#star wars is never good writing

[stars-n-spice]

Star Wars Fans stop being so fucking stupid challenge (Impossible!!)

Saw on Instagram that Star Wars posted a still from AotC and every man baby in the comments was like "When Star Wars was good" and all that bullshit.

They were like "Back when it was good writing" or "Finally no more Acolyte" and shit like that and I just,,

First off,,, calling AotC "good writing"??? PLEASE! I say I love AotC and that it's like my 2nd favorite Star Wars movie, but I actually only watch the 20 minutes that Jango and Obi are in it and the rest of it is so fucking boring 😭 If you think that AotC is good writing then buddy, do I have news for you.

Also,, all of them complaining about how much attention the Acolyte is getting?? Like it isn't the ongoing series that's now streaming??? And therefore is getting attention and marketing things for it???

Are you fucking stupid??

Actually, no. Yes. They are. They are so fucking stupid.

I can only hope that Star Wars gets to a point where it's so "woke" that all these crybabies fuck off and go somewhere else because goddamn if you're going to piss about something so much then don't watch it?? Don't engage with it anymore?? Fucking idiots??

I wish I could explode these people with my mind.

[tangents-within-tangents]

Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs. 

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people. 

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before: 

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding: 

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful. 

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual: 

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

So

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience. 

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass 

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation. 

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life. 

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation 

[mamawasatesttube]

i am going to say something that is . well i don't think it's controversial in that i don't think it has been said enough to cause controversy to begin with but skjdfhjds listen. hear me out

tim/ber/kon <<<<<<<<< timiveskon

on the one hand you have an uphill battle to convince me why these characters would even give a shit about each other (plus i mean megfitz massacred their characterizations and thats a whole extra mess) and generally it just reads to me as just treating kon as tim's spare love interest uwu without any care about his character.

but on the OTHER HAND.... timiveskon? chefs kiss. kon and ives are instantly bonding over nerdisms. they are both standing on the table and yelling about the rereleased edition of return of the jedi and kon is going on about how he has the original literally downloaded into his brain and ives thinks that's the sexiest thing he's ever heard and tim is just sitting there consumed by lust while they both yell about greedo. it practically writes itself. come on

[chaosk1ng]

I like the idea of Isaac Clarke constantly being on edge for different crossovers cause there’s no way in hell he would be okay with seeing aliens, military or “magic” in any universe after the whole thing with necromorphs and markers.

I can’t lie and say that I don’t think of this every once in a while. I do and usually it’s because I think of scenarios that are hilarious to envision. One of the most recent ones is a Star Wars one. I can see it at any point in time in Star Wars (I’m ignoring the Sequels because I forget they exist and couldn’t care less about them) and see it as the end of the remake since it was the only one I’ve played so far.

I like the thought that people would assume he’s a Mandalorian Jedi or something. The man only has his suit and weapons that aren’t even meant for combat, and is surrounded by planets and beings that he knows nothing about. Not only does he have this going but he can slow down areas and move objects seemingly with a flick of his wrist to anyone who sees him use the stasis or kinesis modules by chance. He would have to wear his suit whether he likes it or not but would probably prefer it since he would be on edge because of his most recent experience and would want to be protected from any harm.

Anyway, he would likely travel around in confusion, fully suited, and may only take off his helmet when in the ship he used to get away from Aegis VII. Depending on where on the timeline he is placed, people will either think he’s a new type of mandalorian, Jedi, both, or something inspired by them, I’m thinking this one for pre empire. If this is during or after the empire then he could be seen as a new version of mandalorians or someone who is like a weird amalgamation of both, or trying to be both. I don’t think a lot of people really know what qualifies as a mandalorian or Jedi since in the Mandalorian, Din is told to go to Mos Pelgo because there might be a mandalorian but ended up being Cobb and Jedi are pretty much seen as myths and are essentially extinct.

This ties into the post empire line of thought. I know that there are ways to get him to interact with characters from Star Wars but this is one of the only ones that feel kinda natural. For this one I can see him meeting Din because of the reason I mentioned before. He could be seen around enough that people think he might be a mandalorian, Jedi or both. I see it taking place during the first or second season of the Mandalorian when Din is looking for both a Jedi and Mandalorians. Something could happen that leads him to finding a lead to another mandalorian, who might be a Jedi, traveling alone.

He could eventually find Isaac after much difficulty because there is no way in hell Isaac would spend much time around aliens, he would probably only do some jobs here and there to make some money in this new universe to survive. Isaac could get used to the new species over time as he does more jobs which are probably based on engineering or maybe a little bounty hunting but not as much since he wouldn’t be that good at it. The engineering jobs would get him familiar with the technology of this universe, he could probably use some of his skills and use them to adjust certain things to be operated kinda like the tech of his universe.

On the topic of Isaac experiencing his new universe, he would likely still use the tools he uses in Dead Space. He would only have experience using his tools and not any other type of weapon so he likely wouldn’t use weapons of any kind. He would probably get a blaster just in case but never really use it, maybe reverse engineer it or try to understand how tech in this universe worked. Maybe because of his weapons and modules that people start taking note of him, aside from his unique suit.

Anyway, Din would hear about this somehow and would eventually find this dude who is barely seen. Depending on what part of the series this takes place, he can either think Isaac is another type of mandalorian if he’s already met Bo-Katan, or think he’s another person posing as a mandalorian if it’s after Cobb but before Bo-Katan.

Both Din and Isaac would be confused as hell regardless, this is a good way for them to learn about each other and become acquaintances. This could either lead to the two talking every once in a while or become partners of sorts with Isaac joining Din on his mission and using any ties he may have created to try and help. Either way, Isaac would be a good ally for Din to have and could help him a lot in situations like with that spider thing when he’s transporting the frog woman, or something as important as Din fighting Gideon. On the note of the spiders, Isaac by now has a lot of experience shooting off legs and tiny babies that can climb and shoot things at him. Maybe he tells Din about that fact and both confuses and concerns him if Isaac doesn’t really tell him about the Ishimura and the necromorphs.

I think that Din would be interested in Isaac’s weapons and how his suit works since they have nothing like them or the RIG he has. They could learn more about each other this way and about their respective universes. Isaac can learn about things like beskar, blasters, tech, Mandalorians (Mostly, if not completely, about Children of the Watch), and maybe some tips or stories Din has collected during his time bounty hunting. In turn, Din can learn about Earth, RIGs, how Isaac’s weapons work, and eventually things like the Ishimura, Necromorphs, Nicole, Unitology, the Marker and such. Either way, these things would happen as they get closer and more comfortable together.

Sudden thought, Grogu can get two dads by the beginning of the show and gets spoiled like hell by both, can’t convince me otherwise. Both Din and Isaac would probably just co parent rather than see each other in a romantic light in the beginning if anything. Isaac would’ve just come to terms with Nicole’s death and would be grieving or repressing it so it would be too early for that type of relationship. Regardless of where in time the two meet, Din likely wouldn’t feel ready at all for that type of thing since he was mostly occupied bounty hunting before he got Grogu. They don’t have to get together but honestly it would be kinda cute to see now that I think about it. The two would probably get together sometime during or after season two since season one can be used to get them close enough to be comfortable enough to be kinda reluctant to stop traveling together.

Another thought was if the two met right after Din gets Grogu and has the Razor Crest stripped. Isaac is confused but decides to help the man and the weird child out so he can find someplace to get supplies. Once they get to Navarro, the two part and after Din decides to go back for the child, he could run into Isaac and get his help getting the child back or run into him as he’s trying to escape. Either way, Isaac would be stuck with Din cause he would follow him to his ship and help get the child out. Regardless of how and when they meet, I can see Grogu getting two dads.

Instead of a clan of two it would be a clan of three. I can see Isaac being extremely happy about this after everything since he now has people he cares for and will fight for in this new universe. In turn, Din would be happy to have a family, a child he cares for but is willing to give up for the child’s wellbeing but willing to go to great lengths to protect and a partner that is more than willing to go the same lengths for the child and can fight with weapons no one else has. The three of them would be a good family for each other and would be heartbroken to eventually let go of each other when Luke takes the child.

Luke doesn’t have to take the child but if he does then both Din and Isaac would have each other to help ease the pain and would be there for each other. Din can still get the N-1 or they can use Isaac’s ship if they still have it. It would be useful because it’s pretty much untraceable since it’s not from that galaxy and could have parts added at this point to have parts normal ships would have. It has enough space for the two of them and the child when they get him back in bobf.

Speaking of, Boba and Fennec would have some opinions about the two. I see it as mostly judgment, both Din and Isaac would probably think it’s because of their choice in partners or something but in reality be because of their lack of knowledge about a lot of things. Imagine the four of them in Boba’s palace and maybe someone mentions Jabba and Isaac is like, “how did this jabba dude die?” and Din saying something like “not sure, heard he got killed by a slave girl or something. Don’t know, wasn’t really important for my bounty at the time.” But yeah, I think the four would get along but the judgment is real but they care for their idiot friends.

I don’t think Isaac would become a mandalorian, even if he ends up with Din. He would acknowledge that he’s kinda like them but he couldn’t commit to something like that, not even to Din’s way. I think the whole thing with Unitology, his mom, and Nicole kinda ruined any chance he would follow something like that or anything that might resemble a religion, cult, or a certain way of life. I think he would be like Boba, he is kinda like a mando, looks the part and acts it but doesn’t commit himself to it or follow any way, just respects it.

I think the Armorer wouldn’t really care if Din ends up with Isaac if he is already part of his clan but Paz would need convincing and would probably judge Din for getting with an outsider. I can see Paz challenging Isaac in a fight or seeing him do something that might gain his respect. If Isaac helped Din rescue the child and helped get him out of Nevarro then I can see Paz already respecting Isaac and being satisfied with Din ending up with Isaac since he’s already proved himself to him and the others that day. I can see Isaac coming with Din and when he finally finds the two but he doesn’t have to be there.

It’d be funny if at that point they weren’t together and both the Armorer and Paz are both judging and disapproving how long he has been with Isaac but not even trying to get with him. They would already know about how good of a choice Isaac would be as a partner and try to make him realize it. This could be a way that Don realizes he likes Isaac romantically. I know Paz probably wouldn’t be interested in Isaac but he’d probably help by saying or implying that he would go for Isaac if Din didn’t.

