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Art I had commissioned of my Jedi Knight Senna Rand & Theron Shan. Drawn by the very talented & kind @matthewyeez :-D

#swtor #art #others ocs #theron shan

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toying with some backstory for Caibos and Caloma. I think having them be on Corellia pre-story would be fun for Reasons. don't ask me how they got there it's a work in progress

There was a Jedi in the Gilded Descent casino.

This was not unusual, at least in the years since Padawan Caloma had reached an age where she was allowed into the casino. Caloma never played, of course. Even if she cut herself off from the Force completely to do so, the house would never believe she had. She merely bought enough drinks to justify her presence on their terms, and made herself the life of the party to satisfy her own terms. She did feel a little guilty at the number of impressionable young Corellian men who thought that having a Jedi on their lap might bring them luck. Still, if they didn’t listen when she impressed the truth upon them, that was hardly her fault.

Most of the masters who had trained Caloma thought she needed more moderation, but Caloma thought she did well avoiding attachment or undue passion. She had fun, of course – a few drinks, some dancing, trading kisses with whatever boy didn’t mind the massive burn scar across one side of her face – but she never spent too much time with any one partner, and she always made it clear to them that it never went beyond fun. The Jedi code didn’t forbid happiness, after all. It just wanted her to be sensible and detached about it, to never put her own happiness above others’. Caloma could do that.

And so, those who frequented casinos and cantinas in this corner of Corellia were accustomed to the sight of a young, heavily-made-up Twi��lek laughing and dancing the nights away in spite of her austere brown robes and the lightsabre at her hip. It didn’t occur to anyone, until Caloma gleefully announced it as she downed her second shot, that this night was any different.

“Well, I’ve got to enjoy it as much as I can now,” she said after she’d swallowed, grinning at one of the few men whose interests had turned to friendship after their few nights of fun were over. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“What?” Cole said. “No. You didn’t mention this!”

“I did! I talk all the time about how I’m getting my own Jedi Master soon,” she giggled. “Weren’t you listening?”

“I thought you’d be apprenticing here,” Cole said. “Is there a Jedi enclave somewhere else on the planet?"

“You’re asking about Green Jedi, and they’re all over,” Caloma said. “But I’m not staying with them.”

They’d offered, of course. Caloma’s training had been almost entirely on Corellia, and she was more familiar with the Green Jedi than most padawans. But Caibos didn’t want to stay, because on a boy descended from Sith purebloods (impureblood, he called himself sometimes) the love Green Jedi had for their planet looked like passion, and where Caibos went so would Caloma. She’d promise that a long time ago.

But those thoughts were sad thoughts, and Caloma was here to have a good night. So she planted a cheerful kiss on Cole’s cheek and downed the last shot she’d ordered.

“No bars on Tython,” she said. “I assume. So I have to take advantage when I can! Who knows how long I’ll be training with my master.”

Satisfied that the conversation was wrapped up and she wouldn’t have to think about Caibos or Vyme or leaving Corellia anymore, she dragged her friend away from the bar. It was time to play roulette spectator, and maybe wingman for Cole. They had similar taste in men. Caloma liked the nights when she could find one for her and one for him, and it would feel like a good send-off.

Her hopes were dashed when the crowd started to ripple with unsettled whispers. Cole, not prohibited from gambling the way Caloma was, looked up from the table with his chips forgotten in his hand as the crowd parted, a bubble of silence in a larger bubble of murmuring.

“Is that…” Cole trailed off. Caloma didn’t need him to finish. She knew the noises being made intimately, and even more the awkward silence. She knew who was coming before she saw the fleshy tendrils on his chin, the sun-roughened red skin, or the long dark red hair he kept tied back in a way that made him look older than his fifteen years. She pushed herself away from the table, scowling.

“Caibos!” she snapped, seizing his arm. “What are you doing here? Who let you in?”

“I’m here on Jedi business,” he said in that self-important tone he’d been working on since his voice first hinted at dropping.

“Is that what you told them at the door?”

“Master Idhess sent me,” Caibos said. He lifted his chin defiantly. “Callie, we’re leaving for Tython tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to say goodbye to Corellia tonight,” Caloma said. “Caibos, you are way too young to be in here. Go home.”

