#sure they know how humanoid biology works but do the jedi know that they know? no.

[rooksunday]

a jedi, probably: look, when two beings love each other very much, sometimes they— look. children come from—

cody: contracts with darksiders?

rex: unmapped planets with a vague grasp on ethics?

wolffe: i found a cadet stowing away in a crate once

fox: there are two free range ones in the alley behind HQ most taungsdays

bly, dreamily: do you think general secura will share a tube with me?

[inquisitorius-sin-bin]

Inquisitorius-Sin-Bin's Fic Masterlist

AO3: AramsayiPregius

Grand Inquisitor x Reader Fics:

Comparative Anatomy: 4,001 Words, Rated E

Unravelling the evolutionary history of humanoid species across the galaxy has long been your passion, but a particular species has become of great interest to you. Perhaps it is the unique glimpse into the biology of an ancient, long-extinct species that they offer. Or, as the Grand Inquisitor suggests - maybe something more basal within you motivates your research. You're going to need to revise all those papers you've written after this encounter...

Whiskey and Teeth: 5,192 Words, Rated E

The Devil-Man at the bar told you not to do it, too bad you never listen. Your reckless ways are going to catch up with you one of these days, and you're going to find out the hard way - the Grand Inquisitor always gets the job done.

Blowing Cover: 7,341 Words, Rated E

You've always wanted to see the galaxy, and your line of work gets it done. Not the career you ostensibly hold, but the contract work you perform for the Imperial Security Bureau.

This latest assignment is a trickier task than the rest. Untangling an entire network takes more time and finesse than you're used to. When your updates begin to falter, you're due a visit from an unhappy employer.

The price of failure is higher than you're willing to pay, but then again, you are very good at what you do.

Canto Bites: 8,826 Words, Rated E

You never forgot the names and faces of the Jedi family that you lost. Each day you live on, making it your mission in life to avenge your fallen brethren. Tonight you have a spectacular plot in the works, with your prized stallion at the very center of it. Everything is going according to plan, until an unexpected arrival turns into a deeply intimate encounter. How far are you willing to go for one more moment with someone that you've loved and lost? Even if you know the atrocities they've committed against your own kind...

Studied and Praised + Sequel Explored and Worshiped: 32,789 Words, Rated E

You've spent your entire life as the most overlooked member of the royal family, but you have plans to change that. Once your designs have been realized, you will truly be the heir to your father's Empire. There is only one obstacle standing in your way. Surely you won't allow him to become your undoing, or will you?

Sentimental (Ongoing): 6,806 Words, Rated E

Even those left at the Jedi Temple can feel the heavy cost of the Clone Wars. Fear, loss, uncertainty- although the Order has methods for dealing with such emotions, anxiety has you analyzing your surroundings, constantly on the lookout for the next threat.

A seemingly innocuous action becomes an obsession. Seeking guidance, you are drawn to the chambers of your old Master. Attachment is not the Jedi way, but could it be the Force itself guiding you along this path?

One Temple Guard might be able to lend you an answer.

Ride or Die + Sequel Fly or Fall + Appendix (Ongoing): 248,403 Words, Rated E

It has been seventeen years since your rebirth on the plains of Utapau. An orphaned child with nowhere else to go, you were adopted by your clan leader Drago and his mate Bolen, who made you their own daughter through the unique tattooing rituals of the surface-dwelling Pau'an.

Now you lead a group of your kin to trade with a neighboring clan, when you come across a lone stranger riding across the grasslands. Nothing about him makes sense, least of all the marks he bears on his forehead in conflict with the symbols he carries on his shoulders.

You must guide him on his mission, while you ponder the secrets of his past that might just align with yours, and balance the survival of your small clan amongst two powerful opposing forces.

Other Fics:

Dr. Victre: 14,200 Words, Rated T

Unfinished series published back in 2016/2017, back when there were only 4 canon inquisitors. The lore is severely out-of-date, so if this series is continued, it will be a reboot. But! I have heard from others that the work has merit, so I will continue to keep it linked here.

[meep-morp-s]

Tell me more about twi'lek ears, my friend. I don't know anything about them and am curious, per your last conversation.

(if you're up for it, no worries if you aren't. I just like asking friends before I do the google rabbit hole search haha but no pressure!)

Okay! So you know a ton about biology and probably know what sexual dimorphism is, but for those who don’t it’s what makes the males and females of a species look significantly different from one another. Think male peacocks being colorful and the females being brown, or how female angler fish are massive compared to the males.

These differences are usually just surface level though; their insides are still going to be the same. Sexual dimorphism (as far as my very limited understanding of biology can tell me) is not something that can give a species two completely different kinds of hearing organs. Reproductive organs? Totally. But ears vs. ‘cone-shaped hearing organs’? I don’t know about that.

There isn't a lot of info on the specifics of the ear cones, but I would think they work similar to Torgruta montrals using passive echolocation but on a smaller scale. They don't look like they would have good hearing at all. How is that an evolutionary advantage to have half your population hear differently?? Actually, now that I think about it maybe it could be helpful if they can pick up different frequencies. That's a stretch though. George Lucas didn't put this much thought into it I'm sure.

But whatever it’s star wars the rules don’t need to apply!! (my personal theory is the creature design department just didn’t get the memo Bib Fortuna was the same species as the female slave dancers in Jabba’s palace. yeesh.)

So the main differences between AMAB and AFAB twi’leks is the ears and forehead ridges. It’s pretty common to see the cone ears covered up by earmuff things, so I wonder how people view the cone ears? If the beauty industry in the GFFA is anything like ours, there’s probably a million ‘flaws’ twi’lek girls think they need to cover. That along with how oversexualized they are and it seems like a lot of pressure is put on twi’lek women looking a very specific way.

So when it comes to trans twi’leks what are they supposed to do? Humans are comparatively much more similar physically, but getting gender-affirming surgeries and hormone therapy is still challenging (to say the VERY least). For a species with differences that significant I think it would be much harder. Which would just make it more amazing to have proud and happy trans twi’leks!

