#also say it with me: fuck saw gerrera

[defective-and-effective]

TECH IS NOT DEAD I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT HE’S DEAD

WE DIDNT SEE A BODY

denial

TECH WAS WEARING SEVERAL POUNDS WORTH OF PLASTIC-ALLOY ARMOR, INCLUDING A BACKPACK, AND A HELMET THAT GOES OVER HIS GOGGLES

denial

HEMLOCK IS A LIAR

denial

SIMILAR CINEMATOGRAPHY TO ECHO’S “death”

denial

HES THE ONLY CHARACTER TO HAVE PROPERLY DEVELOPED ON-SCREEN (besides crosshair, love him)

denial

HE AND PHEE ARE SET UP TO HAVE A PROPER REUNION

denial

HE’S PROPERLY REPRESENTING THE ASD COMMUNITY AND GIVING US THAT FEELING OF BELONGING

denial

[darlin-djarin]

You’re very strange. Sid isn’t a poc, her voice actress is a white woman, and Saw has been portrayed as a negative character before TBB came out, yet y’all sit on this app and use TBB as a scapegoat for deeply rooted racism within Disney that’s been there for 50+ years. If you don’t like TBB bc of all the reasons you say, stop watching Disney shows as a whole. Mind you, one of the main characters of the show you fav so much (Mandalorian) had a GENUINE racist woman on there for two seasons, or let’s speak on Ahsoka which has a transphobic actress playing her. Let’s also remember how John Boyega and Moses Ingram were treated as well. TBB has its own problems, but it’s funny how y’all ignore real world racism with real people.

are you. fucking serious.

first of all, sid does count as a “poc” (the term poc barely exists outside of america and white dominated countries, but what i’m saying is that sid is not the equivalent to a white woman). no alien is white. just because someone’s actor is white doesn’t mean the character, especially since it’s an alien, is white. (not to mention that sid’s characterization is an antisemetic stereotype). hell, pedro pascal considers himself a white latino and din djarin is still a poc character. and yeah saw has been portrayed in a negative view but that’s because everyone else is seen as an angel and all pure and morally correct, while making saw a bad guy for doing things to the extreme, which is absolutely necessary when it’s for the greater good for the rebellion. just because i don’t like tbb doesn’t mean suddenly i can’t enjoy other shows. you sound so fucking stupid right now.

and hey, using the mandalorian against me isn’t gonna work 💀💀 i’ve made my fair share about how racist the show is as well, bringing up bo-katan and her racism (and extremism, but she gets to be celebrated and adored for it, while saw gerrera just gets more racism for it) and how the show uses and discards polynesian culture, which is what mandalorians are based on, to the directors liking. i’ve spoken up a MILLION times about the problems in a million different shows, even my favorites, because just bc i like something doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be criticized when something about it may be harmful to real life audiences getting represented (or not represented) that way.

i don’t know anything about ahsoka or her actress so i can’t speak on that, but if you look through my ahsoka posts, i haven’t been exactly praising the show either 💀 i’ve been giving it criticism as well, especially for it’s visuals and it’s choice in actors that were hired.

i don’t “ignore” real world racism, i obviously fucking care about it, since it affects me and so many other people in the world, but this is a star wars blog. i talk about star wars and it’s media and criticize it when i see something wrong with it and i state my opinions. fiction reflects reality, and vice versa, so even if the problems in this fictional show, tbb, aren’t “technically” real, it can still harm real people who watch that and see themselves represented in a bad way or in an inappropriate manner. being represented on screen is something so special and seeing all the racism that goes on in that show is truly fucking awful.

this is why i hate fucking talking about this show. because y’all bad batch supporters are SO quick to defend your show, y’all come into my inbox and talk shit. no one said you can’t enjoy some aspects. but you need to know how this show can harm people irl with the things that happen in it, reflecting upon reality.

[stars-n-spice]

Thoughts on s3 ep14!

Woke up at like 12:10 something,, didn't get my usual "waste 2-3 hours to mentally prepare myself" so I jumped right into it once I made my coffee (bad idea)

Once again recorded my reaction so actual screaming will be under the cut!

SERIOUSLY HOW THE FUCK DO WE HAVE ONE FUCKING EPISODE LEFT?! HELLO?!?!

Anyways-

Incoherent screaming and spoilers under the cut!

Why the fuck are they going into this with like no backup and like,, they're just fucking jumping into it. Like I understand because Omega but like CMON guys. This happened before!!

Click here to hear my actual live reaction to the episode

Fuck, this armor is kinda growing on me

seriously what the fuck are they going to do with rampart?? he's literally dead weight

He makes for really good comedic relief though and he had me fucking dying this entire episode

WHO THE FUCK REPORTED THEM?!? DID I MISS SOMETHING?? LIKE I GET THAT THEY KNOCKED PEOPLE OUT AND SHIT BUT YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT PEOPLE RECOGNIZED THEM AND DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING UNTIL LATER OR WHAT?!!

Also the fact that they KNOW they're coming. fucking HELL the odds are stacked up against them

THE KIDS :(( Omega having to tell them what "cover me" means and them doing their absolute best to do so

ECHO MY BELOVED <33

Echo in the stormtrooper armor I'm

He has a hand now - "Thanks for the hand" - my comedic genius

IS THAT THE FUCKING ZILLO BEAST!??!?! FUCKING FINALLY!!! NOW WHEN THE FUCK IS IT GOING TO EAT HEMLOCK?!?!?

I miss Batcher :( Where is she? Is she safe? Is she alive?

Crosshair shoving Rampart around <3

"I've changed" - "Sure you have" WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT RAMPART SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH

Rampart acting like he knows Crosshair, fucking no you don't, just because you disrupted his meals like twice a day to call him to the principal's office doesn't mean SHIT

I love Echo so much, he's so cool

ECHO AND EMERIE TEAM UP

THE WAY THAT I SCREAMED BECAUSE AAAAAAAAA

OMEGA TALKED ABOUT THEM :( AND EMERIE LISTENED :( AND EMERIE REMEMBERED ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT WAS ECHO :( RAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I need to kick Rampart so badly, please, please let me kick him

"we can't use blasters i'll give away our position!" - AND MAKING ALL THAT NOISE WONT?!?!

WRECKER OH MY GOD GOT FUCKING SLASHED HE BETTER BE OKAY WHAT THE FUCK

HELLO?? Rampart getting his fucking ass found. What are they going to do with him now? What can he tell them that they don't already know??? I guess Echo but like-

To anyone who is starting to like Rampart STOP. Because watch him be the Saw Gerrera of this season

Cannot wait to see the kids break out and release the zillo beast <3

Emerie :( "I was doing my job" EMERIE MY LOVE THERE'S MORE THAN THAT

I'm so scared for her now SHE'S REALIZING THERE'S MORE TO LIFE AND I SWEAR TO GOD IF SHE FUCKING DIES-

WHERE THE FUCK IS C-2X OR WHATEVER THE FUCK???? I'M LOSING HOPE FOR A TECH REVEAL. FUCKING HELL I MISS HIM SO MUCH. THIS WHOLE FUCKING SEASON WITHOUT HIM??? RAUUGHHHHHHHH.

This episode was just fucking,,, stakes stakes stakes

Did not get a rest

holy shit

Emerie and Echo are fucking MOTHERS love them

ECHO HAS FUCKING EARS?!?!?!?!?!?!? OK NOW GIVE HIM HIS HAIR AND COLOR BACK!!!!!!

Craziest fucking thing to come out of this season - Echo having ears

LOOK

a lot happened

i'm so scared for next week

this whole episode was fucking action, action, action

WHY DID IT FEEL SO SHORT

SO MUCH HAPPENED BUT AT THE SAME TIME NOTHING HAPPENED????

Ugh

More thoughts are in the audio because I go on like a 13 minute rant but

FUCK <- my final thoughts

[jyndor]

nights are so starry, blood moon lit

@andorerso: I'd like to request a ficlet about Jyn discovering Cassian has a kyber crystal necklace too (because he does, fuck you Luthen) happy early birthday <33

lmfao well sissi it’s OUR birthday fic now but jk this is for you lol hope you like it and also ofc the pretentious swiftie title asjdskjaskjd happy birthday bitchh

She was sleeping where she sat down hours ago. The asset, Galen Erso’s daughter, the girl with the smothered need and the fire in her green eyes. Jyn Erso. I’ve never had the luxury of political opinions, and she had lied about that. Cassian had known that from her history with Saw Gerrera alone, but… her eyes, those twin truther-tellers, had given her away. He just wasn't sure anyone else had noticed.

On the ship, her eyelids twitched and her brow furrowed; she was dreaming.

The ship reverting to realspace over Jedha shook Erso out of her fitful sleep. The old pendant under his shirt turned to ice against his sternum. He stilled by the terminal and swallowed a gasp. Waited for the other shoe to drop.

Over the years Cassian had come to find some level of comfort, of focus, in its presence. Cold and ever present, like the man who had given it to him; if he were the sort of man to attribute moods to rocks and things, to believe in the Force, he’d have said the frigid sting against his heart was a warning.

Jyn pulled something clear and bright out from beneath her collar. Light from beyond NaJedha’s little moon catches in her hand - and refracts.

In her fingers (the dust of Wobani still underneath her fingernails, even after a long anxious wait for her to finish up in the blasted sonic) she held a crystal. Kyber, he was certain. What sort was irrelevant, and that she had one was not terribly surprising given her father’s work.

But it set him ill at ease, like the trembling suppressed need he'd seen in her green eyes back on Yavin IV. Dread (or anticipation, he’s not in the habit of deluding himself. Not anymore.)

He blinked as Erso carefully tucked the crystal back under her tunic, and dragged himself away from his hiding spot behind her. There was, as always, a job to do.

And no time for familiar stones or dead religions.

//

Cassian has that baby-soft freshness to his hair and skin that only comes with a dip in bacta. He’s in the midst of a dream, Jyn thinks as she sits beside his cot in the medbay. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes dart back and forth underneath his eyelids. He has long lashes that dust those sharp cheekbones of his. His hair falls into his face as he sighs and shifts to turn towards her, like how her father’s flowers would tilt towards the Lah’mu sun, unthinking, that DNA-deep need for light.

She wants to brush out the tension in his face with her fingertips, and so she does. Unthinking but conscious.

His brow relaxes. A hand reaches up to grip her wrist, gentle but firm. His eyes blink open, dark brown and very much awake.

“Jyn?” he rasps. She tries to pull her hand back, but he holds true.

She glances down at their hands, her heart racing in her ears. Surely Cassian can feel her pulse under his thumb. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like shit,” he says, voice gravelly from disuse.

“Here,” Jyn pulls her hand out of his grip and reaches for the glass of water she’d placed on his bedside table earlier. She brings the glass to his lips and watches him sip. It’s so intimate, a quiet moment for which she frankly isn’t sure they have the time. Not now.

She sets the glass down when he’s had enough and reaches for her kyber crystal.

His eyes track her fingers. The warmth of the pendant and the warmth of his gaze… she doesn’t know what to do with either.

“Tell me.” He tears his gaze away from her hands.

Jyn wants to cry. She wants to wrap him up and put him on a ship headed anywhere that isn’t Yavin IV. Instead, she sits back down on the side of his cot.

“Okay,” she says, voice cracking through the grief. “Princess Leia arrived a little while ago. With the plans.”

Those vibro-sharpened eyes study her. “Jyn.”

“It’s coming,” she tells him, hardening her spine. “The Death Star is coming.”

//

The strongest stars have hearts of kyber. That’s what that old Guardian, Chirrut, said to Jyn that morning. It was a pretty thought but it was also Cassian’s biggest concern - a weapon like this alleged planet killer, powered by massive amounts of kyber. Kyber from Jedha and Christophsis and Ke- well, so many places. Worlds he probably doesn’t even know about.

Some he was trying not to forget. Lost words, lost worlds, and always in the background: crystals.

Pointing the way, leading him to the ancient place Gerrera had holed him and his people in. It was crumbling around Cassian as he ran. Desperate and thinking only of the constant refrain Jyn Jyn Jyn I have to find Jyn, and his pendant was so cold against his skin it burned.

//

It turns out that metal stars with kyber hearts don’t stand a chance against a Jedi. Jyn stares at the darkening sky and the glittering pieces of her father’s other creation, her twin, as they break apart in the atmosphere. Leaning on her shoulder and the cane the medics had given him after he discharged himself is Cassian. He’s shaking a bit from the exertion or the view. Perhaps many things.

He’s changed out of his medbay gown and into some of his usual khakis. With his arm around her shoulders and her head beside his neck, she can see for the first time a gold chain mostly hidden underneath his tunic.

She leads him to where Ruescott Melshi and Taidu Sefla are standing near a parked x-wing. Melshi’s got a mug of something in his hand, and Sefla grins at them. “Nice of you to show up, Sarge!”

“Cass,” Melshi says, relief clear in his face. “Heard you took a tumble.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You’re a hero now, Andor,” Sefla laughs. “Best get used to the gossip."

Cassian looks a bit queasy at the thought and pulls Jyn closer to him. She feels Cassian’s breath against her temple. Melshi looks at them for a moment as he sips his drink and laughs. “Come here, you lucky son of a bitch,” he presses his lips against Cassian’s temple before reaching over him and ruffling Jyn’s hair. She scowls from underneath her fringe. “Pathfinders could use your balls, Erso.”

“Yours not big enough?” But she can’t help the smile that’s cracking through her exterior.

Beside her, Cassian looks up at the sky again, his thumb tracing the knot tying her necklace together. “Stardust,” he murmurs, and she feels her pendant hot against her skin; when he meets her eyes again his are burning too.

