#DONT look at the lightsaber too long

[moncuries]

and im sorry i couldnt save you, too

#sorry!!!! #sorry #liepke made me do it #dinluke #the mandalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #my art #fanart #star wars #DONT look at the lightsaber too long #uses jedi mindtricks on u #if ur reading this can u rb it im using my autistic eyes thanks

[kingdomvel]

Modern Jedi

#someone teach me how to art properly #I couldnt stop thinking about this #look at him with his bomber and his lightsaber #dont look at him too long or you will start noticing its shit #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanart #modern jedi #my art

[gifti3]

Really into the concept of weilding your partner as a weapon

#boyfriend dungeon #i loveeee this game #i mentioned this a long time ago but i wanted to make a weapon design for asmo #and came up with a flail mace combo #but now im also thinking what he would look like as a “blasty” weapon #anyways i had thought about the other ob3y me characters as weapons too #beel was a pair of guantlets #lucifer was some fancy sword of course #my friend wanted to make simeon a lance #she said he was lance coded lol #i can see it #he has a sword but dont want too many swords #levi was some type of lightsaber i think #mammon was a knife gun #(very rw/by of him) #satan i wasnt sure what to do with him #and i think i forgot what belphie was.... #anyways i just wanna draw weapon asmo #i keep forgetting about it tho #oh right 13 was a scythe! very ez

[katiapostsss]

i dont see enough of soft!anakin

he'd so be the kind of boyfriend to melt under your touch in a way nobody else gets to see. if you asked of him the world, you're getting exactly that and the galaxy paired along with it. i also think that despite how comfortable he is with you and how comfortable you are with him, he'd still get shy around you. if you stare at him too long he'll look away or if you kiss his cheek once or twice or more, his face is flushing red.

considering anakin's passion and how deeply he feels, his love runs stronger for you than it ever has for anything before. he's freaking out over a prick in your finger from a loose thorn and then killing half the galaxy with just a lightsaber a day later. leave it to him to discard any semblance of responsibility over a paper cut.

AGH im in love with him

.

#anakin skywalker #fanfic #hayden #hayden christensen #star wars #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #fandom #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin imagine #sw anakin #obi wan and anakin #anakin smut #anakin and padme

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/23/2024

listen i got my last job through one of youse on here so weirder things have happened: i got fired bc the nonprofit wasn’t doing so hot. let me know if you have a weird data/database or market/tech research job. i promise my worksona is so so so nice and pleasant to work with. remote only, looking more in the $75k range but can be a bit flexible if it’s a cool enough job, i am in the central time zone of the USA and will not need sponsorship anywhere but DO need the cadillac of healthcare and dental plans. portfolio, publication list, and linkedin with my government name available on request!

listening

both of these are from my sister! this is another FULL ALBUM rec (good lord). The Offline’s album La couleur de la mer is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist, inspired by his long walks in the fog on the French Atlantic coast. a little spacey, a little soul, very sixties/seventies neonoir. i am quite fond of the very first track, Thème de la couleur de la mer.

she’s also sent me a bunch of tiktoks with Perfect (Exceeder) by Mason and Princess Superstar. hell of a goddamn music video for this thing. mid-aughts clubbing music at its finest. stopped me from dissolving into a puddle of emotions on the way to and from the vet today bc it’s too goddamn bouncy to be sad around

reading

im reading a trilogy i want to discuss as a whole whenever the third one comes through as a library hold, and a book by a friend. i do not typically talk about books or fics by friends here bc none of them have ever asked for critique, and i dont want to play favorites or inadvertently miss someone’s work. so here’s a story about porn on Wikimedia, which is the kind of database drama and technical arguments that fascinate me.

given the number of articles from 404 Media i shout about here and elsewhere i really should sign up for their $5/mo subscription tier when i have a steady income again

watching

somehow missed Star Wars Visions 2, their second anthology of weird little shorts. i was not super impressed by the overall storytelling this time around, but it was fun to see them reach out to more global studios and see a wider range of styles. there’s some goddamn incredible stop motion in here.

i particularly enjoyed Journey to the Dark Head, which not only has some interesting fringe Force believers and beliefs but has one of the sickest anime bullshit lightsaber fights in this season. this one is by Studio Mir, most known for the Legend of Korra.

also really liked The Spy Dancer by Studio La Cachette, partly bc it’s incredibly beautiful and i like when Star Wars leans into art nouveau, and partly bc it felt the most like a complete short story. emotional arc and everything! strong beginning middle and end! this IS a really low bar, but a lot of the shorts this season did not have a coherent little story to tell or a strong emotional arc, or fumbled their arc partway through, and were just kind of vibes and animation showcases? nothing necessarily wrong with that, also how i felt about most of the last collection. my expectations are underground for any Star Wars media.

playing

as is tradition i dithered about this section the most. this is more of a What’s Next? planning ramble.

the laptop gets shipped back to my old job today so i will no longer have a working modern computer. i have to dig the switch out and see what’s up. maybe start a whole new run in breath of the wild or whatever the last pokemon game was. i think i also have the sword boyfriend game everyone was up in arms about two years ago? and i think i am somehow part of a switch family plan that lets me have some older games?

this section may look very different in the next ??? amount of time until i get a company laptop again. or finally replace the motherboard on my personal desktop but that sat in my car for several weeks during the heat wave this summer while i did not have an apartment and i am really REALLY afraid to open that box.

