#oc jedi's mother

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

I Have No Mother, Only A Brother

Warnings and Information: Not a new story, just a more masterlist-friendly format since I'm unable to make the edits I want to the original written last year so things fit a little more in-line with the rest of the series visually speaking. Reference/allusion to canon-typical violence, injury, death and loss. Bad health conditions for civilians as a result of a Separatist blockade. Clone OC backstories and how they died. Several characters are not explicitly named as of this installment, just like in NTMY,B. Narrative and stylistic use of italics. No Mando'a here. Use of Star Wars and real-world swearing. Canvas doesn't like the Kaminoans, he's rather scared of them.

Word-count: 3,027

"Isn't it a little sad?" the nat-born child who's been asking so many questions starts up again after five minutes, the allotted break time as asked. The little one's parents sigh wearily. Here we go. There's beckoning hands, straining arms. 

"Is what sad, little mite?" The trooper only resituated their hold on the child with a twisted ankle they'd been carrying for several klics now. They still had a long way to go before they reached the Republic camp where these starving people on a far-flung planet had been subjected to horrid war crimes by the Separatists. No; let me hold them a little longer, it's fine. They weigh far less than a supply crate, this is easy for me. 

"Well… is it true that you don't have a mommy like people say?" This little one was born just before or near the very start of the Clone Wars, supposedly, and part of a humanoid species, so they're different from human nat-born children and develop differently… but the level of intellect and insight is still surprising. 

"It is," the trooper starts, mentally shaking away the thought that he'd have to dumb this down for the toddler who was meeting Clones in the flesh for the first time now. "We don't have any mothers, except for Kamino. That's where we come from." Don't think of the long-necks. Don't think of the long-necks. Don't think of the long-necks; think of your brothers! 

"So isn't it sad?" they ask again, cuddling sweetly against the stiff and impossibly firm surface of plastoid that encircles the trooper's body with a great pout on their face. That can't be comfortable for the kid. The trooper wishes he could take off the helmet so the little one can see the sympathetic smile, touched by the concern and sadness a nat-born child has for a man without a mother. But he's offered to carry this child until they get to the camp and the hospital tent where a medic-brother can splint the bad foot. There's not a great way to carry his own helmet should he remove it; other hands are busy with helping men, women and children too emaciated and weak to make this trek unsupported, or are leading the livestock with firm hands, or like the little mite's mother, carrying even littler children. An infant. 

There are so many infants. The General has cut their cloak into long strips so the brothers who have volunteered themselves to carry a suffering family's baby have something to buffer and soften the swaddling arms in plastoid armor. The three brothers who carry the five orphans of the village are quiet. They move so gingerly and are so tender to allow these little ones to sleep as long as they can; the best sleep these little ones have had since losing their mothers. 

"I guess many would see it that way. But it's hard to be sad about it when I have so many brothers to keep me company." The little one looks up at the trooper in awe and excitement. Brothers. They had something in common! The baby swaddled to the woman's chest with a meager blanket is a little boy, apparently. Born just before the Separatist's blockade and occupation. 

"How many brothers? Hundreds?" That'd been the popular guess when he and his brothers showed up with several Generals to offer aid and support to one of these many villages clustered near one another in this sector of the planet. 

"More than that."

"A thousand?" 

"Haha. More than that, little one." 

"Ah… a million? O-or the one that's bigger than that! That many brothers?" 

"That'd be "billion". A billion is bigger than a million." 

"You have a billion brothers?!" 

"Probably. Even I don't know. There's not enough time to meet all of them when we're helping people like you, ya little mite." Some he'd never get to because they were already gone. Some were already lost to this war well before he stepped off Kamino. Some shortly after. 

Cocky nerf-herder though he was, brave Gunnar… he'd been the first. Selfless. He wasn't immediately fond of the Force-wielders. The Jedi. Not like the other Shinies.

"We're their canon fodder, they don't care about us. Throw enough brothers at the problem until it goes away and then don't so much as mourn us!"

It changed when their General was cradling the body of a badly-injured brother while they were waiting for the team medic to find their position. Their General held the dying trooper and promised the medic-brother was on their way, "just hold on, son. Yes, he's coming. H-he's going to take care of you. You were very brave out there trying to keep your brothers safe."

When the battlefield medic trooper had finally reached their position and could take over for the General in taking care of this brother, he'd succumbed to his injuries only seconds later. Their General got up and left, stoic and unspeaking, and Gunnar had enough and wanted to give the General a damn tongue-lashing. But when Gunnar found the General, back pressed into the dark trunk of those towering trees and weeping silently, he suddenly realized he had their first General all wrong. 

"I think I had 'em all wrong… guess some of those Jedi really do give a banthashit about us. Found the General mourning that brother who died as soon as the medic got here. They're imperfect, brother. These… peacekeepers aren't sure how to be warriors. Not all of 'em. They're tryin'."  

Cryfar had been the second to perish. Oh sweet, well-meaning Cryfar.

To their batch, it was an in-joke that it was a miracle this son of Kamino had made it as far as he had. Either one too many blows to the head during a session of hand-sparring in one of the training centers, or something went awry with his jar, but the kid could not get his left-and-right or his phrasings sorted out when he got overexcited.

Which was often.

"Hahaha! Just wait til I send those Seppies runnin'! This war'll be a cryfar from-" The entire batch groaned, Gunnar the loudest before taking a breath to explain why the other, older brothers were laughing at the excitable Shiny with a glowering look over his shoulder. The seasoned troops stopped, recognizing the look.

"It's "a far cry from", brother. It's okay. They don't mean to be mean to ya, I'm sure… You just get excitable. Not your fault. Remember to be careful, right?" 

"R-right! I'll be careful!" 

"Watch out for the pits, too." 

"Sure thing!" 

Faro had been third. Pushed the other two brothers out of the way of danger time and time again. They'd lost Gunnar, and they'd lost Cryfar. Faro was not going to lose these brothers too.

He was gruff and stoic much in the same way like Gunnar without the impulsive streak, but about just as much patience as Gunnar had. ("You were going to kriffing lecture the General? No of course this Jedi cares about the Clones if you just paid attention to them for five min- That's the stupidest- If you would stop being so gun-ho about certain things for five minutes the COs would finally let you in the gunner's mount like you've been asking and- What's that look for!?")

Every time he'd saved their skins he'd simply sigh sharply at them before asking if these two bucket-heads really expected him to save them every time. So that last time… he looked at those yet-unnamed brothers and fondly murmured he'd do it each and every time in a heartbeat, staring up into the great and endless starfield above him with the remnants of a BX-series droid commando scattered around him.

"It's just gonna be the two of you now, brothers. I-I don't think I can watch out for you anymore. Clanker bastard got me real good with that fluke shot… but I'd do it all again in… a d-damn… heartbeat." 

Fluke took the name from Faro's dying words as a way to remember him. Maybe he shouldn't have. The word became a curse, an omen. It seemed to seal his fate. He shouldn't have survived that droid commando encounter, it was just a lucky chance that Faro accidentally strayed a little too far from his post and found his brothers getting attacked when he did.

He was thrown from a speeder-bike after getting shot and narrowly avoided plunging into a deep chasm. Two sets of ration packs fell out of the supply crate and were exposed to direct sunlight for several hours before anyone noticed and put those back in with the others. He and another brother both felt a little sick after dinner and each said he'd be turning in early to try to sleep it off.

"Guess it's just not agreeing with me, or something. I'm sure it's nothing… I'll see you in the morning, yeah? Love ya, brother." 

"Love ya too, Fluke. Goodnight.

"G'morning Fluke, you feelin' any better? Want me to get the medic to… Fluke, c'mon brother, this isn't funny; talk to me. You really feeling that bad? Y-you're cold! Wh-why are you so… FLUKE!!"

"Do you get along with all of your brothers?" The Clone unit escorting this village's survivors were getting closer to the refugee camp, so it was time to squeeze in some last questions and they'd been quiet for a while now. Canvas just chuckled. He'd been carrying this little one for a while now, watching as they turned one of his most precious possessions in their hands over and over again. The whittled nest of endangered birds from his first campaign. They'd taken great care not to drop it. Carver would've appreciated hearing that such a crude replication still held up to approval; he'd gotten so much better and thought all his old stuff was junk (save for the General's Mudhorn and this nest-set owned by Canvas). 

"Some better than others, but I get along with most of them, yes. All siblings have their squabbles; even us Clones. Maybe one day you'll drive your parents crazy by arguing with your little brother once he's big enough." The toddler grinned brightly up at the dusty helmet peering down at him and once again smoothed their hand over Fluke's scuff. Then Faro's. Cryfar's after that. Lastly, Gunnar's. Canvas's brothers all within easy reach, surrounding the scuff mark across the chest plate this little nat-born child was leaning against. Surrounded by the memory of his brothers, those who never judged him for not yet having a Name and respected his wishes not to Be Named yet. 

"Nuh-uh. I love my little brother! I never wanna argue with him when he's big enough." The little one's parents just smiled quietly in the lengthening shadows as the sun sunk behind the hills. They knew it wouldn't end up staying that way, but the sentiment was too sweet to correct. One day the screaming matches would come, and the accusations that they weren't sharing toys would rattle their eardrums, and a million other things. A welcome future to look forward to because the Republic answered their desperate plea for help and promised the inhabitants necessary aid.

"He'll tell you how lucky he feels one day that you love him so much." Canvas replied sagely, eyes staring ahead into that middle-ground where the light of the camp crept over the last ridge. That red splatter he was looking for was flying high over the center of the camp. Good. They'd gotten the medical tent set up.  

"One last question for the nice trooper before your father carries you to the medical tent, little one. Better make it count before he has to return to his commanding officers." the child's mother warned in a sweet voice. Oh he hated the way the little one frowned, Maker help him. His hold firmed up one last time. 

