#star wars rebels x reader

[x-reader-things]

Omg hi!

I saw that you wrote for star wars rebels and thought that this was my shot!

Could i get an imagine of where Ezra has a partner(non binary reader) and they get captured after a big fight, and when they come to save them they are EXTREMELY hurt, like, burn scars, black eyes, cuts littered everywhere on their body, and how he would react along with the other ghost crew and a week or so after ish?

The ghost crew is platonic btw, but i don't know if i want Ezra romantic? Just fluff and cuddles and a really worried Ezra :)

Feel free to ignore this and remember to take care of yourself!

This one got carried away from me ty for requesting this, oml-

It was really fun to write it- I literally stayed up until 4 : 30 something or 4 : 40 something writing most of it, got 3 hours of sleep, and began to write it again I love this piece sm-

Sorry for the long wait too, and I hope you remember to take care of yourself as well!! And if this isn’t exactly how you imagined it I apologize as well, but still, I hope you enjoy!!

“—Builds character, apparently.”

The Ghost Crew x Reader [Platonic], Ezra Bridger x Reader [Romantic, mostly - recently established relationship]

Summary ; In which you get captured and tortured after a… lovely argument with your partner. Only to be found and brought back home a week later. Fun times.

Requested? ; Yes

Warnings ; reader get’s tortured, descriptions of violence [not too graphic], injuries, anxiety - typical canon violence for Star Wars Rebels and Star Wars in general. Also not much of a warning but touch starved Ezra!! I love him sm- also hurt comfort things too-

Word Count ; 6.6 k [my longest one so far- :00]

——————————————————————

Thinking back on it now, the argument was so small. So trivial.

So… Minimal.

Compared to now, that is. It was just a stupid thing blown out of proportions. A stupid little spat that you got in with your partner, Ezra.

Well, it’s not that stupid.

It was about him using the damn Sith holocron to get stronger. You didn’t mind that he was using it at first, sure. It helped him. Especially after what happened to Kanan. Kept him calm. Kept him strong. Kept him believing in the Force.

After all, in your minds eye, Sith and Jedi were really just two sides of the same coin.

It didn’t make too much of a difference to you, besides in methods of how each group manipulated their abilities they got from the Force, respectively.

But now, a couple years since then - and about a few months into… whatever your relationship turned out to be - he was depending on it too much. He was taking it’s teachings to the next level, which in turn made him more powerful. Which was a good thing, in some cases. It saved your asses more times than you could count, recently.

But Ezra was… much, much angrier than before.

Power hungry, almost.

And after Kanan found out he was using it - all because Ezra was dumb enough not to hide it quickly or put it away, and too oblivious at that point to even sense that Kanan was literally at his cabin door - Ezra rounded at you.

Blamed you for Kanan figuring it out. Blamed you for spilling his secrets. Blamed you for Kanan getting angry at him for his decision.

And you knew he wouldn’t actually say those things if he was really himself. You knew that he was beginning to get corrupted by that red pyramid of a holocron. You knew he was literally losing nights sleep due to nightmares, which made him more paranoid and skeptical about everything.

But damn, if it didn’t hurt like hell and make you even angrier than he was at that point.

You snapped at him. Told him you kept his secret from everyone. Told him you’d never, ever, spill any secrets of his or anyone else’s, even if you were being tortured for the truth. And you told him that you couldn’t believe he’d even accuse you for such a thing as that. You blamed the holocron, even took Kanan’s side for it - something you rarely ever did when it came down to Ezra unless of it was something serious - saying that Ezra’s gotten angry.

Too angry.

And you honestly didn’t really think you could handle it anymore. Or him in general, for that moment. So you left. Before he had anything else to say, and before he snapped out of that stunned daze that stared right into your eyes, almost completely disbelieving into the very depths of your soul. It was a heat of the moment kind of anger that made you do such a thing.

You offhandedly mumbled something about a mission you had to get to anyways, just as you quickly walked away from him, glare set on your face, hardening any kind of other emotion that threatened to come pouring out of your eyes (stars, you hated angry tears).

All of which happened about a week prior to where you were now.

Starving in a jail cell.

An imperial jail cell, locked away from everyone and everything.

—————————————

Another cough racked out of you, a wheeze accompanying it. You must have a cracked rib or something. Karabast, everything burned.

The mission you went on was supposed to take a couple days. And Hera gave it to you as a solo-operation. You needed it anyways, to cool off from the heated and stinging argument you had with Ezra before leaving.

It was simply get a few supply crates for medical purposes for the fleet. With how big the supply crates were, it should last the fleet about half a year at most - a few months at the very least. And honestly, the fleet could take anything it can get, at this point.

The crates were located in between the planets of Batonn and Denash, two planets in the Batonn sector.

You were warned to be careful. Earlier that year all three planets in that sector were taken back over by Grand Admiral Thrawn - some guy you’ve only recently heard of through transmissions from Fulcrum in the past few months - during the Batonn sector insurgency. You would be able to cloak one of the Phoenix squadron ships (since the Phantom would be in use for another mission at the time) so you wouldn’t be able to be detected by any of the imperials, or any of the imperial fleet, there.

Once cloaked, a secret message would be transmitted to you via a comm channel that only you and the disguised transporter would know about, in order to make the exchange for the medical crates. All hidden behind a few of the moons that orbited between both Batonn and Denash.

And you were careful.

At least, you were.

Clearly, the other disguised transporter wasn’t, and the plan was found out a little too late for you to realize that - especially a good few minutes after being bombarded by heavy blaster fire from the imperial fleet’s artillery. You’d think you’d realize that the moment you didn’t see the medical crates outside and connected to the transporter for an easy attachment pick-up, but no. You just had to give them the benefit of the doubt, didn’t you?

And now, here you were.

A week later.

Severely burned, bruised, and dehydrated.

And yet still somehow keeping a level head.

At least. You think.

“I told you, I have nothing to tell you.”, you spat between ragged breaths, another stick of something electric being shoved into your side again. You grit yourself teeth and strained, keeping your groaning and screaming to a minimum. You learned pretty quickly that running your vocal cords raw weren’t going to do you any good like that. Despite having to repeat yourself over and over to the imperial scum in front of you that you literally didn’t know a damn thing about what they wanted to hear from you.

Something something, plans for Lothal and it’s liberation (terrorist attack, which is what the Empire called it), and other boring stuff like where was the other rebels.

Now obviously, you weren’t going to just hand over the second part of their questions on a silver platter that easily. You never would. Not even if someone tried using the Force to get you to spit it out. You wouldn’t reveal that integral part of information, no. That’s where your friends were, that’s where your family lived, that’s where Ezra was.

You sure as hell weren’t going to give them that information for their satisfaction.

As for the first part of their questions, however, you legitimately didn’t know anything about it.

Sure, you’ve heard talks of it. Plans of getting together to actually plan it out, once the fleet was big enough. But you didn’t know specifics. After those couple of things, your knowledge of the subject was dwindled down to just some things you heard in passing conversations back at Chopper base. That was it.

And clearly, for the past longest week ever, the imperials didn’t believe you when you told them that truth.

That it wasn’t even fully planned. That they had nothing to worry about (yet). That you didn’t know anything.

A gloved hand lurched up and roughly grabbed your jaw, digging into the ever worsening bruises that littered your jaw and cheeks, forcing you to look at whoever it was. Through the swelling of your black eye that’s been getting worse for the past couple of days, all you could see was the blurry outline of the same soldier that always questioned you, looked at you and hurt you like you were the scum of the galaxy.

“The more you lie, the worse this gets”, he sneered, another jabs of burning and electricity stinging through you at his words. He shoved your face to the side as he let go of you, your head smacking into the metal slab that held you up and kept you captive in this horrific torture machine.

Another strained noise tickled the back of your throat. Another whimper of pain that you stifled to keep your sanity. At the very least, you could do whatever Ezra taught you to do best.

Annoy the hell out of these bucket heads.

“What’s that saying about insanity? Oh right”, you coughed before wheezing out a bit of forced laughter, a smirk forming over your mouth, irritating the cut lower lip that was beginning to scab over. “If - if you do something over and over again, and continuously get the same results, that makes you insane. And uh - buddy it’s been about a week, hasn’t it? You haven’t gotten anywhere—“

The restraints were unclipped from your wrists and ankles. Confusion wracked your mind before a hand grabbed at your neck and forced you back harshly on the metal slab. That time, you couldn’t stop the loud shout that sprang out from you at the sudden movements.

“Wha—“, you grunted before you can even squeeze out a sentence, a strong fist connected with your abdomen, making all the airbrush out of you at the action. You couldn’t even begin to process the pain you were in besides the electrical burns. The adrenaline and the numbness to it at that point was still ringing true in every nerve in your body.

Before the imperial soldier could even land another hit on you, or another burn, the hilt of a Lasan Bo-rifle hit the back of them at a pressure point, instantly knocking them out.

Wait.

Bo-rifle from Lasan?

You coughed and wheezed for more air the moment the soldier let go of your reddening neck and smacked onto the ground, and you were even firmly planted on the ground yet, or strapped down onto anything. So you were about to smack onto the ground yourself when you found no energy within you to keep yourself there. Gravity acted too fast on you.

“Woah, easy there kid—“, a rough voice sounded, almost distant in your ears, until a couple of purple furred hands caught you before you fell, steadying you on your shaky feet. “You alright there?”

“Zeb?”, you croaked out, looking up and squinting at who caught you. Purple fur, blurry yellow eyes, some semblance of a scowl - yep that was Zeb.

Once Zeb got a proper look at you, he grimaced with a flinch. “Oh - Karabast, kid, what did they do to you?!”

Burn marks everywhere, bruises everywhere, scratches everywhere, rips in clothing, tattered, messy hair, more sunken eyes than usual, looking dryer and skinnier. Karabast, you look worse for wear.

“Oh, yknow”, you chucked wryly, still keeping up the act of being as calm as you could. “A bit of torture, a bit of starvation and dehydration - builds character, apparently.” Zeb rolled his eyes, brow furrowed in something a lot less like annoyance and much more like worry.

Odd, you think. It’s only been a week since you were kidnapped. How worried could they have gotten?

“Spectre-4 to Spectre-2, come in.”, Zeb said immediately into the comm.

“Specter-2 to Spectre-4, Whaddya got for me, Zeb?”, answered the crackling voice of Hera on the other end, a faint sound of blaster fire behind her somewhere.

“I found them, I found Spectre-7”, Zeb said immediately into the comm.

“YOU FOUND THEM?” , came a chorus of four other voices loudly into the comms, along with the surprisingly relieved beeps of Chopper. You and Zeb flinched at the sound. Your ears weren’t as sensitive as the Lasat’s were, but damn if that sudden noise didn’t make you flinch.

Your’s and Zeb’s shared reaction caused him to look back at you as opposed to the comm in his other hand. One arm was held onto one of your biceps, which was one of the only thing keeping you from falling next to the puffer-pig dung heap on the floor. You were so much lighter than before. That was not a good sign.

“They’re not lookin’ so good.”, he said honestly, swiveling his head around just in case of any stray stormtrooper coming your guys’ way. No one answered back right away. At least, that’s why you and Zeb thought.

Comms shorted for a second.

Imperials know they’re there, trying to get you back, trying to cut off communications with one another.

“Zeb”, came another voice. Younger than Hera’s, definitely not either of the other guys. Sabine, you guessed, mind still swirling from the burning feeling of the metal, electrifying rods being stabbed into your sides, just enough to cause burns rather than cuts in the skin. “ZEB!”

Zeb exclaimed in irritation at the loud and sudden noise of the comms crackling back, deciding best that it probably wasn’t a good idea to just sit and wait for the others to find you two while under blaster fire. “WHAT!? What is it—!?”

“Talk to me, Orrelios, how bad are they??”, urged Sabine, seemingly referring to your injuries.

You grunted at the sudden lurch of being pulled into the hallway by Zeb, stumbling over your shaking feet as he didn’t stop for a second, even at the sounds of your own discomfort, the ones you wanted to keep at bay for a while now.

The lasat pulled you aside into an empty corridor once the blaster fire began to reach you guys. With a sigh of irritation, he picked you up from your knees and held you up - almost like a kid, which you still kind of were to some degree to him - and spoke into the comms once again. You laid your head on his shoulder with a groan and a wheeze, earning another concerned side-eyed glance from Zeb.

“Look, you’ll see them when we get back to the rendezvous point, just get there, got it!?” He said sharply into the comm, shoving it back into its place on his belt.

After that, conversations on the comms were just crackles and buzzes of the other members quickly trying to communicate with one another, blaster fire covering the most of it up, along with your hands at your ears. It was all just a blur at that point, really.

—————————————

Just before reaching the rendezvous point that was agreed upon, Zeb let you down to your feet again, still keeping a stabilized hand on your shoulder as you walked - hobbled, really - over to where the rendezvous was. He figured you didn’t want anyone to see that he carried you here like a child all the way there from that corridor. Karabast, you even vocalized that.

“Tell anyone you carried me like a kid and I will steal all of your snack rations from the extra food we found, got it?”, you slurred out, arm loosely wrapped around your middle as you heave a coarse cough afterwards, still trying to recover from being tortured just before Zeb found you.