“Not without you!”

Master Idhess had been smart, sending Caibos. Caloma couldn’t deny those pleading orange eyes. Not after practically raising him.

“Let me say good night to my friend,” Caloma said. It was a blessing only Cole had been in town, apparently. It meant she could get Caibos out that much sooner.

“Sorry, Cole,” she told him, giving him another kiss on the cheek. “My brother. Certain prodigies are also shipping out for Tython tomorrow and think that their curfews apply to those of us who aren’t fifteen years old.” She glared at Caibos past Cole’s head. Caibos glared back. Cole, who had never had occasion to meet Caibos before, looked between them in confusion and slight alarm.

“Your – brother?”

Someday Caloma would get up the courage to say the joke that always sprang to mind: You don’t see the resemblance? She’d tap her cheek as she said it, drawing attention to the matching burn scars on both their faces. But that would mean inviting people to look, and Caloma hated to do that. So instead she responded as she always did:

"The Jedi Order is my family, and Caibos and I have known each other longer than we’ve been a part of it. I’m sure I’ll see you again, Cole. Maybe once I’m knighted!”

He smiled, and to Caloma’s relief didn’t push for details on Caibos’ origins.

“I’m sure that’ll be soon, knowing you,” he said. “Take care of yourself, Caloma.” ---

The walk back to the Green Jedi enclave was tense.

“You’re angry with me,” Caibos ventured at last.

“I’m not angry with you, Caibos,” Caloma said. Her lekku were still enough as she walked that she must have been holding them still; her strides were long enough that Caibos had to hurry to keep up. He doubted her words very much.

“I did not mean to… interrupt you,” he said awkwardly. He wasn’t certain it was true. What had he been there for, if not to interrupt? “Your goodbye, that is. It’s just – perhaps a Jedi – “

“Caibos, a Jedi is not forbidden every pleasure under the suns,” Caloma interrupted with a huff. She whirled to face him, and he halted so quickly he stumbled trying not to run into her. “I have no attachment, though I have compassion for everyone I meet. I don’t get angry on these nights out. I don’t hurt people. I certainly don’t touch the Dark Side. I can survive a life without those – those little pleasures, those silly things in there. I’ve done it before. But why should I when I don’t have to? Why should we not remind ourselves of how much joy there is in this galaxy we’re supposed to protect?”

“Why do you only find joy when you’re drunk?”

Caibos regretted it as soon as he said it. Caloma’s already-thunderous face darkened further, and without another word to him she whipped around and stalked off down the dark sidestreets of Corellia. Caibos groaned and ran after her.

“Callie, I’m sorry!” he said.

“You’ve got what you wanted,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t bother.”

“I wanted –“

She put on a burst of Force-influenced speed, and Caibos sighed as she rounded the corner. She’d always been better at that than him.

“I wanted to spend time with you tonight before we go to our separate masters,” he said to the smoggy night air.

He knew, of course, that it would have been easier to get what he wanted if he’d kept his mouth shut about her drinking habits. It wasn’t even that she was an alcoholic, or at least Caibos didn’t think so. He just worried about her.

“Be honest,” he grumbled to himself, kicking a rock aimlessly as he trudged homeward. “You just hate that she gets to be imperfect.”

Caibos had always been a prodigy. Where Caloma’s Force-sensitivity had been easy for her to hide from the Sith, his had been a blaring signal, and the impetus of their escape from slavery. He had few memories of those days – only a dark, rainy planet and an orange-red face that was smoother than his own. Caibos looked nothing like his human mother, unlike his older brother. With the Force practically bursting from him, he’d have been made the perfect Sith.

His mother had refused to allow that, and she’d sacrificed everything to get her two children and Caloma off-world. Not that Caibos’ brother had appreciated her efforts – but it didn’t matter. It didn’t. Caibos was here, and a Jedi, and free.

It was just that he couldn’t afford a single mistake. No passionate outbursts for him, not like Caloma had just let loose. No nights out, even if he was old enough. And Caibos didn’t mind it, really. He believed in the Force. He trusted in the Jedi way. It had never steered him wrong.

