#zay versio

[bluntblade]

Not that I'd have the energy to explore this even if I wasn't already four years and (checks own Ao3) 22 fics and 260K+ words deep into Rey/Kaydel, but it feels vaguely criminal to me that there isn't a single fic out there for Rey/Zay Versio. I just think there have got to be some fascinating dynamics there, just waiting to be mined.

#Rey #Zay Versio #star wars femslash #Star Wars Rarepairs

[sinisterexaggerator]

His kid.

(Shriv Suurgav and Zay Versio)

Warnings: Thoughts of blood and gore. Angst. Sadness/depression. Negative reflections about life and death. Mild PTSD. Family feels / fluff. Happy/sappy ending.

Notes: This came out. Also, I was never satisfied with how Shriv said "Oh," after Iden's death in Battlefront 2: Resurrection. I feel like he felt a lot in that moment and did not have any time to process as both him and Zay needed to escape. I also imagine he wanted to keep his head clear for her sake. He had to be strong.

This fic is Shriv reflecting on his life as a soldier, what it all means, and coming to terms with the fact he's got a kid now.

Word count: 2.8+

-----

Shriv rubbed the entirety of his face in the center of his palm, trying to keep the exhaustion at bay as Zay Versio stared across the booth at him with wide brown eyes.

Currently, he put on a performance in the guise of a smile, attempting to mask his weariness and all the feelings he had about anything and everything. The teenage girl was brimming with excitable energy while all Shriv wanted to do was sleep for about a thousand years.

“So, you think we’ll find him? This Agamar guy?” she asked while sipping on her bantha-milk shake. It was almost the color of Shriv’s scales, and he nearly wrinkled his nonexistent nose at her, thinking dairy of any kind was nothing short of repulsive. He would never understand why mammals liked the stuff – it had to be innate.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Shriv stated, one foot up on the booth seat as he leaned back against the wall, long fingers digging into the flesh of his brow. “With how many doors have been slammed in our faces thus far, I’d be surprised.”

“Hmm,” Zay hummed, taking another slurp of the thick substance in her glass as Shriv simply blinked at her, sighing for want of anything better to do.

“I have a good feeling about this one,” she acknowledged, perking up a bit as she watched a waitress stroll by. “Aren’t you going to order something?”

“Not hungry,” Shriv informed her, though this was abnormal. Shriv had a healthy appetite and usually ate whatever was put in front of him, but as of late the only thing feeding him was his anxiety.

“You should eat, Uncle Shriv,” Zay frowned, causing something inside Shriv’s heart to stir, though oftentimes repressed on purpose. It was a dangerous game, feeling things. He knew all too well.

He started to drift, red eyes glazing over, his voice coming out softer than customary, and lacking any of its usual gruff edge. “Thankss for trying to look out, kiddo, but I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t sure how Zay  was fine. Days ago she had watched her own mother die before her eyes, and before that, had heard news of the death of her father. Now here she was on a mission from General Organa and Shriv was acting as … what, exactly?

Zay watched as the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, pursing her lips at the Duros who looked, among other things, like he needed a well-deserved nap.

“I’m going to order you a Ronto wrap and some caf, then I’m going to the ‘fresher, be right back.”

Shriv kept a lookout as she pushed herself out of the booth, walking towards the little diner’s counter some distance away. He wondered if that was another thing about teenagers he was just starting to learn – they were hard of hearing.

He quickly deteriorated the moment she was out of sight.

A million thoughts pummeled him all at once. He hadn’t had time to even sit with himself since before he could remember. A stream of negativity flooded his conscience, though that was nothing out of the ordinary. He had a guilt complex.

Birth, death, life, all that stuff in the middle. It all felt like some twisted game he just couldn’t win, or didn’t even know the rules to. One minute someone’s there, smiling at you, and the next minute there’s a thermal detonator at their feet and they’ve got nowhere to run.

Shriv sat up enough to place his head upon the table, wrapping his arms around his waist as his foot fell to the floor to join the other. He stared at the duracrete beneath through a thin sheen of tears.

The pointless drudgery of training to be elite, to be special, to command forces to attack equally trained elite forces that were brainwashed into thinking you were the enemy when you were only doing what you had to do to survive one more day in this karked up galaxy called home.