//

Over the years Cassian had gotten used to the kyber against his chest turning cold. It was a strange thing and as he learned more about kyber and the Jedi and Galen Erso, he had experienced a funny little hope that perhaps he would get the opportunity to ask the literal preeminent expert in kyberite why his crystal behaved less like a thing and more like the echo of a sentient. A silly delusion, he'd known, even before General Draven gave him the order to kill Erso.

For the first time in his memory his kyber burned white hot against his skin. If he were a superstitious man, one prone to fancies like belief in the Force and crystals, he might have called it an omen. Instead he exhaled the thought away and brushed his soaking hair out of his face. 

Eadu was cold and damp and cruel. His vision blurred in his viewfinder; rain dripped from his lashes.

Cassian was going to kill this man, a man who had unleashed a monstrosity onto the galaxy and abandoned his child to do it. What kind of a man willingly left a child behind? He didn't know the details nor needed to. Cassian doubted he’d live long enough to ask her if Galen had put up a fight before she slit his throat.

He would have done it if it were him. For Kerri, for Jeron and Tlalli. For Clem he'd tried and for Maarva he'd not gotten the chance, too busy saving the living to deal with the dead.

And for Jyn I already have, he thought despite himself. And I would do it again. He readjusted his finger on the trigger, cold righteous fury demanding justice and revenge.

Justice from Galen Erso, who was probably a prisoner of the Empire, who had very likely rigged the planet killer, the Death Star, to blow. Who Jyn believed in despite everything he'd never been for her.

He thought of her terrible, beautiful need - a bright point in the galaxy. He’d known martyrs and loved and hated them, he'd seen them burn bright and fast, read their manifestos and heard their theories. Eaten their food. Laid in their beds once or twice.

Killed more than a few of them, too.

In his sights was a singular moment of clarity: Galen Erso had his daughter’s eyes. That need, that fire, flashing and cracking and so familiar.

He wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger on her. He couldn’t be the one to snuff out her fire. He doesn't think he would survive, oxygen-deprived in the absence of her need.

But in the end, Galen Erso still died in his daughter’s arms. Cassian pulled her away from the body and dragged her away towards the next fight, a thrice-abandoned child. Another orphan.

He was beaten and bloodied in the wake of her grief. Her words cut like knives, sharp and wounding.

Bodhi piloted them in silence. He imagined Jyn was right where he left her, shaking and bitterly cold. Or alone under the Kenari canopy, small and afraid, quiet except for in his memory.

It was like looking into a mirror and seeing all those long-buried hurts, surfacing under such sudden attention.

She won't want to see me right now, Cassian thought. She may never want to see me again.

His kyber was cold. He wanted to reach into his shirt and hold it, press it into his palm and coax that heat back. 

But he didn’t know any of these people - and Kaytoo couldn’t keep a secret - so he just watched the starlines.

//

Cassian gets a promotion. Bodhi gets a ship and the Guardians a Jedi to train. And Jyn finds herself with a commission. They all turn down Leia’s medals, preferring what little anonymity they might have left to the perks of being heroes of the Rebellion. 

Medals and ceremonies are nice, but Jyn thinks that there is no better reward than hustling assholes out of credits with Bodhi, or going to the shooting range with Baze and Cassian, or sparring with Chirrut, or playing coding games with Kaytoo. She runs missions with Melshi and the Pathfinders from time to time, and she joins Cassian and Kay on intel ops that require less… subtlety. She’s got their backs, and she knows that they’ve got hers. 

But. Cassian’s gone sometimes for weeks on end, but then he comes back, and her kyber burns against her sternum, burns like her need to tell him what she’s more and more certain of with each passing day. 

She always wants to see him. She wants to stand by his side, cover his ass. She never wants him to have to work alone again. 

If he wants that. If he wants her to stick around.

There are other wants: sharing bunks and breathing in the same air, lying skin to skin or not, just being seen and held and wanted. 

But she’ll take what he’s willing to give her.

//

“I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad,” she says. He’s certain now, falling into her orbit, his kyber burning like a sun. The kyber crystals: they’re the point. They’ve always been the point, the biggest picture.

He’s been running to something this whole time. His whole life. Running towards, even though it has always felt like away. Searching for connection, for something he has thought he’s lost. And all this time, kyber. A navigator to lead him to this moment, pointing him towards this cause, this particular moment. These exact coordinates under his worn and calloused feet.

Pointing him in the direction he’s been heading his whole life, guiding him home. Crystals in the sky, green and gold. Heat breaching shields, pressure all around.

Her eyes are warm, too.

“Welcome home.”

//

He’s bleeding from a blaster wound to the shoulder. Jyn bites her lip as she shepherds him into their ship’s little kitchenette, heart racing, palms sticking to the worn leather of her gloves, and she pulls his tunic off without ceremony, professional and single-minded despite his protests that he’s fine, and that he can handle dressing his wound, and that she should go check in with Draven.

She wants to punch him. She also wants to kiss him, and isn’t that just like him - to be so completely charming after jumping in front of her and taking the shot she hadn’t seen -

Kyber. Blue like the sky and hot against her fingertips. Against his chest. She presses her palm against the pendant, drawn in like some sort of merryfly to a light. Cassian wipes his thumb against her eye, brushes against her damp lashes. And she remembers herself. 

Jyn opens a medpac and cleans the wound. It’s relatively minor, more of a graze. She focuses on fitting the bacta patch over it neatly; smoothes over it with her fingers so that there are no bubbles or crumpled edges.

“It’s a Kuati signet. Kyber.” He catches her hand and places it over his heart, right onto the burning shard of kyber. She curls her fingers around it, scratching lightly against his chest hair. He shivers. “But you know that,” he adds, his voice low and near. She looks up to see him leaning close to her, as he is wont to do. They orbit, they pull each other closer all the time. Like some inevitable collision, held in stasis.

His dark eyes are bright in the dingy fluorescent lighting.

“My mum was a geologist.” She snakes her hands up his chest and around his neck. “And you know about Papa.”

“I’ve wanted to show you,” he says imploringly, hand back on her cheek, calloused thumb rubbing so gently against her skin. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, Jyn.”

She gasps into his air as her kyber cools against her skin. She gazes through her lashes at his lips and pushes up on her toes to close the distance between them. “Tell me, then,” Jyn murmurs against his lips. “Show me.”

[noddytheornithopod]

Started playing Jedi: Survivor! Gonna post miscellaneous thoughts I’m having as I play through it. For reference, I’m also playing on Story Mode (I just want to be safe cuz I have no idea what will be thrown at me lol).

And of course, if it wasn’t obvious, spoilers under the cut.

So we begin with Cal being “captured” and taken to this Pau’an senator (the same one as in the first teaser). He seems to be like a big shot... or at least is hoping to become one, since he’s hoping to gain the Emperor’s favour by saying he caught a Jedi. It’s really just a ruse (the cops holding Cal are actually fellow rebels working for Saw Gerrera), and well soon stuff gets crazy.

Probably the most notable issue so far is framerate? Like, for reference, I’m playing on PS5 and am using Performance Mode (it would be pointless to do anything else since my TV only has a max 1080p resolution). It’s not exactly bad, like it definitely isn’t the nightmare that PC players seem to be experiencing, but I find that especially between the transitions between gameplay and cutscenes it can get kinda choppy. I get why the cutscenes have a lower framerate, it’s so they look more cinematic, and honestly I’m more than fine with that, but the transitions and even a few gameplay moments feel slow.

Also maybe it’s just because I already know how Fallen Order played and I’m also on Story difficulty, but I think the opening level dragged out a bit too long? It makes sense it’s an easy and simple level, but eh, who finds tutorial sections fun anyway, lol.

On the other hand, being in the Coruscant underworld was a pretty cool opening setting. There’s a lot of narrative parallels to Fallen Order already, and there’s parts of Coruscant that actually remind me of Bracca in some ways. Many parts looked a bit dark, but IDK if that’s just my TV or what, but that aside it all looked cool.

Nerd moment: the first enemies you fight being the patrol troopers from Solo was fun. What’s more fun than killing stormtroopers? Killing COP stormtroopers.

Bode seems cool, I guess. I do feel like them emphasising the monetary involvement he’s working with Saw for is gonna come into play later on though, like if someone offers him more to pay for him and his kid he could pull something on Cal. Also they introduced the buddy AI system, which lets you tell your friend to do certain things, and command them to help you in fights. IDK how effective it will be (especially on Story mode where so far I’m cutting through Stormtroopers like nothing lol), but it’s still cool to have your pal show up and fuck with some enemies.

Cal’s already got some fun quips, but I’m also interested to see he already seems darker. Like, when they eventually capture the senator, he basically makes a death threat, but what really stood out to me was when you learn the confusion power. Like, he literally says something like “I don’t think Cere told me to use it like that”. And like... that line only made me think of Ezra at the start of Season 3 of Rebels even more than already recalling Ezra puppet that walker off that base. Two Jedi who feel like they need to do more to stop the Empire and Dark Side, but are flirting with darker tactics to get there.

So Ninth Sister returns. The way she talks almost makes it sound like she’s some recurring enemy Cal keeps running into. KESTIIIIIISSSSSSSSS!!!!! But yeah she’s the first boss (which feels a lot like the first Trilla fight on Bracca, speaking of which another parallel has Cal pull a Trilla on one of the gunships surrounding them). Cal... fucking decapitates her. It’s an interesting moment to me, another sign he’s darker of course, but I’m getting a lot of different feelings here. Like on one hand, he doesn’t seem to relish it at all, even trying to reach out to her, even calling her Masana Tide, her original name before she turned dark. But on the other... he’s like “I’ll set you free” and decides who must live or die. Like sure, Masana wouldn’t listen to him, she’s just full of rage and pain, but still, playing executioner like that was still a dark moment to me.

I should also mention the lightsabre stances, because the boss is where you first lean dual blade. So far... I’ve barely used single blade, lol. I’m fine using double and dual blade for now, honestly. IDK how it is on harder difficulties, but I think they compliment each other nicely. Double blade for crowd control and more defensive fights, and dual blade when I feel like being more offensive. Also, nerd brain just thinks it’s neat to have a sabrestaff you split and put back together.

Controls are mostly similar, there’s some slight changes here and there, I’ll get used to them with time probably. Force powers still work as expected. I’m a monster that loves using confusion to make enemies fight each other, lol. It IS cool that it can’t work on all enemies though, like purge troopers are immune since they’d obviously be trained to resist mind tricks, some creatures you can’t seem to affect I guess because they’re just too weird or whatever, and you can’t use it on droids because they’re not organic. Making Bedlam Raiders kill their own droid underlings they’re in charge of is funny.

Oh yeah, Koboh. Only gotten up to Greez’s cantina and I just stopped right after I found the part we need for the Mantis, but it already feels massive. Interesting scenery too, like it reminds me of a savannah in like Australia or even Africa. Also, I’m guessing the bogling population came from the Mantis stowaways in Fallen Order, lol.

The minimap is much more helpful actually. Still a bit complex, but there’s a lot more notified to tell you where you can go and even traces where you’ve come from, and it helps give clearer directions on where to progress too. It’s not so easy like say Lego Skywalker Saga where the default just lets you follow markers that tell you exactly where to go, you still need to look around sometimes to find how to progress or solve a puzzle, but for someone like me who can get stuck for pretty stupid reasons, it is handy to have these extra hints.

So the scene with Cal and BD looking at old footage they had of the crew together was definitely sentimental. It seems to be around or soon after Fallen Order since the characters still have their looks from that game, but it’s nice to see the times they spent together, and you can tell how much Cal misses them all even if they all parted ways.

On the other hand... we got TWO Greez salt jokes within the span of a few minutes. They KNOW and they really want to remind us, lol. First, one of the videos displayed has Greez say to Merrin say something like “too much salt is bad for you”, which well, yeah, the irony is obvious. There’s also what used to be the Mantis’ terrarium now holding some old belongings, and one of them was Greez and salt related, I think it was his salt shaker? But yes, salty Greez fans, you will not be disappointed.

The locals at Koboh seem interesting enough so far. Little frog due and big Klaud dude! Rayvis had an... interesting first impression. Like at first he’s all shouty and dramatic to the point where I found it a bit much, but after Cal kills his enforcer, he actually starts acting more honourable and subdued? Hard to read guy, I guess. Sounds like he’s building to something, though I have no idea why harassing people on some Outer Rim world is necessary for that. Like, the people in the bar talk like they just show up and cause trouble because they can. Cal stepping in to defend the frog dude was cool though, nice reminder that at heart he’s still a Jedi even if I have... questions about some of his new tactics, lol.

Greez reunion! Was a pretty sweet moment, honestly. And there’s also a sassy droid at the bar who co-runs the place (I think their name was Monk?). Greez is rightfully concerned about Cal though, like Cal misses the crew but it sounds like his own obsession with fighting the Empire was a key factor in what caused the rifts to form in the first place. Something definitely seemed to happen with Cere especially, like when Cal talks about Merrin Greez is like “actually I was asking if you’ve spoken to Cere”. Cal does lose it for a moment, too. He feels like because he might be one of the only Jedi left, he has to shoulder that responsibility to fight the Empire. It’s kind of like the opposite to Obi-Wan’s situation - right around this time, Obi-Wan has given up hope and thinks it’s pointless to do anything, while Cal is so into the fight it seems like it’s consuming him. Like, Greez made this room for Cal to chill in even for a bit, but Cal’s all GOTTA GET ON THE MOVE. Also, for more parallels, a callback to the sleep talking scene, lol.

