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gffa · 11 months

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Thinking about this scene and, sure, it's a reference to the line "a more civilized age" in the original trilogy but also I really fucking love it as a metaphor. The Jedi are known for using their lightsabers, the weapon that is nearly synonymous with them, the one that takes a lifetime of training and the kind of precision that can only come from someone using the Force, that a lightsaber is a constant reminder that a Jedi must have care with everything they do because of their abilities, the things they can do. There's a reason the story group commented that, almost any time a lightsaber ends up in the hands of non-trained Force-sensitives, it ends badly. Here you have the final fight of the clone wars, this is General Grievous, this is the end of this war that has dragged them all through hell for the last four years, Obi-Wan was specifically sent because, with Dooku dead, Grievous was the last one standing that could rally the Separatists, this was it, this was the end. This is how the Clone Wars ends--with a Jedi stripped of his precise, controlled weapon and grasping for a less than perfect solution because this needs to finally fucking be over, he needs to goddamned finish this. I love this as a metaphor for the Jedi's position in the war--if Obi-Wan doesn't grab that blaster, Grievous is going to hit him with that Electrostaff and he's going to die. His lightsaber is flat-out not an option. The Jedi's choices are whittled down to: Imperfect solution or die. So he chooses the imperfect solution because it's better than death, it's better than letting Grievous go, and there's still so much to be salvaged from this. He doesn't use his Jedi weapon, but it's not like he's suddenly no longer a Jedi because of it, he will still be a Jedi at heart and will still go back to doing his best to hold up their ideals. This is why Lucas says, "Are [the Jedi] going to stick with their moral rules and all be killed, which makes it irrelevant, or do they help save the Republic?“ (Star Wars Archives 1999-2005) I like this moment as a metaphor because I see it as illustrating the point of the Jedi's involvement in the war: It's not perfectly the Jedi way, it's them stripped of their preferred methods, but the heart of the reasoning is the same, that if they don't fight, if they don't take the less shitty option, then everyone dies. Obi-Wan ending the war with a blaster rather than a lightsaber, because it was either that or die, is a fun callback to the OT, but also shows the two paths placed in front of them, the lack of options available, and just what exactly was on the line.

#obi wan kenobi #general grievous #jedi order #meta

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unpresidentedbullhonkey · 22 days

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Star Wars Incorrect Quotes as things my husband and I say to each other. (Other people thrown in)

Anakin, working on a speeder- Hand me the drill

Padme- Is that the one that looks like a blaster, and spins, or is that the stick that you twist?

Anakin, in disappointed shock- Didn’t your father own a construction business?

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Obi-Wan- I can never find my name on any of the gift store keychains

Cody- Yeah, that’s because your mom wanted to be “different” before it was cool

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Rex- Is this the reason you didn’t want to go see the Barbie movie with me?

Anakin, on the other side of the comm with Padmé talking about seeing Oppenheimer together- No, Rex to be honest that was a completely different reason

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Quinlan- You know what I think that may have been my fault

Obi-Wan - Oh is someone finally realizing actions have consequences?

Quinlan, deadpan- Don’t you have an illegitimate child?

(We have yet to confirm or deny if this guy is or is not the father but honey physical genetics are hard to deny)

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*Loud fart noise coming from Anakin’s side of the comm call* Anakin- Sorry I moved the mic too close to my clothes must’ve made a noise

Rex, used to it- I didn’t know cotton could shit itself

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Anakin- My friend once cooked a space raccoon he found on the side of the road. It was pretty kriffen good

Obi-Wan, appalled- What kind of people did your mother let you spend time with?

Anakin- Yea well she didn’t know about this friend

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Padme- You can’t cause any fights I know you don’t like him but it’s the kids birthday. Just keep things civil

Sabe- sure but I can promise you the mug will be meaning

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Anakin- You know I think you could take one thing from this moment

Obi-Wan- That you’re dumber than you look?

Anakin- Okay correction, you can take two things from this moment

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Anakin, madder’n hell- ion know whotha fuck ya think ya are but I’ll tell ya righ nowh I’ll beat yer ass back to Jesus if I’m needin ta

Rex, under his breath- Darn Tootin

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Obi-Wan- None of my relationships have been healthy

Anakin- yeah the older I get the more I realize I’m a victim

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Ahsoka helping Obi-Wan clean Anakin’s room- Shouldn’t we ask him before we do this?

Obi-Wan, full body laughing- Grab the trash bag roll

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Anakin- Would you give me a kidney?

Rex- No I have high-blood pressure because of you.

Anakin- *looking up if that’s a symptom of kidney failure* Yea well you make me sad

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Cody, after Anakin nearly crashed a speeder- You’d think after all these years you’d learn no to get in any type of vehicle with him.

Obi-Wan- I like the thrill of a light pole coming straight for me at breakneck speeds

Anakin- They pop out of nowhere I tell ya

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C3P0- You could be a little supportive

R2-D2- And you could let that get to your head

#star wars: the clone wars #star wars #clone wars incorrect quotes #star wars incorrect quotes #rexwalker #southern accent anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #anidala #padme amidala #codywan #commander cody #quinlan vos #ahsoka tano #sabe #satine kryze #r2d2 and c3po

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tinyowlthoughts · 1 month

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The EC-Theobromine: Bluffing

There were many risks to exploring uncharted space. Unknown blackholes, near-invisible debris fields, hostile civilizations that had achieved space travel but had not yet been contacted by the Intergalactic Governing Body, pirates.

So. Many. Pirates.

