#JANGO Records

[somestorythoughts]

What kind of soul do you have?

Star Wars AU (or Star Trek or LOTR or something DnD, basically this works for anything where multiple sentient species are running around) where pretty much everyone has an apparent soul but every species has something different.

Since I am experiencing Star Wars brain rot I will use that for examples:

Humans have daemons a la Golden Compass.

Twi'leks as a species take "the eyes are windows to the soul" literally.

Kel Door's (I like that's Plo Koon's species) don't have soulmates but they do have soulmarks that represent them.

Kaminoans have auras that exist on a wavelength they can see but humans can't.

Nautolians' souls are shaped like them and follow them like a ghost.

Someone's soul glows abstract patterns in their skin. No one knows what's up with Yoda's species. There's an avian species somewhere who's soul is something they sing. Other's carry their souls in their hands.

Even when two species have similar souls the rules will be different so that no 2 species have the exact same thing going on. Kaminoan's aren't the only ones with "auras", but the other species has their's in a completely different wavelength and they can't actually see each other's souls. There's a hundred ways to carry your soul in your hand but everyone who can is terrified of loosing it. One species has 2 shadows, 1 is the soul and one is the regular shadow, but three systems away someone else's shadows are their souls.

There's one species that says they don't have souls. No one's sure if they're telling the truth but everyone's a little spooked.

Someone who's got multiple species in their ancestry will have a soul that follows the rules of one of those species, but no one knows what determines which rules their souls follow.

[loveoaths]

this but it’s din djarin

better yet: send all the main mandalorians back. the force realizes that shit is fucked so it drastically over corrects by sending the Force-users’ natural enemy, the mandalorian, back in time to whoop some ass, except none of them know jack shit, also what’s a jedi, also also what’s a sith, whatever we’re just gonna start shooting

the best time travel fic trope is “guy who knows nothing goes back in time and somehow fixes everything.” no more darth vader traveling back to the republic era to change things. just drop din djarin in the temple so he can cock his gun so he can point a gun at yoda and say “a wizard named luke skywalker sent me and your grandson here to kill a guy named sith. sith m please raise your hand” and the whole order explodes because did you say luke fucking skywalker

[djbetodiass]

SUPERSONIC #31 by DJ BETO DIAS

01 – Jessica Skye – Virgo Rising (Extended Mix) [PLATOON]02 – Virak, TCKS – Siento Libre (Band&dos Remix) [ADESSO MUSIC]03 – ANOTR – Relax My Eyes (BLUPRNT Remix Extended)04 – Nu Shooz – I Can’t Wait (Sgt Slick’s Discotizer ReCut)05 – Butch & Nic Fanciulli – I Want You (Extended Mix)[DEFECTED]05 – DJ Falcon – Honeymoon (Sgt Slick 2022 ReCut)06 – PNAU, Troye Sivan – You Know What I Need (Shadow…

[twinterrors29]

Alpha-17 is returned to the past, at a point a few years before his creation, from soon after Order 66 and all that ensued

his first step, naturally, was to kill Jango Fett

from there, it was only logical for him to step into the man's life as a bounty hunter (he's got to eat somehow, and it's not like he doesn't more than live up to the Prime's reputation)

but then, despite refusing the bounty on Vosa, is still cornered by a very recognizable Sith and ominously offered the Kamino job

he cannot let himself hesitate to accept it

his first task is to recruit a group of 'trainers', ones he believes are loyal to him (or can be made so)(and, if not, that he can easily dispose of) and brings them all to Kamino, and bides his time

he waits until the first batches of his siblings are born, playing along about just long enough so that his supporters can watch and learn how to continue their operation without requiring the Kaminoan's involvement

and then he strikes, removing them from the picture, and immediately modifies the cloning contract on record:

the clones he's raising are all for the Jedi, and in the name of the one Jedi he actually trusts them to

so when Kenobi is lured to Kamino by the Sith's machinations several years later, it's only Alpha-17 waiting for him in the rain on that landing platform

and all he says in greeting is, "Kenobi, good, you finally made it. Here's the boys, we're killing the Sith, are you coming or do you need any more time to prepare"

and proceeds to not wait for the man's answer as he drags him along through the final preparations for their mass departure for Coruscant, dodging meaningfully addressing any of his questions by fobbing him off onto his curious and delighted younger siblings who only have vague ideas of Alpha-17's plans

when they arrive, he plays along with the Chancellor just long enough to get close so he can cut the head off that snake directly, along with several other key Imperial Senators and ambitious would-have-been military personnel

he immediately declares Kenobi the Emperor to a crowd of aghast politicians (and an equally shocked Kenobi)

Anakin, hearing this news, swiftly returns from the solo mission that the late Chancellor had dispatched him on, furious that his Master has taken over the political system without inviting him to help 💔

he's equally swiftly mollified when, upon his arrival, Alpha-17 intercepts his impending meltdown by immediately turning him back around to be dispatched on missions important to securing their new Empire

[varpusvaras]

If Fox could go back ten years in time and look at the barely twenty-year-old himself in the eyes and tell him that hey, you have a home office, his younger self would look back at him and tell him that he has lost his mind.

