#he had some good moments in the clone wars but this is really the first time ive seen him written this way so far

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Okay so I am back to reading Star Wars books, and I have JUST started Shatterpoint and I already know this books is gonna be great because..

No more than a couple pages in (it’s an e-book idk how many pages in the physical copy it is..it might be the first page idk 🤷🏻‍♀️) Mace Windu expresses regret over not killing Dooku on Geonosis

He’s overthinking and stressing over that decision and why he made it

And what is one of the reasons he couldn’t bring himself to kill Dooku?

Because they were friends

Because he LOVED HIM

Yeah. You read that correctly. Mace Windu loved Count Dooku. His words. Not mine. He used the word love. They were friends before Dooku left the order and Windu admits it to himself that he could not let him go, could not separate the jedi he knew with the man in front of him.

That’s right. Mace Windu. The man whom so many fans believe is a cold and unfeeling asshole.

That man, believes that he potentially allowed his love for the Dooku that was his friend stop him from killing him.

He thinks he might’ve

allowed his emotions to cloud his judgement

and cannot get over that feeling of regret.

And that is so goddamn important to me.

[phoneycam]

(((((The brainrot 4))

"Whenever your soulmate says your name, you sneeze."

I think this could be really wholesome.

Like, The first months of war go by in The Negociator without much else happening beside, you know, the war, and some really needed plot bonding moments between General Kenobi and his men, getting them to slowly soften their hearts to this brilliant, altruistic, posh little jedi.

Commander Cody, in a jump of good fate, decides to be the first to entrust his general his most valuable possession, his name. The General, too moved by it, isn't capable of doing anything else than smile sincerely and thank him with all his heart for it. If Cody's heart skips a couple of beats because of it, it's no one's business.

And life goes on like that, between battles and small moments, with the only difference being that from time to time, the commmander would have random sneezes that he had never suffered before. They would be spaced long enough one from the other to not be an urgent thing to think about, so he never mentions it, plus he finds them rather embarrassing.

Then one day they are all rounded in front of a hologram, planning and strategising when Obi-Wan, unconsciuslly and for the first time, calls his commander name and not his title.

And Cody Sneezes.

And you know what? The thing is that, clones aren't really accustomed to sneezing since their superior genetics make colds a really rare thing. So when Cody sneezes, it's impossible to ignore. One, because despite the unconscious need to silence it, it still makes a sound, small and breathy and two, is due to the fact that Cody sneezes with his whole body. His head ducks, his shoulders rise impossibly high and he needs to shake his head afterwards, like if he's trying to restart his system.

Instant silence all around. Everyone to startled to speak and the general looking at him in awe while Cody just wants to be ejected into space and get hitted by a starfighter. Obi-Wan's interior little shit comes to light and he decides that he needs to prove inmediatelly his mental theory, and with some badly hidden excitment for a claimed negociator, he repeats Cody's name.

And Cody sneezes again. And chaos bursts all around.

Obi-Wan being the bastard that he is repeating his commanders name non-stop with delight, The troopers shouting in excitment and "collecting evidence" for later and Cody just looking like those cats sneezing videos.

[tossawary]

Something I found surprising when revisiting the prequel trilogy is how much the clones aren't full characters in the movies. They're props. They're devices. The films give them the same weight and attention as they give the Separatist droids, really. The only two clone troopers I can easily name off the top of my head who get "named" in any way are Oddball and Cody, who are both just barely in "Revenge of the Sith", and interchangeable in their roles with any other background clone.

It's interesting when held up against "The Clone Wars" and other extension material, which had the time and inclination to say more directly, "Hey, these are people and what's happening to them is wrong." Like, obviously what's happening in Ep2&3 is wrong, the audience can draw that conclusion on their own, growing people as cannon fodder is a clear part of the greater tragedy if you take about five seconds to think about the situation here. Even without the element of the entire war being constructed and controlled by the main villain, the clones are a tragedy.

But, oh man, the movies themselves don't really care to focus on that. It's SUCH a background element. I had a "oh, yeah, Order 66 being programmed into a control chip was a later addition to / clarification of canon" moment while watching, because as far as Ep3 actually shows us (as was the initial intention by some, I know), Cody apparently knew the entire time that he might be called to fire on Obi-Wan Kenobi and was just waiting on the call. The "homogenous evil army" trope is... very much present and even more identical than usual here.

By the films alone, you can easily assume that the clone troopers have no love for any of the Jedi (whom we're meant to believe are relatively decent people) for a variety of reasons. Their upbringing and training on Kamino was presumably cold and brutal. They're (possibly enslaved) soldiers in an even more brutal war. This army is offered no development or individuality that makes the appalling Jedi Temple massacre out of character for any of them.

But when the various Clone Wars shows first turned the clones into individual characters and even protagonists, many of whom are shown to be good people and become friendly with the Jedi through years of teamwork in life-or-death situations, Order 66 became weird. "Wait, why would the majority of clones (all the clones we see in the movies, at least) just go along with this? What went wrong here?"

I get why TCW and SW canon settled on the control chips option and I find it interesting enough. The tragedy of it all makes me want to lie facedown on the floor. Darth Sidious is really winning at sheer evilness here.

On the other hand, there are some really fun and interesting "Order 66 was taught, not programmed" AUs to revisit here. Especially when some of the other (Legends canon now) contingency orders include what to do if the Supreme Chancellor is incapacitated or declared unfit, or even getting rid of the Supreme Chancellor and assuming control by lethal force if necessary. Presumably these orders existed as a back-up in case Palpatine wasn't elected to the seat in time for the war or didn't manage to get rid of term limits and was replaced as Chancellor at any point.

That really sounds like Palpatine's evil army of ruthless Jedi-Killers (unchipped) could have easily backfired on him if they'd ever decided all of these non-clones were unfit and organized to take power for themselves. I love any scenario where Palpatine's arrogant and overly complicated plans get him in trouble. The "homogenous evil army" often gets treated as a mindless mob, but while the clones may have some degree of emotional suppression, they're clearly very capable and not unintelligent, and they're not given many (if any) reasons to be loyal to the Republic. And it is FUNNY to imagine any Dark Lord's created army deciding that he fucking sucks at war (there's obviously a leak, why the FUCK are they losing so much ground to fucking droids) and they're overthrowing him for better benefits, so that they can create and run a more efficient Evil Empire themselves.

You could make this angsty as hell or a comedy, or both. I'm imagining the clones at the eleventh hour murdering Chancellor Palpatine with such brutal efficiency that it feels like its own kind of prejudice. And he gets revealed as a Sith Lord in the process (this was taken into account as a potential problem when planning the assassination), so there's an initial moment of: "I can't believe it! He was the Sith Lord in the Senate all along! How did you know?"

Cody: "Didn't."

Obi-Wan: "...Pardon?"

Cody: "This is a coup, sir."

Like, if we're going by what's shown in the movies alone, there's a clear Emperor Cody AU to be had here. Which can be played as a temporary (years long) measure to reinstall a Republic with proper checks and balances, while a bemused Jedi Order and Senate are held hostage, or the First Galactic Empire is established as per canon just with the clones running it and reaping the benefits. I'm currently enjoying thinking about the latter scenario as a dark comedy, in which Future Emperor Cody (or the clone of your choice) has to negotiate in his spare time with the various demands of his fellow clones. (Who are, let us remember due to the horror that is the accelerated aging, a bunch of teenagers at the oldest here.)

Rex: "I want Tatooine."

Cody: "The whole planet?"

Rex: "Yeah."

Cody: "It's a shithole."

Rex: "Yeah, but it'll make Skywalker so kriffing mad, so I'm calling dibs."

Cody: "Noted."

And if you want to write shipfic, there's always the AU of various Evil Army Clones meeting their love interest and then going, "Not evil anymore! Sorry, guys." Which could be angsty or another dark-ish comedy.

Cody @ the clone commander group chat: "WE'RE NOT GIVING UP ON THE 3-YEAR IMPERIAL COUP PLAN JUST BECAUSE YOU HORNY ASSHOLES WANT TO FUCK JEDI!!! STOP TALKING ABOUT THE POWER OF LOVE!!! STOP IT!!!"

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 1:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy. Brief mention of blood. Canon violence.

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You couldn't even look at her.

That thought alone made you sick to your stomach. The fact that you couldn't bear to look at a woman simply because she was interested in the same man that you were, made you want to cry.

Am I really that shallow? You thought bitterly as you slammed the hydrospanner into the damaged component of the landing gear you’d been trying to dislodge.

I can’t believe I was so stupid! You jammed the point of the tool violently into a crack, trying to pry it out. Of course he’d go for her. She was prettier than you - funnier too.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Hunter is his own man. He likes someone else. Not a big deal.

Except for some reason, judging by the heavy ache in your chest, it was a big deal, no matter how much you tried to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine.

The landing gear piece was still stuck fast. You set down the hydrospanner and picked up the plasma cutter.

This better kriffing work or I’ll have Tech up my ass for a month about it. Not to mention having to tell Hunter that I broke the ship. Again.

You ran your fingers over the healing scar on your cheek and looked at the carbon scoring around the piece that stuck fast, fused in place by laser fire.

A smile made its way across your face as you remembered how it all happened. You were providing cover fire so they'd have time to escape - more exposed than you'd like to be, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle - until a stray shot hit the ship at just the right angle.

Hunter had tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the blast with his own body.

Despite the chaos around you, being in his arms felt safe.

“Don’t ever do that again!” It was meant to be an order but it felt different than any of the others he’d given over the past year. The way he’d taken your face into his hands, carefully examining the small, insignificant wound on your cheek. His face was unreadable but as you’d looked closer, his eyes were a whirlwind of relief that you hadn’t been hurt worse. There was something else there too - something that fed the hope hidden away in your core that your feelings toward him were reciprocated. He’d kept his hand on your arm as you stood up. They were strong, steady hands that kept you warm and stayed on your arm seconds longer than the moment demanded.

But then you’d found him in a closet with Phee’s sister only hours later at Cid’s parlour.

I’m so stupid. How could I have read him so wrong? What made me think I’d ever have a chance with a man like Hunter? You shook your head, angry at yourself for letting your guard down. For the first time since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you’d felt alive in a way that didn’t involve throwing yourself into violently dangerous situations. You felt at home with this band of misfit clones. You had finally allowed yourself to feel and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done that before. It was stupid and you would make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.

Finishing with the plasma cutter, you brought a wrench down hard with a loud clang. The piece barely moved an inch and you threw the tool down with a frustrated groan.

“You okay over there?” Phee poked her head around the corner, eyebrow raised.

“I’m good!” You grinned, hoping the faux smile would keep her from asking anymore questions. “Just trying to get this stubborn kriffing piece out so Tech can replace it when he gets back.”

Phee chuckled as you glared at the offending part. She walked over to the side of the ship, looking up and down at the stripped landing gear.

“Damn… what’d you guys get into this time?”

It was your turn to chuckle, grateful for the distraction from your spiraling negativity.

“That is a very complicated story,” Tech answered for you as he rounded the corner, “However, I do not currently have the time to tell it. We have another mission from Cid and should be leaving as soon as we’ve made our repairs.”

Good, you thought. Another mission might be just what you needed to get out of your head and back into the groove of things. Back to normal.

Tech stopped next to Phee in front of the landing gear, surveying the mess of tools and ship components. He frowned. “Although, it seems as though that may take a bit longer than I originally thought.”

He grabbed the hydrospanner from the ground by your feet and began prying at the piece you’d been working on. “I will fix this. You pick up the tools and get that carbon scoring off of those panels.”

Phee grinned as she began helping you scrape. “I love it when you get all bossy like that, Brown-Eyes.”

Tech’s cheeks darkened, the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.

