#mandalorians are yolo people

[bolithesenate]

Hear me out

shereshoy = yolo

#this came to me in a feverdream #accompanied by heavenly choirs #no but honestly #you cant tell me its not exactly that #mandalorians are yolo people #mandalorians #mando'a #star wars #star wars meta #random boli thoughts

[bobathirstaccount]

Strange Bedfellows

Boba x fem!reader, slow burn to smut/romance, sparse use of Y/N, light action

Din & reader, Fennec & reader

You’re a bounty hunter who linked up with Din during Mandalorian season 2. When he teams up with Boba and Fennec, you have a strange reaction to your new ally.

***

This is from over a year ago… finally found an ending! 2 parts... posting together bc yolo, my GN lovelies 🤎🧋

***

PART I

“Are you sure we can trust them?” You asked, skeptical.

“No, but I don’t really have a choice if we’re going to get the kid back,” Din responded, not looking up from his work.

“Hm,” he was right, but that made you like it all the less.

You weren’t sure about the pair; they were widely known to be treacherous. Plus, Fett gave you a weird feeling in your stomach. You could’t quite name it, but you didn’t like it.

“I could use your support right now, please,” Din looked up at you, tilting his helmet. You sighed. “I know. I have your back.” He went back to tinkering.

***

You arrived at Slave 1 and met your other new companions. Bo-Katan and her group seemed uppity. The two mercs suddenly seemed like a much better choice. But it was done. Your three groups united awkwardly in the cargo bay. After some introductions, you all stared at each other. Everyone was in their cliques, eyeing the other groups. Finally, Rennie said, “Maybe we could build a bonfire. Get some fresh air?” There seemed to be a relieved air that passed through the room. Everyone made their way outside, grabbing flammable objects as they went.

You all sat around the fire, drinking spotchka, except for Din and yourself. He politely passed the bottle along whenever it came to him. You took it from him and passed it to Rennie. “Let’s play a game,” she suggested, accepting the spotchka. You looked amongst each other. “Like what?” Fennec asked.

“Maybe Truth or Dare.” Everyone shrugged. “I’ll go first. Boba, I pick you.”


He looked at her warily, “Truth.”

“If you had to choose between being naked or having your thoughts appear in thought bubbles above your head for everyone to read, which would you choose?”

“Naked,” he said without hesitation. “Fennec.”

She thought about it, “Truth. I don’t think I want a dare from Boba Fett.”

The game continued good naturally for a while. Finally it came to Rennie. She turned to you, “Truth or dare?”

“Do a dare,” Din said in a low voice, poking at you with a stick he’d apparently found. You didn’t know why, but you chose dare.

“Kiss Boba on the mouth.” Everyone stopped to stare. You tilted your helmet. “Can I ask for a truth?” There was nervous laughter. “You never said she had to take off her helmet,” Fennec chimed in. “True,” Cara seconded. “Well how else would she kiss him?” Bo-Katan questioned. A debate erupted into whether or not you needed to remove your helmet. You sat back, desperately relieved. The evening wound down, with the argument at a stalemate. People started to move back into Slave 1, still discussing their positions on the matter of your helmet. Rennie leaned in to your space, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. The idea of kissing Boba was not unpleasant. But with a crowd? You thought about revealing your damaged face, frowning. Your stomach churned, feeling light and full of butterflies. You stood, turning to go inside. You met Boba’s gaze. He turned and the three of you started to walk to his ship. “You know, you’re the only one who was brave enough to do a dare,” Boba commented, unbidden. Rennie laughed, “I was so shocked you said dare, I didn’t know what to do.” You again shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. You were still feeing odd about the idea of kissing Boba. The three of you broke up when you got back inside. You headed to the hammocks to get some sleep, and escape any more social interaction.

***

The next day a couple of people were still stuck on your helmet. You smiled pleasantly under your helmet. Now that some time had passed, it was a little amusing to be so fiercely debated by these warriors.

You went to the mess and found Din, Rennie, Cara, and Bo-Katan. They were discussing self defense. Or more accurately, Rennie’s inability to defend herself.

“Come on, let’s show Rennie some moves,” Din suggested.

You stood off to the side, not really participating. You were waiting for Bo-Katan to move so you could grab some food and go. A debate started again. Finally everyone moved outside. You were somehow swept up into the group, and accompanied them. You idly watched Din draw a small circle in the ground with a stick.

“Okay, who’s up for some sparring?” Rennie asked, excited.

Din nodded at you, “C’mon. You and Fennec.”

Fennec nodded and walked up into the little circle Din had drawn. You made a disapproving noise. Din poked at you with the stick, “In the circle.” You noticed Boba watching you. Somehow he had also gotten swept up into the group. You swallowed and got into the ring.

You squared off with Fennec. She took a wide stance and put her hands up. You likewise took a wide stance, but left your arms by your sides. You knew you didn’t need to have them raised. She was good, but you were better.

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Okay, start!” Rennie said.

Fennec started to circle you. You circled her, watching. She came at you like lightning. You crossed your arms and pushed back, deflecting her. You aimed for her head and punched. You connected. She went down. You stood there, shocked for a moment.

Rennie gasped.

You bent over to help her stand. “Are you okay?”

Fennec shook her head, “Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“Let’s go again?”


You sighed. Great. You didn’t meant to start a rivalry. You liked Fennec. You squared off again. This time you put your hands up, feeling guilting for head punching her. You decided to attack first, and came at her with a high kick. She went to defend. You dropped down and swept the ground with your other leg, nearly catching her. She jumped over your leg and took a step backwards to balance herself. You popped up and took a hit to the gut. You groaned and head butted her. She took a step back and went after your throat with her elbow. You leaned back, narrowly missing it. The two of you broke apart, circling.

“I’m not sure Rennie is learning anything watching you two try to hurt each other,” Boba said dryly.

“We’re having fun,” Fennec said, keeping her eyes on you.

“Maybe we should swap partners,” Din suggested.


“Fine,” Fennec dropped her hands. “We’ll spar later.” She walked past you, smacking your butt as she did. You accepted the spank seriously, not moving.

“I think Y/N should fight Boba,” Rennie blurted out.

“I don’t have a death wish,” you interjected.

“I’d like to see it,” Fennec said. You winced. No.

Boba shrugged, “Let’s actually demonstrate something.”

He walked over and nodded at you, squaring off. You did the same, raising your hands high. You knew he was going to be tough.

“Okay, show me how to block an attack,” Rennie addressed Boba.

He nodded at you. You came at him, all elbows and knees. He grabbed you and savagely flipped you on your back. You connected with the ground, nearly knocking the wind out of you. You groaned. Exactly what you thought. He was going to kick your ass repeatedly. He offered you a hand and you took it, heart pounding. His touch was electric. You tried to act casual, but felt awkward.

“Wow, that was pretty badass,” Rennie said, looking at Boba, wide eyed.


He shrugged. You swallowed. She was such a pretty thing. You thought about the scarring that spiderwebbed across the left side of your head.

“Rennie, try that move on Y/N,” Din said.

She flounced out to where Boba stood, “I get to be you now.” He faintly smiled and moved out of the makeshift arena. You growled, inaudibly.

She nodded at you. You came at her quarter power, waiting for her to flip you. She managed to. You laid on the ground, considering how you ended up there. She offered you a hand. You begrudgingly took it.

“Pretty good, let’s keep doing some easy moves,” Din said.

You sighed quietly. 

***

The team had dropped down out of orbit in Slave 1, landing neatly in a well-disguised clearing. Rennie tagged along for reasons you didn’t understand. Someone had given her a blaster. You worried about friendly fire.

The group broke apart per the plan, and you, Boba, and Rennie went to the left. You were supposed to lay down cover fire for the others. Boba prepped his cycler rifle and you got your blaster ready, ensuring the scope was still good. Rennie looked at her blaster skeptically. “Just stay behind us,” you said. Both of your companions looked up at you, surprised you’d spoken. Boba agreed with you, “Yes, stay far behind us, in fact.” Rennie nodded. You heard blaster fire start. That was the cue. You and Boba moved forward, going to your positions. You started to lay down suppressing fire.

You heard a noise of distress and turned to your right. Rennie had gotten trapped by herself. You and Boba looked at each other. You sighed. You jumped up from your location and ran to grab her. A trooper spotted her and took aim. You threw yourself through the air, connecting with her body. The blaster fire connected with your helmet, shattering it on the left side. Your HUD was cracked; red warnings blared. You landed on top of her. “Stay here,” you growled, and hopped over the barricade, running through the crossfire towards the source. You dodged and rolled, coming to stop at cover directly in front of your target. You noted you had taken damage you to left shoulder. Oh well.

You pulled your vibro blade out and ignited it. “Wait for us to provide cover fire,” your comm crackled to life, distorted due to the damage your helmet had sustained. You ignored it and hopped over. You took fire, but ignored that too. Jumping, you slashed at the nearest stormtrooper, cutting his armor and slicing him open from collarbone to navel. He went down heavily. The spray of fine blood mist hung in the air for a moment. You ran through it to your next target, the troopers with the heavy artillery. You slashed and cut, easily dispatching them.

By that time your companions had caught up to you. They took out the remainder of the troopers. Then all was quiet suddenly. The battle was over. You stood, stance wide, vibro blade still drawn, panting. Then you noticed something wet on your face. You were probably bleeding. You put your blade away and raised your hands to your helmet. You were chagrin to remove it, but it couldn’t be helped. You needed to assess the damage to your soft tissue.

You deftly clicked the buttons to release your helmet. You sighed, stopping. You noticed the others watching you. Great. You rolled your eyes. You sat down crossed legged, and quickly lifted up and placed your helmet on the sandy ground. You kept the right side of your face to them so they couldn’t see your scarring. You grabbed a mirror and checked in on your face. There was minor damage, just some slices into your already scarred head. You shrugged and pulled out some gauze to wipe it clean.

Rennie appeared. “Let me help you. You saved my life, after all.”

You stared at her. “No.”

She looked taken aback, but backed off. The others observed, but said nothing. You wiped your face, wincing as you did. You wanted to cry. Not because of the pain. You didn’t like being this vulnerable. Especially around the man that made you so uncomfortable in your skin. You shifted, hoping he wasn’t paying attention. Luckily the others seemed to now be engaged in conversation. You finished bandaging your face and then grabbed your helmet to take stock. It could be repaired, but it was useless right now. You glowered at it. You couldn’t put it back on.

You tried to casually stand up, hanging your helmet off your belt. It bumped against your hip uselessly, frustrating you all over again. You turned to look at your companions, face finally revealed. They tried to not appear curious, but it was human nature. You didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but you felt their gazes as they passed over you.

“We’re heading out, we got what we needed,” said Cara, holding up the tiny computer. You looked at it. All this for that.

You turned to leave with the group. As you headed back to Slave 1, Fennec sidled up to you.

“You had some good moves out there.” You side eyed her. “You saved Rennie’s life. And the fire you took allowed us to move our positions up.” You continued to side eye her, jaw held closed tightly. “You’re good to have in a scrape.”

You hmmd at her and continued walking, feeling your helmet thump on your leg. You weren’t in the mood to have kind things said to you. It irritated you an irrational amount. “Boba and I can help you fix your helmet. It looks salvageable.” You turned to her. “Mmkay,” you said flatly. She seemed to take the hint and dropped back, leaving you to yourself. You felt even worse now. You liked Fennec.

***
Back at the ship you continued to feel like shit. You went to the fresher and washed out your cuts, applying a bacta gel to them. It stung, but it didn’t hurt as bad as you felt on the inside. You sighed, staring at yourself. The spiderweb of scarring on the side of your skull was now interrupted by three fresh deep cuts. Your inordinately blue mechanical eye stood out against your real one. You didn’t like your face. You looked away, swallowing hard.

