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#star wars canon divergent
illegalcerebral · 6 months
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A bit all over the place this week due to sickness but I did take a look at an AU project that I haven't worked on in a while:
For weeks troops had begun to pour in as the garrison was built. A tense air seemed to settle over the whole planet. It was palpable everywhere from his regular trips to Mos Espa to the familiar streets of Anchorhead. The White Sun network were growing nervous and Korkie increased the number of local trips they made in aid of the network. He began to bring up the subject of a wider rebellion again. As much as Obi-Wan longed to do more to help, in those moments as he did now, he would look at Mara playing. “We must protect what we have here,” he told his son gently. “You already do so much good-" “It’s not enough.” Korkie dropped the plate onto the table with a clatter. Mara’s head snapped up, startled. “Sorry Ad’ika. Go back to your game.” Mara’s little face scrunched up, eyes darting between her father and grandfather. obi-Wan suspected that even without the Force she was a naturally perceptive child.
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lawsofchaos1 · 8 months
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Star Wars Promptlet
In one universe Obi-Wan Kenobi bows shallowly at the end of his formal report of the Battle of Naboo and requests the Council free the mother of his new Padawan from slavery on Tatooine. The Council makes agreeable noises and Obi-Wan tells himself that they will act on his request. However, wary of being accused of attachment, wary of his Padawan being taken away from him because he's too young, too inexperienced, too emotional, too much of a failure, Obi-Wan never checks and he never asks again.
In another universe, Obi-Wan Kenobi sees the dismissive body language of the Counselors during his report - it can't possibly be a Sith they whisper in the eddies of the Force - and he doesn't make a request before he leaves. Instead, he shows up at Quinlan's door in the middle of the Temple's night cycle and his creche mate takes one look at his face before putting on his Shadow blacks and sneaking them past the Temple guard.
Forty one cycles later, Obi-Wan picks Anakin up from where he'd been undergoing the crash course of So You Think You Want To Be A Jedi Knight in the Initiate's hall (which went shockingly well, Anakin making friends left and right and filling in some severe baseline knowledge gaps most of the Temple inhabitants took for granted). He hands his Padawan a small, carved bracelet - a broken chain - made from one of the few native plants of Tatooine, a gift from Shmi, and watches Anakin's eyes grow liquid-wet in joy and wonder.
Most people gloss over that Qui-Gon had bought Anakin and not Freed him, Anakin had noticed. Obi-Wan never needed to be told the difference. And Obi-Wan hadn't bought Shmi, he'd simply provided her what she needed to Free herself. And maybe a substantial portion of the Mos Epsa slave quarters along with her. (But that pesky little slave rebellion that started while Obi-Wan and Quinlan just so happened to be on planet absolutely definitely for sure couldn't be traced back to them. They'd made certain of that.)
The Temple still just shy of outright forbids Padawans contact with their birth parents, but every so often - although at least once a year - Obi-Wan sends Anakin on some strange errand that inevitably ends with him slipping into a booth and finding himself sitting next to his mother for a few precious hours of catching up. Their first meeting (after hearing all about how his mother Freed herself and so many others of course) is all about the new friends he made during his moon-cycle in the Initiate's dorms and how four of them have decided to claim him as a crechemate since apparently every Jedi needs crechemates and he came in too old to get them the normal way. Anakin thinks from watching Obi-Wan with Quinlan and Bant and Garen that this means he has siblings now.
(A few years later Anakin's definitely-siblings get sent with him on his weird errand that happens to be on Anakin's life-day and Shmi makes them all a cup of desert-scented tea and welcomes them into the family. Anakin doesn't cry, it's just the steam from the tea making his cheeks wet.)
When Palpatine starts showing a little too much interest in a young Padawan, Anakin listens when Obi-Wan warns him something might be wrong. After all, his Teacher is a Chain-Breaker- why would Anakin doubt him when his words suggest that Palpatine may be too close to a Depur to be trusted? His crechemates also don't like it and his mother says words he didn't know she knew in her own reaction.
The anonymous report Anakin submits to the Senate Guards that they might want to check in on Senator Palpatine and his creepy obsession with young kids stays anonymous, but it does get leaked and the ensuing media storm starts strong and ends stronger with the discovery of a Sith Master.
In short, Obi-Wan helps Shmi Free herself and a war that breaks a galaxy never starts.
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The war is over and they have time to figure out their personal shit
Codywan // canon divergant AU // no order 66 // armcandy trophy husband Anakin 😌 // happy ever after
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olives-and-lilies · 7 months
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Okay, okay, the fic Worthy of Devotion, is in and of itself also worthy of my devotion. You don’t understand, it’s so good. It’s Fox/Riyo with Riyo as Chancellor and Fox as her personal bodyguard and you DONT UNDERSTAND!!! It’s BEAUTIFUL! It’s clone-centric, and has a goregous build-up, slow burn, little PTSD, addresses the clone slavery angle, and the effects that has on a mans self-worth, it’s just phenomenal. @hrtiu did some serious work on this one and I absolutely love it. This scene, this scene and Fox’s “I’d like to see you try” (which I won’t tell you when it is but just know it is executed FLAWLESSLY) have stuck with me so hard and are just ✨chef’s kiss✨
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hobbitinthetardis · 5 months
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thinking about how the thrawn fandom (me) really thought he and ezra were gonna become reluctant besties before ahsoka came out
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bluedaddysgirl · 6 months
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Relationships : Tarkin & Ahsoka, Luthen Rael & Ahsoka, - & Original characters and more to be added!
For Ahsoka Tano the war never really ended, it transformed into something else—different rules, new enemies, and uncertain alliances. As she struggles to build a network worthy of being called a rebellion, a run-in with Imperial forces leaves her responsible for a wounded man, an old adversary who doesn't recognise her, or the world around him.
Amnesia, angst and feels, h/c, identity loss and crisis, false identity, early rebellion era, canon divergence (no rebels or mandoverse at all)
Art by the fantastic @shahs1221 - see the whole piece here
A big thank you to everyone who stayed invested in this fic despite it being just a project in the air for 2 years now. You helped keep the dream alive with all the asks! xD
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wild-karrde · 18 days
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Guarded - Part 3
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Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: NEW CHAPTER REWRITE ALERT! This was honestly one of the chapters I was most excited to rewrite, and I hope you all love it as much as I did. As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me!
Chapter Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: 4.8k words
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It was late, and as usual, Tech wasn’t sleeping. Hunching over several datapads at the table in the main sitting room of the suite they shared, he rubbed his temples as he pored over the information Captain Typho had provided him. He was certain to pass out when exhaustion overcame him, either in the chair he was sitting in, or perhaps he’d be lucky enough to make it back to the bedroom he was sharing with Echo. He was surprised to hear his brother’s snores already from down the hall. 
He rarely sleeps, so at least there’s that.
Sleep was never something that came easily to Tech either, not with the way his mind constantly turned, poking and prodding at information and cataloging it for later use. It was rather fortuitous that he’d proved capable of functioning on less sleep than most, and he often took advantage of the late hours to spend time alone with his thoughts. 
