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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

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Beskar Doll - Ch. 1: Faceless Man

You're in trouble. Again. And the only person who can get you off world? A Mandalorian bounty hunter. Chapter Master List. AO3. Overall Master List.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: None yet! No use of Y/N. Whole piece is violent and smutty so minors? DNI. 18+ ONLY.

Length: 3.9k

A/N: Hi all! So the first 30 chapters of this are up on AO3 (linked above) but I plan to post about a chapter a day here until I'm caught up. Read along at whatever pace brings you joy on whatever site brings you joy! I'm just too lazy to post all the existing chapters here in one go, so we're spreading this out a bit. Thank you so much for reading! I love you all!

6 ABY - 3 Years Ago

Your father, you were certain, was being paranoid.

His eyebrows had been knitted together for days, a perpetual frown on his hardened but handsome face. He had never been paranoid before, though. Worried, sure. You don’t end up baking in the desert suns of Tatooine after fleeing your home during galactic civil war without worry. Worry you could deal with. But this? This was new.

“We’ll find someone who can take you off world,” he said, more to himself than to you, his fingers knitting together on the cantina table. He was wearing his best clothes, some of the last he had left from your years on Naboo, hoping that looking like he had money would get someone to take him seriously. But the once fine garments were washed out and worn, the cuffs tattered and elbows threadbare. Anyone looking closely would see through him. “Once you’re away from here, you’ll be safe…”

“I’m safe here,” you put your hands over his, thumbs running over his knuckles. “You’re over reacting…”

“No,” he shook his head, voice firm. “You don’t know what beings like that will do, you’re too young to remember the worst of the Empire…”

“I remember plenty,” you cut him off. You’d meant for your voice to be soothing but instead it sounded impatient and harsh. “This is nothing like that…”

“No, you’re right,” he snapped. “This is worse. They’re not coming for us or our planet, they’re coming for you.” You rolled your eyes and fell back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. With any luck, the bounty hunter who the friend of a friend told your father might be willing to take on some “questionable cargo” wasn’t even on planet. Soon, you could make the trek home and put this stupid spaceport trip - and your father’s paranoia - behind you.

“Darling girl,” he said, Bothese comforting after being surrounded by Basic. “Your mother and I cannot lose you. We have to do everything we can to protect you…”

The cantina went quiet and your father did too as he looked past you to the entrance, following the eyes of everyone else in the bar. He swallowed, hard, and you twisted to see just what had caught his attention. In the door, blotting the light from the street beyond, was a man covered in armor. Your mouth went dry. You hadn’t been surrounded by faceless threats since the war and this tall, broad man was nothing if not a threat.

He looked around, analyzing the space like a warrior or a hunter. You moved slowly, cautiously - like an animal trying to not become prey - to put yourself between this man and your father. The faceless man was large and your father hadn’t been well in years. You would survive a hit from this man - or you thought you would, at least. Your father might not.

The man spotted you, turning his attention to your table and the rest of the cantina picked up where they left off - relieved to not be in his sights. Your spine stiffened. You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

But when he approached your table, he didn’t touch you. Instead, he stood in front of you, armor sending spots of light splashing onto the walls. He looked behind you, like you weren’t even there, down toward your father at the table.

“You needed transport,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” your father almost jumped to his feet before gently moving you aside, offering a handshake. The masked man didn’t take it. Your father stood there, awkwardly, for a moment before dropping his hand. “Yes, my daughter needs transport off world.”

You fought to not disagree with him in front of this large man, but you did give him a look all the same. Was he really going to send you off with this stranger? One whose face you couldn’t see and who looked like he could snap you like a twig?

“Where?” The man asked. You looked closer at him, trying to place the armor. He obviously wasn’t a stormtrooper - though the familiar unease you had when looking at one was there.

“Across the galaxy,” your father said quietly. “I’d rather you not know until you were both far from here.”

“I have other jobs I’m committed to,” he shrugged and turned to leave. For half a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. That you could go home. But your father was persistent.

“Good,” he said quickly, grabbing the man’s armored arm. You watched his reaction carefully. The man moved quickly at first, like he was responding to a threat, before catching himself half a second before you intervened. He looked slowly from your father’s hand to his face. You weren’t sure if your father even noticed, desperate to convince this man to take you away. “That’s good - better, in fact. It will make her harder to trace…”

“I don’t move fugitives,” he cut him off.

“She’s not,” your father said quickly. “She’s not in trouble with the law, it’s not that. There’s… She’s being hunted.”

You rolled your eyes as the man looked at you. You couldn’t see his eyes through the darkness of his visor but you could feel them on you, assessing you.

“He’s exaggerating,” you said. “I upset the wrong people…”

“There’s no bounty,” your father said quickly. “And no warrant. She just isn’t safe here. Please.”

The man looked back to your father.

“Across the galaxy comes at a cost,” he said. “And I can’t promise it will be quick.”

Your eyes widened a bit as you tried to hide your shock. The way the conversation had been going, you thought you’d be back home before too long, not one foot onto a faceless man’s transport.

“We can pay,” your father practically dove into the bag at his hip, pulling out a hunk of shining metal and holding it up as an offering. The man stood still for a second, looking at the metal, before taking it with a sense of reverence. You frowned as you saw it next to his helmet as he examined it. The chunk in his hand was rough but it was obviously the same material. “Please, it’s all we have left but it’s yours…”

“I’ll take her where she needs to go,” the man said, putting the metal in a pouch at his hip before turning to you. “Meet me at the Razor Crest, at the port. We leave in an hour.”

You watched the man leave before turning back to your father who sank into the booth. He looked resigned, his face firm.

“Father,” you shifted to Bothese, the first language he taught you after Basic, taking the seat across from him. “We don’t have to do this. I don’t want to do this. I want to stay here. You and Mother are all I have left, I can’t… Please. Don’t ask me to start over, not again. Or at least come with me…”

“We would be nothing but a risk to you,” he smiled sadly. “And I’m not sure your mother could survive it even if we could. Darling girl, it is our job to keep you alive. That is more important than me, her or our life here. The only way is if you leave. And you will leave, you can’t make us lose another child.”

It was a low blow. You were sure he had been saving it, a secret weapon to force you onto the vessel. Your mother’s health had been fragile since you’d come to Tatooine just over two years ago. Losing you to another planet would be hard, but losing you to death would be impossible.

“OK,” you said quietly, switching back to Basic. It didn’t feel right, accepting leaving what remained of your family in Bothese. “I’ll go.”

You sat in the cantina a while longer, pretending things were normal. You would miss this place. It wasn’t home exactly but it was familiar. That familiarity was hard won. You hadn’t expected to feel comfortable anywhere again, like you could let your guard down. It had taken more than a year of living on this planet to get there but you had and now you were leaving it behind.

If you’d doubted finding familiarity before, you were even less hopeful now. Without your family, you’d have nothing to hold onto, nothing to put down roots with. You’d felt lonely for a long time but to be truly alone was something else entirely.

Even though you walked slowly to the spaceport and found the hanger, it felt too fast.

“Mando!” A hanger worker called, running over to the ship as the armored man came down the ramp. You frowned, suddenly realizing why you recognized the armor. Mando. Mandalorian. Your father was shipping you away with the member of a religious cult that worshipped weapons. After all you’d done, all you’d seen…

“Father,” you put your back to the ship and lowered your voice. “This is a bad idea, Mandalorians…”

“Live by a creed and he said he would transport you,” he cut you off. “They’re unmatched warriors…” “He’s for sale,” you hissed. “Creed or no…”

“This isn’t the rebellion anymore, Darling Girl,” he brushed back the hair that had come loose from the knot on your head. “For sale is a good thing. He’ll get you there.”

You nodded, swallowing the tears threatening to break through. If you started crying now, leaving would be worse. Your father smiled sadly before pulling you into his arms, holding you to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Never forget how much we love you,” he said softly. “Be safe.”

“I’ll come back,” you said. “I’m not abandoning you…”

“No,” he stepped back from you, his hands on your shoulders. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Go out, live your life. Find happiness. You deserve that much. We never should have asked so much of you. We should have known it would have been different for you than it was for your mother…”

“I love you,” you changed to Bothese for what you hoped wouldn’t be the last time. You couldn’t bear this conversation. You’d rather never have it at all than have it now. “So much.”

“I know,” he kissed your forehead.

“Time to go,” the Mandalorian had appeared behind you, making you jump. You weren’t sure how someone so large and covered in metal could move so quietly but he managed it. He paused, looking down at you and your father. He turned to leave but seemed to think better of it. “I’ll get her there safely. You have my word.”

Your father gave him a grateful nod before the Mandalorian took his leave.

With a final squeeze of your hands, your father handed you the only bag you’d be starting your new life with. It was odd, holding all you had left in your hands. You tried to memorize his face, making notes of the lines around his mouth, the flecks of gold in his irises, the freckles across his cheeks. Neither of you could bring yourselves to say goodbye but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the ramp, resisting the urge to look back. There was no point in longing for what you could not have.

The ship was old, that was clear, but well loved. The Mandalorian obviously cared for it. You wondered if the ship’s age was necessity or a tactic. Surely other bounty hunters and New Republic patrols alike would underestimate it at a glance but you knew your ships. This one was solid.

“You should strap in in the cockpit for takeoff,” the Mandalorian appeared behind you again, sending your heart to your throat.

“Do you do that a lot?” You asked.

“Do what?” Even with the modulator he had a pleasant voice, soothing and even. It irritated you. You didn’t want to like anything about this man.

“Sneak up on people.”

The modulator picked up a puff of air.

“Yes.”

You glared after him as he stalked off to climb the ladder to the cockpit. You found what seemed like a safe nook to stash your bag, making sure nothing in the hold would shift and crush it when you launched, and followed him into the cockpit.

It wasn’t large but you’d flown in tighter spaces - one of the many things that came along with serving someone trained as a fighter pilot. The Mandalorian was already in the captain’s seat and the only other option was beside him. You sighed, taking your seat and buckling up as he started pushing buttons on the dash. You watched his launch sequence, trying to memorize it. You were far from the most skilled pilot you knew but you could get along in a pinch. You liked knowing at least how to operate the ships you were aboard - it felt safer that way, gave you a sense of control even when you didn’t have it.

You took one last look out at the hanger, your father still standing where you left him. You raised a hand, even though you know he can’t see it, bidding him farewell. You left it up as the ship rose off the ground, sand swirling, until the hanger was out of sight, not even a speck in the sea of yellow-orange that made up Tatooine.

“Wow,” you whisper, gazing down at the planet. The color was vibrant, a bright swirl below, taking focus to notice the variations that indicated the rise and fall of the dunes, the settlements that managed to survive the harsh climate. It was hard to believe you weren’t there anymore. That you’d ever been there at all.

“What?” The Mandalorian asked after a moment. It took you a second to realize that you’d spoken aloud.

“Oh,” you said, glancing over at him before looking back at the planet. “I just… I’ve never seen Tatooine from space. Any desert planet from space. I hadn’t really thought about how different it would seem…”

“You aren’t from here,” he said. It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway.

“No.”

“How didn’t you see it?”

“I just…” You paused. You remembered the disorientation of waking up there, a world you’d never touched, body throbbing with pain that threatened to put you under again, the sound of your mother sobbing. “I didn’t see it when we came in and I haven’t been off world since.”

You could feel his eyes on you again, silently evaluating you. You hated it.

“Where am I taking you?” He asked eventually. “Across the galaxy is a big target.”

“Dantooine,” you said, pulling your eyes from the planet you’d tried to call home to look at the armor-clad man beside you. He nodded slowly.

“It will be a long trip,” he said, punching in coordinates on his navi. “I have some pucks that need fulfilling.”

“I’m in no rush,” you sank down in the chair with a shrug. “There’s nothing waiting for me there.”

He looked back over at you. His gaze was unnerving. The helmet set you on edge, the total coverage too close to the armor of a stormtrooper. They were faceless killing machines, beings designed to inflict as much pain and death as they could wherever they touched. Their uniformity made them inhumane, distanced them from their victims in a way that made it so they could mercilessly slaughter innocents. Whole planets had been lost to the Empire at the hands of faceless men. You didn’t like being so close to this one.

“Is it safe for me to go to the hold?” You asked after a moment. He looked at you. “I don’t want to be on the ladder if we’re jumping.”

“You’re safe,” he said after a moment. You gave him a stiff nod and went below, leaving him to input your route.

***

There was something off about his new… cargo. Din didn’t like not knowing what was going on his ship. When he picked up a bounty, he knew who they were, what they’d done and who was willing to pay. It was simple. You were another story.