Maybe Din doesn’t realize right away, he can get upset at the thought of Isaac ending up with someone else or Paz. He could question why he’s so upset at the idea and thinks that he should be happy for Isaac if that happens. After that Paz can try to hit on Isaac if they meet or send gifts that he knows would upset Din, maybe tell a few childhood stories of the two when they were younger. Din gets upset and starts to think about what would happen if Paz or someone else did succeed in getting with Isaac.

He would lose another presence that he has gotten used to being around, he would lose the last of his clan of three, regardless if Isaac is a part of the clan or unofficially a part of it. If he and Isaac are using Isaac’s ship then he would likely have to get a new one and move out. If Isaac got with someone, he would talk to him less and would eventually stop completely because he no longer has any reason to be around him, Isaac was only with him to help with the child and he’s gone. Even if he didn’t get with anyone, he likely wouldn’t get with Din since he probably would’ve mentioned Nicole at this point and likely wouldn’t be interested in men if he doesn’t really respond to Paz’s courting.

When Din thinks of this, he thinks about how it would affect his future and realizes he wouldn’t know what to do, just like now, because he couldn’t see a future without him or the child anymore. He has grown used to them to the point that losing both of them would tear him apart, he would be listless, a shadow of what he used to be. Din would be even more lost than he already was and didn’t really realize how much he loves Isaac and now thinks he has a chance of losing him forever if he can’t get him to stay. He would probably feel stupid for not realizing it earlier and try his best to woo Isaac, even if he’s not interested in men, not knowing that he already loves him.

He would try his best when it comes to it but he wouldn’t be good at it since he lived in the sewers and doesn’t know how people in Isaac’s world court each other so he’s just fumbling, Isaac thinks it’s charming. Isaac probably realized he loved Din long ago and tried to flirt with Din or express his feelings by giving him little trinkets or weapons and try his best to court him in a way a mandalorian might like but, like Din, he doesn’t know how courting works for them. He probably tried a few times and got no response cause Din didn’t know he was trying to hit on him and thought he was being friendly. Grogu probably knew, he was either told by Isaac or felt it from the force and tried his best to help but Din was dense and didn’t realize. He probably gave up on it and decided to cherish his time with the two of them until Din found someone he would want to settle with. He just hoped that if Din kept the child he would still be able to visit the two.

Isaac would find Din’s new behavior charming but would be saddened because he would think he’s either trying to let him down softly, make him feel better after his attempts, or softening the news of Din possibly leaving. He would probably confront him about it before Din confesses and would think he’s trying to make him feel better but hope it’s true. He would tell Don straight that he stopped going after him because he thought he wasn’t interested when he was trying and didn’t want to pursue something that would lead to nothing.

Din would probably feel like a bigger idiot and lets Isaac know he is more than interested, that he couldn’t see his future with anyone else, he couldn’t see it without him in it and that he didn’t realize it until after Paz and the Armorer let their opinions about it known and when Paz stated he would court him. The two would get together and eventually get the child back. I feel like this would happen but I can see them getting together before the end of season 2 as well.

That aside, Isaac meeting Ahsoka would be interesting. She’d be very confused about why this Mandalorian’s friend can slow people down and move objects despite not being force sensitive. He might give a brief explanation to her about the stasis and kinetic modules but not a lot of details since he tries to keep them hidden. Isaac would probably explain that he has a limited supply that he can use since that universe doesn’t have the shop options there. He would’ve had to make something to replicate the ammo for his weapons and would’ve taken longer for something to replenish the stasis to be made.

Luke and Isaac meeting would be interesting but not even Din really meets him, only sees him when he takes Grogu. Luke learning about Isaac from Ahsoka would be interesting. She only knows a little about Isaac, has seen him fight and knows a little of what he’s capable of but something is off about him. He’s close to the mandalorian and child but the force is off about him, he’s completely null in the force. The force doesn’t touch him, it’s like he isn’t there but they know he is, Ahsoka has seen him kill people, interact with them, she knows he’s there but he just isn’t force-wise. He’s an anomaly, and both Ahsoka and Luke are curious but will leave him be.

I forgot about Cobb, Cara and Greef so imma speed run. If Din meets Isaac before Cobb he would be a big help when it comes to dealing with the Krayt dragon since he defeated things like the Leviathan, the Leviathan Remnant and the Hive Mind. This is to say that Cobb would like Isaac. Cara and Greef would like him since he can handle both the child and the Mandalorian and see him as their wrangler. Maybe when Grogu force chokes Cara he steps in instead of Din and stops him and teaches him a little he knows from his kinetic module and how to tell friend from foe, when something is serious or not. Greef would only really know Isaac from the glimpses of him he sees but likes him since he is close with Din and Grogu and shows how he would go to great lengths for them both. When they do properly meet, he likes him since he helped him against the Imps and chooses to stick with Din despite being offered a place like both Din and Cara. He thinks the two are a couple people should be scared of with how well they work together and how protective they are of each other and their green child. Overall, all three of them like Isaac and all think they're already together at that point and probably laughed their asses off when they did get together.

I can’t do anything past bobf since I stopped watching the Mandalorian after season 3 episode 3. My rant had spilled and now I don’t remember my original thought process and now I’m shipping Din and Isaac. Goddamn it, I need to stop thinking.

[thefrogdalorian]

From Now Until The End

Summary: After being away from you as part of his job with the New Republic, your partner Din surprises you with a trip to the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine to make up for it. But instead of the fun-filled day he had planned, you are overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds and noises. It leads you to finally share a part of yourself with Din that you had been hiding from him until now.

Rating: General Content Warnings: Descriptions of panic attacks/sensory overload. Word Count: 5446 Link to read on AO3 // Din x ND reader series

Authors note: After my post a few days ago about finding comfort in Din as a neurodivergent person provoked so many thoughful discussions, this fic just sort of landed in my lap today and I was not one to fight the muse. I really hope you enjoy it!

For the first part of your life, you had believed you were somehow cursed, such was the way bad luck was drawn to you like a womp rat to the sands of Tatooine. How did everything seem so simple for others when nothing ever seemed to go right for you? Had you missed out on some kind of crucial meeting that taught everyone else to be a functional human? Or were you just fundamentally broken? Getting a diagnosis of autism thanks to a knowledgeable healer that you had encountered quite by accident, had finally answered some questions for you and helped you to navigate the galaxy in a different way, allowing yourself far more grace and compassion than you ever had before. But it didn’t make all of your problems instantly vanish.

But your fortunes had changed forever on that fateful day when you had first encountered a man hunting imperial remnants for the New Republic in the course of your work in a Cantina, a job you loathed. He had strode in, seeking information that you had been happy to give him.

You were stunned when he had tried to give you some credits for it, it was just the right thing to do. You had always had a strong sense of justice. Sure, your boss probably wouldn’t be too happy if he had caught you fraternising with customers and conspiring to capture Imps with a Mandalorian, rather than doing your job. Which was, to pour flagons of spotchka and keep the peace. But the man in the shiny Beskar had been the first person in a while who had actually treated you like a fellow human being, rather than something to be leered at and ogled while you brought them more alcohol. You felt instantly at ease with him, the conversation flowing from your lips so naturally that you forgot he was a stranger. And you were usually so wary of strangers. To be as open as you were with him so quickly, it was clear that there was something special about this man.

People were usually wary of Mandalorians, they were still such a rarity in the galaxy after The Great Purge. But you realised after just a few minutes of talking to him, that there was something incredibly comforting and warm about the man beneath the armour. When he had left, you had felt so devastated it was almost pathetic. Of course he had left, he was only here in this backwater hellhole for a job, after all. It had been difficult to complete your shift without dissolving into sobs, you felt irritated and on the verge of a meltdown but if you were to try to explain it to anyone, even if you could find the words, it would not make any sense. A stranger had made you feel happier than you had in a long time? How was that normal?

Waking yourself up for your shift the following morning and dragging yourself into to face the most wretched hive of scum and villainy in the galaxy at your place of work had been one of the toughest things you had ever had to do. You loathed that cantina, that was situated right next to the starport on the formerly-Imperial planet in the mid rim. People were fleeting, passing through. It was seedy. There were secrets to be traded in and you knew if you weren't careful, you could pay with your life. But you had to keep going. The boss had taken you in and supported you when you were down on your luck. There was no alternative. 

But the moment when you had caught the familiar glint of that shiny Beskar out of the corner of your eye as you were cleaning glasses had changed everything. At that moment, when Din had strode back into the cantina with that confident gait that you loved so much, it was as though all the misfortune you had endured had meant something. All the suffering you had experienced in your life was all being made up for now, when Din had returned and saved you from a monotonous life on that dead-end planet, working in a job you loathed with a hellish boss. You had left that day and never looked back.

Crossing paths with Din Djarin had been, without a doubt, the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to you. Although you had still been wary of his intimidating presence at first, despite how quickly you felt at ease with him; you had come to learn that despite his hulking, armoured form, there was a heart of gold beneath that cold, hard Beskar. As your relationship had gotten more serious and the two of you had grown closer and closer, your guilt at hiding such a big part of yourself had increased. There was not an easy way to tell people that you were autistic, you had discovered that over and over since you had received your diagnosis. There were often painful consequences once others discovered that there was a hint of difference. You knew it was foolish to think that with Din, he had proven to you time and time again to be a patient, understanding man. Not least because of how he treated you, but also because of how sweet he was to his son, Grogu.

Surprisingly, perhaps because he had spent the first part of your relationship hiding his face from you behind his helmet, you had not felt the need to mask as much as you usually did. There was no pressure to make eye contact and Din was so quiet that small talk was not an issue. He was direct, a man of few words. When he did speak, it was straight to the point. Something that you found immensely comforting from the moment you met him.

You had not wanted to burden him with the secret you were hiding from him though. At first, you had not thought it was important to bring up. People usually ran away or treated you differently. In the past, your honesty had been met with rejection or unkindness. Your heart ached to think of the same thing happening with Din.

