#and babu frik too

[whollyjoly]

today i learned that the actress who played moaning myrtle also is babu frik and i cant fucking handle it

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter IX : Persephone

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Angst

A/N: *babu frik voice* heeeyyyyyyyy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.6K

Read on AO3

PART II

CHAPTER IX : PERSEPHONE

What are we made of but hunger and rage?

Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

Din pauses mid-hunt, heart jolting back against his ribs – on Corellia’s Maker blasted surface for a bounty once again. He’d avoided returning here since that last time, but with the kid gone now, with nothing to do with himself but count his losses, he’d sucked it up, taken the private contract, and now… something in the distance, dying or coming alive… it rings, it howls. 

The call comes again: low, far off, electrifying, agonized. He changes direction and follows it, recognizing it like he’d recognize the call of his own name, his ad’ika’s cries, the sound of a heart beating or dying. 

He’d imagined this a million times in a million different ways, turning a corner, another, suddenly dizzy and sick and terrified, terrified. He hastens his pace, holding his blaster tight against his thigh to keep it from jostling, and promises himself he won’t actually think of it, won’t imagine the full dream or nightmare of it, not yet, not yet… but there is something out there, just ahead. Something that grabs hold of the pillar of his spine and tugs, knows him, calls to him. 

His heart beats faster than an X-wing, and he can’t help but fall into weakness and hope. He lets the thought of you bleed in, something he allows himself only in the most dire of moments, when he’s so alone or so afraid or so angry he can’t control the missing. Your face, your voice, your scent like wading through water, the memory of your skin like sharing your name with someone for the first time, like flying or being alive; a knowing unlike anything else, like experiencing the whole world, your whole life in one single blink, holding it like a just-about-to-fall tear over the ledge of your eye. 

He remembers you like he remembers being alive, always there, always present, the next beat of his heart. 

He tries to measure his breathing, feels his throat spasm, almost choke him, and he forces himself with all of his considerable strength to control his movements, to not break out into a full unthinking sprint. One more slink around a cornered building, and then you’re just there. Just there in the distance. The lines and slopes of the girl he used to love. 

Nothing more than the movement of breathing shadow, and he wants to dwell on the past tense of his own thoughts, fixate and pick them apart, but he moves past it. Focuses on the image, perhaps invisible to someone who’d not come to love the dark as he had, but he finds you, he’d always be able to pick you out of the darkness. Sliding slowly along the building face, as if melded to the steel, slithering along the night like a mercury thief. 

Din felt he’d become a hostile, barren wasteland of a man these past two years; quick to anger, quick to aggression, worse than ever before; miasma within his heart now, no longer the sun. The only thing that had tempered him, gentled him, had been Grogu, and now even he too, was gone. And he knew the dark saber hadn’t helped, if anything, the thing had worsened his issues. The power of it wasn’t something that complimented this too restless heart of his.

You’re moving up ahead slowly, and he watches the line of your back, the slopes of your shoulders, the shifting of your hair, and he’d hoped for so long, all these agonizing days and months and years apart, that he’d look over his shoulder one day, and see you in the distance, that a crowd would part and you’d be there. Through his mission for Grogu, losing his ad’ika, this time now, alone, he’d looked for you, hoped for you. 

He can feel your focus elsewhere, ignorant of your surroundings, honed on the pull of the shadows around you, perhaps, as you keep yourself cloaked, or your steps forward, to where he does not know, but there’s zero awareness in his direction. And he realizes that for the first time in this catch and trap game the two of you had always enjoyed playing – you don’t feel him coming.

You pause suddenly, hand like a flash of the sky trailing along the building face, bracing yourself there for a moment. He’s a several paces distance away from you, and he’d have thought you’d have sensed him by now, but as you come to a standstill beneath a jutting awning, a light drizzle starts to mist the air, and it’s as if the two of you are separated by one final veil, one last test. You, apart, in your own world, him, waiting to be let in. And you stand there, still and propped up by the side of the building, head tilting back slowly to peer up at the dark sky above, and with the slightest shift of your chin, there you are. Your face again before him for the first time in two years. 

Din sees you again. 

And suddenly, the shock and anger clear from his head long enough to realize that there’s something off – your gait or your posture or the careful measuredness with which you press each foot in front of the other, a strange limp and shift that favors your right side, the way you’re using the building’s face to keep yourself upright.

A cold dread freezes deep in his belly. 

Something’s wrong. 

He watches the flutter of your lashes as you close your eyes to let the cold raining mist fall upon your upturned face, and the sight of you deals Din a famished, hollow feeling; his heart working in a fast and broken rhythm. There’s something wrong, something wrong, and the organ works so hard it hurts him, almost forces the metal around his chest to rattling with its ferocity. 

The world suddenly seems inverted, mirrorlike. The black puddles on the sides of the streets, filling with dark mercury that reflect the sight of you. And he can feel each breath filter through his lungs, as if he could taste each particle of oxygen as it moves through his body, stepping out and away from himself, away from you, frightened, anxious, lost, lost, lost. He wants this, and yet, he does not. Had wished for this for days and hours and years and weeks and yet suddenly, he wants to turn and run far away and not face the reality of his past and his heart. 

I’ve lost my way, ended up in some strange, narrow land where I recognize nothing. Not even myself, not even you. Almost. 

This unexpected bounty seems like nothing more than a bone chilling triumph.

You’re the same, and yet not. Your body still soft, your curves still lush, but there’s a sort of meagerness, a stillness to you that’d not been there two years ago.

It seems you’d both lost something. 

He has to take a moment to catch his breath, hiding within the shadows of the buildings edge, he mimics your lean against the damp wall, and you’re still looking up at the falling sky, impossibly, more beautiful than he remembered, and he’s suddenly afraid that he’ll vomit inside his helmet. His heart flutters and writhes and screams so that he’s dizzy, tremulous, sick and hot and cold all over, on the verge of tears. Tears? And then suddenly, he’s angry. He’s so fucking angry from one moment to the next. Shocked into fury. How can you be here? Leaving him to muddle about in his shock and disorientation, prancing about this planet which he’d told you, he’d told you, was too dangerous. You never listened to him. 

He moves again, propelled by righteous anger. 

And he’s silent, silent; Din is nothing but the ghost you made him. He’s almost there, his fingertips stretching towards this dream he’s had for so many days, for two years and endless seconds. He is so close. You pull your eyes from the rain, looking away, down the opposite end of the dark street, and it’s as if he can feel your mind thrum and whirl in all directions but his. Turn to look at me, turn and notice me. Why the fuck haven’t you noticed me? I’ve been searching for you for two years and my whole life. And then a sudden cacophony of crashing and desperate clumsiness, no longer measured or restrained, full of hunger and rage, and you finally realize; jumping, skittering ahead suddenly, spinning blindingly. So fast you’re a blur, frightened out of your skin. 

He doesn’t realize you’ve moved until you’re almost out of his reach once again. And Din snaps into color and focus at that singular threat, that hint of the possibility of repeated loss. He moves – covers a distance of approximately fifty yards in no more than five or six seconds. Coming up behind you fast and hard so that there’s no mistaking the sound of muscle and beskar and man barreling down upon you, teeth bared and ready to snap you up by the nape, drag you away, kept forever, were in not for the prison of his own promises. 

You move again like a flash and a wink, and then you’re spinning, spinning, pulling the violet of plasma from your cloak on him in one of those lovely flourishes you’d always preferred. Like a dancer and a swan and the love of his life. You pull your weapon on him and Din feels that ferocious love that brandishes teeth and your name spark and burst alive within his heart once again; amazed and uncaring of the threat on his own life.

It beats, it beats, he thinks, I live. What does it matter what happens after this? I’m alive again.

You bare your teeth at him in a tiny, fractured snarl, incongruous with the immensity of the fear held in your eyes. But that bursts too, and at the last moment, when he finally remembers he has to be alive to take you for himself again, that he can’t let you actually kill him in a fit of fright, that he’s angry with you and needs to tell you so, he brings his arms up to block the death dealing blow. His vambraces spark between the two of you, and he wonders suddenly if every man that’s stood in this place Din is now in, waiting to meet his end at your hand, had felt as grateful and awed as he does now, nothing but violet ends and eyes like a whisper and a scream.  