A contact had told him to seek you out at the cantina. Well, not you, exactly. An older Naboo man willing to pay well for a cargo run. The contact he trusted. Mostly. But the lead seemed good and it was better to pick up some cargo here than run empty handed to start hunting again, especially if the cargo wasn’t on a time crunch. He wasn’t expecting the cargo to be human.

He’d nearly turned it down, but the desperation on the older man’s face made him give in and when he saw the beskar, he couldn’t say no. He’d almost reconsidered when he saw you both at the hanger again, but something your father said made him bite his tongue. “We never should have asked so much of you.”

He didn’t know a lot of Naboo but they’d never struck him as the type to force things on their children. Your father obviously loved you. It puzzled him.

He wondered, idly, if your family had been powerful Imperials. The Emperor had been from Naboo, and if you’d been shipped off to Tatooine on some fancy cruiser, of course you wouldn’t have seen it as you landed - too busy lounging in your finery. He scoffed. Maybe someone had learned what you were and were hunting you down. Why else would you be going across the galaxy when your home world was so close? If he was right, you’d deserve it.

He finished programming the navi, almost purposely picking the puck that would take him further from Dantooine, not closer. If you were Imperial, he’d still fulfill his contract. He’d given his word and he wouldn’t go back on it. But he wouldn’t have to make it easy on you.

Eventually, he went down into the hold. He told himself it was to use the fresher and settle in for the night but, really, he wanted to know what you were up to. If you were Imperial, there was a chance you’d try to kill him. Small, perhaps, but it was there. He’d like to know it was coming.

It took him longer than he liked to find you. It put him out of sorts, not knowing exactly where things were on his ship, especially living things. On the rare occasions he transported people who weren’t prisoners, they stuck to sitting on a crate, in the copilot’s seat or in the galley. You, however, had folded yourself into a nook between crates, hiding you from view. If it hadn’t been for the heat signature, he may not have found you at all.

He approached silently, wondering if he could catch you in the act. He looked down at you from the top of the crates but you were almost disappointing. You’d taken your hair down since you’d come aboard, the curtain of it so long that part of it pooled on the floor around your hips. There was a data pad on your lap and you were looking at it intently, lips slightly pursed. The only indication that something was off was the redness in your eyes and a tear clinging to your lower lashes.

“What are you reading?” He asked. You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching the data pad to your chest. He snorted.

“Maker!” Your body went limp against the crate before you turned your steely gaze on him. “Why do you do that?”

“It’s my ship,” he shrugged. “I can do what I want.”

“Yes, because that’s a good reason,” you rolled your eyes before unfolding yourself from the space between crates and standing up to look him in the eye. He was still more than a head taller than you - the top of your head would barely graze his chin if he pulled you against him.

“You found a hiding place,” he said, nodding to the cramped spot. He didn’t think he could sit inside it the way you did, his bulk too great. You were smaller, nimble.

“I like small spaces,” you said, sounding almost ashamed of it. After a moment you stuck your chin out proudly. “Not that it’s your business.”

“My ship, my business,” he shrugged. “I like to know where my cargo is.”

“I’ll stay in the hold like a good little bounty,” you glared at him.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he said, taking the data pad from you before you had the chance to stop him. He frowned. You hadn’t been reading at all. It was a picture. You were younger than you were now, probably a teenager. Your hair was braided elaborately and you were wearing something that looked almost impossibly soft to the Mandalorian. He wondered what it would be like to touch something that soft.

With you was obviously your family, your father’s arm around your waist on one side, the woman who had to be your mother on the other. There were two young men behind you, both in Naboo pilot uniforms. You snatched the data pad back before he could take in the rest. You clutched it to your chest, clinging to it desperately.

“No,” you snapped, your voice cracking. “You don’t get to take this from me.”

“Don’t worry,” he said cooly. “Wouldn’t want to steal whatever fond memories you have of the Empire.”

You looked so offended that, for a moment, he thought he might be wrong. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you flicked off the data pad and stared him down.

“Is there a reason you were looking for me?” You asked.

“We’re headed to Crait,” he replied. “Stay out of the cockpit.”

“Fine,” you snapped.

“We don’t have the kind of accommodations you’re probably accustomed to,” he said, voice still cold. “But there’s a sleeping mat you can lay out in here.”

“I’m a moisture farmer,” you glared at him. “I’m not exactly used to luxury.”

“You weren’t always a moisture farmer, were you?” He said. It was the first time he’d asked you a question but it was obvious he didn’t expect a response. He didn’t know how he was going to get you to Dantooine without killing you. Imperials were responsible for the devastation of his people and his planet and now he was carting one clear across the galaxy - an annoying one at that. You didn’t say anything but your glare was watery. “Didn’t think so. What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?” You snapped.

“I like to know what I’m hauling,” he replied.

“Liska,” you said after a moment. He paused.

“What name were you using when you took that picture,” he asked.

“You can’t take that from me, either,” you replied.

He looked at you for a moment. He couldn’t research you without a name but given the state of archives from the Imperial era, he’d probably be out of luck anyway. Liska might be a pile of bantha shit but it was something.

“Sleeping pad is in the cabinet next to the fresher,” he said. “Try not to sleep where you’ll get crushed.”

With that he stalked off, leaving you alone with your memories.

#fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #the mandalorian #smut fic #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x female reader

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newtie-patootie-bootie · 5 months

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Masquerade (Chapter 5)

Summary: This is your third season and your aspirations on finding love are dwindling but news on Lady Whistledown’s society pages say that there is to be a foreign royal in attendance to the season. Could this royal dignitary be the one you’ve been waiting for, or could there be a mysterious stranger lurking in the shadows, waiting to pluck your heart for his?

Disclaimer: I do not own Bridgerton nor The Mandalorian- all rights go to the owners and creators of their separate stories.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and minor blood and wounds- nothing too major. (I tell you, we’re getting into it, I promise!)

|| Please do not repost or plagiarise my work ||

If you’d like to read more of my works, please visit my Masterlist!

Tags: @technicallykawaiisoul @call-me-soap @the-feckless-wonder @elinedjarin @bluevxnus @literallydontlook @sm0l-0ne @1am9root6 @ems-alexandra @notsosecretspy

(If I have forgotten anyone who wished to be tagged, please do remind me~!)

This work is also cross-posted on Ao3 at: pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms

Din rarely lost his composure, mostly maintaining a calm demeanor even when faced with overwhelming trials and tribulations.

This one was one of those times where he had to show the most restraint.

His jaw ticked in irritation as dark eyes stayed pinned on his general and he leant over his desk, hands curled into fists as they rested atop the oak surface. Important documents crinkled under his twisting knuckles as Paz relayed the day’s earlier events. “There was no correspondence ahead of time to warn us of any vessel of ours sailing on international waters. We are lucky that we have not been questioned but I suspect it will not be overlooked so easily the next time.”

“There will not be a next time, Paz. Not if I can help it.” Gravelly and cold, the voice of the true man beneath the royal title and gold-enlaced armour bled through. “What the kriff was she thinking?”

"We were not informed that there was any ship scheduled to sail. As such, I have had no reports from our staff or any correspondence from our Naval officers ahead of time that would suggest we are in need of supplies which means-” 

“-this was planned and executed in secret.” Din growled, teeth grinding together as he untied the cravat constricting his throat and tossed it into the corner of his office without a second thought, resuming his previous position as he desperately tried to calm his breath. “I am growing tired of secrets and hidden plots hatching right under my nose.”

“That’s not all, Manda’lor.” Din tensed at Paz’s apprehensive tone, clicking his tongue as he inhaled sharply through his nose, “apparently the other clans are doubting your actions. They question why you did not choose one of our own to be your riduur.”

He exhaled sharply, slamming a fist against the wood. “You mean that my inferior birth must somehow be cleansed with a true Mandalorian? How many of those are out there, Paz?” Din questioned hotly, dark eyes meeting with his vod’s blue and Paz remained silent as his King let out his frustrations, “truly? If they wish for a true Mandalorian, I sincerely hope they enjoy living through another civil war. After The Great Purge and The Night of a Thousand Tears, I can count how many true Mandalorians remain on one hand.” Anger flamed deep within his chest as he continued, “not many of those of true blood remain amongst our people anymore. I did not see any one of those clan members raise their swords to fight the Imperial rule that they allowed to be wreaked upon them.”

“I admit when you first took the throne, I shared their opinions. I shared their doubts. I even issued a challenge because I believed you could not uphold the traditions of our culture and land.” Din remained silent, allowing Paz to speak his mind, “but you taught me that bloodline means little when one is to rule a kingdom.” Paz moved forward and set a strong hand on Din’s shoulder. “You proved your worth to be Manda'lor when you obtained the Darksaber and used it to liberate us from the Imps. This time, I shall fight for you if the need arises."

"Thank you, vod." Din straightened from his hunched position and sighed deeply through his nose, "it seems I must make appearances at more social gatherings to dissuade the lieutenant. I will not allow her to hurt Lady Dalton."

Paz's hardened expression softened to something akin to pride, "you care for her, don't you?"

Another sigh and the King of Mandalore raised his gaze to his clan-brother, voice barely above a whisper, "more than I am willing to admit."

“I believe we must make a statement.” Paz spoke, “the Manda’lor must make a statement.” 

“What kind of statement, Paz? That my affection for Lady Dalton exceeds two personalities that I have been forced to craft, no thanks to my impertinent General?” Din raised his eyebrows while Paz simply rolled his eyes in response.

“I mean, di’kut,” the familiar insult curled Din’s lips into a familiar smile and he gestured for Paz to finish, taking the seat opposite his desk and he leant back, “that we should hold a ball. Open the estate to the masses and allow them to see our culture and our ways.” 

Din sucked on his bottom lip as he pondered the notion. “This could only go one of two ways.” 

“Well, then we make it go our way.” Paz answered simply, “the Manda’lor is still a shadow to most of the ton. It is time they understand the strength and valour he represents. That they understand the reason you are here.” Paz sighed, looking down at his vod with as much softness as he could muster. “You are here to sample western culture and to take one of their daughters for your bride. They must see you for who you are, they must understand the man beneath the helm and the crown. They must see you.”

Din took in Paz’s words, a harsh sigh expelling from his lips and he stood up, moving toward his small cart topped with various alcohols and picked up a tumbler before allowing a large pour of Mandalorian brewed cognac. 

He passed one to Paz before pouring himself one as well. With one hand in his pants pocket, he turned to face Paz and took a sip of his beverage. “Send a message to Karga to prepare himself to sail. I will require his assistance.” 

“Of course, Manda’lor.” Paz pressed a fist to his chest, over his heart before straightening up. “And what will you do?” 

“I will attend the Vauxhall Gardens.” He raised a finger from his glass to Paz and immediately silenced his General’s next words. Din swallowed softly, taking his pen and he took out a fresh piece of parchment before taking his seat once again and placed his cognac beside the stack of paperwork. “You are right. The Manda’lor can no longer hide.”

You basked in the sunlight, standing just off to the side of the lake, your delicate umbrella resting on the base of your shoulder as you twirled it lazily in thought.

The latest Whisteldown had been released and somehow, the details of the Manda'lor’s special attention toward you had caught her unnerving gaze. It didn’t take long for the hoards of mama’s and daughters to make plans to cast Mando’s gaze from you. Little did they know that you did not care for his gaze. 

However, the dream your mind produced last night disproved those feelings:

Your garments piled atop each other in an undignified heap.

You lay on your back, clinging to him amongst the silk sheets. A gentle stream of light beamed across his back from between the gossamer curtains. 

Your hips bucked into his body as his fingertips traced invisible patterns along the sensitive flesh of the back of your thighs. A chuckle rumbled against the shell of your ear as he lifted your legs and made you curl them around his narrow hips, “cross your ankles together, Sarad.” You immediately took to his instruction and locked them together at the base of his back, your core flush with his. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands slid from your naked thighs, curling around your hips and waist. He pinched and pulled at the ties of your smallclothes before burying his aching touch into the mussed bedding by your head. His lips began to trail a line of hot, needy kisses along your naked shoulder and throat- tongue curling against your thumping pulse point and your eyes rolled back as his teeth gently pulled at the soft skin before he soothed and suckled around the faint marks he left behind.

He didn’t allow you to feel the bashfulness associated with this moment; this life-changing event that you had been raised for. The moment you’d been unconsciously preparing for with all those years of lessons to be a proper young lady and three whole seasons spent with little to no thought of any suitor that vied for your hand.

