. 

“In three days, I have time off, maybe then you can teach me about this new teaching, and I can teach you something about how to use the arm.”

Neither of them expected it to be like this. Married and expecting. The moment she had told Anakin the news, he had immediately begun thinking of moving. Getting away from the city life and going somewhere more quiet and peaceful. Somewhere the war could not disturb them, so they landed in Alderaan. The whole planet was pulled right from a painting, and the moment they settled on the cozy cabin, they both realized that after years of running around, they finally found their home. With each other, in their soon-to-be family, and in Alderaan. 

As the ship lowered its self to the ground, the woman awkwardly got out of the chair and stood up, holding onto the wooden frame of the porch. Anakin swiftly got out, smiling from ear to ear as he saw her waiting for him. His feet moved on their own as he ran to her, watching her take careful steps to meet him. Before she knew it, his arms were around her, pulling her into him. “Don’t strain yourself for me.” He whispered, kissing her head. 

She was thirty-three weeks into her pregnancy with twins. The two babies growing safely in her womb had made things more difficult for her in terms of moving around, and she had long forgotten her shoes. 

They didn’t move in right away. They waited until work became difficult for Y/n, getting down to work on something wasn’t easy anymore, and she couldn’t be on her feet for more than an hour and a half until her feet started hurting. On the other hand, Anakin wanted to move in as soon as they got it. ‘You shouldn’t have to work, you’re pregnant with our babies, and I want you to enjoy this.’ He also knew how chatty the maintenance section was and was not looking forward to any rumors that could be spread about his wife. ‘Tell them they are mine. I’m not going to let them disrespect my children by disrespecting you. Tell them that I got you pregnant, that you took me in, and this is what my seed is doing to you.’

“How are you, my angel?” He asked, watching as the moonlight hit her face. He had been gone for most of the pregnancy, being forced to leave after her first doctor’s appointment that confirmed that Y/n was with child. Only then, she was nine weeks far too early to be showing anything. He came back to her a few weeks later, and the first thing he did when he greeted her was to kiss her fourteen-week stomach, but he didn’t stay long. The three days they were together were spent moving quickly into the new house. Only the important things she needed were to stay back at the temple so she could continue with work. They didn’t have much, but Anakin insisted on carrying everything, telling her that she was not even to lift her jewelry box because he didn’t want anything to happen to the babies. 

“Bored. I’ve been itching to get back to work; there’s only so much you can crochet before you want to stab yourself with the needles.” She joked, making them both laugh. 

“And the babies?” He asked, his hands dropping to rub the sides of her stomach. It brought him pride to see her like this. Seeing her carrying his child, seeing her full belly, smiling at the thought of the stretch marks that clung to her round belly, knowing that her body was adjusting well. The few times he was able to see Y/n through the hologram, he always admired his wife’s new changing body.

“Restless. I’m hoping now that you’re home, they’ll calm down for a little bit.” Anakin pulled her into a soft kiss. The whole time he had been away, she and the babies were always on his mind. He would wonder if they were kicking or thinking about what to name them. He would think about Y/n, if she was sleeping and if she was pushing herself too hard. He felt terrible for not being there to hold her hair back through morning sickness or walk her around to make sure she got the proper exercise she needed. He felt so useless. 

“How long do I have you back for?” She asked. It was an impossible question because no matter what time frame they had, it wouldn’t be enough. She just wanted him to be here with her, safe. The only good part about being away from the temple was she got away from all the rumors about her husband being dead or being held somewhere and tortured. She wanted him here in their home, enjoying the moments and milestones that she was going through alone. She had convinced herself that if - stars forbid it- something happened to Anakin, she could do it by herself. She could raise the kids and do what she could to make ends meet. It’d be challenging, and she understood that. But in her opinion, what could be harder than going through this pregnancy alone? Forcing herself to get the rooms ready, forcing her co-workers at the temple to help her in the later stages because she couldn’t depend on Anakin. 

He quietly led her to the house, purposefully ignoring the question because he knew that it wouldn’t be the one she wanted to hear. Only when she asked again as they reached the front door, he answered. “A week. Then I have to go back, and I don’t know where the council is sending me. Probably to Hutta.”

“You’re gonna be here for the births, right?” She pressed, stepping into the warm cabin and away from the cool breeze of the night along with his arms. 

“Y/n, I promise that once our children are born, I will be there for everything,” He reassured her. He knew it was a promise that he couldn’t keep. That the Jedi council would most likely tear him away from his family sooner or later. With war, or keeping the force away from the Darkside, he knew that it would be something. “Don’t look at me like that, Angel. You know how hard this is for me. You knew what you were getting yourself into.” He took a step towards her, but she shook her head and stepped back, turning around and began waddling herself towards the shared bedroom. 

“But I didn’t expect it to be left by myself throughout this.” His wife began, with Anakin following her quickly. “All alone and pregnant just to have you, my husband, show up for a few hours or a few days if I am lucky. Then to have him leave me alone again.”

“Am I not here, in our home when I can be?” 

“Our home?” She raised her voice, “It feels as if you are no more than a guest.” Finally turning around to look at him before walking over to the bed and sitting down facing away from him, looking out the window that gave a view of the spacecraft out front. “Anakin, I want to go back to the Coruscant.”

“Going back wouldn’t change a thing.” His words were forced, trying to stay calm and not lose his temper. He was a good husband, or at least he tried to be. It wasn’t easy - for anyone. But he tried, skipping meetings and purposefully doing stuff to get close to you, reporting ships and droids as broken so he could sit with you as you worked on them. Even now, with the war, just being on the opposite side of the same planet was enough for him. “You know that I can’t control what happens out there. I don’t get to pick and choose when I get to stay home!” His anger was cut off by the sound of her whimper. 

“Y/n, Starlight,” He was cautious with his words now, “Y/n?” She would not face him as he sat down next to her on the corner of the bed, his head down in shame. “Please tell me you don’t regret this.” Any of this, he thought to himself, knowing it was always her who got the short end of the lifestyle they had to hide. 

“Anakin, our love is like the Coruscant. It’s messy at first glance, and it’s hard to understand why it hasn’t just fallen apart in chaos. It doesn’t make any sense. But if you squint hard enough and really focus in,” She began slowly, trying not to fall apart. “You can see how nice and beautiful and all of the great things you can get out of it.” Her lip quivered, and her voice broke, letting the painful tears she was holding in anymore. “But I’m so tired of squinting.”

Neither of them looked at each other. While Y/n cried into her hands, Anakin just sat there, trying to figure out what to do. “I-” The reality that this could be it, this is all about to end, made him re-think his words. Did he miss something? Was he too happy that he was starting a family with the girl he fell in love with at nineteen to realize that she was now, what? Fallen out of love for him while she was right about to give birth? For once, Anakin was speechless. He could still fix this, right? I have to fix this. She’s fucking pregnant with my children. Our children. 

“What do you want then? I’m here, now, Angel. I -I don’t know what you want.” His voice was pitiful, but she was strong. She had to if she was going to do this alone.

“I want you to get in your ship and leave.” 