It's such a small thing to call someone crazy over, but for the Fox back then, even having an apartment he could be secure about was a big deal. Having an apartment big enough to have a home office? Having a job secure and safe enough that he could work from home? Absolute lunacy.

There Fox still is, now, sitting behind his desk in his home office and looking out of the window towards the trees blooming in the back garden.

That barely twenty-year-old Fox would've lost his mind if he'd see the place where he lives now. Hell, any version of Fox before the age of twenty-five would lose their minds. Even now, Fox remembers the cramped rooms with at least five other kids, sometimes his brothers, sometimes not. He remembers how all of this stuff could with inside one drawer and one box, because that had been the amount of stuff he had been allowed to have. Living in a place where he could have his own bedroom, a home office, and multiple other rooms to spare still?

All of that had been a simple, too good to ever be true-dream.

One that he is living now.

Who is he lying to? Fox at twenty-six had lost his mind after seeing the place for the first time. At that point he had been living on his own for a while, and not in a bad place either, but still. It had been...almost too much.

The way Bail and Breha had looked at him with soft eyes after Fox had asked if it would really be alright for him to have a home office had almost been too much.

They would've given him at least ten home offices if Fox would've just asked. Fox knows that.

Sometimes, Fox thinks that he is getting more than he deserves.

Not that he isn't working hard, or hadn't been working hard for his own success. He had, with too much cheap coffee and by scouring the grocery stores for expiring products and by studying through every waking hour and working through half of the hours he should've been sleeping. He had done it all, and it had gotten him here, in it's own way.

Now he can have the good coffee and sip it patiently, while he stops looking out of the window for a moment and attaches the floor plans and the concept pictures to the email and sends them away. He hopes that the customer is happy, now. The job had been interesting and quite fun with all the challenges, but he had other jobs too that he needed to work on, so he simply couldn't spend more hours on drawing entirely new pictures and doing all the math again because the customer had suddenly decided that they liked radius windows better to the picture windows instead-

Right on cue, his phone starts to ring.

Fox groans.

"Seriously?" He mutters, picking the phones up. "That was fast."

The record for the fastest call back he had received before this had been what, five minutes? It had barely been two minutes now, so there must be something egregious that he had managed to completely overlook, somehow.

He takes one last sip of his coffee, before he answers.

"Coruscant designs, Fox Organa speaking", he says.

"Hello, Mr. Organa." The voice that comes from the speaker is not the voice of his customer, and Fox blinks in surprise. Had he actually forgotten to see who had been calling? There's only a number on the screen when he quickly glances at it. "Is now a good moment to talk? I'm afraid that his would be rather time consuming."

"Depends on what this is regarding", Fox says. "I'm sorry, can I ask who this is?"

"Oh, right, my apologies", the voice says hurriedly. "This is agent Strass, I'm calling on behalf of Child Protective Services. Could I ask you if it is correct that your biological father was someone called Jango Fett?"

Oh, this is already not going how Fox would like any phone call to go. No matter how many years it has been by now, just hearing the words Child Protective Services makes his skin crawl, and the name Jango Fett makes his head hurt.

Those two combined have never promised anything good.

"I do want to make a correction, agent Strass, before we get any futher", he says, trying his best not to grit his teeth. "Jango Fett was my donor. I have never met him in person, nor has he ever had custody of me at any point during my life, nor does he even know that I exist."

"Oh", agent Strass says. They sound rather young, and Fox wonders if this is one of the first times they're making this type of call. "You're still listed as a genetic match to him through a DNA-test."

"I am, but I did not make that test to be in contact with him", Fox says. "I made it so I could be sure that my siblings were biologically related to me."

"Of course, of course", agent Strass says, and Fox can hear them turning some papers over on the other end of the call. "Now, I understand that this is a bit of an unique situation, since you do not have a prior relationship with your biological father, but we have received custody of a child that is, according to a DNA-test, also the child of Jango Fett."

Even though Fox already knows that it is the Child Protective Services calling, he is still surprised by the words.

"Have they been removed from the custody of Fett?" He asks.

"According to our records, no, a third party had a custody of him", agent Strass says. "They had done a DNA-test for the child themselves, and shared the results with us."

Fox can't believe this.

Someone is still using Fett as a donor? Or Fett is has suddenly decided to return from the dead and make more kids, but Fox doesn't think that is plausible. Fox is nearing thirty, and so are most of his siblings that he knows of, and the youngest he knows are still way past twenty. He really, really hopes that the child in question is in their late teens at the very least-

"How old is the child?" He asks.

"According to our information, three months", agent Strass says.