You finally left the fresher, trying to creep out unnoticed. It was evening. You heard everyone else eating in the observation room. You snuck past the doorway, to the cargo bay. You wanted to fix your helmet so you could get it back on your head.

You busted into Boba’s tools, not caring you were touching something that didn’t belong to you. You just wanted to be able to cover your face. You grabbed what you thought you needed, and an old rag. You headed out the gangway of Slave 1, and into the desert a few meters. You sat down on the rag like it was a picnic, spreading the tools before you. Now you could have some privacy.

An hour later, you were struggling. You weren’t the best at these small repairs, and there were a lot of wires sticking out here and there. You felt someone approach you and turned your head, left side facing the visitor. Maybe you could scare them off.

It was Boba. Your eyes widened momentarily and you turned around, embarrassed. You then froze, unsure what to do.


“Do you mind company?”
You were tempted to say yes, but it was Boba. Even though you were uncomfortable you didn’t want him to leave. You felt stupid.

“No.”

He sat down next to you. “Your helmet looks very complicated.”

You sighed and tossed it down onto the rag. “For me anyway.” You looked at your hands. They felt useless.

“Can I help you?”


You turned your head to look at him. He eyed your scarring and new wounds, but said nothing. You motioned towards it, not able to speak. He reached over and took it, grabbing a few tools you hadn’t touched yet. He set to fiddling with some wires.

“You were invaluable today.”

Not this again, you thought. “Mm,” you responded, uninterested.


He laughed softly, “You get angry when people compliment you?”

You looked at your hands. “I don’t need it.”

He eyed you. You ignored his gaze and continued to look at your hands. He said nothing, and continued to work on your helmet. The two of you sat silently. You were quietly suffering, having had to expose the truth of your face, and now sit here uncovered with the object of your — desire? You glanced at him then looked down at the sand in front of you. What a foolish thing to focus on. Things like that were not for you anymore. You were beyond that. You inhaled. You closed your eyes and thought: You were an island to yourself. You didn’t need anything. You thoughts faltered; you knew it wasn’t true. Tears formed behind your one eye. You blinked them back, but one lone tear trailed down your face. You were glad he was on the wrong side and couldn’t see.

After awhile, he sat up. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow. We should go inside for tonight.”

Surprised by his sudden intonation, you snapped your head to him. He caught your sad expression. You panicked and looked away. You stood, picking up the rag and the spare tools. You followed him inside the ship. You didn’t stop when he did, to close the ship up. You kept going, put his tools away, and slunk off. You had ditched him, but you couldn’t face him right now. Not when you were eye to eye.

You hopped into your hammock and threw a blanket over yourself, covering your battle scarred head.

***

You woke and felt something heavy on you. You pulled the blanket off your face to investigate. It was your helmet, repaired. You put your head back under the blanket and cried at the kindness.

Sniffling, you popped up quickly. No one was around. You slammed your helmet on, locking it in place. You felt safe, but also lonely. You weren’t hungry, so you decided to clean your rifle. You made your way to the cargo bay. The door was already open to the desert. You noticed Rennie and nodded at her. She smiled at you, but didn’t try to engage you in conversation.

You grabbed your rifle and disassembled it, barely paying attention. You scrubbed it to an inch of its life absentmindedly.

“You’re going to put a shine on it if you keep going.” You jumped; you had been lost in your daydream. You turned your head slowly to face Boba. You gulped. He was looking at you with an amused expression. You nodded at him, “Thank you for fixing my helmet.” He shrugged. You didn’t know what to do, so you turned back to your rifle. You grabbed some oil and began to reassemble it. Boba moved off, going outside. You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

PART II

Everyone was armored up. They were going down to sneak into an Imp base by way of Imp convoy. You and Rennie were to stay on Slave 1, waiting. You sighed, watching them go. You admired Boba’s new paint job on his armor as he made his way outside. You turned your head away from him. No need to be obvious about it. You caught Fennec looking at you. She averted her eyes.

They were gone and you were left with Rennie. You agreed to play Dejarik with her to pass the time. As you played, she talked about all sorts of things. You mostly ignored her, focusing on your next move, and thinking idly of Boba in his armor.

“Don’t you think Boba looks sexy in his armor?”

You almost coughed in surprise.

“I think so. I don’t know what it is, but he’s totally daddy. I’d fuck him in a heartbeat.”

Your hand stilled mid-move. You thought about her chances. You thought about your own. You sighed softly, sadly, and moved your piece. You looked up when she didn’t move a piece on the board. She was watching you.

“Come on, girl talk with me. Fennec and Cara suck at it.”

“Maybe I’m like them.”

She smiled at you. “I don’t think so. You’re different.”

You shrugged, uncomfortable with the friendly nature of her tone.

“Anyway, I’d totally fuck Boba. Do you think I should come on to him?”

You looked at her for a moment. Then you stood up.

“Wait don’t leave! Let’s at least finish the game.”

“I don’t want to.” You turned and left her there, feeling mean but not able to fake a polite conversation with her. You were jealous of her beauty, her bubbly personality. The way she was unafraid to tease Boba and Din. How she admitted her desires. What were you in comparison? You knew you were tightly wound, but you realized you were dangerously so. You felt like a ghost. Existing but not living.

***
The others returned; Din had apparently had to compromise himself in some way that you didn’t catch. He seemed upset and thoughtful. You let it be, knowing that sometimes one didn’t want to be bothered, even with the best of intentions.

You watched the others as they chatted and cleaned their weapons. You didn’t like the snarky bearded guy, but he was apparently indispensable. He said a sarcastic remark to you and you left the room, tired of him already.

You walked down the gangway of the Slave 1 and crouched about halfway down. You didn’t know what you were doing, but the suns were setting so you decided to watch.

You felt a presence beside you and looked up. It was Boba. You stared. He looked down at you, “How’s your helmet working?”

”Perfectly.”

There was a pause. “Fennec calls me reticent; I think you have me beat,” he said, sitting down next to you. You remained in your crouched position, unsure what was happening.

“Just don’t have a lot to say,” you ventured.

“That’s okay.” He settled in next to you. You sat, awkwardly aware of how close he was to you. You stared straight ahead at the suns. The first started to dip below the horizon.

“What are your plans after we get the kid back?”

You turned your head involuntarily, surprised. He had a neutral expression on his face. You shrugged. “No plans.”
“Would you like to join Fennec and I?”

You stopped breathing. “Why?”

“You’re good in a fight. I’ll need that.” You narrowed your eyes. Would he?

“Hn.” You sat back.

“You don’t need to answer now.”

“I’ll do it,” you winced at your quick response.

“Good.” He continued to sit.

“What are our plans?” You tried to sound nonchalant.

He smiled slightly, “Settling some scores.”

The two of you sat there until Rennie appeared.


“Whatcha two doing, having a date?”

You didn’t turn around.

“If only I were so lucky,” Boba turned to her.

She laughed. “Well, let’s make it a threesome.” She plopped down on Boba’s other side. You tried to ignore the anger that had flared up. You thought about getting up and going back into the ship. But you were loathe to leave Boba’s side. It felt nice. Even with Rennie. You tried to be content.

Rennie struck up a conversation with Boba. You didn’t pay attention, instead watching the stars come out. You tilted your head up to see better. After awhile you felt a hand on your shoulder. You snapped your head to see who was touching you. You met Boba’s gaze, and your rigid posture softened slightly. “Time to go inside.” He squeezed your shoulder, then stood, turning from you. You followed him in.

***

“So I hear you’ll be joining us,” Fennec said, folding some of her spare clothing. You shrugged, swinging in your hammock. “Well I think that’s great.”
You knew you had to say something, “Me too.”

She smiled and stuffed her clothes into her cubby hole.

“Whatya ladies talking about?” Rennie walked up, wrapped in a towel and straight out of the fresher.

“She’s joining Boba and I after we get the kid back,” Fennec nodded towards you.

Rennie’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, how’d you manage that?”

You shrugged again. Fennec answered for you, “She’s a great fighter, brave. We need someone like her.”

Rennie seemed let down. “Yeah that’s true. She is.”

It felt weird to have yourself discussed so much. You sat up, intending to leave. Rennie smiled, “And now we’ve spoken too much and she’s off.” You were indignant. You leaned back into your hammock and looked at her. She laughed, a silverly light sound. You wanted to punch her in the throat.

Fennec smiled at the exchange. “You know she’s right though, girl,” she said laughingly. You sat there and took it, not knowing what to do.

Cara appeared. “We’re about 5 hours out.” You all nodded somberly.

***

You sat and watched Boba shoot at the Imp ship. You yawned; boring. He soon shot away into jump space. Your final destination was orbiting some moon, waiting for news from the other half of the team. It was now or never to get the kid.

“Wow that was exciting!” Rennie exclaimed.

Boba shrugged, standing from the pilot seat. “I’m going to take a nap.” You smiled at that.

“Can I join you?” You and Boba exchanged a helmet tilt, then looked at Rennie. She looked at him innocently. You felt defeated.

“No,” he said, brushing past both of you. You smiled, then schooled your face into a neutral expression. Stupid to take that as a victory; it didn’t mean he preferred you. He brushed past the both of you to his quarters.

“Fuck my life, I can’t believe...” Rennie trailed off.

You tried not to look at her, but turned your head.

“Do you think he even likes girls?” She asked incredulously.

You were not going to engage in that conversation. You had also wondered the same thing, as your hands wandered over your body. But there was no need to share that with Rennie. You got up and walked to the mess to get a snack. You felt a presence behind you and casually turned, assuming it was Rennie. You straightened. It was Boba. He leaned against the doorframe. You tilted your helmet slightly, questioning. He dipped his head in your direction, “You could join me.” Your mouth went dry and you realized it was slightly open. You exhaled the breath you had abruptly held. He turned then and started down the hallway. You followed him, compelled. He headed straight to his quarters. You entered before the door could swish shut.

Inside you looked around. It was lit by a single lamp in the corner. Blasters and several dangerous looking staffs dangled from the walls. A bed jutted out along one wall. He removed his helmet and turned to you. You looked into his eyes from behind your helmet. Your hands slowly went to your head. He watched your every move. Your helmet clicked and softly hissed as you opened it. You removed it, awkwardly hugging it to yourself. You looked down at his cuirass. “Look at me,” he commanded. You looked up, meeting his gaze. He reached a hand out to touch the damaged side of your face. He ran a thumb over your milky blue eye and the scarring around it. You closed your eyes, wishing for Rennie’s perfect skin. He continued to trace your scars. Your eyes opened slowly.

He grabbed you by your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You dropped your helmet, swept up. He drug you towards the bed. You were busy trying to get his armor off. He deposited you on the bed, then started to undo his armor. You sat uncomfortably, not wanting to get naked. Eventually you undid the zipper to your suit, pulling it down to your navel. You slipped out of it, kicking your boots off. This left your thin under suit. You looked up. Boba had shed his armor and was looking down at you. You swallowed and kept going, unzipping and shimmying out of it. The cool air hit your skin, giving you goose bumps. You shivered slightly. Warm leather ran its way up your arm, shoulder and neck. He grabbed you by your neck again.

You reached out and grabbed his hips. Your hands dug through the fabric, finding his cock. He groaned and his grip tightened. You undid his pants and leaned in, searching for and finding the head of his cock with your lips. You licked the tip and then took the head in your mouth, sucking. His strong hand urged you for more. You obliged, sliding more of his length into your mouth. He moaned softly and gently bucked his hips. You gagged a little, then gagged yourself on him on purpose, taking most of him into your mouth and throat.