And when those eyes focus, when you realize it’s him, that soft mouth he’d dreamt of endlessly, spilled his seed to the memory of in his sleep, for months after you’d gone, rolling around like a dog in the nest of your blankets trying to find any last wisp of your scent, it falls open on a small gasp of shock, wet and lush, something that used to belong to him, his name sitting silent on the tip of your tongue as if he could see the very shape of it. There’s something strange happening in your eyes in the moment recognition meets cognizance, where memory meets present, and then they’re both like a scream, fracturing with horror, perhaps, shock, surely. Nothing he wants to see there in this moment. 

They shutter, go flat, deep and fathomless and that fear of his is back, his heart like a momentary sun come to life with your recognition goes dark and cold again, and you freeze still and thrumming with repressed energy, all the strength in the galaxy seemingly held within this slip of a girl he used to love, and then metamorphosing instantly into a supernova. As if all the energy surrounding the two of you is sucked into a vacuum only you wield, something like a momentary hovering of hollow silence before you’re exploding in movement, violence, the kind that salivates and hungers. 

You pull your saber back, a jagged shriek in your throat, and he realizes you’re as angry as he is, even more. When you bring the saber down against his vambraces again he feels the force of it, he feels the Force, ringing in his teeth. His molars, grinding down into nothing against each other, holding you at bay as you bring your blade down on him again and again and again. And in the very millisecond before he pulls it from his belt and bears the terrible, dark truth of it to you, he thinks that he shouldn’t, that he should just let you kill him. It’s your right after all. You’d owned him from that very first moment in that dark alcove on that nothing planet in the middle of a too large, too lonely galaxy. His life had been yours since then, and so it only fell to reason that it should be yours to end as well. 

But he does not. And when he engages the Darksaber, lets it meet the purple haze of your lightsaber, a momentary collision of two giants, the pause the two of you take to breathe each other in is like breathing in life again after two years of barren death. 

The sight of it sets you off worse than the sight of his mantle. Something affronted like how dare he wield your weapon? You spin, parry, spin, parry. Your blows ringing in his ears, sending his heart to beat in his throat, and most surprising of all, or perhaps not, there’s nothing restrained in the Force you strengthen your strikes with. You want to hurt him, and he can feel the energy of you thrumming through the bones of his arms, strengthening him further, strangely, rather than weakening him. And he thinks again, something is wrong. 

You’re expelling energy too quickly, and you send a burst of the Force forward, towards his chest, trying to push him back, away, but it’s weak, a tepid attempt at best. The Darksaber hums and spits in his grasp, heavy as lead, and he returns one hard blow, bringing the terrible thing up above his head and with the swing of his arms, an executioner set to kill this weak rebellion of yours, down to meet you in a cross of the two blades so that your faces are right up against each other. You pant mist into the air, fogging his vizor, and he feels his cock thicken.

You’re so close. And he is so predictable. 

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

He wants to demand you scream at him, say his name, curse him, anything. Let me hear your voice, he wants to beg, but you spin again, twirl to bring your saber in a slicing motion towards his throat, another screech of painful frustration. He blocks, shoves you back, takes in the lagging of your strength, the too fast gulps of breath, the tremble in the lines of your arms. He deals you another hard blow, harder than the first. He’d lost things along the way since you, yes, but he’d gained others. He was stronger now, older, perhaps, but with a harshness about him that granted a sort of advantage in the ways he maneuvered himself, fought his battles. Something he’d not possessed before he’d lost so much. 

You send another kick of the Force towards him, this one even weaker than the first, and he hears the low, pained whine you gurgle in your throat, sees the break in your expression. Pain. He shoves you back.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He spits, graveled and low through the modulator. The sound of him does something else to you. He watches a shiver and a jerk move through you, something jagged, particularly painful, and then you go sort of limp, holding yourself with a sort of wanness, your eyes seeming to lose all color and shape and depth in the instant the sound of his voice rings. He sees the strength in your fingers go limp around the hilt of your blade, and he knocks it from your grasp, sends it flying. When the dull thud of it extinguishing against the ground sounds, it seems to bring you to momentary wakefulness again so that you’re skipping backwards and away from him, pulling a blade from a fold in your tunic close to your breast, a tiny, silver thing. Inconsequential – no, beskar, the most important thing in the world. 

“What’s this?”

“For you.”

“Are you sharing your weapons with me now?”

“I’d share anything with you.”

“Another shiny thing to remind me of my shiny?” You’d laughed, but he’d seen the truth of sadness in your eyes. The reality that said, you’d not share everything, not that one last thing. And when he’d covered your eyes and lifted the lip of his helmet to kiss you soft and slow and sorry, his words had rung hollow and false and rebellious in his ears. 

You pull the little knife back, your other palm held out in front of you towards him, as if that single hand had the power to keep him at bay. The sight of it breaks him. He extinguishes the Darksaber, lets it fall to the ground to keep yours company because of course, of course that hand holds power. All the power in the whole galaxy, held in the small palm of an even smaller girl who’d take up all the space in the sky if only she saw in herself what he does. 

He takes in the tremble in your hand as you hold it up towards him, and Din feels, suddenly, so tired. 

You’re terrified. Alit with fear and power, something that almost glows with the force of your terror, the warp and weft of all life in the cosmos made visible, but there is a jaggedness to the manifestation of it. Something dark and serrated, all your hurts visible and plain for him to see. 

He pauses, terribly frightened, terribly sad, suddenly. What had been done to you? 

He’d been angry at you for so long, he is still angry. At times, he’d even feared he hated you. It was like some sort of betrayal you’d forced him into, a betrayal you’d wrought by your own hand, driving that love he’d felt to confused resentment colored in hurt. 

But there is something ridiculously, illogically frightened inside of you now as the two of you face each other once again. On the verge of tears or breaking, your fragmentation, obvious for everyone to see. He focuses on that small, trembling hand, and he’s entirely bested, and you smile, teeth flashing white, but limp and he knows it for the lie it is. 

-

“Oh, you again?” Your mocking laugh rings more false than any lie you’d ever told him. There is only the truth of tears in your voice. 

Your first words to him, an echo of a previous night. Terrible. Cowardly. You take a step back, another that he matches, and your tether, that dark red thread screams the song of finally. 

Finally, finally we’re together again.

You take him in, the long drape of his cloak, the frayed and worn edges. The old rusted vermillion of his armor, gone, replaced by something newer, stronger, better. The helmet, the helmet, the helmet, that dark, yawning pit of the transparisteel visor. 

Beskar and Creed and centuries of culture and religion and the Way. 

Your Mandalorian. 

An entire sun in the heart of a single man and enough love in yours to fill the entirety of the darkness in the sky for him.

“Maker, you’re extra shiny now.”

He answers with a frustrated hiss. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay off Corellia?” Said as if no time had passed at all, and he was still allowed to boss you around. He takes a step forward, and you flash a snarl at him, as menacing as you can muster with the state you’re currently in, tightening your grip on his little knife which tells more than you want him to know at this moment. 

“That was so long ago, and you always talk so much nonsense. You can’t really expect me to remember all of it, can you?” He growls again, another menacing foot forward. “Stay back,” you warn but take your own step forward too, slicing the blade through the air towards his neck. He blocks your arm, catching you by the bend of your elbow and shoves you back hard. Hard enough to send you into a clumsy stumble so that your back slams into the hard wall behind you, your head cracking against the stone. You’re left dizzy, disoriented, and there’s a particularly raw scrap of skin over your left shoulder that hadn’t been allowed to heal in weeks. Nausea bobs in your throat, floods your mouth, and he jerks at the sound of your skull meeting uncompromising stone, makes to reach for you, but then catches himself and freezes when you flinch away from him, going deathly still at the half animal groan of pain you let out. The helmet cocks slowly to the side, taking you in in that predatory way of his, all hunter. 

“What’s wrong with you?” His voice is so level and so cold and so frightening. 

The feeling of not knowing each other is suddenly so strong that you turn your face away from him sharply, sucking in quick panting breaths through your open mouth, tasting the putrid Corellian air, cold and slick against your tongue. This is wrong – this discomfort, this feeling of having been away from each other for so long that you’re once again strangers, that you can’t immediately recall the feel of his hands on you in tenderness, the smell of his hair, the taste of his come. But: liar, liar, you could never forget those things. 