“Got it.”, Zeb said to you with a small, relived chuckle. Although, that relief was short. How the hell are you still acting normal after all of that? Your normal, sarcastic-like-you-spend-way-too-much-time-with-Ezra self? Although, the sarcasm seems to be the only remaining constant with how you were from a week before, at that moment, so the Lasat can take what he can get. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

You arrived at the rendezvous point not a minute later, being met with a very worried sick Sabine and Hera. Hera immediately took you from Zeb’s side, an arm wrapping under one of yours as she led you back onto the Ghost. Sabine held onto your bicep of the other arm wrapped around your abdomen and stomach, keeping close by, and Zeb hovered close behind as the four of you quickly boarded the ghost.

Ezra, Kanan and Chopper were the ones in charge of the escape.

Once you were confirmed to be MIA, with chatter around the imperial gossip chain leading to fulcrum about six days into your stay at that imperial facility before it got to Chopper base, the plan was made almost in record time.

It was agreed upon that the two Jedi’s were to help escape, not fight. Not after the whole debacle with the old Clone Wars Y-Wings mission days prior to that, when Ezra’s use of the dark side got into his confidence and a little out of control during that mission - which lead to the unfortunate destruction of the Phantom.

Ezra was wholeheartedly against it, and so was Kanan.

But to Hera and the other two, it was their best bet. The moment Kanan and Ezra would’ve been found in that imperial facility would’ve made things a whole lot harder to get you out of there.

The Jedi staying behind on the Ghost was their best bet to get you out of there with as minimal attention as possible.

Well, as much as they could despite being rebels, of course.

No sooner than the doors to the Ghost closed once you were all loaded onto the ship, the freighter was immediately put into hyperdrive. Not directly to Atollan, of course - just somewhere away from that cursed place around Batonn and Denash.

The four of you all breathed a sigh of relief, you still wheezing and coughing from everything and trying to catch your breath. At this point, though, you’re pretty sure you have a cracked rib somewhere. Breathing hurt. Not just around your neck, but your sides too.

“Well, that was something”, you strained out with a forced chuckle, earning some pained looks from Sabine and Hera once they looked at the state of you.

Stars, you looked like hell.

Beeping and warbling from Chopper joined you soon afterwards, the Astro-mech flying towards you, around the loading dock that everyone who wasn’t a Jedi was in. Chopper nudged onto your leg, moving its head from side to side, almost like a nuzzling manner that your would see from a loth-cat. Zeb chuckled at the sight a bit, earning a quick zap from Chopper, and what could’ve been a curious catering of curse words and what you picked up to be “don’t tell anyone about this”, in droid language. You moved your arm from around your waist, giving Chopper a quick pat on the head, taking your hand back as he rolled away, the sounds of two sets of footsteps bounding closer on the metal of the ground scaring him off to the side.

You looked up slowly, eyes barely meeting Kanan’s, nor Ezra’s.

Well, it’s not like Kanan could actually see you. But he could hear and sense you. And the pain you’re in, despite you not being able to feel it all just yet. And he could tell you were fighting the whole time. Not giving up even the slightest bit of actual information that could help the empire. He was both equal parts relieved and absolutely horrified at that.

Force knows what kind of injuries littered the skin of your body.

Ezra, on the other hand, could see you. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what he saw.

A gulp and a shaky, quiet breath followed after he finally got to see you. A week after that stupid, stupid argument. His eyes were wide, cerulean blues scanning over each and every injury and bruise that came with your battered appearance.

You were his partner.

What did those damned imperial asshats do to his partner!?

“Hey, there’s my favorite Jedi’s!”, you forced out, your voice cutting through Ezra’s thoughts, another smile cutting through the scab on your lip even more.

Kanan gave Ezra a small pat on the back in encouragement, and Ezra wasted no time on jumping over the railing of the top deck, feet firmly planting on the lower deck of the loading dock before he enraptured you into a tight hug that almost knocked you back down onto the ground.

Hera, Sabine, and Zeb were smart enough to back away once Ezra had landed on the lower deck.

You grunted from the force, a pained wheeze accompanying it. ”Easy, Ez, pretty sure you cracked my ribs even more”, you say, sarcasm and a joking lilt covering whatever kind of fears you were feeling right then. Ezra just barely loosened his grip on you, a hand coming up to gently hold onto the back of your head as the other clutched you close around your shoulders.

His eyes were screwed shut, brows furrowed downwards as his chin pressed onto your shoulder, for another reminder that you were there. You were with him. You were in the Ghost.

You were safe.

He was still reeling at hearing the sound of your voice after not hearing it for about a week. Perhaps the longest week ever.

To say that he freaked out the moment he realized you missed your check-in time with Hera was an absolute understatement. He was already antsy during the first two days of your mission. Especially since you guys both said nothing to each other after the argument, you having left not too long afterwards. He already got a bad feeling that wouldn’t stop coursing through him - no matter how hard he tried to will it away - the moment you left him alone after you offhandedly mentioned your task once the argument ended.

And when you missed the check-in time? And the days after that?

He couldn’t sleep at all.

Went through one too many scenarios through his head that made him anxious to no end in sight. Not even Hera or Kanan could help him through that one.

He grew irritable when he was told to wait for further instructions on the matter of your disappearance. He wanted to go out and find you - maybe pay a visit to whoever the hell kept you away from the base for so long. Man, even Sabine and Zeb were willing to join him on that endeavor before the transmission from Fulcrum came through. Once Fulcrum said your name and stated the now-debunked-as-true rumors of you being captured in an imperial facility for questioning, all thoughts of his previous idea flew out the window.

He remembers how the air left his lungs when Zeb’s voice crackled through the comms to speak to Hera about finding you, Kanan and him being tapped into the frequency just incase anything else happened while they were on the Ghost, waiting for the rest of the Spectres to come home with you in tow with them for the escape. It was difficult to breathe for a few seconds.

Zeb found you.

And then, of course, he remembers the fear and anger that rushed in at what Zeb said about your state of being. What he wouldn’t give to have beat up whoever thought was a good idea to torture people for information - especially whoever thought it was a good idea to do that to you. Everyone knew immediately what Zeb was referring to when he said you didn’t look too good. You were injured. And from Zeb’s tone of voice, the injuries were bad.

And now, here you were. Held in his arms, safe back on the home you called the Ghost, with him being absolutely unable to bring himself out of the hug. He can breath easier now, now that you’re at home.

“Ez, ‘m fine”, you said with a laugh. Still trying to remain calm. “You can let go of me, y’know?”

Ezra shook his head no stubbornly, eyebrows furrowing inwards a bit more for just a second at the idea, knowing damn well he got a roll from the eyes from you. That wasn’t going to change his mind about holding you at all.

“Ezra seriously my ribs are starting to hurt—“

He loosened his grip enough to pull away from you, not before pulling a surprising move and lifting you up into his arms. One arm still clung around your shoulders, and the other hooked underneath your knees. You gasped in surprise at the action, but the gasp was a little to sharp for your body’s reaction, so immediately afterwards you coughed away from him and into your elbow, trying to catch your breath, your other arm slung around Ezra’s neck instinctively.

After a bit more of you catching your breath after a few seconds, Ezra sighs shortly in relief, and makes his way towards the ladders with you, still in his arms. The adrenaline was still there for you, just slowly waning, enough for you to get tired enough not to protest Ezra’s actions.

“What are you doing?”, Hera asked him once he started climbing out the ladder to the deck above the loading dock. The arm around your shoulders was helping him climb, your arm strong enough to hold yourself up, while his other arm stayed hooked underneath your legs.

“Gonna help with their injuries.”, he told Hera curtly.

“We have a team of medics at the base to—“

“I know.”

Ezra’s voice was sharp at that answer, even just the slightest bit of annoyed, stunning a bit of silence out of Hera at his reaction. The rest of the crew watched as he disappeared back into the Ghost with you wrapped up in his arms.

For a second, Hera took a step towards the ladders, having half a mind to follow the two of you, before Kanan’s voice called out to her from the balcony.

“Let him help. They’ll be fine with him. Think they both need some time together after the past week we just had.” He explained to her calmly. Hera only stared at him for a long minute, before looking at a random part of the Ghost below them both, sighing at his words.

He was right.

You both needed this.

—————————————

“You really said that to the guy?”, Ezra asked incredulously, voice the softest it’s ever been around you. He was busy cleaning off the dried blood from your visible cuts, having already just cleaned, bandaged, and put burn salve on the electrical burns all over your middle and sides. The burn salve was long over due for them, and you visibly relaxed when the burns were finally covered in the soothing, cooling substance. That should take away the sting that ebbed away at your nerves.

“Hey, it really was the definition of insanity in there!”, you said with a chuckle as you defended your word choices. Which, granted, prompted you to get choked by the guy before Zeb stepped in, so it probably wasn’t the best word choice, but still. It was better than nothing. “Couldn’t help it, Ezra. I spend too much time with you to not say something, yknow.”

That comment coaxed a small smile out of Ezra, a gentle hum of a chuckle already being pushed through him. But it still wasn’t enough to make him laugh all the way. At least it got him to smile, though, even for a little bit.

He was cleaning off a couple of the cuts on one of your hands, attention staying on that hand as he let the small smile turn the corners of his mouth upwards.

“There’s the smile I missed for the past week”, you said, your other hand coming up to cup the left side of his cheek. Your thumb lightly grazed over the two shallow indents of scars left by the inquisitors a couple years prior, and he leaned into the feeling of your hand on his cheek, stopping his small mission of getting you patched up himself, and relishing in your touch. Even if it’s for a few seconds before he got back to work.

One week without any knowledge of how you were doing was enough to make him realize how much he really, really missed you during the longer missions. He missed your hugs, your talks, the banter. He’d give anything to prevent another week like this one from happening again.

One week without him around was enough to make you worry. What kind of lengths he’d go through to get anyone back. To get you back. That is, if he fully turned to the darkside of the Force. Sure, two sides of the same coin with the light side of the Force and everything, but it still harbored some level of fear in you. Luckily, though, it seemed like Kanan knocked some sense in him. That or your disappearance and subsequent torturing - but honestly you’re hoping it’s not the latter. You’re just glad he’s ok. That he isn’t hurt. That he’s here and he’s safe, and that you protected the secrets of the Ghost and Chopper Base without breaking to anything the imperial facility threw at you. That was an accomplishment in its own right. And you were glad that you were able to keep those secrets safe.

And that you were able to keep Ezra safe.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a thumb swiped over the split cut that was on your lower lip. Ezra just barely grazed it, but it still hurt, and made you wince a little bit at the touch. Only by a smidge.

To cover that up, however, you decided to joke around a bit.

“If you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked”, you said, snickering a little at Ezra’s eye roll, and the red that began to tinge his ears. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a chuckle, and your smile grew. That got him to laugh.

His hand moved to hold the side of your neck, just below your jawline. Part of his hand still rested on it, more so at the corner, and just underneath the skin of your ear. The touch was careful, and his thumb lightly brushed against the bruising on your jaw. He gently pulled your head closer, and his forehead lightly bumped against yours, his nose lightly nudging against the side of your own, all in an attempt to get more calm and comfortable.

And it worked.

He took in a breath, and let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving after a couple seconds of the breath.

“Sorry about the argument”, he mumbled the apology, eyes tilted downwards, focus on the ground. “I shouldn’t have—“

“Hey”, you cut him off, knuckle from your free hand coming up, gently nudging his chin up so he could look at you, eyes that swirled with the power of the Force onto yours, that only caught the reflection of the light in the room, and the reflection of Ezra in front of you. “That was just a stupid argument. That doesn’t matter now.”

“But it does!”, he exclaimed in a whisper, irises boring into yours. You swear, you could see your own soul reflected through them. ”I went out of line and blamed you for being careless and—“

“You really think that argument has any affect on me right now?”, you ask, raising a brow. “Karabast, I was literally tortured, I would love to go back to when that argument was the most of my worries.”

That was only last week that that argument happened. So trivial, compared to the events that unfurled.

So trivial compared to the burns on your sides, the ache in your ribs, the twinges of pain from your bruises and the black eye that plagued your left eye.

It hurt emotionally, sure.

But what you wouldn’t give to go back to that being the only kind of pain that swirled in your mind.

Before even you realized what was happening, through the haze of the loud thoughts that made up your mind at the moment, Ezra’s other hand disconnected from the rag that cleaned up your dried blood, and reconnected with your other cheek on the other side of your face, away from the black eye. He nudged away a stray tear with one of his knuckles, and brushed his thumb over the swell of your cheek once more began to slowly tumble out. Mainly from the one eye you could actually see out of properly, the one eye that went wide after you mentioned the torture you endured, the one eye that let that tear go loose, providing other tears with enough confidence to start falling as well.

“I was tortured, Ezra.” Your voice went quiet, strained.

It was only then that you realized just how horrified you were.