“Hn.. mesh’la,” he whispered coarsely. You continued your ministrations, sucking and twirling your tongue around him, until he was straining under you. He still had you by the neck, and so pulled you up off of him and up across his torso. He gave you a heated kiss that you gladly returned. He pushed you back into the bed and fell into it on top of you. He positioned himself between your legs and stopped, looking up at you.

“Why you stopping,” you panted.

He smiled and plunged into you, making you yelp in surprise and pleasure. He stretched you out deliciously, making you spread your legs obscenely. You moaned and wrapped your arms around him, trying to further pull him inside of you. You wanted all of him. He fucked you like a desperate man. And you were equally desperate to have him. You pulled him close to you, crooning sweet nothings and asking for more. He started to rail into you, groaning as he did. You arched your back and splayed yourself out before him. He bit your throat softly. You moaned and asked for more. He pulled your hair and bit you harder, making your pussy clutch around him. He mmmd at you and licked your throat, then laid a harder bite down. You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him. He switched to hard, slow strokes, which quickly became irregular. You threw your head back and enjoyed him fucking you. You felt him sucking hickeys onto your collar bones and throat as he pounded into you. He switched angles slightly and you curled your toes, orgasm ripping through you suddenly. You moaned and rocked your hips.

“Good girl, mesh’la, cumming for me like that,” he murmured into your ear. The comment made you groan and squeeze him with your hips. “Cum in me,” you commanded breathlessly. “I’m safe,” you added. He buried his face in your shoulder and bit you, grunting as he came. You felt him deep in you. He pulled out slowly, kissing your throat up to your chin. He stayed on top of you, looking down. You met his gaze, content but slightly confused. He shifted his gaze to your lips and licked his. Your eyes widened.

He slowly lowered his head until your faces were centimeters apart. He pressed his lips against yours, chastely at first. You kissed back softly, and he deepened the kiss. The kiss became heated, surpassing your expectations. You wrapped your limbs around him, consumed. When you finally came up for air, you both gasped for it. You looked at him dubiously. He had an open expression. You gazed into his eyes for a moment, trying to figure him out. Unable to, you tried a different route.

“What does mesh’la mean?” You asked softly.

He met your gaze, “Beautiful.”

You closed your eyes momentarily, trying to hold back the tears that sprang up. He nuzzled you. “You are, you know.” You shook your head, “Maybe from one side.” He snorted, “No.” He ran his bare fingers over your scarring. You couldn’t meet his gaze. He dropped his hand to the mattress and sighed. “Why do you try to separate yourself from everyone?”

You shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “I don’t like attention.” He hmmd at that. You carefully reached out and touched him. He was warm and alive; not something you were used to being so close to. “Why did you ask me to join you?” He smiled, “I like you.” Your eyes flicked up to him.

Suddenly an alert blared. You sat up, alarmed. He sat up more slowly. “It’s time to go pick up our comrades.” He got out of bed and dressed. You followed suit. The last thing was your helmet. You turned it around to look at it. You put it back on. The familiar hiss of it closing over your head was comforting as always.

You followed Boba to the cock pit. Rennie joined the two of you moments later. “What’s happening?”

“Time to go pick everyone up,” you said. She turned to you, surprised that you’d spoken. You shrugged. Boba entered jump space then.

***

The trip was short. You had arrived to a dismal mood. The kid was nowhere in sight. You wanted to ask but held your tongue. Once everyone was loaded into Slave 1, it was again in jump space, headed towards Tattooine. Boba’s business was apparently there.

“Where’s the kid?” Rennie asked. You rolled your eyes at her lack of sense.
“He left with a Jedi,” Din spoke softly.

Your eyes widened. A Jedi had come, after all. You got goosebumps.

“Wow, that’s crazy!” Rennie exclaimed.

Boba sat down next to Din quietly. He exchanged some words that were spoken softly, only for Din. Din nodded his head, crestfallen. You felt terrible he had lost his kid. Even if it was for a good reason. The kid would be safe now. But separated from his father. You felt some pain for Din. You moved past the scene to the others. Bo-Katan looked distraught. You didn’t want to ask, but were amused by her apparent distress.

Fennec carefully pulled you aside. “Din lost his kid to a Jedi.” You nodded quietly, still sad for him. “He also defeated Gideon and won the Darksaber. That’s why she looks constipated.” She motioned to Bo-Katan with a slight nod of her head. You hmphed. “Sounds complicated.” She nodded almost imperceptibly. “Good thing we’re separating from them soon.” You were surprised at her statement, but it was true. Boba had fulfilled his promise to Din. You nodded, thinking about Din and what he would do now. “What do you think Din will do now?” You asked. She shrugged, “He has a lot of choices to make.”

She separated from you, squeezing your forearm, “More girl talk later.” You looked over at Din and Boba. They were still talking, but had switched to Mando’a. Rennie had inserted herself into the duo and was currently leaning against Din. You felt badly for Din. But you let him be; Boba and Rennie had it covered you figured. You nodded at Cara and the other female Mando, uninterested. They seemed to share your enthusiasm.

There was a lot of emotions swirling around and it was affecting you. You went to your hammock to get a bit of space. As you swung, you thought about the day’s events. What had happened with Boba? You weren’t sure what had motivated him. It was impossible to speculate.

***

You woke up later, having not realized you fell asleep. The ship was quiet, dimly lit. Night mode. You noticed the other full hammocks hanging around you. You stretched and realized you were fully awake. You got up slowly, not wanting to wake anyone. You snuck out to the observation room, interrupting Din and Boba. They were still talking. You stopped, “Hello.” They nodded at you.

“Din, I’m... sorry.” You said. He held out his hand and you took it with both of yours, rubbing it lightly. Boba shifted his weight, surprised at the show of intimacy. You looked up at him, but then back to Din. He seemed to perhaps be crying under his helmet. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held his head to your chest. You dropped your head onto his; your helmets clinked. You held him for a beat, then separated. You squeezed his shoulder, then went off to the mess.

***

Tattooine was as dry as ever. Slave 1 had landed in the middle of the night in the sands. You had rejoined Boba and Din after grabbing some food, and had watched Boba go off to bring Slave 1 to the planet’s surface. You had asked Din what his plans were.
“I don’t know.” He had answered simply. You had nodded, knowing. “I think I’m going to get some sleep.” He stood, unsteady on his feet. “Sleep well,” you said, hoping it didn’t sound as inane as it felt to say it. You watched him, then returned your attention to the empty room. You thought about Boba, and went in search of him. He was in the cockpit, running some kind of maintenance sequence on the ship.

”Weird time for maintenance,” You commented, leaning on the back of his seat.

“Hm,” he said, not turning around.

“What do you think Din will end up doing?” Your thoughts were still with him and the kid.

“Perhaps you will find out first hand?”

“Huh? Is he staying with you too?”

”Are you sure you made the right choice? I didn’t know you two were... so close.”

You tilted your helmet. You could tell he was watching your reflection in the Slave 1’s window. “What are you saying?” He didn’t respond, didn’t move.

“I’ve known him about two months longer than I’ve know you and Fennec. But I know you better.” You looked away from his reflection, down at his head.

He shrugged. “So you haven’t... napped with him?”

You snorted. “Seriously?” He shrugged again. Your slid your hand down from his seat to the fabric of his shoulder. You laid it there lightly. You didn’t know what to say, but you wanted to express that you wanted him. He grabbed it lightly, then let his hand drop. He paused the sequence, then stood and turned towards you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up into his visor. His hands went to your neck. He grabbed your helmet and unlocked it. He slowly pulled it over your head and discarded it on his seat. You blinked at the change in lighting. He pulled off his own helmet and dropped it into his chair as well.

“What are we going to do, then?” You looked up at him. He was smiling, for him. Your cheeks got a little hot.

“Take another nap?” He grinned.

#boba x you #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #boba smut #boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x y/n #boba fett fanfiction #star wars smut

[snarwor]

moon and old stars - chapter 1

I blame @badwolfbadwolf for every single word of this. Din Djarin/Boba Fett Daddy Kink with a side of Emotional Hurt/Comfort? I’m fuckin AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA damn it I’m writing Star Wars fic again. What’s this ship name? Link to AO3 at the bottom. No warnings so far. Also: this is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr so if there’s formatting issues yolo

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He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t. He was practically forty cycles old and he knew better. Here he was, without a damn starship, without the kid, bereft of enough credits to make a difference, and he was spiraling out of control due to the residual guilt and shame which had come with taking his helmet off at the refinery on Morak. He’d compromised himself, his Creed, his people.

And the damn Fett wasn’t talking to him, to top it off. That’s just great.

It wasn’t much of a Way if you kept meandering vaguely off course, listing on just this side of heresy.

Cara and Fennec had gone off in search of food on some outpost near the Outer Rim, a few days’ travel behind Gideon, and therefore Grogu. Din was left alone in Slave I with Boba Fett, and he was practically crawling out of his skin.

He’d rehearsed the bad idea so many times in his head, but somewhere between his mind and his mouth the words changed from “Wanna go shoot something?” to “I need a distraction.”

The old bounty hunter was sitting at the console near the hyperdrive, sans helmet, as he was used to. Din’s hands were shaking in their gloves, but the gloves and his armor were sturdy enough to hide it from the common man’s eye.

Boba Fett was not a common man. He was a Mandalorian, if not by Creed then by race, and he knew exactly the deadly mix of poisons which had led Din to this point better than... kriff, better than anyone else in this blasted galaxy.

His eyes, so level and sure, so calculating and sharp it felt like there wasn’t any beskar between them, regarded him and his request. Din hadn’t asked, he was past the point of asking. He was desperate to get his mind off of the vicious circle of imagining what the kid was going through. Fett stood and straightened his back.

Din wasn’t a slight man, by anyone’s definition. He was strong enough to wield and wear the armor, to make it this long as a guild bounty hunter, to survive the training and the trauma that came from just living in the wild galaxy. But Boba Fett was a clone, he was created to be the most powerful kriffing bastard this side of the stars, and he was engineered smarter, faster, and stronger. He had a hand’s length on him in height, and Din was eager to know what that would feel like, without the armor, without the boots, without—

But Fett hadn’t spoken yet, he hadn’t even given anything away that Din could overthink about. He was sweating all over the inside of his helmet, worse than when he first put one on as a teenager. He swallowed roughly, and the vocoder picked it up, a soft crackle putting his nervousness on display.

“Come with me.”

It was three words, which were more than enough of an order for Din’s head to swim, and he followed like Fett had said to. He was led to a berthing at the far edge of the ship. The matter of fact way Fett had interpreted his request for a distraction as “I’m taking you to bed” made him swoon a little on his feet. “I don’t lay with armor. You’ll have to take it off.”

“But—”

“If I wanted to lay with a droid, I’d lay with a droid. It comes off.”

Again, Din was brought to heel by three short words. And really, what was there left of himself that he could hold tight to and pretend was honorable? How much of himself had he given up in just the last few months? What part of him actually still fit, hidden behind buckles and clasps and plates and signets?

He forced himself not to think about it. His need was great. Back on Morak, he’d felt the same need take control, blurring the line in his head that was at one point, uncrossable. Now, his whole mind was blurred, and he felt the air in his helmet was hot and stifling. Piece by piece, the armor around him came off, and with it, his cares and self-respect. He was willing to debase himself for one petty distraction.

In for a credit, and all.