You try and measure your voice, fail. “Nothing’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?” Slow breaths through your nose. Control yourself, please, please, get ahold of yourself. 

“Are you hurt?” He spits, all anger and threat of aggression now. 

“No.”

“Do you know how to do anything other than tell lies?”

“No,” You snap back. Truth finally, for what else are you to do? A girl who was never really so much a girl, but creature, creature, dark creature. Thalassian hissing and betrayal in the shape of a little Twi'lek sound and stumble through your broken mind. Molded into something worse by your own hands and weakness and fear. And you’re so angry at the fate of you, at the cards you’d been dealt. You want to curse and spit at him, you want these two years to go on forever, and you want him to take you into his arms and kiss you. 

You want him to never have to see you as you are now, for you to only live in his memory as he’d left you, well and his, and you want to break something. No— something is about to be broken here, but you can’t be sure what. You think it might be you, but you have no heart left to break, he took it, it was eaten, and too little mind remains for further shattering. 

The terrible voices that had lived inside your head your entire life, these past endless months, your own voice in that dark hole to the memory of: Master, I tried to make myself into what you wanted so many times and failed so many more times and can only seem to be, truly, what this man here before me demands of me, myself. You had rarely ever been yours, but Din, Din had always belonged only to you, from that first moment. Tucked away in the farthest and smallest recess of your mind, almost like a fracture in the dark, the memory of his strength, his honor, his loyalty, the great conviction of character and goodness every part of him was imbued with, he lived there, in that small pocket you’d managed to keep for yourself.

“You and that smart fucking mouth – you never know when to quit.”

You huff a saccharine laugh, your eyes filling with tears. You’re sure you must look unhinged, fracturing and hysterical all at once. “Smarter than you, that’s for sure.”

Both hands on his hips, he sighs then, long and frustrated, looking away from you with a shake of his head, and it makes you feel like the lowest piece of scum. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, listen to the jilt of his metallic encasings, the things that, second to your own stupidity, would always keep you away from each other, as he steps closer to you again. The ever present air of his concern hovers between the two of you as you press the balls of your hands hard into your eye sockets, willing your tears away. 

“Maker,” you groan. The will to fight leaves you, and your head, your head, it hurts. A piercing hot pain right through the center of your brain. You can hear the muffled sound of his voice saying your name, asking if you’re okay again, and you want to scoff and ask him in return how he could ever think you could ever be anything even close to okay after everything you’d done. But you focus on the blurry notes of him, that sliver of cracked light where he lives in your mind, the familiar sound of your name falling like salt from his mouth, like the phantom pain of an amputated limb, and let the fog clear slowly. 

When you open your eyes again, it’s nothing but clear reality: you, Din, all of your mistakes lying at your feet like two discarded sabers and dead hope. Two years of darkness is too long a time. You’d made such a terrible mistake, allowed such terrible things to be done to yourself. You want to run away from the sight of his anxious hovering, arms outstretched, poised to clutch and grab. You shy away, cowering into the wall, and you hear the sound of angry frustration he coughs out at the sight of the fear you can’t help but feel. 

But it’s your prize after all your sacrifice, can’t he see that? The only thing that remains.

All you have left now is the knowledge of how to be afraid. 

He appears to you, suddenly, as if he’d grown seven feet taller in two years. Brighter than any sun or moon in the galaxy, but also, exactly the same, and also, again, and at the same time, darker, colder, older. So heavily armored, like a wound of beskar looming above you in the night, outlined in pale, flickering silver, ready for war. He’s different, changed, unrecognizable. Something almost frightening, something that almost frightens you, as if he’d left the sun behind, ripped it out of the very sky. Finally, more droid than man, it seems. 

It makes you angry. 

Affronted, spluttering, you spit his own question back at him, “What happened to you?” Looking him up and down with all the contempt and disappointment you can muster.

He scoffs, planting his hands on tapered hips again, learning back on his heel. “What do you mean?”

“Look– Look at you. You were supposed to have greater care. You were supposed to be okay.” And you bear your teeth in the insinuation of a growl or a shriek. Completely nonsensical when he appears, for all intents and purposes, bigger and broader and stronger than he’d ever been before. “What happened to you?”

He takes you in, so still and so silent and so intimidating, and you’re about to cower and flinch once more before he says as simple as heartbreak, “You.” But of course. “You planted a rage inside of me. Do you understand what that is?”

How could you not? And so you tell him, “Yes,” and there are no surprises here. You should’ve been wiser, should’ve known that the two of you would meet like this again eventually. Angry and hurt and unrecognizable. That at the end of everything, all roads lead to Din. You had done something terrible, these were the consequences of your actions. 

“Where have you been?” He asks, but you look away, a quick shake of your head, not that question, any question but that one. He snarls, taking an aggressive step forward, and you press yourself into the wall at your back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Please–” and you won’t cry, you’ll kill yourself right here and now infront of him before you let these Maker damned tears fall, but he cannot touch you, “Please, don’t touch me.” If he does, you’ll lose. You know it. 

“Where have you been?” He asks again. “I searched for you. Everywhere I went, I searched for your face in crowds. So many things happened to me.” His voice breaks, “Terrible things, wonderful things, and at every step I wanted to share them with you, and you weren’t there for any of it.” You see the jerk and thrum of his body as he forces himself not to take you up into his grasp. “Where were you?”

In a hole in the ground, in the dark, in my nightmares. To tell him that you’d destroyed everything, that you’d let yourself fall into a trap as bad as the worst thing that’d ever been done to you by your own choice, by way of your own actions, that you’d suffered, oh, how you’d suffered, and that it’d all been such a mistake and that you’re sorry and terrible and small now – to tell him all that would be to lose him in an irreversible way. 

“Nowhere.”

“Fuck you,” he scoffs, turning to spin in a directionless circle, trying to walk his frustration with you off. And you want to fall to your knees and beg him to forgive you for things he knows naught about. My soul has been so fearful, so violent: forgive its brutality. 

A nod of your head and a small yes is all you can give him. The pain in your skull splinters and breaks and spreads like cracks in ice, and you try and swallow your wince and shudder but you hear his own pained groan of recognition. 

His voice gentles: “I’ve thought about you for two years. I’ve searched for you for two years, and this is how you meet me again? Cold and hostile – as if we were strangers, as if all that time together had never passed between us? I missed you,” he says, and you wish for your hole in the ground once again.

You dig your nails into the meat of your palms, break skin. “What were a few months of peace and happiness in the shadow of madness, of history?”

He’s quiet, for a moment, and you know the breaking is here now. “Were you?” He asks in a very small voice, like a child, unsure and fragile. “Happy? Did I make you happy?”

It hurts, the sound of his voice hurts, worse than the fire in your skull, worse than the bright white of torture, worse than being alive. “Yes, Din,” You look right into the darkness where you know his eyes are. Be brave now: “Of course you did.”

“I wasn’t sure. I– sometimes… after… you made me doubt.”

“I thought of you,” you say, and your voice sounds as if it’s going away from you, “When I dreamt, I dreamt only of you. You want to know where I was?” Your head is going to split in two, and there’s fire in your back, your shoulder and your spine and every inch of skin that encases you, as if you’re coming alive in flames suddenly. Awake and aware of all that had been done to you for the very first time. It hurts everywhere. “I was asleep, or I was in a dream.” You look up at the sky again, and there’s red everywhere, and the two of you should have stayed in that warm cave all that time ago, safe and together. Together in water. “I was tangled in red strings or memories, I don’t know. I’m sorry I left you.” The first thing you should have said. 

Your mind spins and spins in a million different directions, ricochets and slingshots back to him, always him, always Din, always, always. Such a terrible thing, you’d found in your captivity, to be held so by someone entirely unattainable. And yet, here he is. The very sun held inside the heart of the man standing before you, and it is so bright and so strong, and as you focus on it, there, in his mind or his soul, stitched into the very fabric that Din is made of, the only person you’ve ever loved in your whole life and also entirely a stranger now, there’s something or someone else– strong in the Force, stronger than you, even, perhaps. You’re confused for a second. Something unrecognizable, young and vulnerable and pure and yet with a certain type of innocent wisdom unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your eyes briefly focus one last time to take him in full, and the realization slices through your mind, your heart; shock, betrayal, grief for the thing you could never give him, would never have. 

