#palpatine's answer: no <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jedimasterbailey · 7 months ago

Text

Tales of the Empire Thoughts (Mostly About Barriss)

I know I’m a little late to the party in terms of laying out my thoughts on Tales of the Empire but honestly I needed a few days to process and digest what happened (not to mention being on vacation delayed that process as well). Obviously as a Barriss stan/fanfic writer/blogger y’all know that those episodes were the upmost priority for me and I will be rewatching those episodes on repeat like no other since it’s been far too long since Barriss has had her time to shine.

The majority of this post will be centered around those specific episodes because I’m just gonna just go ahead and say that the Morgan Elsbeth episodes were boring and didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know about the character. Also the bullshit reasoning as to why Morgan doesn’t obviously look Dathomiran is so dumb in that my brain will malfunction if I think about it too much. If the “magic going away” thing was true then how do you explain Merrin and Ventress who still have power and retain their clear Dathomiran appearance? Either way, there is no way Darth Felonious could explain his “logic” to me there because it is all too clear that Morgan was never meant to be Dathomiran in the first place. She was just a bad lady with a spear and that’s that. Love the actress, but the character is just lame. Furthermore, it is so clear that the hat man knows absolutely nothing about Thrawn and I’m not even a Thrawn stan but why even if the guy involved if he just says a few words and leaves? Now before y’all come for me, yes I’m aware these episodes are shorts and the time is precious but to me they could have dedicated more time into explaining to me why Morgan is so loyal to Thrawn. Her reasoning for wanting to join the Empire is empty too in that the Separatists that annihilated her race is now the Empire so…to me that’s not enough reasoning for Morgan to be so dedicated. The only parts that had me engaged were the Grevious bits which were both beautiful and frightening at the same time.

Now onto the meat which is the Barriss arc which has me both elated and frustrated at the same time. Let’s begin with the stuff I absolutely love.

1.) Barriss proving herself to not be committed to the Dark Side/Empire is a huge win for me and other Barriss super fans who have been preaching this for over a decade. We knew from the moment the trailer came out that Barriss was just going to do what it took to survive and even though she was forced into doing things she really did not want to do, she stayed true to herself and escaped before it was too late. The light in her never left nor did it ever leave her and I just know that Luminara would have been so proud of her. Barriss constantly questioning the Grand Inquisitor and the Fourth Sister had me smiling because that is just Barriss. She will always question things that seem off and will defend her beliefs and values no matter what the danger to herself may be. The line of reclaiming her position of a Jedi is my absolute favorite line and gave me all the feels I get whenever Luke tells Palpatine that he is a Jedi like his father. On a final note, I loved that she showed genuine concern/fear for what was happening to the Jedi when Order 66 was happening and demanded an answer.

2.) Barriss being a healer and a protector. It is so satisfying to see it canon on screen that Barriss remains to be a healer after years of being obsessed with the Legends Medstar lore. I absolutely loved that Barriss took off her mask to the terrified boy in the village and protected him against the Fourth Sister’s unnecessary wrath only to save the non-binary (yay representation!) Jedi from death later that day. It all just makes me so happy to get that validation that Barriss has always had a big heart which makes her stand out from other Jedi in my opinion.

3.) Barriss sporting that lesbian pixie cut with the adorable laugh/smile lines and being a healer in the mountains helping Force sensitive and the sick/injured just makes my day. It warms my heart to see Barriss be at peace and doing so much good after so much pain and trauma from her past. Though I do miss her hood and would like to see a head covering on her again. Also doing the math, Barriss should be in her thirties during the third episodes so why did they age her up so much? I’ve heard the theory of the Force healing taking her life force but damn Luminara was in her late thirties during the Clone Wars and she had like nothing 😅 One other note that makes me smile is that Barriss is referred to as a “wise mother” and that’s just everything. Also she looks and acts like just like Luminara they truly could be mother and daughter it’s so sweet 💚💙

4.) Barriss defeating an Inquisitor without a weapon of her own and catching a blade with the Force is so fucking badass, I could re-watch that sequence on repeat forever.

5.)The vague Ahsoka mention had my Barrissoka heart exploding. I demand an animated Barrissoka show immediately.

Now here are the bits that have me frustrated and I demand that Darth Felonious fixes them later.

1.) The lack of closure between Barriss and Ahsoka/Luminara. Barriss hurt a lot of people from her actions but at the very least it would be nice to see her repair the damage she inflicted on the people closest to her. We never saw anything in regards to Luminara’s reaction to the bombing and knowing what gruesome fate awaits her in Rebels, I was so hoping the two would meet again, make amends before Luminara inevitably sacrificed herself as a final act of love and forgiveness for her Padawan. As for Ahsoka…if the two are able to work together in the future, could we at least see how exactly that came to be? I’m personally growing tired of major developments happening off-screen and we as an audience are just expected to roll with it. Again I’m aware these are shorts, but why do they have to be shorts? Why can’t we just delete the boring Morgan episodes and get like a movie or limited series on this exact journey?

2.) The return of yet another ambiguous ending for Barriss. I am a firm believer that Barriss is alive granted that people seem to get stabbed all the time in Star Wars and they get to live so why not Barriss? I understand what they’re doing with Barriss getting through to the Fourth Sister to show us that Barriss has come full circle in her journey from dark to light, however since I’m forced to believe that Barriss had some sort of relationship with this random Inquisitor pre-Empire instead of someone who did have a significant relationship to her, it falls flat for me and it enrages me that if Barriss were to die from this….well I just don’t have words for that. So now I’m wondering if I’m going to have to wait another 10 years to get answers. Thank the Force for fanfic and fanart to get me through.

3.) Does Barriss even know what the Empire did her Master? Because… I feel that’s another huge story thats being missed here. Ahsoka was able to get some closure with Anakin, why can’t Barriss have the same with Luminara?

4.) Never getting anything in terms of what pushed Barriss to bomb the Jedi temple in the first place. That’s my biggest beef with the original Clone Wars series since we see no development as to how Barriss goes from a kind gifted Padawan healer to mastermind of a terror plot. That could a book or show on its own.

5.) Star Wars continuing to miss what a satisfying redemption arc is. Not only do we need to understand what got a character to do the crime(s) but we need to see the growth that comes from it. That’s what makes the Obi-Wan Kenobi show so good to me is that I now know how Obi-Wan grew from RotS to where we meet him in ANH. I would love to see the same for Barriss, because you just know she’s been on very spiritual/emotional journey to get to where she was at the end of the show.

6.) Why was Vader even in this? Given the history Barriss and Anakin share, it is incredible that nothing happened between them post ROTS. And this is like fresh Vader still full of grief and anger by what’s happened so I doubt seeing Barriss even as an Inquisitor initiate would be anymore soothing. I just don’t understand…what a waste. Something more epic and cathartic could have come out of that interaction.

Well I’m done ranting for now, I’m curious to know what your guy’s thoughts are. Otherwise my brain is buzzing with fanfic story ideas and I’ll be getting back on the writing horse as I re-Watch the Barriss episodes into oblivion.

#star wars meta #tales of the empire meta #tales of the empire #tales of the empire spoilers #barriss offee #luminara unduli #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #the clone wars #star wars

75 notes · View notes

hugmekenobi · 7 months ago

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (3)

Chapter Three: Shadows of Tantiss

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Time is against Omega and Crosshair as they finally make the move to escape

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

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

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of food and the importance of self-care, the Force and meditation works how I say it can, reader is a bit more forceful in making Hunter look after himself lol, Hemlock and Palpatine, threatening insinuations, light angst, again my interpretations of headspaces, limited use of (y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Author's notes: The people have spoken (it was three people but people I greatly appreciate and it was enough) so here is the third chapter too! Very much sticking with the episode plot because the main focus is on Crosshair and Omega for this one but there's still an added moment in the beginning! Enjoy and I'm excited to start chapter four!

“You picking up anything?” Wrecker asked your cross-legged form that was seated by the tree at the top of Pabu.

You heaved an annoyed sigh as you sat there. “Nope. I don’t know if it’s cause I’m out of practice or if she’s really somewhere I can’t reach or both, but I can’t get a read on her.” You then sensed Wrecker’s slight unease. “What’s up?”

“Well… um… Hunter’s talking about heading out immediately.”

“Mm-hmm.” You said, shielding your eyes from the sun as you opened them to look at him. “And that’s a problem because?”

“Come on, (Y/N), we can’t just drop the kids here and leave. That’s not fair to them. Plus, Shep offered us a break and- and I- I think it would be good if we got some actual food in our systems. Supplies haven’t exactly been easy to come by when you’re travelling as much as we are.”

You had to agree with him there. You got to your feet and followed his eyes and saw Hunter disengage from a conversation with Shep and stride back to the Marauder. “And what exactly do you want me to do here?”

“Just…” He breathed heavily. “I dunno. Talk to him? Try to get him to listen? He won’t hear us out but- but your relationship is different and- and it’s not just for me, okay. Do it for him. I know things are better but…” He trailed off. “But I’m still worried about him that’s all.”

His sensitivity to the situation never failed to strike a chord with you. You patted his arm. “We’re family, Wrecker. I’d do it just for you anyway.”

Wrecker let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”

You walked away from him towards the ship and as you stepped aboard, you saw Hunter sitting back by the navicomputer with his sight fixed firmly on the datapad. “You know, the sector isn’t going to change if you don’t look at it every two minutes.”

“I’m just making sure we have it correct and ready to go. Can you get Wrecker?” Hunter asked without looking at you yet.

“About that…” You came to stand in front of him and placed your fingers under his chin to get him to face you. “What’s this about you wanting to just leave the cadets and take off? Shep’s offering us some decent food and we could rest up before we depart.”

“We don’t have time.” He maintained.

“No one’s talking about a five-course meal. It’s a quick sit down where you can put those clones at ease about this new situation that they’re in and you take a moment to just look after yourself.”

“I don’t need-”

“Hunter, when was the last time you had something to eat that wasn’t just rations?” You interrupted sternly. The mere fact that he couldn’t answer told you that it had been far too long. “Look, we don’t know what we’re going to face out there and we all need to be at full strength and ration bars can’t always cut it. It’s not just you involved in this either. Wrecker has been at it non-stop too and he deserves a moment of respite and something that isn’t a flavourless stick and so do you.

“(Y/N)-”

“Thirty minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

As Hunter saw the determined look in your face, he heaved a sigh, but put the datapad down. He had never wanted his tunnel-vision with this search to negatively impact the rest of you but thanks to you, he realised now that if he had insisted on leaving immediately, then that’s exactly what he’d be doing.

Taking that as your answer, you took a hold of his hands and started to pull.

“Half an hour?” Hunter double checked as he let you tug him from the chair.

“Half an hour.” You confirmed with a nod. “Then we can get going again.”

Omega was already on her feet and waiting by the door when Emerie opened it.

“Good morning, Omega. Come along, there is much to do today.”

Omega followed Emerie through the usual route to the testing room but as she walked in and hopped up onto the examination table, she noticed there were more troopers patrolling and there was a new kind of tension in the air. “Something’s different.” She shared her observation aloud to Emerie. “Why are there so many troopers around?”

“I’m not certain.” Emerie replied.

“You don’t know?” Omega queried, not fully understanding how Emerie could be so content not knowing about what was going on around her.

“The doctor will inform me if it’s necessary.” Emerie prepared the blood drawing equipment and took the sample from Omega.

The door opened and they both turned to see Hemlock and Nala Se enter the lab.

“Emerie, a word?” Hemlock called over.

Emerie put the sample in the tray and walked over to him.