"I can carry the little one to the tent. It's no trouble."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes ma'am. It's no trouble." Canvas nodded affirmingly. 

"Thank you… ah, I don't believe we ever asked you your name, I am sorry." 

"Canvas. My brothers named me." he says with pride. How one came to Be Named by a brother happened in a variety of ways. Sometimes it was mockery. Sometimes it came from a joke. Even done completely unintentionally. But often it was done with love as they helped one another find an identity. More than a string of two letters and four numbers, brother. 

No mothers to name us, only brothers. 

"Your brothers named you?" the talkative toddler inquires, brightening up as Canvas continues to carry them through the camp. There was time for more questions after all. 

"They sure did." 

"And do you like your name?"

"I love my name." That name was a gift from his brothers. All of them. Its poetic origin meant too much to do anything but love it. 

"Which brother gave you your name? Was it one of them?" The little freckled fingers touched each scuff mark reverentially. (Maker, to think his own fingers were ever that little for a short time.)

"One of my commanding officers." They pass by a commanding officer with these words, entirely a funny little coincidence. But it's not Canvas's, this officer bears a different color. 

"Umm… Who has the funniest name? A-are there any?" 

"I have a brother named Scruffy." It's safe to make fun of Scruffy's name. Scruffy makes fun of his own name all the time because he knows the circumstances behind Being Named (accidentally) were silly. 

"Whoops, hair's gotten an inch past the standard cut… Think I'm starting to look a little-"

"Ahem."

"A-a little, uh, unkempt! I was gonna say unkempt!"

"Sure-sure…" 

Just three tents away from medical. 

"Who made you the bird nest again?" Canvas takes the whittled treasure back, tucking it away in his utility belt alongside the wooden worry stone. 

"My brother Carver." he reminds the toddler. Two more tents. Something's cooking nearby. It smells good. Really good. The families making their way to the camp will have their first good meal in a long time tonight. There's neatly stacked crates in front of the medical tent. That has to be Cairn's doing, but Canvas doesn't see any sign of the brother in the flesh. 

"So if he made you the bird nest, are birds your favorite animal?" 

"One of 'em, yeah." Canvas chuckles, nodding down at the child and then back up at the brother with the shattered cross painted on his plastoid. "Kid's in need of a splint, think you can help the little one out, brother?"

"Sure can, Canvas. Set up on the second cot for me, and grab yourselves a hydro pack each. You marched a long way in if you came from the southwest. No one's getting dehydrated on my watch." 

"Thank you, brother." Canvas nodded gratefully as he nabbed two foil pouches of filtered, treated water from a crate. He opened one and gave it to the child after gingerly lowering them to the second cot as indicated, and finally shucked the dusty helmet, hearing that familiar hiss as the vacuum broke. Much better. Was getting stuffy in there. "Hope you're ready for a talker." 

"Always." the medic laughs. It's promising. "I like the talkers now and then. You sit down and rest your feet." 

"But I should really go report in to the Cap-"

"Medic's orders, brother." Oh very well. Canvas just concedes; it'll be easier than trying to sweet-talk a brother who takes the mantra of "brother looks out for brother" so deeply to heart that he makes it a specified pathway beyond just his creation as a soldier. (Don't think of the long-necks… think of your brothers.) You're a fool to make these brothers upset with you. He takes a seat on an upturned crate put out for visitors to the med-tent, balancing his bucket on his knees as he cracks open his hydro pack and takes a deep swallow of water. He regrets it, but he'll be scolded for spitting it out.

Ugh. These are not the chemicals he's used to in Kamino's filtration and emergency desalinification systems. What planet treated this water? Coruscant? It's so bitter and heavy on his tongue… There's no touch of sweetness in the water like that of a bolster of emergency supplies from Naboo that had been sent by Senator Amidala. It's sour and tangy in such an unpleasant way. 

But that's not worth fussing about when he gets to listen to the little one start peppering the medic-brother with questions now as he prepared to set the bad foot in a splint so it will heal correctly and quickly with proper support. 

"Do Clones have a favorite brother?" Woof, what a loaded question to ask a medic. 

"Hah, get a load'a this kid, asking the tricky questions. Some do! Some brothers grow very close together, practically joined at the hip and I have to let the other brother stay so I can take care of the sick or injured one. Then there's Clones, like me, who love all their brothers equally. No favorites. Too many brothers to love and take care of for me personally to have favorites. But I know of a few who are someone's favorite brother." 

The medic-brother looked at Canvas over his shoulder briefly to first make sure he hadn't slunk off before he was properly rested AMA, but even in that quick look, Canvas knew there was another meaning in those warm, smiling eyes. Seasoned troopers tended to hear if a fresh-faced brother needed some extra support and became a favorite; whether that was for life, or until the Shiny found their feet under themselves. 

Canvas knew that applied to him in each sense; he was so grateful for it now. Grateful for those brothers who took care of him because they had a rather… unique mother. (Forget the long-necks.)

If Kamino was their mother, and all her sons were brothers, then they should take good care of one another. 

We have no traditional mothers. Just a billion brothers.

[Clone OC Masterlist]

[FIRST] [NEXT]

[cryo-lily]

Sometimes a family is (temporarily) a failing Jedi and her 3 Vulptillas.

(Blue is named Speki, Infernal is named Svanna, and Opal is named Svelka)

Issie originally found them on Nar Shaddaa captured and attempted to be sold by some group of poachers on the black market. During her original mission there she stumbled upon the operation and ended up freeing them. The 3 litter mates ended up forming a strong bond with their rescuer and refused to leave her side.

Eventually Issie tamed them enough to be able to ride them and even train them to attack on her command. The 3 vulptillas for the longest time only listened to Isdaola and were very ill-tempered toward anyone but her.

Well at least until Isadola met Lana, then much to Issie's surprised they were actually pretty tame toward the sith when Issie introduced Lana to them on Rishi. Speki took a particular shine to Lana in particular of the 3.

During the 5 years Issie was frozen in carbonite, Issie's prized beast companions were once again captured and trying to be sold off again by folks claiming to have the Barsen'thor's killer vulptillas. Before her venture into wild space in search for Isadola, Lana got wind of the information, and remembering how fond Issie showed she was toward the creatures, went to rescue them.

In rescuing them, Lana also managed to gain the trust of the dangerous creatures. And in a quiet moment alone after freeing the 3, Lana managed to let her guard down briefly to share a moment with the vulptillas sensing they also missed Isadola just as much as she did. Lana promising to bring Issie back to them (not only for herself though she wasn't ready to admit it at the time) before her trip into Wild Space to begin her search in earnest.

[chaoticspacefam]

“I’ve been thinking about this lately. I was trained to be a Jedi, practically from birth...I wonder if it was the right thing. I never really got the chance to choose.”

“You can do whatever you want now, Ashara.” “....I guess I’m still trying to figure out what I want.”

[nun-draws]

talzin: she is yours

dooku: ..... why is she purple

talzin: STOP ASKING QUESTIONS 

[grandninjamasterren]

Ivanye, your Sith is showing, might wanna tone it down a bit.

[nerdyerror]

Ili-Raisa Aang (the mother of Obi-Wan Kenobi and scarer of Qui-Gon Jinn) Pictured age 60 (star wars: attack of the clones era)

The fandom apparently: Stewjon is space Scotland

Me: Stewjon is a mash-up of all human cultures (and several non-human ones), held together by the ancient religion of the Je’daii.

[mara-tevith-solo]

Fate Thinks She’s Funny

Screw it, I might make this a series. Part of the One Enchanted Evening fic. Reader here has a recycled OC background I made for the MCU. Essentially came to Earth after Order 66 in the 90′s, was forcibly conscripted in the US Military and she gets tangled up in everything because of the Ancient One, the Jedi inability to not meddle, and Billy. It’s a 43k word fic that is no where near complete and probably will never be

Pairing: Adam Warlock x ex-avenger/guardian! reader

Warnings: Canon levels of violence, love at first sight, prospective death, Adam pulling his punches just for you because he hates the idea of hurting you after 0.001 seconds, reader compares him to a Rancor of all things 

Words: 1.8k+

Rated: 18+ as always

It was the crashing that alerted you initially, pulling you from the half-sleep you had managed to finally fall into. You didn't even bother shutting the door to your apartment behind you as you went to investigate, Groot wrapped around something on fire shooting past without much preamble. You were fully awake before he was out of sight, already trying to calculate his trajectory to be there to stop him. You ran over walkways and tight wires, not truly looking where you were going besides making sure the way was clear, making sure that no one would get hurt from the debris. It barely occurred to you that you were only dressed in one of Stephen's old shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts, your main concern being the citizens, and then the attacker.

A mother and child huddled on main street gave you pause, the mother trying to shelter her screaming child as debris began raining down towards them. Protecting them with the Force was reactionary, no really thought put into it until they were safe and you were on the move again. You skidded to a stop on a catwalk as Kraglin's arrow smacked the man harmlessly across the cheek, making him stop angrily in his tracks "Who threw this thing at me?" He demanded sharply, looking around the rubble he'd created. No one dared to answer him, all of them hiding and fighting to remain silent despite their fear. He looked, disarmed by the fear, choosing to move on "Baby." He chided before continuing on his path.

Landing on the attacker was easy, he was strutting through main street like he owned the place, like he wasn't trying to tear it apart bit by bit. He fell to the ground under you with an annoyed yell, your claws sinking into his shoulders before you were moving off of him, twisting and throwing him over your head and down into the ground with a shout. You didn't wait for the dust to settle to grab him again, hoisting him up to his feet as he tried regaining his barrings. For a moment, one single solitary moment, your eyes met, gold giving way to his pupils as they dilated, his breath stuttering as his golden lips dropped open the barest fraction. There was something star struck in his expression, something you forced yourself to not dwell on as you let go of his tunic just long enough to Spartan Kick him further away from where he'd thrown Nebula. He didn't go far, landing on his back with a forced exhale before he was clambering up to his feet with a bewildered glare "Do that again and I'll be forced to kill you." He was warning you as he shook the dust from his person, not taking his eyes off your form.

