#anzati

[auditect]

I just found out something pretty interesting - did you know that Volfe Karkko is part of the Disney Canon?

Well, at least his design is. There is a disney sourcebook that made the rather bizarre choice to include in its article of the species an image of Volfe Karkko from Star Wars: Darkness Part 3, a comic that is no longer officically concidered canon as of the 2014 Disney buyout. Keep in mind that an Anzati character has also appeared in a Star Wars: Rebels comic by Disney, which would have made more sense to include as a visual reference without raising questions regarding canonicity.

While this of course dosen't mean that everything we know about his story is part of the Disney canon, it does at least confirm that a character who looks identical to Volfe Karkko who may or may not have been him exists in the Disney Canon.

[chephalopods]

Silly anzat oc

[jewishcissiekj]

Making a young Aurra design and losing my mind in the process

[kcrabb88]

QuinObi Week starts in less than a month, and I've got 4 of my 5 fics drafted and am very pleased with how my day 4 fic turned out! Featuring Quin having a super extreme psychometric reaction during a wartime mission that's related to his terrible aunt who had his parents killed, and Obi-Wan helping him through love, care, and some tender kink.

Twelve standard hours later as he walks down the hallway toward his quarters, Obi-Wan senses a familiar presence. That hearth-fire he knows so well.  

The door slides open, and he finds Quinlan Vos curled up on his sofa with Obi-Wan's own sweater, battered and dark blue, draped over him. Eyes open. Staring. Breaths coming fast. The Force crackles around him like static electricity. Wrong wrong wrong it says. Their bond hurts. It bleeds slow like someone has sliced into a vein and left it dripping.  

It’s Obi-Wan's job to stem the flow.  

So, he locks the door, drops his bag, and without removing his boots, stopping for water, or any of the things he might normally do, he strides over to the sofa and gets down on one knee. He doesn’t touch Quin. Not yet. He merely puts his hand on the cushion where Quin can catch it.  

“Obi-Wan?” Quin asks. He doesn’t break his stare.  

“It’s me, dearest,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “I’m here.”  

Quin flinches like Obi-Wan's voice is too good a thing to hear. Too kind. Finally, he blinks. Those amber-brown eyes, when they meet Obi-Wan's own, don’t shine. Dead. Dull. Terrified. Those are the words Obi-Wan would use to describe them.  

“Touch,” Quin rasps. “Please.”  

Obi-Wan takes Quin’s closest hand in his own. He runs his thumb over Quin’s knuckles and notices, with a pang, the half-moon imprints pressed into his palm. Obi-Wan's other hand rests on Quin’s head. He hasn’t showered—also not like him. There’s a smear of dirt on his cheek, and his locs are oily.  

“She killed them,” Quin says, and he stares out past Obi-Wan again like he’s looking at something only he can see. “My aunt. She set it up.” 

His parents, Obi-Wan can only assume, but this news makes his bones rattle from the shock of it. Anzati murdered Quin’s parents, and it was always assumed that what his aunt, Tinte Vos, did later—forcing him to relive the brutal deaths in order to mold him into darkness and the heir she wanted—was taking advantage of a horrific situation.  

Quinlan seems to be implying that she set up the deaths in the first place.  

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 6/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 6: Sleep/Nap + Psychometry Track: 'Touch' - Sleeping At Last (Spotify / YouTube)

This time it was Quinlan’s own racing heart that woke him. 

His dreams had been filled with blaster fire, flashes of his parents blending into recognized red armor. The screams of his Mother echoed around him as he picked up the broken helmet, saw his own reflection in the visor, his eyes burning yellow- 

The screams became his own. 

He heaved in air, awareness spreading out with the Force into the dim room in search of the threat. He had tried to sit up, felt pain flare in his abdomen and caused him to stall halfway, curling to lean on his uninsured right side. 

“-nlan, focus on me. I know you recognize my voice you joke about it being familiar all the time-“

“Fox?”

He hadn’t even noticed Fox come in, or maybe he had been in the bunk next to him? He hadn’t sensed him in his panic though he had been searching for threats, which Fox definitely wasn’t. If anything Quinlan latched his focus on Fox now and felt only safety, a comfort in the strength of another. 

“I’d say who else could I be but I guess there are at least a couple thousand possibilities,” Fox’s voice became sharper again, falling back on familiar humor at the sign that Quinlan was successfully anchoring himself. 

Another few breaths and Quinlan managed to croak out “Lucky guess then.”

Fox snorted, standing from where he had been kneeling in front of Quinlan. Slowly he reached out, hands barely brushing Quinlan’s shoulder in a clear direction for the Jedi to lay back down, which he did with a soft groan. 

“You should drink something,” the clone Commander pointed out. “Can probably eat now too if-“

“My mother. It was about my Mother.”

Fox pulled up short, half a step from turning away to grab the mentioned water and food. It was the middle of a sleep cycle, so he hadn’t been far when Quinlan’s choked scream woke him, but now he felt almost disconnected as Quinlan opened up in a very rare moment. 

