#Star Wars fan fic

[againstacecilia]

Because You Left

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: This one's for anybody, but the whole blog is 18+ for sure.

Warnings: Lovers to strangers, fighting, angst, swearing, both of them are probably idiots but *shrug*

A/N: Holy wow it's been a minute! I've had this one in the vault for a while but just never did anything with it. There's a happy ending as well, so I can post that if there's interest, but I'm pushing myself to not tie everything up so nicely and let the tough emotions sit so you get ✨angst✨. We also don't need to talk about how I'm working through some things about an old flame with this one soooo hush. Unbeta'd, no use of y/n.

It’s an unusually quiet night on base, lamplight flickering through the hallways and muffled laughter sneaking under doors as people take advantage of the stillness. Your footsteps echo loudly, an intrusion in the calm as you hurry to your post, breathless by the time you arrive.

“Sorry I’m late,” you begin, not looking at your watch partner, “I couldn’t find-”

“Not like you to be late, Captain,” a familiar voice interrupts.

Your stomach flops as you meet Poe’s gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Commander.” Your words falter, the memory of your last encounter momentarily clouding your mind…

“Find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” Poe says quietly at the door, not looking at you, “I’m busy.”

“Of course you are. Seems like you’ve been busy a lot these days. Busy with everything but finding time for me.”

Poe doesn’t say anything as he turns his back to you, pressing the button to close the door to his quarters. The click of the door sliding into place echoes deep in your bones as you’re left alone in the hallway…

That was months ago. You’d immediately requested a service change to a new squadron and done everything in your power to avoid seeing him again. Night shifts and dangerous recon runs, anything to make sure your paths never crossed again. 

“No need to apologize, I won’t tell anyone.” Poe winks at you with a grin. “So, it’s been a while, how have you been?”

Shaking the memory from your mind, you begin preparing for your watch. “Fine. You?”

“I’ve been okay.” He watches you gather your things, eyes trained on your every move.

“Mmm,” you respond non-committedly, shoving a flashlight and spare battery pack for your blaster into your bag before tugging the straps over your shoulders. “Well, I should be off. Being late and all.”

“Actually, we should be off. Your shift buddy called out so I’m his replacement.”

Fantastic. “Commander Dameron on night patrol?”

“Everyone pitches in where they’re needed,” he responds, hoisting his pack. 

Six hours on watch with Poe was the last thing you wanted to do, but he was right. Everyone was expected to, and for the most part did, pitch in where they were needed. If this was how you were expected to help the Resistance then you’d grit your teeth and get through it. 

“Let’s get going then.” You’re out the door and making your way to the watchtower before he can reprimand you for speaking to your superior like that. 

Luckily, the calm seems to be holding and the watchtower is nearly serene in the clear night. Stars twinkle above you in constellations you were still learning and the breeze was a song you never tired of. Lost in the ebb and flow of nature around you, you don’t notice the time pass.

Poe’s voice breaks the silence for the first time in hours. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, keeping your eyes on the wilderness beyond the base.

“What happened? With us?” 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and the breeze seems to stop at the question. Like the whole base was waiting on bated breath for your response. “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.”

You hear Poe shift in his seat. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

“What do you want me to say, Poe?” “I want you to look at me and tell me the truth.”

“I told you the truth.” Your clipped response is bitter on your tongue and you keep your body facing away from him. “We grew apart and the war got in the way of everything else.”

“This isn’t just some distance thing, tell me what happened.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“You’re still not telling me the truth. I know you, why did you suddenly-”

“Because you left!” The words rip out of you and you finally stand, whirling around to face him. “Because you left me, Poe.”

Indignation blazes across his face. “I never left you, not any longer than a mission required of me!”

“That’s not what I mean!” Both your voices are too loud for the quiet watch, but you don’t care. Emotions flare and dance in your veins, demanding to be released. “You stopped giving a damn and then kicked me out of your room and told me you were busy. You stopped fighting for me. For us. You left one day and never really came back.”

The silence seems to echo as your words fade from the lone tower, open to the night sky. “I’d been trying for weeks at that point, Poe, and you kept pushing me away. So I stopped trying because you obviously didn’t want me around!”

“When have I ever said I don’t want you around?” He’s also standing, stepping into your orbit with his hands extended to his sides.

“You didn’t have to say it.” Stomping away from him to the rail of the tower, you lean against the weathered wood, “It was painfully clear.”

He follows you and grips your shoulders, spinning you to face him. “I’ve been out of my damn mind trying to be a leader in all of this. You know what Leia expects of me, you know what’s at stake-”

“Of course I do!” You shake his hands off you and push him away, “But I thought it would be exactly because of those reasons that you’d give a fuck about me. I thought, for a moment, that I was one of those things you were fighting for.”

“You were! You still are, and you always have been!”

“Just stop.” Your voice is trembling with rage and pain; searing white flames lick through the marrow of your bones. “Whether you meant to or not, you made it very clear where your priorities are and I’ve made my peace with the fact that this,” a sweeping gesture to the sleeping base below, “is your priority. Not me. And I shouldn’t be. I mean, hell, what am I compared to the entire Resistance?”

Needing to put any amount of distance between you, you make your way to the other side of the tower and settle into a chair, facing away from Poe. The noise from the breeze and insects comes back into focus as you curl your legs against your chest. 

After a moment, Poe’s voice reaches you from across the tower, “Do you know why I told you I was busy that night? Why I told you to go sleep somewhere else?”

You don’t respond, hugging your legs tighter as the anger starts to fizzle into sadness.

“I told you to leave because Leia had informed me that we had just lost an entire squadron to an ambush in the Mid-Rim. I had gotten some intel that there was going to be an unprotected shipment of weapons in the area and that group was sent out to get them. It was a trap, and my bad information got them all killed.” Poe stayed away from you through his explanation, his voice drifting by more quietly with each word. “None of them made it home. Because of me.”

The urge to go to him, to wrap him in your arms and comfort him, nearly overwhelms you for a moment before he continues. “I told you to leave because I didn’t want you, of all people, to see me break. I shattered that night, and when the sun rose and I realized that I’d made a huge mistake, you had already transferred and I didn’t see you again for weeks.”

Silent tears fall from your eyes at his admissions; the truths he laid in front of you. “So I let you go,” he whispers, “because it felt like some sort of karmic justice to lose you for what happened to those fighters.”

You find your voice again and say, “I’m sorry about the mission, I didn’t know… But that doesn’t make any of this better. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you didn’t even try.”

“You haven’t let me try.” His quiet voice begins to turn to ice.

“How was I supposed to know you even wanted to? You knew where my quarters were, you have access to all my orders; you could’ve come talk to me at any time and yet you didn’t.”

Heavy footsteps move away toward the edge of the tower. Without turning, you can picture his face in the starlight: his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, muscles in his jaw and neck jumping as he clenches his teeth. “You said I didn’t try. That I made it obvious I didn’t want you around. Well, Captain,” he spits your rank into the night, “you made it pretty clear as well that you didn’t want to be near me. Switching squads and dodging me at every turn.”

“You have no right-” you begin, but Poe cuts you off.

“I have every right!” His yell echoes off the gently rolling hills surrounding the base. “I have every damn right when you throw accusations in my face like this. You wanna talk about someone leaving or giving up? How about we talk about how all it took was one bad night for me for you to completely push me away?”

Rage begins simmering in your gut again, bringing you to your feet and back across the tower. “You never gave me any indication that you were dealing with more than the normal amount of stress. I tried everything I could to ease that stress for you; bringing you food when you were drowning in paperwork in your room, letting you fuck me every night even when you couldn’t look me in the eye, ignoring every red flag just to try and prove to you that I was there through it all. And it was never enough.”

“Well, I guess that’s our answer, then.” Poe keeps his gaze locked with yours, eyes gleaming with fury and sadness.

Your heart shatters. “I… I guess it is.”

“I’ll send someone else up here.” Poe lingers for a heartbeat, fists clenched at his side, before turning and heading down the stairs, leaving you alone. 

You stare out over base, watching Poe’s form disappear from view in the night, each step a death knell in your bones. Any future you daydreamed about fades with each passing breath. By the time Poe’s replacement makes it up the tower, the early morning wind has dried your tears and frozen a thick casing of ice around your heart.

