#that’s right people grey jedi don’t exist

[foundfamilynonsense]

If you think a deep story needs to have both sides be wrong you don’t know what deep is.

There can be an absolute right and an absolute wrong.

No it doesn’t have to be a kids show.

There can be an absolute right and an absolute wrong because there are absolute rights and absolute wrongs in real life.

Those situations usually have body counts but they exist.

And we should be able to write stories about them without idiots on the internet saying they’re not deep or unrealistically because “both sides have flaws”

[ohheyitsokay]

Hi lovely Elle! Congratulations on your milestone, my friend! I’m so excited for you; your writing is always absolutely immaculate and makes my heart sing, and your compassion and integrity shine through every single thing you produce. I can’t wait to see what you create next! For the celebration, may I please request something with my favourite, Rex? For the soulmate AU, I’d be happy with whichever one you feel works best (I don’t know very much about them sorry 🙈) thank you my love and congrats again! x

hello my dear! such high praise, especially from someone as lovely and talented as you! I definitely used this as an excuse to watch videos of Rex being... Rex, since I havent written him before 😌 and obviously now I'm swooning so

I hope you enjoy!

warnings: cannon-typical angst / violence, yearning, fluff, elle writing yet another new character

<<

soulmate requests / follower celebration

>>

Clones did get to see colors. Not really, anyway, just the muted, modulated ones their buckets provided - not the ones that brought grown men to their knees.

The ones that made elation run through a person's veins and completion paint the world in light.

The soulmate colors.

Clones didnt get to see them, because clones weren't supposed have soulmates. Why would they? Their very existence was specifically curated not to encourage them to find themselves, not to go on adventures, or develop dreams, and certainly not to fall in love.

Still, when he stood at the corner of the mess hall, and watched his brothers quarrel and laugh, with their uncontrollable hair and skin spattered with scars, Rex wondered.

Because the more time he spent, the more he saw new painted patterns and heard annoying inside jokes, the more he thought somewhere in all those calculations, they got it wrong. They were individuals, they went on adventures, and had different dreams.

So, like scuffs collecting on shiny plastoid armor, a new determination scratched a mark somewhere deep inside him. If his brothers could be and do all that they already had? Love, even, was not quite so unrealistic.

He didnt talk about colors much - none of them did, and he of all people rarely had the time. But he thought about them more than he should, ached for them during quiet nights alone in his bunk.

The feeling was frusterating, something unreasonable to share, impossible to explain, so as time flew on, he learned to bury it. It felt like a lifetime ago when he learned to guard his mind and control his thoughts around his jedi generals. Still, there was a time when he - his friend and jedi - had been distracted, gazing into his certain someone's eyes, that Rex had watched. And just for a moment, his mind had slipped.

Another scratch in his chest, wanting - wanting - what? Just someone to look at, to really see, and... someone who would see him, too. That's all he wanted. It was a selfish thought, hot and fierce, seering his careful facade, branding another scuff before he could shake it away.

-

When he first saw you, even through his aging helmet, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You were walking, talking to someone, not relevant to his mission, but important and he wanted to walk after you, to be the one you were talking to, but... then you were gone.

Someone else asked who you were and he felt suddenly possessive, a strange feeling immediately followed by confusion. It was an illogical response, by all accounts, you had never even met before.

And then someone else answered - a trusted friend of Senator Amidala's, and he felt relief, that he hadn't been forced to choose looking foolish by asking or the much worse option: not knowing.

And it was another illogical response.

Weeks went by, stealing glimpses of you floating through the hall, and pondering his responses in his meager free time. Was there a reason he wanted to smooth the line between your brows? Or have his arm be the one you tucked your hands into as you climbed the stairs in your heavy robes?

There shouldnt have been. But when you appeared in front of him, your lovely eyes wide and thoughtful, here shouldnt have been a reason his brain short circuited, either. But it did - images of you appeared before him: you kissing his cheek lashes fluttering as you made him promise to stay alive, your head against his chest plate as your breaths thickened with peace and his own were full of pride. You, gasping his name as your hands grasped desperately against his skin, holding onto him as he took you for his and his alone.

Rex had never been quite so dysfunctional in his entire life. But before he could collect himself, you ducked your head and ran.

-

There were conversations Rex had never indulged before, at the bar, or between his brothers whenever they had a moment. Conversations about love and colors and... soulmates. And it had seemed selfish to listen, selfish to participate, like it would only add to his ache, and steal from his duty. Until you.

Each time he turned to see you watching him, before your eyes would widen guiltily and you'd turn your head in embarrassment, his resolve slipped away. He was already indulging, by stealing his own glances at you, and through the intentness at which he listened beyond your educated opinions for your laugh.

And when you tripped, walking quickly through a corridor opposite of him, and grabbed his arm, holding him like he could keep you steady, it snapped.

Then those conversations became like water - they were everywhere and he craved them like he needed it to survive.

"What, really?" As always, he tried to seem only politely interested.

"Honest, we only talk for a bit -"

"And admittedly he'd been drinking, but -"

"Yeah, they seemed in love. Way more than just fucking, he was acting stupid and happy."

"It was nice, you know? A vod looking like a normal dude -"

"- kept kissing and -"

" - talking about colors - "

Rex nodded and slipped away.

After long missions, his muscles would ache with scrapes and bruises, but he always told the shinies it prepared himself for the next one. He was done collecting aches - he wanted it. Soulmates or not, he wanted you.

-

The opportunity came sooner than expected, in long moments after a meeting had dissolved sooner than expected.

The two of you were left alone looking over a projection, and the convenience spurred his bravery.

"You do well, with all those idiots." Brave, certainly, but smooth? Not as much. You looked surprised and pleased at his praise, and pride shot through him.

"Thank you, I..." You glanced at him, and he watched your eyes trace over his marks, along the lines of his armor and then into his visor. Hands fiddling with a little dark grey pendant around your neck, you seemed like you were building courage.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you."

His head tilted. You had been avoiding... him? Him, specifically? Maybe Rex shouldve felt upset, but the definitive proof that you knew who he was, lit his whole body on fire.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"You're so admirable! And capable and," you turned away, shoulders raising a bit as you confessed - "and there's something about you that's just..."

He'd never wanted someone to finish a sentence more. It seemed impossible how much he ached for you, how right you seemed for him, how it seemed like maybe you agreed, but he had defied a world of impossibilities.

"I didnt want to seem too eager," your voice was but a whisper. Hope fueled his heat, filling his armor until it felt too much to bear.

Pulling off his helmet, Rex reached for you, saying, "You couldn't -" before his words cut off.

You looking him face to face and his whole world changed in a single moment.

"- Mesh'la."

The pendant was... a color that matched the way rain felt, and the paint on his armour, brighter than he'd thought. You were his.

And you were wearing it, looking like a dream, staring at him like you'd never seen a man like him before. And... you hadnt.

As he grabbed your hands, and your fingers fit inbetween his own, Rex knew you hadn't. Because he as in color, and he was yours.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

What if the clones changed places with diferent battalions because of The Force shenanigans for one week?

501:

Rex: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, he proceeds to have almos two heart attacks per day with Hardcase causing his usual caos, when he is not trying to prevent Harcase from painting Mace Windu’s robes blue he is chating with Ponds and taking any moment to try a recover their lost time and of course bitch about their Generals (I headcanon that Mace is just as much of a disasters as other Jedis, the diference is that he can hide it.)

Dogma: He gets sent to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Dogma is almost shocked to death by how Plo Koon treats him and the other clones that where sent to his battalion, Plo Koon helps him understand that following orders without thinking about them is not the best thing to do, he surprisingly gets along with Comet and alongside with the CG commanders is babied and almost adopted by Plo Koon, when he learned about what the CG go trough he finally learned that people need to earn your loyallty and has sworn to do anything to help his brothers, no matter where they are from.

Tup: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, Tup sticks t Fives even more than before since they are in a unkown place for him, he also  tries to keep Fives from causing any more trouble and animosity between the CG and the 501th battalion than there already is, being court martialed because of painting Commander Cody’s armor pink, and of course half of the CG want to keep him when they see the cinamon roll that he is and how tired he ends because of Fives.

Fives: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, he is constantly stoped by Tup from doing almost anything fun, he gets along with Hound like there is no tomorrow, probably since Grizzer loves Fives and Fives isn’t scared of him, whne Fives is with Tup he has to basically prevent him form being kidnaped by half of the CG. “He Tup where are you going? Oh, I’m going to see what Spot wanted to show me earlier today.(Fives notices the badly hidden ropes of Spot) No your not(Fives picks Tup like a sack of potaoes) Fives what the kriff!, Tup is MY VOD and you can’t keep him!!!(Fives yells while being chased by Spot and other troopers)”

Echo: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, Echo isn’t that out of it in the 212th battalion since he and Fives where deployed with them a few times already, but he is going to lose it if he has to prevent someone being murdered by Sinker because they mocked his battallions name one more time or howled when he walked in. He has also learned that no matter where he goes a brother will take Five’s place and in this case Thorn is that brother.

Hardcase: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, Hardcase decides to see how fast he can cause Rex to grow grey hairs and Ponds is a plus, especially since this is Mace Windu’s battalion, although poor Rex and Ponds have no idea that Mace is on it. “Hey Hardcase, whats that you’ve got?(Rex asks seing the suspicious bag Hardcase is carying) Coffe grains!!(Hardcase answeres befoere runnig of while munching some of them) Nooo!!!(Rex remembering what happened last time Hardcase had one caf runs after him, willing to stun him and ignoring the rest of the men in the room laughing.) (In the mean time Mace is hiding his amused laugh after he gave Harcase the coffe grains.)”

212:

Cody: He gets sent to the Coruscant Guard, Cody takes the time he has and sleeps like he has never slept before, at the start he helped Fives to keep the CG from stealing Tup, since he knows how it feels that the CG is trying to steal one of his shiny vod, after Fives tried to paint his armor pink, he stoped and decided to enjoy Five’s suffering.

Longshot: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, Longshot and Jesse are Kix’s new nightmare, since they also decided that making Wolfee’s comn to howl like a wolf.

Boil: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Boil wonders if the universe entertaines itself with his suffering, because from all the vod he had to love it had to be Waxer and from all the existing battalions they could magically apear on it was Plo “I adopt any living creature that barely breathes in my direction” Koon, although he isn’t as against at the idea of finding Numa as he says he is, and Waxer knows it. He was one of the troopers that helpes Stone in making Fox rest, it’s the least he can do after he learned what they go trough.

Waxer: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Waxer and Plo get along to a scary level, multiple troopers have to restrain him phisically and distracting Plo long enough that they can’t go in a journey across the galaxy in search for Numa. He also discovered what the CG go trough and felt ashamed of what he thought of hi brothers before, he alongside Boil have decided to spread this information, to at least make sure that their brothers have more support.

104 Wolfpack:

Wolfee: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, Wolfee thanks the universe for assigning him to General Plo “Coff Coff Buir”, instead of the walking disaster that Skywalker is and at the same time begs the universe for patience in order to prevent himself from murdering any other Vod that makes his comn howl or any joke about wolf in his presence, even if it’s Commander Ashoka or how General Buir calls her “Little Soka”.

Boost: He gets sent to the 187th battalion of Mace Windu, Boost is having the time of his life alongside Waxer and to his shock General Windu, by giving early grey hair to Captain Rex and Commander Ponds, this may seem cruel to some and even to him at the start, but when he learned that General Windu was doing this in order to boost the rest of his men morale after a really hard capaing he was sold, besides some humor never hurt anyone, right?

Sinker: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, General Kenobi is not a bad Jedi and by all means he thinks he enjoys the chats he has with the Jedi but may the universe have mercy on the next fool who makes a joke about his battalion’s name or howls while he enters the room, he doesn’t care about the consequences and fortunately Echo has prevented a lot of bloodshed caused by his hands, he hopes that when he’s back with the Wolfpack the ARC gets deployed with them more often, he likes him.

Coruscant Guard:

Fox: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, Fox apreciates the Jedi, since he ans his men don’t have on he had no idea what to expect and lets say that Skywalker didn’t give him high expectations and since he can’t do his paperwork he was cuddled to death by stone and by a few other brothers that learned of how they are treated in Coruscant. Plo has to be stoped by the Wolfpack who fake injuries in order to prevent the Jedi from storming the Senate, when he found out of how the CG are treated one didn’t need the force in order to feel the bloodlust in the man, and even if the Wolfpack shared this feeling they can’t let their Jedi be acused of treason..

