#Zam Wessell

[whippedcloudsofcream]

Got to give Zam some credit. She used her last words to cuss out Jango.

[earth-1218designate]

-"Unleashed" has the best packaging out the lot

-Would have copped Jannah, but no crop top ...

-Two of my favorite Sith Lords

-Cant stand Luke, but that pose was too dope

-Padme's navel. Could take a shot out of that !

-Comic packs. If only there was a Darth Talon joint on sale !

-Greg Pak got me hip to Sabine Wren

-That Grogu is to size

[sw5w]

Explosion

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:22

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

i have more ot3s but these are the ones that are a) *willie nelson voice* always on my mind and b) currently always on my mind

[morganbedrawing]

Zam Wessel on Courscant-Clone Wars style. I made it after completing Star Wars bounty Hunter which is an amazing game.

Wish we got more screen time for Zam, it would be super cool to see her in a tales of the Jedi episode.

[sendae]

the chaotic texts of me and my siblings 6/?

[king-k-ripple]

Star Wars Character Tier List. Zam Wessel would be “Fair”. Captain Panaka would be “Decent”. Mynock would be “terrible”.

[trannakinskywalker]

when you say obi wan confirmed bi you mean the scene in padawan where he tihnks about who he would want to kiss, right? or is there something else i havent seen

Yes I'm referring to that, the singular canon crumb we oBI truthers have besides how obviously bisexual his characterisation is otherwise

[shadowmaat]

A lost life explored

Many moons ago I got an ask inviting me to speculate on what would have happened if Obi-Wan had stayed on Melida-Daan. At the time I didn't find that likely, but I fudged a workaround for the anon who asked.

While my opinions have shifted a lot since then, I still lean towards the idea that Obi-Wan would still have found his way back to the Jedi, no matter what.

HOWEVER.

I read a fic today wherein a holocron of Sifo-Dyas apologized to Obi-Wan "for the life I took from you" by manipulating him to come back to the Jedi. The fic itself is very streamlined, so it never really goes into detail about what Obi-Wan's life would have been like without that interference.

In the fic there's brief mention of how Young!Obi had been meditating and "lost time," regaining awareness only after his friend had been shot and the peace talks began to fall apart. This is when he decided to call the Jedi for help and eventually wound up rejoining them.

If you want to take it literally, you could say that the "life" Obi-Wan lost was Cerasi, but now I want to play around with that a bit.

Let's say that, if Sifo-Dyas hadn't interfered, Obi-Wan would have been awake and aware and able to stop Cerasi's assassination. The peace talks would have continued. Perhaps the assassination attempt would have been used to help levy stronger compensations from the Olds. Obi-Wan becomes the Negotiator and a tentative ceasefire agreement is reached.

He does NOT call the Jedi for help, but does send word to the Senate in order to get some official ratification going via a lawyer or other legal representative. No loopholes allowed, no backing out, the Melida and the Daan are going to cooperate, dammit.

As "payment" for the Senate's generous help (ha), Melidaan agrees to a little more oversight from the Galactic Senate. This, at least, helps to unite the three warring factions, who don't want Big Government encroaching on their planet and their resources. A Senate Oversight office is set up in Zehava (the capital).

Obi-Wan also reminds the fledgling united government that they're entitled to have a representative in the Senate. No, not Obi-Wan, he's too, ha, young for the job, though he is elected as an aide to the new senator and everyone is expecting him to take over when the time comes.

Obi-Wan isn't exactly happy to be back on Coruscant, but he's determined to do all he can for his adopted planet. ...And maybe help out a few other unfortunates who've been pushed under the carpet.

Basically he becomes a very small thorn in the Senate's side, one that becomes progressively larger until it's too late.

He charms the other aides. He befriends the panhandlers on the surrounding streets. He makes inroads among the criminal element. Very little happens without Obi-Wan noticing it, and very few pay him any mind because he's "just a kid."

Obi-Wan, who goes by "Bee," now, always seems to be buzzing around the Senate- when he isn't getting into mischief. The Jedi who come to the Rotunda never seem to encounter him; he's very good at playing least-in-sight when they're around.

By the time events in the prequels roll around, he has indeed become the Senator for Melidaan and has a vast network of informants. He isn't able to stop Palpatine from becoming Chancellor, but thanks in part to his whisper campaign the vote is closer than Palps expected.

All efforts to have Bee eliminated fail, usually in ways that seem to be accidental or coincidental. Some of the assassins even develop a rapport with him, particularly Zam Wessel, who is both delighted and annoyed by his ability to identify her no matter what face she's wearing.

He also interferes on Anakin's behalf, once he notices Palpatine's interest in the boy. Not through anything dramatic, just by adding distractions. Mechanics looking for help with ship repairs. Droids who obviously need some TLC. Leaving his office door open as he watches podraces just as Ani happens to be passing by. Even when Palps refuses to let Ani get sidetracked, all it does is generate resentment rather than unwavering loyalty.

As a courtesy, Zam tips off Bee about her contract on Amidala, only to find herself waking up in his office later on with no idea how she got there. Amidala is safe and has a couple extra security guards who absolutely are not criminals or reformed assassins.

