#atris x exile

[baranedizille]

Yet young

--------

When I learned Atris being into male exile is clearly written in the game (I never played the male) i was shocked, because I legimately thought she was into my fem exile as well?! And that her romantical attraction to the exile is supposed to be subtextual? Disappointing!

______

Anyway, I'm entering my "digital era". I've been scared of it for long, but then I figured out that I have nearly no problems with it lol

[nukbody]

Do you ever think of when they were little-

[whyamiheredude3]

Sketches from the other day

[ergomaria]

Miles To Go Before I Sleep - Ch. 15

Atris's obsession with understanding the dark side has ultimately led to the archivist's downfall. In a perfect galaxy, Meetra would be the bastion of light her friend needs to find a path out of that darkness and seek redemption. But the galaxy is far from perfect and Meetra is unsure if she can help Atris... or if she even wants to. As the Jedi Exile confronts this final part of her past, can she find new meaning in everything that she left behind?

Fueled by a fresh burst of rage, the Echani charged forward with renewed vigor as she jabbed her blade toward Meetra's face, trying to make her foe flinch before she whirled around and struck at the other woman's shoulder. The first strike was easily sidestepped and the second parried before the former General used that momentum to lunge forward and slash her opponent's hip. The hit drew a low hiss of pain as the surrounding Force roiled with seething resentment. Shrieks and howls filled the air as the holocrons voiced their approval, causing both duelists to fall back and refocus amid the tempting cacophony of voices. As Meetra caught her breath she examined her foe, noting that the archivist was sweating hard from exertion and favoring the wounds she'd received. Hope surged through the former Consular as she realized that she had the upper hand and could finish the duel before either of them was seriously injured.

Atris also recognized her disadvantage and positioned herself defensively even as her gaze brimmed with aggression. Sensing an opportunity to end the fight quickly, Meetra surged forward and prepared to kick out the Echani's legs, hoping to knock the other woman down and pin her in place with a lightsaber blade to the throat. Just as her boot left the ground she tasted the familiar tang of ozone in the air. Immediately abandoning her attack, she dodged to the side and stretched out one hand to summon the incoming Force lightning into her own body. As the electricity struck her palm she absorbed the full might of the attack, allowing it to surge through her for several seconds before harmlessly redirecting it into the floor.

Sparks still danced along Meetra's fingertips as she pleaded, "Atris, stop. This darkness isn't you!"

"It's what I've become!" Desperation crept into the Echani's voice as darkness coiled around her, the Force growing mind-numbingly cold. Extending her arm, she curled her fingers into a fist and smirked as she wrapped invisible pressure around her opponent's throat, using it to try and drag the other woman to her knees.

Resisting the urge to grasp at her neck in a useless attempt to pry the Force from her airway, Meetra held her breath as she concentrated on remaining upright and taking a single, arduous step forward. When it worked, she took another. Every movement made her feel like she was back on Dxun, trudging through mud that sucked down her boots and made her use twice the energy to move half the distance. At least the effort of putting one foot in front of the other gave her something to focus on as the oxygen deprivation made it increasingly difficult to think. As the former Consular trudged along Atton cursed colorfully, his desperation to help his friend flowing through the bond. It took most of the former General's strength to wave him away even as her gaze remained locked on Atris. For the first time since the confrontation began, she could see a flicker of fear in her former friend's eyes, put there by the sheer power of Meetra's will.

The grasp on the blonde's body lessened as the Echani's focus waned and the black spots swimming through her vision faded when she drew some thin breaths. Despite this relief, her arm still felt as though it weighed a hundred kilos as she reached up with leaden fingers and grasped Atris's wrist.

"Stop," Meetra rasped. "Atris, please."

The genuine, plaintive tone somehow reached the Echani and her mental grip on the other woman finally released, much to the holocrons' displeasure. Sucking in lungfuls of air, the former Consular sighed in relief as she regain full control of her limbs. But the peace didn't last as the darkness coalesced thicker and colder than ever before. Eyes narrowing, Atris glared at the hand grasping her wrist before jerking her own arm back and using her opponent's hold to her advantage. The brawling maneuver was wholly out of character for the esteemed archivist and it caught Meetra off-guard, effectively causing her to strike her own face. Distracted by the pain of a split lip she released her grip and stumbled back, instinctively bringing her lightsaber up to guard her vitals. An instant later the Echani descended on her foe from midair.

