#it's galaxy brain time folks

[boogiewoogieweeb]

thinking about a joplittle/while you were sleeping au where jops is the lucy to ned's jack, with francis as platonic!peter and blanky as saul -i'll leave my (very) scattered thoughts on this in the tags but man the urge to plot this out is overwhelming rn...

[aquillwieldingmagpie]

So.

Houseki no Kuni finally ended and I am the farthest thing from okay between being hit by Penacony and that practically back to back.

So to avoid dealing with my emotions about it because I have way too many assignments due and instead think of crossover possibilities that will probably never happen.

Like a meeting of Phos and Aventurine in the Nihility in between Phos' journey through space and time. Either with Phos' as themselves or as their new existence as a comet, brightening up his road as he makes his journey through Nihility, maybe as a pick me up if he ever loses sight of the destination. Or Ratio's day as he waits for Aventurine to make his way back, a dazzling, shining ray of light where all dreams in Penacony are artificial and carefully controlled, when there isn't any predictions for meteor showers or the like in the Penacony of reality, something beautiful that he can tell Aventurine about later after he comes back to him.

Or he'll tell him about this young person with a hair like jewels who told him that, if it's really important to him, no matter the pain of waiting or of things left unsaid or of anything truly changing, that he should wait anyway. They only meet once and he would have intended to wait anyway, but it's a nice reminder to have.

Who knows maybe I'll write that out one day.

[schrodingers-dove]

.

[phoenixyfriend]

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

[favoriteblogonthecitadel]

Me: alright, time to sleep!

My brain: Commander Shepard probably has different names across different alien cultures and societies because even if people know what their name sounds like originally, not all species have the biological configuration (i.e. teeth, lips) to make the sh and p sounds and names are often adapted across languages anyway. Some of their names might preserve a phoneme or two and tweak the rest to fit the sounds a species favors (clicks? trills? something else?); other names give up on the original sound altogether and instead come up with a word in the target language that can be interpreted as “a shepherd,” names that mean “guide” or “watcher” or “usher.�� Names that get made up when an alien says, in their own language, “Commander Term-for-human-that-herds-animals” and then whatever that sounds like gets contracted into a shorter, more manageable name. Maybe sometimes Commander Shepard hears folks greet them and the translator says Shepard, but what they hear is something entirely different: an echo of their influence crossing cultural boundaries, a galaxy-wide awareness of the role they have to play.

[evilminji]

I... am haunted? By my Midi-chlorian theory?

Cause they are PROBABLY? Some sort of Symbiotic Bacteria?

Which was my theory. Cause "micro-organisms" is vague af? And doesn't exactly tell us what KIND? But it's probably not a mammal or some sort of fish? So like... helpful blood bacteria. Got it! No different then a good gut biome. Makes perfect sense!

Yeah, THIS one has? For some reason? A hyper sensitivity to fundamental forces of reality? But I mean? Monkeys with type writers, right? Something, somewhere, was bound to get it. Some organisms get better smell to survive, some get sensitive whiskers. The blood bacteria got jacked in to Reality's newsreel. Some low ranking admin privileges.

Still? Needs a HOST to survive though. Doesn't, itself, even really HAVE a brain.

Cause it's a Bacteria.

A Bacteria and... and Bacteria can be multiplied. Grown. Obviously? Midi-chlorians refuse to do so outside of a living body. Or the Sith and various other researchers, bother ethical and UNETHICAL, would have figured out how to crack Midi-chlorian development.

They ALSO? We can only assume? DO NOT mix. As in? Any Midi-chlorian's? Removed from the Original Host™ die off pretty promptly. (In time with the blood rotting or new body assimilating the fresh, donated, blood.) So you presumably, couldn't take from, say, Skywalker and give to an average farmer, and have that farmer become mildly force sensitive.

Even THOUGH? The BLOOD? Is where his Midi-chlorians are! So PRESUMABLY? So long as he and the farmer had compatible blood types? That SHOULD happen! Because Anikin his a SHIT TON of Midi-chlorian bacteria in his blood and the farmer would be receiving some of that High Production Strain.

Not saying the farmer would ever become a powerhouse. But? There should? Be a difference? Even if it was only temporarily.

Yet? It seems? Like Midi-chlorian strains? Just don't MIX. They split off, during development of a child, begin cultivation of their own unique colony, and never again! Shall the stains blend. I'd go so far? As to say? They probably ATTACK other Midi-chlorians in THEIR space.

Like part of the immune system. Disease, poison, parasites, and of course? Those filthy, FILTHY Other Midi-chlorian Colonies trying to encroach upon THEIR resources. Get! GET!

Which is where? All past attempts have FAILED. Because they? Had an END GOAL first, and they worked their way backwards. Approached it all with either preconceived notions or complete derision of the subject matter. Ignoring countless culture's collective MILLENNIUMS of knowledge on the subject. The observations. The notes. The folk remedies and early sciences.

Arrogant. Forgetting or outright dismissing. Because THEY were better. THEY were SMARTER. Surely, THEY would crack the code! Unlock the SECRETS of this MYSTICAL building block of the Force!

Achieve... POWER.

But? The thing IS? Primitive? Does not and HAS not? Ever meant stupid. It means young. New. Doctors and scientists, doing the best they could, with what they had. To help as many as they could. The Force? It was a mysterious thing. They knew the shape of it. The edges, but not it's depths. They could observe.

If they did X... Y occurred. Medicine A? Brought about B and C side effects, avoid it going forward. Use Medicine D. So forth and so on. Building upon the knowledge of the past.

But OH, THEY? Didn't have fancy modern medical technology! Didn't know the modern terms! So obviously they were superstitious idiots!

Thus, attempt after attempt. Failed. Usually with innocent people, paying the price. Because Power. Because Fame. Because they could rule the galaxy and go down in history books... if only these simple little bacteria would COOPERATE. But.... they don't. Do they?

Because you lack understanding.

You. Can Not. Remove Them. From The. HOST.

They DIE.

They can exsist in exactly ONE(1) environment. Their NATIVE environment. Where you found them? That's where they need to STAY. If you found them in a tree? The need to stay in THAT specific tree. Dirt? Well then! Dirt from THAT specific region of THAT specific PLANET. No moving! Cease! Desist!

Are the Midi-chlorians in a baby? The start up strains were donated! Congrats! THEY LIVE THERE NOW. They are now NATIVE to the BABY. Can not exsist OUTSIDE the baby! In fact, will immediately begin to die! Outside that baby!

This is WHY Sith Alchemy is so fucked up. Lots of live experimentation and forcing Midi-chlorians into statis. Body horror everywhere. No mas! It DOES NOT SPARK JOY.

Which?! That leads me to my point! The part of all this THAT FUCKING HAUNTS ME!!!

Bacteria can be multiplied if you give it the right food. Fuck, it WANTS to multiple. WANTS to go gangbusters. Just? Absolutely apeshit. Thick enough in the blood to turn it all into PASTE. It doesn't have a brain. It can't look around and think to itself "hey, maybe we should slow down, we're straining the environment".

It's bacteria. Ultimately, in the end, JUST Bacteria.

Yes, it may be the medium by which we connect to The Force... but IT itself? Has no intelligence to negotiate with. Just like the cells in your body. And JUST like the cells in your body? It can be a cancer. Could kill you, if something went wrong.

If SOMEONE, deliberately, made things go wrong.

All in the name of "Science".

Yes, once again, I consider the SI-OC, even as I consider Midi-chlorians themselves. What "feeds" such a bacteria? A healthy body, presumably. Connection to the Force? Kyber, most likely. Force powerful items. We know they "call" to those who are Sensitive. But! As we know? The part of your body that can actually FEEL that call? Is the Midi-chlorians in your blood, which then transfers the information to it's host.

It is the Midi-chlorians that want that specific Force object. In all likelihood, because it benefits them. That it benefits you? Is a lovely side effect. That is can be used for things? Neat! Good on you for figuring that out! It would still call you to collect pretty, shining, rocks, even if you couldn't use Kyber for SHIT. You would be COMPELLED.

NEED it.

It makes the Midi-chlorians inside you go Brrrrr. Mmm, yes, happy chemicals. Positive reinforcement! You should continue to do OTHER things that help the Midi-chlorians! Like meditation, eating well, and being around others! Go on! Hug that baby! Yeeeeeah, good energy makes LOTS of Midi-chlorian food! (Bad energy too. We are not picky. But that Does Not Feel Nice. So like.... why tho?)

So! Consider!

You have yourself an UNETHICAL AF scientist. The Board does NOT UNDERSTAND THEIR GENIUS etc etc. They have completely lost their shit. Unfortunately, they have money. And Slavery and desperation abound. There are ugly, UGLY pockets of darkness in this galaxy.

They? Have An Idea™! (It is a terrible, horrifying idea)

This scientist? Is going to crack the Secrets of The Midi-chlorian! Become Famous! It is a plot heard many times before, sadly. Just as sadly? SI-OC's parents, who were on their way to the temple, never make it there. Make no mistake! Good people. Upset, of course, that they will be losing their daughter. But? As all good parents do?

They made the decision they thought was best for their baby girl. A lifetime of being understood. Supported. Of stable food and safe beds. A good, quality education they would never be able to afford. Being able to help people someday. They love their daughter. Weep for losing her. But sometimes? Loving your child? Means letting them go.

Not forgotten. NEVER forgotten. But somewhere better then they could ever give her. Safe from those who would see their child in chains.

They do not make it.

But they do not go quietly. When those bastards come for their little girl. They make it cost dearly. Not dearly enough. Never, ever, enough. But one of the other passengers is able to get off the emergency beacon. So the Jedi will know. They will come.

It... it has to be... enough...

And it is.

And they do.

But it is not just a pirate attack. Not JUST slavers. No... no this is far more horrifying. Far worse indeed. The Shadow sent to rescue the child? Stumbles into a festering shitshow. The sort that takes a TEAM to unravel. The not-pirates are mercenaries, are closing in fast. He send his data in full, in one big lump as an emergency download.

Capture likely eminent. They're experimenting on Force Sensitives. Need Back Up.

Help.

The Doctor is, of course, DELIGHTED! An adult specimen AND a child! Comparisons and contrasts! They ramble on, unhinged, to the horror of the Shadow. Who's eyes are locked on the Crecheling in a cage. He knows help will come... but will it come fast enough?

No. Not really.

But what keeps HIM from falling? Is the Crecheling that needs to be taught. Ironic, in a way, that the very thing their capture demands and demands? Is what helps them escape, however temporarily, their cages. Meditate. They are told. Or else.

Surrounded by stolen artifacts of Light.

Meditate.

Meditate.