The chest plate acted as sort of a holding dish for the rest, keeping it nice and tidy and out of Fett’s way as he bared every part of himself. Fett watched with an unreadable expression as pale skin was uncovered, as cloth-covered elbows and socked feet revealed itself to the room. The door was shut, there was some semblance of safety here, but the recklessness with which Din stripped himself gave the old man something to worry about.

Finally, in just his soft skin-layer clothes, all that was left was the damned helmet. Din felt his lips wobbling beneath it, and set his jaw. It’s just a distraction. It’s just enough to get me by. Then I can bottle the shame and find a way to repent for my actions. This is the Way.

The light in the room was dim, like Fett had known Din’s eyes needed to adjust. The helmet sat atop the rest of the armor with a soft thud, finality in its tone. Din let out a shuddering breath, and his eyes went to the floor, his head with it. He’s worn the helmet so long that he was unused to peripheral vision when he had it.

“Look at me.” Three-word sentences were a favorite of Fett’s, so it seemed. “You are not of a Creed you can disappoint while in here. The only truth is that you are mine.”

Din’s eyes flashed up, and his jaw dropped. That strange cadence to his voice, the accent, it was unfamiliar enough to his ears that it set the stage for what came next. “Yours?” he croaked, almost flinching at the new acoustic quality his voice had.

“Mine.” Fett sat on the edge of his bed, and made no motion for Din to follow, so he remained standing. “You are unfamiliar with this kind of activity. Good. There’s nothing you can do, or have done, that will change how I treat you here. We will start small. You will follow my orders. If you are confused about something, you will ask. If something is wrong, you will say ‘beskar’ and we will stop. No one else is allowed to know about this. I will not speak of it, and neither will you. This will not follow outside of here unless we speak of it. Do you have any questions?”

Millions.

“No.”

“Kneel here.” Fett pointed with a single, gnarled finger to a point on the ground by his feet. Din made a soft noise of resistance, but a firm look reminded him that he was to follow Fett’s orders. He slowly went to his knees, and walked forward on them, closer, to Fett’s side. He thought they were going to do this on the bed. “Get comfortable.”

He spoke like he’d rather be talking in a different language, but for Din he’d keep speaking in Common. Din adjusted his kneeling stance so his back wasn’t slouched. They often meditated in the cloister and learned to stay very still despite discomfort, but Fett had told him to get comfortable, so he did, though once he’d found it, he began to fidget.

“Put your head here.” Fett patted his lap. Surely there was an easier way for him to do this…? Din wasn’t sure he’d be able to reach Fett’s cock in this position. “Your mind is jumping several steps ahead. We are not moving past this now. Relax your mind.”

“I asked for a distraction, not a guided meditation,” Din grumbled, resisting and testing the waters a little. Fett seemed quick to temper despite his glacial expressions, but in here, he took the little barb like Din hadn’t even said anything.

“You will get what you need, and nothing more unless you follow what it is I’m saying. Put your head here. I won’t repeat myself again.”

Din gently rested his head against Fett’s thigh. It was a strange sensation, to feel warmth there not brought by engine heat or the flash-burn of a sonic shower, or his own body heat trapped in the helmet. The fabric over his thigh was a rough canvas, but not too thick that it hid the warmth from the man wearing them.

“Good. That’s good.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Fett put a hand on his head, not grabbing, just resting. He took deep breaths and calmed his heart down.

He’d spent so many months taking a sharp blade to his hair, thinning it down as soon as it was long enough to curl. He didn’t like to meet his own eyes in the mirror as he worked, only looked at his face enough to do a cursory, impersonal shave and haircut, and only when absolutely necessary. He felt he owed it to the Creed that he didn’t indulge in time spent out of the helmet, in things like vanity and pride.

But now, with Fett’s hand on his head, and his head on his thigh, kneeling at his feet because he’d been told to, he wished he’d spent a bit more time making sure it was at least even. Insecurity and shame bubbled inside of him, and it made damn sure Din knew how unworthy he was of a signet, of the helmet, of the gifts given by his people. Through many years and lonely nights, even after he met the kid, he’d found himself in moments of physical pain, but never enough to make him cry like a child.

This simple act, it seemed, was enough.

It started slow, a prickling spark behind his eyes, a flash of radiant embarrassment on his cheeks. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. His vision blurred with tears, and they fell, uninhibited, from his eyes. If Fett noticed, he didn’t speak about it, and didn’t move his hand back. His thigh and his hand were the only two points in the galaxy that could tether Din back to himself, and he was holding on tightly to that sensation.

Those fingers curled into unevenly-cut hair, a gentle scritch against a sensitive scalp, and Din cried harder. Under the sounds of his gasps and silent, shuddering sobs, he heard humming. It wasn’t a song he recognized, but the tune became familiar the more Fett repeated it, in a deep register that matched his entire demeanor.

Din’s hands came to wrap around Fett’s calf, holding on hesitantly, but tighter once the song interrupted with a “Hm,” of assent. Now he had four points of tethering, and it was easier for Din to let the tears carry away his shame and injuries to his pride.

He didn’t know how long he was down there, knelt by Fett’s feet, but when he felt fine enough to look up, he was surprised to meet Fett’s eyes. He somehow knew Fett hadn’t looked away even once in the whole time Din had knelt. “You were very good for me,” Fett said, a soft quality to his voice that made Din’s breath catch. The hand on his head shifted and cupped the back of his neck, and Din’s eyes fluttered shut. How long had it been…? Never, his mind said. You’ve never felt like this.

“What was that song?” Din asked, his voice terribly hoarse and small.

“It’s an old one, so old time forgot the words but not the sound and story. It told a tale about an old star shooting across the galaxy, and when it sailed past a moon made of crystals so clear it looked like starlight, it stopped, pulled into orbit by a thing so beautiful it was helpless against the laws of the universe. My father used to sing it to me, and now I sing it to you.”

Din didn’t know what to make of that, but said, “That sounds like a nice story. Will you teach me the song?”

“I will. But not now. The others will be back soon. You may want to clean up.”

Din noticed the uncomfortable feeling of tears dried on his face, and felt the wave of self-consciousness return, though it was greatly subdued.

“There’s a shower on board.”

“Thank you.” Din kept his eyes down, gathering up his things again, his pieces.

“You’re welcome, any time you need it.”

“What if I don’t need it?” Din said, trying to cover his vulnerability with...something else.

“Then you don’t need it,” Fett said, calm as anything. He stood.

Sure enough, those five inches Fett had on him were made starkly apparent when Din stood in none of his armor. Certain men carried a metaphorical weight with them when they walked, and others carried an imagined height that let them look down on others. Boba Fett was bigger in both senses, but did not use his power to belittle or condescend at Din. He exuded a presence of comfort and safety, a peace that Din had thought inaccessible for himself for so very long.

He felt held, though they stood apart.

“I’ll just. Shower.” Din said, awkwardness filling his lungs.

As soon as he was in the small ‘fresher, he closed the hatch and wondered what in the kriff just happened.

Read on AO3.

Chapter two.

#star wars fanfiction #din djarin/boba fett #mandalorian fanfiction #if past me saw now me she would be very disappointed #my writing #moon and old stars

[doopcafe]

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (Seasons 1--6), Final Analysis

Well, I made it through. 

Let’s be absolutely clear: The Clone Wars (TCW) is not good television. For the most part, it’s not even watchable television. The show suffers from serious fundamental issues in nearly every aspect of storytelling. Characters are underdeveloped and inconsistent; the dialogue is expository and contradictory; the tone is disjoint and jarring; and most episodes serve no greater purpose than to be a twenty-minute vessel to house lightsaber fights. 

So I want to put this part of the show to rest before I move on to Star Wars: Rebels (and before returning to watch season 7). 

With two exceptions, the show poorly handles twists and reveals. In the earlier seasons, reveals were spoiled mostly due to telegraphing: Captain Sleaze in Cloak of Darkness, Senator Clovis in Senate Spy, and Yolo (?) in Senate Murders come to mind, but there were others. In later seasons, telegraphing was supplanted by “small universe syndrome” as the primary cause of spoiled reveals. In The Academy, a cloaked figure was seen doing shady, back-alley deals, but his identity could only have been the Prime Minister. During the “Ahsoka framed” series, Barriss was obviously the traitor, simply because her character suddenly reappeared after four seasons and there were no other candidates. 

Probably the most successfully executed reveal was that of Krell, as his assholeness was at least initially masked as military rigidity. But even so, it was so over-the-top that when the reveal finally came to light, it felt more like an overdue disclosure than a dramatic twist. It didn’t help that, by that point in the show, the format of “asshole = upcoming reveal” had been firmly entrenched into the show’s DNA. 

I would argue that the most effective plot twist of the entire show was when the dancer/singer girl shot and killed Ziro the Hutt in Hunt for Ziro. Although irrelevant to the greater story, it was an actual twist because it was strongly implied the opposite would happen (i.e., Ziro would betray the girl). If there is to be a second place, that award would go to Ahsoka’s decision to leave the Jedi Order at the conclusion of The Wrong Jedi. But this leads me into my next point...

Who was the main character of The Clone Wars? If we go by the logic that whoever had the most screen time was the main character, then Anakin probably wins over Ahsoka. But if we go by the logic that the most developed character was the “main character,” then this is a show about Ahsoka. Ahsoka---more than any other character---grows in a noticeable way (from impatient, violent child to impatient, slightly less violent teenager). In contrast, Anakin in Rising Malevolence is the same character as Anakin in Voices (only a little more violent and angry for some reason). 

It’s unfortunate that her major character moments were never capitalized on. Intentionally sacrificing herself for the greater good in Weapons Factory apparently led to no lasting repercussions on her character. Her impatience and disobedience led to the deaths of thousands in Storm over Ryloth, but was similarly forgotten immediately afterwards. Even Ahsoka’s major character moment at the end of The Wrong Jedi resulted in her walking away from the show, never to address the implications of that decisions (although I suppose that’s the subject of Season 7). 

On a different note, the show was riddled by a shameful amount of “references” and fan service, for reasons exclusively external to the story. These “nods” ranged from the obvious “Obi-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope” (or whatever Senator Jimmy Smits says in Cat and Mouse) to the innocuous design of a droid or background device. 

These “references” are objectively problematic for at least a few reasons. (1) They contribute to the sense that the universe is a really, really small place. Is the Mos Eisley cantina really the only place in the Outer Rim where shady deals go down? Is carbon freezing really the only way to store a person in stasis for transport? How long do Rodians live for anyways? Greedo’s gotta be what, like 80 when Han shoots him in A New Hope? It’s ironic that ultimately, this incomprehensibly large, diverse galaxy actually feels much smaller after watching this series because we keep going to the same twelve places...

(2) “Fan service” is tricky to get right because different people have different memories and impressions of the source material. In result, copying material will oftentimes comes across as a blatant misunderstanding of the original content. For example, to me, Vader put Solo into carbon freeze because it’s what Lando had lying around. It’s not a galactically established method of transporting people. Obi-Wan trained Luke with those laser balls aboard the Falcon because Han had them lying around and Obi-Wan needed to improvise a training exercise to kill time. 

(3) "References” and “nods” usually are just a band-aid for a lack of creativity. Some of the better episodes in the initial seasons were just direct rehashes of famous movies. Seven Samurai, Godzilla, Stray Dog, The Most Dangerous Game, King Kong... I mean, it’d be pretty impressive to mess-up stories like these, but it’s concerning that there were just so many episodes made from other people’s stories. 