The others had closed their doors, which had done little to muffle Wrecker’s grunts and louder snores as he tossed and turned. He’d wound up in a room by himself with Tech and Echo sharing and Hunter and Crosshair bunking together in the last remaining room. The tension between the sergeant and the sniper was still thick enough to cut with a vibroblade, but Tech was hopeful that perhaps the forced proximity would help lessen the strain between them. 
Perhaps they’ll even have a fruitful conversation at some point. 
He didn’t always necessarily express himself in the same ways as his brothers, but he knew he really had no right to be critical of anyone’s interactions with Crosshair. After everything that had happened, he could barely look his brother in the eye.
I missed it. I just assumed he was correct when he stated his chip was gone. I should have known. I should have noted the differences in his behavior, the headaches. 
I just missed it.
The guilt wracked him nearly every second he was around Crosshair, and it had made his interactions with him difficult, so he’d limited them. He knew if they were to effectively function as a team again, it was something he would have to overcome. That seemed to be the biggest challenge for him at the moment, but one that could not take priority over the mission they’d been tasked with. 
Tech had been going over the security system for the palace, memorizing protocols and trying to get an idea of where vulnerabilities existed. He still wasn’t sure why they were needed here, but he was determined to do his best to help anyway. The work made him feel useful in a galaxy that had seemingly decided he and his brothers had outlived their utility. He understood the move to decommission the clone army from a practical standpoint, but it didn’t make him less resentful of the treatment of his brothers, both what he had observed with his own eyes and what was still just rumors. He just hid that resentment far better than most, deeming it an unhelpful feeling in the long run when there was so much more to be done, including helping the brothers the Empire had abandoned. And people like Queen Nodala and Captain Typho, whether that help was desired or not.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the indentations on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose left by his goggles as he sighed deeply. 
By all accounts, the system is sound. The only vulnerabilities lie in the human factors. Logs. Timeliness on rotations. And only so much can be done about that. 
A quiet, nearly imperceptible sound in the hallway made Tech turn his head just in time to see a shadow pass under the door. It could have been anyone walking by in the night, but something about how quiet it was, clearly intended to not draw attention, piqued his curiosity. Quickly, he slipped his boots back on and slid his blaster into its holster before quietly opening their door and stepping out into the corridor. 
The only sound was the echoing of his bootheels on the marble flooring as he pursued the shadow as quickly as he could without drawing attention. Stealth had never necessarily been his strongest skill, and he felt especially exposed, striding through the seemingly inescapable moonlight that poured in through the large windows. 
At least Wrecker’s not with me. He is physically incapable of sneaking up on anything.
Suddenly, Tech rounded a corner and was in the open air, a railing stretching out before him that looked out over the private palace gardens. Somewhere, a waterfall gurgled and the leaves of the trees whispered together in the cool night breeze. He shivered slightly before noticing he wasn’t alone. 
A woman leaned against the railing, her long dark hair hanging down her back in waves. She wore an emerald green robe and matching slippers, a cream colored nightgown peeking out from underneath. Her elbows rested on the stone railing, and she had her eyes closed as if savoring the breeze that tugged gently at her hair. 
Tech froze, watching her carefully for a moment before ultimately deciding she wasn’t a threat. Judging by the fact that no one else was around, he knew she was the shadow he’d been chasing, although he couldn’t understand the need for her to be sneaking around. Particularly since she presumably had permission to be anywhere in it at any time. 
Cautiously, he approached. As Tech’s footsteps grew closer, the woman turned to look at him, green irises piercing him in the dark. He’d clearly surprised her, but she recovered quickly, smiling disarmingly. 
“Good evening, Tech.” 
“M’lady.”
Her smile flickered almost imperceptibly. “You don’t have to use formal honorifics for handmaidens.”
Pushing his goggles up, Tech tilted his head to look at her. He wasn’t sure if this was a test or just a ruse, but he decided to place his cards on the table. Honesty had always been his default method of engagement, even sometimes to a fault. 
“Yes, but you’re no handmaiden,” he countered.
Her eyes narrowed and an amused smirk at her lips. “What makes you so sure?”
Tech moved to stand next to her, lowering his voice slightly. “Were all of the queen’s handmaidens present when we were introduced today?”
She thought for a moment, trying to determine where he was going with this. “Yes. We were all there.”
Tech nodded, watching her carefully. 
“Alright. There were six handmaidens in the room. It was hard to see all of their eye colors, but one I did see definitely had brown eyes, very different from the queen’s eyes, which are green like yours. Another had a scar through her eyebrow, nothing terribly obvious, but enough to where she has a gap in the hair that grows there, which you don’t have. The two that were flanking the door we entered from were several centimeters shorter than you, a subtle difference, but one I noted. And of the last two, one had hair of a similar color to yours, but it was straighter, so unless you curl your hair specifically to sleep in, that rules you out, and the other has a widow’s peak, a genetic trait that you do not share.”
Her eyes were wide, but he shook his head. “These are all subtle things that could easily be covered one way or another should they be decoying for you, so I wouldn’t be too concerned. I just notice more things than most people. But yes, by process of elimination, you are Queen Kestia Nodala of Naboo…m’lady.”
She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Very impressive. Although I’m not sure whether to let you talk to my Captain of the Guard or not seeing as he’s already very paranoid about my safety.”
“You are on the bad side of someone willing to send assassins to kill you. I would consider that cause to worry,” he replied.
The queen pushed some of her hair behind her ear. “I apologize for the subterfuge. I’m just not normally recognized outside of my regalia, and most don’t see me like this anyway. It always feels like armor, so to speak. People respect me more, but also, coming upon someone I don’t know well without it on feels…” her voice trailed off. 
“Vulnerable?” he offered. 
She huffed a laugh. “Exactly. It was a reflex of sorts, if I’m honest.”
He nodded. “That is understandable, particularly since we only met this afternoon. But I would argue that you are, in fact, quite vulnerable without a security escort.” 
The queen nodded, a quiet sigh escaping her. “I just needed to get some air. Alone.” 
“I apologize for disturbing you then. Good night, m’lady.” Tech turned on his heel to leave. 
“Wait,” the queen said quietly. 
Tech turned to look at her, and something in his chest fluttered as her eyes met his. He straightened his stance reflexively. It felt as though she was appraising him, weighing something in her mind. Her eyes were kind though, and he felt his face warm under her gaze. She watched him as he stood stiffly for a few more moments, hands clasped behind him. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision. 
“Would you care to walk with me, Tech? I’m having trouble sleeping, and I find the gardens help calm my mind. And,” she said, grinning mischievously. “It would be irresponsible for me to be out here alone at night without some sort of security escort.”
Tech dipped his head. “Certainly, m’lady.”
“So there’d be no reason to tell Captain Typho you found me out here then. Right?”
“I suppose not, m’lady.”
She nodded, striding towards the stairs before pausing, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “Oh, and Tech.”
“Yes?” he asked, pausing.
