Tag: baze malbus

Baze and Chirrut meeting Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan?

lacefedora:

Ohhh! thanks Pop! Okay okay so Baze and Chirrut are four and five years younger than Obi-wan respectively so I just have to do Padawan Obi-wan visiting the Jedha temple. <We’re gonna make Obi 15. so Qui is 50, Chirrut is ten and Baze is eleven>

(note I haven’t read Guardians of the Whills yet, though it is literally sitting right next to me)

–

Obi-Wan had learned about other sects of Force followers in the Creche, but that was entirely different from seeing the NiJedha temple with his own eyes. it was huge and ancient. Far older than the Coruscant temple. The air buzzed with power and when he first got close to it it was completely overwhelming.

“It’s the Kyber crystals in the caves beneath the Temple.” Qui-Gon tells him, answering an unasked question.

“Why doesn’t feel like this on Illum, Master?” Obi-wan points out, looking back at him. 

A small voice answers before Qui-gon can.

“The crystals of Jedha are special. Much bigger than on Illum and they resonate deeply with the Force. They’re Sacred.” A boy says, his eyes are pale blue and he has both his hands wrapped around a small staff.

“Sacred to who?” Obi-wan asks, coming over toward the boy. He doesn’t notice Qui-Gon smiling behind them.

“To the Force.” The boy says, smiling at him and Obi-wan realizes he’s blind. Another boy comes over, gangly and roughly the same age. He bumps the boy with the staff and hands him some kind of pastry. Obi-wan feels his stomach growl.

Qui-gon puts a hand on Obi-wan’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a moment Padawan. Why don’t you stay here, and learn about the temple from these young Guardians.” he suggests and Obi-wan looks back at him, smiling.

“Yes master.” he tells him.

“I’m Chirrut
Îmwe.” The boy with the staff tells Obi-wan then tears his pastry in half, holding out the other half toward Obi-wan. His companion makes a grumpy noise and gives some more of his own pastry to Chirrut. Obi-wan hesitates.

“You’re hungry. I heard your stomach growling.” Chirrut laughs. “Don’t worry there’s more. Baze is only grumpy about having to share his own. He worries about me.” Chirrut tells him.

“Thank you…” Obi-wan says finally and takes the half offered to him. He smiles and takes a bite and he notices ‘Baze’ watching him. He nods at him and receives a nod in return.  “So…” He comes over, sitting down. “Can you tell me more about the Kyber here?”

Baze doing his best to comfort Chirruit free the fall of the Jedi and rise of the empire while his whole world is also turned around but he’s gotta be strong for Chirruit

lacefedora:

Vega!! Hello! this is a great one. Thank you!

–

Baze had never had many friends among the Jedi. He often found them too arrogant. Too sure that their way was the Right Way. Chirrut had never had the same reservations. Every Jedi visiting the temples presented the opportunity for deep debates on the nature of the Force and Chirrut lived for it. It seemed the Jedi that visited enjoyed it too and Chirrut had many friends that he’d kept in contact with.

During the Clone War, Jedi numbers dwindled quickly. Baze had helped Chirrut through it when he’d lost friends.

It was completely different when the Coruscant Temple fell and the the Jedi purges began. The Galaxy is different. Baze is quite certain it will never be the same again. But most importantly, Chirrut is different. He had become quiet, withdrawn; everything Chirrut never was. It was heartbreaking to Baze… he wasn’t sure how to reach this pain in him. How to help with these wounds. He couldn’t understand a Force that could let this happen.

Baze finds him one night, just sitting in one of the Kyber caves. He silently makes his way to Chirrut, knowing the crystals would amplify is presence enough for Chirrut to track him. Baze sits beside him.

“They will come for us next.” Chirrut says and Baze looks over at him. Sees the man reach out and unerringly place his hand on a the nearest crystal. “They’ll come for these.”

“I know.” Baze agrees, taking a breath. “The elders do not think so… but I don’t think the purges have really settled in for them yet. They will not have much time for debate.”