Stone: He gets sen to the Wolfpack battalion of Plo Koon, he is thankfull to any force in the universe for giving him this time to finally force Fox to sleep, since Thorn isn’t here it’s his duty to care for the di’kut he calls a vod and commander. He didn’t cry when the Wolfpack as a whole decided that the CG needed help, he really didn’t, it was just a bit of dirt in his eyes, but having brothers outside of the CG watching his back is conforting, and Fox won’t admit it but they have a soft spot for Dogma.

Thorn: He gets sent to the 212th battalion of Obi Wan Kenobi, he want’s to help Sinker with a bunch of his plans to make the 212th suffer except for Wooley, Wooley is nice, fortunately for the 212th Echo stops Sinker most of the time and the poor ARC looks so tired of it, so Thorn has decided to help him around, he remember one time Fox talked about the time he worked with the ARC and another one named Fives, Fox saud that Thorn where painfully similar and may or may not have admited to have liked working with him, “but you didn’t hear that form him alright Echo? Echo? Wait you recorded it, no stop Fox will murder me!! (Proceeds to run after a cackling Echo)”. 

Thire: He gets sent to the 501th battalion of Anakin Skywalker, he is not surprised at all when he see’s the daily disasters that happen on Torrent, and even if Commander Tano and General Skywalker are fun to be around, he can see where the battalion got the recklesnes from and he will feel no regret when Rex comes back and he is back on coruscant.

[azems-familiar]

Tell me about the corruption arc Bestie

oh bless you are going to get Such a textwall and i do not even care

what i am currently most emotions about is. how Revan's entire outlook shifts so gradually through the war that she doesn't even realize it's changing/changed! like, she gets to this point where she ends up literally not able to completely remember why she went to war in the first place - it was about revenge, wasn't it? wasn't it? hasn't it always been about- saving the galaxy and about destroying the Mandalorians and about winning?

and like! it hasn't! when she first went to war it was out of compassion, it was this determination that she would do the right thing when no one else would, because the galaxy was being BROKEN and no one was stepping up, and what are Jedi if not compassionate, and what are Jedi if they do not stand by the oaths they took when they were knighted? and like- yes, she was determined to win, but she was determined to win so that no one else would suffer the way the Cathar did, so that she could find justice for their deaths, and the line between justice and vengeance can be so blurred at times but there is such a clear difference at the same time and what Revan ended up doing at Malachor- it's the latter, not the former. violence begets violence begets violence and it's a cycle and in committing a genocide against the Mandalorians to make them pay for a genocide of the Cathar it's just perpetuating this cycle, and early Revan would've- seen that, or at least known it wasn't the right way to end this!

but she gets so caught up in her own legend that she loses all of it. like- how to put this into words in a way that isn't just exploring it through prose. she has the mask and it's originally the symbol of her promise, of her commitment, but it becomes this symbol for her and for her victory from the moment she wins her first battle with it, and the Jedi who follow her, who took her name as their cause, they already see her as their leader. and the Republic starts talking about her as a hero and tying this all to the mask, and it just keeps getting worse and worse as she wins more and more because she is being heralded as this savior and she was told from a young age that she was meant to save the galaxy and she'd never thought it was true, not really, but now- well, she starts to doubt. she starts to believe, maybe, that she really is meant to

and like. the sacrifices are such a huge part of this, i don't know if i can completely explain it. Cassus Fett is out here constantly pushing her to see how far she'll go, and the problem is, the strategies work. she uses people as pawns and it's this constant. sacrificing the few to save the many, and it works but it takes its toll on her. it gets her seeking out absolution from Alek and it gets her justifying it to herself as sacrifices are necessary in war because sometimes, sacrifices are necessary for the greater good and war, this war, is for the greater good, so it follows from there, and originally it's a justification but she comes to believe in it because her sacrifices are winning, not just battles but the war, and she's constantly being told by so many people that she is saving the galaxy and it all just- sinks in. and the mask becomes her in all the ways that matter, because she cannot stay human and cope with everything she's done, everything she's killed.

and also! she has to be right at all times. every decision she's made in this war, it has to be the right one, because if it isn't - if she was wrong - she made these choices for her pride and her pride alone, and she can't handle that. she has to be Right and the Mandalorians, especially Fett, have to be Wrong, and she can't see any shades of grey in this (despite Everything she does being this mess of grey) because she can't confront the fact that her own pride is what lets her really lean into this savior thing. she has to be better than the Mandalorians because if she's not-

if she really is the same as they are, then what was all of this for?

and like. she is angry, she is arrogant, she is proud, these are her flaws, her faults, and combined with this desperate need to prove herself that stems from how she was always regarded as too angry and too attached and too dark by a lot of the Jedi growing up, especially a couple certain masters who i will not name but would like to murder, it all just snowballs into this. she has to be the legend because she has to prove herself and also she needs to Win and she needs to be Better and she needs to do all of this and she physically cannot do it as a human. so she makes herself both more than and less than one. and more than this, like! there's this whole thing where. she cannot accept responsibility for her own role in all of this. she cannot lay the lives of everyone she's sacrificed for her victory on her own shoulders, otherwise she will break, because she is twenty-two years old when she goes to war and twenty-five when she gives the order to activate the Mass Shadow Generator and that same compassion that led her to go to war makes it impossible for her handle the Guilt of everything she's done.

so she turns. and she lays it all at Cassus Fett's feet. because he is the one who drives her into these sacrifices and he is the one who pushes her and he is the one who- on and on and on, she turns him into the villain and the scapegoat and like - yeah, the Mandalorians are at least half at fault for all this, but no one is forcing her into this. (except Vitiate, all of this has been Vitiate from the very beginning, and that's why it's all a tragedy because there were no right answers and at the same time Everyone was right and there was never any other way any of this could end - Revan will always go to war and Alek and the Exile will always follow and Malachor V will always burn) she makes Fett into the personification of all her guilt and she turns it all into anger and she declares that she will get revenge on him for everything he's made her do and so she kills her guilt in the dirt on Dxun, stabs Fett through the gut with his own spear and takes the breastplate off his still-living body to turn into her own armor as proof of her victory, and in his final moments he tells her that they are the same and she looks at him and says that is why you have to die because no one, no one can know that in the end, she Is just like them. that when pushed into a war, she fights for the thrill of battle, that she wants the victory more than she wants anything else, that she is no longer a Jedi and she isn't sure what to do with that.

Fett dies, and then Revan turns, with a golden beskar breastplate and a red sash added to her black robes, and she goes to Malachor V and she kills Mandalore and she shatters the Mandalorians into dust for all their crimes (for all her guilt) (for all her rage and bitter determination and the last dying shards of her compassion). a planet dies, the Mandalorians die, and a war is won and the Republic is saved but that isn't enough. it's not enough. she no longer knows how to be at peace, she has turned herself so successfully into the mask and the legend that without the war she does not know how to exist and so she- goes to find a new one, because the galaxy isn't ever going to be saved.

and the worst part of all of this is- there's this moment, this battle. the second battle of Althir. she's been making bigger and bigger sacrifices but she's never directly fired on her own people before, but this battle - it was all a trap, of sorts, and she is losing, and there is this moment in which she has to choose between a strategic retreat to save her fleet and her people, or a victory, or winning even though it means deliberately killing tens of thousands of her own people to do it. and it's sort of this point of no return for her when maybe things could be different - maybe she could turn back, maybe victory doesn't have to be all-important to her - and then they can't, and she can't, and it does. and she gives the order to kill off a third of the ships she has with her for that victory.

and she does not mourn it.

because sacrifices are necessary in war.

and in the end, living up to the legend she's made herself into - being it, completely and utterly - has become the most important thing to her, more important than saving lives.

and this - it's why she falls, in the end. she makes the conscious choice to become Sith (she was very much hovering on the edge of the Dark, but she wasn't completely fallen) after escaping from Vitiate, because the Jedi weren't strong enough to defeat the Mandalorians, and like - it's not the same, but also, yes it is. it all leads here. everything she has ever gone through leads to this moment, standing on Korriban, surrounded by dust as red as the blood that soaked it a millennium ago with the cold wind stretching her cloak out behind her, when she ignites her violet lightsaber and names herself Darth Revan.

(Revan, still, because her name is not a name, it has not been a name in years, her name is a title in the mouths of her Jedi and her soldiers and her enemies, Revan, Revan, save us, Revan, kill us, Revan, lead us to victory.

and she will.)

[vintageseawitch]

severus snape was not just a bully he was a literal racist and that did not change over the years unlike other characters' attitudes 🙏🙏🙏 what the fuck how are you pro-snape

hmmm. i feel there's an extremely back-handed compliment here. are you a lurker? are we mutuals? do i follow you or do you follow me? whatever the capacity, it feels silly to ask, but: are you new here? my bio, though novella in length because keeping things in a tiny, succinct packages is not my forte, clearly states at some point that Severus Snape is important enough to me to be mentioned a considerable amount. i'll be very sad if i follow you & enjoy the content you post because tbh this anon is super disappointing. the most common types i tend to receive are snaters who are too cowardly to tell me to my face they have nothing better to do than judge people doing the least harmful thing imaginable: loving/liking/appreciating a controversial, FICTIONAL FUCKING CHARACTER.

"he was a literal racist and that did not change over the years unlike the other characters' attitudes" ummm fucking WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. what canon evidence do you have for this except your own warped headcanons?? Snape said the word "mudblood" fucking ONCE, as a teenage boy, while getting sexually assaulted by more than one person, in public, with no one there attempting to stop them. then Snape's one friend tries to defend him & Snape snaps something stupid because he was afraid & pissed off & ashamed. don't tell me YOU'VE never said something you're later ashamed of while in a temper or feeling cornered. don't tell me YOU'RE not allowed to make mistakes. that's right, it was a mistake, & he realized immediately so he tried to fix it & in the end his friendship wasn't worth it to her so he was alone, surrounded by people who won't help him, who let some other teenage boys get away with attempted murder, & adults who don't give a shit about him making him ripe for plucking. Snape fucking CRINGES then yells at Phineas Nigellus for calling Hermione that while the trio's on the run & Snape is an unwilling headmaster!!! have you forgotten this???? if anyone is racist it's Molly Weasley for her treatment of Fleur which was never given a legit reason why she behaved the way she did. i don't even want to try to count how many times Draco Malfoy calls Hermione a mudblood; are you harassing people with hateful anons for liking Draco? is he somehow more deserving of a redemption than Severus? if you think that, go fuck yourself.

Severus Snape made a mistake when he was very young. he was alone, traumatized, full of bitterness & anger. he first came over to the side of the light for selfish reasons but then so did Regulus & Narcissa & i never see people attacking THEM. Snape made a mistake & worked to atone for this & for 17 years most take for granted he was the puppet for two megalomaniacal masters, neither of whom gave a damn about his life (Dumbledore was worse in SO many ways). in the end, it seems like snaters feel like no matter what you do, no matter what is in your heart & everything you do to try to make it right, your mistake will always define you & death is all you deserve soduspsjapxjosn FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK ANYONE WHO BELIEVES THIS.