“We’re going to spend an awful lot of time together for the foreseeable future as you and your squad have been assigned as my personal security. When it’s just the two of us, please call me ‘Kestia’ or ‘Kes’.”
The lack of formality jarred him, but he nodded quietly as he followed her down the walkway to a set of stairs that led into the greenery. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she stepped onto a carved stone path, her robe and nightgown whispering around her ankles while his bootheels clicked against the pavement. They walked quietly for a while, Tech trying to determine the correct distance to follow, and ultimately finding Kestia matching his stride. He wasn’t certain if she was being intentional, but he surrendered after a few experimental pace changes, falling into step next to the queen. 
If Kestia noticed his experimental prodding, she didn’t comment. She strode through the garden, and while she seemed relaxed, Tech could tell her mind was racing as she paused at certain features, breathing in the scent of various flowers or allowing her fingers to trail through leaves on a willow tree that hung over them. He’d experienced plenty of nights like this where his thoughts kept slumber at bay, but while he normally immersed himself in datapads, he could tell this was Kestia’s equivalent, her best way of working through a problem. 
“If I may, what’s keeping you up at this hour, Tech?” the queen asked, finally breaking the silence as they followed the path along the trickling brook that wove throughout the garden.
He turned to look at her, meeting her eyes in the moonlight, glittering at him like precious gems. There was a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips, but her interest seemed genuine, not manufactured out of some sense of social propriety. He took a deep breath. 
“Several things actually.”
She nodded. “Well, would you like to talk through them with me?”
He stared at her with a puzzled expression. She shrugged. 
“I find it helps me sometimes.” 
She seated herself on a stone bench as he stood in front of her, eyes trained on him like a pupil awaiting a lecture.
Nodding, Tech pushed his goggles further up his nose, trying to ignore the nagging fear that he’d bore her. 
“I’m trying to determine the best way to increase our fuel efficiency on our gunship. It seems as though we’ve been running hotter than normal, and while I’ve run the usual set of diagnostics, I cannot seem to discover which part is faulty and causing the ship to consume fuel at a faster rate.”
She stared at him intently for a moment. “May I ask a potentially stupid question?”
He smiled slightly. “There are no stupid questions, m’lady. In my experience, those keep you from making stupid mistakes, which are more costly.”
“You’re still calling me ‘m’lady’.”
“A habit I shall endeavor to break. In the meantime, what is your question?”
“You’re operating under the assumption that it’s some part beyond the fuel system that’s misbehaving, causing the fuel pump to provide more fuel than would normally be required, correct?”
“That is the most logical conclusion, yes.”
“Have you considered that perhaps the fuel pump itself is faulty? Maybe there’s nothing driving a higher fuel consumption, but perhaps the pump itself is doling out excess. Or perhaps there’s something in the ship’s programming that’s making the pump think it needs to provide more than what is required.”
Tech’s mind was suddenly so busy, turning over her suggestion, he didn’t notice the queen’s surprised expression as he sat down abruptly next to her, nor her amused smile as his leg began bouncing energetically as he examined the feasibility of her line of thinking.
“That is not a thing I had previously considered,” he conceded, internally chiding himself. “It’s certainly plausible. I’ll have to check.” 
She smiled, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Sometimes I find it’s easy to go down the path that is the most logical solution and get stuck there. Glad I could help. What else is on your mind? Perhaps I can help solve all of your problems.”
Tech nodded, missing the joke completely as he ticked down his list. 
“I’m working on a new design for a cybernetic limb for Echo. He’d like to have the use of a hand while also maintaining his slicing capabilities. I’ve been attempting to come up with a housing that will be able to tap into his neural system the same way his current appendage does while also maintaining his scomp link within the wrist.”
“Ah, I’m afraid I cannot help you there,” Kestia said quietly, folding her hands in her lap. “Cybernetics are well outside of my area of expertise, and judging by Echo’s neural equipment that’s visible on his head, I have to imagine his is quite complex.”
“You would be correct, but I think there’s an elegant solution. I just have to tweak a few elements of the design concept I’m working on to ensure he’s comfortable with it.”
She hummed in reply, but Tech’s brow did not unfurrow. Kestia noticed.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” she pressed. 
Tech felt his cheeks warm once more as he swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to having someone read him so easily so quickly, to seemingly understand him. His brothers did of course, but they’d spent the vast majority of their lives training together. Understanding one another without verbal communication was a necessity for effectiveness. And survival. 
She’s a politician. Being able to read a room and those in it makes her successful. Of course she’d be able to notice things such as personal traits. She wouldn’t have been elected queen by such an overwhelming margin if she did not have such a skillset. 
It did little to calm the sudden flutter in his stomach. He stood, taking several paces to put some space between them before turning back to face her, his hand stroking his chin as he thought.
“Yes there is another thing. But I fear it is somewhat forward and perhaps could be construed as rude.”
She tipped her head back and laughed, a reaction far from what Tech had expected. But at this point, he was starting to understand that the queen defied any and all expectations he had previously assumed. 
“Well, it’s about time someone was rude to me,” Kestia joked. “Everyone defers to me constantly, so I welcome your forward thoughts and potential rudeness.”
Her mirth did little to decrease Tech’s discomfort, but her eyes were boring into him where he stood, and after quickly weighing the options, he decided candor would once again be the best approach. He unconsciously started pacing in front of her while she watched from her seat, her hands still clasped in her lap as she leaned forward, seemingly eager to hear Tech’s thoughts.
“Very well,” Tech replied, taking a deep breath. “I…I struggle to understand why we are needed here. You have a quite capable security force from what I’ve seen, so why recruit a secret fugitive clone team that the Empire is very interested in catching? What added value do we bring?”
She smirked, flicking something off of her robe’s fabric. “Honestly, I find your presence here equally troubling, but I was very much overruled by Captain Typho and several of my advisors and confidantes, including a certain senator that I know colluded with Typho to send you here. I would rather have handled this internally and on my own, but even the Naboo guard has limits. I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t exactly have a strong military presence, so it’s not as though I could have some strong show of force to get my enemy to back down.”
Tech nodded. He had researched the planet and its culture and was well aware of Naboo’s hesitancy to militarize, even after the Trade Federation invasion that had occurred during Queen Amidala’s rule. 
“Do you even know who the enemy is?” he asked. 
“I do. But I doubt you’ll believe me.” Her expression was a neutral mask, completely unreadable to him. It frustrated him, especially when combined with her conversational obfuscation.
“I’d be more likely to believe you if you were candid with me about everything, including the reason why your life is in danger,” he retorted, trying to keep his mild annoyance from poking through his facade. 
“Iden told you-“
“Resources. Yes, but you and I both know that a simple mining dispute doesn’t put the life of a planet’s elected monarch at risk.”
She eyed him carefully, clearly considering her options. Tech did his best not to cross his arms, fearing he’d portray hostility and send her retreating into the palace. Finally, she sighed. 
“Will you tell the others?”
Tech nodded. 
“It would be helpful if we understood our current situation better. Vague details make it harder for us to prepare and formulate any contingency plans. I cannot hide information from my brothers that will help keep them safe. And you.”