Taurvin wasn't a big fan of pirates. Sure, he understood some of their motives - there were those who stole from the rich to give to the poor, or who attacked species intent on slavery and sapient experimentation to rescue the victims. But the majority were just, well.

To use a phrase from his new navigator, they were straight-up assholes.

And unfortunately, his ship was currently taken over by said assholes.

Five of them, to be precise. Normally his crew of nine could handle themself, especially with Lenzoill handling their security, but the bastards had taken them by surprise and used a blaster to Elaana's head to get them to cooperate. So there they were, eight of the best deep-space explorers the Intergalactic Exploration Committee had, kneeling (or the equivalent) before the pirates, limbs pinned behind them with cuffs, completely disarmed.

Wait.

Ignoring the monologuing pirate captain, Taurvin glanced at his crewmates on either side and counted. Eight. Gorvan and Elaana to his left, Epitak and Dhaca to his right, Lenzoill and Quals slightly behind them, the former knocked out and leaning against the couch, while Ir'ith (who had mouthed off when they yanked out a handful of his feathers) glared daggers from the other side of the room. He'd been trussed up like a zagtul and was gagged, though that was doing little to stymie his attempts at cursing the pirates out. The one guarding him looked more amused than anything, which was likely the only reason the zad was still conscious.

Still, that only came up to eight. Where was Max?

☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️

Az was having an absolutely stellar day. His crew was meeting expectations, his first mate was being competent for once (even if he hadn't knocked that huffing, cursing zad out yet), and the IEC ship was theirs to plunder. Not that there would be much beyond rations - these types of ships weren't the goldmines the Elite Star Cruises were, but they always had some type of laboratory equipment on board that would fetch a good price on the blackmarket. All in all, a good catch, and not a drop of bodily fluid spilt!

"Uh, did I miss an email?"

Every head in the room swiveled towards the large doors that led to the halls, revealing a ninth crewmember they had missed. It was upright, bipedal, with two legs and two arms, and a head with fluffy hair. It was wearing standard-issue IEC sleeping garments, down to the slippers, though there was a belt loosely thrown around its waist, a blaster in the holster at its side. As they watched, it opened its mouth wide. At first Az thought it was some kind of threat display, until it stretched its arms over its head and arched its back. A yawn - had the simpleton been sleeping while they captured its crewmates? Pitiful.

"You," Az motioned to one of his crewmates - he couldn't remember her name - "Tie it up with the others."

"Yes sir." Crewmate nodded, reaching for the extra cuffs hanging from her belt.

The newcomer scratched at its head as she approached. "What, not going to ask me to dinner first?" It pressed its hands to its hips and leaned back, creating a horrible cracking noise that shot through the room like thunder. The pirates winced, as did some of the hostages. "I keep telling them not to do that," muttered the captured Lepidae, her antennae curling tight in annoyance.

Crewmate hesitated, glancing back at Az. Surely a motion that produced a noise like that should have broken its back? But the creature seemed fine, now swinging one arm across their chest, caught in the bend of the other, apparently - stretching? They switched arms, seeming to bounce a bit as they moved, and Az gave her an impatient glare. He didn't know what creature this was, nor did he care - it was an obstacle, and needed to be dealt with.

In the second they had taken their gaze off it, the interloper had drawn their blaster. It was unlike anything Az had seen before, made of some kind of blue metal - perhaps cobalt? Vanadium? - with brighter markings painted along the sides. The barrel was blocked by some kind of disc - he couldn't see down it for a projectile, nor could he see any kind of energy-concentrating device for a laser. A type of deterrent ammo, perhaps? One not made to kill, but instead drive away? Little good that would do - they had already captured the ship.

"I've gotta say, I'm not really a fan of how you're treating my friends." It bounced a bit on its heels. "Then again, this gives me an opportunity to use the latest in human technology!" It waved the blaster a bit, and Az felt his internal organs shudder. Human technology? He'd never met a human himself, but he'd heard of them. Great, hulking beasts woven of dense muscle, with teeth able to tear through flesh and bone and a penchant for destroying first and never asking questions. How did this scrawny thing get its hands on a human weapon?

Before Az could demand the crewmate take care of the bipedal thing, it fired. The projectile was not particularly fast, but it was silent - no hum of energy or blast of the more primitive explosive some species favored. A near-silent click, and then Crewmate screamed and ducked away. They hadn't been shot, however - the projectile had hit Az. Right in the chest. The disc had attached to his armor, and there was a long, thin rod sticking out of it. He reached up to snatch it off, but a 'tut' sound from the interloper had him freezing.

"Don't touch it," the bipedal advised, still holding the blaster as it gesticulated. "Skin contact with the probe will make it work faster."

"Work?" His first mate asked with a strangled sound. The zad at his feet had gone silent, and was looking between Az's face and the probe attached to his chestplate with wide eyes. With so much of his beak and face covered by the gag the captain couldn't make out his expression, but he assumed it was terror - identical to his first mates.

"Mmhmm." The interloper beamed, looking proud of itself. "The disc - the part attached to your armor there? - is reading and calculating the material makeup of your form. Then, when it's settled on what will be most painful, the foam will be atomically altered into the most effective acid for destroying you and then be injected into your torso - or whatever fleshy part is closest - and eat you from the inside." It was still bouncing on its heels, looking excited. "I've never seen it happen in person, do you mind if I take notes?"

