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#Star Wars: Aftermath
groundrunner100 · 3 months
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Happy Black History Month, Star Wars homies!
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aimmyarrowshigh · 5 months
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Panfandom Hanukkah Bingo 2023 @hanukkahbingo
H5. First Night - Snap Wexley @ AO3. Everyone else can keep their Life Day celebrations. Snap prefers this.
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mayhaps-a-blog · 2 years
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Finished the Aftermath fic I’ve been poking away at!
Featuring Conder and his relationship with Sinjir :)
Summary:
One day, Sinjir met a man who was too good for him and decided to keep him anyway.
We know that story.
One day, Conder met a man doing his best impersonation of an on-fire trash can and decided that that was the one he wanted.
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lightwise · 2 months
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Crosshair's Choice
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Fine. We'll do it your way.
I won't leave you this time.
I've made my decision.
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trapezequeen · 3 months
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Hunter being Omega’s Dad -> Aftermath (2/2)
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duketectivecomics · 6 days
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‘Jason was Duke’s robin’ ‘tim was dukes robin’ YOURE ALL FOOLS
Steph as dukes most formative robin is RIGHT THERE
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nateofgreat · 11 days
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You know, I wanted to make a post about how I'm glad that Galen Marek/Starkiller from the Force Unleashed got de-canonized. Because having a godlike force user whose neither Jedi nor Sith pop up to jump start the Rebellion out of nowhere really cheapens the Original Trilogy and Luke Skywalker's whole journey therein...
Then I realized Ahsoka's basically the same thing at this point.
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gingerbreadtost · 4 months
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kybercrystals94 · 2 months
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“Please don’t.”
Read here on Ao3!
Febuwhump 2024 | Day 19 | Prompt 19: “Please don’t.”
Rated: G | Words: 497 | Summary: Set during Season 1 Episode 1 “Aftermath” [Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega, *other Batchers mentioned*]
Crosshair has experienced headaches. More than his fair share with his optical enhancement. While they were never near as severe as Hunter’s over the years, he’d learned to take them in stride, work through the pain. But this time is different. It is insistent. A sharp, isolated pain that feels as though a blade is being driven through his skull. It’s putting him on edge.
Well, this and Hunter.
Hunter has been off since Kaller with his blatant disregard for their purpose. They were created to serve, not question orders because of political changes in the senate. Republic or Empire…it didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.
They’re soldiers. That hasn’t changed.
And now they’ve been arrested for treason. Because of Hunter. Because of that girl that stepped into their proximity at the most inconvenient time.
He sits down on the bench, digging his fingertips into the side of his head where the pain is driving him mad. He doesn’t notice that the girl sits down next to him until she speaks.
“You’re angry.”
He is caught off guard, glances down at her in surprise before catching himself. He sneers, “How perceptive.”
She is unaffected by his tone, staring up at him with a sad, deliberate gaze. “I know what you’re going to do, but please…don’t.”
“What do you know?” Crosshair asks sarcastically.
She takes the question seriously. “I know…it’s not your fault.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, a comforting touch. “You can’t help it.”
He is taken aback. Wants to ask what she means, what she knows. Because she does, he realizes. She knows something. She understands. He doesn’t know how or why, but she does.
He is taken away before he can ask.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
It’s excruciating at first; however, the pain goes numb. His mind goes numb. The sensation is better than the alternative. But it’s not.
Please don’t.
Crosshair is given back his armor, told his brothers escaped holding, and ordered to track them down. Arrest them. Rampart and Tarkin read his report from Kaller, they know it wasn’t his fault – it was Hunter’s decision. Hunter’s orders. Crosshair will be given leniency, as long as he continues to demonstrate his loyalty to the Empire.
He can do that.
He can do what Hunter couldn’t.
He can make his brothers understand that there’s another way, another path, besides the one they are blindly following Hunter down. Hunter is spiraling. Hunter doesn’t know, doesn’t understand.
Please…don’t.
It doesn’t take a genius to know where his brothers will go, to anticipate their plan.
But his brothers don’t listen.
They’re traitors.
To the Empire.
To him.
Please.
Don’t.
He shoots Wrecker.
Tries to shoot the others.
Not to kill. To incapacitate. He’d never kill his brothers. But these aren’t his brothers anymore. They are traitors.