"Severus Snape was not just a bully" yeah you're right he was also honorable, good-at-heart, brave as fuck, fucking brilliant, & while sharp-edged, was dryly hilarious. also, don't you get tired of this same fucking "argument"?? because Snape wasn't the only bully in canon. Molly Weasley is one. so is Dumbledore. so is Hermione. so is Draco, Crabbe, & Goyle. SO WERE THE MARAUDERS. Peter Pettigrew turned out to be one of the worst; do you ever anonymously bully anyone for liking them if they do? while not counting for taste, if anyone DOES like his character, IT'S NOT. MY FUCKING. BUSINESS. nobody is hurting me for liking that character. i am not hurting YOU for liking a character. it's just easier for you to pull this fucking performative, fake-woke, absolutely repulsive purity-culture enabling bullshit than to speak up about things that fucking ACTUALLY MATTER.

do you want to know some characters i like that are ACTUALLY disturbing/toxic/any negative thing you can think of?? i like Acton from the Doyle & Acton New Scotland Yard book series by Anne Cleeland & he is a LITERAL FUCKING STALKER who plays vigilante & takes advantage of his privilege to get away with his crimes lmao. i like Father Konstantin from the Winternight Trilogy even though (or maybe because of is more accurate) he's a younger, prettier, blonder Frollo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame with his behavior towards Vasya who is very much an Esmeralda parallel. it drew me in immediately, their dynamic in that trilogy; so poisonous & twisted & depraved was his obsession with her but it was so PASSIONATE i couldn't look away. i like Krennic from Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. if you've seen it, he's the smol, angry man who thinks seeing a planet with historical Jedi sites get destroyed by a previously unknown super weapon is BEAUTIFUL. he has no qualms against forcing someone against his will back to helping to build this weapon, even if it meant killing his family.

so there are just a few that i can think of at the moment who are considerably darker than mere shades of grey; do you send hateful anons to people who like Darth Vader? what about Sauron? Morgoth? what if someone likes VOLDEMORT?????? omg (spoiler alert: they exist, & some have created some of the best hp fanart i've seen, but that's not the point right now). do you attack people for liking other morally grey characters like Kylo Ren/Ben Solo or Lestat? snaters are pathetic. if you don't like Snape, that's perfectly fine; it would just be really cool if you can take your toxic, purity culture mentality & if unable to shove it up your ass at least go haunt the places dedicated to bland, rich white boy bully-loving spaces. go on with your horrid belief that all people who are enduring trauma are only allowed to process/handle it in a set way otherwise they are the Worst Person To Exist (or... not, in this instance, seeing as Severus Snape is a FICTIONAL. FUCKING. CHARACTER). do you not realize this says so much to people in your own life who may see some similarities between themselves & a character you believe makes you a superior entity for hating & judging?? do you not give people you care about another chance after making a mistake???

i'd rather continue loving this prickly, snarky asshole than attempt to "earn your good opinion" or some fucking similar codswallop thank you VERY much. cheerio & all that, & i hope you're able to find something to do you enjoy that doesn't involve judging people for things that really don't matter. if you have an issue with what i post you can always unfollow/block me. complicated controversial comfort characters make for better things to think about than fake wokeness. toodles~

[sirikenobi12]

Dear Mr. Filoni: About Qui-Gon Jinn

Mr. Filoni, I know you are pretty much the undisputed Padawan of George Lucas, but like many students they can sometimes misunderstand their teachings or interpret things from a certain point of view. While I won’t deny you are a brilliant creator who have brought us some amazing Star Wars content you said something a little while back about Qui-Gon Jinn that I think is rather nearsighted and in my opinion incorrect.

“And with the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin loses the father figure who truly could have understood him – and maybe prevented what was to come.”

This implies several things, the first is that Anakin never had a father figure in his life. Or, rather that he lost the father figure he truly needed. In many ways this is implying that if someone grows up without a father (or a traditional father figure) then they are missing out or won’t have a stable childhood. What about all the people who are raised by single mothers or grandparents or aunts/uncles or by their older siblings? 

Pixar’s Onward is a great example of finding a father figure through an older brother, it highlights that just because Ian never had a chance to meet his father didn’t mean that he lost out on a father figure in his brother Barley. 

“I never had a dad, but I always had you.”

Saying that Anakin lost the father figure who truly could have understood him also just spits in the face of a young man who also lost his father figure in that moment and gave up everything to raise Anakin. 

Let’s unpack that a little bit. Imagine if you will you’re twenty-five years old, you’ve worked your ENTIRE life for a particular goal which is to be a Jedi Knight, traveling the galaxy doing the most good that you can while discovering who you are on your own. Then maybe down the road when you are ready to settle down and possibly train/raise an apprentice you’ll take one on. Suddenly the only father you’ve ever known pushes you aside for a child he’s just met (without even discussing it with you first) and then uses his last words to push this child on you, making him your responsibility, thus shattering your chance at the freedom of a true Knighthood. 

By all rights Obi-Wan could’ve given Anakin’s training over to the Council, the boy was in no way his responsibility. Much like an adult sibling doesn’t have to take on the responsibility of raising their minor siblings if their parents die, they could give the children over to the state and have a chance at a normal young adulthood instead of being thrust into being a parent before they are ready. But, Obi-Wan didn’t do that because he A.) Respected/loved Qui-Gon too much not to fulfill his final wishes, and B.) Knew it would be better for Anakin to take the boy under his wing. 

I will say this until I am blue in the face: OBI-WAN WAS A FATHER TO ANAKIN!! 

In fact, in Episode 2 Anakin refers to him as a father/father figure multiple times and it is clear their relationship while Anakin was a Padawan was that of a Father/Son. It isn’t until Anakin is knighted and they are peers that you see their relationship shift to that of brothers.  

Am I saying that Obi-Wan didn’t make mistakes when raising Anakin? Absolutely not, but would I argue that Anakin was missing out on a father figure because Qui-Gon died? No, I would not. 

The second part of that quote claims that Qui-Gon Jinn could’ve been someone who understood Anakin and might’ve been able to prevent what was to come. I 100% believe that would not have happened, while I think Qui-Gon Jinn is a very interesting character there is no indication in either canon or legends that he would’ve been a good influence on Anakin. In fact, quite the opposite. Here are the top ten reasons Qui-Gon would’ve been a terrible father influence for Anakin: 

1. Qui-Gon Jinn thinks the rules don’t apply to him: While many fans applaud Qui-Gon (including apparently you, Mr. Filoni) for going against the Jedi Council and being a “Maverick” I would argue that more often than not it was to his or his mission’s detriment. This is not to advocate that the Council was 100% correct or that Jedi shouldn’t question things, but there is a difference between questioning authority figures and flat out being obstinate. This is something Anakin excels at even with being raised by the rule abiding Kenobi, imagine how bad it would’ve been had Jinn raised him.

2. Qui-Gon Jinn was selfish: There are several examples of Qui-Gon using the guise of “the will of the Force” in order to get his way. Are we honestly supposed to believe that somehow this one man was more in tune with the Force than any other Jedi (including 12 powerful Jedi who were on the Council)?? And, if he truly believed in following the will of the Force then why did he constantly bend the rules to make sure the “Force” went his way - an example of this is had he actually believed it was the will of the Force that he free Anakin, he wouldn’t have had to make the chance cube go the way he wanted it to go. He flat out cheated so he could get his way.  

3. Qui-Gon was dangerously reckless: Many Jedi are reckless, even Obi-Wan said to Yoda in ESB “so was I if you’ll remember”. But Qui-Gon was reckless in ways that was pretty astounding. For example, EVERYONE told him that his plan to get off of Tatooine was dangerous and frankly stupid. Couldn’t they have just sold the Naboo ship and then purchased a clunker that would get them to Coruscant? Honestly, that would’ve probably hidden them better from the Trade Federation in the long run...but no, he instead decided the best course of action was to put a slave child in mortal danger, thus also placing all of their lives in the hands of a boy who had NEVER won a race before. Now, it ended up working in his favor, but even still those few days spent fixing up Anakin’s pod and then the race itself delayed the Queen from getting to Coruscant which meant more people died on Naboo all because Qui-Gon refused to see any other solutions. 

4. Qui-Gon was often a bully: our Maverick had no problems throwing his weight around to get what he wanted. The Council meeting with Anakin is a perfect example, he didn’t get the answer he wanted. So he put his hands on his hips and refused to leave the room until the Council caved to his demands. Another example of this is in Claudia Grey’s Master & Apprentice where he refuses to do his duty as a Jedi and fulfill the mission simply because he had a vision. He doesn’t discuss this with the Council or with Obi-Wan beforehand, he just decides for himself this is how it’s going to be and then throws a hissy-fit when he doesn't get his way. Or how about he is the one who cheated to get his way in winning Anakin and when Watto calls him out he threatens to get the Hutts involved? He just bullies his way to getting what he wanted.

  5. Qui-Gon never saw the bigger picture: Master Jinn’s whole thing is to focus on the here and the now, and while that’s great advice (especially for Obi-Wan who often looks too far a head) it also means that Qui-Gon often misses the big picture. An example of this is in the book Master & Apprentice where he wants to free the slaves on Pijal’s moon, but Yoda has to remind him that there is a bigger picture and they can only act if it’s in their mandate. He says this not because the Council doesn’t want to free slaves, but because there are incredibly complex consequences and if they were to just do whatever they wanted/could do as Jedi it would cause all kinds of issues for others and while he could maybe free a handful of slaves now it would cause countless others to suffer in the long run. But, Qui-Gon wouldn’t accept this, because he refused to see the bigger picture - he refused to look at anything except what was right in front of him.

6. Qui-Gon has a history of failing his Apprentices: Now, I know this isn’t Canon at the moment, but by the time we make it to TPM Qui-Gon has already done severe damage to 2 former Padawans, and is in danger of having history repeat itself. Xanatos was his second Apprentice right before Obi-Wan, and this Padawan was extremely powerful and Qui-Gon insisted he be trained, but the boy fell to the darkside because he had been too old to start training and had a healthy attachment to his family (sound familiar?). Qui-Gon was so devastated by his fall that he went back and reputed his first apprentice, Feemor, claiming he was such a failure of a Master that there is no way his first apprentice should’ve been knighted. He basically in his grief pushed aside an apprentice who while on paper wasn’t anything special, but was kind and dutiful and a true Jedi (sound familiar?). He then begrudgingly takes on Obi-Wan (only after 12 year old Obi-Wan offers to kill himself to save others) and then time and time again tries to basically pawn off Obi-Wan onto someone else (even as far into their relationship as the Master & Apprentice book). Then, when it finally looks like the Kenobi/Jinn team have figured out how to work well together Qui-Gon has to literally be reminded that his Obi-Wan even exists because Qui-Gon is so blinded by Anakin’s power!! How in any way does this seem like a better father figure option for the emotionally needy Anakin?

7. Qui-Gon Jinn has a history of Attachments: The specific example I have is again from Legends, but it shows how Qui-Gon allowed attachments to become dangerous. He had a childhood friend who he fell in love with, they decided that they could handle being committed to each other as well as the Order so they “pledged themselves” to one another (my guess is basically this is like a Jedi marriage so to speak). Sounds beautiful right, and it is, but...But his love interest Tahl was injured on a war torn planet where the children are so sick of their parents' civil war that they form a third army and go to war against the adults. Tahl is caught in the middle of this and is gravely injured. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are sent to rescue her, and Obi-Wan is sickened by the sight of children fighting and wants to stay and help, but Qui-Gon is so blinded by his attachment for Tahl that he for the first time EVER actually follows his mandate and tells Obi-Wan that they weren’t sent there to help the children, but to rescue Tahl. Obi-Wan who is only 13 doesn’t understand so instead of taking the time to really explain it, Qui-Gon just LEAVES his young apprentice behind on a war torn planet. Now, I’ll admit that Qui-Gon did give Obi-Wan a choice, to come back to Coruscant or to stay and fight, thus leaving the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan did make the choice to stay. But, it was Qui-Gon’s responsibility as the teacher to fully explain the situation to Obi-Wan and let him know that they could do more good if they were to go back to the Council and the Senate and try to return with supplies and reinforcements. But no, Qui-Gon just yelled at him, disregarded his feelings and told him their mission was to rescue Tahl. He didn’t bother using this as a teaching moment for Obi-Wan because he was so concerned about his attachment. And then later when Tahl actually died, Qui-Gon nearly fell to the dark side and it was Obi-Wan who saved him.  And then Qui-Gon went on to decide that because of the pain that had been inflicted by losing Tahl he’d basically give Obi-Wan an ultimatum when it came to the woman he loved (and basically downplayed it as nothing but a crush). Now, say what you want about how Obi-Wan handled Anakin/Padme’s relationship - maybe pretending it wasn’t happening instead of confronting Anakin about it wasn’t a healthy/smart choice, but at least he didn’t downplay it and make it look like Anakin’s feelings weren’t real or valid.

8. Qui-Gon refused to apologize: There are several examples where Qui-Gon refuses to accept any responsibilities and won’t apologize. One such point is in TPM where he basically traded his current Padawan in for a newer/shinier model in front of the entire Council (which if this alone isn’t enough cause to prove the man wasn’t the best father figure…) he then refused to even approach Obi-Wan about it, in fact the twenty five year old Apprentice who had just been tossed aside for a supposed prophecy came and apologized to Qui-Gon!! Another example is back in the Jedi Apprentice books where Qui-Gon leaves Obi-Wan on the war torn planet (as mentioned in #7) it is up to Obi-Wan to make it up to Qui-Gon and prove his worth once again. I’m not certain given Anakin’s tendency to need constant affirmations that this would’ve been a good combination.