“An unexpected guest arriving shortly. Nala Se and I will be indisposed until he departs. Oversee the lab in her absence.”

“As you wish, Doctor. I will begin testing the latest samples.”

“That is unnecessary.” Nala Se interjected. “I will see to them when I return.” She had been doing her job in keeping Omega safe and having Emerie carry out the tests jeopardised all of it.

“Dr. Karr’s quite capable of handling such matters.” Hemlock ignored the Kaminoan’s objections and faced Emerie. “See it done.” His attentions were then commandeered when Scorch walked through the doors.

“Sir.”

“Is everything in order?”

“Affirmative. The shuttle has left the orbital station and the coordinated were transmitted.”

Nala Se stepped away from Hemlock to walk over to Omega as she saw Emerie gather the samples and leave the lab. She pretended to examine the records on the screen as she quietly addressed the young girl, “Omega… listen carefully. If Emerie tests your sample, you will be in danger. You must flee this facility before it is too late.”

“Wait. Is that why you’ve been destroying my sample?” Omega whispered back.

“Yes.” Nala Se replied. “Project-” But Hemlock’s voice interrupted her.

“Nala Se, come along. Our guest is arriving.”

“Go to the lab, retrieve my datapad and use it to escape. Sneak aboard a shuttle and flee.” Nala Se instructed before she left with Hemlock.

Omega made her way to the lab, her nerves growing as she saw the vast number of patrolling troopers, but she couldn’t second guess now, Nala Se made it clear she had to go, and she could make it work, she just needed the datapad and Crosshair.

She entered the lab and saw that Emerie had already placed all the samples, including hers into the centrifuge.

“Did you need something, Omega?” Emerie asked.

“I… Hemlock said there’s a guest arriving.” She released an awkward chuckle. “Who is it?”

“It’s best not to ask questions.” Emerie replied briskly. “See to your tasks for the day.” When Omega made no move to leave, she properly looked at her. “Are you feeling well? Forget your assignments and get some rest.”

“Okay.” Omega said lightly before she made her way over to Nala Se’s datapad but Emerie’s voice stopped her from taking it.

“Omega, I can handle things here. Go. I’ll check on you later.” Emerie insisted.

Double checking that Emerie’s attention was elsewhere again, Omega grabbed the datapad and ran out of the lab.

“We have quadrupled our objectives in record time.” Hemlock informed Emperor Palpatine as he led him to the vault. “The exotic matter facilities have expanded, providing alteration and testing of much larger assets.”

“I have need of such grand designs. However, that is not the reason why I am here today.”

“Of course. Project Necromancer.” With that, Hemlock activated the door to the vault.

Omega made her way to the detention level and covertly ran to the cell where her brother was lying on the cell cot. “Crosshair.” She whispered.

“What are you doing here?” Crosshair asked irritably.

“Escaping. And you’re coming with me.”

Crosshair reluctantly sat up and regarded the girl with scepticism. “You found a weak point?”

“Not exactly. I’m kinda improvising.”

“Is that some kind of a joke?”

“I’ll explain later. Just get the guards’ attention.”

Crosshair sighed, “That’s not a plan.”

Omega released a disgruntled scoff, and she did not want to entertain this argument, “Just distract him.” She insisted.

His longing for freedom trumped his displeasure at the fact that this kid seemed to lack any sort of proper strategic thinking. So, he got to his feet and walked towards the bars of his cell and addressed the two troopers standing down the corridor. “Guards!”

Omega waited round the corner and watched as one of them approached Crosshair’s door.

“Unlock this cell.” Crosshair demanded.

“What did you say?”

“I was giving you an order.”

The guard scoffed and called back to his partner, “This clone thinks he outranks us.”

“I do.” Crosshair replied simply as he saw the other guard coming to join. “And I’ll take your blaster too.”

“Oh yeah?” The trooper challenged with a mocking laugh. “How are you gonna do that?”

Whilst this was happening, Omega used the opening to place her datapad into the now unmanned centre console and programmed Crosshair’s cell door to unlock.

“You’ll see.” Crosshair didn’t have to wait long until his door opened, and he instantly overpowered the trooper. He stole his blaster and used his body as a shield from the oncoming stun blasts from the second stormtrooper whilst he fired his own stun blast in return and they both fell the ground.

“Nice work.” Omega praised as he put them back behind the cell door.

“Didn’t have much choice.” Crosshair griped as he picked up the second blaster.

“You’re out of the cell, aren’t you?” Omega countered smugly as she removed the datapad and caught the blaster he tossed to her before they both started running.

“Well? Start talking.” Crosshair said as he waited for her to get the next door open.

“I told you. We’re escaping.” Omega repeated.

“Why now? What’s changed?”

“Nala Se said I had to. And I wasn’t gonna leave without you.”

Crosshair let that sink in for a moment. It wasn’t a sentiment he was used to hearing or experiencing, and whilst he held responsibility for that, it was still strange to here coming from someone who had no true reason to have any loyalty to him.

“She told me to use her datapad to access the base and find a shuttle. We just need to get to a hangar.” Omega continued explaining as she finally got the door open.

They took cover behind the hallway’s centre console as a squadron of stormtrooper passed and they overheard part of their musings.

“We’re not supposed to be on patrol until midwatch.”

“Commander’s orders. All hands-on deck until the Emperor departs.”

“The Emperor’s here?” Crosshair hissed.

“What? I didn’t know.” Omega said defensively as she looked through the manifest of available shuttles.

Crosshair released another exasperated sigh. “Another reason why this was not the day to wing an escape.”

“Thanks for the reminder, but I think we’re past that point.” It was then that Omega noticed the tremor in his hand as he held the blaster. “Your hand’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“I- It’s fine.” Crosshair said with a dismissive grunt as he willed it to stop shaking.

Not having time to push the matter yet, Omega turned her focus back to the screen but what she saw was not good. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

She took the datapad out. “All the shuttles have been grounded, except the Emperor’s. We’ll have to steal it.”

The sheer simplicity in which she said that had him realising that his brothers may have entertained one too many crazy ideas in his absence. “Impossible. It will be too well-guarded, even for me.”

Omega pondered through any possible alternatives in her head and then she came to the realisation with a gasp. “Wait. I know a shuttle we can use. It crash-landed outside the perimeter back when I first came here.”

“How does a crashed shuttle help us?”

“If the comms are still functioning, we can contact the others.”

He could concede that that part of this ill-conceived ‘plan’ wasn’t totally far-fetched. “And how do we get outside?”

“Follow me.”

“As you can see, the specimens are well-guarded to ensure they remain viable for testing. However, with more time, and additional resources, I am confident that we will have a successful M-count replication.” Hemlock revealed to the cloaked figure.

“There is nothing of greater importance to secure the future of this Empire. Whatever is needed to accomplish this goal, you will have it.”

“Thank you, Emperor.” Hemlock made to show him out, but he only turned to face him. His yellow eyes the only thing visible underneath the cloak as they regarded him with curiosity but also with a hint of disappointment.

Palpatine did not follow the scientist immediately. “I did here word, however, one such specimen escaped your grasp.” He commented. “One that perhaps could offer you more than those that are already under your… observations.”

Hemlock’s posture stiffened and he massaged the palm of his gloved hand. “It was an unfortunate error but one I am hoping to rectify.”

Palpatine only silently nodded before he started to walk out.

As they entered the kennels, they didn’t give the droid much time to react. A few blasts from their blasters and he was down.

“Now what?” Crosshair asked.

“We’ll use the kennel chute.” Omega said as she readied the controls. “It leads outside, but it’s protected by a timed ray shield. We’ll have to move fast or we’ll be trapped.”

Crosshair regarded the aggressive barking hounds uneasily. “Oh, I can hardly wait.”

“We can use Batcher’s empty kennel. Be ready.” She opened the chute, but the door whirred open.

“Omega.”

Crosshair cocked his blaster towards the woman that walked in.

“Don’t!” Omega placed her hand on his arm to get him to lower it.

Crosshair didn’t listen, he kept his sights trained on her.

“You should go back to your room.” Emerie advised as she advanced towards them.

“You mean her cell.” Crosshair snapped.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Neither of you.” Emerie said. “But it’s not too late. Come with me and no one needs to know about this.”

“I can’t do that.” Omega responded firmly.

“Omega-”

“I spent most of my life confined on Kamino. I won’t be trapped here too.” She looked imploringly at the older clone. “You’re a clone like us, Emerie. Help us.”

Crosshair could tell Omega’s words weren’t doing enough to convince her and he set his blaster to stun.

“Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good.” She pressed the security alarm, but the stun shot hit her immediately afterwards.

The dreaded sound of the comms steady chirp told Crosshair he’d reacted a split second too late. “We have to go.”

Omega activated the first kennel door and the two of them ran down the chute.

Hemlock watched the Emperor’s shuttle depart with a growing sense of pride as the possibility of becoming the scientific minister felt closer than it ever had before.

“Sir.”

Hemlock half turned his head to the sound of Scorch’s voice. “What is it?” He asked tightly.

“Omega and CT-9904 are missing.”

He turned around fully. “Missing?” He glanced over at Nala Se and though her face didn’t give much away, he was sure she was involved somehow.

“An alarm was just triggered in the lurca kennels.”

“Seal it off.” He ordered.

An alarm blared through the tunnel and the shields throughout the chut started to turn back on.

“The shield’s not supposed to be active yet.” Omega said in distress.

“They know we’re in here.” Crosshair realised before he increased his speed. “Move faster!”

Together, they both managed to dive out of the exit just as the last shield activated.

Crosshair peered into the dark forest ahead. “What direction is the crashed shuttle?”

“Not sure.” Omega replied.

“Oh, great.” Crosshair muttered impatiently before he looked up to the sound of a shuttle leaving the base. “We’ll follow the flight path.”

“I’m picking up something.” Omega said as she looked at the datapad whilst they both came to a stop. “I think it could be the ship. That way.” She pointed ahead but the cry of a vicious snarl grabbed both their attention.

“Oh, good. The killer hounds.” Crosshair said wryly.

They started their run again but with Omega being so focused on the screen, she tumbled over a tree root.

Crosshair picked up the loose datapad and helped the girl up to her feet.

“Thanks.” Omega said but then she heard a new kind of animal growl, and she peered past Crosshair to see a giant bear-like creature standing tall on two legs. “Crosshair.” She said nervously.

Crosshair pointed his blaster, but he knew by the sheer size of the creature that there wouldn’t be much he could do.

Suddenly, the hounds came running in and rather than come after them, they charged at the creature, and they gratefully took the opportunity to keep running to the downed shuttle.

They reached the shuttle and Omega got to work on powering it up whilst Crosshair kept watch.

Having been dismissed by Dr. Hemlock when she’d come too, Emerie made her way back to the lab to do as he instructed and monitor things there. The monotonous click of the centrifuge blended into the background as she worked.

“Anything?” Crosshair asked.

Omega hit the control panel in sheer frustration. “It’s not working!” She let out a defeated sigh. “Comms are completely dead.” She put the datapad into a supply pack she’d found, grabbed her blaster, and put the pack on her back and came out to join Crosshair.

“They’re coming.” Crosshair said as he heard the low sound of engines approaching and he signalled to Omega to take cover to the side of the shuttle.

“I’m sorry. I thought this would work.” Omega

He may have been doubtful in the beginning, but it was clear that what he originally thought was careless thinking was actually rooted in that out-of-the-box thinking that had gotten him and his brother’s their success during the war and time thereafter. She had done something just by finding a way outside. Now, he could bring in his own experience. “You got us this far. And we’re not done yet. Did they teach plan 72?”