"Pity." You huffed, calling my saber, reaching back towards your apartment.

"What's that? What is the purpose of that?" He asked, genuinely curious, tilting his head like a puppy. It genuinely caught you off guard, both the fact that he genuinely didn't know what you were doing, and the fact that he seemed so innocent in that moment. You didn't answer him, instead taking a ready stance as soon as the hilt was in your hand, the familiar hum and yellow hue a comfort. He blinked, taking in your position and your weapon before deciding that you were still intent on being a threat, powering up with a frustrated grunt and a silent snarl, his hands engulfed in blades of light. It was like dancing, fighting with him, meeting him strike for strike even though it didn't feel like his heart was fully in it. He depowered one hand enough to grab your saber hand, immobilizing it no matter how hard you struggled, making you grab his arm that was still powered up, holding it above both of your heads in a struggle of wills. "I do not want to kill you." He admitted with a grunt, trying to break the hold you had on him.

"Not the first time I've heard that." You growled back a little bitterly, straining against him for a moment before you saw an opening and took it. Your forehead collided with his, a resounding crack! echoing through your head and the square as he cried out in pain, stumbling blindly back in retreat. "Fucking hell." You groaned, doubling over as you pressed your freehand to your forehead, trying to sooth the ache that was still blooming there. You could feel the tale tell tickle of a small track of blood dripping down the bridge of your nose, but didn't think much of it as you focused an eye on him, watching him recollect himself with that snarl of his.    

"Are you always this stubborn?!" He asked you indignantly, throwing his hands out with exasperation.

You couldn't stop your expression if you wanted to, open bewilderment taking your face by storm as you just stared at him "You're trying to kill my friends! Of course I'm 'being stubborn'!"

"I just want the squirrel." He rebutted as though it was so simple.

"You can't have our friend! He's not property!"

Before he could say another word, Drax grabbed him and began throwing him around "Pick on someone your own size!"  

You wanted to just hide somewhere as you backed away from the two men, your heart pounding deafeningly in your chest as Drax threw him into the headquarters sign "Y/n!" You could hear Mantis calling desperately from the med center, tears in her voice spurring you into action, ignoring the suddenly very determined man as he lifted himself from the dirt. You had to stop, your eyes glued to the scene, as the man met Drax hit for hit, matching every bit of his strength easily. It made you want to throw up. You watched, helpless, as beams of light came from the man's hands again, Drax barely able to stop them, holding the man at bay with groans of strain. "Y/n! Help!" Mantis wailed again, but you couldn't tear your gaze away as the stranger's power began to whine audibly, getting brighter and brighter until he was blowing Drax back with it.    

As soon as he straddled and began pummeling Drax you were in motion, charging without a thought of your own safety. You dove at the last possible moment, only loosing a cry when your shoulder collided with his ribs, ripping him off of Drax and into the dirt with you. Scrabbling for dominance in the dirt with him, you didn't care to use finesse, or any true skill. He'd already proven that he was ridiculously strong, that you had to fight dirty to get any advantage. You barely paid attention to the darkening of his cheeks and neck as you straddled his waist and tried to punch his lights out, your fist raining punishment into his pretty face over and over again as your other hand kept you anchored to him, fisted tightly into the collar of his tunic. He seemed more concerned with trying to fend off the blows than fight back "ENOUGH!" He roared under you, almost succeeding in turning over under you as he tried to protect himself. You didn't listen to him as you pressed him back down, driving your fist into his sternum as you continued to punch the daylights out of him. "I said," He grabbed you by the thighs, his hands engulfing them by nearly half before he was usurping your position, driving your back into the dirt, his weight pressing down between your legs "enough!" It was only at that moment that he seemed to realize the position he had put you both in, making you feel like you were on fire as he stared down at you with those wide doe eyes that just screamed innocence.

You blinked back up at him, suddenly uncomfortable with the vulnerable position, your grip on his collar almost slackening with the shock that you liked it, until Drax groaned in pain, snapping you back to reality. Your legs tightened around his lower ribs, locking at the ankles behind him as you squeezed for all you were worth, not letting up as he sucked in a panicked, ragged breath. His hands found your thighs again as he sat up, dragging you up with him as you resumed punching and he tried pushing, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh, trying to pry you off before you constricted him to death. In a split second he gave up trying to get you off of him, his hand molding around the column of your throat like it was made to be there, cutting off your own breath as he pressed you back down into the dirt with a heavy glare. You tightened your hold on his ribs defiantly as you tried to pry his hand off, snarling right back up at him as he reared his fist back to finally fight back. A glowing blade erupted from his chest, instantly taking the fight out of him as he incredulously looked from you to it "That... hurts!" He breathed as golden blood dripped from the tip of the blade and down onto your shirt, immediately standing out from the blood sweat and dirt that clung to it.

"What a pity." Nebula growled from behind him as his hand loosened around your throat, allowing you to suck in a greedy lungful of air that had never tasted so sweet. The man looked back down at you as you gulped down ragged breaths past your burning throat, a small trickle of blood dripping past his lips as he grunted in pain. You let him go as soon as the blade retreated, letting him fall to the dust beside you. You couldn't look at him, it hurt to and you couldn't figure out why, why his imminent death was going to bother you. He'd been trying to kill your friends since he'd arrived on Knowhere and yet... "Still alive down there?" Nebula's voice broke you out of your thoughts and slammed you back into the moment as the man continued to suffer quietly beside you.

She was fighting a ghost of a smile as she offered you an arm "He hits like a Rancor." Your voice was still rough as it passed your burning throat, your healing taking its sweet time as you accepted her help to climb to your feet. She just shook her head with amusement before going to Drax, leaving you there. You didn't want to, but you looked down at the man, acknowledging his gaze as he turned onto his back, his eyes begging you for help "I'm sorry, I didn't want it to end like this." The words felt right as they hit the air, your chest aching at the idea that he'd die there. You were quick to turn away from him and limp to the Med Center, your thighs shivering with every step. You didn't want to face his death, didn't want to acknowledge it and you couldn't figure out why.  

[graveyard-stray]

Bedtime Story | Obi-Wan Kenobi x GN Reader

Synopsis: Obi-Wan tells the younglings the story of a courageous Jedi Knight who has saved him in battle quite a few times.

Includes: fluff!, battle, VERY small cameo from my own personal Star Wars OC, Sassy reader, Rex is a little shit but we love him, ONE use of Y/N, Clone Wars & ROTS era Obi-Wan, italics are flashback!

Not proofread

Word count: 2.4K

The door to the younglings common area closed with a thud as Obi-Wan entered the room, a soft smile on his lips as he brought the young Jedi back from their afternoon training session.

Obi-Wan wasn’t usually tasked with teaching the younglings but Yoda was a bit busy so he took up the responsibility without complaint. As they returned to the main area he was about ready to send them off to their quarters to turn in for the night. “Okay young ones, it’s time to head off to bed for the evening. I’ll see you all in the morning.” He said with a smile.

As he turned to leave the room he felt a small tug on the bottom of his robes. He tilted his head down to see one of the younger children tugging on the bottom softly in order to get his attention. “Master Kenobi…can you tell us a story?” Mumbled the small voice.

He chuckled a bit, “a story? About what exactly?” He asked, squinting down to get on the child’s level. “One of your awesome adventures!” Another kid chimed, this one on the older side.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment before it finally hit him, “oh I’ve got the perfect story for you all” he decides before moving to sit in a comfortable seat on the far end of the room. All the younglings quickly scurry to gather around him, sat all over the floor smiling and visibly excited for a tale.

“This is the story of one of the bravest Jedi knights I know. They have saved me more times than I’d like to admit!” He explains, leaning forward to further engage and interest the kids. “One of the bravest things they have done was at the very start of the war.” he starts. “We were in a fierce battle on the planet Felicia, a beautiful colorful planet that at this time was crawling with droids! And we were surrounded!” he began to tell the story to the beaming younglings

The battlefield is loud, Obi-Wan and You are surrounded by at least 100 B1 battle droids with seemingly no way out.

Obi-Wan backed up till he felt himself bump into you. His head turns but his body stays in a battle ready stance. “Seems like we are in a bit of a situation here.” Obi-Wan pointed out. You rolled your eyes at him, also in a ready stance. “Oh you don’t say!” Your tone is very clearly sarcastic and you lean against his back for support, your tired and struggling to catch your breathe.

“Sorry dear, just trying to lighten the mood.” he apologizes briefly. “So, you got any plans?” You roll your eyes again at this. “Do I have any plans? I thought you were the genius council member. Your lucky your pretty” you joked, agreeing that maybe a joke to calm you both wasn’t horrible in this situation, it always benefited you to stay calm.

He let out a low chuckle, “alright alright, we could always just charge and see what happens” he suggests. You shrug at this, “I mean we could but we are a bit outnumber” you point out. “Ya know we could-“ you started

You hear a voice that breaks you both from this side conversation and interrupts you, “why are you just standing there! Drop your weapons!” One of the droids yell. This turns Obi-Wans head sharply towards the source of the voice. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to interrupt people!” he said with a shocked tone before quickly charging towards the group of droids and attacking them.

You rub a hand over your face in defeat, “charge it is then.” You say to yourself before taking on the droids that you had been facing.