Strange, how some feelings of anxiety didn’t pop up until way later, once you were actually processing whatever kind of traumatic event you just went through. Other times the anxiety bubbles up pretty quickly, during whatever you were going through - even if it was just a normal, calm situation that somehow made your anxiety act up. But this time, it took you a week to actually feel the damned fear that wouldn’t actually allow you to sleep very much throughout the time you were being held at the facility.

Then again, you were also doing your best to keep a level head the whole time. To keep yourself from spilling anything. To keep yourself sane.

Maybe it was the fact that you were finally in the comfort of your own home, in front of your partner no less, that made you feel comfortable enough to grab onto the bad feelings again, rather than to just force them down until they were too much for you.

Your eyes blurred Ezra out of focus due to the burning tears that bubbled up behind your eyelids. You screwed them both shut, and gulp with a shaky breath. Ezra furrowed his brow again - this time, however, they were pointed more upwards than downwards.

Still keeping his hands in the same places on your neck and cheek, he lifted his head from resting against yours and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, staying there for a couple seconds, just to linger. Mainly for his own comfort, to remind himself you were physically there with him, and also to remind you of that as well.

After that he wrapped you up in another hug, gentler this time. One you leaned into, your forehead coming to rest on his shoulder, near the crook of his neck. The hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, lightly pressed into your hair, and his other hand on the side of your neck, just under your jawline and ear, moved to your back, pulling you forward for the hug that you graciously accepted.

He nudged his nose onto the crown of your head, placing another soft and comforting kiss there. “Took you that long to figure it out, huh?”, he murmured, voice soft with an air of humor. Just the slightest lilt to make things much less strenuous than they seemed.

“Shut up, Bridger”, you sniffed, lightly punching his arm, a chuckle spilling out between the both of you. The hug tightened just a little bit, the hand you punched Ezra’s arm with holding onto the sleeve of his orange jacket he always wore.

“Sorry, sorry”, he apologized, laying his cheek down on the top of your head. “Had to joke about this somehow, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, followed by a sigh, quiet and exhausted. “Right…”

A silence fell over the two of you. Ezra let out a sigh through his nose a couple minutes into it. “You’re safe now, ok? You know that, right?”

The message was quiet, a soft mumble only meant for your ears. The tension in your own shoulders began to ease a little, much like his minutes beforehand.

Your arm moved from his jacket to around his neck again, pulling the hug even closer, just to be nearer to him. Just for more comfort. For your peace of mind to remind yourself that you’re home.

You’re safe.

You’re with Ezra.

Things are fine for now.

Everything will be alright for now.

Just for right now. Which is all you could ask for at that moment.

“I know.”, you mumbled back. You sigh out of relief, of being there with Ezra, in the comforting arms of home, in the surprisingly comforting metal rooms of home, deciding against breaking the hug for the time being.

Until Ezra broke it himself.

“Oh c’mon, Ez!”, you complained. “I was just getting comfortable, dude!”

“You were falling asleep on me”, he responded back, grabbing the rag he was using to clean off the dried blood from your injuries strewn about your skin. He stood up to get more water for it, along with a cooler ice-pack for the nasty bruise on your eye.

“Like I said, I was just getting comfortable!”

“You can get comfortable and sleep on my shoulder after I’m done taking care of your injuries - and after we’re sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion.”

“I’m not convinced.”

You groan, leaning back on your arms as Ezra gathers the supplies you need from one of the medical kits that came from the medical crates you were supposed to get from your mission beforehand. “Stars, you’re just as stubborn as Chopper - like friend like droid, y’know?”, you say with a playful scoff.

Ezra laughed. It was less of a chuckle now, more genuine. Good. You liked it when he laughed. “I could say the same thing about you, y’know—“ you interrupted him with a indignant noise, absolutely appalled that he would ever compare your stubbornness to the astro-mech. You were the only one allowed to do that, how dare he?

“I’m not that stubborn—“

Another laugh bubbled out from Ezra, and you couldn’t help but smile at it. It was a noise that never failed to brighten your day, even in the darkest of hours.

A chuckle made it’s way out of your throat again as a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you shook your head a little, the banter between you both continuing. Just like normal.

Just like home.

Maybe some things were definitely worth getting tortured over.

If you could keep the base safe, the Ghost safe, and Ezra safe, you’d do it all over again, no matter what.

You’d always protect your home from the Empire.

Even if your home wasn’t always protecting you.

#ezra bridger x reader #star wars rebels x reader #gn!reader #star wars rebels #garazeb orrelios x reader #hera syndulla x reader #kanan jarrus x reader #sabine wren x reader #platonic #romantic!ezra bridger x reader #romantic #ezra bridger #garazeb orrelios #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #sabine wren #chopper #star wars rebels chopper #when found family <3333 #again- #and also #touch starved reader #touch starved ezra #I’m love them sm #oml- #i loved writing this too- #holy heck- #anyways #I hope y’all enjoyed- <333 #hehehehe ik I did bc hurt / comfort- >>>>>

[cambion-companion]

Painted in You

Art shenanigans plus a little too much wine for the reader leads to a rare moment of romantic cheesiness with our favorite Chiss (or mine at least).

Thrawn x reader drabble | established relationship | fluff | little steamy towards the end

You giggled a little, the red and yellow paint surely had gotten in your hair by now. You held your wine as steadily as you could while spreading the myriad of colors out with your hands. Your minimal white clothes were already completely saturated with color both fresh and dried from previous finger painting sessions. The protective film crinkled a little as you moved back to admire your messy, but beautiful, work. The large canvas before you was almost done in all of its many chaotically vibrant hues.

"I guessed I'd find you here."

The smooth cadence of Thrawn's voice behind you made you jump a little and you turned with excitement to greet him. "I'm glad you did!" You gestured to your work. "What do you think? Would you be able to deduce how to defeat me in battle from this?"

Thrawn looked over your shoulder to the colorful canvas, lingering with his tall frame against the doorway. A small smile curved his lips as he tilted his head, considering. "Only if said battle had strict cleanliness guidelines."

You laughed brightly and his smile grew at the sound.

"You should join me! It's quite relaxing, gets rid of stress." You paused, glancing over his immaculate uniform pointedly. "Leave that outside though."

"Do I appear stressed?" Thrawn asked but began removing his outer uniform anyway until he was down to his black training clothes.

"You never appear to have much emotion...but I know better by now." You spoke softly as he approached you, his movements calculated and purposeful as ever as he took your paint-stained hand and placed a gentle kiss to the inside of your wrist.

"Do you indeed?"

"Mhm." You gave a little sound of contented happiness at the feeling of his warm skin beneath your fingers as you touched Thrawn's face. A streak of red paint smudged across his cheek from your touch and you couldn't help but giggle a little. "Oh stars, I am sorry it seems I forgot just how messy I am currently."

Thrawn touched the wet paint on his face and withdrew his hand, studying it upon his fingers, his glowing gaze fixated on you once more, his smile still serene. "No matter. I predict such is only the beginning."

You sipped your wine and motioned for him to sit with you upon the tarp, dragging your paints closer so they were with reach. "I've run out of canvas anyway." You looked him over, your lips twitching. "And I can't think of a lovelier substitute."

Thrawn acquiesced, he rarely denied you anything these days, since you'd become romantically involved with the Chiss. It was common for most to view Thrawn as emotionless and a little cold, but that was not the case when the two of you were alone together.

You reached forward and began lifting his black tank top up, giving him a questioning look. When he nodded, you fluidly removed the garment and tossed it to a safe paint-clear space on the floor. You paused a moment to take in the beauty of the man sitting next to you, the shades of his blue skin shifting under the fluorescent light of your studio.

Thrawn's eyes were upon your face, his expression reminded you of the phrase "the cat who got the cream" and heat flushed to your cheeks.

"Continue." Thrawn prompted silkily, his tone barely more than a purr.

You shivered a little, your own eyes meeting his briefly, knowing he could read you backwards and forwards like a well-loved book. Your fingers dipped into the cold paint, choosing a dark crimson shade at first because you couldn't resist the color matching Thrawn's eyes.

"Hold still." You instructed, a little needlessly because Thrawn was still as a statue while you moved closer. You could feel his breath on your face and had to clear your head with a little shake.

"You appear somewhat distracted, my darling." Thrawn chuckled at your blushing reaction and took your own hand, extending your arm and dipping into his own choice of paint. You glanced down, he'd chosen a crisp yellow.

"I'm perfectly cognizant, just had a little wine." You defended, narrowing your eyes at him in a teasing glare. His gaze however was focused on his own work now as he began spreading the paint over your bare arm in swirling patterns that almost tickled.

You in turn began your own body art at his shoulder, tracing the contours of his muscles with the deep red and filling the lines at your leisure with grey and white hues. The distracting sensation of Thrawn brushing against your skin sent pleasant chills down your spine and your movements faltered as you closed your eyes a moment to enjoy it.

"You are quite skilled." Thrawn murmured and you opened your eyes to see him appraising his shoulder and arm with a satisfied expression. "Your color theory is a rare talent."

You leaned forward, taking the opportunity to place a sneaky kiss to his jaw. Thrawn's hand instinctively snaked around your torso, under your shirt at your back and pulled you closer as he turned his mouth to meet yours. You felt the cold paint smear against your skin but heeded it not, Thrawn's lips were fiery against your skin as he trailed small kisses down to your throat.

Your hand found its way to the back of his neck, leaving a wake of red paint against his cerulean skin.

"As I predicted." Thrawn pecked a kiss to the tip of your nose before measuring your expression with pride. "Much more of a mess."

"Your brilliance knows no bounds." You snarked, yelping a little as Thrawn took his revenge by adding more cold paint to your abdomnen, though the heat of his hands soon overtook it.

He bent you backwards with the force of his sudden kiss, his movements swift and exact as he moved over your now prone body. Somewhere in the haze and tangled limbs the paint cups got knocked over and you could see the colors pooling around you in your periphery. Thrawn nibbled on your bottom lip and helped you remove your own shirt, the bare skin of your back pressing into the spilled paint.

Where his hands moved, color was left behind streaked against your skin. By the end of your extra-curricular activities Thrawn had to carry you to the shower in order to save the rest of your apartments from being ruined forever.

#thrawn fluff #thrawn x reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #star wars rebels x reader #thrawn fanfic #thrawn drabble #thrawn oneshot #thrawn imagine #thrawn x you #thrawn x oc #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn fic #thrawn smut #mitth'raw'nuruodo #admiral thrawn

[goosewriting]

Why? Because.

summary: reader gets trapped with an injured Zeb in a cave, and they come clean about their feelings.

relationship: Zeb Orellios x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, blood, age gap i guess?

word count: 3.6k

A/N: i loved zeb in rebels and lost my marbles when he appeared in the mandalorian. and statistically speaking i can’t be the only zeb girlie (gender neutral), right? so this one goes to all of you out there, wherever you may be <3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It has been some time since you joined the Ghost crew, and you’re happy to say that you get along with everyone (except maybe Chopper at times). They had kinda taken you in like they ended up letting Ezra stay, though you were no Jedi. So the running joke was that Kanan brought “strays” on board. But you did and still do try your best to pull your weight around. You’re extremely thankful they decided to let you stay and considered you skilled enough to keep around. 

Your homeworld had been brought to near extinction, similar to how Zeb’s planet got destroyed, so now you have no place to go back home to either. Hence why you got along with him from the start. He seemed gruff on the outside but you could see through it; that was the façade of a man who lived through pain and regret. But you know beneath it lies a rather charming personality and a caring friend. 

A friend you like a little bit too much perhaps. A friend you find yourself drawn to constantly, torn between pushing your feelings aside and letting them out into the world. 

That’s a problem for later though, because right now, you find yourself running for your life next to Zeb. 

The latest mission brought the team to a wild jungle on some desolate planet, and you and Zeb got separated from the group. With the Empire hot on your trails, no less, because why would you have a normal, relaxing day? That would be boring.

You trip over a root peeking out from the ground littered in leaves, but catch your step just in time to keep running. The vegetation is dense, and you can’t really see much ahead of you except for splotches in several shades of green. Your legs are carrying you as fast as they can, but you can feel their stamina draining rapidly as your lungs burn, begging for a break.

From somewhere above you, you can hear the unequivocal engine of a TIE fighter, and you instinctively duck. You call out to Zeb, who’s a couple of metres ahead of you.

“They’re getting closer!” you scream at him.

“Then run faster!” he retorts over his shoulder.

“Well that’s easy for you to say!” you tell him between your breaths. “Look at your legs compared to mine!”

Suddenly, Zeb disappears from your view, swallowed by a dense bush. You do hear him cry out in surprise though.

“Zeb!” you call for him, worried.

Without lowering your speed, you take the last couple of steps to reach the point where he was, pushing the leaves out of your way, when your foot suddenly lands on air instead of the ground. Imitating the Lasat’s earlier scream, you also fall, as the vegetation had hidden away the very abrupt stop the cliff came to, the edge ending at a nearly perfect 90 degree angle, which sent you tumbling downwards.

On the way down, you feel yourself hit the side of the hill with an “oomph!”, then continue rolling down, protectively holding your arms over your head however you can, given the speed you’re spinning at. 