“You have a son?”

And then nothing, the ground rising up faster than light, a last flash of silver beskar and the snapping of the last threads in your mind as you finally find a pool of dark unconsciousness that doesn’t swim with nightmares for the first time in years.

Chapter X

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[kryzobi-wan]

Live thoughts from Ahsoka episode 6:

Huyang said the thing!! I screamed!! "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" I don't care if it was cheesy I freakin loved it

Thinking about that joke going around about the galaxy far, far away being just our galaxy and Ezra and Thrawn just waiting around in a Denny's

Oh this is some ancient ancient stuff

This is insanely cool

Their golden ship is really cool looking

Wondering if Ezra is in prison too

Shin Hati's armor is rad

Baylon can talk about himself forever I'll gladly watch

Holy smokes there's the ship

Ahhhh shoot here we go

Old blue man

I love his voice

Wouldn't it be funny if he killed Ezra forever ago (not funny)

There go our Thrawn and Ezra are bffs in exile headcanons 😂

Rat alligator dog horse

I like when Sabine fights like a Mandalorian

I love seeing that galaxy map, after staring at one like it when writing fanfics for so long

I like the humor music with Sabine fighting with the rat dog alligator horse, feels very Star Wars

Another moment to be thankful for Kevin Kiner 🙏

I hope Ezra has a shack like Nick Jonas' character in Jumanji

WOAH rock turtle

It's silly little guy o'clock, time to join the ranks of Jar Jar Binks, Babu Frik, Ewoks, and others

It's so goofy and Star Wars, I approve

Still can't believe I'm hearing Ezra Bridger's name in live action

I wanna know how Baylon survived the Jedi Purge

Aww the baby turtle thing

THERE HE IS

THE BEARD

Is his hair blue at all? Am I misremembering his hair as blueish?

I can't believe I'm seeing Kanan Jarrus' padawan irl it's insane

Can't believe Zeb hasn't been in this season at all

Praying for more Kanan references

WHY are they calling them star whales instead of purrgils??

I already know some people are gonna be mad that this episode of the Ahsoka show barely had Ahsoka in it

[stenka-razin]

I finally watched Star Wars 9 (aka Star Wars 8) and Star Wars 11 (aka Star Wars 9) along with a rewatch of Star Wars 7 (aka Star Wars 7). They're all bad!

The Force Awakens - I feel like this got by because people assumed it would resolve and pay off and you know, be a movie. It didn't and unfortunately the failures of 8 and 9 directly affect 7 because it leaned so heavy on future installments. It basically balled out on a credit card and episode 9 was the bill. But despite that I do think it's the closest to telling a coherent story in its own right. It's a story called Star Wars 1977 aka A New Hope, but whatever. It's also weird in that it like, double dips. It mocks this series adherence to the past while whole heartedly leaning into that earnestly. At it's best it's like Canonized Spaceballs, at it's worst it's reheated leftovers. But yeah, as soon as they drop that cryptic vision and "a story for another time" crap I know this was gonna blow. It's the guy who made fucking LOST. When will people learn!?

The Last Jedi - Guys this is dumb. Dumb as hell. Dumber than most Star Wars. Even the good ideas it flirts with are rudimentary. But they also botch half the story. Like the entire plot about the escape from whatever could have been solved with a single five minute conversation, and there's really no consequences. Like Holdo looks like an idiot for not briefing her crew... Poe Finn n' Rose look like idiots for botching a mutiny and getting thousands killed. It's so dumb.

Luke kills kids now... guess it's genetic. Like I think there's a small seed of a good idea in here. That Luke, once an anomaly amongst the Jedi, who saw good in a man everyone else thought was irredeemable, is now stodgy and conservative, a natural process that often comes when people are in power for a long time. That's a good idea. But for the first story with the character in years (I don't give a fuck about some stupid book) and we immediately jump to, "I tried to kill a kid cuz his rancid vibes" is bad! Bad writing!

Rise of the Skywalker - Everyone basically went in know this was gonna suck right? Like it had to wrap up a bunch of crap that no one had any plans for. Then it also had to deal with the fact that the Last Jedi kind of dismantled all that crap for a bunch of other crap know one had any ideas for. Like I know JJ and Kennedy are portrayed as villains for cutting down Johnson's vision, but I call bullshit on him having any ideas for a third movie either.

And in spite of that, it introduces a bunch of other stupid crap, too. Yeah this is Episode 2 levels of bad. I totally checked out. I had no idea what anyone was trying to do beyond shoot people. Babu Frik and D-0 were delightful though. Give those two a movie. Oh and it seems like each of these leans heavily on one old guy to breath life into the movie. Anthony Daniels, you may have been the best part of this?

Oh yeah the cast, like in general. They're mostly good, but also like. They don't properly hang out together until Rise of Skyguy and I just find it so odd that the filmmakers decide, oh yeah, they all hate each other? Like even Finn/Poe who were all like Buddy-this Buddy-that, now they're total dicks to each other. I also love that they one up Jedi butchering a love triangle, by introducing like six* potential couplings and all of them fizzling out. Like that's bad but it's even more confusing that they introduce more to fumble in the final installment.

Anyway, in summation. It sucked, and anything good about the first entry was a time bomb destined to suck because no one knew what the hell they wanted to do with any of this. Except make money. They knew that and did. Star Wars sucksssss

[starwarsnonsense]

Listen on iTunes/Listen on Spotify

We begin this episode by announcing Rachael’s panel at Star Wars Celebration Europe! Rachael will be co-hosting a panel on the mythology of the sequel trilogy ('Powerful Light, Powerful Darkness: How the Sequels Expand the Mythology of Star Wars'), and the panel will be taking place on the Saturday of the convention. We hope Rachael sees some listeners there.

Next, we share our recommendations. Rachael recommends the following:

The Quiet Girl

Funny Woman (TV show)

Alien, dir. Ridley Scott

Extraordinary (TV show, Disney Plus/Hulu)

Kirsty recommends the following:

Poker Face

If Beale Street Could Talk

There’s Always Tomorrow (1956)

The Big Clock (1948)

Decision to Leave

Pillow Talk

At around 35 minutes in, we discuss our thoughts on various pieces of Star Wars news, including:

Set photos of Andor being filmed at the Barbican in London

Disney expected to reveal new Star Wars film at Star Wars Celebration London

Favreau speaks out on the decision to undo the ending of The Mandalorian season 2 (Empire magazine interview)

At around 50 minutes in, we share our thoughts on the season premiere of The Mandalorian: Chapter 17, The Apostate. Join us for a chat about adorable Grogu moments, the return of Babu Frik’s species, and our continued reservations over the show’s depiction of Mandalorian customs.

We then end the episode with a brief discussion of Matthew Stover’s Mace Windu-centric novel Shatterpoint, which we had our reservations about.

Many thanks to Christy Carew for the Scavenger's Hoard theme, and Nemling for our artwork.

(Apologies for the echo in parts of this recording - I've done my best to reduce this in the edit, but parts were too difficult to remove! I will address the echo during the recording process next time.)

[themattress]

Because I’m in a Star Wars mood lately, and a Rise of Skywalker-y one in particular since it endlessly fascinates me, I just keep coming up with new thoughts. And here’s another one: The Rise of Skywalker is actually the ONLY new Star Wars movie past the Original Trilogy to match the Original Trilogy’s style, and a lot of the backlash to it (in addition to other factors like nitpicking, scapegoating, and general overreactions and whining) is because without the nostalgia factor at play fans and critics just don’t take well to the OT style in new movies.

Now, what do I mean by “the Original Trilogy’s style”? I mean the roller coaster ride style of fast-paced action -> slowdown exposition -> fast-paced action -> slowdown exposition -> fast-paced action -> more fast-paced action -> fast-paced action that combines exposition, and so on and so forth. This is literally how all three of these movies operated; it was part of their roots in the old campy film serials of the 30s, 40s and 50s. The Indiana Jones movies, also developed by George Lucas, are the exact same way. They’re spectacle-driven popcorn movies first and foremost -  even the most sophisticated of them, The Empire Strikes Back.

