#in defence of the last jedi

[sjbattleangel]

Like Shaun here, I believe The Last Jedi is THE best Star Wars film right alongside The Empire Strikes Back. As Shaun defends the film. he even goes on to tackle its most common nitpicks ("Luke was out of character", "the Canto Blight sequence was pointless", ect), all whilst noticing its striking similarities with The Empire Strikes Back.

I recommend watching this video wholeheartedly.

[saphronethaleph]

Keyword

Palpatine raised his hands, lightning sparking in them, and blasted at Mace Windu with a fan of electrical energy.

Mace raised his lightsaber, blocking the assault, and pressed the attack. He forced Palpatine back, against the windowsill, and the Chancellor’s gaze flicked for a moment to Anakin.

“He is a traitor, Anakin!” he appealed, desperate.

“He’s the traitor!” Mace said, his voice strained by the effort of sustaining the Seventh Form and maintaining control of the battle. “Stop him!”

“Come to your senses, boy!” Palpatine implored. “The Jedi are in revolt! They will betray you, just as they betrayed me!”

His bolts of lightning pressed in on Mace’s defences, and Mace shouted in exertion.

Anakin’s hand twitched, torn at a moment of decision. The Force pressed in on him, on this moment, and he took a step forwards.

There was a faint squish sound as he stepped in Master Tiin, and Anakin glanced down to see the half-bisected corpse on the ground.

“You are not one of them, Anakin!” Palpatine pleaded. “Don’t let him kill me!”

Anakin’s gaze lifted again, to the battle, and he hesitated.

“I am your pathway to power!” Palpatine insisted. “I have the power to save the one you love-”

“Anakin!” Mace interrupted, his voice a shout. “If we stop him now I think we can save Master Fisto!”

Anakin blinked, looking down at the Nautolan.

He appeared to be missing at least two lungs, possibly all three of them.

“We can?” he asked. “He looks… dead.”

“Force healing, mother-” Mace shouted, his irritation spiking and leading him dangerously close to falling off the blade’s edge of the Seventh Form, then wrenched himself back into balance with a monumental effort.

Then Anakin stabbed Palpatine in the side, and the sudden cutoff in Palpatine’s spray of Force Lightning meant that the Chancellor went flying out the window.

Then a speeder crashed into him, and he exploded.

“Ow,” Mace muttered, blinking a few times. “Now that was a shatterpoint.”

“...why did he explode?” Anakin asked, confused, then shook his head. “Master – Master Fisto!”

“Right,” Mace said, deactivating his lightsaber and taking two striding steps over to the fallen Masters – stepping over Master Kolar before kneeling on the battered floor of the office.

“What do I do?” Anakin asked. “How can I help?”

“Hold his head up and watch,” Mace replied, focusing, and put both hands on the chest of his friend. “Nautolans can last for longer without air than humans can, but he needs his lungs…”

Anakin watched, fascinated, as Mace summoned the Force to him.

It was… surprisingly simple, all things considered. It wasn’t some kind of complex, intricate trick where Mace had to factor in all the medical details of exactly what he was doing.

It was just… he was willing to give up some of his own strength, some of his own life. And as he did, Master Fisto coughed, a wet sound but one that showed he was still alive.

Then so did Mace.

“Ow,” the human Master muttered. “I’d… appreciate it if you could call a medic…”

“Master?” Anakin asked, worried. “Are you all right?”

“One of my lungs doesn’t work any more, what do you think?” Mace asked, shaking his head. “There’s a reason we don’t teach that technique to just anyone…”

He turned, slumping into a sitting position on the floor, and sighed. “I think I could have handled this whole thing better…”

“I wondered why you didn’t try to arrest him,” Anakin admitted.

“We did,” Mace replied. “For trial before the Senate – he said he was the Senate. Then he killed three Jedi Masters in five seconds, and you saw yourself… disarming him wouldn’t do anything to stop him killing anyone he wanted dead.”

He shot a glare at Anakin. “Medic?”

“Oh – right,” Anakin realized, fumbling for his commlink.

[the-cybersmith]

That's a foolish Philistine point, and you either don't understand TV Tropes, or you don't understand art. Also, unblock me, you coward.

In case the image isn't readable, here's the text, by tumblr user Txttletale, I apologise for the foul language and poor grammar, but in her defence she is Foreign:

absolute dumbest shit on tvtropes is how if a trope isnt in a fucking thing theyll still put it on the things page and be like, Averted. Downplayed. Inverted. youll be readimng the tvtropes page for tom and jerry and itll be like Violence Is Not An Option: Inverted. Actually Tom and Jerry always hit each other with mallets and other household weaponry. She Is Not My Girlfriend: Downplayed. Nobody even suggests that Tom is Jerry’s girlfriend, so there’s no need to deny it. Everybody Has Lots Of Sex: Averted. Nobody has sex in Tom & Jerry.

This is wrongheaded, for two major reasons:

TV Tropes is not a fiction summary site. It's not "Wikipedia but only for media". It's fundamentally a collaborative attempt to document and analyse TROPES. Tropes are patterns that occur in media, and media can be, in some sense, analysed as sequences of symbols.

The absence of a symbol is itself a symbol.

The things that an Author DOESN'T include in a story can often be as important as the things an Author DOES include in a story.

If we would expect to see a specific trope, and that trope isn't there, then the non-presence of the trope may be relevant to analysis.

For example, let's consider things we might expect to see in War Films.

Triumphant moments of violence: in a war film, we might expect to see our protagonist defeating enemies, and this to be portrayed triumphantly, in a way that inspires awe and excitement and joy.

Celebrations/Honours: In a War film, we might expect to see our protagonists honoured, either through extensive praise, or by actual formal military decoration.

Now let's look at a film that shows neither of these: 1917.

The protagonist, William Schofield, kills three enemies throughout the film, two soldiers and a pilot. None of these moments are shown to be triumphant. None of them bring us any joy. What does this say about the film? What might we analyse about the film, and about the war it depicts?

The protagonist, William Schofield, is not honoured or decorated. He completes his mission, and the most he receives is the acknowledgement of a job well done, not by the General who assigned him his orders, or by the Colonel to whom they pertained, but by a nameless adjutant to the Colonel. Schofeld is not celebrated. He is not treated as a hero. What does this say about industrialised combat? What does this say about the dehumanising nature of Trench Warfare?

Whatever it says, we can analyse it only by what we DO NOT SEE.

For an even starker example, let's look at Star Wars.

The Skywalker Saga consists of nine films. In all but one of them, the final shot of the film is extremely formulaic, there is a closing shutter transition to the credits on a scene depicting a living member of the Skywalker family, who has also been a major factor in the plot, seen in multiple prior scenes.

The sole exception to this is Episode VIII, The Last Jedi. It closes on a character who had only appeared very briefly in the film prior to that. A character whose name we were not told. A character of no significant family. A character distinguished, not by great heroic deeds or a magnificent destiny, but by the simple choice to help a stranger.

WHAT MIGHT THAT FACT MEAN? WHAT MIGHT THIS SIGNIFICANT OMISSION, THIS NON-PATTERN, THIS AVERTED TROPE, MEAN?

Well, we can only begin to answer that question once we have asked it. And to ask it, we actually do have to look at the place where the patterns are not.

Tom and Jerry, for example: it portrays many of the ugly, unsavoury aspects of the world. Domestic Violence, animal abuse, predation, and (YMMV) racial stereotyping are all depicted.

Yet, sexuality is not. That wicked blot upon the world is absent, even when so many other grotesqueries are featured.

The aversion of "Everybody Has Lots Of Sex" is something we might reasonably include in our analysis, particularly when many other examples of American Animation that were contemporary with Tom and Jerry DO feature sexual themes.

Could somebody please let Txttletale know about this? She has me blocked for some reason, but I want her to see this.

[stealingpotatoes]

I love how, whenever anyone tries to categorize the Last 4 Jedi, it is something like this; child soldier and Padawan of the chosen one, the guy who blew up the death star and son of the chosen one, that one guy(Cal), and that other guy(Ezra).

i mean in ezra's defence he had been a missing person for like, 10-12 years

[grifonecoronato]

Hot Take: Oshamir is One-Sided

[Spoilers for The Acolyte]

Star Wars fans know that Osha and Qimir’s relationship is doomed to end tragically. The Sith is a culture that eats itself: the apprentice either kills the master and takes their place, or is killed by the master in the attempt. So even if Qimir kills Darth Plagueis (and we know this won’t happen), he’s just going to have to deal with Osha attempting to kill him one day.

(Side note: I have a sneaking suspicion that Qimir is not actually Sith, since he never calls himself one, he just says "a Jedi like you would call me, Sith." But that's a topic for another day...)

Given what I know about The Acolyte fandom, a doomed romance is hardly something we'll shy away from; we’ll revel in the tragedy of it all, and the sadder it is and the harder we hurt, the more we'll love it!

No, I want to discuss something else; something I don't think many Acolyte fans really want to acknowledge... that the “romance” as shown at the end of series is one-sided: Qimir's side. The last shot of the series implies that Qimir and Osha are ready to face the galaxy together, hand-in-hand, but...

Qimir cares for Osha; Osha does not care for Qimir.

Hey! HEY!

Put your pitchforks down and just hear me out, please!

What Qimir Desires and Fears

Qimir -- his arms muddy, his dark hair slick against his sweaty brow, holding Mae hostage with his lightsaber threatening to ignite through her skull at any moment -- explains his motivation to Sol:

"[I want] freedom: the freedom to wield my power the way I like, without having to answer to Jedi like you. I want a pupil. An acolyte."

Qimir wants acceptance and connection, to be seen and appreciated by someone else. But he mentions several times that he wants a pupil, which by definition would put him in a position of power and authority over someone else, even if it's to help build them up.

This presents an underlying contradiction in what Qimir says he wants, versus what he really wants:

Does he want an equal who sees and cares for him?

Or does he want a pupil that he can teach from a position of power?

The show leaves the answer ambiguous, but nestled in this contradiction lies Qimir's biggest fear.

Qimir fears opening up and being seen. He wears a mask to conceal his identity, but he also hides his character behind his personas: the buffoon, the nervous helper, the murderer, the teacher, the seducer...

From Qimir's point-of-view, he's been betrayed before, and that betrayal left scars...

"I was [a Jedi]. A long time ago... [...] It was a really long time ago."

...so he needs to protect himself from getting so close to someone that they harm him again.

Betrayal and Murder on Khofar

So, on Khofar, when Mae reveals that she was only ever using "The Stranger" for her own revenge, Qimir chooses to kill her.

He could have chosen to run back to his ship and let Mae rot in Jedi jail (or wherever they take murderous Force-users...), rather than risk discovery. Attacking Mae and the Jedi was not a smart move if he feared being seen. But that doesn't matter: he's Sith, and he finds strength in his emotions, including his own fear.