When you finally make it to the ground, you hit a dead trunk with your back. For a second all air is knocked out of your lungs as you come to a sudden stop, and you need a second to recover your breath. Everything is still spinning, you hold your head, and all you can see are blurs of greens, yellows and browns.

After taking a moment to reorient yourself, you call out to Zeb. The only response you get is a pained groan from a little further away. You get to your feet, ignoring the pain that shoots up from your knee to your hip. The contents of your backpack got strewn around, so you go around hurriedly collecting everything before looking for Zeb. Following the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, you find him leaning on a rock. You almost drop your pack when you notice the thick branch impaled in his side. He must have hit a tree on the way down.

You approach him quickly, kneeling down at his side.

“Hey, hey,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face. “Stay with me!”

“Ugh…” is all the response he can muster. 

You check your comm; it’s busted. 

“Where’s your comm, Zeb?” you ask. He paws at his leg with a groan. 

You rummage through his pockets and take out the device, which is all but flattened. Great.

“We have to find shelter somewhere,” you say, getting up to your feet. 

Taking a look around, you realise it all looks the same. The trees are so dense that you can’t even properly see the sky. Turning back to Zeb, you catch him just in time how he’s about to pull out the branch stuck in his abdomen. You fall back to your knees and swat away his hand.

“Leave it!” you order. “If you pull it out now you’ll bleed out.”

He growls, but doesn’t fight you. Taking in his state, you suddenly feel lost and small and helpless.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Zeb!” You try to sound threatening.

“‘Tis but a flesh wound,” he says with a chuckle that quickly turns into unpleasant sounding coughs.

Great, he's delusional. 

“Did you break anything?” you ask him, checking for injuries. “Can you move your arms, legs, fingers?”

He first moves his ankles around, then slightly lifts one leg. With the other one he inhales sharply as it is the one on the side where he got hit. 

“How about your hands?” you continue. 

You talk to him in an attempt to keep him conscious. Meanwhile you rummage through your backpack for a rope. Zeb tries moving his arms but with his right one he groans in pain.

“Think i’s broken,” he says through gritted teeth, then his face starts relaxing, his eyes about to close shut.

“Hey, no no no. Look at me,” you demand, waving your hand in front of his face again; no response. “Hey!” 

You slightly slap his cheeks, and his eyes snap open to shoot you a half-glare. Then you look down and see he’s losing blood, fast.

“Dank farrik, Zeb!” you curse, looking around again. Your gaze falls on the Lasat one last time before you run in the opposite direction you fell from, looking for some sort of shelter. Not far, you luckily find a cave.

Running back to him, you fall to your knees at his side once again.

“Wake up! I can’t carry you alone!” you demand, desperation starting to creep into your voice.

But he’s too weak to stand up, so you pass the rope you had under his armpits and back, throwing the ends over your shoulder, and pulling with all your might to drag him. He drifts in and out of consciousness but tries helping you with his legs and good arm.

It takes you what feels like an eternity and a full workout to drag him into the cave, and just in time. Of course, it has to start raining. You wonder how the water even gets down here when the trees seem to have built a solid roof over the whole place.

Once you have Zeb in the cave, you take a moment to shake some life back into your limbs. Don’t fail me now! you plead with your arms and legs, and you get to work. Using some wood you found on the way here you build a makeshift splint for his broken arm. Then you prepare some bandages, bacta patches and bacta gel. You’re glad that you weren’t carrying anything in glass vials in your backpack that could have broken; all supplies survived the fall.

You kneel at Zeb's side, whose forehead is now covered in a thin layer of sweat; he’s probably running a fever. You exhale slowly through your nose, trying to calm yourself for what you’re about to do.

“Zeb, I’m gonna take it out now, okay?” you warn him, pointing to the branch he got impaled with. “This is gonna hurt… I’m sorry.”

“Ugh… Just- just do it,” he replies with shallow breaths. 

“Okay,” you say more to yourself than him, and place your hands around the splintered branch. “One, two, three!”

As you pull out the piece of wood, Zeb clenches his teeth with a groan, and blood comes gurgling out of the wound. You’re quick to generously apply the bacta gel to disinfect the area, put a bacta patch on top and some gauze over it all to stop the bleeding. It takes a little bit of effort on both sides to get Zeb to lift his back enough so you can wrap the bandage around him, but it works. 

Now that the most critical part is taken care of, you inspect him further. He’s got a couple of scratches on his arms and face. You take a clean piece of gauze and step to the cave entrance to dampen it in the rain, then come back inside and start cleaning the dried blood and grime off him as best as you can. He tries swatting you away with his good arm a couple of times.

“‘S okay. Take care of yourself first,” he speaks through heavy breaths. But you insist.

Once you're sure you cleaned him up to the best of your abilities and minimised the risk of something getting infected given your precarious situation, only then do you repeat the process for yourself. You also got a couple scratches all over you, and you're sure your back and hip are gonna bruise because of that rock earlier. 

Once you're done cleaning yourself up, you sit back and heave a deep sigh. For a moment, the cave is silent save for Zeb’s laboured breathing and the patter of the rain. You take a moment to think about what the next best course of action is. You need water, food, and you have to find a way to contact the Ghost.

From your backpack you take out your busted comm. Zeb’s one got absolutely obliterated, but yours seems in better condition. 

“Hey, do you think that we could fix this and send some message to Hera at all?” you ask.

Zeb is struggling to keep his eyes open, trying to focus on the device you’re holding in front of him.

“Do- d’you know how to… rewire?”, he asks.

“Not really… but you can talk me through it?” you offer. 

It takes several attempts, but through broken sentences and you having to shake Zeb awake a couple of times, you actually do it. You manage to more or less recall your coordinates given your last known position before the fall, and send that plus the fact that Zeb is hurt. You couldn't fix it enough to know if it actually got through or if you received a response. But you hope and pray to the Force and every other deity out there that Hera and Kanan got the message and come to find you soon.

Now that that is taken care of, you go through your mental list again. Next up: water and food. 

You give your past self a pat on the back for packing so much stuff when everyone said the weight would just slow you down. You could really never know when you’d need all this. 

You find your emergency light; it's like a bag filled with gel that emits both light and warmth. You hit it in the right spot to activate it and place it next to Zeb, who’s starting to tremble slightly, you now notice. 

Your water canteen is a bit banged up but still usable, so you step to the cave entrance to collect some rainwater. While you're here you focus on any sounds of ships or blasters, but you only hear the jungle around you.

You take a couple of swigs from the bottle, then fill it back up. With a sigh, you go back into the cave and take out one last thing from your backpack: ration bars. Not the yummiest but enough to get out of a pinch.

You offer Zeb some water, which he accepts. After he’s done drinking, he leans his head back down with a groan. It must be uncomfortable. Unfortunately, you didn't bring any shock blankets or anything. In fact you don't even have a jacket because of the planet’s tropical weather. 

You look up at the cave’s roof again, ticking off the items from your mental list. Now that everything is taken care of, there’s only one thing to do: wait. And hope for the best. Your nose crinkles at the thought. Waiting is the worst part. 

Zeb’s shuffling as he moves around trying to find a comfortable position to lie in catches your attention. You grab your blaster and move in between him and the cave wall.

“Here,” you say softly and carefully lift his head to sit down, so he can use your lap as a pillow while you lean back onto the cave wall. You prop up your hand with the blaster on your other leg, aiming at the cave entrance. “You rest up now. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

He groans, trying to get comfortable, and then silence surrounds you two. 

You’re trying to keep watch but your eyes keep drifting back to the Lasat on your lap. His breathing is evening out, so you assume he’s trying to fall asleep. You take a moment to roam over his face, his meiloorun shaped head, his big ears, his beard. You notice the wrinkles between his brows, a testament to his almost constant scowl, and you have to gather every ounce of self control in your body not to smooth out the skin with your fingers. 

“I can feel you staring,” he remarked suddenly, startling you. He opens his eyes and looks up at you.

“Sorry…” you apologise with a sheepish smile. 

He holds your gaze for a second longer than you’d have deemed necessary, then closes his eyes again and turns his head slightly away from you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, softer this time.

“Huh? Like what?” you ask. 

“Like a sad, lovestruck Loth-pup.”

Heat rises up to your cheeks, and you turn your face away as well, but then realise that you don’t care anymore if he sees you. You knew that at some point you had developed a crush for the guy but you’ve been trying your hardest to push the feelings down, and evidently failed. It did occur to you that lately things seemed to have changed; but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. So you weren’t imagining it after all, the lingering looks and quick glances your way when he thought you weren’t looking.

And if he really decides to bring this up in a cave in who knows where, then so be it. You might as well have the conversation you’ve been procrastinating on right here and now, since he can’t really run away either. 

“That’s not how I would describe it,” you start. “But I can’t help it…”

“You can do better,” he says, still not looking at you. 

“Try me,” you retort. 

He hesitates for a second, considering if he should give in to this or not. For an instant you think that’s it, and are about to keep watch again, but then he speaks. 

“I’m old, and scarred,” he tries to convince you.

“You’ve lived through a lot of things, and yet you kept your kind soul,” you counter, ready to disarm any argument he gives you.

“I get angry easily.”

“You have a strong sense of justice.”

“I’m stubborn.”

“So am I,” you say with a chuckle. 

He sighs deeply, and finally turns to face you.

“Why? Why me?” he asks and you can tell he’s genuinely wondering.

“Do I need a reason?” you ask, slightly shrugging your shoulders. “When I’m with you, I feel safe, and understood.”

“Who knew the bar was so low,” he teases, and you playfully nudge his shoulder.

“I’m serious. You’re someone I know I can confide in, someone who can read the room and differentiate playtime from ‘time to be serious’. You get things done. You’re loyal. You know what you want and what you fight for,” you recount. Then with a smile and a poke to his cheek, you add, “And for all it’s worth, I do think you’re rather handsome.”

Zeb makes a sound between a snort and a mock-offended gasp, averting his eyes from yours. You could swear his ear just twitched as well. Is that his tell-tale sign for when he’s flustered? Cute.

He remains silent, looking back to you with a soft gaze that holds something else, maybe resignation, or a little bit of sadness. 

“But, you know, now that we’ve established how I feel, I do wonder about you,” you point out. “You don’t have to answer now, though. In fact, you don’t have to answer at all if you don’t want to–”

“That wouldn’t be fair, now would it?” he cuts you short. 

“Then, do you have anything you want to add?” you ask, hopeful.

He thinks about it for a moment, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Whatever it is I want to say, I don’t think I could properly put it into words right now,” he says, gesturing to himself. “Let’s continue this conversation when I’m… not on the possible brink of death?”

“Right,” you answer, only slightly disappointed, but you try not to show it. 

“And hey,” he calls for your attention, and you look back at him. “Thank you.”

“You would have done the same thing for me,” you smile back at him, thinking he means treating his wound.

“Not just for patching me up”, he remarks. “Also for… For your words. And honesty. I can’t deny it’s nice to have someone like you looking at me the way you do. Hopefully I can be half as eloquent as you.”

He then takes your hand with his good one, bringing it to his chest. Once again, you feel your face burn. Zeb Orellios is holding your hand. While his head rests on your lap no less. With that little spurt of courage you just got from his gesture, you lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. He squeezes your hand lightly at that, sighs, and closes his eyes. 

You lean back up, resting your head on the hard cave wall behind you, but you don’t mind. You’re on cloud nine right now.

Just as you remind yourself that you’re supposed to be on watch, you hear some rustling from outside. Quickly you lift the blaster, pointing at the entrance. It sounds like someone is approaching. You aim, and–

“Found them!”

It’s Sabine.

You slump back onto the wall, lowering your weapon, letting go of the breath you were holding. 

“Are you guys okay?” she asks as she approaches you.

“I got away with just a couple bruises, but Zeb got essentially skewered, and I think his arm is broken,” you explain, turning to show her the wound on his abdomen and tell her how it happened, when you realise Zeb is still holding your hand. 

You stop mid-sentence, your eyes meeting Zeb’s, who’s looking at you with a cheeky smirk. That little–

“What happened? Are you okay?” Now it’s Ezra’s turn to step into the cave.

You let go of Zeb’s hand to carefully remove yourself from under him and stand up. You manage to get up but are a little wobbly on your legs, since you’ve been sitting for so long. Sabine quickly helps to support you and guides you outside.

Kanan is the last to get into the cave. With Ezra they try their best to support Zeb to walk but he’s still too weak to get up, so they decide to essentially fly him just outside of the cave by means of the Force, where the Phantom is parked. Zeb did not like that one bit.

– – – – –

Bonus: 

Once Zeb is in his bunk on the Ghost with fresh bacta patches and bandages, you give him one last once-over to check if he’s comfortable.

“Anything else you need?” you ask him, packing the remaining gauze and bacta you didn’t use into the first aid kit.

“I think a ‘get better kiss’ would help,” he says matter-of-factly. 

You jump a little, his comment having taken you off-guard.

“Well I’m no doctor, but let’s see what I can do,” you try saying as nonchalantly as possible, but your flustered cheeks betray you.

You gently hold his face as you kiss the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes.