oh the free epic game this week is a platformer, a genre i have historically not cared about. godspeed to those of you who do

making

soup bc aldi had alphabet pasta and that jolted me out of myself for long enough i was briefly convinced making alphabet pasta soup would fix me. so i found this recipe while in aldi. despite this not being a very good soup or a very good recipe, i feel a little triumphant bc i now know enough to brown the tomato paste before putting it in the soup. unfortunately i overcooked the pasta. there’s kind of a lot of texture happening here, and i wish i had chopped things finer, but i will probably steal my best friend’s blender tomorrow and blitz some of it down.

it’s edible. im going to eat it all. it will not be going in the rotation

#this one has another album rec and a recipe #what am i becoming #this is also a little bit. Hm. feels weird to write bc i am a little drunk and very out of it #tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

[lex-the-flex]

hii, if you write for luke skywalker, could i have a luke and reader fic where instead of luke fighting the dark troopers alone in the mandolorian season 2, the reader fights with him? they get grogu and he sees reader and grogu cuddled up and having a nap one day and cant help but wonder who pretty she looks with a child especially his child ;)?? thats when he realizes his feelings for her and confesses??

sorry if its too long!!! Totally fine if you dont want to write it but thanks!!

power of two | l.s.

Luke Skywalker x reader

Word Count: 798

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, (heavy) angst, action and violence, and frankly Luke being the best Jedi he can be. 

A/N: Hi @acupnoodle 👋🏻 Thank you for sending in a request and I hope you enjoy!

Your hand started to shake uncontrollably as you removed the hilt of your weapon from the hook on the leather belt attached to your waist. Taking in a staggered breath, you tried to control the giant wave of emotions that were threatening to overtake your core. 

Noticing your sudden sense of peril, Luke pulled his hood up, and stood in front of you. Holding your closed hand in his own, he silently gazed into your eyes. 

“Nothing will happen to you. But I need you to take point, Y/N.” He advised, before letting go of your hand. 

Glancing down at your copper with a few leather straps braided around the base, you knew what you had to do. 

After all, you had the blue lightsaber. 

Taking the charge, you sprinted towards the few Dark Troopers who remained in a corner, twirling your saber to block thier various blaster shots. Slicing the droids in half, you followed Luke’s commands until the hallway seemed to open up into the vacuum of space. 

Placing his hand on your wrist, you both glanced at one another, before a bolt of pain hit your left shoulder. Falling to the ground, Luke took the charge and began pushing away the droids with the Force. Clutching onto your shoulder, your vision became blurry as Luke’s guidance burned into the back of your mind. 

‘Get back up. Always get back up.’ 

Wincing through the pain, you stood from your spot on the floor and trading places with Luke until the two of you reached an elevator. Boarding the elevator, the two of you quickly weaved through the rest of the Dark Troopers without a hitch, but the real challenge was to begin. 

*****

A few days had passed since Grogu came into your life and while it took time, he was starting to warm up to you. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but he loved the energy you brought out in people, especially Luke. While Luke immediately wanted to start training, you wanted to take things slow, starting with healing yourself. 

Grogu admired you from afar as you levitated in the air, just a few inches off the ground, focusing on your powers. Reaching out with the Force, you became acquainted with its healing properties, and the wound on your shoulder disappeared like it never happened. However, reaching this feat of strength weakened your energy, and always made you exhausted. So you proposed a nap to let Grogu get some rest. 

Walking into the makeshift camp that you and Luke had set up just days prior, he slowly stopped at the edge of your tent to discover you and Grogu fast asleep inside. Smiling to himself, his bright blue eyes scanned everything about you. 

From the way you were laying with your hand resting against Grogu’s tiny body, how you were resting comfortably on your side, and you haven’t taken off your boots. Even to the way your chest rose and fell from your calm breathing, you were alive. The sight of you caused something to flutter in Luke’s chest, and it seemed like Grogu had become your child, as well as his child. 

He knew what he had to do next, and this decision was his top priority.

*****

The sun began to set, filling the sky with deep oranges and pinks whilst you followed Luke deeper into the bamboo forest. You could tell he had something up his sleeve, but you had no clue as to what it was. Trailing closely behind him, Luke stopped in a small clearing overlooking the vast green forest beyond the training course that was nearly finished. 

Admiring the view, Luke couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you, enjoying your reaction. Glancing back at him, his gaze fractured through your soul, causing you to catch your breath. 

“What is it?” You ask, feeling your brows slightly furrow. 

“This has been on my mind for a while now. And it’s the only thing I can think about when I’m awake, while I’m sleeping, or with R2. I know the Code controls how we live, but we can act differently. I can be different, I know I am.” Luke explains, inching closer to you, surrounding his palms against your elbows. 

“I know you’re different, Luke. I’m not blind to it and you are one of the best Jedi I’ve ever seen. So what’s wrong?” You replied, soaking in his speech. 

“I love you, Y/N. I always have and I know that we can accomplish the impossible together.” Luke declares, tightening his grip around your elbows.

A smile overtakes your lips as you laugh in relief. Collapsing his arms around you, Luke held you tightly as the sun dipped behind the multiple mountains, knowing that you truly loved him. 

luke skywalker taglist ~ 

@dreamliners

@thefunniestavenger

@full-time-make-believer

@ladyrebel25

@maybeimart

@nonbinary-tatooine

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@tearsleftt

@thereallchristine

@partofmejustwantstosleep

@xxx-aurora-swirls

@remusstefon

@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

@giona45-5

@0paperairplane0

@mrskenobi677

@jobean12-blog

@iamhavingamomenthere-crowley

@winter-soldier-101

@dindjarinishot

@kethamine

@pantaeudaimonia

@bonky-n-steeb

@kindnonny23

@ellora-brekker

@ellabellabus07

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker fanfiction #Luke Skywalker Mandalorian #luke skywalker book of boba fett #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker angst #book of boba fett #the book of boba fett #star wars #star wars fandom #star was fanfiction #mark hamill

[yukipri]

Hello! I'm adoring your wing au and have been thinking about it nonstop. Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into it!