A moment he was sharing, though quietly, as if Fox would push it off- no. As if Quinlan was giving Fox the option to push it off, that he didn’t need to stay and listen. 

But Fox had always listened before, even to things he definitely knew were ridiculous from the man before him. Why do anything different now?

At least, that was the reasoning Fox used as he returned to his spot from earlier, sitting and eyes tracking over Quinlan to check no bandages had come undone in the panic. 

“Your… Mother?”

Quinlan’s head gave the shortest nod but hadn’t managed to look to Fox yet. “She was… murdered. Both of my parents were, sacrificed by my great aunt to Anzati. I was four. They gave me her medallion, the one she wears in every memory I have. And-“

At this, his eyes closed, and Fox watched the signs of Quinlan slowing to find a semblance of control and balance, something honestly quite rare for the straightforward man to do. 

“And they gave it to me knowing full well I was what they described as ‘the best example of psychometry they’d ever seen’. I held the medallion and I relived their deaths like they were my own until Master Tholme found me.”

Fox blinked. He didn’t know truly what to do with any of that information. Surely he couldn’t change the past and had no similar experience of even having a parent to begin with. This wasn’t something he could fight physically or even parse out verbally. But before he could grow any more uncertain with the want to help but no path to understanding how, Quinlan continued with all the calm he shouldn’t have if Fox was to believe he was okay. 

“Sorry if that is a lot. You asked about her and it’s only an explanation of why I panicked. It was long ago, and I deal with it as best I can. I’m telling you not because I think you change anything about it Fox, but just cause you asked,” dark features finally pulled away from the ceiling to land on Fox. “All you had to do was listen, which you did. So, thank you.”

Fox didn’t feel like he should be thanked. Like he hadn’t done anything to actually help, though Quinlan always made it clear that Fox didn’t ever owe him anything. Thus he found himself nodding, agreeing as best he could in the heavy silence. 

Fox could be snippy, strong-headed, and fiercely loyal, pointed himself in a direction and slipped and fought his way to the end with everything he had. And though Quinlan told him thank you, Fox decided he could definitely do more than just sit here looking dumb to receive it. 

He didn’t owe it to Quinlan, he wanted it for himself. 

He reached out, fast before he could rethink it, and took Quinlan’s hand in his own. The Jedi didn’t even flinch, simply gave a short inhale and let his eyes flutter close. Fox had no idea how anything Jedi truly worked, but Quinlan had explained his need for gloves and how his psychometry worked before. Recalling that, he had wondered if Quinlan was strong enough to pick up memories or imagery, and decided he at least wanted to try. A chance to help Quinlan in some way even if it wasn’t with a blaster or armor. 

Face scrunching up slightly in concentration and a thought of how insane this all truly sounded if he thought too long, he pictured Dex’s. He thought about how it had been one of the first places Quinlan ever convinced Fox to eat at. He even recalled some of that meeting, how excited Dex had been, how the food quickly become something Fox loved, and then how it ended with Fox dangling off a speeder while Quinlan attempted to help him and also steer with the Force. 

He really did collect the insane one this time didn’t he? Maybe even give Rex a run for his money in the crazy General department.   

Quinlan suddenly laughed, choked but a laugh nonetheless. So perhaps it wasn’t that insane to think that even without being able to use the Force, Quinlan could reach out and find Fox instead. Like he always seemed able to do.

“Cody is the one with the crazy General,” Quinlan murmured. “But thanks for the nomination.”

Fox thought of some of the stories Cody had told him and snorted softly as Quinlan laughed again.

“I- I can’t tell what you are thinking exactly, it is more an impression and imagery thing, and people are always complicated. But you definitely have no contradictions in the feelings of ‘you’re crazy’.”

Fox rolled his eyes, though at least he hadn’t thought of anything too embarrassing or made a mockery of holding Quinlan’s hand for no reason. “It’s because it isn’t complicated, just a fact. You are crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

It had been said teasingly, familiar in Quinlan’s antics of flirting playfully with Fox, in which the commander would normally quip back at him. But after everything, Fox being confronted with how much hearing Quinlan say goodbye hurt, how his heart plummeted when Quinlan had collapsed so lifelessly in his arms, how every step carrying him back made him fear he may never again hear those flirting comments again, and thus never feel the resulting small flutters of hope that they could be true; after all of it, he finally put a few thoughts to his feelings. A few realizations that his priorities and wants may have shifted without him ever really noticing. Like the shadow he was, Quinlan had slipped in close and before Fox knew it he found he didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again.

In a blink, he decided he wanted Quinlan to stay with him.

“Fox?” 

And in another blink, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, I-” he pulled his hand back, every intention of moving away, under the guise of getting Quinlan or drink or maybe even an excuse to check the ship again. But he had barely let go before Quinlan’s own hand wrapped around his, anchoring the clone in place.

“No, Fox, it’s okay. You don’t have to leave,” Quinlan’s voice was low, raw in a way Fox had never heard before. “I want to stay, want you to stay, if you do too.”