He just wished Caloma wasn’t so adamant that she deserved to let loose whenever she pleased, because all it did was make everyone eye him as though Callie’s influence would cause his Sith nature to shine through. Or worse – that Callie’s personality had been his fault all along.

“It’s fine,” he told himself. He just needed to get home and sleep. This was the last night this would be his home, after all. Even if he’d wanted to stay, the Green Jedi’s devotion to one planet would look too much like attachment and obsession on his tendrilled face. He shouldn’t waste this last moment on bitter thoughts that the Jedi didn’t deserve.

#my ocs #swtor oc #my writing #caibos: he should be at the club #caloma: beware the party girl #swtor #caloma is. So Much. she's hard to write because we're very different people but oh man look at those coping mechanisms go

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#swtor #art #others ocs

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oh and Nemora after KOTET! girl found out her mother is dead and she lost her father BUT HEY, BROTHER IS ALIVE AND HAPPY (kinda) AND DOESN'T SERVE EMPIRE (fully) AND IS WITH HIS CHILHOOD-SWEETHEART BOYFRIEND!

#i am obsessed with her expressions actually #swtor #art #others ocs

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The damn artblock bit into me so hard that it feels like I've been drawing this forever

Felix and Esma for @residueradiation 🌌

#swtor #art #others ocs #felix iresso

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For Dash x Leo: falling asleep on the couch together (and being very flustered at their positions in the morning)

Thank you! Here it is! It ends slightly abruptly, but I couldn't figure out how to end it. Enjoy!

