#sakajin
*waves my oc around* look at her, I love her
I also totally need to redo her ref sheet myself or commission someone else, bc my style is still wayyyy too cutesy to properly draw characters of the Tarael species tbh
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Me: Now that I’m back into Star Wars, I can work on an old passion project fanfic of my OC and Grievous! Probably just needs some little beta updates here and there since its been a few years and-
Brain: You should entirely rewrite the story since you have a greater understanding of narrative development and the characterization of your OC Sakajin and her relationship with Grievous.
Me: I-
Brain: I have already found a complete Grievous timeline that someone made on youtube so you can outline the rewritten story to properly conform to the major story beats of current canon just enough but also to throw out the horrible writing that turned Grievious into a super flat villain with little motivation. This timeline video is in total about two hours long.
Me: Wait a minute here-
Brain: Oh, and you also want to redesign and update multiple elements to the original species you created for the Star Wars fandom because your art skills have also grown and you want other people to see how cool they originally were to you when you were like 15
Me: …are you done now?
Brain: More or less
Life Afterwards - DarthSuki - Star Wars Prequel Trilogy [Archive of Our Own]
Sakajin was once a young woman who found herself as the apprentice of General Grievous and the inheritor of her mother’s enigmatic legacy. After the events of the Clone Wars, all she wants is to have a simple life with the family she had made.
It may be a bit of a strange family—herself, a clone named Scorch, and her ex-mentor Grievous (who goes by Qymaen once more)—but at least they care about one another.
…
“I heard you cursing earlier about something outside, Qymaen,” Sakajin didn’t even need to turn her head away from the sink upon recognizing the sound. The man’s heavy, metallic footsteps gave him away with ease. “Did one of you break the water collector?”
When he didn’t give her an answer for a few silent moments, the woman finally turned her gaze around to peer at him, amusement and curiosity gently tugging at her expression.
To almost anyone else, the cyborg towering in the doorway would have had a different name, one that had carried years of pain and suffering that he had only recently been able to heal from. His birth name, once shunned and now reclaimed, always settles in the air with a warm sort of devotion—despite being several years since the end of the Clone Wars, he’s still not quite used to hearing it again. Less so in using it himself.
“Nothing is broken,” he says after a moment, as if having to collect himself before speaking. His form straightens, and for a moment Sakajin thought he seemed to be leaning ever so slightly to one side. “And no, there isn’t anything wrong either, I simply wanted to check on how you-“
“Don’t believe whatever he’s saying in there!” interrupted a third voice, from outside of the open doorway, though it didn’t take more than a breath for the owner to step inside and wipe off some sweat gathered at his brow. “Our ol’ general here might be too proud to mention it, but I think he’s got a part malfunctioning in his hip. Been complainin’ about it all morning.”
The second man is a human. His features are rugged, an old scar stretching across one side of his face where he’d been burned several years before—despite the injury, scarcely a single person could say his face wasn’t at least somewhat familiar, being just one of a million or more clone soldiers who had fought in that namesake war. But, to the two other people standing in the house with him, he was his own person. Stupidly light-hearted, frustratingly stubborn. No more, and certainly no less.
Sakajin stared at both of the men for a few seconds before letting out a sigh.
“You know I can probably fix that, right?” she asks the cyborg, who decides to turn his sharp gaze towards the man beside him and growls, though the sound is scarcely venomous.
“I’m fairly certain I mentioned before that she did not need to know, Scorch.”
“Yeah, well that was before you kept griping about it,” the clone retorts, stepping away from the doorway and towards the kitchen to grab a towel and start wiping off his hands—both he and Qymaen had been making repairs to several tools around the house. “Maybe, if you didn’t sound like an old man with joint issues, then I wouldn’t have to make jokes about it.”
Since Star Wars was like, one of the earliest fandoms I ever participated in with writing and art, it’s really interesting (and hilarious) to see how fifteen years of time has changed how I interact with it—especially with OCs
Bc when I was younger I put out content like ‘please look at my characters, they’re not mary-sue’s I promise they’re very flawed and I made sure everything makes total sense in canon I am so sorry to bother you’
and now I’m just like ‘hey bitches come feast your eyes on my bisexual poly OT3 with Grievous and my OCs, one’s a clone that escaped order 66 and the other is a woman whose mom was a Jedi and she holds all the brain cells between the three of them. No this is not a request this is a threat’