Quiet. Neither of them was known for being quiet, especially not when they were together. But now it filled the small room, cushioned them both in silence that spoke louder than any words. Shifted to still and watched as they both took soft breaths.

Fox moved first.

Slowly he slid towards Quinlan, who moved the blanket back like he had been expecting it. And maybe he had with whatever Jedi nonsense Fox still scrunched his nose up about, but what was important is actually how his own stomach flipped over itself as he was now on his side, one arm naturally stretching out along the bed which Quinlan quickly accommodated, laying still on his back to not agitate his injuries.

Again they stilled, Fox’s eyes drifting over the dreadlocks splayed out across the small bit of pillow between them. Now he was close enough to pick apart the smallest scar almost hidden by Quinlan’s eyebrow, how those yellow tattoos complemented the deep color of his skin, a complexion even darker than Fox’s. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, Commander.”

A joke, one that shocked a scoff out of Fox as he tried not to show how he began to consciously breathe again. “And don’t you dare irritate your wounds. I spent way too long patching them up for you to aggravate them again.”

Quinlan’s eyes had shut and left Fox the illusion of privacy even as he could watch the rise and fall of Quinlan’s bare chest. The hand that had come to rest between them looked wrong now that it was empty, and there was still that little space between them.

Fox shifted closer, fingers drifting over the back of Quinlan’s hand. The Kiffar man hummed quietly, shifted his hand above Fox’s and moved closer as well. Naturally, they tucked close together, and Fox found his nose pressed to soft locks and Quinlan's head turned slightly to ghost breath across the low hollow of Fox’s throat.

“So, you really carried me all the way back?”

Fox steadied himself in the note of humor, even if Quinlan’s own voice still had those unsure feelings hidden in it. It didn’t phase Fox, especially because of how his own emotions were still as confusing as ever and thus he focused on that familiar banter.

“Yeah, dragged your self-sacrificing Jedi ass back here and I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“Awe, would my clone in shining armor like a kiss for his efforts?”

Fox rolled his eyes and sank a bit closer. “I think the painkillers are still affecting you, you sound delusional.”

“Not at all, Fox,” Quinlan hummed. “So much not that I may actually pass out from the pain.”

Fox tried to hide his smile. “Can’t be that bad if you didn’t say anything, di’kut.”

“You would’ve gotten up, and I didn’t want you too.” Quinlan's eyes opened lazily to glance towards their entwined fingers, smile small but bright. “Not a chance Foxie, not for anything.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“All for you Fox. A true menace or you wouldn’t like me.”

Fox felt the other man sag against him. His voice had slurred, being awake finally becoming too exhausting for him. And Fox selfishly accepted the moment, relished in the touch of someone he found he trusted explicitly for the rare seconds he would have it.

Only to realize… he didn’t have to steal the moment. Vos had gifted it to him. Was giving him the chance, the choice, the option. Told him exactly what he wanted, and gave the Fox the moment to back out or get up and leave. To keep the distance they had carefully crafted with their quips and side missions and drunk sabacc games. 

Quinlan’s thumb brushed over the back of Fox’s hand.

Fox stayed.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 3 - Post #5: What did the wall ever do to you? [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 2.8K (of 45K total in Volume 3)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, *NSFW*

__________________________________________

V. This is probably the most luxurious, and yet shady hotel that you’ve ever stayed at…pretty perfect for the clientele of Daiyu City. It's all very minimalist, with polished surfaces and elegant fabrics. In fact, the whole establishment seems a rich extravagance for such an ascetic man who usually slept on the ground, sitting propped against a wall.

But the outsized cushy mattress is not why Mando booked a room here.

The windows are tinted and reflective from the outside—though the neon haze of the city lights and rooftop signs still cast a pale glow over the Beskar armor while he sits watching the street below through his scope. 

As an added precaution, all the room’s lamps are turned off. It's entirely dark except for a pool of soft pink light from the hotel's marquee that emanated over the white bedsheets and blankets. You pull off your gloves and weave the rosy glow between your fingers, finding it difficult not to grow fidgety as you sit waiting with nothing to do. 

Some movement from across the room catches your attention. You catch sight of yourself in a gold-marbled mirror mounted to the wall and barely recognize the figure in front of you. Hidden behind layers of black leather, glass, and metal...she could be anyone.

Removing your visor, you pull off the hood and shake out your mane of long hair. There you are.

And what had been the point of all that effort playing dress up?

Ryun Vos certainly didn't believe you were some fearsome mercenary working alongside the Mandalorian. He clocked you immediately as a charity case, clinging to his shadow for protection.

In the end, you'd just proven to be a liability.

Falling back onto the bed in a huff, you tuck both arms under your head and stare at the ceiling. Ugh, you smell so gross…like stress sweat. 

And you don’t really want to lie here indefinitely watching Mando surveilling the apartment across the street. Waiting for Morigan to show up.

That Anzati woman. You didn’t ask the Mandalorian about her. But from how Ryun Vos reacted when Mando suggested her for the job—and by the way she looked at him—you can just tell they had some kind of history. 