“Mm-hmm. Tech had me memorize all the plans.”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help the small but fond smile that graced his face upon hearing that. “Of course he did.”

The two of them got in position as the shuttle arrived.

He looked at his hand with anger and infuriation as his aim was off with the first shot and all he could do was retreat into the treeline whilst they fired back at him.

With Crosshair’s distraction giving the opening she needed, Omega made her way to one of the cables the troopers had used to descend. But before she could get up, a stormtrooper cocked his blaster.

“Stand down.”

She awkwardly turned and waved to the soldier. “Hello.”

“I said, stand down.” He repeated forcefully.

Omega watched with shock as a lurca hound came snarling out from a bush and took out the trooper and when he got to his feet and aimed at the hound, she got her own stun blast away. “Batcher?” The answering happy bark told her the answer. “Stay close.” With that, Batcher went to take care of the troopers and she hooked onto the cable and ascended.

With the hound Omega had befriended making her appearance, Crosshair was able to take out more guards than he thought he would’ve been able to.

If things had gone according to plan, he would be able to join Omega in the shuttle in a few minutes. He just needed to bide his time.

Sure enough, as he took out one other trooper, the shuttle started to move wildly out of position and as he took cover from an onslaught of blaster fire, the shuttle fired down on the remaining troopers, and he hastily made his way across the rocks to reach the opening ship doors.

Omega steadied the shuttle and came down the lift to provide Crosshair with cover fire as he came in board and headed up to the pilot’s chair.

Crosshair reached the seat and chucked the pilot out the hatch.

Hearing the doors getting ready to shut, Omega took cover and whistled for Batcher. “Batcher, come!”

When the dog was safely inside, Crosshair shut the doors and got the ship in the air.

Emerie had gotten so used to the monotonous drone of the centrifuge that it had become mere background noise. So much so that she almost missed the new rhythmic beeping that chimed as a new sample clicked into position. Emerie stood up and investigated the screen and the realisation with what she saw, stunned her.

The troopers had only been half the problem. Despite having escaped the ground assault, they were now trying to out fly V-wing shuttles and the bases’ laser cannons and one of them managed to hit the shuttle.

“They’re locking onto us!” Omega shouted as alarms blared throughout the shuttle. “I can’t shake them! Systems are failing.”

“I want that ship neutralized.” Hemlock insisted heatedly as he watched map in main control room.

“Stop! Don’t shoot them down!” Emerie urged as she entered the room.

“What?” Hemlock snapped.

“The clone’s sample supported a positive M-count transfer with no degradation from the specimen.”

“CT-9904 was ruled out long ago.” Hemlock argued.

“Not him. It’s Omega.” Emerie revealed, showing him the results.

Hemlock studied the datapad and saw what she was talking about. “Call them off!” He directed Scorch.

“But, sir, they’re escaping.” Scorch tried to protest.

“Stand down!” Hemlock insisted. “We need her alive.”

Not looking to question the reason as to why they peeled off, Crosshair shouted to Omega. “Now!”

Omega launched the ship into hyperspace.

Hemlock watched the ship disappear off the map.

“They’ve jumped.” Scorch confirmed.

Hemlock released a short sigh. “A minor setback. I have the full resources of the Empire at my disposal. We will find her. And with her gone, she will lead us to someone else who will prove most useful to our endeavours.” With that, he exited the room.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69, @starwarsnerd111, @fuckoffthanos, @graciexmarvel, @tpwkcalli, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @sunkissedclones, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort

68 notes · View notes

ossidae-passeridae · 11 months ago

Note

Opinion on 15 or 17? Or both 🫢

Questions from here

15. Opinion on Anakin’s characterization discrepancies between Clone Wars and the prequels? [i.e., the broification of Anakin Skywalker]

The short answer to this (from a Watsonian-esque perspective) is that the Clone Wars show is, at its core, a narrative told from Ahsoka's POV. Ahsoka, as Anakin's padawan, has a very rose tinted view of him — he's a hero, he's a charming rogue, he's able to get out of every situation — and of course she does! She's a child, he's his teacher and guide, it's normal to look up to people in those roles in your life when you're young.

In the movies, though, we're seeing Anakin from a removed third person perspective, which is to say we're seeing him as he really is. Ahsoka can't conceptualise Anakin crying from overwhelm, the same way that kids can't conceptualise their parents doing the same. But he does (very prettily, might I add). The 'real' Anakin is awkward, and cries when he's emotional, and is more than just the confident front he puts on for other people.

From a Doylist perspective, I'm just 😩 at Filoni trying to make Anakin "cool" in TCW because he thought he wasn't manly enough or whatever. Spray bottle direct to the face for him.

17. What event is Anakin’s point of no return in his fall to the dark side?

Baby boy is doomed by the narrative before he's even born <3 So his conception I guess 🤣

Putting that aside though, I think it's not when he killed the Tuskens after his mother's death — though that is undoubtedly a Dark act — but when he decides to keep it a secret from Obi-Wan and the rest of the Jedi. He doesn't own up to his actions, which he clearly knows were wrong. It isn't that he keeps it to himself, either! He tells both Padme and Palpatine, both of whom have enormous political power.

But he doesn't tell the Jedi. He decides to let fear — of what the consequences might be, of what Obi-Wan might think of him — rule him. Because how they (he) perceive him is more important to Anakin than atoning for his actions.

And that's not a once-off, Anakin choosing to keep this secret. That's a choice he has to make over and over every day, a fear that hangs over him like a pall — the fear that they'll find out what he's done, the fear that someone will tell them, or someone will sense it, or that he'll somehow give it away.

It's a fear that impacts every single choice he makes from that moment on, and every moment he continues to let that fear rule him, he's giving more and more power to the Dark.

(All opinions expressed above are solely those of pass e. ridae and do not express the views or opinions of any affiliates or associates, passerine or otherwise)

#dae asks #star wars #anakin skywalker #the eternal tension between doylist and watsonian readings of media #I love Anakin so much but that man has never seen a bad choice he didn't immediately want #in the words of my immor(t)al friend mid:#anakin sees a bad decision and asks 'is anyone gonna make that' and then doesnt wait for an answer

102 notes · View notes

al-astakbar · 4 months ago

Text

>title ☆ The Gift ☆part 11/?

>summary ☆ As congratulations for his recent promotion to Grand Admiral, Emperor Palpatine gives Thrawn a gift -- a young woman who has been trained as a pleasure companion.

>pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [5.5k] ☆ warnings for this part ☆ sex, cunnilingus, forced orgasm, anal fingering > series warnings ☆ dubious consent; sexual slavery; concubine/ sex slave AU; will add more warnings as more parts are posted

>series navigation ☆ part 1 ☆ part 2 ☆ part 3 ☆ part 4 ☆ part 5 ☆ part 6 ☆ part 7☆ part 8 ☆ part 9 ☆ part 10 ☆ part 11

>posted on ao3

author note!! To be very clear, in this story reader is a concubine against her will and is gifted to Thrawn, but there is at no point any noncon between Thrawn and reader. Reader is never noncon with anyone, either referenced or explicitly, and there is never any explicit noncon. However, this is a darker take on Thrawn and he doesn't really have many hangups about putting his gift to use...

The day quickly comes when Thrawn’s allowance for your little crusade ends. Your stubborn denial amounts to torturing yourself, and while he does enjoy the game, will even tease you himself if the mood strikes him, it all gets to be too much.

You’d like to place most of the blame on him. He has not been permissive. You may not leave his quarters unless you are with him, and the few times you have asked, even to simply stretch your legs in the corridor just outside, he has refused. You have no entertainment other than the datapad-- and his company, of course, but that is not a sure thing.

He leaves you alone for hours at a stretch, and sometimes locks you in the sleeping area. From eavesdropping at the hatch, you think it’s because he is holding meetings in the main room that serves as his office and living area. You listen intently, though for what, you’re not really sure. You have no one to tell. No one waiting for you to pass information. The snippets you hear are intriguing enough to keep spying anyway.

There are hushed, tense conversations about adversaries who seem to be more advanced and capable than pirates. They keep evading the Chimaera, and when the Fleet does manage to catch up to them, they always slip away at the last second. The normal tracking sensors and techniques aren’t working. Thrawn’s senior staff sound increasingly frustrated, and though you never hear Thrawn raise his voice, he is tense, too.

You also have no one to talk to except him. Not that he is a poor conversationalist. In fact, it’s the opposite. He is engaging and sharp, eliciting detailed answers about your time on Coruscant, and your life before that. But he always dodges any reciprocal questions about himself, his people. Hell, you still don’t know what species he is or the name of the language he sometimes slips into when he is tired or irritated or overcome with lust. You wonder, sometimes, if he might feel isolated too, being possibly the only one of his kind in an unwelcoming, xenophobic empire.

Between the two of you, bored and frustrated and lonely and horny are not a good combination.

Inevitably, one particular bad day gets worse.

First, you spill caf on his uniform. (It may not have been an accident.) He does not yell. He does not chide.

He is definitely cross with you.

He orders you to fetch his spare uniform-- coat and trousers-- from where they hang in the wall locker in the bedroom, next to your clothes. Be quick about it.

You aren’t. You dawdle bringing it back and then stand, rather contrite and determinedly staring at your feet, while he strips and re-dresses. When he is in his fresh uniform, you start for the hatch-- already late getting up to the bridge for the familiar routine of morning muster. He stops you, his voice icy. “Where are you going?”

You freeze on the spot. “Up? To the bridge? I think I know the way by myself now.”

Thrawn very deliberately brings his hands behind his back. The same expression from Mirri or Solis or anyone else would have you rolling your eyes. With Thrawn, though, your breath catches, your pulse picks up. Whatever you said was not the right answer.

His gaze sweeps down to the floor. “Clean up your mess.” Dismissive and cold. And when you get down, rag in hand, he has another correction. “On your hands and knees.” Just as you are about to get up, he taps his boot.There are few drops of caf on the high-shine leather. Not with the rag, he says.

Kneeling, you look up at him incredulously. “If you really think I’m going to--” You can’t even say it. Lick his boots?

His eyes narrow, and you suddenly feel like all the air has been stolen from the room. He does not have to speak. His silence is warning enough. You lower yourself deeper still and clean his boots with your tongue, humiliation burning hot through your body.

Second, Assistant Director Ronan is in a mood. You can’t tell if it’s a good mood or a bad mood, or even if the Assistant Director differentiates between the two. Every time you see him and Thrawn in the same place, Ronan will have a problem, typically self-inflicted or entirely made up, which he then makes Thrawn’s problem. His main purpose seems to be to publicly question the Grand Admiral. He disputes everything from battle plans to personnel assignments to the very position of the ship--

“The sun is in my eyes!”

Indeed, the navigator has turned the Chimaera so that a small amount of direct light from the solar system the Seventh Fleet detachment is currently orbiting is streaming in the starboard viewport. At the Assistant Director’s outburst, multiple officers pull their covers further down over their eyes. He has a habit of zeroing in on any crew members who scowl at him too obviously.

He rounds on one and begins pestering the young woman, who gamely tries to explain to him the purpose of the maneuver but is much too technical about it. Ronan does not care about the difficulties of reorienting with cold gas thrusters, nor the hours it would take to reestablish the target vectoring matrix. He also chastises her for not standing to address him, a superior, and when she does, he finds fault with the state of her uniform.

“Wrinkles! Is this what they teach at the Academy now? Did you just roll out of bed into your greens or was the laundry droid out of service?”

The young officer is being more patient than you think you could ever be, and apologizes, while telling him that she has been on shift for eleven hours.