The clones are still discovered and the war still kicks off, but there's a lot more questioning of why, how, and what. We'll says Palpatine's initial grab for emergency powers fails, though I don't know enough about what those are to say how it affects things, other than pissing him off.

Commander Fox isn't sure if he wants to shoot Senator Bee or marry him. The man is a menace, but can be damn scary sometimes. He also connects Fox into his whisper network, which the Corries will then help expand.

I dunno how things will play out in the end, but Palpatine isn't going to have an easy time with anything and I don't think the Purge will happen. Or not completely.

Bee will also eventually find out that the he wasn't as "hidden" from the Jedi as he thought; they knew who he was and where he was, but respected his decisions to live his own life.

[fellthemarvelous]

I want to talk about Obi-Wan and Maul

This might end up being kind of long so bear with me, and my thoughts are kind of all over the place and possibly slightly incoherent.

Maul and Obi-Wan had a rivalry that was insanely brutal. (More under the cut.)

Maul survived being cut in half by Obi-Wan and ended up going insane, no longer connected to reality and living in the sewers for many years. Once Savage took him back to Dathomir and the Nightsisters "fixed" him, he found clarity again and became wholly fixated on Obi-Wan, the only person he had any connection to from his past. He hated all Jedi, but there was no one he hated more than Kenobi.

Obi-Wan, for his part, was horrified to learn that Maul had survived considering Obi-Wan had cut him in half.

Their rivalry is probably one of my favorites in all of Star Wars.

Maul was bloodthirsty, vengeful, and full of rage.

Obi-Wan was the opposite. He was kind, compassionate, took no pleasure from killing others, and loved unconditionally.

And one thing Obi-Wan eventually came to understand about Maul was that Maul had not had a good life. He recognized that Maul was raised to be the person he was because of the cruelty of Darth Sidious.

The Nightsisters handed baby Maul over to Darth Sidious to be trained in the ways of the Sith. Darth Sidious, who is famously cruel and diabolical. Darth Sidious, who raised Maul to be expendable because Maul was just a means to an end for Sidious.

Maul who never grew up experiencing love. He never experienced kindness or compassion. He was raised to be an assassin, a cold-blooded killer, doing anything and everything Sidious asked of him.

And he eventually understood that he had been nothing more than a tool for Sidious.

So he was angry. Alone. Full of hate. And wanted revenge.

And his anger at Obi-Wan was more than just him losing his legs. Obi-Wan caused him to lose the only life he knew. He had no guidance once Sidious was finished with him.

The only life he knew was one of cruelty. He'd never bonded with anyone until he met Savage.

And when Sidious killed Savage, Maul was alone again. (Ironically, Sidious killed Savage the same way Maul had killed Satine like five minutes prior.)

He had no one on his side again.

He tried to connect with Ahsoka, and then with Ezra years later.

But still, more than anything, he wanted to break Obi-Wan the same way that he himself was broken. He wanted to see Obi-Wan lose control and become like him. He was almost successful when he forced Obi-Wan to watch him kill Satine.

But Obi-Wan proved to be unbreakable even in that moment, and Maul's obsession only became stronger, along with his rage.

Maul was unable to comprehend love, and it drove him crazy that Obi-Wan had actually tried to connect with him in the moments leading up to Satine's death. Obi-Wan had tried to show Maul compassion and it infuriated Maul. He hated that Obi-Wan was trying to be kind to him.

Maul was a monster in every way, but he was also a victim raised under the cruelty of Darth Sidious and only knew how to be what Sidious had molded him into.

And on the other side we have Obi-Wan Kenobi. Despite his sass and sharp wit, he is kind and loving. He loved being a Jedi and devoted his life to living by the Jedi code. And he may not have always gotten it right, but he never strayed from the core principles.

(And always be as dramatic as possible.)

I've seen some bizarre criticisms of Obi-Wan that have me scratching my head. His attachment to Anakin, for one, like there isn't a rich and complicated history behind their relationship in the first place.

He's criticized for not killing Anakin so clearly Vader's reign of terror is somehow Obi-Wan's fault.

Let's examine all of this a bit closer.

We often joke about the fact that Obi-Wan has a vast collection of dismembered body parts, but Obi-Wan does not like killing others. He kills when he has no other option.

He prefers to disarm his opponents, quite literally. He cut off Zam Wessell's hand instead of killing her even though she was about to kill him. He just wanted answers. She had no real way of fighting back because he had injured her.

He disarmed the man who was threatening Luke in the cantina in A New Hope. He didn't kill him though. It's not like he was a major threat.

And on Mustafar, he couldn't bring himself to kill Anakin. He cut off one of Anakin's arms and both of his legs, an action that tore him apart because he loved Anakin so much. Anakin was defenseless at that point, and he was also completely on fire thanks to the lava. No part of him imagined that Anakin could have survived being burned alive, and he spent the next ten years hating himself for leaving Anakin to die until he learned that Anakin not only survived but was incredibly angry with him and wanted to kill him.

Just like Maul.

Obi-Wan did not like the idea of killing. At all.

And perhaps it was his attachment to Anakin Skywalker that brought the galaxy to its knees, but that attachment was because he and Anakin had always had a confusing relationship.