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Mando."

You’re not jealous, exactly. Just insecure. She's everything the bounty hunter wanted from your performance today. And it turns out, you’re not a very good imitation. 

Speaking of Vos…

“I need to take a shower after our…that man makes my skin crawl.” You sit up and rub your hands over your face. “I feel like I just survived wandering through a minefield.”

“Now?!” Mando asks irritably without looking away from the scope. “What if Morig—”

A deafening voice screams inside your head. You don’t want to hear him say her name.

“Come on, Mando,” you scoff, getting to your feet. “If something does happen, you’ll spring into action and leave me behind anyway.” 

This time, he does turn to look at you.

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry.” 

Gods, he's right. You are a terrible liar.

“Yes, you are," he insists. "You put your hands on your hips when you’re angry.”

Immediately, you lift your hands from your hips and cross them over your chest.

“I’m just…uncomfortable. I need a shower.”  

“I don’t think we have time for—”

“I’ll be quick.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks skeptically. “How long will it take you to get out of that suit? I told you to tie something to the zipper.”

“Are you offering to help? Or would you rather sit there and watch me struggle to get it off?”

The image of your body writhing around on the bed in frustration with your hands behind your back springs to mind. And it's not the first time you’ve wondered if that’s something he might be into — what with being a hunter and all. 

You might not be allowed to touch him…but maybe he’d feel more comfortable if he could tie you down…if he were in control…

You’ve lost track of how long this awkward silence has dragged out. 

“It’s fine. I, um…I’m flexible.” You blanch. “To reach the zipper, I mean!” 

Mortified, you jump up and rush to the bathroom.

“I don’t think—” he growls after you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching him, Mando? He could have been kidnapped while you sat there scolding me.”  

As soon as the door closes behind you, you slide your back against the lacquered wood and collapse into a puddle on the floor. Why do you let him have this effect on you? Why does he turn you into a babbling toddler throwing a tantrum?

Get your shit together!   

While not graceful or efficient, you hop and wriggle and reach until you manage to get out of the body suit. With the zipper undone, it peels off your body like a second skin. You turn it inside out, hoping the sweat will dry quickly before you have to put it back on again.

What about your underwear? The fabric is damp and slick with your come. Maker, did it only take the thought of him tying you up to get you this wet…

You step into the fresher, trusting that the rush of water will drown out the sound of you masturbating. You imagine yourself with the courage to make that kind of offer to him—tie me up, tie me to the bed—as your hand drifts slowly down your stomach, between your thighs to where your swollen clit rises up to meet the brush of your fingertips. It strains against your touch, sensitive with need. 

You remember the feeling of his bare hand tracing over the apex of your thighs, probing the heat and slickness of your core. How he had slipped one long slender finger inside you…how he’d gasped, discovering just how wet you were…how wet he made you.

Like now, just thinking about him…the hot water pouring from the shower cascades over your skin, making you flush with heat, your nipples bud and tighten. Drawing your middle finger in a line between your center, you pause, poised to dip into your aching cunt. 

You’re so wet, you can barely feel it. You need more. More girth, more pressure. You need to feel full and stretched.

Having seen his cock…having felt it thick and swollen, pressed against your stomach…you know what it would do to you. And the aching builds.

While you've tried to be mindful of your professional ethics, you have, nonetheless, committed his dick to memory. A shade of brown that's darker than his soft golden skin. He's uncut, and you wonder what it might feel like to slide that velvety sheath down over his shaft to lick the pink head of his cock.

You add another finger, pressing your head and shoulders into the cool tile of the shower stall. You groan and grind into your hand, desperate to feel the waves of pleasure crest over your body and give you some relief.

Every muscle in your body tenses with anticipation, but when you finally come—frantically thrusting and curling your fingers inside you—no sense of calm or easing follows. Just more yearning. Your stomach knotted with tension, shame, and guilt. 

You punch the tile with your wet fist. “Fuck his Creed and fuck his Way.” 

Instead of clearing your head and unburdening your mind, hot tears mix together with the water falling over your cheeks. You've never experienced this kind of rejection before.

If someone you're drawn to isn't into you, it's a casual thing to brush off. And relationships that did extend past a one-night stand usually just fell apart in an amicable sort of way, with things having run their course. It's never felt like this before, like a knife twisting in your chest.

It's fucking humbling, is what it is...

In the end, crying turns out to be a better form of release. And when you step out of the bathroom, you feel more prepared to face the Mandalorian again. 

Morigan must have collected Ozan Sango while you were in the shower because Mando's no longer sitting poised and vigilant at the window. Instead, he's slouched against the chair with his feet resting on the edge of the bed. You tip-toe out of the bathroom and keep your movements quiet so as not to wake him.

“I’m not asleep.” 

You jump out of your skin and snap at him in irritation. “Well, how the fuck would I know.” 