She gets more and more flustered, and the Assistant Director’s voice more shrill, until finally it attracts the attention of Thrawn and a few senior staff.

“We are on this bearing so that the ship’s long-range sensors can get a better reading for the target we are pursuing.” Thrawn explains, his tone just as calm and professional as always.

The Assistant Director snorts, as if this is a likely story. “And what about your bridge officers who parade around looking like this? Is this an Imperial Star Destroyer or a Nal Hutta bazaar?”

You think you see Thrawn’s jaw tic. Never a good sign. Losing control is not something he does.

“This is insubordination!” Commodore Faro snaps. “And if the light is such a concern, Colonel, you might be more comfortable in a part of the ship where there are no viewports.”

Thrawn raises a silent hand, and she immediately stops. “If there are concerns with my crew, Assistant Director, please bring them to my attention directly.” He looks over at the young officer. “Lieutenant Chiro, I have need of your workstation at the moment, you stand relieved.” She comes to attention and leaves without another look at Ronan.

“That’s it?! You aren’t-- she disrespected a superior! She needs to be reprimanded!” Ronan’s face is ruddy, his eyes wild, and he looks very close to stomping his feet like a toddler. “I demand--!”

“Assistant Director Ronan!” Thrawn’s voice cuts across Ronan’s. The surrounding crew who had been studiously pretending to work now look around at the scene. You’re willing to bet most of them have never seen their Admiral’s patience tested in such a way. “You are causing a disturbance which is interfering with the proper running of my ship. You will be silent, or I will have you removed from the bridge.”

Ronan opens his mouth, but Thrawn speaks again, a deadly calm edge to his voice. “Commodore Faro’s point is well taken, I hope. There are no viewports in the brig.”

Third: the vase. It is a long, tense day on the bridge, with little apparent progress in the mission. Thrawn walks more quickly than usual, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

When you get back to his quarters, he ignores you. That, in itself, is typical. But for some reason it irritates you to no end. You want him to say something. To simply look at you. To turn that imposing, searing gaze on you and order you to serve him.

He acts like you don’t exist. Just a little toy on the shelf, another little trinket in his collection.

He is studying a new piece of art. One you haven’t seen him look at before. When he’s had time to acquire it, you have no idea.

Resigned, you toss the data pad aside carelessly. It bounces off the cushion and onto the floor. You wait to see if Thrawn notices. He barely looks up, so you leave the data pad where it is. You stand and begin your now-regular circuit of his gallery, starting by the large painting hung right by the hatch. Next to it, there is a white and gold filigree mask displayed on a pedestal. You always stay longest at the series of tapestries, fascinated by the intricate, expert work and wondering who was skilled enough to make such a thing and why they had parted with it.

You haven’t yet asked Thrawn how he came by any of these pieces. Nor why. He seems to be such a practically-minded person who would have no need for art. It should be frivolous to him.

Last, a vase of a striking, asymmetrical design. It looks like it shouldn’t be able to balance on its own, and is decorated in swirling, iridescent colors that remind you of the time you had stood under the Obe’iri Starfall, a spectacular natural display of lights and meteor showers visible on the planet once every three years. You should mention that to him, you think. There is an Imperial garrison there, he might have even visited.

You reach out and touch it, watching the glaze shift and reform under your finger. It must be sensitive to pressure or heat, you can’t quite tell which. Press a little too hard and--

The vase teeters on its pedestal.

You look over at Thrawn guiltily, hoping maybe this would be the one thing he wouldn’t take notice of, only to find yourself fixed with a pair of glowing red eyes. Which narrow at you.

He puts down his data pad. “Enough.” He does not have to shout to be commanding, though you hear the tension in his voice. “Come here.”

You are already bracing for a thorough and harsh spanking. Standing by his chair, you begin to take off your robes, as he always has you do, but he stops you.

“There will be no need for that.” He taps the arm of his chair thoughtfully. Lets the silence brew for a moment. Allows it to settle around you so that you go still.

“Do you wish to be sent away?”

It feels like a threat, though you don’t think he meant it like one. The very idea of being dismissed from his presence, even just locked in the bedroom, makes your stomach drop. “No!”

“I see. Then tell me, what is your aim, with this behavior.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You do.” His voice has gone very quiet. There is a dangerous edge to it. “Tell me.” He has no need for explicit threats or ultimatums. Letting you imagine the consequences of displeasing him is much more compelling.

You meet his eyes for a moment, and feel your heart start to race. You can’t think when he’s looking at you like that, can hardly breathe. Every half-formed thought flies away before you can make sense of it. You want him-- you hate him--are starting to crave his touch— want to tell him to go fuck himself, fuck the Empire-- want to go back to fixing radios but you can’t, ever. They would smell the shame and guilt on you like smoke.

He frowns. No answer is still a wrong answer.

Absurdly, you worry you’ve disappointed him.

“I wanted…” he makes you furious. The effect he’s had on you from the very moment you first met is maddening. He could have his hand at your neck and you would open wider for him, press yourself closer. Beg him for more. You feel tears prick in your eyes, another embarrassing lack of control while he is so calm. “I wanted you to pay attention to me!” The words punch out of you, somehow offering no relief. You await his word.

He regards you for another moment, seemingly unmoved by your admission. He lets a few more beats of silence tick by, watches you struggle to hold yourself still under the imposing weight of his regard. Finally:

“Lift your robe and show me your cunt. I want to see how wet you are.”

A hot rush of blood roars behind your ears, shock and arousal in equal measure at hearing those crass words in his cool, modulated voice. Face burning, you do as he says. You are more than ready to obey. You sit up on the desk, move your legs wider when he tells you, and hesitate only a beat when he instructs you-- use your fingers, spread the lips, hold yourself open for me--

He observes you dispassionately. Takes his time unbuckling his belt, unfastening his collar, shrugging out of his uniform coat. He folds it carefully and drapes it over the back of his chair.

He makes you stay like that, exposed, as his gaze sweeps over you, and he slaps the inside of your thigh when your knees start to fall together.

It is strange to see him in anything less than full uniform. The simple black sleeveless undershirt suits him just as well, emphasizing his tall, well-muscled frame. His shoulders are broad, his arms and chest toned, his waist trim.

He reaches out— it feels almost like slow motion— and very lightly brushes your labia. Petting oh-so-softly, as if he has been waiting for his chance to do this. You watch his blue fingers there against your skin. Blue. Impossible to imagine they belong to anybody else. He trails them up through your folds, feels how you are slick and shaking and lush.

It is so easy to yield under his touch. Every fiber of your being wants this— needs it. His cheeks are tinged purple, his eyes bright. His breath comes out in little puffs, visible in the chilled air of his quarters.

“I’m going to make you cum, eunh in’a.” His voice is dark, rough with desire. It sends an equal thrill of need down your spine.

You do not think you could resist him this time, even if you wanted to. But you shake your head, clinging to that last shred of self-control.

“We will have a discussion later about what you deserve, but tonight, you will cum. On my tongue or my cock, it doesn’t matter which, but I will taste you...” Your protests are weak. He ignores them. One finger in you to the knuckle, curled to hit that perfect spot, he already has you tight and fluttering around him. His thumb makes little circles on your clit. “I will drink down your pleasure and you will cum.”

Release is right there, bearing down on you. You need only to duck your head beneath the wave.

He pushes you to lie back, shoves your robe up over your breasts-- he pauses just a second and takes in the picture he’s made of you: exposed and wanton and desperate—

and lowers his mouth to taste you. As promised.

It’s immediate, and too much. Your breath catches in your chest as he licks slowly, letting your sweetness gather on his tongue.

“Thrawn…” you whimper, your hips bucking in spite of yourself. “Please-- please don’t make me…” He hitches your leg over his shoulder, uses his free arm to hold you in place. A silent warning. There is no escape. No doubt that the pleasure you receive tonight will be by his hand.

He kisses your clit, his mouth impossibly soft and hot, making obscene, wet sounds as he devours your taste. How such a controlled, exacting man could make such a mess, you don’t know. But he seems not to care at all. His tongue wide and flat, his lips all over you, lapping at every inch of your needy quim.

The first time he makes you cum it is much too quick. Your body is over-primed for it. Tuned to every touch— his hand spanning your waist, his sleek hair brushing the insides of your thighs. You can feel yourself start to unravel. The tight, twisting knot of tension and denial coming undone as he luxuriates in you. In his inevitable victory.

To seal it, he pushes a second finger into you, and ever-so-lightly sucks on your clit.

Your climax slams into you. Washes you away. Any resistance left— gone. Shattered. You surrender to the pleasure, bent to his will. You hear yourself distantly, moaning his name. He is relentless. Turns you into a trembling, helpless mess until all the pent-up need and anxiety has receded and you are just…empty.

He hums in satisfaction, still licking gently as you draw deep, shuddering breaths. You feel tears leaking out the corners of your eyes.

He notices, but doesn’t comment. His mouth and chin are shiny with your wetness and his own saliva. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off. Only sucks clean the fingers he had in you and licks his lips. That is all the respite he allows.

Swiftly—eagerly— he stands. Your eyes focus immediately on the large bulge in his trousers. He frees his erection with deft, efficient movements.

For some reason the sight of it— his large, elegant hands, blue skin against crisp white, his heavy, hard cock— sears in your memory. It will come to you when you close your eyes at night. When you watch him give orders on the bridge. When he is seated across from you at a meal, or pacing in his quarters, studying pieces in his art collection.

You watch, unable to look away as he comes between your legs. It’s a morbid curiosity. You want to see what it looks like as his cock splits you open. Right in front of you it looks bigger, somehow, enormous and truly alien. Too big to have ever fit inside you, but you know it has, and that knowledge sends a dark thrill of arousal through you.

He holds one of your legs under the knee, folding it back to your shoulder, opening you to him as he enters you. The head slips in your wetness, pushes out, his enormous length lying heavy up your belly. He tries again. Steady. You hold yourself still, rapt.

“Still so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He does not slide in easily.

You whine at the sting of it. He rocks his hips, each shallow thrust penetrating deeper.

He leans over you, supporting himself on his other arm. His head is bowed, his breath ragged. You can see his muscles tensed, corded with the effort of holding himself back. He could make this hurt, if he cared to. Could just take what he wanted, could break you in a way that couldn’t be put back together.

He doesn’t. He is slow, measured. He seems to understand that you are oversensitized. When you squirm at a too-light touch, he adjusts. Grips your leg firmer. Pushes in relentlessly, making you feel every inch of his thick cock, as he always does, until you can’t take anymore.

Fully speared on his length, you can hardly move. You hold your arms in front of you, crossed over your naked chest. Facing him feels too intimate, especially when he starts rolling his hips leisurely, and his desire matches your own. Desire which you, again, steadfastly try to ignore.

You have never been quite this close to him. You can see fine lines under his eyes-- age and perhaps stress. There are a few streaks of grey-white hair at his temples that you somehow hadn’t noticed before. The smell of wool and starch, and less familiar, his natural scent, something crisp and wintry from someplace distant and unknown.

You close your eyes to all of it-- to him-- but he immediately orders you to open them again. He pulls your arms away from your chest. “I want you here…” -- your name in his stern voice sends another shock of arousal straight to your core-- “Not off in your own fantasy.”

“Yes, Thrawn.” You respond without really thinking.

He gives a low sound, almost a growl. “Touch yourself. Show me how you like it. I want to feel it when you make yourself cum.”

“B-but… I haven’t since… I don’t.”

He doesn’t stop moving. You’re close again, already. It’s an effort to defy him, and not slip a hand down your body to rub at your clit.