@tiredassmage

Read on AO3

~~~~

Laughter filled the apartment, friendly chatter following as Dash carried a tray of drinks from the kitchenette to where his guests sat around a small table, cards sprawled out between them. Leo’s chair was tipped back on two legs, balancing it perfectly as he lifted his nearly empty drink in salute to Risha as she lost more credits to his winning hand.

“You have to be cheating.” She snapped, eyes slanting suspiciously at his casual grin. “You aren’t that smart, Captain.”

“Ouch, Risha. I thought we were friends.”

Corso snorted, already so far into his cups that Dash was positive that Risha would need to carry him back to the ship. Maybe she’d just dump him in a ditch instead. With her, it could go either way.

“Friends don’t cheat each other.” She continued, brushing a stray piece of auburn hair behind ear. She took another glance at the cards on the table before sitting back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “Explains why you don’t have any.”

Leo’s mouth dropped open in pretend shock, the legs of his chair landing on the floor with a thud. “Risha, how could you?”

Dash knew he’d heard worse things come out of that pretty mouth in the past.

Jorgan grumbled under his breath, something definitely that he should’ve kept to himself before Risha’s eyes snapped to him immediately.

“If you have something to say to me, say it.”

Jorgan set his drink down, sending some of the chips scattering. “You can stop whining, your highness. You’ll get another chance to win back Daddy’s credits.”

The newest member of their game nights, Jonas Balkar, sat across the table with a look of glee on his face.

Dash sat down between Jorgan and Risha, ignoring the sharp expression that pinched her face. Handing her a refill, he motioned at the table to encompass everyone there. “Ignore them.”

Leo looked offended. “Oh, et tu, Dash? I guess I’ll need to treat some of these wounds in my back from… the knife you just put in it.”

Dash rolled his eyes, fighting a grin at the drama of it all. One thing he could count on with Leo Ashold, he made these game nights fun. “Geez, you are ridiculous. Shut up so we get the next hand dealt.”

Leo smirked, leaning forward to collect his winnings. His blue eyes sparkled with mischievous intent and Dash had to remind himself to breathe. It was difficult when his friend looked at him like that.

“Oh come now, Leo. We all know that our dashing friend here wouldn’t ever stab someone in the back.” Jonas turned his equally blue gaze on Dash, hands folded in front of him. Cocking an eyebrow, he grinned in that flirty way that the SIS agent did whenever he saw someone he liked. “Would you, Lieutenant?”

Leo’s smile faded slightly. It seemed to do that a lot around Jonas. “Stop tryin’ to distract everyone, Balkar. You’re not going to win.”

Jonas shifted his full attention to Leo, a laugh bursting from his lips. “Am I distracting you? I didn’t know you even noticed me, to be honest.”

“As if there was someone who could ignore you, Balkar.” Jorgan muttered, glaring at the spy.

“Sergeant, are you trying to tell me something?”

“I think he wants you to shut up.” Leo shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

The night went like this for another hour before their friends finally dispersed, leaving the pair alone in the now quiet apartment. Dash collapsed on the couch, the vidscreen playing some stupid series that Leo was obsessed with and that he dealt to make his best bud happy.

With a sigh, he brushed a hand through his hair, ignoring the side eye Leo gave him at the movement. Whenever Dash made a mess of his hair, Leo would fuss over it, fixing it until it was presentable despite the fact the man himself didn’t do shit with his own.

“It was another good night.�� Leo said, putting his feet on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Any other time, Dash might’ve said something about the dirty boots on his clean furniture, but he was too worn out to care. “Don’t ya think?”

Dash smiled at the question.“You managed to cheat Risha out of her credits and get Corso so drunk that you lifted his blaster off of him without him realizing it. You’re going to give it back, right?”

“Risha is not getting the credits back. I won them fair and square.” Leo pulled his hair free of its tie, letting it settle against his shoulders in soft waves.

That was a bold-faced lie if he ever heard one. “I was talking about the blaster.”

Annoyance contorted Leo’s face, almost as if he was offended, but he knew his best friend better than he thought he did. “Of course! What kind of person do you think I am?”

A loaded question that he knew better than to answer. He wouldn’t walk into that trap again.

“How many credits do you owe Jorgan?” Dash asked instead, waiting for the smuggler to sputter out the answer. 

“Just because I told him that you were my purse strings doesn’t mean that I wasn’t actually going to pay him… one day.”

“Right. Just waiting for the day he forgot you owed him.” Dash sighed, resting his arm on the back of the sofa. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Leo from where his hand lay and he had to fight the itch to brush his fingers through Leo’s dark waves. 

The ‘well, yeah’ was followed by a shrug. He would’ve slapped him if he thought it would turn the rational part of Leo’s brain on. Unfortunately for Dash, nothing seemed to work in that department.

“Jorgan isn’t going to forget, Leo.”

“So… what? He’ll pester you until-”

“Until I add a little extra to his monthly stipend and he shuts up until the next time.” 

Leo’s eyes widened in horror at the revelation. “You… what? I didn’t mean for you to actually pay him, Dash. That’s my problem, not yours.”