Imagine, if you will, a dialysis machine. It filters the blood, yes? Pumps it outside the body? A terrible process. Trial and error. How far is too far? At what distance, do the midi-chlorians begin to die? The doctor kills... so, SO many innocent. Not their prize specimens. Jedi are hard to get! But slaves? Easy enough.

The Shadow can not Fall, he reminds himself. Can not give in to his grief or rage. His horror, his sorrow. It... it is so hard. To remember the Light. In this dark place. But the Crechling helps. The kyber, the artifacts. When... not... Not IF! But WHEN he gets out of here? He thinks... he thinks he should retire. Being a Creche Master sounds lovely, to be honest.

Bright. Peaceful.

The doctor completes their horror machine. He can not stop them from putting on SI-OC. After all... HE is done growing. It filters the blood, you see. Nice and close to the body. Through and around Force rich materials, in medical grade tubing. Exposing the Midi-chlorians directly to the energy they feed off of. Filter in a mineral solution to use as building blocks.

It WORKS.

The midi-chlorians in SI-OC blood start multiplying far faster and too far greater concentration then ever before. Slowly but surely boosting their Force Sensitivity as they go. What a rousing success.

If it weren't slowly killing SI-OC.

Ever imagine? What would happen if someone reached over and slowly started turning up the sensitivity on your eyesight? Your hearing? Your taste, touch, the FEELING OF YOUR BONES? If every breath was sandpaper, and every thought an adrenaline rush?

Could you imagine? FEELING the galaxy BREATHE? Knowing for a fact that your body had been specially designed for a certain level of sensitivity? And you had been broken? Because someone wanted to see if you could handle HIGHER?

Power without the support structure? Burns everything down.

Just because something CAN be done? Doesn't mean it will work the way you fantasize it will. Reality is not a story book. Where Power comes in pretty little packages, to be bought or sold or stolen. Midi-chlorians were always Bacteria. And trying to fuck with your own micro-biomes for more power? Was always destined to end in death and disease.

For you. For someone else. For every innocent you dragged into it.

They scoffed at the "primitive" scholars who warned not to fuck with it, yet still treat it like its a mystical power to be seized.

The Shadows that finally track down the lab? BURN it wil a VENGEANCE. It is a place of horrors. And initiate SI-OC is very, VERY sick. They aren't even sure they can risk taking her to Coruscant. Too many people. Jedha? Probably safer. Luckily their library has something that...? MIGHT? Be able to help treat this?

SI-OC probably never stops Tasting Time™ and seeing the Pretty Colors™ but? At least she becomes? Largely functional? Probably needs a disability animal. One that's mildly force sensitive, so it knows when she's ~~drifting~~ again. Keep her from walking into traffic or off a landing platform.

The random bouts of prophecy and mind reading are a bit disconcerting, but like? Lay off! It's not SI-OC fault! Be nice! She can't help it! Don't be rude! D:< she basicly has tiny Force Nexus in HER BLOOD. So WHAT if she occasionally stops to admire a sunrise that hasn't existed for thousands of years? It's probably pretty!

The younglings? Very understanding. Adults are a bit creeped out. But like? Eh. Just EXTRA Jedi-y Jedi... they guess? (No, no not really. This one had a serious Force Incident. But like FUCK we're breaking rank to tell outsiders that sooooo..... Sure? Yeah. Let's go with that!)

Ironically? I bet? Anikin gets along great with her? They're team "WHY YES, THE FORCE IS VERY LOUD. WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? SO YOU CAN HEAR US! OVER THE FORCE! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THAT LOU-?". He got it naturally, she got it by getting fucked over. But? They can both go?

"Hey, you feel that thingy in the-?" *vague hand motion* and get a "oh YEAH! Wonder what's THAT'S about?". Does anyone else feel it? No. Is it obvious to THEM? Yes.

Will Anikin punch your lights out, if you mock his disabled friend? *boss music starts playing* R U N. Padme would help. Tag team, fuckeeeeer! *from the highbar with a steel chair*

Community is EVERYTHING. And sometimes? It's you, your secret wife, your brother-mentor-dad, the Clone army you adopted, and the perpetually Force High/Vaguely Brain Damaged jedi you call your best friend! And the droids. And your secret wife's body gaurd squad. And the younglings your friend-... actually? You know what? Your family's kinda big.

Awesome :)

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @spidori @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @the-witchhunter @lolottes @mayfay

[lightsidepaladin]

There's something about being able to fall asleep next to the one person you love, or merely in their presence.

When your brain knows you are safe, you are loved and you can let yourself rest.

There's something about experiencing your loved one falling asleep under your care, a feeling of connection, love and trust.

It's a silent way of being told they trust you.

When every second together is precious, with so much outside conflict and the fate of the Galaxy on their shoulders, relying on each other is more than a comfort, it's the reason they always come back alive.

There is emotion, there is also peace.

---

Warming up to go back to drawing these two, haven't done it in a long time.

Thank you for your understanding, folks! :3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

SHANE MY BELOVED anyways gonna request based on an oc that i made/an ai chatbot chat that i did recently. selectively mute reader with shane, and how their relationship evolves? strangers to lovers probs. hcs or oneshot/drabble :3 -galaxy

WAHOOO

I got 5 hearts with him as we speak so this is perfect timing <3

......

Settling into Stardew Valley was certainly going to be a challenge, especially with the new life you wanted to build here..and of course that entails meeting new people.

For most of your life, you've been selectively mute, only ever using your voice if you absolutely have to.

You never used it much at your previous office job, but it was still quite soulless and didn't make you feel good.

Even so, Lewis doesn't think you should stay a stranger and insists you introduce yourself to folks in Pelican Town.

You couldn't ignore the letters stuffed into your mailbox forever..so you finally headed into town.

While some villagers regarded you as "quiet", many of them chalked it up to you being new and welcomed you anyways.

Although Shane is indifferent and annoyed--as he is to most strangers.

You accidentally bumped into him, and he thinks you're rude for not saying "sorry".

Your brain sorta panics as you sign the words...but from the way he stares at you, you realize he doesn't understand what you're saying.

By the time you get out your notepad, he's long gone, mumbling about being late to his shift.

Since then, you try being polite and wave to him anytime you see him in the street or at the saloon..but he just wonders why you're bothering him.

One thing he kept noticing at the bar was that you always gave your order to Gus on your notepad, and he starts thinking there is a reason you can't talk and you weren't just being a dick specifically to him that day.

Still, he doesn't ask you. You're probably gonna stop trying to befriend him sooner or later. So why should he care?

One day, you approach Shane while he's working at JojaMart and asked him where a certain food ingredient was, pointing to your shopping list..and you see that irritable look in his eye again.

He had customers mixing up things on the shelves and snapping at him for things outside his control--and you caught him on a rather bad day.

He says nothing and just points further down the isle, but you just smile and mouth "thank you", signing the words before continuing on.

Poor guy goes red, convinced you blew a kiss at him just now...and it's all he could think about for the rest of his shift.

The very next day, you show up at Marnie's place with a fresh pizza, asking if Shane was home.

He gets flustered as HELL when he realizes you were at the mart buying ingredients to make one of his favorite foods...and he acted like a total jackass.

You left a note inside the container, which basically tells him you're selectively mute and realized your farm was just down the road from his aunt's ranch.

After reading it, he awkwardly apologizes and asks for a fresh start, to which you just smile and nod.

Jas, at this point, can see he's got a crush on you.

After that was cleared up, you two become friends and hangout together at the saloon often or share a beer on the dock.

You don't talk, but tbh Shane appreciates the silence between you two. He didn't have to force conversation, and neither did you.

Although that also enables him to vent to you about how downtrodden and repetitive his life feels, with you simply listening and accompanying him home.

It doesn't change the fact he felt like a burden to everyone, and one night you found him on the cliffside, his face covered in mud and tears, ready to give up on the world.

In his drunken haze, he forgot you were mute and wants you to tell him why he shouldn't do it..

"No wait..I..forgot you can't-"

"Shane..I'm here for you." Your voice comes out low, hoarse, and a little shaky, but he stopped sobbing the moment he heard it..and he stares up at you in shock.

"S-So..you do speak.." He mumbles. "You sound....like--like an angel...fuck..maybe they do exist. So you'll...be here for me no matter what? Even if I did something stupid...?"

You simply nod, and that makes him change his mind.

He just can't believe that out of all the people in this town, you chose to open up to him--some sad sack of shit who was about to jump off the cliff--and decide he should be the one to hear your voice first.

You actually wanted him around. And you never hated him despite all the times he was rude to you..

After he nearly vomits all over your shoes, you take him to the hospital, knowing he needed Harvey's intervention, and since then you've been supportive of his recovery journey.

He only remembers bits and pieces from that night..although the one thing he couldn't forget was hearing your voice.

It was probably so difficult for you to find it again, and he appreciates you talking him down, even if you had to close up and go totally silent for the next few days or so.

If you ever go into why you became selectively mute, Shane will do his absolute best to understand (and maybe get a little overprotective in the process if someone makes fun of you for it).

But if not, he'll still defend you regardless.

You teach him a few general phrases in sign language, which he tries to grasp and eventually gets the hang of.

At some point down the line..he asks you out on a festival date after much pressure from Jas and Marnie, and you were so excited you nearly yelled out "YES"-

But instead managed to nod happily, taking his hand and dragging him towards the celebration without a second thought.

Soon that little date turns into a genuine relationship, with Shane eventually moving onto your farm to help you care for the crops and animals, switching to alternatives to beer and promising to cut back on the hours he spends at the saloon.

Some days you'll be away mining, fishing, slaying monsters, or helping the Junimos rebuild the community center, but other times you'll stay inside and just cuddle with him, your pet, and the chickens.

He was muddling over why you chose him (a lot of self doubt still festers inside of him), and you spoke to him again--this time to his sober-self.

That was "because I love you".

And yes...he did cry.

[owlespresso]

dogged pursuit. part 5 of ? / part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags: filth below the tag, reader being a freak, bottom!Ratio, foot stuff(? mild if this tag is warranted), not beta'd

Revelation comes in the form of thin champagne glasses and another man’s lipstick on your cheek.

You don’t like to fool around on the job—you stand at the door of the ballroom while Veritas mills around with the rest of the guests, sloshing down more alcohol than you think is good for him. It’s probably the baseline amount he needs to tolerate all the talking heads floating around him, nameless IPC reps and rich folk with pearls around their necks. The kind of swooning crowd that heaps on nameless praise without knowing anything about him or any of his actual accomplishments. 

