#adult! cal kestis

[stealingpotatoes]

The last (4) Jedi time traveling to the Clone Wars era is just a comedic goldmine. Erza’s chasing after young and adorable Caleb Dune while Depa chases him to get him to leave her Padawan alone. Cal and Ahsoka and trying to make sure no one meets their younger selves, most of all themselves because they’d have questions for Big Soka and Cal. Luke’s just smiling like a sun in the middle of all the chaos, happy to see Yoda again.

alternatively, Cal and Ahsoka are trying to heal their childhood traumas through various means:

(commission info // kofi support!)

[kayl3ighsunflower]

.

[motherofagoddess]

Jedi: Survivor comes out tonight and I'm willing to lose some sleep over it.

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know it's still pretty soon to make these kinds of assumptions but how much y'all wanna bet that next year at Star Wars Celebration Tokio we'll get an announcement of an animated show about adult Omega leading her own squad?

I mean, her potential team is pretty much already there. Deke, Stak and Mox, for example. Maybe some of the kids from the Vault, though they don't have training with the Force and who knows if they'll ever be able to get it. But you know who has it? Gungi! C'mon Star Wars, give us Omega and Gungi as the Han Solo and Chewie 2.0., don't be scared. Maybe it could also be a great way to bring Cal Kestis to the TV screen? Even Lyana could join their team!

And Pabu would be their home base where they come back from time to time to restock and recharge or lick their wounds or repair their ships and we'd get a glimpse at our boys and their life because there's no way Omega isn't checking in at least once in a while okay?

Not to mention, that if Omega is joining the ranks of the Rebelion as a pilot, there is absolutely no fuckin way she won't be crossing paths with her old bestie General Hera Syndula

[fanfoolishness]

Cal Kestis needs to be needed.

I'm replaying Fallen Order and able to pay a little bit more attention this time (the first time around, I was mostly just dazzled). Cal has just landed on Kashyyyk having taken down an AT-AT to help partisans fighting the Empire. Saw Gerrera thanks him for the help, but when he hears Cal's here on Jedi business, he's skeptical and scoffs that the Jedi are dead.

It gets interesting here. Cal holds out his lightsaber, a challenge to Saw's offhand comment. And Saw needles him. Asks him if he got the lightsaber off a corpse. Cal fixes Saw with one of those thousand yard stares the boy is too good at and tells him quietly that his master gave it to him.

Saw is a master at what he does. He's charismatic, he gets people to lay down their lives for him and his causes. He knows how to handle them. He sees this fresh-faced kid in front of him with a lightsaber, who immediately starts asking about how to help the Wookiees, and Saw realizes he's got his angle.

(I think Cere clocked that he was sizing Cal up right away, and was concerned well before Saw left the planet.)

So when Cal meets up with Saw in the forest trench to find out the plan, Saw knows just how to play him. He gives Cal the mission of entering the Imperial base and freeing the Wookiees. Is this strictly necessary for Saw's plan to work? Probably not, but it'll be a useful distraction, and more importantly, Saw knows how Jedi are drawn to helping innocents like moths to a flame. If the kid becomes loyal to him for this mission, he'll be a useful tool in the future; if he fails, the main plan isn't jeopardized and he's still a good distraction.

So he lays a hand on Cal's shoulder and tells Cal to free the prisoners. With his lightsaber. The same weapon he just called Cal a graverobber about. Someone older and wiser might have seen a red flag there! But Cal Kestis?

Cal is ecstatic to be needed. To be helpful. He's so proud already he has to brag to BD about it immediately.

Cal instantly looks up to Saw. I think he recognized Saw's leadership skills, his charisma, and his battle prowess, and was taken right back to Master Tapal; but he's not old enough or experienced enough to see the way Saw is looking at him and figuratively licking his chops. All Cal sees is someone who's fighting against the Empire, making a difference, and thinks that he could make a difference again, too.

Cal is the classic smart kid who achieved too quickly, never learned how to fail, wound up spending a lot of time with adults who praised his skills -- and he hungers for that praise still. You can see how he lights up in general when he realizes he's done something really skillful -- taking out that AT-ST walker puts an actual grin on his face, the same grin he probably got as a Padawan when he knew he'd executed something tricky. He loves to be told he's done well, especially after five years in the Bracca scrapyards where standing out could mean being found by the Empire.

(Look at this smug little dork, getting hydrated after destroying a scout walker. Also, two seconds later Cere asks how he's doing with the Force and Cal cheerfully says well, he's not dead yet! and he'd rather not talk about it! But that's a whole rant for another post.)

The Jedi Order specifically put Cal with Master Tapal because they realized he had a problem with not knowing how to handle failure, but because their training was cut short, Cal never did learn the lesson. He blames himself completely when something goes wrong (Cere reminds him that saving the Wookiees and the Partisans is out of his control, a warning he shrugs off instantly even before they get to the fight); he can get a success, but he craves more. He's always looking for that person who can tell him that he's done right, who can give that external validation to help him feel useful. He sees instantly that Saw -- clever, resourceful, respected -- could be a person like that, and Cal just glows around him despite having known him for all of five minutes.

Cal doesn't realize he was being handled, and very skillfully so.

He still doesn't realize that going into Survivor, is still working for Saw, but there's a reason Cere isn't on these missions with him; not only does she have her own goals, but she doesn't trust Saw or his methods. I'm sure she sees that need Cal has to feel needed, to feel useful, and frets about it privately; there are some things that are just too entrenched to root up entirely. Once Cal starts growing comfortable with his powers again, the urge to help, to succeed, to do right by those he looks up to is very, very strong.

After all, how do you think Bode found his angle?

[sammyjay816]

I love the Idea that Kanan Jarrus and Cal Kestis were friends as Padawans. I hate the Idea that they never got to meet again as adults, aka canon.

[geekywritings]

“Come back to bed.”

Today, I present to you my interpretation of the lovely anonymous ask I received:

“Reader was super touch starved before they started dating and Cal is super touchy, and she loves it but also has trouble getting used it. But her favorite thing is when he rubs her back (comfort or just to be close) and it just becomes a thing for them??"

Again, lots of fluff, so enjoy!

___________

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. On one hand, you feared it, on the other, you desired nothing more than to experience its effects. Thinking about it, your paradox connection to touch probably stemmed from your upbringing. Your mother had worked in one of the adult entertainment establishments of Nar Shadaa, with you growing up in this strange world of opposites.

Poor workers, rich clients. Big expectations, and crushed dreams. Honest touch and paid-for love. It all mixed together in this place, and you had watched it all from the kitchens where you were being kept while your mother served drinks to the various males that frequented the “The Pearl” every night.

Hugs were rare, as your mother wasn’t the type for it. She showed her affection in different ways, first and foremost by sending you away when you were old enough, thus saving you from a future in the establishment.

You attended a pilot academy and graduated among the top of your class. By that time, the Republic had fallen and the Empire was recruiting capable pilots left and right. Needless to say, the strict regime didn’t exactly encourage comradery and touch either.

And so you grew more and more hungry for it, while never quite knowing why.

You also hated working for the Empire. Payment was bad, the treatment of people horrendous and everything about it simply felt wrong.

It was by pure accident that you crossed paths with the rebels when one of them tried to pay you good credits to smuggle someone off-planet along with your booked cargo. You had agreed, mostly for the credits, to be honest, but eventually, helping people became a mission. A true purpose. Something fulfilling.

You also came to love one rebel in particular: Cal Kestis. You had run several missions for and with him until he eventually asked you to join his crew permanently. They could always use a good pilot, he argued. A good friend of his, Greeze, used to be the Captain of the impressive ship he used to get around, but the Latero had retired or was at least taking an extensive break.

And so your story with Cal had begun, quickly growing from allies to friends and eventually romantic partners. It had all happened so fast and your head still reeled from how the redhead had managed to worm his way into your heart. Never had you met anyone displaying such kindness, gentleness, patience and respect. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

He taught you how to fight as well, organizing a metal staff for you after you turned out to be a rather poor shot. You two sparred regularly, with the Jedi putting his combat training into good use to teach you new tricks.

The crew around you changed constantly. Some left, some died, some joined you only for a specific job. But Cal, BD-1 and you were a constant on the Mantis. They were your family and the ship your home.

Often, you would sit awake long into the night, staring out into the galaxy passing you by and thinking about what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t saved up every credit to send you away.

“Didn’t you say you’d join me in 10 minutes?”

You turned and found Cal leaning against the doorway leading to the cockpit. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy, but a small smile was playing on his lips, as he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

“That was three hours ago, love.”, he added when you sent him a confused look.

“Oh…”, was all you could say, not having realized how much time had passed. Getting lost in memories did that to you.

Stifling a yawn, Cal moved to drop into the Co-pilot seat, green eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep again?” His voice was full of sympathy as he reached out a hand to rest on your knee.

There it was again: touch.

Cal always reached for you. Whether it was for a hug or a kiss, to hold your hand, to just feel you near or to make sweet love with you. Every touch from his was special and you did your best to reciprocate. You still remembered the look of pure joy the first time you initiated a hug or gave him a kiss or reached for his hand on your own. It helped you greatly to open yourself to the kind of love language you had yearned for, yet still needed to grasp fully.

You stared at his hand on your knee and slowly placed yours on top of his.

“I was thinking about my mother… and everything she did to give me a good life.”

Cal nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything, allowing you to unload your thoughts. He knew your past and had even volunteered to help your mom, but she had disappeared from “The Pearl” after your graduation with no sign of her to be found.

“She saved you. That’s love.”, he eventually spoke and you smiled.