Something shifted within her as he watched. She looked away, still contemplating, but he could see her jaw set in a hard, determined line. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she dipped her head, appearing to come to a decision.
“Alright, I will trust you with this. My captain was hesitant because he is very fearful for my safety.”
“Understandable considering what happened to the last Naboo leader he was charged with protecting.”
“That wasn’t his fault. He-“
Tech cut her off gently. “I know it wasn’t. I am merely saying I understand his determination to protect you. He obviously cares very deeply for you.”
She smiled a little, her gaze drifting to a slightly more distant point. “Gregar and I were close as children. He’s always been protective, but sometimes I feel that Padmé Amidala’s death has made that part of him even more fearful.”
Tech nodded in understanding. Kestia’s eyes fell to her lap as she nervously picked at her thumbnail.
“A few months ago, I was informed that one of our mining survey droids detected a massive deposit of Bandorium in one of our lakes. The droid had malfunctioned and wasn’t even supposed to be in that area.”
Tech tilted his head. “Bandorium? I thought that metal only existed on Bandomeer.”
“Until this point, it did. Naboo would be the first place that it’s been discovered outside of Bandomeer.”
“Its use in cloaking technology and its rarity makes it incredibly valuable,” Tech recited, recalling one of the many articles he’d read on intergalactic mining during his time as a cadet.
“Indeed, which is why I had the droid’s memory wiped.”
Tech’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”
She nodded, still picking at her thumb before finally meeting his eyes. 
“That metal is incredibly valuable to the Empire. They’ve pillaged worlds for far less. This deposit was found near Gunga City, the Gungan capital. In order to mine the deposit, the city would have to be destroyed and the population displaced. In addition, there are numerous Gungan holy sites within the vicinity that would almost certainly be destroyed.”
She stood, pacing in the grass as Tech had been a few moments before. Tech watched her quietly. 
“I had the droid’s memory wiped because I did not want the Empire to get word of this discovery,” she continued. “We classified the information and limited any distribution, compartmentalizing where we could, but some of the information still got back to the Empire. Not the location, only I have that information. However, even just the rumored discovery was enough to inspire the Empire to try and coerce me into revealing the location. But I’ve seen how Imperial mining operations plunder worlds. I know that they’d consider the Gungans collateral.” 
She stopped, turning to look at him, her eyes pleading for some sort of tacit approval, validation that she’d done the right thing. It struck him as odd, particularly from someone that seemed as set in her convictions as Kestia did. 
“When I ran for this office and took my oaths, I swore to protect Naboo and its people, all of its people,” she said so quietly it was almost a whisper. “So I cannot allow that to happen.”
Tech nodded, contemplating the information. Kestia resumed her pacing. 
“Unfortunately, I have made my distrust and distaste of the Empire fairly well known. I stand up against them, and they certainly don’t care for it. Moff Panaka has continued to offer his very unwanted advice about how I should disclose the location and allow the Empire to mine what is required, how it will strengthen Naboo and its place in the Empire, as if I would sacrifice my planet and its people to curry favor with those that are only hungry for power and subjugation.”
Her voice was angrier now, and a vein in her temple throbbed as her pace quickened. Tech was taken aback slightly at the aggression and passion coming from the monarch that had been so subdued when they first met. She suddenly seemed to remember herself, pausing her rapid steps to look at him, a flush spreading across her cheeks as she sheepishly tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I apologize.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I am happy to listen if that is what you require.”
Kestia dipped her head gratefully. 
“Anyway, there have been…threats made. Moff Panaka has repeatedly warned me that if I did not comply, there was a chance the Empire would intervene and elect a new monarch that would be more sympathetic to their cause, someone that would allow them to occupy. What they don’t realize is that I’ve destroyed all records of the location. The person that made the report directly to me has since died quite suddenly. I suspect foul play, but seeing as the threats and assassins haven’t stopped coming, I can only assume they didn’t get the information they needed. Information that only exists in my mind.” She paused, looking at him. “And now, yours.”
The revelation was shocking to Tech, and he let out a sharp exhale. He’d never been one to garner or pursue the trust of others, and yet, Kestia had entrusted him with this information after only a few hours. Information that the Empire was apparently willing to kill for. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. He’d have to examine how he felt about this later. For now, it felt important to keep Kestia talking, to glean as much helpful information as he could front his very sudden and unexpected rapport. 
“You believe the Empire is attempting to have you killed in the hopes that the next monarch will access the information and reveal it.” It was intended to be a question, but it came out as more of an accusatory statement than intended. 
Kes shrank back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. She did not waver, but he could feel her appraising him again, trying to determine if she had misjudged him, if he would take her seriously. 
“I do,” she said firmly. “They can’t risk an outright invasion and have the Empire’s name attached to my death, at least not yet, so they hire assassins like the one that recently visited my quarters.” The evening was warm, but Tech saw her shudder slightly at the memory. “I do not believe the Empire will risk an all-out war with Naboo yet to subdue me and my people.” She noted the twitch of his lips. “You disagree?”
He sighed. “A while ago, yes, I might have disagreed with you. Now, I’m not certain. The Empire has grown more dangerous as it’s become more powerful. More bold.”
She relaxed slightly, seemingly relieved that he at least didn’t completely discount her theory. 
“Why not just remove you from office?” he asked after a few moments. “That seems the more politically savvy route. Attacking Naboo’s elected leader is a blatant attack on the planet’s sovereignty.”
“They cannot do it without support from our politicians here, and most of them are against occupation as well. I have plenty of support on my planet. The only way for me to be immediately removed would be…well, to kill me.”
Tech nodded. As conspiratorial and far-fetched as it sounded, he couldn’t deny her reasoning as the pieces fell into place in his mind. If the Empire could keep its name from being tangled with the assassin and pin it on some disgruntled political fanatic, then they could easily slip their own pawn into place while simultaneously tying the hands of any objectors. At best, anyone that made accusations would look like raging conspiracy theorists, and their political careers would crumble. At worst, the Empire would claim treason, and they’d never be heard from again. He sighed, scrubbing his fingers under the rims of his goggles again. 
“So, now you know,” Kestia said slowly. “Do you believe me?”
Tech sighed, meeting her eyes. “I believe they will continue to try and remove you, but ultimately, if they do not succeed, I do not doubt they will try to make an example out of you and your people, one way or another.”
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, and she quickly turned her back to him, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared out across the gardens. Tech slowly moved to stand next to her, studying her features as she thought. He was suddenly struck by how terrifyingly beautiful she was, and how much he found her determination admirable, even if he feared it was against insurmountable odds.
“They can try, but I will not yield,” she said quietly.
Tech hesitated before gently placing a hand on her arm. It felt like the correct thing to do, even though the action seemed to surprise them both. But she did not pull away, instead meeting his eyes. 
“And that is why you need us,” he said softly. “To support you in this endeavor should the Empire ramp up its efforts.”