Wiping away the fresh blood, Meetra deflected the overhead strike with practiced ease. The strong block surprised Atris and she landed awkwardly, her boots skidding inelegantly even as she lunged forward for another hit. This was also knocked away and the sheer frustration of failure caused the Echani to lash out in a blind rage with a flurry of swings that lacked finesse but compensated with sheer ferocity. The number of blows raining down was almost enough to overwhelm the former General but she stood firm, parrying what she could and dodging the rest. As a particularly wicked slash nicked her forearm she grunted, rolling to the ground and springing to her feet just behind her opponent. Delivering a swift kick to the back of the other woman's knee, she made the joint buckle right before she swung her lightsaber around and held the burning plasma millimeters from Atris's throat.

"I said enough!" The Force permeated Meetra's voice, adding to the durasteel authority of an experienced battlefield commander.

From her position kneeling on the floor Atris glowered, the holocrons hissing and screeching in displeasure. She stared resolutely at her collection as she growled, "You lack the conviction to kill me."

"It's not conviction I lack," Meetra admitted. "I just don't want to see you dead."

Sympathy stayed the former General's hand in a show of mercy that the Jedi would have appreciated. But Atris was no longer a Jedi. Narrowing her eyes the archivist capitalized on her opponent's perceived weakness and dodged beneath the silvery blade the moment it wavered. Keeping her body low, she slid across the smooth floor with Force-enhanced speed until she was positioned directly behind Meetra. With a sneer of triumph, she leaped to her feet at the same moment that she stabbed her lightsaber directly at her former friend's back. Tone mocking she chided, "It's a pity I don't share your sentimentality."

"Meetra, no!"

For the longest instant, the room seemed to move in slow motion. Meetra sensed someone using the Force to sprint to her position even as she was paralyzed by the shock of this betrayal. The plasma of Atris's blade was uncomfortably hot against her skin and she braced herself for the inevitable agony of being impaled… yet the pain never came. Instead, she felt a bright swell of energy surround her body as it pushed her beyond the Echani's range. The holocrons howled and the air grew impossibly colder as Atris snarled her dissatisfaction and chased after her prey, her lightsaber humming as she aimed it at the other woman's heart. Before it could make contact another figure leaped between the pair, his own weapons raised to deflect the blow. But he never got the opportunity. Spotting a new target, the archivist grinned cruelly as she shifted her trajectory and plunged her blade directly into Atton's chest.

Read the whole chapter on FF.net and AO3!

[renegade-skywalker]

about me ~ my writing

my (old) poetry blog my cats🥰 ginger tabby: Kaito, 4 years old white&black: Chani, 7 years old white&grey tabby: Finn🌈2016-2022 (little love of my life)

Interview with the Vampire/Vampire Chronicles

In Her, I Had Eternity (Claudia/Madeleine, one shot, POV Madeleine)(AO3)

BG3/Gale x Tav fics (AO3 links)

Home is Wherever I'm With You

Another Night With You

Let Me Count the Ways

Experiments in Idle Pleasures

Forgive Me

Submission and Surrender

Sweetness of a Waking Dream

Heat of a Stolen Moment

A Soft Proposal

One of Many Mornings

Tav/OC Meta

Merit Meadowlark 1/2/3/4/5

Lyric/Durge 1/2

Kotor 2 / Atton x Exile fics (AO3 links)

On Call

A Fool's Wager

The Scoundrel and the Jedi

Best Left Unsaid

The Calm Before the Storm

Before You Go (Prompt: "I fucked up")

"You'd hate it here,"

"There are those who wage war, and those who follow them."

"Figured I'd find you here,"

"“It's like you've got this glow, but only when I see you out of the corner of my eye.”

Other Kotor 2 Fics

Out of the Abyss (my ~400k+ word still-ongoing magnum opus lol) (AO3)

A Curious Thing (this is Mira/Brianna but Atton/M!Exile is still implied; completed) (AO3)

Ghost in the Machine (rebuilding HK-47, Revan reveal) (AO3)

Dragon Age fics (older ones are on AO3, c. 2014)

What You Take With You (DA2, multi-chapter, in progress, Carver/Merrill)

The Rains of Highever (DA:O one shot, vengeful Cousland, POV Morrigan)

The Splendor of Lost Hearts (DA:I multi-chapter, completed. Blackwall character study)

more under the cut!