Let's take into consideration the fact that Obi-Wan, at the end of The Phantom Menace and only 25-years-old, had just watched his Master die at the hands of Darth Maul, subsequently killed Darth Maul (but not as much as he thought he had), been given the title of Jedi Knight, and taken on nine-year-old Anakin Skywalker (almost immediately after being knighted), a boy who had just been freed from slavery and had to leave his mother behind to pursue a life as a Jedi because being a Jedi had always been his dream.

Then maybe take into account the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi was grieving the loss of Qui-Gon while Anakin struggled with being away from Shmi for the first time in his life. Obi-Wan didn't just train Anakin in the ways of the Jedi, he raised Anakin. He treated Anakin like a brother while Anakin said Obi-Wan was the closest thing he ever had to a father. Obi-Wan has always been good with children, and it's only natural that he would take on a parental type of role despite the fact he was only 16 years older than Anakin. He loved Anakin the way a brother would, and it did blind him to some of Anakin's more concerning habits, but Anakin also kept his biggest sins a secret because he was ashamed of himself, and he never wanted to know what it felt like to have Obi-Wan be disappointed in him.

Their relationship was messy because they were attached to each other, but Obi-Wan still did his best to teach Anakin. It had been Qui-Gon's final wish for him to train the boy, and Obi-Wan trusted his master.

So it was his attachment to Anakin that prevented him from killing Anakin aka Darth Vader, but it was very in character for him to choose not to do so. He always believed there were other ways to fight back.

And in the end, not killing Anakin had been the right choice. Anakin is the one who defeated Sidious (at the cost of his own life too) in an act of love for his son Luke and returned balance to the Force.

Obi-Wan didn't want to kill Maul either, but Maul gave him no choice. Maul was now a threat to Luke.

Maul lived a tormented, lonely life because he was never able to come to terms with the pain and anguish he'd experienced as a child that turned him into the monster he was throughout the rest of his life.

Obi-Wan (Ben) was able to rise above the suffering he'd endured and made peace with what had happened during and after the Clone Wars. He was so very much connected to the Force by this point because he had finally been able to let go of the tragedies of his past.

When he defeated Maul, he didn't treat it as a victory. He cradled Maul in his arms the same way he had held Qui-Gon and Satine when they died by Maul's hand.

He offered compassion to Maul despite Maul's atrocities, and in doing so, allowed Maul to experience peace for the first time in his long life.

In his final moments, he was treated with the dignity he had never given any of his victims.

And I think, in the end, Maul finally understood what he had been deprived of his entire life.

Obi-Wan was a true Jedi. He might have made a few errors along his journey, like everyone else does. He proved he was a master not by his skills with a lightsaber but by his ability to show compassion to those who don't necessarily deserve it because they are the ones who usually need it the most.

Star Wars Rebels gave us such beautiful closure to a rivalry that spanned decades.

[multi-fandom-enjoyer]

hello,idk if you still take request but could i request Zam Wessell from star wars x male reader? Please! And thanks.

(I'm still taking requests, and feel free to send any more you have. Sorry, this one took so long)

You and Zam were both chasing after a bounty, you on your jetpack and her running across rooftops. When you finally caught up to them, you used your grapple hook, and she hit them with a tranquilizer dart.

Y/n: Another job completed. Happy anniversary, love.

You looked down at the bounty and picked them up.

Zam: So how would we do after this?

Y/n: Collect the bounty, annoy Jango, and get dinner?

Zam(laughs): Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.

[kill-the-feels]

twilight

a/n: hey y’all! i know i kinda fell off the face of the earth, but real life got real busy. i posted this on ao3 about a week ago, but haven’t had the time to put it on tumblr until today. but hey! i turned in my edtpa and graduation is just around the corner, so i’ve got more time to write! i hope you enjoy!! <3 (previous part) (masterlist)

warnings: language, a HEAPING dose of angst (like seriously, we’ve caught up to the movie now), fluff, mention of canonical death 

word count: ~4.8k

You recognize Zam Wessell’s voice on the comm even from the other room. You and Boba are sitting in the floor, trying to organize his stuff, when you hear Jango’s comm beep.

“This is boring,” Boba says, with a heavy sigh. You pass him another shirt, motioning for him to fold it. Instead, he wads it up and tosses it in the corner.

“Boba,” you say, reaching back for it. Jango’s voice filters by.

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Just need some backup.” Boba sighs again and takes it from your hands, folding it with exaggerated movements, creases perfect.

You suppress a smile.

“Buir is leaving again soon,” Boba says, putting the shirt on top of a pile of other folded shirts.

“I know,” you say. Boba folds another shirt, picking up the aiwha stuffed animal he’s had since he was a little baby as he does.

“Do you think he’ll take me with him?” he asks. You hesitate. If Jango’s calling Zam, it’s probably a pretty big job, even if he’s downplaying it.

Boba cradles the aiwha to his chest.

“It might be better if you stay here this time,” you say. Boba pets the aiwha — as much as he likes to act tough, you know the little animal brings him comfort.

Boba frowns at the floor.

“I don’t want him to be alone,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, Boba,” you say softly, opening your arms. He crawls over, knocking the pile of clothes with his knee, but you don’t scold him. Instead, you hug him and the aiwha, running your fingers through his curls.