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fan fiction #poe dameron fan fic #poe dameron imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fan fiction #star wars fan fic

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

Writing exercise

I wanted to have some fun and do a little writing exercise, so I've written some short disjointed flashes of a perhaps larger fic, inspired by this prompt list.

I'll be posting one a day for the next fifteen days.

The Sith

"I have dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist," the Sith whispered against his ear, sending a tingle down his spine in anticipation.

When a hot mouth sucked his earlobe in, biting none too gently, he gasped in pained pleasure, writhing against the strong body that held him trapped between it and the cold wall.

A moan escaped him at the sensation of a well-trimmed beard brushing the sensitive skin on his neck, but he refused to give in too easily and he managed to force out, "maybe if you ask really nicely I can make your dream come true."

"Oh, darling," came the purring reply, "you know our little game better than that, you'll be the one begging at the end."

2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

#star wars #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #sith obi wan #jedi anakin #fanfiction #writing exercise #flash fic #fanfic #star wars fan fic #flash fiction #The Sith #for fun #writing #implied smut

[skellymom]

WRITER'S WALL OF FAME #2

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#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #tbb hunter #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #the bad batch fan fic #tbb fan fic #the bad batch fan fiction #tbb fan fiction #star wars fan fic #star wars fan fiction #reader x the bad batch #reader x star wars #clones #the clone wars #clone thirsting

[chopper-base]

TBB Reverse!AU

Chapter one is finished!!! Still haven't figured out a name for this series, so I'll take any suggestions yall have!!

Summary: Crosshair and Echo watch the rest of their team succumb to the chip's control.

Warnings: Character death, canon character death, violence, canon divergence, alternate universe

WC: 2591

---------------

Crosshair didn’t know what to think when he turned to see the regs firing at their Jedi General. Over the sound of blaster fire, he could hear her voice screaming at her padawan to run. Her terror-filled voice sent shivers down the sniper's spine. The Padawan was running in their direction but skidded to a stop when he noticed them in front of him. The Padawan looked at the Bad Batch in fear, taking a shaky step back before turning and disappearing into the snowy woods.

Crosshair looked between the regs running toward the batch and the woods where the kid disappeared, trying to figure out what had caused the regs’ sudden turn.

The realization that Tech was reading something off his datapad had Crosshair snapping his attention back to his brother. Tech explained that General Grievous had been defeated, marking the end of the war. “The com channels are repeating one directive.” Tech’s demeanor changed as he read the next line, “Execute Order 66.”

The moment the words left Tech’s mouth, Crosshair knew something was wrong. He watched as everyone but Echo stiffened. Hunter’s sharp eyes growing eerily distant.

“We need to go after the kid,” Echo broke the strange silence, pointing to where the padawan had disappeared, “He’s gonna get himself killed out there alone!”

Hunter glared at Echo, causing the Corporal to take a step back. “The kid is a jedi. The order includes him,”

“The order??” Echo’s eyes were wide with shock, “Hunter! He’s a kid! We don’t even know what the ‘order’ is!”

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

A pause. Echo’s confused and pleading eyes stared back at Hunter’s distant ones before the Sergeant turned towards where the kid had vanished. “...what?”

Following the trail of small footsteps through the snow, Hunter ignored the ARC. Not another word was uttered as Tech and Wrecker followed behind him, holding their weapons at ready. Echo watched them go, turning towards Crosshair, who hesitantly followed the others.

Before Crosshair could go any further, Echo grabbed his arm desperately. “Crosshair, I know you guys don’t work with the Jedi almost ever, but come on! It’s a kid!!”

Crosshair nodded. “Believe me, I know. Something’s… off. Hunter would never-“

Blaster fire echoed through the mountain range. Crosshair whipped his head around, looking down towards the woods before back up at Echo. Not a word was exchanged as both immediately took off down the snowy slope after their brothers.

The blaster fire stopped as they got closer. Crosshair’s breath caught in his throat as they spotted the rest of the batch. At Hunter’s feet lay the motionless body of the padawan, four blaster burns decorating the young boy’s chest. His eyes were open, but their light was long gone. His round, childish features were frozen in an expression of permanent fear.

The Padawan’s lightsaber was clenched in Hunter’s fist, helmet concealing all emotions on his face. Crosshair could see in the Sergeant’s body language, there was not an ounce of guilt or regret.

Everything about his brothers was wrong. Wrecker was silent, not a single joke or quip escaping his lips. Through the clear visor of Tech’s helmet, Crosshair could see how distant his eyes were, fixed on his datapad, not sparing a glance at the small body at his feet.

The regs were getting closer. Crosshair could hear their boots crunching in the snow behind him, but his eyes refused to leave the boy, smoke still rising from his wounds. His brothers had just murdered a child and the only one who seemed to care at all was Echo.

“We’ve been ordered back to Kamino.”

Crosshair tore his eyes away from the child to glare at Tech. There was no emotion behind his words, no Tech explanation, just orders. Hunter barely acknowledged Tech before walking back up the slope, ignoring Crosshair and Echo all together as he passed. Tech and Wrecker were quick to follow, their steps oddly in sync as they followed their Sergeant.

Crosshair spared a glance back at the young padawan, now being moved by the regs, before nodding at Echo to follow him. Staying further back from the other three, Crosshair and Echo fell into step beside each other.

“Something is seriously wrong with them, Cross,” Echo whispered harshly.

Crosshair studied his brothers as they walked, their movements seemingly not their own. “I know. It’s all wrong,” Very, very wrong.

They continued to follow Hunter at a distance throughout the trek back to the Marauder. Crosshair could feel the uneasy feeling radiating from the ARC that was still in step with the sniper.

When they reached the Marauder, Crosshair climbed the ramp behind Echo, his feet barely hitting the top step before Tech started to raise them. On any other day, Crosshair would have made some snarky comment about waiting for him to be inside before shutting the ramp, or even just an annoyed huff and a glare. Today? Crosshair didn’t even bother to look in Tech’s direction, making his way directly to his bunk. He sat down, keeping his Firepuncher in his hands and ignoring the helmet still on his head. He didn’t want his brothers to see the concern that he was sure was all over his face. He knew his brothers; he knew them better than they knew themselves. Whoever was sitting in the cockpit, were not his brothers.

Not even two weeks ago, Crosshair had watched Hunter almost get himself killed trying to protect a kid. He refused to believe that he had just witnessed that same brother murder a child for treason of all things.

That kid couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Why was he even on a battlefield to begin with?

Crosshair could understand a few Jedi committing treason. They had heard of the massacre on Umbara, a Jedi General who pulled just the right strings to trick two battalions to fire upon each other. Hundreds of regs had been murdered for no other reason than Krell finding power hungry satisfaction in their deaths. Apparently Captain Rex had asked the ex-general why he did it and his answer had simply been ‘because I can’.

Crosshair never cared for the regs, but reading that report had his stomach churning. They weren’t even supposed to have access to those reports, but Tech had gotten curious, hacking in and retrieving the reports in a matter of minutes. They had made sure to delete them when Echo had joined, not needing the ARC knowing the horror his late twin had gone through without him.

Crosshair honestly wouldn’t have batted an eye if they had just gone after the Jedi Council. He could count on one hand how many times they had worked with a Jedi, Skywalker being the only one that Crosshair tolerated, but for them to be ordered to murder the padawans? Something extremely screwed up was happening and whatever it was, was coming directly from the top of command.

Crosshair felt as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, leaving him to assume they had arrived back on Kamino. He sighed, forcing himself to stand before making his way to the cockpit. The room was eerily silent as Tech piloted the Marauder towards Tipoca City, his normal fast maneuvers nowhere to be seen. Crosshair hated the way the ship barely rocked as they landed, all Tech’s movements almost droid like.

Echo sat in the co-pilot’s seat, his helmet still secure on his head. Hunter and Wrecker also still wore their helmets, and for once, Crosshair missed the ruckus that was supposed to be their normal.

Hunter exited the Marauder, Wrecker and Tech falling in step as they made their way down the ramp. Crosshair stopped beside the door, waiting for Echo to exit before he followed. Crosshair was the first to notice the hover gurney, a sheet pulled over what was clearly a body being guided across the hanger. He watched as a lightsaber rolled off the gurney, clanging against the metal floor, rolling to a stop at the feet of a reg.