Dash glanced away from his bewildered expression. I care about you. It was on the tip of his tongue and he choked it back. He wasn’t drunk enough for confessions. “We’re friends. I’ll help you however I can.”

“I… uh, thanks? You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate you- uh, that. Helping me out.”

Unable to resist temptation any longer, Dash ran his hand through Leo’s hair, taking a moment to ruffle it affectionately. Leo snorted, moving out of range of another attack, blue eyes sparkling. “You’re getting all sentimental, Leo. It’s cute.”

Pink danced over Leo’s cheeks and he turned away, hiding his expression as he let out a small laugh. “I am not.”

Dash smirked, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach when Leo glanced in his direction again. “You are a little.”

Leo cleared his throat, throwing his hands behind his head and tucking himself into the sofa, an attempt at appearing relaxed that didn’t fool Dash one bit. His face was still flushed and it was the cutest kriffing thing he’d ever seen. “You’re interruptin’ a perfectly good show. Shut up.”

Rolling his eyes, Dash crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, kicking Leo’s feet off of the table.

“Hey!”

Dash lifted a finger to his lips before pointing at the screen. 

“You are not amusing.” Leo scolded him, turning his attention to the show, falling silent a moment later.

Dash wanted to keep teasing him, the temptation was too much sometimes, but the heaviness in Leo’s eyes halted any further quips. Instead, he stayed quiet, letting the show lull his friend to sleep after the long day. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep as well, but when he opened his eyes a full four hours later, he was surprised to find himself still on the couch. 

Only this time, Leo was leaning against him, head on Dash’s shoulder, tiny snores leaving his mouth. Dash stared down at him, memorizing the soft lines of his face, the way his eyes moved beneath the lids, the warmth of his body pressing into his. Dash inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the thudding heart in his chest. Leo was so close. 

He rested his arm around Leo’s shoulders, keeping him close, keeping him safe. In the morning, he’d probably have to explain their closeness. But for the moment, he was content to hold Leo.

#swtor #others ocs #what a delightful assortment of character dynamics i love it #other people's writing

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The context for this pose is twenty-year-old Ven, newly appointed Havoc Squad leader, practicing her cool poses. I like to think Jorgan is her captive audience, which is something he resents deeply at this point in their relationship.

Someday I'll like. Fix my scanner so I can scan these instead of taking shitty phone pictures. But today is not that day, today is just for me to say "look I think I made it better with colours!"

#my art #ven: never done adopting new family #(three months later he's admiring her ass but he resents that too. it's a frustrating first year for both of them really)

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I love when swtor gives me like three chances to say "yep I'm on it" because when I'm playing as Caibos the conversation becomes:

Random Republic admiral: "hey this planet needs help"

Caibos: "cool I'll go save them"

Admiral: "here is the context"

Caibos: "already said I was gonna do it"

Admiral: "wait you need more context -"

Caibos: "I am already on my ship"

#this man has never asked for context in his life. he says fuck it we trust in the force and all his companions have to deal with his shit #he stops and asks for details like once in the alliance era and everyone who knew him as a kid is like 'who the FUCK are you' #caibos: he should be at the club

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The thing about being obsessed with an MMO as someone with a fuckton of anxiety specifically around video games and how I play them is I'll be like. Fighting some guy. And then another player joins because we all have to fight the same four guys. And then immediately after the fight is over I'm fucking sprinting away because oh god what if they try to talk to me.

...so if you ever see my silly little guys in game and I fucking bolt immediately it's not you it's me. I guess.

#shout out to the person i just fought lord rashal with. you're probably very cool. i wouldnt know though. i panicked. #its been like this my whole life. i did this back in the halcyon days of pirates of the caribbean online too. yes that was baby's first one #also. uh. i did this in low stakes shit like club penguin and pixie hollow. im a MESS.

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Gonna reblog over here just in case anyone is like. what is the connection between this person and that one. it's me that's me hi this is a sideblog sorry for any confusion. also look at them!!! my beloveds. this is like a fun little primer so you don't have to dig through my blog for the character posts too so that's cool!

Assuming that you play Swtor... Who are your main 8 Ocs and what's your favorite class/romance?

muahahaha so you have in fact met at least one of them via my sideblog, @relevant-url-incoming, because you asked about Kit there, but I always welcome the chance to ramble/infodump/annoy the shit out of people who are following me for not-even-star-wars-adjacent things SO:

(disclaimer: this may get spoilery. it's all very out of context spoilers, but if anyone reading this cares about swtor spoilers. be warned.)