Your hands slowly traced the contours of his arms, curling into the dip of his shoulders before slowly coming to frame his jaw and pushed him back slightly to take in his features.

His face mingled between the stoic beskar helmet and Din’s carnal grin.

Din and Mando’s voice melded into one as they both whispered, “Sarad.” 

A loud squeal tore you from your sinful musings and you turned to witness the commotion just as you spotted your youngest siblings chasing each other just ahead of where your family had set their picnic for the morning. 

Ryder lounged on his garden chair, nose deep in the morning’s paper as your mother sat beside him, idly perusing through the latest Whistledown for the third time today.

“Is something troubling you, owlet?” Your father’s voice murmured from beside you and you sighed deeply.

Turning back to the shimmering waters of the lake, you pondered your whirlwind thoughts before shaking your head, “simply reflecting on these weeks past, father. Nothing of import.” 

Thomas’ sigh was a copy of yours and he turned to face the lake. “I understand that the unorthodox amount of attention placed upon you must feel so overwhelming,” he began quietly, “when I had attended my first season I couldn’t even speak to any of the ladies also promenading for suitors.” 

That got your attention and you looked up at your father who sported a small, amused smile. “You, the Duke of Wintere were too shy to socialise with the women of the ton?” 

Thomas simply smiled, “I could not even attend their residence to leave them gifts to even be recognised as a proper suitor.” 

You giggled at the thought of your father stuttering in front of the women of the town expecting the Duke of Wintere to be a suave and confident gentleman. “I can’t imagine you being so anxious, Papa.” Then a thought struck you. “Didn’t you marry Mama in your first season?”

“Your mother brought a side out of me I wasn’t aware existed.” Thomas turned his head to face his beloved wife as she conversed with her eldest son and cradled her youngest child in her lap while their second son sat on the blanket, munching on grapes. “She made me the man I am today.” He slowly turned back to you and raised his hand, gently cupping your cheek, “follow your heart, my dear. It will never steer you wrong.”

You watched your father, a soft smile curling your lips as his words seared themselves in the chambers of your heart. “Yes, Papa.”

He smiled, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek before leaning forward and he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, “that’s my beautiful girl. Never settle for less than what you deserve.”

“Thank you, Papa.” He nodded once before taking his leave and walked back to your family and you turned back to face the water. One hand moved from the stem of the umbrella to curl around the silver locket that delicately hung around your throat. 

You were not familiar with the metal, but the intricate design resembled a hellebore. If it had not been accompanied by a letter then you would not have known who would have been so thoughtful.

At this point, you could memorise the letter word for word, recognise the penmanship almost immediately.

“Sarad,

I apologise for not replying to your recent letters, there have been some pressing matters that required my attention. However, I admit that most of my thoughts have been consumed by you.

Consequently, I hope this small token of my appreciation will win me back in your favour.

I am unsure if I have ever mentioned this, however Mandalore is rich in metals. More specifically, it’s called beskar. It is a highly profitable metal, incredibly durable and nigh impossible to destroy. I will no longer bore you with the scientific discoveries of a metal that I am sure you are no more interested in than those scandal papers you lament over.

I appointed my head blacksmith for this task. I trust her implicitly and I pray you do not find my forwardness too distasteful. I hoped you would enjoy something with a little more familiarity than a simple design that would hold no meaning for you.

However, I would be most appreciative to hear your thoughts in person rather than a scribed letter.

I will make an appearance at the Vauxhall Gardens tonight, I hope to see you there. I have heard it shall be an affair to remember.

Yours,

Mando.”

The smile threatening to split your cheeks hurt but there was nothing that could dim your happiness. 

However, the knot beginning to tighten in the base of your belly refused to loosen considering the event at the Vauxhall Gardens tonight. With Mando in attendance, it would be the first time you’d seen him since he’d walked with you in the park.

Perhaps, the soiree at the Gardens would alleviate some of your anxiety.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x bridgerton #bridgerton au #Bridgerton #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro x reader

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separatist-apologist · 9 days

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Hi MB!

I hope you had a wonderful May 4th!!

I’ve just recently gotten into StarsWars (specifically the clone wars) and have discovered Obi Wan and Satine. Are you a big fan of them?

Is Satine only in the clone wars or are there also books that she is in? And what are your favorite Obi wan books?

If you do ship them are there any fics that you have read that you recommend?

I consulted @melting-houses-of-gold for this list, anon- anyone looking for a SW fanfic rec should ABSOLUTELY hit her up (AND FOLLOW HER), she is a compendium of knowledge!

Had You Said The Word by @velidewrites:

*crawls out of delusion box* But what if Satine DIDN'T die?

TCW Season 5 Episode 16 reimagined to spare our feelings and simp for Dark Side!Obi Wan.

a map toward honor by @/galateagalvanized:

"Wait, I’m sorry, Satine, did you—did you steal two million clones?”

“‘Steal’, Obi-Wan? You can’t steal free-willed people." Satine laughs. "No, my dear. Kal sent me the access codes for every landing pad, door, and defense network the Kaminoans had, and we shut it all down. I don’t think even their automatic toilets were working by the time we walked through their front doors. After that, well. We had a nice chat with the clones, and we killed every single Kaminoan that tried to stop any of us from walking back out.”

Or: Satine steals some clones, steals a Jedi, and saves the universe. This is the way.

Morning Star by @/kurenaino: this is a series, so check out each work for the summary

The Jedi And His Duchess by @/sulis57:

Satine Kryze is a pacifist because of the Mandalorian civil war. But the idea first takes root in her mind after watching something terrible happen to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The story of how Obi-Wan and Satine fell in love when they were young, and how their feelings reemerged when they reconnected during the Clone Wars.

Told in dual timelines. Graphic Violence. Takes place pre Phantom Menace/post Clone Wars episode Duchess of Mandalore.

“Calm yourself, young one.” Qui-Gon’s large hands stroked her cheekbones. “Where is Obi-Wan?”

She stared at him with wild eyes, tears still running down her face. “They took him.”

Qui-Gon’s look changed instantly, his features fell as fear gripped his heart. “Where?”

“Down the mountain, by the river.”

“Who was it?”

“Five bounty hunters. Obi-Wan could sense them coming. He told me to run.” Her chin began to tremble. “But I heard him scream so I went back.”

Only Hope by @/tessiete: Another series, again check out the individual summaries!

She Said The Word by @/the_obiwan_for_me:

In one universe, Jedi padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi is not asked to stay by the love of his life, Duchess Satine Kryze. We all know how that story goes.

In another, she said the word.

How is the galaxy effected when the great Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi never existed?

What does a galaxy torn to pieces look like with family man/consort to the Mandalorian Duchess Obi-Wan Kenobi in it?

#i hope this was helpful!!#obitine #obi wan x satine #fic rec

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fellthemarvelous · 28 days

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Please try to remember the Death Watch are terrorists.

"We are the Death Watch. Our people were warriors. Strong. Feared! Now they're ruled by the New Mandalorians who think that being a pacifist is a good thing. They've given away our honor and tradition for peace. Duchess Satine and her corrupt leadership are crushing our souls, destroying our identity. That is our struggle." -Pre Vizsla

Maul met the Death Watch and their shared hatred for Obi-Wan and Satine is what destroyed Mandalore.

Read Pre Vizsla's speech here closely. Like so close.

Satine Kryze is not to blame for the destruction of Mandalore.

The Death Watch ARE EXTREMISTS!!!!

They used violence and death to take down an unarmed woman.

Satine Kryze did not cause Mandalore's downfall.

Maul and the Death Watch did, and they did so with cruelty because they made Obi-Wan watch helplessly as Maul murdered her.

She chose to LIVE IN PEACE because it is the right of people to live in peace. She didn't illegally obtain power. The other Houses entrusted her with Mandalore's safety.

It was the terrorist minority that had a problem with her. Satine refused to bow to terrorists.

Because war is not natural. War is not fun. War is pain and loss and a man-made creation of mass destruction.

Satine was so strong in her convictions that entire star systems made her the leader of their council of neutral systems because she was able to give her citizens the access to the peaceful life they deserved. She refused to let Mandalore's legacy become one remembered only for its bloodshed and violence. She knew she would probably end up being killed for her beliefs, but she stood up to every single person who told her that picking a side was the only way to peace when she and Mandalore were already living proof that it was possible to do that without Republic interference.

She died refusing to give in to all the men who tried to scare her into joining their side, and when she died on the blade of the darksaber after it fell into the hands of the angriest being in the galaxy, she still died with love and conviction in her heart. Her final words were not "avenge me". Her final words were "I've loved you always. I always will."

The other Mandalorians were right to trust her, not because she used fear and power to intimidate but rather love and compassion to give Mandalore the tools it needed to thrive.

I saw someone try to say that she didn't do pacifism correctly and I just...

She carried a deactivator, not a blaster. She defended herself even though she chose to carry a weapon only meant to neutralize. Her guards existed to neutralize threats. Not kill them.

What does it say about a person who thinks Satine deserved her fate because she refused to arm herself instead of looking at the person who murdered her? What does it say about yourself if you think a person deserves to die because they refused to arm themselves with a lethal weapon in the first place?

Excuse me???

Not to get political, but Death Watch and MAGA are basically the same. Spoiled brats who believed they should have inherited the throne based on blood rather than qualifications, and really mad to know they are in the minority of people who don't want peace.

A bunch of men repeatedly trying to kill the woman who has proven time and time again that hope is stronger than fear.

She proved that it's possible to live peacefully if people would learn to just stop fucking killing each other, and she is not wrong for choosing to give that small bit of comfort to the others who survived the Mandalorian civil war.

The people chose her because they trusted her to take care of them. And she did. For almost 20 years. She cared about what the people wanted and she chose to give them exactly that for as long as she could.

She didn't make them forget their history. She reminded them that they don't have to live the same way for the rest of their lives. It's okay to put down the weapons and it's okay to want peace. That's not a weakness at all. It takes strength maintain a light like that for as long as she did.

#satine kryze #clone wars #duchess satine #satine kryze defense #death watch mandalorians #you aren't stronger just because you have deadlier weapons #satine kryze proved that #hope is stronger than fear #love is stronger than hate #like wtf is up with hating characters who represent ideals we should be striving for anyway #she knew it wouldn't last forever but it didn't deter her or the new mandalorians from living that way as long as they could

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ofkryze · 9 months

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@inevitablehe: Satine ~doesn't respect Mandalore culture~ for misconception? and @spacebarb1e: misconception: satine comitted cultural genocide to mandalore. ( i am not kidding do not go into the tags PEOPLE SAY THIS )

since both of these fall under the same category, i'm combining them. buckle up kids this is going to be fun.

i'm going to preface this by saying i don't always agree with satine's stance of absolute pacifism. however, i respect her for her attempts at remaining truly neutral in the face of war.

what people do not take into account is that satine's point of view is shaped by the fact that her planet was destroyed due to centuries of war. she saw what war does to people and worlds. the new mandalorians were attempting to be more peaceful because the violence had taken too much from them. satine's father was killed during the civil war. the more "traditional" mandalorians sent bounty hunters after a teenage girl. the fact that even after all that, she held firm in her beliefs is amazing.

now, here we come to the "satine committed cultural genocide" portion of our night. she absolutely did not. yes, the traditionalists were exiled to concordia, but satine is shown to respect the fact that pre vizla is the governor of the moon. satine is shown speaking mando'a and offering comfort to the dying terrorist. she recognizes that his dialect is concordian.

outlawing the violent methods of the past does not mean she committed cultural genocide. the violent factions wanted to destroy peace because they didn't like it.

satine loves her people. she loves her world. she wants something better for them and sees that they are capable of more than violence.

#❀ ── ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀general ⠀ ❯ ⠀ meta #i tried to keep this from being an incoherent rant

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vanishedangels · 2 years

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Clan of Warriors

Click here for First chapter

Summary: While rebuilding Mandalore, Mand'alor Din Djarin is questioned by his people because of his beliefs and origins. In the dawn of a civil war, the council resolves that The Mand'alor must join in marriage with someone close to Bo-Katan Kryze. He's forced to marry Koska Reeves and accept a loveless union. In the meantime, Din is having a secret relationship with his son's Master, Jedi Luke Skywalker, his dream of having his own clan of warriors is about to fade away.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker

Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Leia Organa, Cara Dune, Koska Reeves, Bo-Katan Kryze, Axe Woves. OC. Peli Motto. Fennec Shand. Boba Fett, Paz Vizsla. Owen Lars. Beru Whitesun, Han Solo, Chewbacca, Wedge Antilles.