Az didn't respond - he was frozen, staring down at the probe sticking out of his chest, terror curling in his chest. This was what the humans were up to? Creating biological acid weapons? No wonder they were so widely feared! "Crewmate, remove it!" He turned to the woman, only to find her with her backing up, hands raised, cuffs clattering to the floor.

"N-no way! I don't wanna be digested!" She gasped. Az turned to his first mate, who had lost the usual green flush to his face and backed away as well.

"If you really want to get it off, you'll need some really strong pliers. And probably some anesthetic. It'll be painful - you can't feel it, but the probe's wires have already drilled through your chest plate and into your skin. They're made to be sneaky," it waved the blaster. Az glanced back down at the probe and grimaced. The thing sounded outlandish, but the interloper spoke with such conviction that he couldn't doubt it. And there were more of the probes - he could see them in a clip attached to the blaster.

The interloper tapped his chin with the blaster. "We don't have anything strong enough on board, but-"

"Fall back to the ship." Az snapped, all seven hearts racing in his chest. His crew didn't argue, falling in line at his side. They stared at the interloper, who took a step to the side, leaving the door open. It didn't point the blaster at them, but kept it in hand, watching them carefully as they rushed out, heading towards the docking port.

When Az glanced behind them, he saw it following at a leisurely pace, blaster still in hand. Not wanting to get a second probe to his back, he practically threw his crewmates into their ship and set about undocking and getting as far from the cursed ship as possible.

It was not a good day.

☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️

Ir'ith was losing his gods damned mind. He fell onto his side, cackling and wheezing, fighting against the gag to get enough air to keep up the laughter. The ship shuddered as the pirates undocked, then Max was standing in the doorway, looking exhausted.

"Max! Are you unharmed?" Taurvin demanded, using Gorvan to lever himself to his feet. It was a bit awkward with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he managed to stumble to the human.

"I'm fine." The navigator waved him off with the hand still holding the blaster. Taurvin flinched back, not wanting to come into contact with one of the probes, which set Ir'ith off into another gale of muffled laughter. Max rolled their eyes and, before Taurvin could stop them, pointed the blaster at the zad and fired several rounds. The probe's bright-orange discs hit and stuck to Ir'ith's uniform, and one hit the bit of his beak that wasn't covered, giving him a blue growth in the middle of his face.

"No! Max, how could you?" Elaana cried, struggling frantically against her cuffs. "Don't worry Ir, I'll be right there! We can save you."

"Wait, did he get hurt?" Max stuck the blaster in its holster and hurried over to Ir'ith before Taurvin could stop him. The human dropped to their knees and helped the still wheezing zad sit up before pulling off the gag.

"I'm fine!" Ir'ith reassured the others. "The darts don't do shit, stop worrying." He turned slightly so Max could fiddle with the cuffs around his wrists. They were an older model, nice and rusty the way pirates liked it, and only required two buttons being pressed at the same time to release. It took a bit of effort, but then the zad was freely rubbing his wrists.

"But Max said it was a new human weapon!" Epitak accused, wings fluffing up and hitting Dhaca in the face. The snallygaster, being only three feet tall, was knocked over on his tail.

"Oh, the probe stuff?" Max reached out and plucked one of said probes from Ir'ith's chest. "This is just plastic and foam - no technology at all." They wiggled the probe in their fingers, then stuck it to Ir'ith's beak, giving him two blue horns now. Elaana made a worried squeak, but didn't protest when the cook didn't show any ill signs.

Max moved to help Taurvin with his cuffs. Once the captain had his two arms free, he had to ask, "Max, what exactly is that weapon?"

The human grinned, pulling the blaster from their belt and wiggling it. "This? It's Nerf, or nothin'."

#humans are space orcs #EC Theobromine #writing #haso #humans are deathworlders #bluffing

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intermundia · 3 months

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"so uncivilized" idk man there's something painful about watching obi-wan use a blaster to destroy grievous in such a gruesome way. it's been said before but it's striking how he had to compromise his values to do it, how he had to use the only weapon available to him, the kind you use from a distance, the messy and bloody kind, the kind with collateral damage.

his lack of options in that critical moment mirrors the jedi's dilemma during the clone wars so well, how they did their best to save lives from ruthless enemies using the resources and allies available to them, even though it broke their norms and stressed their morals. in some way every victory of theirs was in itself a defeat; there were no purely win-win conditions.

refusing to use the blaster, letting grievous kill you and escape, is not a better choice for the galaxy. withdrawing because of abstract principles abnegates your duty to protect very real innocent lives. obi-wan could have given up, could have yielded to grievous, yielded to the sith, and the outcome for the galaxy would have been worse. he had to do it, even though it disgusted him.

war is not a civilized activity, and even if you fight to restore civility, you must dirty your hands to participate. obi-wan and the other prequel jedi were on the threshold between the old civilized order and the new brutal one, torn apart by the incompatibility of their traditions and their environment. obi-wan wielding the weapon of his enemy under duress is a perfect example of their dilemma.

#rewatched the movie and was just like #struck by that scene again #the disgust in his voice #no pride in his victory at all #obi-wan kenobi #sw

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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Thinking about. Satine and Obi-Wan.

A Mando!Obi AU where he was raised Pretty Damn Traditional, wears the armor and has the training etc, even if he's a bit 😕😒😬 about the imperialism and war mongering.

And then the latest of many civil wars ramps up, a few years after the disappearance of Mand'alor Fett, and Obi-Wan runs into this somewhat terrified but incredibly stubborn New Mando girl, who's shaking in her boots and, even though she clearly knows how to hold a gun, can't still her hands enough to aim, but she's still mouthing off and accusing him of working with Death Watch, which. No.