“If you’d like to test yourself again, perhaps we can make it a month. Or three. Do you think you could last that long?” He sounds casual, though you have no doubt he would follow through on the implied threat. The idea of it amuses him, to have you aching and desperate. “The very first time I fucked you, you could hardly restrain yourself.” He arches over you, his mouth close to yours, his hips rolling lazily.

So full. So full of his cock and it feels exquisite.

All this time you’ve denied yourself, and now the lingering effects of it make you dangerously suggestible. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t force the issue sooner--

He dips his head, kissing your collarbone. It feels too close to making love, you wish he wouldn’t--

Perhaps he meant for things to go this way.

He expected your disobedience and refusal, and let you take yourself to the point of desperation. Only now can you see how expertly he’s manipulated you.

You find yourself arching to his mouth, wanting him to lick your breasts, to bite, to bruise. His fingers dig into your thigh, marks you’ll find tomorrow.

His hand moves down your body. His fingers slip on the slick flesh where his body meets yours. You can feel how huge he is, your pussy stretched around him, the intrusion of his cock making room where there is none.

He has already taken from you once, and it was not enough.

“Please… please…”

He keeps going with his thumb on your clit, stringing you along to another orgasm. Fucking you slowly. Fucking into all the spots he knows make your breath hitch, make you keen his name. Everything about you, all at his leisure.

He watches, expression intent, calculating. “You’re doing so well, ” He muses softly. “You may not have learned yet, but your body has.” His voice like silk, praising you in the most obscene terms. He strokes your hair off your face, sweat-damp. “You’re shaking, little one.“

The endearment drives you higher. You run your hands over your body, grab your breasts, roughly pinch and squeeze your nipples, rolling them to stiff little buds. Your skin is burning, all over, superheated with arousal.

“You felt… sweet… that first time. Scared, yet pliant. As you do now. It was for the best, I think, that you were separated from the rebellion. They didn’t come looking for you. They didn’t need you. And now, you have a true purpose.”

Your breath catches, need and tension spiraling tighter and tighter. You want him to say it, and you’re terrified that when he does, you’ll agree.

You try to spread wider, like that’s all you were ever made for, taking his cock, pleasing him.

“That is what you want to hear, isn’t it. That’s what you are, a little thing for me to play with. You like it. You like the thought of offering yourself up for me to fuck whenever I want. Happy to simply be… of use.”

Thrawn’s expression darkens, pure, stark lust written on his angular features as he feels you start to tip over the edge. His glowing red gaze transfixes you, and as pleasure rises up to engulf you, filling your senses, drowning you, all you can manage is “yes”.

And there it is.

Shame and desire and heat all coil inward for a heart-stopping moment— and then burst, an explosion of white hot pleasure from your core, up your spine, down your limbs. It makes you clench around him, hard— he moans a curse, his grip on your leg tightening, makes his shaft feel even bigger. He fucks you through it, his strokes deep and measured, holding himself back just barely.

You cling to him, grabbing at his arms and shoulders to anchor yourself. Whimpering and panting softly as it courses through you, swelling and subsiding. Gradually, you come down from it. Come back to yourself. Everything feels heavy, tired. The thread of it is still a dull pulse, aching between your legs.

You are much too sensitive now, and his cock feels much too big. You try to push him away, which earns you another smack on the thigh.

Be still. Don’t struggle, don’t argue. “I have no more patience for your bratting today,” he says, his normally cool voice strained with lust, his accent stronger than you’ve ever heard it before. “Be good. I’ve given you what you needed, since you refused to take care of yourself.” He picks up his pace, driving into you steady and deep.

You whine in protest, squirming at the intense overstimulation. And when you look down your body you can see where his cock fits inside you, making your stomach bulge with each merciless thrust. Thrawn’s gaze slides down from your face to your hand, when you reach down to flatten your palm against your stomach. You gasp quietly, feeling him like that, and the sight of it seems to flip a switch for him.

He gathers you in his arms, holding you to him so he can stroke into you fully. There is a wildness, now, to him, under the barest veneer of civility and control. You cling to his shoulders, feeling so little in his embrace, like a doll.

You’re taking all of him, easily. Your climaxes have left you slick and yielding and open, and the Grand Admiral claims his due, pounding into you, absolutely owning one of your holes… A feverish thought comes to you, that you’d like him to fuck you in all of them, like he has talked about before.

The low ache of arousal blooms again, though it is too sharp, too much of a sensation for your mind to process. Your nerves are buzzing, bright with overstimulation, it all makes his cock feel thicker, harder, hotter. This is for him. Despite your discomfort, you want to be good for him.

He is breathing hard, jagged, and the slap of flesh on flesh fills the chill, sterile air of his office. Behind him, you see out the viewport, a field of stars and black space.

His comm chimes once, and again a minute later. He ignores it. The third time, he answers it, crisp and professional, not missing a beat as he continues his driving thrusts. “Yes, Captain. What is it?”

To your ultimate humiliation, you start to clench and flutter around him, the beginnings of another climax, and you can’t keep your little whimpers and gasps quiet.

Thrawn eyes you, desire written plainly on his face even as he gives clipped orders over the comm. When he shuts the link he throws the comm aside, it drops off the edge of his desk with a clatter. He pays it no mind. He adjusts, putting both of your knees bent to your shoulders, pinning you open under his hard-muscled weight, fucking you as hard as he wants.

You tremble around him, the position and the onslaught of sensation making you so, so tight you nearly push him out. The intensity of it all hangs in a precarious balance, tipping to pain, to pleasure, to pain. Too much. He adjusts again, grinding deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you, makes you cry out, unbearably tight and sensitive.

He cums before you get there, his eyes slip shut, his mouth parting with an almost-silent moan. His whole body goes rigid in a strong, aching surge of release. He grasps and re-grasps your legs, movement stuttering as his cock flexes and twitches and fills you with his cum, spilling all of his stress and irritation until he’s gasping, almost vulnerable in his pleasure. And then he’s slowing again, pumping into you, languid and sated as his breathing evens out.

You stay very still. This feels different. New. For all the Grand Admiral keeps from you, he allowed you to see this. To see him. You wonder if it was a lapse. Perhaps a mistake, carried away in the moment.

Your thighs are sticky with his cum, flushed pink in a way that draws his eye. He lets his cock slide out of you, slick and heavy, still hard, and shiny with your arousal. Empty, you clench around nothing. It pushes some of his cum out, and that too seems to fascinate him. All the marks he’s left on you, evidence of his enjoyment and what he’s claimed.

He scoops some of his spend with his fingers, pushes it back inside your cunt. You watch him do it, watch his face. Hold his gaze as he does it again, but the second time puts his fingers at your asshole, tracing gently, letting you feel the touch as he runs the tips of his fingers lightly over your sensitive hole.

“Thrawn—“ you nearly choke on his name, not sure if you mean it as a warning or a plea.

He works one in, wet and sticky, penetrating the tight ring of muscle, then a second finger, moving it slowly. He doesn’t try to open them or widen you. Just massages, pumping in and out leisurely.

“You like it when I fuck you here,” he says softly, quietly curious at the very idea of it. There is no threat in it. No accusation or aggression. “Though… it will take time to get you ready for more than my fingers.”

You can only moan in response. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubs tender little circles that have you panting, trying to rut his hand. He lets you, plunging his fingers deeper, to the knuckles. No one except him has ever touched you here. Even in your own private explorations you had never been brave enough beyond the tip of one finger. It had felt good, those few times. Forbidden, but intriguing.

The push and pull of it is exquisite, your hole gripping the invading fingers so tightly he can’t go any faster. He feels it too, comments on it. Says it will feel even better with his cock stretching you open there. He always seems so sure of what he tells you. It isn’t an idle boast or promise.

He lowers his mouth to lay kisses up your breastbone and then your breasts. With his free hand he smooths over your skin, your waist, your ribs. Catches your nipple to pluck and roll roughly between his fingers, the only way you can stand to be touched there.

He takes you apart like this, uprooting any last remnant of your resistance, making you forget your doubt and self-loathing until he has you writhing and crying and begging him over and over--

“Gods please, Thrawn, please, please, I’m going to--”

Release tears through you. A terrible, searing pleasure that has you wanton and shameless, arching to his mouth and spasming around his fingers. He fucks them into your ass, hard and deep, his thumb keeping up just the right pressure on your clit. The waves of your climax roll through you, stronger than your will, stronger than anything. All you can do is hold on to him, ride his hand as you vaguely register his cock, still hot and hard, pressed against your thigh. He encourages your moans, seems to like them, seems to like how well you take what he deigns to give you, and for a moment you imagine spending the rest of your life this way, used and fucked as the mood strikes him and there’s a new rush of heat between your legs at the very thought.

He soothes you as you come down from it, takes his hand away when he’s satisfied you’ve had enough. He’s made a mess of you, again, this time a shivering ruin, fucked out and exhausted. Your face is blotchy, streaked with tears. You take shaky breaths. All the tension that had accumulated has been burnt away. You feel clear. Purified. And you only had to submit yourself to Thrawn to get here.

☆join tag list☆ <- this is the easiest way to make sure your request is recorded, however anyone is also welcome to dm me if they want to be added or removed.

@thrawns-babygirl @vibratingskull @thrawns-teef-weef @aethersecho @exoplorationn @elc3004 @littlecrowtime @twilekchiss @saber-slutt @projectdreamwalker @ele-millennial-weirdo @vaarians @shoe-bag @thrawnspetgoose @nomercyforthewarrior @pb-jellybeans @twincesskorisoka @jewelliffer @cecilyjmorgenstern @mandinlore @bobaprint @bluechiss @andrakass2 @nocturneabyss @starwh0ers @obbicrystaleo @pencil-urchin @shoebag @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @laorme34 @bmarkit @holamor

#grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn fic #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn/reader #thrawn/you

35 notes · View notes

shepscapades · 1 year ago

Text

I have two minds to answer this, because part of me is going 'WE GOT EM!!! WE GOT EM!!' While the other part of me is like 'oh god how do I tell them. Who’s going to tell them.' The easiest way I can explain: Tom, Ben, and Harry are not in a minecraft series together, and the lore that I have for them is not based in any actual series. HOWEVER. DON’T LET THE TRAGIC TRUTH MAKE YOU CLICK AWAY /silly so I can explain properly LMAO

Here’s a TLDR for anyone who likes these guys and is a lil interested in them!!

Most of the lore for these three is based on an amalgamation of inside jokes, non-minecraft character trends, and general yogs minecraft world lore!

Tom was an editor (now has a YouTube channel, AngoryTom) and did behind-the-scenes minecraft prep for the Yogscast for so long that he was never really interested in any actual "main channel" series besides [Dig Site - 10 episodes] with Simon, Lewis, and Ben, and [Skyblock - 2 episodes] with Ben! Although he’s also played several npcs throughout various main channel series since he was helping run the show lol. My take on his character is that he’s a former yoglabs employee due to [YOGLABS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] and now lives his laziest life ever in an undisclosed remote location. He’s also the demigod of death but he’ll never tell

Ben started doing main series mc content a few years ago, but hasn’t done anything mc with Tom and Harry until recently (see below)! His character is a Shark Hybrid due to [YOGLABS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] who now lives with Tom at the same undisclosed remote location.

Harry has been an insane speedrunning minecraft legend for ages, but was never in any main series content bc he’s actually a graphic designer for the yogs. But he was part of Iskall’s twitch vault hunter event back in November, and he’s now in the [Vault Hunter Series - Ongoing] with Ben and Duncan on YouTube! <3 so there’s plenty of mc content of Harry and Ben, but not so much Tom. c!Harry has lived remote for as long as he can remember, locked in Hardcore, until…?