You smirked. Tech and Phee were so different from each other. Her carefree sense of adventure and aptitude for playing fast and loose with the rules seemed opposite to Tech’s academic personality and rigid structure. But despite their differences, they seemed to bond over an innate sense of curiosity and wonder. They belonged together.

Like Hunter and I should be, you thought bitterly.

The silence that fell on the group as you worked was deafening. Every so often you caught Phee pausing to watch as Tech worked his magic with the repairs.

Tech remained oblivious, but found himself sending subtle glances towards her as she worked. Every glance felt like daggers through your chest. A reminder of what could have been yours.

“How’s it looking, Tech?” Hunter walked around the corner, setting a crate of explosives down for Wrecker to load onto the ship.

The knife you’d been using to scrape the panel suddenly felt heavy and clumsy in your hand. It slipped through your fingers as you frantically tried to catch it but failed as it hit the ground with a dull thud.

You gasped as a thin line of blood blossomed across your pointer finger and the palm of your hand.

“Kriff!” you grumbled under your breath. Hunter stepped forward quickly only to be intercepted by Phee who grabbed your injured hand, inspecting it.

“Eh, you’re fine,” she pulled a bacta patch from her pocket, quickly wrapping the injury as though she’d done it more than her fair share of times. “Be more careful with that next time,” she chided. You looked up expecting to see Hunter but he was gone.

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[antianakin]

Regarding Codywan; which one of the pair do you think would be more likely to fail at self-care, forcing the other to get them into bed, insist they take a break from the planning table and so on?

Cody. 1000% Cody.

For one, Cody is simply younger than Obi-Wan and so is going to have less experience in general, but he's also led an IMMENSELY sheltered life that was full of lots of strict routines that didn't allow him to do much of anything beyond what the Kaminoans allowed him to do. And there is no indication that one of those things the clones were taught was good mental health practices. In fact, you could argue that we have evidence they were explicitly NOT taught mental health practices since I think they tell us in TCW that the clones were told they'd had regular stress somehow engineered out of them. If the Kaminoans believed that, then presumably they wouldn't have felt the need to teach the clones how to effectively HANDLE stress beyond just... pushing through it to complete the objective/mission.

Cody is an incredibly competent person who seems to be pretty steady in a crisis, for sure, but I think he's primarily steady IN SPECIFIC SITUATIONS, all of which relate to battles and war and dealing with authorities. Take him out of that situation and he's probably going to struggle a little more with understanding the parameters of what's expected of him. He'd pick that kind of thing up VERY quickly, but it seems like something all of the clones would have to learn after leaving Kamino. Basic things like how to go shopping or going out to eat, even going to a club and the expectations for the social interactions in those places is going to have a learning curve.

I also think that the clones are probably going to be fairly good at managing physical health because maintaining their ability to do their jobs in that way would likely be something the Kaminoans would have kept in mind, but managing their emotional and mental health would be something entirely new. Like I said, they have been led to believe they don't experience stress and all of its related problems, so understanding what they feel and the best ways to handle it are going to be completely beyond them.

And this is where the Jedi can come in. They're literally intergalactic therapists, this is their bread and butter. Helping the clones understand what they're feeling and how to best manage what's happening to them would likely be one of the first building blocks of trust between the two groups. But there's obviously one Jedi among potentially THOUSANDS of troopers, so they probably start by passing along advice to a few of the higher ranked troopers and hope that it trickles down through the other men. And this could easily lead to some bonding between Obi-Wan and Cody, with Obi-Wan recognizing when Cody is pushing himself too far for too long and learning his tells for when he's tired but can go a little longer vs when he's basically dead on his feet and SHOULDN'T go any longer, or when he's in a mood to listen to advice from someone about getting rest vs when he's in a mental place where that's just not going to be taken well and might actually cause Cody to push himself even harder.

I'll also point out that, despite popular fandom characterization, Obi-Wan really doesn't show any inclination to push himself beyond what he can handle in canon. In what I think is season one of TCW, there's a moment somewhere between Obi-Wan and Anakin where Obi-Wan asks ANAKIN if he's slept and can tell that Anakin hasn't, implying that Obi-Wan probably HAS slept despite the stress of the situation. And then there's Landing at Point Rain where Obi-Wan gets badly injured and proceeds to sit through the majority of the battle. He only gets up ONCE, when it seems like their defenses are about to be broken and he has absolutely no other choice but to fight, and then as soon as reinforcements arrive he immediately sits back down again and STAYS seated even through Anakin and Ahsoka arriving, their mission debrief, and being treated by a medic. Everyone else literally has to gather around him because he refuses to move from his seated position. He never tries to get up and fight when he doesn't have to nor does he seem to avoid or refuse medical aid once it's available. At the end, he keeps leaning on Anakin and Ki-Adi-Mundi as he is led to a ship that will take him away from the field so he can get MORE medical aid and doesn't seem to be refusing that, either.

Even in the context of the films, during the fight with Dooku where he gets badly injured, he stays DOWN after that and lets Anakin handle the fight instead because he knows that trying to get up and keep fighting would just be a distraction. And it isn't that he CAN'T get up, we see him stand up and limp away later, but that there would be very little point in him trying to do so. And he doesn't seem to be trying to hide his injuries after the battle's over, either, he's very obviously limping and holding his arm.

Which isn't to say that Obi-Wan couldn't occasionally choose to pull all nighters if he felt it necessary for one reason or another, or that he would NEVER push himself through pain or exhaustion in certain situations, but I don't think that the fandom characterization of him as someone who can barely take care of himself and constantly hides injuries and avoids medical attention to the point of literally causing himself further harm is consistent with how he's actually shown in canon. We don't ever get to see Cody react to being injured, but given what we know of the clones' upbringing, it just makes more sense to me that Cody would struggle with pushing himself beyond what he SHOULD and with managing his own emotions.

[varpusvaras]

Fox's position as the scapegoat in fandom is very interesting and something I honestly think the writers kind of made him to be.

The part of the fandom (which is...really large) that doesn't like him always blames him for Order 66, in saying that "if he hadn't killed Fives, then Order 66 wouldn't have happened". Interestingly, they never blame Anakin, who had even more direct power to stop it. Fox had no idea that anything was going on, and did what he had been taught to do from the moment he was created: Followed orders. He didn't shoot Fives because he necessarily wanted to; meaning there were no personal feelings attached to what happened. Anakin, on the other hand, went and voluntarily murdered a lot of people for only personal feelings. But somehow that is not Anakin's fault.

(I've posted about it before, but the same people who blame Fox are always happy to boast about Anakin murdering him. Always happy to bring out Anakin's trauma as a slave, and then be happy about him murdering another slave, someone directly under his power, who had never known anything else than being a slave in his entire life, and who had been indoctrinated from birth to believe that being slave was all that he was, and that he should be proud of it)

Some fics from people who do like Fox also put him in the position of the scapegoat, where they have all the other clones blaming him for everything that had happened, and ostracise him. In some fics I've seen, they continue this even after the war has ended, even in scenarios where Palpatine didn't win, and this feels like the clones, who have been made to believe in the system, cannot make themselves blame said system. No, it's easier to blame one of their own instead, no matter how little power Fox ever had in his entire life.

The writer's also do this, by having Fox mess something up (in the writer's eyes at the very least) almost every single time he is on screen. I think the only time he wasn't positioned to be in the wrong in some capacity was on his first appearance in the movie, where he did a front flip down some stairs and shot at the bad guy of the movie. Almost every single other time he is doing something wrong or messing something up, causing something negative to happen, be it the bombing on Coruscant (not actually his fault, but the fault of the people who wanted to do it and prevent the peace talks from happening; still, Fox is put in the middle of it), or what happened with Ahsoka (from Fox's point of view, there was a dangerous person on the run, who had just killed multiple people in a violent way, and was continuing their rampage, killing his brothers as well). Objectively speaking, Fox is completely in the right with everything he does here, but the writer's still seem to position him to being wrong, because he is against Ahsoka, and Ahsoka is the character the viewer is supposed to be rooting for (no matter how much worse she actively makes her own situation during the arc).

No one ever remembers all the good qualities he had: he was hard-working, capable, brave, and cared for his brothers. No, instead, the fandom is endlessly debating over giving him, a slave who never knew anything else, some shred of dignity, while freely giving the absolution to the fascist who is standing over his still warm corpse.

[aynavaano]

The heat on Thyferra

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 9k

Summary: You got assigned to Clone Force 99 as a medic but also to keep an eye on their methods. It did’t take long for you to fall for Hunter and you fell hard, but it seemed like he was totally unaware. It got more difficult to deal with your feelings by the minute until after a heated training session you decide to ask for a reasignment.

Notes: This takes place during the Clone Wars pre Echo joining the Batch. Ngl this is completely self indulgent porn with very little plot. Mutual pining, idiots to lovers kind of, yearning, masturbation, consensual voyeurism, oral f! and m! receving, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, porn with feelings aka “It’s always been you”, slight cum/breeding kink, yeah Hunter has a breeding kink, knife kink if you squint, also no beta, I don’t have enough horny friends to proofread this insanity

Getting assigned to Clone Force 99 wasn’t what you had expected when you joined the Republic's science and medical corps. The stories about them were legendary—whispers of impossible missions pulled off by a squad of “defective” clones with a 100 percent success rate. But those stories also included frequent mentions of damaged equipment, questionable methods, trouble to follow orders and complete lack of reports, the bane of any commanding officer's existence.

You’d been with the 104th battalion, the Wolfpack, before this assignment, and leaving them had been hard. The boys had been good to you, treating you like one of their own. Commander Wolffe had even gone so far as to personally request that you stay with them when word came down that you were being reassigned. It seemed everyone in the GAR knew about your reassignment before you did, and you’d heard the murmurs—Clone Force 99, the “Bad Batch,” was getting a natborn and they were apparently not happy. Despite the rumors, the transitions was smoother than anticipated and they’d been kind to you from the start, even if none of them were particularly keen on having someone outside their tight-knit group join their ranks.

Well, almost all of them.

Crosshair, with his sharp tongue and sharper aim, took some time to warm up to you. The sniper was standoffish, always seeming to watch you from the corner of his eye, as though waiting for you to prove you didn’t belong. His words were often cutting, laced with sarcasm that bit deeper than he intended, or maybe exactly as he intended. But over time, you learned to see the cracks in his armor, the subtle ways he showed he cared—an extra ration pack left for you when supplies ran low or a slight shift in position that put you in the safest part of the formation during firefights. You’d come to realize that beneath the layers of snark and cold professionalism was a fiercely loyal and caring brother, someone who would lay down his life for his squad and now, it seemed, for you.

But it wasn’t Crosshair who stole your breath and left you with sleepless nights. It was Hunter, the sergeant and leader of the squad. From the moment you patched him up after your first mission together, you were hooked. You couldn’t help but be drawn to the contrast between his deadly efficiency in the field and the quiet, almost gentle demeanor he had off it. Hunter was everything a soldier should be—strong, capable, and confident—but it was the way he looked at you with those intense, caring eyes that made your heart race.

His long, curly hair and that signature skull tattoo had caught your eye the first time you saw him, but it wasn’t until you had him on the med table, shirt off, his muscled chest exposed, that you realized just how breathtaking he really was. The tattoo that stretched down the whole left side of his body, bold and dark against his tan skin, left you speechless. You remember how your hands had trembled slightly as you cleaned the wounds on his side, pretending not to notice the way his muscles tensed under your touch or the heat that radiated from his body.

“Everything alright there, Doc?” he’d asked, his voice smooth and low, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

You’d nodded too quickly, turning to grab more bandages to cover your flustered state.

“Just making sure you don’t end up with a nasty scar,” you’d managed to say, trying to sound professional even as your mind raced with thoughts you had no business entertaining.