But man. Man is this girl interesting. Sure, she's New Mando, all battlesilks and blaster-resistant undergarments instead of real armor, and refuses to actually kill anyone, even when it's totally understandable as self-defense, girl, come on, but he decides to help her out, and then sticks around until basically the end of the war. He claims it's for the paycheck that her government will presumably offer him for keeping her alive, but it's more than a little because he's decided 'aggressively pacifist political junky who stopped bitching about his armor after he agreed to her 'no killing unless there's literally no other option' rule' is actually the best leader Mandalore could get.

He sasses her and she sasses back and a few months of no-holds-barred bickering passes and suddenly he realizes he's fully head-over-heels in love with her.

He makes the decision that is obvious to him, and to nobody else.

The second everything is over and Satine is instated as the Duchess of Mandalore, with both her hereditary title and an elected position, Obi-Wan Kenobi immediately pledges himself to Satine as her lifetime bodyguard. She's got mixed feelings about it all, but decides that so long as he sticks to "I won't start any fights, but I will end them," she can live with it.

He might end up actually marrying her, if she decides that marrying an obvious traditionalist who nonetheless gladly agrees to her policies and motivations would be a good move to secure a greater degree of popular support.

#Obitine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #star wars #the clone wars #mandalore #new mandalore #mando obi #Mandalorian Obi Wan #phoenix posts

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toaarcan · 5 months

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Hi, hey there, did you know that the whole "Jedi can deflect blasters so Mandalorians used solid-shot weapons to kill them because blocking a bullet with a lightsaber just results in molten metal spraying the Jedi" meme is actually bullshit?

Like, first thing you have to know about that lore is that it was written by Karen Traviss. Traviss is fairly infamous for writing a shitton of military wank and really hating the Jedi, portraying them as cruel, cold, fascist idiots, who are much, much lamer than the cool Mandalorians, who are badass military types and definitely haven't carried out multiple genocides in the past (they have). She was also known for not exactly playing ball with other writers, and ultimately ragequit the franchise when TCW started to include Mandalorians and portrayed them differently. This was not a detail that basically any other writer in anything Star Wars ever actually backs up.

And like, here's the thing... this exists.

That's a Jedi using the Force to deflect bullets with her bare hand.

This is Tutaminis. And/or Force Deflection, it's not really clear whether they're the same thing or not. It's a pretty standard Force ability that a bunch of characters have demonstrated. Obi-Wan blocks both bullets and a flamethrower with it in the 03 Clone Wars microseries. It's how Yoda catches and redirects Force Lightning during his duels with Dooku in Attack of the Clones and Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith. It's how Vader absorbs Han's shots with his hand in The Empire Strikes Back.

It's also evident from the amount of times that the Mandalorians fight the Jedi with normal blasters instead of breaking out their "anti-Jedi" weapons for their ancient enemies. And the fact that the Mandalorians lost their wars against the Jedi.

If solid-shot guns/slugthrowers were the amazing anti-Jedi weapons that totally always worked against Jedi, then we'd see a lot more slugthrowers and a lot fewer Jedi. We see the CIS' Droid armies fight against the Jedi for three years, we see the Clones being designed from the get-go to kill the Jedi at the end of the war and being highly successful at it, we see the Empire hunting Jedi for the next 19 years and the rest of the Galactic Civil War after that, and y'know what they have in common? None of them use slugthrowers. They all just keep using blasters.

The answer to "How to kill a Jedi" equation has traditionally been depicted as "Use more blasters than they can actually physically deflect."

There's also the detail that Jedi are precognitive space wizards who can move with superhuman speed. If you're actually in range to shoot one with a gun, they'll sense you, evade or block with the Force, close the gap before you can chamber the next round, and revoke your Hand Privileges.

Even the "You'll kill them with a spray of molten metal from the melted bullet!" thing doesn't actually track with what we see on-screen. At the climax of Revenge of the Sith, we see Obi-Wan and Vader fight in the middle of an active volcano. They get splashed with showers of lava a couple of times, and at the end of the fight, both of their clothes are scorched and burned from the embers. Obi-Wan continues to wear his charred robes throughout the rest of the movie. And he's fine. No lava burns. Neither of them actually gets hurt by the lava until Obi-Wan cuts Vader's limbs off and he can no longer move or protect himself, and even then, Vader survives getting burned to a crisp by being really fucking mad about it.

So yeah, it's nonsense. A dumb "Hurr, Jedi are so lame and my unproblematic genocidal warrior race could totally kill them super-easy" take written by Star Wars' own version of Ken Penders.

#Star Wars #Jedi #Meta #Yeah sorry the Legends Mandos were pretty much straight-up villains most of the time

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

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I’m Cold... (Poe Dameron x gn!reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: None, fluff. (Edit: alcohol, i forgot the alcohol warning AHAHAHA)

Word Count: 1.3k words.

Summary: Commander Dameron is cold, drunk, and silly.

Gif from @userpoe

A/N: I woke up cold yesterday so I wrote this cuz why not. Let me know if someone has done something similar HAHAHAHAH

Tagging: @ahookedheroespureheart

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to someone bashing your door and instantly, you grab your blaster and point it to the door, clutching your blanket and bantha stuffie close.

“Y/N, wake upppp…!” a loud voice groaned from the other side.

You scowl at the voice, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you glance at the clock beside you.

2 am.