So, he resolved to commit murder against Kelnacca, then slay the whole Jedi posse hunting Mae, and then deal with Mae.

But here's the thing: Qimir likes to frame his actions as self-defence...

"I killed Jedi. I killed those who threaten my existence."

..but this isn't actually true, is it? He didn't need to kill Kelnacca in his home -- Kelnacca, who knew nothing about Qimir, or Indara's death, or Torbin's death, or any recent event really, and who was absolutely no threat to him -- nor didn't need to face off against the entire Jedi posse.

He chose to commit murder and engage in combat because he couldn't stand the fact that Mae used and betrayed him.

Osha Sees Through Qimir

The conversation between Qimir and Osha seems to be him slowly convincing her that the Jedi are terrible, and that she should find her own path to power.

And, of course, that he can be her guide.

After all, he answers nearly every one of her questions with a question of his own, in a kind of socratic method designed to make her question her own judgment.

All the while, Qimir uses a gentle voice and gentle touch to signal that he yearns for her, that he craves her acceptance, that he can help her if she just accept it, that she can trust him.

To make her feel safe, he even lets her hold his lightsaber...! (😏 ...ladies...!)

This seems to work since Osha is engaging him in conversation. But Osha has seen Qimir in action, and knows that there is no possible way for her to defeat him directly.

Osha has the lightsaber, but Qimir holds all the power here.

Despite that, Osha calls him out many times on his choices.

"You killed Jecki."

"You killed Yord."

"I'm not my sister. I'm not so easily corrupted."

Osha never takes her eyes off her objective: to escape Qimir, get back to Sol, and confront her sister for her crimes.

Osha's Fatal Flaw

Mae and Osha are binary opposites in their personalities and motivations. Where Mae is community-minded, Osha is independent. Where Mae values tradition, Osha values freedom. And where Mae tries to repair frayed relationships, Osha does not forgive those who cross her.

It is this last trait that proves to be the fatal flaw that leads her down the Dark Side.

Osha. Does. Not. Forgive.

When Osha first saw Mae as an adult, she shot her!

She didn't try to reason with her. She didn't try to help her escape. She didn't say "how did you survive?" or "I missed you."

She just fired.

But you know what? Maybe emotions were running high, right? The moment was very heated, so spontaneous violence like that could just be a one-off thing, surely?

Except that the second time they meet, Osha tries to arrest Mae without listening to her story.

And the third time they meet, Osha is downright raging and trying to kill Mae...

... which is a little confusing to Mae because she's trying to help Osha!

And it is Osha's inability to forgive which leads her to committing her first murder, when she finally learns that Sol had lied to her for years.

Osha falls to the Dark Side all by herself, of her own volition.

Doomed Romance

After she kills Sol, Qimir continues to use gentle touch with Osha, pursuing his seduction of her.

But when Mae asked Osha "what do you want, Osha?", she didn't reply with "I want to be with Qimir."

She said:

"Let [Mae] go, and I will train with you."

It was a bargain, for which she offered Qimir what he wanted most: a pupil who accepts him.

Osha is signalling that she cares for him. But she doesn't.

Osha cares for her sister. And Osha does not forgive.

She remembers that Jecki and Yord were her friends, and they had nothing to do with Sol's crimes. They were innocent, and he killed them when he went out of his way to engage the Jedi in combat.

Osha is playing Qimir, just as Mae did. She will learn from him to use the Force, and then take those teachings to fulfil her own goal of rescuing Mae and restoring her memories.

Qimir will learn the truth of their relationship one day, and on that day, like all Sith masters and apprentices, he will kill her, or she will kill him.

(because that is not the face of a happy couple)

[djarins-cyare]

Hi, thanks for checking out my writing!

I write purely for Din Djarin (though I read and rec other Pedro Pascal characters and other Star Wars media). Whilst not all my stories include smut, they usually contain adult themes and language, so they’re suitable for over-18s only 🔞

My writing is extremely detailed and character-oriented, and I research and proofread/edit thoroughly. I never start publishing something until it’s fully written. As a result, producing content takes me a while, but I hope this ensures that my completed works are high-quality, immersive experiences for my readers.

Please feel free to join my tag list.

**The emojis assigned to each fic below indicate moods rather than specific genres and are open to interpretation**

PUBLISHED WORKS:

🔷 Be-All And Endor [406,690 words]

My magnum opus; this is a novel-length slow burn set after season 2. Din has a bounty on Endor and gets more than he bargained for when Reader accidentally almost runs him down with her speeder in the forest. Over 1.6k kudos on AO3. [😍+🥰+🥵]

🔷 Never Look Down [13,160 words]

Two-part mini-series set on Nevarro after season 3, wherein Din falls for Grogu’s babysitter but resolves not to tell her… until a drunken misunderstanding results in some revelations. [😍+🫣 and a hint of 🥵]

🔷 Din Djarin: The Contractor [1,001 words]

An imagine-turned-one-shot that evolved from pics of Din holding a toolbox and the memory of Joel telling Ellie he used to be a contractor. Reader needs a repairman, and guess who shows up… [😡->😈]

🔷 The Long Goodbye [45 words]

Flash fiction in 280 characters or less. An examination of why Ahsoka came looking for Din in ‘Chapter 13: The Jedi’ rather than waiting for him in Calodan like he asked. [🥺]

CURRENTLY BEING WRITTEN:

🔷 Hush

[snippet 1] [snippet 2] [snippet 3] I was assigned the genre ‘secret relationship’ in a roll-a-trope writing challenge, so this fic follows Din and Reader embarking on a clandestine liaison that they have to hide from Karga… because Reader is our favourite High Magistrate’s niece. Multi-chapter; features sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and furtive smut. [😏🤫🥵]

🔷 Held Is The Seed

[details & snippet] [snippet] A four-part smutty series. When a guy in a cantina claims Mandos make poor lovers, Reader leaps to Din’s defence and lists several ways in which he could, in fact, be exceptionally talented in bed. Din overhears and later offers to prove her assumptions true one by one. [😍->🥵]

🔷 To See A Thousand Things

[details & snippet] [snippet - 1st one down] An extremely smutty, angsty piece based on five firsts and one last. Din has something casual going with a gun shop owner over the years, but they both discover that anything long-term will inevitably transform into something that runs deep. [🥵+😭]

🔷 Aruetiise

[snippet - 2nd one down] One-shot based on the idea of Din and Reader both coming up with reasons they can’t be together, none of which are the same and all of which are idiotic. An argument finally leads to a conversation about it. [🥺…🥹🥰]

🔷 Final Sanctuary

[snippet - 3rd one down] [snippet] Smutty one-shot (will be lengthy) based on a fantasy Din has when his shipmate spills white dip on her chin, and how he manages to figure out flirting and make his fantasy a reality. [🥵->🥰]

🔷 Din Djarin In Jarringly Domestic Situations

[details & snippet] [more details] Space romcom involving a series of encounters in which Din meets the woman of his dreams, but each time, it’s in an embarrassing or awkward situation. [😍😳🥴]

FIC REQUESTS:

I’m very open to requests because having a deadline and someone waiting on me often helps motivate me to finish!

I’m flexible in terms of content, but please bear in mind that smut takes me a lot longer to write, and I lean towards fluff rather than angst (though I’m not opposed to the darker end of the scale). I’m also not a fan of breeding kink (sorry, I firmly believe Din is a reluctant father who loves Grogu but would have to be brought around to the idea of one day having his own) or daddy kink. Otherwise, please feel free to suggest anything that takes your fancy!

Ideally, short prompts or ideas for one-shots are best because I’m the girl who got over 400k words out of “slow burn set on Endor”, so the more complex your request, the bigger the undertaking, the longer it’ll take me to research and write (and the longer you’ll be waiting).

HOW TO SUPPORT ME:

If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider heading over to AO3 and adding some kudos to my fics there. Also, please consider reblogging any of my fics/series masterlists here on Tumblr. Both these actions increase visibility and help new readers to find my work long after publication. I don’t have a Ko-fi because I value online encouragement and marketing assistance more than cold, hard cash.

I also see spinoff media as the highest form of flattery, so if you feel like doing anything creative based around the universes I write, rest assured I’ll be here cheering you on and crying over how much I love you! It’s my dream for my writing to inspire others, whether it’s playing in my sandbox with me or crafting something of your own.

Thanks for your support; it means the galaxy to me! 💙🩵

🌀 I do NOT consent for my stories to be copied/reposted on any other site, nor stolen, scraped or reworked by AI 🌀

[nightoncydonia]

It's WIP Wednesday again so I thought I'd share a little bit of a thing I've been working on for a while now. I don't know if or when it will ever see the light but well, we'll see...

“I can’t lose you, Obi-Wan. I know it’s not the Jedi way, I know you would lecture me about attachment and how there is no death, only the Force and I should learn to trust It, but I just can’t.” His eyes were brimming with unshed tears, the expression painted on his features so serious as his hands faintly shook in Obi-Wan’s grasp. “I can’t lose you.” He repeated softly, a murmur that broke Obi-Wan’s heart in his vulnerability, as if Anakin was still that trembling nine year old who fisted at his robe, the flames of Qui-Gon’s pire dancing on his face.

“I can’t lose you.” Anakin said again, tears finally spilling down his cheeks as he let go of Obi-Wan’s hands to hold onto his tunics instead and bury his face in the other man’s chest, body shaking from sobs. Obi-Wan froze for a moment, a retort about what his old Master could possibly still do for Anakin dying on his lips as the full force of the younger man’s fear finally settled in.

Anakin was terrified, holding onto Obi-Wan as if he was afraid he would slip from his fingers were he to loosen his grasp, and could Obi-Wan really blame him? Would he react so differently were their roles reversed? Was it still so important to pretend Anakin wasn’t everything for him, that he wasn’t attached beyond repair and had been for quite some time, perhaps even before the war had started?

So he held Anakin back, circling him with his arms and pressing him closer against his chest, kissing the crown of his head and burying his nose in his golden curls. And Anakin squeezed him back, harder, lifting his head until his face was a breath away from Obi-Wan’s. His eyes were glassy and red and his voice quivered as he whispered against Obi-Wan’s lips “Take me, please.”

Obi-Wan’s conflict was, once again, short lived. Because Anakin was right, come tomorrow night he really could be dead, as a matter of fact both of them could, so why deny themselves further?

Would taking him now make that much of a difference? Would it really matter so much that he finally gave in to his desires and cross this last bridge when he already loved Anakin with every fibre of his being? What was sex when they had already belonged to each other in every possible way, when they already lived inside each other’s mind through that bond neither of them had ever dared to sever?

And so he complied, kissing the salty streaks of tears from Anakin’s cheeks, devouring his soft mouth until they were both breathless and shuddering with desire. They stumbled towards Obi-Wan’s bedroom, peeling each other’s clothes off with urgency and kissing fervently, but when Obi-Wan had Anakin splayed naked on his bed he slowed his pace, taking his time.