“I wish I could have shown her more that I loved her.”, you sighed. You regretted that you hadn’t hugged her more on your own accord.

“I am sure that she knew.”, Cal assured you, ever the supportive voice for your conscience.

You smiled at him and nodded, before slipping from the pilot’s chair into his lap, arms sneaking around him. “I love you, Cal… And I want to show you every day.”, you muttered into his neck, as his arms came to rest around you.

“You do show me every day, Starlight.”, he whispered back, holding you close. “And I am so very grateful for it, because I love you as well. To the end of the Galaxy and back.”

For a while you just sat in silence, enjoying the proximity, Cal's hand drawing small circles on your lower back. It was your favourite, really, the gesture always helping you relax.

“Now come back to bed, love.”, the Jedi whispered eventually and you nodded, allowing him to carry you back into your room, where you both gave into desire.

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. But you were ready to open your heart to it fully, as long as Cal was with you.

[vibrantbirdy]

You are so incredibly talented! I love reading all of your works! : )

Could I request a Cal Kestis x female reader (or OC, no preference really). I’ve been super into the game recently and just love his character. Maybe a really strong female character, but she gets flustered by Cal’s confidence, and how much she has grown to like him more than friends. I totally see him being a complete flirt (but still sweet). Haha. I’ve always had this idea that it would be cool for a force user to show someone what it’s like by holding their hand and pulling something to them (like aiding them in using the force). Stupid maybe I don’t know lol, basically Cal being suave and laying it on thick. Fluff, crack, little spice, I’m here for whatever creative piece you get going ❤️

Firstly, thank you for your lovely words! Secondly, yay, Cal! Thank you, I'm glad someone's asked for Cal, this is a cute prompt.

Character x Reader requests are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Masterlist of my fics can be found here.

Title: Proximity Fandom: Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor Games Setting: Prior to events of Jedi Survivor Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Fluff - This is tooth-rotting fluff with a little added spice as requested ;) Warnings: This fic is 18+ so please heed and respect the adult rating. Descriptions of sexual longing/arousal; one scene of strong consensual sex - nothing too descriptive but probably on the borderline of (hopefully still sweet) mild smut. Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 5.5k (Because I have no self control) Summary: You are an accomplished Coruscanti thief who has been recruited by the Rebel Jedi, Cal Kestis. As you join him and his crew on their adventures aboard the Mantis, you and Cal have to navigate your growing feelings for each other.

You are standing in some Imperial-worshipping Senator's private vault in a bank nestled deep in the heart of Coruscant's palatial financial district. You've just located your prize - a data stick containing the names of high standing political and military figures within the Empire who have Republic, perhaps even Rebel leaning sympathies.

It's the Senator's insurance policy, his get out of jail free card - something he can produce at the eleventh hour in case his unwavering loyalty to the Empire turns out not to be enough to save him from the pull and push of the Imperial tide of oppression swelling across the Galaxy.

You'll sell the data stick to one Rebel faction or another, whoever is willing to pay most for your service in getting information out of Imperial hands and aiding the Rebel's recruitment drive in the process.

You're in the middle of internally congratulating yourself on successfully extracting the data stick from its complex security casing when a male voice, almost conversational in tone, rings out behind you.

"I can't let you leave with that."

Startled, you whirl around to see a man standing no more than a meter away from you. You wonder how long he's been there, watching you.

He has bright ginger hair which is swept back from his face, short at the back and sides, but longer on top and slightly ruffled. His matching red stubble sits on his cheeks, chin, upper-lip and travels up his well-defined jawline to his ears. He is dressed simply in a fawn shirt, dark grey pants, and sturdy brown boots.

A small red and white droid, bipedal, with a flat rectangular head and two photoreceptors, one slightly larger and beadier than the other, hangs almost casually off his shoulder like a pet. It's a BD unit, you think.

Both the man and the droid are rather dirty, but then, so are you after squeezing your way through a maze of dusty ventilation shafts. It makes sense the only possible way they could have gotten in here is the same way you did.

The stranger is holding something metal in his right hand that glints occasionally in the vault's dim security lighting, but you can't quite work out what it is. A weapon?

You raise your blaster.

"Don't!" he shouts, holding out a palm towards you, "The vault is magnetically sealed, if you miss, that bolt's going to cause us both a world of problems."

You raise an eyebrow because one, you already know that, and two...

"Bold of you to assume I'll miss at point blank range," you say levelly.

You keep your weapon trained steadily at the young man's chest.

He adjusts his grip on whatever it is he is holding and a green beam of light extends from the hilt of what you now realise is a lightsaber. A deep thrumming sound resonates around the small chamber.

A Jedi. Great.

You thought they were all extinct after the Emperor's purge. Briefly, childhood memories of evening strolls with your parents past the monumental ziggurat of the Jedi temple glowing golden in the low Coruscanti sun flash through your mind. You remember the thrill of excitement at seeing the Jedi, elegant and regal in their grand robes, lightsabers clinking at their belts as they swept by on important Republic business.

Right now? Here? This is the last place you want to see one.

The light from the blade illuminates the young man's face which, you have to admit, is a rather attractive combination of youthful and rugged. His nose and cheeks are peppered with freckles and his eyes contain green irises so deep in colour that they almost match his blade. A thin, red scar runs almost horizontally across the bridge of his nose, dipping down onto his right cheek. The ghost of a smirk is now playing on his lips and it has the irritating effect of making him more handsome.

You don't know why, but for some reason, you trust him instinctively not to try and cut you in half with that humming beam of hot, vibrating energy. At a stalemate, you lower your blaster. He follows your lead by deactivating the blade of his saber immediately.

"If you make me a good offer, you can have this right now," you say, one hand on your hip, the other waving the data stick in front of him impatiently.

You never like staying on the scene of a job too long and you are starting to feel on edge.

"I've got ... uhhh ... one hundred credits?"

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he speaks. He knows it's a stupidly lowball offer and you scoff loudly to let him know you think so too.

"Look, I know the ISB would pay a lot for information like this but..."

"I don't sell to the Empire," you snarl, cutting him off.

He holds up his hands in a gesture of apology which seems genuine enough. He tries again.

"I really need to get this to a contact in the Mid Rim..."

"The Mid Rim?" you interrupt abruptly, "that's off-world."

"Yeah..." his brow furrows and a slow, quizzical smile spreads across his face at the obviousness of your statement.

You curse yourself for being as predictable as a cheap holo novel. All your life you've lived on Coruscant. You've never been anywhere else. These days, the endless maze of unnatural, lifeless spires and struts and blocks of artificial construction seem to press in and in and in on you so that, despite the sprawling size of the metropolis, it feels like you are living in a tiny metal cage.

Still, this stranger didn't need to know that, and you realise you've given him his angle - a bargaining chip.

"I can't buy it off you," he reasons, "I don't have the credits, but I do have a proposal. Work with me and my crew. It's regular and we're rarely on one world for too long..."

There it is...

You got in here," he continues, gesturing around the vault, "we could use someone with your skill set. And, you get to piss off the Empire in the process."

You consider his offer. You are used to working alone and you don't like the complications that come with relying on others. Trusting anyone is difficult after fending for yourself, all alone, so successfully and for so long....

But with the Empire continuing to close their fist around all aspects of daily life, work was difficult to come by on Coruscant these days. Thieving in the city from Imperial targets in particular was becoming more and more fraught with danger.

While it riled you that he was able to read you so easily, really, what did you have to lose? Because by the Force did you not want to get off Coruscant? Isn't this what you'd been waiting for your whole life? An adventure?

"One job," you counter pragmatically, extending your hand to shake his, "And we'll see how it goes from there."

"Cal Kestis," he introduces himself with a disarmingly friendly smile, "And deal."

*************************************************

One job turns into another then another and another. Weeks turn into months and soon you've been on Cal's ship - well, borrowed ship you had come to learn - the Mantis for nearly half a year.

You've grown close with the crew of the Mantis. Cal, Gabs, Bravo and the two hulking Klatooinine twins, Lizz and Koob. This type of camaraderie is new to you. You really thought you'd struggle with it, that your independent nature would rail against the confines of living in close quarters with ship mates and fitting your own whims and desires and wants around others. In reality, you've never felt more at home. You didn't realise how lonely you had become before.

And the missions you run with the crew are exhilarating. This new life is so much more than just pilfering here and there from the Empire. You feel like you are really making a difference, like you're spitting directly in the face of the Imperial machine with every job. You feel like a Rebel.

It's not all sabotage and espionage and fighting Stormtroopers though. Off duty, life on the Mantis is mainly based around friendly joshing and winding each other up. And the dull minutiae of life still goes on.

Like now.

You and Cal are patching up the Mantis while the others are out on a supply run. You are currently crouched on your haunches so that the service hatch you are examining on one of the walls inside the ship is at eye level.

Cal is stood behind you, arms folded across his chest. You've been arguing good naturedly about what the problem is with the engine cooling system for an hour and you are now impatiently waiting for BD-1 to finish his scan to find out which one of you is right.

The little droid crawls out from the tangle of wires and gives you little nod and a boop of approval. You pat BD on his rectangular head and he scurries up your arm and on to your shoulder.

"I told you that was the problem," you say, craning your neck to look up at Cal with a triumphant grin.

You gesture to the wiring tool in his hand.

"Give that to me, I'll do it."

The Jedi looks down at the small instrument in his hand then tosses it up in the air and catches it again. He has that mischievous look on his face, the one you've learned to recognise as a sign that he's about to do something really annoying.

"Kestis..." you warn standing up, unable to stop your lips curling into a smile.

You make a lunge for the tool in his hand, but he's too quick. In a flash, he's holding it up above his head. Cal is almost a head taller than you and there's no way you can reach that high, even when you stretch up onto your tiptoes.