“Still angry then.” He sits up straighter. “Look, if this is about Vos—”

“What?” Ryun Vos is the furthest thing from your mind right now, but it's a better excuse than being lovesick. “I mean, yeah, he got under my skin. Still...I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry.”

“Who says I don’t deserve it?”

You roll your eyes. His gallantry is always tinged with this weird masochism—like he wanted to be punished.

Hell, maybe he’s the one who likes getting tied up? This would explain why women like Morigan caught his eye. Women who are the exact opposite of you...the humanoid equivalent of that down comforter he's got crushed under his muddy boots right now.    

Sigh. At least you’re good for something. There's nothing worse than being useless.

“Can I heal your broken ribs?” you ask timidly.

“I’m fine,” he says flatly.

“Mando, I thought we’d gotten past this.”

“It’s not that. I just…don’t remove any of my armor while I’m on the job.”

“Hard to argue with that," you smirk at him. "The Beskar might be the only reason your guts aren’t spilled all over Vos’s carpet.”  

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the Mandalorian says wryly, his voice warm and teasing.

You take that as an invitation to approach him. In response, he places his feet back on the ground and leans forward in his seat.

“You don’t need me to tell you you’re a fucking force of nature, Mando. But you’re also not invincible.” To make your point, you poke his side before he can snatch your hand away.

“Ah!” He barks at you, cradling his ribcage. “I never said I wasn’t injured.”

You laugh playfully, "I can't believe I landed a body blow against the mighty Mandalorian."

When you raise a finger to launch another attack, he catches your hand in his. "Believe it's because I let you."

And this is why you're totally fucked. Not five minutes ago, this man had you crying on the floor of the bathroom from sexual frustration, and now you're staring at him wide-eyed while he holds your hand.

“If you don't want to take off your armor, I could maybe...just touch your chin…” you suggest tentatively. “Under the helmet.”

He'd pulled you closer when catching your hand, and you find yourself standing with your knees brushing against the side of his muscular thigh. For fucksake, you even like the way he sits with his legs splayed wide.

You look down. For some reason, he's still holding your hand.

“Alright,” Mando concedes, then clears his throat. “Would you put some clothes on first?”

“What?” 

He took a deep sigh and let go of your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be inside my head right now.”

You take a peek in the mirror to check on the towel wrapped securely under your arms. It's a thick, plushy bath towel that didn’t gape or reveal anything.

Okay, forget the BDSM fantasies and remember who this man is for a minute. He might honestly be the first person to encourage you to cover up more.

“Oh! Sorry. I’m just waiting for…I wiped down my suit, and it's…I’m letting it dry. I’m not…I wasn’t trying to…” You decide to just blunder on through it. “Things like nudity and physical expression are a lot more socially accepted in my culture. I realize Mandalorians are more…conservative with your affection, but...”

You can’t tell if Mando is horrified or else just laughing at you under that helmet. 

“I promise I wasn’t scheming to seduce you.” Is the explanation you land on.

“It's fine.” He stands up abruptly and takes back your hand, lifting your fingers towards his throat and tilting his chin so that you can reach under the Beskar to place your palm beneath his jaw. 

Taken by surprise at the sudden intimacy, you shake your head a little to refocus on your task. It doesn’t take long to reknit the bones—though it is distracting trying not to notice your pinky finger resting against his earlobe.

Holding his face like this felt dangerously close to the prelude of a kiss. A kiss you'll never share with him. A reminder that behind the real and imagined armor, he's a man starving to be touched. 

“All done,” you mumble quietly. 

The Mandalorian draws in a sharp breath as your fingertips trail the length of his jaw, and his whole body stiffens. The delicacy of your touch was only meant to avoid disturbing his helmet. You should step away from him, but somehow, you're rooted to the spot.

Then, you feel his consciousness pressing against your thoughts. Expecting to see another image of his mother or childhood, you're shocked to instead see a flash of his memory of ... you.

Straddling his hips, he looked down at your bare breasts as he pressed them together between his hands.

Before you see more, he grips your wrist roughly.

“Don’t,” he says in warning. 

“Sorry!” You gasp, flustered, and immediately, you look down at your feet. “I know you want to pretend like it didn’t happen.” 

He remains silent for a long time, standing there with your wrist still held in his grip. When he finally speaks, his voice sounds so distant. “I don’t know what else to do.” 

The heartbreak in his words felt so unfair that your head snaps up to look directly into his view plate. “Why not?”

His free hand grips your other wrist, pulling you against him.

“Because I want you,” he's practically shouting. You blink nervously against the tears welling up. Mando's breathing comes out shallow and ragged, "And I can’t have you."

Is this what you were after? To find some kind of validation in his pain and heartache? Are you really so selfish?

“I’m sorry, Mando. This is all my fault,” you tremble, holding back more tears. “I didn’t give you a lot of choice when I threw myself at you—”

“Enough. It wasn’t like that...I was…" he sighed again. "I didn’t expect to feel…I was worried about you, and I got carried away. But it wasn’t just you.”