Anyway, stuck underground and Cal noticed something weird, I’ll get to it later and we’ll see what else happens!

[sanshinexx]

Here’s my real-time review of the TBB S2 finale episodes

17.56 

I am absolutely fucking terrified. I don’t want to do this. I’m so scared. Fuck me, I already know this is going to hurt like a bitch. Okay here we gooo.

18.01

Okay Tech and Phee are kinda cute I have to admit. But now I’m just even more scared something will happen to Tech. Good things never last and all that.

18.22

What the fuck you can’t end the episode there. How is everything supposed to resolve in the NEXT EPISODE ALONE?? HELLO???? 

Also Saw Gerrera you fuck. I know your cause is good, but, man… timing much?

PLAN NINETY FUCKING NINE I’M NOT READY

18.26

This whole power line fight is giving me so much anxiety holy fuck

18.28

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

18.30

AKFJAKÖLSJFKLJA WHAT THE FUUUCKKKKKK NO NO NO NO NO

I AM. GOING TO CRY: VIOLENTLY

PLAN NINETY FUCKNG NINE WHAT DID I JUST SAY GOOD THINGS DONT FUCKING LAST

18.32

MAN I CAn’T FUKCING DO THIS 

18.34

”Where’s Tech?” MAANNN STOP IT NOW I’M ACTUALLY CRYING

18.35

Hunter. What the fuck do you mean you’re just going to give up. WHAT ABOUT CROSSHAIR. REMEMBER HIM?? THE ONE BROTHER YOU STILL CAN SAVE?

18.37

Wrecker :((((((((

18.38

wait. WAIT. SID YOU FUCKER, TELL ME YOU DID NOT. I AM GOING TO. MURDER YOU.

18.40

Fuck you Hemlock. Fucker.

18.46 

Echo here to save the day as always. Slay king.

18.47

HUNTER’S FACE WHEN HE SAW THE SHUTTLE LEAVING I CAN’T DO THIS MAN

18.49

:((((((((((((( MAN

18.50

Hemlock you FUCK.

18.51

CROSSHAIR

18.53

SHE’S A CLONE??? HUH? S I S T E R S????

HOLD THE FUCK UP YOU CAN’T END THE SEASON LIKE THIS. NO. NOOOOOO I REFUSE. I CAN*TSKFJAJS FUKCING DO THIS AAAAAAA

(not tumblr giving me the "Everything okay?" when i was searching for gifs about crying skjkfjs-- nO IT'S FUCKING NOT THANKS FOR ASKING THOUGH)

That's all fellas how are we feeling today. Actually don't answer that I already know the answer.

[thatonespriteobsessedbitch]

ok bad batch finale time! here's my thoughts!

The Summit

ok I'm so scared rn, the opening credits haven't even finished and I'm terrified for my babies

please please go save him

yes tech!!! family comes first

ok I didn't like Phee at first but her interacting with Megs 🥹

oop tech and Phee moment

lmao tech can't do emotions (yk what, same tho)

(cue tiktok sound "walk him like a dog sis, walk him like a dog")

poor tech he's so fucking confused 😂

that fucker is back 😒

I hate this doctor so much

his voice annoys me

also fuck tarkin, what an ass

low-key so mad at hunter but it is what it is

bad enough that he left cross on the platform but trying to argue that they shouldn't go rescue cross makes me so mad

(believe it or not, at one point I was a hunter girlie and not a cross girlie)

which planet is raxus again??? tbh they're all blending together at this point

lol omega is joining wreckers scared of height club

gd tech is doing something to me today

don't get caught guys, please don't get caught

I did not have hunter willingly killing multiple troopers on my tbb bingo card

*brief intermission in my tbb commentary to inform you that my cats are wrestling and the older one (spock) refuses to just deck Hex when he's annoying him*

again, this dr pisses me off

"test subjects" well that is definitely not ethical

again, fuck tarkin

wtf is project star dust

techs little leggings 🤣 I love them so much

mouse droids!!!!!

stay focused on the mission guys ffs

run omega run

ok prediction: they're not the only ones breaking into the summit

called it lol

tbh saw gerrera really pisses me off, idk why tho

and covers blown lmao

stormtroopers wearing Corrie red hurts my soul so much

let me guess, saw gerreras team is going to grab the one shuttle they aren't supposed to grab

nope they just blew up the ship instead

I don't think they're gonna save crosshair

are we gonna get a season 3????

Plan 99

please I want them to save my boy

please Filoni I'm begging you

I already know something is gonna happen to tech (I opened up tumblr to block all the spoilers tags and unfortunately there was a whole bunch of spoilers on my dash 🙁)

tarkin just really doesn't care about his own troops huh

run tech run

fuckkkkkkkk

tech is gonna die

wrecker is too heavy, he'll make it worse hunter

omg I'm literally sobbing

tbh this was not how I wanted to start my day 😭

tech's dead honey, he won't hear you mega

wreckers little neck brace 😂

don't fucking tell me, that after tech sacrificed himself, that you aren't going to go try and save crosshair

you've already lost one brother, you don't need to lose another

omg they're gonna have to tell Phee 😭

cid sold them out

wait maybe they'll get taken to the same place as cross!!!

ah for fuck sake

it's doctor asshole again

yk they were kinda stupid to go back to ord mantell

cid told them this was gonna happen if they showed face again

and omega is playing right into their hands

doctor asshole brought up tech and wreckers reaction was my reaction

Hemlock is such a fucking dick, like giving hunter his brother's cracked goggles and saying that's all he could salvage?!?!!

I hate him more than krell

"she's long gone" except she's literally venting lmao

god I hate him

at least he found echo

"why did they bring me here?" because they needed Nala Se to cooperate

wait are we gonna find out how the emperor did the thing he did in the sequel trilogy???

don't tell me she's gonna see cross barely alive

for fuck sake the empire is traumatizing this child so fucking much

omg the assistant or something is her template I'm calling it right now

ok I mean I was close, they're sisters so I'm not far off

omega don't look so surprised, it's kinda obvious

so anyways I think that's practically confirmation of a season 3

[thorne1435]

Okay, okay, hang on. Your complaints are valid, but I do have a few rebuttals.

First, this is the more important part of the response. Leaving Mace Windu aside, just since you mentioned them, I did like Reva, and Saw Gerrera! Quite a bit, actually! And I do understand that this fandom has a reputation for dogpiling any black person or character who is involved in any way shape or form and I didn't mean to invoke that same image. I am genuinely sorry for coming across that way, I just wasn't really thinking about it at the time. So...my bad. I was just...saying shit, I guess.

Anyway, further Mace Windu discussion under the cut, because I am a mouthy, long-winded bitch:

First of all, I didn't say he "doesn't act". Mace Windu is very efficient, actually. I can't say that he's "by-the-book" without also acknowledging that he does things. What I actually said was he "only acts on" a general fandom-interpretation of his character (Mace Windu As The Grey Jedi), like, one time. However. You do mention Geonosis, and I had forgotten about Jango Fett being decapitated by Mace Windu, somehow, so. Mea culpa, that's fair, and that makes 2.

It's not supposed to be about Mace Windu being black, either way. It was about the fanon surrounding Windu as a character and how, depending on who's writing him in a given moment, he probably would be very dryly misogynistic, likely to play into either his "bad-boy" fanon reputation or his no-nonsense demeanor. Again, it depends on who's in control of the story.

The fucked up thing here is, you're right, actually! Grey Jedi certainly don't exist in the post-Disney canon (bendu, ahsoka, and quinlinn voss do, actually, but we're going to ignore that to make both our lives easier), and in things that are currently canon to Star Wars, Windu is consistently portrayed as being, again, by the book, level-headed, somewhat humorless, and, yes, morally upstanding (except for the two aforementioned moments). Given that most Star Wars properties at this point in time are carefully designed to perform as much fan servicing as possible, it strikes me as a distinct possibility that Windu's moral ambiguity, regardless of its current status, might be played up in future properties.

And that's more or less what I was trying to say: not that Mace Windu himself is a bad character or you shouldn't like him (he's certainly a better person than fucking Anakin, Baby-Killer, Genocide-Doer) but moreso that the idea that Mace Windu wouldn't be misogynistic seems to have higher hopes for the character than I would personally suggest, knowing his reputation, whether warranted or not.

I do not trust his Most-Lawful-Jedi Persona to withstand the test of time, is my only real point here. In fact, some would be willing to argue that the fact that he extrajudicially killed (at least almost) 2 people would be reason enough to believe that maybe he's got a bit of a temper, even, and that he isn't the Most-Lawful-Jedi, because he's fairly chill with murder.

I mainly think Mace's chillness with murder is just sloppy writing, tbh, but if I were in charge of salvaging that sloppy writing with any sort of add-on movie or series I would probably just make it a personality trait that Mace doesn't trust the Council's court system. Maybe he thinks it's too slow? Something like that. It certainly seems to be the case, based on the movies alone.

"Not all men-" you're absolutely right! Mace Windu would never

[hacked-wtsdz]

I’ve just rewatched Rogue One and let me just talk about how frickin’ good it is. Like, really.

The simultaneously desperate and hopeful spirit of the movie is something no other SW movie has. Sure the OT is also about how the Rebel Alliance fights the Empire, but it doesn’t have this emotional atmosphere of people fighting an enormous evil machine with nothing left to lose, with nothing but rage and hope and fire in their eyes. They fight not just with, they mostly fight for hope. This is the first fight. This is merely the beginning. And they have already lost, sacrificed so much that they just can’t let themselves not finish the mission.

The impeccable dialogues. Every one of them. Jyn’s speech before they start their attack, Jyn’s last words to Krennic, Galen Erso’s message to Jyn, Saw Gerrera’s last words, Cassian speaking to Jyn after her father dies, Vader being so fucking dramatic it makes me laugh even though he’s choking a man. K-2SO’s replicas, Chirrut’s communication with Baze. ALL OF IT IS SUPERIOR.

I also love the purity of the character’s emotions. You can literally feel it through the screen. The actor’s job was awesome, plus the music and their lines, and it’s just *chef’s kiss*. The horror when Vader appears in that hall. The tears in Jyn’s eyes while she watches her father’s message. Her conversation with the Alliance’s Council. Baze seeing all his friends die. Jyn talking to Krennic. Jyn and Cassian on that beach...I don’t even need to say anything, do I?

The music is actually pretty good too. The characters are really creative and unusual, plus most of the main crew are POC which is also great and adds diversity to the SW Universe. Just the way it’s filmed, there are so many breathtakingly beautiful scenes!

Bonus for adding some scenes with Chopper and the Ghost!

You don’t get it, all of Rogue One’s beauty and amazingness, after the first time you see it. But when you rewatch it a couple times, it becomes clear to you that it’s one of the best Star Wars movies ever made.

[too-lit-for-fanfic]

A Traitor In Our Midst

PART III OF III

PART I

PART II

PART III

And it’s done! What a wait! And for that we are very sorry. For a long time we just couldn’t finish this closing chapter in a way that felt right or akin to the characters and their little story so it has undergone several re-writes. This final part isn’t as long as those previous, or as technical, but we hope you enjoy! There’s fluff, so hopefully that makes up for it! Thank you everyone who has supported this little series! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Summary: Cal Kestis x ex-Galactic Empire!OC, but can be treated like an x reader, ugly secrets from her past are resurfaced. In light of the truth Cal and crew no longer feel as if they can trust the newest member to the trio. Tempers flare, sacrifices are made, and the truth finally comes out.

Warnings: Torture is featured/referenced in this chapter so be warned. Angst, Blood, Violence, Swearing, Torture, Interrogation tactics, Emotional Manipulation, PTSD, Trauma

“...just to protect those who would never do the same for you?”

It had been two weeks since Aylin and BD had been trapped on the Star Destroyer, Cal and crew in the middle of negotiating with Saw Gerrera to organise a rescue mission, the stubborn man finally agreeing once it had been revealed BD had failed to return, the ship the duo had commandeered having been seized by the Empire. Cal, Cere and Greez huddled around the small monitor in the centre of the hull, deathly quiet as they listened to the conversation taking place between Second Sister and their former crewmate. On their rounds of the ship, BD had managed to return just in time to spot Trilla entering the prison cell, and now they waited anxiously, hidden under a series of shelves in the outward corridor. All three members of the crew looked positively sick, Cal in particular turning a ghastly pale as he held his breath, dreading the events to unfold.

“Oh isn't that just sweet.” Trilla’s shrill voice mocked lowly, eerily echoing down the corridor. “You really did care about them didn't you? Isn’t it a pity how they’ve left you here to die?”

“Fuck you.” Cal had to strain to hear Aylin’s response. She sounded weak, worryingly so, the venom in her words sounding as if it pained her to push it past her lips.

“You’re not denying it.” 

The silence that followed was deafening.

“That pretty red-head might have come to save you once, even I can tell you were very important to him-”

Cal involuntarily lurched at his mention, his muscles twitching so as to distance himself from the screen, an icy grip encasing his heart.

“Not anymore.” 

Cal physically felt his heart whither in his chest, his knuckles turning white.

“Not anymore.” The sick woman almost sounded joyful. “All because you were born on the wrong side of the war. How ironic, an unforgiving Jedi.”

‘oh force...’ Cal withdrew, his heart plummeting to his stomach as the words echoed around his skull. Greez’s clawed hand landed on his elbow in comfort but the redhead payed him no mind. ‘please say something’ he silently begged, desperate to know that Aylin didn’t really think the same of him.

She never responded.

“I can’t watch this.” The red-head made an effort to move away from the screen, fully intent on hiding in the shadows of the cockpit. The entire conversation felt like a knife to his heart, and it only became worse when he realised anything could have been happening behind those closed doors, and he was powerless.