-and Fox hopes for the world to be healing are instantly burned down.

"Like I said, I understand that his is an unique situation", agent Strass continues talking, "but since we have the information on the child's biological family, it was decided that we would first reach out to you, to see if there would be anyone willing to foster the child, before we would turn to seek out long-term fostering options from unrelated people-"

Agent Strass's voice fades somewhere into the background, as Fox thinks. He thinks of the cramped rooms, he thinks of his drawer and box and the small amount of things he had in them, he thinks about his brothers, coming and going, being replaced with kids that were strangers, that would also leave if Fox ever managed to become friends with them. He thinks about the times it would be him leaving, thinks about how sometimes he had not even had a suitcase or a backbag, and had instead packed everything into plastic bags and dragged them around, he thinks of the drawer and the box and-

Fox looks out of the window, to the back garden with blooming trees, that he can see from his home office. His office, that he could have multiple of, and how they still wouldn't be out of space, and-

"Yes", Fox says.

"-in case that- excuse me?" Agent Strass stumbles a bit with their words.

"Yes, we will take them. Him. The child", Fox tries not to stumble over his own words as he hurries to speak. "We will take him. What do we need to do?"

Bail and Breha had been through adoption agencies already. They have been cleared to be fit to adopt and foster. Fox has not, but maybe he could ge through one if he applies right now, maybe two adults with qualifications would be enough in the meantime-

Agent Strass talks for a long, long time, and Fox now hangs onto every word with all the attention he has.

Agent Strass tells him to come to the office on Thursday. Fox cleares his whole day immediately.

The call ends almost an hour later, and by that time, his customer has tried to call him six times, and has left three emails. Fox sends them a message of three lines about emergency and sends it without checking if he even typed any of the words correct.

Then he sits down and he breathes.

He just sits there and breathes for a very long time.

"Alright", he murmurs to himself, finally. He needs to go ask Breha if she is free on Thursday, Bail at least only has work then until noon-

Oh. Right.

Fox stands up, and he walks to the other end of the floor, and knocks on the door of Breha's office.

"Come in, love." At any other time Fox would've been really endeared over the fact that Breha could recognise him from the way Fox knocks, but now he has too many other things in his mind.

Breha turns around on her chair as Fox slips in.

"Hello", she says and smiles, but her smile drops a bit when she sees whatever expression it is that Fox has on his face. "Is something wrong? Fox?"

Fox takes a deep breath.

"I've done something", he says. "Without asking you and Bail first."

Breha tilts her head.

"Have you sold the house and decided to move to Antarctica?" She asks. Fox shakes his head. "Then why do you look like you're about to uproot us all?"

"I agreed to have a baby", Fox says.

Breha blinks.

"What?" She asks.

"Not with anyone else", Fox rambles. "With you, I mean, to get a baby with you, I said that we could get a baby but I didn't ask-"

"Fox." Breha stands up, and Fox snaps his mouth shut. "Calm down, alright? Breathe in, and sit down. I feel like this is not a conversation to be had while standing up."

She takes his hands, and walks him over to the other chair next to hers that she keeps for visitors, and she lets Fox slump down on it for a good while before she gives him an expectant look.

Fox breathes in, breathes out, and starts explaining.

--- ---

They go to the office on Thursday.

Even arrives on Saturday.

His things are packed neatly into a little blue suitcase with cartoon ducks on it, and he is dressed nicely into clean overalls and a light coat, and has new, tiny shoes on his little feet.

Fox has only one, slightly tattered picture of himself as a baby, and he feels like he is staring at a live version of that picture when Even is taken out of the car and given to him.

Bail leans over, and he smiles at Even, who does a little smile back.

"He has the same forehead curl as you do", he comments, and brushes Fox's hair gently out of the way.

Fox can only answer with a nod.

He looks at the suitcase, and he thinks of the plastic bags and the drawer and the box.

Breha puts her arm on his back. Fox thinks about the cramped rooms and the drawer and the box as they walk upstairs and go to the room right next to their bedroom, with light green walls and vines growing on the wall outside the window, with a little cot and shelves and multiple drawers for only one kid.

Even's eyes dart around the room for a bit, before he looks back up at Fox. His tiny fingers grab at the front of Fox's shirt, and he smiles at Fox with a gummy smile.

Fox hoists him higher, presses his face against the little dark curls on Even's head, and he pushes the drawer and the box away.

(He only remembers that he had already agreed on things to do on Saturday, when Thorn calls him three hours later.

"Where are you?" He asks. Fox brings the phone further away, and takes a picture, which he sends to Thorn.

"Home", he answers.

"What are y- what the fuck is that?"

"It's a baby", Fox answers.

"I know it is a baby! Why do you have a baby?"

"Because I do now."

"That doesn't explain anything, where did you get it? You weren't pregnant!"

"How do you know I wasn't?" Fox asks.