They don’t know him like you do, you think, stewing in your envy as people touch him. It’s always fleeting. A pat on the shoulder or a brief nudge from a passerby, but you still don’t like it. You want to be glued to him, stuck on that deep blue suit like a bloodstain. Instead, you’re stuck by the door with your hands shoved into your pockets, gaze scanning the perimeter of the place, barely fending off the encroaching emotion. 

You keep a careful eye on who walks in, who walks out. Your hawk-like gaze sticks tight to each guest, a silent warning. None of them really catch you off guard until a man— a pretty thing done up in pearlescent pinks, taller than you, stumbles on his way out. He nearly collapses into you with a pitiful kind of squeal. You act like any reasonable gentleman should and straighten him out, make sure he’s right and good before sending him on his way. He goes puttering off into the night with a flush on his cheeks, all the way down his throat. 

You don’t realize that some of his lipstick smudged on the apple of your cheek until Veritas finally comes over. It’s been an hour. That’s an acceptable amount of time to stick around. Just enough to be polite. The sky’s gone black, horizon lit by thousands of glistening stars, faroff galaxies.

He said nothing when he approached you, informing you crisply that it was time to return home. You thought nothing of it. These gatherings always frustrated him, congregations of “blithering fools” swarmed to him like flies to honey, blathering in his ear about potential research projects and hare-brained plans that he couldn’t be less interested in. Usually, though, he would tell you about it. He would fill the silence himself while you enthusiastically nodded along, as though you understood any of what he was saying.

But he had been quiet the whole way home. And when you had pressed him—

“You needn’t worry about how I found the event,” he nearly scoffed. “It looks like you had a delightful time yourself.”

One snappy statement lead unto another. Veritas seemed so determined to accuse you of something, but refused to specify. It was hardly the first time you’d been on the business end of his seething ire, but this time—it frustrated you. It made you want to tear your hair out, when you realized he was insinuating you had an intimate moment with a person other than himself. Because who else on this island have you even looked at for more than five seconds? No one! He’s been the sole recipient of your attention this entire time!

It made your vision blow red hot. Your lips curled into a snarl as you surged up on him, jamming your knee between his powerful thighs. His back hit the wall with an audible thump, his eyes blowing wide. 

“What. Are you talking about!? I’ve only been lookin’ at you! This whole time!” you snarled. Your hand fisted tight in his shirt, fabric crumpling beneath your white-knuckled grip as you leaned in real close, close enough to see the sweat on his brow. “So quit being such a damn brat.”

You’re not sure who lunged forward first. It all became lost in teeth and tongue, lips pressed so tight to yours that he could hardly get a breath in. You’re pretty sure it was you, but it was him who yanked you up the stairs. Him who pulled you into his room with all that strong-chorded muscle. Him who has his big hands on your waist, his lips kiss-swollen and his hair mussed up as he pants, face-flushed and fine suit knocked askew.

The ire from before is all but forgotten as you grab at him. Your fingers slide down his front, watching those buttons pop with unrestrained glee. It’s a fancy little number that twink over at the strategic department bought him. They clatter to the hardwood floor, the sound jolting him out of his stupor.

“You—” he begins, winding up to what’s doubtlessly another scolding, but you giggle and yank him close, teeth digging into the side of his neck. His words empty into a startled shout. One of your hands cups his head, threading into those dark locks to yank him down, while the other pulls at the sleeves of his suit. He seems to get the message. He abandons it with shaky hands, panting little breaths. Still, he glares at you, hawk-sharp as he dumps the now defunct garment onto a chair. “You will explain that to Aventurine should he ask why I am not wearing it at our next formal function.”

“Shut up about him,” you drawl against sweat salted skin. Your tongue encircles the blossoming bruise you’ve bitten into him. You feel him swallow beneath your greedy lips, lick the salt from his skin

You wrestle him out of his clothes and onto the bed. He lays out on his back for you. He looks suddenly—surprised to be there. Shirtless and flushed and wide-eyed. All this skin should be nothing new to you, but it feels new, because it’s just for you. His fat tits and thick biceps, the dips and curves of his abdomen, his skinny waist. 

“And do you know how annoying it was? To see all those people clinging onto your coattails? Whisperin’ in your ear? One of ‘em put his hand on your shoulder and I wanted to kill ‘em, Doc.” You confess, looming over him. Undoing his trousers proves to be a little more difficult, ‘cause if you ruin another expensive piece of clothing, he’ll probably get all pissy again. Clumsy hands fumble with his buttons until they’re undone, and then you’re practically clawing them down his legs with his boxers, watching with rabid-bright eyes as his cock pops free. It slaps against his lower tummy. 

“You’re—” Veritas breathes. His voice cuts off into a rattling inhale as your hand curls around the arch of his foot, bringing it with you as you climb atop the mattress, pulling his leg up, up, up. His toes curl, his thigh and calf twitching at the stretch. And his cock—thick and weeping hard, slides to rest atop his resting leg. He’s spread open for you, now. His golden eyes blow wide, a startled sound choked from his throat as he seems to process the reality of the position you’ve put him in. 

His fingers tense and knead at the sheets. His gaze flickers from your face, to the ceiling, to other places in the room. He doesn’t even seem certain of where he is, anymore. Perhaps too startled at how easily this all escalated to form a proper sentence. His skin is flushed deep pink, from his forehead to his chest. Kiss bitten lips swollen as he swallows.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“That’s not what I meant—seeing me in such a flustered and unwieldy state—you take some perverse pleasure out of it,” he rasps, hands continuing to flex atop the bedding. “Even earlier today, at the luncheon—”

“You think too much,” you sigh, and press your lips to the edge of his heel. And then your tongue. He jumps at that, and you laugh. You squeeze the arch of his foot, shifting your grip to rub your thumb over the met-head pat. “I just want you because you’re sexy, and smart, and it’s so easy to get you going when I pretend to be stupid.”

“You’re not stupid—wait, what do you mean you pretend?”

You ignore him. “Been thinking about your feet in those slutty sandals all day.” you drawl, lips cutting into a wide smirk, showing your teeth. 

He gapes, scandalized and momentarily rendered speechless. “You’re vile.”

An erumpent laugh bursts from deep in your chest. You finally relinquish your grip on his leg. He drops it onto the sheets, blushing like a fresh maiden. You slide down the mattress, knees dipping into the sheets on either side of his waist. His skin is like silk beneath your greedy fingers, chest soft and plump. Something on his chest gleams beneath the silvery moonlight and your brain grinds to a halt.

His nipples—they’re pierced. Silvery little rings embedded within the perking rosy buds.

“Doc, holy shit…” you gape, “Did you have these in all day?” You’re used to seeing his naked chest. At least one pec usually hangs out of whatever gossamer robe he’s thrown on for the day, but you’ve never seen him wear them. Roaming fingers roll beneath one of the little rings, your thumb stroking soft circles around his pebbled nipple. The bud hardens beneath your touch, rising and falling with his every stuttered breath. When you finally muster the strength to wrench your gaze away from his chest, to his face, he looks—flustered. 

“Of course I did,” he says, with a righteous anger he has not, in your opinion, properly earned. “You just weren’t paying attention.”

You suck his nipple into your mouth, and he arches. Broad hands seize your shoulders, but don’t move to pull you off. His fingers hook into the silken fabric of your shirt. His neck is a column of pale marble, exposed as he throws his head back. The metal is cold on your tongue. The tip teases at the ring, curling around it. 

And he’s sensitive. Sensitive in a wiggling, writhing way you hadn’t thought possible of such a stern scholar. The sculpted planes and curves of his body struggle against the sheets, against you as you hold him fast. His hips roll of their own accord, hard cock grinding against your thigh. When you pull off the abused nub, he shivers. He looks smaller when he’s beneath you, trembling like a cornered prey animal, exposed to the hot cattle prod of your gaze.

It stays on him, sharp and searching, as you scoot a little further down his body. Nose trailing down his pec. His skin smells like the nice soaps he uses. Lavender and lemon and ocean salts. He’s a little sweaty, too, slick in your mouth. Your teeth dig into the underside of his breast. The squeal that splits the air is so sudden, and so high, that it freezes you in place, lips pressed against his skin in an ‘O’. 

“Quit—gnawing on me like a—bone!” Veritas fumes, slapping your back. The blow is half hearted at best, a love tap in comparison to the level of strength you know he can muster when he feels like it. All of these petty little denials are for show, because he’s still content to stay and shudder beneath you. You hum into his heated skin, pulling back to drag your tongue over the mark your teeth have carved into that alabaster flesh.

Your lips skate down the perfect curves and rolls of his toned abdomen, refusing to part from his skin for even a moment. His tummy twitches with every touch, your tongue tracing deep v-lines, teasing the space beneath his belly button. 

Between his trembling breaths weave groans and soft sounds of his burgeoning pleasure. His wit has abandoned him, left him mindless in the cradle of your affections. 

“This entire time,” he rasps, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of a revelation. “You were—”

You seal your mouth around his cock, and his out loud thoughts whittle into moans.Those thick thighs perch on your shoulders, heels digging into your back.

[satureja13]

Winter Solstice Since Summer Solstice in June, the Night has stolen a few minutes of light every day - until today. Therefore today is the longest night of the year - and the beginning of the long, cold winter. But - just like a miracle - from tomorrow on, the days are getting longer. Leading us through the darkness until summer starts again. This is my favourite festival throughout the whole year. Because even when you hit rock bottom and you think you will never see the light again - there is still hope. And the sureness the light will come back. And the best thing: You don't even have to do anything to get the light back - it just happens! A happy Winter Solstice, y'all - may the light come back into your life <3

At Batuu, the light comes back even three times stronger with it's three suns. Saiwa, Jeb and Jeb went back to the woodlands, where they'd left the stolen borrowed shuttle. Lt. Agnon and Kylo Ren already arrived for the handover.

Lt. Agnon: "B.D will be here soon and we'll make a short briefing. Then we start the broadcast and tell the folks how we solved this diplomatically and peaceful." Saiwa nodded: "Sure." It's hard for all of them to remain professional to not endanger their mission. How hard must it have been for Albaleyh!

And finally the shuttle from Belsavis, the prison planet, landed - with B.D on board! Lt. Agnon had kept his promise.

And Saiwa is glad they'd left Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack at the cantina. They are still a bit dazzled. But Vlad would have made a huge fuzz for sure if he'd been here...

But they sat quietly at their table, trying to process everything. They don't remember much. Vlad had been shocked by the Stormtrooper after throwing a tantrum, Jack had collapsed because he can't stand being locked up and Ji Ho shut down completely, overwhelmed by their feelings that had hit him through the Bond... Ji Ho: "Why are these people staring at us?" Jack: "I don't know!"

But then the broadcast started. Jack, still a bit out of it, dreamily sighed: "Look how hot Kiyoshi looks..." Vlad was having a hard time looking at the man who had tried to take Ji Ho from them - him - and avoided to look at the screen...