But unfortunately, hiding that part of you was no longer an option. As you sat there, cowering in a cave that you had found away from all the noise that was characteristic of the Boonta Eve Classic, you wondered how on earth you were going to explain it to Din. This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. You wanted to drop it in conversation, nonchalantly, as though it wasn’t a big deal – because why should it be? Instead, your hand had rather been forced by how upset the accumulation of events that happened to you throughout the day had left you.

Din had taken a lot of jobs recently and the two of you had spent a considerable amount of time apart. But you didn’t spend your days alone, pining for him; he had secured a job for you with his friend, High Magistrate Greef Karga on the planet where you shared a cabin with him and Grogu. It was a beautiful tract of land, just past the lava flats. You felt extremely grateful that Din had wanted to invite you into the quiet life he had built for himself Grogu. So while Din was away, you had found yourself working in the Nevarrian archives and making sure everything was up to date and in order. For a detail-orientated person who loved order, it was a perfect job for you. Even better, it came with minimal human interaction, a parsec away both literally and metaphorically from that hateful Cantina. What’s more, you had an incredibly good-natured – not to mention handsome – man for a partner and his charming son, whom you had quickly come to adore. With those big brown eyes and ears that could melt your heart when they drooped downwards, there was no way you could do anything other than love Grogu. 

But with so much time apart recently, Din had wanted to do something special to make it up to you. He had arranged to take you to the Boonta Eve Classic, an infamous event the entire galaxy over which took place annually on Tatooine. He had a friend who could babysit Grogu and it would be the perfect opportunity for the two of you to spend some quality time together. Din had told you about the time he had visited Tatooine on the day of it a couple of cycles ago but was unable to stay due to commitments elsewhere. You could see how excited he was to finally experience Boonta Eve and you would be lying if you weren’t excited too. It was definitely something on your bucket list, that you had wanted to experience for a while. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little daunted by it though, all the noise and people were sure to push you out of your comfort zone.

The heat of Tatooine was the first thing that stood out to you. Nevarro could be hot, but this was something else. It was repressive; you sweated just standing still. You wished you had dressed in something lighter, some cotton perhaps, rather than the shirt that seemed to cling to you. The bright, harsh light of the twin suns was also making your head buzz. You had felt a little shaky as you and Din climbed off the ship that had brought you here and headed for the hangar to meet Din’s friend who would take care of Grogu.

Din had introduced you to a few of his acquaintances since the two of you had gotten together and usually, you could understand why they were friends. You were about to meet the exception to that rule, though, in the form of a curly-haired, eccentric mechanic called Peli Motto. You had barely had a chance to catch your breath on this planet, which seemed determined to boil you to death, when you entered the hangar and met perhaps the most extroverted woman you had ever met in your entire life.

When you walked in, she had been conversing with some Jawas, her brown curly hair bobbing up and down furiously. Your understanding of the language was minimal at best, but it seemed to be a pretty heated discussion. Din shifted awkwardly next to you, Grogu in his arms. He cleared his throat and at once she spun around.

“Mando!” Peli exclaimed, throwing her arms up in delight. “Good to see ya, always a pleasure!”

“You too.” Din nodded in response.

“No ship today?” Peli asked, with a shrug. “Shame, I would’ve given her the ol’ once over for ya. For a good price, of course.”

“No, there wasn’t enough room. I’m here with my partner, you see.” Din said, nodding towards you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back to show that you were, in fact, an item.

“Well look at you! Isn’t Mando punching above his weight? You’re stunning.” Peli said with a grin, her hands coming to rest on her toolbelt. Although, judging by the amount of droids she employed, it didn’t look as though she did much work herself. “You know, if things don’t work out between the two of you, you give me a call. Alright?”

“Uh… alright?” You laughed apprehensively, taken aback by how brazen she was.

Din sensed your unease and swiftly moved the conversation on, removing his hand from your back and taking a few steps towards Peli, handing Grogu to her. Grogu cooed at being passed to the woman, who greeted him enthusiastically. You just stood there awkwardly, your arms felt heavy and you suddenly felt incredibly out of place, even though you were with your boys. You just wanted to leave this place behind and finally spend some quality time with Din. That was the entire point of your trip, after all.

After Din had reminded Grogu several times to mind his manners and not eat all of Peli’s food, the two of you left the hangar behind and walked hand-in-hand as you made your way towards the area where the Boonta Eve Classic was taking place. Din had splurged on grandstand seats for the two of you and, although you had expected it would be busy, as you got closer and closer, you were blown away by the capacity of the main stand. It seemed as though it could hold hundreds of thousands of people. Din must have sensed your unease since the whole interaction with Peli, as he checked in with you.

“You okay?” Din asked, looking at you. But all that greeted you was the harsh blackness of his visor, rather than the warm, comforting brown eyes that you loved so much. “Sorry about Peli, I should’ve given you a heads-up. She’s completely harmless, but I know she can be a lot, sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s okay.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just a lot busier than I was expecting.”

“It’s Boonta Eve!” Din shook his head as though it should be obvious, which only made you feel worse, somehow. “Biggest event of the year. There are a lot of people, though.”

“Yeah.” You said quietly.

“Let’s get some food. It was a long journey, you must be hungry.” Din said as he pointed towards a stall with a considerable throng of people surrounding it. “Look, I think those stalls sell Bantha cheese hoagies, We can get a refreshing glass of blue milk too.”

“Okay.” You agreed. It was true, you would probably feel better with some proper food in your system. It had taken the better part of a day to travel here from Nevarro, on one of the ships that had been specially chartered to take people to the event. 

But the food had not helped. Nor had been crammed onto the bleachers alongside thousands of others without the comfort of Din’s face to ground you. Every time you looked at him, you were met with the unmoving gaze of his helmet, rather than his warm brown eyes that you loved so much. You had tried to maintain your composure throughout the afternoon through the many races and into the evenings, Din seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want to ruin that from him. Much less could you even begin to get into why you were so upset, why you were struggling so much. He probably wouldn’t understand, he’d think you were strange. So you resolved to keep it together. It would all be over soon. You shut your eyes and took deep breaths as the final race began, knowing that you just had to make it through a few more minutes before you and Din would head back to the lodgings he had booked for the night – at great personal expense, if you had to guess.

But when the pod races had ended, after much cheering and ear-splittingly loud commentary coming from the speakers, there had been no reprieve. Instead, a fireworks display had started up, replacing one loud noise with another. If there was one thing you abhorred, it was sudden loud noises. They made you physically jump, completely terrifying you. It had been the thing that had tipped you over the edge into meltdown territory. You were trying your best to keep it together, to at least make it somewhere more private before you came apart. So you abruptly stood up, clapping your hands to your ears.

“Din… I need to leave.” You managed to squeak out before you were pushing your way along the row of bleachers and hurtling down the steps to somewhere quieter.

As you reached the bottom of the grandstand, your mind raced. Where could you go? You were somewhere completely alien to you. Plus, when you had made your way here, everything had been light. But now the suns had set and darkness had crept in. You were grateful that the harsh sun was no longer beating down furiously on you, but the lack of light disorientated you. Your vision started to blur as the tears began to fall, you were trembling, twisting your head furiously in desperate search of somewhere quiet you could get some privacy as you broke into pieces.

Mercifully, behind one of the vendors that were beginning to pack their wares up for the night, was an entrance to a cave. It was the perfect place for you to get some quiet away from the fireworks, which were still exploding all around you. Without a second thought – for your safety, for Din’s whereabouts – you darted inside the cave and found some peace. You sat there, arms around your knees, rocking back and forth as the meltdown that you had felt building pace for hours was finally crashing down with all its might on top of you. 

The sound of footsteps outside the cave did nothing to reach you, such was the distress you found yourself in. It could have been anyone with nefarious intentions, you weren’t in a position to care. You weren’t in a position to take anything in, really. But, mercifully, it was the familiar sight of the Mandalorian who owned your heart. Din had found you; of course, he had, he was not once known as the best bounty hunter in the parsec for no reason. 

“Cyar’ika? What’s wrong?” Din asked, voice full of concern as he closed the distance towards you.

He took a seat on the cold, firm floor of the cave in front of where you were currently sitting in a state of distress, unreachable as you felt the world was ending. 

“What happened?” Din asked, again. But his voice sounded slightly different this time and, as you opened your eyes and looked at him through your tears, you realised why. You could finally see the face of the man that you loved so much, the face you had been aching to see all day.

“Di- Din?” You sniffled. You respected his devotion to the Creed entirely – although he had chosen to walk a different path to the Way he was raised, he still only removed his helmet around you and Grogu.

“I’m here, cyar’ika. I’m not leaving you.” Din said, reaching out to pat your knee awkwardly, clearly scared that he was going to upset you more.

You took some deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself so you could speak to him and let him know the truth, about what had caused your sudden loss of composure and subsequent meltdown. To an outsider, you knew they looked inexplicable but inside your head, they made complete sense.

“Was it something I did? Was it the fireworks?” Din questioned, although the cave was almost entirely in darkness, you could still see the concern on his face. “I’m so sorry, I thought you knew they were part of Boonta Eve.”

“I didn’t…” You struggled for breath, “...know.”

“I’m so sorry. Were they too loud? Din asked you, you were grateful that he was keeping it to questions that could be answered with a yes or no. They were far easier to reply to in your current state.

“Yes.” You nodded your head furiously.

“Okay, okay. I think I get it.” Din said, continuing to stroke your knee gingerly. The warm pressure and presence of his hand was a welcome addition. It soothed you, rather than repulsed you as could sometimes happen when you were in a state of meltdown. “Take your time, get your breath back.”

You weren’t sure for how many minutes you sat there, trying to compose yourself so you could speak to Din and let him in. Let him know what had caused your distress. You knew what it was, but this could change everything. For a second, that made you cry harder. But then you comforted yourself with all the times Din had been understanding before, when you had returned from work upset or when he had been kind and patient to Grogu, the little boy with an immense gift.

Eventually, though, you were composed enough to initiate a conversation with the man who was so concerned about you, who you knew wanted to help you and understand what had upset you so much. You couldn’t bear the thought of him believing that it was his fault, if nothing else, you had to let him know that there was nothing he could have done to prevent this.

