- Nominations open: September 6, 2026
- Nominations close: September 20, 2026
- Sign-ups open: September 27, 2026
- Sign-ups close: October 11, 2026
- Assignments go out: October 12, 2026
- Works due: December 13, 2026
- Works revealed: December 20, 2026
- Creators revealed: December 27, 2026
Minimum Requirements:
- 500 word piece of fanfiction of a quality you would be happy to receive Â
or
- a clean drawing, of good resolution, on unlined paper (or on a white digital background) and of a quality you would be happy to receive.
The exchange is an 18+ event (NSFW content IS allowed this year so that means all participants must be over 18 years old).
- Nominations open: September 6, 2026
- Nominations close: September 20, 2026
- Sign-ups open: September 27, 2026
- Sign-ups close: October 11, 2026
- Assignments go out: October 12, 2026
- Works due: December 13, 2026
- Works revealed: December 20, 2026
- Creators revealed: December 27, 2026
Minimum Requirements:
- 500 word piece of fanfiction of a quality you would be happy to receive Â
or
- a clean drawing, of good resolution, on unlined paper (or on a white digital background) and of a quality you would be happy to receive.
The exchange is an 18+ event (NSFW content IS allowed this year so that means all participants must be over 18 years old).
Iâve made the difficult decision to cancel the KOTOR Gift Exchange this year. I have stage two breast cancer and will be spending the rest of the year in treatment.
It breaks my heart because I wanted to run the exchange, despite my diagnosis, but I am unsure if Iâll have the energy for it. I love this game so much and hope next year will be better.
Amor Vincit Omnia
My gift for my dear @commander-krios as part of the KOTOR Gift Exchange! Such a pleasure to paint her beautiful Revan and her spoils of war - as a friend so nicely put it ;)
Fandom: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Pairing: Female Revan/Carth Onasi
Rating: Teen
Summary: Revan doesn't remember her first love, not really. Her fractured memories can't provide concrete answers to what she feels in her heart: an echoing loneliness that knew love once upon a time. But if her time on the Ebon Hawk taught her one thing, it's that second loves can be just as beautiful as the first.
Words: 1037
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Love, Second Love, Affection, Survivor's Guilt, Metaphors, Personal Growth
Read on AO3
Here is a small treat for @yellow-faerie!
Despite the forced amnesia and the galaxy burning around her (both figuratively and literally), Revan knew, with absolute clarity, that the attraction she felt for Carth Onasi was unique, a bone deep feeling thatâd she felt only once in her entire miserable life. (It was for a person she couldnât recall now but knew, in her heart, would be important to her no matter how much time passed).
The galaxy was a mass of darkness and pain, entire worlds decimated only to renew again in a natural cycle of life and death. And perhaps that was what love was: a wellspring of flowers burnt to cinders, nothing left of what it once was until new life sprung from its carcass, a budding hope, a blooming of promises and possibilities. The realization that maybe love was always there beneath the dead soil, waiting for the sun again.
As Revan traveled across the galaxy with Carth and the rest of the Ebon Hawk crew, she felt those first rays of warm sunshine again. There was hope in Missionâs mischievous grin, joy manifested in the easy affection from Carth, promise in Bastilaâs strict teachings, and new possibilities in Juhaniâs redemption⊠and in hers.
Love bloomed from the family theyâd built.
Revan stood against the backdrop of the galaxy map, staring at the datapad in her hands. There was still so much left to do even after Malakâs defeat, the remaining Sith carving a path of destruction across the galaxy that needed to be quelled. And there was still the issue of her identity, of how people would react when they realized that Darth Revan still lived and roamed freely among the Jedi. Among the Republic.
She feared what sort of consequences the Republic might event as punishment for her sins.
The gentle touch of Carthâs fingers splayed against the small of her back brought her back to reality, a reminder that not everything in the world was touched by evil, by darkness. Carth Onasi was a man of action, confident and secure in his abilities as a pilot. A true hero of the people, of the Republic even if the admirals didnât agree with the assessment. Despite his own losses (and those were as devastating as hers had been), he still held himself proudly. There hadnât been a single chance of her not falling in love with him.