Sometimes he wondered who was right, and who was wrong, if anyone. Occasionally Shriv thought even the people he knew closely were really nothing more than strangers with their own opinions and points of view, different outlooks, crossing or clashing instead of conveniently trying to work things out. Even rebel leaders argued amongst themselves for “the greater good.”

Everyone had their own idiosyncrasies, mental illnesses, ways of being, and maybe no one could "just get along" … maybe it was impossible, and it made Shriv sad. The senate had fallen all those years ago, and the Empire had flourished because people didn’t want to talk, they didn’t want to listen, they only cared about self-preservation, which was all fine and good and all, but what about helping each other? What about guiding one another to understand?

They had rebuilt things, Luke and Leia had rebuilt things, sort of. The New Republic had righted all the evils, or tried to, though the First Order never truly died. Of course, nothing was ever perfect. He liked to think they had been better off, but some might say otherwise. Now it didn’t matter. Hosnian Prime was gone. Everyone, gone. It was like starting from scratch.

And working with others was hard; no one was ever bound to see eye-to-eye all the time, and in a few instances it couldn’t be fixed… someone winds up hurt in the end, physically or mentally. You get committed to something bigger than yourself, and it was all just ... overwhelming.

Life was supposed to be enjoyable, but then it's not one day, or you feel like shit for no apparent reason. Maybe you make someone mad without realizing it. Human beings especially were fekking complicated. Shriv wished things were simpler, easier, and that everyone had more patience and care for one another.

And this wasn’t just picking sides. This was just Shriv overanalyzing. He found his mood had been affected more than once by several people in various cells, different base camps, or other random locations that were supposed to be his comrades in arms though they hardly knew each other.

He thought it was crazy how all that worked. Maybe it was just a him thing, yet others also seem to be affected as they were often left yelling at each other.

Overall, was a few months eating side-by-side really enough time to trust another person with your life on the field? What was the alternative? All they ultimately had was each other.

He just ... didn’t know what to do about so many things. So maybe he should just stop thinking all together.

‘Yes, why don't you do that.’

But he couldn’t. That wasn’t even the worst of it.

The endless tediousness of ensuring supplies were in order when the next day you were on the run, barely escaping with the clothes on your back and your life, hearing that not everyone made it out in time.

The smell of burnt flesh, the image of corpses littering the battlefront, left, right, and centerfield, some incomplete, blown to bits, guts and blood and viscera as far as the eye could see and his eyes could see far.

Sometimes, as a marksman, it was impersonal. The target resided in a place he would never bother to cross otherwise. He did not have to view the results of his work up close, but still they fell.

Shriv was not a murderer. He kept telling himself that. But, at the end of the day what did he do most frequently? What thoughts and actions took up most of his time and brain power?

Strategy, analysis, battle tactics, military maneuvers, field-exercises, his own breathing rhythm before he took the shot, calculated risks, uncalculated risks, precision, anticipation, surprise.

The surprises were absolutely awful.

And this didn’t account for the time spent behind the yoke of his X-wing. That was a whole other kettle of scalefish.

Flight theory, air and space navigation, specified directives, operating procedures, offensive splits, crossturns, evasive actions, inertial compensation, forever and on and on and on…

But no matter how much he knew, in the end it might as well be drivel, fanciful nonsense, a foreign language he didn’t understand, gibberish, woolgathering, incoherent digressiveness, red tape, or officialese.

‘In the end, it doesn’t really help anyone, does it?’

That wasn’t true at all, and he was well aware. It was just so hard not to think that way when half of your existence had been spent around death and some guy’s diatribe.

Shriv thought actions spoke louder than words in most cases, but sometimes the words were so loud the speakers could drown each other out. Sometimes they were so loud they were a distraction from what really mattered.

Saving people’s lives, eradicating tyranny, throwing yourself headfirst into a dangerous situation for a low payout only to try and live to fight another day.

But sometimes you didn’t live … that’s what got to him more than anything.

Some would say it couldn’t be helped. That’s just the price you pay in this line of work. Was it work? It didn’t pay except in stale rations, backaches, and sleepless nights.

Sleepless nights spent staring at the underside of a bunk bed, or the dilapidated, ancient ceiling of some bygone civilization’s temple in the middle of the woods on a desolate planet no one had ever heard of. Or maybe the transparisteel dome of his starship, guarded by the natural camouflage of a jungle’s canopy, hoping to Maker no one spotted you as you waited for your informant, mark, or friend.