Don’t.
Don’t.
Don’t.
Please.
They escape. Narrowly. Like they always do. Did. Together.
Apart.
He watches the Marauder leave him behind.
They left him behind.
The traitors. His brothers.
Please, don’t.
END
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groundrunner100 · 10 months
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HEY! DISNEY! IF YOU’RE LOSING MONEY, HERE’S AN IDEA FOR YOU!
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You should cut your Left-leaning losses, & FIRE Kathleen Kennedy’s stupid, worthless ass!
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thejedipost · 21 days
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These two. 🥹
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thechaoticfanartist · 1 month
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At least she didn't say skills
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spacewombatty · 6 months
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The day Obi-Wan died, a piece of Anakin went with him.
He'd grieved him the way the Earth grieves the sun in winter, a more apt metaphor because like the sun, he came back. When the sun returns, the ground celebrates it, relishes in the warmth and light as consistent as it had been at the beginning of time.
But suns had been nothing but cruel to him. Anakin remembered a time when he craved that warmth compared to the chilled void that was space. He remembered crouching in the corner, back to the metal hull separating their cots to the ship's beating heart, until Obi-Wan had tugged at his sleeve and brought him back to bed.
The next time he'd return to Tatooine, it would be to deliver his mother's body home. He'd stopped associating himself with that desert wasteland soon after, didn't bother visiting his surviving relatives when they'd left her to rot. They could die there, for all he'd cared. They probably would.
The Knight hadn't felt a rage akin to that since the day Rako Hardeen shot a hole through his Master's chest. Anger came easier when the enemy was a stranger. Now, it just felt like punishment.
Heat. Hot. Cruel. Obi-Wan was alive, and Anakin's temperature ran a high as the sand under the desert sun.
The man's profile stood out strong against Coruscant's skyline, features prominent and doused in shadow as he recounted what he'd managed to find on his mission. It had been an overwhelming success. His death had been entirely convincing in attracting the attention of Moralo Eval, Obi-Wan's high-standing status as a senior Jedi a worthy enough wager to outweigh suspicious and favor respect in the Republic Prison. His Master had the Council's full approval, and that was a wager heavy enough to outweigh Anakin's.
"Your death was most convincing," Plo Koon commented, voice crackling through the holocom.
Obi-Wan paused. "I'm not the one to thank for that."
Anakin had left before he could be formally dismissed, and his Master hadn't stopped him.
Anakin wanted desperately to hate him. He wanted Obi-Wan to beg for his forgiveness, for ruining something perfect they'd had together. He wanted to hate him for lying, for letting him grieve, for using Anakin like a pawn and then pushing him to the side when he was no longer needed. He wanted to hate him for taking away the last piece of home the Knight felt he had left.
But the war would and did continue along without them, and the months after were akin to grieving a second death. Anakin grieved the way his Master's gaze made his skin crawl, the way it made him want to break. Obi-Wan was infuriatingly calm, as unshakable as a tree braving the wind of the storm, and Anakin wanted to grab him and make him scream just so he wasn't alone, just so he would admit he felt the distance between them as potently as the Knight did. He wanted to drag Obi-Wan into the guilt, the hurt, the loss that he'd left his best friend alone in. He wanted Obi-Wan to say he was sorry.
Time eventually eroded away the sharper edges of their broken halves. By the time their wounds had healed, they just didn't fit together anymore.
The day Obi-Wan died, a piece of Anakin went with him. It would be the only part of him his Master got to keep.
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trapezequeen · 3 months
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Hunter being Omega’s Dad -> Aftermath (1/2)
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my-star-war-sblog · 6 months
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When people talk about Order 66 and the tragedy of it all, they usually talk abt the immideate happening of it or the short- to midterm aftermath of it. Ofcourse this is totally valid and I completly get it, but I also think the long term aftermath makes it even more of a tragedy.
By longterm aftermath I am talking about how history will remember it. How future generations will think and learn about it.
The jedi already had all their culture, historical records and most (if not all) of the important artifacts destroyed, and the clones barely had any to beginn with.
By the time of the First Order, the Clone Wars are a distant memory, the Jedi a tale. And while that in of itself is already bad enought , the little history that people do know will never know the true happenings.