SW fics/meta/prompts (older, pre-2018) (AO3 links)

Warm (Finn/Rey)

Midnight Flight (Finn/Rey)(link is to the final chapter on tumblr but the post includes an entire fic directory and the AO3 link(s))

Fatal Flaw (Bodhi Rook/Galen Erso character study)

Like My Mother Before Me (Luke and Padme character study)

A Heavy Inheritance (Leia and Padme character study)

What I Meant to Tell You (Finn/Rey)

Free (Finn character study)

Random Kotor/SW meta posts

"Well he definitely gets that from me," (my most popular post for some reason...)

thoughts on kotor 2/TLJ/Atris and the Jedi

I'm a Mira/Brianna truther at heart

Vader recognizing Padme and himself in Leia

Luke Skywalker feels

Revan vs the Jedi Exile and the kotor-era Jedi Order

Kreia thoughts

Mical/The Disciple Appreciation Post

More Mical love

How Atton factors into Kreia's end game plan

Why Finn and Rey should have been co-leads in the sequel trilogy

My AO3 (all of my stuff is site-locked btw so you'll need to be logged in to see it all)

❤️ttfn :)

[cinderedrose]

yalls I have some angsty exile x atris for you

I still feel your breath upon my skin, like we snuck out under the endless constellation once again. We would stare at the ethereal splattering upon the sky together; with your hand laced in mine. That was so long ago… one, two, three… stars, I can't even count how long it's been! How long since you… you…

"Since I left you?" I hear your voice say. Your soprano tones ring in the air, in my mind, ripping at my heart- 

Go away. You betrayed me, you betrayed the jedi… 

"You miss me still, don't you?" You say again. I feel your hand on my chin, you had to reach up for I was taller, but your fingers are icier than the depths of my chamber. I shut my eyes, begging to drown in the darkness, letting it consume me, but your voice is still there. It still rings true.

"I don't regret it." 

I don't want to look at you.

"It's just habit-"

I snap at you, leaping from the welcoming darkness. War is taboo, I say. 

I feel you leaning closer, your eyes are empty, shadows, tar. I could only describe them as tar, and I feel the urge to wretch upon your clothes. 

I hate you.

"You wish you could. I've already replaced you." 

Shut up.

Your lips are brushing up against mine, like they did before you left… me… they suck the life outta me, I go white… I still yearn to devour your mouth, but it's that of a corpse, you're dead to me, exile. 

"He's so much better than you ever were. You kiss like a child." 

Go away- 

"No," You croon, and I can only shake. You're fake, fake fake fake fake- 

FAKE

"it's all your fault, Atris," I hear another say, though it is not you. My holocrons murmur and wail the thoughts that cause me to decay. 

(idea by @whyamiheredude3 she is very talented and has some very inspirational ideas :D)

[hnnny]

Just finished a commission for the lovely @revanchxst ! I super enjoyed working with them (and not just because their my emperor over on the tor hell discord). They requested a piece of their lovely Jedi exile (Qatya) and Atris sharing a tender moment as Atris returns her lightsaber and the two reunite after a very long time apart. I hope you all can enjoy this piece as well!

[tftor]

[coruscantexpat]

Bonds Unbroken - Interlude II: Exile

The Jedi Temple

Coruscant

3960 BBY — 3 months after the end of the battle of Malachor V

Even among the glittering skyscrapers and highrises of the Queen of the Core, the Jedi Temple shone brightly. Meetra gazed out the window of the shuttle, drinking in the graceful lines and sharp planes as they led up to the three central spires jutting into the sky. It wasn’t home — that would always be Dantooine — but it was a haven, a welcome respite for any roaming Jedi. Which only added to her mounting dread.