“He won’t be alone. And he’ll be back. I promise.” Boba doesn’t cry — he’s recently decided he’s too old for that — but you do feel the way his breath catches. He buries his face in your neck, and you let him.

~~~

By the time Jango puts away the comm, Boba is reorganizing the shirts he knocked over, the aiwha tucked safely in his bed.

The door whooshes open softly, and you and Boba look at Jango.

“I have to leave for a bit,” he says. Boba looks at you out of the corner of his eye, the “I-told-you-so” on the tip of his tongue.

“Where are you headed this time?” you ask at the same time Boba asks:

“Can I come?” Jango looks between you two, his eyes landing on you.

“Boba, let me and Buir talk about it first,” he says. Something about the way he says it sets you on edge.

“Finish that pile,” you tell him. “And then we’ll play something.” Boba looks between you two, but with a grumbled “okay” he goes back to what he was doing.

Jango waits until the two of you are in your bedroom to speak.

“Boba should stay here with you,” he says. “I won’t be long. And… it’s better for the both of you.”

In your time with Jango, you’ve learned to distance yourself from the bounty hunter in him. You’ve done what you need to in order to rationalize it — most of them deserve what’s coming, Jango isn’t overtly cruel when he goes after a bounty, he tries to be fair — but something feels off about this one.

He never goes into explicit detail — for both your sakes’, you suspect — but there’s something about the way he can’t meet your eyes.

Like he’s feeling guilty.

“Jango?” you raise your hand, intending on cupping his cheek, and for the first time in a very long time, you hesitate.

Jango notices.

“Cyar’ika,” he pleads. “Sweetheart. It’s better if you don’t know.” He lifts your hand, putting it over his heart. You can feel it racing under his skin.

“You can trust me,” you whisper. “Let me in.” He squeezes his eyes shut, guilt turning to pain.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and you swallow your sigh.

“Yes. Always, yes.” Jango pulls you into a hug, arms wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss against your hair.

“You’ll be safe. I won’t be long.” When he pulls away, he presses something into your hand.

It’s a small blade, like the one you lost.

You jerk your gaze to Jango’s eyes, and he smooths a hand down the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to use it,” he says grimly. “But if you have to, it’s there.”

In the morning, he’s gone.

~~~

Zam Wessell was a damn good partner, and Jango is, admittedly, sad to see her go.

He’s not sure what’s worse: being the one that had to kill her, or having to kill her to salvage a botched mission.

At the time, using the Kaminoan saberdart seemed like a good choice. It’s quick and easy, hard to track.

But he should have known. With not one but two jetiise assigned to protect the senator, it’s only a matter of time before one — or both — make their way to Kamino.

Jango pushes his ship hard, intent on getting back before anything can happen. He already commed to say he was on his way, and the both of you seemed fine.

But he can’t shake the worry. If he were to lose either of you, he’s not sure what he’d do.

It’s late evening as he enters the atmosphere of Kamino, the clouds clearing in one of the brief breaks between storms. The sun is dipping down over the horizon, and Jango might take time to admire it if he weren’t so focused on getting to his quarters.

Who knows if they’ll want him to try again. Probably not, he decides grimly. It wasn’t sloppy work, but it wasn’t a success.

The door opens softly, and he hears the two of you laughing further in.

“You mean to tell me your creature can jump higher than mine?” Jango peeks around the corner. The two of you have set up a block set that’s normally used to test the problem solving skills of the clones.

Instead, it’s been deconstructed and formed to look like a battlefield.

“I already told you,” Boba says, “it’s because it can fly. But yours is faster!” The last part is said defensively, as if the two of you have been going over this for some time.

“Alright, alright. So we have to get to the top of the hill?” you ask. Jango watches as Boba nods, brow furrowing a little.

“Yeah. And it’s a race.” You hold your creature up — the stuffed hoojib Jango brought him a few years back.

“And Jibby can climb better, right? I mean, he’s the one with legs.” Boba tilts his head, thinking.

“Yes, but. He’s scared really easily.” You huff, and Boba laughs.

“Because he’s afraid of stuff!” You reach for Boba’s creature, the beloved aiwha.

“And Ai-Ai isn’t?” Boba holds it protectively to his chest.

“Ai-Ai is a feared bounty hunter. Buir, if you’re going to ask a bunch of questions, we don’t have to play.” You shake your head.

“No, I’m just trying to figure out all the rules. And what’s at the top of the hill?” Boba looks at you like you’re being purposefully dense.

“The bounty. We have to collect it, so we can get the credits.”

“But wouldn’t it…” you trail off at the look Boba gives you, instead posing Jibby.

“Okay. So we have to fight, then, right?” Boba smiles, stretching out on his stomach. You copy the motion, the both of you play fighting with the creatures.

Boba lands a sharp slap on yours, and you cry out.

“Not so hard, Boba,” you say, shaking your fingers. Boba looks down, guilty.

“Sorry. But Ai-Ai saw an opening. Bounty hunters have to be prepared.” You glare at him, but Jango knows Boba can see the slight smirk on your face, just like he can. You swat at Boba, and he cries out.

“Jibby saw an opening too.” It devolves from there, the two of you play-wrestling, creatures forgotten. You clasp your arms around Boba, tickling, and he shrieks with laughter.