None of them has an idea how it had happened that all of them and B.D are free now. Cantina Guest: "They are friends of Lenny, the Legendary, you know? He made all this possible! Lenny finally brought peace to Batuu." Cantina Guest 2: "You sure? They look a bit - drably..." Cantina Guest: "Pshhhhh! If Lenny hears you!" Vlad: "Tch."

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack left the cantina. Too much commotion for their still dazzled brains. The fresh air will do them good. And Jack was still hungry, so they sat at a food stand. Vlad and Jack are still utterly amazed of how stunning it is here. They don't want to leave Batuu - ever.

Jack: "I mean, we're drinking Bantha Milk while looking at a TIE Echelon in a Galaxy far far away!"

And that was when Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon returned from the broadcast... Master Ren looked longingly over to Jino... Of course he'd seen them.

Whether Vlad didn't understand how fragile this new peace was - or he just couldn't contain his anger. He never can when it comes to Ji Ho... "Hey, you!" he yelled in Kylo Ren's direction.

Before Jack could stop him, Vlad ran over, still a bit wonky on his legs, but he has to make a point. Master Ren and Vlad produced their lightsabers. Vlad: "This is for what you did to Jino - and Ji Ho!"

Master Ren: "You should have left him with me - you have nothing to offer him! He should belong to someone who loves and cherishes him."

Ji Ho: "Vlad is so hot..." Jack: "I know, right?! Damn - even I think he's hot!" Ji Ho: "Eh - did I say that out loud?" Jack: "What do you mean?"

Vlad: "Ji Ho belongs to no one! He's free to make his own choices!"

They kept on fighting for a while until Lt. Agnon cleared his throat. Lt. Agnon: "Master, it's time to end this if we don't want to taint our new found peace."

But before they ended this, Vlad took one last strike. Vlad: "And this is for Han!"

Spoiler: Kylo Ren killed his father Han Solo in 'The Force Awakens'. And neither I nor Jack and Vlad will ever forgive him! (I didn't even watch those movies ^^' They didn't happen ö.ö')

Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon went back to the First Order Building and Vlad back to Ji Ho. Ji Ho: "I wouldn't mind belonging..." Vlad: "To him?! Fine! If that's what you want!"

Ji Ho: "I want to belong to you." Vlad: "Oh..." Jack: "Aouwwwww!"

Let's cherish this as long as it lasts and they're still dazzled ^^'

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack eventually arrived at the campsite by the shuttle where they are supposed to spend the night. B.D will leave early tomorrow morning to meet his kids, he'd already called them. And as soon as the Boys found a hike to the orbit, where Great A'Tuin is waiting for them, they will leave Batuu too.

'Later on, we'll conspire, As we dream by the fire To face unafraid, The plans that we've made, Walking in a winter wonderland.'

Macy Gray - Winter Wonderland (This is my favourite version of this song)

Jack and Vlad wanted to know everything about B.D's adventures and they chatted excitedly - when B.D suddenly looked up: "Now these are some weird meteorites!" Jack: "Meteorites? Where?" B.D: "Over there, above the trees!"

Jack: "The meteorites! They are back! And they're leading us the way!"

Meanwhile at the First Order Building - at Kylo Ren's apartment. After the fight with Val, the Master felt the need to use Lt. Agnon again. To help him to forget about Jino. The Master even left his mask on! A secret little kink of Lt. Agnon :3 Lt. Agnon: "Master... the shaft of your lightsaber is poking me. You should set it aside." Master Ren: "This isn't my lightsaber..." Lt. Agnon sucked in a breath: "Oh, Master! *Lt. Agnon's hand wandered down beneath the blanket* Is this - all - for me?" Master Ren: "It is, Tarek. You did well today, bringing peace to Batuu - and for me." The Master also never called Lt. Agnon by his first name before - Tarek.

The Master usually took Lt. Agnon in the closet when he needed to use him to forget about Jino. This was the first time he took him to his bed. Hope is the last to die. The Master has a lot to forget about this Boy and Lt. Agnon has a lot of hope...

(The meaning of the name Tarek is: Quote: 'Tarek is a masculine name of Arabic origin. A variant of Tariq, this name translates to “night visitor” or “knocker at the door,” referring to visitors travelling at night. In the Qur'an, it also means “bright star,” which leads the way through the darkness.') (Lt. Agnon has no confirmed first name. Tarek is non-canon only for us ^^' I think it matches him, and for this Winter Solstice episode that wouldn't have went so well without his help.)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[thisweekinfandomhistory]

Oh my god. This week, Emily and V discovered the existence of the single most galaxy-brain brilliant fanfiction of all time. No spoilers, but you WILL NOT predict ANY facet of this story. Also, we delve into the extremely long and impressive (and sometimes hilarious, because the '90s) history of Hanson fanfiction, AKA Hanfic. The Wayback Machine really earned its $2 donation this week, folks, because it turned up some pure gold.

Sources

Christmas Time on Fanlore Embers by ahestele Embers Fanart by Lily Fox 1998 1999 2003 USA Today

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Hurricane Helene devastated Asheville, North Carolina and other areas. It is the deadliest mainland hurricane since Hurricane Katrina, and an estimated $53 billion dollars will be needed for North Carolina to recover. Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games home is in Appalachia; additionally, The Hunger Games movie was filmed in Asheville. To help support relief to those affected in the area, a fundraiser was created by those in the Fandom. This fundraiser entails a PDF zine of more than 30 plus pieces of fanart and fanfiction totaling over 330 pages of work. Those who donate to an approved charity toward relief from Hurricane Helene will receive this exclusive collection. A list of charities can be found on the fundraiser’s tumblr, @fandomsunited4hr.

Approved charities include Mountain Projects, Homeward Bound, Asheville Habitat, and more. Send an email to fuhrgames74@gmail.com with proof of donation and you’ll receive over 30 exclusive fanworks from creators including V (@aimmyarrowshigh), @katnissdoesnotfollowback, @kald-dal-art and more. This zine is only available through January 04, 2024.

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[book-of-baba-fett]

Revolve - Captain Rex x Fem!Reader

Summary: After months of thinking he was dead, Captain Rex comes back into your life. There will be time to figure out where you lie in a galaxy neither of you know anymore, but for now you can't keep your hands off him and Rex needs to show you how much he missed you.

Warnings: Smut (18+ only for this folks), oral sex (f receiving), boob & general body worship, PiV, praise kink, mentions of/light cockwarming, creampie

A/N: Inspired by Rex's return in The Bad Batch season 2, but no spoilers for the episode's plot. It's been a long time of writer's block, so i'm kicking up my brain again with some good old smut featuring our favorite blond captain. Divider by @galacticgraffiti

Word Count: 3.4k

Ao3 Link

Masterlist

You were always careful with how you left your apartment: Coruscant wasn’t a safe space to live, even before the Empire. Now there was a false sense of security, a cover brought by the end of the war that should make you feel comfort but you couldn’t lose the fear that something else would come to shake your world at its core. Thing were supposed to be safe, but you didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. You couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder as you walked home, you never lingered in secluded spots for too long, maybe you were being paranoid, but ever since you the war ended you knew you weren’t safe. Maybe it was because you lost the one person who you knew would always look after you. So, you always triple check that your doors are locked before bed, that your security system was on, and would repeat the same motions when you left for work in the morning. So, tonight when you arrive home to an unlocked door, it’s more than a surprise.

You recognize the simple signs of disturbances; your chair slightly nudged to the side, a cloak resting over the back of your couch. Whoever came in was giving you warning signs so you wouldn’t be alarmed once you saw the shadow of their figure staring out your window.

And the last thing Rex ever wanted to do was frighten you.

At the sound of your keys landing on the counter, Rex turns to face you. He looks good for a 'dead' man. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, your feet frozen in place as you take in the man in front of you. You never believed the reports, couldn’t fathom that he had died in the crash that took his brothers. Still, it was like a ghost stood in front of you, and you were afraid if you acknowledged it, you would wake up from this wanted dream.

But then he says your name, the rumble of his voice too present to be a figment of your imagination. His eyes are filled with longing and disbelief even though he had sought you out; you would have teased him for it if you weren't in shock yourself.

You practically leap at him, and Rex is waiting with open arms; those strong, caring arms grasping you tightly as he tugs you into his chest. The vest he wears is so light you can feel his heart thudding in his chest, as runaway with glee as yours is too. He presses his face into your neck, smelling the scent of your shampoo, taking in your essence. HIs hands grasp your clothing, he needed this moment just as much as you did; this tangible proof that you still existed after everything else fell apart.

"Cyar'ika," He murmurs, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. Hu nuzzles into you and you feel the stubble growing on his cheek; a new thing for him. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

"I thought I lost you," you manage to squeak out, eyes burning from tears threatening to spill over.

"I wanted to be here sooner," you can feel the weight of honesty on his words. Rex pulls back, his eyes once again finding you. Now that you're closer, you can take him in much better. A pale scar on his temple is the only sign of injury on him. He rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb circling over where tears had already managed to stain. "I would have been. But it wasn't safe."

"It still isn't," you interject, your worry for him renewed in a different way. "So much has happened so quickly. And I don't believe what they're saying about the Jedi being traitors, it just doesn't make sense."

"It's all lies," Rex insists in a harsher tone than he's ever used with you. He dials it back once he sees the apprehension on your face, pecking a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. His face is lined with exhaustion, his eyes tired, and you can feel the anger laced with guilt radiating off him. "Palpatine was using them, using all of us, all along."

"What happened?" you almost don't want to know, but you have to understand where he's been, everything he's dealt with. You can't take his burdens, but you can help him with the weight.

"It's not a quick tale," he says with a mirthless chuckle, that deep sound that you love so much hidden behind the dead seriousness.

"Well, I'm here to listen," You nuzzle against his hand, planting a kiss in his palm.

"Later. Right now, though..." Rex's tone gets lower, his hand sliding to your neck as the arm around your back squeezes you tighter. “It’s been too long since I kissed you.”

You don’t have time to reply before his lips are on yours, a moan catching your throat as his grasp tightens. Rex is slow, tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment to make up for lost time. But when you pull back for air, it’s like a switch flips in him; his eyes are dark with desire, hooded as they look over you.

He guides you back to the bedroom he’s spent so many nights in. He knows your place like it was his own, and one day you had wanted to make it so. Now you know that day could never be.

Rex kisses you again, hungrier and insisting as his hands find the waistline of your pants. You can’t hold in the giggle that escapes your lips at his frantic attempts to take your clothes off. You help him as best you can, lifting your shirt up. Rex makes an indignant huff when he has to release your lips, but its quickly silenced as you stand in front of him in your bra and panties. His hands reach around your back, his deft fingers skillfully removing your bra. His eyes are locked on your face as he slides it off you, watching the way your lips tremble in anticipation.