“Uhm?!” comes a startled noise from Ezra who’s standing at the now open door. Oh right, for a second there you forgot they shared the room.

“Is this gonna be a thing from now on?” the boy asks, pointing between you and Zeb.

You don’t really know how to answer because you haven’t had the second part of your conversation yet, but the Lasat chuckles and folds his good arm under his head. 

“You better knock from now on,” is all he says and proceeds to close his eyes to nap.

“But it’s my room too?” Ezra looks at you for help, but you just shrug with an apologetic smile.

Walking past him, you go to your own bunk, trying to calm your pounding heart on the way.

#goose feathers #sw rebels #zeb x reader #zeb orellios x reader #star wars zeb x reader #star wars rebels x reader #star wars x reader #garazeb orrelios x reader

[i-willstealyourtoes]

MASTERPOST TIME WULULULU-

(Main page (rules, fandom list, extra info))

💗 is multishots / 💝 is oneshots / 💌 is headcanons

💕 is fluff / 💔 is angst / ❣️ is lime / 💋 is smut

💞 is poly / 💘 is match-up / 🤍 is not an x-reader / 🩵 is platonic

orange means it is being worked on / red means it is in my inbox

TF2

Touch starved!Sniper with s/o - 💕 + 💌

Scout with introverted s/o - 💌 + 💕

Engineer with chronically ill s/o - 💌 + 💕

Heavy, Engineer and Medic with an s/o with night terrors - 💌 + 💕

Medic finds out crush is an alien - 💕 + 💌

Sniper + Wildlife anon - 💕 + 💘/💌

LGBTQ headcanons - 💌/🤍

Trans Scout - 💌/🤍

RED!Mercs with Pacifist!Medic!BLU!Reader - 💕/🩵 + 💌

Sniper only connecting with the reader - 💕 + 💌

PAYDAY 2

Dallas with a male crush - 💕 + 💌

Wolf with shy!male!reader - 💕 + 💌

Dallas with small!fem!sniper!S/o - 💌 + 💕

Hoxton x Wolf x reader - 💌 + 💞 + 💕

OG gang post-ending - 💌/🤍 + 💔

Dallas with a Medic s/o - 💌 + 💕

Houston + Hoxton flustering their s/o - ❣️ + 💞+ 💌

Wolf with a male s/o - 💕 + 💌

Bain, Houston, Sokol and Dallas with shy/cute/sensitive (fem) reader - 💌 + 💕

Clover, Bonnie, Bodhi + Dragan grieving their s/o - 💌 + 💔

Sokol + Jacket with (male) s/o watching (bad horror) movies - 💌 + 💕 + 💞

Hoxton with crush that's a (nice) guard - 💌 + 💕

Bain + Heisters with a cuddly s/o - 💌 + 💕

Sokol, Hoxton + Bain with hypersensitive s/o - 💌 + (slight) 💔 + 💞

Jacket, Jimmy, Houston + Hoxton with innocent s/o - 💌 + 💕 + ❣️

Houston + Hoxton with mediator/s/o who breaks up their fights - 💌 + 💕

Bain with his crush - 💌 + 💕

Dallas with younger/silly s/o - 💌 + 💕

Jacket, Hoxton, Sokol + Bain with s/o who's an 'over-achiever' - 💌 + 💕

Dallas, Hoxton, Houston + Wolf with hurt s/o - 💌 + 💕

Houston with tiny s/o - 💌 + 💞

Dallas + Houston catching their s/o singing - 💌 + 💕

Jacket with s/o 'sharing a bed' - 💝 + 💕

Hoxton with s/o 'no strings attached' (I hate this one sm bc it's old and cringe) - 💌 + 💔 + ❣️

Joy with fem!S/o who is depressed - 💕 + 💌

Sleeping Dogs

Wei with s/o helping him with his grief - 💌 + 💔 + 💕

Wei, Jackie + Winston and their s/o - 💌 + 💕

Wei with s/o who's cousins with Dogeyes - 💌 + 💔 + 💕

BBC Ghosts

Thomas with best friend/crush reader - 💌 + 💔 + 💕

Clone Wars/The Bad Batch

Crosshair + Hunter with the same crush (Mafia AU) - 💌 + 💕

Demon Crosshair with a crush that's an Angel (AU) - 💌 + (slight) 💔 + 💕

Hunter with caretaker!Reader - 💕 + 💌

Ninjago

Ninjas with angry sibling reader - 💌

Star Wars: Rebels

(There's nothing yet)

Faith: The Unholy Trinity

(There's nothing yet)

Detroit: Become Human

(There's nothing yet)

HLVRAI

(There's nothing yet)

Henry Stickmin Collection

(There's nothing yet)

Yandere simulator

(There's nothing yet)

Minecraft: Story Mode

(There's nothing yet)

Sons of the Forest

(There's nothing yet)

Undertale

(There's nothing yet)

#TF2 #tf2 x reader #payday 2 #payday 2 x reader #sleepingdogsxreader #sleeping dogs game #bbc ghosts x reader #bbc ghosts #clone wars x reader #star wars clone wars #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #faith the unholy trinity #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #ninjago x reader #ninjago #hlvrai #henry stickmin collection #yandere simulator #yandere sim x reader #minecraft story mode #undertale x reader #undertale #x reader #x reader headcanons #masterpost #star wars rebels #star wars rebels x reader

[movedto-galenmarekstan]

—BRUISES & BACTA PACKS summary: just some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort a/n: this was a request i got before i nuked my old blog so this is for you sweet anon

In just one day, the only life Kallus knew was over.

He was free from the Empire. The relief of a clear conscience was almost blissful, but he would’ve had to be blind to not notice the suspicion he was met with from his new allies. 

The Rebels, many of whom had been injured during the attack on the Atollon base, glared heatedly towards him and the ISB armor he wore.

Kallus had no doubt they were projecting their hatred for the Empire and the pain of what they had lost onto him, but he couldn’t fault them for that.

So he kept to himself, despite the cramped hallway of the Ghost they shared. He grunted as he slowly sat down against the wall, stretching his legs out. Pain shot through him with every breath and he closed his eyes, focusing on controlling his breathing. For a man who fought a war from the safety of a Star Destroyer, Thrawn was utterly brutal in hand-to-hand combat. 

Kallus was certain the Admiral had broken a rib, at the very least. 

It wasn’t long before Kallus found himself drifting off to sleep, exhausted from combat, torture, and the adrenaline leaving his system now that he was something close to safe. 

But only a few minutes passed before he was startled awake by a sharp noise. A door had opened on the opposite end of the hall and a familiar woman stepped through. 

You kneeled beside the nearest wounded soldier, speaking softly as you held a flashlight to his eyes. 

Kallus recognized you, of course. The Ghost crew’s medic; not officially a Specter but still an invaluable asset to the team. Back when he spent day and night hunting the Lothal Rebels, you had played a role in nearly every operation and he took it upon himself to find out all he could about you. 

There hadn’t been much to find, however; all he knew was that you had been born on Hosnian Prime, attended the Imperial Academy to become a combat medic, and then abandoned your career for unknown reasons. 

Not long ago, he had planned to capture you and use you as leverage against your Rebel friends, but they protected you too fiercely for him to even get close. 

He watched you now as you made your way down the line of Rebels. Their injuries weren’t too severe, most only needing a bacta patch or spray; but you still took your time, only moving on when you were satisfied they were okay. 

Kallus was up next. He tried to sit up straighter, but a sudden sharp pain quickly stopped him. You smoothed a bacta patch over the last shoulder’s arm and looked over at Kallus. He fought the urge to fix his hair. His anxiety must have shown on his face as your eyes softened and you gave him a kind smile, walking over to kneel at his side. 

“Kallus,” you said, your voice barely above a gentle murmur, “you look awful.”

He chuckled and immediately regretted it. “I feel it, too. I’ve had a very bad day.” 

“I’ve heard. Where does it hurt?” 

Kallus patted his ribcage and you immediately got to work; skilled hands quickly removing his chestplate and the layered uniform underneath just enough for you to examine his torso. 

You gently touched his ribs and Kallus flinched, both in pain and the heat of your palm as it moved down his side, applying just the slightest pressure to each rib. You were being as gentle as you could and that… meant something to him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him with such care. 

But perhaps he was reading too much into it. After living disconnected from others for so long, it was no wonder he would be affected by the slightest bit of compassion. 

Your touch disappeared and Kallus opened his eyes — which had closed slipped without his notice — to see you rummaging through your medkit. He paled at the sight of several syringes in a neat row. 

“Two of your ribs are bruised but not broken.” You pulled out a few bacta patches. “These will help with the pain, but don’t do anything strenuous for a few days.” You ripped the packets open with your teeth. Kallus helped by lifting his uniform so you could use both hands. 

You gave him a grateful smile and again you touched him, warming the skin that had suddenly felt so cold. Kallus was glad you were so focused on treating him that you didn’t notice his blush. 

Three patches of bacta were applied to his ribs, held in place by medical tape wrapped around his torso. You checked your work with a critical eye before you fixed his uniform. “Done. Now, let me take a look at your eye.” 

You hovered your hands on either side of his head, silently asking if you could touch his face. He nodded and you cupped his jaw in your hands. 

You gently tilted his head towards the light. 

Oh. 

With nowhere else to look but your face, it was as though Kallus was seeing you for the first time. And he thought you had an effect on him before. The light eclipsing over your shoulder made you look like an angel. 

“It should heal just fine on its own,” you said, one hand moving to hold the back of his head as you picked up a thin metal tube, “but I’ll give you some bacta anyways.” 

“Thank you for this.” Kallus murmured once you were done spraying his eye. 

Your entire demeanor softened. Kallus wondered how often you got a “thank you” in your line of work. You patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You’re welcome, Kallus.” 

“Alexsandr.”

He wasn’t sure why he wanted you to call him by his given name, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it after hearing his name from your lips. 

“Alexsandr.” You smiled. “Don’t be afraid to call for me if you need anything, alright?”

With that, you packed up the last of your supplies and gave him a tiny wave before you moved on to the next injured soldier. You spoke to her with the same gentle tone as you did him and he couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. Which was utterly ridiculous, he reprimanded himself. 

You were a medic — of course you would treat everyone the same. 

He wasn’t special. He was imagining things. 

#agent kallus x reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars rebels x reader

[pretchatta]

In The Back Room Of The Bar

The life of a cargo transport pilot is a lonely one, but it suits you. You get to fly to every corner of the galaxy, seeing more sights than you could ever have dreamed of, all without being held down or tied to a particular place. If the peace of your ship and the chatter of your droid are ever not quite enough, there will always be a bar where you can find company. Tonight's company is someone you won't be forgetting for a while.

rating: explicit (sexual content); kanan jarrus/reader; 3.1k words

---

The hour is late and the cantina is crowded and noisy. It’s mostly factory workers in this part of town, celebrating the end of another day’s hard work in service to the Empire, and the emphasis is very much on said service being over – until tomorrow, that is. You sit at the bar, nursing your second drink of the night, happy to watch the numerous and varied patrons enjoying their time off from your vantage.

The life of a cargo transport pilot is a lonely one, but it suits you. You get to fly to every corner of the galaxy, seeing more sights than you could ever have dreamed of, all without being held down or tied to a particular place. You’re good enough that the pay keeps your ship fueled and your astromech charged, but not so good to attract any unwanted attention – that’s a carefully walked line. And if the peace of your ship and the chatter of your droid are ever not quite enough, there will always be a bar where you can find company.

Tonight is mostly about soaking up the atmosphere, hearing the raucous laughter and snatches of music. You’re not opposed to something more, but tonight, you would be perfectly content to return to your ship with only the pleasant buzz of alcohol as a souvenir.

At least, that’s what you think, until someone slides into the vacant seat next to you.

He’s Human, male, and exactly your type. His dark hair is pulled back, tied at the nape of his neck, exposing the strong features of his face. His nose looks as though it has been broken at least twice, but it adds a roguish character rather than detracting from his features. A small beard sits at the end of his chin, elongating his face, and from there your eyes continue to travel down. His clothing hugs his chest, quietly hinting at more than a little muscle, something that is supported by his forearms, exposed by the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You would continue your appraisal, but you’re interrupted by his low, rough voice speaking to you.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” You look up to his face, where his teal-green eyes are watching you. “And I think I’d remember a face like yours.”

You’ve been to a lot of planets in your life – it’s not hard, in this line of work – and had the full spectrum of reactions from locals. In some places, no-one looks at you twice; in others, heads turn as you walk past. It’s nice to know a man as attractive as this one falls closer to the second group.

You take a sip of your drink, maintaining eye contact over the rim of your glass.

“Your memory’s not wrong,” you reply. “I’m only grounded for the night; dropped a shipment off a few hours ago, taking the next one out in the morning.”

“A cargo hauler? Not very glamorous.” His eyes glitter with wry humour.

“I prefer ‘transport pilot’; much sexier.”

He grins and leans in closer. “I wouldn’t say you need it.” His voice is almost a whisper, and you feel his breath warm against your ear.

“What about you?”

“Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. I go wherever there’s work, and work wherever I go.” He’s leaned back again, but not as far as he had been, so your faces are mere inches apart.