Instead, you decide to play dirty. You jab him hard in both his sides with your fingers where you know he's ticklish. He makes a funny sort of snorting noise in surprise and his hand drops for long enough that you manage to snatch the tool from him and make off with it at great speed.

Cal darts after you, both of you careering in to the kitchen of the Mantis, the thud and scrape of your boots on the ship's durasteel grated floor ringing throughout the ship in chorus with your laughter.

BD-1 takes this opportunity to leap of your shoulder and onto the kitchen table with an indignant whirr, determined not to get involved in this organic tomfoolery.

Cal is on you in seconds. He grabs you around the middle and lifts you off the ground with ease, spinning you around and deliberately tickling you in between making grabs for the wiring tool.

You squeal and let out perhaps the most ridiculous giggle to ever escape your mouth. You can't let him get away with forcing you to make a noise like that so you elbow him in the stomach. It's only a gentle prod really, but it's enough to make him grunt and let go of you.

As Cal doubles over, winded, you sprint back around to the opposite side of kitchen table holding the instrument aloft and performing a little victory dance.

Across the table, Cal straightens and, with a cocky look on his face, he stretches his arm out towards you. You stumble forwards slightly as if pulled forwards by an invisible rope tied around your wrist as he uses the Force to tear the tool easily out of your hand and bring it flying through the air to rest in his own outstretched palm.

"That's cheating!" you say, breathlessly.

Despite your half-hearted admonishment, in reality, you're delighted. And you're certain Cal knows it. The more time you spend with him, the more that old fascination you held as a child with the strange powers of the Jedi has returned. You are always enchanted by Cal's displays of Force ability.

"Alright kids, we almost ready to go?" Gabs' voice echoing through from the Mantis' doorway signals the return of the others.

Cal shrugs at you and you both grin, panting from your exertions. Keeping his green eyes locked on yours, he backs casually towards the door to help Gabs and the others load up the supply crates. Just before he exits the ship, he tosses the wiring tool to you underarm and you catch it with an elaborate flourish and twirl that makes him laugh.

You return to your work fixing the Mantis's cooling system with BD-1. You try to concentrate, but you feel slightly giddy. You can still feel Cal's strong arms against your body as if they remain wrapped around you. His masculine scent, pleasant and earthy and fresh like petrichor, seems to linger in your proximity and on your skin.

BD-1 tries his best to keep you right. He trills or nudges you every so often either to correct your wiring or to encourage you to stop staring into space with that inane, absent-minded smile.

When you lie in your cot bed that night, the hum of the Mantis' hyperdrive lulls you into a comfortable drowsiness and your thoughts return, unbidden, to Cal.

Over the past few months, it's like the very idea of him nestled deep into your brain and now refuses to budge. Every morning when you wake, you look forward to the sight of his honest, open, expressive face. The warmth of his slightly crooked smile. The way his red brows arch when he finds something funny before he squeezes his eyes shut so tight that they crinkle at the corners as he throws back his head, letting out peels of joyful, open-mouthed laughter.

Even when he has those strange moments of quiet introspection which you don't quite understand yet, you find it hard not to watch him. You can't help it, even although you sometimes feel like you are intruding on a private, sacred moment of reflection. It's always the same. His eyes glaze over as he stares out into the distance at nothing, a muscle works in his chiselled jaw, and then his head drops as if in dignified, melancholic prayer. These periods never last too long - not when he has a crew to lead.

There's no point in denying it anymore, at least not to yourself anyway. Your feelings for Cal go beyond comradeship; beyond friendship. And a hopeful notion has formed in your head that he might actually feel the same way about you.

It's both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

A sudden heat blooms deep within your very core and rises in your cheeks as your mind conjures the image, no, the feeling of Cal's solid, toned body, pressed against yours in a feverish, impassioned embrace, your limbs entwined, fingers woven tightly through the flames of his red hair

Force, you want him.

You place a palm against the cool durasteel wall above your head that separates your room from the Jedi's. You wonder what he's thinking of on the other side of the thin sheet of metal.

****************************************

Cal Kestis can't sleep. Like most Jedi, he can't actually read the thoughts of others, but his connection to the Force allows him to feel the emotions and state of mind of those around him.

Over the past few months, the Jedi has noticed your feelings for him blossoming into something more than friendship, mirroring the growth of his own affections for you.

But tonight, Cal can sense that something in your emotional frequency has changed. Evolved. A clarity, a new and vigorous and glorious certainty in your desire for him radiates incandescent through the Force. It's like the smouldering embers of a fire have ignited into a ferocious blaze.

As the feeling permeates through the thin sheet-metal wall dividing you, the intensity of it, the heat of it, drives him crazy. He wants to rip through the flimsy partition separating you and give you everything you want from him and more. His whole body is aflame with almost painful arousal and he is aching to bring himself release.

Cal resists, teetering on the very edge of giving himself over to his desire. Is this voyeuristic? Is he trespassing? Crossing some unspoken line? Should he be trying to block you out? He doesn't know.

The Jedi hisses through his teeth in frustration. Reluctantly, he rolls out of bed and, sinking to his knees on the floor, surrenders himself to the Force in search of whatever temporary solace he can find in meditation.

Even as he does so, he knows that the only real relief he'll be able to get now is if he can find it with you.

***************************************

The crew of the Mantis are taking some time to rest after a run of particularly eventful jobs. You've landed on the quiet world of Brax at the edge of the Mid Rim. It's a beautiful, lush planet adorned with meadows of wildflowers, glassy lakes and sprawling coniferous forests.

Everyone is making the most of their down time.

Gabs and Bravo have gone off for a hike in the nearby woods.

BD-1 is having a well earned oil bath on the Mantis.

The twins are snoozing in the meadow amongst the flowers. When you'd crept past them earlier, you'd smiled fondly - the peaceful serenity on their faces was such an odd juxtaposition to their usual chaotic enthusiasm for life.

Having successfully sneaked past Lizz and Koob without waking them, you are now sitting atop a large slab of rock which juts up and out of the meadow. You alternate between admiring the view of the lake and cleaning your blaster.

It is a warm day, but a gentle cooling breeze keeps the heat at bay. A gust suddenly whips up the heady, sweet smell of wildflowers all around you. For some reason the scent triggers something inside you, your heart suddenly full to bursting with a strange concoction of melancholy and joy.

To think that all this beauty, all this Galaxy was just out here, waiting, your whole life. And if you'd never met Cal, you might still be crawling through filthy ventilation shafts smelling of metal and damp and darkness just to get by on Coruscant.

You are just about ready to reassemble your weapon when you look up from your task towards where the Jedi is meditating with his back to you. He's kneeling a few meters in front of you on the sandy shore by the still water. You always think it's strange how he chooses to sit on his knees, rather than cross-legged. It looks uncomfortable to you, but he seems to be able to sit like that for anywhere up to an hour. Maybe you'll ask him about it one day.

Cal is shirtless. Even from here, you can see the freckles littered like celestial constellations across his strong back and down his broad shoulders and muscled arms. You take the opportunity to admire the outlines and angles of his taut, athletic body.

You start as the Jedi begins to stand. You'd rather not get caught staring at him quite so openly and you quickly shift your gaze back to your blaster which is still in its various component parts.

Cal turns and advances towards you up the beach and onto the grassy meadow. You pretend not to have noticed him at all, but you keep catching glimpses of him in your peripheral vision. He walks a few paces, then stops and looks around as if he's searching for something on the ground. Then he crouches down. He does this several times.

What is he up to?

"Hey," Cal says casually as he finally wanders over to you.

He has to crane his neck to speak to you, perched as you are on top of your rock, and use a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He's hiding something behind his back you realise.

"Oh, hey," you reply, as if you're surprised to see him there.

He pulls his hand from behind his back and reaches up to you. In his grasp is a bunch of wildflowers, beautiful pastel blues and pinks and purples.

You exclaim softly in surprise, a rather giddy sound that makes Cal beam up at you. As you take the blooms from him, his fingertips, calloused and tough from years of wielding a weapon in combat, brush gently against your hand. Even that small touch feels like a spark of electricity arching between you.

"See you at dinner," he says, and he's clearly pleased with himself as he retreats towards the Mantis, head held high, a jaunt in his step.

As you twist in your seated position to watch him disappear into the ship, you realise you were so enchanted by the gesture that you forgot to say thank you.

That's the thing about Cal Kestis. He's completely disarming. He has a rare, effortless charisma and an easy, flirtatious way about him that is somehow both sweet and suave at the same time. Few men you've met have ever managed to render you so flustered.

You look down at the delicate blooms in your hand and bring them to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent. Smiling to yourself, you shake loose the functional way you usually wear your hair to keep it out of your face and retie it, carefully weaving the wildflowers that Cal has picked for you through your locks.

When you come in for dinner - Bravo's turn to cook - Cal is already sitting at the kitchen table. He looks up and inclines his head to the side as he takes you in, his eyes widening. You blush furiously to see the genuine pleasure at the sight of you and your decorated hair written so openly on his face.

Amid the usual convivial hubbub and chaos of dinner in the Mantis' kitchen, you and Cal steal glances at each other across the table.

**********************************************

That evening, the moon is low and yellow in Brax's dark sky, hanging like a ball of golden light above the lake. You have an hour or so before you all depart for a rendezvous with a contact on Naboo. It's the twins' turn to do pre-flight checks and you find yourself on the shores of the water, skimming stones with Cal to kill time.

Before joining the crew of the Mantis you'd never skimmed a stone in your life. Not many places to do that on Coruscant. But Gabs in particular is an ace at it and she's taught you well.