Even is sleeping on him, and he makes a little snort and curls just a little closer to Fox. Fox smiles, and does not listen to anything Thorn is saying anymore.)

(Modern AU co-parented with @t3mpest98!)

[feybarn]

Ha! Bet you thought I'd forgotten about my little prompt request. I did NOT! I just intimidated myself by trying to come up with full fledged stories for everything. NOPE. This is about getting back into the habit of writing! We are writing what comes to me, so here we come back with a nice, short snippet.

Uhhhhhh punch in the face Kenfetti meet cute @queenaelinwildfire

“Kark!” Jango reeled back, bringing his hand to his now bleeding nose.

Oh, that was broken. Definitely.

The instinct to lunge forward and into the fight itched beneath his skin, but Jango restrained himself. He was trying to not be noticed right now. A scuffle would be.

The kid in front of him snarled, holding onto the helmet he’d just smacked into Jango’s face with one hand, the other hand gripping tight the blaster pointed at Jango.

“What the kriff was that for?” Jango demanded, eyeing the blaster warily. He could probably get the blaster away from the kid—and he couldn’t be older than nineteen—but that would put him in range of the helmet the kid was using as a bludgeoning instrument.

“What the kriff are you doing in my room?” the kid shot back.

The room was supposed to be empty. Jango had double checked the inn’s records and this room had been left unmarked. Apparently that wasn’t quite as accurate as the records indicated it was. It looked like someone had had the same idea he had.

“You paying for it, kid?” He ripped a piece of his shirt and used it to try to stem the bleeding from his now broken nose. That had been a solid hit.

Kid just bared his teeth. “Not a kid.”

“Not an answer,” Jango pointed out. “Something tells me that you’re not supposed to be here any more than I am. So how about you put down that blaster and the two of us handle this like civilized people.”

Raised voices from down the hallway had tension running down Jango’s back. He was without his armor—and that was the last time he tried to go incognito—and had no significant weapons to speak of besides his own westar. Jango had killed more than a few people with his bare hands… well, he didn’t fancy taking on three fully armored kyr’stad hunters as he was.

Jango took a step into the room, shutting the door behind him; his assailant stepped back, keeping the blaster pointed unerringly at Jango.

“You going to start a fight?” Jango asked. He really did not need that right now.

The kid narrowed his eyes, but shook his head. He lowered the blaster, but didn’t put it away, eyeing him with obvious wariness. HIs gaze flicked behind Jango to the door and Jango suspected he was listening for the same thing that Jango was, the kyr’tsad hunters coming closer.

Jango had been aware that he hadn’t been the only one they were hunting, but he hadn’t known who the other target was. He suspected that now he did.

He wondered what the kid had done to get on their radar. He dismissed the thought. If kyr’tsad was hunting him, then that made them allies.

Jango could use all the allies he could get.

[cabezadeperro]

wip wednesday

The commandos stay in the main body of the ship, and so does Seventeen, but Kenobi steps behind him into the cockpit, takes a seat in the copilot chair, hood still on. It hides his face from view: Jango presses his lips together and starts his pre-flight checks, the vessel coming to life all around him.  It takes Kenobi almost half an hour to say anything, which may be a new record for him. He waits in silence while Jango finishes prepping the shuttle for departure, listening quietly to Jango’s curt conversation with Control. He watches Jango input the jump coordinates into the nav computer, hands primly linked and on his lap, his long fingers invisible within his long sleeves. Jango can see the shadow of his pale face in its reflection on the transparisteel viewport, floating ghostly in the dark.  They’re given the go ahead. Jango gets them off the ground, the shuttle creaking alarmingly all around them. It settles slightly once they get higher, the Republic’s base and the nearby mines becoming pinprick points of light in the dark, the sun visible to the east like a flash of molten gold in the black night sky. He misses his ship.  The nav computer finishes its calculations right before they finally break atmo. Jango stabilises the ship, redirecting power to its sublight engines, putting some distance between them and the planet’s gravitational pull and the Republic vessels standing guard in orbit. “I have a bad feeling about this,” Kenobi says, voice sudden and unexpected in the quiet of the cockpit.  Jango eyes him. He snorts. He reaches for the level over his head, and they jump.

[absolxguardian]

The new book Rise And Fall of the Galactic Empire, which is an in-universe history book, provides some lore that I think provides very interesting background context to that Tay'lor Spiff post. (I know there's a Republic era pop-star that was a Taylor Swift easter egg in the last issue of the Jango Fett comic series, but the fact she's a Twi'lek makes me feel like she can't be a full Taylor Swift expy- because she wouldn't be a part of the dominant racial group.)