The shuttle circled the western tower as its astromech pilot waited for clearance to land. Beneath her, Meetra could see people streaming in and out of the Temple, too far away to tell if they were Knight, padawan, or Master. Hesitantly, she reached out, stretching her mind down toward theirs… and felt nothing. Not even a void, as though they were blocking her through the Force — just an absence where there should be none. Tears burned at the edges of her eyes, but she blinked them away as the shuttle began its descent. She’d be damned if she let the High Council see her cry.

Part of her was grateful they had given permission to land on the tower’s dock instead of forcing her to walk through the front doors. Another part of her knew the Council had allowed it to keep the proceedings secret. The droid pilot they’d sent to transport her supported that theory. God forbid anyone else beat witness to the shell of a Jedi.

Meetra stood as soon as the shuttle’s struts touched down on the landing pad. The mid-morning light reflected off the tower and into her face as the loading ramp folded down, forcing her to squint at the tarmac. One hand strayed to the lightsaber hilt dangling at her waist, but she caught herself and pulled it back. A sign of weakness would do no good in front of the Council — while they were unlikely to use it against her, neither would it win her any sympathy. She stepped down onto the tarmac, and the smell of the city hit her: the temple’s incense mixed with street food from the alleys and the faint fog of speeder emissions.

Above her, the astromech pilot tweeted from his place atop the shuttle, and Meetra turned to scowl up at him. “Where am I gonna go?” He chattered back, pitch noticeably higher, and then swiveled around before she could respond. Meetra rolled her eyes and turned away, her heart rising in her throat as she closed the distance to the pad’s entrance. The door slid open soundlessly, cool air rushing out to ruffle her hair. She breathed a shaky sigh and hesitated, the liminal space yawning like a chasm in front of her, before stepping through.

The door closed behind her, trapping her in a long corridor of suffocating silence. The walls towered over her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Meetra drifted down the hall, the slick floor like molasses beneath her boots. The door to the Council chamber loomed at the end of the corridor. The high ornate panels caught the light filtering in from the windows and filled the far end of the hall with dancing color. She passed through, her robes smattered with the flickering hues, as the doors open slid open.

The High Council chamber was the same as it had been for centuries: a spacious room with a high ceiling and circular in shape. A thin triangular pillar, half again as tall as Meetra, rose from the very center of the floor, twelve high-backed chairs arranged in a circle around it. Only five of the chairs were occupied — it had been several years since the Order had a full Council — and Meetra recognized every face. Vrook Lamar occupied the seat at her far left, his lined face etched in a permanent scowl; in all her twenty-nine years, he’d never looked at her with another expression. Zez-Kai Ell sat beside Vrook, his impressive mustache concealing much of his face, but the unease was clear in his eyes. In the middle, Kavar, and Meetra quickly shifted her gaze, unable to bear the disappointment on her former Master’s face. Next was Lonna Vash, by far the most impassive — she and Meetra had met on only a handful of occasions — and at the end, radiating barely suppressed fury, sat Atris, pale blue eyes bright and piercing.

Meetra stepped through the circle, head bowed, and came to a stop at the pillar. The five seated Jedi opposite her watched, silent. When the tension was almost unbearable, Zez-Kai Ell was the first to break it. “I confess, Surik, most of us did not expect you to return.” Vrook and Lonna glanced at Kavar, revealing which among them still had some small amount of faith in her.

“The Council summoned me; I came as soon as I was able.” Even to her ears, Meetra’s voice was flat. Like everything else since she’d lost the Force, the life had gone out of it. Since awakening aboard the Amberfall two weeks earlier, her senses were dulled: colors were more muted, sounds and scents less intense.

Her answer prompted an audible scoff from Atris, but the other Masters paid her no mind. Annoyed by their lack of a reaction, she sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “I am most surprised you did not follow your new master. Or did she leave you behind now you have served your usefulness?”

“Atris.” Kavar’s voice was soft, but commanding. He was the next youngest on the Council, but still some years Atris’ senior, and she deferred to him, though her scowl made it clear she would’ve like to continue her taunts. Her words were not without effect, either; the idea that Revan and Malak had purposefully left her to face the Council alone was not lost on Meetra. It was one of the few things that broke through the perpetual numb fog she’d been in since waking up.

“Meetra.” She glanced up, finding Kavar’s deep blue, almost violet eyes. “Why have you really returned?”

The quiet sorrow in his voice threatened to shatter her composure, and Meetra returned her gaze to the floor. “I came to accept the Council’s punishment.”