Ven is a name some people following me here will remember, specifically as a four year old Nautolan who adopts Dogma, the clone. She also, in the grand scheme of my silly little swtor nonsense, is a time traveller who grows up to fuck shit up in the distant past. As one does. She's my trooper and my Alliance Commander and my precious baby girl mary sue beloved. She's also committed a few war crimes in her youth but what is a war crime to the star wars galaxy anyway? nobody knows. it's fine.

Nalyan is her brother, newly introduced in the same fic series i allude to above, and my smuggler. He is... grumpy. and an asshole. and also overall much more likely to save an enemy than most of my ocs, but that always surprises people due to the grumpiness. I ship him very hard with Corso and Risha who I do not ship with each other, which makes for a delightful dynamic in my head. sometimes besties just have sex with the same man it's whatever.

Kitiver is my Jedi Knight whose anxiety made him fall big-time, and he is full of self-loathing and self-doubt. He's overall kind of neutral in how the game sets up morality but when I write him it's the inwardly directed anger and the way that splashes out onto others that keeps him dark, even though all he wants is to be a good person. He doesn't really believe he's capable of that, anymore. oops.

Kaojacol is my Consular who went from a kind of coldhearted closed off person to the biggest softie who just wants to be a good friend and wife and mom. She's... a good friend? to be fair to her the wife and mom thing kind of got out of control with the whole zakuul thing. Sorry Felix and also the kid I made up for them.

Exchei is my Sith Inquisitor and she's so nice, for someone who'll shock you with Force lightning if you piss her off. Her backstory is always kind of fresh in her mind, and she really really wants to reform the Empire and stop slavery. also if you give her something nice and expensive and don't betray her she'll love you forever, which is how Andronikos sold her on the whole romance thing when she still wasn't sure if she could trust him.

Ri'gastio is a fucking asshole and also my bounty hunter. He's just. He's the guy who does every mean thing and kills everyone he can kill and makes everyone pay for everything he does for them because he figures if the world screwed him over there's no point in him being nice. He might as well do the same. I want to smack him so badly.

Tavansa is my Sith Warrior, she is my pathetic wet cat lesbian who just wants Vette to love her in spite of her many murderous tendencies and the fact that she's kind of unbearable to be around. A real attack dog kind of person, if an attack dog was also always calculating how people might perceive her behaviour so she can make sure the people (Vette) she cares about see her in the best light possible.

Sarrant is my Agent and he's... very hard to explain honestly? Like he starts out super loyal and that gets burned to hell and back, and he falls for fucking Kaliyo of all people even though he likes to let people live and help them out and generally enjoys being nice, and he also will just cut a bitch for looking at him wrong - man has issues. He's made lighter choices than his sister Tavansa but he is equally fucked.

As for my favourite class and romance uhhhh... story-wise it probably is Jedi Knight because that shit is juicy, though i think in terms of juiciness Agent is also up there. But if we're talking straight-up soft spots I really like the trooper storyline. I like that I got to force Ven to solve the trolley problem like twenty times. That was great. She names her kid after Jaxo, that's how bad that hurt her.

I also really like romancing Jorgan, possibly also because of Ven, but especially for Timothy Omundson's little voice crack when you reunite with him. Like damn. how can i resist that. I haven't romanced Elara in-game yet but the version of her that lives in my head and is married to Ven and Jorgan is great. kind of terrified to find out if the actual romance lives up to that but I adore her so if it doesn't I shall simply rewrite it.

#ugghhh should i tag them all. that's so many tags. here i go #ven: never done adopting new family #nalyan: begging to the force to let him rest #kitiver valath: the king of anxiety #kaojacol valath: mom friend with a sword #exchei: your murderer and your best friend #ri'gastio: just the biggest asshole #tavansa: murder lesbians need hugs too #sarrant: the soft touch with a body count

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Little drawing of my imperial agent

I always spend too much time on character creator just to cover their face up with the first helmet I like

#swtor #art #others ocs #imperial agent

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@ashesfromfrost's horrible woman from a while back

#swtor #art #others ocs

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Agent.

#swtor #art #others ocs #imperial agent

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making a collection

#sarrant and kaliyo actually. god those two are awful

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Look up.

#holy shit. gotta bring my thing about ceilings into video games i see #swtor #swtor screenshots

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because @magicallulu7 has been working very hard to compound my brainrot about Kitiver, I now have a sappy little piece about him and Theron set shortly before Umbara. So. I made the sap angsty. anyway

Theron awoke to the feeling of a montral bumping up against his nose. Kit had curled up again, seeking out Theron like a tooka hiding in the crook of their owner’s knee. Theron smiled and wriggled back slightly to get a good look at him.