The earmuff covers would end up being lot more helpful in this situation for those who don’t/can’t get surgery to change their EAR ORGANS THAT’S LITERALLY CRAZY, and there are cultural things like men sharpening their teeth that one could do, too. (bonus: in legends canon, some twi’lek women had humanoid ears… i’m not saying they’re trans but they’re trans)

In regards to my OC from the other post, she keeps her humanoid ears and forehead ridges because that’s her choice, and both Jedi and Twi’lek culture do not seem the type to be at all bothered by that. The galaxy at large, especially in the Empire era is likely more bothered by deviation from the norm.

This has been me aimlessly rambling about my headcanons thank u for listening. Quick disclaimer tho: I myself am cis so PLEASE let me know if I said/assumed anything I shouldn’t have, I really just want to delve into this more and hear more headcanons on the subject!

[secret-engima]

I blame @talisward for this but like-

Before I get way into this, tagging @wolfsrainrules​ and tentatively @north-peach​ because FFXV isn’t your fandom but this is also part Star Wars and who knows you might find it funny.

What if in a Star Wars/FFXV crossover, a ship takes damage to the hyperdrive (pirate attack or unexpected meteor shower something) and the hyperdrive yeets them waaaaayyyyyyyyy into Wild Space and it crashes on the jungle islands of an unknown planet and the crew is killed in the crash.

But the crew weren’t the only ones on board.

The Galahdians of various Clans, for once all united, swarm over the strange thing that fell from the sky very warily, scuffing and chirping at each other (because this is totally an A/B/O verse, maybe even an a/b/o spin-off of Thrown to Wolves verse who knows) and they finally pry open part of it to look inside and- dead bodies. Dead bodies of strange adults and non-human ... beings that still looked vaguely humanoid and didn’t dissolve like daemons. Sprawled over in what was clearly death from the crash. They explore and find no survivors or even anything familiar. The letters on the walls are strange, the technology is strange. Everything is strange.

Then one of them finds a body dressed differently. Rather than strange, unpleasant smelling synthetic fabric, this one is dressed in spun clothes, rough and simple and practical. The body, not human but very humanoid, is curled up near a door, an expression of odd serenity and determination on their face even in death.

It’s one of the Ulrics that notices the area AROUND the body is miraculously untouched. There is destruction and crumpled metal and sparking wires in the hallway leading up to the spot, but the door behind the body and whatever is beyond is undamaged. Protected.

One of the Ostiums sniffs carefully, stiffens as he finally catches a scent other than sparks and foreign metal and strange blood, “There’s something alive on the other side,” he whispers.

An Arra presses her ear against the door for several seconds before growling, “I hear pups.”

And that’s the only incentive they need to start forcing the door open, because pups are sacred, even in a place like this, a metal ship that fell from the night sky and is filled with the dead bodies of human and non-human beings alike.

The door finally gives way with a scream of metal, letting the light spill into the room.

The collection of Jedi Younglings stare at them with wide, frightened eyes, some human, others not, all smelling of sadness and terror and the need for reassurance.

The Galahdians glance at each other meaningfully at the sight of non-human pups, then carefully set about coaxing them all out despite the language barrier, soothing the tears that come at the sight of the dead protector (who must have been protecting the pups with magic, surely) and herding them out into the jungle sunshine. While some of the Clans start working on removing the bodies for as proper a funeral as they can make (they hope star people don’t mind being burned and released to the winds, but it’s all they can do), others start trying to figure out what to DO with the new children. They can’t separate them, but these are a lot of strange children and that will be a lot for any Clan to handle. They settle on giving them to the more famed and long-standing alliances, the Ulric-Ostium and the Lazarus-Furia-Arra because the joint clans will have an easier time raising the kids and figuring out ... well. Non-human biology.

One of the Ulrics meanwhile is carefully distracting the poor scared kiddos by trying to establish some rudimentary communication. She finally coaxes their names out of them and smiles when one of the humans (human-like? If he’s a star person does he really count as human?) in the group, a boy no more than eight if she doesn’t miss her mark, steps forward and shakily bows in greeting and carefully enunciates “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Some other notes on this AU that I apparently have now: a/b/o is an Astral fiddling thing that happens over time and all the Jedi younglings are young enough that THEY develop it too as they’re raised by Galahd.

Galahd guards their Star Children zealously. Keeps them secret and treasured.

If this is not a Thrown to Wolves a/b/o spin-off, then this is still an AU where “magic” (ie the Force) can be used by almost everyone to some degree or other, just for simpler things than the specialized and extremely powerful magics of the LCs and Oracles because of Bahamut’s Blessing. Other people can still do amazing stuff with their “Magic” but it’s not armiger or Walls or superhealing/purification and it’s not as overwhelmingly powerful as LCs (who are all like- up there with Anakin Skywalker Force-power wise).

The younglings are Obi-Wan’s crechemates, they were on their way back from Illum or something when the hyperdrive yote them to Eos. They quickly figure out they’re on a planet so far away no one knows Galactic Standard and that no one has space travel. Eventually they settle in their new lives.

Everyone picture Feral Galahdian Jedi bbys. It’s like- Feral Mandalorian Jedi bbys but without the helmets and heavy armor XD.

They did end up splitting the creche between the various Clans, but tried to keep at least two kids near each other at all times so that they wouldn’t feel abandoned and organized regular “play dates” for all their Star Children (with the added benefit of the adults getting to share their meltdowns over the weird things their Star Children do and need). Also Ramuh is watching from on high and running damage control, which is why no Galahdian falls over dead from space viruses and no youngling dies in spasms from Eos viruses. He’s also the one to tweak the kiddos to fit into the a/b/o dynamic.

Obi-Wan would like you to believe he’s an Ostium. He is not. He’s an Ulric. Bant is his long-suffering Ostium braincell.

Other members of the creche include: Bruck Chun, who after multiple hard lessons on bullying is actually a pretty decent (if aggressive) bby Furia. Quinlan Vos because I find him fun (or, in this AU, Quinlan Ulric), and a couple OCs because I can’t remember who all else is in Obi-Wan’s age group/creche. There’s a Togruta in there somewhere because Togruta are cool.