He’d chuckled softly, a sound that didn’t help the slightest but in fact sent shivers down your spine.

“Don’t worry, scars are part of the job.”

But it wasn’t just the physical attraction that pulled you to him. It was the way he carried the weight of his squad on his shoulders, the way he always put them first, and how he made sure you were safe and taken care of, even when you were the one patching them up. It was the quiet moments when he would sit beside you after a mission, asking how you were doing, his voice full of genuine concern. He was always professional, always in control, but sometimes it felt like there was something more there, something simmering just below the surface, but you convinced yourself it was just your nerves, getting the best of you.

Every time you thought about him, every time you remembered the way his tattoo snaked down his body, the way his eyes darkened when he looked at you, it took all your willpower not to let your thoughts wander into territory that was far from professional.

You knew you were falling for Hunter. Hard. And no matter how much you tried to push those feelings down, they kept bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

At first, it was easy to dismiss the way your heart would skip a beat when he was around, chalking it up to simple attraction.

How could you not be physically drawn to him? You had seen him training one morning, his toned body moving with a deadly grace that left you breathless. His caramel skin glistened with sweat, each muscle defined and rippling under the effort of his workout.

That image was seared into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it.

But it was more than just the way he looked. The more time you spent with Clone Force 99, the more you saw the depth of Hunter's character. He wasn't just their leader; he was their protector, their confidant, their brother. The way he cared for his squad, always putting them first, always making sure they were safe and looked after, it made something inside you shift. Watching him interact with his brothers, seeing the soft side he showed them, the gentle way he handled their concerns, that was what truly made you fall for him.

And then, he decided you needed better training.

Despite your basic training and the fact that one of them was always by your side during missions, Hunter insisted on making sure you could take care of yourself. It was a logical decision, of course-ensuring that you were capable of defending yourself in the heat of battle. But it was also the beginning of your downfall.

You had managed to keep a professional distance up until then. Sure, you got close when you were patching him up, and the others had no problem with your occasional use of Wrecker as a giant pillow after a hard-fought battle. But training sessions were different. Having Hunter watch you during target practice with Crosshair, his eyes never leaving you, his voice low and encouraging, it was enough to make your pulse race. But it was the hand-to-hand combat training that really did you in.

His hands were on you constantly, guiding you through moves, showing you how to defend yourself, and it left you hot and bothered beyond reason. His touch, firm but careful, sent sparks through your body every time and left your skin burning. You could feel his breath on your neck when he got close, his scent surrounding you, making it impossible to focus on anything but him.

You'd leave those sessions flustered and on edge, your body aching for something more, something only he could give. Nights became torture. You'd wait until the others were asleep, until the sounds of their soft snores filled the ship, and Tech had retreated to the cockpit, closing the door for some peace and quiet. Only then would you allow yourself the release you so desperately needed. You'd slip a hand down your body, rubbing your pussy with feverish need, trying to imagine it was him. You'd fuck yourself on your fingers, your mind filled with thoughts of Hunter-his hands, his mouth, his cock.

You'd listen carefully, straining to make sure no one woke up, praying that your sounds were swallowed by the hum of the ship. Sometimes, you thought you heard a groan, something low and rough, but you convinced yourself it was just your nerves playing tricks on you. Your fingers would clutch the sheets, your teeth sinking into your pillow to muffle the moans and whimpers that threatened to escape. You didn't dare moan his name, didn't dare let anyone know how far gone you were.

But it was never enough. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you brought yourself to the edge and over, it never satisfied you.

Because what you really wanted-what you craved-was Hunter. You wanted him buried deep inside you, wanted to feel his cock stretching you, filling you in a way your fingers never could. The need for him consumed you, until you knew without a doubt that you were damned.

He was in your thoughts constantly, day and night, and you prayed to the Maker that he would soon be satisfied with your training so you could get some distance. But it only seemed to get worse. Every day was a struggle, every touch, every look a reminder of what you couldn't have. And the worst part was, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out before you snapped, before you threw caution to the wind and let the hunger take over. Because the truth was, you were already in too deep, and there was no going back.

***

The oppressive humidity on Thyferra was like a suffocating blanket that wrapped itself around you, making every breath feel thick and heavy. You had been on this forsaken planet for far too long, monitoring a nearby military base that was suspected to cooperate with Separatists and waiting for new orders that never seemed to come. The air was stifling, clinging to your skin, and the temperature was wearing you all out. Tech and Crosshair were out, trying to scavenge supplies and something edible other than ration bars from the next settlement, leaving you with Hunter and Wrecker. Wrecker, with nothing better to do, was snoring loudly in the shade of a massive tree, blissfully unaware of the discomfort the rest of you were enduring.

Hunter, however, was determined to continue your training, despite the unbearable heat. He seemed unaffected by the temperature, his focus solely on sharpening your skills. But you weren’t so lucky. The humidity made it hard to concentrate, and the fact that Hunter had discarded his shirt halfway into the session only added to your distraction. His caramel skin glistened with sweat, each movement highlighting the toned muscles beneath, and it took all of your willpower to keep your eyes on the task at hand.

You tried to focus, determined to finish the session with dignity, even as your body screamed for relief from the weather and the heat burning in your core. You countered Hunter’s next attack brilliantly, moving swiftly and with precision, managing to get a good grip on his arm. But just when you thought you had the upper hand, your sweaty hands slipped. Hunter didn’t waste a second, using your falter to his advantage. In one fluid motion, he had you pinned to the ground, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.

For a moment, all you could do was gasp, struggling to regain your breath. The world spun slightly as you blinked your eyes open, only to be met with the intense gaze of Hunter staring down at you. His knife was pressed lightly against your throat—a reminder of how easily he could have taken you down in a real fight—but it wasn’t only the weapon that had your heart racing. It was him. The weight of his body on yours, the heat radiating off of him, the musky scent of his sweat. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt heat pool low in your belly and your control slipping.

Your breath came in short, shallow pants, and you could see that Hunter was breathing heavily too, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat dripped from his wet hair, landing on your skin and mixing with your own. You suddenly were hyper-aware of every inch of him pressing down on you, every muscle in his body coiled and tense as he kept you pinned beneath him. The proximity was too much, the physical contact too intimate, and you felt something inside you snap.

Without thinking, you balled your fist and punched him in the gut. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was enough to surprise him, causing him to loosen his grip just enough for you to roll to the side and escape. You scrambled to your feet, your chest heaving, and you threw your knife to the ground in frustration.

“I’m done,” you spat out, your voice sharp with a mix of anger and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It’s too hot for this.”

You are too hot for this - you added in your thoughts before you turned and stomped away, not waiting for his response, not wanting to see the confusion—or worse, the understanding—in his eyes.

You stormed back toward the ship, your emotions a chaotic swirl inside you. It seemed Hunter had no idea what he did to you, the pure torture of having him so close, the way your body ached with need every time he was near. And even if he did know, you were convinced he didn’t feel the same. If he had, surely he would have made a move by now, right?

The thought brought tears to your eyes, and you blinked them back angrily, determined not to let them fall. You needed to get to the fresher, needed to cool down and take care of the throbbing between your legs that had become a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You forced yourself to breathe deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control. You couldn’t keep going like this, couldn’t keep torturing yourself with what you could never have.

You knew what you had to do. As soon as this mission was over and you were off this cursed planet, you were going to request a reassignment. Maybe you could go back to the Wolfpack, or find a spot with any other battalion. Anywhere, as long as it got you as far away from Hunter as possible. You liked being with the batch, you had grown to care about them all deeply, but staying would only lead to more suffering and you couldn’t keep acting like a little desperate tooka in heat, couldn’t risk that one day you’d get distracted on the battlefield and someone would get hurt.

The decision made, you felt a sense of resolve settle over you, though it did little to ease the ache in your heart. You’d do what you had to do, for your own sanity. But until then, you had to endure, had to find a way to keep your distance and survive this mission without letting your feelings get the best of you.

But you heard footsteps behind you already before you even reached the top of the ramp, your heart pounding in your chest.

When he called your name, you turned to face him, struggling to maintain your composure. Hunter's face was a mix of emotions, and you couldn’t quite decipher the expression in his eyes.

Was it concern? Frustration? Something else entirely? The turmoil boiling within you made it difficult to think clearly.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you too far," Hunter said, his voice low and sincere.

You let out a huff, trying to mask the storm raging inside you.

"It's just the climate," you answered, forcing a casual tone, "I need to calm down and take a shower."

But his gaze didn’t waver. It was intense, pinning you in place and making you squirm under its weight. For a split second, you thought he'll turn and leave, that this conversation would end with you retreating to the fresher to relieve the throbbing in your core and try to forget the way he made you feel. But then, he spoke again, and your brain short-circuited as you processed his words.

"Stop lying to me, I know where you’re going" he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "It's not the mission or the climate. It's me."

You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest. You didn’t know how to respond. His words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. For a moment, you half expected him to turn away, to say he doesn't want to put up with your drama any longer, to give you the reassignment you were wishing for just moments ago.

But when he spoke again, his voice was soft, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

"I heard you," he admitted, his eyes searching yours.

"Do you know how much torture it was, listening to your sweet whimpers, your muffled moans of my name? How often you made me make a mess in my own bunk, unable to do anything about it because I didn't want to let you know I noticed and risk making you uncomfortable?"

His words left you speechless, your thoughts spinning. You thought you’d made sure they were all fast asleep, karking hell, Hunter and his heightened senses. You’d never imagined he knew, let alone that he might feel the same way. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and all the carefully constructed walls you've built to protect yourself came crumbling down in an instant. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but there was also a flicker of hope, a small spark of something that made you want to step forward, to close the distance between you.

You tried to speak, but your voice failed you, the words catching in your throat. All that came out was his name, a whisper, barely audible. Finally, you managed to choke out,

"I'm sorry."

Hunter's expression softened, and he stepped closer, his presence comforting despite the heat that threatened to consume you.

"Cyar’ika," he murmured, the endearment made your heart flutter.

"There’s nothing to be sorry about."

He paused, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"But I can’t handle it anymore, one more night of listening to your sweet sounds, one more day on the ship, filled with the scent of your arousal without any relief and I will go crazy," he continued, his voice thick with a mix of desire and restraint.

"Please, just let me watch you. *Gedet’ye*."

The mando’a term send a flush straight to your cheeks, the vulnerability in his voice, the raw need—how could you possibly deny him when he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy?

"I won’t touch you if you don’t want it, just want to see you, want to see what I could only imagine all those nights listening" he said, his voice a little softer now, almost pleading.

"That’s enough for me."

It’s then you noticed the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the faint tremor in his words. He was afraid—afraid that maybe he was just a fantasy for you, a secret desire you indulged in but never intended to bring into reality.

For a moment, the power dynamic shifted. The usually confident and composed sergeant seemed vulnerable, exposed in a way you’ve never seen him before. This side of him, this raw honesty, made you fall for him even more deeply, your heart aching with the need to give him everything.

You couldn’t find your voice, so you nodded, your body moving on instinct, your mind still reeling from the weight of the moment. You had no idea where this would lead, but you did know one thing—you wanted him completely. But if watching you is all he wanted, you’d give it to him, without hesitation.

Hunter took a quick glance outside to ensure Wrecker was still snoring away under the tree. Once he was satisfied that you were alone, he squeezed your hand gently and guided you into the cockpit. The door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss, sealing you both inside the dimly lit space.

He led you to the pilot's chair, and you couldn't help but think of Tech's reaction if he knew you were about to do something so... filthy in his sacred cockpit.

Hunter sensed your hesitation and hesitantly cupped your face, his touch warm and steady, anchoring you to the moment.

"It's just us, cyar'ika," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

"No one has to know what happens between us if you don’t want to."