I do have some questions, though it's pretty angsty so I'm guessing it's not actually going to come up in the actual series, but I've been having brainrot and wanted to ask.

What would Rex's wings look like in Star Wars Rebels? Or even directly after Order 66 and the things that followed. Like, would Cody's gold still be there? (I dont know if its canon if Cody is alive at that point or if the color would still be there when hes still under the effect of the chip.) Or would age have turned Rex's wings grey? Or would his wings turn pure blue?

Sorry for the questions, I'm just fascinated by the world building you've done with this au. (And I might be having ideas for fics haha)

Thanks again!

Thanks so much for liking my Take Flight AU!

Wellll, you asked an angsty question so here's an angsty response.

IF the Star Wars main storyline had played out roughly similar to canon, then in Rebels, Rex would not have wings (nor would Wolffe or Gregor).

Because see, the flip side of Jango being the last of his kind, and therefore the clones being the last known Shriek Hawks, means that so long as they have their wings, they are instantly recognizable as clones. Their wings are simply too large and too memorable to disguise. They would be identified as defected clone troopers instantly.

This means that any clone who wishes to defect or go into hiding must cut off their wings. This is the single most physically painful thing a Shriek Hawk can experience, and because their feathers naturally resist being cut through, it must be a completely voluntary decision during which they must force their feathers to relax and accept being cut. Rex asks Ahsoka to do it, and it's the last thing she does with the lightsabers she got from Anakin.

This is going into very grim-dark territory I'm aware, which is why I decided to answer this ask when I otherwise might not have. I've had this alternate story flash forward in my mind for a while, and if I ever put it into the AU it would be in the form of a "vision," much like the vision of Boil mourning Waxer's death. The main story goes slightly different in this AU after all, but it's still interesting to explore canon-verse!

Anyway, if this ever comes up in fic, apologies for spoiling it in this ask, but yeah, that's what happens ^ ^;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

#YukiPri replies #TakeFlightBrothersAll #ammo-never-runs-out-of-knives #Captain Rex #wingfic #winged!clones #well u asked ^ ^;

[spacelizzbian]

S1ep2

Shoutout to that one time in tcw when someone saw a shadow of a Tooka cat and thought it was Ahsoka approaching

Love that the one most concerned about not blowing up is the droid

Ahsoka be like: "Im already dead inside, just do it"

Hm, I am curious about these dark jedi though. Like the girl still has the padawan braid so they actually do follow some of the teachings beyond the lightsaber techniques I imagine. What better narrative foils to Ahsoka than jedi who have also renounced the order but actually turned to the dark. Can't wait for that parallel to get brought up

This whole sequence in Correlia with the shipyard officer feels so much like clone wars. Like idk what exact episode, but a scenario where the heroes are being toured by double crossers definitely happened

Hera just doesn't sound like Hera to me? I feel like Vanessa would deliver these lines differently. Like it's defenitely similar and I could see myself warming up to it, but my inner Hera voice is not lining up with this Hera

Suprisingly, not having that problem much with Ahsoka. I feel like Rosario Dawson is a good fit for adult Ahsoka though I miss Ahsoka's sassy energy. But that has been mostly lost since rebels which makes sense in that she is older and hardened now but it does make me a lil sad.

"These people dont care about politics, just who is paying them" now that is a sentiment I'd love to see explored more since that is not the impression I got from most civilians under the empire who weren't uber rich and powerful but I guess we have Andor for that

Oh Sabine is the one who is not ready eh? 🤔

The more they tell us about Sabine and Ahsoka's dynamic the more I'm vibing to it??

Yes please give me two disasters desperately trying to cope with the loss they've endured by being disasters together.

Huyang really said "yeah your force abilities suck but could be worth a shot eh?" 😂😭

Hera and Huyang seeing these two absolute disasters and trying to get them to reconnect so they hopefully become less of a disaster is so funny to me? They're the real homies

Protocol droids being clueless to nuances going on around them has to be one of my fav plot progression bunnies in star wars

Ahsoka who has bodied inquisitors brutally before: "oh no a double bladed saber oh nooo"

Them shooting at that inquisitor that Ahsoka follows step by step is so silly

If you didn't care that you hit your own dude, just shoot some more at them so you actually hit them or don't at all

Hot take, but I'm gonna miss Sabine's long hair. The reddish orange and purple looked real good

Wish I made a bingo for this show cause "rebels epilogue shot gets remade" would've def been on there lmao

"It's more me" 🥺

I just realised the real threat to Ahsoka in this show is not any force user or Thrawn or whatever.

It's that she's taken on the role of mentor, a dangerous profession to have in any media but especially star wars

"Her determination is vivid" NO WAIT ANAKIN SAID THAT TOO IN TCW S3 FINALE. I LOVE THAT MOMENT 😭

#ashowka #ahsoka #ahsoka spoilers #sabine wren #hera syndulla #huyang #sw #lizzz makes a post

[adidegmez]

sequel movies spoilers

i wrote these when i was watching the movies so they are a little bit messy.

Star wars Force Awakens spoilers

I don't like stormtroopers. I liked the movie but i cant stand seeing stormtroopers, i just cant. (I can't do it after what happened to the clones).