“That isn’t fair!” He calls, knocking over one of his structures with his foot. One of the pieces rolls over towards Jango, and Boba follows it with his eyes.

He notices Jango first.

“Buir!” he shouts, loudly enough that you pause, confused. Boba shoves you off, harder than he probably intends to in his excitement, and rushes for Jango.

You frown at Boba’s back as you push yourself up, and Jango hugs Boba with one arm, while offering you his other to help you stand.

“Boba,” he says, scolding. Boba looks down.

“Sorry,” he mutters, squeezing your hand in apology. Jango sees the way you squeeze back, and his heart constricts.

He’s been a fool.

It’s not a question of whether or not the Jedi come, it’s when. And maybe, in that moment, he wasn’t thinking. Maybe he chose to use the dart to rationalize the need to leave — the Kaminoans will certainly want to protect their investment.

It was an opening, and he took it, but in taking it, he inadvertently put the two of you in greater danger.

“It’s nice out tonight,” Jango says. He doesn’t have much time, but he’ll be damned if he won’t take what he’s given. He looks between you and Boba. “Wanna go outside?” Boba, of course, gives him a happy yes, because outside means he can play around with the Slave I.

But you study Jango with those ever-perceptive eyes of yours. He looks away, swallowing hard, jaw clenching. While Boba scrambles for his poncho — a smaller version of the one Jango himself wears — you drift closer.

“Jango,” you say softly, cupping his cheek. He squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t deserve this. You. Boba.

“Let me in,” you say, voice just shy of begging. “I can help carry the load.” Boba is back before he can say anything, and he swallows again, trying to rid his throat of the ache that threatens to take away his ability to speak.

Boba charges ahead, but you hold onto Jango’s hand as the three of you step onto the landing platform. Boba runs for the ship.

“Be careful near the edge,” you shout at him, and Jango watches as Boba slows obediently.

“You do a good job with him,” Jango says, sitting beside you near the door. The sun has set, leaving the night sky a beautiful wash of colorful stars and distant nebulas.

Jango slumps down, ache moving to the back of his head. Boba circles the Slave I, running his hands across it, cataloging each part, just like Jango taught him.

“You do too,” you say, and he closes his eyes. He can make you leave. Take Boba with you. He’ll stay here, so the Kaminoans can’t complain.

“Jango.” When he opens his eyes, you’re right there, chewing your lip and looking worried.

“I’m tired,” he blurts, and as soon as he says it, he knows it’s the truth. Not just tired physically, but mentally. Emotionally. He’s tired of fighting, tired of living in fear.

Because he’s a legend, but even legends have weaknesses.

You tug on his shoulder, softly.

“Rest for a moment, then.” He lets you guide his head to your lap, and can’t help the sigh that escapes him as you card your fingers through his hair. It needs to be cut again, the curls longer than he likes, the first hints of silver just starting to appear at his temples.

He’s torn between closing his eyes and committing this scene to memory. Boba wanders over, slouching down beside you and putting his head on your shoulder.

Jango stares at the night sky, the rhythmic crashing of the waves lulling him into a tranquil state. His eyes find two stars that hang right beside each other, one smaller than the other, brighter than all the ones around them. Boba gasps when a shooting star passes below the two stars.

“Did you see that?” Boba asks, sitting up in excitement. You gently tug him back down.