“And Cere, she wouldn’t even come to save me.” - A muffled ugly gasp - “Why are you protecting those who would sell you to the order for far less?”

Silence followed, and the trio held their breaths. A strangled cry abruptly cut-off, Cal very nearly almost throwing up as a strangled chocking gasp broke the silence, the sounds of boots scraping and struggling against a metallic surface drowning out the conversation.

A sickening thud.

Murmurs.

Screams.

Another bang.

“No- PLEASE!” Shrill blood-curdling screams assaulted their senses, Cal flinching away from the screen. The trio waited a moment, Cal’s hands covering his mouth, agape with horror - the begging screams didn’t stop.

“We have to do something!” Cal burst, a red hue overtaking his sickly complexion, flinching again at a particularly desperate yell.

“What do you suppose?” Cere bit back harshly, the stress and helplessness of the situation fraying all of their nerves.

“Something! - Anything!” Cal racked his brain for a solution, the echoing screams resonating from the monitor throwing his thoughts into a frenzy. “We need to get Trilla out of the room. We need to get her away from her!”

“And how are we-”

“BD!” Cal lurches towards the screen, shaking hands frantically typing a message to the small BD-unit. “If we can just get her into the main hull of the ship, it would be perfectly reasonable for the trooper who requested her presence to have moved to a different location in the ship.”

“Cal, think about this-”

His hand hovers over the ‘enter’ button on the holopad. His wide bloodshot eyes searing a hole directly into Cere’s skull.

“What is there to think about?” As if on queue, another scream wafted through the monitor. That solidified his resolve, hitting the key before Cere or Greez could even blink, BD immediately setting into motion. 

The cell doors opened with a resounding hiss as BD finished inputting the code, the little droid rolling to the side to enter the cell. The sight that greeted the crew was worse than they could have possibly imagined. The young woman strapped to the table in the centre of the room resembled a corpse more so than the confident and head-strong blonde that had departed from their ship only two weeks prior. Her imperial jacket barely hung to her beaten and bloodied frame, the torn and tattered fabric had been roughly tugged from her torso, wound into a crumpled heap around her waist and elbows, bony shoulders jutting up through the ruins of a once white tank top, now stained crimson. With every breath her ribcage shuddered, ribs pressing against her beaten and sullied skin, protruding almost painfully with every twist and struggle, skin taught. Any part of her not covered in crimson was mottled in varying shades of black and purple, the angry discolouration winding around her ribs and disappearing behind the remnants of her undershirt.

Cal felt positively sick. Anger bloomed in his chest as despair gnawed at his stomach, bloodshot eyes transfixed on the image before him, the sound of blood rushing through his ears, and Aylin’s screams echoing through his mind drowning out the conversation taking place. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the table ledge with all the might his exhausted muscles would allow, his breath clogging his throat and chest as he forgets himself, his one and only concern the one person in the entire galaxy who he couldn't reach.

Trilla hovers over her diminished frame, elbow harshly dug into the blonde’s exposed ribs, gloved hand wrapped languidly around a blade buried to its hilt, fresh crimson pooling along Aylin’s collarbone, spilling onto the table and then onto the cement floor, glistening sickeningly in the overhead lighting. Noteful of BD’s presence, his frantic panicked beeps finally reaching her ears amongst the screams, Trilla leans back, still leant heavily on Aylin as her cold amber gaze lands on the small BB unit, anger and frustration etched across her face. A sickening thud echoes around the metallic room as the blonde’s head falls back pathetically, unaware of the cause of the interruption. She looked barely conscious, beginning to dance across the line of life to death, who’s arms were already open and willing to hold her in their cold embrace.

With all the languidity of a senator, Trilla leisurely pulls the blade from Aylin’s exposed shoulder, leisurely wiping the blood covered blade on her tattered jacket, a cruel smile adorning her features all the while. Aylin barely moves, eyes half lidded and body slack, the only indication of life the erratic yet shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Her head tilts to expose more of her hollowed features, Cal’s horrified gaze locking onto her own, the breath he had been holding escaping his lungs and his shoulders falling with the guilt that clawed its way up from his stomach, a tangible trepidation reverberating throughout the force. What little fat she had possessed had surely withered away, her cheekbones appearing almost sharp underneath her taught and sunken complexion, ivory skin now pale and shining a ghastly yellow under the blaring overhead lights, a stark contrast to the maroon-dried blood coating her temple and jaw. Her bloodshot and sunken eyes blearily gaze towards the ceiling, no sign of the life that had once illuminated their honeyed depths, the life that had spilled from her being in abundance no longer to be found.

Cal’s focus finally turns back to the conversation at hand, breaths shallow, BD beckoned from the room with an indignant “Droid.”, the tall figure of the second sister glowering at them from the entrance of the cell, evidently annoyed at the intrusion. With one final glance BD reluctantly turns to leave the room, following the second sister dutifully in their search for the non-existent trooper in the main hanger.

Cal collapses onto a sofa across the room from the monitor, the horrific image of Aylin strapped to a metal table, looking closer to death than life, and drenched in her own blood, permanently burnt into his retinas. A sight to haunt him for a lifetime.

“Fuck Saw, we’re getting them both, tomorrow.”

----------

With little convincing Greez had quickly succumbed to Cal’s persuasion, the two men - after much deliberation and heated debate - had also successfully convinced Cere of their plan. Truthfully, Cal had been conjuring ways to coordination a rescue ever since Aylin and BD had been captured on the Star Dreadnaught, and as he prepared for the events of the day, no doubt entered his mind that their two companions would be with the crew by the end of the day. Companion - Cal almost scoffed to himself - the two were far more than that: BD, in many ways, had become a best friend to Cal in the past few years, the companionable little droid with a taste for adventure never failing to offer a sense of comfort and joy, even in some of Cal’s darkest times, in many ways resembling a younger sibling Cal had never before had the pleasure of having. Aylin, on the other hand, in the time the pair had known one another, had somehow wormed her way into the isolated Jedi’s heart, always offering her support in his times of need, encouraging him with his training through her self-proclaimed ‘tough-love’, becoming a source of confident resolve and rationality - a sense of stability in the ever changing galaxy. 

Cal remembered their many nights spent on some unknown planet, the pair sat beneath the many stars and moons of the galaxy, sharing tales long into the night. Cal had never had a relationship with anyone like the relationship he had formed with the stubborn blonde: heatedly sparring before patching one another’s wounds from the scuffle; longing glances spared with every tranquil moment, hidden behind excuses of exhaustion or a poorly constructed insult; grins and soft smiles shared over meal time or upon their own hidden adventures exploring new planets; a hand reaching out for the others in a busied market or times of comfort; an eye searching for the other in a crowded room; simply basking in one another's presence in the quiet hours of the morning, relishing every moment where they could just be. Cal knew he was a fool, a disgrace to the Jedi code he had spent his entire youth obeying like a holy script, he knew he was a fool the first time the enigmatic blonde had saved his life in her third month of joining the crew, standing over his tired and weary frame with a cocky smirk and a calloused hand outstretched, making some smart-arsed comment as she hauled him to his feet.

Attachments were forbidden, Jedi were trained from birth to let go of everything they were afraid to lose. And Cal? He was terrified to lose her - he had already broken his sacred vows, he had become attached, and he would be damned before he sacrificed one of the only things he was afraid to lose. He would never be a Jedi, yet perhaps that was okay, perhaps there was something more to this world that he had only realised upon stumbling across the Mantis and her crew. 

He had never been that dutiful of a Padawan anyway. 

The point seemed ever more poignant as his cerulean eyes stared conflictingly at the reflection in his mirror. No longer did he adorn the trusty combat trousers, baggy shirt, chest brace, not even his trusting poncho that seemed to make up his daily attire. Instead, a version of himself he had spent endless nights battling against stared back at him, the ironed and pressed midnight coloured uniform clinging to his lean frame. After a pit stop or two he had successfully acquired a knock-off Imperial General’s uniform, a notable fake with the lack of an aura emitting from the otherwise haunting apparel. Tugging harshly at the collar that bit into the skin of his neck, a habit he had seen Aylin recount numerous times in her preparation for the mission, his tired eyes trail over his figure, hoping to all of the stars and force wielders in the galaxy that his Master couldn’t see him now. 

He clears his throat to relieve some of the tightness that had gathered in his chest before he leaves his sleeping quarters, rolling his stiff shoulders as he makes his way into the main hull, lightsaber already hidden beneath his newly acquired jacket.

“So,” The red-head steps before Greez and Cere - already equipped in her own better-fitting storm trooper armour - who had been typing away to BD on the small holopad in the main hull. “How do I look?”

The pair glance up at the young man, Greez’s beady little eyes widening considerably, a good natured grin enveloping his face. 

“Kid-” Humour laced his tone, his dark eyes taking in the sight before him. “Let’s just hope you won’t be on that ship for too long.” In comparison to how Aylin’s uniform had fit her frame, Cal’s uniform may have well as swamped him, the thick fabric creasing at his waist, his belt fastened at the smallest capacity and yet somehow still too big, sitting notably lower on his waist than it should have, polished and barely scuffed boots a size too large, the one thing that actually fit being the pair of leather gloves over his shaking hands.

Everything just seemed slightly wrong, just a little bit askew, just a little bit... fake.

By all respects, Cal had certainly gone to the effort of impersonating an Imperial soldier, skin scrubbed clean of the dirt and grime of the galaxy, hair slicked back under a hat slightly too large for his head, he had even cracked into Aylin’s limited makeup supply and attempted to conceal the many scars he had gained through his years, as well as the stress-induced darkening bags under his eyes. The Empire wasn't him, and it was painfully obvious to all who spared him a second glance. 

“Say all you want, old man.” Cal jibes light heatedly, beginning to head towards the cockpit. “Have you forgotten your own disguise?” The redhead sends a pointed look in the direction of the shell of a modified astromech droid, the humour in Greez’s eyes quickly dying as his gaze lands on his ingenious costume.

“If I have to come and rescue you all in that thing.” Greez stares uneasily at his heavy, small costume. “You owe me a spa day.”

----------

After commandeering a small transport shuttle from a neighbouring planet with a rather small Imperial presence, Cal and Cere bid farewell to Greez, who was to remain with the Mantis and communicate with them through BD and the data pad.

“Be careful.” Cere warns, arms wrapped around herself as she watches Greez fiddle with some mechanisms on the inside of the ship with dull eyes. “We won’t be able to come and rescue you if you get caught.”

He waves her concern off with dismissal.

Cal appears next to her, materialising from the bowls of the Mantis, smoothing his jacket out once again. The older woman turns to the young man, barely out of adolescence, and feels the corners of her mouth tug down. This could go wrong, this could go horribly, horrendously, atrociously wrong, and with Cal’s loosening grip on his emotions, his anxiety rolling from him in waves through the force, chances of failure were ever high. Cal was only young, having grown up during some of the darkest known times of the galaxy, his future destroyed by a war begun before his birth, and now he was to be thrust into the heart of the conflict, into the home of those responsible for all of his suffering. Cal was a victim, just like all those who had lived during the raising of the Empire, his body and mind more marred and scarred than most, but he was a survivor, scorning and mocking the Empire with every day lived. Cere hoped he continued to be a survivor, one of the few specks of light in an ever darkening galaxy, yet this rescue mission threatened to snuff his light out for good.

Her mind wondered at the cause of the young man’s anxiety as she watched his hands tremble as he straightened his leather belt, surveying the pasty sheen of his skin and the poorly-concealed bags under his flitting eyes. As harsh as she had been on Aylin when her past had been revealed, it was undeniable that the two women had held a close bond, and secretly, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself, Cere had missed the girl terribly, her own guilty conscious gnawing away at the edges of her conscious whenever she tried to rest. Last night had been particularly bad after the events that she had witnessed unfold on the small data pad yesterday afternoon, the image of her companion, beaten and bloody, a mere fragment of how she remembered the blonde girl on her departure. The image haunted her whenever her eyes had finally agreed to close - as obviously was the case with the redhead stood next to her, exhaustion palpable on his features underneath the mounting anxiety and adrenaline - the added guilt, knowing similar treatment would have faced Trilla due to her own selfishness, depriving her mind of rest, gnawing at her innards and haunting every fibre of her being. 

She hoped desperately for her crew to return, all of them safe, once again, in their home, the Mantis.

“Cal,” She turns to the tall red-head, hands gripping her arms more firmly, “I know what your goal is, I know how badly you want to bring her home.” The red-head watches her with steady eyes, shoulders raising in defence. “I want them home too, but- but please remember yourself. I can’t loose all of you.”

The sounds of the local wildlife and fauna fill the steady silence as Cal mulled over her words, hand running over the saber tucked into his side.

“Don’t worry Cere,” Cal begins heading down the ramp, taking long purposeful strides towards the Imperial ship, Cere’s more tentative steps following in his wake. “I’m going to make it back, and I’m bringing everyone with me.”

Cal didn’t know where the certainty had come from, his voice didn’t waver and his steps didn’t falter. He would do this. He would bring his two best friends back home, and one day he would make the Empire pay.

----------

“We’re here.” Cere slips out of the pilot seat, allowing for Cal to take her place, grasping her blaster in a vice-like grip as she sits stiffly towards the back of the shuttle. She watches as Cal heads to the front of the ship, manning the controls for their landing, frown deepening behind her helmet as the star destroyer encroaches, fear clawing at her throat with every memory resurfaced from the devastation following Order 66.