For all the galaxy knows the clones just turned on their close friends and allies before supporting the Empier. The clones are probably remembered as cannon fodder at best, as flesh droids at worst.
Tales of the Jedi talk about their kindness, their compassion. They talk about how they were whipped out. But the tales of the clones ? They are seen as soldiers only. Cold. Harsh. Blindly obeying.
They didn't do the good they did because of their personality, they did it because they were ordered too. And when new orders came they switched immideatly.
Their bonds with their jedi, their struggles, their pains, the way they were enslaved by the Empier- all not remembered.
The galaxy will forever remember the clones at the murderers of the Jedi. And that makes it all even worse.
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totes-tubulardude · 2 months
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I was having some post Padawan Lost and Wookie Hunt feels so I decided to give a lil snippet from the after math in my au :)
Ahsoka felt Fives’ bright and ecstatic presence before she saw him. By the time he shoved through the blast doors to the hangar he already had to duck to avoid the ceiling. Upon laying eyes on her he let out a cheer and charged towards her.
With each step he seemed to grow taller until he was right in front of her. He crashed down to his knees to hug her, lifting her off the ground completely. 
She let out a breathless laugh as he squeezed her, she was grateful for the pain medication the Jedi healers had given her for her bruised ribs and claw marks.
“You scared the osik out of us commander.” He told her. “If you ever do that again I swear to the Maker.” 
Ahsoka huffed a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I don’t plan on it any time soon.”
“Alright, Fives let her down so the rest of us can see her.” Jesse barked.
Fives lifted one hand to flip his brother off but gently set her back down onto the floor. She was quickly swept up into another embrace by the scout. Over Jesse’s shoulder she saw that Rex had taken up a place beside her master. He was standing formally but had a small smile on his face as he watched her. She also noted that he was currently a couple inches taller than Anakin. 
Fives hadn’t regained enough control to fully shrink back down to his regular size so he stayed seated on the floor as she recounted what had happened to her. 
-
Ahsoka followed Rex to his office and private bunk, occasionally stopping to greet a trooper as they went. The force rang with happiness and relief throughout the barracks, they really had missed her after she’d been taken. That knowledge made her warm inside. 
Rex palmed the door open, quickly shucking off his vambraces and chestplate as she leaned out to wave to Ridge. 
As soon as she stepped into the room and shut the door, she was swiftly swept up into another embrace. The sound of a desk sliding across the floor and the clang of something heavy hitting the durasteel wall filled the room as Rex’s oversized knees shoved furniture out of the way. One arm supported her while his other hand was wrapped around her middle as he clutched her to his chest. Only now did she see how tightly he’d been keeping his emotions under control seeing as he was large enough to completely fill the room now that they were alone. 
She flung her arms across his chest. 
“I’m alright Rex, I’m here.”
She felt his head shake next to her. 
“We looked for you for days vod’ika, but all we found were your kriffing lightsabers. We didn’t know where you were or what had happened or if you were even still…” his voice faltered and his hand around her clenched. 
She pushed back enough to see his face. 
“I survived. Thanks to Anakin and to you all, if you hadn’t trained with me as much as you all have, I don’t think I would have made it. But I did and I helped two other padawans make it home to.” Ahsoka attempted to keep her face straight as Kalifah’s face flashed to the front of her mind. “So thank you Rex, for all you’ve done for me.”
The captains force signature sang as he tucked her back against his shoulder.
Ahsoka let the the warmth around her seep into her mind and calm her, the part of her brain that had been on survival mode finally relaxed and a bone-deep tired took its place. 
“Are you going to let go anytime soon?” She asked around a yawn.
“No.” Rex answered. “Not after that karkshow.”
“Good because I think I’m too tired to stand.”
His chuckle rumbled through her whole body. 
Slowly the ache in her middle began to make itself present again. She winced when Rex’s thumb ran over her side, right over a couple of claw marks courtesy of the trandoshans. 
He must have felt her tense because his grip quickly loosened. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, pulling her back a little bit. 
“I’m fine, just a few parting gifts from the Trandoshians.” She told him with a sheepish smile. 
His Force signature flashed with rage as he carefully set her back down onto the floor. When she stumbled he was quick to fit his hand back around her middle to keep her upright. 
“What happened?” He asked.
-
Mando’a trans:
Vod’ika: little sibling
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