The two of you were doing a very decent job holding your own in this battle. Obi-Wan had always been very skilled with his lightsaber and general martial arts, his fighting always reminded you of a dance and this was something you admired about him. You on the other hand were also good with your saber but were a bit less elegant and focused more on the force. A talented force wielder you managed to rip plenty of droid heads off their bodies in quite a short amount of time.

Just as the two of you thought you were in the clear and safe from the droid attack, another wave hit. At Least two hundred more droids came at you from all angles and once again the two of you found yourselves surrounded.

“This is your last chance. Surrender or be exterminated.” one of the droids said, in their usual robotic tone. Obi-Wan turned to you, “I’m not sure we have another option.” He confessed. But you wouldn't give up so easily. You frantically looked around the area for anything that could possibly help you in this situation, and that’s when you spotted it. There was a ledge near by, it was high up but if the two of you could just make it up there you would be able to get away with ease.

You grabbed onto Obi-Wans arm. “Aww you know I don’t mind you holding on to me love, but there is no need to be frightened.” He attempted to comfort. “Dont flatter yourself Kenobi. I’m getting us out of this mess.” You said before tightening your grip on him and using the force to jump the both of you high into the air. Obi-Wan let out quite the yell at the surprised and you would feel bad if it wasn’t for the fact he screamed like a girl and it was quite funny.

As you managed to land on the ledge you both tumbled to the ground from the momentum and the fact that your not used to force jumping with another person. “God you know I hate flying.” He grumbled as he got himself off the ground. “Yeah, ya know a simple thanks for saving my life would’ve worked too.” You scolded. He chuckled and planted a kiss on your temple, “Yes yes, thank you for saving me.”

the two of you looked down at the swarm of droids below who were no frantically searching for you. “We should probably get going.” You figured. He nodded and hummed in agreeance.

Thankfully a rescue ship had already been dispatched and took little time finding the two of you stranded out on the planet. It landed nearby and you ran over just excited to get home and into your beds.

“Welcome back Master Kenobi and Commander [Y/N] .” Said Rex as the two of you boarded the ship. “Ah Captain Rex, never thought I’d be so happy to see your face!” You said with a grin as you took a seat in the common area of the ship. “When I heard the two of you were in some trouble I knew I had to come down and see the sight for myself!” He explained. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “of course, truly insistent on our failure aren’t you.”

“Only when I’m bored” Rex responded with a chuckle. He leaned back in his seat as another one of the clones came in from the cockpit, “We are going to liftoff now sir. Are we heading back to Coruscant?” He asked Rex, who just nodded. “Alright, enjoy the flight” the soldier nodded before turning on his heel and heading back to the cockpit.

You all sat in silence for a moment before Obi-Wan asked, “How exactly did you hear about us being trouble anyway?” Rex smiled, “Anakin. Him and that girl he always hangs around were headed to come find you but I insisted they let me come instead. Told them they have much better things to do then clean up after their old masters!” He smiled. You nodded, “Ah of course, those two always can be found together. Well I guess I’m grateful for it in this instance since you saved our asses!”

Obi-Wan quirked a brow at this. “He saved our asses? Far from it, it was you who save us!” he said with almost shocked expression. “They saw we were surrounded and launched us into the air and onto that ledge you found us on. Without them we would’ve been toast!” He exclaimed.

“Oh I mean it wasn’t really that impressive I just got us out of the way is all.” You said humbly, propping your legs up on a footrest. Obi-Wan interjected, “and humble too, truly the finest Jedi you’ll ever find!” He praised. Rex laughed out loud and the two of you looked at his confused.

“God no wonder your padawans are so obsessed with each other, look at how the two of you act with one another! Like an old married couple!” He insisted. You both got a bit red in the face because, you basically were an old married couple. Of course you weren’t actually married but you might as well be. Rex didn’t know this, I mean how could he, but the fact he noticed something at all between the two of you definitely had you a bit anxious.

Obi-Wan shook his head, “No we are not, that’s ridiculous. I am simply thankful that they saved my life that’s all.” He insisted. “Anakin and Kaya are simply the way they are because they are both very strange creatures.” He elaborated. Rex laughed again, “well I can’t disagree with you there! Anyway, we should have a bit of time till we land so I suggest the two of you take some time to rest up, I trust you’ll have some meetings to attend to when we arrive home.” Rex advised. You agreed but Obi-Wan just sighed. His hatred for anything business related sometimes would out way his love of being a Jedi.

“And that, young children, is the end!” Obi-Wan announced as he leaned back in his chair. He was expecting to be met with claps or excitement but instead he was met with booing and complaints. “We want more!” “What happened to the Jedi knight?” “Who are they!?” were all yelled almost ontop of each other from the crowd of younglings. He was a bit taken aback by the reaction.

He threw up his hands defensively, “woah woah slow down one at a time kids!” He tried to calm the situation of the rowdy children. “Okay, said Jedi knight is fine! They are still a knight and went on to do a lot more good during the war and they still do good to this day. Nothing else to be said!” He answered definitely.

Another groan could be heard, “what was their name!” Asked one of the older kids. “None of your business.” Answered Obi-Wan. “But I wanna know! Please master Kenobi!” The child begged.

Obi-Wan just shook his head, “you must learn patience and to not dwell on such trivial things.” He insisted- which was really just his own clever way of avoiding the question. For some reason he felt like it would be obvious his feelings for you if he mentioned that it was you he spoke of, and he feared the kids mentioning his stories about you to you when they saw you. But much to his dismay….

“Ehem.” A voice cleared sounded as someone cleared their throat. All the children’s heads turned quickly to the source of the sound which came from the door to the room. Leaned against the doorway was the same Jedi Obi-Wan was oh so familiar with. “You telling stories about me in here Kenobi?” your voice echoed in the large room.

The children looked from you back to Obi-Wan and began giggling almost knowingly. He got flustered, “oh uh well the kids wanted to hear a story from my adventures so I figured…ya know we’ve been on a lot together so it was really inevitable and. How long have you been standing there..?” He asked.

You chuckled at his embarrassment, “pretty much the whole time. I appreciate the tales of my heroism though but you left out all the times you’ve saved me.” You noted. Obi-Wan turned back to the children, “see kids, as humble as ever!” Which caused the kids to laugh some more.

“Anyway it’s time for you all to be off to bed isnt it. Go on now! You’ve got training with master yoda bright and early tomorrow.” He said, crossing his arms and motioning with his head to the younglings private quarters.

They all groaned but shuffled away to their rooms, a few “good nights” could be heard from the exiting crowd. As the door to the private area slid shut, Obi-Wan felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face you and wrapped his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Gosh those children truly drive me wild sometimes.” He comments and you nod in agreeance. “Yeah well don’t all children.” You added which made him laugh.

“Didn’t realize you liked me saving you so much Kenobi” You teased, leaving a peck on his cheek. He brings his head away from your shoulder to look at you and you can see his cheeks go a bit pink again, “what can I say, after saving so many others it’s nice to be the damsel in distress every now and again.” he defends. “Yeah well if you ever need saving. You know I’ll be there.” You promise, putting your hand in his hair as he rests his head against you once more.

“My knight in shining armor” he mumbled as you two stood there alone for a moment, relishing in the peaceful times like this you got to share oh so rarely. “Well I think it’s time we get off to bed aswell.” You added, noting how physically tired he seemed after the long day you knew he had.

He stood up fully, “yeah your probably right, like always.” he agreed as he took your hand in his. “I’m just glad we convinced them to let us share a room, or all these sleepovers would look very suspicious.” He laughed. “Oh yeah- definitely!” You agreed.

The two of you walked hand in hand, the hallways luckily being pretty empty at this hour, till you made it to your living quarters. You both changed into some comfier clothes and slipped under the covers, more than ready to get a good night’s sleep.

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, I know that I already reblogged @antianakin's post about why Anakin didn't need to murder an entire Tusken village because 2-3 of them killed his mom (original post here), but I just feel the need to talk about one of the most damning examples of why Anakin has no excuse for that response.

Post Order 66 Jedi/Clone interactions.

Let's just say, for the sake of the argument, that the entirety of the Tusken village--including the literal babies and children--all took part in the torture/murder of Shimi Skywalker. No exceptions.

Anakin's response to his mother's death is to murder everyone with no remorse or a second thought. Even when he confesses what he did to Padme, the RotS novel clearly shows that he doesn't actually feel bad about what he did. Most of his worry is about what others will think of him and, ironically, about how he's a "good Jedi" that should be better than this.

Now let's move on...

Every clone took part in Order 66 in some way.*

The clones murdered every single Jedi they could in cold blood (albeit without a choice), including the children, with only a miniscule few survivors. How many do we canonically have right now that didn't get captured and become Inquisitors? Obi-Wan, Quinlan, Cal, Caleb/Kanan, and Gungi are all I can think of at the moment.** That's 5 Jedi, out of thousands, that survived--and that's not even mentioning the destruction of their places of worship/cultural artifacts and the shitty propaganda spread about their culture.

* I'm not including the Bad Batch because, my own opinions about the show/characters/writing/etc. aside, we can all agree that the only reason their chips didn't activate was because they're Filoni's beloved OCs and he has a habit of trying to make his OCs "special" in some way.

** I'm not including Ahsoka in this because, like she says repeatedly as of Season 7 of TCW onward, she isn't a Jedi and doesn't see herself as such--and for the same reason I'm not including Grogu, since he's like...a Mandalorian apprentice now and not technically a Jedi. I'm also not including Luminara because she eventually gets captured and killed pretty early on and I'm trying to only include Jedi that are alive for a significant amount of time in the Imperial Era.

So, how do the Jedi treat the clones after they murder their entire family and destroy their culture? Let's look!

-----

Example One:

Obi-Wan Kenobi never learns about the inhibitor chips, as of current canon. He is 100% under the impression that Cody and the 212th (as well as all of the other clones) just up and betrayed him and the Order for no reason. He also watched the security tapes that, yes, showed Anakin killing children, but also would have shown the clones killing Jedi as well.