As soon as she said it, he was protesting, ”Go where? Baby, please, don’t make me go back.” He was the one crying now, tears falling mercilessly down his face, realizing that this was it.

“I don’t care where you go, Anakin. Just- you can’t stay here. You make me too sad.” 

#anakin skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #Anakin Skywalker #anakin imagines #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #star wars #anakin

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 8

Maul x Sith!reader 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Yall it has been a God damn week I'll tell you that. So sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. Fair warning, had to do some already known stuffs to move the story along the timeline and I just wasn't feeling it while writing, but it's important to the timeliness nonetheless.

WARNINGS: 18+ P in V sex, unprotected sex, Canon violence. Kinda angsty at the end? Idk.

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       The following morning you awoke alone in your tent. The cool morning air aiding to shake the fog from your mind as you thought of the previous night. A smile twitched on your lips that was soon replaced with a heavy eye roll. One of your pant legs had been torn up the seam by the medic who worked on you. Shrugging, you ripped off the tattered fabric and did the same to the other to match. Sliding on your now short one piece you pulled on your boots, hung your sabers from your hips and left your little shelter.

    You knew why Maul left; he didn't want anyone to think the two of you were involved until the situation was less vulnerable. You were thankful he waited until you were asleep before he absconded into the darkness. Maker, you had to stop thinking about it lest you rile yourself up again. It was time to go to work, continue to prove to your master that you deserved to be at his side. That he needed you there.

    You were relieved that Savage followed behind you a few minutes later. At least you weren't the last one up. Pre and Maul strode through the camp with you and Savage following closely behind.

"We will need an army if we are to successfully take back Mandalore." Your master rumbled.

"The people will support us once we remind them who they are." Pre retorted.

"Perhaps... but the Black Suns will be able to provide us with resources beneath the attention of the Republic."

"They're a crime syndicate!"

"Yes, and a powerful one that will lead to our victory. We have but one chance to pull this off."

      Boarding a Mandalorian starship with your Master and Savage was quiet. You had decided to keep your mouth shut and revel in Maul's ability to command and scheme. You stood at Savage's side with your hands clasped behind your back, back straight and chin high. Your weapons dangled dangerously at your hips. Every so often a Mandalorian would look at you curiously through their visor to which you responded the same every time. You gazed into their black where their unseen eyes lay behind, unblinking with a straight lip and an air of importance until they turned away. Savage quirked a lip slightly every time.

When you were alone he rumbled quietly.

"You make them uneasy. Much more than I do I think."

"I hardly doubt that my friend." Your voice soft and cold in the off chance someone could hear you.

"Possibly... they fear us."

"Good. Then they will stay in line under Lord Maul. A warrior should never show fear. They may be strong but they've shown a vital weakness we will exploit in time if necessary."

    Maul was the only one within ear shot and he silently listened to your words. Although he didn't show it at the time externally, his chest swelled in pride.

    After landing on Mustafar they were greeted with a battalion led by a tall Falleen male by the name of Vigo Ziton Maj. He chuckled when your master harshly requested an audience but he led Maul, Savage, Pre Vizsla and yourself inside the fortress anyway.

    Five more men sat at a long black table upon your entrance. When demanded that they join you, you were met with exclamations of amusement and they attempted to call for your deaths.

    Without hesitation you and Savage each tossed a spinning lightsaber in their direction. Effectively beheading each and every one of the leaders in single mirrored motions. After seeing first handedly that denial of an alliance would lead to death, Moj, the next in line to lead agreed to join your cause without hesitation.

    The Pykes practically handed themselves over to you once news about the Black Suns had reached their ears. The offer of their alliance was a grateful surprise to you. Recognizing the slow shift in universal power only spurred your attraction to your master. Visions of you riding his throbbing cock permeated your mind and drifted to his.

    On the ride to Nal Hutta these thoughts only grew in intensity as your sinful need grew. It had been days since he had last touched you and although you maintained an outward composure, your mind reeled. With only a few hours until your arrival, Maul strode past you, pausing momentarily to give you a knowing glance and ever so slight nod of his head. You waited a minute before following his force signature until a supply closet door hissed open. He grabbed you almost violently, pulling you within the small enclosure. He listened to be sure you weren't followed before he turned to you.

"My my what devious thoughts you project little one." He cooed as he pulled you into his embrace. With your back to his chest, he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, planting gentle wet kisses to your sensitive skin and lightly nipping at your ear. You took his hand and covered your mouth to stifle a whimper as he ground his hardening cock into your rear. You could feel the heat of your core as his velvety voice hummed in the ear he was toying with.

"Now, I'd much rather take my time with you but it seems you need some tension released. I'll need you clear headed on this venture. I believe the Hutt Clan will give us the most trouble in forming an alliance. Would you like my help my sweet little apprentice?"

    You nodded fervently, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he slid your one piece down until it pooled on the floor. He bent you over infinitesimally, just enough to grant him entrance. He prodded his hot, firm erection against your folds letting out a silent groan feeling how wet you already were.

"God's I've hardly touched you and your soaking wet you naughty little girl."

    Without warning he slipping inside you, biting one of his fingers to keep from crying out. He thrusted into at a brutal pace, sinking to his hilt with every rut. It didn't take long before you were fluttering around him and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Maker, you're going to cum for me.. I can feel it... Let go my dear. Cum all over my cock."

    The command he soothed had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. The excitement of the risk at being found out only encouraged your orgasm. Still shaking from the aftershocks, your master bit your shoulder as he throbbed and filled you.

    You hastily cleaned yourself, getting ready to leave before you were caught but Maul grabbed your wrist and brought you back into an embrace. Gently pressing his forehead to yours and wrapping his arms around you.

"Soon you'll be at my side at all times my dear. Would you like that?" His glowing amber eyes meeting yours.

"Yes Master, of course."

    You pressed your lips to his and trying to calm your flush you left the small enclosure with newfound resolve undoubtedly spurred by your bliss.

       Maul had been correct as usual. The Hutts were in fact quite resistant. After hearing that they wouldn't be paid and that the deal was an alliance for their lives, five bounty hunters and the whole guard rushed the room. Desperate for some leverage you deflected the barrage of incoming blaster fire along with your master while leading them slowly out to the landing platform.

Finally, she's good for something you thought as Bo Katan fired rockets into the fortress, effectively killing most of the guard.

    You gave chase back into the fortress and fought the remaining bounty hunters. Unwillingly admitting that they were giving you more trouble than you would've hoped. Darting away from a purple woman with orange hair you kicked a dog off of your master while the bounty hunters made their retreat. Maul was convinced that they wouldn't be a further threat so you let them escape with their lives and empty pockets.

    You ended up having to travel to the gods awful desert planet of Tatooine for Jabba to finally agree to your terms.

       Back on Zanbar you and Savage shared a meal while Maul oversaw the organization of the troops and mixed crime syndicates.

"You seem restless." Savage noted.

"Duuuh." You exasperated. "All this planning and waiting and organizing. Ugh, I wanna go fuck shit up. We've been so busy with the boring shit I haven't even had time to train. Aside from that bounty hunter scuffle."