Rex’s touch was reverential; his fingertips grazing over your skin, raising goosebumps as his touch passed. Your nipples pebbled, from the cold air or from the arousal of the heat of his hands against you, you weren’t sure.

“I missed you,” you whimper as he nudges you to sit on the bed. That doesn’t encompass all you’ve felt in the last few months. Nothing could compare to the ache you felt without him. But you couldn’t burden him with that, not when he was dealing with so much.

“I’ve missed you too, Cyare,” Rex leans down and clasps both his hands around your face. “But I’m here now. It’s just you and me.”

He’s quick to remove his clothes, eager to feel his skin against yours. You slide back as he does, taking him in as you prop up on your elbows. His chest is littered with more scars than you remember, something that frightens you. But you can’t let your fears get in the way of this moment.

You spread your legs wider, smirking at the way Rex’s eyes linger on your panties, the only time of clothing either of you are wearing. He prowls to the bed, slowly climbing on it and over you until he’s kissing you again.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” Rex murmurs against your lips.

“You could mention it more often,” you can’t resist the urge to tease, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach. Rex blows a huff of air against your lips as he chuckles in response.

“Alright then,” he starts, his voice dangerously low as he presses up.

“You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, pecking a kiss on the corner of your mouth. His lips trail down to your jaw, his breath hot on you as if meets the sensitive skin of your neck. You yelp in surprise as his teeth meet your skin, nipping lightly before his tongue laves over the sensitive spot. “And so sexy.”

He makes his way down to your heaving chest. His palm cups on of your breasts, squeezing as he plants open mouthed kisses on your sternum. His eyes meet yours once again, a slight smugness in them as his tongue peaks out and flicks over your nipple.

“Love your perfect tits,” Rex groans before sucking your nipple between his lips. You whimper from the pleasure, your cheeks hot and your core aching. He moves to your other breast, sucking on that nipple too as you squirm beneath him. You try to press your legs together to release some of the need settling in at the apex of your thighs, but Rex’s body between you prevents that. But he knows what you want, and starts to grind his hardness against you. You gasp as you feel how large he is, his hot and heavy cock rutting against you. Droplets of precum smear against your lower abdomen as Rex lazily thrusts, still focused on your chest.

When he decides he’s done, he scoots lower down your body, his tongue tracing his path down before he gets to your panties. Rex looks up at you, his brown eyes filled with sinful wanting as he licks a stripe over your covered slit, tasting the tang of your arousal that had already dampened your panties. You moan his name, one of your legs crossing over his back to nudge him closer to you.

“Patience,” Rex tsks, that small, confident grin that drives you insane still on his face. His fingers toy with the band on your panties. “Only good girls get rewarded.”

You hmph, prepared to sass him back when he raises an eyebrow at you. You put on a sweet smile, and nudge your legs slightly further apart, waving your hips as you wiggle.

“I’ve just missed how good you make me feel,” you sound breathless as you say it. “I can’t handle being teased right now.”

You try to shift again but Rex holds you steady. He presses a kiss to your thigh; the roughness of his stubble sends a shiver down your spine. You must be dripping in your panties, your need for him to give you everything taking over. “Rex; please.”

Rex was a resolved man, but he always had a weakness where you were concerned. “Anything for you, cyar’ika.”

Rex loops his fingers around your waistband and slowly slides your panties down, groaning when he sees your glistening lips. Once they’re off, he crawls back to you on the bed. His strong arms wrap around your thighs, his large hands holding your thighs steady and open for him as he dives in.

You moan as soon as his tongue glides through your lips, you try to grind your hips against his face but his grip is strong, holding you in place as he tastes you. He licks a long, flat strip up your slit, then circles over your clit with his tongue, You can’t hold in the way your breath hitches as he flicks over your clit, teasing you as he begins to finally relieve some of that pressure aching in you. 

Rex groans against your skin as he tastes you, thinking of how much he missed this, missed you. It’s cliche to say, but he eats you like a man starved; he had been so long deprived of you that now he needed to relish it, savor it. Something ignited in him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he buried his face there. You knew if he wasn’t holding you steady, your legs would be squeezing against his head. Your hands jump to the back of his head, your nails probably scratching the back of his head, but he gives no sign he minds. In fact he seems to like it; he groans into your core, the vibrations against your sensitive skin making you keen.  

His eyes dart up as you gasp, a challenge and a cockiness in his eyes that sets you on fire. He unwinds one of his arms from your legs, the limb weighted with the signs of that sweet soreness you’ll feel in the morning. You’re about to offer Rex some teasing remark for it, when you feel a thick finger probing at your entrance and your words turn into a moan. 

“Relax, cyar’ika, I’ve got you,” Rex croons as his finger slowly drags in and out of you. He puls it in and out of you, slowly increasing his pace, before adding a second finger in. Your walls cling to his fingers, tightly clenching around them as Rex fingers you. He crooks his finger, finding your g-spot with such a skill and ease; he knows your body so well, knows exactly what to do to make you feel good. 

With only one hand to keep you in place, your squirming has increased; your body acting of its own mind to chase his fingers as they thrust into your pussy. The way his fingers fill you is near perfect, second only to his cock. You can feel the pressure cresting in your body with every stroke of his fingers inside you, your breath leaving you in sighs as your chest begins to heave. He slips another finger in, stuffing you and warming you up for what’s to come and you swear you’re close to seeing the Maker. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Rex grunts out, his voice husky with arousal. You can feel his breath on your pussy as he encourages you. “I can feel how close you are. Go on, let go for me.”

He leans in and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking as his fingers stick with their consistent motion against your g-spot. You cry out his name, your body tensing as you climb that peak, finally toppling over with a swipe of his dexterous fingers. Your vision dots white and your voice cracks as your head rolls back. Rex keeps sucking your clit and fingering you as your orgasm washes over you, only slowing when your body relaxes again. 

“How was that?” Rex asks, his smirk telling you he already knew the answer. He pushes himself back up, climbing over you so he could kiss you; you could taste yourself on his lips.

“Hmm could have been bett-oh,” Your teasing reply is cut off by Rex kissing you again, his hand slips to your neck, his fingers clasping around it. He only gives a light pressure, not enough hurt you in any way but enough to remind you who made you feel that good. You can feel his cock, hot and hard against your thigh as his kiss grew more insistent, tongue meeting tongue as your arousal built up again. Rex can’t wait any longer either. 

 “I need you.” He grunts out in between kisses, needy and purposeful. 

“Then take me,” you reply, out of breath, ready to offer him everything you have. 

Rex enters you slowly, his cock stretching you, filling you in the way you craved. Your hands clenched around his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you hissed from the slight pain that came from getting used to him. But maker, it was so worth it. Rex’s muscles were clenched as he held himself back from roughly snapping his hips to yours; he wanted to take you, claim you entirely as his and Maker knows you would willingly let him. But that restraint made those first moments all the more savorful, something to cling to before you lost yourselves.

Rex groans roughly as his cock hilts completely inside you, pressing his forehead against yours. He stills for a moment, breathing heavily as he feels you around him, warm and tight. He loves the feeling of you beneath him trembling with want, loves the way you bite your lips as you try and hold your whimpers inside. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, taking you in and reading you to judge when you’re ready for him to move.

He fills you so perfectly, you would let him lay here for hours, semi-crushing you with his cock inside you as your cunt squeezes around him. You would have him use you in any way he wanted and you would let him. But now there’s one thing alone you want, you meet his eyes and nod, digging your nails tighter into his skin as you beg, “Move, please Rex .”

You cry in pleasure as he thrusts back and slams his hips back into you so hard you feel him in your gut. You’re still moaning when he thrusts again, just as hard, just as deep.

This wasn’t your soft and tender Rex; you knew he was there, under the hardened layers of a man who had lost everything. This Rex is still kind, still devoted, but he has a need burning through him. A desire to take you and consume you. His grip around you is harsh, his arms squeezing you as they wrap around your torso so hard you half wonder if he could break you. His thrusts near punishing, his cock plunging deep into you. You can’t hold in your moans and cries; and Rex doesn’t want you to. He wants to hear you, needs to know how you fall apart under him, how you call his name, how you beg for him.

“That’s my good girl,” he grits out, his voice so low it sparked a fuse inside you. His eyes flashed as you clenched around him. “Taking me so well. You look so beautiful like this.”

“You feel so good,” you tell him. But there’s a smugness on his face.

“I know, princess,” you swear you could cum right then. He knows what he’s doing to you. He can feel the way your body trembles beneath him, how your legs quake around his waist, how your cunt is leaking with arousal all by what’s he’s doing to you.

You clutch onto him likes he’s your life line, and in a way he is. Everything revolves around him, in a way that fills you with bliss when he’s with you and a way that filled you with dread these last few months without him. You’re still torn under the surface, wanting to cry in joy and sorry over ever emotion running through you at seeing him again but you’ll have time for that later, time to figure out what comes next. Right now, the only thing that matters is he’s here with you.

Every stroke of his cock inside you knocks the air out of you; you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve moaned his name or how many times your name has left his lips like a prayer. His praises for you falling between every thrust, igniting that fire in your gut as he pounds into you.

Rex holds you tighter and you feel like he could snap you in half; his thrusts going faster and faster, his grunts in your ear getting louder. A layer of sweat beads on both your bodies, the smack of your hips meeting is lewd but heavenly.  Your breath is pitching, every time Rex moves his cock hits you in a place so deep as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. He can feel you pulsing around him, hear the way your voice is cracking and he knows you’re about to come.

“Come on mesh’la, that’s it,” Rex orders hoarsely, his voice rugged and tense as he holds himself together for a little bit longer, “come for me.”

You start to see stars as your orgasm hits you. Rex fucks your harder as you come, his breath loud as he chases his own orgasm with you. Your pussy clenches around Rex’s thick cock, milking him dry as he grunts out and spills inside you. You should be embarrassed by how loud you are, knowing there’s no way your neighbors can’t hear you yell Rex’s name but you can’t bother to care. Rex’s thrusts speed up as he empties himself into you, until he presses all the way in once more when he’s done, filling you into most sinfully delightful way as he collapses on top of you.

You both lay there for an immeasurable amount of time; his cock still filling you up, plugging your mixed releases that slowly leak out of you as he softens. His lips are in your neck, softly kissing you as he murmurs his adorations into your skin. Your fingers trace circles on his back, over the scars that litter his body. There are conversations to be had, plans to be made: but nothing else matters in this moment more than having your Rex back, safe with you.