Set alongside the SAGroup was the Coalition for Progress, which in many ways fulfilled similar roles and responsibilities relating to the adult population of the galaxy. Initially one of the smallest groups within COMPNOR, Progress—as the name was often shortened to—was sometimes greeted with a degree of trepidation by Imperial citizens and planetary governors. Much of this stemmed from the actions of the group within Progress designated to deal with art and culture. Progress created a very narrow definition regarding acceptable art, music, or performances that could be held or showcased in public. The result was a funding collapse in artistic pursuits and the blacklisting of some extremely high-profile artists, performers, and musicians who fell afoul of the new regulations. This included some of the leading gonk-rock groups of Bormea sector, who regularly had their venues closed or raided, and the overtly anti-Imperial band Red Shift Limit. Furthermore a musician from Naboo named Palo Jemabie was imprisoned at a labor camp by the Empire for a musical performance described—without detail—by his criminal record as “deviant.” This situation was particularly complicated as various planetary governors had previously been patrons and supporters of those who were now banned and could no longer enjoy their work.

[...]

The SAGRecreation group in particular was highly adept at identifying potential role models within various spheres of sport and culture who might appeal to younger citizens. Grav-ball already had an existing widespread appeal in the galaxy, but the Empire took the extra step of incorporating it into various military academies and recruiting some of its most famous stars as examples of what both physical prowess and loyalty to the Empire could mean. Broadcasts of grav-ball tournaments on the holonet were often accompanied by recruitment messages that featured popular players, and Grand Moff Tarkin was sometimes seen in the crowd for games that took place on Coruscant, though it remains unclear whether he actually had any interest in the sport.

This is clearly inspired by how sports and the arts were treated within real life fascist regimes- grav ball is space American football, there's an entire middle grade book about that. Given the position the kind of country pop Taylor Swift makes in our current cultural hegemony- the Empire isn't considering it "degenerate music". So Spiffies (specifically young people from wealthy Core families who'd be the only ones able to get away with posting stuff like that on the Holonet) insistence that Tay'lor is actual a force sensitive rebel sympathizer is even more ridiculous, when her boyfriend is actually part of Imperial propaganda. However at the same time I feel like there does have to be some poor ISB agent who has to check all of Spiff's lyrics to make sure there aren't actually secret messages like some of her fans claim.

[phoenixyfriend]

Thought- in the terracotta warriors thing, you mentioned that the Jedi archeologists brought in a specialist in mando iconography to try and work out what’s going on with the 501sts symbols- what if that outside specialist is jaster mereel? Could be pre becoming the mand’alor, could be just his side job, but either way he spends a few years studying it all and getting used to being the only mando in a base camp full of Jedi, makes friends, has academic discussions and disagreements, steals someone’s holopad to try and use the link to the Jedi archives to read all the things on tarre visla, gets into an actual argument, reconciles with agreeing to help with a historical reenactment of a Jedi mandolorian war, gets Madame nu’s comm number, introduces his new son to his comm bff who argues historical nitpicks with him, brings jango to the next summer at the site, clones react to jango somehow and/or there’s a few tubies in there who look distractingly like jango and/or someone has their helmet off and jango has a breakdown over it looking like a family member? And so on and so on

Context: Sleeping Soldiers AU

See, I don't really subscribe to the "halfway to archaeologist!Jaster" fanon. I'm especially reticent to engage with the Jocasta ship, honestly.

But... okay, here's the thing. It does feel pretty incongruous with how I've written Jaster thus far. I can believe him having like. A 'classical' education. Not actually tutored like a noble, but that he sought out the same subjects as an adult to make sure he understood how to rule once he started having a proper political angle. He's a history nerd in the way that a particularly political/philosophical aristocrat of the 18th century would have been.

Military history, philosophical history, political and even some arts... but not actually in an archaeological sense.

(Also, it raises my hackles because it's one of those things that feels like it's heavily associated with the whole "True Mandos Were Best Mandos" crowd.)

It also really depends on the era! Tarre makes more sense than Jaster, just because of the timescale! The soldiers are millennia buried by the time Jaster is born! That said, even Tarre is a few millennia late but... makes more sense than Jaster.

Most likely, there are historians and archaeologists coming by every few centuries, as new generations encounter the issue, and older analyses are lost in the depths of the archives. Frequency tapers off after a few millennia, but... by the time Jaster is around?

It's 100% a New Mandalorian with an art history doctorate. (With a military symbolism specialty, in this case.)

It's probably not a New Mando if it's an Early On moment, but it probably is a New Mando if the Jedi start getting Weird Vibes and investigating the soldiers in the decades leading up to the Prequels.

Would the New Mandalorians know more than the traditionalists? Not necessarily. Would they know less? Actually, no.

I firmly believe that the New Mandalorians are taught about their histories in a "German kids learn about WWII atrocities, going on field trips to historic sites of said horrors, so their teachers can stress that they don't repeat the mistakes of the past" kind of way. I imagine the New Mandos would have plenty of research and records in regards to actual history, with plenty of museums and such. Part of maintaining pacifism is ensuring that the coming generations understand what led them to pacifism in the first place.