The colors of the surrounding armor caught the sniper’s attention, confusion overtaking him as he spotted the scarlet red of the Corrie Guard. The other companies made sense being here, but seeing the Guard on Kamino made the pit in Crosshair’s stomach sink deeper.

Wordlessly, he continued to follow his brothers through the white halls of Tipoca city; the corridors filled with more troopers than Crosshair had ever seen on Kamino at once.

The batch came to an abrupt stop as Hunter held up his fist. “We’ve got company,” he stated almost coldly. He turned around, the rest of the batch doing the same, quickly spotting their tail.

A small girl stood behind them, waving at the batch, a smile decorating her face. “Hi! I’m Omega!”

Crosshair glanced at Hunter, gauging his reaction as the child introduced herself, his face giving nothing but annoyance. The Sergeant didn’t bother replying to the child, signaling the batch to follow as he began to walk away. The look that came over the girl’s face as Hunter turned away from her had the sniper sneering at the Sergeant.

Echo looked at her with a look of sympathy, offering her a forced smile, “Sorry, kid. We’ve had a rough day. Just… don’t take it personally,”

The girl returned his smile. The look of betrayal on her face stabbed the sniper. He didn’t know who this kid was, but it was evident this child had been excited to meet them, and Hunter barely gave the poor girl a glance.

Echo turned and began to follow the rest, but Crosshair couldn’t help but stare at the girl a little longer. She met his gaze, something in her eyes sending a wave of calm over him. He couldn’t bring himself to return her smile, but he nodded to her, “Stay out of trouble, kid,”

That seemed enough for her, her smile growing just a bit brighter. She waved to him as he turned to catch up with the rest of his brothers.

Something about her was familiar, like he knew, but he couldn’t place it. Her smile burned into his mind, her look of innocence as she introduced herself, the look of betrayal as his brothers cast her off as nothing. He couldn’t get her out of his head, he knew he would likely run into her again, and for a reason Crosshair couldn’t place, he looked forward to it.

—-----------

The Empire. That’s what the republic had now become. A galaxy wide empire with one man sitting at the top, in charge of it all. The thought of a single man being the voice of reason and law didn’t sit well with the sniper. The war was finally finished, yet somehow, Crosshair knew the fight was far from over.

Crosshair began to notice the difference in the regs’ behavior as well, seeming almost as though their minds weren’t their own. Regs never got along with the batch. Insults being thrown their way was just the way of life with the batch when they were on Kamino, but the regs acted as though the batch didn’t exist.

Crosshair eventually found himself in the mess hall, his brothers silently eating around him. He absently stared at the food on his tray, his appetite practically nonexistent. The sniper hadn’t expected much to happen during their meal, seeing as the regs had been weirdly ignoring, but the last thing he expected was a small body sitting to his right. Crosshair looked to see the girl again, smiling up at him as she set her tray beside his. She looked around at the rest of the batch waving, her bright smile still plastered on her face. The only one who paid her any mind was Echo, offering the girls a small smile, and a slightly confused sounding ‘hello’. She looked back at the sniper, her smile now slightly saddened.

“You are aware, sitting with us might attract some unwanted attention?”

The girl’s smile didn’t waver. “But I want to sit with you so I don’t care what they think,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Crosshair tried and failed to hide the small smile that flashed across his lips. “What are you doing on Kamino, anyway?”

The girl shrugged, “I’ve been here all my life,”

Crosshair looked at her in confusion, “All your-?” The voice of a reg behind him had him stopping mid sentence.

“Oh look. The defect squad got themselves a new recruit!”

Crosshair turned to see a small group of regs walking by, a smug look on every one of their faces. Omega shrunk slightly in the seat next to him, which just pissed the sniper off more. Crosshair wasn’t one to start fights with other regs, especially when they were on Kamino, but it was taking everything in him not to launch himself at the smug bastard.

Another reg laughed, “One more member for the sad batch,”

The only thing stopping the sniper now was a small hand that came to rest on his arm, the girl’s face offering him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Crosshair. They’re not worth it,”

The regs walked away, laughing and throwing insults over their shoulder. Omega turned back to the table, offering the sniper a reassuring smile, before starting to eat. Crosshair watched the young girl in fascination, wondering why the child had grown up on Tipoca, of all places. Across the table, Echo was watching her as well, glancing at Crosshair with a look of confusion.

“You said you grew up here on Kamino?” Echo questioned, leaning forward and resting his scomp on the table.

Omega nodded, “I work with Nala Se as her medical assistant.”

Crosshair’s confusion continued to grow as the girl smiled at Echo. “...You’re just a kid? Why would they bring you to Kamino-“

“Crosshair,” Hunter’s voice cut him off. The sniper turned to the Sergeant, meeting his gaze, “Tell the girl to get lost. We are about to leave.”

Crosshair just stared at him as he stood up, quickly followed by Wrecker and Tech. Crosshair turned back to Echo and then to Omega, who looked as though she was holding back tears. He looked back at Echo, holding down the anger that was starting to boil. “If he snaps at me one time, I’m gonna hit him.”

Echo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, because assaulting your superior officer is a great idea when he’s acting insane.”

“...it’s not his fault.” Omega cut in, her voice barely above a whisper, “He doesn’t have a choice.”

“Doesn’t have-...? The hell does that mean?” Crosshair questioned, a bit more harshly than he wanted, “We’re not droids, kid.”

Omega seemed to shrink into herself, but still looked up to meet the sniper’s eyes. “It’s their inhibitor chip. It’s making them act this way. It’s not their fault!”

“Inhibitor- what?” Echo stared at the kid, as she seemed to shrink even farther.

Before Omega could respond, a voice was calling his name from across the mess hall. He turned to see Hunter standing by the door, his bucket on his head. “Admiral Tarkin has requested for us to run a battle simulation. Let’s go. Both of you.” He barked before turning and disappearing through the door.

Crosshair turned back to Echo, clearly pissed. “...I’m gonna hit him.”

“Cross, no.”

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#im been fighting with Tumblr for 2 fuckim hours trying to get this posted #star wars #star wars bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb reverse au #star wars fan fic #crosshair tbb #tech tbb #hunter tbb #wrecker tbb #omega tbb #imperial hunter #imperial tech #imperial wrecker #character death #canon death #canon character death

[ironhoshi]

They Don't Care About Us. Chapter 34.

#they don't care about us #star wars fic #star wars fan fic #jangobi #kenfetti #time travel #cal kestis #boba fett #cc 2552 striker #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #feemor #myles the mandalorian #obi wan kenobi #jango fett

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Breaking Tradition {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

approx. 1,000 words

Summary: Qui-Gon confesses his feelings for you and is reprimanded by the Jedi Council.

Warning: F! reader, brief mention of injury

While Princess Amidala of Naboo was in discussion with the Senate under the watchful eye of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, there was another woman on Qui-Gon’s mind. He had agreed to have you, a young new padawan, disguised as one of the princess’s hand maidens, and come along for the journey to learn from experience. 

You had secretly thought of Qui-Gon as more than just a mentor. Despite the little formal training you had, he saw a raw potential in you and was adamant you join the mission. This kind of attention made you feel confident in your abilities and bashful around your Jedi Master. 

Unbeknownst to you, Qui-Gon also harbored feelings for his new padawan, something he knew was frowned upon by the Jedi Council and could prove awkward if you found out and did not reciprocate those feelings. 

It was while training one day that you both expressed their feelings to each other. 

You were in a standard one-on-one battle sequence, opposite Obi-Wan, to practice using the force to lift your lightsaber that had fallen off in the distance back into your hand. All was going smoothly when Obi-Wan miscalculated the path of the lightsaber as it traveled to his hand and it collided straight into the front of your face. 

Instantly, shame washed over you, since you didn’t see the lightsaber coming. Secondly, you had fallen onto your derriere in the process, demonstrating to your Master your inability to remain balanced in a scenario of battle. And lastly, there was a sharp pain pulsing on the top of the bridge of your nose.

Needless to say, all you wanted to do was curl up in your room alone and forget any of this happened.   