“Sorry for running off.” You said sincerely, struggling to meet Din’s gaze as you sat there in the cave together. “It wasn’t your fault, Din.”

“Do you want to talk about what caused it, now?” Din asked. “No pressure to but if I know, perhaps I can help you in future.”

You could have launched into a detailed history of your life, about how you knew from an early age that you were different. That, despite your human parents, you had repeatedly questioned whether you were, in fact, an alien who had been adopted, somehow. How things had not made sense until the day that healer looked into your eyes and told you those words: You are autistic. The way, even after that, things still did not make sense. How you thought that logically, having a diagnosis should make things easier to understand, that often you felt as though you understood yourself even less now.

But you didn’t. You could tell Din those things another time. For now, there was only one thing that Din needed to know. You closed your eyes and uttered the three words that could change everything for you, that could rip this man and the life you were building together away from you:

“Din… I’m autistic.” You said, shutting your eyes as though you were anticipating some kind of violence in response to the admission of your diagnosis.

When you opened them, though, there was no pain to be rained down on you. Only love and acceptance. Before you, the man you had grown so close to sat there cross-legged, his warm brown eyes widened in shock, as he nodded slowly in understanding. 

“Okay,” Din said with another firm nod, making sure that he was looking directly at you. “What can I do to help you?”

“You’ve been so understanding and accepting of me already. I just sometimes struggle to put into words how I’m feeling. It’s as though I don’t know how bad I’m feeling until I’m reduced to a blubbering mess, like just know.” You admitted. “That’s why, eventually, things were too much and I just ran off.”

“What caused it today?” Din asked, curiously. You saw no trace of judgement or a desire to pry in those eyes.

“Well, I tend to struggle with social situations, meeting new people and new environments. And also, sensory overload, when things are too bright and noisy… it makes me panic.” You admitted, fiddling nervously with the hem of the shirt that you had dressed in that had failed miserably at keeping you cool. “It was just… everything today. And I didn’t know how to say it or make you aware because you didn’t know and you might think I was ungrateful. I know how much you were looking forward to this, how much you spent on giving me the best experience. I wanted to have a good time but I just… I couldn’t…”

“Oh, cyar’ika. I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling. I can see how a busy, noisy pod race with all the sounds and people would be awful for you. Plus the fireworks display you had no idea about… Boonta Eve was probably not the best place to bring you. Nor was it wise to introduce you to someone new, especially someone as loud as Peli.” Din said, shaking his head although he was upset for himself. “And all that, somewhere unfamiliar… on a planet you’ve never been to. It’s amazing, really, that you coped as well as you did, for so long today. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you, Din. But please don’t feel bad, you didn’t know. I should’ve told you sooner… but I was scared to.” You admitted sheepishly.

“Scared?” Din questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I just….” You took a deep breath. It was difficult for you to talk about the unfortunate reactions you had been exposed to in the past. “There have been plenty of people who have not accepted my diagnosis, told me I didn’t look autistic or that it can’t be that bad. People just… they don’t understand. I was scared you’d think I was weird, that you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“Oh, cyar’ika.” Din said, shuffling to sit next to you so he could wrap his arm around your shoulder and bring you into him protectively. “I would never think that of you. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to feel so misunderstood and struggle with so many things that others find easy. I must admit, I don’t always notice lights and noises like others do, behind my helmet. It sort of creates a barrier between me and the rest of the galaxy. If I had to face the world in the same way you do, bearing my face… I would probably struggle too.”

“You would?” You questioned in amazement. Usually, you doubted how much people could understand, but with Din, there was utter sincerity there. He was noble and always true to his word, sometimes to the point of putting himself in precarious positions, you did not doubt him for a second.

“I would,” Din nodded. “Plus, as for the weird thing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when you met me I told you I was part of a Creed that meant I could never show you my face. Not only that, but I had adopted a son who was older than me. So, you know, I’m also surprised you didn’t leave me. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the galaxy.”

You laughed at that, so hard that your sides were hurting. Din soon joined you and the cave was soon filled with something other than tortured sobs. It was a welcome change for your body to be hurting rather than something other than pain and terror, for there to be warmth spreading once again in your chest.

“Good point,” You admitted. “You are pretty weird.”

“But seriously, if you ever feel yourself struggling like that again, please tell me,” Din said, suddenly looking at you seriously. “You know, if there’s anything I can do, I’ll help you. Now that I know, I can look for things that might cause you distress. I promise I’ll never put you through anything you don’t want to do. You said that today must have cost a lot and that’s true, but you know credits don’t matter as much as you do. Your happiness is my only priority… along with Grogu’s, of course.”

“Thank you, Din.” You whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

The truth was, you would never be able to thank him with words. To have someone so understanding of you… it was a debt you felt that you would never be able to repay. But Din would never ask you to repay anything.

“Just continue being yourself, cyar’ika.” Din said, squeezing you to him. “I fell in love with you because you are who you are, this changes nothing. In fact, it makes me admire you and love you even more.”

"Really?" You asked.

"Really. From now until the end... I'm by your side." Din said, solemnly.

You sat there stunned, letting his words wash over you. They were a balm to your soul, the exact thing you needed to hear. You wondered how you had ever doubted Din's faithfulness and honourability. It seemed stupid now, that you could ever believe this man would want nothing but your absolute happiness. 

"Ready to head to the lodgings?" Din asked after a few more minutes had passed.

"Let's go." You nodded, accepting Din's hand as he pulled you to your feet.

As you made your way to the lodgings Din had arranged for you that night, your hand in his, you felt as though an incredible weight had been lifted from your shoulders. He had finally learnt the truth about you and the reasons why you struggled sometimes, there was nothing to hide anymore. And he had not responded with judgement or dismissiveness, nor had he doubted how much you had struggled. He had listened, allowed you to explain and vowed to help you through it in the future.

Din's helmet was back on now, but you felt a new respect for him. To know that he found it comforting, that he liked wearing it... most people would think it was an intense personal sacrifice to wear something so restrictive, but now that you knew that Din actually found solace in his helmet, with its tinted visor and the way it made noises quieter… perhaps you would think about the steps it took to become Mandalorian.

But all those questions could be answered later. For now, it was just you and the man you loved most in the galaxy, a man who knew everything about you and still loved you as much as he had before.

You weren’t sure what you had ever done to deserve such a kind, good man... but you weren’t about to question the way the galaxy had brought you together. You were just happy that your paths had crossed at all.

*

A few days later, back at your cabin on Nevarro, you awoke in the middle of the night to find that the side of the cot normally occupied by your favourite Mandalorian was empty. You momentarily panicked when you sat up with a start and saw that Din was nowhere to be found. You placed your hand on the sheets on his side of the cot and discovered they were still faintly warm. He couldn’t have gone far. Perhaps he was with Grogu, the little boy might have had a nightmare. But as you made your way into the hallway of the small cabin, you noticed a faint light coming from the main living area of the cabin.

As you crept down the corridor, not wanting to disturb Din, you noticed that he was sitting at the small desk in the living area. Illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, you could see his curly dark hair resting on the desk. You worried for a moment until you heard the comfortingly familiar sound of his shallow, even breaths which indicated that he had fallen asleep. As you looked even closer, you noticed that there was something open on the desk. Your curiosity got the better of you as you wandered over there to see what he had been up to before he had fallen asleep with a lamp still on. A lamp that you turned off and shut the book that was sitting just above his hand, his hand resting next to it. And then you noticed the golden writing on the red cover and your heart skipped a beat.

It read, in Aurebesh: How to Support Your Autistic Loved One

You felt a lump in your throat and tears pool in your eyes. Before you could react further, Din stirred. The sound of the book shutting with a thud had caused him to stir, his brown eyes fluttered open and he turned to look up at you.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You said, teasingly.

“Hi,” Din said, wiping his eyes. 

“Doing some late-night reading?” You asked with a smirk, nodding at the book.

“Oh…” Din said, turning his head to look down at the book too. “I got it from the archives here. I just wanted to know how to help you.”

“You’re so sweet, Din.” You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, cyar’ika.” Din smiled at you, his eyes looking at you adoringly. “Let’s head back to our cot.”

As you fell asleep, your cheek resting on the warm, firm expanse of Din’s broad chest, you felt certain that you were the luckiest person in the entire galaxy. There was no one that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You had not travelled far, but you knew that you could travel the galaxy many times and never meet another person as understanding as Din Djarin.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to… because he was all yours. From now until the end.

[martianbugsbunny]

I don't love Alexsandr Kallus because he's some precious, perfect paragon of a man; that's not what he is. I love Alexsandr Kallus because he was absolutely horrible and he changed. He made amends. He uprooted literally his entire life out of remorse for what he'd done in the past and determination to do better in the future. He sacrificed everything he'd ever built because it was built on the pain and death of others and he didn't want that to be the sum of his life anymore. He went into a future where all he knew he could expect was to be hunted because he was once the hunter and he wanted to make up for it. He opened his damn eyes and he looked at what he'd done and he said this isn't right, I'm going to be different from now on if it kills me. I love Alexsandr Kallus because he changed.

[in-tua-deep]

i have a star wars fic idea floating around my brain that is just a time travel fic centering around bodhi rook where part of the explanation for a suddenly-force-sensitive-bodhi is "the monster tore parts of me out and maybe that made more space for the force to fill in the gaps"

[antiadvil]

semi cursed phan au: suits (phil is harvey and dan is mike) purely so that phil can confidently tell clients that he'll get them off and dan can cringe in the corner

[0alix0]

that moment when everyone's hyping show for anakin cameo/thrawn/ezra/etc. and you're here only for an old tired fallen jedi and his little ukrainian chihuahua-looking daughter

[luke-shywalker]

home again.

“Rey! Come down! You’re going to be late for school!”

“I’m coming, Mum! Geez!”

“Han, would you wash out the caf pot—no, wait, you broke it last time. Just leave it alone.”

“You could have a little faith in me, Your Highness.”

“Don’t ‘Your Highness’ me. Get that scrappy kid to school. And tell her not to beat up any more boys.”

“Rey, don’t beat up any more boys. Just tell ‘em who your dad is.”

“Right, Dad—and they’ll be all like, ‘Han Solo’ who?”