You had a 9 am meeting with General Organa today and you only managed to go to sleep at about 12 am. You knew he was doing this on purpose.

“Commander Dameron, why are you trying to break my door down?” you say putting your blaster down but not moving from the comfort of your bed.

The second you met the leader of the Black Squadron, you decided to declare that he was your enemy and he seemed to do the same. Yes, sure, the both of you were fighting for the same cause, but a million stormtroopers could not come close to the disdain you had for your commander. The both of you stubbornly drove Finn, Rose, Rey, General Organa and the rest of the resistance up and over the wall with your constant bickering, arguing and competition.

“Open up, pleaseee. Your commander commands you to let him in.” he giggled and you hear him slump against the door.

Great, he’s drunk.

“Dameron, please go back to your room, I have an early meeting, I need to get back to bed.” you say, still not opening the door.

Suddenly, you hear the familiar whirls and beeps from the pilot’s droid and your eyes widen as you hear him keying the passcode into the keypad with BB-8’s instructions. Two seconds later, the door whooshes open, light flooding in and you see the familiar outline of your commander, your eyes barely adjusting in time to catch BB-8 rolling away at high speed.

“BB, I SWEAR, I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU APART WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER AND SELL YOU AS SCRAPS!” you yell from your bed at the runaway ball of metal.

The pilot slumps inside and smacks the keypad behind him and the door whooshes close, sending the room back into darkness

“What could you possibly want that could not wait till more civilized hours, Commander?” you ask, hatred dripping like venom from your words.

“I’m cold.” he simply says.

“You decided to wake me up at 2 am, because you are cold?” you growl through gritted teeth.

“Mhmm.” he smiles, that big toothy grin that would charm anyone into absolution and invites himself to sit on your bunk bed, next to your legs and starts taking off his boots.

You throw the bantha at his head and he catches it with accurate precision, his reflexes still sharp, despite being drunk. He sets the bantha aside and continues to take off his boots.

“Y/N.”

“What, Dameron?” You say, slowly leaning up on your forearms and shifting away from him.

“I’m cold.” He repeats, looking at you with his big dopey, soft eyes.

“Yea, you already said that, I can’t do anything to help you with that.” You huff, trying to ignore the little twang in your heart that sounded when you briefly met said dopey eyes.

You scan his face, taking in the pink tint lightly covering his cheeks and nose, his one day old stubble, the gorgeous curve of his jaw, his soft pillowy lips.

Your hand itches to tuck the little stray curl that had popped away from his mass of black hair. And then you find yourself staring again at his beautiful brown orbs. You often find yourself getting woozy over those eyes, especially when no one is looking.

Ugh, why does he have to be such a pretty boy?

“Pretty boy?” Poe smirked, scooching closer to you.

Whoops.

“I-i didn’t say that, I meant, pretty b-bossy.” You quickly stutter but Poe smiles and without a warning he laid his soft head of hair down onto your stomach and stared up at you, legs still planted awkwardly onto the floor outside of the bed. You tensed, surprised at the sudden contact but eventually relaxed.

“What are you doing, Poe?” You whisper, letting autopilot take over as you run your hand through his soft curls.

He sighs, pressing the side of his face further into your tummy, his eyes fluttering shut. You swore your heart was begging to tear itself out of your chest cavity with how hard it was pounding and you were pretty sure Poe could hear it too.

“Can you cuddle me, please, Y/N?” He whispers back, opening his eyes slightly to meet yours again.

Without thinking twice, you find yourself nodding fervently as he moves his head off your tummy and lays down properly beside you. You immediately bring his head close to your chest, as he pulls himself closer to you, entangling his legs with yours, arms snaking around your body. You slowly cover the both of you with your little blanket.

He nuzzles close and you find yourself relaxing, the unknown creature inside you taming with the soft whooshes of his breath on your skin. You breathe his scent in, leather mixed with masculine aftershave plus the familiar smell of Jet Juice on his breath.

“Can you play with my hair again, please?” He whispers after a while, and again you instantly oblige, not understanding what is making you feel this way.

But you didn’t feel robotic. No. This felt natural and normal. The same way the arguments and bickering felt normal with him. Maybe you were doing this because you hoped he wouldn’t remember a thing tomorrow. Maybe you were doing this just because you longed to do this for so long.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers, and the words reverberated through your chest and coated your heart like sweet glazed honey making it grind to a halt.

“You’re drunk, Commander.” you teased, once you regain your sense of consciousness.

“I know you love me too.” he says and you didn’t dare deny it.

You knew he was the other reason you got out of bed every day. You fought with him because you cared about his safety and hated his recklessness. You wanted to kiss him every time a mission went right. You cried yourself to sleep silently when he took too long to return from the secret missions that the General sent him to. You never wanted to admit your feelings for him and you were glad that this man was stupidly observant enough to do it for you.

Instead, you bent forward and gave him a soft lingering kiss on his forehead, hands still slowly playing with his curls and he sighs, hugging you tighter.

“Sleep, pretty boy, we have all the time in the world to talk.” You whisper and immediately you feel his breathing slow as his grip on you relaxes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to the sound of a camera flashing loudly and you groaned, pulling Poe’s shifting body back closer to you, wrapping your legs around him to keep him from escaping.

“RISE AND SHINE, LOVEBIRDS, WE HAVE BETS TO COLLECT.” Finn, Rose and Rey say in unison as you slowly peak over Poe’s head at them, hiding your heated cheeks. BB-8 was happily rolling around in one spot and beeping in glee.