While you were still in a haze and disoriented you could see a fuzzy outline of Qui-Gon coming your way and his echoed voice trying to coo you back into coherence while simultaneously yelling at Obi-Wan for his careless mistake. 

You could feel Qui-Gon gently patting the ends of his robe to your head and insisting you stay still while he cares for you. Even in the moment, while your head throbbed and you still felt the tinge of embarrassment on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but feel safe in Qui-Gon’s arms and accepted your state of being.

Later you awoke in the recovery bay of the training compound. A nurse was tending to you and you asked about the extent of your injuries. The nurse was surprised that you couldn’t remember the incident, since the trauma sustained caused a concussion that also broke the skin of your brow which needed stitches. 

You were shocked. No wonder Qui-Gon was so quick to help. 

As your thoughts wandered to Qui-Gon, you sensed his presence through the force and he appeared in the doorway.

You could tell he had just been crying by the redness of his eyes. He came right up to the side of your bed as the nurse left and held your hands in his. He knelt down and before you could even greet him with hello, he began to ramble on.  

“While you were unconscious I couldn’t bear the thought of going on without you. I found a new part of myself that I thought could have never existed as a Jedi. I have a love for you that cannot be hidden any longer. I have meditated on this and decided that telling you and not having the feelings reciprocated is better than living with this longing to love you in secret,” he said, as his soul bore into yours. 

In that moment you admired the independence and tenacity of your Jedi Master. His love for you grew to a size so great, he was willing to defy the Jedi Order and Council traditional views of love, seeing it as a weakness, a distraction to temp one to the dark side, instead of as the harmonious balance it strikes within Qui-Gon’s heart. 

You responded to his expression of love with one of your own. You brought his hands up to rest on your chest and closed your eyes. With the strength you still possessed after the injury, you channeled your energy into the force. He found peace in your heart beat’s rhythm and closed his eyes too. 

From that moment on you both became totally devoted to your love of the ways of the force, as well as for each other. You began meeting in secret, after training sessions to steal kisses in the botanical gardens or exchange lovey-dovey poetry. 

It was months later when you were discovered. Darth Maul had been lurking around with the intent to find Princess Amidala, but instead stumbled upon the sight of two Jedi’s deep in an intimate kiss and a compromising embrace.

Darth Maul relayed this newfound information to his Sith Master, Senator Palpatine, who immediately told Yoda and the remaining members of the Jedi Council, in hopes of penalizing Qui-Gon and diverting attention away from the Princess. 

When Qui-Gon was questioned about his relations with you he did not deny it. He stood defiant and unwavering on his ground. He urged the Council to see that his bond with you had only improved his skills and connection to the force, as well as your own. Their insinuation that you were a hindrance to his work or an obstacle made him question their faith in the ways of the force. 

“It was the force that brought us together, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon said. “If it had not wanted us to meet, we would not have both been gifted with the great sacrifice that it is to be a Jedi Knight.”

“A good point, you make,” said Yoda. “But, face punishments you will. Hmmm. There is need for structure, yes. Have patience and all will be revealed.”

So the decision was made. Qui-Gon would stay on Naboo to finish his journey with Princess Amidala, and you would be sent to Tatooine for a Jedi rehabilitation program, to restore your adherences to the Jedi Codes of conduct, regardless of personal feelings. 

Before you and Qui-Gon were escorted your separate ways, you whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to him, promising your love would endure this trial of separation. 

“We will communicate through force and meditation. We will prove to the council we are not defective Jedi warriors. Like Yoda said, in time, all will be revealed. We have to stay strong together,” you said as you placed your forehead against Qui-Gon’s. 

#qui gon jinn #qui-gon jinn #qui-gon jinn x reader #qui gon jinn x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fan fiction #star wars fan fic #liam neeson #liam neeson x reader #liam neeson fan fic #liam neeson fan fiction #naboo handmaidens #darth maul #phantom menace #the phantom menace

[foomoosworld]

Stars Too Far Series Masterlist (ongoing)

Category: smut

Din Djarin X Fem Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian is chasing a bounty through space on the Outer Rim when he and the bounty crash on an uninhabited planet. (Or at least it appears to be uninhabited) Din sustains an injury and wakes in a feral woman’s cabin. Together they must navigate through the deadly planet and forge a plan to escape.

Mature Content, Minors DNI! Smut, fluff, kink, violence, language!

🌺=Smut

There’s fluff in every chapter

Chapter 1 - The Bounty

Chapter 2 - Blinkey 🌺

Chapter 3 - I Like It Here

Chapter 4 - Your Air Hurts My Skin 🌺

Chapter 5 - Go On... Mandalate 🌺

Chapter 6 - Cape Isn't So Stupid Now, Is It?

Chapter 7 - Lightning Bug 🌺

Chapter 8 - Leave it Behind and Run 🌺

Chapter 9 - It's Not A Debt 🌺

Chapter 10 - I'll Bring The Girl To You

Chapter 11 - Look At Me Like That Forever 🌺

Chapter 12 - Getting "Ahead" These Days 🌺

Chapter 13 - Good Luck, Kid

Chapter 14 - Shy-Tan Djarin 🌺

Chapter 15 - Spoken Like A True Warrior 🌺

Chapter 16 - Lemon Tree

Chapter 17 - The Raven And The Firefly 🌺

#mandalorain fluff #star wars #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #razor crest #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian smut #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #star wars fan fic #din djarin x fem reader #mandalorian x fem reader #space daddy #peli motto #mayfeld #migs mayfeld #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedrito #din djarin masterlist #mandalorian masterlist #mandalorian series #din djarin series #pedro pascal smut

[thesmollestnerd]

I love fics that give me world-building and fic-canon about clone-culture. Please tell me hundreds of thousands of clones have developed their own social mores, naming convention, trade, dialect, etc.  You can’t tell me they didn’t want to try to connect with their Mandalorian blood for some sense of belonging. You can’t tell me that troopers, who painted their armor with iconography didn’t develop tradition and superstition about when and how.  You can’t tell me that an army whose entire existence is predicated on the fact that they think independently and improvise (which a droid can’t do) doesn’t have an unofficial inter-legion trade and barter system You can’t tell me that this vode that called each other “brother”, that kept and displayed the helmets of the deceased, that painted tributes to the fallen on plastoid and durasteel didn’t have grieving traditions.  You cannot tell me that a group of people who has been bred for war and thought of as disposable, hasn’t asked themselves ‘why do we bother fighting for a galaxy that doesn’t care about us?’ and the only answer they can sometimes come up with is “each other”. You can’t tell me they do not have their own culture.  so feed me those morsels in your fic. Big ones and small ones. 

#tcw #tcw fic #sw tcw #sw tcw fanfic #star wars fic #star wars fan fic

[winniethewife]

My hand was the one you reached for (Cassian Andor X reader)

Warnings: angst, canon character death,

Words:440

“Cassian! Please don’t do this. This is a suicide mission.” She had managed to catch up to him after nearly chasing him across the base.

“I have to, the Rebellion needs me!” He says with an exasperated simile on his face. “It’ll be fine.”

“What about me, I need you, there’s no way you’re going to get the plans for that thing and survive!” She was desperate for him to hear her. to give the job to another unlucky guy, but she knows he won’t.

“Always remember us, always remember this.” Cassian takes her hands in his and squeezes them tightly. His chocolate brown eyes looking into hers, full of love and hope.

“I vowed not to cry anymore, not after everything” She says softly as she feels the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Shh…we just have to have hope. Fight for a better future.” Cassian reminds her. he presses a kiss to her knuckles.  “Remember when you said I have to trust more freely? Can you trust me to come home to you?” She laughs and shakes her head at him.

“You were playin' with fire, still are as far as I can tell.” She mutters. “Fine, but you better come home.” She sighs. Cassian pulls her in for a tight embrace.

“We’re going to win this darling. I know it.” Cassian smiles at her.

“I hope so.” She chuckles.

“I know so.” He said lovingly.

~

When she found out what happened on Scarif She was devastated, but she fought harder than ever over the next several years. With hard work and determination, they did win. She stood on the surface of Endor as the sky lit up with fire. But her hands felt empty, without his hand in hers. One day like many before she went to the memorial of the fallen Rebels on Coruscant, it was the closest place to a grave site she had to visit. She sat on one of the benches. She looked up to the sky.  