Cal spots a likely candidate for his next projectile and he brings it flying casually into his hand using his Jedi abilities.

"What does it feel like like?" You ask, suddenly.

Cal smiles at you, seemingly understanding that you are talking about the Force. He hesitates for a second, looking down at the stone in his open palm. Then he places it back on the ground in an obvious position, nestled in the sand a few feet in front of you, and moves round to stand behind you.

He's so close you can feel his heart beating against his chest. Instinctively, you lean back into him, enjoying the safe feeling that his nearness gives you, and the warmth of his body against yours in the chill night air.

"It's time for instruction," he says softly.

He's said that phrase before when he's showing anyone how to do something new. You've come to understand that it's a fond impression of his late Master's dignified voice - a touching habit you've always thought.

Tonight it sounds different. His tone is light and teasing, but the smirk you can hear as he speaks makes the words sound almost seductive in a way that causes something to flip then tighten in the pit of your abdomen.

"Hold out your hand."

You extend your right arm, holding your palm outwards as you've seen Cal do many times. He places his own palm against the back of your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours.

His other hand comes to rest at your waist, pulling you ever so slightly closer into him. He doesn't need to put it there and you both know it. Nor does he need to rest his chin on your left shoulder, so close to your cheek that his stubble almost tickles your skin.

Yet you can tell that you are both revelling in this rare, private opportunity for proximity between the two of you, and it is as thrilling as it is maddening.

"Focus. Breathe."

You realise you've been holding your breath. You feel Cal's chest rising and falling against your back and you match your own breathing in time with his. You can't help but notice it's at a slightly elevated pace.

"See the stone in your hand."

You nod and exhale, your eyes boring into the rock as if you really are going to levitate it yourself. You try and fail to stifle a sudden giggle at the ridiculousness of such an idea.

"Concentrate," Cal scolds quietly in your ear but you can hear the smile in his voice as the hand round your waist tightens its grip ever so slightly.

"I am," you mutter, but it's only half true.

You wonder if it's just your imagination, but in the seconds that follow, you think you can feel an deep, vibration flowing through Cal and passing through his body and into yours, binding your lifeforces together.

The rock flies so suddenly into your palm that you jump. You just about remember to close your fingers around the stone's cool, smooth surface as you shout out in surprise and delight. Cal lets out a good-natured laugh at your reaction and you glow as it rumbles through his whole body and yours.

You've just made up your mind to twist around in his arms kiss him when BD-1 comes running through the grass at great speed on his little legs, beeping and chirping urgently.

"Ok buddy, ok, we're coming," Cal says kindly to the little droid, but you can hear the exasperation at the untimely interruption in his voice.

*******************************************

Course set, the Mantis is travelling at lightspeed and, nestled safely in the cradle of the hyperlane, you will probably make it to Naboo in about six hours.

You suspect the rest of the crew are all sleeping soundly. The Mantis takes care of herself for the most part when travelling through hyperspace. With the life you lead, the importance of catching rest when you can cannot be underestimated.

You, however, cannot sleep. Thoughts of Cal and your interrupted moment by the lake race through your mind. The wildflowers he gave you are still in your hair and every so often you catch the ghost of their aroma, reminding you of your almost idyllic day on Brax.

You sigh and drag yourself out of bed, deciding to go and sit in the empty cockpit of the Mantis for a while and watch the stars race by as you hurtle through the hyperlane. Although it should really be frightening, you love to watch great swathes of the Galaxy disappear in a flash before your eyes as the Mantis catapults through space. It's a novel experience for you still - being off Coruscant, light speed travel, new worlds.

You wave your hand over the control and the door to your room hisses open. You jump to see a figure already standing there in the corridor. With a jolt of excitement, and with a strange feeling that you've summoned him somehow, you realise that it's Cal.

"Uh, hi.."

You don't let him get more than two words into his sentence. You grab him roughly by the front of his loose night shirt - which is slung low, revealing tufts of ginger hair on his chest and the elegant lines of his collarbone - and pull him into a deep kiss.

Not breaking away from your lips, and hardly hesitating, he picks you with almost alarming ease. You wrap your legs around his waist and curl your fingers in his red hair as he carries you back into your quarters. He places you up onto your workbench situated against the opposite wall as the door slides closed behind you.

"You look so pretty with those flowers in your hair," he mumbles into your neck you shiver with pleasure as his mouth brushes against your skin as he talks.

"Yes, it's a shame you're about to make such a mess of me," you whisper into his ear.

He pulls back to stare at you for a moment, green eyes wide as if dumbfounded by your forwardness. His delighted, slack-jawed expression forces a loud giggle from deep within you.

"Shhh," Cal warns emphatically, keenly aware of the proximity of the rest of the crew and how thin the walls of the Mantis are. He presses a kiss to your mouth in an attempt to silence your outburst, but you can feel his body shake with his own barely contained laughter as he grins against your lips.

Once your stifled mirth subsides, you hastily start to undress each other. You barely have time to appreciate the now naked, muscular form of the Jedi before you, when, in his enthusiasm to remove it, Cal accidentally rips your flimsy night dress away from your body. As it comes apart in his hands, the fabric makes a loud tearing sound, louder even perhaps than that of your previous bouts of laughter. You both freeze, as if anticipating someone will burst through the door and catch you in this compromising position, before dissolving into poorly restrained giggles again.

As he drinks in the sight of your body, Cal's expression changes into something primal. His brows knit together as if he is trying to understand how you could possibly be sitting in front of him like this. Then, his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare before he crashes his mouth back down on to yours into a deliciously rough kiss.

You don't move from your position on your workbench, and you coil your legs around Cal as tight as you can as he starts to move in you. The pace is urgent. You don't mind. There'll be opportunities for languid and gentle love-making in the future. Right now, this is a matter of need for both of you. The cord of tension that has been tightening between you for months finally snapping in a glorious, frenzied, explosion of mutual lust.

As his pace increases and his movements start to become uncoordinated, Cal moves a hand down between your bodies, splaying his palm against you, and settling the pad of his thumb between your legs at the very place you most need it to be.

At this, your hand which was tangled in his flaming hair flies down to join the other at his back and he growls as you claw your fingers in to his flesh between his shoulder blades.

You press your lips hard into his shoulder to muffle your cries as you approach your peak and then, suddenly, you are crashing over the edge and seeing stars. You gasp out his name, over and over, open mouthed and breathy against his ear.

This, combined with the sensation of your body in rapture, sends Cal hurtling towards his own oblivion. You cling to him while the great, strong muscles all over his body tense and release, and he lets out a long, shuddering groan into your neck that is almost a whimper.

The sight of him, the sound of him falling apart in front of you is beautiful.

Once you've both caught your breath, Cal lifts you gently off the table, and carries you to your tiny, single cot bed. You manage to position yourselves fairly comfortably in the snug space by lying on your sides. The Jedi has one arm laced underneath you with the other slung over your waist, hand resting on your stomach and holding you close to his warm chest.

As you are lulled almost into a doze by the sound and feel of his slow and steady heartbeat, you take in the rather sorry sight of the flowers which once bejewelled your hair, now scattered in ruin across the functional durasteel floor.

"I told you those flowers wouldn't last," you muse drowsily.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Cal removes his hand from your waist and reaches out his arm, palm splayed open. A blue bell flower, stem and petals astonishingly still intact- a brave survivor of the onslaught of urgent hands through your hair - floats lazily up from the floor and towards you on the bed.

Cal plucks it out of the air and gently weaves the bloom into your locks just above your ear. Then, he kisses you gently on the cheek and then on your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin, before sinking back down on to his side and resuming his previous position curled comfortingly around you.

For some reason, despite the eroticism of what you've just done together, this sweet gesture makes you flush disproportionately and you feel your cheeks turning pink.

You're starting to realise, perhaps hope, that the heady feeling of being slightly flustered in Cal Kestis' proximity might never go away.

[vgilantee]

not that I have any proper ideas yet but. gaz is going to have a similar story to cal kestis. a padawan and late teen/early 20s during order 66, fighting in the rebellion (maybe) as an adult

also currently price is a jedi but. subject to change.

ghost is a bounty hunter because sniper and also ghost is a sick bounty hunter name

[stealingpotatoes]

“poncho: jedi master edition” is such a good and necessary cal kestis form, seeing him attempt to teach a gaggle of padawans is simply the best thing i could imagine. i hope they also roast him sometimes in true middle schooler fashion <3

ok so i drew this AGES ago (way before the other post) and I think this counts as an excuse to post it! they probably do accidentally roast him a little but one of the ways they forget compassion in lieu of middle schooler "dont care about adults" is:

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #84: Star Wars, but make it the Outer Rim

I've been reading a lot of Star Wars fic lately, much of it involving time travel in some shape or form. Most of it is wonderful, but after a while some of it starts to read as let's fix the Republic so we can bring the light and civilization of the core to the outer rim. Which, while possibly disingenuous, feels a little too much like the justifications made by Europeans for their colonial empires.

As I said, I'm probably reading too much into certain tropes, but can't help but wonder: what if one of these fics started in the outer rim as a way of bringing light and goodness back to the core? Or: Save Tatooine, save the galaxy.

aka the One Prairie Outpost fic

Just imagine it:

Several years have passed after The Book of Boba Fett in the original timeline. While the New Republic calls Daimyo Fett's leadership just another crime syndicate masquerading as good government, anyone who's actually been to the planet knows it's the other way around. Most crime syndicates don't care for planetary infrastructure or public vaccination programs.