Meanwhile in the Galaxy at large the Jedi are searching for their lost ship of younglings with more than a little alarm, but they don’t find them. While wandering for clues even years later, one Qui-Gon Jinn stumbles across a slave woman and her year old bby on Tattooine. The bby is extremely freaking Force sensitive so he Qui-Gon Jinn’s his way into buying both of their freedoms and taking them to Coruscant to introduce the woman to the Jedi so she can decide if she wants her bby in the Jedi or not. The woman is Shmi, the bby is Anakin.

Obi-Wan uses the schematics found on the ship (it was a ship for building lightsabers and stuff like in that one Clone Wars episode), his own instincts, and bits of the Elemency crystals/meteor shards lying around to “re-invent” the lightsaber. All the Galahdians are enamored and immediately figure out how to make their own.

Niflheim was Not Prepared to tackle a jungle full of Feral Galahdians with Laser Swords. Galahd does no fall and the Kingsglaive are still formed but not out of refugees. Instead Regis approaches them hoping to form an elite force of laser sword wielding jungle maniacs warriors. The Galahdians agree after some haggling for extra autonomy/privacy to hide their Star Children.

I feel like Obi-Wan joins the Kingsglaive. Just- because OBI-WAN. He’s curious and interested and he doesn’t particularly like war but he has that very strong Protecc instinct and people appreciate his diplomacy.

Years and years later, when the Star Children are teens/young adults, either they figure out how to repair their old ship or somehow another Republic ship finds Eos and all the Jedi proceed to collectively lose their minds over finding their Feral Galahdian former-Jedi younglings and their culture of laser-sword wielding jungle Packs.

Also the secondary genders is NOT a thing outside Eos so all the Jedi are ALSO freaking out over that and trying to figure out how their younglings have it (BECAUSE IT’S A THING. THERE ARE HORMONES AND VOCALIZATIONS AND STUFF THAT NORMAL HUMANS/MON CALAMARI/ETC CAN’T PULL OFF). It ... it never occurs to the Jedi that the Astrals did it because no matter how many times the Galahdians say it’s an Astral-granted thing, no one believes them because everyone “knows” that must be their primitive mythology and culture. There is no such thing as beings who can materialize out of thin air and are made of pure Force. Pssh.

Ramuh the Troll, Bahamut the Drama Queen, every other Astral who is professionally insulted that their existence is brushed off by the idiots who should know better: Behold, we shall ruin these arrogant space monks’ entire careers.

Also Palpatine tries something funny near the Galahdians and is murdered discreetly via an Arra because they can SMELL the madness and near daemon-like corruption on him kthanks.

Also also all the Galahdians take one (1) look at Anakin and go BBY SPACE ULRIC and promptly adopt Shmi and Anakin both while the Space Monks look on and sputter in confusion.

[irigoddess]

Incomplete Kyuzo/Phatrong Masterpost

Apparently this post didn’t work once I changed URLs so... yeah. Here you go. 

Kyuzoni biology:

The Kyuzo are an omnivorous reptilian species; while they are reptilian, they are warm blooded and do not lay eggs. They evolved this way because of the sometimes violent weather on Phatrong. It turned out that the weather was not suitable for eggs - thus they evolved to give birth…even if the process is awkward and painful.

Kyuzo skin is rough, but not scaly like Trandoshans. Skin colors can range anywhere from green, to yellow, to blue and in between. However, those who are purely yellow or blue have a common pigmentation disorder. Their health is not negatively affected because of this, although people might treat them differently depending on where they live.

All Phatrongi Kyuzo are born with honeycomb eyes, that can be any color. Their eyes tend to glow in the dark, and they can see in the dark better than most humanoids. (I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure where that one writer was going with when he said most Kyuzo had poor eye sight. I tend to ignore it.)

Other than having slightly wider hips, cis females are very similar to cis males. They do not have breasts or any noticeable secondary sex traits. While cis males tend to be a bit taller and wider framed, its not uncommon for cis females to have those traits, and vice versa. Intersex Kyuzo are common. Gender is very fluid among the Kyuzo, as parents tend to raise their children without a defined gender; when the child is of age, they get to decided what their gender is. Thus, being trans or nonbinary is prevalent.

The Kyuzo can be up to 7′6″ tall, with most falling in the 6′ to 6′6″ range. They tend to be a little larger than humans, body wise, but are considerably more agile.

The weakest part of the Kyuzo is their lungs; if there is too much moisture in the air, they can easily contract pneumonia. Too much oxygen in the air and they’ll suffocate. Thus the reason they wear masks off planet.  (Those who were involved with making Constable Zuvio also said that they wear bandages over their mouths but I’m still trying to figure out…..how that works exactly…)

Kyuzo, beyond that, are an incredibly hearty species that can live upward of three hundred years. After reaching sexual maturity at around young adulthood, their aging slows down. Whatever kills them before old age is usually attributed to their lungs or more physical means. They can contract other diseases, but they are usually nonfatal. Usually.

They have an amazing amount of stamina and can run at speeds that are hard for most humanoids to attain. They, unfortunately, have high pain tolerances and a hard time receiving fatigue messages to the brain, and this generally spells out problems. Kyuzos have been known to run themselves to death - literally. It’s not uncommon for families to find the bodies of missing members hundreds of miles away from where they were last seen. They have to make a very conscious effort to stop, or they won’t.

Kyuzo are much stronger than humanoids, and can jump higher. Most outsiders confuse them as force sensitives for this reason. Though Kyuzo are commonly Force-sensitive, they fight tooth and nail to keep their kids from the Jedi.

Culture:

Clothing:

Most feminine presenting Kyuzo wear headwraps/headdresses. Other than displaying wealth and covering cold heads, there isn’t much of a reason that they wear the headdresses. It’s not required, but most feminine presenting people wear them because they grew up seeing other feminine presenting people wearing them. If one is wealthy, their headdresses will tend to be large and elaborate; it’s not uncommon for one to wear a headdress that is pounds upon pounds of metals, jewels, and cloth. Poorer feminine presenting people generally just wear cloth, or nothing at all.