He had boiled that one over, turned it clockwise a million times like a rotisserie nuna in his mind. “It can’t be helped.”

When Iden died all he had said was “Oh.”

Zay had said it was okay, that she made it count, and of course he knew “she always did,” but that was besides the point. There was more to it than that. So much more that in that moment he could not express it in words, but he had felt it in his heart, his very bones, and he had screamed internally.

He had cut the comm, hesitated, gasped a breath, but when it really mattered his voice came out steady and clear. He had to keep it together for her. For Zay.

Dare he say it? He had loved Iden.

Sure, he had been skeptical of her at first. She was ex-Imp. He had taken a risk bringing her aboard, but she had quickly proven herself, and Del too. She had been family, his family, like a sister, someone he looked up to, someone he had fought beside, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin, someone he had cared about.

But, now she was gone, and all he had said was “Oh.” It ate him away inside. She deserved more than “Oh.”

Why did it even have to be like this? Why couldn’t he have been there to save her? Maybe he would have seen Hask coming, and that course of events would have never played out in the first place.

Even so, they wouldn’t have had an escape plan. The Destroyer went down. That was the point. All three of them would have died. There was no other way. “It couldn’t be helped.”

That was just the life of a soldier. One day Shriv was sure he would be the one to die. He didn’t know when, or where, or even how. He assumed at the barrel end of some Stormtrooper’s blaster rifle.

He wonders if it hurts - dying. He wonders how bad it had hurt Versio. He pinches back the saline liquid that threatens to fall from his eyes, thoughts wandering to the daughter she had left behind. The one who had left her disgusting bantha-milk shake on the table across from him to slowly melt.

Zay was strong, independent, a go-getter. She had her mother’s fiery spirit and then some. She was destined for great things. She would make her parents proud, but she was just a … kid. She shouldn’t be forced to do things like this – hunt down Rebel sympathizers, take orders from generals, fly around the galaxy in a stolen TIE fighter that at any moment could be shot down or pulled in by a tractor beam, recalled, confiscated, searched out, destroyed with them inside it..

But she wasn’t anybody’s kid now, she was another orphan of the war. The war that never ended, and Shriv had been at this for some thirty years. He was tired. He didn’t want to fight anymore, but the only alternative was to give up, go hide somewhere, and he just couldn’t do that.

Iden had done that, lots of people had done that. They had their reasons - family.

Shriv never had that sort of reason. He had never found the time for love, for a partner, for someone to care about like that, or to care about him.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He had dreamed about it on occasion. He just … didn’t have the desire to bring offspring into a place as kriffed up as the current reality he existed in. That, and he knew he was an acquired taste. He never had any luck in that department.

Then, he realized he could still play an important role. Zay wasn’t on her own. She didn’t exactly have to be an orphan. She had him. They had each other. He was no replacement, and he wouldn’t try to be, but maybe, just maybe, he was better than nothing.

Hard to get along with, hard to love, maybe. But he liked to think he was a decent guy that perhaps in another life would have made a good role model for someone, or maybe even a dad as humans called them.

“Uncle Shriv?”

Shriv shot up, not expecting to be caught in such a state. He had meant to snap out of it before Zay returned, though she witnessed the tail end of his tears. They were quickly wiped away on his sleeve, but that was not satisfactory. The young woman sat down next to him, a concerned look upon her face.

“Are you okay? I ordered you that wrap with extra Clutch sauce, just like you like,” she offered with a lopsided smile.

The tears fell fresh, Shriv reaching out awkwardly with both arms, trying for a hug that was well-meaning yet somewhat clumsy. He cinched them loosely around her neck and pulled her in. There was little protest, as Zay allowed the embrace, even returning it with a soft pat to his back.

“Sweet girl, listen to me, all right?”

“All right,” she consented, continuing to permit the odd show of affection from the Duros who rarely, if ever, indulged in this sort of thing. It was unusual, and she couldn’t help being curious.

“Your mom and dad – they were good people. You’re good people,” Shriv started off, talking softly into her ear. “Iden, she gave her life fighting for a cause she believed in. I don’t have to tell you that. But I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve got nothing, nobody, and what it’s like to be alone.”

Zay listened intently, deciding not to interrupt, but to hear him out before saying anything one way or the other, yet she felt a tug on her heartstrings just the same.