Ironically, much of the flak the Prequel Trilogy caught was because they ventured way too far from this style, with The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones being primarily made up of exposition, and with the few action scenes they do have usually not being particularly good especially as the CGI grows more and more dated. (Revenge of the Sith is often looked upon with more fondness, since not only does it contain superior action that ironically holds up because so much of the film is done in CGI so it all blends together better but its expository scenes are actually interesting and rooted in character, emotion, and easy-to-follow intrigue.)

The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi may return to the Original Trilogy’s aesthetic style (and in the former’s case, the exact story structure of its first act), but they’re paced out more like modern films. TFA’s opening action sequence lasts approximately 6 minutes, then it spends around twice that length in slowdown mode for exposition on the setting and characters. The movie then spends the next 30-so minutes in action mode with a few quick expository beats sprinkled in, then the next 20-so in expository slowdown mode. We then have around 10 minutes of action, followed by around 10 minutes of expository slowdown, and then the last half-hour being primarily action before settling into an expository ending. This is much the way you expect modern blockbusters to be paced out. TLJ is much the same, with the main difference being that due to its longer runtime it can afford its action mode and expository slowdown mode periods last much longer than TFA’s (from the 31 min. mark to the 1:31 min. mark - a full hour - the only action sequences are the brief Fathier escape scene in Canto Bight and the even briefer skirmish between Rey and Luke. The following near-hour left in the movie makes up for it by being primarily action-based.)

The Rise of Skywalker, otoh, does things the more fluid, back-and-forth way like the OT did.

Action: Kylo Ren on Mustafar - Approx. 1 Minute Exposition: Palpatine on Exegol - Approx. 4 Minutes Action + Some Exposition: Lightspeed Skipping - Approx. 3 1/2 Minutes Action + Some Exposition: Rey's Training - Approx. 5 Minutes Exposition: Resistance Base - Approx. 4 1/2 Minutes Exposition: First Order - Approx. 2 Minutes Exposition + Some Action: Pasaana - Approx. 6 Minutes Action: Canyon Chase - Approx. 3 Minutes Exposition: Underground - Approx. 5 Minutes Action: Vs. Kylo Ren (1) - Approx. 5 1/2 Minutes Exposition: Oochi's Ship - Approx. 4 1/2 Minutes Action + Some Exposition: Spice Runners - Approx. 2 1/2 Minutes Exposition: Babu Frik's Shop - Approx. 7 1/2 Minutes Action: Star Destroyer - Approx. 3 Minutes Action + Some Exposition: Vs. Kylo Ren (2) - Approx. 7 1/2 Minutes Exposition: Ocean Moon - Approx. 6 Minues Action + Some Exposition: Second Death Star Ruins - Approx. 5 1/2 Minutes Action: Vs. Kylo Ren (3) - Approx. 6 Minutes Exposition: Mourning - Approx. 3 1/2 Minutes Action: Kijimi Destroyed - Approx. 1 1/2 Minutes Exposition: Before the Final Battle - Approx. 10 Minutes Action: The Final Battle - Approx. 30 Minutes Ending: Rey Skywalker - Approx. 3 Minutes

Now, could some of these gone on longer, or maybe arranged somewhat differently? Of course, and I wish they did! It doesn’t change the fact that this sort of back-and-forth is the old-school Star Wars style of pacing. J.J Abrams and Chris Terrio knew what they were doing; by their own admission they wanted to end the Skywalker Saga in the same style it began in even if that didn’t quite fit the prior two installments of the Sequel Trilogy. It was a risk that certainly didn’t pay off with a significant amount of movie critics, but I agree it was the right choice to make. The original vision behind Star Wars was honored, in all its good and its bad.

[happytroopers]

Mando S 3 Ep 1 shit post!

back and hornier than ever !! Me trying to control my reactions as I watch the sexiest motherfucker in the galaxy do silly little tasks !! Spoilers below. duh.

1.) me watching Mando before I've gotten past episode two of Bad Batch?? yeah I'm also disappointed

2.) tiny helmet??

3.) YOUNG DIN????

4.) him needs a hair cut

5.) issa gator!! Gator needs his gat- punk ass bitch!! love that this just takes place in fucking Florida

6.) NOT THE GO PRO HELMET SHOT

7.) not baby din I was so very wrong

8.) not the entraiLS

9.) DIN!! and son!!!!

10.) he's so,,, shiny. Mirrorball type beat. I wanna string him up on the ceiling fan and put a flash light on him.

11.) but it's pretty!

12) ok getting strong baptizing vibes... maybe its my southern baptist upbringing

13.) THEY NAP!!! cute

14.) squiiids

15.) hate to see him go love to watch him walk away

16.) gentrification??? on my Navarro??? more likely than you think

17.) not the droid memorial ;'(

18.) why is he swaggy now

19.) love him spinning he's gonna get sick tho !!

20.) "if you say so." love that Disney knows that we all hate that name

21.) snamcks!!

22.) hondo!!! please!!! no hondo ;////

23.) love when he crosses himself like that.

24.)quick draw McGraw my love

25.) love that he's so picky about droids

26.) Din fiddle with my insides like that

27.) throw the boy!!!

28.) babu frik???? we're really trying anything to make the sequel trilogy relevant huh.

29.) wow already with the side quests

30.) ME EVERYTIME I SEE A CAT

31.) AVAST!!! AVAST!! A V A S T !!!

32.) GROGU USING DINS AMMO STRAP AS A SEATBELT

33.) tbh I love the new ship but I miss the razor crest.

34.) Disney saw too many cohabitating fics and said they're too horny! destroy the one bed trope! fuck it! no beds!

35.) swamp thing????

36.) thinking obitine thoughts

37.) lemme get a good look at those banners

38.) oh its this bitch

39.) Jesus its really tent revival this season

40.) wow we set up like four side quests in one episode that's got to be a record

[skylarstark4826]

The moon lit up the sky, lending ethereal light to the luscious green forest of Ajan Kloss.  Poe reclined lazily against the ship, studying his fingernails with disinterest as he waited.  Finally, after what felt like hours, he heard the lightest snap of a branch and he raised his eyes in time to see Zorii reach for her blaster. 

Her stance eased and she slowly lowered her hand from the blaster as she registered the unknown intruder.  "What do you want, Poe?" she asked tiredly. 

"I never thanked you."  He stated matter-of-factly.

She cocked her head at him in confusion.  "For which part?"

"All of it."  Shoving off the side of her ship, he took a step toward her.  "The medallion, helping us find Babu Frik on Kijimi, coming to fight at Exegol."  Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her hand.  "I owe you a huge debt of gratitude." 

Zorii let out an amused snicker.  "Poe Dameron saying 'thank you.'  Not something I ever expected to hear."  Clicking the button on her helmet, she uncovered her eyes.  She had always secretly adored the way his breath caught anytime he saw them, and it had caused her to lower her guard around him.  There weren't many people in their crew who had even seen that much of her.  As their leader, she felt the mystery and anonymity was useful. 

There were rumors about her, she knew.  People whispered that she must be hideous or disfigured to hide behind her mask.  In reality, however, the opposite was true.  Zorii had spent too much time in her early years not being taken seriously because other smugglers only saw her as a pretty face and not a force to be reckoned with.  After a huge missed opportunity, she'd put on the helmet and vowed not to remove it in front of anyone until her looks had faded with time.   

Yet, from the moment she had pulled Poe from the wreckage of his ship's crash all those years ago, it had felt as though he could see right through the mask.  Perhaps it was for that reason that it was easier to let him see a part of herself which she normally kept hidden.

"Don't get used to the favors, Spice Runner."  She jested.  Her smile was evident to Poe by the twinkle that lit up her eyes.

Running a hand through his dark, wavy hair, Poe drew a ragged breath.  "Zorii, when I heard that Kijimi was destroyed, I, I –" With another breath, he turned away, pacing before her with a tortured look twisting his features. "I couldn't bear the thought that it was somehow my fault, that you might be – that you might not have –"

She stilled his movement with a hand on his forearm.  The contact zinged through both of them like an electric current and he gulped visibly as he looked at her hand on his arm.  He'd always been forthcoming about wanting more with her, but she'd always shot him down. It wasn't that she didn't want it.  She had found him attractive from the time they were both awkward adolescents.  It just wasn't appropriate for the gang leader to fraternize with one of the crew. 