“So... a drifter?”

“I prefer ‘multi-talented’.” He smirks at you. “Much sexier.”

“Care to demonstrate one of your ‘talents’?”

“Of course – watch this,” he says with a wink, before turning to catch the eye of the bartender. He makes a few hand gestures, and a moment later a pair of drinks are set down in front of the two of you. One is the same as the almost-empty glass still in your hand, while the other looks like -

“Whiskey?”

“Corellian.”

“Vintage?”

His face twists into the equivalent of a shrug. “It’s pre-Empire?”

“6 years old isn’t bad. And that’s a very useful talent.”

“What can I say; I’m good with my hands.” His innuendo translates immediately to your mind conjuring an image of just what he could do with those hands. No doubt that was his intention but you play it cool, finishing the last of your drink to start the new one the stranger has bought for you.

“Please. You bought a drink at a bar,” you say, doing your best to sound unimpressed. “That’s hardly a talent; not like, say, flying a starship.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re saying you’ve got better hands than me?”

“I know my way around a steering yoke,” you reply with a coy smile.

He’s watching your fingers as you lightly trace patterns in the condensation that has formed on your glass. 

“Perhaps I’ll have to show you something more impressive, then.” He reaches out to take one of your hands in his. “Although, I’m not sure how I can compete with hands such as these.” He starts to caress your fingers.

“I get the feeling you know how to use that mouth of yours.” You gently break free of his hold to brush your fingertips over his jaw. His lips part as his eyes remain locked onto yours. You trace his lower lip, noting with surprise its softness, and his gaze becomes a smoulder. He turns his head a fraction, enough to allow him to take your finger into his mouth. 

Desire shoots straight to your core, starting a fire in the embers he has already stoked there. The wet warmth of his mouth drives you crazy, the rough press of his tongue making you want more. His cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger.

“I think it’s time we took this somewhere a little more… private,” you say, unable to take your eyes off his mouth.

He releases your finger. “I know just the place.”

Continue on AO3 ->

#kanan jarrus #kanan x reader #kanan x you #kanan fic #kanan jarrus x reader #kanan smut #star wars #star wars rebels #star wars x reader #star wars rebels x reader #fic #pretchwritta #50+

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

The Jedi Are Dead (Star Wars Rebels x Male!Reader)

Main Masterlist

I'm fascinated by the idea of a jedi who's lost their path after order 66. Not necessarily one who turns to the dark side but one who leaves behind all parts of the jedi code and their past life as a keeper of the peace. They've become attached and refuse to lose everything like hey once did.

Also Bolt isn't an OC, he's an actual clone trooper I found from a clone wars comic🙃(Ben is because I'm lazy and it literally means son)

Word count: 1.9k

You lost so much when the republic fell.

The clone wars took so much from you, so many of your friends and even your master but order 66 took everything else away. You lost everything, you home, your family, the order and your purpose. You were forced into hiding. You had to create a whole new life after the fall of the republic. You had to remake everything, from a house to a living but you found someone to do it with.

You had a husband, a son, even a pet tooka, you'd moved on from your past life. Both you and your husband.

At least you thought so, after all you had a young son to protect now but with the rise of the rebellion and the broadcast a rebel named Ezra Bridger transmitted all across the galaxy you found yourself back in the fight (although in very small ways). That is until an unknown ship landed outside your farm.

"Papa! Buir!(father) Someone's here! There's a ship outside!" Your son, Ben yelled as he ran into the house. You looked at your husband worriedly before you both grabbed a weapon. He took a shovel and you took one of two blasters you had hidden in the house.

You quietly opened the door, aiming the blaster towards the ship as your husband hid Ben behind him. "Stay behind us Ben" He said as you got ready to shoot.

The ship's ramp lowered and you watched carefully to see who walked off.

They didn't look emperial to you but you couldn't take risks.

A green twi'lek walked out of the ship with her hands in the air.

"We come in peace" She said as she was followed by three Humans and a Lasat.

"Who are you?" You questioned them, never moving your blaster.

"Fulcrum sent us" She said and you looked at her confused then at your husband. It was his change in expression that worried you.

"Bolt, do you know these people?" You asked your husband and he nodded.

"They're the delivery guys I told you about" He said, lowering his shovel and you sighed, finally putting down your blaster.

"When you said delivery guys I expected someone with a speeder not an armed freighter" You complained as you relaxed a bit. Bolt for his part seemed sheepish at the missing information.

"Well I didn't exactly know what was coming" He said and you shook your head, you weren't mad at your husband but you were slightly disappointed.

The crew of the freighter looked at each other confused.

"So are we in the right place or not?" The youngest human asked and you felt something at the edge of your senses, something about him and someone else in the group.

"You're in the right place. My name is Bolt" Your husband said, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and on Ben's head. The little six year old was poking his head out from behind you curiously.

"This is my husband Y/N and our son Ben" He introduced and you nodded in greeting.

"Sorry about the blaster" He said and the Twi'lek in charge nodded.

"It's fine, you can never be too careful. I'm Hera, these are Kanan, Ezra, Sabine and Zeb" She said, introducing the crew behind her.

"You're a clone" The Lasat said and you stood protectively in front of your husband. "You got a problem with that?" You asked, you wouldn't allow anyone to disrespect your husband. You'd met after the war, both of you were fugitive's of the empire and he helped you understand and come to terms with what happened all that time ago. You couldn't imagine not having him with you.

"No, no, I just..." He trailed off.

"Come inside" Bolt said, he was always better with strangers than you.

You took Ben and let Bolt welcome your unexpected guests, going to prepare a pot of tea.

"Papa, who are the aruetiise?" (outsiders) Ben asked and you smiled at him.

"Their friends of your buir" You told him softly. Bolt has been mixing Mando'a into his speech for as long as you knew him so it was natural for your son to do the same. You even learned it yourself after spending so much time with him.

"But you almost shot them" He said and you laughed, he was perceptive that's for sure. It's gotten him in trouble plenty of times before.

"I've never met them before, you know we can't be too careful. Now how about you go outside and pick some herbs for the tea okay?" You asked him and he nodded, running outside to the herb garden.

---

The Ghost crew sat around the small living room, there were a few pillows but most of the space was taken up by toys.

"Sorry about the mess, it's hard to get kids to clean up after themselves" Bolt said and Hera lightly glared at Ezra.

"Don't worry about it, I know how you feel" She said and Ezra looked offended for a moment before he moved on.

"So you three live out here alone?" He asked and Bolt nodded, his greying hair was still in the regulation cut only his hairline had receded quite a bit.

"It's safe, far from the empire or any other dangers" He answered.

Kanan felt uneasy, his time with rex had helped him get over his dislike of clones somewhat but it was still there and something was off about this house.

"We're just here to pick up the data chips, no need to intrude on your home" He said but Bolt dismissed him.

"Nonsense, you came all the way here and we're happy to host you for dinner" He said though Kanan wasn't sure if you would agree.

Something was off about you and he didn't like it.

"You speak Mando'a" Sabine said, changing the subject and Bolt smiled.

"Yes, I am technically a mandalorian of clan Fett, and I see you are as well" He said and Sabine nodded.

"Of clan Wren" She said.

"An ijaat at urcir gar sabine be clan wren" (An honor to meet you Sabine of clan Wren) Bolt said, grasping Sabine's arm in his.

Ezra looked over at Kanan in confusion.

"It's a mandalorian thing I think" Kanan told his padawan.

By that time you'd walked in with a tray of tea. Kanan recognized the smell and looked at you suspiciously.

"I hope you like tea, it's my own special recipe" You explained as you set the tray on the ground between everyone and sat beside your husband.

"Where's ben?" He asked you and you pointed down the hall.

"I sent him to his room, there's no reason for him to be here for this" You said and took a cup of tea.

"You seem pretty protective of him" Kanan pointed out and you nodded.

"He's my son. I would do anything to keep him safe" You told him as he too took a cup of tea.

"Ugh, Kanan this is just like the stuff you used to make" Zeb said and Sabine scolded him for his lack of manners.

"You're a fan of tea Kanan?" You asked surprised. It took you longer than you'd have liked to connect the dots.

"I used to have it a lot as a kid" He said and you nodded.

"As did I" You said and Ezra looked between you and his master. He picked up something was off but he wasn't sure what.

"Bolt told us a bit about himself, what about you Y/N?" Ezra asked, he wanted to know why you and Kanan seemed to be at odds.

"Are you also Mandalorian?" He asked and you shook your head.

"I'm from Arkanis originally" You said before shifting the conversation.

"But what about you? You're quite the interesting crew, a Twi'lek, a Mandalorian, a Lasat and two jedi" You said and you immediately saw Kanan and Ezra shift defensively. The rest of the Ghost crew looked at you in shock.

"Well it takes one to know one" Kanan said, glaring at you.

"Wait, you're a jedi too?!" Ezra asked and you looked down into your tea.

"Not anymore. The jedi are dead" You said and glared back at Kanan.

"You should take what you need and go, it's dangerous for so many force sensitives to be together. They'll sense us" You warned. Bolt took your hand.

"We'll be fine cyar'ika, don't you worry" He said and kissed your palm.

"I'm going to check on Ben" You said as you walked down the hall and Hera looked at Bolt worryingly.

"Who's he worried will sense them?" She asked and Bolt sighed.

"Since the Jedi purge Y/N's been terrified of being found by the empire and their inquisitors. It's been worse since we took Ben in" He explained and Zeb looked at him quizzically.

"He's not yours?" He asked and Bolt shook his head.

"Not biologically" Bolt explained and Kanan understood immediately.

"He's force sensitive isn't he?" He asked and Bolt nodded but immediately turned around when he heard little footsteps running towards him.

"Buir!" Ben yelled as he ran and held onto his father.

"There's someone scary outside- and Papa said to run and I don't- I don't know what to do" Ben cried as Bolt picked him up in his arms.

Kanan heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber igniting and immediately knew what was going on.

"Inquisitors" He said looked at Ezra. The two ran in the direction Ben just came from.

"Is Papa going to be okay?" Ben asked and Bolt nodded firmly.

"He'll be fine ad'ika, your papa's stronger than you know" Bolt said trying to assure his son.

"Sabine, Zeb, get Bolt and Ben onto the Ghost and start the engines, I'm going to find the data chip" Hera said as she ran into the house.

"Come on" Sabine said as she led Bolt and Zeb outside to the Ghost.

---

You dodged lightsaber blades as well as you could, keeping the inquisitor's attention for as long as you could.

"And here I thought we'd just be collecting today, lord Vader will be glad to know we killed another pathetic jedi" She said as you fought her off as best you could. You didn't have time to get your saber from it's hiding spot and you were at a severe disadvantage.

"You will never get your filthy hands on him you sith scum. Not so long as I still live!" You yelled as you managed to disarm her. Her training was lacking, she was a beginner padawan at best.

"Then I guess you simply have to die" The inquisitor said, she summoned her saber again and was about to cut right through you when you kicked her back. Catching her saber.

"Your master has trained you poorly." You told her and you sensed Ezra and Kanan had joined you.

You held her saber to her throat.

"You should know better than to be so arrogant when you are so severely outmatched" You said and were about to end her when Kanan stopped you.

"Y/N stop!" He said and you halted.

"She went after my son. I can see the temple training in her fighting, she's a pathetic excuse for a traitor and she must be stopped before she can hurt anyone else" You said, hand stable and on the verge of plunging into her throat.

"This isn't the Jedi way, it isn't right. You won, Ben is safe" Kanan said from behind you and you felt him walk closer to you.

"You should have listened before Kanan, I am no longer a jedi" You said and cut into the inquisitor's throat, killing her.

"And I will do what I must to keep my family safe" You said, extinguished the red saber, throwing it to the ground.

#star wars animated #reader insert #star wars imagine #star wars rebels x reader #star wars rebels #hera syndulla #garazeb orrelios #sabbine wren #ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #male reader #clone x reader #star wars #order 66 #parent reader

[trashy1turtle]

Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

#star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #clone wars #the bad batch #order 66 #star wars the clone wars #the manadalorian #star wars #darth maul #tbb wrecker x reader #the bad batch x reader #boba fett #marvel fanart #marvel fanfic series #star wars rebels #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fic #star wars x you

[skywalkerrtno]

WE GOT WOLFFE BACK YEEESS

I LOVED THESE EPISODES.

#ahsoka #clone force 99 #star wars #star wars rebels #sw rebels #the bad batch #bad batch #star wars prequels #the bad batch omega #clone troopers #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe x reader #the clones #captain rex sw #rex #captain rex #rebellion #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch season 3 #tbb wrecker #comfort show #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb #crosshair tbb #tbb crosshair #commander cody #commander fox

[candyfloss5000]

just gonna leave this here

#Star wars #Sw #The bad batch #Tbb #Bad batch #Tcw #The clone wars #Clone wars #prequel trilogy #star wars rebels #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Obi wan Kenobi x reader #Crosshair x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #Tech x reader #Wrecker x reader #Tbb Echo x reader #Din djarin x reader #poe dameron x reader #Captain rex x reader #Captain howzer x reader #Commander cody x reader #Commander wolffe x reader #Commander bly x reader #arc trooper jesse x reader #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #Ahsoka tano x reader #Darth Maul x reader

[x-reader-things]

Hi!!! I was the one who requested the jealous Ezra x reader fic!