“Hmmf, you're always coming to my rescue," you smile meekly. "I guess you did use your…sexy voice. And asking to devour me, I mean—”

“My what voice?” he scoffs.

“Your voice drops into this low, husky register when you’re—I know you know when you’re doing it.” 

“If you say so,” he chuckles quietly, and it feels like the sun piercing through a rainstorm.

“I can understand that you’d like to go back to how things were…before,” you say, looking up at him. “And I promise to be more mindful of your boundaries if…if..."

If you want him to be open and vulnerable with you, then you have to hold yourself to those same expectations.

"Will you promise not to ice me out, Mando? If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, please just tell me. I would really appreciate it if we could extend the trust we’ve built to include being honest about our thoughts and feelings, too?”  

He nods, and you sense a growing tension in his body. “There’s something I need to say to you…I shouldn’t have risked bringing you with me to see Vos. I didn’t realize that he would connect what happened on Danvar and—”

“I know you want to keep me safe, Mando,” you say, trying to alleviate some of his guilt and reassure him. “But this whole scheme against Tagge Corp won’t work if you don’t believe I’m capable of withstanding men like Ryun Vos.” 

This is the wrong thing to say, apparently because the tone in his voice becomes stern.

“Thulani, I know you’re very capable…but your powers didn’t protect you from that knife. I did."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You almost died because of me, and you don’t seem to be very upset about it. Do you not understand what kind of risk I took with your life?”

“You saved my life. I never doubted that you’d protect me.”

The Mandalorian steps away to begin pacing the room in aggravation.

“Why do you sound so grateful when I was the one who put you in danger?”

“Mando—"

“Can't you see I didn't protect you? I let Vos use you, and it almost got you killed." And before you grasp what's happening, he had punched a hole in the wall.

“The fuck?” you gasp, mouth hanging open. “Mando, this place is fancy. If I knew your actual name, I would yell it at you. Why are you acting like this?”

He didn't answer.

"I agreed to Vos's terms. And I can take responsibility for my own judgment. But I wouldn't have walked onto that ship if I didn't trust that you would save me."

“Put your clothes on," the Mandalorian growls. "We're leaving." 

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

Continue reading Volume 3 - Post #6: You can find me in the Club

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[hauntedhowlett-writes]

PLS tell me about vampire din im begging 🙏

vampire!din, where the mandalorians are descendants of the Anzati that evolved to consume blood.

vampire!din, where the mandalorians wear helmets not because of a creed, but for safety. a muzzle, if you will.

vampire!din, who’s ship breaks down on an outer rim planet and he’s running out of time to get more nutrient supplement from the core worlds and oh the mechanic is really really pretty 👀

[sithfox]

Today's fic snippet is from the lost prince fic, which has ballooned well past my initial plans. Oops. This scene is near the beginning, which is me rewriting the Kiffu scenes from the Jedi: Count Dooku comic.

Suddenly, he’s at his parents' funeral. He can see himself saluting the casket, a much younger him mourning the loss of his family. Kurlin’s big hand had weighed heavy on his shoulder at the time, but now he is Tinte. She’s confident her guilt will not be discovered. The Anzati had demanded blood of her blood to seal the pact: she’d assigned Quian and Pethros a patrol that would let the Anzati attack and feed on them. Now she just had to take the final steps of her plan while that Force-addled Jedi was gone.

The memory skips and he stands over himself, darkly victorious, when the youth accepts his mother’s emblem. Let him see the Dark. Let him learn to fear it. Then the Jedi will not take him and he can stay here, where he belongs. When the boy starts screaming, she has a single moment of doubt, but no regrets. Never regrets.

[adriansvetozaroff]

Some different crossovers.

Bruno the Kadabra. 2023. Pokemon/Encanto crossover. Firstly, Bruno is a touching character, secondly, he reminded me of my favorite psychic type, just as thin, can seem sinister and is considered a harbinger of trouble, but in fact he is not without charm. Thirdly, Nintendo for 16 years: "Not a word about kadabra!"

Anzati Hunter D. 2016. Star Wars/D: Bloodlust crossover. I think it's rather stylish.

Lysandre Cafe. 2022. "Do you want to be with those who give or those who take?". Idea of a crossover with "Menu" (I can't vouch for the accuracy of the quote, as I watched the film in my native language, but its theme, in my opinion, suits Lysandre)

I, Mewtwo. 2014. Crossover with "I, Frankenstein" made for fun.

Fuji's Monster. 2023. Mewtwo as Frankenstein's monster from "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein" movie. "Have you thought about the consequences of what was started by you? Who am I? Do you think I'm evil? You hardly know how much love and affection is in me, and hardly believe how much hate is in me. And if I can not meet one sense, I am completely give myself for other!"

Rose Red. 2013. Sabrina's youth associates for me with S. King's "Rose Red", that's why I wanted to draw her like this. 