In the Kenobi show he runs into a clone veteran of the 501st--a veteran who, in all likelihood, probably stormed the Temple and was a part of its destruction.

Does he spit in the clone's face? Call him a murderer? Kill or harm him in any way?

Nope!

He gives the veteran some of his credits, even though it's made a point in the show that Obi-Wan is now working with limited funds and is very poor at this point in time. He doesn't have credits to spare and he is supposed to be looking for Leia, but he takes a moment to give some to someone who took part in the genocide of his people.

He also routinely thinks about Cody and the 212th in the comics! He remembers them fondly and still connects Cody to the feeling of hope, even though they tried to kill him! Even though he has no idea that they never wanted to!

-----

Example Two:

Kanan Jarrus/Caleb Dume knows about the inhibitor chips, but in Rebels it's made very clear that he thinks that it's just something the clones made up so that they didn't have to take responsibility for their actions.

In Rebels, Ahsoka makes the (objectively bad) decision to send Kanan out to find her "old friends" to help the rebellion.*** Kanan then finds out that her "old friends" are three clones, only after he gets there and sees them. He reacts in a panic and ignites his saber, clearly freaking out a bit.

*** I'll probably expand on this later, because I have a lot of opinions on this particular decision of hers, but anyway-

Does he try to hurt and/or kill them? Do they have to fight him off? Does he even lunge in their direction or deflect Wolffe's blaster bolt at him?

Again, nope!

He steps in front of Ezra in a defensive position and, when shot at by Wolffe, deflects the bolt into their ship. Then, when Ezra steps in and says that Ahsoka said to trust them, Kanan de-ignites his saber and they all have a conversation about them helping in the rebellion--even though Kanan clearly doesn't trust them at all and is dealing with his PTSD while being there. Eventually he even comes to get along with/trust Rex, albeit in later episodes.

-----

Example Three:

Gungi, in the Bad Batch, meets up with the Batch and immediately recognizes them as clones. Now, we don't know his opinion on them and their betrayal because it's never really expressed, but it's safe to assume that he has no idea about the chips (at least, until Tech tells him) and it's clear that he's very scared at that point in time.

What does he do?

He hides in the corner of the ship and is wary about the food they offer to him.

That's literally it.

And then later in the episode he works together with TBB and trusts them enough to let them help defend his village.

-----

So, even with most of the Jedi either having no idea about the chips or likely doubting that story, we're shown over and over again that the Jedi never seek revenge against the clones or try to kill them after Order 66. Even though their lives were ruined by what the clones did/took part in, they're never shown to be actively trying to cause them harm.

So there is literally no way you could possibly justify Anakin killing an entire village of Tuskens because of his mother's death, when--in arguably the same/a worse situation--the Jedi are actively shown not doing that.

[cryo-lily]

Reasons why I maintain the headcanon that Isadola (regardless if it’s the Jedi or Sith Timeline) has an Imperial accent.

Jedi Issie hides hers due to her own experiences growing up, Sith Issie’s changed slightly due to her different experiences growing up.

(Also behold my poor vid editing skills due to only having one program at my disposal)

[suburbananarch]

A feeling in the force

Kanan didn’t need the force to feel something off about Hera lately.She wouldn’t say anything about it but she didn’t need too…she felt so tired? Empty? Like he could taste the bitter tears coming off her though it wasn’t visible on her face.Finally He couldn’t talk it any longer.He didn’t want to push her but it felt like the unshed tears where stinging him.So as she was heading to the cockpit ladder.He took her arm.

“Hera spill what’s going on.” Hera wasn’t the pity type so he needed a different approach.

“Nothing.” She responded.

“Thats a load of bantha fodder and we both know it.”

“Oh really how could you tell? Is it Jedi powers?” She replied more as a challenge.

“I don’t need the force to tell something is wrong now please talk to me.”

“Nothing…” she said with a pause this time

Im not going to get anything from her am I?He thought to himself.

“Nothing, except for the fact that we still haven’t found a base! lothal is still under siege and I just got word from fulcrum that ry-!” Her tone was rising as she spoke ending her rant with a growl as soon as she said ry- cutting herself off.He has never really heard her mention anything about her her home or her past if that was even relevant.

“This galaxy has gone to the wolves.Im going to bed.”she was about to head up the cockpit ladder when Kanan gently took her arm and rubbed his thumb over it.

“That never stopped you before, it never stopped us before.”

“Kanan thats sweet but not now I-“ and suddenly she was transported back to ryloth.Her father Cham had gotten badly injured in a battle, so much so that they weren’t sure if he would recover.Hera couldn’t even bear to visit him in the medwing, that is until Elani said those magical words. “Nothing can stop us Hera nothing , and you shouldn’t let anything keep you from your family.Your father needs you right now.” And suddenly she was little Hera again.Little Hera who was afraid.Who missed her loving mother and father and her eyes starting to mist and as she broke into a sob and fell into her jedi’s arms.

“Shh.” He rubbed her back softly.

“Today w-was the anniversary of my moms death!It was the day everything went wrong! And my father.I keep getting news of Ryloth! My people are enslaved and the war takes more and more from us! And Im watching my father spiral and I can’t go back-I don’t want to but ugh!” She shouts with angry tears,she starts tugging at her montrails.Kanan squeezes her tighter.

“Hera I don’t know what to say.” He rubs her back again quietly.

“This was the one day where we could patch things up.The anniversary of her death.We argued but we came together and thats all gone.I miss my mother.I miss my father.” Her Twi’lek accent was peaking.

“Hera we will get through this.” He responded now with a smile.

“Sometimes Im not so sure.” She responds with a grim chuckle.

“You taught me the power hope when I forgot it.When I was trapped in the drunk darkness, and because I feel it.

“In the force?” Hera asked.

“In you.” He said kissing her forehead gently.

Thank you guys so much for the support it gave me so much motivation to continue writing and slowly I will reveal more of the backstory.🥰.Don’t worry my OC backstory is plenty tragic and if anyone hasn’t seen it yet check it out in still tweaking it and looking for feedback.I decided to do something a little but different since Kanera is the current winner and I lack patience. (There is some Rebel Captain art in the works.) anyway I wrote this myself and I hope you like it.

[dickarchivist]

Hiya! Can I make a Grave Squad fic request with a couple of prompts from the prompts list by @novelbear? It doesn't matter which clone is doing what for the first prompt (it's a first kiss prompt, but it could be anything--Phantom getting a massage, blaster lesson with Specter, medic patching up Wraith, whatever), and even though we know who would probably be taking the picture in the second prompt, that could be anyone too!

-feeling each other instantly relax as they both get instantly comfortable

-their hearts stopping when they hear smeone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act) ----------

https://www.tumblr.com/novelbear/730298854132629504/no-time-will-be-better-prompts-for-that-first?source=share&ref=_tumblr

Dream Walking

Clone oc Wraith x gn!Reader (civilian, implied force sensitive)

Word Count: 2613

Prompt: First Kiss prompts: feeling each other instantly relax as they both get instantly comfortable

Rating: T, nothing naughty but it's a got angst, Minors dni as always 🔞

Contents and Warnings: injuries (nothing super graphic) coming back from a mission, hurt/comfort and fussing, cuties bein cute

Summary: Wraith won't wake up after an attack by Separatists on a relief mission. Not one to give up on his boys, Jedi General Dax'Malkin Valka sends you in to see what’s keeping Wraith from waking.

Author's Notes: Wraith is such a nervous lil guy, always wants to do good by everyone else, he's never going to notice when someone takes interest in him romantically unless they spell it out for him. Then he'll check their spelling.

Thank you @eclec-tech for this prompt, and for waiting so patiently!! I hope you enjoy it ♡♡♡

"Ah- Athena, did you have a nightmare? Come on vod'ika, you can sleep here with me."

"SPECTER DO NOT- THAT'S YOUR PAINT CUP!!"

*Banshee you're going to catch a cold, put your shirt back on.*

"Ghost, we're all eating. Sit down, eat with us."

"Phantom I'm not giving you a plaster for your cheek. No I don't care that you were slapped, you probably deserved it... ugh, do you want regular medtape or one of Athena's flower patches?"

"General Valka, if you keep sleeping in the pilot chair, you'll ruin your back. At least let up put up a hammock for you."

You've been around the 404th long enough to know that Wraith is essentially their mother. He frets and worries about them more than you've seen any other clone do. And soo self sacrificing, working those long hours even when he doesn't have to, or specifically told not to. You'd been volunteering time with the GAR as nurse assistant, not knowing how to truly patch someone up, but enough know how to stabilize someone until a real medic got there.

You'd been stationed with the 404th on a relief mission to help provide support to a small moon that had been caught in the crossfire of a nasty battle. The Republic had come out victorious this time, but the citizens had seen better days. As you walked through the relief tent, checking on sleeping soldiers and locals, you catch a glimpse of the familiar spiked back of General Dax'Malkin. As you make your way over to the General, your chest starts to tighten with anxiety at the sight of the helmet beside him.

Pristine white, lovingly painted with a single stripe of flowers. Wraith.

You were used to seeing his brothers in the medbay, but not him. Not in a bed like this. Wraith was brought in by his general, the Zebrak hadn't left his side at all since getting there despite both of them looking battle worn. Dax'Malkin had his share of injuries, but nothing as bad as Wraith.

Your throat is dry, hands shaking as you kneel down and check the bandages that covered the stump of his knee. He'll be needing a prosthetic, and if it were any other battalion you'd worry about them simply throwing him away, but you're comforted knowing that General Valka wouldn't let them do that. He'd get Wraith the care he needs.

You hear Dax'Malkin grunt, his eyes finally focusing on you, "He's stable, should have awoken by now."