My request was Ezra being jealous around the best friend that is a boy (IDK if that was the original prompt but here it is!)

Thank you so much!

Thank YOU so much - especially for requesting again, I am so sorry that it got deleted-

I think it had something to do with being jealous and protective but I’ll just merge the two.

I hope you enjoy!

“Best friend or not.”

Ezra Bridger x Fem!Reader [romantic]

Summary ; In which Ezra is denying his jealousy, and gets protective of you after a mission.

Requested? ; Yes

Warnings ; A bit of canonical type violence, reader’s best friend is a bit of an asshole, and mentions and of assimilation and depictions of losing important items of cultures.

Word Count ; 3.8 k

——————————————————————

Ezra Bridger is never really one to be jealous.

Sure, he had bouts of it when he first met Sabine. Mainly vying for her attention instead of it being on others out of pure admiration, mistaking it for a crush. And sure, you were jealous of it back then too. But that was before you realized that Sabine was cool, and before he realized that all he wanted was a friend.

Never really had that before he met you and her.

And that, was almost a few years ago.

No, Ezra Bridger was never one to be jealous.

Not in the slightest.

Not at all.

No, he wasn’t drawn to it like a moth is to a flame. He didn’t feel a slow burning pit in the depths of his gut, the simmer of fire licking up the back of his neck. He didn’t feel annoyance ticking in the back of his head with a timer constantly going off and resetting when the feeling settles down. He didn’t roll his eyes every time Linel Rhayme, a pantoran rebel fighter known as the new Pheonix-3, and you were in the same room together. No.

He wasn’t jealous.

I mean, how could he be? You can have other friends. You HAVE had other friends. HE’S had other friends. He can’t be jealous, it’s not possible.

It’s a horrible emotion that Jedi shouldn’t have.

He wasn’t jealous.

——————————————————————

“Ezra! Focus.”, his master sternly said in a low voice, a hand clamping down onto his shoulder with a pressure he knows only as Kanan. Kanan leaned down a bit to make sure Ezra was listening. “Specter-7 will be fine. Now pay attention to this meeting, we have another mission we have to focus on.”

Ezra’s eyes darted away from you loading up Phantom II with supply crates in the distance. Your laugh rang out and echoed softly against the stone walls of the rebel base on Yavin IV, blending into the ambient bustle of noise around the area like a raindrop to a puddle.

Serene and unbothered, unlike the surface tension of the water.

Your pantoran friend laughed along with you, a voice that Ezra immediately tuned out with a quiet huff of breath. His… dislike (not jealousy!) of said rebel allowed him to be drawn back into the meeting at hand, focus no longer split up between two parts of the base.

Linel was assigned another mission along with you and you alone. Something that had to deal with intel and grabbing specific packages of important items that belonged to a few of the cultures being forcefully assimilated into imperial culture.

You, before having joined the Ghost crew at your young age, had been training on your planet to be a cultural anthropologist. You knew a lot of bits and pieces and important information about thousands of different groups along the outer rim, and being in the rebellion helped you hone that ability for even the smallest and most important tasks a rebel could have.

Bringing hope to people that they would stay, and not be completely wiped away from existence due to the Empire.

“Items hold a lot of importance, Ez.” You once told him. “It’s physical evidence of people, and creatures, and even planets alike that they exist. The empire wants to take that away from us too. I think everyone here knows that, to some degree.”

You were definitely an integral part of that mission. And Ezra couldn’t knock that. You would be able to differentiate what came from where, and help other rebels send it back to the places that those items came from.

His problem lies with Linel.

Kind of.

And the fact that you had to get close to Dathomir, where those witch-spirit-things were. And remnants of Night Sisters and who knows what else around the place.

He wished you didn’t need to go.

He wished that his mission with the rest of the ghost crew wasn’t on the opposite end of the Outer Rim.

He wished someone else was going with you, not Linel—

No, no, no.

Stop.

That’s jealousy talking, you aren’t like that Ezra.

He sighed through his nose, thoughts clearing up the more he paid attention to Hera’s instructions on their mission. Infiltrating another important supply run of ammunition that the Empire was sending off to one of the other planets they took.

It was just as important as your mission.

He needed to focus on that.

——————————————————————

The ride back to their temporary home on Yavin IV couldn’t go any slower than it did. The amount of alternate hyperspace routes the Ghost Crew had to take due to an increase of imperial vigilance was both annoying and astounding all on its own.

They - especially Ezra - could only hope that you were alright. You were a great flier, a great fighter even, trained underneath both Hera and Sabine themselves. They all know you can handle the heat when things get tough.

Their questions lie within the realms of of Linel could take it.

Hopefully he should, being a Pheonix-3 fighter who has flown under Hera’s command herself before. She has no doubt that he can handle a flying situation when he’s at the helm.

Of a one-manned ship, that is.

The crew could only hope that nothing went wrong, and things went as smoothly as they usually would go. (Not that smoothly, knowing their luck, but at least smooth enough to make sure you weren’t physically hurt.)

The moment the Ghost docked down on Yavin IV, Ezra quickly got off the ramp once it touched the ground. He jogged over to Aleksandr Kallus once he saw him, and slowed to a stop once he was close enough.

“Hey, Kallus—“, Ezra greeted, a little bit breathless on his rush to get over to him. “—any sign of Spectre-7 and Pheonix-3 yet?”

“Not yet, Bridger,” Kallus told him, earning a frown from Ezra. And a furrowed brow. Odd. But not out of character. “Don’t worry, Spectre-6, they just hit a small snag coming home.”

“Needed to take another hyperspace route, I’m guessing?”

“Not… exactly.”, Kallus sighed, partly out of annoyance. He had a task he had to get to; Ezra was taking up some of his time doing it. “Look, we’ll know properly when they come back. Their comms were a little garbled but I’m sure it’s fine, now, if you excuse me.”

He stepped around Ezra, going off into some other part of the base of his task. Ezra groaned quietly, shaking his head while walking back to the Ghost.

“What’d Kallus say about her?”, Sabine asked him, pushing a crate of unopened ammunitions his way.

Ezra took the floating crate, and moved it to join the pile of other crates in front of them. “Said she hit a snag coming home. They aren’t exactly sure what’s going on, either. Comms weren’t all that clear, apparently.”

“That’s… concerning”, Sabine said. A worried furrow crinkled the skin in between her brows when she took off her mandolorian helmet. She set it against her side with her arm slung over it. “I mean, I’m sure she’s fine and all, but he said nothing else?”

“Not a thing.”, Ezra crossed his arms in front of him, his hands lightly digging into the orange material of his jacket. It wasn’t much of a worried furrow that made his brow angle downwards as much as annoyance. Disdain, almost.

Kallus was still a little iffy on the trusting end for the both of them.

Sabine hummed in thought, eyes boring into the stone ground below them. “I’m sure we’ll figure out more when they both come back. Spectre-7 is always careful, especially on a mission that plays to her strengths. She’ll be ok.”

The mandalorian gave Ezra a comforting pat on the shoulder, one he gratefully took with a small and thankful smile, and walked back onto the ghost. Sabine took another ammunitions crate from Zeb, and pushed it down the ramp towards Ezra. He took the crate from her, looking back and forth between the ghost and where the Phantom II should be showing up, and continued on with his task of putting them all in a pile to be moved.

It should at least give him some time to stay calm. Distracting himself from the horrible flame of an emotion that sparked every time he thought of your mission, and who you were with.

He’s not jealous.

He’s not jealous.

He’s not jealous.

Concerned for your well-being, maybe.

But not jealous.

——————————————————————

A roar of a smaller ship skidding harshly on the stone snapped the whole of the Ghost Crew out of their stupor. Their mundane task of unloading the ship ceased, a whole load of wide eyes - and lenses, in Chopper’s case - staring in a frightful concern at one of the most dangerous landings they’ve seen the Phantom II take yet.

Once the skidding stopped just before a whole weapons unit, the screams of other rebels scrambling away had trickled down into a lot of murmuring. Ezra took the first step and dashed down the ramp of the Ghost ship, followed by other concerned rebels who found their way over to the smoking engines of the Phantom II.

Ezra coughed, covering his nose with his elbow and opened the back door entrance with the force. He didn’t want to waste any time if you were injured.

You and Linel almost stumbled and fell out of the ship, coughs racking through your throats. Smoke billowed out of the back, and there was a chorus of shouts when you both got out of the ship.

“I told you to leave the flying to me—“, you said, wheezing out another cough. You shoved Linel’s side, and you heaved in air. Your hand snapped up to cover a gash - bruise? No, definitely a gash - on your right arm. Ezra was immediately at your other side, his right arm going under your left to help you up better.

Your tired eyes met his with a thankful nod, and he nodded back at you. The both of you turned towards Linel once he started speaking.

“I’m a better flyer than you! I fly more than you on the daily, Y/n!”, he snapped back, also wheezing out the smoke from his lungs. You scoffed at his words and stumbled a step closer towards your friend.

“Woah, careful—“, Ezra began. He promptly shut up the moment your accusatory finger from your injured arm pointed up at the pantoran.

“Shut up, Linel, I fly the Phantom II WAY more than you do. You had no idea what the hell you were doing when those damn imperials got there!”

Ezra blinked. He - wasn’t expecting the amount of disdain in your voice. The amount of venom spouting through your words and weaving through the air like an uncomfortable blanket.

“You wanted to take things slow, that’s not how I do things—”, Linel started.

“YOU COSTED US THOSE CRATES!”

“YOU WERE TOO SLOW—“

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT - THAT’S ENOUGH, YOU TWO”, shouted another voice. Ezra, Linel, and you all flinched. Hera’s voice rung out in stern chords, silencing the yells that began to echo across the base. “That’s enough. Ezra, I want you to take Spectre-7 to the medical bay while Pheonix-3 tells me his version of what happened. Chopper, I need you to run specs on Phantom II, tell me everything we need to replace or get fixed. Sabine, Zeb and Kanan will go get what’s needed. Spectre-7 I’ll get a recount of your version of events later. Everyone understand me?”

A chorus of ‘Yes sir’s’, and ‘you got it’s’ and warbles from Chopper sounded off. Chopper headed closer to the damaged ship, Sabine, Zeb and Kanan following afterwards. Hera took Linel off to the side and sat him down on an empty crate, prompting him to tell her what happened on the mission.

Meanwhile, after Ezra was certain he glared holes into the back of Linel’s head, he led you carefully to the medical bay of the base. Your arm needed tending to, and he wanted - no, needed - to make sure you were ok.

——————————————————————

“Alright, Spectre-7”, Hera began, walking into the room of the medical bay you resided in for the moment. “Spill. What happened during the mission?”

Ezra finished tugging the last of the bandage over the gash on your arm, and tucked the last sliver of gauze underneath the rest of it. You glanced over and let out a sigh, your eyes settling in on staring down at Hera’s shoes.

“The mission started off as planned.”, you started. Your good hand lightly picked at a rip against the seam of your pants, thick material rough against the tips of your fingers. They were comfier than they looked, that’s for sure.

“We got out of hyperspace near Dathomir, hid behind one of the asteroids nearby and cloaked our signature. The pirate ship - not from anyone we knew, that’s for sure - docked on the light cruiser and we flew close by and attached to the pirate ship as planned. Sabine’s implant on the ship from a couple weeks ago worked, we didn’t need to contact them inside. Bounty hunters were distracted, bucket heads distracted. Something about payments and other shit I wasn’t paying attention to.

“The crates were there, on the bounty hunter’s ship. And I wanted to take things slow. Take as much as we could for a run back, and then go back on it again for the rest. Linel stayed inside Phantom II to load in the crates as planned. On my second run things went to hell and back between the pirates and the imperials because of a mishap in their agreement and Linel almost took off without me!”

At this point your hands moved with your words. An angry astonishment still held into your words, a bitterness left by your best friend. One you wouldn’t think would betray you, but ended up doing any how.

The simmering spark of flame in Ezra’s gut flared again.

Now’s not the time for jealousy, he told himself.

“I had to leave half of the items there, and rush back on before the door closed. And because of how quick he left we got spotted by imperials, we fought over who’s going to fly and we fucked up the Phantom really badly. Got nicked by a bunch of TIE-fighters and we we finally got back here the atmosphere finally did those damages in. Most of what was in the crates still left in the Phantom II are as good as destroyed now, Hera!”

You finally looked up at Hera, and her eyes immediately softened. Not out if you being one of her soft spots of the rebellion. One of the kids she took under her wing. No, not just out of that. The pure look of anguish that you hid behind your irritation at Linel was there, clear as day.

You always loved caring and learning about other people.

Cultural items held a hand in that. Those were always important to you. Severely, almost.

“All those pieces - all those stories, maybe even people, gone. And it was his fault for being too impulsive and my fault for letting it get to me. It was like before I joined you guys, Hera - everything I fucking lost from my people I that promised to get back and didn’t. It’s all gone because we fucked up.”