"Worry not little one, you'll be terrorizing the Mandalorians planet side with everyone soon enough." You scoffed at his response to which he cocked his brow.

"No, I'm not. Master wants me in the shadows. Something about the people recognizing me later on being a problem with his grand scheme."

"He has a habit of only telling half of a truth. Trust comes slowly to him. You know this." You sighed, pushing away your plate and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yes, I'm well aware. More so than he would like I'm sure."

"He cares very deeply for you."

"And I him but all this sitting around will get me nowhere. I told you about what happened on Malachor... for the first time since I've joined you two it feels like my feet are taking me some where I'm not supposed to go... it's been weeks and the only thing I've learned in that time frame is how to take his cock in secret, away from prying eyes."

    Savage nearly choked and also disregarded his food and sat looking at you with a pained look in his eyes.

"What will you do then?"

"Honestly? I haven't the faintest idea. All I know is that I'm supposed to 'extinguish the fear but always remember that 'the shadow cannot exist without the light' whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean."

"If you don't know what it means how do you know you're on the wrong path?" You paused at his question.

"Jedi and Sith both always say to trust in the force... I need to meditate on this."

    Savage nodded as you stood from your seat walking back towards your tent. Your master was a strong force user and ever since that night you two had opened up your minds to one another, truly lay bare before the other, it was damn near impossible to keep him out. When you passed him and Vizsla you had known they couldn't hear your conversation but the way that his eyes followed you. A specific crease in his brow. You had no doubt it had anything to do with Vizsla's ramblings, you realized he probably felt your conflict.

    Disappearing into your canvas enclosure you tried to push the thought of your lover, no, your master; down and away from the forefront of your mind. Gods above though, he was your lover. You loved him, so much. What if he was guiding you away from the place you needed to go? Everything felt right before you allied with the Death Watch. The weeks you spent training and traveling to Malachor felt right. But this, this felt like it was his path not yours. If your destinies didn’t cross would he abandon his to join you? Could you abandon yours to join him? You knelt in the center of your tent and straightened your back, closing your eyes. Allowing your mind to rest, allow the wild eradications to still and drift away. This was important. This was your destiny. You suddenly realized why, although you'd never admit it, the Jedi forbid attachments in their freakish cult.

#maul x reader #maul smut #darth maul #sith apprentice #savage opress #platonic savage #maul fluff #sith warrior #starwars au #star wars au #star wars #swtcw x reader #swtcw smut

[hopedyad]

semi-plotted Empress Rey starter for @solo-dyad

The apprentice had become the master. All it had taken was letting him get close, letting him be lulled into a false sense of security. It had been well planned, slowly turning his own people against him. Snoke had no idea what was happening until it was much too late. The little girl that he’d taken from the deserts of Jakku had turned into a dragon who would gladly burn him to a crisp. The act of killing him was simple. Her double bladed saber lit up in an instant and she raised it up, watching as he fell over, sliced in half through his head. She’d stood over him before looking over at the camera, her golden eyes bright with what many thought of as bloodlust, but it was joy. For a second her natural hazel flicked into view, but it was good to fast. Only a force user would have been even able to see the color change.

She had proclaimed herself Empress Rey, killer of Snoke and Ruler of the Galaxy. She’d used her heeled boot to shove Snoke off of his seat and sat down on it, the dress she’d been wearing showing more than a little skin. Her saber had turned off as she’d crossed her legs and sat back, dark nails carefully curling over the edges of the idiotic throne. The last image the galaxy had seen of their new empress had her smiling at them, rather fondly.

That was almost a year ago and the galaxy had felt the shift. No longer was the First Order just a force to be terrified of. It was just one arm of the young Empress’ empire. She’d taken to wooing politicians as much as making them do what she wanted by force. It grew increasingly difficult for the Resistance to fight against the beautiful and terrifying Empress. Around her were loyal guards, dressed in black. She had named them the Knights of Ren, but no one was sure who they were. Those who could feel them, however, knew they were force sensative like her.

That wasn’t the only change. Slavery had been outlawed in all of the galaxy. Even the parts she had no control of. In the last few months her ‘wild cur’, Grand Marshal Hux had been spending much of his time in the Hutta systems, wiping out entire Hutt families. Trade had been opened, between all parts of the galaxy, though that too was being ironed out. There were those who argued, however, against an Empress, remembering her predecesor in the title. They were swiftly and brutally dealt with, the Empress herself arriving on scene to handle the situation. She had gained the love of her Stormtroopers as well, changing everything about the system, refusing to take children from their families, but making it clear that if her army’s numbers didn’t grow she would start conscripting.

The sith woman seemed deeply involved in every part of her Empire. From her new deplomacy department to her Military, she seemed to always be around. Some even considered the strange woman to be a good thing for the galaxy. But it wasn’t to be said that the Empress was kind. You got one chance, and then you met her blade, or one of her Knight’s. And sometimes you didn’t even realize you’d wasted that chance until you were dead. There were exceptions, if you were particularly useful, but after the creation of the Dreadful Star, her dreadnaught flagship that had become the center of her Empire, it was said her crew changed weekly. Though that wasn’t quite true.

When the Star had lept into the system, she had been allurted of a strange ship in system, outside the norm. She’d walked over to the war table and flicked the ship up to where she could see it. Childhood memories of listening to people describe the ship flitted through her mind. “Bring it to me.” She ordered softly. As soon as they’d entered the system something had pulled at her and now she could almost feel whatever it was in her finger tips.

“Inform me once it is in the hangar.” She added as she turned towards a strange black and multi-colored droid. It was a very old R2 unit, though it didn’t look quite like like the typical one, having it’s body be mostly black, but it had many different colored panels, as if it had been put together from different droids. “Fives, we will be making some new friends today.” She smiled darkly at the droid who shook herself back and forth and tweeted excitedly. Beside her one of her knights snorted. She eyed him a moment, darkly and he stepped away.

She wasn’t giving the fight to get the Millenium Falcon under control much attention. If she was needed they would tell her. And she wasn’t. She was informed of the ship’s capture by tractor beam and she smiled, bright and dazzling, making her seem less like a sith and more like the twenty-year old girl she was. “Good!” She clapped her hands as she started off, her guards and the droid falling in behind her. Her heels clicked louder than their heavy footsteps but she barely noticed. On each hip was one half of her lightsaber, she had opted for symetry today. Her grecian dress flowed beautifully around her as she entered the hangar, the draw of something pulling at her. She would find out what the hell it was now. Her gaze dragged across the hangar and settled on the junk heap called a ship. She knew the stories about it, however, and smiled. She wondered what she would do with it. If she would do anything with it. Maybe she’d let it go... it was a shame to keep a smuggler’s ship all locked up, not able to do what it was made to do.

She saw her tall commander of Stormtroopers, Phasma, standing beside what she assumed were the inhabitants of the ship. She moved swiftly, ignoring the strange feeling in her stomach and chest. She wasn’t looking at the captors, but at Phasma, who turned towards her and gave her a low bow. “Your Grace, the Millenium Falcon and her... inhabitants.” Rey finally looked over at them, yellow eyed gaze curious.