Kyuzoni clothing is colorful and flowy; people wear very similar clothing, no matter what gender they are. Dresses and skirts are very common, and people will generally go topless. While most colors are okay to use, there are certain colors that are not used in everyday clothing, such as purple, light blue, gold, and white; the Kyuzo place sacred meaning in some colors, so they are only supposed to be used for special events.

Phatrong’s army/police force wear loose, non-restricting clothing with a leather-like armor covering their chests. Their family’s crest is painted upon the armor, in case that the warrior is killed in action. Their clothing is trimmed in gold, which represents bravery and wisdom.

Light blue cloth, specifically headwraps or shirts, signify that a wedding is approaching. Purple is a wedding color, as it signifies prosperity and commitment; wedding clothes are trimmed with silver. White is only used for funerals or births, as it signifies both death and the innocence of new life.

Music/Art:

Music on Phatrong generally revolves around stringed instruments and percussion instruments; they don’t generally listen to music for leisure. Music is only played at festivals, and generally tells the stories of ancient heroes and gods. The Kyuzo also create dances to these story-songs, to make things more dramatic.

Art varies around Phatrong. By the oceans, it’s mostly glass-work like beads and giant stained glass windows. Those Kyuzo that live by the rivers create pottery. Richer families will paint large murals that will cover the walls of their homes. These murals tell tales of their gods, but more often than not they are used almost like photographs that capture small moments in the lives of the family. Jewelry making is also common.

Religion:

The Kyuzo believe in a polytheistic system; the most prominent goddess is Vohaoya (Vo-ha-oy-ah), the mother of the gods and creator of worlds. She represents women, fertility, life, and nature; she is described as having a mostly Kyuzoni appearance, with three eyes and four arms. Often, she is shown in art or statues sitting cross-legged, cradling Phatrong in her lap; her arms are either pointing toward the sky, or she is making gestures with her hands. Her bottom arms are often portrayed as laying flat against her legs with palms upturned - this relays openness. Her left top arm is often resting on the planet, which portrays her protective nature. And her right top arm is often pointed upward, her pointer finger curling in toward her palm while the rest of her fingers are outstretched; this is a symbol of love for the Kyuzo. Her statues are mostly made out of gold, but are painted with the likeness of galaxies; some people swear that the stars shift in the right light.

Other more minor deities include Ixpi, the goddess of peace, and her brother Echting, the god of war. Because the Kyuzo like to believe that they are a peaceful race, Echting is often described as a villain. Ixpi is described as a small, rainbow-colored being that floats rather than walks; besides being the goddess of peace, she is also a patron of happiness, sunrise, and the LGBT community on Phatrong. Echting is also the god of destruction, mayhem, and storms; he is often described as a fiery being too bright to look at. He is surrounded by lightning and is easily angered.

The Kyuzo have many other gods, but they are not nearly as important as the three mentioned above.

Legend has it that Vohaoya created the Warriors of old to protect the gods from those that wished to harm them. They were created from the rich soil, and they were considered divine beings. In the modern era of Phatrong, it is still considered one of the highest honors to be a Warrior.

General cultural headcanons:

The Kyuzo tend to live in large villages or the few small cities around the planet; those who are born into the more obscure villages often never leave the villages.

Villages are generally comprised of thousands of people, all of which are extended family members. Separate families can have more than twenty-five members, all living in one house. Villagers take turns tending to the communal farm, which produces most of their food and fibers for clothing; to supplement the farm, they also forage, hunt, and fish.

Village born Kyuzo are very secluded, only working with neighboring villages to marry off their children. Because of their seclusion, they are the more suspicious and less educated than their city counterparts. Knowledge is passed down through the generations as those born in the villages don’t have access to teachers. At most, they know Kyuzoni and basic math: they are instead taught more practical skills, like sewing, cooking, cleaning, and animal husbandry.

There are two ‘real’ cities on Phatrong, Shutalo and Shouji; Shutalo (Shoo-tah-loh) is the capital city, to the north. Shouji (Show-zhee) is a large industrial city in the southern hemisphere. Any outside trade is limited to these two areas.

Kyuzo that live in the city tend to have smaller families, with about six members at the most. The Kyuzo in the cities have actual jobs, but they don’t make money; they are given items of use instead. (Think of bartering, almost. If they work at a textile store, they are given cloth, which can then be traded for food, etc.) Villages that have produced too much food or are in need of other items will sell food to the city folk.

City Kyuzo have better access to education, although it’s still not the best in the galaxy. Most city Kyuzo learn things like writing, higher levels of math, and an objective look on the planet’s history. Kyuzo that wish to learn beyond that must travel off planet.

It’s extremely difficult for Kyuzos to speak Basic, just because Kyuzoni and Basic are so different. It can take years and years just to get the verbal language down, and that doesn’t count how long it takes for them to learn to read Aurebesh. If the Kyuzo do manage to figure out how to speak Basic, they have thick accents that are often hard to understand, thus making them vulnerable to mockery.

Politics on Phatrong are strange as the government actually doesn’t do much. The senate, located in Shutalo, is a group of Kyuzo (and a few Kataline) from various villages and cities that are there to set basic laws so that they can have a seat in the Council of Neutral Systems. Really, the various villages will set their own rules, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with the senate, they’re generally alright with it. (A law would include: Murder is punishable by death. But their definition of murder is loose and up to interpretation.)

Kyuzo children (generally young men but it’s not limited to males) learn to fight from the moment they can understand. The Kyuzo, although a generally ‘peaceful’ race, train their children to become a quasi-army/police force. The most promising fighters are then shipped off to various academies around Phatrong to train with masters to hone their skills. Many children, as a result of poor quality of life at the academies and dangerous fighting practices, end up dying. It is rare that the academies are punished. The children that make it then must complete a three-year stint as an active warrior; those who passed but are not necessarily promising are sent to protect sacred temples. Those who show a certain level of finesse can continue to climb the ranks until they are high-ranking military officials. They act more like a police force than a military, but they have the training just in case.