“Cassian…I can’t Believe it’s been 5 years since…Since I lost you. You have no idea how much I miss you. I thought the worst was over, but these days filled with nothing, with keeping the peace and governing? I almost miss the war. Mostly I miss you. I know you’d want me to move on with my life, but…It feels impossible, I vowed I would always be yours, I can’t see myself with anyone else. I can’t.” She spoke to nothing, but for a brief moment she feels the breeze move around her, a familiar warmth, a gentle embrace. Then the feeling passes. She smiled.

~

Series Masterlist

#fanfiction #fan fiction #reader insert #self insert #taylor swift #Spotify #midnights #the great war #starwars #star wars #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #rouge one #star wars fan fic #Diego Luna #andor #diego luna x reader #Diego Luna fan fic

[palfriendpatine66]

🚨New Fic Alert🚨

I ventured into a lot of new territory for the More to Love event and wrote a Quinlan Vos/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Siri Tachi threesome. Check it out if that sounds like it might be your jam, or explore some of the other works in the More to Love collection (or even add your own!)

#quinlan vos #obi wan kenobi #siri tachi #obi wan kenobi x siri tachi x quinlan vos #more to love #multi partner fic collection #star wars fan fic #star wars fanfiction

[againstacecilia]

No Words Needed

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, near-death experience leading to emotional confession, mention of alcohol but in a simile so no drinking.

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to @sweetercalypso! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it. It isn't really holiday themed, but you said "partners to lovers" and my brain ran with it because it's such a good trope. 🙈

“Din, look out!” Your voice bounces through the cockpit, hands flying over the controls of the borrowed U-wing as the Mandalorian next to you struggles to control the ship. Unyielding winds buffet every side and puffs of labored breath escape Din’s helmet.

“I’m-” he coughs, wet and sticky- “I’m trying.” Arms shaking, he finally pulls the yoke up to level the U-wing over the barren landscape of your unlikely sanctuary.

It wasn’t your first choice to land on Nentan; nothing but rocky spires and unchecked winds greet you through the viewport. It was becoming more and more clear, however, that making it all the way to Station 88 wasn’t going to be possible if whatever injury Din had sustained fleeing Baltizaar wasn’t taken care of. Usually the best pilot you knew, Din’s flying had diminished significantly since leaving your pursuers behind on the small planet.

Taking charge of the flight controls, you keep one eye on Din as you lower the ship to the planet’s dense surface. His hands never loosen their grip on the yoke, but the tension radiating off him shakes his entire body. Sweat darkens the cowl covering the skin of his neck.

The moment the ship is settled and engines are cut, you yank him from his chair and support him down the few steps from the cockpit to the crew hold. No other people came on this run, they would’ve just slowed you down, but the reinforced bench in the middle of the room was kept in place. The full weight of man and beskar collapse on the padded surface with a groan.

You aren’t sure what happened. The blur of running full out to the ship, blaster bolts whizzing past your head, heart pumping adrenaline through your limbs, it all drowned out everything not happening immediately within your line of sight. Grabbing the first aid kit, you fall to your knees next to Din’s prone form.

“Tell me what happened,” you demand, rolling the Mandalorian onto his back. “Where are you hurt?”

Silence is the only answer you receive.

“Din?” Your hands still on the latch to the first aid kit. With the lights on in the hold, you have a better look at what you were observing in the cockpit. His body still shakes, and more blotches of dark fabric show just how much he’s sweating under all the armor. Your eyes light on his cowl, now noticing just how dark the fabric is there compared to the rest of his body…

Reaching your hand up to move the garment away, you notice the shock of red painted along the pads of your fingers. What you mistook for sweat is actually blood, and a flare of panic courses through you.

“No,” you whisper, pulling the cowl away fully and exposing a frightening slice stretching around Din’s throat. Without pausing, you fumble with the bindings of his armor, needing access to more than the sliver of skin you can see. You know about his Creed, you know you can’t remove his helmet, but he never said anything about the rest of his armor.

While your fingers desperately try to work the clips and buckles securing his chest plate, tears burn the corners of your eyes. “Come on, Din, not like this. I need you to say something. I need you to wake up and tell me what to do…”

Finally slipping the layer of armor off his chest, you tear the fabric of the cowl to get it away from his neck. A base layer long-sleeve sticks to Din’s body, sweat and blood indistinguishable as they mingle and drench the fabric. You rip the collar down the middle, not caring about what you were ruining as the full wound is exposed. The tears finally fall free as you survey the damage.

A nasty gash haunts his bronze neck. Someone must have gotten a lucky swing with a vibro-blade as the two of you ran from the group protecting your bounty. How Din had even managed to get to the ship, let alone gotten you into sub-light without you even knowing he was wounded, completely mystifies you. The blood loss alone…

Setting your hands moving again, you rifle through the first aid kit to find the tools you need. Soaking a sterile pad in the disinfectant, you steady your hands to get cleaning when orange-tipped fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Din!” You exclaim, eyes searching the dirty visor for any sign of lucidity.

His words barely register through the modulator in his helmet. You watch his throat work through a painful swallow before he says, “Where are we?”

“Nentan,” you answer. “Don’t speak, I need to take care of this cut. You’ve bled too much, you need to just focus on staying awake.”

“Cyare,” he says, the word unfamiliar to your ears, “it’s dangerous that we stopped. They’ll be looking for us.”

You shake your head. “They didn’t follow us off-world. We’ve been alone since we broke atmosphere. Now hush.”

As you try to remove your hand from his grip, he squeezes tighter. “I can’t let them hurt you, we need to-” that sickly cough wracks his body again, blood again oozing from the wound- “we need to go. Now.”

While he talks, his chest begins to heave. His breathing becomes shallow and fast and panic seems to grip at him as surely as he holds onto you. He even goes as far as to try to sit up with a cry of pain. Placing your free hand on his chest, you gently push him down and look into where you assume his eyes to be, saying as confidently as you can, “We are safe. We were not followed, and I need to take care of this wound so please let me do that. Let me take care of you.”

His fingers cling to you for another heartbeat before letting go and dropping to the bench. You work in silence, counting every one of his too-shallow breaths as you clean the cut along his throat. Once you’re satisfied with your handiwork, you open a bacta patch and apply it to his fevered skin.

Hating to leave his side, you begin to clean up the mess of the hold. Garbage gets bagged and the first aid kit gets put away, security measures are triple checked, and all seems to settle for a moment.

After the longest half hour of your life, Din begins to stir.

“Hey, be careful,” you whisper, dropping again to his side. “You shouldn’t move too much yet.”

He nods, his chest rising and falling with a cautious full breath. Relief floods your veins at the sight. At least the bacta was working. You lean your back against the bench and let your muscles relax, breathing deeply to ground yourself. He’s safe, you think to yourself. We’re going to be fine.

In the stillness of the hold, your mind starts to wander and his words creep back into your memory. “Din, can I ask you something?”

His helmet turns to look in your direction.

“What does cyare mean?”

The silence continues for another handful of heartbeats. You begin to wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then he’s slowly sitting up, brushing off your attempts to help him. Gently, so gently, he takes your hands and pulls you onto the bench beside him.

Angling his body to face you, your hands still wrapped in his, Din begins to speak. “Cyare is a term of endearment in Mando’a, the language of my people. It means…” He pauses, shoulders rising and falling with a slow, intentional breath. “It means beloved.”

Confusion and something akin to hope flares in your chest. “Din…”

“As we were running for the ship, one of the guys chasing us was catching up to you. He slipped by me while I was distracted fighting off one of the others. I managed to get the guy off me after he got my neck, but I didn’t care about the wounds. All I cared about was keeping this guy away from you. So I ran. I ran as hard as I could so I could catch up to that bastard. I didn’t even think to use my blaster because my instinct was to use my own two hands to protect you.

“In the end, I slid my knife between his ribs and left him lying on the ground, following you as you leapt into the ship.” The cold fury in his voice as he describes what he did settles into your bones. You had no idea all this had happened right behind you not more than a couple of hours ago.

“What does this have to do with-”

“I’m telling you this,” he says, voice instantly warmer and softer, “because you have to know that I care for you. When he threatened you, I realized that everything I’ve been lying to myself about not feeling… It was all real. And you needed to know.