Rating: Explicit (+18)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence. Explicit Smut.

Tags: Canon Compliant, Post Season 2 Finale, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Friends To Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Demisexual Din Djarin, Top Luke Skywalker, Bottom Din Djarin, Top Din Djarin, Bottom Luke Skywalker, Protective Din Djarin, BAMF Luke Skywalker, Adorable Baby Yoda, Sassy Leia Organa, Gai Bal Manda, Blindfolds, Sub Din Undertones, Fantasies, Jealous Luke, Keldabe Kiss, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Praising, Frottage, Jealous Din.

Chapters: 23/?

Navigation: <- Previous Chapter • Next Chapter ->

Chapter 23: Homesickness

Din returned to his room feeling pain, he was missing Luke every minute more and more and this Miko man appeared before his eyes like a ghost haunting him, the ghost of Luke, he thought. He sat in silence on his couch, wanting to be on Yavin IV holding Grogu and holding his little Jedi. "There's only one Luke." He said under his breath. He fell asleep curling up on the couch in full beskar.

Grogu was sitting on Luke's lap, holding his silver ball between the little fingers of his two hands, staring at the sphere with fixed eyes, inches apart of his nose. Luke caressed his ear "You like it so much." He said resting the back of his head on the couch.

"Buir." Grogu said through the force.

"Right." Luke chuckled leaning forward now, "It's shiny like Buir."

"Buir coming back. Promised Grogu." The baby sent his thoughts to his Master.

"Yes, Grogu. He's coming back soon. If I know something about your father it's that he always keeps his promises." Luke turned his head to look through the window. The sky was blue. "He will be back..." He said with sadness in his eyes.

Koska found Din in the armoury, she's been looking for him the entire morning "Din! I finally see you, how are you?"

Din was carrying an amban phase-pulse blaster "I've been better." Koska frowned curling his lips up. "This is a disruptor sniper rifle, one of my favourites."

"What do you need that for?" She walked towards Din.

Din shook his head lightly "I don't... need it. Just missing the old days." Actually he was missing Grogu.

She nodded and chuckled "Well, I'm ready for our daily sparring, I missed that when you were off planet."

Din looked at her, she was smiling, tilting her head to the right. "I think that we don't need to do that anymore."

Her face changed, she looked confused "Din, you need more practice, you need to control that saber, to make it yours, truly yours."

"No."

"Come on, Din." She said loosely clasping his vambrace.

"I can't do it. It's wrong." He said, leaving the rifle on a shelf as he was walking away. Bo-Katan was standing by the doorway, she followed Din with her eyes when he passed by her side, then she looked at Koska arching one eyebrow with her arms crossed over her chest plate, Koska shrugged in response.

Din wouldn't spar with anyone again except Luke. "It's wrong." He said to Koska, and he really felt that way. To Din, spar with Luke was another form of sex, he would never cheat on his cyar'ika. Din has found the ultimate warrior in Luke and he was in love with him in every single way.

He was walking to his room to be alone and feel miserable when Paz and another mandalorian approached him. "Vod, I want you to meet one of your men."

Din sighed rolling his shoulders and rolling his eyes under his helmet "Alright."

"This is Miko, he's part of your royal guard. Miko, this is your Mand'alor." Paz moved his hand gesturing at Din. The mandalorian took off his helmet and Din froze at the sight. The kid, because he looked like a kid, was flipping his blonde hair, his face resembled Luke's, he had brown eyes though. His smile was wide and bright, the kid was radiant, but not as radiant as Luke, and he looked younger, much younger than the little Jedi.

"It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness." He bowed before Din. His smile reached his eyes, just as Luke's. Din shook his head. "I will give my life to protect you, Mand'alor. This is the way."

Din nodded, eyes wide open behind his visor, "This is the way..."

"This kid is a jem, vod. You wouldn't believe it, he looks young but he's skilled and the best of the royal guard. He will make us so proud." Paz snapped his head towards Miko "Alright kid, dismissed." The kid nodded and walked away. Paz looked Din up and down "You know, the kid reminds me of someone, but I can't put my finger on it, maybe you can help me."

"What are you doing?" Din was done.

"Come on, I'm helping you, vod." Din stared at him without saying a word, without making a move. "Hey, I got it last night, you can't have your kid's Master, but this boy... This boy you can have." He was jostling Din.

"You're insane. How old is he?"

"Twenty-one, twenty-two... it doesn't matter, he's legal. I promise."

Din turned around "Kriff off, Paz". He was furious.

"Hey, the kid asked to meet you, and then... imagine my surprise when I saw he was your type!" Type? What type? Din thought while he was walking into his room. He was closing the door and Paz held it with one hand resting his body against the door frame.

"Listen vod, the kid's interested, I can arrange it, just give me the order."

"I said kriff off!" Paz moved away from the door and Din slammed it shut behind him.

That night Din made it into the dinner area, he had never been there before. The room was huge and crowded, they all went silent when Din walked in.

"Take your seat, please, Mand'alor." Koska said from the other side of the room, Din walked towards her. He sat at the centre of the main table, he didn't accept any food, he just stayed there. Paz wasn't there, the children of the watch used to eat alone in the privacy of their bedrooms.

Din stared in every direction, searching. He found what he was looking for. The guard that looked like his Jedi. Miko was staring directly at his visor, with a grin on his face. Din avoided his gaze and moved his head to look at Koska who was sitting beside him.

He looked at his young guard every now and then, and every time the man was staring at him, always smiling, always warm and radiant and from that distance Din could fool himself, thinking that he was really staring at Luke.

Din spent the next week working with the council, relocating people and receiving updates from Shrune. It was curious but while he was on planet, protesters didn't show up and the streets were at peace. He was starting to think that it wasn't as serious as Paz made it look like. Maybe these people weren't a menace after all.

Some nights he kept exploring his body's sensations, trying to satisfy himself the way Luke satisfied him.

He was starting to feel more confident about his moves, his own touch. He managed to prolong his performance, he really wanted to give it all next time Luke and him were tangled in little Jedi's bed.

The Jedi was so sure of himself. Din on the other hand, had never been in a serious relationship, he was amused by the way he gave himself to Luke, more than once, especially since he could remove all the barriers between him and his lover, lying vulnerable and exposed next to Luke without the armour's protection. That protection was not only physical, but symbolic.

All of Din's sexual encounters had been one night stands. Except for his first girl, she was a foundling as well and kids were curious and restless back in the fighting corps.

She was eighteen, Din was seventeen, but he had been crushing on her since he was fourteen, they were seeing each other in secret, it lasted a couple of months till she favoured Paz over Din. The ambivalent relationship between Din and Paz began that day, still they were brothers, no matter what.

Din shut himself down until his twenties, things had gone downhill when he started hanging around with the wrong people.

Every time he hooked up with someone he found really attractive, men preferably, he felt miserable afterwards.

He used to handcuffed them, because he didn't trust them at all, even when they were naked and hard against him. He was always dressed, pants around his thighs plates and he only lifted his helmet just enough to expose his mouth in order to went down on someone.

Sex was rough and fast, without kissing, without cuddling and without deep connection. To Din it was just a way to relieve himself.

He became a lone wolf by the time he was in his early thirties, even when people were still hitting on him all the time, he didn't care at all, he wasn't interested in those fast encounters anymore. He was tired and embracing the fact that he would never feel love for someone, let alone being loved back by said person.

That lonely life changed when Din and Grogu became clan, as father and son. Little did he know his ad'ika would lead him into Luke's arms, and he was halfway now, knowing that he finally fell in love with someone and hoping that Luke eventually, someday, would love him back.

He woke up to the holocomm's flickering light, a message from chancellor Shrune:

"Greetings, Your Highness. As you already know, I'm still on Coruscant, negotiations are going well. Still, The Senate requires your presence, please, come as soon as you get this message. We'll be waiting for you."

Bo-Katan and Paz were pushing him into being scorted by his royal guard, Din argued with them, he wouldn't take any person with him, he had plans. "I'm The Mand'alor, do as I say. I'm going off planet alone, and that's final." He deadpanned.

Bo-Katan sighed staring at Paz and walked away. "Fine, Mand'alor, I hope you won't end up dead."

Din didn't hesitate, by breakfast time he was on The Mudhorn, alone, leaving Mandalore behind, knowing that he wasn't coming back any time soon.

#dinluke #dinluke fanfiction #din djarin #luke skywalker #clan of warriors fanfic #skydalorian

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mandalorianbrainweasel · 2 years

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Kettle of Shig (Chapter One Preview)

I’m going to try and get the next chapter done before I post this in full, but I figured I should show you all a bit of my new WIP.

Tag Preview:

Characters: Jango Fett’s Mother, Original Mandalorian Characters, Jaster Mereel, Tor Vizsla, Jango Fett’s Father, Arla Fett, Jango Fett

Abrieviated Tags: Dysfunctional Family, past Jaster Mereel/Tor Vizsla, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Adoption, Force Sensitive Mand’alore, Angst, Mandalorian Courting, Political Alliances, Falling in Love, Marriage Proposals, Weddings, Pregnancy, Babies, Children, Parenthood, Mandalorian Civil War, Canon Compliant,

And a bit from the first chapter, which involves everything up to Angst:

“Do you know when Tor gets back from the mine check?” Jaster asks. He looks out the window.

Sometimes Utrelsor wonders why Kori’buir didn’t let them court, why he adopted Jaster instead, but she knows more about politics than she should to let herself wonder too much. “You can do better than him,” she says instead of changing the subject or just telling him.

Jaster scowls and firmly doesn’t look at her. The tips of his ears go a little red. “I just—.”

“One day you’re going to find someone awesome,” she says with a sniff. “And I’m going to tell you ‘I told you so’ and make you get a dumb tattoo with whoever the guy’s name is, and he’ll be just as smart as you and a hell of a lot less prideful.”

“It’s not like that,” Jaster protests weakly. “We just have plans to spar tonight.”

“Ah hah.”

Her accent on that particular phrase breaks the tension, sending Jaster into frantic giggling that a man his size shouldn’t be able to produce. “Sometimes I do wonder if you like your ori’vod,” he admits after a moment.

“Of course I do.” She trusts Tor more than anyone with her worries, but right now she’s between boyfriends and doesn’t have any.

“So do you not like me?” he asks.

Utrelsor stares at him. She throws the stylus at him.

It bounces off his forehead and results in a look like a surprised gi.

“Of course I like you, di’kut. It feels like you always should have been here, most of the time. You’re my ori’vod too, so don’t forget it.”

Jaster smiles, but it’s really sad in comparison to earlier. She wonders, sometimes, about what he left behind on Concord Dawn.

She’d like to give his old boss a piece of her mind. And a few broken teeth.

Hmm, maybe she can convince her project for this season to be hunting down the aliit of the bastard Jaster got exiled for killing. They may be rich but they’re not as powerful as the Vizslas.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the door to the library swinging open. They both look over to find Tor, his intact beskar’gam still coated in mine dust, with a manic edge to his eyes but a big grin.

“Don’t breathe in too much dust, di’kut,” Utrelsor drawls.

“Yeah,” Jaster adds in a matching drawl.

The manic edge ebbs away and is replaced with a pout. “Stop ganging up on me.”

The two of them share a look, then look back at their vod. As one, they say, “Nayc.”

“You’re both horrible, you know that? Absolutely terrible, the worst siblings a man could ask for. I ought to tie you both by your feet from the announcement poll!”

“Tor,” Utrelsor says, smiling.

He shuts his mouth and gulps.

“What did you need that made you step into our calm, peaceful, quiet library while still covered in mine dust?”

“Oh.” Tor flushes. “Kori’buir wants to see us.”

Ah.

“Go change and have someone hose your beskar off,” Jaster says, taking charge. “We’ll make shig.”

#my fanfiction #fanfic preview #star wars legends #mandalorians #jaster mereel #tor vizsla #jango fett's mother #this will include Tor Vizsla's journey towards Death Watch #all the way up to the death of the TWO MAIN CHARACTERS #kazhan is an enabler #we're all on this rollarcoaster and the end is pain #canon compliant fic #kettle of shig

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allthingsroleplay · 4 days

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[ start guide | wanted | discord ]

A decade after the Battle of Endor, the destruction of the Second Death Star, and the death of Emperor Palpatine, the galaxy is still settling.

The Battle of Jakku might have brought the Civil War to an end, but conflict persists.

The New Republic has solidified itself as the new galactic government, but not without contest from the remnants of the former Empire and the covetous encroachment of the Outer Rim's deep underworld. The New Jedi Order rises, but so do the Sith, an eternal back-and-forth between light and dark keeping the balance of the Force ever tenuous. Meanwhile, the Mandalorians have succeeded in retaking their homeworld, but longstanding rivalries and suspicion carry on.