She glanced up into brown eyes that were almost black in the dim lighting, a lock of hair rebelling and falling softly against his forehead, a few days old beard casting shadows across his face. He looked tired, the dark circles beneath his eyes betraying him as readily as the yawn that left his mouth. With the sheepish grin he threw her, he knew heâd been caught.
âYou should be sleeping.â She told him in the quiet, reaching up to scratch the rough hair of his beard.
Carth covered her fingers with a hand, squeezing gently, a shadow of a smile crossing his lips. âFunny because you should be doing the same, beautiful.â
The danger had passed, or at least the worst of it, and yet⊠here they were, two old soldiers trying to not take the weight of the galaxyâs problems on their shoulders. Entwining their hands together, Revan brought them to her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles, feeling safe and whole for the first time for as long as she could remember, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
âHey, hey.â He whispered, pulling her closer until her chest was flush against his. âNone of that, alright?â
Revan trailed her hands down his chest, pausing where his heart beat steadily, a rhythmic cadence that her own heart beat along with. âWeâre not very good at this, are we?â
By the rise of his eyebrows, she knew he understood. âWar creates paranoia in the most logical of men.â
There was truth in his words and it pained her to admit it. âHow do we move on from this? From all of it?â
The Mandalorians, the Sith and what they did to Taris, the destruction of the Enclave. The death of Morgana Onasi and the spiraling effect it had on who Carth was as a human being. Not to discount her fractured memories, the guilt over her true identity and the massive loss of life in the pursuit of Malak and the Star Maps. Revan saw the haunted look on Bastilaâs face each and every morning, knowing how that guilt gnawed.
Carth pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his warm breath brushing against her skin. They hovered in that moment, silence enveloping them, the realization that life was never going to be the same once they arrived on Coruscant. But for now, they had each other and it was enough.
âWeâll do this like everything else.â Carth said against her skin, his lips trailing over her brow, down the curve of her nose before pausing. âWe keep going with what we know, do the best we can. And no matter what happens, Iâll be with you every step of the way.â He shifted so their gazes met, the determined look on his face making her feel better about the uncertainty ahead. âWeâre in this together, beautiful. To the very end.â
Revan reached up to brush the loose lock of hair back where it belonged, but it stubbornly fell into Carthâs eyes again. Laughing lightly, she tried once more before it flopped over for a third time. âYour hair is as stubborn as you are.â
âAnd somehow, you are still more nerf-headed.â
A choked laugh left her. No matter how annoying he could be (and he was being immensely annoying at that particular moment), Carth Onasi was her home. There was nothing more certain in her fractured life than that.
With her heart in her throat, she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble scratched her lips. âI love you.â
The confession brought a sparkle back to his eyes, his lips curling into a devious smirk that left her stomach curling in excitement. âIs that so?â
And for the first time in what felt like centuries, Revan felt like she could breath again.
Fandom: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Pairing: Female Revan/Bastila Shan
Rating: Teen
Summary: A galaxy saved, a Sith Lord defeated, and yet everything was as uncertain as ever.
Words: 2780
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Friendship, Budding Love, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Torture, Healing, Gift Fic
Read on AO3
Happy KOTOR Gift Day, @eluvisen <3
The Ebon Hawk was dark, the silence nearly as stifling as the humidity on Lehon.Â
A galaxy saved, a Sith Lord defeated, and yet everything was as uncertain as ever. An unnatural silence had fallen upon the Ebon Hawk, a nearly palpable tension that drove the residents of the ship into their respective hiding places. Jolee had sought the safety of the sterile medbay while Mission hid in the smuggling compartment with a stack of holovids. Canderous was tinkering with the blasters in the garage, the familiar tck tck of the wrench against metal a comfort despite the agitated way the Mandalorian worked.
Juhani was mediating in the dormitory, Zaalbar was double checking their supplies (also known as eating them), the droids were at their posts doing whatever it was they did while the rest of the crew slept. (In the case of HK, most likely plotting their deaths for once they landed on Coruscant). Now that she really thought about it, she needed to speak to Carth about the assassin droid once heâd managed to stop pacing a hole into her ship.
There was one presence thatâd left a chilly emptiness behind, an eerie silence that only reminded Revan of the weeks when Bastila had been Malakâs prisoner, unreachable through the bond theyâd had. During the ensuing chaos that followed, Revan could ignore the figurative gaping hole in her chest. She didnât have to examine what it meant, what Bastila meant, to not the war or the Jedi, but to her.Â
To everyone on the Ebon Hawk.