“I just want to tell you right now, you’re not. Not only do you have the whole of the Resistance guarding your back, but you’ve got me, kid.” Shriv tightened his grip, burying his face into her jacket. “You’ve always got me. You’re my kid now, understand?”

Zay's smile brightened as she nodded her head.

“I know we don’t look anything alike. Hell, we’re not even the same species, but anyone messes with you, they’ve gotta go through me. Besides …” Shriv pulled away, placing his hands atop Zay’s shoulders. He returned her smile, albeit weakly. “I don’t want your mom to haunt me. She’d have my ass.”

Zay laughed then, wiping her own tears away that had started to form. Shriv felt guilty. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

“She would, too,” the girl affirmed, grinning from ear to ear, though there was a hint of sadness lingering behind the otherwise cheeriness of her expression.

“OK, Shriv, under one condition.”

Shriv sat back, awaiting her stipulation.

“You eat something. I need you on your A game.”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he agreed, watching after her as she took up her spot on the other side. He wearily expelled a breath, folding his arms across his chest.

“One more thing, Zay,” he stated.

“What is it?” she asked, dark eyes meeting his ruby ones directly.

“Don’t … order anymore of those. They’re gross,” he professed, waving offhandedly at her bantha-milk shake.

Zay responded by taking a long, laggard sip through her straw. He was almost positive she did it to annoy him, a mischievous twinkle residing in her gaze.

Shriv shook his head, smirking. “Already going through your rebellious phase. Lucky me."

#Shriv Suurgav #Zay Versio #Star Wars #Fanfiction #Star Wars fanfiction #Battlefront 2 #Star Wars Battlefront 2 #Star Wars Battlefront 2 Resurrection #Iden Versio #Del Meeko #Leia Organa #fix it #Duros #Resistance #Rebel Alliance

[masoncarr2244]

Star Wars Battlefront II (2017) Resurrection Campaign

#star wars #iden versio #zay versio #shriv suurgav #gideon hask #star wars battlefront ii #swedit #starwarsedit #gamingedit #videogameedit #battlefront 2 #gif #gifs

[frunbuns]

I read Resistance Reborn recently so here's some quotes I saved from it

(Spoilers, duh)

-

The citizens of Coronet City watched the TIE explode into nothingness. Some curious, most apathetic. And then they continued on home to waiting families and household pets, or to the cantina to meet with friends, or to a thousand other places under the setting sun. The exploding TIE tighter didn't even make the evening newsfeeds, and by the next morning, it was all but forgotten.

-

She wondered how much she was supposed to suffer in a single lifetime, how much exactly one person could take.

-

It was the nature of war, to put its children through hell, to murder their parents.

-

"Say it again, Zay. I'm having trouble hearing you. You're breaking up."

"Oh." And then louder and slower. "SHRIV AND I... HAVE GOTTEN... SOME PROMISING LEADS...?"

Leia smiled good-naturedly at the girl's exaggerated overcorrection. "I can hear you fine now. Speak normally."

-

"Poe, can you do something for me?"

"Anything, General."

-

The heaviness that Poe had been carrying lifted a bit. They weren't saying what he did was okay, but they weren't going to abandon him either. "I'll work to make it better," he said, quietly, head down, shame heavy on his shoulders. "I swear it."

And then there were arms around him and faces too close and steady words of encouragement. Poe soaked it all in like a dying man given an impossible reprieve.

-

"She's a great! But she's also nuts."

"All the best pilots are," Suralinda murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear.

-

"[...] Not that these people aren't responsible for their crimes, but they might have something to offer the Resistance, and something the Resistance can offer in turn." Even as he said it the words struck close to home. Was he talking about former Imperials, or was he talking about himself?

-

"Be the light, Poe."

-

"[...] I always did like your hair a little long."

"Now you tell me," he said. "Right before I join up again."

"The Resistance will let you keep your hair. Have you seen Poe Dameron?"

"He does have nice hair," Wedge agreed.

-

"Maybe my expectations were too high," Poe admitted. Or maybe the problem was the messenger more than the message. Maybe Maz didn't trust him, didn't respect him. These days, he barely trusted himself.

-

[...] But now the doubts were closing in again, making him question how he was going to overcome the mistakes above D'Qar and the mess he made on the Raddus. Black Squadron had at least understood, and Leia seemed to understand, even if he still suspected she was disappointed in him.