“What the hell do you mean by bets?” Poe groaned and turned to look at them.

“Oh please, the whole Resistance has been waiting for this.” Rose squeals, waving the polaroid at your face.

“Even the General had placed her bets. Oh, we’re gonna be so rich.” Rey says, slapping Poe’s back, making him wince.

You facepalm and Poe swings his leg which catches Finn’s shin, making him yelp.

“Should we tell them that nothing particularly spicy happened?” you whispered, lifting Poe’s face to look up at you.

“Let them have their fun.” Poe asks, giving you a boyish smirk. “Ready to face the shame of today?”

“Ready when you are, Commander.” You smirk back.

#poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron angst #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #oscar issac #oscar isaac #fluff #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight fluff

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snipsnipsnippy · 5 months

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Alright I’ve been pushed. Now I’m in a Satine Kryze mood. And BOY do I wanna have a chat some of y’all are not ready for.

Satine and the New Mandalorians are the true Mandalorians. Or at least, they were the popular representation of Mandalorians. First things first, I want to remind everyone that the Mandalorian history we have post Clone Wars-era is entirely told by the surviving Mandalorians, who are.. a fringe cult and a terrorist group (ie The Children of the Watch and Death Watch) and any other surviving exiles or enemies (eg Boba and you know, the Jedi). None of these people lived in mainstream Mandalorian society so how are we to believe them on what “true” mandalorian culture is when their beliefs or actions were deemed so radical they were exiled (or in the case of COTW, left on their own accord).

Now, yes, Satine’s position of pacifism is very extreme. No fighting at all ever is a pretty questionable long term survival strategy and an incredibly divisive one, but it’s literally one the mandalorian people defended and accepted and even tried to bring to the Republic. Because considering the historical and political position Mandalore has been in, it was only this extreme strategy that could save it. It literally ended generations of civil wars. It united the remaining mandalorians and built survivable, architecture for the barren world (which probably saved the planet, but that’s a different theory). But Death Watch, you know the party that meant to overthrow and kill her, will tell you that this was an erasure of mandalorian culture and ignorance of their warrior history, but that’s not the kind of warrior we ever see outside of Death Watch.

Everything in mandalorian culture points us to this much more protective survivor, rather than this vindictive sort of conqueror. Foundling culture in the Mandalorians is so profound because it’s something that is so unique to them. Other cultures do adopt nonfamilial members, yes, but Mandalorians do it so wholeheartedly and without question. There’s a baby alone in the woods? I don’t care if it’s 4,000 years old or its a race that hasn’t been discovered yet, that’s your child now. The way mandalorian clans are structured such that a foundling is immediately no different than a blood relative, whether they come from the same species or star system. Nephews or daughters or neighbors are all the same to a mandalorian (and a hot mention to mando’a for throwing out gender biases too). They are fiercely protected and fiercely loved too. Every excess that exists in mandalorian society goes to their children. To their education, their protection, the survival of the next generation was most important to a mandalorian society.

Even something like beskar, their very armor, was prized for protection, not for offensives. There’s a whole lecture on how beskar came to be metal of choice, but it boils down to being, guess what?, the best defense against lightsabers. And we see Mandalorians come out with the best armor design in like literally all of Star Wars armors ever. I’m not joking. It’s made for visibility, for protection, for comfort, and for not dying. Their identity is their armor. Its value and its design is sacred to each clan because it is forged from their history and painted with its battles.

So working back to Satine, who was raised learning all of this history, learning the ways of her warrior people and seeing the culture stray from what was once a people built for surviving and then watching it kill them, watching it tear apart her family and her home, and for a year, it even tore her away from her identity. She stands up to this massive swath of the deadliest fuckers in the galaxy, and she says “no.” She doesn’t raise a sword. She doesn’t point a blaster. She knows how. She was the fucking mandalorian princess. Clan Kryze was deeply respected. Her father died a hero to these people, and for her to stand up without using force or weapons takes a shit load of courage and some uniquely mandalorian stupidity. All to save their future, their culture, and their children. She said “kill me if you wish but spare the kids” and at the time, she can’t be any more than 20 because timelines are rough. She’s probably still just an orphaned teenager herself. This is the wake up call that broke the Mandalorian Civil Wars.

This is the Most Mandalorian stunt a mandalorian has ever mandalorian-ed since Tarre Vizsla himself told off the fucking Jedi.

She’s the savior of her culture, and Death Watch burned it all down because they wanted to kill, not protect. Satine was more a mandalorian than most of the Mandalorians we see. More mandalorian than her sister will ever be, and Bo won’t even speak her name.

#satine kryze #I love her sm #mandalorians #hi it’s me #i love Mandalorians #it’s me #there is shade to Bo Katan bc honestly she deserves it #but I do love her too just in the war criminal matriarchal lesbian kind of way #justice for Satine #she deserved a name drop in that big family spiel in mando s3 #vktxt

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now-you-sound-like-a-jedi · 6 days

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You know what? Fuck it. Here's a list of some of my Bo-Katan and Satine related headcanons

(most of these are dark and/or depressing because, well, it's them)

When they were kids, Satine taught Bo how to make flower crowns. Even after everything that happened, Bo never forgot it. She only ever made one in adulthood: a delicate wreath of white lilies which she left on Satine’s grave.

The first time Satine ever killed someone, she was 16: they were cornered by a rival clan at the start of the civil wars, and she did what she had to do to protect herself and her little sister. The first time Bo-Katan killed someone was also at the age of 16: Pre Vizsla put a blaster in her hand, pointed it at a deserter's head and told her to fire it, or the next shot would be through her own head.