It’s the same old galaxy, but a whole new world.

VAGABOND CODE is an 18+ AU Star Wars jcink premium roleplay going strong over three years now, and we would love new members to join and contribute to the next chapters of the story. Drop into our Discord and say, Hello there!

#premium jcink #advertisement #public site #other scfi rpg #based on rpg

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anoldstoryteller · 1 year

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43 BBY Making Contact with the Druulgotha system part six

I crawled out of bed and went to the other room before opening up comms. Shei Wei's angelic form appeared in the holo, "Good morning Kal'ika. What do I owe the pleasure?" I greeted her in turn before explaining what has transpired in the Thesme System. As I finished my story, Shei Wei face remained unchanged, "Well, you certainly have been busy. Allow me to bring Xan'rra here. She is more knowledgeable about the history of our people." She got up and exited the holo projector. It was a few minutes later before Xan'rra appeared, "Mand'alor, Alor Wei had informed me of the situation. I'll have to go through the records we have to confirm, but I'm certain it will only coincide with what you have said." I rolled my eyes. I didn't call to confirm about history, "But what about me being declared Mand'alor? They aren't really Mandalorian but they at least roughly follow the Resol'nare. So I'm asking what does it mean?" Xan'rra looked at Shei Wei and I could only describe it as an insane smile, "Alor….you didn't mention this." Whatever Shei Wei said wasn't picked up on the projector. Xan'rra looked back to me with a serious face, "Mand'alor…do you know why I call you this for all these years?" I shook my head. She continued, "As you know I have the ability to see the future, but not clearly. However, the clearest vision I've ever had occurred when Alor Wei brought you to us all those years ago. I saw you bringing all Mandalorians together and saving us from darkness with a massive army in tow. If these…. Druulgothans deem you Mand'alor, then I say accept it. Mandalore is now currently being ruled by a spineless pacifist. The true Mandalorians clans are scattered after the Civil War. There is no one to oppose you if you wish to claim the title." I was shocked. I just assumed it was something on a whim. Could I truly be Mand'alor? I sat there in silence for a while, "Alright Xan'rra. Assuming I wanted to accept the role, shouldn't Shei Wei be Mand'alor since she is the clan leader? And would the rest of the clan even accept my claim?" Xan'rra simply smiled, "We have been waiting for you to claim the title for all these years. Clan Breeder has already acknowledged you as Mand'alor." I told her I needed time to think about it and ended the call. I rubbed my hands in my face before getting up. Tali was standing in the doorway, I didn't hear her approach, "I thought you would still be asleep?" I said as I walked over. She wrapped her arms around my neck, "I could sense that you left and came to find you, but you were on a call. I'm sorry but I overheard your conversation….what do you plan on doing?" I walked over to the couch and sat down. "Ugh I don't even know. I mean I'm only nineteen. Can I really be Mand'alor?" I said it more to myself but Tali walked over and grabbed my hands, "Love. I may not know much about your history or culture when compared to Alephi, but I don't see a reason why not. You are courageous, honorable, and if I may say, very dashing. You stormed into battle head on and without fear. You have shown that you can lead both small and large groups and even get the allegiance of a hostile race. I don't think age should matter, rather whether or not you are worthy of the title." I gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Thank you Tali. I'm going to sleep on it and decide when I wake up what I'm going to do." We stood up and made our way back to bed. I wasn't certain if I should be Mand'alor or not, but I know of someone who might help me with making that decision.

#The Torka Saga

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clanaurvandill · 2 years

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❝ When the last living thing in the universe finally dies, I will enjoy peace and wait for the cycle to begin again. ❞

It had been far too long. Each year an agonizing breath in and out, a continuation of a dream that would never end for him - sometimes even a nightmare. Yet he placed one foot in front of the other, regardless of the pain of watching those around him wither and die to old age.

One should not outlive their children. One should not hold their old and frail bodies within their arms, whispering to them about how proud they are. One should not watch Empires rise and fall, crumble to dust only for something new to take its place. One should not know the eternal struggle of the universe aging around them while they are stuck as they are...

Aikein Doljinti had. He had outlived his children. He had held their bodies within his arms, whispering sweet words to them as he tried to hold back his tears. He had watched as Empire and Republic had risen, had fallen, only for another to take its place. He knew the struggle of the universe around him aging while he was stuck as he was... unable to age and die.

It was a fate he would wish upon no one. And yet... he had cursed his lifemate Ahroun to be there right beside him, standing there and watching the universe pass them by, age upon age, year upon year, alliance upon alliance.

Aikein had witnessed the rise and fall of Revan... twice. He had been there to watch the Sith infight with one another. He was there to hear the decree of Darth Bane and his “rule of two”. He had been there to fight alongside the brave men many called Clones. He had agonizingly been there when they had turned upon he and Ahroun - Jedi at the time. He had watched as the Mandalorians entered Civil War before being mostly eradicated by the Galactic Empire.

He had seen much and experienced an overabundance. And through it all, he had been stalwart. He had placed one foot in front of the other, moving forward. But each step held a weight, and each foot gained more with each step.

So as he sat there - Ahroun wrapped around him - overlooking the jungles of Dromund Kaas from one of the libraries of his manor, he couldn’t help but murmur it out. “I... am tired, Ahroun... So very tired...”

“I know, my love,” was the reply Ahroun gave, lips coming down to kiss the top of Aikein’s head. “I know...”

The sigh that left the ancient Sith’s lips at that point was full of resignation, resignation that he knew Ahroun felt as well. “When the last living thing in the universe finally dies, I will enjoy peace and wait for the cycle to begin again...” He then was tilting his head back, stark white eyes boring into Ahroun then, as they always did, “And you shall be right there beside me. As you always have...”

“That I shall,” Ahroun smiled softly to him. “You will not have to go through this alone. We shall always have one another... And maybe... just maybe...” He leaned down slightly to kiss Aikein upon the lips, savoring the taste that still filled him with such joy all these years later. “We shall see our family and friends once more... Hmm?”

“The Force does work in mysterious ways...” Was the response from Aikein, his eyes sliding closed before he was nodding towards the jungles. “Shall we sit and bask a little longer? Or shall we start our hunt already?”

“I am sure we have given them enough of a head start, do you not agree?” It was chuckled from the Pureblood, and he watched as Aikein stood and stretched himself languidly.

“Agreed. Now come. Let us not keep our prey waiting!”

#oc:aikein doljinti #oc:ahroun

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captainkirkk · 3 years

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

isn't this the vision that you wanted by nebulastucky

Firelord Zuko - ender of the Hundred Year War, ruler of the Fire Nation, payer of respects and reparations - takes advice and counsel from representatives of every nation, division, and specialty.

But teenage boy Zuko - friend of turtleducks, wielder of fun looking swords, stumbler over words and feet in the presence of cute boys - only listens to two people, and they are conspiring together to ruin him.

or: Iroh just wants what's best for his nephew, and Katara just wants to know everyone's business.

Umbrella Academy

no greater pain (than loving someone who will never love you) by Ford_Ye_Fiji

Five has Hanahaki.

He pushes through anyway.

His siblings don’t notice (until they do).

lies of omission by envysparkler

Ivy’s designed a new serum, and chooses Red Robin as her test subject.

SVSSS

Scum Villain's Accidental Romance System by BurnerAccount

Shen Qingqiu has accepted that yes, this is a novel. And yes, it is going to have stupid plot points that he can (probably) do nothing about. His inevitable, horrible fate is his most probable future - but hey, it's at least a ways off yet, right?

A Stallion novel has stupid tropes, but he's 100% - no, 1000% sure, that these aren't in the standard package.

A-Yuan has At Least Three Friends by wenqing (maniafic)

Xiao Jiu wakes up disoriented, surrounded by strangers, and he desperately misses the nice dream where his name was Shen Yuan.

who is this face I hide by technorat

When Shen Qingqiu is presented with an artifact that shows the happiest moment in a person's life, he reverts to the childish form of Xiao Jiu.

Or, the very bad, no good day of one tiny Peak Lord.

Clone Wars

you hit what you head for by notquiteaghost

Part 2 of love is like falling

Cody stares at the message for a long moment. He commed Fox because Obi-Wan's unconscious, Wolffe's shit at words, and Rex has his hands full with Tano. He commed Fox because he can say fucking anything to Fox, and he couldn't even collect their dead, and one of these days he is going to snap.

He's got no idea if voicing half the shit chasing itself round his head will help, but his alternative is punching a few more holes in the wall, and he has to work out if Obi-Wan'll feel that before he does it again.

Star Wars

Breaking in a New Normal by ShyOwl

In which Luke is Mandalorian bait and Din is thirsting.

And he is not the only one.

How To Design Your Own Prosthesis And Turn The Project Into A Bonding Experience by Jackdaw_Kraai

Part 3 of Civil Wars, Whistleblower Tactics, Schematic Drafting, And The Finer Points Of Sith Adoption: The Essential How-To Guide For The Engineering Jedi

We rejoin our favorite Engineer three days after our adventure on Imperial Center, caught up on the backlog of work and ready to continue his crusade to improve the tech aboard the Lady one piece at a time.

A dire accident puts a halt to that plan, and before the dust has even settled, Luke is rushed to medical under dire circumstances, Darth Vader is besides himself with worry, and Firmus Piett never asked for any of this. Unfortunately, the later two will have to make quick work of the investigation, as shadowy entities creep closer with dark designs, revealing that the accident may not have been that accidental.

#i wanted to have this up before the weekend #but i got my second covid jab and it knocked me on my ass for a while #sorry y'all #my posts #weekly fic round up #dc recs #atla recs #svsss recs #tua recs #sw recs #fic recs

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generalobi · 3 years

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So I know you like just continued this, but I'm addicted to your Medlida/Daan story. Totally at your own pace, I would love to see more interactions between Obi-Wan & Jango & Jaster's possible arrival. Your writing is absolutely brilliant and I love how you wrote the Mandalorians reacting to these children forced to grow up so quick. Fantastic job.

Nield doesn’t look happy that Obi-Wan is giving them another lecture on Mandlorian culture. It’s not like Obi-Wan wants to be teaching a group of twelve teenagers a history he only half understands. Sometimes, the Force works in mysterious ways.

“The Manda’lor is usually a successive position,” Obi-Wan taps the word he’s scrawled on the wall, “Handed down either from parent to child, or from Manda’lor to a chosen successor. Te Sol'yc Mand'alor, or Mandalore the First in Basic, was supposedly the one who conquered Mandalore and exterminated the mythosaurs. The Manda’lor leads the clans, each clan has their own clan leader.”

Herti frowns, “Usually successive?”

“Uh, yes. Jaster Mereel, the current Manda’lor, was chosen by his faction as their Manda’lor and given the official title when the Haat’Mando’ade, the True Mandlorians, won the civil war. He’s elected his son, Jango Fett as his successor. I’m pretty sure I told you all this last time.”

Daria rolls her eyes, “We’re a Council of twelve equal leaders, idiot, most us weren’t listening to a word you said last time. You and I are the only ones who needed to know. Wait, did we ever tell them we were the planetary leaders?”

“That was in the original missive I sent them,” he says, exasperated, “Whether they realised exactly what that meant or not, I don’t know. Anyway, carrying on. Jaster Mereel has been Manda’lor for twenty years, officially for seven.”

“So about the same time we’ve been leaders?” Nield observes thoughtfully, “Remind me why he’s somehow more qualified than us?”

Obi-Wan resists the urge to scream, “Because, he was a leader for thirteen years before he was officially Manda’lor. Like I just said. He’s been Manda’lor for as long as I’ve been alive. We’re plenty qualified, but that doesn’t mean that we always were. We were just children, Nield. You know that as well as I do.”

“Obi-Wan is right,” Mal says, “Now, shut up and let him teach us history so we can keep our nice new trade deal.”

Jango finds that the full MelidaDaan Council is a lot more impressive than he was expecting. Facing twelve battle-hardened veterans is intimidating, even if none of them are older than twenty-one. He imagines even his buir is feeling it.

“It is an honour to meet you, Manda’lor,” the oldest one bows stiffly, “I am Minister Nield. We are pleased to welcome you to our city.”

His buir bows back, “The honour is mine, Minister Nield. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Indeed,” another Minister inclines their head, “We understand you have some questions about our history. We would be more than happy to answer them over dinner, if you’d follow us?”