These “references” even seep into the most innocuous of scenes. When Prequel!Wan lands on Mandalore to attempt a rescue of Satine from Darth Maul, one of the Mandalorians takes aim at him, only to have their blaster pushed down by their companion who’s shaking their head. This is a direct reference o the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine when Luke went after R2 in the desert. Even if this scene served an important plot purpose (it didn’t), there’s undoubtedly a multitude of ways to communicate the same thing. Instead, a small reference to the OT is interjected into the show, deimmersing the audience from the events shown. Unfortunately, this is just one (very small) example of hundreds over the whole show. 

Let me say something positive. The episodes that worked best (especially early in the show's run) were ones that focused on mortal people, usually the clones. Innocents of Ryloth was one of the first watchable episodes, simply because we didn't have to sit through twenty minutes of unlikable, unrelatable “Jedi” and instead followed around a pair of troopers helping a little girl using their limited abilities. Likewise, Pursuit of Peace was way more enjoyable than it probably should have been, simply because the story was understandable, the consequences clear, and the drama real. Plan of Dissent (when the clones actively rebel against Krell) was also noteworthy for similar reasons: clones we liked must subdue a “Jedi” we’ve learned to hate. 

This isn’t to say that episodes focused on the major characters were inherently unenjoyable, it’s just that none of these characters had any room to grow (with the exception of Ahsoka). Dooku, Grievous, Anakin, Prequel!Wan... They were the same characters as portrayed in Episode II and III. As presented, there was nowhere for these characters to go. Dooku was literally identical at the beginning of the series as he was at the end, and the same can be said about the others. 

But these are false constraints the writers imposed upon themselves. Grievous was not in Episode II and was introduced in Episode III. TCW could have started him however they wanted and then illustrated his change into the character he later becomes. Who was he? What was his motivation? Why did he hate Jedi so much? The show was handed a completely clean slate to deliver a character from scratch, but instead we were immediately shown “Episode III General Grievous” with zero introduction because fans were expected to already know who he was. 

This is partly why the backstory episode to Grievous was so compelling, at least in premise: viewing his home was personal to his story and it represented a chance to learn a bit more about the character and where he came from. Of course, it was mostly mishandled by a reliance on meaningless action, but the high ratings of that particular episode suggest there was room for quality television here, it just was never capitalized on.

Instead, we have completely static caricatures, especially for minor characters from the movies. Admiral Tarkin, Admiral Ackbar, Greedo (among others) were written out of cardboard and their roles in the plot could have just as easily been played by anyone else (there was nothing unique about their roles that required them to be these characters). 

This is a shame because a lot could have been done with the established premise to really focus on Anakin, his motivations, and his relationship to his Padawan. I would have been okay with a lot of backtracking if it meant I could begin to grasp his “fall” to the Dark Side. Instead, I’m honestly more confused than ever about his motivation.

One argument is that Anakin joins the Dark Side because he like, “loves” Padme (or whatever). However, what we’re shown in this show---consistently, clearly---is that Padme and Anakin have a toxic, dysfunctional relationship. He is uncomfortably jealous and rarely trusts her. They argue nearly every time they’re together. Their “love” (or whatever) must remain secret, equating their relationship to something “wrong” or even “illegal” that must be kept secret, even on the verge of death. In a later episode, Anakin orders Padme to listen to him because he’s the “man” and, as his wife, she doesn’t have a say in the matter. This is clearly a broken relationship and the best result is the one that actually happens: They stop seeing each other. Anakin wants to save this woman from a vision? Why? 

This brings up a second point, which is that Anakin can’t stand the pain of losing someone. His desire to protect those close to him may be Anakin’s only redeeming trait. He has a single selfless scene (in the entire show) during the opening of Jedi Crash where he sacrifices himself to delay an explosion and save his companions. I want to stress that any other scene where Anakin saves or helps someone isn’t done because he’s a good person, it’s done because he’s a broken person. It’s done because he, personally, would struggle with the emotional toll of knowing he allowed someone close to him to be hurt or die. In other words, he’s doing nice things for selfish reasons. 

As far as I’m concerned, Anakin has always been Darth Vader. He is given choices between being a Jedi and allowing a lot of people to die, and he enjoys choosing the second. In Ghosts of Mortis, we’re shown that the threshold between “Anakin” and “Darth Vader” is disconcertingly low, requiring only a few choice words and less than a minute to convert him. In short, what I’ve learned from TCW regarding Anakin Skywalker is that he was an unlikable dick, and his “turn” to the Dark Side was just a long-overdue reveal. 

While the later seasons worked towards the events in Episode III in a way that at least made a bit of sense, earlier seasons were focused on adult-themed wacky hijinks. In a way, the show almost would have worked better as a kid’s show, but this was clearly meant for adults: politics, war, slavery, and lots and lots of horrific violence. In comparison, the silly adventures of Star Wars: Resistance worked well because the show didn’t take itself too seriously. It was very clearly, from the start, a lighthearted show about kids going on fun adventures. In contrast, TCW suffered because its themes were adult in nature, but was portrayed as a Saturday morning cartoon show. The humor was misplaced, the tone disjointed from actual events, and the violence excessive. 

Let me say a few words on the “Jedi.” Initially I labeled them as overpowered (OP), because in earlier episodes they seemed invincible and dissolved tension in every scene. Later, we see a slew of them get cut down as plot fodder, even against widely different situations. We see Luminara and others push through hoards of droids only to see “Jedi” Master Yoda-like dude get taken down by a dog. We watch as Fisto *heh* powers through entire battalions and the cone-head guy counting coup against an army, only to watch as pink girl gets shot in the face by a single clone who stands in front of her for several seconds before pulling the trigger. 

It’s nearly impossible to feel tension in these scenes because the metrics for judging the true strength of a “Jedi” keep shifting as a function of the plot requirements. Anakin suddenly forgets how to use the Force when the plot needs his help to fake some drama. Prequel!Wan pointlessly fist fights with a slaver cat for an hour until the plot needs him to get back up again and OP everyone in the room. Even their ships are only as strong or weak as the plot needs them to be. Plo Koon’s fleet is devastated in seconds in order to portray the Malevolence as being a threat; Anakin’s fleet powers through a larger force three times its size because Anakin’s like, really mad about something. 

Secondly, the “Jedi,” in general, were unlikable assholes. They were consistently portrayed as violent and ignorant and I struggled to understand them as real people. Frequently, we witnessed them torture victims, default to a lightsaber to solve problems, and enjoy death to the point of counting coup against sentient life forms defending their homes. Anakin threatened civilians with his lightsaber. Ahsoka was annoyed when she’s asked not to murder a defenseless creature in Jedi Crash. Prequel!Wan and Anakin team up to hurtle enormous rocks into a beaten monster in Dooku Captured. A trio of Jedi Masters mentally gang bang a shackled Cad Bane. They supported state terrorism when it suited their needs, but agreed to abandon their friends for political reasons. 

I mean, these are not good people...

This is a shame, because my impression of true Jedi comes from Luke, Yoda, and Obi-Wan in the OT, as well as the expanded universe novels that take place afterwards. It always seemed to me that being a Jedi was about conquering oneself, one’s fears, and learning to use the Force to selflessly help others and let go of all worldly attachments. You know, like the Buddhists they were originally inspired by. I always had the impression that the Force was extremely powerful and that Yoda was only showing Luke a portion of what was possible. That the Emperor was only using Force lighting to toy with Luke. That Vader only Force choked his officers because it was visually intimidating and kept them in line. 

Instead, we’re treated to some garbage about how a “Jedi” is nothing greater than an actuator to swing around a lightsaber. When Luke enters Jabba’s palace in Jedi to rescue his friends, it’s not with lightsaber swinging, cutting shit up, flipping around like an acrobatic monkey. Imagine Anakin and Ahsoka in the same scene. They’d blaze through the palace corridors before Force choking Jabba as the Darth Vader theme plays. Forget the rancor, these are demigods. They have lightsabers. Have you seen them? They go “woosh woosh.” 

In short, there was little to look up to in terms of a “hero” character. I can see how children can look up to Luke as a role model, someone they want to emulate or play with as a toy, but looking up to Anakin? Ahsoka? Hey kids, wanna learn to become a psychopath? First, you use your power to abuse those who are weaker than you. Then you need to get really really angry and uncontrollably choke someone, preferably your sister or one of your cousins. 

And so, for a Saturday morning cartoon show, it is very unclear who we’re supposed to care about. I liked when Ahsoka went against Anakin because I hated his character so much. I liked everything with Hondo, a pirate. I liked Ventress a little, because she was actively seeking to kill the main characters. I liked some of the clones, but I don’t know which ones because they all looked the same. I cared about Darth Maul because I’m honestly a little worried about him, especially after the loss of his brother. I kinda liked General Grievous just because he hates the “Jedi” and was therefore relatable (even though the reasoning was never explained). And... that’s it. 

At no point did I ever “look forward” to the next episode. I painfully died a little on the inside hitting the “watch next” button every single time.

This “review” is already way too long, so let me summarize by applying my five-star rating system (developed for movies) to each episode. In review:

5. Amazing, classic, culturally important. Something everyone should watch.  4. Great; very well done, no significant flaws. 3: Entertaining with only minor gripes/criticisms.  2: “Watchable,” but suffers from flaws and has some poor parts.  1. Uncomfortably bad; suffers from serious flaws. 0. Painfully bad, would actively fight against being forced to watch a second time. 

The 3-star episodes were: 

Hostage Crisis

Lightsaber Lost 

Pursuit of Peace

Carnage of Krell

The Wrong Jedi 

Hostage Crisis was the introduction of Cad Bane, Lightsaber Lost was the remake of Stray Dog (and the only episode to include a real Jedi), Pursuit of Peace was the random Padme/politics episode that was strangely well-executed, Carnage of Krell was the reveal of Krell as a bad guy and his clones working to apprehend him, and The Wrong Jedi was Ahsoka leaving the Jedi Order (and the only episode to include a true character moment). 

Also, I scaled the IMDB ratings of each episode to my ratings and then detected outliers in their overlap. In other words, I wanted to answer the question, “which episodes did I rate the most differently from others?” 

Turns out, I rated every single episode lower except for seven. Those seven were: 

Mercy Mission (+1.853) - R2 and 3PO discover an underground world with ents. This one is universally panned by “fans,” but was a competently handled episode apart from the disappointing resolution. 

Pursuit of Peace (+1.382) - Padme struggles to win support for a Senate bill. Another competently handled episode that focuses on Padme and politics and is ranked low by “fans.”

Lightsaber Lost (+0.6471) 

Weapons Factory (+0.4118) - An average episode with a dramatic scene of sacrifice by Ahsoka and her “friend” Barriss. 

Shadow Warrior (+0.3824) - Grievous is captured during some dramatic moments on Naboo. 

Hostage Crisis (+0.3529)

Front Runners (+0.0882) - One of the rebels episodes, I don’t remember which. 

In conclusion, Star Wars: Rebels is next and I am somehow still alive.

#pie211-tcw #tcw #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars

[physicsandfandoms]

♦ and ☯ for all three of the Umbra gang!

♦ - quirks/hobbies 

Khlora: She likes to mess around with mechanical stuff, and in her free time will often be in the droid workshop or Temple hanger bay. She’ll tinker in the droid workshop and ask to be given a useful task in the hanger bay. She’s friends with some of the non-Jedi mechanics who work in the hanger bay because of this. She’s also a doodler, and likes to read mystery novels.