Bonding. 2015. Mewtwo and Indominus Rex. Crossover with "Jurassic world"

I did it 35 minutes ago. 2016. Mewtwo as Ozymandias from "Watchmen", just for fun as a perfect ending for "Mewtwo strikes back"

Guilty! 2014. «I was weak. That's why I needed you... Needed someone to punish me for my sins...» Professor Fuji as protagonist in "Silent Hill" game series. Crossover is based on SH 2, but totally AU. 

[asgardian-angel]

What about the Anzati? They drank people's life-force and called it Soup.

For those wondering, the Aniseya Coven was not the first group to call The Force something different than what the Jedi and Sith call it.

Out of all the things to complain about, you are complaining about the wrong thing.

Try again.

[auditect]

Experience the thrilling backstory of the sadistic Bounty Hunter Aurra Sing in Aurra's Song, a brand new comic dub featuring @silyabeeodess in the lead role and an original soundtrack composed by me!

[chephalopods]

Sorry this is real random especially for a first time message on your blog (heyyyo I’m AzoraStarr) but I’m so curious about your Anzati oc, the one you did art of (awesome drawing by the way!) 😂 I’m on a Star Wars Anzati trip, especially with Auditect posting the final part for his Quinlan Vos comic dub with fallen former Jedi Knight Volfe Karkko. What’s your characters story, also love the Loth cat companion 👍🏻 in the other art you’ve done.

Hi! Thanks so much for your interest!

Sol is a weapons smith and ex-assassin (and by that I just mean he's not as active.) Here are some notes on him, but I'd love to go into more depth with him when I have time- there's a much clearer vision that I have in my head than what I've put into words haha

[i-have-zero-social-skills]

Another Excerpt From The Timeline Fic For My AU

23 BBY (977 ARR): All the Jedi feel a massive disturbance in the Force that is clearly Dark in origin. 

Masters Mace Windu, Even Piell, Coleman Trebor, K’Kruhk, Neeja Halcyon, An’ya Kuro, Yan Dooku, Shaak Ti, T’ra Saa, and Yaddle, as well as Padawan Anakin Skywalker are sent to investigate it.

They are able to find that this disturbance originated on the planet Ziost, so they travel there. Upon arriving, they further narrow down the location of the disturbance to ancient ruins of a massive structure. While exploring these ruins, they are attached by ten Sith Apprentices: A white haired Human man, a Chiss woman, a Near-Human woman, an Umbaran woman, a Human woman with burn scars on her face, a Korunnai man, a young Human woman, an Anzati man, a Twi’lek man, and a middle aged Human woman. Coleman Trebor is killed in the fight with the Sith Apprentices, and Masters An’ya Kuro and Yan Dooku find their former Padawans among the Sith Apprentices, while Mace Windu discovers that one of the Sith Apprentices is his long-lost brother. All three Masters are able to put their complicated emotions aside, and do their duty as Jedi after they realize that all the Sith Apprentices are past the point of being reasoned with. During the fight, Darth Nashtah kills herself in an attempt to hurt An’ya Kuro one last time when she realizes she can’t win. After all the Apprentices are dealt with, the Master reveals himself to be the same Muun Sith the Jedi fought on Coruscant.

Through a powerful Light Side power called the Wall of Light, the Sith Master is quickly defeated by the Jedi, but he is able to kill Master Neeja Halcyon.

After the Sith have been defeated, the Jedi explore the ruins, and find two infants. A boy and a girl. The children are taken to the Temple on Tannalor and named Luke and Leia.

[444names]

Names generated from the Italian Wikipedia article on "Italy" plus French and German forenames

Accanale Acchien Acordoaceb Acrente Adazior Adeolta Adicy Affici Agebblità Aggetta Aggicolagli Aghealus Aldoga Alepoi Alligoni Alvato Amene Amigi Ampaetta Andatti Angeopreca Angra Anotti Anovatiche Anzati Aorione Aphalche Apolin Apolone Apperreter Aqual Ardinche Ardisio Areante Arienticina Artenzecis Ascio Assibella Assinia Assisti Assubjea Astresa Atale Atordotta Atorna Aughitemie Aurgianze Ausse Avamigno Avase Avilesoni...