But again, I base their backstories on a bunch of kinda loosely connected lore dots that are half based on jokes <3

Below the read more includes: links to clips, compilations, and very brief lore explanations (though you can check my other lore drawings in Tom’s tag (#Angory Tom), Ben’s tag (#bedgar), Harry’s tag (#brryhrry) or posts that have any of them, which should be under the (#the outcast trio) tag)!

BEN AND TOM

I’ve been in love with Ben and Tom as a duo forever, since the TTT (modded Trouble in Terrorist Town) days, where Ben’s player model was Left Shark, and Tom’s model was Emperor Palpatine (yes from Star Wars. I can’t stand them). But Ben and Tom have been yogs editors and Behind The Scenes guys forever, so it wasn’t until more recently that they became known personalities in the main yogscast circle (4-5 years is pretty recent in the 10+ years of yogs content timeline LMAO).

Through Warhammer streams and behind the scenes stuff, I kinda fell in love with their chemistry and idiocy, and they worked so well with the “main cast” that I just had to put them in the yogs minecraft universe, somewhere. Turns out, Tom had actually done a majority of the "behind the scenes" work for the Yoglabs series (he built a majority of the main building, did mod research and testing, was present during recordings to make sure things went well, stuff like that) so it only made sense to have his character be the Right Hand Man/ Behind The Scenes Assistant to Xephos (Lewis), the Morally Questionable Head of Yoglabs.

For anyone who’s unfamiliar with Yoglabs, it’s one of the yogs’ more famous series featuring Simon (Honeydew) and Lewis (Xephos) where they tested mods! more info can be found here!

c!Tom also ended up as a Lumian (the fanon alien space species for the yogs fandom, vaguely inspired by Star Trek Vulcans) because of a one-off joke where one of the Yogs artists drew him as a star trek commander, and I really didn’t need any further reason to make him a weird little guy LDKFJG

As far as the “demigod of death” thing goes, it felt right to give him a lore thing that vaguely coordinated with the whole “Emporer Palpatine” vibe, since that’s kinda the mc skin he’s used most recently. There’s another reason there that I don’t think I’ve properly explained, so I’ll leave the rest of that be for now ;]

Ben, on the other hand, plays a shark character in pretty much every video game he ever participates in, so shark hybrid was a pretty obvious way to go. And of course, since the duo had to be in the same place… involving Ben’s shark Hybrid-ness with yoglabs experimentation made good sense and good angst. What can I say :]

Here are the bigger lore posts I’ve made so far (in the order i posted them i believe!), explaining in a little more detail plus art to go with! :] [x] [x] [x]

HARRY

Harry is kinda known as the yogscast’s token memelord? But in the ironic way. He somehow makes it genuinely hilarious idk man. His humor is very dry, witty, and sarcastic, but he’s a sweetheart and kind of a god at minecraft. I’ve been arguing since day one that this man should be in mcc but we won’t go there

There aren't many solo harry compilations, so here's a link to a Harry and Ben compilation hehe

Regarding his minecraft lore, pretty much all of it is based around the idea that he’s a god at speedrunning and hardcore Minecraft. A common consensus in yogscast minecraft lore is that respawning is actually a Yoglabs-based mechanic tied to clones and clone making. I thought it would be interesting if Harry could be tied to a hardcore element in the yogs lore purely by having Somehow slid under yoglabs’ radar. And since he was never in any main channel (aka modded) series, i usually associate him with Vanilla mechanics, and since i also view mods as a Yoglabs-related lore element, it made sense! So basically— no clones, no respawns, no mods!

except that he’s in a main channel series now. So I’ll need to find a new lore reason around that DTBJDFGHK

And his design, well… this man’s skin is straight up Mr Mime, and there’s only so much I can do with that /silly But he’s a HUGE Pokémon fan! He’s played a couple of Disaster Nuzlockes with Lydia from the yogs a year or so ago, if that’s something you’re interested in! Was a huge comfort series for me for the longest time and rly good background noise, theyre soooo good at Pokémon I promise <3

Harry does more twitch stuff (hrry on twitch) than youtube stuff, so twitch is the best place to check him out if you're interested in his solo content!

Last thing I'll say about him is that he designed and ran an original minecraft minigame called "Capture the Wool" and he and Martyn are the hosts for a few episodes i think! i dont think there's any way to explain how entertaining it is to listen to him announce the chaos of yogs members trying to play competitive minecraft LOL

Um, so. TLDR…2, These guys are basically my ocs and now I get Actual minecraft content from them which is crazy. I love them as content creators and cool guys so so much though, so! Definitely recommend listening to these idiots (affectionate) babble and ramble to each other, mc or not <3

#yogscast #bedgar #angory tom #BrryHrry #hrry #ben #tom #the outcast trio #art escapades #sorry that's so long but my love for them is showing hehe #i haven't completed decided if i want the “the outcast trio” tag to be for posts with ANY of them or just ALL of them so --#if you have a preference feel free to lmk <3 #also feel free to lmk if you check them out :3 they are everything to the me!

155 notes · View notes

adragonsfriend · 5 months ago

Text

Shooting Anakin like Padmé

So I've mentioned this before, but for most of ROTS, Padmé is shown pretty much only in her own apartment, and she's only allowed to leave to (1) go to see Anakin to tell him about the baby, (2) go to the Senate to deliver an (admittedly devastating) line about Palpatine declaring himself Emperor, and then (3) go to Mustafar to find Anakin. Besides those times, the camera only looks at her when Anakin goes to see her in her apartment, or when Obi-Wan goes to her apartment to see her about Anakin.

This relegation of Padmé to the domestic sphere--even if it's less obvious in that it's not a cooking or cleaning domestic space--is strange for a character who is obviously active and present in the previous movies. Why isn't she in the Senate building before the last scene? Why doesn't she have an office? Paperwork to do at least? Why don't we see her preparing to give birth? Hell why can't she and Anakin just talk somewhere else for once?

The answers to these questions are not ones I'm going to bother with right now. Whilst they are probably complex and interesting on some level, ultimately, they largely start and end with and "the narrative stopped being interested in its main female character other than in how she affects its male lead." Instead, I'd like to demonstrate how stupid it is by imagining ROTS scenes if Anakin was shot the same way Padmé is.

Rescuing the Chancellor

Start by cutting the whole space battle and rescue. We open on Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Palpatine returning to the ground and being greeted by the Senators and the press. Padmé pulls Anakin aside as in the movie. Since we didn't get to see Anakin execute Dooku, Anakin summarizes those events to Padmé, during which he tells her that he's not sure he should've killed Dooku and that he's afraid Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him. Padmé avoids confronting/is distracted from this revelation by her own news--she's pregnant. Continue the scene as written, with Anakin dismissing her worries to tell her to be as happy as he is.

Impact

Because it would probably reveal too much plot-wise for Anakin to tell Padmé that Palpatine directly ordered him to execute Dooku, this would deeply minimize how much Palpatine has over Anakin's decision making, as well as obscure how Dooku being executed even happened when Obi-Wan should've been right there to stop him (audience has no idea he was knocked out). Also, the audience would not see Anakin disagree with Palpatine to save Obi-Wan, and would therefore be deprived of the understanding that Obi-Wan is important to Anakin.

Even if all of this information was included in Anakin's summary of events, it would replace all of the showing done in the rescue scenes with telling, thereby destroying all of the emotional weight the audience experiences actually witnessing the events.

Appointment to the Council & The Opera

Instead of seeing Anakin talk to Palpatine and Obi-Wan, and throwing his fit to the Council, we instead get Anakin sitting in his quarters in the temple after the council meeting. He gets angry, standing up and pacing the room, talking to either himself or R2-D2 about how annoyed he is about not being made a master and that Obi-Wan would ask him to spy on Palpatine.

Instead of Anakin sitting with Palpatine in the Opera, we are treated to another scene of him in his quarters, this time we see him in his quarters, reading some texts, maybe muttering about trying to find the story Palpatine told him about.

Impact

Instead of seeing Anakin being manipulated, being inept at politics, his inability to manage his emotions in front of the Council, the tension of his argument with Obi-Wan about spying, and the way he's immediately drawn in by Palpatine's story about darth Plageuis, we just get him pitching a fit in private. Pitching a fit in private is a pretty reasonable thing to do--most people do it at some point--and so on top of doing nothing to show any of his interpersonal relationships with Obi-Wan, the Council, or Palpatine, it also shows very little of the complete breakdown he's headed toward.

Order 66

Instead of seeing Anakin go into the Temple, leading the clones, we are instead shown him getting dressed in his new sith cloak, which matches Palpatine's.

Impact

The audience gets none of the horror of seeing Anakin about to kill people. They only gain the information that he killed the Jedi children when Obi-Wan tells Padmé--there is none of the symbolism of him being shown to kill that one kid who looks just like his younger self. It reduces a horrific act and character decision to less than a news headline, and--especially with Padmé's later denial about it--makes it sound like more of a rumor than anything.

Mustafar

After Anakin puts on his new sith cloak, we cut to him on a ship to Mustafar. Only it's not his fighter, it's a ship large enough to have sleeping quarters, or maybe a kitchen. We see Anakin in one of those two spaces, again pacing, but this time he has set his lightsaber on a table, and keeps glancing at it agitatedly. On arrival, he picks it up and leaves the ship. Cut to him announcing over comm to Palpatine that the Separatist leaders are dead, without showing any of the killing involved. Then he sees Padmé landing and goes to greet her.

Then, keep the strangling Padmé and dueling Obi-Wan the same as the movie.

Impact

Now imagine seeing that final duel after an entire movie in which we have hardly seen Anakin and Obi-Wan interact, never seen them fight together, and only witnessed Anakin draw his saber once, to cut off Mace's hand in one wild swipe. It wouldn't mean nearly as much. We wouldn't know where Anakin suddenly got all these crazy lightsaber skills from--it would be crazy that he can go toe to toe with Obi-Wan who we just saw fight Grevious. We wouldn't know that Obi-wan's death was something Anakin would've died to prevent only days earlier.

Overall Impact

While some of these altered scenes do have potential to communicate some important things about Anakin (staring at lightsaber = guilt, picking it back up = choosing violence), on their own, they fail to tell his story well, and give little depth to his character.

He doesn't really talk to anyone on screen -> seems like a total loner who doesn't talk to anyone but Padmé. What do you mean Obi-Wan is supposed to be his best friend-brother-dad-teacher? (Why does Obi-Wan say he loved Anakin at the end or bother to personally look over Luke?)

Anakin doesn't really do anything for anyone but himself -> what do you mean he's supposed to have been a caring person who was corrupted?

Anakin is called a General and a war hero, but we never see him lead troops or even fight -> was he just given the title to make him seem more important?

Anakin and Palpatine only interact for like two seconds -> why does Anakin believe him about the Sith story or follow his orders to commit atrocities?

Anakin doesn't have any strong feelings about the Jedi, positive or negative (let alone both simultaneously) -> why do we care that he betrayed and killed them? why didn't Palpatine just let the clones do it?

Basically, it makes him seem stupid and inactive, and completely fails to show the audience his ongoing struggle with violence and torn loyalties, unless of course the audience is willing to go to lengths to imagine the depth he might've had if the narrative had prioritized him a little more.

There's lots of fic and meta that does that for Padmé, but the movie itself does not force the average view to see her as anything but Anakin's girlfriend who loves him more than anything, for some reason (he's pretty?) and is a Senator for some reason (she talks about politics for a minute?).