“I should have told you sooner,” Din’s voice catches and he clears his throat, “but I was scared. Scared that telling you how I feel about you would change whatever it is we have. But after today…” His head drops with a sigh.

“Din,” you angle your head to try and meet his gaze through the inky blackness of his helmet, coaxing him to lift his head again, “we’ve been working together for months. Been stranded on planets and ripped away from people we love… Did you think I would run away from this? From you?”

He goes still as night as your words sink in, visor finally lifted to you again. You pause to consider all of the emotions barreling through you, to figure out how to explain that the thundering of your heart isn’t from fear or that the tears lining your eyes aren’t from pain; it’s all from joy. Joy filling you like honeyed wine and warming you down through your very soul.

While scanning his helmet, you remember a story he told you once. About a way Mandalorians show affection when other displays weren’t possible due to their Creed. As the memory sparks, you realize words aren’t needed to tell him how you feel.

Closing your eyes, you gently rest your forehead against the cold beskar of his helmet. Din’s fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his hands seeping through the worn leather and settling into your skin. A shudder runs through his body.

“We’re in this together,” you whisper, opening your eyes and pulling away with a smile. The sun starts to peek through the windows of the ship, warm light bathing the hold and sparkling off the armored man in front of you.

He nods, pulling you into his arms. “Together.”

#din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fan fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fan fiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fan fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fan fiction #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fan fic #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #ceci writes #space sisters secret santa 2023

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

The Sith

5.

"I think you lost your underwear somewhere, Darling."

He could not formulate a response, his voice betraying him, as only incoherent sounds escaped his throat, embarrassing sounds more akin to shrieks and whimpers. His senses was totally overstimulated by the feeling of a hot wicked tongue mercilessly licking across his overheated sensitive flesh.

The Sith’s golden eyes sparked at him in mocking amusement.

"Sith got your tongue?"

Masterpost

#star wars #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #sith obi wan #jedi anakin #fanfiction #writing exercise #flash fic #fanfic #star wars fan fic #flash fiction #The Sith #for fun #writing #implied smut

[skellymom]

"Return To Pabu" Part 1

Companion piece to "Cup Of Caf"

To read "Cup Of Caf":

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735755898541277184/a-cup-of-caf-the-bad-batch-crosshair-one?source=share

Background: The Batch returns to Pabu with Crosshair in tow. How will he adapt?

The reader (main character) from Cup Of Caf is mentioned. This story is from the point of view of The Batch and Crosshair.

(My OC Maadienne "Mad Momma" Dax makes an appearance as Hunter's love interest. Since this story takes place in an alternate universe from "Vagabonds", Love, Sil, and Tiggy do not make an appearance.)

Word Count: 1.1K

Warning: None. Angst, sadness, fluff. Passionate kissing and types of romantic relationships other than Cishet.

Lovely dividers by the talented @saradika

The Havoc Marauder skimmed over the jewel toned waters of Pabu. Echo was at the controls, humming to himself. The only other sound than Wrecker snoring from the seat behind him. Omega had been snuggled up in his arms securely but lovingly after the escape from Mt Tantiss. When Wrecker had passed out, she climbed into the copilot's seat next to Echo. He occasionally smiled and stroked her hair. 

Behind them sat Crosshair with Hunter passed out in his lap, both brothers in embrace and sleeping. Hunter immediately fell into a deep sleep as soon as the Batch was out of harm’s way. Cross rested his cheek on the top of his shorter brother’s head and fell back asleep. Occasionally, Crosshair would awaken to make sure Hunter was still with him, give his brother a gentle squeeze...then drift off. Hunter sighed in his sleep and squeezed back.  

Phee Genoa trailed behind the Marauder in her ship. Tech rested on a stretcher next to her, holding hands, fingers intertwined. He babbled nonstop to Phee about everything: The mission to Mt Tantiss, his fall, his infiltration of Hemlock’s laboratory. She listened intently peppering in the occasional, “Mhmm” “Yeah” or “Oh Brown Eyes.” 

Both ships arrived at the island and touched down. Hunter awakened and sleepily stood. Omega hopped down and hugged Echo fiercely. 

“You’re staying with us...right?” Her large brown eyes pleading with him. 

“For a little while. At least until Rex needs me.”  

Omega squeezed Echo HARD and held on. He embraced her gently. 

Hunter stooped down and kissed the top of Omega's head then poked Wrecker awake. 

“Huh...uh...here SO SOON?” Wrecker stretched and cracked his back. 

“Been out for quite some time.” Hunter chuckled. “C’mon, let’s help Phee get Tech off her ship.” 

“Yep, I got it.” Wrecker stole a glance at Echo and Omega. He smiled then playfully smacked Crosshair on his shoulder. “Come check out your new home.” 

Crosshair refused to open his eyes. “I’m in no hurry.” He sneered at Wrecker as his brother exited the ship. 

Hunter glanced down at Crosshair. Cross opened one eye to stare back at Hunter. They both grinned at each other. Then Hunter followed Wrecker to Phee’s ship. 

She had yet to lower the gangplank for entry...which seemed strange. 

“Their heart rates are elevated. Hope everything is ok.” Hunter was concerned. 

“Here, step up.” Wrecker stooped down on one knee, allowing Hunter to step up. He grabbed Hunter’s feet and lifted him high enough to see into the ship’s cockpit. 

“OH!” Hunter gave a surprise gasp and chuckled... 

Phee and Tech were locked in a passionate embrace, neither one aware of Hunter peeping through the ship’s windscreen at them. 

“Bring me down, Wrecker.” 

Wrecker caught Hunter’s flushed face and burst out laughing, while dropping the sergeant to the ground. “WELL, IT’S ABOUT TIME!” 

Hunter cleared his throat...then felt a familiar presence behind him. He spun to face...Maadienne Dax. She was leaning against the Pabu Archium Tree and had been watching the whole interaction with a sly smile. 

“Hey Hunky.” 

Hunter was love-struck and relieved that she was still on Pabu and waited for him. He knew her restless nature. The Nomaadi never stayed in one place for too long.  

They tentatively stepped toward one another. Then swept up in an amorous embrace, gently rubbing noses, leaning in for a serious deep kiss, mouths parted. 

“Omega!” Lyana and a group of other children ran up to the ships. 

“Lyana!” Omega released Echo, jumped out of the Marauder to greet them.  

They mobbed past Shep who waved in greeting. “Hello Miss Omega. Relieved to have you back!” 

“You too, Shep! Sorry, gotta go!!!” as the children dragged her away towards the town. 

Shep stopped and met Wreckers gaze. “Hello to you, too.” 

Wrecker grinned from ear to ear and gently took Shep Hazard into his arms and lovingly kissed him. 

Crosshair and Echo watched all of this silently from the inside of the Marauder. There was a palpable yearning in the air. 

“You have someone here on this planet too?” 

Echo was taken aback that Crosshair would suddenly ask that type of question. 

“No...” Echo sighed longingly. “She’s back on Coruscant. Well, she’s not MINE per se...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “...a VERY close friend. You leave anyone behind...back there?” 

Crosshair’s expression changed to intense sorrow. Echo immediately regretted his inquiry. “Apologies. None of my business...” 

“Back on Barton IV...he didn’t survive The Empire.” 

“My condolences, friend.” Echo hesitated, then reached out to put his hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. 

Cross gazed up at Echo with moist eyes. “Thank you, Vod.” 

Phee eventually lowered the gangplank and engaged Tech’s hover stretcher to bring him out. Both wore flushed complexions with a twinkle in their eyes. Mad hugged Phee and was introduced to Tech. The women picked up where they left before the mission with an enthusiastic gaggle of conversation. Reunions with Wrecker and Echo commenced. Shep informed everyone a large dinner was waiting at his home on the patio, after everyone freshened up of course. 

Crosshair, being the last to exit the Marauder, timidly stepped out. He didn’t feel like part of the merry group and unsure how to make his entrance. He quietly stood and took in each interaction with his snipers calculating eye. Shep stepped up to Crosshair and offered his hand. 

“Finally get to meet the famous Crosshair. Glad to have you here on Pabu.” 