“We head out the Western exit of the docking bay when we land.” Cal rattles off, flipping some switches as their small vessel is pulled towards the star destroyer. “BD should meet us somewhere in one of the closest corridors and we follow them to the cell, remember to stay behind me, if you don’t they’ll know something’s wrong straight away.”

Cere watches as Cal’s grip tightens around the steering controls, leather gloves straining taught over his knuckles, a muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes stare unblinking towards the star destroyer.

“Are you ready?” Her voice is stern -  shocking her with how it echoes back to her within the suffocating helmet - echoing around the small hull, yet Cal nearly doesn’t hear her, distracted with the storm brewing in his mind, consumed by a rising tidal wave of anxiety, determination and fear.

His eyes finally dart away from the destroyer, turning to glance at his companion over his shoulder, his blue irises red-rimmed and owlish in the overhead lights. The uncanny figure of a storm-trooper greats him, black visor reflecting his own distorted expression back to him from an impenetrable mask of white.

He nods lightly, determination sparking in his weary eyes, the collar of his jacket rubbing uncomfortably against his nape. There was no going back now, he couldn't go back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

----------

Cal squints as he exist the transport shuttle, the overbearing overhead lights bearing down on his frigid frame, the jelled hair peaking form underneath his hat shining with every tilt of his head. The first foot fall on the metal floor seems to resonate throughout the entire hanger, vibrations wracking the bones in his leg, tremors coursing throughout his body and echoing in his ears as several troopers’ heads turn towards the new arrival. His breath catches in his throat and the courage in his stomach withers as he takes another feigned purposeful stride away from the comfort and security of the shuttle, and in towards those waging a war on the galaxy. With every feigned purposeful step shockwaves scatter throughout his tense body, the tension in the air threatening to suffocate him, his heart hammering restlessly against his ribcage and lungs struggling for breath as if he had just ran through the last twelve parsecs. His cerulean eyes lock on his exit from the hanger, offering him a brief solace from the white masks that consumed every corner of his vision, Cere’s steady footsteps behind him offering a further sense of comfort.

By the time the pair finally exit the hanger Cal can practically feel the sweat that had broken out across his body, swiping his forehead to rid of any precipitation that had gathered. His shoulders and spine ached with the effort he had put into maintaining his posture - much in the way he had watched Aylin enter the hanger only several weeks prior - and he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. Although on the outside he may have appeared like ay other Imperial General, cold, unpleasant, perhaps even bored or apathetic to all events that seemed to have been happening around him, inside he had never felt so rattled, his mind a muddled mess, his blood coursing with fear and anxiety which only seemed to mount with every passing second. The panic within thinly veiled with calculated disgust.

Almost as soon as Cal and Cere enter an adjacent corridor to the main hanger, BD comes scuttling around the corner, the pair not recognising the droid in its new round body - Cere’s gloved fingers wrapping dangerously around the hilt of her blaster - until its excited little beeps reach their ears.

“Buddy!” Cal’s facade cracks, grinning down at the little droid as he fights the urge to reach down and give them a hug, worried incase someone should see. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

The little droid, on the other hand, is positively ecstatic, practically vibrating on the spot in both glee at being rescued and frustration that they couldn’t jump straight into Cal’s arms. Truth be told BD had deeply missed their old body during their time stranded on the Dreadnaught. Not waisting any time the little droid rolls behind Cal’s trouser clad legs, ramming into his calves in an attempt to nudge him in the direction of Aylin’s cell and whirring heatedly.

“I know, I know.” Cal steps forward, resolute stature returning to his pale features as he prepares to round another corner. “We’re all going home.”

----------

Within minutes that felt like an eternity the three rebels found themselves amongst the holding cells, BD finally taking the lead to guide them to Aylin’s cell, his happy chirps long silenced as the three grew nearer, all three dreading the sight to await them. Much like when they first arrived, Cal felt suffocated by the pristine atmosphere that seemed to cling to his clothes and hair, dirtying his skin and clogging his throat. It felt fake... the whites and slanted greys, the cleanliness and order, the peace and harmony. The presented image of purity and order, worked into the very steel framework itself, felt so wrong and dirty with the suffering taking place throughout the galaxy at the hands of those that inhabited the ship. Cal could feel the misery and terror that emanated from the dreadnaught itself, seeping into him through the walls and floors, mixed into a terrible concoction with the pride and honour from the officials that walked those very corridors.

It was beloathed, and yet prideful.

Uncomfortably, it reminded him of Aylin.

The red-head tugged at the collar of his jacket as BD came to an abrupt halt at a large durasteel cell door, his mind thrust back to the present. His breath catches in his throat as BD scuttles forward to open the cell door, gloved hand wrapping around the hidden saber at his hip, listening for any approaching footsteps down the corridor. Truthfully, he felt a nervous wreck, the beads of sweat forming along his brow and his greying pallor more so linked to his worry for Aylin than anything else. He could fight if they were caught, and chances are, with both himself and Cere combined, they could easily commandeer an escape shuttle, but he wasn’t certain if he could recover Aylin from the state he had seen her in on the small holopad. At the very moment he couldn’t be sure, and a part of him, a cowardly disdainful part of his conscience, feared opening the cell door to confirm his worry, feared being faced with the broken shell of a woman he couldn’t save. Another person he had failed, a person who had saved him more times than he could count.

Perhaps it was love - his worry at knowing the truth, his fear of seeing the situation first-hand. Cal was ashamed to think such a way.

The cell door hisses open, cool air caressing his feverish skin as he steps through the threshold, the overpowering scent of antiseptic hitting him full force, yet the familiar metallic stench of blood followed. His breath remains in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Bright eyes widening as they flit about the empty room, landing uneasily on Aylin’s still figure. Cal holds his breath, silently begging her to move, for her head to tilt in his direction, for her closed eyes to open, begging her to do anything at all.

“Aylin?” The word echoes around the room, Cal’s voice shaky and cracking around the word, his mouth parched like the deserts of Tatooine. Somehow his palms become even more clammy, and he tosses his gloves to the side without a second thought, small crescents visible in the palms of his hands from how he had clenched them on their short journey. He takes a small step closer.

She doesn’t move.

Cere watches him carefully from behind her helmet as he calls Aylin’s name again and steps further into the room, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. BD, clearly unsure of what to do, hovers around Cere’s ankles, little camera flickering between Cal and Aylin, a barely audible humming even sting from the little droid. She turns to the closed cell door, blaster gripped tightly to her chest, wary of an intrusion.

Things had barely changed from the last time Cal had seen the room through BD’s holopad projection and he was thankful to note that it didn’t look as if Aylin had sustained any more injuries from the day prior, however, that was hard to determine with the crimson that coated her body, undoubtedly hiding wounds from view. Cal stops next to the metal table, peering down at her sullen features, her sunken maroon-bagged eyes closed to the world, chapped lips barely parted. The holopad had failed to pick up many of the finer details, and Cal was horrified to see the blossoms of purple and magenta that littered her face and neck, a particularly worrisome lashing of purple winding around her throat - Cal noting with disgust it’s resemblance to a handprint. Her blonde hair appeared dull and lifeless, slicked back from her face and coated in sweat and blood, a small lesion at her temple and brow trickling into her hairline, pooling in the rivets of her angular features. Blood - darker, older - had been smeared across her cheeks and jaw, cracking along the lines of her face and flaking from her skin, leaving it stained red underneath.

“What did they do to you?” Cal questions softly, not expecting an answer. Gingerly he places his hand on her shoulder, careful to avoid any hidden wounds.

His heart almost lurches from his chest when she flinches from his touch.

“Aylin!” He almost cheers, glee coating his voice as he leans closer, a smile cracking his features. Slowly, weakly, her eyes flutter open, familiar hazel eyes squinting up at him through all the blood and gore. She looked exhausted, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, her left eye only partially open. “Aylin, oh my force, it’s me. It’s Cal.” Lost in his own elation Cal fails to spot the weariness to her features, nor the way her gaze turns to the ceiling, vacant and unseeing. He reaches for the cuff around her wrist, but her hand jerks away from his touch. He pauses, forehead creasing. “Aylin, come on, its me, and Cere, we’re getting you home.”

Her eyes flicker to his for the briefest of moments, brightened under the harsh lighting. “Trilla,” Her voice is hoarse and weak, a husky whisper of what it once was, lined with guilt and exhaustion. She tilts her head away from the red-heads confused gaze, something awful gnawing at her stomach. “leave me alone.”

Silence consumes the room, Cal’s gaze landing on Cere who simply shrugs her shoulders in response. He reaches for her again, swiping a strand of hair from her face, hand retreating just as quickly when her eyes snap open in alarm.

“Aylin, its me, come on-”

“You’re not here.” She was trying to convince herself, not daring to allow her hopes to rise. She was in pain, she was beyond exhausted, and she was dangerously close to giving up, hoping for death as some sort of escape. “You’re not real.” She glances down to his hand that rests against her exposed forearm, mind barely registering the warm pads of his fingers pressing against her pulse. “Trilla, we’ve done this before. You’re a cruel woman.”

She glances away as pity overtakes his features, staring blankly at the ceiling, body slack against the tabletop. ‘We’ve done this before.’ Had Trilla done this before? How many times had versions of himself and the crew attempted to rescue her? How guarded had she had to be, not even trusting her own dreams for fear of revealing what she had tried to keep from those who sought to harm them. He was furious - the anger that had lapped up his throat all week rising like a tidal wave - and he would make them pay, but first he had to get everyone back.

“No, no, it’s us, it’s me. I promise it’s me.” He tries, attempting to scrub the makeup from his face, scars glossy under the harsh white light. He catches BD out of the corner of his eye. “Look!- We’ve got BD, we’re all going home.”

Finally she picks her head up, wincing at the effort. Her wide eyes land on the little droid across the room, mouth agape as the air leaves her lungs and her shoulder slump. Terror and disappointment gnaw away at her conscience, the familiar feeling of helplessness returning full force. “They found BD.” She mutters to herself, defeats palpable in her voice as she allows her head to fall back against the table, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

Cal, in a stressed panic, and unsure of what to do, reaches out through the force, attempting to project his memories, something no one else could possess. But, as he pressed forward a force stops him in his tracks, Aylin’s body tensing at a presence surrounding her mind. “I can show you, just let me- let me in.”

“No! No, no, no-” Cal had never seen so much fear in her eyes, and he withdraws, hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I won’t, I won’t.” He quickly retreats as her panic rises, cuffs clanking against the table as she feebly squirms, force signature returning to his own aura, yet outstretched and welcoming, more than willing for Aylin to make the first move. He wracks his tired and frantic brain for a solution, her panic feeding into his own, not expecting her to have such doubts. They needed to be quick, he knew, but there was no way they could coax her out of the room in the state she was in. “I know you. I know things about you the Empire- that Trilla would never know. Do you remember that time on Hoth when I ripped a glove and almost caught frostbite, I’ve only still got ten fingers because you managed to skin that little creature. What about that time I accidentally singed some of your hair off with my saber when I tried to use it as a torch, I had to pay for you’re haircut afterwards and you got the most expensive treatment just to prove a point. I know you have two sugars in your tea but only every other day; I know you always insist on playing with your knives no matter how many times I ask you to stop; I know that you’re favourite game to play is blackjack because you can count cards and know how to cheat, like that time you scammed me for half a brownie.” He was getting emotional now, the stress and turmoil of the past few days causing unshed tears to gather, his knuckles turning white as he wrings his hands together. “I promise you it’s me.”

They’re in you head. Her conscience echoes, the blonde fighting back tears at her own failure. They know, they know everything. Trilla’s playing, she’s already got what she wants.

“You can’t be here.” He voice cracks and wavers, throat scratchy from misuse, her mounting emotions not helping. She wished he was here, with every fibre of her being she wished Cal actually stood before her, frown on his face and eyebrows knitted together in concern. It couldn’t be true. If he was truly here she might’ve cried, and if this was all another elaborate hallucination created by Trilla then she’d probably cry even harder. She so desperately wanted to go home.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to believe me, you don’t have to do anything.” Cal reaches again for the cuffs binding her hands to the table, one hand reaching for the saber at his hip. “But please let me help you.”

She doesn’t say anything as his hand wraps around her thin wrist, saber igniting   and casting blue light across the room. Within seconds both cuffs are cut from her wrist, falling against the table with a thud. She rubs her wrists gingerly, wincing at the cuts she has sustained during her stay. Grasping her forearm in a delicate grip, other hand sliding behind her shoulder blade, Cal eases her up, wincing at every gasp that leaves her lips. A jaw in his muscle ticks with every sound from her mouth, pity and fury blooming in his chest. 

“Agh-” She grimaces at the pain enveloping her side, ribs protesting against the movement, healing wounds reopening with every twist of her muscle.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Cal urges her on, arm sliding underneath her legs and behind her back, drawing her to his chest as he rises to his full height. Aylin’s head lolls against his shoulder, scared to hope any of this was real but revelling in the familiar warm comfort seeping from the redheads chest.

With a nod shared between `Cal and Cere they depart, deadly silent as they leave the cell, not a trace of their presence left behind. Cal glances down at the woman in his arms, beyond grateful to have her back within arms reach, satisfied with the knowledge no one would be able to harm her now. He had her and he wasn’t letting go.

Cere freezes in front of him, BD rolling into the back of her legs, and Cal’s heart stops in his chest. She urges him back, but as they’re retreating two troops round the corner, halting in surprise. Both troops helmets slowly turn towards the blonde nestled in Cal’s arms, and their blasters raise, shouting commands. Cal ducks as Cere fires, shielding Aylin as well as he could, BD taking refuge behind Cere’s legs.