Like, I'm being a bit reductive, but all the scenes I cut of Anakin doing violence? Those are the equivalent of Padmé doing politics. All the interactions with Obi-Wan, Palpatine, and the Council? Those are Padme talking to other senators, her handmaidens, maybe even her parents. Anakin's mounting stress? That's a bit about Padmé seeing a doctor, worrying about her own health.

Padme isn't the main character, but she's not a side character either. The screen time she got could've been better used, even simply by letting her look busy when Anakin talks at her. ROTS makes her seem silly and inactive, and fails to show the audience the full depth of the ongoing conflict between her duty as a political power and her relationship with Anakin.

#star wars #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #revenge of the sith #star wars prequels #star wars meta #rewrite

24 notes · View notes

jarenka · 1 year ago

Text

I guess I need to make a time-travel au tag. Here it is.

And here are a bit of additional plot for it.

1) It becomes known that some separatist leaders including Dooku himself were working with the Chancellor of the Republic, they were declared traitors by a lot of members of CIS. Republic uses this situation to offer ceasefire. CIS has to agree because it's army at a disarray and one of their generals straight up tried to kill Dooku after calling him traitor. A lot of jedi returned to the Temple.

2) Anakin insists that Ahsoka needs a different master. She needs a "true" jedi, not him. He even tells her that he plans to leave Order. She doesn't want to change her master and pretty sure that Anakin will recover one day. "What if it takes years?", he asks. "Well, I still need to catch up with all these courses I missed because of war", she answers. Anakin still can't completely comprehend that they have a lot of time ahead of them. Ahsoka easily can spent next 7-8 years being his padawan.

3) Anakin tells Obi-Wan all his secrets because... Well, he has nothing to lose now, he already confessed to the Council that he joined Palpatine and killed numerous jedi. Obi-Wan is shocked to hear about Tusken massacre. When Anakin is telling everything Obi-Wan, he suddenly realises how fucked up was Palpatine's reaction to it. Yes, Obi-Wan is shocked and disappointed, and this reaction hurts Anakin (it's exactly what he was afraid of), but at least it seem honest. After being a Sith himself Anakin has more understanding of his relationship with Palpatine. Once he thought Palpatine just supports him. Now he see that Palpatine was buying his loyalty with dishonest "support". And he is angry at himself that he never thought of it when he was a young men.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #time travel au

140 notes · View notes

radiosummons · 2 years ago

Text

Real talk: Does the Jedi Order have a tax exempt status?

I know it's somewhat of a meme to make jokes about how the Jedi don't know how to pay taxes, or rather questioning whether they get paid or make any income at all. And, yes, this question is kinda dumb in the sense that whether the Jedi Order has tax exempt status or not, it doesn't effect the over all story or any actual SW lore in any way that actually matters.

I also know that tax exempt status works differently in other countries besides the US (yes, hello, I am American. I hate it here, too). But for the sake of taking this very dumb question at face value, would the Jedi Order:

1) Count as a religious institution in the eyes of Republic law?

2) If so, would their status as a religious institution have any impact on whether they attained tax exempt status from the Republic?

3) What standards and regulations would the Republic IRS have in place regarding tax exemption?

4) Do the Jedi even have an accounting department?

I would peronally argue that, yes, the Jedi Order is in fact a religious institution. On the account of the obvious connection to the Force and heavily coded (if not just downright) religious practices that the Jedi follow.

However, even if the Republic were to grant the Jedi Order the status of a lawfully recognized religious institution, I'm not sure if this would actually lead to them a guaranteed tax exempt status.

According to United States IRS standards and regulations, the Jedi Order could and would also be seen as a religious institution. However, one of the biggest stipulations for retaining tax exempt status is that the religious institution does not attempt to or make any influence on legislative or attempt to influence political campaigns.

(Palpatine voice: Ironic).

Now, if the Republic had similar stipulations, I would argue that, no, the Jedi do not get tax exemption. Mostly because one of the longest known duties associated with the Jedi Order is their role in assisting with galactic diplomacy. It would be literally impossible for them to not get involved in some capacity, especially when their aid is often directly requested (whether by a Republic aligned planet or not).

That being said, this is all going by the standards of the IRS. And at the risk of sounding too jaded, there are hundreds if not outright thousands of religious institutions in the US that should have lost their tax exempt status decades ago. And yet ....

Obviously, this all ultimately depends on what standards the Republic would theoretically have in place for situations like this. And while I would never actually want George Lucas--or any other writer for that matter--to attempt to give us a canon answer, I can't help but wonder.

Even if the Jedi Order was completely self-reliant--which I personally don't think is possible due to them, well, living on Coruscant for thousands of years-just as an example. It just doesn't make sense to me that the Jedi would limit themselves to only what they make in house when they could have easy access to other local businesses, ya know?--whose to say that they wouldn't still be required to pay for taxes like regular citizens?

The Jedi Temple, again, has literally been there for thousands of years. I don't think it's entirely out of the realm of possibility that the Republic wouldn't have sent their own SW IRS agent at least once to audit the Jedi Order.

I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if that Jedi Order would be given a slight form of tax exemption, but only if certain conditions were met. Like, I don't know, what if an official member of the local Coruscantii/Republic government were to make a direct request for the aid of the Jedi. Maybe they'd get a tax write off for all the transportation and housing (or vehicular damage) they'd acrue while on this government sponsored mission?

Or what about this? Business institutions in the US get tax write offs for charitable donations (which the fuckers exploit to hell and back, fuck me). I have to wonder if there was a point in time (maybe the early years of the ye Old Republic) where someone had to bring up the fact that a lot of what the Jedi do could count fall under charitable tax deductions. So if they wanted to continue taxing the Jedi Order, they'd probably have to change up the definition or something.

Idk, man, I'm sort of spit balling random thoughts at this point.

I'd also like to say that I believe the Jedi do, in fact, have an accounting department. Just to keep thing running smoothly in regards to the Temple budget and so on. It would be kinda hard to keep a place that big with that many occupants still around and for that long without having someone keeping a close eye on the Order's spending.

Mostly, though, I just find the idea of the Jedi being audited absolutely hilarious.

#star wars shitpost #sw shitpost #jedi order #jedi #jedi culture #sw lore #for real though #this is a dumb question #but i want to know what other people think #sw meta #i guess #i'm not an irs agent #i'm an insurance agent #so if i got something wrong #pls tell me #this is just a dumb idea #i've had floating in my head #for a while now

314 notes · View notes

grayishgiggles · 2 months ago

Text

Study Buddies

The General Education Development test…also known as the GED; that was what Peter 1 had plopped on his desk. Well, it wasn’t the actual test, but the giant $180 practice book he had purchased. While it originally felt like a poor financial decision to him, it would probably give him a better shot at a college acceptance than going into it blind. He turned a page, glancing at the next question. Peter 1 stopped halfway through as his thoughts got in the way. He glanced to the right of his desk, in which a small Emperor Palpatine LEGO figure stared back.

Usually Peter and Ned would spend their Sunday nights over the hulking textbooks, scribbling on flash cards and quizzing one another with the sound of a show in the background. At the time it was hectic—oftentimes the test they were studying for was the next day—but he would do anything to feel that again. All the little Peter could hear now was the humming of a rickety radiator in his apartment. It was too quiet…too lonely. He always hated studying alone.

But now was not the time to think about that stuff. He had his phone’s stopwatch ticking away.

Returning to the open book, he filled in the bubble on an answer, hopefully a correct one. He was too far behind to think twice. Just a few more problems left…and he could be finished on time.

Intermolecular forces? He should know that, right? He took AP chemistry.

A refractory period…he swore he knew that answer too.

Peter 1 bit his lip and put random answers down for those just so he could finish it. This was a practice test after all. The screaming alarm from his phone timer made him hit his knee against the desk when he jolted. “OW!” He was quick to silencing it.

And now…the moment of truth. Peter 1 held the page of completed answers between his fingers as he flipped to the back of the book for the correct ones.

Oof.

He didn’t do good.

Peter 1 slumped in his chair. He suspected his smarts would be a little rusty after not having school for a solid five months now. Nonetheless…he was disappointed in himself.

With a pout, the spider-man took his phone out and was greeted with a text from someone: Peter 2.

Why’s the old geezer up? Snorted Peter 1. He opened the text:

I just got a tingle that came through. Not sure where it’s from. Are you ok? Are you safe?

The littlest Peter’s heart fluttered. Oh come on…he didn’t wanna alert the big bear now, not over something so minute.

Peter 1’s thumbs hovered over the phone’s little keyboard. Maybe Peter 2 would think it was something else that caused the tingle. There was always a bank robbery or a building being damaged by a weirdly costumed villain anyways. No biggie.

So Peter 1 closed out of the message app, and turned his phone off. Setting aside the text, he picked up his pencil. Time for take two.

Thankfully this practice test was more merciful to him. Peter 1 felt he was flying through the first few pages. He caught himself grinning at one point. But he got confident too soon and ended up stuck on another science section problem.

How many damn systems were found in the human body again?! Was it seven?

A sudden woosh from behind made the hair on the back of Peter 1’s neck stand. He spun around to be met by that familiar portal.

God dammit.

He knew exactly who those two taller figures were in front of the orange pulsating gateway. Peter 2 and 3 stepped through, with the portal closing behind them. Their arms were crossed like dads watching a very intense baseball game.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Why did you leave me on read?” Peter 2 approached closer.

“Wh-?”

“Peter 3 says it’s bad news when someone leaves you on read!”

“Well I-I forgot to reply, I’m sorry.” Peter 1 pulled out a fake smile. “Everything’s alright.”

Peter 2 didn’t believe that, crinkling his eyebrows together. “Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes caught by Peter 3 leaning over the youngest’s messy desk. “Oh boy, what’s going on here?”

Peter 1 grimaced and closed the giant test book. “It’s…school stuff.”

“That’s a GED manual!”

“I know! I’m just-I’m just trying to study-!”

“Do you need any help?”

“I’m fine! It’s nothing!” Peter 1 held his hands up, silencing the concerned older brothers. They exchanged looks while Peter 2 knelt down next to him. “Look at me, bud.”

It took a lot for the littlest to finally meet his brother’s kind blue eyes.

“I don’t get the tingle for little things. Clearly this is important for you. Let us help.” Peter 2 gave a soft smile. “Studying alone isn’t fun.”

With a small sigh and a shrug, Peter 1 nodded. “Okay. Well…I-I dunno where to start.” He watched the middle brother pick up the giant manual and flip around the pages curiously. Peter 2 stood up to check it as well. “What section are you struggling with?”

The youngest looked down, ashamed that he was going to let these words leave his mouth. “Science.”

Peter 2 blinked. “Science?! Our best subject?” He asked, glancing at Three, his mouth ajar.

“Yeah I’m...not proud of it either.”

“Hey-Hey! It’s ok! You’re just, ya know, going through a lot…” Peter 3 mumbled with a sympathetic shrug. “I know I like using quiz websites a lot to study. You wanna try that?”

Peter 1 shrugged. Quizlets and Kahoot games didn’t do much for him.

“That’s cool, it’s cool. We’ll just…uhhhhh…” the middle brother glanced at Peter 2 for any ideas, surprised to see him so calm.

“I got some things we could try,” he craned his neck to look for something on the desk, “uhhhh…you got flash cards?”

The littlest blinked out of his sad daze. “Oh. Yeah, yeah I do.” After opening a drawer, he handed a multicolor pack to him and a pen. “I didn’t think of those, heheh.”

“Well,” Two clicked the pen a few times, “since the science section has different units it covers—chemistry, anatomy…”

“We could use the different colors for different units!” Peter 3 finished, stealing some from Two and making him glare playfully. “Care to ask next time?”