“For defying us?” Lonna leaned forward, but there was no judgement; as far as she was concerned, it was merely the reality of past events. “For following Revan and Malak to war?”

“No.” A flicker of heat accompanied the defiance in Meetra’s voice, and she lifted her gaze to meet Lonna’s without waver. “Not for that.”

Atris’ scowl deepened, her fingers clenched in the fabric of her sleeves. “Of course not.” Kavar glared sharply at her, and she settled back again, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Meetra ignored the barb, determined not to give her former friend the satisfaction. “I do not regret leaving to defend the people of the Outer Rim.” She faltered, gaze dropping again. “But I have made mistakes along the way.”

“That’s a word for it.” Vrook’s disapproval was almost palpable, and, unlike Atris, Kavar made no effort to check the old Jedi’s venom. ‘Do you know the effect you’ve had on those who remained, of the seeds of insubordination you’ve sown among the younger generation?” Disgust mingled with his anger now. “Your actions have tainted the Order’s reputation throughout the galaxy; we have no way to know when the people will completely trust us again. All because the three of you decided your justice was superior to our decision.”

“And I will not apologize for that.” Meetra stood straight now, shoulders squared and gaze steady. The anger, the outrage at Vrook’s words sustained her, gave her strength she hadn’t felt since she awoke. “Those people needed us — all of us. But you hid behind excuses, and if we hadn’t acted, the Mandalorians would have killed thousands more!” Her voice echoed off the walls, and she abruptly realized how loud she’d become.

Vrook’s face was thunderous; Atris, likewise, looked apoplectic, her cheeks and neck reddening with restrained anger. Kavar no longer looked at Meetra, his gaze fixed on the floor at his feet. After a long moment, Zez-Kai took control again. “Regardless of your motivations, the incident at Malachor V cannot be ignored. Some would argue it cannot be forgiven.” Atris’ head jerked up at this, haughtiness returning with the assumption her fellow Masters agreed with her. “Even now, I feel you do not fully understand the ramifications of your actions… and I fear you never will if you remain a Jedi.”

“We have reached a consensus.” Lonna settled back and folded her hands primly in her lap. “Meetra Surik: the High Council declares you an Exile, stripped of your rank and standing. You are forbidden from entering or seeking aid at any temple or academy, or from any individual within the Order.” She paused, and the barest glimmer of emotion crossed her face. “As you are no longer part of the Order, we require your lightsaber.”

The numb fog settled once again, and Meetra unhooked her lightsaber with mechanical practice. Unfair. The word cycled through her head on a continuous loop. The whole thing was unfair. She had defied the Council to save people, not to seek fame and glory. Sixteen years of her life, freely given to the people of the Outer Rim, and this was how the Order thanked her? Wasn’t it they who preached that a Jedi’s life was sacrifice, that their purpose was to serve and defend?

And then there were Revan and Malak, her friends, her comrades and family. She’d followed them willingly, pledged her service to their cause — shouldn’t they be standing here with her, facing the same punishment? Instead, they and the rest of the surviving Revanchrist had vanished, leaving behind a shattered planet and a broken Jedi. Had her friendship truly meant so little?

She had never been one for self-pity, and it quickly bloomed to anger, red heat cutting through the curtain of numbness. If the Council wanted to see her as defiant, she would give it to them. Meetra thumbed her lightsaber’s controls, the forward blade crackling to life. She had a moment to register the change on the Council’s faces — Atris’ triumph giving way to alarm, Kavar’s disappointment deepening, the rest dropping their disapproving masks to reveal shock — before she plunged the weapon to the hilt in the central pillar. It hung there, the blade’s hum still faintly audible within the stone, and Meetra gave it a last look before turning on her heel and striding from the chamber. None of them tried to stop her, not even Atris; she didn’t know if she wanted them to or not. The fog was rolling back in, and she wanted to be as far away from the Republic as possible before it settled completely.

Silence reigned in the chamber in the wake of Meetra’s departure. Vrook, Zez-Kai, and Lonna traded uneasy looks while Atris’ was laser-focused on the protruding lightsaber hilt and Kavar’s gaze remained on the floor. Lonna laid a cautious hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kavar. I know she wasn’t officially your padawan, but this cannot be easy.” He reached up to cover her hand with his, but didn’t meet her eyes. She squeezed gently. “I did not realize she would feel so… empty. I suppose the rumors are true.”