--

Taglist & Rex Hoes (fill out this form on my masterlist if you want to be added!)

@stankferrik @nyravioppri @pinkiemme @fivesarctrooper1 @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @galacticgraffiti @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @stankferrik @nyravioppri @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @alwayssnivellus @amyroswell @Sailingthehighseas @lucyysthings @manqoz @lady--kenobi @punkpirate82 @rowansparrow @starstofillmydream @sunshinesdaydream @lucyysthings @hotpinkplastoid @fordo-kixed-rex @ilikemymendarkandfictional @babygirlrex0504 @djarrex @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @fett-djarin

[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

Twisted Memories

Fem Yautja x Fem! Human! Ex-soldier! Reader

Word count: 928

Warnings: Brief mentions of: suicide, SA, harassment violence, and injury. Themes of PTSD. Nightmares. Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After living through hell, dropping out of service, failing to re-enter civilian life, and trenching across the galaxy, you finally get some peace of mind in your new life. 

A/N: This is probably the most specific fic I've written, and probably the most heavy, but I think it's really good!

You don't like talking about your service, you don't even like telling people that you served. Folks always tried to thank you, and tell you how brave you are. You hated it. There was nothing from your service that was worth being thanked over. You had been forced to kill and maim in the name of corporate interest. You had been harassed simply for the crime of having tits. And so many of your friends were dead, not because they were killed valiantly in the heat of battle, but because they too had been mistreated and abused by the government who they had sworn to protect.

Somehow things got even worse when you left service. The VA was absolutely now help, you had been left with chronic pain from all the shrapnel left in your body. Radio shows and news anchors kept reaching out to hear your story, only for you to tell it and be met with horrified looks and an empty promise that they would keep in touch. The worst part was having to live amongst civilians who had no idea what you went though and would likely vomit if you told them. In the end, getting off planet was the best decision you ever made.

The yautja were much more your style. Their entire civilization was focused on hunting. But not just random senseless killings like back on earth. These hunts had rules, they were fair, and it was for glory. You were treated so well by everyone too. Free, no hassle health care, mental health support, and best of all a loving wife to come home too. 

You loved telling her all about your hunts, but always refrained from telling her about your life before leaving earth. You didn’t want her to know about any of it, and for the most part she didn’t ask. But she did wonder. 

Despite how hard you tried to run from your past it always caught up to you, especially in your dreams. Vivid images of war would regularly flash across the back of your eyelids as your brain struggled to rest. What was worse is that these nightmares were always worse than your memories. They were twisted and warped by your subconscious until they became more horrific than reality could ever be. 

You once again flew out of your sleep, the tendrils of those nightmares slowly fading as your dark bedroom came into view. The soothing voice of your lover wafted into your ears as you slowly regained awareness of the world around you. Even sitting in bed she towered over you, and effortlessly pulled you into her lap and cradled you in her arms as though you were her pup. She loved you like you were her pup. Without even thinking you burrowed your face into her clavicle and sobbed.

“IT WAS SO SCARY!” You wailed. 

“I know love, It's ok, I'm here,” she soothed back. 

“I-I was jus- just tr-try-trying to pull hi-him to safety, and-and they j-just kept SHOOTING AT ME!” You completely lost control as you sobbed and cried into her. She began to rock you as she sang something that you had once heard her singing to a suckling. It was hard to tell in the dead of night how much time had passed but that didn’t matter as your sniffling slowed then stopped.  

“Please,” she spoke, honey and silk dripping from her voice “Tell me.” She didn’t even need to say what, you knew. 

You followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She fixed you both a warm drink before joining you. Almost immediately you poured it all out. Everything you had seen in combat, everything that had been done to you by your superiors, everything. Eventually you had to stop. Your breath hitched, your eyes stung, your nose ran, and the sun was starting to come up. You hadn't even gotten to the subject of the nightmare. Your lover soothed you once again, treating you very much like a sad pup. 

She curled back into bed with you in her arms. Somewhere between the heat of her body, the soft plush of the bed, and the reassuring sounds of the early morning, you were able to fall back asleep, if only for a moment. 

Over the next few days you told your wife more. Telling her how and why you left service, your life after, the many many funerals you attended. Eventually you told her about how and why you left earth, and how everything has been better since then and how you don’t think you can ever go back. She gave you a sad smile.

“My life as well has been better since you have come into it, but I am so sorry that you had to walk though that to be here.” It was at last her turn to cry. Her heart ached for what you had lived though. In that moment the only thing she wanted to do was take that pain away, to take those memories, and to take the nightmares. You both held each other, and embraced for a long moment. Once the tears from both of you began to slow, you pulled away and looked at each other. Her hair painted her face and the tears caught the sunlight to look like jewels. Your rosy cheeks bloomed, and a smile was spread across your face. You echoed back your wife's earlier sentiment.

“I'm sorry I had to go though that too. But fuck do you make it all worth it.”

[mask131]

So you want to know about Oz! (6)

The "Oz" world is definitively one of the big slices of American culture, and yet it has managed to reach many countries outside of the USA!

For example, Japan. The Wizard of Oz is one of the several American works of fiction that were brought over to the Nippon world and that Japanese folks took quite a liking to! As a result it regularly pops up there alongside more European "foreign classics" like Alice in Wonderland or the Grimm fairytales.

The first Japanese Oz adaptation I know of was an animated movie created in 1982 by Toho, adapting The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

It was one of the two most famous anime adaptations of the Oz books. The other I talked about before: 1986's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz series, which is to this day one of the most complete Oz adaptations ever made for screen. Indeed, this anime doesn't just cover "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", but also "The Marvelous Land of Oz", "Ozma of Oz" and "The Emerald City of Oz". In fact, when I first got a DVD of the series as a kid I was VERY confused as to why suddenly there were all these weird events and characters comng out of nowhere, since I was only aware of the very first book.

[Looking at these animes allows one to notice several big cultural changes from American to Japan. For example, these adaptations have a tendency to give a purplish-skin to the Wicked Witch of the West, as opposed to the greenish skin of the Witch in American media... And it reflects how in Japanese visuals purple is the color most associated with toxic products, radioactivity and poison, whereas it is "green" the venomous and radioactive color in American media]

There is a second series that is more... unique to say the least. 1991's The Wonderful Galaxy of Oz (Space Oz no Bouken), which is a retelling of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz... but in space! We are not in the early 1900s but in 2060, "New Kansas" is actually a planet, Oz an ENTIRE NEW GALAXY, and the quest for the "Brain, Heart, Courage" becomes a quest for magical crystals of "Love, Wisdom and Courage" to fend off an intergalatic invasion... Yeah that's very Japanese for you.

Adaptations of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" also appeared from time to time as individual episodes in fairytale anthologies series - from 1976's Manga sekai mukashi Banashi, to 1993's World Fairy Tale Series, passing by a stand-alone OVA from (1983 I believe?).

Outside of animes, the world of Oz notably had great success in the domain of Japanese video games.

Most people today are familiar with the game "The Wizard of Oz: Beyond the Yellow Brick Road", which was originally released in 2008 under the strange name... "Riz-Zoawd?". And which is ... quite loosely adapted from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. (You don't have one wicked witch to defeat but four seasonal witches to fight ; the magical shoes are given to Dorothy by the Wizard of Oz who summoned her to the land, etc...)

And while it is not available anymore, there was this app game that was quite talked about and documented online. It was a dating sim part of the "Shall we date?" line: Oz+ Shall we date?

A dating simulation taking place after the events of the novel, but in a world where Dorothy's companions became pretty young human men, and the Land of Oz doesn't have four Witches but four Warlocks... And this game actually had, surprisingly, quite a lot of Oz lore to it! I will definitively say that it was a precursor of future games like "Twisted Wonderland", in the idea of an "actually serious at worldbuilding genderbent game".

There are a few others but I unfortunately cannot fnd them back for now... Oh well!

And while I am at it, this is NOT a Japanese work, this is a Korean manhwa, but I think it still deserves a mention: "Dorosi" (published in English as "Dorothy of Oz") which is a very interesting reinterpretation of The Wizard of Oz as a sci-fi/science-fantasy series (the Witches are not witches, but hyper-advanced scientists delving into robotics, genetics and other sci-fi technology; a lot of the characters are just mutants or equiped with android-prosthetics, etc, etc...)

[yescking]

little avenhill drabble under the cut. about strong drinks and strange feelings. you were warned

The pub they're in is still loud despite the late hour.

They should've left a hot minute ago, but that robot realised the house is still serving the drinks he thought were out of market forever, so they stayed for a few shots more. It's a pretty small and cramped place with live (not that good) music and suspicious contingent. Aventurine has been in places far worse, but he's not very used to them nowadays. Usually he goes to expensive restaurants and bars with slot machines where rich men wait to spend their money and their honor — and he lets them. He rarely goes to these places to actually spend time with a good drink.

Boothill offers a nice opportunity to do so.

They sit beside one of the few private tables with music blasting and folk yelling somewhere far to the center of the place. The hot air swims through and stays on the back of their throats. The bottles of the strongest whiskey Aventurine has ever tasted lay on and under the table, filling his nose with notes of oak and peat. Maybe he indeed did more shots that he should've.

The guy beside him seems just a bit tipsy - maybe it's his years of experience or just a metal heart inside a metal chest. He's babbling something about the drinks, and the guns, and the shit vocalist on the stage, and Aventurine can't really strain his brain into sorting his usual unique speech and figuring out the swears hidden under that damn beacon. He just looks at him, blinking slowly. Both of their hats sit beside eachother, hanged on the empty bottles.

It's already dark out, and the place doesn't really provide much light either, so they sit in soft darkness, hinted with orangy illumination from the stylised neon lamps. Maybe it's the humidity, maybe it's the strangely intimate atmosphere the two share, maybe it's the alcohol softening his brain and his body, but he feels a sting of deja vu on the back of his head. It almost makes him go on autopilot.

He watches the beauty marks move under Boothill's left eye. A strange yet familiar thought rolls in his mouth. It blurts itself out before he has the time to chew on it.

"Kiss me," falls from his lazy tongue, spattering across the table. Silence.

He doesn't really process what he just said until he hears a deafening laughter by his side.

"Who, you!? Naw, brother, you gotta be kiddin'! Yer fancy lil' face is too soft for me mouth of steel! Who in the right mind would get close to that poisonous sharp tongue of yers anyway, amiright? Hahaha, ye sweet talkin' snake... Hey, what's with da face? Hey!?"

The world around Aventurine moves and blurs until he feels wetness on his cheeks and a teardrop on his glove. Boothill shifts closer to him while he tries to rub his eyes back into normal state, ruining his little makeup alongside the movement.