9. Qui-Gon was manipulative: Oftentimes we see Qui-Gon manipulating people to get his way (I’m not talking about Jedi Mind Tricks). In TPM he manipulates Watto to win Anakin’s freedom, he even manipulates Obi-Wan into taking on the burden of training Anakin by making it his dying wish. He is not above manipulation if he gets his desired result. We see Anakin does the same thing, so one could argue Qui-Gon would’ve only encouraged this behavior.

10. Qui-Gon cared more about the prophecy than the boy: I’m not saying that Qui-Gon didn’t care about people, or even Anakin, in fact he was a very compassionate character. But, all of his arguments to have Anakin be trained was that he is “the Chosen One” not once does he talk about how the boy needs training simply because it’d be dangerous to leave such raw power alone in the galaxy without training, or that it would be the right thing to do. He doesn’t ever talk about how learning to be a Jedi would actually benefit the boy. Every single time he brings up Anakin needing training is because of the prophecy. Now, as far as it looks in both canon and legends Obi-Wan tried incredibly hard to not bring up the prophecy to Anakin (except on Mustafar), Obi-Wan would bring it up to Mace/Yoda but that was about it. Obi-Wan wasn’t blinded by the prophecy because until ROTS it didn’t really appear that he even believed in it - he believed in Anakin for who he was as a person. Something we just didn’t see with Qui-Gon.

Now, Qui-Gon has a lot of great qualities, I am not denying that, but to say that he would’ve been the father figure Anakin needed is just misguided. If you believe in the idea that there is a will of the Force one could argue that Obi-Wan training Anakin was that will, otherwise Qui-Gon wouldn’t have died. 

Also, Mr. Filoni, why is it that Anakin supposedly suffered because he didn’t have a father figure yet you turned around and gave Ahsoka a brother, not a father? Are you suggesting Ahsoka suffered as well because she didn’t have a father figure? Or, was Obi-Wan by this time finally “old” enough to be considered a father figure? 

This idea that Qui-Gon Jinn would’ve been the fix it to Anakin’s issues is just silly and once again places the blame of the Jedi’s destruction in the hands of the Council and specifically Obi-Wan, thus not forcing Anakin to be held responsible for any of his actions. 

I’m sorry, but it’s not a theory I buy due to a lack of evidence. 

[swtorpigeons]

SWTOR Alliance Commander Ask Game

got tagged by @tearlessrain​ , thanks for tagging me :)

1) Who’s your Alliance Commander? What class are they? Alignment? Random other facts you wanna share? 

My Jedi Knight Bezekki! He’s a… neutral or chaotic good sorta guy. Bit of a dick, too. But he’s a Jedi, and at the end of the day, he does do what’s right - he just doesn’t have to be nice about it. The Jedi code doesn’t say anything about that.

2) What’s a reason or two you like that this character is your Commander? 

It fits him pretty well - he’s always chafed against (what he perceives as) the rigidity of the Jedi code, but he’s still very committed to doing good and helping people. He takes action and doesn’t always consider… anything.

3) What’s a reason or two you don’t like about them being Commander?

I really don’t like playing a Jedi Knight lmao. I much prefer consular/inquisitor style gameplay (i just love being glass cannon DPS) and the JK story just doesn’t really work for me. The pacing is off somehow, idk, I don’t find it terribly interesting.

4) Why did this character of all your OCs become Commander? 

It was honestly between him and my Sith Warrior Umyon - the KotFE/KotET plot just seems to be written mostly for those two classes. Maybe the other force sensitive classes, but JK and SW especially. And out of the two, from a completely ‘meta’ sorta standpoint, I think it makes more sense for the Commander to be a Jedi? I think most people would be far less likely to trust a Sith to lead any sort of faction to fight Zakuul, except for the most loyalist Imperials.

5) Who did they side with? Did they stay loyal or go saboteur? Or maybe you headcanon they defect properly? 

Definitely stayed with the Republic. Bezekki might be a bit of a grey Jedi, but he fucking hates the Empire and everything it stands for. He’d probably try and keep the Alliance as independent as possible while still allying with the Republic.

6) Are there any NPC’s from the class stories you’d like to see/HC join the Alliance? 

Hm. There aren’t often a lot of non-companion NPCs alive at the end of the class stories, are there? Honestly I’d be happy if the companions just had bigger parts in the Alliance.

7) How’s your OC feeling about the current Malgus situation?

I think more or less this is what he expects from Sith by now lmao. At this point nothing really shocks him.

8) Are any of your other OC’s part of the Alliance? If yes what do they do for the Alliance? Do they get along with your Commander?

Oh hell yes, I love when people have proper little Alliance canons where all their swtor ocs join.

Umyon, (former) Wrath of the Emperor. As a powerful force-user and the former Wrath, Umyon kind of unofficially represents the Sith in the Alliance. Outside of combat he mainly helps train padawans/acolytes in lightsaber combat, since that’s his main skill. He and Bezekki have a complicated, strained relationship - the problem is they actually get along quite well. They just both hate that. They see themselves in each other, which freaks both of them out a bit.

Annemil, Barsen’thor. Her main role is as a healer, though sometimes she reluctantly plays the role of diplomat. She hates politics, but she and Bezekki have known each other since they were teens, and she knows he can be… abrasive. Annemil’s kind smiles tend to go down easier with people.

Auxayseo, Darth Nox. Used to be more involved during the Zakuul-business, but has returned to serving the Empire after the Alliance allied with the Republic (unlike Umyon, who stuck around). She still functions as something of a diplomat between the Empire and the Alliance due to this previous involvement. She and Bezekki can’t stand each other, but they both recognise each other’s usefulness.

Emilat, (formerly) Cipher Nine. Technically isn’t in the Alliance, since he legally doesn’t exist. As much as a lot of people would like to turn their nose up at the suggestion, it is terribly useful to have a person around who specializes in… eliminating problems. Discreetly. While his experience with the SIS during the IA storyline was awful and ended in a bloodbath, his time in the Alliance slowly changed his view on the Republic, to the point where he ended up joining the SIS and completely leaving the Empire behind. He and Bezekki get along surprisingly well. Just guys being dudes.

Captain Y’riella, The Voidhound Extremely Legitimate Art Dealer! Listen. She’s put that life behind her. Y’riella’s a reformed woman, and all her art and various luxury goods are acquired 100% legally. If the Alliance just so happens to need her to… bring them something, well, that’s perfectly legal isn’t it. Nothing wrong with that. And if that something happens to be credits or weapons or information, well, that’s none of her business is it? Just friends doing friends a favor. 

9) How does your OC feel about Odessen? (Bonus: how do you feel about it) 

It gets the job done. He doesn’t really have much of an opinion of the place that isn’t about the Alliance itself. (Personally, I like it ok, except god damn do I keep getting lost there. Too many rooms.)

10) How does your Commander feel about being the Commander?

Somewhere along the lines of “It’s a shit job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

11) Favorite place in the Alliance base? 

Hangars and landing pads. For all he pretends to not give a fuck about anything except fighting Valkorion, Bezekki likes to keep up with everything - see who’s coming and going, that kinda stuff.

12/13) Favorite mission in KotFE? Favorite mission in KotET?

taking a cue from tearlessrain and combining these two, ‘cause istg they’re the same expansion. I like the party subterfuge one, that was fun. I liked the fight with Arcann too.

14) Least favorite mission in either? Why?

The fucking thing where you have to let either Vette or Torian get murdered. I’m not hugely invested in either character, but from a writing standpoint it’s just so cheap and lazy. Complete with a little “aw they’re sad you let them die” popup. Fuck off with that, I hate when games force your hand and then go “LOOK WHAT YOU DID”

15) Is your Commander successful because they’re skilled? Or are they perhaps just really lucky? 

He’s successful because he’s a little unhinged

16) From our OC’s point of view, SoR -> KotET wasn’t a fun experience, did they develop any fears as a result? 

Complete darkness freaks him out a bit now. He also suffers from sleep paralysis, though Annemil’s been helping him with both. It wasn’t an easy time for any of my swtor ocs, though, ‘cause I gotta have that good timeskip angst.

17) AU time! If your Commander wasn’t Commander, which of your other OCs would have likely taken their place? 

Umyon! He’s basically second-in-command anyway.

18) Who’s someone your Commander hopes they never have to deal with again? 

Darth Rivix. He can’t exactly put his finger on it, but dude freaks him out.

19) Does your Commander hold on to/still use any titles they earned before KotET? 

I mean. “Jedi Knight” is a pretty good title. He’s kept that one.

20) Share something, anything at all, you want about your Commander that you’ve not really gotten the chance to share before but really want to. 

He’s missing half of one of his lekku, as well as one of his arms from the elbow down, due to various injuries he suffered during the JK storyline. He doesn’t want to talk about it, though, and if asked, will come up with random vaguely-believable stories about what happened.

ALSO HE’S TRANS

[chokemeanakin]

idk if you do like song request sorta things, but could you do a fic based on the song "night bus" by gabrielle alpin? especially the "suddenly i know that i'm on my way home to you for the last time" part--maybe an angsty sort of thing where the reader and anakin's relationship gets discovered and she gets sent away or smth? idk i couldn't stop thinking ab it last night and i have no motivation to write it myself and i love your writing so maybe?? tysm!

Oh sis this was so much fun to write. Even though it is sad... idk i liked getting in the feels. Anyway I hope it meets your expectations. If it didn’t, well, pls write it yourself and tag me! I’d love to see what your vision was ❤️🤗

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

WC: 1.8k

Night Bus - Anakin x gn Reader angst

You swore this would never be you. You promised yourself it would last. If two people love each other, there should be no reason you couldn’t be together.

That’s childish thinking, you tugged your jacket tighter around you. Your boots dragged through the grey sludge of the sidewalk, remnants from a lazy downpour of wet snow a few hours before. Your mind whirled and stomach churned as the streetlights began blinking on one by one, the markets closing up for the night. 

It should have been a peaceful thing, but you felt sick. With each step closer to your destination, you felt as though a current was dragging you back, the darkness closing in around you. You knew as soon as you reached him, it would be for the last time. Your fairytale would come to an end, and as you walked through the bitter streets of Coruscant on your way to the Jedi temple, you prepared yourself to say goodbye to your prince charming. 

“It’s selfish, what you’re doing,” Master Windu had hissed at you. You were still reeling from his admittance that he knew about your and Anakin’s relationship. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, you had no idea how he found out. 

“Obi-Wan told you,” your lips felt like rubber.

“He did not,” Mace leveled his gaze at you. “He knows, I’m sure of it. But he respects Anakin too much to give him away like that. A flaw on his part, which will be dealt with later.”

Your head was swimming. What did this mean for you? For Anakin? For the both of you together? Obviously you knew what was next, but your mind couldn’t wrap around it, couldn’t accept it.

“You need to let him go,” Mace declared, not a hint of mercy detected. 

“I can’t.”

“Then he needs to let you go.”

“He won’t.”

“Then you will be the fall of the Jedi!” His sudden outburst made you flinch. Your heart beat fast, blood swishing in your ears. His body was still as a statue, but his eyes were wide and his chest was heaving with an anger that was barely under control. Master Windu was of the more… pessimistic Jedi, but you had never really seen him lose control so completely. Now, you could see he was overwhelmingly stressed. No, not stressed-- panicked. 

“He needs me,” you replied shakily, unwilling to stand down. Anakin had made it clear over and over again that if you just said the word, he would leave the Order for you. The only reason he was still here was because you wouldn’t let him abandon his purpose for you. Windu may think you would be the downfall of the Jedi, but you were the reason it hadn’t completely fallen yet.

“You’re a poison to him.”

It looked like neither of you would be backing down. Windu saw this, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened them, he strolled to his seat, and then motioned for you to take the one beside him.

“Let me explain myself,” his voice was much calmer now, but the hard look in his eyes remained. “Anakin is important. Not just to the Jedi, but to the balance of life itself.”

“He never asked for any of that.”

“But he still is,” Windu argued. “There’s no changing that fact. He is powerful. He has potential. And he’s unstable. He was before he met you, and he is now-- even more so.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of how he feels about you.”

You clenched your fists and glared at Windu. “How could being in love ever be a bad thing?”