Boba has encouraged Din to use his palace as a base for his bounty hunting activities - and as a home planet for the small community of Mandelorians building around their Mand'alor. Ideally, this would be the start of a courtship that wouldn't be moving as slowly as it is if Din wasn't an oblivious idiot about 1) his feelings and 2) traditional Mandalorian courting, but it could also simply be vod'e being vod'e. Dealer's choice.

And so Din is on planet when someone tries to bribe Boba for one reason or another with an ancient Sith artifact.

Din calls in a Jedi from Luke's school to investigate - Cal Kestis, who is one of a handful of trained adults in the new Jedi Order and the most knowledgeable about weird force osik...

...which doesn't stop Cal from accidentally triggering the artifact and sending Boba, Din, and himself back in time to the year 53 BBY, shortly before Jaster Mereel is set to die in the Battle of Korda VI.

As if finding themselves on Tatooine approximately 66 years in the past - well before any of them were even born - isn't enough, all three find themselves in their teenage bodies. Boba and Din are somewhere between 15 and 17, when they have most of their adult height but none of their bulk, while Cal is disgusted to find himself a particularly short 12. This in no way reflects their real differences in ages, and they are forced to attribute it to more inexplicable force osik.

Despite their ages, this proves an opportunity to stop the Empire from ever forming. But how? None of them know enough about the precise course of events to begin to stop it, and even if they could manage to get the Jedi Council to listen to them, waltzing into the Jedi Temple and declaring themselves time travelers is bound to put them on Palaptine's radar in a way that is likely to end their painful deaths.

The solution, they decide, is to get the Jedi to come to them. After all, if they repeat Boba's actions from the future, overthrow the Hutts, and free the slaves on Tatooine, someone from the Jedi is bound to come and investigate.

Taking over Tatooine proves easier than their wildest dreams.

Killing Jabba the Hutt in his own throne room and transmitting a signal that jams slave chips across the planet is all that's needed to spark a general uprising against the slavers and Jabba's criminal empire.

It's a little less easy getting the representatives of the colonists, freed slaves, and native peoples to believe that a pair of teenage Mandos and a half-grown Jedi took out a member of the Grand Hutt Council, but once they hear Boba's plans to convert the planet's slave-based economy to a viable democracy funded in part by the wealth of Jabba's vaults, they're more than willing to vote him Daimyo. His actions more than make up for his apparent age.

The Republic is naturally less sanguine. Mandalorians on Tatooine? Is this the start of another war of conquest? (To say nothing that several of the more corrupt members are in the position to lose a lot of money if crime and slave trade is disrupted in the outer rim.) The Senate orders the Jedi to investigate.

The Jedi are also in an uproar. Not only do holos show a young force sensitive helping a pair of Mandos take over Tatooine, but one of those Mandos has a lightsaber the likes of which they've never seen. (Tensions between Jedi and the Mandalorians are such that no one recognizes the Darksaber for what it is or what it means.) Could this mean some dark side sect has sent some of their apprentices to help rebuild the Mandalorian Empire?

The Mandalorians are also unsettled - Death Watch because the Darksaber seems to have disappeared overnight, only to end up with a child in unpainted beskar half a galaxy away; the True Mandalorians because it looks to them that Death Watch might be sending children into battle to build the empire they're always going on about; and the New Mandolorians because this is exactly the kind of violence that gives Mandalore a bad name.

And all of this fails to take into account the Sith, who are naturally upset that the fear and despair they've worked so hard to cultivate on the edges of the Republic has been disrupted with something so light as hope.

All parties converge on Tatooine.

The Mandalorians arrive first. The True Mandalorians are just beginning to investigate when Death Watch decides to attack first and ask questions never.

Boba, Din, and Cal were expecting this and so have a plan in place that allow their forces to take down most of the terrorists while ensuring Jaster Mereel survives, thereby preventing Korda VI, Galidraan, and all that follows. Montross is killed in the fighting without his double cross ever being known.

This also manages to convince the True Mandalorians that they're just a bunch of kids trying to make their way in the galaxy, and while they ask why take over a planet? why not just join a mercenary guild?, Jaster can't deny that they're doing a good thing. He stations some of his people on planet and leaves them be, content Din isn't going to try to push his claim as Mand'alor and/or build another extremist terrorist sect around the Darksaber.

The Mandalorians leave right as a large number of Jedi arrive. In this party are most of their best lightsaber dualists, including a less jaded Yan Dooku and a young Qui-Gon Jinn (who is only a few months out from Xanatos' Fall and in desperate need of a mind healer). Forced proximity has made the later very clear to all the Jedi Masters involved, and this alone prevents many of the tragedies of Obi-Wan's early apprenticeship.

Qui-Gon's mental health aside, the Jedi presume they'll be attacked by dark siders the moment they touch down on Tatooine. Instead they're invited to the Daimyo's palace, given refreshments, and brought before the planet's new ruling council. Which includes two freed slaves, a wizened Tusken grandmother, a pair of moisture farmers, and a representative from one of the cantinas in addition to a pair of teenage Mandos and a young force sensitive.

This meeting goes a long way to convincing the Jedi that what's happening on Tatooine could be a good thing - particularly after Boba turns over everything they could find regarding some of Jabba's dealings with several shady senators and businessmen within the bounds of the Republic. Including one young senator, Sheev Palpatine of Naboo. While several are able to talk their way out of trouble, it removes the worst of Palpatine's future lackeys from power.

The Jedi also invite Cal to come back with them to the temple to "finish" his training. Cal invites them instead to build a satellite temple on Tatooine. After all, there's no reason why a religious order should be tied to the Republic government, and setting up a temple in the outer rim would allow the Jedi to help those on the outer rim more easily, without waiting for the approval of the Senate.

The Jedi obviously don't agree right away - but it does mean that they come back fairly often to discuss the particulars, meaning that someone is on planet when the Sith decide the best way to fix their plans is to try to assassinate the young Daimyo and his allies, revealing the Sith's continued existence decades early.

Which is where my plot bunny starts to fizzle out.

With Jaster Mereel alive, the True Mandalorians have a real chance of stopping both the terrorism of Death Watch and the cultural genocide of the New Mandalorians, leaving Mandalore in a position of strength versus the Republic. So long as this remains the case, plans for a New Sith Empire must be put on hold.

With the shadiest characters removed from the Senate, it's harder for a Sith to take charge of it - especially when a strengthening Tatooine continues to disrupt smuggling and slave trafficking in the outer rim, reducing the darkness and the funds he has access to.

And so though the details are up to the dealer, taking over Tatooine disrupts the Sith's machinations enough that they're forced to show their hands too soon, and thus defeated before they can ever give rise to the empire. It's not easy, but it involves a lot less suffering than the original timeline.

Bonuses include: 1) Merrin and Grogu also traveling through time as a result of the force bonds that they have with Cal and Din respectively. They wake up on the currently uninhabited planet Luke's school will occupy in the future rather than Tatooine and have to go through a quest of their own to get off planet and rejoin the others. This should involve accidentally helping the other's plans to prevent the empire, such as by disrupting a crime syndicate or blowing up the Trade Federation's first droid factory; 2) Teenagers being teenagers. These kids may have been adults in the future with all their adult memories, but they've got teenage bodies now and it shows; and 3) Boba and company never outright admitting they're time travelers, but dropping enough hints to the relevant parties that they eventually come to that conclusion on their own. Only then do they share the details of the horrible future they've prevented.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

More SW Fic Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[novaonhere]

Buddy System

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal wanted to go out on his own, but after not being by his side for quite some time, you bring up something you learned back at the Temple when you were just a youngling.

Word Count: 880

Warnings: Nah, sexy time proposed in a funny way

A/N: Bored at work so clearing through my drafts, here’s a quick blurb

Prompt: "Then why did you even come along?" "Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong."

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

The crew, such to Cal’s disappointment, wanted to take a day break on Koboh at the cantina. After a few weeks hunting down bounty hunters, everyone was exhausted. Cal finally caved when you fell over after standing for a few minutes from pure exhaustion.

Cal was restless. He wanted to keep the go-go-go mentality, and keep hitting them when they thought they could take a breather. He wasn’t used to breaks; he was used to running, fighting, pushing through.

He sat outside the cantina, tinkering with his saber with BD-1 at his side. He watched the people come and go, wanting to follow one that started their journey outside the city. BD-1 tries to entertain him, chirping some songs that he picked up from Greez and yourself. It only worked for ten minutes.

You’ve kept an eye on Cal as soon as you landed. You knew he wouldn’t be able to sit in one spot for longer than a few hours. Staying aboard the Mantis, you used this time to lay on the boarding ramp, using the ship as shade to read a few books. Every so often, you peeled over your book to see if Cal was still there, which he was.

You got to a good part of the book and hyper focused for a bit too long. Finally, after you flipped to the next chapter, you peered over to see your boyfriend gone. Aw crap, there he goes. You should’ve done more to help him relax, but he’s an adult he can manage. Well, apparently not. Throwing your book inside, you hop to your feet and take a better look. There goes the red head, following a raider towards their base. Something’s up.

You manage to find a balance of quickly walking and slowly jogging to catch up and hopefully not be suspicious. Cal flicks his head back and notices you making your way up. He doesn’t make a face as you look your arm into his.

“I watched him leave someone’s home with that bag, I have a bad feeling. The owner of the house was also crying.” Cal whispers, pointing to the large bag that the raider had in his hand. You nod.

“Now or later?” You ask, Cal shaking his head.

“I want to see where he’s going, see if there’s more stuff they’ve stolen.” The raider turns around to see us, but we wave and continue walking past him, coming up with a story to seem less suspicious. You both walk slow, causing the raider to groan and bump through you too to continue on.