She was important, there was no doubt on that fact. Her battle mediation made her a threat to the Jedi and Sith both, each side wanting to harness that power to bolster their forces. As if the power was something that could be controlled, that it wasnât also attached to a living, breathing human being. Not that the Sith cared for much beyond power and control, but that wasnât the point.
Bastila wasnât the only Jedi capable of great things; Revan herself was once considered one such being. But sheâd never met a more self-sacrificing Jedi in her entire life. Bastila was willing to suffer for others, even for Revan, a person whoâd caused unfettered destruction upon the galaxy. Sheâd found a person to save in Darth Revan, and thought that perhaps she might save Malak as well.
In the end, all it did was put the weight of the galaxy on a young womanâs shoulders that didnât need to be there in the first place, and ultimately, itâd destroyed the light within her.
The cockpit was as quiet as the rest of the ship, lights flashing along the console in blues and whites that mimicked the stars outside of the viewport. It took a moment for Revanâs eyes to adjust to the difference in lighting, but she immediately spotted Bastila as she sat in her usual seat, legs tucked close to her body. Sheâd wrapped her arms around herself, the brown Jedi robes a few sizes too big now, the starvation and torture at the hands of the Sith doing more than just physical damage.Â
Shuffling her feet to make some sort of noise (she didnât need to surprise her by lurking in the darkness), Revan moved toward the navicomputer, trying to avoid openly staring at the way Bastilaâs hair hung limply against her shoulders, the knot she usually kept it in untied. Or how she was paler than usual, dark circles etched into the skin beneath her eyes. There was a permanent haunted expression on her face, as if she saw nightmares in the dark recesses of her mind, even while awake.
Rescue from the clutches of the Sith was difficult enough after the ordeal sheâd been through, but Revan knew what it was like to feel rudderless, to feel like a failure in the one thing you were supposed to be good at. And to know that your failure ended in the deaths of so many people, the guilt weighed more than the responsibility had before.
Revan glanced at the navicomputer, every sense on alert: her entire body aware when Bastila shifted against the synthleather seat, the old frame squeaking slightly at the movement. Her breaths were uneven, not erratic as if she was panicking, but there was a tension in each breath she took, as if her lungs wouldnât fill to capacity.
How painful, after everything theyâd been through, when she couldnât even ask her if she was alright. Peace was permanently destroyed for Bastila Shan, and no matter how much she may try, there might never been a chance for her to find it again.
Humming low in her throat, Revan dimmed the brightness of the navicomputer, hoping it would ease Bastilaâs fears enough that she might sleep sometime during the night cycle. Though, if her nightmares were anything like the ones she had when she closed her eyes, Revan understood the desire to avoid them by any means possible.
The blinking lights that marked their trajectory burned her eyes as she stared at them amid the ever present darkness, wishing she could reach out and touch some part of who Bastila was beneath the pain and fear and guilt. To have her know that she wasnât alone anymore, that she wouldnât let her be alone anymore if that was what she wished.Â
Revan knew enough of regret to understand how easily the mental toll could become physical, affecting the body, the mind, how each breath became harder no matter how much air you took into your lungs, how each time you attempted sleep, it eluded you. How the nightmares existed around every corner, shadows dancing out of the corners of your eyes, a coldness that crept up on a person and got into their very being.
There were times when she wondered what it would feel like to surrender to the dark again, to turn away from everything sheâd known, believed, and let the revenge sheâd longed for control her. To get revenge for everything Malak had done to Bastila, to the Enclave. To Taris, a place sheâd once known, long ago, but now, could never completely remember no matter how much she tried.
Sometimes, she wished this evil that curled inside of her would disappear completely. Otherwise, it might consume her once more and she might just let it.
âRevan?â
Her name on Bastilaâs tongue was soft, as if her very utterance would send them both spinning into madness. Maybe she already was mad. Maybe it was the better way to go, at the end of it all, here with Bastila.