“No.” The middle brother stuck his tongue out, happy that the funny arguing made the little brother giggle. “Okay, Uno, it’s floor time.”

It had to take them at least an hour. Dozens of cards, written and unwritten, scattered about the hardwood and surrounded the trio. Peter 1 propped himself on his elbows as he wrote, kicking his legs, while Peter 2 sat crisscrossed, and Peter 3 laying on his side. Two’s pen died halfway through, but the man found a sharpie to make up for it.

“Ok ow, I need a break…” One tapped out, flexing his hand. “I’m gonna develop arthritis.”

Two chuckled. “If anyone’s developing arthritis, it’s me.”

“It’s ok, bud. We’re almost done!” Peter 3 held up his last two empty cards. “See?”

“Oh thank god! Ugh!”

“So should we come up with a reward system?”

Three paused his writing and raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

“I use a reward system when I study to keep me motivated,” stated the oldest, placing a newly written flash card in his “done” pile, “like when I get so many correct answers I add a minute to my TV time or something. It tends to help me. Maybe it’s worth a try!”

The now laying down Peter 1 held a thumbs up at that, “I dunno what would work though…” he sighed and dropped his hand.

Peter 3 cheered quietly as he finished his last card. That’s when it hit him. Nothing could stop the tall man’s smile from growing. “Hey Two…”

“Ye-wH??” The oldest’s arm was yanked, spinning him around, now in a huddle with Peter 3. He whispered, “what?”

“I just need you to hear me out.”

One’s eyes were closed initially, but the hushed whispering across the cards were too loud to be ignored. He sat up. “What’re you hiding from me?”

A pair of blue and brown eyes peeked up from their secret big brother meeting. “Nothing!”

“Then why’re you whispering?”

Both fell silent, then shrugged.

“If you’re thinking about water boarding me as a reward system, I won’t have it.” Peter 1 crossed his arms playfully.

“No no! It’s not that, I promise!” Three broke from the huddle with a chuckle. “It’s even better than that!”

“Then what is it?”

No words were said with what came next. One moment the little Peter was watching his brother exchange another look, then the next moment he was thrown into a mass tangle of limbs. If he knew better he would’ve assumed it was a hug, but he felt four hands grab at his extremities. This was no hug. All that could come out of his mouth was a “WAHHH!!”

The next thing he saw was his big brothers looking down at him. Three adjusted his seat on the boy’s legs as Two wrestled his arms above his head. “Oh noho no no no no no not this I know what you’re doing!!!” Squeaked out the captive.

“Then you know the rules: get a question wrong, and you’re tickled!” The oldest said, sitting on his wrists and grabbing his handful of flash cards. “Let’s start with an easy one…”

“Oh! Wait! Lemme do this one!” While the oldest flipped through his cards, Peter 3 had already found a good starter. The pink-faced Peter groaned once Three began reading:

“One of two or more alternative forms of a gene that arise by mutation, found at the same place on a chromosome.”

Peter 1 only smirked at the definition. “Easy! An allele.”

“Ya got it!” Peter 3 cheered, flipping to a new card. “Your turn, dos.”

“What’s the difference between prokaryotes and eukaryotes?” The oldest peered over his flash cards to smirk, only to be met with another smug look. “Oh come on now. You’re going too easy on me.”

“I guess you got it covered then, hm?” Two looked to Three. “Let’s hit the road! Looks like he’ll pass with flying colors!”

“You got it!” The two men loosened their hold as if they were going to free him.

“WAIT NO! I-I wanna study with you guys!” The panicked spidey grabbed at Two’s hand. “Just gimme harder questions!”

They chuckled as they settled down into pinning him. “Okay then, get a heavy hitter, Three.”

“Hmmmmmmm…” flip, flip, flip, went Peter 3. “Ah! Physics! You remember physics, right Peter 1?” To add to the teasiness, Peter 2 ever so evilly held his clawed hands over the boy’s underarms.

On the outside, Peter 1 was giving him daggers, but on the inside he was one teasy comment away from giggling like crazy. “…yes, I know physics.”

“Then this should be niiiiice and easy,” the lilt in Three’s voice did not help Peter 1’s composure, nor tingle. His spidey sense kept buzzing in his head.

“Can momentum be hidden to human eyes like how kinetic energy can be hidden as heat?”

Peter 1’s eyes bugged out. “What kinda question is that??”

“A physics question!”

“Alright uhh…ummm…” Peter 1 didn’t like how his brothers smirked down at him. “Ohohoh god.”

“Ten seconds.” Two stated.

“UHH UM..UH…” that’s when the giggles flew out like crazy. “Hehehehehe-!! I-IHIHihihi-! Uhuhuh-!”

“EHH! Wrong!” Peter 3’s fingers darted to his sides and squeezed. Peter 2’s pair of claws dug into his armpits at the same time. A shrill squeal leapt out of the youngster’s mouth. “The answer was yes AND no!”

“YOHOHOU ASSHOHOLE THAT WAS A TRICK QUESTION!!” He hiccuped. The attack let up only a few seconds later, but he could hear his brothers continue their snickering. “Shuhuhut up!! Next question!”

“Okahahay okayyyy…” The oldest cleared his throat. “H-Hohow about an anatomy question?”

“Fihineee…”

“Which artery is the main source of blood for the arm?”

Oh come on! Peter 1 knew this!

Not the ulnar artery or the radial one…no it was from the biceps. Biceps brachii. Something with brachii. Shit. Three’s wiggling his fingers. Shit shit shit what was it called?! Shit don’t look at him!! Stop wiggling your fingers!!

“Brachii artery??”

“Oooh…so close.” Two sucked his teeth with a curled up grin. “It’s actually riiight here.” His fingers wiggled down his bicep and earned a string of giggles. “EEheheHEHEY!”

“That’s the brachial artery! You were close!”

“What a shame!”

Peter 1 squealed at Three’s fingers getting his other bicep.

“DAHAhahammit I knew thAHAT!” Peter 1 tugged at his hands, but they didn’t budge. Two’s nimble fingers were beginning to drive him nuts though. They kept getting close to his armpit. “TWOHOSTAHP!”

“Did ya know that armpits are ticklish cause they have big arteries?” He stopped the teasing and swirled a finger in each hollow, loving the wriggles and cackles that came out of it. “SHUHUTUPSHUTUP!”

“Wow, I didn’t know that, Two!” Three jokingly added, watching the panting brother and reshuffling his cards. “Let’s see if he can get the next anatomy question, though.”

Sadly, he didn’t get that one correct either. It was over the series of arteries in knee joints. Of course Three picked knees.

“PLEHEHEASE-!” He snorted and threw his head back. “ITTICKLESSTAHAHAP!”

Two was struggling to keep him still. “I don’t think he hears you, buddy! Shouldn’t have gotten that answer wrong!”

“Did someone say something?” Three turned around innocently. His back was facing One and Two as he was kneading at his knees. “Oh! Does he want me to stop?”

“YES!”

“You could’ve just said sooo!” He cooed, the punishment halting. “What are you at right now… 1 to 2? Not a good score.”

“Nehehext question!”

And so the game continued.

“PFFTNAHAO WAIT WAHAIT I CHANGE MY ANSWER!”

Well, in the older brothers’ eyes, this was a game. They couldn’t pass up an opportunity to hear the baby bro laugh like a little hyena.

“Equilibrium!”

“Correct!”

“Wow, you’re like 11 for 8 now!”

“Shut uhuhup.”

Entertainment aside, Peter 1 started to get the hang of it.

A locked away part of One’s brain was starting to give now. His freshman biology class…his honors physics…thanks to his big brothers, he remembered what those classrooms looked like in the midst of desperately grabbing at lost vocabulary.

“External illiac?”

“EHH! Wrong!”

“BWAHAHA NOOO!”

Most of the physics stuff came back easily, but he didn’t have as much luck with anatomy. It kept giving his big brothers an excuse to tickle him in his bad spots.

“Which artery is the main source of blood for the arm?”

Peter 1 was recovering after another wrong answer when the question repeated. “W-Wahait…I know that one.” He took another breath. “B..Brachial artery.”

“Correct!”

“WOOO!!”

A relieved smile took over the boy’s face. “Oh thahank god…”

“See? You’re doing great!” Two cheered, pinching his cheek. “You hanging in there?”

“Y-Yeheah I’m okay.”

“Ya need a break? We’ve been at it for…” Three checked his phone. “30 minutes.”

“No I’m...I’m good! Let’s keheheep going!”

The fluffy haired brother and clean-cut haired brother shrugged at one another. “Alright then.”

The amount of cackles and squeaks diminished after each run through of the deck. There was always one or two questions that continued to stump him, but that only incentivized the little Peter to keep pushing forward.

This was helping him, a lot.

“Okay big man…final question.”

“Wh…really?” Peter 1 looked up.

Peter 3 nodded and smirked. “Get this question wrong, and we tickle you for 20 minutes!”

“Why???”

“Because you haven’t gotten a single question wrong this time around!”

The youngest spidey blinked. “…really?”

“You’ve made some real progress.” Two sounded genuine in his remark. “It’d be a shame if you got it wrong.”

“Wow. No pressure there.” One scoffed and smiled. “Okay, okay. Hit me.”

Three held up the single neon pink card and cleared his throat dramatically. “What is the correct sequence of blood flow?”

Peter 1 took a deep breath and thought for a second. “Pulmonary vein…left atrium…left ventricle…and aorta.”

…

Peter 2 and 3 were silent.

OH COME O—

“Correct!” They cheered in unison.

A loud sigh of relief came out from Peter 1. “Jeheheez you scared me!!!”

“Wanted to make it dramatic! Look at you, smarty!” The middle brother ruffled up his curly hair. “You did it!”

“Very proud of you, lil guy.” Two proceeded to climb off of his arms, and the youngest sat up. “C’mere!!” He was caught in between two pairs of arms. At least he was aware this was a hug this time.

“You won’t forget those answers now, right?” Three chuckled and looked down. “Right?”

Peter 2 glanced down as well. “One?”

The little Spider-Man’s smile had faded, replaced by a small frown. “Mmm.”

“What’s up, buddy?”

“I kinda…miss the tickles from the beginning of the game.”

Two and Three cooed, not in a teasing way, but in affection.

“You wanna have some tickle time then?” Three pulled away from the hug to make eye contact. He smiled at the blushing response he got. “Awwww someone deserves a lil tickle for studying!!” That comment sent him over. Now there was a flustered and giggling Peter 1 between the big brothers. Two practically melted.

“You’re sure right, Tres,” Two kissed the top of his head. “Let’s tickle him as celebration! Come on, One, lay down!”

“Nooooooo stahaaaaaap!”

“Come onnnnn!” The brothers cooed together, cheering softly when the kid obeyed. He was half laying down. He kept his legs to his chest anxiously. “Heyyy you’re hiding the good spots from us!”

“Then we just gotta dig!” Peter 2 growled, plunging his hands between where One’s legs and chest met, searching for his belly. He was very pleased at the loud squeaks that he got. “EENAHATTHAT GEHET OUT!”

“You want tickles? You get tickles!” Peter 3 didn’t hesitate to join, prying at his legs.

Eventually they cracked open the clam of Peter 1, grabbing for any tickle spot available to the two. The wild tickle attack had only just begun, but Peter 1 couldn’t be happier.

He’d have to use this study method for all his exams.

#minors dni #sfw tickle community #lee!peter1 #ler!peter2 #ler!peter3 #Spider bros #spider bros tickle #no way home tickle #ticklish!spiderman

19 notes · View notes