“We will lose everything.” Chirrut says quietly, clearly thinking of all that they’d already lost. Baze gets to his feet and grabs Chirrut’s shoulder, turning him toward him.

“Not me.” Baze tells him and he watches at Chirrut frowns a little. Baze takes his face in his hands, kissing him once briefly then leaning their foreheads together. “Even if we are separated… I will always find you.”

“Always?” Chirrut asks and licks his lips. Closing his eyes and bringing his hand to the back of Baze’s neck.

“Always.” Baze tells him. “You’ll never lose all of me.”

Chirrut breathes out slowly and kisses him as well.

“I believe you.”

#2 for spiritassassin? (can I send more? I could send you a bunch of these hehe I love how you write kisses)

poplitealqueen:

Hunny bunny, you could ask me to write a fucking novel about Spiritassassin kisses and I’d respond with, “How many chapters?”

I’m afraid I still haven’t found that wayward prompt list yet, so here’s just a random kissing scene.

***

Four minutes and thirty-three seconds. That’s how long their mouths are together before Baze has to pull away to gulp down some desperately-needed air.

Initiate Imwê whines as he does, *actually* whines, and Baze wonders again how any of the senior monks in the temple could think this man couldn’t complete a simple errand into the city on his own. He has the stamina and stubbornness of a kriffing bantha.

“We need to be getting back,” Baze says, breathlessly. Imwê only smiles impishly at him, poking his tongue out to run along his kiss-swollen lips. Baze grunts, his cock twitching at the sight. For a man born blind, Chirrut Imwê knows exactly how good he looks.

“They won’t miss us for an hour, or two.” Imwê sneaks a hand beneath the fold of Baze’s tunic, brushing his fingers over a pebbly nipple. “I know you’ve wanted this. The Force whispers it to me…”

Baze rolls his eyes and hefts Imwê a little bit higher against the alley wall. Imwê responds with a soft giggle and tightening his legs around Baze’s waist. By the Whills, Baze is sure Imwê could snap him in half if he wanted to. Chirrut Imwê, it is completely apparent, is not someone to be underestimated.

“Ten minutes,” Baze says, before pressing his face into the side of Imwê’s long neck and rolling a patch of skin between his teeth.

Imwê keens. “Make it twenty and I’ll give you a blowjob.”

Hells. That goes straight to Baze’s crotch. “And I suppose the Force whispered that to you as well?”

The muscles in Imwê’s neck tighten as smiles. “Such blasphemy from the most respected Guardian-to-be on Jehda! I should report you, but first. Do we have a deal?”

For some reason, it feels as though this promise is one that goes far deeper than Baze anticipates. Something tells me he won’t be free of Imwê any time soon.

He can live with that.

“Deal.”

*crashes through the kiss prompt” AYYY SPIRITASSASSIN FOR NUMBER 6 pretty please

poplitealqueen:

I lost the original prompt ask thingie, so just have some Survived Scarif!AU relief smooches.

***

Chirrut woke up first, with half his face pressed against cold metal, his entire body aching, and a silence so pervasive that it turned to buzzing in his ears.

Baze woke up next, with a cough and a groan and an audible cracking of his bones as he stretched.

Relief and fear flooded Chirrut in equal measure. Relief, for here was Baze, alive, here he was, *alive*. Fear, because he had no Force damned idea how they’d managed it.

“Baze.” Chirrut whispered, reaching out a hand to feel around the general direction he knew the mercenary to be. His throat was dry and croaking. He could still taste the smoke of Scarif on his tongue. When no answer came, he repeated the name again, louder. “Baze, by every fucking Journal of the Whills, answer me.”

Chirrut heard the smacking of lips, and the sound of fabric rustling against skin and steel.

A hand, callused and strong, met his.“…Morning, Chirrut.”

Chirrut scowled. “I’m supposed to be the laid back one,” he murmured, squeezing back. “Are you alright?”