He guided you to sit in the pilot's chair, his presence overwhelming in the small, enclosed space. You pulled him down with you, taking his hands in yours encouraging him to touch you. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as he knelt down in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs, urging them apart. You let out a shaky breath, your nerves and excitement tangling together in a heady mix.

Hunter's hands slid down your sides, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He searched your gaze for confirmation pulling slightly. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you lifted your hips, allowing him to slide your pants and panties all together down your legs.

He inhaled deeply and when he looked back up at you, the golden brown in his eyes was almost gone, replaced by dark pupils blown with lust.

“Fuck”, he hissed through gritted teeth “so beautiful. Show me how you've been touching yourself, thinking about me. Let me see you fall apart for me."

Your heart raced as you slowly started to rub your clit, circling it with your fingers, your other hand sliding down to tease your entrance. You let out a shaky breath, your hips moving in time with your fingers, but it was not enough.

You whimpered, your fingers sliding over your slick folds, it just wasn't enough. Not now, when he was there, watching you with that intense gaze, his breath ghosting over your skin. Your fingers didn't satisfy you the way you needed; they never had.

You let out a pathetic whine, a sound that was part frustration, part desperate need.

"I want you to make yourself come for me”, Hunter said, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through your entire body.

You shook your head, your breath hitching in your throat.

"I can't”, you whined, your voice breaking with the intensity of your longing.

"It's not enough, Hunter." the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

The plea hung between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. There was no going back now, not after this.

Whatever happened, you couldn't just walk away and pretend nothing had changed. You were too far gone, too wrapped up in him, in this moment.

"Please”, you begged, your voice trembling, as every last bit of your restraint left you.

"I need more. A kiss, your fingers-just something.”

Hunter's eyes darkened with desire, and a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. He stood and, with deliberate slowness, pulled down his shorts, revealing his rock hard cock. It was even more glorious than you had imagined - thick, long, with a slight curve that promised to hit all the right spots. The sight of precum beading at the tip made your mouth water.

You gasped, your eyes locked on him, taking in every detail, every inch of him. It was like a fantasy brought to life, and you could hardly believe this was really happening.

"If you really want me, cyar'ika”, he said, his voice rough with desire, "you have me and I’ll give you everything you want. But first..."

He stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

"I want to see what I missed out on all those nights."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you nodded, your body trembling with anticipation.

"| want you," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips in a rush.

Hunter's smile widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

“Then you know what to do."

Your hand slid down between your legs again, fingers circling your clit as your eyes locked onto his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. You started to move your fingers, slow at first, building up the tension again, the pleasure, under his watchful eyes. His cock twitched, and you could see how hard he was holding himself back, waiting, watching, letting you take the lead. But you hoped, deep down, that he wouldn't be able to resist for long.

You continued to fuck yourself on your fingers, the sensation of your own touch heightened by the sight of Hunter in front of you. His cock was fully on display now, thick and hard, just as you'd imagined so many times. Your eyes were glued to it, watching as he wrapped his hand around the base and gave himself a few slow, deliberate pumps. The way he handled himself so confidently, so naturally, made your mouth water and your core clench with need.

All you could think about was how it would feel to have him inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. The thought alone made the coil in your core tighten deliciously, your body already teetering on the edge of release. Hunter seemed to sense how close you were. His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours, and his voice came out in a low, velvety command.

"Look at me, cyar'ika."

Your gaze snapped to his, and what you saw there was your undoing. His face was a mix of raw desire and something deeper, something almost tender. His cheeks were flushed, a warm color against his caramel skin, and his pupils were blown wide with lust, all of it for you. That look - hungry, wanting, and completely focused on you was all you needed to push yourself over the edge.

When the first wave of your orgasm hit, you let loose and moaned his name loudly, your body arching off the chair. The moment your release flooded through you, Hunter was there, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you into him. His lips found yours in a kiss that was both hungry and sweet, swallowing your moans as his hands roamed over your body, grounding you as you rode out your high.

His touch, his scent, the feel of his solid body pressed against yours - it was overwhelming, like floodgates had opened, and everything you'd been holding back rushed out all at once. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you gasped out the words that had been burning inside you for so long.

"I want you Hunter," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you."

Hunter's response was immediate, his voice a deep, soothing rumble against your ear. "You have me”, he said, his lips brushing against your skin. "you've always had me, cyar'ika. It's always been you."

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and you couldn't help the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. It was too much - too intense, too perfect - and yet, it was everything you'd ever wanted. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in, letting the reality of his words slowly sink in.

"…thought.." you struggled to find the right words, your voice catching in your throat. "I thought maybe you didn't notice...me, or didn’t want me."

Hunter pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softening.

"How could I not want you?" he said, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. "I noticed every look, every touch. I noticed how you made excuses to be near me, how you lingered in the room just a little longer after everyone else had gone. And then suddenly it felt like you were running away from me, avoiding me and it drove me crazy, because I didn’t know what to do."

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your shaking hands.

"Hunter... I don't think you realize what it's like to watch you from a distance. You walk into a room, and every head turns. People flirt with you -boldly, shamelessly- and you don't even flinch. Meanwhile, I thought I was just... invisible to you. Just part of the team. And I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze.

He chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"You think I don’t see the way other women look at me and sometimes men too? All the attention in bars, in the markets?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I noticed them all, but I didn't care. None of them were you. From the moment you were assigned to the squad, all I wanted was you."

His words hit you like a freight train, and you were left reeling from the intensity of his confession. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb tracing the lines of his tattoo.

“You remember the Jedi general we had with us for two missions shortly after you’ve been assigned to us?” he said.

“Did you notice how she looked at you? I always thought it’s not the jedi way but she quickly sensed how I felt for you and she was jealous.”

"Hunter..."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the feel of your hands on him. "I’m yours, cyar'ika," he murmured, opening his eyes to meet yours again. "And you can be mine. If thats what you want."

You pulled him into another kiss, your heart soaring at his words. It was everything you'd ever dreamed of and more. The man you'd been longing for, craving, was finally yours, and he wanted you just as badly. You deepened the kiss, pouring all your emotions into it, and you felt him respond equally, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched your own.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you shared a moment of quiet intimacy. It was a connection that went beyond just the physical - it was something deeper, something that had been building between you for so long. And now that it had finally been acknowledged, there was no turning back.

Hunter's hands slowly slid under your shirt, lifting it over your head.

"Let me see all of you”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

"Want to worship every inch of you."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you helped him get off your training bra. You were bare before him now, exposed and vulnerable, your nipples instantly hard, but there was no fear - only anticipation, only need.

He reached up to cup your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and you leaned back in to kiss him again. His tongue pleaded for access and you let him in, let him explore your mouth, his taste sweet and intoxicating. One hand tangled in his hair you let the other snake down his chest until you reached his cock, giving him a few lazy pumps, earning a few groans from him in return.

But just when you were ready to lose yourself completely in him, Hunter broke the kiss, pulling back slightly.

He looked down at you, his breathing ragged, his dark eyes full of desire and something else - something deeper, more meaningful.

"Wa…want to do this right," he said, his voice low and husky.

You blinked up at him, dazed and trembling with need, but his words made your heart stutter in your chest. He wasn't just looking for a quick release; he wanted this to mean something, to be something you would both remember.

Before you could say anything, he glanced quickly out of the viewport, checking to make sure Wrecker was still peacefully snoring outside. Satisfied, he turned back to you, and with a few quick taps on the console, you heard the soft hiss of the ramp closing.

The ship was now sealed, offering you the privacy you desperately needed.

Without another word, Hunter scooped you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest as he carried you to the bunk area. There was a determination in his movements, a focused intensity that only made you want him more. He set you down gently, then quickly began to rearrange the bunks, pulling two mattresses together and throwing a few blankets and cushions onto the floor to create a cozy, makeshift bed.

"Perfect," he murmured, almost to himself, before turning back to you.

His hands were on you again in an instant, pulling you down onto the mattress with him.

“When we're out of here, I’m going to take you some place nice …but for now this is all I can offer you”

“Hunter…I don’t need anything else, just you.”

He kissed you everywhere - your lips, your neck, your collarbone, working his way down to your breasts. His tongue was hot and wet as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Hunter," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you, it was like he was memorizing every inch of your body, committing it all to memory.

He let his head dip down between your legs, kissing and nibbling along your soft inner thighs until he reached your wet pussy and liked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You felt him shudder and you let out a soft whimper when he flicked his tongue against your swollen bud, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

"I've wanted this for so long," he growled against your skin, his voice thick with need. "Wanted you for so long."

You could only moan in response, arching your back as he positioned himself above you.

His cock was heavy and hot against your thigh, and when he dragged the tip through your soaked folds, your whole body trembled with anticipation. You were so wet for him, so ready, and the sensation of his cock teasing you, brushing against your clit before dipping back down to your entrance, was almost too much to bear. He bit your neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to leave a mark and to make you shiver with desire.

"Hunter, please," you whimpered, your hips bucking up, seeking more.

He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. He held you like that, firm but gentle, and his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding.

"Look at me," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "I want you to look at me when I take you”

You nodded, your breath hitching as he slowly began to push into you. The stretch was delicious, the feeling of him finally filling you was overwhelming. Your eyes never left his, the connection between you electric.

As he sank deeper into you, his eyes never wavered from yours, and you could see the raw emotion there - the desire, yes, but also something more, something that made your heart ache with its intensity.

"Maker" he groaned, his voice strained as he bottomed out inside you. "You feel so good, cyar’ika. Better than I ever imagined."

You clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to hold on, your body adjusting to the fullness of him, reveling in the feeling you had yearned for far too long.

"Hunter,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with the depth of your need for him.

"Move, please."

And then he did, pulling back slowly before thrusting back in, and it was like nothing you'd ever felt before.

The pleasure was overwhelming, all consuming, and you couldn't help the way your body arched up into his, seeking more, wanting more. You were intoxicated from a heady mix of chemicals and hormones your own body produced and you couldn’t get enough of.

He watched you the whole time, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could see the way he was fighting to keep control, to hold back from losing himself completely in you.

"Say you’re mine" he gasped.

You moaned, your hands clutching at him, needing to feel every inch of him, to be as close to him as possible. You angled your hips to allow him to reach deeper.

"I'm yours, Hunter. Always yours."

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more forceful, and you could feel yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the coil in your core tightening with every movement of his hips. He reached down where your bodies were joined and began to circle your clit.

"Come for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

And with those words, you were gone, your body shattering as your orgasm crashed over you, your walls desperately clenching around him. Hunter's thrusts became frantic as he neared his release, his breath ragged in your ear.

"Where do you want me?" he asked, his voice low and desperate, teetering on the edge. His eyes searched yours, filled with lust and need.

"Inside”, you whispered, breathless, and the moment the word left your lips, it was like something snapped within him.

His body reacted instantly, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He pushed as deep into you as he could, burying himself completely, ensuring he was filling you in the most intimate way possible.

The warmth of his release surged inside you, and you gasped at the overwhelming sensation. His cock pulsed, each wave of his cum shooting against your cervix, sending electric shivers through your entire being. You clung to him, trembling as your walls tightened around him, pulling him in further, savoring every last drop he spilled inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you, holding you tight like he never wanted to let go. You felt utterly filled, connected, the sensation of his heat mixing with the deep satisfaction of having him this close. The world had narrowed down, leaving only the two of you.

Hunter's lips found yours again, soft and lingering, filled with a quiet happiness that made your heart swell. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath mixing with yours in the peaceful aftermath. You smiled at him, your fingers tracing light patterns on his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to the tip of your nose.

His cock slowly softened and slipped out of you, leaving a tender warmth in its wake. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of your shared breaths as you remained close, tangled together in the afterglow.