“Well I’m coming with, obviously.” You smile, using your free arm to pat his arm. Cal seems annoyed.

“No, today was your rest day.” He whisper argues with you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“And to you, and you know that we don’t like others dipping by themselves.” You roll your eyes. “Do you know remember what we learned at the Temple?” Cal blinks blankly, obviously confused.

“The buddy system?” You ask, Cal shaking his head. “Seriously? Damn, we didn’t like that lesson as much so I figured you didn’t like it as much.”

“If you don’t like the buddy system, then why did you even come along?” Cal grumbles, not wanting their cover to be blown. You could care less about the raider and trying to talk to your boyfriend.

"Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong." You scowl, just too loud. The raider finally turns around, shoving his weapon to your chin.

“We are out of town, what business do you folks have with my team?” He hisses as you throw your hands up.

“Sir, we were told to follow a raider heading out of town to pay someone back.” You explain, the raider slowly lowering his weapon.

“Who?”

“You all look the same.” You state blankly, Cal holding in a scoff of laughter. The raider doesn’t seem amused.

“I’m not going anywhere,” The raider stands facing you two, crossing his arms. “You’ll have to wait for the correct man.” You and Cal look at each other, coming to the same agreement. Cal flings into action, bashing the raider back with the butt of his saber. Stunned, the raider drops the bag, giving you time to grab it and run. Cal follows, leaving the raider gasping for breath, laying on the ground.

“When we return this, you are going to properly rest.” You shout at him as you both run into town.

“Oh yeah? How?” He scowls, catching up to you.

“You look pretty relaxed after an hour in the bedroom.” You smile, shocking Cal. He smiles widely like a happy boy on Christmas morning.

“Give me the bag, and meet me on the ship.” He exclaims, slowing down as you reach town. You both stop and you give him a quick peck on the cheek. He rushes into the house, startling the owner.

Giggling, you make your way towards the Mantis. Before you get too far, you feel a pair of hands snake around you, turning you around. Cal places a sweet kiss to your lips before throwing you over his shoulders. You shriek in delight as he takes off to the launch pad, a few passer byers giggling at your shenanigans.

[paquerette-san]

Time traveler Cal Kestis

Il love time travel (especially fix-it time travel, with a pinch of crack involved)

And I love angst-filled caracters being flung through time for more angst.

And Star Wars has the potential for time travel and other shit. And I've been reading Cal Kestis time travel fics so...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Imagine post-Survivor Cal travelling on the Mantis with his rag-tag family, desperate to find a young adult Kata.

Kata, who's fallen to the dark side. Kata, who struggled with her memories, with her father's legacy and sins, with Cal's guilt. She understood why Cal had no choice and has forgiven him. He's her surrogate dad, he and Merrin did their best. But at the same time, he's the one who's killed her father. In her desperation and sadness she travels through the galaxy. She visits a lot of planets. She crosses Cal's path many times and he tries to guide her back to the light but he fails. Sometimes, she immerges herself in the darkness so much that she's barely able to see the light. Sometimes she serenely meditates in the light for hours. But she never reaches the answers she seeks.

She's touched by the dark, her emotions twisted, her feelings raw, but she's not lost. And Cal never gave up on her.

So she chooses to return to her family, to the ones that helped her to mourn and to heal, the ones that did their best to help her.

She waits for them near a temple on a planet where the force is strong. She knows when they comme planetside, her bond with Cal and Merrin muted but still strong. They come to her, silent but not judging and she welcomes them.

It takes some time for everyone but they manage to balance things. They repair what can be fixed and adapt to the changes. Cal and Kata meditate together to repel the darkness and to help Kata.

It's during one of these session that a ripple in the force occurs.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were exploring the ruins of a temple and found a wide room with running water that has a nice ring to it. The sat crosslegged in front of each others, knees touching and breath relaxing while they immerged themselves in the force. They let time slip through their fingers and their mind settle. Overall it's a nice meditation that leave them both content.

But when they wake up, they have a strange feeling, like the world tilted to the side and didn't right itself after.

They wander in the temple and find it changed : it's old but it looks less desolate. The force around them is lighter ; stronger and alive. It's even more weird outside : there's no Mantis or Merrin to greet them, only the wilderness.

They find their answer later, when they get ahold of a ship and start to travel to the places they know and find them changed.

They traveled through time while they were meditating.

The revelation send them reeling. (They already have lost so much, why did they have to suffer more ?) they don't handle it particularly well and Kata almost falls back to the sark side in her despair.

They choose to travel again in the wide galaxy, trying to help but sticking to the shadows. They fight dark users of the force and sabotage some Separatist bases to help the Republic, without disclosing their identities. That make them wanted by both sides but they don't care.

During those times, they end up finding a strange solar system. The various planets hold temples : some are jedi, some are sith and some are neutral in the force. With Cal psychometry, and his habit of exploring ruins, they discover a very ancient culture with a peculiar relation to the force and kyber.

The temples are connected and through the force and the ancient culture, it allows a force sensitive to connect with a kyber crystal.

Cal et Kata, who traveled and fought for a long time, are entranced by the possibilities. They see a way to heal and to help so they decide to try it.

They start they pilgrimmage, with the rituals and the meditation with the objective to balance themselves and to go back to the light. They bring with them the bleeding kyber of the dark users they defeated.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They get spotted by a clone scout that report to the jedis (there is no activity near the temples that are abandonned, but those two shapes just entered a sith temple). The jedis send an explorer who spies on them and sees their strange ritual (meditation in the middle of a sith temple, music and danse while doing katas...).

After that report, the council chooses to send a party with a jedi master and a jedi knight to make contact with the duo.

They send Anakin and Obi-Wan, as they are near the solar system and are due some down-time from the front-line. Obi-Wan is curious about the report, Anakin is annoyed at the lack of challenge.

They meet with the clone scout and let themselves be guided to the position of the two figures. They follow and observe them from a safe distance, hiding as much as possible. They see them entering temples on the various planets of the solar system, indifferent to the influence in the force (jedi, sith or other). They watch with mild fascination as they dance and play music, around bled kybers that start to show signs of purification.

They see a young girl with golden eyes that seems at peace and feel lighter and lighter in the force and an older man with flamboyant hair that guides her when she relapses to the dark. They see her blood red saber that become lighter and lighter as time passes on.

Then they watch them enter a few temples, perform different dances and see the girl saber gain color again. It glows slowly, a light violet, then it gains strength and end up a beautiful indigo color. Her eyes return to brown, with a few specs of gold in them, and she stands proud, but humble.

Obi-Wan thinks that now that the girl is back from the dark side, they will abandon this pilgrimmage but he is mistaken. To their surprise, they don't. They keep traveling to purify the other kyber crystal they brought.

They keep observing them in the hope of seeing the ginger's saber (is he a sith ? or not ?) but it doesn't happen.

In the end, the kyber crystal are purified and the duo disappear in a blinding light. But the crystals remain and the force sings where they passed by. If a force sensitive is to go in those temples, they will feel the shadow of their dance and the song of their will.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

At last, during another meditation, Cal and Kata manage to go back to their time and to rejoin their family.

Kata is at peace again and Cal is more assured in his role.

[seven-oomen]

Since I've had quite a bad day today I decided to pauze the writing for Caught somewhere in time for the day and instead work on some Clone / Clone wars headcanons of my own that I'm going to include in the fic. Link now under cut!!

A few things that will be a plot point:

Parentage of Cal Kestis (Like one of them is Obi-Wan, but the other...??? I know, you don't.)

Romance of Cody and Obi-Wan

Sibling relationship between Anakin, Cal, and Ahsoka

Corruption in the senate (Sith Lord and after)

Way to free the clones and end order 66 (chip storyline)

Headcanons:

The Jedi can tell all the clones apart by their presences in the force. It's like a second nature to them. They never mix them up.

Cody likes to knit.

Obi-Wan finds that an absolute delight and happily provides him with the materials and anything else he needs.

Although all the clones can technically count as 'twins' only the ones that shared a gestational pod are considered official twins among the clones. Fives and Echo are among these twins. The prevalence of 'twin births' is about 3%.

Triplets also occur but they are much rarer, there have been three documented cases in the history of the clone troopers. I kinda wanna headcanon that Cody, Fox, and Wolffe are one of these triplets. Out of the three Cody was the smallest at birth. (He caught up later just fine).

Echo has a photographic memory, Fives has a natural gift to spot patterns and connections.

Wolffe seems like a stuck up hardass, but he's an actual softie on the inside and has a knack for sensing when his brothers or others need him the most. His pack is his life.

Fox honors his name by having a very mischievous streak with his brothers. Even if he seems to be a bitch for the rules in every day life, his brothers know him better than that.

Wolffe is excellent at poker.

Fox and Echo battle for the title of Holo-tactic champion.

Waxer is actually fantastic with kids, this stems from his time in training, when he would often visit his little cadet brothers and spend time with them.

Kix is an excellent cook.

Cody can't cook to save his life. Neither can Obi-Wan. Fortunately Obi-Wan knows the right people who can cook.

All the clones are caf drinkers, black, no additives.

Rex carves jewelry like bracelets for everyone, Cody puts trackers in everything Rex carves, or he knits. He'll find a way.

All the clones have unique sleeping positions. It's one of the ways to tell them apart.

Cal and Anakin have a brotherly rivalry, to the point where Cal has actively tried to electrocute Anakin, and Anakin has attempted to force push Cal down a flight of stairs. But if anyone else tries to harm one of them, the other unleashes hellfire upon the assailant.

Cal and Ahsoka quickly become best friends and team up against Anakin whenever the situation allows for it. Obi-Wan actively encourages this, it's hilarious to him.