But i liked rey she is a good person like she didn't sell bb8.

a stormtrooper using Anakin Skywalker's and Luke Skywalker's lightsaber. I am not okay with it. Finn might be a good person in the future but for now i don't like him. He just escaped. Thats what he did during the movie.

And Poe. I love him. I love Oscar Isaac. I watched resistance s1 so i knew him and bb8. And i liked them there and here. Their relationship reminds me anakin and r2. And i like them all. They would do anything to save each other.

Han Chewie Leia C3PO R2D2 i love them. They were perfect in here too. If I had watched Star Wars a long time ago, I would have felt more nostalgia. But it still nice nostalgia, i nearly cried. And it hasn't been a month since I've watched the original trilogy.

i didnt like kylo ren. he is crazy(i couldnt find a better word). He resists the light. I am turning to the light help me turn back to dark blah blah...(i dont get it and i didnt like that scene).

I didn't like the idea of ​​their son turning evil. I guess there were different plans for this trilogy, our original trio are trying to bring order to the galaxy. luke was happy han and leia had 3 children and they were all good.(if i am not wrong it is in legends?). ı would've liked it more.

but instead of that we ended up with a stormtrooper. From what I understand, they conditioned the stormtroopers since they were little.

sad but i dont care. that doesnt change the fact that finn lied to poe and rey just to get himself to safety.

han died. he didnt deserve this. han and leia didnt deserve a son like ren.

visuals of the movie was decent. i saw bad things about this trilogy this wasnt too bad but I too would prefer legends story(I suppose) as well.

Newt is in first order🤔

last jedi spoilers

first scene was perfect. it was funny. I love poe.

In the scene where Luke takes the lightsaber, I thought he wouldn't pick it up and throw it, right? yes, yes, he wouldnt. he did.

finn tried to run again. but at least this gave them a good idea.

i like maz (she will probably die). nice, she didnt die.

reys first lesson is funny.

ben solo being their last hope. no. luke is.

yoda...

how did mark hamill let that happen

i thought rose's plan would work too.

i missjudged holdo but. poe. how could ı not trust poe's desicion.

ben solo helped rey. i liked how he killed snoke but they could heve write a better story.

and of course he turned again. well he never turned to the light side he just wanted power. and maybe rey.

they destroyed the lightsaber...

woaw holdo did it. i realised what she was doing at the same time when poe realised. scene was amazing.

there might still be a hope for finn yet(maybe). he acts more decent now. but still i dont like him much.

rose saved finn thats good but why? by saving your loved ones blah blah blah... It would have been more meaningful and better if he had sacrificed herself. well i kinda hated that scene. Maybe it would have been a little better if Rose had at least lived. But if she was going to die anyway, if she sacrificed herself in his place, even one look would be enough instead of the empty words she said during this unnecessary sacrifice. (I thought like this, but she wasn't dead anyways, but it still wasn't good. (I thought, but he wasn't dead anyway, but it still wasn't good. It was done to make Luke's scene. It would have been better without that scene) and dont get me started with the kiss. everyone is at risk because of what you did rose.

luke returned. "no one is ever really gone" thats the man who convinced darth vader. are we supposed to belive the man saying this line tried to kill his student just because he saw his future. i cant belive it.

wow luke it was cool. how did you do that. and he died. (of course) but at least he gave us one last hope. he gave the rebellion hope.

leia is proud of poe they are like mother and son i loved their relationship.

rise of skywalker spoilers

somehow palpatine returned. finally i saw the meme. thats funny.

maul survived why cant palpatine. but they say he died that i dont know. he could have been like maul. survived because of his hatred.

ı didnt see lando coming.

and of course chewie died. no he didnt. chewie is alive.

c3po lost his memory. i think r2 bring some of his memory back?

this trilogy doesnt left many things from the past.

of course hux is the spy. like kallus but kallus was better. he had a story he had a character development he fighted for what he thought was right. hux ... i dont know what else could happen but i didnt like it.

rey is palpatine's granddaughter i already knew it, i saw spoilers before i watched the movie.

and again leia died too. i knew she would die. they will probably kill chewie too. they didnt How nice of them to do that.(!)

han, leia and luke is together again.

poe why. i know finn is your friend but there are better people. more capable and experienced than he is. he was a stormtrooper, come on.

luke returned.

finn you are not a jedi. you cant just launch an attack based on a instinct.

ı am sure palpatine gives power away(!). (he wouldnt imho).

ı didnt like kylo's story it was bad written. why did he turned good? because his mother died?

most of this sequel movies are not wellwritten. i dont hate the actors i liked them but the story was bad so...

in the end rey did kill palpatine. maybe not because of hatred but she did kill him.

is finn a forcewielder?

ben died.

finn didnt even had a proper character development(imo)

rey skywalker. i dont have anything against rey i loved rey. she is good. but i didnt like how she called herself skywalker. like; luke and leia did show up but still something was not right. it would have been better if someone else say that.

voices of jedi past ,

i knew i heard hayden christensen, but they also brought ahsoka and kanan!!!

there maybe things that i didnt understand well because its my firts time finishing star wars but thats my opinions for now.