He glanced down between your bodies, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched his cum begin to ooze out of you. Without a word, he gently took two fingers, gathering it and pushing it back into you with a quiet hum of appreciation.

You giggled at his playful possessiveness, your body shivering at the intimate sensation of his fingers moving inside you, even after everything you'd just shared. The sound of your laughter made his grin widen, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest.

Hunter's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin as he whispered,

"I love you, cyar'ika. More than anything."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into his touch, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

"I love you too, Hunter," you replied softly, your voice full of emotion.

He smiled, his forehead resting against yours.

"I'm never letting you go," he promised, his voice low and filled with tenderness.

"Come on," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips again before he stood and scooped you up effortlessly into his arms.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you towards the fresher. He handled you with such care, his strong arms making you feel light as air.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.

You let out a contented sigh, feeling utterly safe in his embrace as he carried you into the fresher.

He carefully adjusted the water, making sure it was the perfect temperature before gently setting you into the warm stream.

"I'll clean up the ship real quickly," he said with a playful smirk, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Don't want to deal with an angry Tech later. I'Il be back in a moment, cyar'ika."

You nodded, leaning back against the wall of the fresher, the warmth of the water soothing your body as you watched him leave. A soft smile crept onto your face, feeling content in the peaceful aftermath. It all still felt like a fever dream, something your mind had come up with to cope with the burning desire that had slowly driven you crazy. If it wasn’t for the faint rustling of bedsheets you heard you might have believed you had fallen victim to your own imagination.

But Hunter returned moments later, true to his word, stepping back into the fresher with you. He pulled you into his arms, and kissed you, the water running over both of you as you melted into the moment once more, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

As you pulled back from the kiss, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm and steady. His eyes, filled with quiet intensity, searched yours.

"I'm sorry I didn't make a move earlier," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I've wanted you for so long... but I was afraid, afraid that you wouldn’t want me and what it meant for the squad. I love you so much, cyar'ika. More than you know."

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you gently cradled his face, your fingertips tracing the lines of his jaw.

"I love you too, Hunter," you whispered, your voice barely audible but heavy with meaning.

It was a confession you had been holding onto for so long, and now that it was finally spoken, it felt right-perfect. His lips curved into a small, tender smile, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

"I'll request your permanent assignment to the squad,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "If that's what you want. I might even try to fill out a report here and there."

The thought made you chuckle but without hesitation, you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I want that... more than anything."

Hunter kissed you again, slow and deep, pouring all the love and longing you had both been holding back into the kiss. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing gently over your sensitive skin. You gasped into his mouth, your body responding instantly to his touch, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both like a cocoon.

He pressed himself closer, and you could feel the hard length of him against your thigh, already ready for you again.

"I can't get enough of you, I’m sorry." he whispered, his voice husky with desire, his fingers teasing you, drawing out soft whimpers as your body burned with need for him all over again.

You sank slowly to your knees, your gaze never leaving his as your hands trailed down his body. Taking him into your mouth, you savored the feel of him - big, warm, heavy on your tongue and throbbing with need. His taste filled your senses, and the low, deep moan that escaped his lips sent a shiver through you. You traced the underside of his cock from the base to the tip, following a thick vein. He was incredibly hard, his tip already leaking and every contact made him twitch. Hunter's hand came to rest gently on the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he groaned softly, the sound making your pulse quicken. But after a few moments, he gently tugged you back up to your feet, his hands firm on your shoulders.

"Come here," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

He guided you toward the fresher wall, your back pressed against the cool durasteel, letting his hand trail lower, carefully stroking through your folds. You were very sensitive, his cum was still oozing out of you but your body betrayed you and you couldn’t stop the downright filthy moan from slipping from your lips.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” he rasped.

“N..no. Don’t stop…can’t get enough of you either.” you stammered as he dipped two fingers into your soaking wet pussy.

“P…please Hunter…fuck me again.”

His mouth found yours in a heated kiss as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, his cock deliciously pressing against your core. He paused, eyes locking with yours for a brief, intimate moment before he buried himself inside you in one deep thrust. You gasped, your body still sensitive, clenching hard around him immediately. The sensation of being so full, so close to him, was still overwhelming.

Hunter groaned deeply, the sound vibrating against your lips as he began to move, slow at first but quickly building into something more intense. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips meeting his with each thrust as he fucked you, hard and steady. The room spun around you, all of your senses focused solely on him, on the way he filled you, the way he made you feel. The coil in your core tightened rapidly, your pleasure rising to a peak you couldn't hold back any longer.

"Hunter," you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

He groaned, lowering his forehead to yours as he picked up the pace.

"I feel you, mesh'la," he murmured, his words shaky but full of intent. "So close, aren't you? Let me take you there."

His teeth grazed your lower lip, his body driving you closer to the brink with every thrust.

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, your nails raking down his back as the pressure inside you reached its breaking point. The position allowed him to thrust deep and he did, pushing up against your most sensitive spot.

That was all it took. With a final, powerful snap of his hips, you shattered into a million pieces, your body trembling as your orgasm washed over you. Hot white pleasure surged through your veins, pulling the rug of reality from under your feet and sending you spinning. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper as Hunter groaned your name, his release following yours. You felt him pulse inside you, his second release mixing with the first, filling you to the brim, as his head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin.

You stayed like this for a while, you held onto him tightly, both of you catching your breath, the connection between you deeper than ever. Your shallow pants and the falling water were the only sounds for a while. You nestled your head against his neck reveling in the warmth radiating from his body until his cock slowly softened and slipped out of you followed by a rush of his cum.

Hunter carefully set you down, your legs still trembling and unsteady beneath you. You giggled softly, leaning against the wall for support trying to come back to your senses.

"I think... I… we should probably give the ship back," you said, your voice a mix of exhaustion and amusement.

"The others are probably outside, waiting-and annoyed."

He chuckled, his hand brushing tenderly over your cheek.

"You're right. Shouldn’t keep the big guy waiting when he’s hungry," he teased, his eyes still full of warmth.

But then, his gaze softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

"One last moment," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and intimate, "just us.”

You melted into the kiss, your heart swelling with the closeness of the moment. Hunter's hands moved with careful precision as he lathered you both with soap and helped you clean up, his touch so gentle it made your chest ache with affection. Every small gesture spoke of his care for you, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling the love radiating between you.

After you both emerged from the refresher, Hunter grabbed a towel and gently dried you off, his hands lingering on your skin, pressing kisses here and there as if memorizing the feel of you. There was something tender in the way he handled you, a softness that made your heart swell. Once you were both dry, you reached for fresh clothes from the overhead compartments, dressing in a comfortable silence that was filled with glances, smiles, and the warmth of what you had just shared. Hunter gave you the softest, most loving kiss before he pressed the button to open the hatch.

You were immediately greeted by the sight of three familiar faces. Wrecker’s grin was as wide as ever, Tech looked slightly annoyed, and Crosshair... well, Crosshair had that usual smirk of his, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes too.

"Finally," Crosshair spat out, throwing the toothpick he had just dangled from the corner of his mouth to the floor, his voice dripping with his usual sarcasm.

Tech, ever the meticulous one, adjusted his goggles and said, "If what Crosshair suggested is true, I am pleased for the two of you, but I sincerely hope you cleaned up after yourselves."

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he strode up the ramp to inspect to ship, his ship, as he had made clear more than enough times.

Wrecker’s grin widened even further when you stepped out of the ship. “Does this mean you’re stayin’ with us for good?” he asked, his eyes shining with hope.

You nodded, and before you could say another word, Wrecker scooped you up in a massive bear hug, whirling you around with such enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but laugh.

Tech reemerged from the ship, seemingly satisfied with the state you had left the cockpit in. “Good,” he said, his tone crisp and professional. “I’m glad to see you took care of that. We brought back better food, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I’m starving” Wrecker said, setting you back down.

As they walked past you, Crosshair reached out to pat Hunter on the shoulder, his smirk turning into something more genuine.

"Don’t mess this up, Sarge," he said, his tone carrying a rare note of seriousness.

"Because if I have to hear her suffer again, listen to her desperate whimpers one more night... I’ll take care of it myself."

You couldn’t help but smile, knowing this was Crosshair's way of showing he cared. Beneath that tough exterior, there was a hint of concern and affection, even if it came out in his own twisted way. But as soon as the full meaning of what he’d just said found its way through your still foggy and cock drunken mind, you turned to Hunter with a question look, your cheeks hot and a perfect shade of pink.

Hunter just grinned.

“Nothing wakes Wrecker as soon as he’s snoring and Tech stays in the cockpit most nights, but yeah…Cross heard you.”

“More than once.”

You looked back into the ship where Crosshair had just disappeared. He gave you one of his signature smirks, clearly amused.

You groaned, your face burning as you turned and hid against Hunter’s chest, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Crosshair chuckled lowly, enjoying your reaction.

“You know, it’s not that embarrassing. At least you’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that.”

“Crosshair,” Hunter warned, but his hand moved to rub your back soothingly.

“What?” Crosshair smirked, his tone softening slightly. “At least Hunter finally did something about it, almost though he’d watch you leave. You’re good together. Just… maybe keep it private next time? For my sleeping schedule…and my sanity.”

You peeked out at him, mortified but catching the flicker of genuine affection in his gaze.

“You’re awful.”

“Maybe,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But you’re lucky I like you, or I’d never let you live this down.”

You sighed.

As Hunter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, pressing you into his chest, you couldn’t help but feel that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The easy camaraderie between the five of you made you feel like you were truly home.

[gffa]

Usually, I like to finish reading a fic before recommending it properly, but I've been sucked into about five different STAR WARS fics recently that I've gotten far enough into that I'm willing to trust my heart to them because they're scratching a very specific itch for me--namely, that I want deeper explorations of both the Jedi Order and of Anakin's character. I want fic to punch me in the feelings over both of these aspects of the story. I want fic to sometimes set Obi-Wan and Anakin aside and focus on Ahsoka for awhile, really tell her story. I want Jedi themes woven into a story. I want an exploration of Anakin's mindset that reminds me of just how much I love him and have sympathy for him. And fandom has delivered for me.

DO YOU WANT FIC TO BLACK OUT TO AND LOSE AN ENTIRE WEEKEND OVER? HAVE I GOT SOME RECS FOR YOU:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know.     This fic accomplishes several things that have sent me over the moon: 1) At its heart, it's an Ahsoka fic that shows her growing up as a Padawan, going on missions, learning lessons, and having character growth. 2) It weaves in so many other characters around her, that Mace is there in almost every chapter, serious but warm in the Force, just as beautifully characterized as she is. 3) The other Jedi get their moments of excellents, Shaak taking Ahsoka on her Akul hunt was wonder to read, seeing Obi-Wan show up for a chapter had me over the moon, Adi taking care with Ahsoka was lovely, Depa was a shining star when she took Ahsoka under her wing, Fox growing used to these strange Jedi and growing into himself through Ahsoka's eyes was wonderful. 4) The writing is that kind of solid that I don't mean as mid-tier, but the kind that I feel like can bear weight on it, I can pick it up and read for 30k and barely realize any time has passed, despite that I've gotten through an entire arc of the fic. 5) It does an incredible job of balancing that feel of The Clone Wars show, without directly copying anything, that it's like these are arcs that I could have seen on the show itself, the lessons woven in, but still with enough plot moving forward and action to make it exciting. If you want more Jedi-centric fic in your life (where they don't have to be perfect! sometimes they can be less than perfect and it's okay because they're still good! ohhhh, my heart warmed at that) or you want to read a lovely Ahsoka-centric fic in a different life, but still so recognizably herself, then this is one I want to shove right in your face immediately.

✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 116.k wip     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right?     I got sucked into the first fic in this series (which is complete, if you want to read it--it's not the end of the story, but it's a good stopping point and feels like it should have some solid resolution if you don't want to get into a wip) and read the first fic over the course of about three days because I was sucked in so thoroughly. I can never get enough of Obi-Wan time traveling back to the past, where he loves the Jedi and they love him, and I love this one because he has to make genuine plans for changing things--things change and I have no idea how that's going to affect Palpatine's machinations! Exciting! But it's also a lovely look at Obi-Wan's dynamics with multiple characters--I found the Obi-Wan & Padme scenes a hightlight personally, their friendship really blossomed as they both flung themselves into trying to better the galaxy, even if she doesn't know he's from the future, that he's working so hard matched a lot of her energy and I really enjoyed that--from Qui-Gon to Mace to Padme to Anakin and, as the sequel progresses, Dooku as well. It's another Jedi-positive fic, it has me invested in the plot, it's a joy to see competent!Obi-Wan, and I would love to shove it at more people.

✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin, 46k (wip-esque)     After a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along.     This is probably the shortest fic on this list but I'm including it because it genuinely felt longer than that, for how dense the emotional intensity of it is. It's an AU where the Jedi barely eked out a victory, still on the edge of extinction in many ways, and Anakin deep in the pits of the dark side, so Obi-Wan takes him to a backwater planet in exile for the both of them, traveling through the countryside and just trying to make it from day to day. What punched me right in the feelings place is that this fic doesn't shy away from the hurt and the anger on both sides, that both of them are allowed to be unreliable narrators that have their own points of view on what's transpired and what lays between them. It doesn't back away from the hurt they both feel, the despair they both feel, yet there's hope here. It's ultimately a story about clawing yourself back from the dark side, and it's beautifully characterized for both of them, that unkind things are said on both of their parts, but you understand why the characters are in the place they are. It's wrapped up in a lushly written backdrop, with some lovely Japanese feudal era details woven in, but also with a Star Wars patina spread across all of it. It's not necessarily a kind fic, but if you like fic that bites down on a wound, I enjoyed this series a lot and would love to see it continued--but, honestly, what's here is already enough resolution that, looking back on it after the initial "Noooooo, I need more!" feeling has faded, I'm actually very satisfied with. ✦ Men of Power by AlabasterInk, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & jedi & palpatine & cast, 86.1k wip     When an old powerful man suddenly comes in and sweeps your underage Padawan away without so much as a by your leave, that’s the time to start asking questions.     I'm only about 20k into this fic, so I can't say what shape it will take later on or how much pairings might come into it, but I still had to come running over to shove this fic at people, because it's scratching the itch I have for Jedi-positive fic that explores the idea of Anakin's trauma from his childhood as a slave, that this is a child who is wound so tight and comes from such a horrible thing having been done to him, having been owned as a person, that I understand why he stays silent on some of the things I desperately wish he could talk about or he doesn't really believe some of the things the Jedi tell him. It's a fic that takes a lot more care with Anakin's character than I think canon ever intended, weaving in a lot of the heartbreaking stuff from Legends' supplementing the canon, and is creating something that punches me right in the feelings place for him, that he's such a bright, brilliant boy, but I see why he struggled and it's not about assigning blame in any direction. It's about deeply caring people who fate has take a few steps to the left and something shifts just a little--and I appreciate that there's something very delicate feeling here, that the Jedi just don't have any real reason to be suspicious of Palpatine, his actions make sense, they genuinely can't feel any ill intention from him in the Force, they discuss why it would make sense that he'd want to support Anakin, all while we the readers can see, in hindsight, where the shadows have been creeping in. If you want Jedi-positive fic that also leaves some teeth marks over Anakin's trauma being explored in a way that is entirely sympathetic to him, then I want to shove this fic at you, too.

[eobe]

You are reborn into the Star Wars universe, in a time, place, and family of your choosing. You retain all of your knowledge of canon events, and could change their outcome if you so chose. What do you do?

an unforeseen writing escalation. If you‘ve been tagged and don’t want to read – ignore 😂🫶

Oh kriff, what did I do to deserve that.

That’s what I asked myself, CT-1618, since I got fragment by fragment of the memories of my former life on a strange planet in a galaxy that far away, that my soul travelled not only through space, but also through time.

And Maker, this is kark. If I don‘t want to be decommissioned by first chance, I had to keep my mouth shut and my head down. If I had to speak, then well-considered. The silent, broody cadet with the ongoing frown and the crossed arms, that was me.

I almost enjoyed everyone getting calm and my clone brothers‘ full attention when I finally had something to say. So time came to use that for a greater good.

Down in the barracks after curfew I hesitated over-notable to make my batch vode curious and then I started cautiously asking them what they think about „The Mission“ – the one of our nightmares.

Either I had luck or it was easier than I thought to get them started to think individually. I recognized my chance to change things with patience, if I manage to spread some tiny well placed seeds without getting caught – and to get some tiny well placed stones into rolling.

Even as a single clone trooper I could try to find evidence. I only needed skills to get my chance, so I specialized on coding and data decryption and also spread cautiously word about my interests and achievements to get support from my superiors. It worked – I got qualified for ARC training.

I also noticed the rumor about „The Mission“ being not only a strange clone thing but something possibly dangerous made the round, also some more triggers I set, like that we‘re more than just numbers.

I asked my trusted vode to tell me if they heard news about the rumors other clones maybe whispering behind hands about things I started. I always had only one back question: „Did they mention me?“ Luckily never. My brothers mocked me being that nervous. „Vod, calm down. Source unknown as always.“

I felt a little hope the first time a stranger clone in the 79s chatted with me and after some time and drinks he hesitated with a calculating glance and asked with lowered voice what I think of those rumors about „The Mission“ – that one from our nightmares. I couldn’t hold back a small chuckle but answered well-considered as usual.

I collected and encrypted every data I could find, also tracking the reports of the 501st to stay tuned. Did little hacking attacks and got better. Being a silent and specialized ARC trooper in the 41st Elite Corps allowed me to broaden my network, but my connections and attempts to get through the security walls of Serenno for the chips‘ data went dangerously wrong.

My closest vode shivered with me as we heard talking our superiors about Serenno being cyber attacked – from our position. Kark, the seppies seem to have a new specialist.

„Do we know the source?“ My batch brother Forest asked – perfectly hiding that he knows the source better than he liked in this moment.

They didn‘t find the source. But I found something.

__

„Name and number, trooper!“

Done. The day and the moment had come and I was absolutely done, but I might have now the tiniest and silliest chance to change a really big event in the timeline!

I had lurked in the 79s, looking for some blue markings on armor to grab myself some key figures, but I had to run into the Marshal Commander of Coruscant himself. Literally.

And spilled his caf all over his spotless armor.

Kriff, maybe I was only done, but I have to try my luck for the sake of the whole karking galaxy.

„ARC-1618! Name‘s Source, Sir and I‘m incredibly sorry, Sir…“ I rambled? knowing that not only my own poor life depends on.

The first time in my life I babbled like the most talkative brother of my Squad (named Text, no kidding) and it was important to do so and to make it right – I had a plan that requires proper acting.

I had absolutely no problem to show my sweating nervousness and shrinked under the seething glare of the elder clone and finally sweared, that I‘ll spend him a caf every time when I see him – Pause for effect and dramatic gasp (for this one I imagined my big brother Voice the one time the bulky clone actually got unsettled) – then I widened my eyes like in shock, like realizing what I just said and I froze my body like prey that got caught and hoped that I just had managed my masterpiece.

And Dank Farrik, it worked. I knew that I had won in the very moment that I saw a slightly mad glint lighten up in the furious eyes of Coruscant‘s head and an actually scary grin showing the canine teeth, all the older and greying Commanders seem to share.

My heart and my brain were racing on my way to order the maybe most important caf in the whole galaxy and as I sat down at the table with the waiting Commander, who tried to hide his amusement I had the feeling that I truly got a chance now.

So I started to track the schedules and reports of the Coruscant Guard and „stumbled“ over Commander Fox as often as possible, without making the tired but sly man suspicious. We fastly got into really good caf talks and so one day I dared my luck, making the older clone curious with showing in a matter of fact truly undecided and hesitating.

l leaned a bit over the table, shooting a short look left and right and asked with lowered voice „Sir… may I ask you a question? I heared rumors and maybe the Marshal Commander is able to clear that.“

Fox raised an eyebrow with an asking glance.

I took a deep breath.

„What do you think about… The Mission? You know, the one of our nightmares.“

Great, I escalated 🙈 Thank you for the inspiration, dearest Anon. I‘m not a writer, I have a writing blockade for more than half of my life, but suddenly one of my unintroduced OCs took over… 🤷🏽‍♀️

Yeah, I hope you have fun with a non-mother tongue, non beta-read, non-writer‘s spontaneous writing 😂🫶

@foxwithadarkside Look, who‘s gone AWOL 😁

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf Does this count for an OC showcase?

Chaos Squad, you might recognize some names 😎 @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @ghostymarni

Taglist, I apologize for my attempt to override my current art blockade with a pathetic try to draw something with words: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit @freesia-writes

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

[ghost-bxrd]

Hi!

Kinda on a 'Jason's Red Hood Return Goes Hilariously Off The Rails' phase.

Read practically everything on AO3 with the trope, now writing my own.

Got two ideas.

Dick gets de-aged to 8 year old feral Robin and is in the Tower instead of Tim, Jason's Titans Tower attack goes waaaaay off what he planned.

Jason commenting on Tim's Batman fanfic, and the resulting comment war (with other Gothamites chiming in) leads to Jason hashing out most of his issues, derailing the whole Red Hood Revenge Run.

What do you think would be other hilarious/cracky/awesome ways for Jason's Red Hood return to go off the rails and have him come back home?

P.S. I'm going with Fanon Good(ish) Dad Bruce, not the Canon version.

First of all I love the second idea! I’ve never read anything like it before ✨

Honestly there are so many ways you can have Jason’s plans go off track somewhere along the way. Personally I’m a fan of having him run into one of the family while he’s grocery shopping or something in civilian gear, and obviously they recognize him. So now Jason has the option of either running and letting them assume stuff on their own, or he can come up with a harebrained excuse (amnesia, clone, etc). ((I also love the trope of Bruce not even checking if it’s really Jason. If this is a clone, he doesn’t want to know. Nobody’s taking Jason from him ever again)).

Another fun way would be for him to have that really hardcore “I want my dad” moment. Could be he’s sick, or concussed, or just otherwise really out of it. And he calls either Dick or Bruce on autopilot because— “I want to go home. Please. I just want to go home.” And whoever is on the other side of the call has several heart attacks while also trying to keep Jason talking, trying to track the location. Because— it could be a hallucination, a trick, anything, but— but what if it isn’t—…

Or, good old “one of the Bats is held hostage by a rogue” but it’s totally a planned thing. And obviously Jason doesn’t know about it so he drops in, pissed as all hell but not willing to let any of them die, and freeing them. Which is… very much not what that Bat had planned, but for whatever reason the murderous crime lord is now fussing over them? Better play along and keep pretending to be drugged…

Those are some things that came to mind :)

[marvelstars]

Anakin and Slavers

"His undoing is that he loveth too much"

George Lucas

One thing that I always liked about George´s work in relation to Anakin and slavery is how out of the left field he and Dave Filoni wrote Anakin´s relationship to the people who owned or saw him as a property at one point or another and yet it makes total sense for his character.

For example kid Anakin has no doubt that Slavery is horrible and at 9 he is actually working towards developing technology to help free his Mom, friends and himself from it. He hates with capital H the fact those people have control over the life and death of other people but at the same time he has great compassion and kindness which his mother helped nurture. This along with the fact that Watto was the only adult male figure who was around during his early chilldhood, this complicated his feelings towards slavers in a very tragic way.