It was the first time they came together like this and it might very well be the last, so Obi-Wan was bent on committing every single detail of Anakin’s body to his mind, on cataloguing each and every sound that left the other man’s lips, every sigh and moan.

His fingers trembled as he ever so gently carved a space for himself in Anakin’s body, slowly opening him up with the utmost care. And when he finally pushed into him, he let go of all his shields, all his defences, taking his pleasure and giving equally until they became one, hands entwined and heated whispers of love on their lips.

In the dark of the night, with only the moons of Coruscant as their witnesses he had promised to never leave him, that once he returned victorious from having defeated Grievous they would live their truth, leave the Order if it came down to it, because there was nothing, nothing in the entire galaxy, not even the Jedi, that to Obi-Wan mattered more than Anakin.

And Anakin, in turn, had told him that he loved him, that he wanted nothing more than to be with Obi-Wan for as long as Obi-Wan would allow him to and that he dreamed of raising his children with him and grow old together and Obi-Wan’s heart had swelled with more love than he could possibly hope to contain.

So it spilled across their bond, enveloping them both in warmth and light for what they prayed wasn’t the last time.

But oh, how cruel could the Force be.

[saviinika]

Just a boy standing in front of a boy

Last WIP wednesday before @codywanweek and I'm eeeeeeeeee with excitement. The clip is from a hurt/comfort fic; Cody is hurt, and Obi-Wan is leaving him voice journals so he doesn't feel like he's missed anything while in the bacta tank. Because that's what totally platonic colleagues humans do for one another.

---

“Is now a good time to tell you that as a result of my year with the Duchess during my Padawan days, Iam fluent in Mando’a? I suppose better late than never, really. I apologize for deceiving you and your brothers for so long, or making it seem like there was a necessity for private conversations around me. It was certainly never my intent; it just never seemed like a good time to tell you, especially when many of the topics of discussion were clearly not meant for my ears. I can’t say I blame you for the cold shoulder you gave both her and I during our whole escort fiasco evading Death Watch. I should have been more open about my pre-existing relationship with her. Hmm. That’s not the right phrasing. ‘Historical relationship’, perhaps. And yes, though she did say she loved me, and at one time I thought I had loved her, I would have been miserable had I stayed with her like I wanted when I was eighteen. You make my life so much brighter, my dear. I don’t think I would be a very likeable man had we never met.”

“You know, I did like Boil’s treatise on why all Jedi should have retractible cords around their wrists to better keep track of their lightsabers. I’ll be honest, for all my repeatedly reminding Anakin and Ahsoka to hold onto theirs, I think mine has decided to run away on purpose because it likes you, darling. There’s certainly no other logical reason why I lose it so often or why it always makes its way into your hands. Kyber crystal, which makes up the heart of every Jedi’s saber, is a Force-sensitive material and as such, exceedingly rare. Jedi do not choose the crystal that powers their sabers; the crystal, or crystals, choose them. And mineseems to have chosen you too. Forgive my chuckle, it’s just that every time you return it, my crystal is humming the most pleasing song. So you see, I’m afraid the evidence is strongly in your favour. Perhaps I should consider letting you train with it. You’re brilliant, and eminently capable, so basic Soresu wouldn’t be hard to pass on. If you’re going to keep finding it, you might as well be able to wield it effectively in your own defence.”

“There’s some sort of commotion happening with Rex and your Clone Force 99. You really will have to tell me the story some day of how you managed to ensure the loyalty of those four vode. They seem so far removed from your preferred method of warfare, although honestly, you did have to get your penchant for taking on BD-1s with your fists from somewhere. Anyway, Anakin is leaving with them shortly and Kix did let me go to bid them farewell under Mace’s heavy-handed supervision. To my surprise, he commented that I was looking rested and better fed. I suppose if the Master of the Order could tell that I was wearing myself too thinly, perhaps I wasn’t doing as good a job at muddling through as I thought. Oh, Helix is here now and he wants you to know that he scoffed at me for saying that. He also says that he finds these voice notes I’m making for you ador— No, I am not telling him that. Sorry for being overly familiar there, my dear. It’s hard to do this with an audience.”

[runawrites-blog]

Not Part Of The Plan | Ch. 2 / 2 (Boba Fett x Reader)

Summary: The mission to rescue Han got uncovered and now you have to try and escape while also dealing with your complicated feelings for Boba. During the planned execution of Luke and Han, things go horribly wrong. (Female Reader) Word Count: 4,987 Warnings: Jabba's Palace Typical Violence, Arguments, Breaking-Up and Making-Up, Presumed Character Death (Boba), Angst, Protective Boba, No Y/N, Pet Names (Mesh'la, Cyar'ika) A/N: Unlike on AO3, I will post it in two parts instead of several chapters here. All but the last part takes place during Return Of The Jedi and the last part takes place Post Mandalorian Season 2 -- the Time Skip is marked to avoid confusion. Also while the Reader is Han's sister, her appearance is not described and they could be seen as half-siblings, so her ethnicity, height, weight and such are up to you to imagine! Have fun! Previous Chapter: https://runawrites-blog.tumblr.com/post/765792752807051264/not-part-of-the-plan-ch-12-boba-fett-x Cross-Posted On AO3 (in 6 Chapters): https://archiveofourown.org/works/36209275/chapters/90261490

---

Your escape not going according to plan was really no surprise with all the people that were sneaking around the palace, trying to bring Jabba any information and gain his favour. And the fact that after Leia had been discovered, you were found to be an accomplice didn’t really surprise you either. Now Han was sitting in a cell, you and Leia were chained up by Jabba’s throne and there was no sight of help.

But the worst had been that Jabba had sent you out as a pleasure slave to Boba that night and things did not go well. Not that you had expected a good outcome after Boba had found out that you had actually just been undercover to scout out the place – it wasn’t a far fetch for him to think that you had been using him all along. So when you were forced inside his rooms, not as his lover anymore but as someone he undoubtedly hated now, and his angry gaze fell onto you, the door shutting behind you felt like a cell’s door rattling shut.

“Why would he send you out of all people? He knows of our past and of what you’ve done!” Boba hissed angrily, glaring down at you in understandable anger. “I would have prefered anyone else over you right now.”

Although that statement hurt you knew that you were not in the position to get upset at his words. But that didn’t stop the tears that rose in your eyes. Boba just scoffed at you and shook his head before coming closer.

“Don’t you have anything to say in your defence?”

“He’s my brother.” You tried to reason, not daring to look up at him as you kept your eyes trained at the floor, fighting off the shivers that tried to make their way up your body at the cold stone underneath your bare feet. “I couldn’t stand by while he was being displayed in the palace, frozen in carbonite.”

“And you thought it necessary to use me for your plan?”

“I didn’t--”

“Don’t try to come up with an excuse now.” Boba snapped at you. “What use was I for you? Help me understand!”

You swallowed at his anger and shook your head. “No, I didn’t use you for anything! I was sent to scout out the place and find Han, but I didn’t need-- I didn’t need you for that. What I-- My feelings for you are real!”

“Why would I believe you?”

You tried your best not to let your tears fall at this situation but the tears felt so close to falling. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you and you were aware that he was rightfully upset with you but the fact that there was most likely no hope of ever gaining his love back hurt you terribly. He had told you that he had cared for you, had shown you that he really had feelings for you, had protected you and you had betrayed his trust. Boba hated you and it hurt you so terribly much.

“You-- I can’t give you a reason to-- to believe me.” You said, swallowing against the lump in your throat but a few tears still rolled down your cheeks. “But I’m telling the truth! I came here to-- to free my brother but there was a delay in our mission, so-- so I had to stay longer and while I was waiting for them I fell in love with you.”

Boba was watching you in silence and when you looked up you saw the frown on his face. Though now it was less angry and more confused than anything. But he wasn’t speaking, just watching the tears start to cascade down your cheeks.

“I know you distrust me and I know you must hate me now but-- but I just-- I really do care for you!” You pleaded quietly, bringing up your hands to grasp at your upper arms and shield yourself from the cold. “I know you’d rather have anyone but me here but-- but Jabba sent me anyway. If you’ll let me, I’ll just wait out the night until I-- until someone comes to get me in the morning.”

“You’re cold.”

Before you even had the time to confirm his suspicion, he’d turned and grabbed a blanket from his bed. In a smooth motion, he threw it around your shoulders and you quickly caught it before it fell. Confusion painted your face as more tears gathered in your eyes, though this time they were brought on by how touched you were that he still seemed to care for your wellbeing.

“No one will come to get you until the morning.” He stated calmly before he began to move around and throw a few of the bed’s pillows onto the sofa by the window. “You can stay.”

“Thank you.”

“Just take the sofa and try to warm yourself up. I may not trust you anymore and I’d be a fool to do so again, but that doesn’t mean my feelings were just snuffed out.” As if to undermine his point he began to extinguish the lights in the room. “Tomorrow, Jabba will decide what will happen to your brother.”

“Do you-- He sent that woman who betrayed him to the Great Pit of Carkoon a week or two ago. Do you think he will do the same to my brother?”

“Possibly.” Boba shrugged and went over to sit on his bed, finally looking back at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I didn’t even get to talk to him again.” You whispered sadly. “I haven’t spoken to him in years and-- and I just-- Leia freed him and then he was immediately taken away.”

“That’s his own fault for not paying Jabba back.” Boba said before lying down on the bed and eyeing you with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “I suggest you rest now. Someone will pick you up in the morning.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Just be quiet and rest.” He huffed before shutting off the last lamp and plunging the room into darkness. “You’ve got me to care for you. I still do.”

“I care for you, as well, Boba.”

“That makes no difference and you know it.”

“I do.”

---

“He is my brother!”

Boba gave a sharp tug to the chain Jabba had placed around your neck. Once more, the Hutt had sent you out to serve Boba who was on the upper deck of the sail barge. From up on top of the barge, you had the perfect view of the pit below the barge that Luke and Han would soon be thrown into. But at the tug you turned back to Boba behind you, watching him shake his head.

“There is nothing you can do. Just be glad you’re not thrown in after him.”

Panic rose in you as you grabbed onto the railing at the side of the sail barge and looked down at the Sarlacc with abject horror. After hearing Threepio translate what would happen to your brother and your friend down there, you were horrified. Thousands of years of torture for both Han and Luke, and there was nothing to be done now. You grabbed the chain and pulled at it once, gaining Boba’s attention.

“Can I not try to talk to him?”

“You tried that before.” Boba said sternly. “You tried to talk to him, tried to bribe him and nothing made a difference. If you try reasoning with him again, he might just throw you into the pit after all.”

“I don’t care.” You begged, grabbing onto the chain tightly. “Let me try.”

“I will not be responsible for you being executed!”

“I couldn’t even say goodbye to the only family I have.”

“That happens.”