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars force awakens #Star wars last jedi #star wars rise of skywalker #star wars rey #Star wars poe dameron #luke skywalker #leia organa #han solo #chewbacca #r2d2 and c3po

[ramblebamble]

never thought id be back at this blog again but i needed some place to think... so i guess this is the best place?

it feels... so unfair. i sound like a spoilt kid being angry that they didnt win but i seriously, seriously think its so unfair. there’s no reason we shouldnt have won. second place, even. we definitely deserved second at least. 

i... they copied everything. everyone copied everything from us. we thought of lightsabers, they copied us. we thought about tricks, another one copied us. we thought about a fully-choreographed fight scene, yet another one copied us. we didnt copy them, did we? they thought of guns, we didnt take it. they thought of dialogue, we didnt take it. we didnt take anything from them, so why did they take ours? and why did they win? 

and we practiced so much. we practiced all day, before school, after school, during school, 5 days a week. we spent so long perfecting it, and they just... rolled up 2 hours a week and won? they were good, we knew, they had a winning streak for a reason after all, but... werent we better? werent we more synchronised? didnt our months of training and practice and back pain and tears mean something? it did, right? 

like, i asked everyone about it. friends, teammates, classmates from opposing teams, my parents, everyone. i asked them to give an honest opinion, dont sugarcoat it cause im asking, and they all said we were the best. then why didnt we win? i told them to not lie to me. if they werent lying, then why didnt we win? hell, my brother’s friends, all opposing teams, unprompted, to my brother, not even on the same team as i am, said the same thing: we were the best. then why didnt we win? not even close second? not even second? just second last?

it had to mean something, right? surely we didnt lose just because our outfits and props were handmade. we couldnt even do anything about it. we tried making better costumes and the teachers wouldnt allow it. said we were on a budget, even if it fitted within our already tiny budget. surely we didnt lose because of something we couldnt control, right? i dont know whats worse, all our practice and marching was still not our best, or that our best couldnt do anything against costumes and pretty props that we cant afford. does it feel better to lose knowing we could do better, or lose knowing we did our best and theres nothing we can do about it? that best is not enough?

my captains... they worked so hard. so, so hard. they were crying. everyone was teary-eyed. we worked so hard and it did nothing. they looked so tired yesterday, practicing again and again their choreography. all day long. but they kept going. until they were so tied they couldnt stand properly and they went on. they were trying so hard. did it mean nothing to the teachers? 

i want to be the optimistic one. ive always been That Guy. the guy that cheers everyone up and says theres always next year and we can come back stronger and better. im trying so hard. i havent felt this defeated in years. i... i want to tell someone how i feel. but who wants to hear a sore loser whine about losing? im supposed to be the happy one. the cheerful one. the carefree one. the... strong(?) one. theyre feeling so down. i want them to cheer up. i want to cheer up too. 

does no one know how hard i tried to keep it together? did they know i was near tears and collapsing when my back started burning and i wanted to give up and go to the medics? did they know i stood there in pain for half an hour because i cared about them? did that mean nothing to them? surely that had to mean something. surely those 30 minutes i spent in pain did something to change our scores, right? 

im gonna make my captains keychains to remember me by. maybe cheer them up a bit. maybe ill make them for the whole team. 

im so tired of wiping away my tears every time i think someone’s gonna enter my room. 

[thefanficmonster]

Hidden Powers

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Abuse allegations, Swearing, Mild melancholy

Genre: Humor, SLIGHT Angst, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic) - Sorry the genres are all over the place

Summary: A misconception or misunderstanding turned rumor threatens to bring down Corpse’s entire career, but luckily, Y/N knows better than to stand aside and let it happen.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so sorry for the long wait but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the fic if you happen to come across it. Love, Vy ❤

“Fuck this game!“ Y/N yells out in frustration as she is met with the screen informing her of her failure - aka death - for the fifth time in the past hour. “Has anyone ever even passed night four? I’m sure the king of FNAF Markiplier has but I’m also sure he hasn’t done it one a livestream! And my big mouth really had to go ahead and swear not to end this stream until I pass this God forsaken night, ughhh!“

Typically, Y/N’s quite the fearful rat when playing horror games, especially when home alone like right now, but this FNAF game has gradually turned her into a raging gamer instead. Not raging as in kicking ass at the game but as in the game kicking the ass of her sanity. She’s been struggling with this specific night for a while - the better half of her previous stream and an hour into today’s. Well, seeing how little progress she’s making with each try, it’s gonna be way more than an hour into today’s livestream as well. She’ll be lucky if she manages to get past it before hitting the three hour mark or just rage quitting which she’s bound to do eventually if her gameplay keeps going at this rate.

Another try later, she’s once again jumpscared into a failure screen that’s practically mocking her at this point. Throwing her arms above her head, Y/N sighs heavily, the frustration she’s harboring becoming more and more evident in her body language. “You know what, I need a break. Lemme see what you guys are saying in the chat.”

Scrolling through comments upon comments greeting her, sending her compliments and some trolling her with some hateful remarks she comes across a question which makes her brows furrow. That same question is repeated by a few other people but they fly by so quickly she doesn’t manage to catch the people’s usernames.

“A bruise on my arm? Where?“ She says out loud as she inspects both her arms, looking for what her chat had been talking about. That’s when her eyes eyes land on the purple mark on the skin just above her right elbow. She laughs, “Oh this? I know I’m a clumsy person but Corpse is to blame for this one.“

Little does the girl know, her boyfriend, who’s currently in his own apartment instead of camping out at hers, is watching this very stream, laughing his ass off remembering how that bruise came to be.

His laughter is cut short though when he catches glimpse of Y/N’s chat which suddenly floods with concern from her fans - assumptions and allegations of him being an abusive boyfriend starting to pollute the previously cheerful comment section. His stomach turns, for many reasons, each reason making it tighten in a worse and more painful knot. 

The first blow comes from people actually coming up with such a thing. How could they even allow their minds to wander to such a dark and disgusting place where he’d be even remotely an abuser.