It's weird. He didn't even mean that request and it's not like he's afraid of rejection. Well, maybe he's used to being wanted like that — physically — but surely he didn't expect Boothill the Galaxy Ranger of all people to like him. He didn't even want the kiss!

The sharp pain in his chest somehow signals the opposite. He gets tangled in his own tray of conflicted feelings, unable to think and act fast as always.

"Hey, are ye actually cryin'!? Fudge, were ye honest about that? Calm down, man!" He moves his hand in front of Aventurine's eyes which makes him feel even dizzier. "I didn't mean that last part, y'now lil old me! Gah... Do ye really want it, ye crazy scoundrel?" Aventurine doesn't have the time to answer.

Boothill moves his ice cold metal hand to brush off Aventurine's bangs and pecks him right in the middle of his forehead. His lips are thin, rough and a bit sticky from the whiskey. Its more of a slap than a kiss. Aventurine somehow feels content from that.

"Now ye drunk sweetie satisfied? Makin' me do crazy stuff for a prank, unbelievable..." He moves away, ruffling Aventurine's hair at the last second.

The treacherous tears stop. He sees a hint of a blush on Boothill's face — its not red, rather darker and colder shade of his skin tone instead. Not surprising with the blue blood running his wires. Aventurine giggles and downs his last shot for the evening.

[queer-irritator]

Padawan! Obi-wan Kenobi x Padawan! Reader Part 2

A/n: This is FINALLY part 2 to this ask from the lovely @projectdreamwalker! Thank you all for being so patient, life has really been wild! This has got a little bit of everything, it kinda goes off on a tangent but... that's how my brain works 🥴 So sorry if some parts are like "wtf is this doing in here??" We got some Anakin, Padme, Ahsoka, Rex and Maul screen time in this one, folks.

CW: So much, everything in ROTS, fluff, sadness, death

Never proofread as always 👍

Word Count: 4,287

The next 10 years were incredibly busy. Anakin was proving to be quite the handful and you had become a Master Jedi Investigator. You spent most of your time undercover in the lower levels of Coruscant keeping an eye on crime and ensuring the temple was free from threats. Unfortunately, being undercover meant having extremely limited contact with other Jedi. You mostly communicated via encrypted voice messages, but you did have the pleasure of going off-world once in a while and were able to see some old friends, including Obi-wan Kenobi. You even had a handful of missions with him over the years. He would never admit it, but he looked forward to working with you the most, despite the antics you and Anakin would get up to. The two of you were quite the pair at getting under Obi-wan’s skin and testing his patience. When the Clone Wars began, you were stationed back at the Jedi temple on Coruscant. 

You received a message informing you of the Battle of Geonosis and the clone trooper army appearing seemingly out of thin air, and orders to return to aid in the ongoing war against the Separatists. That had been about a week ago, you had been traveling across the galaxy in the meantime. It was mid-day when you landed on Coruscant. You stepped off your ship, squinting from the sun with your R4 droid trailing behind you. It had been quite a while since you were last on the upper levels, probably about 6 rotations; but things didn’t seem to have changed much. 

“Welcome, Master (y/n). I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. The Jedi have been incredibly busy, so I will be escorting you to your quarters.” A gold droid, C-3PO, introduced himself and began to lead you inside.

“Thank you. I guess you already know me, this is R4.” You gestured to your droid, following close behind him. “Is Obi-wan here..?” 

“Oh! You know Master Kenobi? He has been in meetings all morning with his clone army commander. He has taken on the position of General in these trying times.” He explained.

“Wow, he always was a high achiever.” You thought aloud. 

C-3PO stopped in front of a door, “Here you are. Master Kenobi has a room down the hall from here as well. Please do let me know if you require anything.”

“I will, thank you.” You said as you entered your room. 

You looked around as you heard the remanence of the droid’s conversation. 

“Come now, R4. I will get you cleaned up.”

You set a small bag you had brought with your down on the bed. You had been sitting all day, really all week, so you weren’t too keen on settling in quite yet. Besides, you couldn’t sit still knowing Obi-wan was so close to you again. After giving yourself a quick look-over in the mirror, you exited your room and headed towards the center of the Jedi temple. 

You stopped multiple times to catch up with old friends and mentors you hadn’t seen since you went undercover. Just as you had said good-bye to someone else, you turned to see Obi-wan standing with his hand resting on his beard and his eyebrows drawn together as he was deep in thought, looking down at a holo-map. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you took him in. Still as handsome as ever, but he seemed wiser now, more focused. That seemed to happen each time you saw him, he was always sharpening his skills. 

Obi wan’s gaze broke from the map and shifted to you. There’s no doubt he could feel someone’s eyes staring him down. When he made eye contact with you his stoic demeanor dropped. His eyebrows raised and his mouth parted slightly in surprise. Then he once again furrowed his eyebrows, as to ensure he wasn’t imagining things. He called your name as he started to walk toward you. 

“Is that really you?” A smile was spreading across his cheeks as he got closer.

“It’s me.” You confirmed, closing the gap between the both of you and enveloping him in the tightest squeeze you could, “I missed you so much.”

He returned your enthusiasm with an equally tight hug. 

“I missed you too, darling.” he whispered in your ear. 

You breathed in his scent as you lingered in his arms, if only you two were alone. It was almost insufferable how badly you wanted to kiss him and just stare at him for hours. 

Obi-wan let out a chuckle, his breath tickling your ear, “Mind your thoughts. We are in a building full of Jedi.”

You blushed and playfully pushed him away, breaking your hug, “Oh, shut up.” 

But you knew he was right. You hadn’t been around other Jedi in a decade so you weren’t used to controlling your thoughts or feelings as much as you should. You looked him over and gently placed your hand on his cheek.

“You look good, Obi.” You smiled and dropped your hand back to your side.

“So do you.” He said as his eyes flicked between your eyes and your mouth. 

“There you are, Master. You’re late for our meeting.” A familiar voice burst the bubble the two of you had been enveloped in.

“I was on my way.” Obi-wan began to defend himself as he spun around. 

“Anakin?” You questioned, seeing the man before you. He certainly wasn’t a padawan any longer. 

Anakin looked past Obi-wan to see you and a smirk crept onto his face, “Oh I see. I’m sorry if I was interrupting anything.” 

“Come here.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a hug, “You been keeping Obi-wan in line?”

He chuckled and hugged you back, “Always.” 

You let go of him, “Good, good.” 

Before you could begin scheming with Anakin about ways to annoy Obi-wan, he placed his hand in the middle of your back, beginning to lead you as he walked, “Why don’t you join us in the meeting? We can catch you up on what you’ve missed.”

You nodded and followed his lead. And there was definitely a lot to catch up on.

Your role in the clone wars was to assist any teams that needed an extra hand, mostly on stealth missions as it was your specialty. After sitting through meeting, after meeting, you finally had some time to be alone with Obi-wan later that night. The moment he had shut the door to his room behind him, you were on his lips. The two of you muttered endless ‘I missed you’s and compliments to each other. You particularly let him know how hot he was with a full beard. That night was passionate, needy, and sloppy. Everything the two of you needed it to be after not seeing each other for so long. 

However, the next day you were diving head first into the chaos of war. There was almost no time to breathe with all the moves the Separatists were making. There were moments to catch up with Obi-wan between battles and meetings, but one of you were always on the move to your next objective. The next time you had any substantial quality time with him was after Satine died. Obi-wan needed your support. He needed a sound voice in his head to keep him sane. Something to quiet all the hatred, anger, and guilt he felt. 

You were sitting on the edge of Obi-wan’s bed with your hand gently rubbing circles on his back, doing whatever you could to soothe him.

“He’s taken everything from me.” Obi-wan had his elbows resting on his knees, his back hunched and his head hanging low. 

“I’m so sorry.” You spoke in a hushed, gentle tone. “He’s not worth taking up space in your mind. The balance of the force will come back around, he will pay for what he’s done.”

“I know it’s wrong… But I want to make him pay myself.” Obi-wan’s hands tightened into a fist against his pants. “I want to kill him.”

You could feel your heart cracking and aching for the man besides you. You’ve always known him to detest violence, only resorting to it when there was absolutely no other choice. 

“These feelings and your anger are natural, Obi. We will get through this, together.” You assured him. 

“I just can’t believe she is truly gone…” His voice trailed off, he was silent for a few moments before you felt his body begin to shake and the sounds of his sobs were filling the room. 

You pulled his body closer to you and gently laid down on the bed with him. You were laying so you were facing each other and you had an arm wrapped around Obi-wan. He had curled up his body to a fetal position and held your hand that wasn’t rubbing his back. The two of you stayed like that all night. Eventually Obi-wan’s breaths had evened out and he had fallen asleep. But you stayed up almost the whole night, watching over him. Thinking of anything you could do to lessen how bad he was hurting. 

You two had also spent the next day together. Taking things easy, watching cheesy movies like when you were padawans, and trying to convince Obi-wan to eat. Despite his tragic loss, in a few days he was getting back to his normal self. 

“You can stop worrying about me, you know.” Obi-wan spoke, his back turned to you while he poured a cup of caf in a small cafe area just outside the main mess hall.

You had been watching him like a hawk from the table you sat at, worried that any reminded or mention of Satine will have him crumble to the floor. But you also knew how strong he was, arguably the wisest Jedi Master and one of the top Generals in the war. 

You sighed, “I can’t help it. You know you’d be doing the same thing if you were in my shoes.” 

Obi-wan walked over to you and placed a mug down in front of you as he sipped his own, “I can’t argue with that.” 

You smiled up at him, though your sadness for him was transparent. You thanked him for the beverage and took a sip. 

There had been a thought stewing in your mind, festering and bringing on so much guilt. As hard as you tried to hide it, Obi-wan knew something was going on. 

“What’s on your mind, darling?” Obi-wan asked as he sat down across from you. 

You looked into his eyes, “I just… I know how much you loved her.” You winced as the words tumbled out of your mouth. This was not the right time to talk about the love triangle that was between you, Obi-wan, and Satine. 

Obi-wan reached out and took your hands in his and gave you a soft smile, “I did love her. But… it wouldn’t have worked for us. Even if she were still here, we led two very different lives and had pledged our lives to different causes.”

You nodded slightly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bringing this up right now.” 

“Don’t be. Loss brings up many emotions.” He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss before letting go. 

Just then, Anakin walked into the room. Luckily it was just after Obi-wan had let your hands go. 

“Alright, we gotta get a move on. I so graciously got us all on a mission together.” Anakin announced, hands on his hips and feeling obviously proud of himself. 

You exchanged a glance with Obi-wan before getting up and embarking on your next adventure. 