Her Looks: Dress | Boots | Necklace (with this stone) | Earrings (with this stone) | Ring | Nails | Lips | Eye Shadow/Liner | Gloves | Hair | Crown

#solo-dyad #solo-dyad - empress | hearts and minds #As a note #this is not Rey Palpatine... still Rey Nobody #But Rey's intrisically more terrifying than Ben as a sith sooooo #Also I can't get the Star Wars Galaxy Map to work for me (not sure what the fuck is blocking it...) #so I don't know what system she's jumped into #<3 #long post tw

[corrupt-fvcker]

Annoying (Boba Fett x fem!Reader)

Annoying ( Boba Fett x fem!Reader )

Warnings: fluff, hurt with sorta comfort, mentions of blood, one (1) mention of an erection, naughty words

Word Count: 3.1K

Author’s Note: boba may be a grumpy boyfriend, but he’s pretty decent. reminder that requests are open and if you want to be added to my tag list the link is in my bio :)

Boba’s annoying.

Like, really annoying. 

He’s always telling you what to do and when to do it, like he’s the boss of you or something. 

Well, technically he did hire you as an onboard mechanic for the Slave I.

But that’s hardly the point.

Because after you reluctantly complete whatever (typically ridiculous) request he’s ordered you to do, he doesn’t show you ever a sliver of gratitude. 

He’s constantly teasing you

Probably smirking smugly beneath his bucket whenever you avoid his gaze after a particularly cheeky comment.

You swear that he's going to be the death of you if he doesn't shut the fuck up.

And he's an idiot, you're confident in this even though he always seems to be two steps ahead of you.

"If I'm an idiot, then what does that make you?"

The bitch that's about to roundhouse your ass.

"...shut up."

Boba's also big and green

Like a giant booger you decided.

Because calling him a Hutt would've been a direct insult to Jabba and all who hailed from Nal Hutta.

He's also stubborn.

Which you suppose is a good thing when it comes to his line of work. 

But after the quarry's been captured and it's just you and him, you're usually about two minutes away from stranding him on the nearest inhabitable planet.

Boba — the annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot that somehow managed to get his grimy gloved fingers wrapped around your heart with a durasteel strength grip.

And despite his imperfections, you know he cares. He cares a whole lot, actually.

Which is why you're approaching the hour mark of being stranded in the middle of a giant forest. 

The stars of the Corellia system moved across the night sky as you wait for your annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot of a boyfriend to find you.

It had started off as a joke. 

Not a particularly good joke, but your goal wasn't to make him laugh.

Your goal was to get under his skin.

So you, being the natural-born genius that you are, decide to laugh when Boba oh-so-casually brings up that he is the best bounty hunter in the field.

 And you should've dropped it when his helmet ticked to the side and he asked you what was so kriffing funny.

But you — the apparent brains of the operation — don't catch the hint and keep going.

"I mean, I think I could outrun you," you admit nonchalantly, not bothering to look up at him as you absentmindedly pick at a loose thread of your tunic. "Not to mention outsmart you."

You smirk because if Boba is anything but your annoying, stubborn, big, green, idiot boyfriend... he's egotistical.

Boba scoffs, a mixture of amusement and offense lacing his tone. "Yeah? That's what you think?"

You offer him a half-hearted nod, feigning indifference to the whole idea.

He doesn't say anything else after that, nor do either of you bring it up again.

You suspect that maybe he figured that you were just trying to get under his skin, but you didn't think that you could've bruised his ego so easily and truly gotten away with it.

But then all hell breaks loose and the joke that you had started morphed into a much more genuine issue.

An official bounty had been placed on your head, and the reward was quite charitable.

So now, you were hiding out in the middle of some random forest on Corellia as Boba hunts you down to put your survival skills to test. 

Your goal is simple, make it back to the Slave I before Boba hunts you down and catches you.

And you had originally thought that it had been a good idea. If Boba, the best bounty hunter there is, can't catch you then hypothetically you shouldn't have to worry about other bounty hunters coming after you.

But you quickly came to regret your decision because now you're lost out in the middle of the forest, hugging some random tree.

You tried not to wander too far from the ship, knowing that you’d have to eventually find your way back. 

But you also couldn’t stay too close, it’d be much easier for Boba to find you if you were in the first tree he sees.

You had no definitive way of knowing how much time had passed. 

Even though Boba had told you when you landed, you had already forgotten how long a Corellian day was. 

Logically, you knew that you couldn't have been waiting for more than an hour. 

Though when your natural restlessness mixed with how uncomfortable your hiding spot was, you were convinced that you had been stuck in place for at least several hours.

You had settled yourself up in the branches of a towering tree. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, the bark digging into the soft flesh of your back, but it was endurable. 

If you could hide, you could live.

It’s dark, You could barely see the forest floor from your hiding spot. 

You weren't far from the ground, maybe a good twenty feet up.

Though you doubted that you’d be able to see Boba if he strolled past your tree.

He had the advantage, of course. Night vision ‘n all his fancy gadgets.

To make matters worse, it’s freezing.

 You were itching to get the hell out of the forest and cuddle up on your cot. 

But there was a tiny problem. 

Boba was coming from the direction of the Slave I. 

Which meant that with your luck, there was a very good chance that you’d run directly into him as you’re trying to get back to the ship. 

You needed to get Boba off your trail first, get him lost in the jungle. 

By the second hour of hiding in the ominous forest, you hear rustling leaves in the distance.

He’s close.

Thankfully, he’s not moving directly towards you.

But you can hear him drawing closer and closer, and you’re about to make a run for it and hope for the best. 

And even though you know he’s not going to to hurt you, you’re still terrified. 

You hear a twig snap just a few yards from your tree, you flinch. 

And then he went silent. 

And for a split second, your mind lets you think that he missed you. 

But then, just a short distance away, you see it.

The subtle glow of a tracking fob.

He was waiting for something -- standing there, eyes searching for your figure in the darkness.

And then, he turns away, hesitating. Considering his options.

He moves a few paces east, thankfully away from your route back to the ship.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps, and begin to move. Quietly, making sure your movements did not betray you.

But that was your first mistake. 

Not noticing that it was a trap. 

You didn’t realize it until it was too late. 

He’s racing after you now, heavy footsteps thudding against the forest floor. 

And for someone weighed down by so much armor, he’s fast.

You’re sprinting.

Entire body burning as you make your way through the thick trees.

The world’s a blur as you run, your feet barely touching the ground as you speed through the forest.

He’s on your trail, hot and quick. 

You just prayed that you had a good enough lead, maybe you could outrun him. 

And just as the Slave I is in view you realize something. 

You realize that you’re wrong. 

Two strong arms plated with thick duraplast hook around your waist and yank you off your feet. 

Air is ripped from your lungs as soon as the slope of your back slams against the armor covering the firm muscles of his chest. 

And desperately, you suck sharply for the oxygen that was just knocked from your body but as soon as you manage to breath in, you are robbed once again as the two of you topple to the ground.