They’re lead into the same large hall Jango and Myles had been given their first meal in. This time, it’s just the Mandalorian delegation and the Council.

Jango finds himself seated across from Minister Kenobi. The polite smile on his face is a far cry from the genuine joy Jango had seen when he was surrounded by children. That joy… that laugh. He found that he wants to be the one who makes him laugh like that. Maybe, after they’ve got their answers and are no longer in the middle of a negotiation, he can try.

Food is brought in, all of the servers clearly of age. Maybe as a statement, maybe not avoid making anyone uncomfortable.

Jango’s buir has never cared for niceties, or stood on formality. Sometimes, he wonders if Jaster prefers his political opponents and allies uncomfortable.

“So,” his buir says, “We have questions. The first is, do you use child soldiers? Because Mandalorians do not stand for the abuse of children, no matter the reason.”

Minister Kenobi hums thoughtfully, “That is a more complicated question that you know. As you have probably noticed, there are very few adults among us.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

A girl with short cropped hair raises an eyebrow, “It’s not. Not here, not for us. Your children come of age at eighteen in war time, yes? My name is Jyfn, I was ten when we retook our planet. My parents did not want peace, so I ran away and joined the Young. We are all members of the Young. The Elders bombed and killed each other for hundreds of years, and the few left by the end were killed in the final battle, imprisoned for the crimes they committed or exiled themselves to the farmlands.”

A boy with scarred eyes continues, “The Elders blinded me. We were all child soldiers. We do not want to make the children fight, but many of us are children ourselves. Nield is the oldest, he is twenty-two this year. How do we define what an adult is, what a child is? We fought a war when we were nothing but babies ourselves.”

“Children younger than ten don’t work,” Minister Kenobi says, “Children younger than thirteen don’t learn to fight. Ten is how old our youngest Council members were when we won the war, and thirteen is how old I was. As we grow older, as our population grows, the ages will no doubt change. But, by your definition, we do have children soldiers. Some of this Council are child soldiers. I understand your discomfort, Manda’lor, however we cannot overcome our past in isolation from the galaxy.”

“I see,” Jaster scans the assembled Council, “Well, this food is very good.”

It’s late, later than is acceptable to be wandering around. But Jango can’t sleep. Myles and his buir are still talking, trying to find more information without asking the Council to relive more of a traumatic past.

He’s hopelessly lost when he stumbles about Minister Kenobi. He’s sitting on a balcony, gaze on the cloudless sky. Jango debates just leaving him to it, but they might as well both not sleep together.

“Hello, Prince Fett,” he greets, without looking, “Can I help you?”

“I can’t sleep, and it seems you can’t either.”

He shrugs, “Oh you know, old memories and the usual insomnia. What about you?”

“Mostly horror,” Jango settles next to him, “We have a word for your Elders on Mandalore.”

“I know,” he smiles slightly, “Demagolka, right? The description certainly fits the Elders, though they never experimented on us. At least not overtly. They settled on lesser war crimes.”

“Like the murder of children?”

“Maybe not that lesser.”

Jango looks at Minister Kenobi’s moonlit figure. The sharp lines of his silhouette stark against the dark blue sky. He looks older and wearier in the strange half-light of the night. The subject of his stories to the children rises up in his mind. He spoke of Coruscant and Shili and Alderaan. With a civil war like the one here, there’s little chance he would’ve had the opportunity to visit them.

“Were your parents Elders, like the others?” Jango asks cautiously, wary of the answer.

Minister Kenobi doesn’t look at him, “No, at least not to my knowledge. I believe they were from Stewjon, and that they’re Stewjoni. I didn’t grow up with them.”

“Where did you grow up? And how did you end up here?”

“I think that is a story for another time,” he stands, “I must bid you goodnight, Prince Fett. Tomorrow is another busy day.”

“Goodnight, Minister Kenobi.”

He watches as the man slips back inside the Fortress, feet soundless on the tiles and a suspicion forming in his mind.

#foriegnminsterwan #ministerwan #jango fett #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi-wan kenobi needs a hug #jangobi #melida/daan #nield #this installment we actually see some jangobi #Jaster Mereel #confused mandalorians #mandalorians #mentions of child soldiers #i think this is a 1000 words #so go me #i have a chemistry exam tomorrow so #this is my avoidance

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captainsway · 3 years

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Satine Kryze, the New Mandalorians, and Fandom Misconception of Mandalorian Culture

If you’re a fan of Mandalorians and like to read fanfiction, you’ve probably read at some point that the New Mandalorians have committed ‘cultural genocide’. That Satine Kryze is a fanatic who is doing everything she can to destroy Mandalorian culture and that she has a watered down version of what it means to be a Mandalorian. And I’m here to tell you that this simply isn’t true.

This is going to be a long read. I will go into the history of Mandalore, what it means to be Mandalorian, as well as how it relates to our own history, so please, buckle in. Also, I will state that there are spoilers for The Clone Wars and season 2 of The Mandalorian.

Most of what we know about Mandalorians is from Karen Traviss and her Mandalorian books - she wrote many books about Boba Fett and even about a lot of clone troopers during and after the war. She’s also well known for starting the creation of Mando’a, the spoken Mandalorian language. However, Karen Traviss is also well known for hating the New Mandalorians and even the Jedi. She has (TW here) equated Jedi ‘apologists’ to slave owners and N*zis. She has been a big name for Star Wars for going into Mandalorian history and culture, however, she has a lot of discourse surrounding her and how she interacts with fans including the fact that she apparently doesn’t even read other Star Wars books that aren’t her own. A lot of people have seemed to have taken her rhetoric about Jedi and Mandalorians as fact, even though she is one author and has written from an extremely biased position of refusing to understand Jedi beliefs and the fact Palpatine, the Separatists, and the Senate were to blame for a lot of what happened in the clone wars. The Jedi were conscripted and refusing to understand that is what leads to ‘Jedi were slave owners’ rhetoric. However, that is a completely different conversation and not relevant to this post about Mandalore.

A lot of Mandalorian culture is from the Legends books. They have a long standing history of war, conquering, and allying themselves with the Sith. They started out as a group from Coruscant called the Taungs who were driven out by the native humans and became nomadic until conquering the planet they called Mandalore after their warlord. They continued their Mandalorian empire until the Sith wars and the Mandalorian wars, the latter of which was the time of Revan and the KOTOR games. I personally haven’t played KOTOR and don’t know enough about that point in Mandalorian history, but I do know that there were many wars, genocides, and violence. It was after the planet Mandalore was devastated by the Jedi Order and the Republic and turned into a barren desert that couldn’t sustain life, that the cultures began to shift and the major factions known as the True Mandalorians, Death Watch, and the New Mandalorians came to be.

(Mandalore after the Mandalorian Excision at the hands of the Republic (Legends) or their own civil wars (TCW). The Mandalorians used biodomes to sustain life on the planet.)

According to Wookiepedia from the Legends (ie, not canon) era, the Republic established a government, but the New Mandalorians were a break off of that. They didn’t follow the Republic nor did they love it, but they did believe in non-violence and peace. They followed the Kryze family who maintained the Duchy in Sundari on the planet Mandalore. Sundari was the capitol alongside Keldabe, the former being for the New Mandalorians while Keldabe was for the planet Mandalore. Many people had left the planet after the devastation to more lush planets or moons, such as Concord Dawn. Satine Kryze herself was from Kalevala, another toxic desert planet in the Mandalorian sector who relocated to Sundari. She was born to a warrior clan and grew up in the culture, but wished to move past that for peace. There was another person from Kalevala who maintained the royalty and also became a senator for the Republic, but he mostly represented the planet itself.

Again, a lot of this history and the ‘New Mandalorians stemming from the Republic installed government’ is from Legends; some of which Karen Traviss wrote, some of which is written from Boba Fett’s perspective (for example, calling the New Mandalorians ‘Faithless’ was from The Bounty Hunter Code and written from the perspective of Boba Fett. This should be taken with a grain of salt from an unreliable narrator viewpoint.) The Clone Wars show, which is where the New Mandalorians first physically appeared, states that they formed after the civil war to rebuild Mandalore, without interference from the Republic. Any violent Mandalorians were exiled to Concordia except the Protectors who were sworn to protect the Concord Dawn system. How anti-Mandalorian can Satine truly be if the Protectors swore to also protect her and the New Mandalorians? Also, any Mandalorian was free to leave Concordia as ‘Old Mandalorians’, but they had no desire for revenge because there was no reason to do so. They were free to maintain their beliefs and practices as long as it wasn’t on the planet Mandalore where the New Mandalorians kept their main city.

There’s a severe misconception as to what it means to be Mandalorian. I’ve heard arguments that you must follow the Resol’nare, the Six Actions, in order to be Mandalorian. However, I argue that there are many ways to be Mandalorian, that it’s a difference with species/race/ethnicity, religion, and culture. You can be born into Mandalorian space and be Mandalorian. You can follow a specific culture or creed and be Mandalorian. You can be adopted by a Mandalorian and raised by then and be Mandalorian. Just as there’s no one way to be a certain ethnicity or race in our world, there’s no one true way to be a Mandalorian. Jango Fett was born on Concord Dawn, in Mandalorian space. His parents were farmers. Even if he never was adopted by Jaster Mereel and became the Mand’alor of the True Mandalorians, he still would’ve been Mandalorian, just like his family. We’ve all heard the phrase ‘no true Scotsman’ and I believe it applies to Mandalorians as well.

However, let’s go with the argument that the Resol’nare makes someone a Mandalorian. The argument is that Satine Kryze doesn’t follow this and that is what makes her an agent of cultural genocide. The Resol’nare states:

Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader.

Reminder that the Resol’nare was created by Karen Traviss, who we spoke about earlier. Also, the Wookiepedia Legends page for the New Mandalorians states that they’ve broken from the Resol’nare (again, thank you Traviss), but it’s more that they don’t follow a Mand’alor, rather than none of the actions. Let’s break this down and see how Satine Kryze does follow the Resol’nare.

The first one is easy: Education. In one of the episodes of The Clone Wars, it focused on the school in Sundari:

Satine’s own nephew, Korkie Kryze, attended and the main focus was to raise new leaders for Mandalore. The entire episode revolved around the students and Ahsoka Tano uncovering a corruption plot to destabilise the New Mandalorians by Almec, who later joined forces with Death Watch. Also, one of the forefronts of the New Mandalorians is technological advancement. They put their studies and trade into engineering and technology as well as transportation (Legends, established by Traviss).

The second, armour. This is a sticking point for a lot of anti-New Mandalorian fans who believe that Satine Kryze makes Mandalorians give up their armour.

This is a picture of Satine Kryze, Prime Minister Almec, as well as Korkie Kryze in the background. Look at the two people in the middle. See what they’re wearing? These are Mandalorian Royal Guards and they wear armour. New Mandalorians literally had a police unit called the Mandalorian Guards who wore armour, so this is kind of a moot point, showing fanon they are wrong about this. A lot of the Royal Guards were made from the afore mentioned Mandalorian Protectors.

Just because many New Mandalorians chose not to wear armour, doesn’t mean they were not allowed to wear it. One could try and argue that only the police and guards are allowed to wear armour, but the fact of the matter is: there’s still armour for the New Mandalorians. Also, interesting note but all the cadets from The Academy had the Iron Heart, which is a symbol more commonly seen on Mandalorian armour. I think it’s safe to say that is an easy adaption of the culture.

Also in that vein is the ‘self defence’ idea. There’s a lot of belief that the New Mandalorians have no means of defending themselves, that they shun every form of violence. As I’ve just shown, that’s clearly false. They use batons, stun guns, and even hand to hand combat in order to defend themselves. The Royal Guard used force staffs in order to deflect blaster fire, very similar to how the Jedi use their sabers. Even Satine Kryze has used non-lethal weapons of her own:

In the episode mentioned before, The Academy, it is shown that you don’t need guns or lightsabers to defeat your enemies and protect others. Ahsoka didn’t have her lightsaber and yet her and the cadets (including Korkie Kryze) managed to save Satine and uncover the criminal black market on Mandalore. People like to say that New Mandalorians’ creed of ‘no lethal weapons’ means they’re defenceless or ‘erasing culture’, but we’ll get into why this is a misconception with even deeper concerns later.

‘Our tribe’ is easy. The New Mandalorians follow a specific creed of non-violence and they follow that in deference to Satine Kryze, who we can even claim is ‘our leader’ as well. Each creed follows their own leader: the True Mandalorians followed Jaster Mereel and later Jango Fett, Death Watch followed Tor and Pre Vizsla, and the New Mandalorians followed Satine Kryze. All three can claim tribe and leader.