“They are not rumors.” Kavar’s voice was soft, misery weighing down his words. “I visited her on the Amberfall, before she awoke… It was like looking at a corpse. She breathed, her heart beat, but I could not… cannot feel her in the Force.” He closed his eyes, looking suddenly older. “She is like a stone in the stream now, and my heart breaks for her.”

“I do not understand this sentimentality.” Atris rose from her chair and crossed to the pillar. She pulled Meetra’s lightsaber free and held it out at arm’s length, glaring down at the cyan blade before she switched it off. “Everything she did flew in the face of our tenets and traditions, with no regard for our concerns. We have lost nothing of value.” Kavar stiffened, and Lonna turned an admonishing eye on Atris, but she ignored it. “She was not strong enough to follow our teachings, and neither was she strong enough to follow Revan.” Atris shook her head. “We should not have let her leave. Her influence could spread; before long we may hear that she has rejoined Revan. Or worse, become a martyr to her cause.”

“She was your friend, Atris,” Zez-Kai pointed out. “They all were.”

“I do not count traitors and fallen Jedi among my friends, Master Ell.”

“She has not fallen.” The other four turned to Vrook in surprise. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s the truth — she has lost the Force, but I do not sense the taint of the Dark Side on her. Some of us share your feelings toward Revan, Atris, but Surik isn’t her.”

“She is her dog.” The snide remark echoed around the chamber. Even Atris flinched at her own voice, but she continued. “She followed Revan’s every command. You cannot be sure her decisions were not influenced by the Dark Side.”

“Her actions were influenced by Revan, that I will grant you.” Lonna withdrew her hand from Kavar’s shoulder and sat back, suddenly introspective. “The question is where did Revan’s influence come from?” She glanced across at Zez-Kai. “Part of me fears our teachings hold some of the blame.”

Atris scoffed, but Kavar echoed Lonna’s words with a slow nod. “We should have told her.”

“We already have Revan to deal with, wherever she is. If we’d told her the truth, there’s a chance we’d only make another enemy for ourselves.” Vrook’s voice softened. “We’ve seen some of her fate, Kavar, as much as the Force will allow. She will survive.”

“Which is more than she deserves,” Atris interjected. The others ignored her.

“One day, we may be able to explain it to her and help her find a way to heal.” Zez-Kai shrugged, out of ignorance rather than malice. “Right now, she is not in a place to understand.” Kavar nodded, though it was clear the knowledge was no comfort. “Whatever comes, we must accept the Force’s will.” The others, even Atris, murmured in agreement, and Kavar lowered his face into his hands.

Full chapter available on AO3 and FFN.

[ohsoverylittlehoneybee]

It’s kind of easy to forget that theoretically by KOTOR canon Atris only had implied romantic feeling for Male Exile, when like 99% fandom content between Atris content and Exile is for female Exile. Hell, I forget sometimes when I play, because for any Exile, male or female, Atris gives of very strong bitter ex/unrequired love vibes.

[nukbody]

Best toxic yuri™ brainrot ft. my literal child

[whyamiheredude3]

A Meetra and Artis Sketch

Based off the photo below

Face closeups too

[ergomaria]

Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Ch. 01

Meetra scoffed, though her tone was mild. "You know, even when you're playing the part of the haughty Jedi who's too self-important for her own good, you're still stunningly beautiful."

The effect was instantaneous as Atris's nostrils flared and her pale cheeks flushed a fierce shade of pink. "Stop it, you have no right to say those things! You never did."

"You used to like them," Meetra breathed, clenching her jaw against the hurt that sat coldly in her stomach.

"That was when we were children. Before I truly understood the damage that you were doing to the Order. That you did to yourself."

"You're acting the same way that you did at my trial, like you expect me to apologize for something that I still think was necessary. And by the way, I'm still not sorry."

"And that right there is the problem, Meetra!" Standing from her chair, Atris strode over to the other woman. "You chose war over peace and passion over knowledge when you decided to meet the Mandalorian's aggression with violence of your own. That is not the Jedi way and yet you regret nothing."