“Love is an attachment. When one is attached to something, it can be taken away. When it is taken away, it breeds anger and hate and resentment, a path to the dar--”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” you spit. “I know of your Jedi laws and morals. Now tell me why our love is so forbidden if all it’s bringing him is happiness and peace?”

“For now. It’s happiness and peace for now, because it’s new. I should have stepped in sooner, should have stopped it before it was too late. But with the start of the war, I lost sight of it, got too distracted…” Windu shook his head. “If you end it now, he’ll be able to move on. The damage won’t be permanent.”

“I don’t understand,” your chest stung. 

“He loves you. Any Jedi can sense that. And you love him, too.” You couldn’t meet Windu’s gaze. “If something happens to you, and you are taken away from him, or-- Force forbid-- you die, it will break him. He will be consumed by anger and hatred and he will fall to the dark side. His emotions are strong, far too strong to be handled easily. If Anakin goes to the darkside, the Jedi will be no match for the Sith. We will perish, and the war will be lost, and so will any semblance of peace that exists in this life.”

Mace’s tone softened as he saw the tears build up in your eyes. “This path is inevitable, and it needs to be prevented. The only way we can be sure is to remove you from his life. It was a mistake letting you two get so close, and the Council takes full responsibility. But now, you must let him go.”

“How certain are you,” you forced the words from your aching throat. “How certain are you of this future?”

“Yoda had a vision.”

Your breath left you like a balloon deflating. You were glad you were sitting now, because you didn’t think your legs could handle the weight as you felt your world crumble around you. Anakin’s smiling face flashed through your mind, and a tear trailed down your face.

“You have until sunrise to leave Coruscant,” Mace’s tone was back to authoritative, formal and commanding, leaving no room for argument. “You can never return. Not as long as Anakin is here. You may never come in contact with him ever again.”

“And who’s going to stop me if I do? Who’s going to stop him?”

“If you have any respect for every innocent living being in this galaxy, you will do what needs to be done. Now go. You have a job to do.”

You swore you could hear your heart drop and shatter to the ground in a million tiny pieces as you stood from that chair and walked out of the council room. You spent the day mulling over your conversation, crying, pacing, and pulling at your hair. You tried to think of anything you could do to be with Anakin-- pretend to leave him and be even more secretive, get a different identity so you could stay on Coruscant, run away together. You knew he would if you asked.

But deep down, you knew Windu was right. The Jedi needed Anakin, and you were his weakness. If Anakin left, or fell to the dark side because of you, it would be the end of the galaxy. Just because it wasn’t a possibility now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t one in the future. Yoda had a vision, after all, and the fear in Windu’s eyes told you it was serious. 

Now here you were, walking to Anakin’s place to spend one last night with him before you had to leave him. Forever. Your body ached from the cold, the grief, and from packing your belongings all afternoon. You could barely form words as you booked a ship off the planet for early next morning. Then, you had numbly pulled on your jacket and boots, and began your trek to Anakin one last time. 

Cars whizzed overhead, the honking distant in your hollow ears. You were shaking, but not from the cold, as you caught sight of the Jedi temple ahead. The entrance was only a few feet away. You just had to walk through the door, sneak down the hallway, and you’d be there. He’d open the door, offer you a blinding smile, pull you inside, and warm you up with a drink and a kiss. You would put something on the holonet like you always did, just for background noise, and lay down on the bed and just be together. Talk, or kiss, or hold each other. Feel his laugh vibrate through your body because he was pressed so close to you, watch his curls bounce as he shook his head, listen to the soft sounds of him sleeping. The moonlight always made him look like some sort of space prince as it glistened off his cheekbones, painting him in a pale blue. You would trace your fingertips along his face, and he would pretend to still be asleep as he smiled and kissed your fingertips. So happy, so at peace, so in love--

You stopped in your tracks.

I can’t do this.

The pain was building up again. You thought your heart had already shattered, but the ghost of it kept cracking. Something awful was breaking in your chest with each breath, each second, each step toward your goodbye. There was no way you could face him and be okay tonight. The tears were already making an appearance.

“You need to let him go,” Windu’s voice battled your sorrow. “You will be the fall of the Jedi.”

The breath you took was like swallowing razor blades as the cold air filled your lungs. Steadying yourself on the wall of the temple, you pushed your way past the entrance and entered the main hall. The familiar smell worsened your nausea, and you kept your hood up and head down as you walked the familiar path down the hall, taking the elevator up, and then crossing the last hallway before you found his door.

You schooled your features and shoved down the swirling tempest threatening to spill out of you. Once your hands stopped trembling, you brought a fist up and knocked on the door.

Anakin opened the door. He was smiling brilliantly, blue eyes sparkling in the light. The image of his face falling, eyes clouding over in confusion and hurt as he searched for you the next morning and found you gone flashed through your mind. You knew he would never stop searching for you. This is not what he would have wanted. But Mace was right-- he would heal, in time, and he could live the life he was supposed to live; as a Jedi, a General, and the Chosen One. 

“Anakin,” you forced yourself to smile. “Hi.”

His smile turned from charming to soft, hands immediately moving to pull you into his room for the last time. “You’re freezing, my love. Let’s get you warmed up, I already made you something to drink.”

[calboniferous]

In Theory

Work 1 in The Pen and the Sword aka. my jedi and academics AU

A stressed post-graduate anthropology researcher from Coruscant University enters the Jedi Archives for the first time and is promptly taken under the wing of one Master Archivist Jocasta Nu.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32355310

—

Master Jocasta Nu felt the visitor before she saw them. Stress and a frenetic energy radiated through the force tangled with the unique threads of emotion and colour that made up their signature.

Closing the book in front of her with a soft thud, mindful of its frayed edges, she appraised the blue nautolan hurrying towards her. Their worn brown coat was unbuttoned and struggling to stay onto their shoulders, saved by the strap of the bag hanging off one side which the nautolan had one arm wrapped around. Apparently, the bag’s tie had lost the battle against the tide of flimsy and datapads making the simple bag bulge obscenely.

Ah.

A scholar.

Like the many before them, they had come to Master Nu’s beloved archives in hope of finding salvation in its hallowed stacks. With her guidance, they always did and more often than not, they would return again. And again.

However, this scholar was not one that Master Nu had seen before and as they glanced wide-eyed at the towering shelves, shying away from passing Jedi, she surmised that the Jedi archives were unfamiliar to them also.

They reached her desk out of breath.

“I need books on Kante martial arts and history. Do you have books on Kante? If it has historical martial arts then that would be incredible but I’m setting the bar low. Really, the bar is non-existent. Should I even be setting a bar I don’t know- do you know what the Kante are? Were? They’re extinct”

“Young one, breathe.” Master Nu said, lifting her hand to interrupt the rush of words. Her brow softened in sympathy, ���How about you start from the beginning and tell me what your thesis is and then we’ll go about finding resources.”

She signalled to one of the Padawans stacking holopads nearby for them to take over monitoring the main desk and led Tema to one of the many sunlit alcoves tucked between the buttresses.

Settling on a cushion across the low table from the sleep deprived nautolan, Master Nu pulled out her well-worn datapad, ready to formulate a list of texts to recommend for this student’s project. She had gathered quite the collection of such lists over the years and took great pride in curating them. Often, she would continue to add to them in her spare time so that when the person they had been made for returned, it was waiting and ready. And, if Master Nu happened to enjoy the thrill of a hunt for obscure references through her own archives every now and again, that was her own business.

Stylus in hand, she was ready to begin.

“You mentioned martial arts?”

“Right. Yes. I’m studying the fighting style of the Kante people which they used to reclaim their lands 7000 years ago after it was conquered in the Chandrillan Divide. The politics of the reclamation itself have been documented to death but there’s kriff all discussing how they actually fought,”

Master Nu hummed sympathetically, listening as a classic university post-graduate research tragedy poured out in all its glory. The purple shadows smeared under Tema’s dark eyes suggested that more than one night had been lost to this.

It was a credit to her Jedi training and skill as an archivist that Master Nu could write notes, elegant script flitting smoothly across the datapad without misspelling a single title or name, while offering comforting hums and interjecting words of encouragement where Tema faltered.

“So now I need to piece it together myself in order to build a theory on how the Kante people approached battlefield strategy,” Tema finished, fidgeting with their bag strap.

Setting her stylus down, Master Nu surveyed the drafted list with a critical eye. It was a daunting selection. She weighed the situation in her mind and carefully turned the datapad off, placing it down with a muted click of metal on the polished stone table.

“That’s quite the task you’ve got” Master Nu said, “more than an Honours project scope covers.”

She loathed to discourage any scholar but there were limits to the workload that could be shouldered and she had a strict honesty policy. With all her Jedi compassion and experience ad Head Archivist, Master Nu knew how to recognise when a student needed guidance in whittling down their research focus to a reasonable magnitude.

“I know,” Tema sighed, shoulders sagging, “I know but my project topic has already been approved by my supervisor.”

“Dear, your project as it stands is enough to satisfy a PhD and beyond. I can tell you are passionate about it but it’d be a tragedy for you to fail because you tried to complete years’ worth of work in the 10 months you have.”

The blue nautolan wilted a little, head tails curling.

“I don’t see what choice I have. I can’t form a thesis on the merits of Kante strategy without knowing how it worked at the individual level,” they said, resignation colouring their force signature grey with worry.

Master Nu paused, and after a moment spoke.

“Have you considered centring your project on the martial arts itself? At the individual level, as you say. Leaving the rest aside to focus on that should technically be within your project topic.”

Tema blinked, “That’s…that would work. Yes.”

Master Nu watched as they turned the idea over, considering how to approach it.

“Yes. That would make it more of a research-and-reconstruction project. A literature review with practical application.”

They gave a wry smile, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Some of the frazzled emotion of their presence eased and a few threads of humour sparked in its wake.

“I could have saved myself from being sick from worry in the University ‘freshers yesterday.”

They flushed a little darker at that admission and Master Nu suppressed what would have been a rather unprofessional snort of amusement as she clicked the datapad back on. Ah, younglings. They never changed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. That amount of stress isn’t conducive to clarity of mind, I’d wager,” Master Nu soothed, deleting a few items from the list with a satisfied air, “You’re hardly the first person’s I’ve known to have an adverse reaction to academic stress. Now, I do believe this list is ready.”

Rising with more grace than her age suggested she was capable of, she smoothed the creases in her cream and straw-gold robes and led the way into the maze of columns and shelves. Tema followed a step behind in a manner that to any observers bore remarkable resemblance to a duckling following its mother – if ducklings were six-and-a-half feet tall, that is.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine a Jedi getting sick from assignments,” they mused absentmindedly, tipping their head to catch some of the book titles they passed, “all this information – it’d be hard to fail.”

Master Nu chuckled at that, passing through an archway into a side corridor.

“I’m afraid it can happen to anyone. One of my agemates routinely emptied his stomach at the prospect of examinations – that one, in fact,” she said, gesturing to one of the bronze busts lining the hall. The metallic features gave the human man depicted a severe expression. In Master Nu’s opinion, it was rather true to life even if the beard was far to neatly sculpted.

“The poor man. Perfection was as much his vice as his virtue.”

She smiled fondly, crows’ feet crinkling with nostalgia at sharing this particular story – at sharing the humanity of someone so proud and distant both in life and artistic rendition.

Tema faltered and the markings on their head tails blanched light blue.

“Oh, uh, my condolences.”

“Hmm?” Master Nu turned to them, “Oh no, he’s not dead. He’s retired.”

“Oh,”

They blinked, nonplussed.

“This way, dear”

The pair continued on their winding path. Master Nu, frequently gesturing to some architectural feature or other with her datapad, began to explain how the Jedi Archival system worked, pausing every now and then to pull a tome from the shelves.

“It is what many have described as ‘archaic’,” she said, stepping deftly onto the fourth rung of a sliding ladder attached to one of the shelves to reach her next target, “but no one—and I mean no one—has said it is an ineffective system.

“At least not in my earshot,” she said with a laugh, pulling the volume from its place and passing it down to Tema. The rumours the initiates (and fully-grown Knights) liked to spread about Master Nu’s draconian defence of the archives may not be entirely accurate but were taken by most as a warning to avoid slandering the archive in her presence. She knew Tholme liked to stir the pot and recount tales of her lightsabre prowess to the initiates, no matter that the stories were thirty years out-of-date.

“That being said, it can take some getting used to. The Padawans and Knight Archivists are always around and willing to retrieve sources for our visitors.”