You hit the ground hard. 

Your head snapping back as soon as your bodies hit the dirt and the only thing keeping your skull from splitting open against the forest floor is the way Boba tugs you against his chest. 

“Fuck!” You grit through your teeth, not sure if it’s the pain of the fall or the disappointment of losing that’s bruised you more. 

You don’t stop struggling, continuing to fight him as he wrestles you to the ground. 

You’re panting, kicking, grunting, punching, swearing—

Boba... hasn’t broken a sweat. 

He’s leaning over your and has got one of your arms craned behind your back, your face pushing into the dirt as you actively chose to ignore what seems to be a hard-on pressed into your lower back. Instead of dealing with his problem, you use what little strength you have left to swing your limbs at him. 

THWACK!

You’re free hand collides with the dome of his helmet, and it nearly throws him off his game. You smirk— then you seethe in pain. 

The skin of your knuckles cracks open upon impact of the duraplast, successfully hurting you more than it managed to inconvenience Boba.

“You kriffing—”

Your words catch in your throat as he suddenly flips you over, forcing you to face his stupid helmet. 

He plops down on you, effectively pushing all the air from your lungs for the third time of the night. 

He’s sitting on your stomach, gloved hands grasping your wrists as his legs pin down your own. 

“Gonna need to put up more than a fight than that,” Boba growls through his modulator, easily restraining your struggling limbs. 

"Fuck you.”

You might actually hate him. 

No, you don’t. 

“C’mon,” he croons mockingly, leaning forward just a bit so that his helmet hovers over your face. “Thought you said you could outrun me. Outsmart me? You got to have more fire in you than that, baby.”

Then you do something incredibly stupid. 

Because — who are you kidding? — you’re not the brains of the operation.

You’re the stubborn one between the two of you (which is saying something), and Boba always knows which buttons to push. 

You jerk upward, momentarily slipping your wrists away from his grip that loosened from surprise.

Your head slams into the front of his helmet, your forehead splitting open on collision. 

But your pride outweighs your pain as you watch your boyfriend’s head snap back slightly with a strained grunt, effectively freeing your arms from his grasp. 

With all the force you can muster, you shove him off of you before he can quickly recover and then you’re running. 

Sprinting to the ship even faster than before, despite the heavy blood flow that is now running its course down the side of your face.

As soon as the soles of your boots make contact with the durasteel ramp, you collapse. 

Toppling down to your knees in the safe zone because you’re so kriffing tired yet so relieved that you won. 

The sound of Boba’s footsteps are right by your head as you carelessly sprawl out on the ramp.

“Fuck,” Boba snarls, suddenly invading your little safe zone. 

 You smirk because you know he’s pissed about losing to you. 

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Boba snaps, his gloved hands seizing each side of your face to make you look at his visor. 

You’re bleeding. 

Like a lot. 

And you almost don’t have enough energy in you to brag. 

“I won, old man,” you sigh dreamily, batting eyelashes as you blink away the dots spotting your vision. 

Boba doesn’t even comment on the fact that you’re only a few years younger than him. 

“Maker help me, you better not have a concussion,” Boba grumbles with an unamused grimace that’s concealed by his bucket, hauling you up from the ramp despite your protests and carrying you into the hull.

He’s completely silent as he cleans your trophy -- a small cut just below your brow that bled way too fucking much for its size. He sprays some bacta on it and covers it with a bandage, only speaking once all the supplies is put away. 

“You need to take this,” Boba argues, his blood-stained gloves now discarded as he holds a few painkillers in his palm. 

You shake your head. “It’s not serious. You’re gonna need those sooner or later.”

“You have a head laceration, it’s not gonna be long before you get a migraine,” Boba retorts, forcing your clenched fist open so that he can put the pills in your palm.

“No.”

Fuck, you’re stubborn. 

His heavy sigh echos through his vocoder. “I don’t want to hear about how bad your head hurts in an hour.”

“You won’t,” you promise. 

Though what’s he gonna do about it if you do? Lose another bet?

It doesn’t even take an hour for your head to start pounding in retaliation of your stupidity. Though you bite your tongue as you sit in the co-pilot’s seat, not wanting to get the “I Told You So” speech yet again.

You’ve been in hyperspace for about twenty minute, sitting with your legs criss-cross in the seat, your eyes closed and your head tilted back. 

You hope you just fall asleep unintentionally so that you don’t have to get up again. 

Every time you stand you think that your skull is going to burst from the incessant thrumming of your brain. 

Thankfully it’s mainly dark in the cockpit, the only light coming from the buttons and stars. 

“You don’t look so good,” Boba eventually mutters, a hint of something laced in his tongue.

“Gee, thanks,” you reply groggily, pinching the bridge of your nose as your brows furrow. 

Just let me fucking sleep in peace.

“How’s your head?” You were too tired to figure out if it’s concern or smugness in his voice. 

Probably both. 

Definitely both. 

“Do you have to talk so loud?” You complain lamely, opening your eyes to shoot a miserable glare in your boyfriend’s direction. 

He snorts, shaking his head in spite of you before motioning you over with two fingers. His voice is low when he speaks. 

“C’mere.”

You stare at him for a moment but the light is reflecting painfully off the dome of his helmet and you think that your brain is fucking bleeding. 

“Don’t want to,” you reply, trying to play it off as disinterest rather than the inability to walk the three paces to sit in his lap. 

When he doesn’t immediately react, you avert your gaze to stars and thank the Maker that you can finally close your eyes and have some peace —

A scoff crackles through his modulator, and you don’t open your eyes to glance in his direction as he stands from the pilot’s seat and moves.

Space is silent and his heavy footsteps ring throughout the cockpit and send vibrations through every bone in your body. 

He inserts himself between your slightly parted legs and hovers there for a moment, you can feel his gaze searing into your flesh despite your lack of vision.

His scent is overwhelming — something masculine and spicy, fresh and clean.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He questions softly, leaning forward ever so slightly to cage you in between the co-pilot’s seat and his armor. 

His bare hand cradles your cheek before trailing down to wrap around the nape of your neck. 

Your eyelashes flutter open and you meet the ominous visor. 

“Nothing.”

It’s a plain lie that’s so clear and plastic that it loses all the sharpness and edge that a true lie holds.

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on you. “Really? Nothing’s bothering you?” 

This time you shake your head. “Nothing,” you repeat with more firmness.

Stubborn.

He nods thoughtfully, a hum rumbling through his helmet before straightening out, pulling away from you a bit.

You sigh out a small breath of relief, finally having the space to breath air that wasn’t him. 

You let your eyelids slump shut again, though you should’ve know better than to think your stubborn boyfriend would leave you alone.

“Hey!”

He’s scooping you up in his arms, pressing you against his chest and moving before you can wiggle out of his grasp. 

He’s still carrying you when he descends the ladder, you’re too disoriented to figure out how but he does nonetheless.

He flops you down on the bed, tugging your dirty shirt over your head.

Oh. Oh.