She watched him carefully, and Tech felt his stomach flip slightly under her gaze. She was somehow even more imposing when she was out of her regalia, a normal woman in every aspect of her appearance. And yet, here he was, trying to remain steady as she pinned him down with her emerald irises. After a few moments, she tossed him another grin that almost felt flippant after the conversation they’d had. He suspected it was meant to put him more at ease than anything, and he was once again struck by how naturally she deployed the tools of a politician. It should have unnerved him but it didn’t. At all. 
Another thing to be examined at a different time. 
For now, he felt content to just exist in this moment rather than planning six steps ahead, a feeling he was unfamiliar with. It felt pleasant as he took in the sounds of the garden, the feel of the breeze on his cheeks and in his curls, and the smile on Kestia’s face.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” the queen of Naboo said, a teasing glimmer in her eye. “I would rather you have wasted your time when this is all said and done.”
He gave her arm a slight squeeze, returning her smile. “As do I. Kestia.”
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Tag List: @redheadgirl @witchklng @djarrex @arctrooper69 @sleepingsun501 @ladytano420 @echos-girlfriend @zoeykallus @leftealeaf @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @ariadnes-red-thread @goblininawig @merkitty49 @fives-lover @ladykatakuri @runforrestr @baba-fett @daimyosprincess @obihiddlenox @bucketbunny99 @fordo-kixed-rex @nerd-ika @amish---paradise @arctrooperechy
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thecoffeelorian · 16 days
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Red Flags (Crosshair x Reader)
Premise: …If Lucasfilm really is taking the Fanboys’ Way Out (FWO) and un-aliving everybody, this can be canon instead. In any case, this is the official sequel to Understanding, and I'm going to do my best to see it through to a somewhat less abrupt end.
Story Notes/Warnings: All right, Lucasfilm...*sigh* ...Since you've more or less told me with your whole chest that Crosshair is perfectly healthy despite a lump in his head; visual sensitivity to light; growing hand tremors and an inability to shoot, so the only treatment he really needs is the Morality 101 class rather than going straight to emergency care...
...And that AZI-3 is now needed for absolutely nothing regarding the Clone Troopers in general, since Captain Rex totally overreacted about how dangerous the inhibitor chips were and probably even Wrecker would have just grown out of it after an hour...this is now classified as a Canon Divergent/No Retconning AU, because as an autistic woman, it's easier for me to function when the rules don't keep getting rewritten and I'm able to finish what I start in peace.
Warnings: ...Basically all of Crosshair's health issues in the whole series, because why leave so much as a single stone unturned?
Special Notes: I'll be going straight back to my longfics after this, and I really hope nobody expects me to just drop them and/or start over from scratch, because you might be disappointed there. 😅 Also, the header was made by @stars-n-spice.
No Pressure Tags: @shadow-rebel-223 @momojedi @mysticalgalaxysalad @littlefeatherr @moonstrider9904 @ah-prick24 @reader6898 @darkangel4121 @urmomsmattress @nevadastarrsworld @mohsicsu @beatthisbi @weirdest-lights @pachnouci-obuv @tink1221 @groguandthebadbatch @housepartyfortwo @donntmindmejustwandering @briefexpertdeer @ms-grassi @galaxyglittering and anybody still haunting the fanfic tags.
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🍽 "eat up" is really the only blessing needed for this meal, as Omega is looking a little ashen and Crosshair is pretty much a dead man walking. It's better that they get started ahead of you anyway, as you're not exactly the type of host that neglects guests on purpose.
🍽 once each of them picks up their respective spoons, however, that's when things take a slight turn for the worse.
🍽 not only does Crosshair's hand shake something terrible, but whatever first taste he hoped to get today spills out onto the table long before he can even bring it to his mouth.
🍽 he answers this accident with a very loud curse word, a thing you would normally hear in the shipyards beyond your house, but not so much in the town.
🍽 nevertheless, as you see him grip at his forehead and wince, you're quick to offer him a napkin, as you know for a fact that you'd hate to be embarrassed in front of strangers, too.
🍽 whatever it takes to get this one calmed down.
🍽 thankfully, you're also not the only one paying attention here, because Omega wastes no time in coming over to assist. Meaning, at least in this situation, she's able to steady his hand just enough to get more than one spoonful into him. (Thank the Force.)
🍽 once he's calmed himself down a bit more, those tremors also lessen enough to allow himself to finish eating on his own. This allows Omega to go back and eat as well, especially with Crosshair insisting that no, he doesn't need her to be his nursery droid, please take care of yourself, too.
🍽 as you remind them in your most gentle tone possible, however...you have questions. Questions about where they came from, what they were doing before their escape, and who exactly might notice that they're missing.
🍽 Omega does most of the talking for this stage, though not without a hint of bitterness in her voice when she mentions the name Hemlock. According to her, as you are careful to not let yourself forget, it's almost a certainty that he's responsible for her brother's new 'condition', if not also the literal suffering of hundreds back in the place they call Tantiss.
🍽 at this same time, you hear her continue, he and a few of his former patients might also be the ones that come calling if you all don't leave soon. She mentions an island called Pabu, though she confesses to not knowing the name of the planet it's on. No matter what, though, they'll be trying to track her down and you need to leave soon.
🍽 we will, you're careful to promise her, not wanting to delay any action that could keep the three of you out of harm's way, but you still have a few more questions to ask.
🍽 first, why did the two of you get separated from the others in the first place?
🍽 and second...why does your brother keep gripping his head like that?
🍽 it's only after you ask this final question that Crosshair finally speaks up, the weight of a thousand crimes evident in his brief, three-word answer.
🍽 "It's my fault."
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z-socks · 2 months
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He Soars
*banging my fists, chanting: winged Clones winged Clones winged Clones Crosshair-centric, some mild body horror when discussing Echo because Techno Union. Also the Empire being assholes. Season 2 spoilers (The Outpost).
Crosshair had always hated his wings. They were large, dark, laborious things, with rough feathers that had cut him more than once until he learned to keep them away from his body. The copious, smothering down choked him in the night, suffocating him with heat and irritating fuzz down the back of his throat. 
The Regs all had the same wings: something akin to the shriek hawks of their Template’s home. They were shiny, patterned in golden hues like the Clones’ eyes and shaped and sized to be useful in battle. 
Clone Force 99 did not have the wings of the Regs. Hunter's were slim and cut, rounded with specialized feathers that made his approaches from the air lethally silent. Tech's were scooped and agile, designed for soaring and diving sharply while in flight. Wrecker’s were the only wings comparable to Crosshair's in size. But they were pure white with imposing flight feathers and capable of being beat with deadly force. 
Crosshair's wings were useless. 
A sniper with wings impossible to hide was not a very useful asset. So he learned early on how to make them work for him. He learned to stick to shadows and use them to hide, to lash out a wing and cut down a droid, to let his brothers crush his suffocating down by curling against him when the endless stretches of space got cold. 
And then came Kaller and the order and the girl. 
His brothers left. 
The Empire deemed the Clones’ wings an annoyance. Their size was hard and expensive to accommodate for in their standardized barracks. Their down clogged the life support filters. And their feathers’ rustling impeded on the other troopers’ sleep. 