Crosshair nodded quietly but didn’t take Shep’s hand. Shep was a good sport about it, chuckled, shrugged, and followed up with, “Look forward to you joining us for dinner tonight.” before stepping away to reunite with Wrecker. 

Hunter put his hand on Shep’s arm “Don’t mind him. He’ll come around.” 

“Understandably he needs time. Most of the inhabitants here did when they first arrived too.” 

Dinner was lovely. 

Crosshair sat quietly and ate very little, while taking in the conversation around the table. He watched the happy faces of the couples and friends interacting with each other. The loudness, emotion, intensity of it all. 

His head hurt, heart ached, and yearned to escape it. Cross silently excused himself and sat alone on the patio overlooking the island. Hunter paused from his drinking, concerned.  

Echo leaned in, “I’ve got this. Enjoy your time with Mad.”  

Hunter nodded, still concerned, but snaked his arm around Mad and squeezed. She unconsciously reached up and caressed Hunter’s cheek while laughing at the table conversation. 

Echo poured two stiff after dinner drinks and took them to the patio. He settled into a seat next to Crosshair, handing him a cup. Cross nodded in thanks. They both sat silently nursing their drinks and watched the sun set over Pabu. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read "Return to Pabu" Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740838054339723264/return-to-pabu-part-2?source=share

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #crosshair #tbb hunter #hunter #tbb wrecker #wrecker #tbb tech #tech #tbb echo #echo #tbb shep hazard #shep hazard #tbb omega #omega #star wars fan fic #star wars fan fiction #tbb fan fic #tbb fan fiction #tbb phee #phee #tech x phee #return to pabu part 1 #skellymom #crosshair x mayday

[calumance]

Surviving Together - Part 1

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: blood, they're both absolutely emotionally constipated, typical Mandalorian violence, cussing

A/N: I have no idea how many parts this is going to be. I've been writing this for MONTHS now and I figured I should get it out into the world so that I will continue it. Feedback is most welcome because I am VERY new to the Din Djarin fandom. Love you all 😘♥️

If there were two things she knew for certain, one would be that she knew the Mandalorian was getting tired of her, and the second would be that now that she was fully healed, he was going to leave her the first chance he got. She spent every waking moment trying to prepare herself for when that was going to happen, running through a list of things she would need to know and remember to survive on her own, since she obviously did such a good job the first time.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t like her, because she was a liability, because he had to watch over her just so she didn’t end up dead. She closed her eyes and looked out the window; maker, maybe it was because he thought she was weak. Whatever the reason, she knew she would never have the courage to ask.

~~~~~~

It was about a year ago when she had started to bounce from planet to planet. She hadn’t run away from home, necessarily, she just didn’t want to feel stuck anymore. The death of her father started to feel like it was suffocating her, even if it was many years ago. Then the death of her mother completely flipped a switch in her mind. Her time on her home planet was over, so she left.

Four months after she left her home planet, she found herself in Mos Eisley, a small town on the planet of Tatooine. Everything was going great for the first two months, she had picked up random jobs that gave her enough credits to buy food, and she always managed to find some place to sleep, even if it was on some abandoned crates.

It was late one night when she found herself still sitting at the cantina finishing up her food when she heard a gruff voice from behind her, “What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this all alone?” Her blood ran cold, this was the first time she had ever felt this level of terror since the night her father was killed.

The terror became icy in her veins when she felt the cold steel of a vibroblade pressed to the front of her throat. She tried to swallow, but the knife was pressed so firmly that the slightest movement would cut her, “I was just finishing up my dinner.” She whispered while trying to lean away from the knife.

“Give me all of your credits, and I will let you walk out of here unscathed.” The voice was right next to her ear, sending an unsettling shiver down her spine.

There was no way she was going to give this guy the credits she had worked so hard for. She knew her combat skills were subpar at best, but in a quick motion, she threw her head back, straight into her assailant's nose. As he stumbled backward, she turned to catch a glimpse at how much damage she caused. His nose was bleeding, but now he was angry.

“Shit,” she mumbled to herself as she quickly grabbed her pack and started to make a run for it.

She didn’t have enough time to yell for help before the miscreant caught up to her, tackling her to the ground. A scream barely escaped her throat before a hand covered her mouth, and the knife was plunged into her side. She screamed louder, but it was muffled by the hand. The warm sensation of blood running down her side caused her to stop screaming, she needed to stop panicking if she wanted to survive. Quickly, the man above her grabbed her pack, removed the vibroblade from her side, and ran.

She scrambled to press her hand to her side, tears now starting to fall down her cheeks. When she removed her shaking hand from her side, it was coated in blood. “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself before looking around to see if there was someone nearby to help her, “Fuck,” She repeated when all she saw was vast nothingness. As hard as she tried to stay calm, the amount of blood loss caused her to panic. As hard as she tried to use the Force to heal the wound, the panic wouldn't ebb and nothing was happening. She peeled her hand away from her wound and cried loudly while her blood covered hands shook. She was going to die, and she had nothing, and she was terrified, and she was alone. A sob escaped as she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in some sort of ship, the pain in her side still very intense. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she quickly looked for something to vomit in. A bucket was quickly placed in front of her, and just in time. As soon as she was finished, she flopped onto her back and closed her eyes, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “Am I dead?” She asked into the open air.

“No,” a voice told her. The voice was spoken through a modulator which caused her to open her eyes and look around. She swallowed hard when her eyes landed on her savior. The Mandalorian was well known around the galaxy, one of the best bounty hunters, definitely not someone you’d want to be on the bad side of.

“The Mandalorian,” She said, and he paused. A thick silence filled the air as she closed her eyes again and tried to hold down the next wave of nausea. “What happened?”

“I should be asking you that.” He said while pretending to be distracted by whatever he was doing. Even he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing; his actual attention solely on the woman laying on the cot.

She took a breath, a searing pain shot through her abdomen. After she let out a soft grunt, she told him what happened, in as little words as possible. “I was held at blade point, the guy stabbed me, grabbed all of my stuff, and ran.” Her throat felt as dry as the dune sea, “I thought I died.”

“You passed out from the blood loss,” he said as he sauntered over to her, a canteen in his hand. He offered the canteen to her and she took it reluctantly. She started to sit up, but winced. Immediately, he jumped to help her, his hand resting on her upper back to support her. She said no words, but her eyes said ‘thank you.’ He swallowed before speaking again, “The wound is deep, you need rest, I’ll take you to Nevarro to get essentials, you can stay until you are healed.” He paused after that, he wasn’t sure why he paused, but he did.

She allowed the cool water to coat her throat. A sigh escaped her lips as she relished in the feeling. “So what do I call you?” She tilted her head back and took another swig of water.

He debated telling her his real name, Din, my name is Din, how hard is that? He clenched his hands into fists out of nervousness. His name had been spoken enough times recently that there was no real reason to hide it, but it was still personal. Moff Gideon used it as an intimidation tactic, and it still sat poorly on his chest. “Mando is fine.” That was when she nodded and looked up at him. She spoke her name and the tips of his fingers tingled. His face heated up and at the moment he was glad to be wearing the helmet. “Get some rest,” he said after gathering himself. “We’ll land in Nevarro in a day or two.” After he helped her lay back down, he turned on his heels and climbed the ladder into the cockpit.

The two days it took them to get to Nevarro were thick with tension. Mando was so cautious around her that she figured it was because he was already starting to regret taking her along with him. In reality, it was because Din was absolutely transfixed by her and was trying his damndest to not get too close to her. The only time Din allowed himself to get close to her were the times he helped clean and redress her wound. After he was done, she would close her eyes and whisper a ‘thank you’ before taking a deep breath. Din would wait until she fell back into a deep sleep to run a gloved hand across the top of her head. Only once did he allow himself to sit and watch her, silently trying to figure out what it was about her that had him in such a chokehold.

When they landed in Nevarro, he had asked her if she was able to walk. “Yeah, yeah, I can walk,” it was a shaky answer, “Maybe with some help?” She sheepishly asked him. They both paused and eventually Din nodded and helped her stand. When she winced, his heart stopped. His stare was locked on her and she nodded, signaling that she was okay. Din let out a breath that wasn’t caught by his modulator.

“Stay here.” It came out more stern than he intended, he tried not to dwell on it as he quickly began to gather his belongings. After placing his blaster in its holster, and his rifle on his back, he made sure his armor was secure then he made his way back to her. His beskar helmet turned to her in a questioning stare. After she nodded, they started to make their way into town.

Din had helped her along the shops in the market, where together they got her new clothes, ration bars, and other essentials she would need if she were to be traveling with him. When they got back to the ship, her eyes were starting to become heavy and she was leaning more and more of her weight into him. He oddly welcomed the feeling of her body pressed against his, but ultimately laid her back down on her cot. Once she was comfortable, he pulled a blanket from the storage crate and draped it over her. This was the second time he allowed himself to sit and watch her sleep.

After the trip to Nevarro, Mando continued to bounty hunt, bringing her along for the ride while making sure her wound was healing the way it should. Once she started healing and being able to move on her own, he had set some ground rules: she either had to stay on the ship while he was hunting a quarry, or she stayed in an inn; if she were to ever stay on the ship, do not open it for anyone but him; and always think of herself. She had agreed to these terms, and that was when Mando had stopped talking to her, other than handing her a few credits before he left, with a nod goodbye. With the fear of the fact that Mando was probably getting tired of her presence, she stopped talking to him, making herself small, and never giving him a reason to dump her on some random planet. It was working, or so they thought.