"And his brothers?" You finally choke out. You can tell with proper care, Wraith will recover, but you don't see the rest of Grave, and know that Wraith wouldn't survive losing them.

"Safe. Alive. Helping others," The jedi growls, holding his side, with a wince. He chuckles at the pain in his ribs, blue eyes dancing in the low lights strung about the med tent. They look hungry, angry. A dance of violence, "The Separatists got lucky this time. The others weren't at the initial blast, Wraith wasn't as fortunate. "

Your heart sinks into your stomach, "Why... why is Wraith not waking up?"

"That's what I need you to figure out."

Before you can question any further, Dax's hand shoots out and touches to your forehead. The next thing you know, you're in an impossibly vast ocean. You're standing on a rain soaked tarmac, waves crashing on all sides, but amidst the storm, you hear splashing footsteps and laughing.

Five little boys run passed you, and at first you don't recognize them, but then you hear one speak, "Guys! You'll slip if you're not careful! Please, let's go back, at least to put some shoes on!"

Wraith. He's so little, smaller than the others. Missing a tooth, bandaid over his nose. He sniffles, tears welling in his big eyes, "Don't get hurt, please!"

The leader, Ghost, you think, stops running and turns around, "1789! Come on, we have to get back before Nal Tsuba figures out we aren't in our bunks! You have to hurry!"

"Yeah, come on 1789! Hurry up, we don't-" the blond with the scowl, Specter you think, slips just like little Wraith predicted. You run forward to try and catch him, but he slips through your form, falling toward the churning sea below. "1313!!"

Little Ghost freezes, watching his brother fall. Before the others can move, Wraith does. He dives in after Specter without a second thought, launching his tiny frame over the rails to catch Specter. You hold your breath, close you eyes, and wait for a splash... but it never comes. Your eyes peek open, and then you see it, his little foot between the bars of the rail. "1666! 1404! 1313! A little help!?"

The three others finally snap out of their shock, pulling the other two up. Young Specter is clinging to Wraith as they're pulled up, big scared eyes as his fists are balled in Wraith's cadet uniform. Wraith hasn't set his foot down yet, supporting himself and Specter on one foot. You know the look of it, and can tell his ankle is broken from here, yet the smallest clone there still keeps soothing his rattled but otherwise unharmed brother.

Once they're all on the right side of the rail, Wraith smacks each of their shoulders hard, including Specter once he's calmed enough to let go. Wraith throws a tiny tantrum, hopping on one foot, his tears invisible in the rain but not his voice, "Jerks! Do you have any idea how stupid this is!? 1551 nearly DIED!! Why are we even out here, why'd we sneak away!?"

The four boys around him are quiet, before crowding him in a group hug, holding his shaking frame. The one with shaggy hair, you think this one's Phantom, sets his head on Wraith's "We wanted you to see the green flash... you never sneak out with us, and last time we did, we saw it. 1666 said it looked like your eye, we thought you'd like it."

The biggest, another blond, he signs, and you know right away this one's Banshee. His hands are too obscured for you to see, but Wraith nods at him, and Banshee turns around in front of him, then crouches.

"I broke my ankle saving Specter..." you jump, giving a small yip, and the Wraith you know is beside you, chuckling, his eyes sad as he watches the small boys tut along in the downpour, "We didn't even see the flash they were talking about, I've never seen it. Nal Tsuba was waiting for us when we got back inside, she was so angry..."

The dream turns, and you're in the painted walls of The Crypt. It's empty in there, save for you and Wraith. He moves silently toward his little bunk, a bottom bunk, right across from the one you know is Athena's. He lays down in the soft bed, quiet, before looking over at you, "So, how long's left?"

"How long for what?"

"Of my life. I'm hurt, I know that much. General Valka was trying to help me when I lost consciousness, my mind's been treating me to the tragedy that is my worried existence, and now you're here. My biggest regret." He smiles so lovingly when he says that, and for just a second, you want to slap him so hard he wakes, just so you can slap him again.

"I never told you how I feel. So many times, stars, I couldn't even touch your hand without jumping away. You and your endless patience with me, I must have been so annoying... you always smiled at me, accommodated my nerves, relaxed me like no one else could, not even my brothers..." He lays back with a sigh, that awful self loathing smile on his face, "Now I'll never get to tell you."

"Stop talking like that," you move forward, careful not to spook him, and get town on your knees beside his bunk. You yip again when he grabs you, pulling you into the close quarters with him. He'd never be that bold if he were awake, "Wraith-"

"The name fits, doesn't it? Wraith, an insubstantial person."

"Stop it..."

"Do you think, if I'd told you, we could have been happy together?-"

"Wraith-"

"Of course if you answer, it's just my dying brain telling me what I want to hear, so-"

"Knock it off!"

"It'll probably tell me the truth, actually, that it would have done nothing, because you don't feel the same wa-"

You slap him. His mix matched eyes look up at you in shock, blush joining the red mark on his cheek. "How did that hurt..."

"Because I'm here you dummy!" You sit up on his lap, your hands balled up in his blacks against his chest, "General Valka grabbed my face and put me in wherever you are! Now wake up! Right now Wraith!"

Wraith squirms under you, much like he has every other time you've so much as brushed your shoulder on his by accident. His eyes prick with tears, "You're not- you can't be here, why are you here? Please be a figment. You don't know I said that stuff. Get out of my dying brain, I'm not taking you with me!"

You pin him down by the shoulders, then give him a small shake before your hands move to his face, "You're not dying, you're just stuck! Now by the force I swear, if you don't wake up I'm going to shave your head bald."

"But you like my hair!" Wraith's hands go protectively into the thick curls on his head, pushing them away from you, "Don't you dare!"

"Then wake up!"

You gasp loudly, falling onto the hospital floor. Your stomach does a flip, and you find yours looking up at General Valka's tired face. "Well?"

"It's... what... HOW!?"

"Dream walking. What's wrong with my boy?" Dax'Malkin offers you absolutely zero explanation, like every other jedi, but at least it wasn't cryptic, just vague.

Once you get your legs under you, it doesn't take long for your hands to find Wraith's face. You set your forehead to his, "He's just stuck... can you put me back in? I can't leave him like-- G-General Valka?"

When you hear the sound of a soft snore so close by, you turn to look at Dax'Malkin, and can't help but chuckle a little. He'd fallen asleep, his arms folded neatly, head back and mouth hanging open. You shake your head, then look back down to Wraith... his vitals were good, his wounds tended, why wasn't he waking up?

You take a deep breath and get into the cot with Wraith, your arms curling around him, your head on his chest. Breathing is normal, heartbeat steady, "What's got you trapped in that pretty head of yours, Wraith..."

You touch your forehead, thinking about how it felt when General Valka had done it. Warm, quiet, safe. You wiggle your way up a little, then press your foreheads together, taking a few deep breaths and focusing on Wraith.

You're back on The Crypt with Wraith, who's reliving is in another memory. Athena's sitting in his lap the two of them watching stars on the view deck. "Which one is that one vod'ika?"

"It's uh... we're above Lothal, so... Oh! The Twin Wolves!" Athena grins brightly, then points to another constellation, "That one, Ori'vod."

"Aaah... Trash Cat?" Wraith laughs with Athena, his eyes barely open as he watches Athena roll out of his lap and onto the floor with the force of her laughter, "I don't know! We- ha- we didn't have to learn the constellations passed navigation! None of the fun stuff like Buir Dax teaches you!"

"Fine, no more stars, teach me some more Mando'a. What's Buir?" Athens beams up at Wraith, who's blushing hard, "C'mon, is it a swear?"

"No!" Wraith laughs again, then gets down on the deck with Athena, looking up to the stars with her again, "No, it's not a swear... it's a title, a very important one. You know vod, yeah? Sibling. Ori'vod, big sibling. Vod'ika, little sibling," He kisses her head when he says the last one, "Buir is... parent."

"You guys call Master Dax... dad?"

There's a small pause, and you can see the apprehension in Wraith's body, the whole of him going stiff with a held breath before he lets it out, "We do. He... treats us like people. But it's more than that, he-" Wraith stops a second, wiping his eyes, "Buir Dax treats us like we matter."

Athena wraps Wraith in a full body hug, her arms around his chest and legs locked around his waist as she curls into his side. His arm going around her, as he covers his face with one hand. It's unspoken, but even just seeing it, you understand Athena is telling him they matter to her too.

"That was a few nights ago... she's so smart, you know? Always wants to learn something, always wants to help... you'll look after her for me, right?" You feel Wraith's hand in yours, as you turn your head the memory fades and you're left with him. Now's Wraith. "I know you're just a figment, but could you promise me anyway?"

"No. Wraith, you're alive, okay? I know you are, because I checked your vitals. You don't have that leg," you nudge his foot with yours, "But you're alive... General Valka made sure of that. So just... wake up. Please? Wake up for her, for him, for your brothers, just--wake up!"

He chuckles a little, his shoulders drooping, "If I don't have a leg, I'll just slow them down... they'll decommission me, likely. Why wake up when I could stay here with you?"

"Because I'm out there, and so are you! Because I won't let them take you away from me! Because I love you, you- you- ugh! I love you, you nervous wreck of a man! Now wake the hell up!" You push him a little, your fingers locking up around his scrubs as you haul him back to cling to him.

As tears spill over, you bury your face into his neck, "Please... I need you to wake up."

You feel his hands on your back, warm and solid, and when you open your eyes, you're in the med tent, General Valka still snoring. But not Wraith.

He looks into your eyes, his own mix matched wide and full of apprehension. "Is this still a d-" You don't let him finish.

You surge forward, kissing him hard, teeth knocking together a moment before you pull back a little and settle against his lips. He's stiff at first, but very soon you're melting into each other, his hands holding you to him.