“For kriff’s sake, why am I getting the rough end from both my ladies today?”

“Han, language. But—sorry. Kiss! Mwah. Go upstairs and check on Ben when you come back, all right? Have a good day at school, Rey! Bye, flyboy.”

“Bye Mum!”

“See ya, sweetheart.”

The sound of the door closing.

“Oi. Mum’s always so stressed.”

“Rey. I know your mother doesn’t want you picking fights. But, as your father, I just wanna tell ya I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself, and I want you to know that if you ever feel like you gotta—”

The door closed again, leaving the rest of the conversation a mystery.

Ben sighed and rolled over in bed. The house he’d grown up in had always been like that—you could hear everything that went on from any room.

He hadn’t lived here for a long time—seven years, about? And yet, it felt like he’d never left. Or, like he’d gone back in time.

There was evidence that Rey had started using his bedroom as kind of a garage—not that she didn’t have enough space in her own room (which required one to wade through knee-high levels of…just…stuff, and rather resembled the wasteland she had been rescued from). His desk, where he used to draw pictures of his own made-up ships and write himself into fictional stories about the Rebellion, was covered in mechanical pieces and bits of wiring from Rey’s projects. But other than that, his room was largely unchanged. The X-wing posters were still there. And so was the Sy Snootles pinup that Poe had given him as a joke. He was both surprised and amused that his mother had never taken it down.

But, then, it also felt like time had moved on without him. He’d been here for a few days now—consigned here by a freak medical crisis—and watching his mom and dad and sister play out the daily orchestration of their lives kind of made him feel like he had died after high school and his family had just kept on doing their thing.

Being around Rey was the weirdest part. The last time he had lived in the same house as his sister, she’d been seven, eight years old. Obviously, he’d seen her since then, every Life Day, and a few other times each year—but whenever Rey showed up in his dreams or in his mind, she was still seven.

But now she was fifteen, and she was…him. All those memories Ben had of being a teenager, of doing homework at the dinner table, fighting with his parents over nothing, using words that meant things to his peers but that his family didn’t understand, laughing on late night holocalls with friends and getting yelled at to go to bed—that was her, now. And now here he was, twenty-five and boring.

His boringness was evidenced by the fact that he missed buying groceries and making his own food. His parents couldn’t cook. They never could. Rey could eat literally anything, so that didn’t bother her. But Ben missed making his own dinner—maybe it was about the food, but maybe it was also just about the sense of control.

He couldn’t pilot a speeder in his current condition, so he was stuck here. He could go on walks, but he didn’t want to most of the time, because it made him dizzy.

He found himself alternating mostly between sleeping, and wandering the empty house during the day. Trying to spot things that had changed. Looking at the holopicture frames. There were still holos of him, but there were more and more holos of Rey. It was like getting caught up on her life since he’d left home.

Being off work felt like summer vacation. Only…bad. Because doing nothing all day was fun for a kid—but for a grownup, it was kind of like hell. The hours blurred together into sluggish, amorphous days, and he just kind of found himself places, doing things—oh, hey, I’m here now. Now he found himself downstairs in the kitchen, washing out the caf pot that his mom hadn’t trusted his dad not to break.

That was another thing—he didn’t like the caf his mom made. She used really cheap caf grounds that she bought in bulk, which was exactly what she would do, being practical—but ever since leaving home, Ben had discovered good caf, and it was hard to go back.

It was hard to go back to a lot of things.

He set the caf pot on the rack to dry, and for a second he just stood there, looking out the kitchen window. Is this who I thought I’d be as an adult…?

Am I an adult?

And then he noticed that Rey had left the blue milk uncapped and on the counter, and the carton was sweating and becoming lukewarm, and that really pissed him off, so he capped it and put it in the fridge like it was supposed to be—and that told him, yes, he was now just a boring adult.

…Well. Maybe being a boring adult was better than being a teenage psychological mess, which was what he had been before.

He filled a glass of tap water and drank cheers to that.

Ben heard the door open, and turned to see his father coming back in.

He gave a nod. “Hey, Dad.”

“Oh, you’re up,” Han said. “How ya feelin’, kid?”

Ben imagined his dad would probably still be calling him “kid” when he was forty-five.

“I’ve been better,” Ben said, then changed the subject, because he was kind of sick of talking about his health. “So. How’s being house husband?”

“Hey.” Han pointed a defensive finger. “I am not a house husband.”

“Hey, I never said there was anything wrong with it,” Ben chuckled into his glass of water. “You’re doin’ great, Dad. Maybe she’ll even let you wash the caf pot someday.”

“Listen, kid, that was one time.”

“Oh, I’m just givin’ ya a hard time, old man.”

“Uh-huh. And when are you getting married?”

“Never. Women find me intolerable.”

“Funny. I said the exact same thing, at your age.”

“You know, I can’t believe Mom settled for you,” Ben joked, curious to see how the jab would land.

But Han just grinned and inclined his head and spread his arms in humility. “That’s what I’m sayin’, kid. If there’s hope for me, there’s hope for anybody.” He paused mischievously, and then took a shot back. “Even if you never inherited my dashingly good looks.”

“Ha! You mean I was spared from them,” Ben snorted. “Well, thanks, Dad; I’ll keep it in mind.”

Han laughed too. Insults were kind of a love language in their family, as weird as that sounded. He came over to lean against the counter next to Ben, then clapped him on the back and looked him in the eyes, like he was studying the man Ben had grown up into.

“Hey. I know the circumstances aren’t great, but…it’s kinda nice, having you home, Ben. I miss ya.”

“You do?” Ben asked with a self-conscious laugh, feeling more sentimental about his father’s words than he was comfortable admitting. “Kind of seems like your lives all went on without me.”

“Well…yours went on without us, too,” Han said, then shook him by the shoulders a little. “You need to call home more often, little buddy.”

Little buddy—Ben was a couple inches taller.

“I know,” Ben said, patting the top of his father’s graying head. “I’m just bad at it.”

“That’s no excuse.” Han tilted his head conspiratorially. “A house husband gets lonely, ya know.”

“Heh. Well. Can’t have that, I guess.”

They stood there, together. Father and son. The Solo men, Leia called them, when she was feeling playful.

“…Wanna take the Falcon out for a spin?” Han asked suddenly.

Ben turned to look at him, so abruptly it made his head hurt. “What—like, right now? I can’t pilot, Dad. The medcenter told me—”

“You can co-pilot.”

“No, Dad, I so can’t.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Uh, I get us both killed? No, wait—what’s worse is if Mom finds out.”

“C’mon.”

“Dad.”

“C’mon!”

“No!”

“Come on—”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Geez.”

“All right!” Han tousled his son’s hair as if he was twenty years younger and tossed him his boots, which Ben started putting on amidst a sea of complaints—

“For kriff’s sake, Dad, fine, but I’m tellin’ ya, I can’t see that good right now, and I haven’t even piloted the Falcon in ages even if I was healthy, and this was all your stupid idea in the first place, so don’t you go giving me hell if I happen to put a scratch on your beloved—”

Han only laughed, while Ben was still talking, and the door closed, leaving the Organa-Solo house quiet again.

[inklore]

from now on i’m only writing au’s. canon is not welcome here. never belonged. i don’t know her.

[shoulderholsterfreak]

Another thing I just thought of re: Thrawn knowing Basic in canon. Where did he learn it? Prior to the Ascendency novels being published I suppose we can assume he was self-taught in the time leading up to his mission to infiltrate “Lesser Space,” but with Outbound Flight being canon again, it was presumably Maris and Car’das.

Basically what this means is that while Padmé and Anakin were speaking Meese Caulf to Thrawn in Alliances, the man was fluent in Basic the entire time.

[sesamestreep]

Jyn/Cassian, 14

14. All my days, I’ll know your face. (from this prompt list) cross-posted to ao3 here, with content warnings and tags galore, since this one gets a little heavy... It's a Cloak & Dagger AU, it's for Zainab's birthday, it's almost a year since she sent me this prompt, just go with it! If you want to know what you're getting into beforehand, read it on AO3, please! Much love and happy belated birth to you, @firstelevens, you are theeeee best!

xvii. the moon

Jyn wakes up from the dream again. The one where she’s drowning. She’s ten years old, still wearing her clothes from ballet class, sitting in the back of her father’s car, which hass just gone off the side of the bridge into the water and it’s starting to sink. Her father is already dead in the driver’s seat and she’s never been able to tell if that’s a mercy or not, that the dream doesn’t even allow her the fictional opportunity to save him. It always starts with them already in the water. And then it ends with the same fade to darkness as a hand reaches out and pulls her to safety.

It’s a dream, of course, but it’s also a memory. One largely influenced by her childhood imagination and fears and flights of fancy and therefore pretty untrustworthy, as far as she’s concerned, but a memory nonetheless. She and her father did get in a car accident, one where he died and she survived. The rest probably doesn’t matter much, she tells herself as the gurgling waters of her dream melt into the sounds of her alarm and she finally, fully wakes.

She nearly smacks her phone off the crate she’s using as a makeshift nightstand in her hurry to get rid of the noise. She would never have set the damn thing to “relaxing” babbling brook sounds knowingly. She’s not fond of water and doesn’t find its noises soothing, for obvious reasons. She’d rather wake up to the most obnoxious beeping known to man than this shit. No wonder she’s having nightmares.

She grumbles as she rolls herself over in the sleeping bag she’s using in lieu of an actual bed while she stays here. According to the signage posted out front, this building is technically condemned, but it suits her purposes just fine. She is always welcome at her mother’s house, or so her mother says, but being welcome somewhere isn’t the same as being at home, she’s realized. Staying with her mother means supporting her mother’s bullshit, and dealing with her disappointment, and putting up with her questions. It’s better for everyone if Jyn lives on her own, even if it’s in a condemned shithole like this place. What little of its original architecture that remains suggests it used to be a church, which is pretty bleak, but the price (free of charge) is right, so she pretends not to care.