[...] It was a shame he would have to live with for the rest of his life, and the only thing he could think to do to make up for it was to give his all, everything he had—body and blood and soul—to rebuilding the Resistance.

-

Poe hadn't known Paige Tico well, but her sacrifice was etched into his memory. He was responsible for her death too. [...] But at the expense of Paige's life, among others. So many others. Blood on his hands, and he wouldn't forget it.

-

"You're absolutely right. I disobeyed a direct order, I got people killed, I undermined my commander, and led a mutiny. And if you don't think that eats me up, that it haunts me every day, every minute, then you don't know a damn thing."

"[...] you could lock me up, throw me into space, [...] trust me, if I thought my death would bring them down, I'd sacrifice myself in a heartbeat."

-

"We've all made choices," Poe said. "Choices that caused harm, led to destruction, even at times death. We are all responsible for our deeds. The great and the terrible. But if we define ourselves only by what we've done, only by our failures, then this Resistance, this spark? It dies here and now."

He waited a moment, but no one interrupted. Keep going, he told himself.

"We're all here because we have a chance to change things. A chance to change the galaxy. A chance to change ourselves. But we have to make that commitment. That choice. A choice..." Poe hesitated. It sounded good when he'd started, but now he was fumbling. He looked around as if trying to summon the words from the air around him.

"A choice to be better." A voice pierced the silence, and the girl Zay stepped forward. She was young, easily the youngest among them, but her voice was clear and strong and her eyes shone with conviction.

Poe pressed a fist over his heart, grateful. There it was.

"A choice to be better," he repeated.

-

"For the record, your parents would be proud, space baby or not."

"Hmmm," she said, sounding inconvenienced.

"Especially your mom, especially Iden."

-

Poe quickened his pace, scared that failure even now dogged his steps. But we wouldn't let Leia down again. He would not fail. He would get this right, even if it killed him.

-

But when Hanhee went down, a piece if Leia's heart went with the Twi'lek warrior.

-

Snap nodded. "I'm just glad you're okay, dad."

Something in Wedge's chest swelled. His heart, he guessed. Dad.

"I'm great, son. Just great." And he meant it.

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars books #star wars sequals #leia organa #poe dameron #zay versio #shriv suurgav #wedge antilles #snap wexley #suralinda javos #maz kanata #iden versio #sw books #books #mine

[herinferno]

new tag dropped, decided to make things a bit more simple~

#[ ask meme :: a message sent across the sea of stars ] #[ mutuals only :: private officers only ] #[ inbox call :: messenger of the empire’s proud servant ] #[ character file :: iden versio ] #[ musing / about :: igniting the flames ] #[ character file :: del meeko ] #[ character file :: gideon hask ] #[ character file :: zay versio ] #[ character file :: garrick versio ] #[ character file :: dio ] #[ character files :: they have been forged in a fire of war ] #[ group file :: inferno squad ] #[ character file :: leia organa ] #[ character file :: luke skywalker ] #[ character file :: han solo ] #[ character file :: lando calrissian ] #[ character file :: kylo ren ] #[ character file :: shriv suurgav ] #[ iden x del :: watching the sun rising and falling together ] #[ ships :: warming a winter’s heart ] #[ dashboard commentary :: words can travel in lightspeed ] #[ starter call / open rp :: attention to the commander ] #[ in character :: loud and clear ] #[ worldbuilding :: a world built from flames of the cosmos ] #[ headcanon :: not every secrets are meant to be unravel ] #[ aesthetic :: embers in the cosmos ] #[ psa :: a message across the stars ] #[ body claim / face claim :: beneath this armor ] #[ analysis :: datapad ] #[ introspection :: an echoing fire also has secrets ]

[theocs-strikeback]

Created By: @supersaiyanjedi14

OC Name: Mazal Wren-Bridger

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Human

Status:

The younger child of Ezra and Sabine and the younger sister of Brycan. Mazal was born during the height of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, growing up in the shadow of the conflict. Like her older brother, Mazal initially wanted to become a powerful Mandalorian Jedi warrior, joining in the battles and adventures. However, this was shattered when she went on her first serious combat mission, which ended in a horrific disaster. Traumatized by her experiences, Mazal found her previous passion lost, even considering turning in her lightsaber and throwing out her armor. Fortunately, Mazal recieved much-needed counseling from both Jedi Healers and more mundane therapists, and Sabine helped her daughter rediscover her calling. Feeling that the galaxy needed healing hands far more than warriors, Mazal was drawn to the ideals of the late Duchess Satine Kryze, seeing the value of promoting peace over the use of force. Taking up the path of a Jedi Healer and joining the reformed Mandalorian Protectors, Mazal channeled her passion into humanitarian aid, traveling the galaxy to help pick up the pieces of disaster and conflict. In a way, she does manage to become just as much of a Mandalorian Jedi as Brycan, albeit one dedicated to the higher calling of the Force and the more grounded tenents of the Resol'nare. Other notes: -"Mazal" is a Hebrew name meaning "good fortune". I chose this to fit a naming theme with her father Ezra as well as to reflect the safety of her birth given Sabine's injuries soon afterward. -Despite no longer being a dedicated fighter, Mazal still keeps up on her training. She may not like fighting, but if the people she's helping need a lightsaber to protect them, she won't hesitate to use it. -Unlike Brycan, Mazal is just as much of an artist as Sabine, constantly redecorating her room with new paintings and sketches. Her hair is her most common canvas, rarely going a month with the same dye job. -Mazal is a self-professed daddy's girl; not even the Force can get Ezra to say no to her. -She gets along well with Ben Skywalker, both being close to each other during their training. Outside of her family, Ben's the one she can confide in the most. -Mazal is bi and dates Zay Versio as a teenager.

#Mazal wren-bridger #ezra bridger #sabine wren #rebels #ocs strike back #star wars

[risingthroughthestars]

ST Muses & Their Main Verses

Anakin Skywalker Darth Vader The eccentric cult The Acolytes of the Beyond successfully managed to revive the spirit of Darth Vader into a new body, trying to revive their Dark Lord. Much  to their despair, their Dark Lord wasn’t the ruthless Sith they’d worshiped any more. He isn’t fully light, but he’s not fully dark.

Rey Skywalker Just a scavenger from Jakku. Powerful and naturally gifted in the Force. She is the reincarnation of the Chosen One.

Captain Phasma She was once a young Chiss skywalker, kidnapped from her people and used by the Empire to explore the Chaos. Once her Third Sight started to fade, she was then trained as a warrior, quickly raising through the ranks and enforcing the First Order’s programing to their other recruits.

Vi Moradi General Organa’s top spy-Magpie. She does everything Leia asks of her. At the moment it’s setting up a base of operations on the planet of Batuu on the edge of the Galaxy. She’s become affectionately known as their Mother Hen.

Zay Meeko Versio The daughter of two Imperial defectors, Iden Versio and Del Meeko. She was raised in the midst of it, learning to pilot and fight by her parents. After loosing both her parents, she became an agent for General Organa searching for allies for the Resistance.

Bretnic Roswell He grew up on Hosnian Prime and went through the Flight Academy there learning under Wedge Antillies. When the growing threat of the First Order became apparent, he left with many of his other class mates to join General Leia Organa in the Resistance. He, like many others lost his family during the Hosnian Cataclysm. He’s flown many missions and at the moment he is stationed on Batuu with Moradi’s growing Resistance cell

#Character Info #eeyYY I got myself to write quick blurps #...I really need to not be lazy & make docs buT #...tbh Vi is the only one who doesn't really divert from canon #Rey is--a mix #...sorry Kylo you can't kiss the reincarnation of ur grandpa #but really her fight with light & dark still works and Palpatine's need of her #so really she's pretty canon compliant just little changes

[hiddenwashington]

anonymous said : Most wanted from Star Wars?

hold on tight because members have got a long wanted list for you.

from star wars, there have been requests for: boba fett, grogu, rennec shand, greef karga, lando calrissian, owen lars, karis nemik, vel sartha, cinta kaz, taramyn barcona, luthen rael, maarva andor, bix caleen, b2emo, kleya marki , korkie kryze, celly organa, kayo organa, niano organa, deara antillies, finn, echo, tech, emerie karr, cad bane, jabba the hutt, koska reeves, axe wolves, the armourer, kanan jarrus, sabine wren, garazeb orelious, ezra bridger, captian rex, commander bly, del meeko, zay versio, chirrut imwe, baze malbus, bodhi rook, galen erso, lyra erso, quinlan voss, or kit fisto!