Baze paused, and Chirrut waited. His husband took his time with his words, but he never wasted a single one.

“Yes?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice. “Though I don’t know how.”

Chirrut moved carefully until he was close enough to feel Baze’s body heat against his own. They were both on the ground, it seemed. How hospitable.

“We were on Scarif last–” Baze began, and then promptly cut it off with a curse. “You died!” Baze’s voice caught in his throat, and Chirrut felt his other hand come to rest on his shoulder. It was trembling. “You died, and so did I.”

Chirrut considered that for all of two minutes. “I don’t feel very dead.”

The hand on his shoulder shoved at him, but there wasn’t much strength behind the movement. “I held you in my arms, you fool. ‘Look for me in the Force’. Bah. You couldn’t even say I love you before you…”

Chirrut felt a warm forehead press against his own, and then lips just barely touching his.

“I love you,” Chirrut murmured, kissing him back.

“If you ever do that again,” Baze warned.

Chirrut smiled. “I’ll endeavor not to die again, I promise.” He took a deep breath. “So, now that we have that out of the way, would you care to tell me where we are?”

Baze pulled away, and Chirrut heard the telltale swish of his long hair as he looked around wherever the hells they were.

“I’m not going to like the answer, am I?” Chirrut asked. “Allow me to guess: the Empire.”

“The Empire.”

Chirrut let out a long weary sigh, and moved onto his back. It took longer than he was used to to sit up, and even longer to stand. Every part of him felt as though it had been stepped on by an AT-AT, but eventually he was on his feet once more.

“We’d best find our way out.”

luminousfinn:

You know what I wish?

I wish that people who write about Chirrut, Baze and Bodhi post-Scarif and focuses on them dealing with the loss of Jedha would do just the least bit of research into what it means to survive genocide. What it does to you as a person, What it does to a culture and a people to be subjected to that.

And what it’s like to live in diaspora, especially when your home, the place of your culture of origin has been wiped out. When you and the other few of your home planet that survives, what you carry with you, is all that is left. What you build is all that will ever remain.

On that note. 

Realize that these three would not be the only survivors of Jedha. That there would be others like Bodhi who had joined the Empire for one reason or another, but even if they didn’t before might turn against them now after Jedha was destroyed. 

People who over the years have found passage off planet, gone elsewhere in the galaxy in search of a better life.

Or fled. Jedha is a freaking warzone, we’re told as much in the movie. You know what warzones generates? Refugees. Jedha would have its share, scattered through the stars. It’s not even that unthinkable that some of the Guardians made it off planet after the fall of the temple.

Oh and finally.

These three are all from Jedha. Bodhi is a local lad, he’s not going to be ignorant of the culture and history. Stop freaking writing him like a child who would know nothing.

In fact, people who lived in occupied territories, who faces the worst of an imperialist boot heel, are often the ones who most aggressively keep their culture and stories alive among themselves, as a form of resistance against those who would steal their identity.

If the only way you you feel you can display their culture is through one of them teaching, or explaining it, then ffs please don’t have Chirrut or Baze explain it to Bodhi. Planets works like countries in Star Wars and you’re literally assuming that Bodhi is oblivious about the very country he grew up in.

I mean, it’s one thing if you explore local differences in their culture, heck Baze and Chirrut might not come from the exact same place on Jedha so they too might carry local differences with them. Or how Guardians might have done things in a different way that the rest of the populace. But that’s not what I’m talking about here, it’s writing Bodhi in a way where he need to be taught by Baze and/or Chirrut.

Have one of them explain it to Cassian or Jyn. Or even Luke. I don’t care, just stop that other thing.

Because, quite frankly, it’s painfully obvious that most of the people writing this are white Christians without even the first clue. In the beginning it was frustrating but also slightly amusing, in a “well, they’re trying and it’s not that bad so I’m just going to let it pass” kinda way. I know that no one is doing this out of malice, but now it’s quite honestly getting to the point where it’s just straight up frustrating.