Anakin feared Watto´s violence and didn´t for a moment doubt he would have been willing to sell off his mother or him if the customer got to a big enough price but at the same time he listens to his advice when he travels to the dune sea to do his work with the jawas and his pov is almost as important as his Mom´s, in the novelization of TPM Anakin remembers not to talk to strangers or to get close to Tuskens Raiders camps thanks to Watto´s advice.

So in Anakin´s mind, Watto is someone he fears but also someone he takes advice from, respects to a point, sometimes gets sassy to and actually listens to almost as a father figure BUT at the same time he has no doubt he would activate the killing chip if he tried to escape.

Pain/abuse/fear mixed with care/advice(sounds familiar?) Anakin knows slavery is awful but he can´t help but see Watto as a person because of who Anakin is, Annie is a kind and understanding person and to point may justify Watto as a "Man of bussines" and "Not as bad a other masters" "It could be worse" but he definitely doesn´t trust him in the same way he does his mother, she is blood, she is family. He and Mom are a team.They shared their secrets.

The first time Anakin saw Watto again after being freed, he was a Jedi with training, almost a knight and the first thing he does to the guy who beat him and his Mom some years ago is to ask him if he can help with the ship parts Watto is working on because he noticed Watto is struggling and his bussines is falling down compared to how it was when Anakin was a kid. When Watto noticed who Anakin was he didn´t reject him and accepted his congratulations but keep himself appart, hoping to learn about his mother whereabouts.

When Watto told Anakin he sold Shmi, Anakin doesn´t have a reaction, he takes Watto´s justification of "I am sorry Ani but bussines are bussines and anyway the person who bought her freed her and married her" Anakin doubts it´s as good a picture as Watto is talking about but he takes his justification and leaves.

When he meets Owen, Beru and Cliegg he sees they are indeed nice people and the reason for his mothers suffering is something completely different that they were not able to stop so he doesn´t blame them for her fate. When Anakin lost his mother it was only natural for him to seek a family, someone he could share how he really felt and his secrets, he could not be part of the Lars family but Padme was willing to love him so she became his new confirmed family, right along with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka but while he had to show himself different to them, he didn´t had to do that with Padme, just like he did with his mother.

In the clone wars Anakin shows again this complex view of slavers with Queen Miraj Scintel, the cartoon goes out of it´s way to show she looked at him as pretty property and he didn´t let her forget that and actually it was strongly suggested he may have been raped by her at some point to keep safe Obi-Wan, Rex, Ahsoka as well as the people they wanted to save while he got enough soldiers to stage their rescue. Anakin had a plan the whole time just as he did as a kid so he keep his cool even when he saw another slave choose suicide over keep being under the control of Scintel. Yet in the end when the Queen was killed by Count Dooku Anakin felt sorry for her, he could not help it.

So this mix of rejection/anger/hate/disgust towards slavers mixed with pity/understanding which is something that was part of what made Anakin a good person gets used agaisn´t him in his relationship with Palpatine.

He first shows himself as the father figure Anakin thought he could find in Qui-Gon before he died a better father figure than Watto had been, a father figure that didn´t reject this title like ObiWan did, Palpatine did this to get his trust as a young child and later young adult and then he showed himself as the real sith master he actually was, Palpatine knew that Anakin wasn´t a stranger to be treated as property by people who showed themselves as good advicers or somehow not as bad as others despite their actions. So Anakin´s initial compassion, kindness and understanding for people that abused him is played agaisn´t him to make him fall to the darkside and chain himself again to another worse master who didn´t just seek to use his skills and body but who wanted his soul as well.

And the same reasons why Anakin justified Watto at first when he was a young kid also applied to Palpatine, he may be a sith but he ran the Republic better than those corrupt politicians, he isn´t a perfect Emperor but in Padme´s absence he is better than the alternatives. He isn´t as bad as a master and anyway I deserve this because I fell to the darkside and nobody can come back from that, if he abuses me I got this coming because I choose this and he still teaches me the ways of the force, he rescued me from Mustafar when Obi-Wan left me to die and he didn´t have to, he is all I have left.

So once Anakin´s voice died down Vader was left with many reasons to say to Palpatine "What´s your bidding my master?" because in his mind master isn´t a word that contradicts father and Palpatine became his father in all but name, this makes George´s words about Anakin fatal flaw being the fact he loved too much make complete sense and it´s a tragedy.

[niobiumao3]

Anyways, here are some random tidbits I swear I'm not actually writing this except maybe I am who knows anyways...

At the time she convinced herself it couldn't be him. They'd killed any clones whose chips hadn't activated. So it was just her imagination, a desperate attempt to find any excuse to cling to the hope he'd survived, as she had, probably for similar reasons: pure, stubborn refusal to let the Empire win.

***

Later she would accept that she'd known it was him from the moment she saw him standing in the line up. Not because she could see his face--they were all helmeted and wearing identical, dusky black armor--but because she'd have known him anywhere by stance and posture alone. They'd not fought side by side in the war for over three years for her to forget him, any of them really but especially not him.

But won they had. Memories of her life before the Inquisitorious were fragments, seemed more like dreams described by a different person. A wild young Jedi and her squadron of variant clones. It sounded like a children's story, in some ways was less painful to tell herself that's all it was. Otherwise--

"Your assigned operative will be CX-2."

The Grand Inquisitor's voice drew Fifth Sister back to the present. Though the armor the clones wore was all identical, not all of them were the same size. The one they'd stopped in front of was taller than average, shoulders broader. This was important somehow. (Another way she knew it was him.)

Fifth Sister looked the operative up and down. His hands were clasped behind his back like the others, and he stood perfectly still. This wasn't the stillness of rest: he was poised, ready, waiting. A knocked arrow.

"CX-2," she said, and the operative nodded an acknowledgement. She looked askance at the Grand Inquisitor. He and his own operative--CX-1, a shorter clone with a broad chest--were watching the two of them intently.

"How do I refer to him?"

"Operative should be sufficient," the Grand Inquisitor said. Fifth Sister made a face.

"Won't that be confusing if multiple of us are assigned to the same mission?"

The Grand Inquisitor shrugged. "You can use the designation in such cases."

She fought down a sigh, considered the operative in front of her. He gave the distinct impression he wasn't looking at her, which annoyed her for some unfathomable reason. Why should she care if he paid attention to her, as long as he followed orders?

The Grand Inquisitor held out a hand to his operative, who gave him a datarod. "Your first mission is to intercept a shipment of cargo bound for []." He offered her the datarod. Fifth Sister took it, eyes narrowed.

"Cargo," she echoed. The Grand Inquisitor arched an eyebrow at her.

She considered his expression. There was only one kind of 'cargo' with which the Inquisitorious concerned itself. "Force-users."

"Very good," he said. But he was still waiting. Which meant...

"Potentials."

The operative in front of her said, "Younglings."

It almost startled her to hear him speak. His voice was modulated, rendering it garbled and rough. And he'd just corrected her.

"Potentials are by necessity young," she said, voice sharp.

Either be didn't notice, or didn't care, because he said, "Not always. You were not."

Probably sensing the fury swirling into being within her, the Grand Inquisitor said, "Quite right, CX-2. However, that was only to found the Inquisitorious. From this point forward our potentials will be younglings."

The operative's head tilted for a moment, then he nodded. Fifth Sister took the time given by this interruption to reign in her anger. Killing her operative for the high crime of being precise wouldn't go over well with her superior.

The Grand Inquisitor continued, "You have three standard rotations. Report in if you require assistance or if the mission exceeds these parameters."

Fifth Sister nodded, jerked her head at the operative and strode towards the hangar deck. He was tall enough she had no hope of outpacing him without use of the Force, another minor irritation.

After a minute or so she realized he was careful to keep his distance behind her precise, even if she slowed down. He never allowed himself to be in front of her. In her way.

"It's going to be hard to address you if you're always behind me."

"I can hear you perfectly fine from this position."

"But you can't see my face. My expression."

"I am unclear on how that is useful."

"Depending on the situation I'm not always going to be able to say what I mean."

"I am more than intelligent enough to intuit such instances."

"*Really* . So this isn't just an excuse to get a good look?"

Confusion rippled around him in the Force. "At what?"

She sighed, shook her head. "Nevermind."

***

"It would be best if we--"

She tied off the bandage with a sharp yank, causing him to fall silence with a grunt. Between cleanup around the other gash, she said, "If you're about to suggest something *idiotic* like I should leave you here so I can return the [] and then come back for you? You can keep that shit to yourself."

Her voice was sharp and even, the way it was when she was well and truly angry. Yet unlike in those moments, when he sometimes thought he could feel the Force rising around her, aiming to strike down her enemy, there was something else hovering around her. Tenuous, wavering. Brittle.

"I was not going to recommend you return for me."

She made a frustrated sound, looked away. "You really think I should leave you hear for the sake of some--some fucking *missives*. We don't even know if they'll be useful."

"They are vital to the mission."

She started to say something, stopped. A sensation ripplied through him almost like fear. Almost. He didn't know what she'd been about to say, except some part of him *did* know, knew it was something they couldn't come back from. Best to not give voice to it, make it real.

She licked her lips. "I'm not likely to get out of here without you anyways."

"That is untrue." He took up his datapad, winced as the bandage on his side pulled. He took a moment to catch his breath, brought up the schematics. "There is a route here which will be possible for you to use. Together we would likely be seen or caught, but on your own it--"

"Not an option."

He held in a sigh. No one could move her when she dug in her heels like this, save the Grand Inquisitor, sometimes Fourth Sister. "If you are not back in one rotation they will depart without you. Those were the mission parameters."

"Then we find our way back on our own."

"My injuries are such that leaving this planet without the asistance of Imperial resources will be extremely difficult, if not simply--"

The medkit next to him rattled, the lantern jostled. He fell silent, waited and watched as she struggled her eyes shut, one hand formed into a fist so tight her nails would have drawn blood from her palm if not for her gloves.

The tremor abated. "I am not. Leaving you here. And that is *final*."

He sighed, considered his datapad again. In the corner of his eye he noted a hairline fracture in the lantern's shroud. "In that case."

[captn-trex]

— kandam'aira hynzir

I commissioned this amazing piece of my OC Kan from the wonderfully talented @amalthiaph !! thank you endlessly for bringing her to life like this, she's absolutely gorgeous <3

I realised that info on her backstory got lost to the ages when I impulsively deleted my side blog, so now is as good a time as any to drop it here! (under the cut)

this is Kan's backstory leading up to her meeting Echo in technical devotion. some of these things come up in the story as Echo finds out about them, but it's not necessary for the reader to find out that way (aka, this has spoilers but I don't care if you don't care). tw: torture

—childhood & before the war

As a child Kan was always interested in working with technology. She was an only child and lived with her parents in a small village on the planet of their people, Mirial. Kan's parents were young when they had her, and were very loving, though they didn't spoil her. Instead they instilled in her the value of selflessness and taught her to always help people where possible. Her mother was an archaeologist of sorts, and spent much of her time researching and writing papers on rooting the truth to the myths of sites that were believed to be affected by divine intervention. Her father owned a small repair shop that tended to anything from ship repairs to cybernetics.

With Mirial being located on a hyperspace route, Kan's father's repair shop garnered attention from the wider galaxy, and Kan got to meet all different sorts of people, fuelling her desire to explore the galaxy herself. Kan undertook many small technological projects throughout her childhood, but her biggest undertaking happened when her mother lost her leg below the knee after a tunnel collapsed in on her during an archaeological dig. Kan and her father constructed a cybernetic for her when she was just thirteen, and that's when Kan knew that she wanted to pursue engineering.

When Kan turned 17, she left home to do exactly that. She lived on the ship that she and her father had been building for a number of years, and travelled around doing repairs and any other technological gigs she could find. She enjoyed her time doing this, but she really desired to do more, and help people in a more meaningful way.