"I mean it, you know. That I love you..."

"You did?" He smiles, eyes dreamy as he nuzzles into your embrace.

"I do, not did. I do mean it... and I'm not letting them decommission you." Your dreamy smiles only last a second before both of you tense.

"Oh, don't you worry Mesh'la, we aren't letting them decomm Ray either." As you turn your heads, you see Phantom, Banshee, Specter, Ghost, and Athena coming through the tent flap, "That was some kiss~"

"Tommy! Shut up!" Wraith squirms, trying to shield you, as if Phantom were a threat.

As the brothers laugh and crowd, happy to see Wraith awake, Athena kneels down beside you. She takes your and in both of hers, smiling softly, "Thanks for getting my brother back."

You give her hands a soft squeeze, smiling right back at her, blush still painting your cheeks, "Thanks for sharing him."

_________________________________

Tag list!

@anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni

[jessicas-pi]

📙 📕 please?

OOOO ok since you sent two I'm gonna give you two AUs--a short one and a long one!

the short AU idea is one I call Hi, You've Reached The New Republic. How Can I Help You?

It's based on the premise that, at the end of TRoS, Ben doesn't die. He lives and joins the good guys! But he did a lot of bad stuff, so he's going to be punished. Originally he gets sentenced to death, but Rey is sad about that, and so Poe and Finn step in because Rey Cannot Be Sad. But, also, they understandably resent the bad stuff he did, and they're allowed to be a little petty, as a treat. So they suggest Ben be sentenced to a fate worse than death.

And by "fate worse than death," I mean customer service.

So now Ben works for the New New Republic, answering phones, and he has to deal with all the garbage that customer service workers get, and at this point, Rey's Not Mad Just Disappointed face is the only thing keeping him from turning evil again. Force Ghost Anakin Shenanakins optional.

the other AU I have in mind is a crossover based on Crooked House, which is an Agatha Christie novel! It's long so i'm putting it beneath a cut.

SO, when I read Crooked House, I got like half a chapter in and was absolutely OVERWHELMED by the sabezra vibes from the main couple. It's like, guy meets girl, guy is in love with girl, girl reciprocates, guy goes off to war for a few years, guy and girl are reunited. also, girl has an absolutely insane family where literally anyone could be a suspect in a murder.

ANYWAY i immediately came up with an AU, as one does. I call it Crooked Clan.

I haven't decided if I want this AU to be set in our world in the past, in the canon star wars universe, or in a star-warsy-yet-vintagey universe that is different from canon. I'm thinking the third option probably.

So, the idea is that Sabine's clan isn't ruled by her mother, but by her grandmother, who also owns the Darksaber. Sabine and Ezra are friends in this AU--which happens in a universe where Order 66 was never a thing--despite Ezra being a Jedi and Sabine being Mandalorian. They've known each other since their teenage years, like in canon, and they're very close.

When Sabine is about 22, her grandmother dies under mysterious circumstances, and Sabine asks Ezra to come help her. Ostensibly as moral support, but she actually suspects there was foul play. Ezra agrees immediately because he would do anything for her.

it becomes clear soon that there WAS foul play. The obvious suspect is Gar Saxon, Ursa's distant cousin, who invited himself into their home and is known to be ruthless with a dislike for the Wrens. And due to a technicality, he would become ruler of Clan Wren unless the previous Countess specifically left it to someone else. And the will Sabine's grandmother supposedly made is missing.

But, one-by-one, it becomes clear that everyone in Sabine's family is suspect.

As follows:

Ursa, Sabine's mother, who was supposed to inherit rulership of the clan

Alrich, Sabine's father, who would willingly do anything for his wife

Tristan, Sabine's brother, who was ruthlessly bullied by his grandmother and openly hated her

Eris (an OC), Sabine's aunt and Ursa's older sister, who was disinherited less than a month ago for her supposed "madness"

Bo-Katan, a family friend who turns out to have previously been associated with a terrorist organization known as Death Watch

and finally, Sabine herself becomes suspect, when her grandmother's will finally resurfaces, and she learns that the rulership of the clan--along with the Darksaber--was left to her.

I haven't worked out ALL the details yet, but I have a LOT of vibes in my head, and... yeah, that's the ramble! There may be more someday! But I make no guarantees!

Thank you for the ask!! :D

[writingsofestella]

vespera - ch. 0

Apostate!Din Djarin x Ex!Jedi!OC -(no use of Y/N Canon Divergent - some plot changed for sake of story, the razor crest lives )

tws // general canon violence, usage of blasters and weapons, mentions of death, minors DNI 18+ only, angst, mature content, more tags to be added later on

a/n: first chapter of the new story. posting this into the void and hoping someone likes it to read it. this story has been spiralling around in my brain for weeks now and i wanted to share it and get it out there. let me know what you all think, and i hope you like it.

wc: 2637

It was nice to see people celebrating. With all of the chaos in the galaxy, it was good to see celebrations of happiness, now and then. Children laughing and chasing each other, adults holding one another tightly, neighbors helping neighbors, excitedly talking and cheering.

The great stone water fountain in the middle of the small village hadn't been running for years. The marshal had seemingly had the only working fountain in the entire town in his home. Of course, he was a businessman first, and couldn't help but use that to his gain. Man had to make credits somehow, he claimed.

How ironic it was that after an anonymous tip, the people investigated the water lines that ran through the town, through the buildings, only to find that the pipes had been turned off and rerouted. The marshal, who had claimed to have his people's best interests at heart, had pled innocence.

It was also ironic how, overnight, he ghosted the town. By morning light, the great fountain in the center was bursting forth with fresh water from the underground spring. Other smaller fountains in the town were filled with water once again, restoring life to the dying town.

If someone were to be paying attention, they'd think it strange that all this seemingly happened within the few weeks after the stranger had arrived to their little town.

The hooded stranger paid them all no mind, as she stood in the shadow of an alleyway. She leaned against the cool stone wall, taking comfort in it.

The heat that bore down on the planet Utov from its' two suns was almost unbearable for her to handle, which might have been another reason the town's fountains were now back in order.

Maybe she just hated seeing old men in power.

It was all just coincidental, of course.

One of the townsfolk, a young mother with a kid on her hip, excitedly came up to her. She had a wide smile on her face, relief and joy evident on her once worn and tired features. "Fyra, isn't it amazing? We won't have to worry about water anymore!" 

Fyra smiled from under her scarf. "It is. What does the little one think?" She asked, looking from the mother to the child. 

"Oh, he's got all sorts of ideas in his head about who did it." The mother, who was named Siane, teased, lightly.��

The kid, a young boy no older than six, looked at Fyra with wide eyes and a toothy smile. "You did it, didn't you?" He loudly whispered. "They said it was a shadow in the night, that no one really saw who it was!" 

"Hush now! We don't want to be bothering our traveler with that." Siane lightly chastised, teasingly pinching the boy's ear.

He let out a whine in protest, squirming.

Fyra simply gave a tilt of her head, amused. "What a shadow that must've been then." She responded lightly, holding her fingers out and wiggling them playfully. 

The boy giggled, and reached his own little hand out for her to take. She squeezed his hand playfully, before letting it go. Fyra didn't miss the inquisitive look she received, however, from Siane.

"These kids and their imaginations." She sighed out, shaking her head, but there was a happy smile on her face. "We're going to Danthi's later to celebrate. Are you coming?" Siane asked, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't know. I might, might not." Fyra said, undecided yet. "You know I'm not one for large celebrations." She said.

Siane let out a snort, shaking her head. "Yeah, I can tell. You're over here sulking in the corner instead of coming out and celebrating with us."

"I'm not sulking, I'm in the shade." Fyra retorted, shaking her head.

Siane let out an exasperated sigh, and then shook her head. "Alright, alright. Well, if you wanna go, you know where we'll be at." She says, as her little boy starting squirming to be let down and go run around with the other children. "I'll see you later then." She said, and with a nod, was being dragged out to the crowd by her child.

Fyra let out a quiet huff, that smile still playing on her lips, as she shook her head. She slipped away from the main celebration, making her way down the alleyway. She might go get a drink later, maybe something refreshing since she felt parched already from the day.

As she walked around the corner, however, a sinking feeling filled her stomach, and the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood straight up. She held her breath as she slowed her steps.

Without warning, a vibrocord whip flew past her head and she swerved, just in time to avoid getting trapped in it.

The culprit of the vibrocord stepped around the corner as it whipped back to its owner. A Mandalorian, in worn, chipped armor, appeared in the shadows of the alleyway. The only thing new on him was his beskar helmet, which stared down at her, unrelenting. His fingers twitched over the blaster at his hip.

A bounty hunter.

All the way out here.

"That's a rude way to say hello." She found herself saying, body tense, ready to run.

"You're a hard woman to find." He spoke back, voice rough through the modulator in the helmet.

"Maybe that's the point."

He gave the slightest tilt of his head. "They told me not to bother speaking to you, just to bring you in." He spoke out, voice even, controlled. "But I'll offer you a deal. You can come with me peacefully, or, I can drag you, kicking and screaming."

"That's not much of a deal." She retorted back, her body tense with the adrenaline filling her to run once again. Her heart raced as she tried to will the Force to calm her, help her think rationally so she'd make it out of this alive.

"Murderers with a bounty of their head don't usually get deals at all." He retorted, taking a threatening, stalking step toward her.

She cursed internally. She thought she'd gotten far enough away to not have any bounty hunters follow her this far out.

She had thought wrong.

"How kind of you." She retorted, voice dry as she took a cautionary step backwards. "Too bad I'll have to decline your deal."

With a roll and a duck, she narrowly avoided the vibrocord whip that shot past her head. Without hesitation, she used that momentum to bolt forward. 

Right Into the busy marketplace. 