But he wasn't part of the crew anymore.  In that moment, she didn't even care that he had abandoned them, causing damage to their operations that they were still recovering from.  Her heartbeat kicked up a few paces.  Doing something she hadn't done in the presence of another person for over a decade, she reached up and released the latch on her helmet.   She shivered as the cool night breeze caressed the back of her neck.  Pulling the helmet off, she shook out her long hair, which tumbled in strawberry blonde waves down her back to her waist.

Another gulp from Poe.

Cautiously, she lifted her head to meet his gaze.   Disbelief covered his features as he glanced from the helmet in her hand to her exposed face.  His jaw hung open and his eyes gleamed with wonder. 

This time it was Zorii who closed the gap between them.  Raising a hand to his cheek she whispered gently, "It wasn't your fault, Poe.  I knew the risks.  Giving you that medallion was the right thing to do."  She smiled, and lightness slipped into her tone, "Plus, I always have a backup plan."  Angling her face up, she rose on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.  Instead of pulling back immediately, she lingered there, her breath tickling his jaw.

Not missing a beat, his hand captured the back of her neck and his lips crashed down over hers.  The passion of every time he'd ever asked to kiss her exploded through the intensity of the moment.  Tracing her lips with his tongue, he hungrily demanded entrance to her mouth, which she granted willingly, matching his fervor.  The moan that escaped, unbidden, from her throat only served as encouragement for him.  He drew her flush to his body, kneading her ass with his strong fingers.

Dropping her helmet to the ground, forgotten, she twined her fingers into his hair, just as she'd longed to do so many times before.  It had been fortunate her face had been covered in the past so he couldn't see the lust in her eyes every time he had run a hand through those beautiful, thick tresses. 

"My God, Zorii, you are more stunning than I even imagined."  Poe said between kisses.  It came as a surprise to her that that sentiment, which had driven her to don the mask all those years ago, made her feel more appreciated than she had felt in a long time when it fell from Poe's lips.  

Smiling into his kiss in response, she pushed him backwards towards the cover of the trees.  As soon as the shadows had enveloped them, she yanked his shirt free from his waist band and set to work on the buttons.  Shoving the fabric off his shoulders, she marveled at the way his breath hitched as she ran her hands down his muscular chest and the defined ridges of his abdomen.  His desire for her was evident from the bulge straining at the front of his trousers.  She purposefully rubbed herself against him, eliciting a groan of pleasure, as she came in close to press a few hot kisses down his jaw and neck.

Tracing the edge of his collar, she wound her way around him to his back and pulled the shirt off his broad shoulders.  Another groan fell from his lips as she dragged her tongue up his spine before shifting to stand before him once more.

Running his hands up her arms, he gripped her shoulder and spun her around, brushing her hair over her shoulder and grasping the zipper of her body suit. Slowly, so slowly, he dragged the fabric open.  She trembled as he let his fingers trail along the velvety soft flesh of her back, teasing her as she'd teased him a moment before.  He pushed the fabric down her arms and his name fell from her lips as his hard, warm chest pressed against her back.

As the cool air touched her nipples, they hardened instantly.  She could feel Poe staring at them over her shoulder and the bulge pressing against her ass became more defined.  Running his hands across her waist, he caressed her breasts, marveling at the way they filled his large hands perfectly. 

"Fuck," she moaned, as he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefingers.  She leaned her head back against his shoulder and her breath came in little pants as he continued to fondle her with an expert touch.  Her core throbbed and wetness pooled between her legs.

Reaching her hand behind her, she palmed his erection through his trousers and his breathing became harsher, more ragged.  He lowered his mouth to the sensitive skin at her neck, sucking, kissing, and licking her until she knew she would be marked by his attentions.   She was already at the edge and when he pinched and tugged on her nipples, she gasped his name, tumbling into her orgasm. 

His lips pulled into a smug smile on her neck and his hands roamed down her stomach to the waistline of her suit.  Hooking his thumbs into the fabric, he pushed it down her legs, moving to her front to pull off her boots so he could drag the cloth all the way off.   She was completely exposed before him and it felt so right. 

"Take off your trousers," she demanded.  As he stepped back to comply, she brought her hand to her core and touched herself.  His movement froze as he watched her hand begin to rub circles over her clit, and hunger covered his features. 

"Holy shit." He moaned as he watched her pleasure herself.

"Trousers." She repeated with a gasp as she brought herself back to the brink.  He didn't waste any time kicking his boots off and baring himself completely to her.  His cock was hard, and he began to work himself as he watched her.  The sight of him stroking himself caused Zorii to explode into another orgasm and her knees began to buckle.  Not attempting to keep herself upright, she sank onto the soft green grass and licked her lips, beckoning Poe forward with a seductive curl of her finger.  As soon as he was before her, she took him into her mouth.  His head fell back as her lips sank around his shaft.  Thrusting slightly, he fucked her mouth and she worked to relax her throat to take him in as far as she could.

He wanted her – had wanted her for so long – but when he came, he wanted to hear her screaming his name and coming with him.  Grabbing her gently by the hair, he pulled her away from him.  He nearly lost it when her lips sucked off the end of him with a loud pop.  Sinking to the ground with her, he coaxed her onto her back with a hand on her shoulder.  She spread her legs wide in invitation as she complied easily with his demand, needing him inside of her as much as he did.

He plunged himself into her wet core, and they both groaned their ecstasy.  "Poe." She rasped, pulling his lips down to hers.  He plundered her mouth as he began to drive into her.   "Fuck, I've never felt anything better than this - than you inside of me."  Her words game out on breathy gasps as she clung to his shoulders.  Spurred on by her words, he wrapped his arms under her knees, bending them up so he could pound into her even deeper. 

Sweat coated their bodies as they thrust into each other.  Zorii clutched at his shoulders as another orgasm rocked through her and she clenched around him as his thrusts became erratic and more forceful. 

A moment later, he followed her over the edge.  "Zorii." He moaned, as he spent himself inside of her.  Collapsing on top of her, he burrowed his face into her neck and she wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers through his hair.

After several minutes, he finally withdrew from her and rolled onto his side next to her.  Propping his head up on his hand, he looked down at her with a satisfied grin.  "So.  Now what?" he said, his words holding much greater depth than their jovial tone implied.

Zorii placed a hand on his cheek tenderly, "I have no idea." She giggled.  The sound was foreign to her.  She'd spent so long building a tough persona that she realized in that moment that her lifestyle had pushed out joy, and enjoyment.  "What do you think, Spice Runner?" She jested lightly.

Poe frowned dramatically, "Hey.  That's General Spice Runner to you."  He sighed, and his face grew serious.  "You could stay.  There is so much to do now in the aftermath of the Final Order.  I could use you by my side." He brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead and ran his fingers down her arm in a featherlight caress. 

"Don't you already have a co-General?" Zorii raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, he's not as pretty as you.  Or as badass." Poe said with a laugh.  "But never tell him I said that!"

She sighed as their laughter died down.  "Poe, I have a job to do already."

He brought his hand to the side of her face to keep her gaze on him, and he said gently, "Zorii, Kijimi is gone.  How many of the crew are left?  Is that really what you want to do with the rest of your life?"  She cast her eyes down, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze.  "I'm serious.  I want you to stay.  You could do so much with us here."

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I suppose you are right.  Most of the crew perished when Kijimi was destroyed."  She looked back into his fervent gaze.  "Alright, General Spice Runner, let's do this." 

"Really?" he asked, disbelieving.  She nodded, and a grin spread across his face.  "Yes!" He exclaimed exuberantly.  "You will not regret this!"

She leaned forward to plant a heated kiss on his lips, and muttered, "I am SO going to regret this."

Exposed

[afterthesequels]

LOVE AT ANY AGE!