A suggestion to have them removed was met with a counterpoint. Why spend the money on surgery? Just remove the Clones. 
Cross watched Regs disappear from the ranks. His eyes catching the way their wings sagged, unstretched and unflown, atrophying in the grip of the new Empire. His own wings felt heavier these days, causing him to haunch over from their weight. 
He was one of six Clones sent to Barton-IV to retrieve a shipment that had been held there. His squad ran into his wings on purpose, complaining under their breath about having no room on the transport and how he should be with the other beasts. 
Cross shrugged it off. 
It was far from the first time he’d been likened to a monster. 
Clone Commander Mayday’s wings were the second worst pair Crosshair had ever seen, only beat out by Echo’s when they’d rescued him from Anaxes: nearly bald, half blown off, and bent wrong from being stuffed into a stasis chamber with no room for them. The smell of decaying feathers had emanated from the corporal. And Mayday and his brothers had the same stench. 
Their feathers were molting, ragged as they clung on by sickly quills. Strips of fabric like that on their armor were looped and tied to fill in the bare spots. Even their color looked faded but Cross wasn’t sure if that had more to do with the dim light provided by the coilheater. 
“What’s your name?” he asked Crosshair, the first person in too many cycles to do so. Cross hesitated. But this was a dead man walking, giving him a name that would likely die on his tongue within a tenday was harmless enough. 
“Crosshair.” 
The Reg nodded. “Follow me.” 
They inspected their meager equipment. Mayday showed him all that was broken. 
A large shadow passed overhead. The call of a monstrous bird. 
“Ice vulture,” Mayday informed, eyeing Crosshair. “Vicious creatures. But you have to admire them. They find a way to survive.” 
Then came the raid. Their hunt. The ice cave. 
“No sense carrying dead weight.” 
Mayday hummed. “'Less you need to to survive.” 
Crosshair shot him a puzzled look. 
“Them vultures carry dead weight all the time.” He shrugged. "Gotta eat."
The mine. The raiders. The avalanche. 
“Mayday.” His voice nearly broke as he dug the commander out of the snow. He’d lost more feathers in the onslaught, fresh skin exposed and bleeding on the patches left behind. 
The climb was excruciating. The wind sliced through them. 
When they finally found enough of an outcropping to shelter behind, Cross folded his wings around them, for once, grateful for the excessive down. The rough feathers kept the snow and ice from building up. Their size big enough to protect them both from the blistering winds. 
“I remember you, you know,” Mayday whispered against his neck. “The clone with the big black wings.” He huffed a choked off laugh. “Mean little thing. But I knew better. I’d seen you fly.”
A memory came forward, fuzzy, hazy in the whiteout snow. The training room on Kamino had been tall enough to allow them to practice aerial maneuvers. Crosshair’s monstrous wings had never fit in the crowded space with the Regs. But late at night, he’d sneak out to fly.
“The command cadet.” 
He remembered now, getting caught one night by an older cadet in red. But the cadet had let him off easy, saying lightly that it was past bedtime. Cross had waited to be punished for sneaking out. But the CC cadet had merely left the training room to continue his assigned patrols. 
“Bet you’d never dream this be how you found out ya belong here,” Mayday murmured, huddled in close to Crosshair, buried deep into the soft down of his wings. 
Cross quietly inquired what he meant but Mayday had lost consciousness once more. 
The storm stopped with the sunrise. An Ice Vulture circled overhead.
The climb was no less difficult. And Mayday’s exhaustion meant Cross was walking for them both. He used his wings, flapping them to help propel their steps. 
It felt… good. Like he was made for this.
His wings had room, could stretch fully. The wind ran through his down and along his sharp flight feathers. It caught them occasionally, beckoned them to fly. 
They reached the outpost. They collapsed and Crosshair begged for help. 
The Lieutenant refused. 
Mayday was going to die. 
The shot. The chaos that followed. 
But he was made for this. 
He took out some of the troopers and command first, single shots. He was a sniper after all, even from the ground instead of in his nest. The Clones charged him and he switched it to stun. 
Good soldiers follow orders. He had. Mayday had. They had. And they were still considered dead weight. 
A stolen shuttle, Mayday hastily loaded in the back, the rest of the scattered imperials on their tail. 
But he was made for this. 
A sharp dive like that of scooped agile wings. A silent approach from behind like that of specialized feathers. A shot to their flank, percussive like beating pure white wings. 
They fell from the sky. 
He soared. 
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vizslasaber · 14 days
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a new fic is posted! <3
Rex wills his voice not to crack under the weight of his grief. “He—he tore through us like flimsi. Cut my men into pieces.” His breath shudders as he sighs. “Then he jumped out a window, but we caught him after a while. Not that bad of a chase, all things considered.” The joke falls short. There’s silence. Rex works his jaw and continues. “We were—I was going to execute him.” He closes his eyes. “I couldn’t. Something in me—I just couldn’t.” When he says it out loud, it feels silly. Childlike. Just days before, he’d finished off a dying Umbaran in his casual, doing-his-duty manner. Rex is no Jedi. Sometimes even unarmed men need to die. [Or: in the aftermath, they take Krell into custody. It might just be the smartest thing Rex has ever done.]
tags are under the cut!
no matter the wreckage (4869 words) by vizslasaber Chapters: 1/6 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Pong Krell & CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Pong Krell, Ahsoka Tano, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-5597 | Jesse, Padmé Amidala, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Original Clone Trooper Medic Helix (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Boil (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s04e10 Carnage of Krell, Post-Umbara Arc (Star Wars), Fix-It, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Protective Anakin Skywalker, The clones love their Jedi, and vice versa, pong krell lives, Pong Krell Being an Asshole, useless codywan yearning, Mutual Pining, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Break, anakin and cody Dont Like Each Other agenda, a lot of anger issues on the part of one (1) anakin skywalker, Survivor Guilt, Clone Trooper-centric (Star Wars), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, krell saves the galaxy, (sort of), Rating May Change, Clone Troopers and Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars)
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x-authorship-x · 6 months
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NEW FIC ALERT
FREEDOM FIGHTER
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types
Tags: Force-Sensitive Finn, Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, That's Not How The Force Works, Jedi as Found Family, Protective Clone Troopers, Finn-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side
Summary: FN-2187 was not a Good Stormtrooper, for all that he was a skilled one.
Good Stormtroopers followed orders. They didn't question their surroundings, didn't doubt, didn't feel guilt and grief… didn't wish that the First Order never existed.
And they definitely, definitely, didn't have the Force.
AKA
FN-2187 was more important than anyone could have possibly anticipated.
The Sith, for one, absolutely hadn't seen him coming.
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cosleia · 7 months
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Balm
kylux, canon divergence, 790 words. Originally written on Twitter.
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Alone together in exile, Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren develop offset schedules. Hux is so used to his military routine that he naturally gets up before the sun. Kylo has discovered that he’s actually a night owl, so he gets up a couple hours before Hux is ready for dinner. They eat together and then Kylo stays up all night.