Kyuzo children are often promised to each other at birth; throughout their childhoods, they get to meet and connect with their betrothed. They generally marry at eighteen, with a week-long festival preceding it. Wives are considered sacred embodiments of the Goddess Vohaoya, and are limited to bearing five children; superstition says that having too many children will thin out the wife’s existence. Daughters are vitally important to carry on their mother’s bloodline.

Because Kyuzo value large family, a husband will take a wetzandi as well; a wetzandi, or birth maid, is a younger woman who births the rest of a man’s children. A wetzandi is someone who is generally caught bedding out of wedlock, or has committed some other small crime against the goddesses. Unfortunately, they are not valued by most, and are treated as little more than breeding stock.

[spideyxchelle]

as you all know Star Wars haunts me. like all the time. and i have been a little stressed by all of the prompts recently and all of the asks about the prompts. so i decided to write some stuff i know i can do without feeling the stress: nsfw and star wars.

SO HERE IS AN NSFW FIC SET STAR WARS AU VERSE. can you say force sex? i can. and i did. 

He’s gone five days off world on a scouting expedition with some members of the Church of the Jedi and MJ is restless. Ever since their mission on Rishi, things between them have been a surge of brilliant Technicolor, the force ebbing and flowing between them with every kiss. And the stronger this weird, nebulous bond between them (they will not call this bond a Force Bond until years later when MJ’s voice springs to life in Peter’s head) pulses, the more she aches for his return. It used to be that Peter could go off world for months at a time and life would go on, she would train and study and teach the younglings with the masters, but now he’s gone for a day and it feels like a limb has been lopped off. There is no bacta treatment to heal longing. She senses him as soon as he touches down on Coruscant and she goes running. The younger initiates fly out of the wave as she pushes her legs down the corridors, the other apprentices know that MJ and Peter have always been close and smile wryly at one another. It’s innocent, they all think, and they’re wrong. When he descends from the ship, a smile etched on his face from something funny Tam, a curious little member of the Church of the Jedi, says, MJ barrels into his arms. He’s not consciously prepared for the assault, but his body is always aware of her—he chalks up to the force but he knows that there are other creatures that have no sensitivity to the force that can sense companion. There is a word for that and he’s afraid to use it. Peter let’s out an effortful laugh and braces his hand on the back of her head, pulling her ever closer, and squeezes her willowy frame. “You know,” he whispers in her hair, “you could have waited to find me until after I was debriefed.”

She throws her arms even harder around him, “Oh switch off, Parker. I’m allowed to want to see you.” 

Their hug has gone on a little too long and Peter knows it. He can sense that the sweetness of the moment from the bystanders is starting to shift to curiosity and the last thing he needs is people poking into why he and MJ are hugging so hard they are swaying in the ship dock. He reluctantly lets her go and she makes a displeased noise at the back of her throat. 

He smiles and taps her nose in that familiar, fond way he’s done since they were children. “I have to go, Master Tony will want to see me.” 

“Fine,” she rolls her eyes, “but come to my bunk later.” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “Five days is too long.” 

His face heats up in embarrassment but he manages a nod. They haven’t done anything beyond kiss, she knows the flush is because he’s so good and anything suggestively indecent makes him squirm, but she wants to and she knows he does, too. She feels the way he leans into her, the way he lights up when she’s in a room. His voice signature crackles to life whenever they’re together and she feels it move between them like a warm blanket of light.

MJ is so often bathed in darkness the light that Peter feels with her is foreign and painful and beautiful. She wants it, craves it and she’s never sure if its because she needs the lightside or if she wants to sniff it out, which is an unwelcome thought. She could never hurt Peter, she thinks. (This is a lie in the making). 

She doesn’t want to think anymore so she punches his shoulder in the friendly way they’ve always parted and makes her way to her room, while Peter goes down to the Council Room to debrief. 

As he crosses the hanger, Master Tony meets him and Peter drops his head in shame. He knows that Master Tony does not exactly condone his friendly nature with Michelle and sometimes, he suspects, that Tony knows there is more between them than just friendship. Peter wants so badly to please his mentors, but no one more than Master Tony. 

“Safe travels?” Tony asks, folding his hands behind his back, making a beeline to the Council Chambers. 

Peter stiffly nods, “Yes, master. Ach-To had the relics you suspected were hidden away. Luke Skywalker really did hide there.”

“Yes,” Tony nods, “That much we knew. The history books tell us so.”

“It always felt more like legends to me, master.” 

“Yes, well, legends are just men, Peter. Never forget that,” Master Tony hums/

Peter mumbles under his breath, “Or women.” And neither of them say it but they both know he is thinking about MJ. Whatever else is between them, Peter knows that MJ is a brilliantly talented Jedi. Of all of their class, she is the strongest with the force and her saber work is dangerous, experimental and perfect. He likes to pretend that day on Rishi where she spoke to the sithhounds never happened. He isn’t ready yet to face the fact that MJ might have more darkness in her than light. 

Because someone as sublime as MJ couldn’t be a darksider. 

But whatever she was, and she could be many things, it was universally known that MJ is powerful and legends are born from power. 

Tony, thankfully, says nothing else until they are in his debriefing. His debriefing moves slowly. Peter cannot concentrate. His bones quake with the promise of what is waiting for him in MJ’s bunk. He knows they are on the precipice of breaking their vows and the thought equally horrifies him and thrills him. 

The Council picks up on his distraction and it is Master Bruce that stands from his seat and gently says, “Perhaps we should continue this debriefing when your apprentice is not so exhausted from his journey. What say you, Master Tony?” 

“Yes,” Master Tony, leans back in his chair, eyeing Peter curiously, “Yes. Let the boy go.” 

Peter bounces on his heels and bows in the briefest sign of respect before he hastens out of the Council Room. Several initiates try and stop Peter as he heads to MJ’s room to congratulate him on a successful mission and he tries not to be rude but he wants to be with MJ. And each congratulation delays him further. 