—the 41st elite corps

Shortly after the clone war broke out, Kan got into a bit of trouble when she was caught in the Separatist occupation of Ryloth. She was running away from a battalion of droids, and was cornered when Master Luminara Unduli singlehandedly defeated the droids to save her. Kan thanked her and offered her services to her as repayment for saving her life. The Mirialan Jedi felt a kinship with Kan due to their shared origins, and what started out as one job turned into a partnership that stretched the length of the war. Kan began working as an engineer, but was also trained as a field medic when her presence was questioned by a number of the members of the jedi council. She became close with a lieutenant in the 41st named Spider, who took her under his wing and looked after her as much as she would allow, as she was still quite young and had very little experience of war and the galaxy at large.

Over the course of the war, Kan gradually earned her face tattoos, tallying up important moments. She got the central diamond first, and the more lives she saved and technological developments she made for the republic, the more she got, stretching outward across her cheeks. During a particularly gruelling campaign on Felucia, which had many casualties, Kan was captured by the Separatists. She was held prisoner and her captors were insisting that she was Master Unduli's padawan. They questioned, and eventually tortured her for information about Unduli's battle strategy, but she resisted. She was rescued and sent to recuperate from the chemical burn injuries she sustained across her shoulders and collarbone, which is where she briefly met Fives. He was suffering from his own injuries, and grieving the recent death of his brother.

Kan continued to work with Master Unduli up until the end of the war. She was on Kashyyyk with her when order 66 was given, and when she tried to interfere, confused at the clones' sudden shift in behaviour, the clones turned on her too. She narrowly escaped death at the hands of her good friend Spider, and went into hiding.

—post-order 66

Kan returned to travelling around and doing repairs, though it was hard to stay off of the Empire's radar. Eventually, someone replied to a distress signal that she had put out immediately after the events of order 66, and offered her safety from the Empire. She then worked as a mechanic in a workshop on Alderaan, under the protection of Senator Bail Organa. For a while, Kan struggled to come to terms with how the war ended, and came to dislike her tattoos because they served as an obvious reminder that her efforts and the efforts of the clones around her were all for nought.

While visiting the planet, Organa urged Senator Riyo Chuchi to speak with Kan, and that's where she first learned of the clone underground. She was immediately eager to help them, after working with clones so closely before, and partly with the hopes of reuniting with some of her friends from the war.

p.s. final chapter out sunday !! sorry it's taken so long, I've been in a bit of a creative rut tbh, but this last one will hopefully be a nice final hurrah :)

[kitkatt0430]

Star Wars Rebels fanfic idea keeps spinning in the back of my head, so I may wind up writing something for that eventually.

The idea?

After the Seige of Lasan turned into a massacre, in canon Kallus basically doubles down on believing in the Empire because he has to or else his self image of himself as a good, honorable man falls apart. But his feelings of guilt over it were what let Zeb get through to him years later and accidentally knock over the dominoes that directly led to Kallus becoming Fulcrum.

So what if he had his crisis of conscience earlier. In the wake of the massacre of Lasan, Kallus starts asking questions and he learns this is far from the first genocide the Empire had perpetrated since it's inception. It was, arguably, founded on genocide - the Jedi, the Clone Troopers, the Kaminoans, the Caamasi, and several others. All within the first year of the Empire's founding. The more he digs, the more he finds, and while he doesn't trust the Rebellion because a.) it's a bunch of disparate groups at the moment and b.) Saw Gerrera's treatment of his platoon at Onderon was incredibly fucked up... he knows he has to do something.

Fast forward to the start of the Rebels canon. There's significantly more sympathy to the Rebellion and there are more rebel cells out there, some that have already been forming alliances between sectors though the tendency towards insular thinking is still hampering the creation of a wider Rebel Alliance. The increased Rebel sympathies, even within the Imperial Navy itself, is in part due to an enigmatic broadcast that hijacks Imperial frequencies and civilian frequencies alike. Calling itself the Genocide Report, it has inundated the Empire with top secret details of the decisions behind countless genocides. Notable exceptions being some of the ones that happened in the first year of the Empire's rise. Presumably because so many details, and thus actual proof, has been lost.

The Imperial propoganda machine works hard to dismiss the Genocide Watch as nothing more than conspiracy theories and lies, but the more it reports... and the more those reports can be verified, the more people believe in the facts it presents. It is a major thorn in the Empire's side.

Many Imperial Agents have tried to track down the person - or persons, most believe there's a rebel cell or network of cells behind the propaganda - behind the Genocide Watch. Including Agent Kallus. But, of course, none have succeeded and eventually all get reassigned elsewhere.

And of course the reason no one has found the network behind the Genocide Watch is because it's actually two people. Alexsandr Kallus and a hacker he recruited. Alex finds the information and creates the broadcast information. Formats it in a way to make it both easy to understand while still presenting the facts, then passes it on to his hacker contact who then disseminates the information on their own schedule.

He's gotten away with it for so long that he's honestly shocked he hasn't been caught yet and he's still trying to get info on the Jedi massacre as his final report before he gets the hell out of the Empire and either finally joins a rebel cell (if any would take an ex-Imperial like him) or get somewhere far, far out of the way in the Outer Rim.

Which is what's going on with him when he's sent out to the Lothal sector and comes into contact with the Ghost's crew... right as Kanan reveals himself as a Jedi and takes Ezra as his padawan. This brings in the Inquisitors and Darth Vader, giving Kallus the excuse he needs to request access to the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant in order to gather information on Kanan Jarrus' past... and thus putting him in position of identifying both Darth Vader's true identity and answering the biggest unknown of the Clone Wars - who was the Sith Lord behind both sides of the conflict?

It'd weave in and out of canon - I really like the idea of Kanan finding out Kallus isn't exactly a loyal officer when Kallus kills an Inquisitor to stop Kanan from being tortured. Whether that would actually work in the actual fic (if it ever gets written)... who knows? But the main thrust of the story would be Kallus finally getting close to the answers to questions he started asking after Lasan, yet at the same time his position is getting increasingly precarious as his sympathies to the Ghost's crew continues to grow to the point he's taking risks for them he knows he shouldn't. Not if he wants to keep suspicion off himself and protect the hacker half of the Genocide Report.

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

Any time Anakin's "obsession" with Obi-Wan shows up in the story, it's very clearly a bad thing, because Anakin's "obsession" is a bad thing, full stop, regardless of who he's aiming it at. To use Star Wars parlance, this is the attachment, this is why the Jedi forbid it and why attachments are considered bad on their own and why they're not considered the same as "love" or "relationships." So Anakin being attached to Obi-Wan INSTEAD of Padme (which doesn't have to mean they're in a romantic relationship, obviously) doesn't make that attachment suddenly a good thing simply because it isn't romantic. It would still be dangerous and it would still likely push Anakin to do bad things in the name of the attachment.

That being said, Anakin shows the MOST restraint in his relationship with Obi-Wan, despite the clear attachment he does have to him. I'm willing to believe that Palpatine likely did ENCOURAGE an attachment to Obi-Wan while at the same time also planting the seeds for doubt in the relationship, balancing those things very carefully so that he could use Obi-Wan to pull Anakin into darkness. But the very VERY few times we see Anakin successfully manage to actually hold off from making rash and reckless choices is with his relationship to Obi-Wan.

I've mentioned most of these examples before, but I'll go over them quickly again.

Chronologically, we start with Attack of the Clones where Anakin is initially inclined NOT to go to Geonosis to save Obi-Wan until Padme convinces him into it (while you could argue that this shows a lack of CARE for Obi-Wan, this isn't really supported by the dialogue and it's contrasted pretty explicitly with Anakin planning to abandon Padme earlier in order to chase after his mother).

The next one we see is in Landing at Point Rain during TCW when Obi-Wan's ship crashes and it's unclear what Obi-Wan's status is and Anakin has to make the choice to stay with his men and leave Obi-Wan to his chances rather than run ahead and abandon his men just for the CHANCE to help Obi-Wan (especially when Obi-Wan could easily be already dead, or could die/receive help from someone else before Anakin can get there, while his men will almost certainly die without him before they can reach the landing zone and that would be pretty disastrous for the mission).

The third one is, ironically enough, in the Deception arc. When Anakin and Ahsoka are first sent after "Rako Hardeen" to arrest him and they find him drunk, Anakin explicitly tells "Hardeen" that he'd kill him if it wouldn't disrespect Obi-Wan's memory to do so. You can make the argument that he's able to hold back in part because Ahsoka's standing there watching him, so he couldn't really get away with killing a drunk man who won't fight back, but he doesn't seem to be paying much attention to her and his claim out loud is that he's doing it because it's what Obi-Wan would want him to do. He does start to struggle more and more as the arc goes on and loses some of that fight with his anger, but this initial moment does show us that Anakin CAN hold back when he wants to and that Obi-Wan's influence on him is, generally, a positive one.

The reason I point these out is because we don't often see this kind of restraint with any of his other relationships. Shmi, Padme, and Ahsoka in particular have a tendency to bring out the WORST in him (note that Obi-Wan's influence will stop being as strong when it's pitted against, say, Padme or Ahsoka's lives at stake).

So I DO think that Palpatine likely was originally intending for Obi-Wan to BE the primary "obsession" for Anakin until the opportunity to throw Padme back into his life came into play. We see elements of it in the way Anakin talks about Obi-Wan through AOTC, telling Padme that Obi-Wan is as wise as Yoda and as powerful as Mace, and telling Obi-Wan himself that he's the closest thing he's ever had to a father. But even with that, Obi-Wan's influence is very GROUNDING for Anakin, it reminds Anakin of who he should be and who he CAN be in a way no other relationship he has ever truly does. Obi-Wan's influence in Anakin's life actually INSPIRES Anakin to be better because Obi-Wan has managed to connect with Anakin in a way that goes deeper than some of his other relationships (I think that his relationships with Padme and Ahsoka are both INCREDIBLY skin deep and that Anakin mostly sees them as extensions of himself or primarily for what they can do for him rather than caring about them for who they are).

Which means that, while Anakin's attachment to Obi-Wan is always going to be a bad thing that could feasibly push Anakin to do terrible things, there's arguably evidence in canon to support the idea that if Palpatine had CONTINUED with this particular plan, that it wouldn't have worked quite as well as it did with Padme. I think that Anakin's attachment to Obi-Wan, such as it is, has to come up against Anakin's desire for Obi-Wan's APPROVAL which is only gained when Anakin acts MORE LIKE A JEDI. He WANTS to live up to Obi-Wan's faith in him, he wants to Obi-Wan to be proud of him and feel like the time and effort he spent training him was worth it. It's also worth noting that their dynamic as Master and Padawan makes the whole overprotective thing less likely to come up than it would with people like Padme and Ahsoka. Obi-Wan was MORE powerful than Anakin for a while, MORE capable of protecting himself than Anakin was, and was actually ANAKIN'S protector. So while he does CARE whether Obi-Wan lives or dies, he's also much more inclined to believe Obi-Wan can generally take care of himself, too.

So I can honestly see it sort-of going either way. Obi-Wan's relationship with Anakin is one of the few (if not the ONLY) real grounding influences in Anakin's life and could have possibly broken through the attachment enough to keep Anakin from going full tilt Sith, but it's equally as likely that Palpatine would've found a way around that anyway. Obviously, Palpatine could've just... killed Obi-Wan to get that influence out of the way and pushed Anakin over the edge out of a desire for vengeance as opposed to a desire to keep Obi-Wan from dying in the first place. The attachment is still dangerous, and as long as Palpatine's alive, he'll find a way to use it to get Anakin where he wants him, but if Obi-Wan is ALSO alive, he has the ability to balance out Palpatine's influence to some degree.