Within moments the corridor plunges into silence again, two dead troops lain before the four rebels. Cere glances back to Cal, charging her blaster.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down.” And she runs, sprinting in the direction of the escape shuttles - just to the left of the hanger - with BD trailing behind, Cal sprinting to keep up. Rounding another corner he almost crashes into Cere who doubles back, the pair just managing to dodge out of the way of oncoming blaster fire as they disappear around another corner, the slap of their boots against the metal floor drowned out by the shouts of troops on their tail.

“We’re not far.’ Cere calls, throwing her helmet to the side as she gaps for breath, Cal only a few paces behind her. The pair, plus BD, emerge in a small hanger, smaller, more compact escape shuttles lined on either wall, a squad of five stormtroopers ready and waiting.

Cal’s eyes widen as he watches all five troops raise their weapons, heart plummeting to his stomach. There was nothing he could do, he just hoped they granted them death instead of subjecting them to the fate Aylin had been forced to endure. Cere reaches back deftly and grasps his saber from his belt, igniting the blade mere moments before the first blaster fires. She works in a blur, deflecting shot after shot, blue light cast across her features as she steps closer to the enemy, Cal and BD close behind. It wasn’t often the redhead was able to see Cere in combat, usually taking missions with the girl in his arms, and the skill she displayed, surely a product of the wisdom she had amassed over her years, was awe-inspiring. Every movement is precise, each twist and flick of her wrist purposeful, the weight of the saber in her hand appearing little more than a feather with the ease she displays. She deflects and a troop falls, killed by their own shot. 

Slowly but surely the trio make their way towards the closest shuttle, Cal and BD baking away into the ship whilst Cere remains on the defensive, deflecting shot after shot, a bead of sweat running from her brow. Cal places Aylin down on a small cot in the corner of the cramped shuttle, instructing BD to stay behind whilst he collects Cere, running to the boarding ramp, the sounds of blaster shots once again reaching his ears.

“Cere!” He shouts, hanging out of the shuttles door, unable to do much without a weapon. “Cere!”

The older woman retreats slowly, continuing to deflect as she backs up the ramp, the red-head scuttling to the front of the shuttle and switching the engines on, awaiting the sound of the door hissing shut before doing anything drastic.

“Go!” Cere calls and he immediately sets into action, flicking a switch to his right and grasping the steering in both hands, sighing in relief as the shuttle lifts from the floor, paying no mind to the blaster shots that ricocheted off the steelwork around him. Cere appears, clambering into the co-pilots seat, saber grasped tightly in her hand as the ship lurches forward, charging full speed out of the small hanger, Cal frantically inputting the necessary codes for hyperspace, hands flitting about the dashboard in a blur.

With one final lurch the shuttle departs, the red head sighing and collapsing back into the pilots seat, chest rising and falling as he revels in the safety of hyperspace, stars dancing across his vision and illuminating his weary features, the stresses of the day lifting from his shoulders as he watches galaxies stream past. But the day was far from over, and in moments he’s clambering out of his seat, mind once again consumed by the blonde that hadn’t left his thoughts for an eternity.

Leaving Cere in control of their heading Cal retreats into the cramped hull, making a beeline for the blonde huddled atop a thin casket, BD dutifully waiting by her side, camera trained on her intensely, and rolling anxiously from side to side. Cere stares after him, wanting to offer her services, but ultimately deciding to remain in the cockpit, radioing Greez back on the Mantis, knowing that the redhead needed some time with Aylin, alone. 

“I’m back.” Cal announces, sitting on the edge of the small cot, dropping a small medkit onto his lap the he had found in a compartment. His eyes land on the blonde’s pale face, eyes softening at the worry etched across her features, eyebrows knitted together in both pain and concern. He opens his mouth to speak, protruding a set of stims from the cluttered medkit. “I’m going to patch you up and then we’re going home. You’re safe, Trilla can’t get to you anymore.”

Aylin hums, head tilting to the side as she finally makes eye contact with the red head, looking as if she was only truly seeing him for the first time. Her eyes widen and her chapped lips part, a shaking hand reaching out to rest against his own, testing her own reality. Cal smiles softly as she watches him with curious eyes, shallow breaths parting her lips.

“Cal?”

“Yes,” his voice breaks as she finally looks at him, truly looks at him, hazel eyes brightening with every second, fighting back against heavy lids. “yes it’s Cal. We’re going home.”

A small smile fights its way onto her lips, although the joyous moment is broken abruptly, the smile quickly twisting into a grimace as her body finally begins to acknowledge the trauma it had endured, old and new wounds reopened in the frenzy to escape. Her eyes flicker, hand beginning to feel slack against his own. Cal pales, hurriedly uncapping the stim in his grasp.

“You stay awake, you hear?” He jabs the stim into her bicep, preparing the other one in his grasp. He had her, he couldn’t lose her now.

“It hurts.” Her voice is strained, a pathetic replica of her true nature.

“I know, I know it does. I’m going to make it stop, I just need you to stay here, stay with me.” Her eyes flutter again, and Cal is grasping at straws, digging through the medkit for something, anything that could work. The stims hadn't worked as he hoped and now he wasn’t sure what to do. 

“Hey- hey! You keep those eyes open. Don’t you dare-” Fear grips him like a vice. His blood running cold as he leans closer, both hands grasping her shoulders, uncaring for the blood that caked them. He felt helpless, utterly, hopelessly helpless. It had been bad when he had been forced to endure being trapped behind a screen, but oh, this was so much worse. She was right here, he could touch her, talk to her, feel her weak heart beating underneath his very own fingertips, and yet he couldn't do anything. “Look at me. Look. At. Me. I want to see your eyes. Come on.”

Try as she might, her body was beginning to fail and with every passing moment the darkness that had clouded her peripheral for the past few days encroached, the lights in the hull dimming and dimming, until all she could see was Cal’s hazy face staring down at her, his hands clasping either side of her face. “Please.” She couldn’t, her walls finally falling and mind succumbing to the rest it so desperately needed.

“Cere-!”

He sounded desperate. He sounded scared. And for the briefest of moments, Aylin felt guilty.

And then the darkness consumed her.

----------

Cal drifts in and out of sleep, dozing comfortably with his head propped atop a familiar cot in a familiar ship, hand delicately grasping another's with his legs curled under the old chair he had stolen, the hazy figure of Aylin comforting him in his peripheral. It had been a few hours since himself, Cere and BD had returned to the Mantis, patching up Aylin to the best of their ability before tucking her away in her room, on course to the rebel base in order to take up Saw’s offer of medical assistance once word had reached him of their rescue mission. Although Cal had arrived back to the Mantis full of energy, spurred on by his panic and worry for the girl who had practically collapsed in his arms, the hours and hours of stress had worn him down, the young red-head finally agreeing to catch some rest, but refusing to allow Aylin to leave his sight. 

In his half-conscious state, he fails to notice the way the blonde’s lips twitch and eyelids flutter, barely registering the way her fingers flex against his own as the darkness finally releases her, mind and body returning. Aylin stirs quietly, every muscle and joint aching, the soft fabric against her skin a welcome change from the metal table she had called home for force-knows how long. With every passing second her mind returns, cogs turning as the days events come back to her full force, the sight of Cal’s worried gaze seared into the back of her eyelids, her lips parting in a gasp and her body lurching up out of slumber. Her eyes snap open, crazed and panicked as they dart around the dimly lit room, a groan parting her lips as her ribs protest, the gaping wound at her side, now haphazardly wound in fresh bandages, protesting heavily agains the sudden movement.

Cal is startled awake, almost falling from his chair at Aylin’s abrupt movement hazy eyes fighting for clarity amongst his foggy thoughts. “Hey,” He mutters groggily, mind desperately fighting against the sleep that had consumed him only moment before, hands reaching out to grab Aylin’s shoulders. “hey, hey, hey. It’s me, Aylin it’s me.” Finally, the frantic woman’s eyes meet his own, her body relaxing into his touch as he gently guides her back down, the pads of his fingers digging into the exposed flesh of her shoulders. “It’s alright, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” She takes in a shuddering breath as Cal gently sweeps her messy bangs from her eyes, palm resting against her forehead a moment too long, simply savouring that she was here, she was back, she was safe.

Cal sits back in his chair once he makes sure she was okay and settled, fretting like a mother and readjusting her pillows and pulling the thin sheets back up to her chest, fingers smoothing out the white tank top she had been changed into. His cerulean eyes, still slightly blurry with sleep, never leave her figure.

“What happened?” Her voice was quiet, a mere murmer whisked away on the wind. She runs a hand along the bandages freshly wrapped around her shoulder, noting the wraps of gauze around each of her wrists.

“We got you. Cere and I, we went and got you. You were pretty beat up.” His voice cracks and he quickly clears his throat. Aylin pays it no mind, wide owlish eyes staring at him from underneath a pair of heavy lids. “We’ve fixed you up the best we could, Saw’s offered some rebel facilities if we need them.” The small room plunges into silence, neither of them glancing away, Cal’s thumb unknowingly rubbing circles into the back of Aylin’s hand. As an after thought he adds. “We’re at the other end of the galaxy, there’s no way they can find us here. You’re safe, you can get some rest.”

As if she had suddenly remembered, Aylin reveals her force signature, the walls that she had held around her mind - and that she had habitually rebuilt when she awakened - coming crumbling down. Cal watches her shoulders visibly relax as the final remnants of tension leave her body, allowing his own force signature to branch out, enticed yet apprehensive of the new presence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She mutters, eyes falling from his gaze.

“I get it.” He smiles softly, thumb continuing to run soothing circles on the back of her hand. As much as he may have been hurt that she hadn’t told him, he couldn’t deny that he understood why, the events of the last two weeks evidence enough of the consequences. “We can talk about it later, you need some rest.”

Silence envelopes the room, the pair simply content with one another's presence. Cal rests his head on the palm of his hand, eyes beginning to close once again, happy that they had a second chance. Undoubtedly the pair had much to talk about, the crew had to figure out how to move forward, but at least they had that chance. For a long time Cal had feared he would never get that chance and now that he had it, he was not going to let it go to waste. 

Things weren’t perfect, not by any stretch of the word, but the universe had given them the opportunity to try and make things right.

Suddenly, Aylin stirs again, wincing as she attempts to sit up, eyes wide and unblinking as they flit about the room. Cal’s hands shoot out again to stop her. “Where’s BD?” The urgency to her voice was hard to miss, resembling its older self. “Is he alright? Did you find him? I saw-”

“It’s okay, we’re all back. BD’ll be over the moon to know you’re awake, they’ve been peaking into your room every chance they get.” Cal coaxes her back down, more concerned with her reopening any of the wounds the crew had spent a painstaking amount of time trying to patch up than anything else. “And we managed to extract the information you both collected. It’s really going to make a difference.” He pauses, unsure of his next words, wondering how inappropriate they might be, unsure of how the blonde felt about him after her departure. “Thank you.”

Aylin smiles fondly at his worry, allowing him to secure her back in place, delighted that her earlier assumptions hadn’t been true, that Trilla wasn’t just playing some sick mind game, that BD was safe and sound, on the Mantis where they belonged. Then, the words fully register, and her forehead creases in confusion. “For what?”

Cal leans back in his chair, hands running through his disheveled hair, the bags under his eyes more visible with the guilt festering in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve let anyone go and collect the data, and anyone else probably wouldn’t have been in the same danger as you.” His bright eyes drift to the bandages wrapped around her shoulder, flitting across the many bruises visible just from her neck up. “But you did and I- thank you. Thank you for doing this and I know-” He was rambling now, his hands running through his hair as Aylin watches him, a small smile tugging at her chapped lips. “I know I acted like a bit of an ass before you left- and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hesitates again, reaching forward to intertwine their hands, seeking comfort in knowing she was here, that he hadn’t failed her as he had done his master all those years ago. “I heard some of the things Trilla said to you, and I’m sorry you ever thought I wouldn’t come to get you. It was all I could think about since they caught you. Truthfully I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t gotten you back.”

The room plunges into silence once again, uncomfortable and stifling, Cal feeling overwhelmed at the emotions that echoed around him through the force, not daring to reach out to the blonde before him, fearful of what he might discover, fearful of heartbreak. Aylin gazes at the red head from under heavy lashes, weary eyes begging to close. The poor boy looked as exhausted as she felt, deep dark bags under his eyes, skin as pale as snow causing his scars to look red and glossy, highlighting the greyness to his pallor, his hair a dishevelled mess atop his head, tufts sticking out in every direction from the endless amount of times he had ran his fingers through his hair, tugging harshly at the roots in frustration. He had changed since she last saw him, donning a pair of cargo trousers and a comfortable sweater she had suggested he buy form a marker stall once, the navy material bunched up to his elbows, creased and crinkled from the stresses of the day. As tired as he looked and as rough as she felt, she doubted she had ever before been so ecstatic to see him, to see that he cared, even despite the truth of her history. Warmth spread from everywhere he touched, his soft touches and gentle caresses a stark contrast to anything she had felt before; it was everything she had hoped it could be. 

“I remember seeing you in that uniform.” Aylin whispers, daring to break the silence, exhausted yet hopeful eyes boring into Cal’s own. “I’m surprised they didn’t realise you weren't one of them sooner.”

He was taken aback at the abrupt shift in conversation, cerulean eyes boring into Aylin’s own hazel pair with curiosity, his mind reeling at the exhaustingly dazzling smile she sent his way.

“And why’s that?” He questions softly, thumb unknowingly continuing to rub gentle circles on the back of her hand.

“Your eyes.” Cal’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, beginning to wonder if she had been able to understand his words in her drugged state. “They’re too kind.”