#star wars rp #star wars rpg #star wars roleplay #appless rp #multifandom rp #anonymous #mw #admin ollie

[savesgalaxy]

HELLO AND WELCOME to savesgalaxy, a st.ar w.ars multimuse written by en! they/he, 26, gmt+8. rebooted may 2023. blog is currently a wip. private & selective. 21+ only rules and muse info | memes | other blogs: @hopegained, @hopebore, @pastkilld

mobile friendly rules & muses under the cut

rules

First and foremost, hi! I’m En, 26 years old, Southeast Asian (GMT+8), and a full-time student with ADHD. I won’t always be available to write and am very slow to get to it, but you can always chat or plot with me on Discord or through IMs. Dark topics including, but not limited to, violence, trauma, depression, and war (obviously) are gonna be ever-present. As for spicy/smutty things, they’ll be tagged as ‘nsft.’ and I will ONLY write them with muns I’m already familiar with and put under read more or on discord. I tag triggers using 'trigger tw’ and ‘trigger cw’. I won’t hesitate to block you if you're homophobic/transphobic/islamophobic/racist. This is non-negotiable and frankly, you can leave if you don’t agree.  If your posts are untagged and uncut, there’s a high chance I won’t follow back. It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like a clogged dash.  Basic rules on godmodding apply. I will ask for your permission regarding any decision that may involve manipulating, killing, or maiming your muse(s), so I expect the same courtesy from you. This blog is iconless for the most part; it's too much effort to make icons for every single muse. My formatting is just single small text, with bold and italics sometimes. If you find it hard to read, please let me know! I’ll adjust accordingly. While we’re still on that subject, I find posts that are (typed)  like  this  (with double spacing, too) distracting and straining on my eyes. I may remove that type of aesthetic on my end when necessary. Plotting and memes are the best ways to interact with me. They don’t have an expiry date, so send them in whenever! I have my favorite ships for my canon characters as do most people I’d imagine (and I will default to established/heavily implied ships in most cases!), but that isn’t to say I’m not open to ship with other muses. I’m always here for more interesting dynamics! There must be chemistry of course, so if you’ve got an idea of a potential ship, just let me know.

muses

bold = primary/current main muses rey (canon-divergent) rose tico (canon-divergent) amilyn holdo (canon-compliant with divergent verses) cyrille virtus (oc, originals, elite tie fighter pilot) indra bakti (oc, sequels, spy-in-training) zilaref olgad (oc, sequels, mirialan, comms specialist) maz kanata (canon-compliant) zay versio (canon-compliant) paige tico (canon-compliant with divergent verses) alexsandr kallus (canon-compliant) bode akuna (canon-compliant with divergent verses) kazuda "kaz" xiono (canon-compliant) enfys nest (canon-compliant) zorii bliss (canon-divergent) vel sartha (canon-compliant) voe (canon-compliant) lah kara (visions, canon-compliant)

#pinned. #beta editor only.

[multifandomnonsense]

#star wars #chart #inferno squad #inferno squadron #del meeko #iden versio #zay versio #shriv suurgav #gideon hask

[sinisterexaggerator]

My baby such an awkward hugger.

#Shriv Suurgav #Zay Versio #he doesn't even touch her #I think it's out of respect #keeping his hand to himself. #that's his niece/daughter and he loves her like family #;_;

[userpoe]

“Zay Versio with Inferno Squad, standing by. Look at all these ships!” “Fireball, here. Hi, everyone!” “Cut the chatter, Kaz,” a deep voice responded. “Okay, okay!” Poe interrupted, because they had no time for a hundred thousand ships to call in! “Just…go shoot stuff! Uh, I mean, hit those underbelly cannons with all you’ve got. Every one we knock out is a world saved.” (Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker novelization)

#swedit #starwarsedit #star wars #battlefront ii #resistance #kazuda xiono #zay versio #nym.edits #yes i am back at it again making content for me and exactly me <3 #i simply think there should be a story where poe gets to go on a mission with both of them because oh my god THE CHAOS #he and kaz are already disasters together throw zay in the mix? #poe and zay #poe and kaz #resistance reborn

[tcookies]

Friendly reminder that, after the Battle of Crait, a large chunk of the Resistance are made up of ex-Imperials 👀 People even Leia didn't want to recruit and only did so because she knew there was no choice and needed every person. So if you think the Resistance would've given Ben a death penalty for being a war criminal... lmfao wow the hypocrisy...