"I have regrets." Meeting the Echani's silvery-blue gaze, Meetra explained, "Just because I did what I thought was necessary to defend the Republic doesn't mean that my decisions don't weight on me. I paid a price for my choices and I've learned to accept the consequences."

"You speak as though you made a small misstep and that the repercussions didn't echo throughout the galaxy." Disgust settled on Atris's features. "You used a superweapon, Meetra. You killed thousands."

"And every day I regret that's what it took to end the war, that thousands of sentients had to die in order to protect billions more! I regret it almost as much as the fact that the war ruined everything between us. Most of all, I regret not sitting down with you before I left so that I could explain…"

"Stop!" Holding up her hand, Atris shook her head. "There's nothing you could have said that would have excused your choice to leave in search of battle and bloodshed. And there was never anything between us, at least not the type of love that you wanted. A Jedi does not love like that."

Despite the disappointment that carved its way down to her bones, Meetra didn't back down. "There's nothing dangerous or poisonous about love, Atris."

"The type of love you refer to leads to attachment, which in turn leads to fear, anger, jealousy, and the dark side. You're living proof of all of these things."

Meetra's voice was practically a whisper. "I loved Revan enough to believe in his cause with every fiber of my being, and I loved the Republic enough to die for it. How is that wrong?"

"And you did die because of your decisions. You died thousands of times within your soul, once for every life you took. I can feel it, a gaping emptiness where there was once a promising Jedi." Turning her back on the other woman, Atris sounded almost apologetic as she murmured, "You're a shadow of the person you used to be."

"There were consequences and I accept them. But none of what you said proves that love is wrong. For years I loved you even after you grew to hate me."

Whirling around, Atris gasped at the implication. "A Jedi does not hate."

"That's a shame because I'd really rather you hate me than be indifferent towards me."

(Read the whole chapter on AO3 - Miles to Go Before I Sleep Ch. 01)

[jackalopey]

i rarely use this account and my dash is dead but i want to change that. so! hi! i’m looking for more mutuals. i’m mostly a swtor blog, but i do post about kotor as well. this is my main reblog-blog, and i mostly share things related to my ocs (i also have @lnhumanity where i post my art, mostly)

i’m looking to follow people who:

post about swtor (bonus points for consular, inquisitor, jaesa, ashara, satele, marr, theron or lana focus)

post about kotor (bonus points for f or nb revan, revan/bastila or atris/exile)

writes their swtor legacy, or just talks about their swtor legacy/ocs a lot

isn’t '[x faction] did nothing wrong’ (so no blind jedi, sith or mando apologism. thinking they’re neat, liking characters from those factions, being interested in their lore and whatever else is 100% fine and i would love to see your posts, i just dont like it when people bend over backwards to say their faves are perfect)

so if that’s you like/reblog this and i’ll check you out. thank u for ur time

[tarrevizsla]

kotor fic ideas that currently live rent free in my head

mando!revan au, i talk about this one a lot but the basics are revan was raised by the mand'alor instead of being republic born (currently in progress)

revan bastila and malak are reincarnated as aspects of the force to replace the father son and daughter (in progress but i haven't worked on it in a while)

exile!tarre fic: the exile is tarre vizsla who is adopted into the mandalorian clans after being severed from the force (plotted mostly but not at all written)

kotor prequel tv show: basically the rise and fall of darth revan, i have 3 seasons planned and leitmotifs exist as well as a few major scenes (in progress!)

sith!exile: meetra chooses revan and malak instead of going back to the jedi council (partially plotted, just going off vibes)

canderous & malak angsty parallel fic: revan has heard people promise to follow them through light and dark before (again, just vibes here)

sad sad sad 5 + 1: the people who betrayed revan and the one who never did (plotted but not written)

everyone figures out who revan is before they do and nobody tells them for a variety of reasons, the only funny fic idea i've ever had (i have some dialogue)

the other revan & tarre concept: they're the same age and trained together, tarre is ultimate's immediate successor (plotted but not written)

part two: not at all started

something something atris x exile lovers to enemies

fluffy bastila revan and carth are best bros raising a kid together

lesbianism by juhani preface by visas marr

juhani ordo