Is this thousands of years in the past, and thus difficult to research? Yes, but the traditionalists would have that same problem.

More of them, even. If the New Mandos have been around for seven hundred years, like Legends claims, then the traditionalists have probably have lost a lot of history through various battles and bombings, while the New Mandalorians, while not entirely escaping large scale destruction and such attacks, are much more likely to have protected and maintained their sites, simply by not courting war as a matter of culture. The traditionalists, meanwhile, would have had a much stronger emotional and cultural attachment to legends and themes, though I'll admit those are probably prone to revisionism, much like real-world folklore and mythology.

As @atagotiak put it:

Ehhhh. The traditionalists do care about legends and history and stuff. Often in an idealized way, sure. But you could argue that they’d have more reason than new mandos to be into these stories. Which, to be clear, isn’t like, saying that Jaster is definitely a part-time historian or anything like that. It’s just I don’t think one side would have an advantage over another. (edited)

So the New Mandos and Trad Mandos are probably on an even playing ground, insofar as skill and resources and knowledge go.

But by Jaster's time, the Jedi would have more reason to think the New Mandos would cooperate. No real downside to asking them when it comes to knowledge/skill, and an upside in terms of 'not getting shot when asking.'

As Tia said:

And even if we assume Jaster is a big history nerd and would be receptive to the Jedi (and tbh there’s even less indication of the latter) there’s no reason to think the Jedi would know that.

So yeah, when the soldiers start having Vibes And The Force Becomes Suspiciously Active on that level... New Mando archaeologist, definitely.

[batshieroglyphics]

[FIC] Been Through the Darkness ~ Star Wars Prequels ~ Feel the Change in the Wind ~ pre-JastObi ~ Teen

Title: Been Through the Darkness Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Author: Batsutousai Series: Feel the Change in the Wind Rating: Teen Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Jaster Mereel Warnings: Alternate Universe, time travel, canon-typical violence, Jedi culture positive, True Mandalorian culture positive, danger to children, Death Watch, Tor Vizsla being an asshole, character death (it's Tor) Summary: Jaster hadn't expected to see Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi or his feral student again, but it turns out it is a very small galaxy. Event: @jastobiweek 2024

Jango came over to join him, kneeling on the cushion next to him as Jaster opened the first file in the packet, which was a video. It opened in a dark room filled with the shadows of bodies. Someone was crying quietly nearby, and someone else breathed out a curse in Mando'a. A door opened, flaring bright light through the room, and three beings in armour stepped into the room. One stayed by the door, but the other two strode forward, bodies shifting as they got out of the way. "You should all be honoured!" a voice called in Republic Basic, as the two beings stopped moving in what was probably the centre of the room, assuming who- or whatever was recording was at the farthest point from the door. "You are in the presence of your Mand'alor!" The lights flared to life in the recording, and the entire crowd flinched, the recording jerking like it, too, had been surprised by the sudden light. Jaster felt his eyes widen as he recognised the armour of one of the two beings in the centre of the room, their back to the recording device, and his certainty crystalised when Tor said, "You are honoured, for you have been chosen, deemed suitable to join our cause: that of true Mandalorians, of the Death Watch. You will learn to fight, to survive, to be conquerors. You will never again find yourselves to be weak. Your tears will dry up, for you will have no cause to shed them. "And, to those among you who show the greatest potential, an even greater honour awaits you: I will welcome you into my own clan, name you my own children. You will be trusted as leaders, commanding hundreds in the war against the Cowards and the Faithless, those who hide behind their false Mand'alor and the accursed Republic. We will erase those who are too weak, too afraid, from the history of Mandalore, as has ever been our way. "You will be my Faithful, training in secret, until the day we can step out into the light light and take what is ours!" And then Tor raised a fist above his head, revealing a hilt, which lit with a burning black blade: the Darksabre. "I alone hold this artefact, this relic of Mand'alore past, and it proves me, not that pretender as the true Mand'alor! With it, I will lead us into our glorious future!" The other armoured being standing with Tor motioned with their hands, and the crowd hesitantly started cheering. The recording panned slowly around, and Jaster flinched as he realised that every member of the crowd was a child, many with signs that they'd been crying recently, almost all of them with visible bruising, cuts, or torn clothing.

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[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

Every once in a while I see someone confidently state that mandalorian culture was based on maori culture and, given that legends writer is on the record saying she was thinking of celts and tcw’s writers are on the record saying they were thinking of vikings- is there some other thing I am missing, as my knowledge of SW lore is not comprehensive, or it is exclusively rooted in Tem playing Jango and Boba?