You mentally shrug because even with the pounding of your skull you wouldn’t mind a quick fuck before bed—

But then Boba presses his palm against your forehead and pushes you against the pillow — and you also then realize that he had only removed your dirty shirt so that you wouldn’t complain about the *germs* getting on your pillowcase (which causes acne, you dutifully remind him - not that his buckethead cares).

Though you give him credit where it’s due. 

He’s being thoughtful. 

He disappears without a word, returning only a few moments later. 

He outstretches his hand to reveal three painkillers.

Thoughtful bastard. 

You’re still lying flat on the mattress and your eyebrows furrow. “I said that I’m not—”

He tugs his helmet off his head with a short breath, tossing it haphazardly at the foot of the bed.

Sometimes you forget how beautiful he is beneath his green bucket. 

Tanned olive skin, dark wavy hair that’s borderline shaggy, calculating eyes that glisten with mirth, and rosy lips that are tilted into a boyish smirk. 

“They’re not for you, kid,” he grumbles teasingly before throwing the three pills to the back of his mouth before taking a single gulp of the glass of water that’s still beside your bed from the night before. “Now move over.”

It’s a miracle that you actually listen, scooting to the other side of the bed so that he can collapse on the mattress.

His arms drag you into his chest as soon as he settles, tucking the top of your head beneath his chin. 

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he utters, voice tainted from exhaustion but you can hear the adoration. 

You smile softly, burying your face in his neck so that you can press a kiss to his collar. 

“And you’re annoying.”

Good thing I love you. 

#boba fett #bob morley #boba fett x reader #boba fett headcanons #star wars #self insert #reader insert #corrupt-fvcker #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #we love our green booger

[the-obiwan-for-me]

Yeah, so, I was going to say it "kriff it" and post the first chapter of the sequel to "She Said the Word," "More Than Blood," tonight. About a week before I thought I would, but I was ready to get this damn party started!

Sadly, my very tired, arthritic hand dropped my laptop on my tile floor, and, well, looks like a new laptop is in the works and I'm not screwing around trying to post a brand new work on AO3 from my phone! So, no first chapter tonight!

But, I'm bummed and need some serotonin, so I'm going to share a bit from the chapter!

Quick orientation: this story takes place 8 years after the conclusion of "She Said the Word."

Asks are open if you have questions or want to chat about what might happen! I'm super pumped for this story (and completely terrified, since I don't have the backbone of the Clone Wars to build upon).

Lily hit the duracrete with a clatter and a loud groan. “Kriffing hells.” She lay still for a long moment, willing the air that had been knocked from her lungs in the impact back to where it belonged. “Jare’la,” she whispered to herself in Mando’a, climbing to her feet and looking around for the kid.

She’d fallen because she’d been distracted, trying to keep tabs on the bolting, panicking kid, and now she’d actually lost sight of him. “Di’kut,” she swore at herself, taking off at a jog, reaching out through the Force, searching for a spark of primal panic. She found it, and chased it around a dark corner, only to see the kid scrambling down an access ladder.

“Come on, kid!” she shouted down, wincing at the cold tone her helmet’s voice modulator gave her. “I’m here to help!”

“E chu ta ovv, Mando!” The Rodian boy shouted up at her.

“Rude,” she muttered, while she considered her next move. She could hustle down the ladder, too, and the kid would maintain his lead and she would continue to chase him until he either slipped away in the night on this stink hole of a planet, or run right square into the people she was trying to protect him from.

She could jump, again, as it was only three or four stories, and actually pay attention this time, stopping herself from hitting the pavement quite so hard.

She wished she could use her jetpack- that always made everything easier- but the stinking humidity of Nal Hutta had fucked up the compressors and she’d yet to find time to recalibrate them.

She jumped.

Calling the Force to her, she willed the molecules of the air around her to condense and cushion her. The air ceased to rush past her, and she touched down lightly at the base of the ladder, just as the kid was turning from it and coiling to sprint away.

If it was possible, his shimmering black eyes went even wider and he froze.

“Uba’laz jeedai!”

Lily held her hands up, trying to placate the terrified boy. She thought she’d been told he spoke Basic, but all he’d spoken so far was frantic, rough Huttese. Lucky for Lily, she’d been taught frantic, rough Huttese by her brother.

“Nopa prawda! Dobrah pateesa.”

His eyes traveled up and down the length of her, truly studying her for the first time. “Come on, kid,” she pleaded.

In an instant, he made up his mind. With frightening speed, he ran headlong into her, tackling her at the waist, and they both went tumbling to the ground, a tangle of limbs. He landed a few good hits into her ribs from atop her, but, unfortunately for him, Lily was exceptionally trained in hand to hand, and this kid was just a wild mess of aimless fists and elbows.

In two, swift decisive moves, Lily had flipped their positions and pinned the kid to the ground, his arms trapped to his sides. “Be still. Shulu stidd.” She fished out a tiny holoprojector as the kid fussed and wiggled under her, hissing a string of some of the filthiest Huttese she’d ever heard. “You’re making your mothers awfully proud, kid,” she growled as she activated the projector. Two Rodians flickered to life, and the kid suddenly fell still and his face softened, his terror washing away.

He listened quietly as his mothers implored him to come with the Mandalorian. That they weren’t angry, just frightened for him. Lily felt his intention change and shift, so she scooted away from him, sitting on the ground, pulling him up to a seated position, sat beside him, placing the projector in his hands, and watched him quietly. He played the message twice more before turning his large, black eyes to her.

“You’re really here to help me?” he asked in Basic.

She nodded. “I really am.”

“I’m in a lot of trouble,” he whispered.

“I gathered.”

Stay tuned! I will be posting the whole chapter soon!

#she said the word #sequel #more than blood #fanfic #fanfic writing #star wars fanfiction #obitine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #korkie kryze #korkie is a kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #bo katan kryze #ahsoka tano #captain rex #lily bo kryze kenobi #our boy tol'ket #Bo'ket #Kid!Luke #Kid!Leia #other special guests #who knows? maybe Hondo will show up. i dont even know anymore

[dragonheart-swtor]

Imperial Agent Storyline: Drunk History Version

Since people really seemed to like the last one! Y’all’s collective wish is my command. Spoilers for the Imperial Agent storyline, obviously. Enjoy!

- so you start out with your agent on Hutta, a little polluted slimeball of a world that literally everyone but the Hutts canonically hates. there's lore but we're going to ignore it. the important thing is that you're here to con a Hutt, always a dangerous gambit, into working with/for the Empire.

- you sneak into a corner to space facetime your boss, a guy we only ever know as Keeper because Intelligence is weird about names. sneaking into corners to facetime people is a repeating theme throughout the story.

- you are informed that you've already got a cover story set up, and you'll be posing as an infamous pirate called the Red Blade who'll be able to get in close to the Hutt in question, whose name I've forgotten. Nethro or Nefro or something.

- "wait, what about the actual Red Blade," you ask your boss, probably

- "he's halfway across the galaxy, you don't need to worry about him," your boss replies, in a textbook example of what we in the writing business call “foreshadowing”

- (spoiler alert: you need to worry about him)

- but we won't worry about that for now. bada bing bada boom, you stroll on into the Hutt's place. you are immediately confronted by a guy who, shock and horror, actually knows the real Red Blade and knows you ain't him. (one would think that all-seeing Intelligence would have known about him, but nuance.) this is a problem for a number of obvious reasons.