Among Anakin, Ahsoka, and Cal; Obi-Wan is known as mom. Cody is dubbed 'dad' at some point. The other clones find this hilarious.

While Ahsoka starts as a relatively short teenager, her species tends to grow larger than the average human. So by the time she's an adult, she stands at a respective 200 cm (6'6.7). Anakin hates this in particular, because he was used to being the tallest in the group.

And that's what I got so far. Will probably add more at some point.

[lesbian-cal-kestis]

it's all downhill from here (in the outer nowhere)

Summary: Cal Kestis is reminded of his past, causing havoc while trapped in a memory he will never forget. Title from Bleed Me an Ocean by Acid Bath.

Warning/s: Minor Character Death

Pairing: Merrin/Cal

Characters: Cal Kestis, Nightsister Merrin, Greez Dritus, BD-1, Kata Akuna (mentioned), Prauf (mentioned), Jaro Tapal (mentioned), Original Character/s

Additional tags: Cal Kestis needs a hug, he doesn't get one, canon-typical violence, angst, hurt no comfort, okay maybe there's a little comfort, post-Jedi: Survivor, Planet Jakku (Star Wars), panic attack, dismemberment (brief mention), Cal needs to understand that avoiding his problems is not a substitute for therapy, flashbacks, Order 66 (Star Wars), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Language: English

Word count: 3.1k

Cal Kestis was by no means a lucky man. 

Three of the previous missions he embarked on had gone sour, the Empire somehow finding him at every turn; he didn’t doubt this mission would be any different. Time and time again, the people he tried to help would be killed or captured or maimed or-

“Kid, grab some seat! We’re coming in on Jakku - lots of Imperial chatter going on there…” His pilot, the vertically-challenged hairball he’d been venturing with for most of his adult life, announced over the ship's communications system. 

Cal inhaled shakily, wrapping his hands around his lightsaber and fighting the urge to sense the few echoes he had not seen. Imps were never a good sign, but the young man could only hope the force would fulfil his request for a peaceful rescue just this once. 

The hyperspace travel time was long enough for Cal to familiarise himself with the Hidden Path’s target; an Abednedo male, relatively tall with a solid build, who had an impressive collection of communication codes stored in his safehouse. The codes also contained locations of hidden refugees throughout the galaxy, all hiding from the Empire for one reason or another, and the Path was bent on assisting them no matter the cost.

Cal jogged into the Stinger Mantis’ cockpit, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair - his rightful spot, now that Cere was gone. He looked back towards the cockpit section that allowed the Mantis to track communications from external channels, eyeing Merrin in her position, her eyes firm on the console. Her hair was tied up in a style that Cal adored - A neat bun with a few stray hairs that weren’t long enough to be tied up hanging down, framing her face beautifully. He couldn’t get over how gorgeous she was. 

He then looked to his left, opposite where the Nightsister was seated, and let his gaze rest softly on Kata. It was hard for him to believe how much she had grown and matured, even with her father's absence. She may not have been force-sensitive, but she made up for her lack of abilities with “space magic” - a term that Merrin laughed at - with her capabilities in marksmanship. 

“Cal, you are staring.” Merrin pointed out, her voice sending a wave of warmth throughout Cal’s body, her soft tone putting a slight smile on his face. 

Turning back to look out through the windshields at the barren planet below, Cal noted the Star Destroyers that weren’t far off from them; far enough away not to notice them, but relatively close to their mark. The planet reminded him of Jedha, with plenty of ancient sites burrowed beneath the sand, grasping at the force for somebody to tell their story to. 

Not today, Cal thought. I have somebody to meet. 

Descending into the atmosphere of Jakku, the city of Reetskii grew as they flew across the horizon. The Mantis crew marvelled at the structures they flew past, watching the sands of time move with the winds the ship created as it sped through, eager to find the Abednedo. 

There were few landing bays in the near-forgotten city, but it made sense to have less than 10 areas for spacecraft. Reetskii roughly translated to “the leftovers” in Galactic Basic Standard, having no minerals or ores to mine, and barely enough agricultural facilities to support the settlement - the perfect place to hide away from the Empire. 

Though, not perfect enough, it seemed. 

Upon docking, Cal eyed a stormtrooper squad, their armour gleaming harshly in the Jakkuvian sunlight. It was almost blinding, and had Cal not turned around, he was sure he would have had colourful spots dancing in his eyes from the glint. The Abednedo’s hideout was visible from the landing pad the Mantis was stationed on, his purple skin only just noticeable through a gap in the door. 

“You guys see that?” Cal asked, kneeling behind the ship’s controls to remove himself from the trooper’s field of view. “Small batch of troopers right near the hideout. Do you think they found out about the codes?”

“No,” Merrin replied, squinting to get a better look at the area around their mark. “I do not think they did. The Abednedo is still alive, his body would be dumped outside the building and covered in scorch marks if they knew of the codes.”

“They might want him alive.”

“They do not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, Kestis. They have no reason to take him alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually”

“Well if you know so karking much why don’t you just-”

Greez cleared his throat, eyes darting nervously between Cal and Merrin. The Latero knew things had been on edge for them lately, and stars knows what caused it, but they had a mission to focus on. Bickering like an old married couple was helping nobody. 

Rolling his eyes and standing from his crouched position, Cal put his arm out to the ship's console, BD-1 taking his place on his shoulder. 

The clock was ticking, and minute by minute the deadline to retrieve the codes was drawing closer. 

Exiting the Mantis to set foot on the dusty walkway of the landing bay, Cal walked with purpose towards the Abednedo’s residence, his gaze flittering around between multiple threats he took mental note of. Funny, he thought, we’ve been communicating with this guy for three cycles and we still don’t know his name. And it was true; the Abednedo was nameless thus far, merely being referred to as “the Jakku contact”. It made Cal feel uneasy, not being able to put a name to the face - it allowed his mind to wander too far, likening the Abednedo to… him. 

Pulling up the hood of his lightweight poncho, Cal continued to close the gap between him and the building the contact was located in, BD letting out a string of beeps and trills. 

There’s a lot of Imperials around here, the droid noted, Merrin might’ve been wrong. 

Oh, how Cal loved it when his little companion took his side during his and Merrin’s spats - it made him feel less lonely in the world. The boy let out a slight chuckle, more a huff of laughter than anything, and strode closer to the door that held the codes. His gait remained confident, to not give away his anxiousness about the entire situation. The force signatures that resided within Reetskii were ill at ease, almost screaming to Cal that something was wrong.

He ignored them. 

Knocking on the door of the hideout, Cal rocked gently on his feet, energy buzzing around him. A small security hatch opened, with a singular eye visible through it - the eye was waiting for a password.  

“Tanalorr welcomes you,” the redhead muttered loud enough for the individual behind the door to hear him. He picked up on the sound of a complex locking mechanism opening, the door sliding open just enough for him to squeeze through. Cal jumped as a large hand rested on his shoulder, his gaze rising to look at the being before him. 

Prauf-

“I got to give you the codes now, kid. Don’t know if you noticed, but the Imps are sniffing around like starved tooka-cats,” the purple-hued brown-skinned humanoid stated, his mahogany eyes trained on Cal, alerting him to the urgency of this task - but Cal couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move. 

Cal knew that he would struggle with this mission before the Mantis entered its two-day-long hyperspace journey to Jakku. He didn’t think he’d freeze up under the watchful eye of an Abednedo that was the spitting image of the second person in Cal’s life to sacrifice their existence so his could continue. Eyes beginning to well with tears that would forever remain unshed, the boy shook his head lightly to bring himself out of his catatonic state. 

“Yeah, yeah, the uh- the codes, right,” he stuttered, grabbing the data disk that contained the valuable information from the Abednedo’s outstretched hand (when had he outstretched his hand?), offering it to BD-1 for safekeeping. “Are you coming with us? There’s plenty of space on the Mantis -  the Hidden Path could use somebody as versatile as you,” he questioned, instilling his tone with a kind of curiosity he could not will himself to truly feel at the current point in time, his mind digging memories to the surface that he would prefer to have stayed buried. 

“That’s the plan, kid,” the contact replied, grabbing a small bag of supplies from a hook behind him. He was dressed casually, with clothing that would keep his large form cool in the desert heat. Cautiously stepping out from the hideout, the Abednedo took a wary glance around, ensuring the stormtroopers wouldn’t notice their hasty departure. 

The Abednedo signalled for Cal to follow him, so he did. Weaving through relatively small alleyways and passing by market stalls, it was evident that the red-haired human was being led a backway to the Mantis’ location. 

They couldn’t be more than twenty paces from docking bays when Cal heard it- the unmistakable shout of a stormtrooper alerting his peers to an individual running around with a lightsaber on his belt. There was no star system in which this could be good for them. 

“You! Stop right where you are, in the name of the Empire!” The trooper shouted, his blaster aimed directly at Cal’s heart. Looking back to the Abednedo, who already had his palms raised in surrender, he knew a split-second decision had to be made. 

Reaching slowly for his lightsaber, the trooper stalked closer to the unlikely pair - perhaps not all that unlikely on Jakku, but still unlikely - barking orders at Cal to not do what he was thinking of doing. Hearing the plastoid dog alerting the rest of his squad to the presence of the Jedi, he knew it was too late to stop what was happening. Blaster bolts began racing towards Cal and the contact, being easily reflected by the Jedi’s brilliant orange ‘saber, its glow matching that of the desert sunset that was encroaching on the horizon. 