Bancente Bancepi Banzatrita Basbusti Batalenni Batore Bentalche Berato Bermante Bernerse Bestramesso Bilinew Bologili Cachis Calica Canizzo Canni Canzie Carazio Carti Casis Censespeci Cernificità Cetto Cilamone Cipolcoletà Citapia Clabizio Clasta Clevillack Coaccedono Colarda Coldi Colinin Colititi Collani Colmori Comicante Compantammi Coneallo Coneli Coneoismoni Coneoto Coniture Consevo Conte Corassi Cormatio Cosinalile Costrasick Cricasti Crigonse Crodo Danti Decesi Delad Dentato Denterd Dericincimp Dersane Derti Dianni Dimaro Dindono Dinetto Dinia Dinie Diormentere Distica Divente Doper Doriste Doteranoto Ducazione Duzzah Edandone Edeozienti Elenni Elgart Elmetimi Eloneri Emenallizza Emessie Emilini Enteolità Eolluddia Eproblia Erecturio Eronno Esano Eshariste Esteri Estexix Estri Etter Ettivolta Euccado Eucche Eurbodo Eurriva Fabormoni Fallari Faniffra Farviarista Fasseinig Favvistroli Felizioliri Festric Feterco Fichinia Filichria Firatte Fissi Fisto Flumenale Fonfresti Fornena Forto Franuto Fumitere Gabicon Gadopolo Gatistiva Gautteata Gentuti Geoginquen Geonce Geozza Gerni Gesceato Giurisite Golia Gonegrater Goveragene Grali Grassata Grele Grelei Grelo Grent Gripentenza Grist Guattec Guelfona Guistame Guito Gélie Hanri Hilhe Hugligia Imenti Immetto Imonter Impenza Impolati Indanto Inforah Inicha Initosmoka Insione Intani Isaglia Isthm Jacie Jeato Joacquidita Josolmine Joste Köpplautt Labilieta Lariof Latato Lattessede Lavar Laziononsi Lebarenze Leccino Leggione Liaro Licalizzo Lindio Lisperso Lunale Luzionari Lynente Maggione Magline Malinomi Manneolivo Manoni Mantei Marcumia Martosegi Medina Mendano Mententi Menza Menzaziono Mersi Metto Michesale Miclie Micomo Miconelato Migene Miggismove Migistarie Milpio Minghelli Mionarismo Mistia Mitenti Moriti Mosita Musule Nalmeziono Nanico Nattiche Nazzato Nendento Nessero Nestrato Notran Novinald Ocare Ociatoni Oclatruni Ocronn Onziane Opengue Oregagovoto Orema Orficono Orgiona Orgonentò Orinsi Orito Orità Ormartua Ovappità Ovilisti Pacenze Padia Padosisce Paggiuto Paranto Passei Paustie Pazini Pedepare Periana Perietto Perterte Picorno Pilizione Pinialcipio Polatteta Polazia Pondo Pondote Ponfruto Potto Pottps Prati Prelleno Prelli Prenza Prestano Priboezio Printi Proalisso Proggiuta Promanosi Propote Puari Puggionsena Pupossità Qualgemung Quelleta Quessie Rambari Rando Rapollita Ratieta Rattena Raziare Raziarre Recanata Rellai Repanno Rialvicone Riche Riedicende Rieliaglimo Rietiveni Rigenzia Rigili Rigio Rilloni Rione Rismouroci Ristranata Roclardt Romanotito Rozzannare Sacregui Sajesti Salmily Sandig Sanne Satostoulli Saveri Scologio Scostrati Segnès Sempar Senica Serappeeta Seresti Sermedrado Sfichich Sicinve Sicola Slano Sonteropr Sorezzoi Spale Spapone Spellazione Spere Spervanale Spone Ssestaca Stalenta Starbellono Sticolia Stina Stippere Stiregna Stregugo Suagna Subbri Subidet Substegui Sulrichi Suppro Suraffato Surbità Suzzà Svesionosts Svocino Séverrati Talganza Tatimo Tenida Tentes Tentiza Tento Tesisca Tessidia Timingen Torthonsili Tradeschen Trapie Trato Trazzata Trene Trion Troce Trottibie Uffesenti Ulognazi Uncla Unzio Uuinote Valersara Vatorneon Vegnistra Vegrarpe Venck Venja Verborrut Vicalle Vidoticasi Vinuccinie Visimatenza Vistra Walinsi Willi Winizi Wtorfialevo Xittore Xviterviste

[grandpahades]

The dumbest thing about the drawing all the sentient species thing is that if I want to draw humanoids, which normally would have been Anzati soon, Id have to look at the humanoid section instead. I understand that not all sentient species are humanoids which is fine, but having to look at two lists to make ocs is big dumb

[1outofmymind]

Hey! I hope you don’t mind me asking or commenting but I’ve gotten back into the Quinlin Vos Star Wars comics and got to the arch with Volfe Karkko. If he went back to the light side what do you think he would be like? What would prompt returning to the light side? (Maybe a young force user/potential padawan that actually shows him kindness? We all know how the Anzati are treated like street vermin though to be fair their diet doesn’t help their image)

Do you think part of Volfe’s mistake of trying the ‘soup’ after centuries of his life not giving in was to prove he could be better since it said he sighted his Jedi training as why he wouldn’t get addicted? I mean if a lot of the Jedi order at the time and the Jedi order currently doesn’t think an Anzati should be a Jedi and are constantly watching and waiting for the first sign or mistake I think he’d be trying to prove his worth. Probably part of what was sighted in the holocron record on him as prideful behavior.

Also sorry to bother or ramble I just wanted to know your thoughts 😅 I hope you have a great day! 😄

I think, if he returned to the light, he would regret his arrogance, which caused his fall to the Dark side. It would probably be Aayla, as she's very kind. Her being under dark Karkko control was due to drug-inflicted memory loss.

And yeah, i think, that Volfe tried "soup" to prove himself to Jedi and kinda test himself. Sadly, he failed.