She might start giving up these afternoon naps, if she’s just going to have bad dreams all the time. They’re supposed to help her so she can stay up late and work and make more money—maybe even enough to afford a real apartment with an actual shower—but lately they’ve been leaving her more drained than if she hadn’t even slept. She’s got to get ready now—the idiot rich kids going out on the town tonight aren’t going to rob themselves, after all—but she can’t bring herself to move. It’s only when she realizes that going back to sleep might put her back in that sinking car that she manages to convince herself to get up.

vii. the chariot

Cassian stares at the ceiling of his childhood (and current) bedroom and thinks, not for the first time, of how they missed a few glow-in-the-dark stars when he decided such things were for babies and told Maarva they could take them down. She’d hidden her expression of disappointment under something more bright-eyed and understanding quickly but not fast enough that a twelve year old Cassian hadn’t seen it. Before he could take it back, she was already moving briskly to get the step ladder. That’s how Maarva handled everything after his father’s death: briskly and head on. Even when she hated what she was doing. Every challenge in life was like getting a shot at the doctor’s office: just a quick pinch and then it’s over.

It’s that kind of attitude, he knows, that’s made her so successful and transformed her into a sort of pillar of the community. She started as a member of a variety of citizen’s action groups and a leader for the local chapter of NOW and then moved her way up up to a seat on the city council. Cassian admires her for that, the way she’s turned grief into purpose, but he’s always felt less adept at it than she is. Sometimes he’s consumed with guilt that his grief has mostly just stayed as grief. He knows he could be doing more, and he knows she wishes he was too. It’s a lot to bear. It’s a lot of emotion for a couple of glow-in-the-dark stars.

He decides to get out of bed and do something with his day rather than sit here and contemplate any of this further. Downstairs in the kitchen, he 's alone just long enough to pour himself a glass of orange juice before Maarva appears with her phone pressed to her ear. She kisses him on the cheek as she goes by and Cassian hears hold music on the other end of her call, which means he's in for it.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks pleasantly as she moves to pour herself some coffee.

"Well enough," he replies, because anything else will be met with a deluge of concern that he doesn't want right now. He leaves out the part where he dreamed about the night Clem died—the one where Cassian himself almost drowned—again. He'd gone years without having that dream, to the point that he'd thought himself past it, only to have them come back with a vengeance when he moved home again after graduation. The superstitious part of him wants to blame New Orleans, with all of its supposed mystical powers, but rationally he knows it's just being back at home with reminders of his father everywhere. He didn't have this problem at school in New York, but he'd made the choice to come back and this is the cost of that decision.

Maarva nods approvingly and takes a sip of her coffee. "I assume that means you'll be working on internship applications today."

Cassian sighs. He has only been done with his summer internship at the state house in Baton Rouge for a few weeks and his mother has been on his case about what's next since the moment he got home from his last day. "I'm trying, Ma, honestly, but nagging isn't going to make an opportunity instantly materialize. You know that."

"Neither will loafing around the house," she counters. "When you decided to take a year off between college and law school, you promised it wasn't an excuse to sit around and do nothing. I just want to be sure you're keeping up your end of the bargain."

Cassian knows a lot of parents who would have been thrilled to have their kids choose to come home right after college, but ever since he was young, the plan for him was that he'd get into a good college—Ivy League, preferably, which he'd managed—and then he'd go straight to law school and follow in his mother's footsteps to a career in politics. She'd always instilled in him that it was his responsibility to help make the world a better place. And after everything that had happened with Clem, it was the only path that made any sense. But his senior year at Columbia, after spending months studying for the LSAT, he'd found himself unable to go through with the exam. The idea of law school started to fill him with dread and he'd begun to miss deadlines. Eventually, he'd been forced to tell Maarva the truth—or, at least, part of it. He said that he wanted to take a gap year to volunteer and do internships to gain practical experience and figure out what kind of law he was most interested in. She'd taken the news better than he expected, but still with the vague attitude that he was only delaying the inevitable, which, in Maarva's world, always meant agreeing with her. She still fully anticipated he'd come to his senses and follow her into politics at the end of all this. And maybe he would, but he'd like to decide something—anything—for himself, for once. He told himself over and over that this was the point of the gap year, but in his heart, he wasn't truly convinced and clearly neither was Maarva.

"Yes, I promise," Cassian says, wearily. "I'll get some applications submitted before I go out tonight."

"What's tonight?"

He hesitates before answering but he doesn't love lying to his mother, so he prepares himself for an argument. "Bix invited me to a party that some friend of hers is throwing and I promised I'd go."

Maarva looks displeased, as expected. "Is that really the best use of your time?"

"If I get my work done today then, yes," he replies. "It's a Friday night. No one's going to be reading my applications after business hours anyway."

"You're not taking up with that crowd again, are you?"

"If by 'that crowd', you mean my friends from high school, then yes," Cassian says. "They've been giving me grief for being home all summer and working only an hour away and still never seeing them. They're going to be insulted if I don't go."

"That girl's a bad influence," Maarva says, shaking her head.

"And yet she's the only person you trust when your car starts making that weird noise," Cassian points out, rolling his eyes.

"She's a wonderful mechanic, I will give her that. But I never liked you dating her."

"We've been broken up for four years now! You don't have to worry about that anymore."

His mother raises an eyebrow at him. "You're sure about that?"

He groans in frustration. "Yes, I'm sure. Bix and I are just friends these days. And if I want to keep her—as a friend—I can't keep bailing on plans with her. Besides, didn't you raise me to be a man who honors his promises?"

Maarva smiles, reluctantly. "That is an ambitious argument for going to drink cheap beer in someone's basement ."

"You're the one who wants me to become a lawyer," he says. "Arguing is a pretty important part of the job, as I understand it. Besides, I think the party is in someone's backyard, not their basement."

"Good to see that Pre-Law program wasn't for nothing, " Maarva remarks, amused.

"You could also try to remember that I'm a responsible adult and you trust me," Cassian says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That is true," she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "But it is my job to worry about you, as your mother."

"I understand that, but we've talked about reining in your expectations for me a little."

Maarva looks like she wants to argue with that, but a soft, tinny voice comes through the speaker of her phone, demanding her attention once more. "Yes, I'm still here," she says, to the person on the other end of the call. "Actually, give me one moment," she adds, putting her hand over the speaker. "Whatever you end up doing, don't drive home if you drink."

Cassian suppresses another eye roll. "Obviously not. Give me some credit, please!"

"Fine, then. Oh, and be sure to reply to your mother's email sometime today. She sent us that nice picture of Kerri at the state championships, remember?"

"I replied last night," he replies, exasperated. "Go back to your call."

Maarva nods, then, and gives him another kiss on the head before wandering off. Before she's even out of the room, she is already deep in some important conversation with the person on the other end of the phone, like nothing had interrupted her in the first place, and Cassian is left to finish his orange juice in relative peace.

i. the magician

The crowd at the club tonight is decidedly lackluster in Jyn's professional opinion. There's not enough trust fund kids partying alone for her usual grift and for whatever reason, any viable targets are looking right past her. She might as well be invisible. If she wasn't already planning on returning this dress (the tags are still on and tucked away so no one will notice them), she'd definitely be considering it now. It's clearly not doing her any favors.

Maybe she's just not in the right mood for this tonight. Her mark from last night had been a piece of work and said several vile things to her before the sedative she'd slipped into his drink took effect. Then again, she had turned around and robbed him of most of his valuables after that, so maybe they were even. If she didn’t need the money, she’d already be on her way home, but most of the things she fenced from last night didn’t net her much profit, so she’s got to find a way to turn this around.

At the exact moment she’s beginning to despair of her prospects, her phone lights up with a text from Bodhi. 

wyd?

Bodhi works security at one of her usual nightclubs and she’d much rather be there tonight, except it’s his night off so there’s no one to get her on the list without paying the cover charge. This place is her second choice—one of the bouncers accepts the adderall that she liberates from her marks as payment—so she’s happy to hear from Bodhi instead.

at the second best club in NOLA rn, hbu?

Bodhi responds with a pinned location. It’s in the middle of the woods on the other side of town. Friend of a friend of a friend is throwing a party out here. Take a night off playing Artful Dodger and come hang...

can’t take a night off, but I’ll come steal where you are, if it’s all the same

just don’t get caught, okay? I can’t keep hooking you up if people catch on

be there soon

Jyn’s phone dings with a thumbs up from Bodhi as she finishes her drink and heads for the exit. At the coat check, she makes a fuss that her number wasn’t put on the correct hanger and leaves with a more expensive jacket than she came in wearing.

x. the wheel of fortune

Cassian takes a sip of his beer and surveys the scene in front of him. The party turned out to be less of a backyard affair than a middle of the woods rager, which is a piece of information he's absolutely not going to volunteer to Maarva later. There's a large bonfire in the middle of the area the hosts (whom he still hasn't met) cleared for the party and then a spot not far off where someone's pickup truck is parked with a keg in the bed. Cassian is probably done after this drink because four years of college parties didn't cure him of his anxiety about getting caught drinking by his mother, even if it is entirely legal for him to do now, but most of the people here do not have his qualms. The guy manning the keg is keeping very busy and, since they're charging for drinks, he's also flush with cash.

On the other side of the bonfire, he can see Bix animatedly telling a story to their friend Xan and a guy from the body shop Cassian's never been formally introduced to. He's glad he came out tonight, even if all it accomplishes is getting his friends off his case. Still, he can't help feeling like he shouldn't be here. Maarva is right that he needs to stay focused on his future. Meanwhile, his friends that stayed in New Orleans together while he was away at school have bonded and put down roots in a way that makes him feel like an intruder.

It's while he's having these morose thoughts that a drunk girl collides with him and drenches him in beer, which is probably what he deserves for being so somber at a fucking party.

"Woah, sorry," she says, stumbling to a stop. "Shit, I really soaked your jacket, didn't I?"

"It's fine," Cassian says, wiping at his jacket with his hands rather ineffectually.

"No, that was super uncool," she replies and even standing completely still, she looks unsteady on her feet. She reaches out to swat at the stained fabric with her hand uselessly before she seems to catch on that it won't accomplish anything and pulls off her knit beanie instead. "This...isn't actually helping, is it?"

He laughs, unexpectedly. "Not really, no. But it's fine."

"I'm so sorry," she says, miserably, as she continues to try to soak up the beer with her hat. "I'm really not this much of a klutz normally."