[barriss-and-coffee]

Star Trek AU where all the Fett clones come from Jango getting into the most wild transporter accident ever recorded

[djbetodiass]

SUPERSONIC #30 by DJ BETO DIAS

01 – Pig & Dan – Better Than The Love I Know (Extended Mix)[DFTD]02 – Vintage Culture & Sonny Fodera feat. SHELLS – Nightjar (Extended Mix)[DEFECTED]03 – Crush Club feat. Amazonian Rockstar – Bohanna (Just Kiddin Extended Edit) [SOME OTHER RECORDS]04 – Pansil – My High (Extended)[JANGO MUSIC]05 – Nick Jay & Jean Luc – Silence (Mind Electric Remix Bootleg)[WHITE LABEL]06 – Tensnake – Coma Cat…

[vodika-vibes]

I‘m deep in my Jango feels again, like who allowed him to be this gorgeous???

anyways, I loved the jaster piece you wrote recently with the cabin-getaway and under the risk of being a copycat, would you mind writing something similar for Jango? Because it was just *chefs kiss*

Summer Vacation

Summary: Jango surprises you with a beach getaway.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1457

Warnings: Some smut, very spicy. Implications of exhibitionism(?). Reader likes being recorded for Jango and Jango alone, I don't know what I'd call that.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I went the opposite way than I did with Jaster! Jango gets a beautiful summer getaway, while Jaster got a winter wonderland. Now all I need is a matching Boba request, and I'll have collected the whole set...like pokemon cards.

“Jango, where are we going?” You ask as you allow him to lead you across the sandy beach, “You said you had a surprise, and then never finished your thought.”

“That’s because it’s supposed to be a surprise, cyare.” Jango replies with a roll of his eyes, even as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls your joined hands to his lips.

“Yes, but I hate surprises. They tend to involve me getting shot at.”

He laughs, a warm and open sound that makes you smile up at him, “Not this one. I promise.”

He leads you down a stone pathway, and you do have to admit the ambience here is rather nice, even if you aren’t, quite, dressed for the occasion. It’s hot, for one, and though the white sandy beaches and the clear blue ocean are lovely, you’re not sure that the sand will agree with your armor.

Or his, for that matter.

Jango guides you to a decently sized bungalow, “Here we are. Our home away from home for the next month.”

You blink at the building, and then up at him, “We’re staying here?”

“Yup.”

“Are there even any other people on this island?” You ask, bemused, as he leads you towards the house.

“Not a one.” He grins at you, “It’s just you and me.”

“Oh.” You breathe out, “I thought this was a job, but it’s a vacation, isn’t it?”

“I did promise you one, didn’t I?” He pushes open the door, and picks up a note sitting on a nearby table, “So, we have two weeks of groceries, I’ll get a comm call before the next food delivery.”

You look around, and inhale deeply, the scent and sounds of the ocean filling you with a sense of peace you haven’t felt in ages, before you frown at him, “Jango, I don’t have any swimwear…or anything at all suited for this weather.”

“Lucky for you that I’m an expert planner, and ordered everything that you might need.” Jango nods towards the bedroom, “Go ahead and see.”

“Alright,” You turn towards the bedroom, and push the door open. The room is large and open, and you note that there’s a sliding glass door that leads you to an outdoor shower, but it also looks like it leads right to the water too.

You take a moment to tug your armor off, neatly setting everything on the bed, before you start opening drawers. The top drawer is dedicated to bathing suits. So you grab one and hold it up. All bikinis, not that you’re surprised, in a wide array of colors, and all of them are impossibly skimpy.

You grin, you really shouldn’t be surprised. Jango, after all, has never been shy about wanting to see you in less. 

Slowly you trail your fingers over the flimsy material, your head tilting to the side as you listen to Jango move around the house, and a mischievous smile crosses your face. 

Quickly, you pull off your bodysuit and your undergarments, tossing everything to the side to be dealt with later, and pull on the bikini.

It fits perfectly, though you’d have been surprised if it hadn’t, and was a lot strappier than you first thought. Tight spandex crisscrosses your entire body, and you hope that Jango got sunblock, or else you’re going to have the stupidest tan lines-

You open the closet and see that it has a few dresses, but much more importantly, there are sandals lining the bottom of the closet. You grab a pair that matches the bathing suit and then step into the hall.

“Jango?”

“In the kitchen!” Jango replies, and you follow the sound of his voice, “It looks like they left recipe cards for some of these meals,” He adds, lowering his voice when he hears you entering the kitchen, “Which is good, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard of some of these thing-” He finally turns to look at you and he stops mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to your bikini clad body.

“Well,” You ask, with a wide grin, “How do I look?”

“Amazing. I knew that would look amazing on you.” Jango replies as he takes a step closer to you and reaches out to brush his fingers along your side. He’s removed his armor at some point, but you decide it’s not important at the moment.

You dance just out of his reach, and Jango releases a frustrated little groan, “Babe-”

You grin as you remain just out of reach, “You know, I’m pretty sure I saw a cabana outside,” You muse thoughtfully, “And I do deserve a vacation-” You take a step back, “I think I’m going to go and lay under the cabana. I’m sure I have a book or two that I can read.”