Kylo has never really had a routine before. He was just awake when he needed to be awake and slept when he could manage to sleep. He feels calm now.
Hux enjoys his quiet mornings and early afternoons. The alone time lets him work on his many projects.
Sometimes Hux wakes Kylo up with sex. Sometimes Kylo wakes Hux up with sex.
They live simply off money Hux stole from the First Order. They don’t have to work. Hux takes odd repair jobs anyway. Kylo spends the first year or so doing absolutely nothing, beholden to no one.
Kylo has always wanted to just be himself. But he’s never been quite sure who that is. The expectations from everyone around him make it hard to know what he really wants.
Hux expects things too, but they are related only to the way Kylo treats him. Nothing else.
Hux doesn’t expect Kylo to do anything. To work, to defeat anyone, to save anyone (even him).
Kylo thinks he would save Hux if he could. That he would have saved him, if he could have.
Some afternoons when Hux wakes him it’s because he’s crying in his sleep.
Their lives are quiet.
They weren’t, in the beginning.
In the beginning, after the proximity sensors in Hux’s life pod and Kylo’s ancient TIE picked each other up and they joined forces in order to get somewhere with food and water, they screamed at each other over the comms.
Hux was past caring. He probably shouldn’t have survived Pryde shooting him anyway. He was already dead.
Kylo was defensive and confused. He’d thought he was dead, that it was over, but he’d woken up right where he’d passed out, everyone gone and the planet falling apart.
They stood a better chance together than apart, at least in the beginning. But after they found safe port and could easily have parted ways, Kylo found himself lingering, and Hux found himself not telling Kylo to leave.
Their arguments grew less heated and significantly lower in volume. There were a million ways things could have gone. Things hadn’t gone any of those ways. This was how things had gone. Eventually there was no point in retreading any of it. Hux had finally exhausted his anger.
The first time they kissed, it was because Kylo cut himself helping Hux reassemble the engine of their little ship, and Hux tended the wound with more care than Kylo had ever experienced from him. It was an all-new sensation, and Kylo, overwhelmed, pressed in close for more.
Hux pushed him away, and that was when he laid down his rules: You will not touch me without permission. You will not do anything to me without permission. You will respect me and my person if you want to stay.
Kylo wanted to stay.
The second time they kissed, it was months later and they’d finally found a place to live hidden away from the galaxy’s eyes. Hux, relieved, thinking that maybe he could finally relax a little after all this time, turned to Kylo, wanting to express how he was feeling somehow.
Kylo was watching him like he already knew. And maybe he did, thanks to the Force. His eyes were soft and he was smiling. It was as if he was actually happy that Hux was happy.
“I hate you,” Hux said, somehow resigned and elated at the same time. Then he kissed him.
When he was finished, Kylo said, “I have a rule too. You can kiss me whenever you want.”
“That’s not a rule,” Hux said, and kissed him again.
They live in a little house with a bedroom, a living room with kitchenette, a refresher, and a basement that sits on a reasonable plot of farmland on a backwater planet well beyond the standard hyperspace lanes. They farm moisture and grain. They are presumed dead by the galaxy.
Kylo’s connection with the Jedi girl was severed somehow by what happened at Exegol. Finally, he tells Hux everything.
“You got what you wanted,” Hux says.
“It wasn’t what I wanted at all,” Kylo answers. “Except.”
Except now, he’s no longer chained to Rey by the Force.
Now, he has a different sort of connection. One he chooses every day.
He isn’t sure how to explain that.
But Hux, taking his hand and leading him to bed, seems to understand.
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rexsokaficquotes · 3 months
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Rex. She needs to see Rex. Safe and in control. Ahsoka scrambles to her feet and makes for the lift. She needs to feel his skin, his heartbeat, and drown herself in his force signature.
— DarthGoose, from Chapter 17: Non-Aggressive Negotiations in ‘They Didn't Prepare Him for This on Kamino’
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I have two post-canon/canon-divergence Kylux fics that I am writing simultaneously. I should probably not do that, and focus on just one because working on both makes me get them mixed up in my mind, but I don’t want to. I love them both dearly even if they both end up with kind of messed plot-consistency due to my negligence.
I’m also working on a few other fics right now too (because I’m incapable of committing to anything) but none of the rest are canon universe, so they’re harder to get confused.
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callsign-pyro · 1 month
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What if instead of Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker we got a civil war esque movie in which General Hux and Kylo Ren struggle for power competing to gather more supporters and eventually Hux joins forces with the Resistance. Then, then Leia adopts him!!! I just think it would really be better for the plot
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kazoosandfannypacks · 4 months
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summary: 
 "Of all the mindless, idiotic, pointless, senseless, half-brained, dim-witted, bone-headed, just downright stupid things that Ezra had done in the last seven years since Sabine met him, this one was the biggest one.
 It would've been okay if he'd just not told her how he felt. She didn't mind the mixed signals when he even told her it was okay with him if she went out with Tarik. 
 But then, for whatever reason, Ezra had somehow convinced himself it was a good idea to show up at the restaurant with arm candy of his own— one of the catty Togruta sisters who was more than excited for a "front row seat to the Rebellion's second favorite 'will they/won't they.'"
 Sabine's own date had been stupid enough to let them make it a double date— and that stupidity combined with Ezra's own was a recipe for disaster."
and the argument that follows in its aftermath.
word count: 1.6K
a/n: my mom's been rewatching the jonas brothers tv show, and the first season is one of my silly little comfort shows, so i've enjoyed joining her for it when i can. a couple weeks ago while watching an episode, i heard the dialogue "what about a guy NOT asking a girl out because he likes her, huh? have you EVER stopped to consider that?" "that makes LITERALLY NO SENSE!" and i couldn't help but think of sabezra, so decided to make a oneshot based on this episode. most of the initial dialogue and actions is pulled from the show directly, but everything past sabine's "i see your point," is kazzy original material because the rest didn't give enough closure for a oneshot.
takes place post canon in an au where ezra did not get purrgiled. shoutout to @kanerallels, as always, for betaing! also, huge shoutout to @jessicas-pi for letting me borrow a couple of her ocs! you can read more about them in her absolute masterpiece of a story, commit to the bit!
taglist:@laughingphoenixleader  @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger  @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}
also on ao3!
We Gotta Work This Out
 Of all the mindless, idiotic, pointless, senseless, half-brained, dim-witted, bone-headed, just downright stupid things that Ezra had done in the last seven years since Sabine met him, this one was the biggest one.
 "If he didn't want me to go out with Tarik, he could've just said something, instead of butting into my social life like that," Sabine thought, fists clenched as she paced around The Ghost, "and if he wanted to be part of my social life, he should just say it."
 The past few months, Ezra had let hints of his feelings for her drop on more than one occasion, and she hadn't exactly been subtle about how she felt either. And yet, Ezra hadn't asked her out yet, and Tarik had, so of course, she'd said yes. She couldn't wait around forever just for Ezra to not say anything at all.
 It would've been okay if he'd just not told her how he felt. She didn't mind the mixed signals when he even told her it was okay with him if she went out with Tarik. 