The second blow to his heart is delivered by the fact that people believed it. How and why could people believe such an absurd idea?! How low did these people think of him? What kind of piece of shit did he come off as to some people?

And the third is the mental image the idea gives him. It’s such a fucked up scene, he can’t even conjure it up, he can’t mentally picture it. Hell, he could and would never even raise his voice at Y/N. He’d never dare upset her or hurt her feelings let alone hurt her....like that!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!“ Y/N’s gasp reaches him as though it was meant to fish him out of the downward spiral he started going down with these overwhelmingly dark thoughts, “What’s with this nonsense some of y’all are spewing in the chat?!“ She sounds downright angry and irritated, ready to fight whoever will continue spreading these rumors about her lovely boyfriend whom she absolutely adores. “Guys, I mean, seriously?! Do you have any idea what you’re talking about and WHO you’re talking about? Do we have the same Corpse in mind here? I doubt we do - you have some villainized, abusive version, and I have the loving boyfriend who tried to teach me how to handle a lightsaber so we can have a lightsaber fight and my dumbass used my own weapon against me. Yeah, I was pretty salty Corpse laughed his heart out while I was cringing in pain, but man, you guys take it farther than the farthest.“ Seeing his sweet, kind and non-confrontational girlfriend who always avoids conflict at all costs turn into this protective lioness because someone is talking shit about him is heartwarming and scary at the same time. “Y’all better shut the hole where these fucked up rumors surfaced from before you get one of the most innocent, loving and caring individuals in hot water for the BS you came up with! Copy? You better.“

Corpse has never in his entire life seen the topic of a stream chat change so quickly, the rumor never once getting brought up again.

That’s some serious power right there - power he never knew Y/N possessed because of her cute and soft exterior. Now he knows what kinda beast of a woman he’s dating - one prepared to do anything to protect him, no matter who from. And damn does that make him feel emotional and loved despite the shit that just happened. She can make him forget all the bad within the blink of an eye - that too is another superpower of hers, but this one he’s known about from the very start.

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[jangofctts]

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy 

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.  

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn​ THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are. 

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that? 

Not much, as it so happens. 

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding— 

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail. 

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought. 

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in. 

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.            

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics. 

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…  

So you ran. 

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.    

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.  

Maker—how did everything become so tangled? 

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out. 

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift. 

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.  

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.     

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground. 

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.  

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and— 

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. 

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving. 

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”       

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.   

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz. 

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now. 

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.      

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”  

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.  

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.  

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”   

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.   

“No more bounties.” 

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.  

“No more hunts alone—“  

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.” 

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.  

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”   

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”    

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”    

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire. 

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. 

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails. 

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”    

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.   

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.   

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.  

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.    

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble. 

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.      

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night. 

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over. 

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits. 

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.  

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.  

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.   

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.    

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you. 

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”       

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow. 

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—  

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.” 

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.  

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.       

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”  

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.        

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.   

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.   

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.     

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.   

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous. 

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”  

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh. 

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?” 

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”    

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers. 

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling. 

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal. 

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“ 

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.       

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.   

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.  

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.  

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.  

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you. 

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now. 

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"  

He continues without missing a beat. 

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck.  “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity. 

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.    

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly. 

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.   

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.   

Maker you hate this fucking planet—   

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up. 

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.           

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”    

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.      

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar— 

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.    

You were right. 

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand. 

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”     

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.   

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants. 

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought. 

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath. 

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.  

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.  

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward. 

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance. 

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.          

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.  

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs 

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips. 

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.” 

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up. 

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you. 

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.           

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.” 

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. 

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.  

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.      

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.    

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.     

Another time for that game maybe. 

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you. 

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.” 

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.  

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.  

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works. 

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.      

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.” 

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind. 

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.  

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things. 

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim. 

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss. 

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue. 

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?” 

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.            

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent. 

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.   

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” 

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches. 

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.         

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been. 

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#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

[intergalactic-padawan]

inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

x

.

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

.

x

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

#ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #inquisitor!reader

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Omega

-a short Hunter drabble but its about Omega and the usual "we cant take care of a kid"

Y/n sat on the surface of the planet, the plains surrounding her as her lightsaber sat infront of her.

Omega snuck around behind her, making sure not to be see, she climbing on the large tree that hung over Y/n's head.

Omega managing to not alert the Jedi as a smuggled, but freed loth cat came roaming by, taking a seat infront of Y/n as her eyes were closed and her head was down.

"I know you are there young one."

Omega sighed, "How'd you find me!"

"I am a jedi after all. You're not all to bad at stealth." Y/n spoke with a small smile on her lips.

Raising her head she opened her eyes, each a diffrent color as Y/n smiled, "come down now."

"Okay."

Omega did as asked carely making her way down as Y/n watched the young girl run over.

"What are you doing?" Omega asked.

"Meditation." Y/n smiled.

Omega took a seat next to her, "Isn't that borning?"

"Yes." Y/n spoke.

"Then why do it-"

"And no."

Omega kept quiet as she looked down at the saber, Y/n had gone back to meditating the Loth cat by her side.

"I've never met a Jedi besides you." Omega spoke out.

"Im honored to be the first one." Y/n spoke.

"Are all the light swords Orange?" Omega asked.

"That is a complicated question." Y/n responsed, "You could say Im not even a Jedi."

"I thought Jedi only carried lightsabers."

"Anyone can carry a lightsaber." Y/n told opening her eyes looking at the blonde.

"So. I can carry one?" She questioned.