Then Luke was moved into position and your grip on the railing tightened, breath catching in your throat. Han had been there for your for as long as you could remember and ever since you’d gotten to meet Luke, the two of you had become close friends, as well. The thought of them inside the Sarlacc’s guts was entirely too horrible to imagine. You couldn’t even imagine how Leia must be doing inside the sail barge. At the very least you weren’t with Jabba at the moment. But still, your fingers began to shake as you felt your throat tighten with anxiety.

“Look away.”

Boba’s voice ripped you from your thoughts and you saw that he stepped closer to the railing out of the corner of your eye, now also looking over the edge. When you eyed him for a second, the confusion on your face must have been evident because he spoke up again.

“I will tell you when it’s over if you wish to look away.”

But you couldn’t and as Luke jumped off the ledge you reflexively grabbed Boba’s arm next to you, needing someone to stabilise you. Then all hell broke loose and Luke pretty dramatically jumped up onto the cargo skiff again, catching the lightsaber Artoo had thrown him – you hadn’t even noticed the astromech coming onto the upper deck.

And just like that Luke was fighting them, hitting men left and right as a commotion broke loose. At your side, you saw Boba move, readying himself to fly down and stop the escape. But Lando noticed his movements and with the blaster, he had obtained during the fight, he managed to fire at Boba without the bounty hunter taking notice.

In a fraction of a second, you had decided that although you wanted everyone to escape, you also couldn’t let Boba get hurt and you quickly tackled him to the floor, both of you watching as the blaster’s beam shot over your bodies.

Once you noticed that you were lying on top of Boba, you quickly got back to your feet and looked over the railing to check if everyone was still alive. As your eyes found the skiff again, you saw that Luke had noticed you pushing the bounty hunter out of harm’s way and he threw you an understandably confused look, questioning why you would save the man. But then his attention was drawn back to another attacker and he turned away again, kicking him off the skiff.

“You saved me.” Boba’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts and when you turned he was coming closer, head tilted slightly to the side. “Why would you save me?”

“I still care about you.”

Boba stalled for a second before pulling you closer and tilting your chin up with his thumb. “I have a job to do. I will come back for you, Mesh’la.”

And with that he was off down to the skiff, leaving you behind on the sailing barge. You looked around, unsure of what to do when you saw a nearby guard getting ready to shoot at Lando who was now hanging off the side of the skiff, nearly falling into the pit himself. Quickly, you grabbed your chain and swung it at his ankle, effectively knocking him to the floor with the force of the metal. He dropped his blaster and you swooped in to get it. When he grabbed for a weapon at his belt you shot the man and then took a step back, watching two more guards come up the ladder.

While you managed to shoot one of them, the other managed to get a grip on you and pushed you toward the railing of the barge, attempting to throw you overboard and into the Sarlacc pit below. You had unfortunately dropped the blaster and he was physically stronger than you, completely putting his weight into pushing you over, so panic soon began to rise in you.

The chains rattling at your feet sparked an idea in you. Quickly you grabbed for the chain, careful not to let him notice, and wrapped it around the railing before taking a deep breath and letting yourself fall over the edge. The guard fell with you but unlike you, he had nothing to hold onto and tumbled right down into the pit. You held onto the chain tightly as the guards tried to reach you from the windows below.

And on top of that, another guard was up on the platform now, reaching for his blaster and aiming at you. But before he could shoot, a blaster beam hit him and he fell over the railing, just missing you as he tumbled into the pit below.

Swearing quietly you looked down, expecting Chewbacca or Luke to have fired at the man, but to your surprise, you found that it had been Boba, blaster still in hand and shoulders sagging in relief as he saw you had still hung on.

Quickly, you climbed back onto the barge and turned back to see what was going on when you realised Han had hit Boba, making his jet pack malfunction and sending him flying toward the sail barge. He knocked into the side of it and you watched in absolute horror as the man you loved fell into the Sarlacc pit. Tears gathered in your eyes and you felt your breath run cold. Your first instinct was to try and help but logically you knew there was nothing you could do to help. The tears threatened to fall and you had to pull yourself together to continue fighting.

But there was no time for grief at the moment because Lando was almost pulled into the pit by one of the Sarlacc’s tendrils, only saved by Han who was hanging on for dear life himself, Luke was crawling up the barge and an explosion shook the whole structure beneath your feet. You ran to the ladder to see what was going on just as Leia came climbing up, grabbing your hand to pull herself up.

“We need to get off this sail barge.” She urged, running to the railing. “Luke, hurry up! This whole thing is about to blow up!”

You ran after her, quickly extending a hand to help Luke up. “Why are you coming up here? I thought we wanted off this barge!”

“Han is bringing the skiff over.” He explained, readying his lightsaber to fight another guard. “Stand back!”

Everything after that passed in what felt like a fraction of a second. At Luke’s comment, Leia directed the canon at the barge. Han stirred the skiff over, Leia made a jump for it and he just managed to catch her and get her to safety. Then you felt Luke wrap an arm around you before he grabbed a rope and gave a kick to the canon, making it fire at the barge. You hung onto him tightly, pleading with him not to let you drop into the pit below. But fortunately, you soon found yourself safely on the skiff, just as the barge blew up and Lando stirred you all to safety.

“Han!” You exclaimed as soon as the shock had passed and hurried to embrace him. “Are you okay? Can you see again?”

“Yeah, I can see. I mean I managed to shoot the Sarlacc.” He joked and hugged you for a few seconds. “Are you injured? I saw you hanging off the barge. Did you get hurt?”

“No.” You shook your head and let go, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you’re back! I’m glad you’re feeling better. That night Leia got you out and they brought you to your cell, you looked like hell.”

“Thanks.” Han said in amusement before shaking his head. “It takes a toll on you to be frozen in carbonite. But I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad.”

“I hope Lando watched out for you while I was gone. I heard Jabba sent you to Boba Fett of all people. He didn’t touch you, did he?”

You stilled for a second, feeling Leia’s eyes on you and seeing Lando raise an eyebrow at you from next to Han. Even Luke looked at you suspiciously. But you just shook your head, giving Han a comforting smile and ignoring your grief as you lied to him.

“No, he didn’t touch me.”

---Time-Skip---

“We have a guest.”

You looked up at Leia and shushed her, not wanting to disturb Luke and Grogu. But she shook her head and came closer, pulling you away by the arm. You’d been busy watching Luke train Grogu for the past few hours, fascinated by the child’s powers. Once Leia had you far enough away, she lowered her voice.

“He’s here to pick up Grogu so he can spend some time with his father.” Leia explained. “You should go and tell our guest that Luke might take a bit longer.”

“Why me? Can’t you do it?”

“It’s someone you know.”

“I know a lot of people.” You mumbled in confusion, not really understanding why the person talking to whoever Din had sent needed to be you. “You have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“It’s Boba Fett.”

Your mouth fell open at that and you had to manually reach up to close it before you shook your head in disbelief. “No, he-- he died. I saw him fall into that-- into the Sarlacc pit with my own eyes!”

“It’s either him or someone that stole his armour.” Leia shrugged. “But Din said that Boba Fett would come to pick Grogu up because he himself couldn’t make it. So either way, it would be great if you could come and verify that it’s really him.”

“Why would you want me to verify that it’s Boba who came to pick Grogu up and not some impostor?”

“None of us ever saw him without the helmet, so you need to verify it.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to give away your past with Boba to her, even though you were sure she’d had some ideas on it. “What makes you think I saw him without it?”

Leia rolled her eyes lightly at that and shook her head. “I know you’ve slept with him while you were at Jabba’s palace. I saw the way he kept you close to his side, the way he protected you. And Luke told me that you saved him from Lando’s shot, so I know you actually cared about him. If anyone has seen him without the helmet, it’s you.”

“Fine.”

And with that, Leia was off and you close behind. Your heart was rising into your throat with every step you took. It couldn’t be Boba – you had seen him die. You had mourned him all alone, only occasionally getting a sympathetic glance from Luke or Lando. Yet still, you hoped that against the odds the man in his armour was really him. So when you arrived at the doors to the landing dock, you stopped dead in your tracks when through the windows to the room you saw Boba’s armour again, no longer looking as beat up as before but painted over and polished up.

“I’m getting Luke and Grogu. You confirm if it’s really him.”

You nodded absentmindedly as Leia left and then you opened the door. They swished open and the man turned to you, hands reaching for his blaster before quickly dropping when he saw that it was you. Slowly, you approached and tried to resist the urge to run into his arms. You needed to confirm if it was him first so you knew Grogu would be safe.

“You’ve come to pick up the child.” You said quietly, looking at his visor in anticipation. “Take off the helmet, so I can confirm who you are.”

Without another word, he reached to his head and unfastened the helmet, slowly taking it off and your breath stopped. It was Boba. He looked scarred, his face burned by the Sarlacc’s acid but it was Boba. It was unmistakenly him – his eyes, his face, his lips. And the smile he gave at your awe was also unmistakenly his.

“Mesh’la, did you not believe it was me?”

“How?” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes. “How are you alive?”

“Told you I would come back or you.”

And with that, you launched yourself into his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you clung to him. The tears fell from your eyes freely as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, his face falling into your neck where he took a deep, steadying breath before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back for you.”

“I can’t believe that it’s you.” You sobbed out quietly before pulling back and taking his face into your hands. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“I made you a promise, Cyar’ika.” He said softly, his hands dropping to your hips to hold you close. “And I keep what I promise.”

“I am so sorry that I lied to you. I-- I don’t even know how you can come here and give me this much love and-- when I lied to you and--”

“Stop that.” Boba’s hands pulled you closer and he shook his head. “I believe you. I had a lot of time to think it through and I trust you that you didn’t use me, alright? Would you give me another chance after I treated you so harshly?”

“What?” You asked in surprise, eyes going wild. “I lied to you. You had every right to be angry. I should be the one asking you that!”

“I would give you another chance. Will you give me one?”

You nodded quickly before pulling his face down and kissing him deeply, eyes closing as soon as he started kissing back. His arms wrapped around you now, pulling you to his body as he held you. It took all your strength not to burst into tears again as you deepened the kiss and he held you even closer, securely keeping you in his arms. It was only when you heard something being dropped behind you that you pulled apart.

“You have to be kriffing kidding me right now!”

You turned in shock to face Han who had just dropped a box of tools and was now staring at you two in disgust and shock. Before you could explain he was marching over and grabbing Boba by the collar that stuck out from his armour, just for the bounty hunter to grab Han’s wrist and pull it away from his body. But Han’s free hand grabbed the one around his wrist as he glared at Boba.

“You are kissing my sister?”

“If I were you, I would think twice about attacking the man that collected the bounty that was on your head.” Boba hissed, eyes narrowing at Han. “You don’t decide if your sister and I kiss. She decides whether or not she kisses me!”

“Listen, I have no clue how you managed to escape the Sarlacc Pit but if you put your hands on my sister again, I will personally send you back in there!”