They used to have matching beskar'ta necklaces. When Bo ran away to Concordia, she left hers sitting on her pillow. Satine kept it, and when Bo-Katan went back to Kalevala decades later, long after Satine was dead, she found it and started wearing it again under her armour.

After Bo-Katan left, Satine used to leave the window in Bo's old bedroom open a few inches every night before she went to sleep. Her guards kept trying to dissuade her, saying that it posed a security risk, but Satine didn't care. She just wanted to make sure her little sister had a way to get in if she ever decided to come home.

Bo-Katan got that scar on her forehead from the first and last time she ever spoke up in Satine’s defence in front of Pre Vizsla.

Bo-Katan never wore makeup in her Death Watch days because Pre told her it made her look too much like Satine. After they were both dead, she started wearing it all the time.

Bo-Katan loves and hates talking to Ahsoka about Satine. Ahsoka is the only living friend she has left who actually knew her sister, and Bo likes being able to talk about her with one of the rare people who never believed any of Pre Vizsla's lies about her. But, at the same time, it always leaves her feeling guilty, because Ahsoka did more to help Satine in the few years they were acquainted than Bo did in her entire life.

After reclaiming Mandalore, one of the first things Bo-Katan does is rebuild Peace Park in Sundari. She replaces the war memorial and carves Satine’s name on it, and plants a garden of wildflowers around it.

#this isn't even a fraction of my headcanons about these two but this post is already long enough #bo and satine's relationship intrigues and upsets me in equal measure okay #satine kryze #bo katan kryze #kryze sisters #star wars headcanons #star wars #the clone wars

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aestheticallypleasinganimeboys · 4 months

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Zetsuen no Tempest: The Civilization Blaster - Kusaribe Samon

#Zetsuen no Tempest: The Civilization Blaster #Kusaribe Samon #anime character #oc aesthetic #anime aesthetic

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starstofillmydream · 3 months

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Unpopular opinion on Commander Cody?

Hi anon! Thank you for the question! 😊

Okay, I can see this ruffling some feathers, so if you don't agree with my opinion, that's okay! I just want things to stay civil, even if people disagree 😅

My unpopular opinion of Commander Cody is twofold: 1) the "sunshine commander" narrative needs to go, and 2) Cody needs to be separated from Obi-Wan's character.

(1) The "sunshine commander" narrative needs to go.

I've talked about this before, but I'm sick of seeing Cody being characterized as "the sunshine." It's inaccurate and a tired assessment. Just because the fandom assumes the sunrise is painted on his armor doesn't mean we should automatically ascribe him to "sunshine" traits—you have to think about the connotations. In media, personifying characters as "the sun" and personifying characters as "the sunshine" are two completely different projects. A character personified as "the sun" has steadfastness and strength/power—after all, the sun leads the day. But it also burns and is dangerous. A character personified as "the sunshine" is cheery, upbeat, quirky, optimistic/idealistic, and sometimes, ditzy. Because Cody clearly doesn't fall under the latter, it would be more fitting to characterize him as a "sun" character (if you're even going to do that at all, because honestly, it's not even necessary. Categorizing clones as stock characters/characters in a trope minimizes the individuality and complexity they try so hard to establish, since you're only attributing them to one personality trait). Cody is a marshal commander—he leads a third of the Grand Army of the Republic under Kenobi, and for good reason. He's calm and collected under pressure; extremely intelligent, especially in military strategy/tactics; has insane combat skills, both with a blaster and hand-to-hand; he's stern and disciplined in order to keep his men alive; and he's diplomatic and has a sound moral compass. Most clones, including Cody, have a jaded outlook on life because of all they experienced during the war, both in combat and out of combat (e.g., Cody's hesitance to believe Rex that Echo was alive in TCW S7E1). There is nothing cheery, upbeat, quirky, optimistic/idealistic, ditzy, and thus sunshine-y, about the guy. He's not frolicking in a field of flowers and stopping to smell the roses—he's a soldier, a highly-trained and cunning one at that. So stop diminishing that core part of him just to fit an inaccurate narrative.

(2) Cody needs to be separated from Obi-Wan's character.

I swear, I can't see a sentence with Cody's name in it without Obi-Wan being in there too. Let Cody live his own life on his own terms without his general encroaching on it! There is so much more to Cody as a person than being Obi-Wan's shadow, and thank God for the writers of TBB S2E3 for showing that so clearly (I know people love to bring up the fact Cody frowned when Crosshair mentioned the Jedi being traitors and that Cody's negotiation skills with Tawni Ames came from Obi-Wan being "the negotiator" and all...but what if...and stay with me...Cody did that all on his own? You know, because he's one of the most brilliant minds in the Republic's military?). It hurts me so much to see Cody cast aside as a side-kick (or romantic interest, which I'm not personally a fan of. Cody would not be desperate enough to be in love with his general. Come on now. The man has standards, and disrupting the military hierarchy is a little icky, in my opinion. The power dynamics will always be off, whether people want to recognize that or not.)—I listed a whole bunch of canon attributes above that people seem to conveniently forget. People in the fandom are very selective as to which clones they give grace and which clones they do not. Cody is one of the clones they do not, as well as Bly, Crosshair, and Dogma, to name a few. But, what blows my mind is that clones like Fox—who only get a few minutes of screen time in the entire Clone Wars series—are given complex personalities, fanon-created faces, and ships with multiple people while Cody, who is the first live-action named clone we meet, is completely dependent on Obi-Wan. It's such a strange phenomenon.