The war trudged on for about half a rotation longer, then something in the tides seemed to change. Anakin was growing alarmingly closer with the Chancellor each day and the Jedi council was not happy about it. Obi-wan was just assigned to defeat Grievous on Utapatu while you had just received a message from Ahsoka requesting back-up on Mandalore.

Obi-wan and you had gotten into a habit of taking turns sleeping in each other's rooms whenever you had downtime at the Jedi Temple. When you two would be on missions together you would share a room for “safety”. There had been a few times when you two had been sharing Obi-wan’s bed that Anakin would barge in and you would throw the excuse of falling asleep while discussing work in his face. Anakain would usually roll his eyes and mumble a ‘sure’ or ‘yeah, right’ before impatiently waiting outside the room for Obi-wan to collect himself. 

That’s where you were at the moment, stuffing a few items into a bag before rushing off, and Obi-wan was doing the same but not as hastily as you. This was the most anxious you felt for a mission in a long time. You were going to have the chance to help capture Maul. 

You closed your bag and triple-checked off your mental list. You were only torn from your thoughts and anxiety when you felt Obi-wan’s hand on your shoulder. 

“You’re shaking, darling.” he squeezed your joint lightly.

You shifted your attention fully towards him, “This is a big fucking deal… I’m scared.” 

Obi-wan gave you a sympathetic smile, “You and Ahsoka will do what is needed. I have complete faith in you both. There’s no one I would trust more to this task.” 

You reciprocated his smile and leaned your cheek against his hand, “Thank you.” 

You took a few deep breaths to calm your mind and body, letting the words sink in. Having regained some confidence, you moved to stand in front of Obi-wan and placed a kiss on his lips. He happily returned the gesture and moved his hands to your waist. 

You reluctantly pulled away from him after a few moments and rested your palm against his cheek, “Stay safe, Obi-wan. I’ll see you when we get back.” 

“You too. May the force be with you.” He placed a final kiss to your forehead. 

“And with you.” You bowed slightly to him before walking out of the room to hurry onto the last ship of reinforcements that was leaving for Mandalore.

-

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you were dangling from a steel beam. Maul had finally been captured, Ahsoka had got him. You used the last bit of strength to pull yourself up as there was a stun blast sent directly to Maul and he fell unconscious, wrapped in cords by the clone troopers. 

In between pants to catch your breath, you looked to Ahsoka who was standing on the steel beam across from you, “You did it.” 

She turned her head to you, “No. We did.” 

She graciously hopped over to you and helped you into one of the ships that had just flown up. The battle had taken all day and night, you just needed to oversee the transfer of Maul and make contact with the Jedi council. 

While Ahsoka spoke with Master Windu and Master Yoda, you mostly stayed quiet, as it was her mission that led to the successful capture. You had a glimmer of hope that perhaps Ahsoka would come back to the Order after the mission, but that hope was dashed when she referred to herself as a citizen. 

It was midday when you said your goodbyes to the Mandalorians and headed back to the command ship.

It was midday when everything went horribly wrong. 

It hadn’t been long since you jumped into hyperspace when the clone troopers turned on you and Ahsoka. The two of you got separated almost right away and it wasn’t until you nearly took her head off in the medical bay that you got reunited. Ahoska quickly got you up to speed on the theory of the clones’ inhibitor chip and that she had let Maul go to create a distraction. 

“You let him go?? Willingly?” You could see her way of thinking, but it was devastating to hear. 

“I know, I know. But it was the only thing I could do to give us a fighting chance.” She explained as numerous droids began to run tests on the unconscious Rex laying before you. 

When you took a moment to think about the last few minutes, it wasn’t until you heard loads of gunfire and clone troopers yelling commands in the distance for you to be able to kill the clones that had cornered you and then managed to escape to the med bay. You had a close call, a blaster shot grazed your side and you had been tending to your wound when you heard someone approaching the door. 

“Thank you.” You spoke softly, looking to Ahsoka once again, “You did what needed to be done.” 

“Don’t thank me until we get off this ship alive…” She muttered and took over locating the inhibitor chip in Rex. 

Once the chip was successfully taken out of Rex, the three of you devised a quick game plan on how to survive at least one more day. 

It took a lot of close calls, some skill, and a little luck, but you, Rex and Ahsoka were able to make it off the ship and away from the clone troopers. 

The three of you had only caught your breath for about 10 minutes before you piped up, “I need to go back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” 

“What? Are you crazy? We just escaped one war zone and you wanna go to another?” Rex turned to look at you in bewilderment. 

“I agree with Rex. It’s too dangerous, we need to find somewhere to lay low.” Ahsoka supported the clone’s notion. 

“You two can. I can’t… I have to find Obi-wan.” You explained, a bit in your stomach began to grow as you realized there was a good chance he didn’t make it. You and Ahsoka both felt the massive amount of loss and darkness when the clones turned. 

Ahsoka called your name, bringing you out of the dark thoughts, “I want to find him too, but…” She stopped herself, seeing the hurt on your face. She didn’t have to finish her sentence, you both knew the grim reality of the situation. 

You took in a breath and forced the next words out of your mouth as sternly as you could manage, “I have to find him, Ahsoka. I love him.” 

Ahsoka could only look at you with pity and hurt, knowing there was nothing she could say to stop you. 

Rex glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. He may have been bred and programmed for war, but even he knew the kind of love you meant was more than a friend. 

“Please.” Your voice broke, strength and stoicism failing you. You didn’t have the energy to hide your feelings anymore. Ahsoka sighed in defeat, “Okay. We’ll find a system nearby safe enough to stop at. Then you can take the ship. Rex and I will make our own way from there.” 

You nodded and tried to relax in your seat for the rest of the ride. 

-

You were on your way to Coruscant, in hyper-space when an encrypted message came on your comlink. It was a warning for any remaining Jedi to stay clear of the Temple. You knew it had to be Obi-wan’s doing. He’s the only fool brave enough to walk into a trap just to warn others. You hadn’t been able to contact anyone when you were aboard the ship, fighting for your life. You decided to try one more time. 

You put out your encrypted distress call to all Jedi frequencies, and a separate one to Obi-wan, Anakin, and Padme’s personal comlinks. Sitting with the dead silence of space was becoming more unsettling with each passing moment. Just when you had lifted your finger to shut off your distress signal, a distorted crackling came over the radio from Padme’s comlink.

“Hello? Padme? Can you hear me? Are you and Anakin okay? Have you seen Obi-wan??” You hurled rapid fire questions at the static filling your cockpit. You held your breath waiting to hear a reply. 

“Darling? Darling, it’s me.” Obi-wan’s voice came over the static.

You let out a cry of relief and disbelief, “Obi-wan?? Is that really you? You survived?” 

“Yes… I have a lot to explain, but I’m sending you coordinates. Get here as soon as you can, it’s not safe to talk on here for too long. But, I’m glad you’re safe.” He audibly sighed in relief

The coordinates popped up on your computer screen, “I got them. Ahsoka is safe too, we managed to help Rex as well. I… I love you, Obi. See you soon.”

“That’s good to hear… I love you too.” he replied before the connection was severed. 

-

You arrived on Polis Massa just as the twins were born. You ran inside to the medical center, escorted by a droid where you saw Padme’s lifeless body on an operating table and Obi-wan holding a newborn baby boy. Master Yoda began to bring you up to speed on what became of Anakin Skywalker, and the duel on Mustafar. 

As you sat in a sterile white command room on a new ship, listening to Master Yoda, Bail Organa, and Obi-wan discuss the next steps you should take, the world seemed surreal. “Listening” is actually a strong word, it was more like you could hear the hum of talking but you weren’t taking any words in. Everything you had ever known had fallen apart. It wasn’t until a gentle hand placed on your cheek drew you back into reality. 

The room was empty now, with just you and Obi-wan left to yourselves. You turned your head to the man next to you. 

“Anakin…” You mumbled, still in disbelief. 

“I know.” Obi-wan answered you without you needing to say another word. He dropped his hand from your face and stared at the table in front of him. 

“It was all for nothing.” He stated

“What was?” You questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Everything.” He lifted his head to look into your eyes, his own filled with tears. “Qui-gon and Satine died for nothing. Dedicating my entire life to a code that now ceases to exist. And depriving myself of you.” 

You were speechless, not even a thought could form in your mind. 

“Come with me.” He continued, “To Tatooine, we can be together and watch over Luke.” He took your hands in his, giving them a slight squeeze. 

You nodded, “Of course, all I’ve ever needed was you, Obi. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

A small smile formed on your lips, and Obi-wan matched it. He gently pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry it took so long, that it took all of this for me to realize what I truly wanted.” He began to apologize, but you started to shake your head slightly.

“It wasn’t just you. And we made it. We’re here now.” You reassured him, and sealed it with a deep kiss you poured all your love into. 

He returned your enthusiasm and pulled you onto his lap to bring your bodies closer together. The two of you stayed in that room, sharing sloppy love filled kisses for what felt like hours. You had to make up for lost time somehow. You made mental notes of how his lips felt against yours, how he tasted, the way his beard and mustache tickled your face. You never wanted to forget this moment. 

You swore you could have stayed on top of him for eternity, but the jolt of the ship switching into its landing sequence interrupted you. Reluctantly climbing out of Obi-wan’s lap, you took a moment to take in his messy hair and swollen lips.

“Only you could make me horny on the worst day of my life, Kenobi.” You chuckled slightly and brushed your fingers through your hair. 

“Well, I could say the same thing about you.” He bantered, following your motions and fixing his own hair. 

The two of you quickly boarded a different ship once the current one had landed on Naboo. The three of you were now in hiding. Everything you grew up with, your morals, values, your way of life now had to be kept secret to ensure your survival. Obi-wan had barely set down the baby, Luke. You could sense how much the child meant to him, he and his sister are all that remains of Anakin and Padme. You sat in the cockpit and took off, setting the course for Tatooine, where Anakin had some family that would take in Luke while you and Obi-wan silently watched over him. 

After arriving on the desert planet and an uncomfortably long ride on an eopie, you could see the lights of moisture vaporators come into view. You unraveled your arms from around Obi-wan’s waist as the creature laid down for him to dismount. He carefully swung his leg over to the side and stepped onto the dusty earth. 

You reached out your hand to gently take the baby’s smaller one, “Goodbye, Luke. Stay out of trouble.” 

You let go of the child and Obi-wan walked over to Owen and Beru who had just emerged from their home. He carefully handled Luke, swaddled in a soft white blanket to Beru. She smiled at him before walking over to her husband, who was watching the suns set. 

When Obi-wan had made his way back to you and the eopie, he silently got on the animal and started to head toward the Jundland Wastes. It would become your new home while you quietly watched over Luke from a distance. 

~Fin~