There was a little puddle of drool on the sheet beneath Kit’s face. Probably not what any of the Force-users who gave Kit a wide berth in the Enclave would expect, but he’d always been contradictory. Terrifying one second and sweet the next.

Not that Theron hadn’t been surprised when they first met, too. The dossier on the man who killed the Emperor had been thorough, listing his most heroic moments and his cruellest in even, clinical terms. Made an honorary general but never a Jedi Master, due to Satele’s concerns about Kit’s fall, he had seemed to accept the decision. The folks who compiled the dossier hadn’t been so sure, which was how Theron knew now that none of them had ever spoken to Kit. He hated the title of General, and he hated not being a Master – but he didn’t blame Theron’s mother. He blamed himself.

Anyway, the stories had led Theron to expect a skilled fighter with a predilection for violence that outstripped the Jedi way. Kit was all those things, but in conversation he was shy and retiring, always asking for clarification or looking to someone else for instructions. Theron had been a bit too distracted back then to put the pieces together about him, but he’d figured it out when they met up after Tython: Kit turned all his anger inward. Every perceived failure had compounded to make those yellow sparks in his eyes. So long as a person didn’t do something wrong, he wouldn’t blame them.

The thought wasn’t as comforting as it had been a year ago. Theron had done something very, very wrong. Just because it was the right thing to do didn’t change that.

Still, Kit didn’t know yet. Theron was selfish enough to take advantage as long as he could.

“What are you looking at?”

During Theron’s reverie, Kit had woken up. He uncurled his spine, wincing slightly as he stretched. He always held awkward positions too long in his sleep. Now that he had a clear shot, Theron gave in to the urge to put his hand against Kit’s warm, strong chest. Kit looked bemused, but he wriggled a little closer.

“Memorising you,” Theron said.

“Are you planning to go somewhere?”

Yes. Theron swallowed.

“I do this a lot,” he said, not lying. “You don’t usually wake up.”

“Oh,” Kit said. He looked genuinely surprised – as if all the things they’d said and done still didn’t add up to one hopelessly in love Theron Shan. Theron wanted to prove to him, once and for all, that he was worth it. He also knew that all Kit would see for a long, long time was someone who’d thrown him away.

“I…” He needed to say it. No hesitation, no distraction, just vulnerable honesty for once in his life. “Kit, I’m not great with the grand declarations, but you know I love you, right?”

He looked even more startled.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re – I know. You told me that last night, too.”

“That was a little different energy,” Theron said. Kit laughed.

“I love you, too,” he said. “Even if you are weirdly sentimental this morning.”

“Hey, you bring it out of me,” Theron said, only too happy to leave the sincerity out of his tone and return to the usual teasing. For a little while longer, at least, Kit would know the truth.

#swtor #my ocs #swtor oc #my writing #kitiver valath: the king of anxiety #theron shan #i woke up this morning and just. had emotions all over. so you know now you get to share them #valath legacy

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👀 Describe your OC through the eyes of another person! (bonus + specify who)

for kit 👀

Thank you for the ask!!! also the chance to cry over kit So I saw this ask and thought "ooh I could do a follow up on the Theron/Kit stuff!" and then immediately that snowballed into its own thing so. That's coming in a hot second because it's twice as long as this. but first have a little bit of Kira looking at baby!Kit back in the early days pre-fall

When Kira first heard about this super great padawan, she had not expected a young Togruta tripping over every third word. The fighting was a little more impressive, she could give him that – but it really was like pulling teeth to get a decisive answer out of him. She got the feeling that if he could pull his lekku across his face to hide, he would. Like a kid in an oversized sweater.

At least Kitiver was nice, though. All that anxiety made for one gentle master, and he was pretty apologetic about the whole “we’re the same age but suddenly I’m in charge of you” thing. Kira had to drive most of their conversations, which usually ended with some variation on Kit telling her that he wasn’t sure what she had to say was in line with the Jedi code, but also he wasn’t the expert. It wasn’t how Master Kiwiiks had run things, but Kira appreciated he took her thoughts seriously.

Even if his awkward, noncommittal dismissals made her think twice about most of them, somehow, anyway. He was kind of hard to disappoint. Like a baby animal. All big brown eyes set into a soft purple face that smiled easily even when he was nervous. He walked around with his broad shoulders curled inward and his head ducked, even though he ran no risk of his montrals hitting anything on the ship even with his height. Kit just never seemed to want to take up space.

Kira would just have to do it for both of them. Honestly, in a lot of ways, she suspected she was the master in the relationship. If she needed to call Kit that to boost his ego, then maybe the way Masters Orgus, Kiwiiks, and Satele had set this up was the right way after all.

#swtor #my ocs #swtor oc #my writing #kitiver valath: the king of anxiety #jedi knight #ask #kira carsen #valath legacy