- your options are as follows: bribe him, kill him, or sleep with him. (this is also something of a recurring theme throughout the story.) whatever option you take, he's dealt with. (yes, this is the man eris fucked five minutes into her storyline.)

- (I didn’t want to pay him money, leave me alone.)

- anyway, the mission progresses smoothly. meet the Hutt, do some jobs for the Hutt, betray the Hutt's right hand and stab him in the back right after convincing him you were friends, invade the Hutt's rival's palace, McMurder the Hutt's rival, you know. your average day at the office

- most of the way through, the Hutt's other right hand starts to be suspicious about you. this is Kaliyo Djannis, and she will be Plot Relevant™.

- by which I mean she shortly thereafter walks in on you facetiming your boss and gets hired by Intelligence to help out for gods know what reason. welcome to your first companion

- (or possibly you walk in on her facetiming your boss in your room, I.. don't remember, honestly. something like that.)

- anyway one Hutt is dead the other is working with us bada bing bada boom this is going great and hey remember when I said you needed to worry about that guy you're impersonating this whole time? yeah, about that,

- so the real actual Red Blade comes sailing in to Hutta and Intelligence immediately calls you up like "hey, hate to bother you, but your cover's about to get blown in a big way and we need you to murder the guy whose identity you've stolen before he can expose you.” 

- "so, just like that training mission last week. gotcha, boss, no problem."

- murder time™

- congration you done it! go home to Dromund Kaas.

- "You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home." [nonhuman Agent immediately experiences 27492738957 microaggressions] (this joke isn’t mine, for the record)

- first off, Intelligence HQ has a bomb aesthetic, as does the entire Empire in general

- second off, you do walk in on your boss talking to - by which I mean "being given a speech by" - a Dark Lord, which is less than optimal for a number of reasons, first and foremost that speeches by Dark Lords of the Sith quite often immediately precede someone getting killed

- said Dark Lord is one Darth Jadus, who will proceed to be a thorn in your side for approximately the next three hours of gameplay

- (don't worry, after that three hours you'll get a worse thorn)

- Darth Jadus decides he likes you and declares you "his" agent, which you immediately get the gist is about the worst thing that can happen to an Intelligence agent from the way everyone around you treats you like you've just had a ticking bomb strapped to your back for the rest of this meeting

- you're sent on a handful of missions, including one to the Dark Temple which, you know, Force-deaf people aren't supposed to be in, but Jadus Does Not Care

- Jadus calls you into his office at one point and tells you he's going to do some ritual to bind you to his service or something, it's not really clear, but it's clearly Not Optional and also terrifying in concept

- now, quick sidebar. there are basically two paths to take here: one where you suck up to the Sith and treat them with the utmost care and respect and fear like you're kind of supposed to, and one where you mouth off at every opportunity. Eris is mortally terrified of Sith, so she just kind of.. submitted knowing she was going to die if she didn't.

- my second run, however, was just a "hey how bad can I fuck this up" character because I already knew the story.

- I decided to mouth off to Jadus at every opportunity, including adamantly refusing this ritual.

- "What can he do to me?" I asked the person I was playing with. "I'm the protagonist! It's not like he can kill me!"

- Jadus: *kills me*

- me:

- (mechanically, anyway; story-wise I'm sure he just. put her on the brink of death. but mechanically speaking he literally actually did kill my toon)

- (this should be a warning for exactly how much this storyline is willing to put its usually-heavily-plot-armored protagonist through.)

- anyway.

-  do some missions, blah blah blah, Sith possession in the Dark Temple, blah blah blah, you know the drill

-  well, turns out Jadus is going on tour with several hundred Imperial civilians, military, and Sith, allegedly all hand chosen, to share his ~vision for the Empire~. that's all well and good, whatever I gue-

- sorry what do you mean his ship exploded

- what do you mean a member of the Dark Council just blew up in orbit

- cue Kill Bill sirens

- Panic! At The Intelligence HQ

- this throws everything into chaos; not only was Jadus more directly involved in Intelligence, but he was a Dark Councilor so now there's a massive power vacuum

- the Sith who ends up filling this power vacuum? Jadus's daughter, Darth Zhorrid.

- remember when I said you'd have a bigger thorn in your side after Jadus?

- so yeah. so Zhorrid is, for lack of a better word, fucking terrifying

- she's sadistic and completely careless of others' lives or wellbeing and oh yeah she also instantly latches onto you even harder than her father did and demands you find his killer

- a lot of your meetings with her aren't really plot-relevant so I'll sum them all up here:

- Zhorrid was horribly abused by Jadus, completely broken. She tells you a story about how she used to sing, and her father hired a tutor, then had her sing at a Kaas City performance until her throat was so damaged she could never sing again. He tore every scrap of joy out of her life, completely failed to teach her what she needed to know to survive the rigors of the Dark Council, and instilled every ounce of hatred, sadism, and complete lack of pity he could in her.

- She kills people for no reason other than a whim, because she was listening to a Sith opera and the aria was "very moving" (an actual literal thing that happens).

- She acts like a complete spoiled brat child. At one point the other Dark Councilors literally beat and torture her, presumably for this reason because she's insufferable and arrogant and way out of her depth, and she cries to you about it

- If you’re like me, your response to all this is basically “cool motive, still murder”

- I have sidetracked  very hard. where was I

- so you spend a while trying to hunt down the people who blew up Jadus's ship. There's a bunch of rebels, you hunt them down, they've got biotech weapons called Eradicators set up to destroy cities on multiple planets, skippity skip to the big reveal

- Jadus is alive, and he organized the whole thing so he'd be able to remake the Empire into the image he wanted. He tortured and enslaved the survivors of the Dominator's destruction

- Jadus gives you a whole speech about how fear is a gift to be shared and "Through victory my chains are broken" but there must be chains to break and blah blah blah holy shit this man is genocidal

- you have three choices: join him for real, pretend to join him so you can sabotage his ship and then kill him (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Imperial lives), or refuse outright and save those hundreds of thousands of lives but Jadus escapes (and you know he's allegedly likely to return and do even worse damage later).

- (Quick sidebar again, for those who haven’t played it: Eris chose the second option and has nightmares about it for the rest of her life. It's actually extremely haunting in-game - as you're running through Jadus's ship to sabotage it as fast as possible, you can hear the distress calls from various colonies and planets being attacked, the screams of the dying that you doomed. It's horrifying.)

- so yeah there’s really no winning that situation but hey! at least Chapter One’s over. surely in Chapter Two things can’t get worse.

- Chapter Two: Things Get Worse

- there's this guy, Ardun Kothe, an SIS agent. he's a huge threat for some reason I don't remember. you're supposed to infiltrate the SIS to get close to and eventually kill him. not an easy job, but okay, we can do this.