We discuss two (of many) love stories that will be featured in our fan film trilogy, aside from Ben and Rey's love story! Wedge Antilles was a fan favorite from the original trilogy... an ace pilot devoted to the cause of the Rebel Alliance. A dear friend of Leia, Han, and Luke, he served as a "mirror" for those three legacy characters to look at themselves with. Well, in the canon novel "Aftermath" --- which is a trilogy of books written by Charles Soule --- Wedge takes center stage and his character is developed even further and given a deep rich story to tell that involves another ace pilot and Rebel Alliance officer, Norra Wexley.

Norra had a family of her own, long before her interest in Wedge grew into a romantic liaison, that produced a son named Temmin "Snap" Wexley. When her husband was taken as a prisoner, she decided she couldn't just leave it up authorities to find him, she took matter into her own hands. Leaving a young Temmin with his sister and her sister's wife on her home planet of Akiva.

Along the way, Brentin Wexley unfortunately dies, and through the years Wedge and Norra grow closer and their relationship changes. And we see them twenty years after those events in the timeline of our post-sequel films. They are the "old guard" as Wedge's actor in our films, Charles Wilson, states and they were both incredibly close to Han and Leia. They represent them in a world where they cannot really be there in the way they want to be.

On the other side of the house, we follow the story of the canon book, "Poe Dameron: Free Fall" to discover that his teenage love is a torch that he's carried for decades. And when we see him in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker say, "I had a little thing in Kijimi!" --- he means her not just the "adventures" of being a Spice Runner. The young teenage girl that stole his heart, and broke it when in his mind she left him, is the one that greets him with a blaster to his head at Monk's Gate when he lands on that planet.

From Zorii's point of view, Poe left her. Zorii was born as the sole heir to this underground "empire" that her mother Zeva Bliss had built and ran for as long as she had been alive. Zorii had no choice of her own in the matter; she was instantly a target for her mother's rivals and enemies, and she was also instantly appointed to inherit a life she didn't really want. But... it was all she knew. So when Poe runs into her, everything about her life comes into question.

Our Zorii, actress Selene Hsin, was not able to make this taping but we did have actor Tony Rescigno, who plays Poe for our films, talks about the mysteries between these two characters and how they find themselves at very different points in their lives.

Zorii has lost her entire planet, 75-80% of the people on her team were blown up by Palpatine's General Enric Pryde. She has no home, no business, but still shows up for Poe with the rest of the Citizen's Fleet, along with her sidekick Babu Frik. We love that Anzellan!

And Poe, he's lost so much of his colleagues, one of his best friends in Temmin Wexley, his mother-figure in Leia, and he inherits the "Resistance" but its in shambles and there are so many refugees in need of assistance from the planets of Kijimi and the 5 planets that were destroyed in the Hosnian Cataclysm. And he's starting without any of the funding that Leia had secured with her many connections.

And we wanted to explore that story, and how these characters individually deal with their own trauma and hardships and then find each other again.

We hope you guys really enjoy these expanded stories that we are looking to tell --- and we do realize not everyone may necessary like the pairings, but again we are trying to follow canon as much as possible and it is a fan fiction... many of these exist and we celebrate them ALL and hope you give ours a chance too! As always, don't forget to SUBSCRIBE to our YouTube Channel!

[farfartothewestofeverywhere]

mando thoughts:

i forgot how short Mandalorian episodes are

well that's a hell of an entrance

ok so we're just hopping around saying hi to everyone

this is like...almost everything that was in the trailers. so we're in for almost all completely new footage??

should've been a two-episode premiere

omg Grogu grabbing not!Babu Frik

i feel like they need to realize Grogu is in fact growing up a bit and not 100% a cute machine. hopefully soon. (they being Jon and Dave)

stuff on...let's call it New Mandalore was cool as fuck. love seeing Mandalorians get thrown around and beat up.

idk why he needed to visit the Armorer again didn't they already have this conversation?

he really needed to stop at Navarro for a dead droid? dude. he just likes putting off what he's got to do to travel halfway across the galaxy every other day.

OMG PURRGIL. that was really cool.

fighting the pirates in the astroid field was also very cool.

love Bo's castle. LOVE the loungey throne.

overall mixed episode. cool as fuck stuff mixed in with some...why are we doing this? i think shit's going to ramp up after this errand-running episode. is he going straight to Mandalore or looking for a fucking droid part? can dead people/droids just not stay dead?

unfortunately Ludwig not being the main composer is a little too apparent. I'm not into it. i get if he wanted to move on but the show feels less important without a prestige composer. idk.

looking forward to next week. i missed my boys.

edit: omg almost forgot. Karga is so fucking extra. DROIDS HOLDING HIS CAPE? High Magistrate lmao

and IG...THEY MADE A FUCKING STATUE FROM HIS CORPSE???

also, don't trust pirates. except Hondo. but not even him, really. is he ever appearing?? how old is he now? can't imagine him with that Pirate King but you never know.

I miss Ezra.

[thirst-order-confessions-renewed]

I sooooooo totally ship DJ with Bala-Tik. DJ has a huge dick and Bala's a "size fiend" and the cute hungry little Guavian boy sooooo wants that long, fat, meaty rod deep in his cute little Space-Scot-tush!

syddygurl said: Bala-Tik is a sadomasochist who love being both “Top” & “Bottom”. He loves getting big brawnier men to overpower him sexually and make him their Uke!

syddygurl said: Bala-Tik’s cute little boy-tush is self-lubricating. Bala-Tik is also in a weird “Erastes/Eromenos”-type relationship with his superior, the head of his Guavian Squad (there’s four Gangs in a Squad), Garn-Tir (an OC of mine, I have a rather involved headcanon on B.T. and the Guavians).

–

Okay I really appreciate you sending in these asks but I just have to say that when I read these I continually read “Bala-Tik” as “Babu Frik” and I was like, who the fuck is sending in so much Babu Frik thirst oh my fucking god

[sanziene]

I just want y’all to know that this is Moaning Myrtle 

[sxdere]

ibabufrik replied to your post: SPENCER REID IS BABY !!!!!!!! @eidetic187

iI thought that was babu ��

....... there is space in my heart for more babeys.

[geo-winchester]

DEAR BROTHER PART 16

Summary: after they were suck from the sand Yn and her friends found something they were looking for.

A/N: hey everyone! So it’s finally here the next chapter of Dear brother, im not going to write for you’ll be back until I finish this one, I want to complete this story, I hope you like it and let me know if you want to be tag in this story!

DEAR BROTHER MASTERLIST

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Poe try to make his way through the city, he knew how important was to found Babu but every time he turn to an alley he found a bunch of stormtroopers, he saw how a few citizens hide in their houses, he turn around and made his way back to his friends. He curse, he thought this was going to be a lot easier than this but the amount of stormtrooper make this more difficult than he thought it would be. He knew where they need to go, Finn and Rey look at him expecting his orders.

-They’re everywhere- Poe said, the sound of a woman begging distract them for a moment -all right I know what we should do.

-So do I- Threepio said - we should leave.

-No, Threepio, we’re going to stay- Poe said -Now follow me.

Poe lead them through the alleys, every now and then they stop to check if no one was following them or if there was a stormtrooper on the sight, when they were clear the keep walking.

-all right- Poe said -Let’s head down this way…- the sound of a gun making stop, everyone look at Poe.

-I heard you were spotted at monk’s Gate- a woman said -I thought that you wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back here.

-Well you be surprise.

-Who’s this?- Rey asked.

-Guys this is Zorii- Poe said -Zorii this is Rey and Finn.

-I can pull this trigger right now- she said.

-Can we just uh… talk about this?- Poe said finally looking at her.

-I prefer to see your brain in the snow…

-So… you’re still mad?- he asked -Please we can used your help, we need to crack this droid’s head open and fast…

-Excuse me!- Threepio said.

-We need to found Babu…

-You know he only work for the crew…

-Crew? What crew?

-Oh that’s funny, you dear friend here never mention his old job? He was a spice runner…

-You were a spice runner?- Finn ask.

-You were a stormtrooper- Poe said, he rolled his eyes when Rey ask the same question -You were a scavenger, we can do this all night…

-But you don’t have all night- Zorii said -I’m still trying to get out of the hole that you put me through when you left- she stop in front of Rey -You, the first order is looking you, I bet they paid a good price on you- she look at her crew as she scream -Djak ‘kankah!