As for ‘our language’, as mentioned, Karen Traviss had originated the spoken language. Mando’a is rarely spoken in the animated series and is more shown in writing. The written language has been sparked once more by season 2 of The Mandalorian. A lot of fanon claims that Satine Kryze erases the language of Mandalore and forces Mandalorians to stop reading or speaking it, a very common cultural genocide against indigenous people. However, this is also false. It’s shown that there’s written forms in several of The Clone Wars episodes, and Satine Kryze herself even speaks it to a Death Watch bomber, click this link for proof and the translations. The written form was actually made by Philip Metschan when asked by George Lucas for Jango Fett, thus there was very little translation into actual Mando’a and why it’s a fan theory that there’s different dialects of it.

(New Mandalorian console from The Academy with written Mando’a.)

Thus, we can safely say that the New Mandalorians do follow a lot of Mandalorian culture that fans say they do not. I’ve also seen many fans say that ‘weapons is their religion’, quoting Din Djarin from The Mandalorian from season 1. However, in season 2, Din is questioning his beliefs as he meets more and more Mandalorians and finding he’s not one of the few remaining. It’s a fascinating study into diaspora and finding one’s culture, but it appears that some people are not also following along. Din has left behind many things he thought were truly Mandalorian - he’s left his people, he’s lost his home, and he’s even removed his helmet in front of others for the love of his child. After he met Bo-Katan Kryze (Satine’s sister who joined Death Watch), he’s been questioning his beliefs and what his place is in the galaxy. We’re finding he’s from a specific zealous sect of Mandalorians, but that doesn’t make him less Mandalorian. He was a foundling (we don’t know if he’s from Mandalorian space), and he’s taken in his own foundling. Mandalorian fans like to say that love of children makes a Mandalorian, so why must weapons and war make one and not love and peace? Mandalorians can love their children and tribe and still be Mandalorian. Weapons and war is what leads to cultural death and that is what the New Mandalorians are trying to prevent.

It’s a bit concerning that this fanon has been so pervasive throughout fandom. It may have originated with Karen Traviss or not, but it has been stated in many fanfic that Satine Kryze is committing ‘cultural genocide’ and has a ‘watered down version’ of Mandalorian culture. It’s so pervasive that people actually believe that Death Watch is better than the New Mandalorians. Death Watch came to be because of the True Mandalorians in Legends and the Mandalorian civil war in canon. In Legends and new canon (via The Mandalorian), Jaster Mereel made the Supercommando Codex, outlining a new structure for Mandalorians to also move past wars. He believed that Mandalorians should become bounty hunters and soldiers for hire instead of fighting amongst themselves. Tor Vizsla took offence to this and created Death Watch who believed in Mandalorian superiority. They wanted to go back to the Mandalorian empire and stoke war amongst the sector. Death Watch repeatedly worked to destabilise the New Mandalorian rule, to the point where Pre Vizsla, Tor Vizsla’s son, was the governor of Concordia, pretending to be an ally to Satine Kryze while he was secretly working with Dooku and the Separatists.

Death Watch committed many atrocities and acts of terrorism. They bombed civilians at a memorial for peace, and after Vizsla was ousted as governor of Concordia for being the Death Watch leader, one of his first acts was to enslave the women of the Ming Po tribe from the planet Carlac. When the men tried to save them and make Death Watch go away, Vizsla ordered the women dead and the town destroyed.

(Satine and Obi-wan witnessing Death Watch’s terrorist bombing.)

(The Ming Po people, who are obviously Asian coded.)

Their entire group of people were based on Asian cultures and it’s uncomfortable as an Asian to see people redeem or idolise Pre Vizsla and Death Watch. He committed mass murder genocide against them after enslaving and terrorising them.

(Carlac, where the Ming Po tribe lived. Note the building structures, the gate which resembles a Japanese torii, and the trees which resemble cherry blossom trees.)

Pre Vizsla and his fanaticism with Death Watch is what directly led to the destabilisation of Mandalore. He teamed with Darth Maul to lead a coup against Satine Kryze and an army to Sundari which led to Satine’s and Pre’s own death. Maul installed Almec as Prime Minister and Mandalore was under civil war once again. This continued until Rebels when Bo-Katan Kryze was given the dark saber by Sabine Wren and she became Mand’alor; unfortunately, the Empire destabilised Mandalore again and that’s what led to the events in The Mandalorian show. Fanon continuously believing that the New Mandalorians’ bids for peace led to cultural genocide is what leads to believing actual genocide is better. Even if people understand Death Watch is bad, there’s a false equivalence saying ‘New Mandalorians and Death Watch are just as bad’ which, again, we’ll get into later.

(Obi-Wan Kenobi arriving on Sundari to save Satine Kryze during the coup.)

Another claim against the cultural genocide argument is the fact that Satine and the New Mandalorians kept artwork of Mandalore’s violent history. They are in no way erasing their past, but instead keeping it as a reminder of what they need to move past.

Murals of Mandalorians killing Jedi and other people. The second is in the Sundari palace where Satine resides. People like to claim this is hypocritical, but it’s meant to show that they are not forgetting their past. That peace is what they must aim for lest they go back to their violent ways.

I have also seen people say that the New Mandalorians are ‘white supremacist’ and that has coloured their beliefs of them. I agree that I recoiled in disgust when I saw the shot of the lackluster New Mandalorians in their full white, blond hair, blue eyed glory. However, that is an animation choice and not the fault of the actual New Mandalorians. Most Death Watch people who are shown are also white with blond hair and blue eyes. In fact, Satine was a politician who often hosted several non-human species and negotiated with them.

(Scenes from TCW episode ‘The Voyage of Temptation’ with Satine Kryze and Obi-wan Kenobi with aliens and humans of various colour and shape. In this episode, Death Watch attacked the ship.)

You do know who did have a problem with aliens? Death Watch. From The Bounty Hunter’s Code, written in part by Jason Fry, there is this:

(Picture taken from the book by a user on discord. Thank you again!)

It states that Mandalorians in Death Watch must have ‘human faces’ and that non humans are ‘outsiders’ and ‘beast species’. Very reminiscent of anti-immigration views and general racism against black and brown people. And yet, there is a general belief that Death Watch is not racist because of the Wren family from Rebels where Sabine Wren is a clear person of colour. Hopefully, readers can tell what an allegory is at this point.

A problem I believe is that there’s a severe lack of understanding on what cultural genocide truly means. It’s defined as ‘acts and measures undertaken to destroy nations' or ethnic groups' culture through spiritual, national, and cultural destruction.’ As proven, Satine and the New Mandalorians have their own beliefs, but they do not destroy their history; instead they adapt them to what they believe the future is aiming for. They do not suppress nor destroy language, or artwork, or historical propaganda. They cannot be colonisers as they live on Mandalore themselves. They exile people, yes, but the people on Concordia had representation who Satine listened to and trusted before he was revealed to be a terrorist. The Mandalore system is big with multiple planets and habitable moons, and Old Mandalorians were free to build their lives anywhere in the system or galaxy, as long as it wasn’t on the planet Mandalore near the New Mandalorians.

Going back to the ‘Republic installed the New Mandalorians’ take, it is canon that Satine Kryze and the New Mandalorians resisted the Republic’s attempts to install a military occupation in Mandalorian space. Vizsla committed terrorist acts and attempted assassinations to murder Satine and he was backed by the CIS to create disorder on Mandalore. Joining the Republic at least peripherally had allowed the New Mandalorians to maintain trade and peace for their people, but when war came, they stuck to their beliefs and created a neutral system. In fact, the Republic cutting off trade, food, and supplies was essentially attempting to blackmail the New Mandalorians to participate in a war. Also, sending the Jedi isn’t a sign of Republic approval; even in The Phantom Menace, the Republic wouldn’t do anything for Naboo and Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi were only sent as a favour to the then Chancellor Vallorum to investigate what was going on. The Jedi served the galaxy, even if their allegiance and oath was to the Republic, and that includes Mandalorian space.

(Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi protecting Satine Kryze.)

I do understand why it’s awful to see a group of white people with the same model types to preach about peace and non-violence, especially when the only other known Mandalorian at the time is a brown man. However, that I will fully put on Dave Filoni’s shoulders as he wanted to make the Mandalorians closer to Nordic Vikings (something I believe was mentioned to him by Lucas). The Mandalorians may have been inspired and influenced by other cultures, but for The Clone Wars, it reminds me of and reflects the current state of USA. The USA has a long history of wars, genocide, and violence. It started with white colonists killing and enslaving indigenous people and black people and has continued to be the leader in military and police funding in the world. And yet, whenever people wish to progress past that (for example, enact gun safety laws, defund the military and the police, enact healthcare, remove racist symbols), there are people who claim that they’re trying to ‘take American history away’ or ‘take our rights away’, etc. It’s what has lead to the state the country is in now.

I find it highly disturbing that fandom is hating on New Mandalorians and claiming it’s cultural genocide. It equates to modern times and how people like to claim that ‘liberals’ are trying to ‘take America’s guns’ because we’re tired of war, police brutality, and school shootings. Because we want laws to remove guns from safe spaces and make it harder to obtain weapons. This isn’t cultural genocide. This is progression of society. On January 6th, 2021, we saw an attempted coup where right wingers stormed the American capitol, live fire was shot and a woman killed, where they were actively looking for Democratic congress people to hold them hostage and possibly kill them. I maintain that fiction reflects reality and this is true in this case. The New Mandalorians wish for peace and do not wish for violent weapons in their space and enact laws to do that. However, the galaxy is bigger than America and Old Mandalorians can go anywhere else in the galaxy or even the Mandalorian system. Several countries have enacted anti-gun laws and prevent weapons from being in the hands of violent people. We have labelled white supremacists as domestic terrorists and remove statues of names of slave owners and other awful historical people. I ask you this: how is what the New Mandalorians doing any different? If it’s because you believe the propaganda from Traviss (and Jason Fry, don’t think I don’t see you), then you need to reevaluate your source. It is not a bad thing to see violence and wish to move past that and instead focus your resources to innovation, humanitarian efforts, and, yes, pacifism.

I mentioned earlier that people like to equate Death Watch and the New Mandalorians. It’s generally like how people say ‘Antifa is just the same as fascism’. In fact, I saw a comment on a fic that generally says something similar:

Name removed and the fic will not be mentioned, but it equates the New Mandalorians and Death Watch to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and her other POC congresspeople who wish to help people, and literal terrorists. Honestly, there’s a lot to unpack from this singular comment and I’m not sure I have the energy to do so. Death Watch isn’t like ‘Islamic’ terrorists. They’re like the white supremacist terrorists we see in the USA who planted bombs around various political buildings because they wanted violence against the Democratic party. This comment is just shitty victim blaming and promotion of violence. Pacifism isn’t ‘dangerous’. It isn’t ‘suicide’. It’s an ideal we should actively strive for.

I’m tired of seeing writers and fans say that the New Mandalorians commit cultural genocide. I’m tired of the misunderstanding and the attack on pacifism and the refusal to believe that peace is an option. It may not be feasible in the universe of Star Wars, but in that case, it’s not feasible for the USA and our own long history of war and we might as well give up. I ask that you at least do some research on the New Mandalorians before writing them and if you refuse to do so, then at least tag your fic as AUs and not actual canon fact. It’s the same with the Jedi and the propaganda that is passed along for them; you’re believing anti-New Mandalorian authors who aren’t accepted as canon. And for fuck’s sake, every time you praise Death Watch and say that they’re good, or that Pre Vizsla is an alright guy and redeemable, or that Obi-wan Kenobi of all people think that Mandalorians are better off being warmongers, then you’re wasting my time and helping spread bad (and, yes, racist) takes.

EDIT: Since this is still going around, I’m going to add that 1) there are very prominent Maori pacifist groups that are still being oppressed. The Mandos have a lot of Maori influence because of Temuera Morrison and it’s great that he’s bringing his culture to Star Wars, but the greater Mandalorian cultures are *not* based on them. Whether it’s TCW or Karen Traviss, none of the writers had the authority to make Mandos Maori (and Traviss very obviously fetishised them). 2) People keep claiming ‘pacifism is something governments can claim to oppress others!’ and yeah, it can be an excuse, but very often it’s an authoritarian government, *not* a pacifistic government. Do you know what happens to actual pacifistic governments? Groups? They get attacked and genocided. It’s literally what happened to the New Mandos in TCW. They were attacked and killed and their way of life was obliterated thanks to Death Watch and Maul. They weren’t forcing their way of life on the greater Mandalorian population and honestly? Stop acting like *pacifism is bad*. There are legit pacifists out there and people have *constantly* been actively against war all throughout history and they’ve been *murdered* for it. Recall what happened to Vietnam War protestors??? Recall the smear campaign against France for not getting involved in the Iraqi War??? The New Mandos can reflect any point of history in the real world. Acting otherwise is *your problem*. Can pacifism be used poorly? Yes, mostly when you’re ignoring the plights of others around you in the name of pacifism. Are the New Mandos an actual good example of pacifism? No, and no one would claim it would be and I blame that solely on the shit writing of TCW where war is treated like a game half the time. But acting like pacifism as a whole or pacifistic governments or ideals is bad is fucked up and wildly dismissive of the large number of real pacifists.