- Intelligence sets up the meeting; months ago they sent the first word to Kothe that there was an Intelligence agent ready to turn and they've been building up from there, sending him a steady stream of information

- enter Hunter, aka the worst bastard in this entire storyline and that is an achievement. He's the one you meet first on Nar Shaddaa.

- you do some missions for the SIS, whatever, it's not important. You finally get to meet the rest of the team - and Ardun Kothe.

- Kothe wants to speak alone, which is p typical tbh. He expresses some doubts, which you assuage as best you can; he gives you your code name: Legate. It's from a form of sabbac, he explains, you'll have to play with him sometime.

- (It is difficult for me to make what happens next funny instead of horrifying, so forgive me if the tone changes a bit here.)

- Everything is going fine.

- "I'm sorry about this, Legate."

- What?

- "Keyword: onomatophobia. Engage Thesh protocols, phase one."

- Everything is not fine.

- You black out and have an extremely rude awakening.

- So it turns out whatever happened with Jadus, the Dark Council decided you were too dangerous (usually for doing your job too fuckin well) and that you needed to be leashed. So not you have mind control programming in your brain, and anyone who has your keyword can take complete and unequivocal control of your body. this is, in a word, not great.

- (This is, as I mentioned, actually extremely horrifying. You have dialogue options and they don’t change what you actually say. You have an opportunity to shoot Kothe and even if you try to select it nothing happens. But we’re not here for the horror take (not today, anyway) so let’s just This Is Fine that and move on)

- Tl;dr you can’t harm Kothe or any members of his team, you’re forced to obey anyone who has your keyword, and this wouldn’t be that much of a problem because we’ll just tell Watcher Two what’s happened and oh wait you can’t tell anyone about your programming either. well, shit.

- You go on to work double agent, like it was planned, with this new, uh. twist

- about a third of the way through the chapter, your mind kind of cracks and you start having hallucinations - seeing things you know can't be real during a holocall, passing out in the middle of your ship and waking up in medbay.

- After that, a new voice lives in your head! Watcher X, someone you either killed or let flee on Nar Shaddaa, has sort of joined the party. Is he an AI in the spinal implant the real Watcher X gave you? is he a figment of your broken mind trying to process its situation? Who knows! Not you! either way, this is not optimal but at least he seems to be being helpful this time

- so anyway we should probably try and figure out how to undo this programming bc Intelligence is being Wholly Unhelpful

- (ASAP, please, especially with how horrible Hunter acts toward you - let’s go with “uncomfortably leery,” which I promise is generous.)

- by the way, your companions still have no idea what’s going on during all this, although they try to be varying levels of supportive (thank you vector I love you bug husband)

- Good news! The Intelligence Archive almost definitely has information on what they did to you and how to fix it. Bad news! You’re definitely not authorized to look that up and crashing the power mainframe to make sure they don’t see you do it sends the security droids after you. whoops.

- Good news! There’s a way to fix you. Bad news! You have to make and inject yourself with a still-kinda-experimental cocktail of chemicals and it may or may not give you permanent brain damage. it’s fine. this is fine.

- also it takes a while to kick in which is Less Than Optimal and by the time it finally does you’ve just been left with a binding order to stay and guard the door on what is, for you, a suicide mission. there’s some incentive to “break your chains” for ya.

- You fight and kill Kothe. Who, shock and awe! is an ex-Jedi! this was in no way painfully obvious by how he kept talking about “sensing” things, I’m sure. definitely not.

- Hunter escapes, because of fuckin course he does. Hunter, who suddenly seems far more in control of everything than he had before. Hunter, who knows far more than he should. Hunter, who ends up leading you to a much, much larger conspiracy.

- End Chapter 2.

- Hate to disappoint, but Chapter 3 is honestly the least interesting to me personally, so this’ll be brief compared to the previous chapters

- You spend a lot of time hunting down this much larger conspiracy, including Hunter specifically. There's a lot of betrayal and secret reveals. (It's not tedious by any stretch of the imagination, but the story beats definitely don't stick in my head as well as the first two chapters, even after two playthroughs.)

- you go to Voss and, in order to get into a Voss-only archive, get married to a person you just met before almost immediately leaving the planet (and your new spouse) behind. this is never mentioned again.

- you get hold of a holorecording from the Star Cabal, the big conspiracy. problem: the holorecording contains a trap for the brain-enhanced Watchers, and now half of Intelligence is in a vegetative state. this is not optimal.

- partially as a result of this, Intelligence basically gets dissolved, which is Not Great because it puts you right under the thumb of yet another asshole Sith lord

- the Watchers are recovering, though, so that’s something. Watcher Two, now Keeper (the old Keeper got promoted), contacts you so you can keep working on this Star Cabal thing.

- you get intentionally captured so the Star Cabal can torture you and you can “break” and give them false information to lead them into a trap. you are immediately afterward expected to get back to work like nothing happened. this is never mentioned again.

- You track the Star Cabal to their base, way out in the Unknown Regions iirc, and infiltrate it during a meeting of the top agents.

- murder time 2: electric boogaloo (well, more like murder time 45, to be honest, but shh it’s fine)

- You fight the Star Cabal guys, chase Hunter through the whole place, and finally corner him.

- (Salt warning ahead on my part for the next story beat, if you can call it that.)

- Hunter, when beaten, reveals what I personally think is the most bullshit stupid reveal in the entire game: he is actually a she, and has been using a stealth field generator (or something similar) to change his/her appearance the entire time. There are multiple interpretations of this - "he's trans" is my least favorite, sorry-not-sorry, because a) it's pretty clear she still considers herself a woman and Hunter is just a convenient persona, and also b) a clearly predatory man is absolutely horrid representation as far as playing into harmful stereotypes about trans people, thanks. Personally, my rather cynical interpretation is that they wanted one more shock value reveal at the end of the storyline and I guess couldn't come up with anything better. It's my least favorite thing in the whole IA storyline.

- anyway, that's not really important. I just needed to be mad about it for a minute. ignore me. moving on

- The important part is this: what you gain from the Star Cabal's base is an item called the Black Codex, an ancient piece of technology with the power to erase all records of a person's existence.

- Unless you are very stubborn about it the Agent’s reaction to this is basically “oh thank fuck I’m freeeeeeeeee” and you fly off into the hyperspace sunset with your crew, giving middle fingers to the Sith whose grip you’re escaping all the way. which, really, who can blame you.

And that’s the Imperial Agent storyline, folks. Roll credits. I’ll probably do the Bounty Hunter storyline next while it’s still fresh in my mind, but I could also do the Sith Warrior storyline probably if y’all’re more interested, vote now on your phones.

#unfortunately I don’t remember jack shit from the Jedi Knight storyline #so until i finish replaying it y'all're just gonna have to hold your horses on that one #swtor #imperial agent #drunk history swtor #i have the original much more serious version of me summarizing that first scene with kothe in drafts btw #should anyone want to see it #it's the version where i actually tried to get across to someone who'd never played the game the absolute horror of that scene #and was; i think; fairly successful #the notes on the sith inquisitor post have finally slowed down so i think it's time to post this one