-No, No Djak ‘kankah- Poe said but Rey was faster and hit Zorii taking her dow some of the crew approach to fight her but Rey was quick and hit them too, Zorii point her with her blaster but Rey take her lightsaber.

-Not that you care but I think your ok- she said.

-I care- Rey said as she help her get up -please we really use your help.

When Yn finally woke up, she didn’t expect to be in a room, chewie was beside her, he was handcuffed just like she was, her eyes landed on a figure in the dark, Kylo was standing in front of them, he was making sure she was fine.

-Hello sister- she couldn’t speak -do you really think I’ll let you talk, I know you been training, I can feel it.

-Come on Ben- she said projecting her -he’s playing with you, just like he did to our grandfather.

-I know that’s why I’m going to kill him- he said, he look like if he want to do something else -where’s the Rey?

-I’m not going to tell you.

-Why? because your boyfriend is with her?- she didn’t say anything -you’re going to tell us, one way or another.

They took them a little longer than they expect it but finally they get in to the tavern where Babbu was. After they connect 3PO to the computer Babbu start to working on 3PO as Rey and Finn look at him, the droid keep talking about how bad idea was.

-Babu Frik?- Rey ask -Can you help us?- Babu answer her in a language she or Finn couldn’t understand -Zorii? Is this going to work?

-He says he’s found something- she said after she ask Babu something -something in your droid’s forbidden memory bank, words translated from the sith -she turn to Poe -Who are you hanging out with that speaks sith?

-I’m sorry have you meet my girlfriend?- Poe asked but then he turn to the window when she remember what happened, he hide his pain and get close to the droid -can you make him translate it?

-Yes- she said translating babu’s word -but it will cause a complete…

-A complete memory wipe- 3PO finish the sentence.

-wait, we make him translate he won’t remember anything?

-Droid, memory go blank- babu said -Blank blank.

-There must be some other way- 3PO said.

-Doesn’t R2 back up your memory?- Finn asked.

-Oh please?- 3PO said -R2’s storage units are famously unreliable.

-You know the odds better than any of us- 3PO look at Rey -Do we have any other choice?- 3PO took his time to answer.

-If this mission fails- he said -I was all for nothing, all we’ve done all this time… master Solo, master Yn…- Poe look down for a second, then he notice that the robot was looking at them.

-What are you doing there, 3PO?

-I’m taking one last look, sir, at my friends- everyone smile at him, but the moment were broken when a light came through the window.

-Night raids are gonna start soon, I’ll keep lookout.

-I’m coming with you- Poe’s said.

-You still don’t trust me, huh?

-Did you ever trust me?- Poe asked her.

-No.

-Then there you go- he said as he follow her through the stairs, they sit in the roof, they keep looking at the town, Poe couldn’t recognized the city anymore -How long’s it been like this?

-First order took most of the kids a long time ago, can’t stand the cries anymore- she said, Poe nod at her -So where’s the girl who make you joins the resistance and leave us?- she asked -I saw the look on your eyes when your droid said her name.

-She… um… she was catch by the first order, the transporter where she was…explote.

-I’m sorry.

-It’s just that… I’m mad, she told me that she’ll be careful- he said -she suppose to be alive, to survive this- he look away.

-It’s ok that your mad- they stood quiet for a moment -I’ve save up enough to get out of here, I’m going to the colonies.

-How? All those hyperlanes are blocked- Poe asked, she show him the captain’s medallion, he look at her surprise -I’ve never seem one.

-Free passage through any blockade, landing privileges any vessel- she let him see his eyes, he look at him a little surprise and amaze -we used to made a pretty good team before so wanna come with me? We could start over together…-he look at her for a second before he sighed.

-I can’t walk out of this war… not until it’s over- he said -but maybe it is- he said -we sent out a call for help at Crait… nobody came, Ren is getting stronger and now everyone’s so afraid, they’ve given up- he said and scoff -But maybe they’re right, everyone has lost because of this war, I lost everything…

-Hey- Zorii said -they win by making you think you’re alone, remember that there’s more of us- he smile at her, both of them got distracted by a destroyer, they run downstairs and inform the others.

-We gotta go now- Poe said -did we get it? Babu?

-Yep- babu said -droid is ready.

-The emperor’s wayfinder -3PO start to said -is in the imperial vault at delta 3-6 transient 9-3-6. Bearing 3-2, on the moon in the Endor system from the southern shore, only this blade tells -3PO powers down.

-The Endor system- Finn said -where the last war ended?- they heard something rumble, Rey made her way to the stairs and look at the sky,

-Is Ren destroyer.

-He’s here?- Poe asked -we need to go- but Rey didn’t listen she was trying to process something.

-Chewie… Yn…- Poe look at her at the name of her girlfriend.

-What about them?

-They’re in the ship… they’re alive, I can feel them.

-Are you sure?- Poe said -You can feel Yn? Is she ok?

-I just know they’re in there, they must’ve been on a different transport- Rey said.

-We gotta go and help them- Poe said.

-That’s risky- Zorii said.

-I don’t care, if Yn is in there I need to go, I can’t let her die in there- he said, suddenly 3PO wake up.

-might I introduce myself, I am C3-PO, human-cyborg relations, and you are?

-Ok there’s a chance that she’ll be mad about that- Poe said, and they made their way to the ship.

-Poe- Zorii said and show him the medallion -might get you on a captain ship.

-I can’t take it.

-Take it- she said -this can help you to save her.

-Come with us- he said.

-Poe that’s not my mission, but when you need me, I’ll be there- she said -now Go- he get close to the group.

-Let’s go guys- he said -let’s go save my girlfriend and Chewie.

-That’s cheesy- Finn said.

Xxxxxx

Tag list: @thescarletknight2014 @chloe-skywalker @reading--mermaid @ahookedheroespureheart @itspdameronthings

[lamamasjamas]

Potential spoilers of the teaser trailer for Mando s3!!!

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More Babu Frik content!!! My favorite little gremli. Also, the way Din is probably passed out or sleeping in that one scene. I cackled.

They've held this teaser trailer hostage for far too long. What is stopping them from releasing the official one to the internet? Just like Obi-Wan fr fr.

Even the blurry ass video made me almost cream my pants. My vigor is renewed, and I'm riled up.

[aimmyarrowshigh]

omg that new ask game sounds fun!! how about detective au + fake married au + damerey?

13. Detective AU + 49. Fake Married AU

Poe Dameron is an NRDF officer who's moved up the ranks from cadet to Commander, but his heart is in the cockpit, not on the paperwork. He never flies anymore (not after losing his partner, Muran). He's always chasing leads through the holonet, trying to track spice gangs to their sources, rather than making daring busts on a wing and a prayer in an X-wing the way his mother did. And it's fine! Really! Poe is fine. He has a therapy droid named BB-8, he comms his on Centaxdays, and he has plenty of Yavinese food in the freezer. His life isn't empty. It's fine. He's fine.

Then one of his contacts, Babu Frik, comes through with information about the heads of the Guavian Death Gang's latest source labs. They're manufacturing on Jakku, a backwater planet a thousand parsecs from the center of the Galaxy. Nothing good comes out of Jakku. Nothing bad comes out of Jakku. Just... nothing comes out of Jakku.

Except for Rey Niima, a fast-rising NRDF officer who beat all of the odds in the universe and got off Jakku without seeing the inside of a slaver's freighter to do it, made it to the Core, and hates spicers more than just about anybody. She watched too many of her fellow orphans and vulnerable people out on the dunes become addicts, and then become dead, not to hate the spice trade.

The NRDF CO, Leia Organa, decides to team up Poe with Rey because Poe knows the job and Rey knows the lay of the land on-planet. She can get them into places Poe would never be able to go on his own. They'll pose as a married couple because REASONS that Leia knows in her heart of hearts, and they'll work as scrappers so that they interact with all different echelons of people on Jakku.

ENTER matchmaker therapy droid BB-8, probably a meddling Babu Frik, hopeless romantic Leia Organa, NRDF undercover legend Luke Skywalker who went down into the spice mines of Ahch-To and never came out (so they say), and Agents Han Solo & Chewbacca, who take a shine to Rey as soon as they meet her.

Yadda yadda, Kyle Ron is a Space Meth Cooker and blows up in his own Space Meth lab.

Ask me to mash up two common fic tropes!