To your dismay, a smirk appeared on Boba’s face and you knew he was just going to keep this argument going. “She decides if she kisses me or does other things with me.”

“That was entirely unnecessary, Boba!”

“Other things?” Han snapped, ignoring your complaint as he glared at Boba. “Did you sleep with me kriffing sister, Fett?”

“What about it?”

“Can you two stop it?” You hissed and tried to pull them apart, pulling Han back by his collar while pushing against Boba’s chest to make him step back. “Han, lay off him! And Boba, stop kriffing riling him up even more!”

The two of them remained quiet for a few seconds but after another attempt of yours to pull them apart, they finally separated. Han let go of Boba before turning to you, his shock still evident in his face as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“When did that happen? When did you decide to sleep with Boba Fett?”

“It happened while I was infiltrating the palace and the plan got delayed, forcing me to stay there longer than expected.” You confessed, feeling as though the truth was the only way forward. “We talked a lot and then it just sort of happened.”

“It just happened? Things like that don’t just happen!”

“That’s what I told her!”

You turned to find Lando coming into the docking bay, carrying another toolbox and grinning widely. He obviously wasn’t going to side with you and Chewbacca who was coming inside behind Lando was probably also going to side with Han. But to your surprise, Han didn’t agree with Lando. On the contrary, his face fell even more and he glared at his friend, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You knew?”

“Oh, kriff.” Lando hissed, now realising his mistake. “I promised her not to tell you!”

“He found out by accident.” You explained, eyes flicking back and forth between Han and Lando. “I sort of pleaded with him not to tell you. I knew you’d react like this!”

“I hope that by ‘like this’ you mean in a completely rational way.” Han huffed, crossing his arms as he kept his eyes trained on you. “He’s not a good person!”

Boba looked back at Han at his exclamation. “And you trying to police your sister’s life is something a good person would do? She can make her own decisions!”

“Boba’s right.” You stated, nodding at Han. “I can decide who--”

“You agreeing with him is not surprising at all.” Han huffed and turned to Lando. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me!”

Lando just shrugged at that. “I figured there was no reason to after he fell into the Great Pit of Carkoon. I thought she’d never see him again anyway.”

You eyed Lando, nodding at his words as the memory of that day and the horror you’d felt resurfaced. “So did I. I never told you after the fact because-- well, because I thought he was dead.”

Upon hearing about your grief, Boba came closer and put a hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I came back, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” You nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m glad you did.”

Han shook his head once more, pointing at Boba’s hand. “Get your hands off her!”

Boba glared back at him, bringing his other hand up to put it onto your shoulder now, effectively riling Han up even more. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“I can’t believe you!”

“All of you, cut it out!”

You felt yourself relax at Leia’s voice and looked up to find her coming into the loading dock, Luke in tow who was holding Grogu in his arms. If anyone would be able to tell Han to back down, it was her. She eyed the situation before coming closer, noting Han’s accusing finger still pointed at Boba and sighed quietly.

“So it really is Boba Fett?”

You nodded at her. “Yes, it really is him and not an impostor.”

“Good.” Leia nodded, looking at Han. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Han asked in exasperation, clearly annoyed that Leia wasn’t freaking out over this. “He slept with my sister and he’s being so-- so kriffing smug about it.”

Leia nodded at that, looking back at you. “Do you mind him touching you? Is he doing anything against your will?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“What?” Han shook his head and looked at his girlfriend. “And why are you not more surprised? Did you-- You knew!”

“I figured it out pretty quickly.” Leia nodded and sighed. “Listen, things have changed, alright? And Din sent him here, so he must be somewhat trustworthy. Besides that, your sister is an adult, Han.”

Han sighed in defeat and looked at you. “I just wish you would choose someone nice.”

“I am nice.” Boba stated from behind you, raising an eyebrow at Han and to your surprise, your brother gave a dry laugh at that.

“You stole my line.”

“See? She’s fine. And I’m pretty sure she can stand her ground.” Leia then looked at Boba again, pointing a finger at him. “If you mess up, though, I will personally come for you, am I making myself clear?”

“More than clear.”

Han sighed quietly and shook his head in dismay. “I can’t believe both Leia and Lando knew, and neither of them told me.”

That’s when Luke gave an awkward wave behind Leia. “I knew, as well.”

“How come everyone knew, but me? Chewie, did you know?” A roar from the Wookie confirmed Han’s suspicions and he groaned in exasperation. “I can’t believe it!”

“Are you good now?” You asked, reaching up to put your hand over Boba’s. “I promise you that he treats me well. I appreciate your worry but he’d never hurt me. Trust me.”

“I trust you.”

You smiled at that, leaning back into Boba who brought an arm around your waist then. He looked down at you, not paying any mind to your brother or friends. “You could come to deliver the child to Din with me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“She says that as if she was ever any good with sticking to plans.” Leia joked.

Luke shook his head and approached, Grogu held close to him, before he gave Leia a smirk. “To be fair, some of our plans did fail tremendously.”

Han just gave a small laugh at that, watching as you gently took Grogu from Luke and turned to Boba, quietly discussing something with Boba. Before entering Slave I, you gave Han a small wave and then left to buckle up the child. But before Boba could follow you, Han called out to him once more, making him look up in question.

“Treat her right, you Buckethead.”

[breakfastteatime]

Today's request is 'Sparring' for @thirteenmyspacegirl

One of the benefits of having one lightsaber that turns into two is Cal can train with Cere. Naturally he returns Cere’s half to her for which she is clearly grateful – and nostalgic. He doesn’t need to tell her she’s leaving echoes all over it; she knows him well enough by now.

He spares her blushes by not telling Greez or Merrin. BD knows, but that’s because BD can be totally trusted.

Cere’s style is very different to Master Tapal’s, mostly on account of her only wielding one blade. He can tell she’s holding back initially, finding herself again in the forms and exercises that had once been second nature. Cal’s under no illusion either – if she really put her mind to it, she’d wipe the floor with him.

However, Cere’s skills are not completely unknown to Cal. Sometimes he can match her blow for blow because Trilla never shook off her master’s teachings. Cere’s not as flashy as Trilla, but teacher and student are not always dissimilar.

…And then Cere will do something completely unexpected where Trilla would show-off, and the next thing Cal knows, he’s on the defensive, being pushed back and back and okay yeah, Cere really is a Jedi Master and Cal definitely, definitely isn’t.

Anytime they’re somewhere sufficiently isolated, they spar. They’re currently on a moon orbiting a mining world last night, training before breakfast, with BD-1 watching on from the ship’s ramp. Cere is a good teacher, open to creativity and improvisation in a way that Master Tapal was not.

“How did you keep up your skills while you were on Bracca?” Cere asks as they run through a series of Form I exercises. The idea is to disarm but not injure the other. It’s how they start every time, and Cal knows going back to childhood basics is helping him.  

“I didn’t, not really,” Cal says. “Most of what I know I either remembered from training, remembered watching at the Temple, pulled out of an echo, or figured it might work.” He dodges Cere’s slash for his hilt, sliding around her and attacking from behind. She blocks with ease. “Maybe I should create a new form, call it ‘Do Whatever Works’.”

“It’s worked well so far, but we can tidy it up,” Cere says. “Some of your moves leave you far too open. It might work on a stunned or weaker opponent, but a Force-wielder? Absolutely not.”

It’s a sad fact of life that, despite training with a Jedi Master, the focus of Cal’s training had always been defence against blasters and long-range weapons. The Jedi didn’t anticipate facing other lightsaber wielders regularly outside of contests in the dojo. Cal remembers Master Tapal speaking in those final days about how the Force felt clouded, shallow. Cal was simply too young and inexperienced to –

“Focus,” Cere calls.

She forces him back into the moment with an arcing upward swing. Cal slides back, reaching for the Force to get a read on her movements. Cere launches into a series of precision stabs, aimed at all the places she’d need to hit to disarm him. Tempting though it is to unleash a few Ataru moves and launch himself over her head, the point of training is to master one form before using another. Cal limits himself to dodges, parries and the occasional attack that Cere dodges and parries even more effectively. He can sense her urge to let loose too, really show what she can do, if Cal will just give her the right opening. Unfortunately for her, Cal was raised by Master Tapal to uphold the strictest of self-discipline, meaning if they are training Form I with all its faults, they are going to stick to Form I. 

And maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the key to this. Sheer, dogged persistence. It’s taken him this far, and he’s got youth on his side. Cere’s always complaining about her knees. Cal has no such problems…

…unless his wrist is playing up.

Alright. Today’s the day. He’s winning this.

Cal sinks into the Force, feels it flow through him. He feels his emotions rising, demanding victory. It is Master Tapal’s voice that rises to challenge him.

“Emotion – passion – is good in battle when it is in service of a noble intention, Padawan, but when that emotion becomes pride, becomes desperation to win or anger at the thought of losing, that is when you risk losing to yourself long before your opponent lands a single blow.”

Calm suffuses Cal, body falling into rhythms learned in earliest childhood. His blade’s voice sings out as he defends himself, blow for blow, until at last, there it is, a flicker of creativity, and then his body weaves itself under Cere’s Makashi blow and his hilt crashes into hers, knocking it to the ground.

“And there is the lesson,” Cere says, calling the lightsaber back to her hand. “Forms exist for a reason, and sometimes the oldest ways do work the best.”

BD-1 whoops from the ship’s ramp. Cal turns to him, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “I did it!”

Cere’s amusement doesn’t quite cover her competitiveness. “How about best two out of three?”

Before they can get started, Greez clomps down the ramp. “I’ve got breakfast ready and I ain’t taking ‘in a minute’ for an answer. You two have been at it for hours, and there’s only so long someone can listen to all the buzzing and swooshing before their sanity is threatened.”

Merrin appears at his side. “I agree,” she says through her breakfast roll. “It is too loud.”

Before he can argue, Cal’s stomach gives a loud gurgle. He sighs, takes back the other half of his lightsaber from Cere, and agrees that maybe breakfast would be a good idea. BD-1 hurries over and tells him he did a great job.

“Thanks, buddy.” Cal pats him on the head.

Cere follows him aboard the Mantis. “You’re definitely learning,” she says. “But tomorrow, we move onto a new style. And maybe change the rules.”

“Feeling creatively stifled, Cere?” Cal teases.

“It would appear so. Don’t get cocky yet, Cal. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Who’s getting cocky?” Cal asks as he pours himself a mug of caf. “That was my first win in fifteen sessions. You’re probably having a bad day.”

“I am not having a bad day,” Cere says.

“Oh, so I’m just better at Form I than you.”

“We can go again, Cal. Any time. You just say the word.”

“Hmmm, sounds like someone’s emotions are getting the better of them. Perhaps meditation would be wise.”

Cal races back off the ship before Cere can launch a tray of breakfast rolls at him.

[sjbattleangel]

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who legitimately enjoyed the sequels (especially The Last Jedi); who loved the characters of Rey Of Jakku and Rose Tico.