"Well yes you could." Y/n answered.

"Can I?"

"Well you'd have to find one first."

"How do I do that!" Omega asked happily, she could finally get her own weapon.

"Well find a kyber crystal and when you find that, we'll talk." Y/n offered.

"How do I find that?" Omega questioned.

Y/n kept quiet the animal jumping into her lap and up onto her shoulder, "Oh I dont know."

"You don't know!?" Omega asked confused, "but you have one- right?"

"Well no," y/n responded, "I have a diffrent crystal. But I do suppose they're found the same way."

"And that way is?"

"A voice."

Omega groaned as Y/n laughed lightly, the young girl falling into her lap.

Hunter walked up the hill, he went to retrieve the two women of there squad.

He stood atop the hill directly across from there's, he spotted Omega sitting next to Y/n just to fall into her lap dramatically as Y/n's soft laugh could be heard. Hunter smiled watching as Omega sat back up, talking to the young woman as the loth cat rested on Y/n's shoulder.

It was good, Omega deserved some type of mother-someone who had patients unlike him at times and the boys.

"Hunter!"

Breaking from his thoughts he looked at Omega who stood up, Y/n at her side as the young girl waved, Y/n with a smile on her face. Walking over to the two Omega smiled at him.

"Y/n said If I find a Kyber crystal I could have a lightsaber! I just have to find one first!" Omega smiled.

"Good luck finding one of those." Hunter spoke, "Wreckers back on the ship with food, go get some."

Omega nodded as she ran off to go see Wrecker, Hunter and Y/n standing under the tree in the shade.

"I appreciate you talking to Omega as often as you do." Hunter spoke.

"It's no problem." Y/n smiled, Hunter rubbing the back of his neck.

"Isnt it lovely?" Y/n asked as Hunter looked out into the feild with her.

"There's nothing out here." Hunter spoke.

"Thats the beauty in it." Y/n responded, "Nothing can come from everything, but everything can come from nothing."

"I dont understand."

"You dont have too." Y/n smiled, "just. Believe-"

"In the force?" Hunter asked.

"In your self, and your little one." Y/n told him.

Hunter kept quiet, looking down as he tried to think about his next words carefully- she intruppted his thoughts, a strand of his long hair in the way as she pushed it back and out of his face, her hand then running on his cheek and to his chin, pushing his face up lightly.

She smiled at him, "I know what your thinking Hunter...shes in the right place."

"We're just not cut out to have a kid-"

"No one is." She spoke, leaning down she kissed his lips softly,they were soft kisses wrapped up into one big one.

She pulled away softly.

"I. Uh...'Hunter tried to speak, his sense both calm and crazy at the same time.

Y/n kept her same calm and collected smile and walked away, her hand dragging from his shoulder and diagonally across his chest and off his body as she walked away.

#the bad batch hunter #star wars hunter #drabble #the bad bad batch #star wars: the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch omega #hunter x reader

[pawprinterfanfic]

All That Remains #2? Which scene was your favorite to write

Heyyyyyyy nonny. This was such a fun question omg. Thank you!!!

2. Which scene was your favorite to write in [title of fic]?

UHHHH OH NO. I DONT KNOW. ITS SO HARD TO PICK!!! I will list three that come to mind :))

Alex using his lightsaber for the first time. This is a scene I debated on including for a LONG LONG time. Like. VERY LONG. I kept cutting it, rewriting, inserting, rinse & repeat. But the image of Alex using his lightsaber for the first time - with Willie’s jumpsuit tied around his waist - was just... too good not to include.

I really like the fake dating scene in front of Willie’s boss - that was fun. The whole “honey” and kiss on the cheek and Alex being at a loss for words? SO FUN. And the resulting conversations (”I prefer my love, actually”) are also a fun bonus.

Alex vs Luke. THIS IS ONE SCENE THAT I WAS !!!!!!!! ABOUT. It was one of the first things I remembered coming up with for the fic and I was counting down the chapters until I could write it. Just... Alex sacrificing himself for Willie.... Alex ready to fight the red blade... Alex rolling down a mountain uncontrollably.... Alex kicking Luke in the face....... The Reveal..... good times, good times. (Plus, the Julie moment in this chapter makes me GIDDY!!!!!)

I also am really looking forward to a lot of scenes. I have a few pre-written scenes that I can’t talk about because they come later and AH. They were so fun to write. I’m excited to post them.

Come send me a question about fics!

#ask #answered #anonymous #all that remains #jatp fanworks appreciation week #jatp #THANK YOU ANON #this was lots of fun to think of #i am willing to give a hint for one of the future scenes... if anyone is interested........

[padawanlost]

Hi, I dont read alot (of books) but I was just wondering, did Anakin/vader ever see people he helped/freed (during his time as a jedi) being oppressed by the empire. Did he feel pity or sorrow for them? Or had he totally unplugged from those emotions at that point ?

No. Anakin was to broken to feel sorry for anyone but himself. People have this idea of Vader being a sadistic monster who thrived on the suffering he caused but the truth is he was too lethargic to care. He didn’t stay with Palpatine out enjoyment or even loyalty. He stayed because he had nowhere else go, no one else to be with.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself … It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith— Because now your self is all you will ever have. And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the *shadow* who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself— And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever … [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

What Vader appeared to be  - no fucks given BAMF – were very different from what he truly was: Palpatine’s slave. Vader, once you get to know him, is not a scary monster. He’s a quite pathetic and hopeless man.