As for quirks, her biology is sometimes one big ???, even to herself since she is a Iridonian Zabrak/Human hybrid. My thought on that is [first of all, fuck the entire concept of Nightsisters being human/Dathomirian Zabrak hybrids, that doesn’t make any sense biology wise.] Human/Zabrak hybrids would probably only be possible with a Zabrak mom and human dad for a viable offspring, and even then I would imagine that the two hearts thing is always kind of a crapshoot. She would have a lot more well child checkups than the rest of the younglings, the Temple healers would be carefully monitoring that organs (the two hearts especially) were developing at the same pace as the rest of her growth because I can imagine that would vary from person to person and could turn into a big mess quickly. I would think that hybrids would just be a bit more petite in their Zabrak characteristics than full Zabraks, and there is concern especially during growth spurts that the mess of genetics might hiccup in the form of hearts development being outpaced by the rest of her growth, or vice versa.

Non-Zabraks probably wouldn’t pick up that Khlora isn’t full Zabrak, but other Zabraks definitely know, and I think there would be some prejudice against that out in the galaxy. In the Temple she is fully welcomed, but the larger galaxy can be a less great place. 

Zabraks are carnivores, and humans are omnivores. My thought would be that hybrids can be somewhat omnivorous, but their food pyramid is still heavily weighted towards meat. Other high protein foods like nuts/space tofu/dairy are probably fine, and I would imagine that the human side of things needs fruits and veggies, so the main digestive upset would be anything grain related. I would imagine it somewhat like lactose intolerance though where many (Khlora included) would take an enzyme tablet, YOLO, and eat what they want.

Cy: He is a big language nerd and really has a talent for it. He grew up speaking Basic in the creche, but one of his (and Raen’s) clan mates was a Wookiee and while most of the other kids could comprehend a fair amount without a little translator droid, Cy was able to pick it up very quickly, but of course can’t reproduce the sounds himself. When he was 12ish, it was a Wookiee Master, Arriaddik, who chose him as her Padawan, which is fairly rare for a Wookiee to pick a human. During his apprenticeship he became fluent in Huttese and the most common Ryloth/Twi’lek trade language. During knighthood he studied a smattering of other languages to the point of passability, but never became fluent in Mandalorian, Rodian, and others. After getting to know youngling Khlora he picked the dominant Iridonian language as his next to be completely fluent in.

For quirks, I guess this falls into that category, of the three of them, Cy is the only one who had mental health issues before the war starts. Anxiety and depression have always been something that he has to manage, but he does manage it pretty well. Having Raen as someone he can fall back on for support helps a lot.

Raen: Because they are primarily a Healer, keeping up on their sparring qualifies as more of a hobby since the majority of healers don’t. They went for full knighthood before training as a healer, and they think it is important to keep up their fighting abilities. Force healing is draining work though, even for those like Raen with a natural disposition for it, so finding the time and energy to spar is something that they really have to prioritize or it doesn’t happen. Cy is of course their favorite sparring partner, but they do frequently spar with whomever they can find because the two of them are at that point where they know how the other fights well enough that it is a lot more of a challenge to spar with others. 

They play a plucked string instrument, something like an acoustic guitar but with a gentler sound. Outside of the medical realm their academic interests include the equivalent of environmental science.

☯ - likes/dislikes 

Khlora: She likes to wander around the streets of Coruscant and people watch. She likes math and history, and blasting loud music in her room (to Cy’s annoyance). She does like learning about and feeling connected to her Zabrak culture, and Jedi culture as well. She has an interest in Jedi archeology but that isn’t something she gets to pursue very often because of the War. 

She dislikes feeling like she’s really kind of helpless in this Galactic scale conflict. She hates seeing how many lives are destroyed by this war. She was only 16 when the war started, but that is old enough to really understand how the Jedi Order has changed due to the War and it really concerns her.

Cy: He likes to just be at peace in nature with a cup of nice herbal tea and people he cares about. He likes literature, and loves learning new things. Plants and tea make him happy. He loves Raen and Khlora and during the War he is most content when he knows they’re both safe. 

He dislikes eels, there was An Incident when he was a youngling. He dislikes sentients who use their power to oppress and harm others. He is so tired of this war. Cy is one of the Jedi who refused to have a full Battalion and be assigned the rank of General, he’s not suited for it. He’s not suited for full scale war at all. Compromise was found in him leading a squad of clones (the standard 9) which forced him into the role of Sergeant and then Khlora respectively as a Corporal. He still hates it, even if the majority of missions he is assigned are off of the front lines and typically aligned with cleaning up the aftermath of battles and helping surviving civilians. He consoles himself with the fact that he takes care of his squad of clones the best he can and that he’s doing what he can to help people.  Additionally, the clean up jobs sometimes have Raen assigned with him, which always makes things more bearable. 

Raen: They like to cook and play music. They do really love leaving the Temple and doing relief work out in the Galaxy, especially when they’re teamed up with Cy. They love Khlora as if she was their own Padawan as well.

They dislike idiots like Skywalker and Kenobi that they have to hunt down to give medical treatment to. (Okay, they like Kenobi as a person, but the healers draw straws for who’s turn it is to deal with his and his Padawan’s bullshit).

They definitely preferred their work before the war started. Before the war, much of what they did as a healer outside the Temple was relief work for areas that had experienced natural disasters, plagues, or wars. They really felt fulfilled in life doing that. During the war, they spent much of their time patching up injuries of clones and fellow Jedi, which horrifies them. They had seen grotesque injuries before, but it is just so constant, it makes them sick. Thinking about how the clones are used by the Republic makes them sick in general as well.

#Thank you!!! #ask games #my OCs #Khlora #Cy #Raen #Arriaddik #I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've posted about Arriaddik #So new tag for her! Yay! #philcoulsonismyhero #Umbra

[3piox]

kotor character meme

based on this post :3 this got long as hell but it’s very self indulgent and mostly just for myself but i wanted to post it. under cut!

REVAN

NAME: vivza sanstar (i wanted to be EXTREMELY star wars-y. it’s no yolo ziff but i’m still pretty happy)

GENDER: f 

APPEARANCE: this one! i basically cast gong li. a la darth maul, much shorter than you might expect but threatening enough to make up for it (5′5″ but no napoleon complex, she’s VERY confident)

FAVORITE HOBBY: swoop racing. lol. or riling people up. she’s very into arcania, specifically into the force equivalent of universal string theory and quantum mechanics. she like, wrote papers on this stuff and everything. her ‘chill mode’ is banging ladies and building, like, rube goldberg machines. but she doesn’t really have a chill mode so.

BIRTH PLANET: tatooine. jk. a lush planet! some part of revan still loves the sense of rain through warm tropical canopies. her parents were normal people, maybe one mildly force sensitive. they were proud to send her to the jedi as a baby, but never recognized her in the famous war hero -- revan named herself that, and her birth name is lost to the sands of time. revan doesn’t spare them much thought.

PERSONALITY: scorpio/sagittarius cusp. lol. inventive, clever, outspoken, always ‘on’ in a way, but also laidback, the spirit of a wanderer, sees no limits. do or do not, there is no try? yeah, she always does. cocky, naturally. brutally analytical -- she can compartmentalize like nobody’s business, one of the things that made the mindwipe easier to take. totally utilitarian, but grows more empathy after the mindwipe. a strange, compelling gal with a frat boy’s sense of humour.

KREIA: “fine, master.” see above, about compartmentalizing? she can do this with relationships too. she loved kreia as any student loves their teacher, but once she felt kreia had nothing else to teach her, she was on to the next. kreia did not take well to this. when revan came back like nothing had changed, kreia was hard pressed to put her bitterness behind her, and revan saw it as criticism which her ego could not take, so their reunion didn’t last long. once again, revan took what she needed, and left. 

kreia still loves her, and she had dreams where they both got their redemption and stood shoulder by shoulder again, but -- she was too much of a realist to ever dwell on that. revan obvsly loves hilarious slammin’ frankness (see HK) and i believe kreia taught her that and it’s something she really admires about her. “speak your mind, padawan”

MALAK: best of bros. malak was a shy kid, very quiet, reserved, and like so many others was drawn to the sun of revan’s personality. she took him under her wing (figuratively, as he’s always been MUCH BIGGER than her) and she’s been treating him like a little brother/padawan since they were knee high. she loves telling people what to do, and malak was appropriately obedient while also having some fire to him. war forged them into closeness again after they drifted apart in their knighthoods, and malak followed her into hell with a grim smile. i think the turning point in their relationship wasn’t malak’s bitterness about being relegated to apprentice, but because revan -- who, while blunt to the point of rudeness at times, was ultimately very fair-minded and protective -- turned from teasing figure to a bully. malak felt emasculated and, well, one thing led to another. after realizing who she was, revan felt compelled to try and redeem malak, to prove that she wasn’t some fluke, and she mourns him still. 

EXILE: in my fantasies? they FUCKED. 

but seriously. i think there’s something to be said about revan sending the exile to die and thus probably not liking her very much, but for my revan and exile, it’s more a matter of revan’s utilitarian brutality overcoming any feelings she had. the exile was a threat because of her own sway, charm, and growing reluctance with the war -- the exile was talking about going home after malachor, and revan couldn’t have that. she was already thinking about the future, about parting ways with the jedi order and what she needed for that, which included jedi loyal to her and her alone.

before the war: while they were a few years apart in age (exile older) they were very similar, being charming prodigies and all, and i think the council was afraid of them meeting. their paths rarely intersected until knighthood, where they were goaded into a spar that still lives in legend in the halls of the dantooine temple. after that they had a friendly rivalry, but their personalities clashed enough that real socialization wasn’t a hobby of theirs. the exile did get along more with malak (they were both quiet types) so that was another connection they had.

after malachor v, the exile obviously survived, and she came to revan to tell her that she was returning. (she felt it was the courteous thing to do.) revan was angered, but she knew she couldn’t control the exile, so she let her go. they didn’t meet again until wild space and the exile rescuing her. the fact that they didn’t have a deep connection only increases revan’s shock at the exile doing this for her.

“I didn’t think you liked me very much,” she jokes.

“I don’t,” the Exile says. “But I do my duty. Come along.”

after that, they start to develop a real relationship, because pretty much no one else in the galaxy knows what they’ve been through

HERO OR TYRANT: revan told herself she was doing it for the good of the galaxy, but the truth is, she fell before she even really recognized this other threat. she had an ego (practically a god complex) and it drove her to do what had never been done before to prove her greatness -- she didn’t go to war to save people, she went to war because she knew she could stop the mandalorians. and they had to be stopped! so it was easy to justify. 

she ISN’T the type to destroy the galaxy -- she’s fascinated by it’s variations and complexities, and it’s her playground, so she did want to keep it safe. she would have done anything to save it, and to her, anyone who would argue with her methods just wasn’t #deep or #woke enough to see that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. she was probably the kind of kid who pulled legs off bugs, not a sociopath but the pursuit of knowledge, of truth, overwhelms everything.