[sofasoap]

Sleep

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!reader 

Summary: Short drabble of  life pre-relationship. The clan of three travelling around the galaxy, still in search of Jedi for Grogu. Part of the Heartbreak series.  Companion piece of Sweet

Warning: None? Apart from two people dancing around each other, not admitting their feelings.

A/N: Second part of birthday fic to my mutual @josephquinnswhore who is just as crazy as me in loving the Space husband, Din Djarin / Pedro Pascal. I hope this fluff warms your heart :)  MASTERLIST for the previous stories to the Heartbreak series.

“Don’t wait for me. I will be gone for most of the night, I won’t return until tomorrow morning at the latest.”  Din said to you as he clipped on his armour, and picked out all the weapons from his cabinet. Doing one last check, you handed him a water bladder and a few rations to him for his hunt. You never like it when he has to be gone during the night. Never feel safe without him there, even though he assures you the security protocol and defence of the ship will keep both you and the little Pea safe.

Walking down the ramp, you hold the little green pea in your arm, seeing him off. You hold the child’s arm making a wave motion as he turns away from both of you. He paused a little before he decided to turn around again. You tilt your head, looking at him with your innocent big eyes, wondering if he has forgotten something. “..... You can sleep in my bunk tonight.” Din surprised himself with the offering. You raised your eyebrow, “ … you sure?” “It’s more comfortable and warm. It’s close to winter time on this planet, I got a few extra blankets out in the storage cupboard as well.” He patted the child on the head, as he lowered his hand, he lightly grasped your forearm, lingering there a little bit before letting it go and turning around to march into the forest. Time to concentrate. If he had kept his sight on you for a little longer, he wouldn’t have missed that flustered look and change of colour on your burning cheek.

The twin moon was setting and the third moon was peaking through as Din dragged one unconscious bounty towards the ship. Pressing the button to the ramp, he winced as it made a loud screeching sound before it started to lower. He reminded himself to ask you to lubricate  the ramp and check possible dents next time.  Throwing the bounty into the carbonite freezer before he silently moved towards the bunk. Slowly lifting the dividing curtain,  all the tension and stress from the hunt melted away as soon as he saw you, and the child who somehow has moved from his hammock into your arm, curling up in a few layers of blanket, sleeping peacefully in bed.

You stirred a bit. “... Mando? You are back.” He can hear the relief in your voice. As you started to sit up, Din stopped you. “Go back to sleep.” He whispered. “ But…” “I’ll sleep in your cot.” “You won’t get comfortable in that small cot. Plus… you just got back from the hunt. You need a good rest.” You know how bad his shoulders and back are, often seeing him silently groaning and stretching. Din waved you off, “ One night won’t kill me.” Turning his attention to the baby, you look into your arm, “He crawled in with me in the middle of night, I think he misses you.” you chuckled, adjusting your arm slightly before pulling a blanket out from you and pushing it towards Din,

“ Here, take this blanket. There’s two more on my cot. I hope that will keep you warm. Sorry to take up your bunk.” Taking the blanket, shaking his head as a gesture to stop you apologising, he quietly bid you goodnight before tucking the dividing curtain back and moving towards your cot.

Din realised you were right about the cot. After taking off his armour and trying to settle in the cot, he couldn’t get comfortable at all. On his back, on his side, lying down. He felt guilty. Is this what you've been putting up with for the months you've been with him? He prides himself to be the protector and provider for you and the little green baby, but he never once notices your discomfort nor you ever complain about it. 

“... I wouldn’t be a bother. I can take care of myself while helping you out.”  He remembers the words you said to him when you begged him for a ride off Coruscant.  You didn’t want to be a burden to him. He sighed and thought to himself as he closed his eyes, trying to at least get some rest, he will correct his mistake as soon as dawn arrives. He remembered there was a decent size town with a market not too far from where the ship had docked. 

Din disappeared again the next morning when you woke up. You wondered if the interaction from the previous night was an imagination until you saw the food bag he took on his hunt left on the crates beside the kitchenette. It wasn’t until later on in the afternoon, you and little Pea sitting outside enjoying the sun, while attempting teaching him some lessons in history ( You aren’t sure how much the little baby is taking in, but he always look at you with all his attention while you talk to him ), you saw Mando strolling back towards the ship with a big roll of some sort on his back. “Mando!” “ Patu!”  The two of you happily greeted him,“... What is that on your back? And why aren’t you resting?” “... I couldn’t sleep.” Your smile dropped. “ I am sorry.. I took your bunk space.” “ I told you. It’s fine.” Din dismisses you while putting the big roll onto your cot. Unfurling it, you realise it's a thin mattress.

“ It’s me that should apologise. I never realised you had to sleep on that horrible backbreaking thing..” As if to emphasise on it, Din pulls himself back and twists himself around a little bit, to relieve the tension. “ Compared to what I had to sleep on when I was first living in Coruscant? The cot is a luxury.”  You mumbled as you sat down on the mattress, bouncing on it a few times to try out the comfort level. It’s very soft. And warm.

“ … Thank you Mando.” Smiling as you notice his shoulder visibly relaxed, nodding to you he turned around, picked up the baby and went off to unpack the other supplies he got on the shopping trip.

That night, you snuggle into your cot with new mattress on it, and pull the blankets up and inhale deeply, you secretly swapped one of the blanket Mando often uses, you never admit to him, but you always take his blanket and wrap it around yourself when he is away on the hunt, his earthy and metal scent lingering on the blanket always gives you comfort, putting you at ease. That little part of you, imagining his strong arm, wraps around you. Keeping you safe and warm.

You slowly fall asleep wishing he will really put his arm around you, whispering words of comfort and love. 

Sorry this ended up to be cheesy as. I had ideas in my fic but as soon I started typing? my brain had other ideas LOL

tag : @harriedandharassed

@frogtits1 @memester-png

@jake-g-lockley

@novaethecosplayer

@foxgirl95

@gloryekaterina

@varientlyvisual

@flowersgirl02 @untitledarea

[rexmeshlasblog]

It’s easy if you’d do it right

Commander Cody x Jedi Reader

Click here for part 2

Summary: Commander Cody notices that the Jedi Reader has problems with shooting with a blaster and insists on teaching…but it takes a turn he didn’t see coming.

Word count: 1259

Warnings: feelings, fluff, mentions of war, use of Y/N, fmc, mentions of loss, intimate moment, (a bit) cuteness, lots of sexual tension, mocking Commander Cody, use of blasters and teaching, open end but there could possibly be a part 2

A/N: I don’t know how I wrote this, but I like how it came out. Let me know what you think and if you’d like a part 2. Enjoy.

„Kriff, it’s impossible to shoot with that thing“, I mumbled under my breath. When I was out with Fives and Echo from the 501st Battalion a while ago, we made a bet. They battled me that I wasn’t able to shoot with one of their blasters and, confident as I was, I said I could easily shoot as good as them, maybe even better. They just laughed at me and now I understood why. Why they learned how to use it within such a young age. Shooting with that thing was kriffing difficult. This really wasn’t quite as easy as it looked like. But they shot the clankers with such elegance that one could quickly imagine that you’d do just as well.

That’s how I ended up in the trainings room on the cruiser. At midnight. Trying to shoot in the middle of my target, but failing miserably. Turns out watching someone doing it and copying it wasn’t able for everything. Especially not with one of these blasters.

The bright light were slowly getting on my nerves while the white walls and the targets seemed to laugh at me. I would do the same if I were an outsider watching me. I never failed that much in my life before.

“Maybe I hold it wrong“, I mumbled to myself. Scanning the DC-15A with my eyes up and done. The black color shining bright. It was a new one I bought.

“You hold it wrong”, someone behind me agreed. I turned around blaster pointed at the person. The Commander just holding his hands up in defence. “I’m not here to criticise you, General.” A slight grin could be seen on my opposite. A grin I knew all to well, because I did everything to be able to see it.

“It’s you.” Cody. The last man in the galaxy I wanted to see me fail. The force was hilarious as always.

I took my weapon down and turned back around to the targets. It was embarrassing that he saw me how I failed doing such an easy task he did daily and with a confidence only he had. A confidence I always admired.

“You need help with that?” He asked as I sensed that he moved closer. Almost standing directly behind me. Almost touching my body. I felt his breath in my neck and a shiver ran down my spine. Kriff Cody.

“Yeah, I’m trying since an eternity, but I’m not able to do it right. It’s so confusing.” The frustration in me was clear to hear. Also to Cody who chuckled.

“Here, let me just.” The next second I felt his hands correcting my stand. Cody’s practiced hands went from my hips to my legs and shoulders, before he rested one of them on my waist. A tingling feeling was everywhere left where his hands had brushed me.

He gently squeezed my waist while his thumb was caressing it with slow circles. My breath hitched and my head went blank. Not one thought left. All I could sense was Cody. His hands on me. How he touched me and how he could possible touch me. But he wouldn’t cross the line? Would he?

“Now, eyes on the target”, his voice sounded raspy and was closer to my ear than I’ve ever imagined it to be. I felt his breath on my ear and it spread goosebumps all over me. It was hard to get back to reality while he was so close to me. Touching me. I slowly lifted my hands with the blaster in them, but it took more strength than something normally needed.

“Try to focus.” Cody reminded and his breath tingled. He would be the death of me. How should I focus when he was so close to me? Did things that weren’t allowed? Or was this allowed? But also why did I feel that way when I knew these feelings were forbidden? I knew that I liked him more than I should. I formed an attachment to him, but not just an attachment. I developed feelings within deep under my gut.

His hands switched places the one before around my waist now on my hand and the other one found it’s way around my waist. He corrected how I lifted the blaster, before he held onto my hand. His bigger hand covering mine. Holding it to keep me steady.

“Now you’re ready to shoot. Do it.”

Usually I was in charge, cause I was, besides Master Kenobi, one of his Generals. But somehow his command did something to me I couldn’t imagine. And I was sure that he knew. Cody knew that my stomach flipped in the best way possible. And that time it wasn’t because of his hands on me.

The next second I pulled the trigger and the blaster shot went on the target. Hitting perfectly in the middle. I knew that was Cody’s doing. Even with a burden like me he could shoot as perfect as always.

“Good job, Mesh’la.” I heard him breathe while squeezing my waist again. Hand wandering slowly deeper. I suppressed a moan which wanted to come from my lips. Mesh’la where did that come from the usual calm and restrained Commander?

“I’ve learned from the best.” I sighed back to him. My head falling on his shoulder and my hand with the blaster, to the side of my body. Wasn’t able to hold it any longer. My waist leaned into his touch while I tried not to lose the focus completely, but that was a battle I was pretty sure I’d lose.

Cody chuckled while his hand on my waist wandered slowly deeper, “Yeah? Who’s that? Would like to meet them one day. May I could learn something as well.”