He wasn’t a sadistic control freak like Palpatine and he didn’t *enjoy* hurting people he didn’t feel deserve to be hurt but he was too damaged and broken to do anything about it. he kind of just went with it.

In one of the comics, he has to face the truth that the Empire is enslaving people and he is upset about it. but he does nothing because there's nothing left in him. for him to pity them, he’d have to empathize with them and that’s something he couldn’t afford to do. He was too trapped in his own private little hell to feel bad for people.

Again the smile or snarl from his Master. “You were a traitor, were you not, Lord Vader?” Vader’s breathing caught on the hook of sudden anger. “What did you say?”

 “To the Jedi. To Padmé. To Obi-Wan. To all those you loved.” His Master turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting the flames. 

Vader didn’t know the answer his Master wanted to hear, so he simply answered with the truth. “Yes.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

If he couldn’t even care enough to defend himself from his master abusive behavior, I doubt he’d ever care enough to pity a stranger.

When it comes to Vader’s apathetic, one of the best examples I can think of is his ‘relationship’ with Drua. In one of the books, Vader and Palpatine are stranded. They run into a girl and Vader saves her life:

“Come here, girl,” the Emperor said, putting the power of the Force into his command. Unable to resist, the girl walked out of the tree line until she stood, small and vulnerable, before him. With preternatural speed the Emperor drew, ignited, and slashed at the girl with his lightsaber, but Vader had sensed his Master’s intent and moved with greater speed, igniting his own blade and intercepting his Master’s blow before it could land. The girl, under the sway of the Emperor’s power, seemed scarcely to notice the danger. She simply stood there, staring vacantly, her face aglow in the red light of the crossed blades. The Emperor’s mouth twisted in a snarl, and Vader felt his power gathering. Behind Vader, Deez raised his rifle and aimed it at Vader’s back, but Vader stretched his free hand back and unleashed a blast of power that lifted the guardsman from his feet and flung him into the trees. Branches cracked audibly under the impact of Deez’s body. Vader and his Master stared at each other across the sizzling glow of their crossed blades. “Has it come to this?” his Master said. He sounded calm, almost resigned, but not at all surprised. The tone surprised Vader. “Forgive me, Master,” he said, and deactivated his blade. “I think the girl can be of use to us.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The girl, Drua, takes them to very home and does everything she can to help them. After everything was said and done, Palpatine orders Vader to kill her and everyone in her village. And Vader does it. Not because he wants it. but because he’s too apathetic to care. Too trapped in his toxic relationship with Palpatine to see things for what they really were.

“There’s work for that yet, my friend,” the Emperor said, nodding at the hilt of Vader’s blade.

 “Master?”

 “The villagers, Lord Vader. Drua and her people. We can’t allow so many witnesses to live. I’ll wait for you here.” 

Vader looked from his Master to the dark mouth of the mine inside of which Drua and the rest of the villagers had fled. He felt the Emperor’s eyes on him, the intensity of the gaze, the weight of his expectations, and Vader knew that the day’s events had been only half about depleting a rebel movement before it could grow. They had also, as Vader had suspected, been about testing him, forcing him to face the ghosts of his past and exorcise them forever and fully. He saw that more clearly now; saw, too, that his Master was right to administer the test. It also explained why his Master had shown so little of his true power throughout the day. Perhaps he’d wanted Vader to rely on himself to overcome the challenges they’d faced. Or perhaps he’d wanted to seem weaker than he was, to draw out any treacherous ambitions Vader may have held. “I hear and I obey, Master,” Vader said. He ignited his lightsaber and strode toward the cave, his mind drifting back to another day, a day when he strode into the Jedi Temple filled with nothing but younglings. He’d slaughtered them then, and he would slaughter the Twi’leks now. His Master’s laughter followed him into the cave, and it lingered in his mind, louder even than the screams of the Twi’leks as they began to die by his blade. When it was done, he returned to his Master’s side. “Well done, old friend,” Darth Sidious said. He wiped his hands, as if to clean them of dirt. “And now let’s move on to more important things.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The only time Vader cared enough to influence his behavior was with Luke. All the other times, there were a glimpse of something – of the old Anakin – like when he saw C3PO or even Ahsoka. But not enough for him empathize with people.

Qui-Gon had a interesting theory about this. He believed Anakin – to survive – had to bury that side of him so Vader could exist. An Anakin who cares cannot be Vader. He buried all the good things about Anakin.

“Master, is Darth Vader Anakin?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. “Although the Anakin you and I knew is imprisoned by the dark side. […]The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

As terrible as life as Vader is, facing Anakin Skywalker’s decisions and living with them would be much, much harder. That’s why only when Luke demonstrated his unconditional love that Anakin allowed himself to reemerge.

Vader saw his son crying, and knew it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beheld. It intensified, momentarily, Vader’s own sense of anguish—to his crimes, now, he added guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brought him to mind of the way he used to look—striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he’d looked once. And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend … and how that friendship had turned. Turned, he knew not how—but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until … hold. These were memories he wanted none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back … no. This boy had pulled him from that pit—here, now, with this act. This boy was good. The boy was good, and the boy had come from him—so there must have been good in him, too. He smiled up again at his son, and for the first time, loved him. And for the first time in many long years, loved himself again, as well.  [James Kahn. Return of the Jedi]

Vader didn’t hate the world. He hated himself.

And because of that he bury everything that was remotely good and positive about himself as deep as he could. So his behavior, his lack of empathy wasn’t about him being sadistic. He was simply too broken and trapped in a deeply abusive relationship to care for the world around him.

#ask #anon #anakin skywalker #sw meta #darth vader #meta: anakin #txt