She didn't hesitate. Ducking and weaving in between people, she ignored the yells of profanity as she pushed through. She could hear his footsteps, heavy and powerful, chasing after her. The screams and yells of the people they pushed through.

She could only hope the people would slow him down enough for her to escape. She pushed herself further into the crowd, no longer pushing, blending in and moving with the crowd. 

Sharply, she turned into an alleyway, a small cantina set in the back. Making her way, briskly, past the couples lingering outside, she was quick to get inside. It took her a minute to blink, for her eyes to adjust, but she was still moving. She couldn't stop. Her heart raced, chest heaving, as she tried to keep the panic at bay.

The cantina wasn't busy, most crowds outside still in the marketplace, celebrating. There were a few people she knew inside, people she had helped, setting up for the party.

Her eyes landed on the bartender, who was hanging something up. 

Danthi, with her greying hair pulled back into a tight bun and a towel over her shoulder, immediately shot up to look at her. Her hazel eyes locked onto her.

Frya pulled down the cloth over her face. "Danthi-" She sucked in a panicked breath. 

"Oh Fyra! What's got you so panicked, you look like you've seen a ghost!" She immediately gushed out, coming down off of the ladder to her side.

"There's a Mandalorian after me." She said, trying to reign in her fear. "I don't know how he found me but-"

Danthi gently grasped her arms, standing in front of her. "Calm down, breathe." She said, voice soothing. She started to lead her behind the bar. "Hey, you two!" She yelled at the two sitting near the door. "Whoever distracts the Mandalorian gets free drinks for the next month." She barked out.

The two aliens grinned. Downed their drinks. They cracked their necks, then walked outside, casually, as if not going up to face a Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Danthi turned back to her. "We knew this would eventually happen, right?" She said, continuing to lead her around the bar. Pushing open the half door, she led her in. 

"Yes, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon- I just came back here not that long ago." She breathed out, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"There's a trapdoor leading to underground tunnels. Follow it, straight, 'till it dead-ends. You'll find a transport droid that'll take you to a port." She ducked under the bar, grabbing a canvas bag, giving it to her. "Take this and run." 

Fyra was overwhelmed with emotion, with information. She tried to control it, letting the Force in to try and let it wash over her again. "But what if he comes in here?" 

She gave a shrug, a grin growing on her face. "I'm not scared of any man, let alone a Mandalorian." She tucked Fyra's scarf better atop her head. "You need to go. Let this be your payment for helping us." She said. "Let us help you, just this once." 

"Danthi-" 

She pulled Fyra into a tight, quick hug, before pulling back. She pulled out the key from under the collar of her shirt, unlocking the trapdoor.

It looked dark, dimly lit. Like a dungeon or a tomb for the dead, dust and dirt spewing out down below.

Looking back up to Danthi, she gave one more look. "Thank you." She breathed out. 

"Go. May the Force be with you." She smiled, giving one last squeeze of Fyra's arms. 

They could hear yelling outside. An argument. She could sense the rising danger just outside the cantina doors.

"Come on, Mando! Don't you ever take a day off and drink?!" 

"You think there's a living bein' under that armor or do you think he is the armor?"

The two women locked eyes again, and Danthi all but pushed her down the trapdoor. 

She landed on her feet, half stumbling, with a cloud of dust, dirt, and sand shooting up around her. Jerking her head back up, she got one last look at Danthi's confident, grinning face, before it was sealed back up.

And she was left in complete darkness.

Swallowing thickly, she took in a steadying breath. Letting it out, she reached to her side for the silver-hilted weapon she kept at her side. Her fingers ran over the worn but familiar buttons, but she did not ignite it. Instead, she reached for the flashlight she kept on her belt.

Yellow flickering light ignited in the tunnel as the flashlight came to life. It casted shadows against the walls, down the endless tunnels. Little creatures of the darkness slithered back into it, hissing and clicking noises following as they disappeared back into their darkness.

Ignoring the shiver that ran up her spine, she slid her scarf back over her face. She started walking down the tunnel, heading straight and true as Danthi told her. She tried to keep her memories in check. She was not being left behind in a tomb. She was not being abandoned by her Master. 

There was, however, someone hunting her down once more.

She could sense danger up above her and she had no doubt that it was the Mandalorian. Quickening her steps, she continued down the tunnel, trying to keep herself calm and grounded. She had to keep moving, had to keep going. 

Reaching the end of the tunnel, she heard a noise that made her heart drop to her stomach. It was the sound of flame, and then, metal melting. 

She turned off the light, sliding it back onto her holster, swift. Jumping up onto the ladder, she could hear the metal trapdoor being melted, falling away and crashing to the ground. She pushed away any and all thoughts about Danti being hurt. She couldn't. She couldn't let herself slow or let Danthi's efforts go in vain to get her out safe.

She was fine. She had to be.

Rapidly, she climbed up the ladder, using her shoulder to try and open it. "Dank ferrik!" She hissed out when it didn't budge. With a lift of her hand, she swiped it across the lock. 

A click resounded and it flung open. 

She pulled herself up and out, finding herself in another alleyway, on the outskirts of town. Heaving for air as she pulled herself up, she saw the transport droids with the sandships, hovering and waiting. 

Shoving the trapdoor back, with a loud, resounding SLAM and another flick of her wrist, it locked behind her, sealing it shut. She bolted toward the ship, not caring if anyone was out to see her frantic movements. 

She slid to a stop in front of the sandship, wide eyes, heaving chest, looking at the R2 droid in the ship.

"I need to get to the port. Now." She commanded.

It beeped in response. A question of where she wanted to go.

"Doesn't matter. Closest one. One that can get me off-planet." She retorted, hopping into the sandship, tying the bag Danthi had given her around her back and under her shoulder. 

Within seconds, she was taking off, zooming across the dry, hot desert. She felt the blaster before she heard it, the heat flying past her ear.

She gasped, ducking down immediately, head shooting back to look behind them. 

The Mandalorian had made it out, standing with a blaster in hand. A shiver raced down her spine as their gazes locked. 

He fired again, and she did not hesitate to use the Force to project an invisible shield around them. 

The droid screamed in fear and the ship dipped to the side, swerving. She slammed into the side of the ship with a forceful exhale.

She sucked in a fast breath, pain in her ribs. "It's alright!" She yelled to the little droid, breathless from the impact. "I got you, keep going!" 

The droid sped along, and she used the Force to protect them from any other blaster shots, seemingly redirecting them as they flew past them.

The Mandalorian's form, shining and reflecting the dying suns' light, stared her down, slowly lowering the blaster as he grew smaller and smaller behind her. 

She knew, without a doubt, he was not giving up. Mandalorians, as they were, never gave up, never stopped, until they were dying. This would not be the last time she saw him. She only hoped she was far enough way when she did that she could escape him again.

With the rising stars and moon above, she could only hope to the Force that she'd have the strength to keep one step ahead. That the universe would guide her where she needed to go.

As he disappeared with the town growing steadily smaller and smaller, she let the town, and its' people, go from her heart. She would hold their kindness in her chest, but she knew she probably would never be able to come back again.

The life of a Jedi in this galaxy would never be safe.

all writing is my own. please do not redistribute, repost, or share on other platforms. thank you

[stbrutus]

full (extremely over rendered) reference of my jedi oc Aza !!! admittedly i don't have a lot of lore about him that makes sense without context, but here's a rundown of what i've written so far:

Aza is Kehlu's first and only fully trained padawan (she's shown in this post, i've also been working on a reference sheet for her).

after her death, he reluctantly takes on her second padawan, Caracalla, as an apprentice--Caracalla is already halfway through his training, and Aza is convinced by the council that it will be a comparably low-effort responsibility that he should feel obligated to take up.

however! behind closed doors he resents Caracalla, and blames him for Kehlu's death. he was very close with her, and viewed as mother (they were extremely attached to each other since day she collected him for the order, it was not a loss he could properly jedi his way through).

as a result, his and Caracalla's relationship as master and apprentice is completely nonviable from the beginning, and their relationship is so fractured that they never develop any sort of force bond. when Caracalla disappears under murky circumstances only two or three years into their training, it reflects terribly on Aza. not only does their now visibly awful dynamic kind of make it look like a murder, the council is actually shocked that he can't sense if his apprentice is dead or not (really bad look all around tbh).

although he is never excommunicated (or fired or... let go???) outright, he goes into self-imposed exile, promising to return when he found Caracalla (neither him or the council are sure of the possibility, but he'd rather wander forever than live with the shame).

over time, he becomes less "embarrassed" by the terms on which he left the order and starts to feel genuine guilt; and his fervent meditation over caracalla's belongings opens up what may or may not be a posthumous bond with his former apprentice. :p

[nerteragranadensis]

the Obi-Wan Kenobi show should have been a True Grit pastiche. straight up. none of this planet-hopping galaxy-in-the-balance nonsense. no showdown with Vader years before ANH. young Leia was cute but we didn't need her either. this show should've been grieving depressed burnt out hopeless Ben Kenobi gets hired against his will to help a 13 year old girl avenge her father. or mother, or parent. you can star wars-ify it if you want. but give me Kenobi on a revenge quest asking whether Jedi teachings have anything left to offer the world. and at the same time asking how he could possibly give them up. let him be a reluctant mentor to this random kid from Tattooine. the parallels to Anakin and Ahsoka write themselves. we can keep the Inquisitor stuff, but let Revah be the main antagonist. let her represent the opposing viewpoint, the idea that vengeance is fulfilling and worthwhile. that it will make you whole. maybe they kill the guy at the end. maybe they don't. maybe Rut'i (13 year old girl OC, do not steal) kills the guy or maybe Revah does or maybe Obi-Wan does. the important part is at the end they go their separate ways and Obi-Wan never sees her again. and he has to keep living with himself. he has to keep living.