"Not your first stop of the night, I'm guessing?"

She groans. "I don't look that wasted, do I?"

Cassian tips his head to the side, trying to equivocate, but it's a hard thing to walk back now. "Well, it's partially that and also you're a little overdressed for this party."

The girl looks down at herself like she forgot what she was wearing: a simple but tight black dress and heels that would do better on a dance floor than in the woods and a trendy, expensive looking jacket. He realizes, a little belatedly, that she's pretty, which is something he's going to have to ignore considering how over-served she is. Still, even in the half light of the bonfire, her eyes capture his attention.

"You got me there," she says, rolling her beautiful eyes like they're in on the same joke. “I had to put in appearance at my stupid cousin's twenty-first, which she just had to have at some bougie club with loud, shitty music and expensive drinks. But this was where I really wanted to be all along."

That last part was said flirtatiously enough that Cassian's entire train of thought slams to a halt. The effort of getting through college in one piece and with a GPA that could get him into a good law school had clearly done a number on his social skills, because high school Cassian would have been able to knock a serve that easy back over the net with little trouble and now he was just staring blankly at this beautiful woman. He tells himself that it's her state of inebriation that gives him pause and not an utter lack of game on his part.

"Uh…I'm not one of the hosts," he says, weakly, "so, you don't need to flatter me.”

"I guess not," she says, with a smirk that tells him his deflection was obvious but that she also didn't take it too personally. She holds up the beanie with grim amusement. "And this is clearly not doing anything. I'm going to see if I can find…napkins? Paper towels? Something useful for absorption at least?"

Cassian snorts. "Don't hold your breath," he says, trying and failing to imagine the hosts of this kegger having something practical like that on hand.

"Yeah, well," she says, with a rueful shrug, "a girl can dream, right?"

''I suppose so."

She nods and starts to wander away. "I'll be back. Don't move," she says and then offers him an ironic little salute.

Cassian laughs to himself as she goes and then pivots his attention to survey the damage to his jacket. The thing is made of wool, which means it's absorbing the beer quite admirably, against his wishes. He probably should have told her not to bother with the napkin hunt since he'll most likely have to get it dry cleaned anyway just to get the beer smell out, but she'd seemed determined to help somehow.

A few minutes after his mysterious friend departs, Bix materializes at his elbow. "Man," she says, stepping back immediately to cover her nose, "You smell like a bar floor. I thought you promised Maarva you'd go easy tonight!"

"I did," Cassian says, scowling at her. “This is someone else's beer, unfortunately."

"Tough break," Bix replies, casting a sympathetic eye over him.

"Probably a sign to call it a night, though."

"Boo," she yells, not entirely sober herself. "You can’t go now! You said you'd buy me a drink!"

"I can do that before I leave," he says. "I just don't want to pay for a cab home and I will definitely need to if I have another drink."

"You used to be fun, Cass," she says, morosely, and he ignores how much it hurts to have his fears about himself voiced by another person.

"Do you want your beer or not?" he grumbles instead, because he knows it's not something she would have said sober and that's enough to soothe him for now.

"Of course," she says, rolling her eyes, and loops their arms together.

Before they can get very far, Cassian pats his jacket pocket to find his wallet and comes up empty. He stops himself and Bix in their tracks and searches the pockets of his jeans too, finding his car keys and his phone but nothing else. He turns around to see if his wallet is on the ground somewhere, like maybe he dropped it, and pats his jacket one more time for good measure. His hand comes away wet and he remembers, suddenly, that someone else recently did the same thing. His head whips around as he searches for her in the crowd.

"Cassian," Bix says, plainly worried. "What is it?"

"My wallet. Beer girl...she must have taken it..."

"Wait, what? Who the fuck would do that?"

"A thief," Cassian says, as he spots her on the other side of the clearing. "Hey, thief!" he calls.

Her head lifts at the raised voice, and she looks around, bewildered, before her eyes—the ones he'd been admiring not that long ago—land on him and go wide with surprise. Before he can formulate something clever to say, her face clears of its confused expression and turns ice cold before she takes off at a run.

"Son of a—!" he mutters and follows. He doesn't even think twice about it, like he probably should. For whatever reason, this stranger stealing from him tonight feels like a very personal betrayal and chasing her down doesn't register as the ludicrous idea it obviously is. He vaguely recognizes Bix calling after him in alarm but he ignores it. The world narrows to just him and his pickpocket.

xvi. the tower

Jyn has got to be more discerning about only stealing from people who can't keep up with her on foot. If nothing else, she should have given this guy a kick in the shin when she had the chance because he is fast. She's not doing her best work in these heels either, but she hadn't planned to run through mud and wet leaves when she got dressed this evening. She was supposed to be at a nightclub. Bodhi is in for it when she gets a hold of him. She hadn't even seen him at this party he invited her to before this dude caught her lifting wallets. What sort of Sherlock Holmes wannabe was she even dealing with here, anyway?

A lucky break presents itself in the form of an entrance to an old graveyard at the edge of the woods. There will be more places to hide there, she reasons, and most people are irrationally superstitious about graveyards, especially after dark. She's willing to bet Wallet Guy is no exception. She ducks through the barely open gate and sprints down a row of tall headstones, feeling the gazes of granite angels on her the whole way.

She eventually hides herself in the shadow of an ostentatiously large gravestone (or maybe it's a very tiny mausoleum) and holds her breath when she hears footsteps approach. Sherlock Jr. clearly isn't afraid of graveyards like she’d hoped. With her luck, he'll probably camp out here all night, waiting for her, completely unbothered.

"Listen," his voice rings out, echoing in the stone aisles, "Beer girl, I'm not going to call the cops or anything. That's the last thing I want, okay? Just give me the wallet back now and we're even. I'll forget your face. You have my word."

Jyn is almost tempted to snort at that but her muscles are tensed up so thoroughly, she couldn't do anything involuntarily at the moment. Still, the audacity that she should trust this guy to be cool, to bet her actual life on it; he must be joking. This is the moment she decides she's going to have to sacrifice the heels in order to get out of there, which she does not want to do because it means spending money she doesn't have to replace them. She can't think of a better plan right now, though, and she's absolutely willing to ditch them if it means giving this guy the slip. Jyn slowly and quietly toes them off so she's ready to run, while he is distracted trying to reason with her.

"I'm serious," Wallet Guy announces, like that wasn't obvious from literally everything about him. It's part of why she'd zeroed in on him in the first place. He seemed so serious that she was sure a little mishap and some light flirting would completely throw him off and make her grab for his wallet virtually undetectable. She'd only been a little wrong, to be fair. "I don't want trouble any more than you do!"

But that had always been Jyn's problem: she's never minded trouble. She can get herself out of it just as easily as she can get herself into it. Some rich kid from the right side of the tracks is no match for her in the trouble department, she thinks, and so she ducks out from behind the headstone and tries to make her escape. In doing so, however, she accientally kicks some gravel loose as she takes off running, which gives away her location. It also turns out Wallet Guy was much closer than she'd originally thought and his reflexes are better than anticipated too, because it only takes a quick heel turn and a few strides before he's caught up with her and reaching for her wrist.

"Please," he says, before there's a bright flash and a lurch like a train picking up speed too quickly and then she's being wrenched away from him with enough force that it launches her across the graveyard.

iv. the emperor

When Cassian was eight, he'd watched his father die. He'd watched him get shot by a police officer, while his hands were up in surrender, because the officer had been startled by an explosion nearby. Cassian always forgets this part—the Imperial Gulf oil rig explosion happening the same night as his father's murder—but one of those things actually materially changed his life and the other was just a thing from the news grownups were worried about. If he hadn't been right there when it happened, he might have forgotten about it entirely, for all people in New Orleans still talk about it all the time. People don't forget here, he's found. The city has a good, long memory.

There is a chance that if not for the explosion, his father might not have been shot, but even as a kid, Cassian knew the odds were bad. Clem was a Black man caught holding a stolen sound system, the one Cassian had stolen on a dare from some older boys at school that he was desperate to impress. He was ten years old and the only thing that ever seemed to matter to him in those days was seeming grown up. Clem had come looking for him when he was late getting home from school and found the stolen stereo in his hands. He'd insisted they bring it back and try to make things right with the owner.

It didn't matter to the police that Clem hadn't stolen it, that he was just trying to teach his son a lesson. Cassian's adoption had only been finalized the year before and he was still acting out sometimes, pushing the limits of his parents' patience in what a counselor would later explain to him were attempts to see what it would take to be sent away again. There was no easy way to explain to a little kid that his birth parents hadn't "sent him away" for being bad, but because they couldn't keep him, or that his adoptive parents wouldn’t do the same thing someday for some minor infraction. He just didn’t understand that back then. Still, Clem was trying to teach him right and wrong without triggering his fears. It was even starting to work. If only he'd never stolen that car stereo, everything would have been different.

But he did. And the police found him and his father trying to return it. And while Clem tried to surrender, the explosion had happened and one of the officers panicked and fired his gun. They'd been down by the docks when the police found them and, when Clem was shot, he'd fallen into the water. Without hesitation, without any thought at all, Cassian had jumped in after him. Maybe it was from a misguided place of hope, believing that something could still be done to save his father. Maybe it was out of fear, knowing that he wasn't safe with those cops after what he'd seen. Or maybe it was a death wish. Maybe in that moment, losing the man who'd been so kind to him even when he hardly deserved it, he just didn't see any reason to try to survive so he followed his father into the water because he wanted to follow him into death.