Jango feels like that shooting star. His time’s running out. He can feel it in his very bones.

~~~

You comb your fingers gently through Jango’s hair, tilting your head to lay on Boba’s, and you pray neither of them can feel the way your heart pounds in your chest.

Something is very wrong.

Jango won’t tell you, but it’s there on his face. He’s saying goodbye.

Your eyes burn, and you widen them to dry the unshed tears, staring at the night sky, at two stars that seem to be winking at you. Which ghost from his past is it, you wonder, that’s pulling him away?

A breeze blows across the landing pad, and you shiver. It’s cold, the breeze bordering on wet with coming rain, but you don’t want to go in. The waves below you are soothing to listen to, and the sky above is beautiful. Even with the lights of Tipoca City, the stars are bright, the occasional shooting star arching across the sky.

“We should go inside,” Jango says, voice rumbling against your skin. Boba mumbles something beside you, half-asleep.

“Just a little more time,” you say. If you could bottle up this moment and keep it, you would. Jango sits up, and you protest softly.

“You’re shivering,” he says, cupping your cheeks. You lean into his touch. His lips part, eyes half-closing, and you reach for the back of his neck, pulling you closer to him.

When he kisses you, it is achingly slow. Tender and chaste, at first; he just rests his mouth on yours, the both of you conscious of Boba sleeping on your shoulder.

Jango pulls away, the little hum of protest leaving your mouth before you can stop it. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hold on,” he murmurs. Instead, he tugs Boba up, resting the boy on his back. Boba sighs, and clenches his hands around Jango’s neck.

Together, the three of you make your way back inside. Jango puts Boba in his room, and you stare out the window, watching as the clouds move back over the night sky, covering the two stars.

Jango steps back out, shutting the door softly.

You watch his reflection in the transperisteel, leaning back as he wraps his arms around you, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck.

Your eyes close, and your heart thuds harder. Twisting, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. Jango sighs, cupping the back of your head and holding you there. Your eyes are burning again, and this time, you squeeze them shut harder, summoning strength.

Pressing your palms against his chest, you push away.

“Let me in,” you say for the third time, clenching your jaw so your lips don’t tremble.

“Cyare,” he says, reaching for you, and you step back, until you’re pressed against the window, the cold seeping into your skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, holding tight.

“No. I deserve answers, Jango.” His face falls, and he looks down. Nodding slowly, he looks back up.

“I messed up,” he says. The simple phrase shouldn’t chill you as much as it does, but to hear Jango Fett admit he messed up leaves you feeling unmoored.

“How? How did you mess up?” It doesn’t feel like you speaking, your voice landing overly-loud in the quiet room.

“Zam and I went after a senator,” Jango says. “And Zam got caught.” He looks past you, at the skies, which have opened up, the dull sound of thunder vibrating the walls behind you.

“Where did they take her?” you ask. Jango meets your eyes, sadness hidden deep in them.

“They didn’t take her,” you say, and he nods.

“I… I killed her. Because I had to. She would have done the same for me.” You take a deep breath. He killed her. Because that’s what bounty hunters do. They assess the risk and take it out, no matter the cost.

“And now?” you ask. “What about the senator? What happened to them?” Jango clicks his teeth, and turns away from you, straightening some of the blocks Boba left out. But not before you see the guilt flash across his face.

“She’s still alive, last I heard.” Good. That’s good. You’re not sure who it was, but you don’t relish anyone dying.

“But I got sloppy,” he says. You reach for him, hating the bitterness you can hear in his voice, the self-blame.

“Sloppy how?” He turns back to you, agony across his face.

“She had Jedi protecting her, cyare. And I used one of the weapons the Kaminoans gave me. They’ll be coming here. Soon.” You digest his words, unsure what that means for the three of you, exactly.

“So let’s just go,” you say, the reckless words tearing their way out of your mouth. Jango scraps a frustrated hand through his hair.

“We can’t just go,” he mutters, the both of you conscious of Boba sleeping in the room right next to you.

You stomp your foot, releasing some of your frustration.

“Yes, we can! Weren’t you the one who just suggested it?” Jango swipes a hand across his mouth, rubbing over his chin and the stubble there as he does.

“Things have changed. I have to do this. If you leave, it’ll just be you and Boba.” Your fists clench, and you resist the urge to hit something. You will not let him make himself a martyr.

“Do what? What is so important, Jango?” He shakes his head, turning away from you, heading towards the room the two of you share. Your nostrils flare and you take a big, heaving breath before following him in.

“Forget it,” he says, shucking armor and kicking off his boots. The door closes behind you. You grab his shoulder, stopping him from removing any more.

“No, let’s talk about this. You can’t keep shutting me out anytime it gets tough, Jango.” He shakes you off, his side-glare more hurt than anger.

“It’s for your own good.” You fucking hate those words.

“How can it be for my own good when it effects me and you won’t tell me? What is so fucking important that you’re willing to risk our safety — Boba’s fucking safety — to get it? Credits? Fame?” His back tenses as you talk.

“Don’t you dare imply I put either of those above the two of you,” he hisses. Your laugh is caustic, lacking any humor.

“I don’t know what to think,” you say, throwing your hands up. Maker, you hate how shrill and strangled your voice sounds. But this fight has been a long time coming. Jango grips the desk, head bowing.

“I’d hope you know me better than that.” His voice is dangerously low.

“How can I when you won’t answer any questions and keep blowing me off?”

“I wanted information on who tried to fucking kill you!” he shouts, lip curling in disgust as he whirls on you. “Was that so wrong of me?” You jump, flinching on instinct.

Instantly, he pulls back, his head falling as he buries his face in his hands. Jango takes two deep, measured breaths, and when he looks back up at you, he’s composed.

“I couldn’t let it go.” His voice is back to a soft whisper. Slowly, he raises his hand, extending it to you. Tears fill your eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you whisper, a few tears starting to spill down your cheeks. Angrily, you swipe them away. “All I’ve ever wanted from you was somewhere peaceful and safe.”

“There are people from my past who still haunt me, even all these years later,” Jango says, and his voice sounds so helpless it breaks your heart. “How can things be peaceful or safe when I know they’re out there? When I don’t have any answers?”

You swallow hard, over the aching lump in your throat. He turns toward the door, shaking his head.

“I need to do some damage control. Try and salvage this. They’ll be watching and waiting, but someone’s bound to slip up.” He shoves off the rest of his armor as he goes.

“I’d rather have you and Boba than answers.”

He freezes in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at you. Your lips thin, and you nod once, decisively.

“One of the first nights after I met Boba, I decided I’d be in for a long life. But it didn’t scare me. Because I had you to help me. Before you two, I’d been playing with a pretty shitty hand in life. And then I came here, and it was like I got a second chance.” He grimaces, and you step closer.

“Jango, it pisses me off that someone attacked me, and yeah, I’d love to know why, but you know what scares me the most? What really leaves me so angry I can’t breathe? The thought of losing this little family we’ve built.” His eyes close, pure pain written across his face, and he lets out a long sigh.

“I can’t just quit,” he says softly. “I… we’re in too deep now, Cyare.” You tiptoe over to him and cup his cheek.

“So we figure out how to get out. But let me help you, Jango. Trust me.” He leans into your touch, holding his hand over yours, even as he presses his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breath brushing across your lips. And you know this time he apologizing not because he’s pushing you away, but because he didn’t trust you enough to let you in.

You kiss him, tasting salt and regret on your lips, feeling the way he moves with you, as if when he lets you go, you’ll disappear.

“Hey,” you say, edging back slightly and wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’ve gotten through worse.” But the way Jango wraps his arms around you, tinging on just this side of desperate tells another story.

And that. That chills you to the bone.