“I don’t think that.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I think you don’t need anyone to teach you. You already do anything in the most perfect way.”

Cody’s breath grew heavier and I felt how he and his emotions switched by his force signature. I felt something that I never felt on him before, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“You know, General, that’s always the thing I thought of you, but now I saw you here. Failing at the task on shooting with a blaster. A thing everyone around me was always good at.” I felt his grin against my neck while his hand now rested on my stomach. “But no worries. That’s what I’m here for. To help you out like a good Commander does.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. Why was he like that.

“But for now I think you should go rest. It’s late and we have a mission tomorrow.”Cody’s hand took the blaster from me while I was still pudding in his arms. I didn’t want him to step away. He should stay. With me. And don’t stop whatever this was between us.

“Cody I-.” The beeping of my comm interrupted me. I slightly jumped at the sound. Out of Cody’s touch. The moment between us, officially over.

“I’m needed at the bridge”, I mumbled more to me than him after I had checked the breaker.

“You shouldn’t let General Kenobi wait then”, was all he said. His beautiful face didn’t show anything of all what happened a few minutes ago. Back was the soldier. The Commander.

With a simple nod I started to walk away from him. Feeling not as confident as normally. He had awakened something inside me. And I knew that it changed things between us as well.

[valeriansunset]

The Training Facility

Luke Skywalker x Ezra Bridger

SUMMARY: Luke Skywalker has never been good at making friends. Until he meets Ezra Bridger.

WORD COUNT: 1.07k

Luke swung his padawan braid behind him, still getting used to the odd feeling of the tail-like braid against his neck. Today was finally the day that his parents let him and his sister take the next step in force training. Not that Anakin needed as much convincing then Padme, forever concerned about the well-being of her reckless children - and husband. In Luke’s defence, Leia was more the type to go ahead and do something rash, but his sister had the impressive ability to manage to drag Luke into trouble.

Speaking of Leia, she was striving ahead, ready to meet up with her new Master and the twin's toygrota Aunt, Ahsoka Tano, for her first taste of training. Ahsoka was the perfect master for Leia, both similar in personality and lightsaber formations. The council was wary, at first, of having people close to the twins become their mentors. The idea that the Jedi were now allowed to have attachments - healthy attachments - was still new, only changing once Luke’s father managed to get the upper hand on the hidden Sith Lord, Palpatine, and revealed his secret relationship with Luke’s mother, Senator Padme Amidala. However, the council eventually caved, not allowing Anakin to train his children but the two Jedi closest to him. Aunt Ahsoka and Uncle Obi-Wan. The latter decided to take things slower with Luke than Ahsoka is with Leia, tasking him with the difficulty of getting to know the other Padawans in the order.

It’s not that Luke didn’t necessarily know the other Jedi his age. He often prefered to spend his time in the library or fixing droids with his father or shadowing his mother as newly-elected Chancellor. It was much easier than making new friends for himself - most people he knew were through his sister, always the opposite. Thus here he was, in the midst of the training room. No library, no father, no mother, no master, no sister to help him break the ice.

Fifteen years old and absolutely no socialising skills. Luke was sure that Jedi needed to know how to talk to the general public during missions.

Luckily for Luke, he didn’t have to make much of an effort. The slow buzz of the safety-first training lightsabers provided a nice amount of background noise that Luke didn't have to zone in on any particular conversation. Luke settled on watching a battle between two Padawans he was sure he vaguely recognized.

The fight didn’t last long, one of the two boys clearly had the upper hand, his blueberry-like hair matching those from the planet Lothal. Luke remembered a trip there he had taken with his mother a few years ago - a diplomatic mission that the council had approved the twins to go on. A learning experience, as Padme so kindly put it. Luke was lucky his mother was so skilled at debate.

The boy had a green lightsaber, the same colour as Luke’s own weapon. He used a skilled strategy to gain the upper hand, tripping the other boy over, lightsaber discarded. Luke couldn’t help but wonder which Jedi Knight was this Padawan’s master. If anyone, Luke assumed they would be friends with Luke’s father - the strategy displayed seemed like something that would appeal to Anakin Skywalker. It was especially similar to Luke and Leia’s secret sessions with him - yet another secret from the council, of course.

‘’Like what you see?’’

Luke looked up, startled at being interrupted from his thoughts. It was the boy with the blueberry hair, who sat facing him. A small smirk was building on his face.

‘’I was only trying to figure out where I’ve seen that fighting style before. I can’t place it’’ Luke replied, trying not to make eye contact. He almost wished he spent more time around his peers. He couldn’t imagine Leia ever slipping up on a face. She had this uncanny ability to remember obscure details about people. However annoying it seemed to Luke over the years, it felt very useful now.

‘’Probably from my master. Caleb Dume.’’ The boy said, spinning his deactivated lightsaber around his fingers and tossing it in the air. Luke was glad for something to focus on other than the boys piercing eyes. ‘’I know you.’’

‘’Everyone seems to, unfortunately’’. Being the son of the famed star-crossed lovers of the republic came with a lot of unprecedented recognition. It’s not that Luke hated it, but it always seemed to be the case that a lot more people knew Luke than Luke knew them. He was always afraid of accidentally forgetting the name of some senator who knew his mother and making a fool of himself. ‘’Caleb Dume? I know him, he is friends with my Aunt- well, my sister's master, Ahsoka Tano. You know, that makes a lot of sense. I think I remember Leia mentioning you, you're-’

‘Ezra Bridger’

‘‘Right.’’ Luke didn’t think he should mention that Leia had once gone on a rant to him about Ezra’s fighting style - ‘unpredictable and absolutely no formation’. Luke also didn’t think he should tell Ezra that he had defended him to his sister - ‘But isn’t that a smart move, enemies can pick up the Jedi moves. Somehow, Luke didn’t think that was a good conversation starter.

‘’Your sister? Leia Skywalker right?’’ Ezra continued. ‘’How come I never see you around? I almost thought Leia was completely making up this twin brother of hers.’’

Luke smiled at the idea of Leia telling stories about her and Luke. Hopefully, it’ll make it easier to bridge the gap between himself and the other kids here.

‘’I guess I don’t get out too much.’’ Luke chuckled. ‘’I am not very good at making friends without Leia around.’’

Ezra raised his eyebrows, standing up with another spin of his lightsaber. ‘’Oh really, what do you think just happened? Come on, lets duel.’’ He held out his hand expectantly.

Luke frowned. That was… surprisingly easy? Ezra seemed to easy going, ready to talk to anyone. It was almost comical, the way he was the exact opposite of Luke. Then, the feeling of relief washed over him. Luke could tell Uncle Obi-Wan all about this encounter. His careful Uncle may let him take further steps in his training now. Well, what was even better than pleasing Obi-Wan was having someone to talk to in the training room. Luke may even end up enjoying going down to the recreational Padawan areas.

Luke took Ezra’s hand.

[kemendin]

Shattered Sanctum

So! As of this week, I have officially been writing what I’ve been calling Fortress Funtimes - pre-Echoes of Oblivion ‘current’ story with a large flashback segment to, you guessed it, Caspian’s experiences on the Emperor’s Fortress - for a whole year!

This thing is sitting at roughly 40k words right now, and is nowhere near done. Obviously I’ve been working on a lot of other, shorter stories in between, and there has been a lot of strugglebussing over FF, mainly because I’ve never tackled such a long and plot-heavy story before. I have no idea when I’ll cross the finish line on this one.

But - I’m honestly really proud that I’ve kept at it for a whole friggin year, folks! So I thought I’d post one of the earlier chapters as it stands now - not real spoilery except for the canon JK story, but it’s one of my favourites so far.

“By my master’s command - you must die.”

The Emperor’s sanctum sings with the sounds of battle as Lord Scourge, the Emperor’s Wrath, drives his scarlet lightsaber at the two Jedi Knights who, against all odds, have overcome the fortress’ defences to strike the final blow for victory.

Or so they think. They are, in fact, devastatingly mistaken.

One is a young woman, fair-skinned and with auburn hair that flares brighter whenever she dodges through a pool of stark red light. Kira Carsen, former Child of the Emperor - now broken free, yet still fresh in her role as a Knight. 

She is eager, driven, and skilled, but she lacks experience, and it shows in the way she parries and thrusts with her blue-bladed saberstaff. She puts too much of herself into each strike, believing too fervently that she can win, must win, at any cost. It’s a common weakness of younger Jedi, particularly when facing Sith opponents, and Scourge knows how to use it against her. More than once he offers her an opening in his defences, and then sends her staggering back as she goes for the feint and is instantly repelled.

The other Jedi is only slightly older than Carsen, but he is proving himself a noteworthy combatant nonetheless. His green-gold blade has intercepted several strikes meant for his companion, as he puts himself between Carsen and the Sith like a challenge.

Caspian Serapis, the so-called Hero of Tython. By no means the most formidable duelist that the Wrath has ever faced, nor the strongest in the Force, and yet he stands apart. Scourge finds it curious that even here, before the Sith Emperor himself, he can detect no true sign of fear flashing within the Jedi’s pale eyes, or twisting at his dark-skinned face.

That face. Scourge had recognised it instantly on Quesh, with a jolt that wrenched him back across more than three centuries. Where once before he had drawn his lightsaber alongside two Jedi, and a throne room of the Emperor was shattered by a desperate bid to end Vitiate’s immortality. 

They had failed. But within their failure, guided by the Force, Scourge had sown the seed of victory; and here, at last, he has the first taste of its fruit. His wait for the Jedi of his vision, so long ago, has not been in vain.

That Jedi strikes at him again, several deliberate blows that force Scourge into the reach of the other knight, who whirls her longer blade at the Wrath’s side. The two work well together: their relative inexperience is offset by the harmony of their movements, each complementing the other with practised coordination. She is swift; he is tenacious. But Scourge is quicker and more relentless than both, and he deflects Carsen’s attempt to impale him from behind, sending her saber scoring harmless across the edge of his cuirass. Almost in the same motion he swings his own blade at the other Jedi, a forceful blow that staggers Serapis and loses him the few paces he’d just gained on the Sith.

The battle has been going on for several minutes now, and tugging at the back of his brain, Scourge can sense his master’s thinning patience for the display. Moreover, he can feel the rest of the Jedi strike team closing in on their position. As expected, the alterations to the security grid had impeded their progress, just enough to allow Serapis and Carsen to reach the throne room alone. But now the time for stalling is at an end.

Scourge believes in the will of the Force, in the vision granted to him - just as Revan had believed, centuries ago. But he also believes in leaving little to chance. After three hundred years of biding his time, he’s not about to let it all unravel the instant he can sense the final goal within his grasp. He’s had a taste of his opponent, and he’s not been disappointed. Now Scourge must ensure that the Jedi’s destiny - and his own - are not brought to a premature end within the stronghold of their enemy.

With that in mind - it is time to shift the tide in favour of the Jedi.