Glancing through the cyan glow of the lights, she noticed Bastila watching her, slender fingers curling into the folds of her robes. She was like a startled animal, too afraid to leave her spot on the chair, but if she made one wrong move, she might fleeâŠ. Or attack.Â
What was she supposed to do? Or say, for that matter? Revan had known her own taste of darkness before, wanted to wrap her hands around Malakâs throat and choke the life out of him on the bridge of the Leviathan, but Bastila had been there to pull her back. And no matter how angry she was at her for withholding the truth about who she truly was, no matter how many mistakes sheâd made over the course of time theyâd spent together aboard the Ebon Hawk, Revan knew that Bastila Shan had the best interest of the galaxy in mind.
Sheâd never met a more maddeningly stubborn woman in her entire life.
Yet the woman who sat in front of her now was a shell of the Jedi sheâd once been.
Time stretched between them, taut as if it would snap at the slightest touch. Bastilaâs eyes had shifted away from Revanâs face, a shadow crossing hers as she searched for a lifeline to hold onto. Anything that could help ground her to this new reality. But all that was left behind was a past rife with torment and an uncertain future.
Trying to find some way to spare her more pain, Revan attempted a distraction, anything to keep her from thinking of the bad things. âIâve spoken to Dustil. I know you⊠you were worried about him.â
Silence greeted her words. Not a single reaction to the reminder of what theyâd found on Korriban: not a blink of an eye or a glance in her direction. No flinches nor quick movements. No tight breath or mournful sigh.
Perhaps, that was the most concerning part of this new Bastila: how empty she seemed.
âHeâs left Korriban. Doesnât exactly know what heâs going to do with his new freedom, but he convinced a few of the other apprentices to leave.â Despite everything left unsaid between him and his son, Carth was proud of the person Dustil was becoming. No matter how much he tried to hide it from the rest of them, he had hope once more and most of that was Bastilaâs influence. âWithout your guidance and friendship, I doubt many of us would be here now.â
That got a reaction out of her. She visibly swallowed, a nervous motion that Revan immediately recognized. She shifted almost imperceptibly, but sheâd gotten good at reading her over the last few weeks. She was uncomfortable and was having a difficult time hiding it.
âFriends.â A huff of breath escaped her mouth, as if she hadnât considered them friends at all, and she wet her lips, trying to find the words to respond. âIâm not sure I can be anyoneâs friend. I donât even who Iâm supposed to be anymore.â
Revan rested her arms against the back of Carthâs pilotâs chair, watching Bastila in the quiet. She wouldnât meet her gaze, eyes focused on the stars past the viewport. Her fingers were curled into the folds of her robe, her grip white knuckled and tense. But sheâd responded, that was the first step.
âWho says you have to be anything but a person?â
âIs that what I am?â She whispered, voice strained as she closed her eyes, looking older than sheâd ever had before. âI donât feel very human.â
She wished she could reach out to comfort her, for both of their sake. Even at her lowest point, Revan had never seen anyone as sad as Bastila Shan was in that moment.
âYou arenât a machine.â She paused, waiting for Bastila to finally glance at her again, grey eyes reflecting the blue of the consoles. Two of her favorite stars to gaze upon. âIâm sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise, Bastila. But it doesnât make it less true.â
âIâve only ever been a tool for others. My mother, the Jedi, Malak. IâŠâ She trailed off, dropping her gaze to her hands where the scars of chains still marked her wrists. Theyâd always be a reminder of the things sheâd suffered at the hands of the Sith. Of Malak.
âItâs okay to be angry. Youâre allowed to be upset about what happened to you.â Revan spun the pilotâs chair around, taking the chance to sit and meet her gaze head on, without fear or hesitation. Bastilaâs biggest flaw was her inability to realize that she was more than a Jedi, more than her powers. Dangling her hands between her knees, she had to fight the impulse to touch her. Twining her fingers together, Revan let her words hang in the space between them, hoping some part of what sheâd said settled in Bastilaâs mind.
To her surprise, Bastila didnât glance away, slanting those haunting grey eyes at her, as if the very thought she voiced was insanity. âRevan-â
The sound of her name on Bastilaâs tongue set her heart stuttering in her chest and for a brief moment, she almost forgot about the horrors theyâd witnessed from the Sith, from Malak. She was staring at Revan like before⊠before the day sheâd almost lost her forever. âYouâre worth more than this, Bastila.â
âWorth more than what?â She hissed, the fury rolling off of her in waves, eyes wild as she reached out to grab her by the wrist, her next sentence dripping from her mouth like venom. âIâve done unforgivable acts, hurt the people I cared for most. Taris is gone because of me! And Dantooine-â Reminder of what Malak had done to the Enclave made her pause, a sound between a hiccup and a sob coming from her throat.