~~~

In the end, it’s the waiting that’s the worst part.

Jango stays close to home, leaving only when he has to, and even Boba picks up on the tension, glancing between you two as if he can read what’s going on in your faces.

At night, Jango clutches you to his chest, mouth and hands moving over your skin at a near frantic pace, as if he expects to be torn away from you in the very next breath.

And yet, enough time passes that you begin to think it was all in Jango’s head. Perhaps you’ve gotten lucky, and life, like always, will carry on.

It’s a foolish, foolish dream.

The three of you have just finished dinner. Boba is in the main room, drawing — his latest habit — and you and Jango stand in your bedroom.

There’s a bag on the bed, and together, you’re making a grab-bag of sorts, pieces of you life that you can’t leave behind. Jango is cleaning his weapons, the blaster pieces spread across the little desk in the corner.

And the door beeps, signaling a visitor.

“I got it,” Boba yells. Jango is already on his feet.

“Boba, wait!” But it’s too late. You hear the door slide open, and one of the Kaminoans — Taun We, it sounds like — speaks.

“Boba, is your father here?” Jango freezes beside you, and you reach for his hand, squeezing tight. He squeezes back, getting grease from his blasters on your skin.

You don’t care. You cup his cheek with your other hand, pressing your forehead against his, offering as much support as you can.

“Stay in here,” he whispers. “Finish packing. Be ready to leave.” Your breath shudders, but you nod, holding on as long as you can before you absolutely have to let go.

Jango snags a spare cloth as he leaves, wiping the grease off his hands. You stay out of sight, pressing your back to the wall. He leaves the door open — an oversight — and you wince, seeing the armor still on the ground.

“Eh, Boba,” Jango says. You listen as he tells him to close the door. Boba’s eyes meet yours as he does, and you nod once, trying to tell him to be strong with just your eyes.

He sets his mouth in a grim line, but gives you a small nod.

Letting out another shuddering breath, you pack quicker, listening to Jango speak to your visitor. Your hands shake, and you flex your fingers.

“I’m just a simple man, trying to make my way through the universe,” Jango says. Even through the walls, you can hear the sarcasm in his voice, well-hidden to everyone except you and Boba.

The other person says something — probably a man, given the lower tone — and you listen as they move towards the door.

It beeps, signaling their departure, and you freeze.

Jango rushes in.

“Time to go,” he says. “We won’t have long. They’ll want him to take me too.” He’s hurrying, face grim as he puts the blasters back together.

“Boba,” he calls, “Pack your things. We’re leaving.” He slips on his flight suit, tugging on his gauntlets even as he zips it up.

You carry his greaves over, and he takes them from you, attaching them in a smooth, practiced motion.

“Jango.” He pauses, looking between you and the door.

“This is it?” You know the answer, of course, but you want him to tell you. Need him to.

Instead, he tugs you against him. His mouth finds yours, desperate, even as his arms tighten around your back, arching you against him. You cling to him, hands on either side of his face, as he pushes against you.

He nips your bottom lip, and you gasp, giving him the chance to slide his tongue along yours. Your hands slide to his hair, tugging, and he groans against your mouth.

You cheeks are wet, and you’re not sure if they’re your tears or his, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s pulling away, resting his forehead against yours.