A moments pause. Cal could feel the familiar bloom of heat along his cheeks spreading to his ears, he dreaded to think how flushed he must look.

“They didn’t match the uniform at all.”

“You’re obviously delirious,” he deflects jokingly, voice just as soft, warmth spreading through his cheeks and neck. “the uniform didn’t even fit-”

“The eyes are the window to the soul.” She mutters defiantly, determined even despite her dazed and exhausted state. “I’ve seen the eyes of some of the cruelest men and women in the galaxy. You’re too good for them Cal, you’re too good for us, you’re too good for me. I don’t know why you came to save me, but I can’t thank you enough. I never thought I would get to see your eyes again.”

Because I love you. He wanted to say, yet his mind wouldn’t let him, forcing partial truth from his lips.

“I was worried I’d never get to see you again.” Cal admits, leaning forward in his chair. “You have no idea how worried I was. You’ll be the death of me one day.”

His eyes study her face; the softness of her cheeks, the angularity of her jaw, the curve of her lips. His eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips and then back again, watching a small smile carve its way across her small lips. He felt like a boy again, unsure and uncertain, inexperienced and insecure. He had felt like this many times around the blonde, but this time, he wouldn’t shy away. She was a shining star in an ever darkening galaxy, and he’d be dead before he let her fall from his grasp again. Mustering all the courage in the galaxy, his lips part. “I was worried I’d never get to do this.”

Some part of him, the part that remembered his time with the Jedi before the end to it all, the end of an era, stirred fear in his heart; fear of attachments, fear of loss, fear of love. A life of solitude and harmony he had practiced like a mantra, and that in every step of the way, when it came to the blonde in front of him, he had failed, time and time again. He remembers how he had felt when she had been captured, the way his heart had seized and his world had stopped, how his life since than had been nothing but worry and hurt, nothing but pain for what could have been and what might never be, the pain of loving someone and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to protect those he cares for more than anything else in the galaxy. 

He had never been that dutiful of a Padawan anyway.

He leans closer, impossibly so, watching the grin grow on Aylin’s face as her eyes flutter shut. His lips connect with her own, melding together in an innocent affair, a hand coming up to cradle the side of her jaw, the other tightening its grip on her hand. He presses forward, heart hammering out of his chest and blood rushing through his ears as she kisses back, her free hand coming up to tentatively grasp the back of his neck, drawing him down to her; the girl he had been so close to losing, the boy she had been so close to forgetting. It was brief and uncertain, testing new waters both had been too scared to explore, but every emotion they had kept bottled for so long came bubbling to the surface; the hurt, the pain, the helplessness, the love. In moments that felt like an eternity Cal pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, wide uncertain eyes locked with her own with haggard breaths falling from his lips.

“Took you long enough.” She grins from underneath the sheets, her own heart ready to explode from her chest.

“Get some rest.” He mutters behind a laugh, pulling back to sit back in his chair, arms crossing to prop his head on the corner of the bed, one hand outstretched to hold her own in his strong grip. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[chamerionwrites]

📕 hit me up please!

After that Extremely Cheerful fic premise featuring Draven, please enjoy this palate cleanser also featuring Draven (and more importantly Jyn):

I’ve touched on this briefly before (Ahsoka + Maul remains one of the sole redeeming qualities of TCW), but imho one of the greatest writing joys is cramming unexpected/markedly different/directly-at-odds-with-each-other characters into tight proximity and extreme circumstances and watching the characterization sparks fly. I love, love, love exploring what kind of dynamic develops when people who would not normally interact that often or that intimately are forced to rely on each other for survival and/or success in some very important goal.

I think this should happen to Jyn and Draven.

In the Rogue One Lives AU these two have the makings of a fascinatingly uncomfortable character dynamic. They have Galen but also Cassian between them. They’re personally at odds but fighting on the same side of a war. (Or rather, Jyn is personally antagonistic and has every right to be. I don’t think Draven actually harbors any personal antagonism for Jyn at all; the abrasiveness in the film strikes me as obligatory spymaster suspicion + being a bit of a dick on purpose to see what sort of information and/or reaction it might shake loose, which tbf is also Cassian’s interrogation tactic in that scene.) Both of them have a strong pragmatic streak and while the world's biggest elephant is always going to crowd the room, I think both could agree wholeheartedly on a limited set of principles including “not dying,” “ruining the Empire’s day,” and/or “Cassian Andor’s well-being.”

IRL this would be actively excruciating and probably traumatic to deal with but in fiction it’s fun to read about, because that kind of impossible-to-resolve tension draws interesting things out of characters.

Also…….listen. Sometimes (often!) I want haunting explorations of the cost of violence on the human soul but sometimes. sometimes. I want my faves kicking ass and taking names. Sometimes I am a woman of simple tastes, a good action scene is one of them, and I find the idea of Jyn “canonically twelve ounces of whoop-ass” Erso and Davits “canonically down for a bit of good old-fashioned murder” Draven teaming up against Imperials darkly hilarious. The former is one of Saw Gerrera’s best soldiers according to Saw Gerrera, and the latter exudes a strong aura of “probably saw some shit in the early days when the Rebel Alliance was approximately twelve people held together with spit and duct tape, lived to tell about it, and believes fervently that ‘fighting dirty’ is a synonym for ‘fighting smart.’” THE CHAOS THEY WOULD UNLEASH LMAO.

Do they get cut off in an ice tunnel together while retreating from Hoth and have to fight their way out? Do they join forces to rescue Cassian from an intelligence operation that went tits-up? I don’t care! I do not actually want them to reach a neat and tidy understanding because, as noted, I think Jyn deserves to hold that grudge and in any case a bit of foxhole camaraderie is not enough to fix a conflict of that magnitude. I simply want them to collaborate in spectacularly ruining the Empire’s day while exhibiting emotionally strained but terrifyingly competent teamwork, because sometimes what the id wants is Pretty Explosions with a side of character development. Also I think that at the very least Jyn deserves the opportunity to say “Hey asshole. Watch my back. Don’t fuck it up,” while Draven very dryly replies "Duly noted" because (1) too many people are shooting at them to argue and (2) he knows he deserves it. And because (3) I, personally, am entertained by this precise flavor of battlefield snark.

I am not writing this, because frankly what I really want to do is read this, but possibly someday I will try my hand.

[jyndor]

1. she ran with saw "clarity of purpose" gerrera as a kid

2. she was in an Imperial labor camp

3. she saw a bunch of Imperials kill her mother as a child like ???

obviously she hates the empire

I also don't see people calling luke skywalker a piece of shit for his "I hate the empire but the fuck am I gonna do about it" attitude in anh

I think something that rogue one and andor both do really well is give you main characters that are LIARS, that the stories tell you are liars, and then... people assume they're telling the truth about something that they are then seen contradicting constantly. like don't get me wrong i have issues with grown man cassian andor joining the rebellion (i'd prefer he join in his teens if he has to go through a disillusionment period tbh but whatever) but come on. if anything, rogue one and andor are both about characters who do actually have politics and do hate the empire and do want to fuck it up, but don't feel empowered to do anything about it because they've tried in the past and the cause clearly only hurt them. i mean, jyn literally tells saw that after taunting him about how easy it is to just not look up.

i know that for a lot of people these words coming from a person who looks like jyn is not... unfamiliar, and frankly i see it all the time - far more apathy and unbotheredness from white women i speak with than others. i get it. and rogue one doesn't do enough to show us how jyn DID fight as a kid, how she DID care - the book and rebel rising as well as that little animation with her and sabine do a lot of heavy lifting to flesh out her character. which is a fucking shame. andor does a lot more justice to the character they're trying to present, even if it doesn't always work for me based on six years of being in the fandom and watching the film a hundred times and reading the novel a billion times and being too much lol.

but jyn erso is literally a child soldier and then gets abandoned by the cause as a teenager, so yeah i'd say she's allowed to be a cunt about the rebellion if she wants. she still gets shit done lmao.

repeat after me: jyn erso is not apathetic she is literally just trying to get a rise out of everyone in particular saw and to a lesser extent cassian, plus she's also beat down by the literal trauma she's been through her whole life

jesus christ people she cares she's always cared

[samspenandsword]

Fandom ask: the clone wars!

Nat!! Thanks so much for asking 🥰🥰 (I'll try to focus on CW characters and not just overarching SW characters but welp let's see what happens)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Rex. My dear Captain Rex. I do not have words to describe how much I love that man. It's so dorky and nerdy, but gosh I love him and I am so inspired by everything he does and how he remains so good after everything he experienced. Rex is, hands down, my favorite Star Wars character of all time. (I'm actually gonna get a Captain Rex tattoo shhhhh)

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

R2D2 makes me unreasonably happy. I love that chaotic funky little robot.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Steela Gerrera. She is smart, she is badass, she is dedicated, she is loyal, and also she's outrageously attractive. I totally loved her character and genuinely wished we got to see more of her.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

Maybe not the most obscure, but Commander Fox could show up in literally anything and I'd be like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Same with Bail Organa tbh

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

How can I answer with anyone other than Anakin Skywalker. He is not unpopular, or pathetic, but he is problematic lol. Anakin Skywalker evokes such emotion in me, and I am not articulate enough to express them. His journey is such a long, arduous one, and Clone Wars only added to the tragedy of it. For a long time, I felt like there was such a disconnect in Anakin's fall (seeing him jump from a cute, excitable little (well-meaning) trouble magnet to an arrogant, angsty padawan with no filter or social skills, to a tortured Jedi Knight who is so emotionally stretched he can't think straight), but CW really bridged those jumps for me. We truly saw Anakin's fall, step-by-step, in CW, and woo I love it and him.

But also Savage Opress tbh

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

Okay, part of me really wants to answer with C-3PO, cause it would be so funny, but I think I have to go with Hondo. Mostly because I think he would get a kick out of me tormenting him and would let me continue just to see what I would come up with.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

Pong fucking Krell. And I don't think I need to say anything else.

Thanks so much for sending this in, Nat! It was super fun!!

Send me a fandom ask

[vaguely-concerned]

I am reading the Rogue One visual guide and I’m going to ramble at you about it

Starting with Baze and Chirrut facts because nothing is more important than Baze and Chirrut

- The Guardians of the Whills believe very deeply in the Force but their cosmology doesn’t center any fight between light and dark and they believe mortal minds can ‘encompass the totality of the Force’ with the right training (seemingly even for non-Force sensitives). *thinks of a little green baby who’s going to need some help with his place in the universe one day and how reductive the light/dark side dichotomy can be* good to know good to know. yes everything eventually comes down to baby yoda and his poor stressed out dad. protect them

- “Opposites in balance. Chirrut Îmwe and Baze Malbus share a homeworld and a history, although they strike a compelling contrast. Baze is a hardened pragmatist, while Chirrut’s faith flourishes even in trying times. They both claim to act as the protector of the other.” 

in every way they are #goals. bffs/partners to lovers is Everything. ‘They both claim to act as the protector of the other’ is very funny and very sweet and very true; my favourite thing

- this book describes chirrut as baze’s ‘best friend and moral compass’, which is a funny way of spelling ‘husband of 30 years’ but who am I to criticize 

- baze is just. he’s so good. they say here pragmatism is his biggest trait but you can tell how much love has been at the center of him (and probably continues to be under it all) from the totality of his rage. I don’t think you can be this deeply hurt without loving just as deeply first. (like chirrut says, he used to believe more than anyone and now he’s thrown aside literally everything about the guardians except chirrut) it’s like he’s suffered a moral wound just seeing what’s happened to his home and it won’t heal and it never does, he just loses chirrut too and then at least it’s over. jesus christ it’s so soul crushingly sad in a quiet undramatic way 

- “Though both are Guardians of the Whills, Baze and Chirrut could not be more different in their approach to combat. Traditionalist Chirrut still carries weapons associated with the ancient order, while Baze adopts an implement of modern warfare. Their methods suit them individually, and both are effective extensions of their distinctive personalities. Though Baze may chide Chirrut for his antiques, and Chirrut may decry Baze’s reliance on soulless tools, they trust each other’s defences to such weapons.”

THEY TRUST EACH OTHER’S DEFENCES TO SUCH WEAPONS. YOU HAD TO WORD IT LIKE THAT HUH. YOU HAD TO GO AND MAKE IT CLEAR THEY’RE EACH OTHER’S MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD. WHAT. THE FUCK

- it’s implied baze’s hair used to be shorter when he was a Guardian! he’s just let it grow past what’s customary for them (and an excellent choice too his hair is wonderful)

- his repeating blaster is described as ‘modified and highly illegal’ hahaha

it also weighs 30 kg and is meant to be mounted on a tank

baze is the best

- chirrut built his own lightbow! apparently used to be a thing the guardians did to symbolize the end of their training. I wonder if baze used to have one too? even more I wonder if they’ve always been part of the same uh ‘divisions’ or what have you within the guardians, because I think there are some implications that baze has been more of an assassin/focused on violent conflicts even before the empire came and chirrut hasn’t

- this book does not adequately capture chirrut’s trickster/funny side, making me wonder how much of that was an addition by the actor and how much was planned out

- honestly... more baze & chirrut (well baze/chirrut let’s not play here) prequel books WHEN. what does their living room look like (because we do know they live together) how did they meet, when exactly did baze lose his faith and chirrut his sight, what was their first kiss like 

inquiring minds want to know (it’s me I want to know) 

- unless the wording is deliberately misleading here chirrut was not born blind (though he won’t discuss how he ended up this way) and he’s learned his current fighting technique over a prolonged period of time 

- bodhi is a bit of a gambling addict! and specifically one who’s pretty good at it; even after the empire knows he’s a defector he gets past their restrictions because he’s saved up all the credits/favours/even id-vouchers he’s owed by other imperial grunts fsdhfksdjf precious I love him 

- saw gerrera’s medical droid a) has been modified so its programming won’t stop it from being able to dispense drugs at dangerous intervals, b) professes sheer bafflement that saw is still alive and c) is ‘frequently deactivated to prevent it from building an ethical case to discontinue treatment’. I find the whole thing darkly hilarious.  