Jango’s eyes glitter, “Wouldn’t you rather stay inside, in the air conditioning, with me?” He offers, very, very temptingly.

“Hm…tempting, but no. You can come and join me outside, if you like though.” You step closer to him and drag one painted nail down his chest, and only stop once you reach the waist of his bottoms, “I’m sure you bought yourself some swimwear too?”

“I did,” Jango’s voice is soft, and a little breathless.

Your smile is blinding, “Then you can join me outside.” You step back again, and turn to flounce out the room, and you muffle a giggle when you hear him groan.

You make your way to the cabana, kicking your sandals off as you settle on the plush bed, and stretch out. Shielded from the sun, and with a clear view of the ocean and probably sunset, you feel positively spoiled.

Jango joins you not long after, wearing a matching pair of swim trunks, and holding two towels, which he tosses over one of the chairs, “Well now, aren’t you a vision?” He says lazily as he lifts his comm to snap a holo of you.

You grin at him and move to sit prettily on your knees, not quite posing for him, but not quite not posing for him either. And your grin widens when you hear the sound of him taking another photo.

“You like what you see, Jango?” You tease.

“Always.” His voice has taken on a husky quality, “Why don’t you take that top off and show off those pretty tits of yours, cyare?”

You smile at him consideringly, “I have a better idea,” You finally decide, “Come here, Jango.” It’s a request

He obeys you like it’s an order, and he doesn’t hesitate to cross the small space to stand next to the bed, and you move to sit on your knees at the edge of the bed, and he places his hand on the top of your head, “You going to take me in your mouth, cyare?”

You hum and lightly trail your fingers across his stomach and to his hips, “If you don’t mind.”

“Have I ever?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” You reply lightly, as you hook your fingers in the band of his swimsuit and wait for him to give his permission. As soon as it’s given, you gently slide them down his legs, and Jango kicks them to the side.

Jango’s cock is long and thick, and is already so very hard. You lean in and press a feather light kiss against the weeping tip, “You’re already so hard,” You murmur lightly.

“Course I am, it’s you.” He replies easily, and then a low groan falls from him as you lick a strip down the length of his cock and then back up. You know how he likes to be touched after all. “You know what I really want, though, cyare?” He murmurs through a moan as you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck gently.

“What’s that?” You ask, as you pull away and lazily take him in hand and start a slow, teasing, pace.

“You.” His gaze is dark with desire. “Want you to ride me, cyare. Want you to ride me while I record it.”

Your hand pauses and desire shoots to your core.

“Mm, I know you like being recorded, cyare.” He murmurs, “Especially since you know I’ll use the recordings when I’m missing you.”

On one hand, you really want to give him a blow job. On the other hand, his offer sounds amazing-

Jango grins, knowing he’s already won, “Come on, cyare. Get up. Get naked. Want you to put on a show for me. Can you do that, baby?”

Your face heats with slight embarrassment, and you slowly release him, “How much of a show do you want?”

Heat flares in his dark eyes, “Everything, cyare. Give me everything,”

[varpusvaras]

… so in the order 66 au, what (if any) knowledge does leia have of boba fett 👀 ? (i suppose this depends on how fox and boba do/don’t get on in this verse…)

Leia knows of Boba, as much as there is to know about him, what Fox knows and what public (and some more private) records show. Leia is very well aware that her Buir is a clone, and what happened on Kamino, and also about Jango Fett, and she has done her research onto the topic when she got older, especially after Boba started to take jobs for the Empire.

She has...mixed feelings on him. She doesn't exactly regard him as a relative of hers, because as a person who was adopted, she understands the complications of different dynamic and understands how fucked up the whole cloning thing was in that regard. Fox doesn't really have a relationship with Boba either, because this is canon compliant until the order, so Boba had his hand in killing Ponds.

Anyway (this is kinda spoilers for Force Ghost Fox too lmao) when Boba and Leia meet for the first time, Leia proceeds to absolutely roast him with very uh, personal things. Like she is fully psychoanalysing this man. And Boba is just standing there like damn girl wtf 🧍

[formlessvoidbeast]

For months, Jango could only hope that the Kaminiise found Satine far more of a frustration than he did.

Eventually there was a recorded message delivered to the Mand'alor's official line. As soon as Jango saw the expression on Satine's face, he knew she had achieved all her goals. She only looked that smugly satisfied when she had won a particularly tricky political contest and sacrificed nothing she cared about.

“Mand'alor.” Satine pounded her fist to her heart. “We return victorious.” She shared nothing else but her group's estimated arrival window. Jango didn't need to hear anything else to order the celebrations be prepared for their return. Satine and her people would be feasted and feted as the triumphant warriors they were.

Jango would not see the oceans of Kamino boil, but he trusted that suitable vengeance had been carried out in his name.

from shadowed nebulas born Chapter 5 of 6

Today, we find out what Nala Se had been up to. and also good things happen.

Enjoy!