Finally, when Cindy Moon, one of the twi’lek girls from his class stops him, he snaps, “Cindy, can we talk about this later? I have somewhere to be.” Her eyes narrow to slits and he shrinks, “I’m sorry. I just-”

“Save it, Parker. Tell Michelle I say hey.” It feels like a sharp version of teasing. Like a jab. He has a moment of worry that perhaps he and MJ are not as discreet as he hoped, but it’s short lived. 

Because when he knocks on her door and the barrier swooshes open, he sees her. And the sight of MJ always makes his brain work less efficiently. Rational thought does not exist when she is in the room. 

He looks safe, she thinks, and propels her body at him again. He is ready this time. His arms open for her and the door locks shut behind them. “Hi,” she mumbles softly into his shoulder.

“Hey,” he squishes her like he used to do when they were children and MJ was a scrawny slip of a thing. Now, there are curves where he squeezes and the soft sections of her body makes his head spin. 

He’s unprepared for when she thumps him on the head and MJ is pleased she’s caught him off guard. “Ouch,” he grumbles, “What was that for?” 

“I heard you engaged with some people planet-side on Ahch-To. What happened to the simple diplomatic excavation mission?”

“Plans changed,” he rubs his head, “Kriff, MJ. That hurt.” 

“You’ll heal,” she sits on her bed. 

His eyebrows raise in a heated, playful way. He tackles her on her bed and she shrieks in delight. His face nuzzles her neck and leaves aimless, happy kisses on her skin just above her tunic, “I’ll heal?”

She’s laughing and her eyes water, “Get off of me, you lazerbrain!”

“Lazerbrain, am I?” Peter teases and nips at her collarbone which is prettily on display. She sighs and arches up against him. It’s not an innocent gesture. He knows it. She knows it. 

It’s a question. And how he answers the question will inform what happens next. 

Peter shakily spreads his hand on the base of her spine, splaying his fingers against her bare skin under her tunic. This pulls them closer together and she’s relieved. She wants this with him, she wants every inch of him.

Peter is not so sure. His vows scream at him in the back of his mind. He is not supposed to love, take a spouse or engage in baser mating rituals. He is an apprentice of the Jedi. He knows better than to fall in the trap of humanoid comfort. 

But when she wraps her leg around him locking him in, it is so hard to consider this wrong. Not when she looks so soft and smooth and kissable underneath him. 

“Em,” his voice breaks.

She covers his hand with her mouth and shakes her head, “Don’t. Don’t tell me you don’t want this. Don’t lie to me, Peter.” 

He shakes and she grips him tighter, like holding him there will make him stay. (Later, she learns there is nothing she can do to make him stay with her. There are no words in the galaxy that will turn him to her path.)

Peter swallows and focuses on breathing like he’s meditating. Then he says what he knows is true between them, “You want me to break your vows.” 

This moment is full of honesty, so she replies, “You broke your vows the day you kissed me in space.” 

It hurts to hear what he knows is true and she knows he is so soft and pure and good. So she is gentle with him when she kisses him. It’s barely a brush of their mouths and he screws his eyes shut like he’s warring with the light inside of him. To do this, what he knows he wants, is not the act of a jedi and he is a man of the order. Or, well, he is training to be. 

Who will he be if he breaks his vows now?

Who will he be if he doesn’t?

He decides and kisses her back. Hesitantly at first until she squeezes her legs around him and all of his baser humanoid biology jumps to attention. She is there, in his arms, and she wants him. That is what he chooses to focus on.

If the jedi are supposed to be selfless than this act is selfish and he still wants her in spite of that. 

She senses when he steels himself to this moment, when he pries himself away from rules and order and only exists in the four walls of her small bunk. Her hands brush his padawan braid away from his face like it doesn’t exist. And she feels him exhale relief against her lips.

Without the reminder of his vows in his line of vision, Peter really kisses her. He kisses her like he did that day in space the first time. It is nothing like the silly, sweet, nervous kisses they have shared since. It is desperate and an anchor. He needs her as much as she needs him. It is a comfort to know. 

Peter unties the belt around her tunic and her tops falls apart to expose MJ’s chest wrappings. Their eyes meet and MJ manages a smile. She tries to sit up and he sits on his feet while she shrugs her tunic off. Then, she guides his hand to her chest wrappings. He slowly starts to unravel them. 

He does not watch her chest. He watches MJ’s eyes. There is only breath and artificial light between them. Her wrappings fall away like ribbons and then her chest is bare to him. 

Only then does he dare to look down at her chest. She’s so hauntingly beautiful. Her skin is textured and hard in places that he knows are from training but her breasts are round and supple. Even years of training can not will that away. His hand covers her left breast and curiously needs it in his hand. 

She is sitting up, watching him, and he is on his haunches touching her. She chews on her lip waiting for him to do something other than grope her like a curiosity. 

This comes in the way of his head ducking down and his mouth closing around her nipple. He’s not sure why he does this. He has no formal sexual education. There is no need for it among the jedi, but he has heard enough from smugglers at trading posts to know that this is supposed to be pleasurable. 

MJ falls back against her thin bunk and Peter falls with her, his mouth still laving at her chest. He swirls his tongue around her nipple, pebbling it and drawing a soft whine from her. His hand mirrors the pebbling motion he’s doing to her other breast. And MJ lays there, luxuriating in Peter Parker exploring her chest. Peter had always had a keen mind for discovery, it was why he was always sent on expeditions with the jedi masters, and now she knows why they choose him for such missions. 

He’s wonderfully curious.

She rocks under his body for want of friction. And he does not remove his head from her chest. He’s not ready to move away from it yet. He wants to kiss every inch of her breasts. They’re so soft and pliant under his touch, plus she writhes against him with every nip. 

“Peter,” she sighs into nothingness. Her leg wraps around him again and she starts to rut against his firm body. He’s still completely dressed and, frankly, uninterested in doing anything more than going at her chest. Until MJ grabs him by his stupid ears and drags him up to her mouth. “Take off your tunic, Mielis,” she purrs in that same stilted foreign language that sends chills raking up his spine. 

He grabs her face and kisses her harder, “Come back to me, MJ. Come back.” 