Master Nu dismounted from the ladder, blew dust from her sleeve, and turned a critical eye on to the stack of books and datapads in Tema’s arms that had been steadily growing in size. The scholar looked strong enough to take a couple more, taking into account that their bulging bag would not fit anything more inside.

“That’s the last one from this aisle.”

She clicked her tongue and marked a check on her list next to the sources they were borrowing. They were all copies, of course, or volumes easily enough to source a replacement that their loss wouldn’t be abhorrent. Nonetheless, clean records made maintaining the collection less stressful on her soul.

On that note, Master Nu was pleased to feel that Tema was no longer pouring stress into the force like an anxious firehose. And—

She stilled, tilting her head as a familiar presence tickled the edges of her senses.

“Master Nu?” Tema asked, noticing her change in manner.

“Nothing to worry about,”

She once again took the lead. Down the aisle, then one aisle to the left and as they rounded the corner Master Nu smiled at the sight before her.

A little blue and beige figure was hunched over a book resting on the floor, absentmindedly gnawing on her Padawan silka beads and completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Padawan Secura! Why am I not surprised?” Master Nu called lightly and the twi’lek girl jerked, breaking from her literature-induced reverie to scramble to her feet.

“I’m not skipping sabre class again. I swear!”

Had it been any other Padawan of Aayla’s age group, Master Nu would think that emphatic declaration of innocence meant the Padawan in question was skipping class. Skywalker came to mind as a repeat offender of that variety.

Only question was that Junior Padawan sabre classes were always on Taungsday afternoons—this afternoon—and had been since before Master Nu was a crecheling. She hummed, unconvinced.

“Knight Kenobi is doing catch-up lessons this week and he said my forms were good enough to skip.”

That explained it. It seemed only yesterday that he’d been roaming the archives as a padawan himself, tearing through histories of the planets he’d visited at Qui-Gon’s side with single-minded focus. Shame that his lineage had picked him up before her own could. He would have made a fantastic archivist despite his record of being convinced to scale the bookshelves whenever Vos got temple fever.

Well, at least Aayla’s fencing education was in good hands.

Master Nu beamed at Aayla, “Then good work padawan and, as you are free, would you like to join us in gathering sources for Scholar Induri here?”

Aayla brightened, “Absolutely!”

And then, remembering her diplomacy training, bowed to Tema, setting her Padawan beads swinging. “Nice you meet you, Scholar.”

She scooped up the book she had been reading and as she put it back in its slot, Master Nu glimpsed the title.

“Reading Bastilla Shan again are we Padawan?”

The padawan blushed, fiddled with her tunic and handily dodged the teasing with a question of her own, “What are we looking for, Master?”

“See for yourself, young one,” Master Nu passed over the datapad, pointing to the highlighted entries.

Aayla squinted at the handwriting for a second before passing the pad back and running away down the aisle, one hand skimming the shelf labels. Padawans were lovely to have around and, watching Aayla slide 4 meters down a ladder and return to them with a grin plastered across her face, Master Nu wondered if she should take another student. Or, better yet, invite her former Padawans around for tea to see if more Grandpadawans would be joining the lineage soon.

“Thank you, dear,” she gave Aayla a pat on the head, “I’ll leave you to your reading. Just don’t forget to remind your Master that he needs to renew the materials he borrowed last month.”

Then, she turned to Tema who hadn’t made so much as a peep the past five minutes, seemingly satisfied to observe the interaction.

“Let’s get these checked out so you can get to reading them.”

Back to the main desk, the archivist and scholar wandered, and a minute later there was a new name entered into the borrowing database.

“Again, thank you for everything, Master Nu” Tema said, gathering the stack back into their arms. They were a little overwhelmed but they were smiling.

“Dear, it’s no trouble. One last thing, are you planning on enlisting someone practised in martial forms in your project? Or were you aiming for a more theoretical illustration of your findings?”

Tema cast their eyes to one side and shifted their weight.

“Ideally, yes, but I have no idea where to find someone like that so…theoretical?”

They trailed off.

“Good. I’m free to ask around here, then,” Master Nu said, tugging Tema’s bag strap so it was in less immediate danger of falling of their shoulder.

“If you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to send me a message or drop by. My archive is always open,”

At that, she tucked a slip of flimsy with her com code underneath the top datapad in the stack and gave Tema a parting pat on the cheek. With hope in their step, the scholar passed back out the archive doors, into the sunlight of the hall beyond.

Content, Master Nu smiled and watched them go.

“Now,” she mused to herself, opening the roster of temple-bound jedi and beginning to peruse the list, “who to ask…”

Her thoughts turned to the bronze bust of a man whose devotion to esoteric research was only outmatched by his skill with a blade.

His legacy…

Her eyes caught on a name. Yes, that would do very nicely indeed.

In the interest of vetting the source she intended to recommend, Master Nu made a mental note to attend next week’s exhibition tournament.

[alextir-creates]

Barrissoka Fankids (Updated) by Tigrette-of-Fire

Hey everyone! Folks who’ve been following me for long enough might remember my Barrissoka fankids. Sorry about the reposting – I took these guys down a while ago to do design updates, but then distinctly didn’t remember to save my caption for the work and have largely been too embarrassed to put them back up.

Some days I am filled with regret.

However, I’ve been able to re-put together most of the info about them, so I’m finally reposting! More info and the image description under the cut!

Kovis, Isu, and Berall are intended to be Barriss and Ahsoka’s biological children. It’s space with sci-fi tech and they’re both aliens – who’s to say that they couldn’t have biological kids? Also, trans people exist. I don’t have specific headcanons about that, mostly because it feels really transphobic and fetishistic to headcanon one of them as trans just so they could have biological children. Just… yikes. The point though is just not to be cisnormative.

I originally had all three of these guys having the surname name “Tano-Offee,” but I’m less sure about that now. I’ve changed Luke and Leia’s (as well as their OC little sister, Voxanni’s) surname to “Naberrie” from “Amidala-Skywalker” for this verse, so… We’ll see. If anyone has feelings one way or the other, feel free to shoot me a message.

Quick background on these kids: Kovis (he/him) is the eldest – depicted at about 22 in this picture. He’s generally mild mannered and is a Jedi Healer. Isu (she/her) and Berall (she/her) are twins – depicted at about 17 in this picture. Berall is the more extroverted of the two of them, but Isu – despite being definitively being the anxious one – is the adrenaline junkie. I’m still sussing out what I want their career paths as Jedi to be, but whatever they end up being, Isu’s going to be an ace pilot. As an aside and fun fact, Kovis is gay, Berall is aroace, and Isu is bi.

Star Wars © Lucasfilm

Art, Kovis, Isu, and Berall © Me

[Image ID: three bust drawings of Mirialan-Togruta (two alien species from Star Wars) hybrids. In the top right, labeled “Kovis” a young man who takes after the Togruta side of his heritage in that he has montrals and lekku. His lekku reach down to his pectorals, and they and his montrals are white with teal striping. The stripe pattern is similar to that of Shaak Ti and Clone Wars Era Ahsoka Tano. His skin is the green typical of Mirialans and his eyes are cobalt blue. He has long, hooked white markings accenting his cheekbones, and smaller, drop-shaped white markings in place of eyebrows. He also sports Mirialan tattoos – three diamonds by each eye, another three over the bridge of his nose, and a stripe of diamonds down his chin from his bottom lip (which is itself tattooed black). He is wearing a simple gold akul-tooth headdress with no beading. Kovis is wearing classically-styled Jedi robes, though they are in shades of grey and dark teal instead of the more typical beiges and browns.

Kovis is turned slightly to the viewer’s left, and is smiling gently.

In the middle left, labelled “Berall” is a teenage girl who takes after the Mirialan side of her heritage in that she does not have montrals and lekku. Her skin is a medium, olive-brown and her eyes are a bright teal. She has white markings covering most of her upper face, though there are drop-shapes of the olive-brown in place of eyebrows. She also has a white stripe running down her chin from beneath her bottom lip. She sports Mirialan tattoos as well – a long sting of diamonds going across her face, crossing the bridge of her nose to do so. Her hair is covered, and the covering based of Hokkeji-style Buddhist nun’s habit. The habit is pale lavender, with darker trim. She is wearing a pale-magenta high-collared shirt with gold trim over a pale-lavender head and neck covering (inspired both by Barriss Offee’s costume design and certain types of sports Hijabs). She has a pale lavender wrapping over the high-collared shirt at the chest level, and a lavender outer robe with a floral motif. She also has a gold akul-tooth headdress, though hers is much more ornate than Kovis’s, and includes four strands of gold beading going over the back of her head.

Berall is facing forward and smiling brightly.

On the bottom left, labeled “Isu,” is another teenage girl who takes after the Mirialan side of her heritage in the same way that Berall does. Like Berall, her skin is a medium, olive-brown and her eyes are teal. Her white facial markings, however, consist of two large diamonds that surround her eyes. She also has a white stripe running down her chin from beneath her bottom lip. She also sports Mirialan tattoos – a short chain of diamonds running vertically over each eye. She is wearing a dark-lavender hijab-inspired head covering. She wears a gold akul-tooth headdress even more ornate than Berall’s, though it only includes two strands of gold beading going over the back of her head instead of two.

Isu is also facing forward, though she is looking slightly to the viewer’s right and biting her lip nervously.

End ID]

[felassan]

Some wee scraps from various recent articles on the subject of the next Mass Effect game (not MELE):

[Kym Hoy, VA of Kasumi Goto] is also aware of Mass Effect Legendary Edition and the next Mass Effect game headed by BioWare veterans. When asked whether she’d reprise her role as Kasumi, Hoy lights up, “I would! I would leave my hole in Mexico, and go to Los Angeles, no problem... Or I could do it from a home studio here, which would be even better. But I would love to continue to work on this franchise. It's a lot of fun.”

For the longest time, Hoy didn’t even know she had fans until she poked around the internet. And for that, she’s grateful and loves all the people who have enjoyed her work through the Mass Effect series. She also wanted to give a shoutout to BioWare, saying that the studio can contact her agent to get in touch with her again for the next adventure in the series.

“All means, by all means, tell them that Kasumi is ready to be at your service,” she signs off, picking up Kasumi’s voice as if it’s as natural as breathing. [source]

---

Interviewer: Would you want to score the music for the new Mass Effect game coming down the pipeline that was teased during The Game Awards?

Mass Effect composer Jack Wall: I'm always open, BioWare! [source]

---

I thought it would be worth asking [former ME/BW devs] if they'd ever return to Mass Effect. In most cases, the answer was yes - but it often came with the same condition. While almost everyone I spoke to answered with some variation of "yes, if..." three different developers specifically mentioned that they'd love to work on a game like Elite Dangerous, but in the Mass Effect universe. For what it's worth, these answers all came independently of one another - none of these developers knew that their former colleagues had the same idea in mind.

"Under the right circumstances, yes," Mass Effect 3 senior gameplay designer Patrick Moran tells me after being asked if he'd return to the series. "The technology exists now to really connect the world seamlessly, with examples like No Man's Sky, Elite [Dangerous], and even Everspace 2. I'd love to have a more seamless transition through the world than navigating a map.

"I also believe AI is a big unexplored area for triple-A gaming. Rimworld is a great example of tracking history between characters, having personality traits, and allowing the player to develop deep connections to those characters. I'd love to explore a similar system for generic NPCs, so they are more than vending machines and dialogue tree bots. I believe the next 20 years will result in NPC AI which will dwarf anything we thought possible."

"I would work in the Mass Effect setting again," Mass Effect 2 and 3 writer Jay Turner tells me. "It's a fun setting to think about and populate with characters. I'd love to see an open-world game where you're a trader/pirate type, like Elite Dangerous but in the Mass Effect universe." You'll probably be interested to know that Turner was the writer who created Kasumi, and also worked on Omega alongside Neil Pollner. What I mean is, he's definitely qualified to write person to write a "trader/pirate" narrative in Mass Effect.

It's worth noting that we recently reported on a Han Solo-inspired Mass Effect spin-off that was cancelled prior to Mass Effect 2, which would have likely fit this mold perfectly. But, as Moran says, the advancements in tech and AI mean that a modern or future game based on a similar concept could be much better, meaning that the fact this game was never actually made could be a blessing in disguise.

Dorian Kieken, who was development director on Mass Effect 2 and 3, before becoming franchise development director in the early days of Andromeda, also said he'd return to the series. He said after a decade working on Mass Effect, he developed a certain kind of franchise fatigue - but now, enough time has passed that he'd like to work on a new adventure in this universe.