- there are literally whole subplots going on in the crowd scenes on Jedha about a mad evil surgeon who ‘decraniates’ people (essentially turning them into mindless servile husks with all of their head above the nose cut off, somehow), a masked cop from the Milvayne Authority who’s gone rogue to do the right thing and hunt him down against orders, a death cult, a bunch of different religious sects, a translation droid who has befriended a group of local orphans and shares his credits with them so they can eat and he’s SAVING UP FOR A PROCESSOR UPGRADE SO HE CAN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND THE NATURE OF SPIRITUALITY ;_____; what the fuck I want a tv-series about this droid IMMEDIATELY 

- this book shows you just how crucial K-2 is as an asset and what a masterstroke cassian’s reprogramming of him is... and it says some very, very sweet things about cassian as a person under all the trauma and spy stuff that he essentially treats him as his best friend instead of a tool. cASSIAN he deserved to survive and have SO much therapy ;_____; ah well at least we’re getting a prequel series about him right? pls be good

- oh cassian was a proper separatist during the clone wars! he probably has some very interesting points of view about the republic pre- and post empire huh (this is what I love about the clone wars era; they have built SUCH a believable and interesting political world here, all shades of grey. there were separatists with very valid points even thought they were lead by a guy named COUNT DOOKU played by CHRISTOPHER LEE, the first sign that you should look inwards and ask yourself... wait are we the bad guys)

- it’s so much more understandable to me now who in the rebel leadership is for following jyn’s plan and who is not. (namely: the ministers of finance and industry are both Not Into challenging the empire directly, kind of understandably)

in depth description of weapons technology... I sleep. deep dives into the political structure of the alliance leadership and their backgrounds and motivations? I have never been happier

(this. sort of should have been in the actual movie tho things would have made more sense)

- BAIL ORGANA Leia’s actual dad out there lookin’ fiiine, being righteous and good, almost making me forget he’s going to die SO SOON oh fuck :( 

- orson krennic is, presumably straight faced, described as ‘a cruel but brilliant man’ which is PATENTLY LUDICROUS because krennic is by literally every indication a fucking idiot, he needs galen to do all the real work for him, he mouths off to DARTH VADER and then tarkin just effortlessly swoops in and fucks him over in the end, easily outmaneuvering him... orson krennic is a fucking loser I don’t care if he’s the one who introduced brutalist architecture to coruscant

lol lol lol *arrow pointing towards krennic’s head* ‘Keen mind dissects architectural puzzles and conspiratorial plots’ okay I see what happened here orson krennic wrote this book 

- oh galen erso is kind of one of the most interesting and heartbreaking characters in all of star wars. (and I do not say this just because of mads mikkelsen’s cheek bones) he’s incredibly intelligent but from a really poor family and wanted to eliminate the difference between rich and poor and invent a new form of infinitely renewable energy... and technically he did achieve that, except his old college buddy orson krennic immediately found a way to use his technology for genocide and he didn’t realize until it was too late :’) there is something so comforting in the fact that in the end galen still got the last laugh in the most epic but unsung way. he’s the sort of quiet Magnificent Bastard who doesn’t even care he’ll never get the credit as long as it worked. u did good on that one jyn

also several of the scientists galen is leading on eadu are in the same category as him -- captured and forced to work for the empire. so that’s great and not at all upsetting 

- galen and lyra’s falling in love story is kind of sweet (though naturally it pales against baze and chirrut’s whole deal but then who could compare) and the sheer effort and detail that’s gone into building the farmstead in the beginning we end up seeing for 5 minutes... dude (it feels very convincingly like somewhere a family would live though) 

- *sees that ‘databook’ is a concept that exists apparently; groans in fic research I thought ‘holodisc’ might do the job but maybe this is a better fit*

- I will say that my largest gripe with this movie is how glaringly unnecessarily male it is. there’s literally no reason for most of the rebels and ESPECIALLY all of the scientists to be male but here we are. 

well the stormtroopers could all canonically be any gender behind the armor so uh that’s. something lol

- despite being all desert-y jedha is apparently quite cool! temperature-wise I mean though the huge ancient statues lying everywhere are pretty awesome too

- wow stormtrooper armor really does just suck huh. it’s like ‘well it might protect you from a blaster bolt if you stand upwind and angle yourself just right, who knows’. I guess this is why everyone and their grandmothers are drooling over mando’s beskar lol

- star wars’ insistence on sticking to single-biome planets is so silly and I love it. stick to that incomprehensible world building decision lucasfilm I respect you

- mon mothma! basically the most important character in the star wars universe who most people won’t know about lol she’s like the anti-palps. for the most part she is one of the most Big Goods in all of star wars (along with bail) but also she’s played by the actress who voices moira in overwatch so I do instinctively distrust her whenever I hear her talk haha. called palpatine a ‘lying executioner’ to his face which is both admirably bold and remarkably restrained, considering all the things palpatine is.

- oof the two people mentioned the most on anakin/vader’s pages are palpatine and obi wan. that’s. hurtful and bad and awful. the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was making me watch ‘clone wars’ because watching ‘clone wars’ actually made me care about anakin skywalker :(

-ah shit this is a lot of pages about pasty empire dudes i’ll uh come back to these lol

[narkinafive]

late roundup again

this has been in my drafts for two days lmao sry

i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again, of all the planets that got fucked by the empire, geonosis got FUCKED. by the empire

like, disturbingly so

hrm, saw gerrera stop challenge

but also ezra beign so soft w klik klak... a gentle boy

i know it’s a tragedy that steela (the better leader/more stable one) died but like............ come on dave

is there more saw gerrera centric stuff out there, or does he just pop in for cameos every now and then whenever an author needs a terrorist?

vague references to project stardust like #N U T 

seriously that’s like the number one reason i like prequels so there can be vague references to stuff that i know is coming

so all the vague death star things

# NNNN UUUU TTTT

“i always forget they can do that” “he’s good, but he’s no skywalker” immediately starts crying

“stupid sand, gets everywhere” somewhere on mustafar darth vader feels validated for the first time in his life

ugh and that queen egg becomes a weird freaky sterile monster :( :( :( i’m so fucke dup

i would legitimately watch an entire movie of zeb and the droids. the sitcom sarcasm is FIRE

hhhrhrhhhrhhrhrh TRIALS OF THE DARKSABER I HAVE SO MUCH I COULD SAY ABOUT THIS EPISODE....................

the mUSIC

SABIN’ES MOTIF!! 

flutes/drums for mandalore vs the brassy jedi instrumentation >.>

i know kanan was being an asshole but i love the aloof blind weaponsmaster training trope so shrug sue me

also, peak sibling energies in this episode

ezra shut the FUCK up you DUMB TURD - sabine, every time he made fun of her

the sequence of kanan walking her through a series with the lit saber... ugh ugh there’s so much

kanan’s mask off! the seriousness! him dragging her to the truth and dodging all of her anger blows!!! HHHRHRHGHGH

also kanan fighting w one hand behind his back is hot, @ me all you like i’m right

speaking of planets that get absolutely boned by the empire

her family pledging to follow her into battle... dave you got me FUCKED! UP!

ezra t posing to assert dominance as sabine’s favorite brother

OOOO THAT KLIMT REFERENCE DAVE!!!

gar saxon is a little dicked bitch, rest in FUCKING PIECES NERD!!

kallus simulator vr

chaotic stupid: ezra getting himself caught to kidnap/liberate the imperial mole. sweetie there were better ways

kallus’ voice cracks as he fully groks ezra dumbass mission plan slksdflfsdkljs MY LOVE

there’s a lot of good ezra sass in this episode

man gov pryce really was That Bitch

i hate to see her leave but i love to watch her go... 

press f for lieutenant lyste

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh teh formation of the alliance!!!! ahHHHH LOOK AT THEM ALL

also hera’s FLYING

again, somewhere on mustafar anakin is weirdly proud and he doesn’t know why

BUT YEAH MON MOTHMA!!! FUCKIN GO OF!!! TELL EM BITCH!!!

also wow where did she get the inspiration for such a ............... call to action .............. i wondE  r

[shmisolo]

the star wars penis headcanon masterlist (by popular demand apparently)

baz: the word that springs to mind is staunch. i'm thinking stocky. yes. he's got a stocky dick.

chewbacca: not that you'd know because his hair is so long and soft and smooth, but it's hiding a really ginormous dick. like easily the biggest in all of star wars. chewie's very humble about it tho. he's had a rough life and doesn't need to get into pissing contests with people. let the wookiee live.

finn: finn strikes me as a shower not a grower, and he's got nothing to be ashamed of in terms of what he has to show. tbh i'd argue probably the most aesthetically pleasing dick in all of star wars. like good proportion to the rest of his torso.

ackbar, gial: his is probably like the fish creature in the shape of water where it's like hidden and only pops out when he's gettin' ready to get down.

andor, cassian: i feel like it's pretty average sized, gets the job done well and fills you up nicely. i get the feeling that it's one of the ones that really shows the bloodflow?

antilles, wedge: wedge wedge darling wedge. i don't think his penis is very big. i don't think he cares though bc his concern is bringing the empire down which is probably the right way to handle the toxic masculinity surrounding conversations of penis size.

binks, jar jar: let's be clear about one thing--you all kept bringing up jar jar. i didn't ask for this, you did. so, without further ado--jar jar is probably the most capable of pleasuring his partner of any character in the star wars canon. 1) have you seen that tongue? dicks are great and all (and i'll get to his in a second) but we /all/ know that tongues are where it's at and jar jar's is long and strong. 2) he has a huge dick. like not so big that it's terrifying to fuck, but just the right size that it'll do you right for hours on end. so there we have it, kids. jar jar binks: the cassa nova of star wars.

calrissian, lando: ok this isn't dick-size related, but we all know that lando has the best groomed pubes of anyone ever. like it's stylin'. his dick ain't bad. not bad at all, but it's the pubes that make him stand out.

dameron, poe: slightly above average length when erect--a grower not a shower.

dooku, count: a full 8 inches. bet you didn't want to know that. too bad.

erso, galen: p nondescript tbh

fett, boba: has like a mirror image dick of his dad's.

fett, jango: huge and veiny. like almost disconcertingly veiny.

fortuna, bib: you know that weird thing that extends from his head and sort of wraps around his neck before disappearing into his robe? that's actually his penis. why are you booing me i'm right?

gerrera, saw: solid 8 inches but not super thick.

hutt, jabba the: people have been telling me that in legends, they say that hutts are hermaphroditic and can fuck themselves. i personally think that jabba *is* the penis. choose your own adventure, dear reader.

hux, armitage: long, but thin. i don't really think he's good at using it, tbh, bc he's def not a giving lover. so even if he's proud of his length he's got a lot of work to cover.

imwe, chirrut: pretty average sized but oh boy does he know how to use it. like his force sensitivity is a major boon to him.

jinn, qui-gon: qui-gon's dick is massive. like bigger than just about any other human's on this list i think, though not as big as chewie's.

kenobi, obi wan: obi wan gets the most giving and communicative lover in all of star wars award. his dick is pretty average--like probably on the small side--but oh man do you not notice that if you're in the sack with him holy fucking shit.

krennic, orson: ok so true story. krennic's dick is disconcertingly similar to anakin's pre-mustafar. that might be why they butt heads as much as they do. no one will ever really know.

lars, owen: owen's got a short dick, but it's pretty thick. idk why but the phrase "typical uncle dick" is coming to mind but it is.

maul, darth: red and black and has tiny tiny thorns. i'm also gonna throw it out there that maul's dick, like the rest of him, is highly flexible.

needa, lorth: short dick. real short dick.

organa, bail: let's just say breha's a lucky woman because her man has a decently sized penis but also is nearly at obi wan levels of giving-ness.

palpatine, sheev: lmao it's like a shriveled worm after his showdown with mace windu.

panaka, quarsh: a good 9 inches.

piett, firmus: solid 7.5 inches. good circumference. is subtle about that.

rook, bodhi: long and not toooo thick but not toooo thin.

skywalker, anakin: lbr here, his dick was probably pretty good. like average goodness. not too big not too small, not too thick not too thin. a balance in the force if you will. it also probz got burned off on mustafar. (i swear it's not actually conical.)

skywalker, luke: luke's dick is 💯💯💯, but most importantly, he comes from the obi wan school of being a very giving lover and so not only is he blessed with a 💯💯💯 dick, but he's using it the way dicks were meant to be used.

solo, ben: ben solo is the tallest and thiccest human in the star wars series; his dick is proportional to the rest of his body.

solo, han: good and girthy. not the longest in the universe but good solid girth work there.

tarkin, wilhuff: tarkin's dick is tiny.

veers, maximillian: if i had to pick some empire dick to ride it'd probably be veers', tbh. thick, long, doesn't get too disconcertingly colored when erect. not too shabby all around not too shabby.

windu, mace: good and long and thick. like his lighsaber, it purples when it's activated.

yoda: listen all of yoda is small, so let's not make a "he's got a small dick" joke because that's just cheap. it's. just. cheap. his dick is proportional to the rest of him, and for his species that's doing pretty good. you've seen the dude fight with a lightsaber--do you really think he's not capable of workin' it?