Revan didnât think Bastila even realized sheâd grabbed her, her grip tightening almost painfully. The touch of Bastilaâs cold skin against hers was almost scalding, the iciness of her fingers curling around her wrist reminding her of how much healing they had left to do. The dark side still slithered beneath Bastilaâs skin, the veins dark against pale skin, scars that went deeper than flesh imprinted on her entire being.Â
Revan glanced down at where Bastila touched her, unable to resist covering her hand with her own. Her warmth helped to dissipate both the chill of Bastilaâs skin and the fire of her anger, dousing it as quickly as itâd arrived. Her shoulders fell, her body curling in on itself, as if trying to make herself disappear altogether. Bastila needed to heal, but she couldnât do that if she denied herself feeling anything at all.Â
âYou donât do halfway, do you?â
Those grey eyes studied her briefly, expression shifting to confusion the longer she thought about the question. âWhatever you are attempting to say-â
Revan let out a small laugh, unable to stop herself, and Bastilaâs nose scrunched up in frustration. When she attempted to pull her hand away, Revan gripped it a little firmer, shaking her head and trying to keep from laughing again. âBastila, wait-â
âI will not sit here and be made fun of-â
âIâm not making fun of you, darling.â Revan couldnât stop a soft smile from appearing on her mouth, a response to how easily agitated Bastila got. Some things never changed, even after everything else had. The pet name made her pause, glancing away as if it shamed her to be called something so affectionate. Revan hesitated, afraid of scaring her away, but what she needed to say was too important to be ignored. Bastila was struggling against the dark side still, and she wouldnât let her lose herself again. âYou think you donât deserve happiness. That emotion, any emotion, is something to be ignored, but thatâs the problem, isnât it? If you deny feeling anything at all: happiness, anger, fear⊠love⊠thatâs what will corrupt you. Indifference is worse than being angry once in a while.â
Bastila stared at Revan as if sheâd only just seen her. And was questioning her sanity at the same time.
âYou try too hard to be this perfect stoic Jedi Master that you forget that youâre also human. Give yourself a little grace. You deserve some peace in this galaxy.â
âI⊠I donât know how to respond to that.â
Revan removed her hands from Bastilaâs, leaning back into the seat, the chairâs cushions welcoming her back to the helm. Bastila waited for Revan to speak, appearing more confused than sheâd been before. In the aftermath of her torture with the Sith, with nothing but anger as her motivator, Revan wasnât expecting her to understand. Only for her to listen to what she said and then decide on her own path.
âYou donât have to say anything.â Flexing her fingers, she tried to ignore the tingling in her skin where Bastila had touched her.Â
Bastila stared at her, mouth slightly agape, before shaking her head. âHow can you trust that I wonât snap and kill you where you stand?â
It was a possibility, always had been, she supposed, but there was one issue with Bastilaâs question. Revan was tied to Bastila for the rest of their lives, force bond or no. Because Revan would never give up on her as long as she lived.
âIâll sit here in the dark for as long as youâd like, Bastila.â
With a scoff, a soft smile curled Bastilaâs lips, an image that Revan committed to memory. It was the first smile sheâd given since before the Leviathan. âYou fool.â
âA fool I may be, but Iâm your fool all the same.âÂ
Bastila fumbled to reach for her hand, but Revan easily locked their fingers together, feeling hope again for the first time in so long, that it nearly choked her. There was too much to say and so little time before they arrived at Coruscant. For now, however, they could bask in the stillness of a galaxy saved.
Creators have been revealed! Feel free to post and share your gifts. I want to thank everyone who participated for such a wonderful event once again. See you next year!
Creators have been revealed! Feel free to post and share your gifts. I want to thank everyone who participated for such a wonderful event once again. See you next year!
Gifts are due today, December 15th, at 8pm EST. If you think youâll need an extension, please reach out ASAP.
If youâve not reached out, I will attempt to contact the last gift givers about the status of their gift tomorrow. If I do not receive a timely response, I will assume youâve dropped out and default your gift.