MEMORIES: she was a spice smuggler and arms dealer, lol. i like to think the council picked that shady background because they wanted to cover up for what THEY saw as an unavoidable moral bankruptcy of character.

her birth planet was kept the same; they used a single mother and an absent dad in place of her single, female master, but also had her mother die young -- ‘vivza’ had to make her own way in the world. a han solo heart of gold type. the whole backstory was #fake but the council knew all the best lies are truths (from a certain point of view ...) so they kept her personality as intact as they could, maintained her most influential memories thru a different lens -- her relationship with her mom mirrors her one with kreia, some of the people she saved stayed the same even if her method was different, she still likes geek shit, etc.

i think there wasn’t really a whole real person’s worth of memories in there -- that would have been absurd to craft -- i think they just impressed the basic bio facts into her, empathized some stuff, then let the force and her own mind fill in the rest. and waking up on the spire, how would she know this wasn’t natural, the gaps of her memory and the like? she’s practically a newborn in some ways -- she doesn’t know that’s not what minds are supposed to be like, and so much of ‘original revan’ is there that she doesn’t feel broken. she kind of thinks she has amnesia for a while? but also doesn’t feel amnesiac. it’s a weird sensation, needless to say.

finding out these memories were fake was really, really hard for her. not so much because she’s attached to them -- since stuff like her mom and her smuggling days weren’t real it’s almost like they’re a dream to her. but the violation of it -- that really disturbed her. her identity was something she was used to trading on, as revan as as vivza the smuggling queen of the outer rim, and she felt like nothing after finding out. she desperately tried to claim again and again that she was vivza but with each moment after the reveal the name becomes more and more like a stranger to her. 

she doesn’t get her memories back in some huge flood, but she gets lots of visions of the past and the force/her mind subtly corrects and aligns some of the fake memories even more into a shape she once knew and she does start remembering things naturally over the years. a lot comes back when she’s alone in wild space. she comes to accept that she’s revan, but she’s scared of the idea of being her old mind -- she doesn’t like the person she was as a sith. she misses the ignorance of being vivza. vivza is, to her, both a punishment and a forgiveness, an old home she can’t return to, and something she could never have but wished to keep. 

vivza hated the sith. revan knows the sith can be redeemed. knows why you would become a sith. this dissonance is the one thing she really keeps from her days as vivza.

ROMANCE: bastila, duh. you give me that forbidden jedi romance with a prissy british beauty who has a deep connection with ur character, and i’m gonna smash that. she’s definitely revan’s type too. she likes someone she can rile up lol. the #reveal was a cold shower. again, massive violation, and a big gulf between them because in her mind bastila was this perfect jedi who had already ended their relationship for that reason, and now -- there was no way for them to reconcile. 

after everything, bastila was scarred by her own fall and her complicity in revan’s mindwipe/use as a tool. revan and her danced around each other for months after the war, both obstinately focused on rebuilding the republic/the order, but they still had their bond and revan knew bastila was deeply conflicted just as bastila knew that revan was reconciling more and more with her old self. one night revan comes to comfort bastila after a dream, and they talked all night and all day until the night again. after that, they tentatively rebuilt their relationship. and revan totally knocked her up w the ~magic of the force~ right before she had to go. 

sadly, they didn’t have much time together before revan went jetting off. bastila misses her like she misses a limb; she’s in a haze as the galaxy falls apart around her. revan does better b/c she’s still little miss compartmentalization but when she dreams at night, alone in empty space, it’s bastila she dreams about. a very deep, mutual love and respect between them.

FAVE CREWMEMBER: canderous was a HOOT -- after the reveal, revan was like “godDAMN, is the reason i love listening to canderous’s awful war stories because i was THERE?” -- they’d spend hours in the back, drinkin’ brewskies and making non-PC jokes LOL. also, jolee. she loves his views on the code -- it doesn’t matter if she’s vivza or revan, she appreciates a man who knows you can love without letting it rule you. his repeated insistence that she was some kind of dark thing really stuck under her skin; when he finally gave her his whole-hearted approval it really meant something. she never got that from kreia or any other master; some part of her responds to hearing it from him. also, they both like messing with people. all their conversations were just her acting the grumpy padawan and him the snarky master LOL.

after she learns who she was she daydreams that if jolee had actually been her master, she wouldn’t have fallen.

ENDING: the LS ending i’m a sappy good guy. bastila lives!

POST GAME: in short: revan and her pals try and restore the republic and the order and she patches things up with bastila, but soon is compelled to rush off to try and deal with this problem all on her own. it’s a redemption of sorts but also -- well, remember how i said her ego compelled her to dominate the galaxy? well, her ego also says that saving the galaxy isn’t ‘enough’ to prove herself -- she has to keep doing more, more, more. this restlessness will never fade. 

she goes thru hell out there in unknown space, captivity, torture, the insanity of loneliness, all that fun stuff. the exile rescues her and it takes months to come back home. she’s been gone for like, so many years. she’s back just in time to talk to canderous about not starting another war, but she’s also tired as fuck. mostly she just wants to sleep. 

bastila hovers but says nothing. it drives her up the wall. they have a big, big fight, and it looks like they’ll NEVER TALK AGAIN OH NO when bastila gets over her pride and takes her to see their kid -- still not force sensitive, but being raised in the order. “I see the heights he will rise to,” Bastila says. “Don’t you? Don’t you see everything we��ve built? Our legacy?” and revan knows she never wants to leave this woman’s side again. the only time she feels her soul settle is when she’s lost in bastila. 

they have an extremely delayed honeymoon period and actually get married and all that fun stuff. probably stuff happens but w/e i just want to maintain that they’re HAPPY but also kind of codependent and leave the galaxy to sort itself out for the most part -- they build up the jedi to staggering new heights in part just to keep another wall between themselves and the rest of the galaxy that has done nothing but stress them out for all their lives. retired lesbian’s, y’all.

jolee ends up in hiding and helping escaped jedi during kotor 2. he probably dies but i refuse to think about this. so in MY version he eventually turns up, grumpy and probably missing some body parts, insisting he DOESN’T want to have anything to do with anyone, but ends up a member of the high council anyways. the exile helps a lot, actually; she’s the sort of steady mind and “ok listen buddy i actually got KICKED OUT of the order so like, let’s talk.” please imagine him living like a long ass time and yelling at initiates to get off his metaphorical lawn and yet being super popular with them. mission and zaalbar travel a bunch and this leads to the whole business venture. i like to think they spent some time on kashyyyk where she became an honorary wookie and has a wookie name and everything ..... just like my headcanon for han solo lol. 

canderous rebuilds the mandalorians (more on that below.) carth is ofc an admiral and he really looks out for bastila when everything goes to shit. he totally gives revan a piece of his mind for leaving bastila and all of them when revan comes back, but as ever with carth, he goes from nuclear to chill in about .5 seconds and then they’re bros again. when vaner (who might have a diff name in mine because that one is LOL) becomes supreme chancellor carth is like, head of his security. he’s totally uncle carth even if bastila and revan aren’t traditional parents lmao. i didn’t save carth’s son (bc i didn’t realize i could ....) so carth definitely puts his parenting urges in there. i like to think he ends up adopting some war orphans down the line, idk.

RANDOM STUFF: she’s not an amazing fighter lol. or tech savvy or any of that. she main strengths are her mad charisma and her out of the box clever thinking. and a very crude application of the force ie i just spammed force wave through most enemy fields lol. before her mind wipe she was a really good brawler? like, she’d be from the anakin & luke skywalker school of “angry overhead chops at everything” lightsaber combat but her real love was just fucking throwing down. she was good at it too. i think the council sort of undid a lot of her fighting skills but they couldn’t erase her body memory so she has a very confused reaction between brain and body that makes her clumsy in fights. it gets better with training but she never totally shakes that particular lobotomy to her talents that the council did to hamper her ‘just in case.’

EXILE

NAME: bree rahanna

GENDER: f

APPEARANCE: this one! like her. tall af -- a bit over 6′. swole. powerhouse. she wields a double-bladed lightsaber and when she’s bearing down on you on the battlefield, you run. ear piercings, beaded hair (always trying new hairstyles), loves accessorizing. looks great in green. very beautiful, but she doesn’t think much of it. very jedi-like ‘my body is just a vessel’ attitude.

FAVOURITE HOBBY: definitely not swoop racing. she likes computer stuff -- the sort of impersonal element. even droids are a bit too much like people for her tastes at times. she’s an introvert, basically, she’d rather just write code and repair ships and such. she used to love to meditate before her exile -- after, without the force, it was just depressing. replaced it with music -- singing by herself, listening to others, she’s basically always humming. she likes how it fills up empty spaces. a bit of a hoarder -- in another life, she’s the kind of person who likes antiquing, and as is, she just collects various bits and bobs that catch her eye.

FROM? GOING?: i like to think she came more from the mid-rim. maybe like (na)jheda. was a little older when she was brought to the temple, maybe 4 or 5? it gave her a bit of a healthier concept of family/relationships. child of a single father who felt that he couldn’t provide for his daughter the way the jedi could. bree thinks of him, but also thinks it would be awkward to ever visit, since the jedi are her family now. she’s always wanted to go where she feels wanted and needed -- her greatest fear is stagnation.

PERSONALITY: capricorn. ambitious, practical, patient, fond of plans and figuring things out -- but she doesn’t like when things don’t fit her worldview and can get very #negative. she’s actually very charming -- her steady way of speaking, dry sense of humour, and habit of looking at whoever is talking like they’re the only person in the galaxy make her very popular, and she’s got a leader’s heart through and through. 

but she doesn’t consider herself charming because she’s not like, say, super gregarious cult leader revan type charming. she wants to be her best, and she has a deep sense of faith and loyalty -- she accepted her banishment from the order, would later accept their attempt to cut her off from the force again, and decided to return to the order once she felt worthy of it, not the other way around. 

BETWEEN THE WAR AND PERAGUS: she’s on the very edges of known space, not paying much attention to anything -- there are rumours of a war out there, but it’s not immediate to her. working as a repair person, she drifts in and out of various systems, relieved that nobody out there seems to know what a jedi is, that the faces are so different from everything she’s known. she’s a bit of an oddity wherever she goes, so she takes to hiding herself under masks and cloaks and the such, and thinks of revan whenever she does. wonders how revan’s identity maybe got lost when she first put on that mask. wonders if she lost herself. 

she’s very, very lonely -- she craves the stability of real relationships, a real routine and a home, but she feels like she shouldn’t, she can’t, out here. people are still drawn to her, but she turns them all away. her exile was just as much self-imposed as anything else.

REVAN: well, all of the above in revan’s section. from her side of things: she sometimes envied revan. most knights did; revan was the shining golden child of the order, and plenty were compared to her and found wanting. bree was one such; she never received the same kind of praise revan did. her ability to draw people to her made the council suspicious of her and she found herself under much scrutiny, and she rebelled by becoming a surer leader, gathering friends to protect her from the disregard of the council. revan, on the other hand, seemed beloved by all, with very little trouble.

these feelings, combined with the general clash of their personalities, means that bree always felt wrong-footed around revan. maybe this is what saved her; revan’s regard would make any person feel empowered, but bree’s reluctance to see them as friends meant that she didn’t get hooked on the idea of power. as is, it marks the differences between them; revan only creates the illusion of empowering others while keeping all control/power for herself, but bree genuinely does this, genuinely boosts people up. she’ll never know that revan was jealous herself of bree’s real connections; revan could feel lonely at times.

bree didn’t think revan would fall; like obi-wan about anakin, it was kind of a, “i trust my shady pal to reject the dark side.” she didn’t even realize that revan had fallen after malachor; she just thought revan couldn’t face what they’d done yet. it was a bit of a shock for her to come back to known space and learn that revan had gone FULL SITH and then gotten redeemed and saved the galaxy while she was away. it makes her realize she doesn’t know revan at all. this unexpectedly saddens her; her own time away from the order has allowed her to become more wholly critical of them, and she thinks that revan and her always had more in common than she’d care to admit.

it’s this, and knowing that revan is needed, and everything revan represents about herself and the war -- this is why she goes after revan in wild space, and this is part of her healing process. both of theirs, really, as they discover on the long trip back home.