~~~~~~

She looked back at the Mandalorian as he reached his hand up and flipped a switch, getting ready to enter hyperspace. When they did find themselves in the same area together, she felt a strange sense of calm. A calm that she would never be able to explain, and one he probably didn’t feel in return. It was the stupidest thing, to find yourself drawn to someone who barely tolerated your existence, but here she was, staring at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet wishing she could tell him everything. But how can you tell someone everything, when you don’t even know what everything is? She dropped her eyes to her hands as the ship entered hyperspace. Quietly, she lifted her knees to her chest and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and quickly drifted to sleep.

Once he felt secure in their flight path, and that nothing was going to interrupt their relatively short trip through hyperspace, he turned to the woman in the copilot seat. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and her head was tilted back. Soft snores came from her nose as the deep sleep consumed her. He thought about carrying her out of the cockpit and to the area she had set up as her sleeping quarters, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, he stood and removed his cloak, draping it over her. She stirred lightly, but didn’t wake. He let out a soft sigh before placing a gloved hand gently on the top of her head. He stared at her in awe for a short moment before exiting the cockpit and headed to his bunk.

Once the sliding door to his bunk closed, he removed his helmet and laid his head back. He thinks about the day he found her, laying in the sand, blood pooled underneath her. His heart was already broken from returning Grogu to the Jedi, his heart shattered when he saw her left to die in the sand. He picked her up and carried her to his ship. Once he set her down, he immediately started to work on cleaning and sealing her wound. As soon as he was sure she would recover, he studied her. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on in a while. Just as quickly as he found himself staring, he looked away from her, he couldn’t get attached, not again. But no matter how hard he tried, he was always drawn to her.

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[ironhoshi]

oh, brother, run fast chapter 2

#oh brother run fast #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #captain rex #cal kestis #anakin skywalker #time travel au #the clones think cal is a clone #misunderstandings #so your new vod'ika is a jedi #star wars #star wars fan fic #star wars fan fiction

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Confessions {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

approx. 1,000 words

Summary: You and Anakin blow off some steam by getting drunk together. When you return back for the night you are greeted by Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Kenobi who insist you get to bed. As Qui-Gon prepares you to sleep, he hears your drunken confessions; of love and insecurities.

Warnings: F! reader, insecurities, drunkenness, (Anakin and reader are in their 20s), reader and Anakin are platonic, angst, 18+

As you return back to the grounds from your impulsive bar hopping with Anakin, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are the first people you see. Disappointment is clearly written all over their faces, since two of their best Jedis are coming home past curfew and three sheets to the wind.

"sshhhh Ani, someone could hear us," you giggle out whisper yelling as he trips over his feet like a new born giraffe.

"Sorry, which way do we go," he asked with a tilted head, not sure if he could recognize the corridors in the dark.

"This way, follow m-" you started as you turned left but were cut off by the strong chest of Master Qui-Gon who was just around the corner.

Behind Qui-Gon was Obi-Wan, who could not hold back his giddiness. He wasn't angry at your antics. He loved that you and Anakin were acting like normal young people but had to put on a poker face for Qui-Gon as he handed down punishments.

Your cheeks were flush, scarlet with embarrassment for getting caught by someone you respected so highly. You were always trying to please Qui-Gon. It was an unspoken truth that you were his favorite padawan; because of your discipline in learning the ways of the force and in the longing glances you both exchanged over the past many months.

Qui-Gon's piercing gaze fixes on Anakin, and then shifts to you, his brow furrowing as he detects something beneath the surface. He knew that bar hopping wasn't your idea. Anakin was corrupting the sweet girl beside him, and Qui-Gon was not going to stand for it.

"Anakin, Obi-Wan will escort you back to your quarters," Qui-Gon ordered, putting an end to the night's activities. "And you," he turned and lowered his gaze to your sheepish figure, "come with me."

You nod in comply and Qui-Gon gently takes you by the hands, leading you to your bedroom. Yawning the whole way there, Qui-Gon's anger fades into protectiveness, just wanting to make sure you don't hurt yourself and sleep off as much as you can of what will be a massive hangover.

He shuts the door quietly, as to not startle you with any loud sounds and sees you struggling to remove your tunic. Your arms are stuck three quarters of the way out and the twisting of your shoulders isn't making the fabric roll up your back as you hoped it would.

"hhmph! Qui, could you help me, pretty pleasssssse," you slur out to him for assistance. He doesn't want to risk any impropriety but seeing you struggle was enough to throw all of the norms out the window.

"Relax your arms," he said, reaching for the hem of the shirt to pull over your head. Free from the straight jacket tunic, you stood before him in your lilac lace bra.

He let out a shallow breath as he looked down at you, remarking to himself how soft and cuddly your skin appears to be, and the way the lace of the bra seems to be painted on your breasts, fitting perfectly to the swell of your chest.

In no time flat you have removed your bottoms and exposed you cheeky bum to him, clad in lilac panties, matching your bra.

Oblivious to the tension of the situation, since your mentor is a foot away from your practically naked form you ask, "would you tuck me in?"

He nods, and follows you to the edge of the bed. He watches you cuddle into the silky soft sheets and nuzzle up to your pillow. Qui-Gon loosely drapes the blanket around your form and shift to get up as you reach for his wrist.

"Is there something else you need of me?" he asked, thinking you would ask for another blanket or for a glass of water.

You hesitate, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over you. "Can you… stay? Just for a little while? Just to talk?"

"What is it you would like to talk about?" he inquired, knowing you already confide in him as a mentor for your Jedi training. For some reason he could sense that this would be a different kind of conversation.

"Qui-Gon?" you say barely a whisper.

"Yes?" he replies, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering attention.

"Am… am I pretty?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"What?" Qui-Gon's brow furrows in confusion. "Of course, you are," he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You are beautiful, both inside and out."

Tears fell at the corners of your eyes as Qui-Gon's words wash over you, colliding with some of the negative feelings of your own body's image in your mind. The alcohol had gotten the best of your emotions.

"Then why… why don't boys like me?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "I mean, I try to be nice and friendly but no body seems to look at me. Like I train, and I train, and I train but I am still soft and nervous around people. I feel like this is a never ending cycle of disappointment. I'm too ugly for my own good."

You end your rant with a heavy heart and a long silent pause. You slowly lift your head from where it is on your pillow to see if Qui-Gon left. Instead, his gaze meets yours with a flicker of angry passing through his eyes.

"They are complete fools," he said passionately. "They fail to see you for your truest form. You tower over them in intellection, and float by them with elegance and grace."

"But Qui-" you sit up and raise your hand to stop him but he continues.

"No, you should never feel less than because these dumb boys don't see what I see in you."

For the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you are worthy of love.

"I'm sorry for getting so worked up. Its time to rest now," he says, settling in next to you in bed, sat up, and rubbing your back soothingly over the covers.

You welcome the feeling of his hands and of his warmth radiating over the entire bed.

"Thank you," you whisper to him as you drift of to sleep.

Of course, starlight. I want you to feel loved. I will always be here for you.

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