"I like the idea of exploring a 'grayer' character, akin to a smuggler/pirate type in the Mass Effect universe," Kieken says. "It also allows [us] to see the world from a different point of view than the one of the chosen super soldier. It's a bit like exploring the Star Wars universe without being a Jedi or the Warhammer 40k universe without being a Space Marine."

When I told Kieken that other devs had mentioned similarly grey, smuggler-esque characters, he said he wouldn't be surprised if these people were on the team that explored the Han Solo concept.

"I think having 'grayer' types of characters, defined as not being aligned with the universe's good or bad guys, and also not attached to any major factions like pirates, allows you a large breath of exploration that you don't have when you are the savior of the galaxy," Kieken explains. "Think of the story freedom you have in TV series like the Mandalorian or FIrefly thanks to mercenaries or smuggler character archetypes."

As it stands, none of these three people work at BioWare - however, all of them have said they'd be more than happy to return under the right conditions (as many other devs have also told me), and they've already got an idea for the exact kind of Mass Effect game they'd like to make. I'm not sure about you, but I'm 100% here for "Elite Dangerous, except it's Mass Effect." [source]

[diversetolkien]

If you could rewrite Star Wars, how would you do it? You don't have to give a super detailed answer, just, in general, what would you change? And if you DO wanna give a detailed answer, I would be tickled pink, actually.

If you could rewrite Star Wars, how would you do it? You don't have to give a super detailed answer, just, in general, what would you change? And if you DO wanna give a detailed answer, I would be tickled pink, actually.

This is such a loaded question because Star Wars covers so much, but I’ll just hit up on what I would change. I’ll probably rework and readd, but here’s what I have for now!

Ezra would be the main character, not Luke. Ezra’s story as a brown refugee just resonates more deeply with me, especially since Star Wars pushes an anti-facism/anti-racist agenda. Making the heroes of the Trilogy all white, with the exception of Lando. I don’t feel connected to the story, and didn’t really until people of color were introduced. Ezra seems to be a more rounded character, and his loss and struggles as a person of color make him more relatable. Luke, IN MY OPINION, is a glamorized white savior that I’m not too invested in. o  To that note: Hera would have looked for Ezra with Sabine and Ahsoka. o   Kanan would have lived as would Jacen, but Kanan would step completely away from the war and raise Jacen with Hera gone. o   Plo would have survived Order 66. o   The battle of Endor would still happen, but Ezra would eventually be found by then with Luke working directly under him. Ezra would be more of a teacher/friend/brother to Luke. Vader would still exist, but that wouldn’t be the crux of the story.

Jedi would advocate for Clone rights from the get-go. Especially Anakin, and in fact Anakin’s fall would be partly due to his inability to save/help his men. Realizing his men are constantly dying is a growing push for him to join the Dark Side, especially since he feels the Council doesn’t do much.

 Ahsoka would not leave the Order, but she would create her own sect of Jedi—the Grey Jedi. It would work independently from the temple, and also enlist non-force sensitive to learn the way of the Force (ex: Trace and Rafa). Ahsoka would also be an outspoken critic of the Jedi—she still loves them, but spending time among the Coruscant people, she uses her position to advocate for change.

Anakin’s fall doesn’t have to be tied to something romantic, and watching Ahsoka leave, his men die, and eventually turn on him (I hc that Obi-Wan takes 501st members with him to Mustufar) would have been enough to push him.

Rex would also dessert, thus pushing Anakin even more. Rex would also work in secret with Ahsoka in their new Order. 

But additionally, there would be an already existing system for clones to desert. Finn would be a Jedi, not Rey. Though tbh, I would completely retcon the new trilogy. I cannot stand it.

Kallus would work his ASS off to be with Zeb—and I mean going and freeing Lasats from existing imperial bases.

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober2020 - Day 5

We’re right around the halfway point for the oof!au as of today! Life continues to be awful for Obi-Wan and the 212th. All general warnings still apply. Specific to today’s entry: strangulation (with the Force), torture, mistreatment of prisoners, brief mention of non-con, branding. Still jumping around with the prompts.

Oof!au basic information: Post-Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

Obi-Wan stared across at the wall in his cell for a long time, after the med-droids pulled him from the bacta. He had not thought while submerged in the tank. It had been a relief. All his memories were waiting for him as he came back to consciousness, every burning moment of them.

There was no way to pretend, even for a moment, that it had not happened. The brands across his back pulled each time he tried to move, remaining even after the bacta treatment. He could not see the marks well, not even with his arms free, as they were most of the time in his cell. He shuddered to think what Anakin had burned into his skin, what marks he would bear, for however long he remained alive.

He had known, when he antagonized Anakin, that the results were unlikely to be.... Pleasant. But he’d had no choice. Allowing Anakin to consider too long Padmé’s fate, the fate of his children…. It risked too much. The safety of the children first and foremost.

There was comfort in imagining Luke and Leia safe. Far away from the violence of their father. Obi-Wan would keep himself between them and the rage burning within Anakin, until it consumed him outright. He could keep Anakin distracted, keep his thoughts away from the children, from everyone who needed protection. Obi-Wan knew he could continue making Anakin angry. It had never been a difficult task, and it was significantly easier at the moment.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again, because there was nothing he wanted to see in the dark of his own mind. He’d been aware of Anakin’s….occasionally lustful thoughts for years, since even before Anakin had been Knighted. Anakin had watched him. Wanted him. But he’d never imagined Anakin would--

Well. There were so many things he’d never imagined Anakin would do. Forcing his way into Obi-Wan’s body was hardly the foulest of his actions of late. Compared to genocide, it barely counted, he thought, laughing alone in his empty, barren cell. The alternative was weeping, and he wouldn’t do that.

He knew well enough he was being monitored, ever and always.

It was strange, he considered, absently. He’d felt like a sleep-walker for years, living on Tatooine. He’d gone through the motions of living, a part of him stuck and held back on Mustafar, in that awful instant when he had turned and walked away from Anakin, all of his failures curdling in him.

Obi-Wan felt awake and like himself again, sitting in a cell, subjected to one hurt after another. He knew how to handle torture, knew only one way to deal with it, and it felt natural to fall back into sharp, ill-advised words, to goad his captor, controlling them without them ever realizing what he was doing, to feel almost… confident that he would escape.

He always had before, after all.

He needed to balance himself, if there was to be an escape. Needed to prepare for whatever Anakin intended to do to him next. Luke and Leia were depending upon him, after all. There was no way to reach out and touch the Force, no way to draw comfort from his connection to the universe. There’d not been much comfort there, of late, anyway.

He leaned his head against the wall, stared at nothing, and tried to focus on breathing exercises. He told himself, eventually, that he started to feel better.

#

Anakin left him alone, for days. Long enough that Obi-Wan suspected he’d been called away on some other mission, dancing to the whims of his Master. There was no way to adequately track the days in that featureless cell.

Troopers brought him food, sometimes. Well, they brought him nutrition, anyway, some kind of mush that was grey-ish brown in color, contained in a tube. One of them would hold his hair and jaw while the other forced it into his mouth, giving him no choice but to swallow or choke.

They always dragged his arms back and bound them, first, forcing him face-down against the cold floor, before pulling him upright once more, like he was little more than a sack of cargo.

“Delicious, as always,” he rasped, after they finished one day, specks of whatever the food was caught across his chin. It tasted vaguely of dirt and always set heavily in his stomach. They did not reply, they didn’t even look at him, his men who had been--

Been turned off, inside. Not even their expressions changed, as far as he ever saw. They were blank-eyed marionettes. Like droids, except droids had personality, even with a control bolt. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat tight and pinched closed, wondering if all of the troopers had suffered the same fate; if they’d all been killed, for all that their bodies continued walking around. He’d grieved for his people, for the Jedi, after the genocide…

He hadn’t realized that he had the eradication of two entire peoples to mourn. “Alzo. Booster,” he said, because someone had to remember their names for them, had to remember who they had been, now that they’d had their identities taken away. He supposed he might be the last person in the galaxy who both could and would. “I’m so sorry. For what they did to you.”

Alzo didn’t turn or hesitate as he walked through the door. Obi-Wan thought Booster did, thought he froze, for just an instant, but… Well. He knew he was looking for shreds of hope, regardless of whether or not they actually existed. 

#

The troopers cared for his other physical needs on a sporadic basis. Sometimes they dragged in a hose and sprayed him down, the water icy cold and stinging across his skin. The pressure was so high that he had to turn his shoulders against it, but at least it cleaned him off.

Sometimes, they held him in place and shaved his face, uncareful with the razor. They did not trim his hair; it grew down over the tops of his ears, lower, shaggy. He doubted he’d recognize himself, without a beard and with such tangled hair, but that mattered little. There were no mirrors, in his little cage.

There was nothing at all to offer a distraction, just his healing wounds and the weight of wondering what Anakin had planned for him, next.

#

Obi-Wan felt almost certain weeks had passed by the time the troopers dragged him from his cell again. He’d gotten familiar with the walk through the halls of Anakin’s mountain fastness, to his throne room. He made absent conversation as they walked, the utter silence of his companions a weight in his chest.

They seemed to have grown used to his chatter. Or, at least, they no longer struck him for it. Perhaps Anakin had reprogrammed them.

Considering that option distracted him, if nothing else, from what he could guess was coming. Anakin waited already in the room for him, sitting on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, expression hidden behind his dark mask.

He was speaking to Cody, as Obi-Wan was dragged in, Cody standing there at attention before him, straight-backed and blank-faced and-- It was all wrong, all of it, even just catching the end of a conversation where Cody reported what had happened in Anakin’s absence. Obi-Wan wondered, fleetingly, if Anakin really left Cody in charge, if it were only another barb, meant to cut into Obi-Wan.

The...harness they’d chained Obi-Wan to last time remained where it was. It pulled at his attention, heavy as gravity. Obi-Wan fought to control his expression as Anakin stood and said, “Restrain him.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Obi-Wan said, speaking as Cody walked over to him, though he expected no answer. He fully anticipated that he would be ignored utterly, and so he was not disappointed as his arms and legs were dragged into position.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I don’t have to do this, either?” Anakin said, the mechanical sound of his voice still jarring and wrong. He’d stood and crossed the room, apparently, staying behind Obi-Wan’s back. 

“Would it do me any good?” Obi-Wan asked, as the wall-covering raised across the room, revealing the fires of Mustafar, so far below. The lava fell in the distance, leaving Obi-Wan feeling cold.

“No,” Anakin said, leather-covered fingers trailing across the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m no longer swayed by your lies.”

“I’m not the one lying,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin snarled behind him, stepping away. Obi-Wan felt the heat when the furnace opened. He wondered how much of his skin Anakin intended to burn this time. He kept talking, because he knew no other way to be, “Successfully murder anyone for your new master?”

The pain was sudden and swift, directly over his spine, the metal so hot it felt almost cold as ice, at first, tendrils of agony spreading everywhere. “I protected the Empire,” Anakin snapped, leaning his weight against the brand, “I made people safer! Secure!”

The brand came off his skin, though it really changed nothing about the level of his pain. He listened to the metal clatter across stone, considering, bitterly, that once he would have hoped desperately for Anakin to find him, in this situation. Once, he would have held out hope that Anakin - above all others - would rescue him.

He said, around the bitterness in his throat, “Ah. The way you made our people safer?”

“The Jedi weren’t my people,” Anakin snarled back and - and the next burn was higher, still on his spine, a blaze of agony. “They were nothing but a corrupt cult. Religious fanatics who went power mad during the war. They were traitors--”

“Traitors to what?” Obi-Wan cut in, the lies pouring from Anakin’s mouth too much for him to take. He panted, twisting his wrists against the bonds, body shaking as Anakin pressed a fresh brand to his skin and it hurt, Force--

“To the Republic,” Anakin spat, and Obi-Wan laughed, shakily.

“Oh,” he gasped, his thoughts getting sharper with pain, “the Republic you destroyed? That Republic, or do you mean--”

“Shut up!” Anakin snarled, and made his point by curling tendrils of the Force around Obi-Wan’s throat, squeezing. Obi-Wan sipped at the air, unable to breathe deeply, feeling his pulse pounding against his skin, giving a strangled cry as Anakin burned him again, Force, he’d almost reached Obi-Wan’s neck--

“The Jedi betrayed the galaxy. They were dangerous. Self-centered. Even before the war, they - they only cared about themselves. But I saw through them, with the help of my new Master. And - and we stopped them. We gave the Jedi exactly what they deserved, Obi-Wan. Just like you’re getting what you deserve.”