ATRIS: bree doesn’t really ‘get’ her effect on others, so she has a hard time reading their feelings. it’s the flipside to the deep pull/ability to form bonds that she has: she brings people in, but she has no idea what to do with them when they’re there. atris is an example of this. she and atris were contemporaries and very good friends, but when atris came to realize the depth of feeling she had for bree, it scared her. she retreated into her histories and watched bree from afar, and bree was like, “um ... i think my friend doesn’t like me now??? ouch okay ... i will releasemy angst about this into the force and move on” and atris was like “oh i see how it is she’s forgotten about me, friend to all is friend to none!”

this righteousness (and sense of betrayal) continued when bree followed revan into war, but as the archivist recording the war and seeing its atrocities she found herself feeling guilty -- not just for doing nothing, but also for allowing bree to go off alone. she feels that bree, like so many others, has fallen for revan’s charms and it sparks envy in her. if only she had the nerve to do what revan and bree did, if only she were bolder, like this matched pair of sun and moon that revan and bree are -- an undeniable, natural force. she knows these feelings aren’t jedi-like and tries to smother them under anger at their treachery, but she continues to nurse this jealousy and it fuels her later actions.

she didn’t feel as triumphant about exiling bree as she thought she would, though. 

bree was hurt by atris’s negative feelings for her, and when it came to their final battle, all she wanted was a reason why. atris’s explanation of her feelings was not at all what she was expecting, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t just b/c atris saw some horrible thing in her. she didn’t want to kill atris -- in atris’s own fall, she saw what could have happened to her if her own jealousy of revan had become dark. she thinks of her and atris as two sides of the same coin in a way, and atris would be humbled to learn that bree sees them that way, since she felt unimportant to bree for so long.

KREIA: bree LOVED kreia because i loved kreia. her relationship with kreia was alike to her one with revan -- she felt kreia walked on a knife’s edge but figured it wasn’t a risk because she knew her. their bond was the deepest one she’s ever felt, since she never had a proper master. in many ways bree was starved for some teacherly affection lol so she clung to kreia. she didn’t agree with kreia’s utilitarian/nihilistic views (she’s more a ‘sacrifice herself first and foremost’ type) but she respected kreia’s wisdom. she flourished under kreia’s teachings, and her greatest hope was that she could teach kreia some things in turns -- they say a proper master/padawan relationship goes both ways. 

kreia was also someone who seemed to really understand what she’d been through -- bao-dur was also in the war, for example, but he didn’t have to make decisions the way bree had to. kreia knows what it is to make hard choices, and bree respects that. basically, kreia made her feel less alone. she would have done anything to redeem kreia in the end -- she came to terms with the fact that she didn’t fall (as she long suspected, since she was exiled) but the line between a jedi and a fallen jedi is a very thin one indeed. she realized she does believe in redemption, truly madly deeply, and if kreia had surrendered she would have welcomed kreia back with open arms. 

kreia loved and respected her too, and to me her death was akin to malak’s -- changing after so many years as a sith would have been the hardest thing they could have ever done, but revan and bree would have stood by them. like revan, bree mourns kreia’s passing. she likes to think that sometimes, she can still feel kreia, hear her as a whisper in the back of her head giving her advice, but that’s just a fancy.

MICAL OR BRIANNA: both! #MODS

REGRET: yes, definitely. her guilt about the war and malachor is strange -- because she cut herself off from the force to avoid the pain of it her brain sort of refuses to touch on it too closely, glosses over the details of what she’s done. it’s a quiet, pervasive sort of inner melancholia. yet she also stands by the fact that she did what she did to help the galaxy and she would do it all over again if need be -- she doesn’t believe in excuses, it’s more like, she’s very practical about the WHY of her doing it and accepting and seeking punishment for her culpability after the fact. she never wants to go to war again, that’s for sure -- but i think she can never regret the war to the point of never having wanted to do it in the first place because the idea of the war being pointless would shatter her.

TRAUMATIZED BY VISIONS: i think she was never the type to have much of the ‘unified force’ visions type, so the vividness of the experience was very weird for her. but she’s a good egg, so it worked out -- she rejected malak’s offer, she helped the republic soldiers (which made her realize that while she WOULD do it all over again, she would try and do it better, which is maybe a fallacy but she can be stubborn when she digs her heels in about something.) she defended kreia against her companions -- because from her POV, her companions were baselessly attacking kreia purely for being a sith when kreia hadn’t done anything yet and could be brought back. (she tried to just knock them out, but ofc kreia killed them all. she vows that if, in reality, kreia were to ever hurt her other friends she would do something about it. she won’t have their blood on her hands again.) some of this was seeing malak reminded her of revan ... and of course, revan is the final vision. 

the sight of herself as a darksider at revan’s side was the most unsettling part of the experience, actually. it was the moment she realized just how important she could have been to revan. revan was also the only one she couldn’t tell herself was a vision even though intellectually she knew it to be -- this was no thought exercise, no abstract vision from the force. this felt so real it was like she had actually fallen for a second. if she hadn’t been able to fight/slay revan, she would have been more fucked up, but still -- she’s a jedi and i think like? she ultimately treated the experience like the knighthood trials she’d had to do -- it’s not pretty to face the dark corners of your mind, but you must.

ROMANCE: lesbian triad with brianna and visas, natch!

LS/DS: lightsided all the way, baby

THE ORDER: now THERE’S a kettle of fish. otoh, the jedi are her family, her calling, her meaning. she’s a believer, and she accepts her punishments and that she could have had more faith in the council. otoh, being exiled from the order was a punch to the gut -- she’d have preferred execution, tbh. she was relieved to learn they hadn’t cut her off from the force but it stung that they had let her go on for all those years without the force, believing it a punishment, like they were piggybacking on her self-inflicted suffering to teach her a lesson. she sees their failings. she felt betrayed.

but she is a very level-headed person, and she’s not a blind follower. she has always been the type to question her masters. she thinks there are valid reasons to leave the order. she doesn’t by-the-book the code, more doing what the force tells her is right (no wonder she was so lost those years of travel! she had no guidance of any kind; she didn’t know how to be a person, it was a lesson she needed to learn.) 

ultimately, she is a jedi. for the first chunk of the journey she tried to hide from it, didn’t use the force, didn’t dress in the robes, didn’t identify as one and was defensive if someone called her a jedi. but coming to dantooine changed something in her -- she felt it would be callow to enter the temple dressed like some merc with a blaster. so she gave in to her lightsaber and her robes and entered as a jedi. the most important part was meeting the lost padawan thief -- in the girl’s childlike inability to survive/over-reliance on her master she saw what she wasn’t. she was a grown woman, a general, a knight, a master, someone who had survived a decade with no force, someone who had never needed a master to hold her hand. she knew right then that she would always be a jedi, and that there was more to being a jedi than simply calling yourself one. 

so she started to heal in her relationship with the order going forward. she started to talk more openly of jedi practises to her companions, and started to train them. she didn’t want the jedi order to die. she knew it was so much more than any one person, or even a temple of people -- it’s something necessary, and sacred.

POST-GAME: yes, fully reconnected with the force. and yes, as mentioned above, she finds revan. it’s a thrilling journey. bastila didn’t want her to go -- “the order needs you” “i’m a jedi, not a bureaucrat” “you are more than that. you are a light, a leader, a guiding star. i cannot --” “and yet, you will.” her friends wanted her to leave even less, but they understood it was something she needed to do, and were touched by the trust she placed in them. brianna totally tried to sneak into the cargo hold of her ship. visas joined her. bree had to practically carry them both out, lol. 

when she comes back with revan she’s surprised to find people still want her to lead, not revan. revan is all “omg sis please .... half of them are worried i’ll go sith again the other half don’t even know who i am ..... you’re the one who rebuilt the order” and yeah bree for grandmaster i don’t make the rules that’s just how it is. more jedi come out of the woodwork as things settle down and the order starts to flourish again and bree HATES having to deal with political types and all that but she does it because well. she gotta. 

her life is pretty quiet lol i actually think if any drama happens it’ll fall more on revan’s head than hers but if revan gets into trouble bree is there in a heartbeat. they’re bonded now (not force-wise, spiritually) and have become like sisters. bree probably outlives revan and it hurts.

POST-GAME FOR COMPANIONS: mira, mical, brianna and visas all become jedi. (mira and brianna after the game’s timeline because i could NOT with them for some reason lol ...) my atton died </3 and bree mourns him in quiet moments where she plays pazaak in her head against his ghost. visas turns out to be surprisingly good with younglings -- it’s been so long since she’s seen young lives brimming with the force, and it reminds her of home. and the kids LOVE her -- everyone wants visas as a master. there have been fistfights over this. (it took her a long time to accept being called master, side note.)

brianna is NOT good with kids and is like “i shall focus on improving security ...” but she totally creates a brand new form that really integrates hand-to-hand with lightsaber combat. it’s very popular. brianna also tries to go home but the sisters never do forgive her. (it’s hard for her loved ones to watch; she always needs to be told she has a new family.) canderous re-establishes mandalore and starts getting some ideas in his head about a new conquest to build up pride again but that’s when revan comes back and is like “no, bad boy, down, sit” and like, no mandalorian legend will EVER admit that the Savior of the Mandalorian Peoples Canderous Mandalore was totally whipped by a jedi. instead they focus on infrastructure! politics! social securities! other exciting things!

mira becomes something of an errant knight -- she’s not really into the trappings of the order at all, but she calls herself a jedi in honour of bree and the training she got. she likes to travel around and just help out where she can. she’s still very good at finding people; bounty proceeds mostly go to families of the victims of whomever she catches and other times it’s just like, finding a lost little girl. she loves it, and it’s a hell of a lot easier with the force. i also bet she leaves a trail of broken hearts all over the galaxy lol. 

mical works in the archives and bree likes to be like “hey you worked for the republic go talk to their representatives for me” and he only lets her get away with this 1/2 the time. the other 1/2 he’s like “you must forgive me i have holobooks to sort ....” and then disappears for like, a week, into the stacks. bree always has to send someone in there to find him and then inevitably they’ll learn he actually dipped out to go track down a rare copy of something or another on a planet a trillion miles away and he’ll be back in a month with super rare items and a mild “oh sorry you were looking for me?” it drives her up the wall.

t3 and hk go with her when she retrieves revan and stick close to the both of them for the rest of their lives, natch.

RANDOM STUFF: unlike revan, VERY good at fighting and tech stuff and all that. she’s mad talented. she has a lot of random skills that she happens to be AMAZING at, like, baking and droid design and fake crying and poetry writing and all this stuff. everyone’s used to saying “well, bree probably knows how...” 

the punchline is that she SUCKS at flying and the idea of swoop racing makes her want to vomit. revan loves that there’s this one thing she’s VASTLY better at and will challenge bree to flying/driving/swooping related challenges that she knows bree can’t help but accept even though she HATES it. it’s a running joke in the order that their famous, powerful grandmaster can’t even use a speeder without something going horribly wrong.

the running theme of all of these is I HAVE SUFFERED ENOUGH I DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE. also, as with luke in canon, and revan in swtor ‘canon’, i think there’s this ‘need’ you see in various fictions where a great hero cannot live a normal life in the ‘after’ -- they must either die, or disappear. it’s like we can’t accept the idea that they could be ‘ordinary’ and ‘brought down.’ that it’s a disservice to their story in some way. but one of my favourite fantasy authors is tamora pierce and i always loved that her heroes get to live, get to marry and settle down and appear in future stories centered on new heroes. i love the idea of a living legend who just wants to be a person like anyone else. i’m not opposed to further drama in their lives, keeps it spicy, but yeah -- i want revan and the exile to be around, to have to deal with the ins and outs of daily life, to do the hard work of rebuilding the order, the republic. i want them to be tangible beings. so. that’s my take on it.

#kotor character meme #kt #exile #revan #i should post my fanart but #im shy #*