That was long-winded, sorry anon 😅

Hang out with me ask game!

#asks #anon #commander cody

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sonofthedunes · 12 days

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may the fourth be with you, fellow travelers! this time last year i was still a few weeks off from properly getting back into Star Wars, so i’m thrilled i can properly celebrate with you this time! :3 this story is quite a bit different from the others i’ve written for this blog, but i hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. no content warnings. check it out below the cut:

remembrance and reflection

Coruscant, 2000 ABY

For nearly a millennium, the trio of statues have overlooked this plaza. Most citizens hardly spare them a glance as they hurry by, their grandeur muted by time and distance. After all, the Galactic Empire and the Rebellion which had toppled it are ancient history, its players long dead and its monuments crumbling. The major anniversaries are mostly celebrated as welcome days free from work and school. Years of thrilling battles and legendary heroes have been reduced to dry, droning paragraphs in educational holos.

The civil war had permanently reshaped the galaxy, and the average citizen takes it for granted.

But there are those who remember.

A young child stands alone in front of the statues. Mother brought them here at their favorite time of day: the beginnings of sunset, when all is bathed in pale orange light and the crowds have thinned. She is sitting on a bench some feet away, the day’s shopping in bags at her feet. Oh, how the child had begged to come here instead of heading straight home! “Not today, darling, I’m tired,” Mother had objected…but one deployment of tooka eyes and sniffling later, she’d relented.

Every time the child sees these statues, they’re reminded of the story told over their cradle and at many a family gathering: that two thousand years ago, a distant ancestor had joined the Rebel Alliance. Their name won’t be found in any list of decorated war heroes. Depending on who was asked, they were a mechanic, or perhaps a communications officer—after so much time, details have muddled. But they were there regardless, witness to the struggle against the Empire’s might…

And maybe, just maybe, this ancestor encountered one of the rebellion’s legends.

It seems only proper to visit the princess first. When the child was very young, they sometimes bowed to her stone form, sensing the regality that had been present in the flesh. Her round face is kind, sincere, but the artist has realized a deeply contained fire too. She was a tiny woman, the Princess of Alderaan, though she had courage and intelligence enough for a dozen men. Captured by the Empire, forced to watch the destruction of her planet, she narrowly escaped death herself to lead the Rebellion…and later, the New Republic. The child would have liked to meet her very much. Her hands are sculpted outstretched in a gesture of peace; they are small and slender, but belie a certain strength too. She was a great chief councilor, the texts agree. And, the anecdotes proclaim, a great woman too.

By her side in stone, as he was for so long in life, stands her husband. The Corellian smuggler—the eventual general, if the child recalls their lessons correctly—rests a hand on his blaster, a subtle hint of what might happen should he be crossed. Yes, he was a quick shot and an elite pilot, with a brain for tactics and a knack for wriggling out of trouble. But if one studies that classically handsome face, they’ll detect the heart of gold under the cocky facade. for it was his sense of loyalty that brought him back to help win the Battle of Yavin, and his love for the princess that saved her from Hoth. Even a year spent in carbon freeze couldn’t vanquish his spirit! The child would have liked to meet him too.

And that leaves just one figure to contemplate—who might just be the most legendary of all. The child has never seen a Jedi in person…at least they don’t think they have. The old temple still stands deserted, a memorial to the tragedy of Order 66, and the reborn order has relocated somewhere far beyond Coruscant. But surely some of its number must walk the streets of the city-planet! They must simply be adept at concealing themselves, the child decides.

This man, though, the son of Skywalker…no disguise could hide his true identity, and not just because he so greatly resembles his father. Even in stone he exudes a power beyond most sentients’ understanding. The statue’s eyes are stern, but they are also gentle; he brandishes his ignited lightsaber, not to attack but to point the way forward. As prolific as the tapes of his combat prowess may be, just as numerous are the whispered stories of his kindness. A few of the child’s schoolmates claim their ancestors were given shelter at the temple on Ossus, or liberated from Imperial bondage by a bold young X-wing pilot and his squadron. That’s the version of him the child likes best—not the fearless warrior, but the compassionate embodiment of a Jedi Knight. The histories record that he was raised on a Tatooine moisture farm, plucked from obscurity to lead the Rebellion to victory. If that’s so, the child considers, perhaps they might one day achieve greatness too. Leave this galaxy a tiny bit better than it was.

They would have liked to meet him most of all.

“We can’t stay much longer, darling,” Mother’s voice suddenly reminds them; she and her shopping are standing just behind. “Auntie is coming for dinner and I’ve got to get home and start cooking.”

“All right, Mother,” the child murmurs, eyes trained on the statues. “…Mother?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think they were really as great as people say?”

She smiles and pats their shoulder. “I think that the galaxy would be very different if they weren’t.”

“Could I be a hero too someday?”

“Only the Force knows that, my love,” she replies. “Now come along.”

As Mother guides them out of the plaza, the child glances back once more at the three figures. Princess, general, Jedi, all gazing out on a small piece of the universe they helped defend. They almost seem to glow in the deepening sunset. Once they were like me, the child ponders. Now they are legends. Even if these sculptures someday topple and their names are never spoken again, their bravery echoes through the ages. Wherever beings of all species live in peace and prosperity, their actions bear fruit.

The dead rest, but their legacies remain.

#star wars #star wars fic #luke skywalker #han solo #princess leia #may the fourth be with you

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