The Sith lowers his guard, then, and allows the two young knights to press their attack, driving him slowly back towards his master’s throne. It’s a plausible turn in the battle; despite their shortcomings, the Jedi have held their own remarkably well against him, and have both managed to pierce his black armour at least once. With enough time, it’s entirely possible they might have overcome the Emperor’s Wrath by their own hands.

But time is not an asset that any of them, including the immortal Wrath, still possess.

Assaulted on both sides by the fierce-eyed Jedi, Scourge makes a show of succumbing to their onslaught at last. He keeps his focus on Serapis as their lightsabers flash and strobe in deadly reflections across the polished floor, now marred with the glowing scars of their fight. He feels Carsen dart in behind him again, trying to deal an incapacitating blow while his back is turned - and for an instant his pride reasserts itself. No, he snarls inwardly. There is now only one in this galaxy he will allow himself to submit to.

He snaps round, catching her blade with his own and twisting it away with enough momentum to send the weapon spinning out of her hands. Before she can recover he strikes at her with the Force, sending her tumbling away after her weapon. Her cry of surprise echoes through the cavernous chamber.

But he’s left himself vulnerable before Serapis, and an instant later pain sears through his body as the Jedi’s verdant blade plunges through one side of his armoured torso. Not a death blow - even fighting his way through the fortress, this Jedi in particular has seemed averse to killing - but it is more than enough to drop Scourge heavily to his knees, his own lightsaber falling from his hand.

The pain of the wound lances through him as he fights to catch his breath; a sweet, exquisite agony anchoring him to his flesh where usually there is only a void. He relishes it, he revels in it, even as he kneels and bows his head before the vision of his destiny.

“You’re beaten,” says Serapis flatly. The tip of his lightsaber hums warily near Scourge’s throat. “It’s over.”

No, Jedi, thinks Scourge. It has only begun.

The Sith lifts his head again, staring up impassively into the face that had, for a brief time, hovered every night in his dreams, before his dreams themselves were stripped away for good.

“You are nearly the Jedi’s finest,” he says calmly, and pauses for a fraction of an instant. “It is not enough to save you.”

“We’re not the ones who need saving.” Carsen has picked herself up and limped over to stand beside her fellow knight, taking a moment to kick Scourge’s lightsaber out of reach in a decidedly petty act of retaliation.

Serapis is breathing hard, his brow gleams with sweat, but otherwise he is still impressively controlled. “We’re here for your master, not his lapdog,” he tells Scourge tightly. “The others will be here in a moment. If you want to live, you won’t interfere.”

Scourge narrows his eyes, and his lip curls at the Jedi’s arrogance. That, he decides, is something they will have to work on.

“Even in defeating me, you haven’t earned an audience with him,” he replies softly. “Be careful what you wish for.”

But even as he says it, he senses his master’s presence stirring, casting a shadow through the sanctum. He watches as the other Jedi invaders arrive and rush through the door, only to draw up short, buffeted back by the sheer, overwhelming darkness of the Sith Emperor. Carsen shrinks back, her gaze wide. Only Serapis stands his ground, his face taut as he raises his eyes to the Emperor.

Good, thinks Scourge. He will need that resolve.

A dark figure unfolds itself from the throne suspended like a drop of blood on the precipice before the Jedi. The Emperor is a void, faceless and unfeeling, and yet his disdain radiates throughout the sanctum.

“Misdirected passion. Such a waste.” His voice is cold beyond measure - not the chill of ice, but the emptiness of the space between stars.

The leader of the Jedi team is a Kel Dor master who now pushes forward, struggling against the weight of the Emperor’s condescension. “It will not be a waste, if you cooperate,” he says. “Please accompany us to Tython.”

In that moment Scourge wishes he could remember how to laugh, because even with his life still held at saberpoint, the incredible audacity of this request - the ignorance - would have had him rolling on the floor.

“An infantile display, Tol Braga,” says the Emperor, his tone hollowed with contempt. “Reckless pride, limned by self-righteousness. You have been a fleeting amusement. Nothing more.”

“You’re wrong.” It is Serapis who speaks this time, lifting his chin in defiance. “We’ve done what no other Jedi could do. We’ve infiltrated your hidden fortress, broken through your defences, and defeated your Wrath.” He flourishes his lightsaber towards the Sith still knelt at his feet, his voice hard. “One way or another, we’ll bring an end to this. To you, and to the poison you spread throughout the galaxy.”

A fine speech, thinks Scourge, but that is all. Brazen words that hold no basis in the reality of this situation. 

With the Jedi distracted by their futile attempts to negotiate, the Sith shifts lightly in place. He can feel the biochemical implants embedded in his body already at work, mending muscles and organs and skin where Serapis’ lightsaber had scarred him. In only a short time, he will be fit to fight again. But he doesn’t expect to need to. No, the Jedi, all of them, have already lost, and the pitiful part is - they can't even see it.

The Emperor leaps forward from his throne and descends to the metal platform below, bearing with him all the weight of a dying star. The impact of his feet hitting the floor sends ominous shudders through the throne room as his dark visage turns its weight upon Serapis.

“You mistake me for your own weak flesh. I do not end.”

He reaches out, grasping with one black-gloved hand. Serapis gasps suddenly from where he stands above Scourge, his eyes going wide and his grip on his lightsaber faltering.

 “You stand there because I allow it. Because I do not fear. But now - now you will know nothing else.”

The Emperor’s words sound like a death knell through the chamber, and almost too abrupt to follow, Serapis is cast forcefully back. He slams into the polished floor and goes skidding away, coming to rest at the feet of his fellow Jedi.

“Cas!” cries Carsen, and she rushes recklessly towards the Emperor, only to be thrown after the other knight.

Scourge drapes an arm casually across his knee as he watches the other Jedi igniting their lightsabers, watches Serapis and Carsen pulling themselves to their feet. Admirable of them to keep trying, but too little, too late. He already knows how this will end. He knew before they even set foot within the fortress. They are not the first to have foolishly made this attempt.

The Emperor spreads his hands, and the air itself seems to darken, before a crackling cascade of Force lightning engulfs the far side of the room. Unprepared and overwhelmed by the Emperor’s power, most of the Jedi fall after only a few moments, their scorched bodies thudding limply to the floor, one by one.

But at the front edge of the storm, Serapis has caught the tongues of lightning against his blade. Teeth gritted in desperation, he tries to force ahead towards the throne, fighting to hold the Emperor’s will at bay. He gets in one step. Two steps. Three. Scourge’s gaze is rapt with attention as he observes the young Jedi’s trembling form. He has to concede - he is impressed. He’s not seen such resistance to the Emperor’s power since Revan.

Four steps. Five -

But here, in the heart of the Emperor’s fortress, the twisting torrent of the dark side is still too strong. Serapis’ hoarse scream is lost in the storm as it closes in around him, burning through his armour and clothing and into his flesh. Only steps away from Scourge, the Jedi falls to his hands and knees, and then collapses into unconsciousness. His lightsaber clatters down beside him as the sound of the tempest sucks away into ringing silence.

The Emperor’s Wrath at last rises to his feet, straightening the fall of his cape as behind him, his master surveys the singed bodies strewn across the smoking floor.

“You are mine.” 

The Emperor’s voice echoes through the sanctum as it wraps itself around the fallen Jedi, seeping into the cracks of their scattered minds. Even Scourge feels the edges of his awareness crumbling, caught in the oppressive cloud of his master’s will.

”You exist only at my command. You are my instruments - servants, slaves, weapons - and you will obey.”

The last word reverberates through the chamber. Scourge has to let the weight of it pass before he can move to retrieve his lightsaber; then he strides back to face the throne, and bows deeply. Already the movement barely aggravates his injury; in a way, he wishes the pain had lasted longer.

“What is your will, my lord Emperor?”

“Take them. Train them. Turn them.” The Emperor’s reply holds such deliberate malice as he considers the Jedi. “Scatter them across my Empire and let them do my bidding.” 

Scourge flicks a glance over his shoulder, at the inert form of Caspian Serapis. “And what of this particular Jedi?” he asks, and though he cannot feel the shame of defeat at the hand of a near-novice, still he lets the thought of it rise to the surface of his mind, where his master can skim it away for examination.

The Emperor turns his attention back to Scourge.

“That one I give to you, my Wrath. See that he is broken beyond all salvation. Take the Jedi’s greatest hope, and turn him into the ultimate weapon of despair. He will be unleashed upon his own kind. And they will fall.”

Excellent. That will give Scourge the time he needs to truly test what the Force has sent him.

He bows again before his master, the very embodiment of a loyal, obedient servant.

“As you command, my lord Emperor.”

But the Emperor hasn’t finished with him.

“This is your second failure in recent months, Lord Scourge. First you return without the traitor Sajar, and now you allow yourself to be overcome by two mediocre Jedi.” The Emperor lifts his hand, and Scourge finds himself forced to his knees once more, like gravity is suddenly bearing down on him from above instead of dragging from below. A rough hiss slips from between his teeth. It feels as though every piece of his body is being slowly compressed inward, his muscles flattening, his bones cracking, his vital organs threatening to burst beneath the pressure.

“Perhaps you tire of your role, after all these centuries. Perhaps you need a reminder that you live only through my gift to you.”

With his forehead nearly touching the floor at his master’s feet, Scourge knows better than to speak. Protest, resistance - they will only bring a harsher punishment. He learned long ago that the only path forward, through this half-life beside the Emperor, is submission.

And so with the skill of long, bitter practice, he bites back his primal need to scream, as the Emperor brings him back to that day when a young Sith Lord became the Wrath, and Scourge’s blood turns to fire in his veins.

[graylinesspam]

I don't think Obi-wan is always aware that he is a part of the council.

like he knows obviously, but he's the youngest and lowest ranking member. He's definitely under the impression that he has less authority than other members. And like yeah, he's the highest ranking member of the military (as far as clones and jedi go) and he's aware of that. But the specific military brand of authority is the only one he's aware of I think?

Like for example. There are multiple times through out the clone wars when another jedi, not a council member, thinks something or has an opinion and they do the whole jedi round table thing where everyone voices their side. Then obi-wan jumps in, just participating as usual, but then everyone just bows to whatever he thought...which isn't tottally unusual in his defence. He gives great advice. It probably isn't odd to him that someone would take the simple advice of waiting and assessing a situation. That's just the logical thing to do.

BUT here's the thing. They don't want to wait. They're waiting because a council member said it was the best thing to do. If this were Anakin, he'd imminently throw whatever advice didn't suite him out the window and do whatever he wanted. He's not giving them an order after all, they shouldn't be compelled to listen to him. But see, he hasn't learned that this is why Yoda always speaks last.

Yoda learned a long time ago that he had too much sway for a friendly sugestion to be taken as such. So he waits and listens and often doesn't comment at all. Obi-wan is wise, he gives good advice, but what he sees as a friendly discussion among peers, is more often than not, him telling them what their going to do.