Under the water, though, he'd seen that there was no helping his father and the oil rig's collapse was only getting worse. He tried to make his way to the surface but it was impossible to see anything more than a few feet away. Everything was dark. He'd been so consumed with fear when he dove into the water that he had no clue by then how far he'd swam from the docks. He was never going to find his way back now. Just when he was truly starting to despair, there had been a sound from the direction of the rig and a pulse went through the water that hit him like a slap across the back of his head. When he opened his eyes again, there was something glowing in the water ahead of him, a pure white light he reached for instinctively. He'd felt sure in that moment, despite everything, that the light would save him somehow. He'd never felt faith or hope that certainly in his life before, and he sure as hell hasn't felt it that way since. Then again, he hadn't seen that bright light again since that night either. Until he reaches for the girl in the graveyard, that is.

xi. justice

Jyn's shoulder throbs in pain. It's the part of her that had made contact with the headstone that broke her fall, so it makes sense that it hurts, but it's going to be a problem if this guy decides to fight her. Then again, judging by the look of him right now, he's not in any condition to fight either. Whatever force just threw her back did the same thing to him. He's still conscious, though, which is only good because she doesn't feel like dealing with a dead body right now. There's something wrong with him, though. He's looking down at his body in alarm—inspecting himself for injuries, she suspects—but he freezes in horror when he sees his hands. It takes Jyn a moment to realize why but when she does, her heart nearly stops.

There's smoke coming off his hands in tendrils, but nothing's on fire as far as she can tell. It's like the smoke that comes off of dry ice except it's pitch black. From any further away, Jyn's not sure she could convince herself it wasn't the shadows moving of their accord. Based on the expression on the guy's face, he's never seen this before, but she has. On the night of the car accident, after her father died, she'd seen it.

She'd been trying desperately to get out of the sinking car, but the water was coming in too fast and the windows were all sealed shut. Then there had been an explosion underneath the water and a ripple went across the bay, knocking her backwards into the seat. When she opened her eyes, there was black smoke pouring through the windshield. It looked like someone had dumped ink into the water, the way it moved and spread its way into the car. She'd reached for it, more afraid of staying still there than whatever the black smoke could do to her. She had expected her palm to find the window when she did, but there was no glass there anymore. The smoke had dissolved it or replaced it somehow and Jyn didn't stop to rationalize how or why that happened. She swam towards the shadows and felt a hand clasp around her own and pull her to safety. And now that same smoke was pouring from the hands of the boy who'd chased her down in the graveyard.

"What the hell was that?" she calls out, shaking (she tells herself) with anger and not with fear. "What did you just do to me?"

"Me?" he fires back. "I didn't do anything! That—that wasn't you?"

"No! I couldn't—how could I do that?"

"Your hands," he says, voice shaking. "They're glowing."

Jyn looks down, then, to find he's telling the truth. Her palms are glowing with a bright white light. This is...definitely a sign of concussion. There's no way any of this is really happening.

Before she can get too far with that denial, the guy is gingerly standing up and brushing off his clothes with shadowy hands. “I've seen it before," he says, carefully. "Once."

Jyn shakes her head, still hoping to write all of this off as a side effect of a head injury. "You've…what?"

"I've seen something glow like that before," he repeats, patiently. "It was you, wasn't it? You're the girl from the beach, the night of the oil rig collapse. You saved me."

Jyn swallows hard, so that she doesn't say the first thing that comes to mind, which is that he's got it all backwards. As she remembers it, he was the one who saved her that night. She knows it's been twelve years but she can't believe she didn't recognize him immediately. His face has been haunting her dreams her entire life. She should have known him.

"That was you?" she asks, uselessly. Who else could it be? Who else would even know about that?

He holds up his hands tentatively but they're answer enough. That night was the one and only time she'd ever seen smoke like that.

"We must have—something happened to us," he starts to say, far too reasonable and certain for her taste. "Back then, or ...just now, I don't know."

Panic rises in Jyn's throat, threatening to choke her. She starts shaking her head before the actual thought has even articulated itself in her mind and she picks herself up off the ground feeling like her body is made of lead.

"I can't do this," she says, still looking at her glowing hands and beginning to back away.

"Please," he says, starting to come closer, "don't leave. I just want some answers."

The light grows brighter as her panic sharpens. "I don't have any," she shouts, over the roaring in her ears, “I’m sorry.” And then she runs.

The boy from the beach calls after her but she doesn't stop running until the light coming from her hands fades completely and she has to pick her way through the woods by the light of the moon. She puts a healthy distance between herself and him, between herself and the party and anyone who could recognize her, and gets back to a main road somehow. She decides to literally go for broke and hails a cab. Once she's given the driver a respectable residential address near enough to where she's illegally squatting, she settles back in the seat and tries to close her eyes. Something pokes at her side from her jacket pocket, though, and she remembers that she still has the wallet.

Tentatively, like she's handling something unstable and potentially explosive, she pulls the wallet out and opens it. She finds a handful of small bills, a debit card as well as a credit card, a library card and a membership card to a local grocery chain. Boring stuff, mostly, but there's also a student ID and a driver's license, which tell her what she really wants to know: Cassian Andor. She'd always been curious about the name of the boy who saved her life all those years ago and now she has it. Her hands shake with the possibility that this knowledge offers. She even has his address, if his license is up to date. She could find him again, if she really wanted to. The problem is that she has no idea what she actually wants.

xvii. the star

Cassian doesn't bother going back to the party. He skirts around the clearing and finds where he parked his car without saying goodbye to anyone. He's not even sure what he would offer as an explanation for his disappearing act if people asked. Instead, he avoids everyone and their potential questions and just goes home. It’s late enough when he gets there that his mother is already asleep, which is just as well, because he doesn’t want to deal with her questions either.

There’s so many things he doesn’t understand right now and so many questions he wants answered and the only person who could even begin to help him ran as fast as she could in the other direction. He didn’t even get her name, which is somehow the most disappointing part of all. He’s spent more than half of his life dreaming of that night and remembering her; it’s only right that he should have a name to go with that memory. Cassian sighs and wills himself to forget about it, even though he knows that’s a lost cause. He takes off his stained jacket and his muddy shoes and heads upstairs, where he doesn’t bother undressing any further before slumping down onto his bed. He tells himself he’ll actually get ready for bed in a minute, but he knows this is also a lie. After a few aborted attempts to get back up, he commits to sleeping in his clothes and pulls a blanket over his head to block out any remaining light. It feels like only a few moments later that the sound of birds chirping and singing wakes him. He wouldn’t normally notice such a thing, but these birds are loud. They must be right outside of his window, he thinks, as he throws the sheet back to welcome in the morning sunlight. He gets the surprise of his life when, above him, all he sees is the faded pink skies of dawn. He lurches up to a sitting position and looks around and finds himself on a rooftop downtown.

It must be a dream. He’s still asleep and that’s the only explanation there is. He hadn’t dreamed of Clem or the oil rig explosion or the girl from the graveyard and he’d thought it was a mercy, but this is…weirder. And it feels real. He can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and the humid, dewy air of early morning on his face. If it’s a dream, it’s a completely new kind for him. He’s even wearing the same clothes he went to sleep in, and he can feel the bruise on his shoulder from when he fell in the graveyard. And his hands, where they’re still clutching the blanket, have the black mist curling around them again.

He might not be dreaming after all, he realizes, watching the shadowy tendrils twist delicately around his wrist and into the open air. Maybe this is his reality now. Maybe he can—what? Teleport? Travel places in his dreams? What exactly did he do to get here of all places? Where is here, anyway?

A glance over his shoulder reveals the answer to many of those questions. Behind him on the roof, he recognizes a downtown landmark: the old Imperial Gulf Oil sign. The building below had housed the first offices for the later-rebranded Imperial Energy back in the day. Years ago, they’d built a huge, expensive facility across the water where their employee offices were now located and sold this building to a developer, who wasted no time turning it into expensive condos no one here could afford. They’d kept the enormous neon sign on the roof as a nod to the neighborhood’s history and probably because it’s exactly the sort of aesthetic nonsense their ideal buyers would shell out extra for. If there was any chance Cassian still believed his appearance here was pure coincidence, it was gone now. He had said he wanted answers and the universe sent him a literal neon sign. Imperial Gulf is where all of this started and it’s where he’ll get his answers.

He just has to find her first—the girl from the beach, the girl from the graveyard, the girl from his dreams.

[tenderizedjestersteak]

LOVE your star wars work immensely your characterization is immaculate and such a joy to read

thank you very much! I had a lot of fun writing the fics I wrote and I hope to have just as much fun writing in the future :]

[rubensmuse]

LIKE,

SHIT I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTER AT THE END OF KOTET. THOUGHTS I WAS ROLEPLAYING HER AS HAVING ABOUT HERSELF. BEING THROWN INTO HER FACE BY ONE OF HER CLOSEST ALLIES.

my LIGHT-SIDED JEDI became the GOD-EMPRESS OF SPACE, and I can’t even be HAPPY about the FIRST AND ONLY TIME anybody on her own team has points out how FUCKED that is, because (spoilers) IT’S NOT EVEN REEEAAAAALLLLLL

THE GAME BARELY CONSIDERS THAT I MIGHT AGREE WITH THERON BECAUSE THERON DOESN’T EVEN AGREE WITH THERON!!!! HE’S DOING A FUCKING BIT!!!!! im going to kms

[daylighteclipsed]

The way Cal’s kyber crystal breaks in half and he takes the physical scraps of his former master’s broken lightsaber and his new master’s abandoned lightsaber — both of which are (spiritually and symbolically) connected to so much pain and horror that’s kept both him and Cere trapped in the past — to forge a brand new lightsaber that’s unlike any other, able to be wielded in halves or as one staff, and is all his own.

A scrapper using the skills he was forced to learn after his whole world was upended, taking this scrap, the broken pieces of his life in front of him, and creating something new and stronger. The past can’t be changed. And once something’s broken, it’s never going to be what it was before. But you can sit with the broken pieces, forever mourning what you’ll never have back. Or you can use those broken pieces to build something new.

Creation from destruction. The past meeting the present to forge the future. Hope bursting from the ashes of despair. Cal’s lightsaber is a literal flame burning away the ice this jedi temple has been suspended in since Order 66. You need that light to cut through the ice and leave. You need it to survive. You need it to move forward.

There’s also something about BD-1 being the only reason Cal doesn’t give up here. The only reason he chooses to try to forge a new blade even with a broken kyber crystal instead of succumbing to hypothermia. BD-1 is this light from the past. It’s given this knowledge, this spark of hope, this tiny flame, by Cordova and told to keep it alive. Keep this light burning after the jedi have fallen. Find someone to help you carry it forward. BD-1 is the flame that lights the torch — Cal. And it’s shown so beautifully in this scene.