“This is it.”

~~~

Leaving Kamino is a painful, chaotic blur. You see Jango truly in action for the first time in a long time, sitting beside Boba in the cockpit as Jango fights for his life.

Boba tries to help, getting off a few shots before the man — one of the Jedi — knocks Jango’s jet pack away and the two tumble over the side.

“No,” Boba breathes beside you, reaching for your hand, even as he readies the ship to fly.

“We can’t leave him,” you gasp and Boba nods, brow furrowed. From beside him, you can see the sheen of tears he’s desperately fighting. He sits farther up, the both of you straining to see over the side.

The rain pounds on the ship, lightening streaking across the sky, thunder vibrating in your bones. The top of Jango’s head peaks over the side, followed by the rest of him as he hauls himself up, the man nowhere to be seen.

“Come on,” you whisper, as he rushes towards the ship. Boba slips back into his seat, adjusting the controls. As soon as Jango boards, Boba punches a button, closing the ramp and demonstrating a skill with the ship that you didn’t know he possessed.

You slide out of Jango’s way as he takes his seat, snapping off his helmet and on his headset. Together, the two of them get the ship into the air. You glance back, at the Jedi, holding his lightsaber, then beyond him, to the place that’s been your home for so, so long.

The jump to hyperspace is silent, Jango still catching his breath.

“Where are we going?” Boba is the first to speak. Jango adjusts the controls, flicking a few buttons and switches.

“Geonosis,” he says. “We have allies there.” You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You do?

“What about the Kaminoans?” you ask. He side-eyes you.

“I’ve done my job for them.” It’s vague, and you don’t like the way he straightens his shoulders, like he’s preparing for another battle.

“And then?” Boba adjusts his controls, mirroring Jango, who nods at him. Jango gives you his full attention, crooked smile gracing his lips.

“We’ll be safe.” Maybe it’s the way he nods as he says it, as if he’s convincing himself, or maybe it’s the way his hand tightens on Boba’s shoulder. It might even be the white-knuckle grip he has on the controls, the only indication that something’s amiss, while your recent argument floats through your head.

Whatever it is, his words don’t settle properly, leaving you more worried than you were.

[slymewitch]

Some stuff I bought at a nerd toy store in Salem, all for only 60 bucks.

I got a balloon freddy plush for 15 that Im naming little Timby

I got an A Wing model for another 15 which was awesome

An old toy for Zam Wessel’s speeder but the packaging is damaged and the toy itself needs washing so I got it for 10

An infinity gauntlet (no you cant move the fingers) thats dirty so another 10, not into marvel anymore but it just seemed cool to get and its from an MCU movie I actually like and it was on the cheap

And 2 japanese pokemon card packs for 3 dollars each. They had only 5 cards each and they had a different design on the back so either this is a special thing or maybe thats just how they are in Japan.

I also got a drampa card out of this with an awesome design thats really complemented by the Japanese text

And not part of the 60 but I got a milk at Honey Dew, because hydration is important.

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

Fake title meme: Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid of a Bomb (for any characters your heart desires :3 )

Thank you so much for this prompt because it was amazing AND I uh... accidentally wrote three fills for it xD I will link two of them because they are more esoterically related to the title...

A Court of Fey and Flowers (Gen)

Nandor x Guillermo

And then this one is played straight kind of. xD

Jango Fett x Zam Wessell x Cad Bane

It was probably not the wisest move to all gather round the Device, now that they knew it was a Bomb of unknown origin, kind, or ignition. But instinct was a hard thing to overcome, Jango knew.

And there was always some foolish drive in the flames of youth to follow instinct. Especially if it was to try and figure out how something blows up.

“So let me get this straight,” Bane grumbled, and Jango glanced up to see him rubbing at his temple. “You two clowns stole this from Hondo Ohnaka… So that we can sell it to Jabba. And none of know what it is. Or if this is a trap.”

“Clowns is a little harsh,” Zam bumped her hip into the duros’s, teasingly. Bane’s eyes narrowed and he scowled, but they’d all known each other long enough now—no one else could see that if he was really annoyed, more of his teeth would show—the lack of sharp canines in the expression let the slight twinge of affection shine through. Despite himself, Jango smiled.

Zam waved her hands in that wild way she only really did around the two of them, nearly hitting both of them as she began her long, convoluted explanation of the plan. Jango had heard it. It was. Stupid. But it was also clever. And ballsy. Something he knew only the three of them could pull of.

They just needed to convince Bane to use his tech skills to figure out precisely what they had stolen and how much they could charge for hazard pay.

“You’re so clever with all your little devices,” Zam was good at buttering up, but Jango knew Bane. He had an ego, as they all did, but among the three of them he appreciated competence and honesty.

“Most of which you stole, so this’ll be easy for you,” so Jango teased him. Bane shot him a much more fiery glare. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a little. He knew what that specific glare meant too. And what it would mean later. He would look forward to it, but after the job was done.

Zam rolled her eyes, but was smiling. She liked to watch them flirt. He wasn’t sure why. But it wasn’t as if the two of them didn’t have their own share of flirtations that Bane rolled his eyes at. “And we know that the only person we trust to not get us killed is you, Bane. Just think of the Nemoidia job.”

“Don’t bring up the Nemoidia job,” Bane and Jango said at once. They even sighed at once. Zam called it something in Clawdite. She’d told him what it meant once. Shared soul. There was a word like that in Mando’a. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell Bane that. But part of him wondered if duros had a word too.

There was a pause. Zam would hold her breath during those pauses. For the drama, she would explain. And Bane would always just wait a little too long, just until her eyes bugged out a little. 

“Fine, fine!” Bane threw his hands up and knelt by the Device. “Get outta here, let me do all the hard work.”

Zam laughed, and skipped out of the ship, the victory practically glowing off of her. When she’d fully gone, Jango took the risk, and knelt over to kiss Bane lightly on the top of his bald blue head.

Bane only could stand public displays of desire, not affection. Affection was hard for him. He tensed, as he tended to, but relaxed into Jango’s touch, and only Jango’s. 

“Don’t blow up,” he smiled into a second kiss. 

Bane looked up at him, one brow raised. “What, you’ll miss me?”

“Something like that.”

[starwarstoxicfemslash]

zam wessel is out there, taking a hit on some upstart dove senator. shapeshifting into a round-faced brunette girl, fitting in with the rest of her security staff. and then, when she's all alone in bed, she makes her move, with senator amidala at her mercy

ok but this is literally canon? zam wesel breaks into padmé's room, attacks her with a worm (🤨), and then absconds once the hetero man of the franchise arrives on the scene. i think we can call it on this one