She rolls against him, “I’m here, Nulis. I’m here.” And she can feel the haze of darkness slip over her like an old friend, but Peter tries to pull her into the light. She can feel him pulling at the force, hoping to draw her back. 

Her eyes clear when Peter rips off his tunic and covers her body with his again. He’s so much harder than she expected. His body is rigid and hard in places that she didn’t know men could be and it feels like heaven against her. Her head drops back and she pushes her body up against his. 

Peter slides his arms under her ached back and yanks her up into a sitting position in his lap. They kiss filthy and rough, like a duel, a duel they have played out a hundred times on the mat. He’s not surprised he takes to this kind of fighting as well as the kind they do in training. 

“Saizuso,” she bites his neck.

He groans and pulls her hair back so he can have a go at her neck, too. He doesn’t bite her hard, but he does leave pepperings of kisses and nips at the base of her throat. She cries out his name. That word he knows. The others anger him. She is his, he is hers. The darkness will not take her. 

He rolls them back over onto the bed and starts to unlace her trousers. They’re a flimsy material and so he can feel the heat between them. It’s dizzying. Wit the help of the force, he gets her trousers off and shucks his own off. 

They’re naked body to body and roll around on her small bunk fumbling for purchase. One moment MJ is on top, the next Peter. Neither wants to yield. 

Just like a fight. 

When Peter finally uses the force to knock her on her back she pouts up at him and he smothers the pout with a kiss. There is a joking lilt to his voice, “Switch off.” 

“You switch off,” she reaches between his legs and grabs at his member. He drops his head and breathlessly shutters. MJ is fascinated by the feel of him. He is not as rock hard as she had always assumed a penis would be, it is softer and gives more. She moves her hand up and down him curiously. Each stroke an adventure.

Peter kisses lazily at the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. “Em,” he breathes, “Oh kriff, Em. You’re killing me.” 

(Not yet. Not this day. But soon.)

He reaches an exploratory hand between her legs and finds a sticky wetness between her legs. She sucks in a breath as he rubs this wetness around, uncertain what else to do. She’s spent a moon cycle or two exploring her own sexuality beneath the sheets in this very room, so she guides him to the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs and teaches him how to touch her.

Peter, by nature, is an excellent student. He’s sincere and attentive and when he gets the hang of touching her she falls away into the darkness that is always so welcoming to her and lets sensation overwhelm her. 

She rolls against his hand and cries out when he slips one, then two fingers inside of her body. He can’t quite get a smooth motion when fingering her but she is so worked up and so overwhelmed by the moment that is scarcely matters. She wants him, she tells him as much. 

It does not come out in sithspeak, to his relief, it comes in basic, “Take me.” 

“Take you where?” he dumbly replies. He thinks a moment too late that he was better off saying nothing at all.

But then her eyes open and look up at him so sincerely and softly, “To the stars.” 

Peter adjusts himself so he is between her legs and then shifts so they are joined at the waist, sliding deep inside of her. He meets a little resistance and then he is sheathed inside of her wet heat and both of them groan. 

He’s a legend. She’s a legend. And this moment breathes prophecy. 

He thrusts into her, setting a pace between them, and its slow and sweet. Their mouths brushing with each sway of their hips. Her hands grip at his shoulders, squeezing him like it will center her, but she is already drifting away. 

Peter rests his forehead against MJ’s and with each thrust their foreheads brush. He rolls his hips hard, as a test, and she keens. So he does it again, and again.

Until she is sobbing his name and his thrusts and forceful and punishing. He feels the force start to seep out of her, whipping around the room in a frenzy of passionate feeling. He can feel ghost touches raking down his back and he can feel the force tickling at his stomach, making it clench on the precipice of orgasm. 

She can feel his force signature, too. He uses the force to yank her leg up higher so he can thrust into her deeper and she almost quips that he’s not using the force for a holy purpose, until he hits a spot deep inside her that feels sacred. 

They’re moving together like rough waters. This coupling feels like coming home. And if some events are set in stone, this moment has to be one. Neither can imagine a universe where they don’t share this bliss. 

He goes at her wildly and her body meets every push of his with its own offensive attack. They roll into each other, each reaching for the same untouchable peak. 

And then, there is a switch in their love making. That word is shared between both of their minds but they ignore their connection, do not recognize that something has sprung to life between them. 

“Em,” Peter chokes, pounding her into her flimsy bed, she aches for him to go harder, to demand more of her and her body, “Em, I’m gonna....” 

She grips the back of his hair and tugs, the war is not yet won for her, so he doubles down his efforts and goes harder. She even asks for it, “Saizuso....oh, saizuso!”

The force shatters between them at the same moment and the whole room shakes from the sheer magnitude of it. Things fall from a shelf and clatter to the ground. 

MJ clings to Peter as she falls apart and Peter smothers his head in her shoulder. 

It is a gorgeous symphony of feeling. (It is a terrifying melody that history has played out a hundred times between jedi and sith).

Peter collapses on top of her and MJ opens her arms to cradle him there, close to her heart.

They lay there in silence after, catching their breath and each too afraid to speak. They have dashed their vows. 

And what is left for them now, if not the path of jedi? 

They cannot begin to fathom it. So they fall together again. And fate becomes their third bedfellow. 

[zionfvfe201]

What is Infant Yoda?

That hints that the little alien was created on Kamino at the same facility where the Duplicate cannon fodders were made, which there's a solid link between Infant Yoda's beginnings which part of the Celebrity Wars cosmos. Misattributed to Mahatma Gandhi, we have actually all listened to that prominent bumper-sticker feel good-phrase, "Be the modification you wish to see in the world." Appropriately, the Jedi shot (and in some cases fall short) to be a favorable change worldwide they inhabit. The course to producing peace and also prosperity isn't clear or constantly easy in Celebrity Wars, though inherent to the concept of the Pressure is the notion that every person's favorable or negative attitudes can and also do develop real effect on everyone's lives.

What animal is Yoda based on?

The Jedi Master Yoda was the best-known member of a species whose true name is not recorded. Known in some sources simply as Yoda's species, this species of small carnivorous humanoids produced several well-known members of the Jedi Order during the time of the Galactic Republic.