#star wars #rise of skywalker #tros #kylo ren #ben solo #leia organa #rey #iden versio #zay versio #battlefront ii #poe dameron

[writer-reader-skater]

Del: I need you to swear-

Zay: fuck!

Del: ....

Del: I need you to promise-

Zay: oh.

#del meeko #zay versio #inferno squad #battlefront ii #zay meeko

[kyrilu]

the tros novelization @ battle of exegol

“Millennium Falcon, standing by for orders,” said Lando. 

“Mon Calamari fleet, standing by,” came another voice. 

“Phantom Squadron, standing by.”

“Ghost, standing by.” 

“Anodyne Two, standing by.”

Poe was not the crying type, but as everyone called in, one after another after another, liquid pooled in his eyes. They had done it. The spark of the Resistance had become a fire.

“Alphabet Two, standing by.”

“Zay Versio with Inferno Squad, standing by. Look at all these ships!” 

“Fireball, here. Hi, everyone!”

“Cut the chatter, Kaz,” a deep voice responded.

i yelled. KAZUDA XIONO, my fail son, and Yeager scolding him! Zay Versio (and presumably Shriv with her!)!

#tros novelization #kazuda xiono #star wars resistance #zay versio #inferno squad #so either hera and/or jacen are flying the ghost?? #ok but real talk this still needed 100% more venisa doza -- torra doza -- tam ryvora -- norra wexley #suralinda javos -- jessika pava -- inclusion #i'm still disappointed at heart #tros novelization spoilers #is the alphabet two an alphabet squadron reference? i haven't read that one yet #kyrilu:personal

[quipxotic]

Teza turned a painted, blood-streaked face toward Poe. "It's possible I killed his brother," she admitted coolly, "but I don't remember." She straightened to her full height, easily just shy of two meters, her eyes roaming over the gathered crowd. "It's possible that I killed all of your brothers. And cousins, and mothers and fathers, and former lovers." Her voice was flat and unforgiving. "It was my job." "Then why are you here," Poe asked, voice calm, curious but not accusing. Teza focused back on Poe, looking mildly surprised. "Because it was wrong," she said simply, "but I didn't know it at the time." "You were young and ambitious," Poe said, taking a guess, "so you joined the Empire." His conjecture was rewarded with a startled nod. "Mostly hungry," she murmured, "but yes." "You joined the Empire," Poe said, eyes roving the room before resting on Wedge. "Just like you." The older man blinked, but didn't hesitate. "It's no secret I attended Skystrike Academy," he said, spreading his hands, "but I left once I realized what the Empire was doing." Poe gave him a knowing nod and turned to Zay. "And your mother," he said. "My mother was an Imperial officer," Zay said quietly, "but she defected. Her and my father. They died for the Resistance. Ask Leia, she knows." "Suralinda," Poe called, raising his voice slightly. Suralinda was sitting on a bench, watching the scene before her with glittering eyes, no doubt taking mental notes for another story.  "I didn't give a care about either side much," she admitted breezily. "I was ready to sell Resistance secrets if it would get me what I wanted. Oh wait, I did." She laughed at the stunned faces around her. "Relax," she said, "I came around." Poe smiled tightly and tried not to think about yelling at her to choose her words with a bit more care, but she had made his point. "And you," Poe asked, turning lastly to Finn who had been idling in the background next to Rey. Finn stepped forward immediately. "Used to be a stormtrooper, but now I'm rebel scum," he said, pressing a fist over his heart, "until the end." "My points," Poe said, turning back to Agoyo, "is that many of us have dubious beginnings, but it is how we end that counts." "My father was Darth Vader," Leia said, pitching her voice so that it rang out clearly through the room. "Is there anyone who wants to question my loyalty to the Resistance?" The room was wisely silent.

From Star Wars: Resistance Reborn by Rebecca Roanhorse

#teza nasz #poe dameron #wedge antilles #zay versio #Suralinda Javos #finn #pacer agoyo #Leia Organa #star wars #resistance reborn #Taken from the audiobook version so all punctuation/spelling/etc. weirdness is my fault #quipxotic stuff