He released his choking grip, finally, and Obi-Wan slumped, gulping at the air, smelling the burned char of his own flesh, shivering all over and unable to stop it. He’d gone into shock, he knew. There was no way to avoid it without the Force to draw on, the tell-tale signs of it a betrayal by his own body.

He thought how fortunate it was that he seemed to have set Anakin off on a speech, one that did not require further input from anyone else. “It was right, what I did,” Anakin was shouting, pacing, by the sound of his voice, no longer right at Obi-Wan’s back, “Necessary. And - and my success proves that the Jedi deserved it. The Force smiled upon me. Blessed my purpose. It was the will of the Force. Their - their death proves that.”

Something shifted in Obi-Wan, beyond the pain, beyond the numb horror of the past years. Something that had always been within him, a fierce little ball of whatever made up his soul, stirring his tongue, knowing it would drag Anakin’s attention back, knowing it would mean more pain…

“By your logic,” he panted, inhaling the smell of char and ruin, unable to stay silent while Anakin deluded himself even further, “I suppose that means what happened to your mother was the will of the Force.”

There was a moment of utter silence. Utter stillness. Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched up in one corner as he stared out into the falling lava, bracing with a jagged grin.

Anakin snarled, something low and deadly in his tone, “What did you just say?”

Obi-Wan wetted his bottom lip, unblinking, deliberate in each word he spoke. “I said: you must believe, then, that the successful murder of your mother proved that she deserved--”

Anakin made an awful sound, bestial, and something gripped around Obi-Wan’s throat, his mouth, the Force digging into bone and muscle. “Take it back!” Anakin roared, even as the shackles around Obi-Wan’s wrists tore open, pried apart with the Force.

Obi-Wan slumped, opening his mouth to refuse, but no sounds issued from his throat, Anakin’s grip only tightening, crushing things--

“I said: take it back!” Anakin snarled, grabbing his shoulder, jerking him around and the first blow caught Obi-Wan by surprise, spinning him and dropping him to the ground. Anakin followed, fingers in his hair, tilting his face up into another blow.

“How dare you!” Anakin spat, following one blow with another and Obi-Wan lost track, the impact of metal against flesh felt almost like it was happening to someone else, someone far away from him, Anakin’s continued demands that he apologize, that he recant everything, take back his lies, were barely even noticed.

He could not speak anyway. Anakin was… crushing things. In his throat. Tearing them to pieces. He could not make a sound, not as Anakin bodily lifted him, throwing him against the stockade, pressing him into the sharp edges of the metal, and all the pain blended together into one huge, twisting nightmare.

Eventually, the dark reached up and took him away, even while Anakin was still thrusting into him. 

Obi-Wan fell into the black and appreciated the relief.

#

Obi-Wan woke up in his cell, most of the hurts gone. For a moment, after waking, he considered that perhaps he’d only dreamed his last run-in with Anakin. But his throat hurt, still, strange and deep. He cleared it and tried to rasp out a “hello” to no one. He made no sound at all, and shuddered.

He did not bother trying to leverage himself up off of the floor. He lacked the energy for it.

He wondered, smelling bacta drying in his hair, why Anakin had simply not killed him.

He was still wondering when Tich and Sweeper brought his breakfast. Obi-Wan nodded at them, old habit, since he could not offer a proper greeting. They alternated his care, the men on the base. Obi-Wan believed there to be around three-dozen of them, but… Some had disappeared, since he’d been delivered.

He shuddered to think what had happened to them.

Tich and Sweeper shackled him and hauled him up, pushing his shoulders against the wall. He leaned against Tich’s hand, when Tich gripped his jaw, helpless to stop himself looking for some scrap of comfort, and Tich’s index finger tapped, blaster-fire fast, against his cheek.

He wanted to say: I tried to ask for help, but trying to speak at all was a fresh agony. He winced, used to the fingers in his hair by now, and said nothing. They wouldn’t have done anything, anyway, even if he’d been able to plead for assistance.

And so Obi-Wan just stared forward, waiting for whatever they were going to do to him next.

#

Days passed. Vader had him dragged in and dragged out, but seemed to grow irritated and distracted when he realized that Obi-Wan could not speak. It took… significant effort before Vader believed that Obi-Wan was not just refusing to make a sound. Once he did, Vader ordered the troopers to take him back to the medical bay, for repairs.

Obi-Wan laughed soundlessly as he was dragged along. He’d always assumed Anakin would be pleased to never have to listen to him again. There was something amusing, darkly, about Anakin’s drive to return his voice.

Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t yet heard Obi-Wan screaming.

Nor would he, even if Obi-Wan’s voice were returned. Those thoughts chased each other around Obi-Wan’s head as they got closer and closer to the medbay. He hung between Cody and Booster, too damaged to walk under his own power, his legs giving finally halfway down the hall.

And it was a surprise, strange and jarring, when Cody hesitated and then shifted, movements oddly fluid for how stiff he normally moved, and just… lifted him. Cody had carried him off of battlefields before, too many times.

He’d joked, towards the end of the war, that it was getting to be a habit.

Perhaps it had. Perhaps it was muscle memory, the way Cody just pulled him up. It certainly was habit that had Obi-Wan dropping his head onto Cody’s shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of the contact, his eyes burning, all at once.

He wept not in front of Anakin. Wouldn’t. But the tears streaked down his face, unheeded, as Cody carried him into the medbay, finger tapping erratically against Obi-Wan’s skin. And Obi-Wan wanted to tell him it was alright, that Obi-Wan would find a way to get them all free, but he had no voice, no way to speak the words into being.

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff. 

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

.............................................................

The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son. 

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached. 

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen. 

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back. 

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you. 

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress. 

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant. 

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around. 

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.” 

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.” 

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?” 

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber. 

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view. 

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.” 

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal. 

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand. 

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip. 

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him. 

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.” 

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?” 

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.” 

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.” 

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.” 

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-” 

“Mom?!”  A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not. 

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses. 

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you? 

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck. 

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage. 

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice. 

“Everything you knew about my brother.” 

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.” 

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son. 

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?” 

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside. 

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage. 

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.” 

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.” 

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.” 

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?” 

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

[cafffine]

It’s great to see someone so proactive in confronting unconscious racial bias in their own writing. We all need to examine ourselves to make sure we do not perpetuate systemic racism, and your PSAs and removal of your story speak volumes about your understanding self-responsibility! One thing that I’m continuing to work on is Boba and Jango, and how I characterize their morality. I love them dearly, but Jango consented to the clones and abandoned them, and Boba leads a crime syndicate on Tattooine (plus, didn’t he try to sell a child bride in season 3-ish of TCW lmao?). They’re such great characters but they’re definitely criminals. At least they were forced into crime because of shitty circumstances? Anyway this really got away from me but I think what you’re doing is great, and it’s awesome that your words match up with your actions to confront racism in the SW fandom <3

hey anon thanks for reaching out it’s been so nice to hear from everyone! I am trying my best to do what’s right and address the personal biases I have that led to this, but it’s a work in progress and I’m way at the beginning right now.

In regard to the second half - I personally have not written much for Jango and almost nothing for Boba, but grey morality is a hard subject to work with. I will say that in general, characters of color are held to much higher standards of morality by fans, and when you compare the Fetts to people like Han who ignored the rebellion in favor of smuggling until he was forced into it, Anakin (as a jedi) who massacred the Tuskens, Qui-Gon who left a woman in slavery with not much remorse, Din Djarin, ect. Star wars is pretty chock full of characters who have done wrong but remain sympathetic and widely popular figures.

So I guess what i’m saying is, grey morality and negative character traits don’t have to make fictional characters (in the sw universe anyway) bad people (and in the case of the Fetts, ur right, a lot of the bad things they’ve done were not entirely their own choice/were acts of self preservation) and I think that as long as you acknowledge wrong doings, they can still be your protagonist and you can still lean into the many positive aspects that exist without any misrepresentation.

(hope none of that sounded condescending!! i’m sure you know most of this it’s just fun to have conversations about writing 😅)

[cosmoscourge-a]

The Post On How I Managed to Cram The Jedi and Sith Into Pokéverse

a ramble that is long overdue

In the beginning, there were always two halves of the Legendary of Balance, Equilipax: Ashla, the peaceful half, and Shokahn, the warlike half. They each sought to bring, well, balance to the tumultuous world of Dispara, Ashla through gentle and diplomatic methods and Shokahn through more, ahem…direct methods like fighting. Each recognized the need for the other, and for a time, they would work together against Arceus’ curse (though they didn’t know of a curse) to bring harmony to society. 

Until the Burning of Mustafar, the event that tore this all down.

Mustafar in the Pokémon universe currently exists as a volcanic wasteland in the outskirts of Igneo, home of the hardiest Ignean Draconids, the one place that all other Igneans--as famously tough as they are--would be hard-pressed to enter. But it wasn’t always that way. As in Star Wars canon, Mustafar was once a flourishing forest oasis teeming with life, and in the Pokémon universe, I take this even further. This place, now called Ya’khahanu Narimama or Mother of the Chaos Flame by the Draconids, was not just a place of life--it was the place of life, containing the last stretch of original land on which all life in Dispara originated. But it could very easily have become the place where all life in Dispara ended as well as began. For the life energy there began to overflow, upsetting the sacred balance between life and death in the world…

Narimama had been Ashla’s favorite place in Dispara, a land that she treated as though it were her own child. She knew that destroying the land was an option, but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing what she held most dear--and so she sought other methods to heal the suffering land. However, as she tried and tried in vain to heal it, Shokahn grew impatient with Ashla’s methods. Eventually, tired of waiting and believing Dispara on the brink of an irreversible crisis of excess life energy, Shokahn destroyed Narimama entirely. In doing so, he wiped out its ecosystem and its many unique species, and turned it into the volcanic wastes that it is today.

Ashla cried out, bereaved and enraged--the first time she had ever felt emotions that strongly in her entire existence. Shokahn retaliated, saying it was necessary to maintain the balance that they’d fought so hard for. He even taunted her, saying that she had advised so many people to let go their attachments in order to build better futures, yet she failed to let go her own attachment to the land that was about to destroy the entirety of Dispara. Finding this slight too hard to let go, however, Ashla created a race of godly dragons known as the Jedi to fight for Mustafar’s restoration. Shokahn, not wanting to be outdone, magically corrupted some of these dragons to create the Sith. From then on, Equilipax would not be one dragon with two Aspects of its personality, but rather two severed, warring Aspects who each became their own independent personalities. 

Thus did Dispara fall further into the curse. They had been partially shielded from it in the past thanks to Equilipax’s efforts--but with the two halves now at war, Dispara’s peoples were left at Arceus’ mercy.

The followers of these two halves of Equilipax believe their gods wholeheartedly. Ashla’s followers, known as the Dai Bendi (Dai Bendu singular), believe that Mustafar should never have burned and that there are still ways to transform it now. Shokahn’s followers, known as the Jensaarai (who are more morally grey rather than evil just like the Pokéverse Sith), believe that the destruction was necessary and Ashla is just throwing a fit over nothing. The Dai Bendi and the Jedi are very strict about who gets initiated into their order, asking them to go through trials proving their ethical worth.The Jensaarai and the Sith don’t care who they teach, refusing only those who threaten harm on dragons--but they go at one pace and one pace only and anyone who can’t keep up gets destroyed. And while it’s true that the Jensaarai path is more dangerous, which causes people to become consumed by their emotions, Ashla can be just as dangerous for the unwary--as too much of her causes people to lose their emotions entirely. The only thing they shared in common now was The Force, which was their religions’ name for the source of their power. 

Who is right here? It’s impossible to say. All that’s known for certain is that Anakin Skywalker, the Herald of Equilipax and the strongest Force user of all time, is prophesied to be the one to patch up this mess, but so far he’s doing a shit job. He’s supposed to make Equilipax whole again and restore true balance to Dispara. But right now he can’t see past his frustration with Ashla and her followers and is trying to pigheadedly get them to accept that Shokahn was right without even considering alternate arguments. Is this man ever going to learn and fulfill his destiny? Maybe sometime in the far-flung future, but certainly not now…