Yoda does not originally identify himself to Luke as well as rather examines his persistence by presenting himself as an amusing bayou individual, purposely provoking both Luke and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker). Luke is shocked when he ultimately uncovers that this small, eccentric creature is the effective Jedi Master he was looking for. Discovering that Luke has the very same rage and carelessness which caused his papa's failure, Yoda hesitates to instruct him the means of the Force, and also agrees only at Obi-Wan's request. Before completing his training, nonetheless, Luke selects to leave Dagobah in order to confront Darth Vader (depicted by David Prowse, articulated by James Earl Jones) as well as save his pals on Bespin.

Harley Quinn Season 2 Episode 4 Review: Thawing Hearts.

Ultimately, neither is able to overcome the other and Yoda is forced to retreat. He goes into exile on Dagobah to ensure that he may conceal from the Realm and also wait for an additional possibility to destroy the Sith. At the end of the film, it is disclosed that Yoda has touched with Qui-Gon's spirit, finding out the secret of eternal life from him and passing it on to Obi-Wan. In Retribution of the Sith, Yoda leads the Jedi Council in seeking the mysterious Sith Lord Darth Sidious. Palpatine has actually now collected near-dictatorial emergency powers, and also begins interfering in Jedi affairs by designating Anakin as his personal representative on the Council.

Is Baby Yoda the chosen one?

No, we are not leaving Baby Yoda behind. Just when he's about to ditch his tiny ward and move on, another bounty hunter tracks him to the village, meaning it's no longer safe for either of them. So they both have to leave, and we will probably never see that pretty widow again.

Yoda leaves the Jedi Holy place with R2-D2 to take a trip to Dagobah, his future house, to discover answers. Revealed puzzling visions of the loss of the Jedi, Yoda discovers he has actually been "chosen" to find out just how to materialize his consciousness after death as a Force ghost. Yoda is evaluated by a team of spirit priestesses in order to overcome tests and lures on his expedition; among these tests is to face an illusion of ancient Sith lord Darth Bane (articulated by Mark Hamill).

Why is Yoda a baby in the Mandalorian?

There is a Reddit page dedicated to calling Baby Yoda "Yiddle", a nod to both Yoda and Yaddle, a female of the same species who appeared in the Star Wars prequel trilogy. The Yiddle theory is that Baby Yoda is the product of Yoda and Yaddle.

What Does the Future Hold for Infant Yoda?

Kuill seems to referring to a product of genetic engineering.

However primarily for his cuteness, boosted by his petite dimension as well as expressive eyes and also ears.

For the lengthiest time it seemed that Yoda was the only creature of his specific types, a sort of uniquely Pressure sensitive animal.

The priestesses educate Yoda that his training will return to in time.

Or perhaps Infant Yoda and the mop child from completion of The Last Jedi are hanging out on Dagobah waiting to begin their training.

He's plainly the best surrogate uncle Child Yoda could ask for. Throughout their brief quit on the remote forest planet Sorgan, Mando and also Child Yoda spend time with some villagers that've been having problem with raiders. Seeing the children in the town coo over the charming youngster and Baby Yoda's pleasure as they all played together was a priceless view.

We do understand, however, that Yoda's species is naturally strong with the Force-- and also not just because Yoda himself had an unbelievably successful occupation as a Jedi master. Even as an infant, Baby Yoda has the power to rise a titan (and mad) Mudhorn, while the only other participant of the types to include on display, as stated earlier, was Yaddle, a female participant of the Jedi Council. The end of The Mandalorian season 2 suggests that its titular protagonist will be searching for Baby Yoda's homeworld.

The droids and also Ewoks in Return of the Jedi crawled to make sure that the porgs and ice foxes in The Last Jedi might stroll so that Infant Yoda might run (or like, float, I presume). I don't know if this is my favorite episode of the show, however it's still great, and also I believe it's the most mentally resonant until now, greater than most personality beats have remained in the live activity Celebrity Wars films, honestly. Just when he's about to ditch his small ward and go on, one more fugitive hunter tracks him to the town, suggesting it's no longer secure for either of them. So they both have to leave, and also we will probably never ever see that quite widow once again.

What is Yoda's full name?

In the story treatment, Yoda's full name was Minch Yoda, and in the first draft, he was known only as Minch.

Right now, Yoda is on Kashyyyk, managing the battle in between the Separatist pressures and a mixed command of duplicate cannon fodders as well as Wookiees. Via the Pressure, Yoda feels the fatalities of each of the Jedi as they are executed by their own troops. Inside, they uncover that all the Jedi within, younglings consisted of, have been butchered. They then discover a holographic recording, disclosing Vader as the assassin. Yoda makes a decision to deal with Palpatine, sending Obi-Wan to kill Vader.

Why is Yoda 50 years old?

The final moments of the episode reveal the asset, who turns out to be super cute. The Internet has dubbed the adorable creature Baby Yoda because he or she bears a strong resemblance to the legendary Jedi master. As an ill-fated droid informs the Mandalorian, “species age differently,” and Baby Yoda is a young 50.

Early in the episode, the child connects a hand as if attempting to make use of the Force to recover the wounded Mando, who places him back in the carrycot prior to anything can happen (we later on learn in episode 7 that Baby Yoda can indeed heal extreme injuries). When the infant raises the billing Mud Horn monster with the Force, the truth that Infant Yoda is Force-sensitive is confirmed later in episode 2. It plainly takes a lot out of the youngster, a Huge initiative of a task that would be challenging even for a grown-up Jedi. Bear in mind how Luke had a hard time to lift his X-Wing out of the swamp? Clearly it has a lot of power, and it makes good sense based upon what we understand regarding this varieties that the power might be integral in its biology.

However most of us recognize that's not how these films work, so Infant Yoda is Yoda's immoral love youngster verified. "I'm always attempting to work out why they desire us to call this personality Infant Yoda. "Possibly, that's what Favreau and also his group wants us to do is get distracted or complacent calling the personality Infant Yoda to make sure that they can shock us with one more revelation.