#star wars #new mandalorians #satine kryze #obi-wan kenobi #mandalorians #mandalore #cw terrorism #cw racism #cw genocide #pre vizsla #death watch #the mandalorian #the clone wars #tcw

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cora-vizsla · 3 years

Note

I miss Paz and Cabur too! ❤

I've really been into soft lately and I saw a couple soft prompts that I really like because they're about admiration and Paz can say them to Cabur and vise versa.

I feel like I could watch you all day. Everything you do has a touch of magic to it.

I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

Please don't feel obligated to write anything if you don't feel inspired.

Paring: Female!reader (Cabur) x Paz Vizsla

Rating: Uh, teen maybe? Nothing explicit.

Warnings: Fluff. Like your teeth are rotting out this is so sweet fluff.

AN: I'm gonna try to do this without any angst. Let's see if I am capable of it. (Okay I kind of failed there was a touch of angst in there but not between our two favorite love birds)

Your least favorite part of your job was going different places to meet with new groups. Din wanted all Mandalorian to feel welcome on Mandalore and that was a chore in and of itself. He trusted you the most to be able to work through any situation that could arise and knew you were more than competent in taking care of yourself should you need to. That didn't stop Paz from putting everything on hold to make sure he went with you. Part of you was annoyed that it seemed like he didn't trust you to take care of yourself, but Din reminded you that you would be with him if the roles were reversed.

Paz stood in the back of the meeting hall with his arms crossed over his chest. Any time voices were raised towards you, your eyes glanced over to make sure he didn't have his blaster drawn. Most of the meetings were calm but there were a few of the leaders of different clans that were defensive about needing to follow a Mandalore that they had never met.

"I understand your hesitance. The Mandalorian have been driven apart time and time again. All I am asking is that you send delegation to the planet. You can see first hand the work we have put into rebuilding our planet so that all Mandalorian can thrive the way we should be."

"And how do we know this isn't a trap? You're a child of the watch."

"A child of the watch that is here asking for peace. You think I would have sat down with you if I wanted war? Don't mistake my civility as weakness. I am a warrior just as you are."

"I can't even see your face."

"No. There are only two people in this galaxy that can see my face because I choose to live my life that way. I do not think less of you for taking your helmet off. I ask for that same respect."

The warrior stood up but his partners hand shot out, grabbing his arm. He instantly sat down and looked at them. You had known the warrior in question wasn't the one in charge but hadn't quite put your mind to recognizing the smaller pregnant Mando next to him was in charge.

"Do you have children?"

You nodded once and relax back into your chair.

"I do. A daughter. My riduur and I took her in when her village was attacked."

"Does your clan respect foundlings?"

"They are our greatest asset. There is no future without them. Our Mandalore risked his entire life and creed to protect his foundling. He didn't fight to take the dark saber for power; he was protecting his ad'ika."

Their leader nodded once and sat back.

"It is decided then. I will go. I trust that you are comfortable with me bringing an escort."

"You may bring the entire clan if it was what you want. We only want you to see what we have created and offer you all a place there."

The warrior huffed but stood up to help his partner. She motioned for him to leave with everyone else, staying in front of you.

"You risked your life coming here."

"I understand that."

"Is that why your guard has been staring at you the entire time?"

You laughed and nodded, smiling under your helmet at Paz.

"That is Paz Vizsla, my riduur."

She turned and gave Paz a soft smile which was met with a nod. She turned back to you and placed her hand on her belly.

"I will be honest, part of me is being selfish with going to see the planet."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I am force sensitive. I always have been but I had people who could help train me. I was trained to keep it quiet and hidden away. I don't want that for her."

"You know it's a girl?"

"I do. I can feel her thoughts just like she can feel mine. I have heard rumor you have a Jedi temple there."

You nodded and smiled.

"Our Mandalore has a foundling that is force sensitive. He sent him away with the Jedi to be trained so he would be safe. We arranged to have the temple moved to our city so that families could still be connected with this children, regardless if they follow our creed or not."

"That is wonderful."

"I can arrange for you to meet with Master Skywalker on your visit. Although I am sure he will sense the moment you touch down. Force sensitives are welcome there. Everyone is that believes in our cause."

"Thank you. Let me show you to your lodging for the night. No need to leave right away. It's been a long day."

You nodded and followed the woman, Paz moving to walk next to you. He gently touched his hand on the small of your back making you look up at him. Even without seeing him, you just knew he was smiling down at you. The leader stopped in front of a large tent and smiled at both of you.

"There is food, supplies and a fire set up for you. Please let anyone you find know if you need something. We can hash out the final preparations for our visit in the morning. I'd like to follow you back if that is okay."

"Sounds wonderful."

You walked into the tent and sighed as Paz shut the flaps and tied them shut. He walked over to you and pulled your helmet off, cupping the side of your face.

"I am exhausted."

"You did wonderfully, mesh'la."

"I feel like I argued all day."

"You did but for the right cause. I'm not sure I could have stayed that calm with that di'kut spouting his mouth off constantly."

You huffed out another sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting your face in your hands.

"What is wrong, ner riddur?"

"This just feels hopeless. Every time we find more of our people it is just a fight to move on from he past."

"Is that what you think is happening?"

"I know it is. I'm exhausted from all of it."

"That isn't what I see. I see you fighting for a cause that you believe in. I see you building a future for all the children, even the ones not born yet. You're one of the strongest warriors I know and yet here you are using your words to bring us all together. I feel like I could watch you all day. Everything you do has a touch of magic to it."

He pulled your hands off your face and you saw that he no longer had his helmet on now that he was kneeling in front of you. You smiled at him and let yourself relax slightly.

"I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

"I probably wouldn't like what I see."

"Impossible, ner kar'taylir darasuum" (my love)

"Wonder if the other warriors would be as afraid of you if they knew what a sap you are."

"A sap that would rip them to pieces just for looking at you wrong."

You smiled fully as he leaned in to kiss you. Once he pulled away you started to pull his armor off, stacking it neatly at the end of the bed. He watched you intently, a soft smile on his face until you both had your armor off.

"Let's get some sleep."

"How about you lay down so I can bring you some food. Then we can lay in this giant bed together until you fall asleep."

You hummed playfully and made a face like you were thinking.

"I guess that is okay."

"You guess? That's how it is?"

You giggled as he picked up you and tossed you back down on the bed making you laugh even harder.

"Just lay there, ad'ika. Let me take care of you."

"Don't need you to."

"I know."

"But it feels nice to know that you always will."

"Until my dying breath, mesh'la."

Tag List

@mapplestrudel @computeringturtle @the-lady-of-stars @mrsdaamneron @janelongxox

#fanfic #starwars #star wars #paz viszla #paz vizsla x reader #paz x you #paz x female!reader #mandalorian reader insert #the mandalorian #request #ask cora #ask maiihem

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passionesolja · 3 years

Text

Typically, I wouldn’t have time. But right now, I do. It’s like 4AM near here and I’m listening to some NBA Youngboy. A bitch booted up regardless.

I’m responding piece by piece to @short-wooloo because in the same way they’re biased to the Jedi and Republic, I’m biased to the Sith Species and Sith Empire.

Okay so yes, since the Jedi want to be the moral compass of the galaxy. They put that burden on themselves. You want to be galaxy police force and moral arbiters of the “one true morality”? You commuting a genocide is a permanent scar and discount of that.

Them deciding that they get to morally police what everyone does in the entire Republic means that they have that burden. Do the Sith? No.

When did the Sith ever claim to be the “good side” of the force? Never.

The Sith view the force for what it is, a tool for gaining power. The force is like a sword.

Sorry the Jedi have a blemish on their good guy supreme status.

I got nothing to say, but I’m adding it lol

I’m sorry but when you destroy a random alien species, empire, and drive them to extinction. It is onsite until death. You better be ready to always be taken out.

If some random alien civilization attacked earth, and destroyed us, I would want our spiritual successors to destroy them too. Just saying.

Sorry that this shit ain’t carebears but the Jedi and Republic didn’t just hinder the Sith species. They drove them to extinction. The Sith are gone. Bye bye.

Imagine if Saturn Aliens fought Earth for thousands of years and we lost and thus all of humanity went extinct. Then their religious organization had the gull to act like we ALL deserved annihilation because we weren’t perfect enough for their non-human standards.

Fuck outta here with that bullshit. We all know that mentality is stupid.

The Jedi had slaves.

The clone troopers are literal slaves.

Don’t get it fucked up just because The Clone Wars makes it seem cutesy and fun.

These were FELLOW HUMANS, that the Jedi just willingly and happily accepted. Anakin ain’t even have issues with it.

I ain’t ever hear any Jedi bring up how fucked up it was. They just said “fuck it. We love war and the sith are back let’s gooo”.

He knew damn well those bitches ain’t choose that life. Nor did they get paid. They’re disposable war slaves to the Jedi.

They’re worth less than that because at least slaves have humanity granted to them. At least they still humans.

The Jedi gave no humanity to the clones. Them having cute wartime banter isn’t humanity. Sorry.

After they died they ain’t even bury them. They just left their corpses on the planets and dipped. The clones ain’t even get paid.

How is that any better than the Sith deciding to enslave a planet of non-sith?

You telling me some random aliens’ lives are more important than human flesh droids who just get used, killed, and dumped because the Jedi wanna play “fight the sith” again because life’s been boring since the Ruusan Reform?

The clones didn’t even get a memorial dedicated to their death. They ain’t even get names. They were products in the eyes of the Jedi. The Jedi ain’t give a fuck.

They were literal human droids and the Jedi treated them like that.

Stop making excuses.

Let’s just get to the real shit here. The true core of this conflict.

The Sith were only vilified because they were a threat to the Republic’s power. In the same way the Mandalorians were when they fought the Republic.

If the Sith were some weak, harmless and defenseless empire, the republic wouldn’t have given a fuck about them.

And they certainly wouldn’t be deemed as the all encompassing evil. The Republic would have given that title to another Empire who was a threat.

The Mandalorians were very similar to the Sith, but you ain’t see people in the PT or Pre-PT era scared of them still.

You know why? Because they some docile weaklings.

Straight up lil bitches who choose dishonor over death.

The Sith choose death before dishonor. They real and because of that, the Republic propaganda machine slandered them.

That’s what they do when they can’t beat you, they throw dirt on your name.

The Sith had the same conquering ambitions as the Republic, but unlike the rest the Sith ain’t ever fold. They stayed solid even in extinction, then their spiritual successors started causing problems.

That’s why they were demonized. Because that’s what all governments do to rivals.

This isn’t good and evil. This is two governments beefing and the current prominent one being scared of losing it to an actual rival.

The Jedi just some lil tools who got thrown away like some tools.

Okay so I’m sorry but in what world do you let do you let the extermination of your whole species slide???

In what world does that make sense??? Not to me. Not to nobody with sense in they brain.

You wanna genocide the Sith species? Well I hope you ready for your turn to come. That’s how this shit works.

You—the Republic— and your Jedi goons wipe my species out, bitch we ain’t squashing shit. This beef is on until you’re dead, I’m dead, or we both are.

If you beefing with bitches and they kill your mans, you kill them back. That’s how beefs work. Don’t like it? Don’t beef.

Like bro, as I stated earlier, if someone an alien species wiped out humanity, and we let that slide then the fuck would we be?

This wasn’t some lil “oh our trade routes were destroyed oh no”

This was a genocide.

Sorry that the Sith didn’t just take it and smile like some lil hoes.

I’m sorry the Sith actually stand up for themselves.

I’m sorry the Sith didn’t grovel and beg for the Republic/Jedi’s mercy and blended to their will like other civilizations had.

I’m sorry you’re offended that someone stands up for themselves and stands on their beliefs whether or not some random ass alien species approves or not.

Sorry they stayed ten toes down.

Didn’t know that offended you.

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