The death of the reporting trooper seemed to summon two, three, ten more in front of the two men, most wielding blasters with a few baton-wielding hounds accompanying them. If he were on his own, this group would be easy to dispatch. With an ally in tow, however - not so easy. He would have to keep note of any stray blaster bolts, fired or reflected. He’d have to take note of who the baton wielders were targeting, he’d have to-

The hum of a crimson lightsaber. A scream so primal that it reawakened the abilities of the force that the padawan had lost during the purge. The unmistakable thump of a body hitting the ground.

Except this time, it wasn’t a lightsaber. It wasn’t a scream. It was a shout of surprise, and a body hitting the ground. A body hit the ground. It hit the ground, it hit the ground, it hit the-

An electrified prod woke Cal from his panic, reminding him he was still in a fight. Reminding him he wasn’t on Bracca, he wasn’t being stared down by Inquisitors as he helplessly watched his best friend be murdered in cold blood. He was on Jakku. He was on Jakku, gathering contact codes for the Hidden Path. He was on Jakku, following Prauf - no, not Prauf, an unnamed Abednedo - to the Mantis. 

An unnamed Abednedo that sat against a wall, head slumped, body motionless. An Abednedo that had thumped to the ground. An Abednedo that, like Prauf, was dead. He was dead. Because of Cal and his carelessness and his incorrect assumption that his lightsaber wouldn’t be seen. The incorrect assumption that nobody would notice him slow time, that nobody would notice him use the force. 

Cal couldn’t think. 

He couldn’t breathe.

Prauf, his body lifeless, the ever-present spark in his eyes dissipating, his force signature disappearing, the blade in his chest extinguishing. 

Lifeless. 

Dissipating. 

Extinguished. 

Dead. 

And then Cal was on the Albedo Brave, clones firing at him, his master urging him to activate the controls for the escape pods, and this time? This time, he would fight back. 

Cal spun his ‘saber in his hand, raising it above his head with determination and striking down any clone that dared to show its helmeted face to him. One, two, three, ten clones were dispatched, limbs and heads rolling across the deck of the ship, and as Cal turned around to check on his master, nothing had changed. 

His master lay lifeless on the floor of the escape pod, the rise and fall of his chest dissipating, his life extinguishing before Cal’s eyes. Dead.

One thing had changed throughout all the chaos and confusion felt by the young padawan. 

No last words were exchanged. 

And, Merrin was beside him.

She was resting a loving hand on his cheek, turning his gaze from his Master - no, it was Prauf, and then his Master again - to her. The warmth of Merrin’s touch helped slightly with grounding the boy, but nowhere near what either had hoped.

“Merrin, Merrin you need to go, the Clones are coming, and the Inquisitors, I can’t hold them off for long but you need to run,” he stammered out, breaths ragged and eyes darting around frantically, unable to shake the surroundings his brain had convinced him were real. The walls were closing in, or at least it felt they were to the Jedi. He felt small next to the Nightsister, his juvenile form from the Purge enveloping him the way a jaw plant would to smother its prey. Cal’s breathing continued to be erratic as he brought his hands to the back of his head, interlocking his fingers and rocking himself back and forth in a sorry attempt to release himself from the memories that plagued him. 

A distant voice spoke, and though Cal could not make out what it was saying, he could tell it was trying to comfort him as smoke shrouded him, followed by a flash of green and a feeling of warmth surrounding the young boy. 

He was so, so tired. 

Maybe he should sleep.

Something was wrong, Merrin could tell that much on her own. Even without force abilities as complex as Cal Kestis’, she had enough insight with the power Dathomir bestowed upon her to tell that something was wrong. She had already instructed Greez to start the engines of the ship, and to keep it idle until her return - she didn’t doubt her decision. 

Coming across a tide of amputated appendages and the smell of charred flesh, Merrin’s belief that Cal was in trouble further solidified itself in her mind. Seeing him crouched over a body, body shaking as he took harsh, jagged breaths. She had seen her Jedi like this before, when they had shared a bed at night and he tossed and turned so viciously that he unconsciously threatened to fall out of the Mantis’ sleeping cots. How could he be having a nightmare in broad daylight? Was he sleepwalking? No, he couldn’t be - he was awake when he left to gather the codes, and he slept as well as he could the previous night. Maybe it was what Cere had told her about all those moons ago, something that resembled a nightmare while the person suffering was awake. 

Merrin believed Cere had called it a ‘flashback’. She couldn’t be entirely certain, however. 

As she approached Cal, Merrin could hear him mumbling hurriedly, his sentences sporadic and nonsensical to ears unfamiliar with his past. He was sputtering about how he had failed, and how he was sorry, begging please Prauf I’m sorry, please Prauf, please wake up. The names changed from Prauf to Master too many times for Merrin to keep track. 

She had no idea how to stop this, she didn’t know if she could stop this, but Dathomir be damned if she didn’t try. 

Reaching out an ungloved hand, Merrin rested her palm gently on Cal’s cheek, softly turning his face towards her and away from the body of their contact. Cal had a far-away look to him as if he was looking through her instead of at her, as if he was standing on a planet and looking absent-mindedly to the stars. She rubbed circles on his jawbone with her thumb, willing him to wake from this nightmare, to come back to her and the gifts the future would provide.

And he did. 

Just not in the way she had hoped he would. 

The terror visible in Cal’s eyes tore apart Merrin’s heart, the tears in his eyes falling without shame. Her Jedi was being tortured by his mind, and though he was aware she was here, he did not wake. Spouting out obscenities about the Clones and the Inquisitors closing in, how they would hurt her and how he would hold them off for as long as he could, Cal rose to his feet. He ignited his lightsaber, in a stance that would allow him to block or parry any blows thrown at him, but there were no enemies nearby. There were no Clones or Inquisitors, nor were there any Stormtroopers nearby - he had already dispatched them in ways far more barbaric than Merrin had seen him use before. 

“At ease, my Jedi. You are okay, there is nobody here but you and me. Rest, allow sleep to overcome you,” she whispered tenderly into his ear, worried she might cause him to run. The magic she imbued into her words stopped his flight response, attempting to lull him into a dreamless slumber. Curling himself into the fetal position, Cal sat down and rested against the wall of a hut, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He was… scared. What had he seen that terrified him to the extent it made him regress into a child-like mindset? She could only wonder, as she knew asking Cal any questions while he was in this state would result in answers that made no sense. 

Allowing her magic to surround both of them, Merrin summoned them back to the Mantis, laying Cal down on the potolli-weave fabric of the couch cushions. Greez and Kata looked on with concern, but all she had to do was give a slight nod and they were off, making their way home to Tanalorr. 

Her Jedi could rest easy tonight.

[fanfoolishness]

Cal Kestis headcanons, apropos of nothing:

He crash-landed in the wastes of Bracca after Order 66. Dazed and wounded, his connection to the Force suddenly painful and frightening for the first time in his life, he tried to bury Master Topal — but he couldn’t lift his Lasat master from the escape pod, nor effectively use the Force to hide the pod with stones from the wastes. He was forced to abandon his master again, a guilt he carried with him for many years.

He found his way to the Mining Guild outpost more or less by luck. The Force guided him with a vision of sparks and metal, but he could not see it more clearly, relying more on a feeling than any sense of where he was going. On the outskirts he saw holos about the Jedi’s “betrayal” and cut his Padawan braid with Master Topal’s lightsaber, the last time he would ignite it for several years.

Prauf took one look at the shellshocked kid with muddy, scraggly robes and a fresh blaster wound to the face, and marched him straight to the guild outfitters for new clothes and a job. When the guild rep asked who the kid was Prauf told them he was a distant relative. Very distant. By marriage.

The Scrapper Guild tattoo was mandatory after a week on the job, when it was clear Cal probably wasn’t going to die immediately from the work, and was worth claiming as an worker. A droid stamped the image out onto his forearm in a matter of minutes. It hurt, but it was a distant, muted pain that barely registered. It startled him for weeks when he would catch sight of it. As an adult, the tattoo is an afterthought. He’s considered removing or embellishing it - plenty of backwater tattooists out here on the Rim - but he always winds up leaving it. He’s not ashamed of the time he put in on Bracca, nor the skills he learned there.

He didn’t realize he had a scar for weeks after the fall of the Albedo Brave. They didn’t keep mirrors in the scrappers’ quarters and there was nowhere else to go. He caught sight of his face in a shipside stretch of hammered durasteel on a rare sunny day, and the harsh red line rippling from his neck to his cheek shocked him. He stared at it until he got yelled at, and he got back to work, cheeks flushing with shame.

The scrapper uniform shop included heavy durable ponchos that stood up to the rain and repelled sparks and oil. When the outfitter droid plonked one over his head Cal didn’t argue, even though it was enormous on him. It was far enough from his robes that Cal felt safe and hidden, but close enough that he felt at home. He’s kept one in his wardrobe ever since, and wears them when memories press closer than he’d like.

Cal doesn’t sleep well, even into his twenties; shadowy dreams, sleep talking, night terrors. By the time of Survivor, it’s much better than it used to be: Cere taught him specific meditations he could use to help clear his mind, Greez kept the Mantis stocked with tea that helped him fall asleep faster, and Merrin used to sit up with him if he woke up in a panic. But it’s still his most vulnerable time, and when things are especially hard or emotional, he’s more likely to slip back into the fractured sleep he had throughout his teens.

As a new scrapper he once fell asleep while at a dangerous post, and the foreman screamed at him over it. (Not out of worries for his safety, but because it’d be annoying to find another worker as small and agile on short notice should he plummet to his death.) Prauf found him headphones and a little track player a few days later, told him to blast the music when he needed to stay awake. Every few weeks Prauf just happened to find another track to add to his collection.