 But then, for whatever reason, Ezra had somehow convinced himself it was a good idea to show up at the restaurant with arm candy of his own— one of the catty Togruta sisters who was more than excited for a "front row seat to the Rebellion's second favorite 'will they/won't they.'"
 Sabine's own date had been stupid enough to let them make it a double date— and that stupidity combined with Ezra's own was a recipe for disaster.
 Predictably, the romantic evening had fallen apart like a cheap ration bar. It started small, with a few clever and cutting remarks between Sabine and Ezra, but it ended with what would've been a not-so-friendly sparring match, if Am-Lee hadn't defused by asking them to pause so the holo of the moment she took for her gossip chain didn't turn out blurry. But instead of giving Ezra the butt-whooping he deserved, Sabine then took the high ground and told Tarik to take her home immediately.
 Unfortunately for both of them, home for Sabine didn't actually get her any further from Ezra, and as soon as he'd dropped off his date and returned to The Ghost, Sabine was waiting for him, arms crossed, not even having taken the time to change out of the dress she'd worn for her date.
 "What's up?" Ezra shrugged, using a casual saunter to hide how steamed up he still was.
 "'What's up?'" Sabine scoffed, "like you don't know 'what's up?' I don't understand how you could be so conceited, and selfish, and just thoughtless."
 "Yeah?" Ezra responded in kind, as though well prepared for her harsh words, "well, you are stuck-up, pretentious, and totally gorgeous."
 No insult he could've said would've thrown her off more than that last word.
 "Gorgeous?" Sabine asked.
 "What?" Ezra scowled.
 "You just said I was gorgeous," Sabine shook her head.
 "I meant adorable," Ezra poorly tried to cover, "so adorable you make me sick!"
 "I'm sorry," Sabine said, but by the end of her comment she was almost yelling, generations of Mandalorian rage flowing through her, "but if I'm so 'sickeningly adorable,' then why'd you come to the restaurant tonight?"
 Ezra changed the subject, his tone revealing that he was not a fan of that question.
 "Well, why did you go out with Tarik?"
 "Because he asked me!" Sabine was really yelling now, almost wondering why she'd fallen for someone dumb enough to even ask a question like that. "Isn't that how it works, Ezra? A guy asks out a girl because he likes her?"
 "Because if that's how it works," Sabine thought, fist clenched, "then it's quite clear how Ezra feels about me."
 "What about a guy not asking out a girl because he likes her, huh?" Ezra retorted, as if it were the most obvious and logical comeback in the galaxy and not a strong contender for dumbest thing he'd ever said. "Have you ever thought about that?"
 He walked past her, but she wasn't about to let him leave her before she figured out what his comment was even supposed to mean. She turned around and found he had stopped and turned back as well, and was looking at her.
 "What?" she asked, blood still boiling, wondering if she'd get clarification or just further confirmation of his stupidity.
 "I don't wanna risk everything you and me don't have together!" Ezra snapped.
 "That makes absolutely no sense!" Sabine snapped back.
 "Yeah? Well sometimes things don't make sense!"
 She tried to argue, but in the heat of the argument, she hadn't noticed the sudden heat of him putting his hand on her neck and pulling her close to him. Before she knew what was happening, their lips made their first meeting, and somehow, it was a beautiful one.
 Sabine wasn't sure how to respond to this— holy kriff, it was a kiss, he was kissing her— to this kiss. Her instincts told her to punch him in the gut, but her heart said to pull him closer, because she'd been waiting a long time for this.
 But she didn't have a chance to do either before he pulled away, and she breathed out in response a heavy, "oh."
 Because as upset as she was at Ezra, he'd just absolutely floored her. As much as she couldn't stand him right now, she'd really enjoyed that. As much as she wanted to claim she never wanted to see him again, she knew what she really wanted was to kiss him again.
 Ezra was right. Sometimes things just don't make sense.
 "I see your point," she nodded, looking away from him, still trying to process what had just happened, and not needing Ezra's stupid pretty face clouding her judgment.
 His kiss was reckless and impulsive and thoughtless and, once again, in true Ezra fashion, a downright stupid thing to do. Was this his idea of telling her how he felt? Or just a cheap attempt at shutting her up?
 Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips parted in some breathless, awestruck smile, then noticed that his eyes rested on her.
 "Why did you do that?" Sabine asked.
 "I don't know," Ezra shook his head.
 "You do," Sabine turned back to him.
 "You're right," Ezra nodded, slowly, "and I think you know too."
 Sabine bit her lip and nodded, then shook her head. After all the stupid things he'd done that day, he owed her, at the very least, the explanation they both knew was true.
 "I need to hear you say it," she said.
 She read the fear in his eyes. He had no way of knowing for sure she felt the same way. He could be risking seven years of friendship on an emotional whim— though, with everything that had already happened that day, it would be hard either way to salvage any semblance of the friendship they'd once had.
 He opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it and shook his head.
 "That's what I thought," Sabine thought, shaking her head, turning away from him, walking away from him, "if he can't tell me how he really feels..."
 "I'm in love with you."
 Sabine stopped dead in her tracks. Had Ezra really just said what she thought he said?
 She turned halfway around, then turned her head a little further to face him, then shook her head in disbelief.
 "What?" she asked.
 "I love you," Ezra said, breathing heavily with fear, "that's why I did— all of that. I love you."
 Sabine smiled, then bit her lip, then took a couple steps closer to him.
 "You really mean that?" she asked.
 "Yeah," Ezra said, and his tone and the look in his eyes turned a casual word into a wholehearted declaration of love.
 Sabine stepped closer to him, and from the look in his eyes, she knew he had no idea how she'd respond.
 Which meant he didn't see it coming at all when she reached for his neck, pulled him closer, and planted her lips back on his. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, and as soon as Ezra realized what was happening, his hands were on her sides. 
 It was the kind of kiss that made all the years of waiting for it totally worth it. She heard him sigh, and felt his lips curve into a smile, and hers did the same, and it was the best kriffing moment of her life.
 They didn't pull their lips away from each other until all of that frustration and rage and anger had sunk away, leaving in their place just a carefree joy at each other's mere presence. Even still, his hands didn't leave her sides, and hers didn't leave his shoulder— though now her other hand had slid up to his face, her thumb now softly stroking the scars on his cheek.
 "Now, why did you do that?" Ezra asked, a playful look in his eyes and a smitten smile on his lips.
 "I think you know why," Sabine whispered, biting her lip to keep from smiling too much.
 "I need to hear you say it," Ezra smiled, and he teasingly brushed his nose against hers.
 She sighed, almost like a laugh, and looked deep into his eyes.
 "Because I love you too," she whispered.
 He smiled shyly, letting go of one hand's grip on her side so he could cradle the back of her neck instead.
 She closed her eyes and actually giggled a little, then pressed her forehead lovingly against his.
 Maybe he was still downright stupid sometimes— but hey, she was too. Maybe she still had a lot to learn about how love works— but hey, he did too.
 And now they could work it out together.
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