Oh.

You took a quiet breath, you shoulder bumping into Ezra’s. With a couple of blinks, you looked back down at Hera’s shoes, and wiped at the corner of one of your eyes, successful at keeping the dam that was your waterline of a lower eyelid at bay. “So… that’s all there is to it, General Syndulla.”

Nevermind.

Hera sighed, and sat down on your left side, her hand gently settling down on your left shoulder. “Well, at least now I know that maybe some best friends shouldn’t be paired together.”, she lightly chuckled, and you let out a quiet scoff of a laugh.

That feeling isn’t jealousy.

Your pinky finger edged against Ezra’s on your right, and he tapped his against yours, both of you curling said finger around the other’s.

It’s anger.

“Linel’s going to be grounded here for a couple weeks”, Hera states, voice still as calming as ever. “I have to ground you here as well to save face, alright? I’ll have Chopper go over the mission logs and recordings made during it just in case, see which one of your stories are corroborated with it. Just in case.”

She said the last sentence in such a way that told you she was still on your side. And you couldn’t be more grateful to her.

“Now, about the gash?”, Hera asked.

“The landing”, both you and Ezra answered. The Twi’lek laughed softly at the two of you.

“I figured as much.”

——————————————————————

“Hey, Linel Rhayme, right?”

Linel looked up from the data pad he was looking at, locking eyes with Ezra. “Oh, Commander Bridger. What’s up?”, he asked, letting his hands hang against his sides, datapad clutched into one of them.

“Nothing much,” Ezra said with a shrug. He leaned against the stone wall of the base, uncaring about the rough ridges digging into his back. “You and Y/n. Spectre-7. Best friends, right?”

“Right. The one and only!”, Linel answered, a nervous lilt slowly cantering into his voice. “Kinda messed up on that last mission though. We made up for it, I think. She’s still a little icy about it, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“Right.” Ezra said with a slow nod. “Well, kinda understandable when her best friend almost left her to fend for herself against both bounty hunter’s AND imperials. But I mean, you said it for yourself. Nothing you aren’t used to, right?”

Bitter.

Bitter.

Bitter.

Linel shuffled his feet. He was a couple inches further away from Ezra than he last stood.

“Look, Commander, it’s not like I had a choice. They would’ve grabbed us if I hadn’t started leaving—“, the pantoran began, brows beginning to furrow against his blue skin.

“—But, the thing is, you DID have a choice.”, Ezra cut off, eyes narrowed, darkened under the shade of the stone above them. His voice was calm and collected as his arms crossed in front of him. “You almost got captured regardless, and you put my partner in harms way. I don’t really take kindly to others that end up hurting the people I care about, you know.”

Ezra pushed himself off the wall, and walked closer to Linel. “Next time instead of spearheading your way to an impulsive decision like that on a mission under her lead, why don’t you listen to her instead, huh?”

He gave Linel a couple pats on his shoulder, and began to walk away.

“It’s not like you’re any better, Bridger.”

Ezra stopped in his tracks, not looking back at Linel behind him. He had more to say, so Ezra decided to wait until he said what he needed to.

“I’ve heard stories about how Commander Bridger of the great ship The Ghost was impulsive, and consistently put his teams into greater danger because of his decisions. Especially at the beginning.”, Linel said, a hint of malice lacing in between those words. “Don’t be a hypocrite and reprimand me for something I did that you’ve done multiple times.”

Calm.

Ezra took a deep breath. “I may have been impulsive and done that a few times, especially during the beginning. I’m not knocking that in the slightest. But, they were never out of a selfish need to get away after I joined the Ghost. And I made sure I never left anyone behind if the situation allowed it.”

He turned back to Linel. “Can you say the same for yourself?”

Silence.

“Be glad that my partner forgave you. That’s a trust you never want to try and earn back if you break it.”

Ezra turned away once again, not getting a sound out of Linel, and walked on. “Thanks for calling me out on my hypocrisy though. I’ll be sure to work on it.”

The pantoran could only watch the Jedi walk away.

——————————————————————

Somewhere off in the distance was the rest of the ghost crew - minus you and Hera -!near Phantom II, checking it’s diagnostics and grabbing what was needed to replace it. Sabine caught a glimpse of Ezra talking to Linel, and excused herself from the rest of the group to grab some supplies they needed.

“You didn’t go too hard on the guy, did you?”, she asked Ezra when he walked by her. She had the hovering cart of supplies in her hands already, and pushed them with her while the two walked back to the broken down extension of the Ghost.

“I didn’t.”

Sabine raised a brow at her younger brother figure, a smirk rising onto her face at his shrug. She gave him a pointed look.

“I didn’t!”, he raised his hands (and his voice octave too), in mock surrender. “I swear.”

“Surreee you did.” The mandalorian rolled her eyes with a snort, looking ahead of them. “Sure.”

A long stretch of silence slid by them both as they walked, only broken by a quiet and reluctant scoff Ezra let out. “Like I’d ever let him get away with what he did with Y/n kriff free.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let him either. Best friend or not.”

Ezra nodded in agreement.

“Best friend or not.”

#ezra bridger x reader #star wars rebels x reader #romantic x reader #x reader #platonic x reader #fem!reader #romantic!ezra bridger x reader #platonic!sabine wren x reader #platonic!hera syndulla x reader #i was looking up what kinda species other than human I can base the best friend on #and settled on pantoran #and looked at character names for to figure out the name of readers best friend and found a bounty hunter named Lassa Rhayme and decided to #steal the last name #Linel and Lassa are distantly related now #sometimes best friends can be assholes too #and Ezra seems like he’s not be like the explosive jealousy and protective type after a while #so #we got calm anger Ezra which is a lot more intimidating than regular anger Ezra #👁🍵👁 #anyways hi I’m love Ezra sm #also big sister Sabine- <33333 #and Hera being Hera

[523rdrebel]

Low Battery

Crosshair x Reader (GN)

Rating: Teen, SFW

Warnings: Party Setting, Mention/Allusion to drinking alcohol, overstimulation, low social energy.

Summary: Reader is at a party and has reached their limit for social interaction. They need an escape and find it unexpectedly with a grumpy Sniper hiding in a corner.

You’d been enjoying yourself with your group of friends, the party had been fun for a while, you’d had a couple of drinks and felt comfortably warm and fuzzy, and you’d had a great time conversing about life or telling entertaining stories. But now you were at your limit. The music was too loud, pulsing in your ears and making you feel like you were in a bubble that was increasingly pressing in upon you. The crowd mingling, dancing, and drinking all around you didn’t help the uncomfortable, claustrophobic pressure, either. Your friends were talking and laughing and part of you felt bad that you could no longer follow the conversation, words blended together into an audio mush with the music and the pulsing in your ears. You smiled and nodded back when they spoke to you, but the effort it took to respond and participate socially was just too much.

You sighed, running a hand over your head and wishing you could just go home, but as you’d arrived with one of your friends, you were stuck until they were ready to leave. You stood and walked around the room under the guise of getting a new drink, seeking a quiet place to hide until you could leave and recharge in the silence of your own home. You avoided eye contact as you passed other party-goers, dodging and weaving past waving, grabbing hands and gyrating hips. 

Your eyes locked onto a dark, blissfully empty corner and beelined your way towards it, only to find, to your dismay, that it was already occupied. A tall white haired man leaned in the corner, piercing eyes glaring at every person who came too close. You knew of him, others called him Crosshair, but had never met him yourself, he had a bit of a reputation for being an abrasive a-hole and loner.  He had a crosshair tattoo over his eye, a little on the nose, you thought, but it looked nice on him. He gave off an intimidating, do not talk to me sort of air.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure if you should try to find another spot to hide or give up and rejoin your friends. But just the thought of making your way back through the crowd and enduring more social interaction made your skin itch, so you shook your head, squared your shoulders and headed over to the corner.

The man glowered murderously at you as you silently found an area near him with enough space between you to suggest you didn’t wish to speak, and you kept your eyes focused anywhere but on the figure beside you. You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tightly, closed your eyes, and breathed in deeply, willing time to go by faster.

Surprisingly enough, Crosshair didn’t say a word and seemed content to keep to his own space, though he continued to glower dangerously at any person who got too close. After an undetermined amount of time, and after you’d relaxed somewhat and were leaning in comfortable silence against the wall, someone lacking the ability to read the room decided to try to chat you up.

“Hey, a babe like you shouldn’t be hiding in the corner…” The intruder’s voice made you cringe and you had to fight the impulse to flee. You groaned internally and simply stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“Come on pretty thing–” He leaned in, hovering in your physical space, you tried to shrink back but had nowhere to go.

“They’re not interested, di’kut.” Crosshair snapped irritably. “And you're in my space. Leave.” The voice was low, dangerous, like a coiled snake, and it was comforting despite the shiver that ran down your spine.

The intruder stepped back, eyeing Crosshair, sizing him up before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Freak,” he spits the word like venom but turns around and walks away without looking back.

Relief washes over you and you let out the breath you’d been holding, offering the man a grateful smile. “Thank you,” you speak softly.

He simply shrugged, but placed himself directly beside you before returning to his vigilant and piercing glares at any further intruders to your now shared space.

The both of you remained in comfortable silence, the pressure and overstimulation had lessened, though the pulsing music and close proximity of so many people still left you feeling drained and yearning for your bed.

Crosshair chuckled slightly, a surprising sound after the long stretch of silence, “So kriffing stupid…”

You followed his gaze to a group across the room, they were chanting and shouting and lifting one obviously drunk man up off his feet. Their hold on him was shaky and precarious, everyone past the point of making good decisions. You could see it coming, the entire group fallen to the floor and it would be a miracle if any of them left without injuries. You told Crosshair as much, just before the entire group collapsed in front of your eyes and you burst into startled laughter.

You and Crosshair spend the rest of the evening in relative silence, broken only occasionally by snide comments, gossipy asides, and punctuated by massive eye rolls. You're surprised at how natural it feels, being here with Crosshair, your social battery is low but his presence seemed to cost none of the energy you usually lost. It was nice.

He kept intruders from striking up conversations and you appreciated his sarcastic commentary.

By the time your friend found you and it was time to leave, you'd enjoyed a few solid hours of quiet companionship and found you'd actually enjoyed yourself. Though you were still exhausted and would likely need a few days of little to no social interaction to recover, you felt that if every party was like this one, you’d like them so much more.

Your friend regarded you and Crosshair with much confusion, but ultimately was just happy you’d found a comfortable space to enjoy yourself. You left with a quiet smile and listened to your friend’s recounting of the events you missed the whole way home.

As you readied yourself for bed, curled up in your most comfortable blanket, your comm beeped with a message.

- Next time you need an escape, comm me. We’ll leave all the idiots behind. 

Divider by Vet-iv-er

Ye Olde Tag List:

@anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @arctrooper69 @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @dystopicjumpsuit @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @followthepurrgil @yubnubhub @nahoney22 @jediknightjana @dangraccoon @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @echoxbuggs @trixie2023 @ezras-left-thumb

#RebelWrites #Rebel Writes #Crosshair x Reader #can be read as platonic or romantic #the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair #bad batch #Reader gets overstimulated #Low Social Battery #star wars fanfiction #SFW #I had this idea forever ago and it finally got written!

[the-hidden-empire]

Darth Vader:

How they are during you’re pregnancy:

Warnings: +18 nsfw/ fluff

Not proofread

- Knew before you did.

- “You’re with my child.” Was all he said out of the blue, in a completely calm demeanour.

- You were flabbergasted.

- He left you to process the news while he dealt with it in his own way.

- He requested you’re presence in you’re shared chamber.

- You had been avoiding him sense he spilt the news.

- You both knew it too.

- You couldn’t face him.

- So he followed you’re force signature.

- Automatically he could already sense a second force signature while following yours.

- He was agitated that you kept moving.

- You could feel his force signature lurking behind you.

- You tried to but you’re self more time by reaching one of the crowed hallways, to throw him off you’re signature.

- Just as you were about to turn another corner, the door had shut and locked itself blocking you’re exit.

- Frustrated you huffed to yourself.

- You could hear him before you could see him.

- “Enough. Stop running. You’ll strain yourself and the child.” He irritably warned

- “If you don’t I’ll be forced to put you to sleep. Follow.” He continued as he awaited you to follow him.

- Once you arrived at your chamber, you embraced each other without any exchanges of words.

- You’re communication was through the force, and you both knew how much this child already meant to you both.

- He allowed you only on simple missions as he knew you needed to be kept busy. He’d accompanied you as you began to show.

- But once you hit third trimester he had you benched from any missions.

- He did leave you in charge of communications. You just wouldn’t be active in the field.

- He notice three force signatures from you as you progressed with you’re pregnancy.

- He knew even before the doctor confirmed.

- you were carrying twins.

- Of course he’d have two sets of twins, it was a Skywalker thing he mused.

- Feels he doesn’t deserve a second chance, but he’s not going to take it for granted.

- Mentally preparing himself to be a father, a good one at that.

- He grieves for his lost family.

- You comfort him in his darkest moments.

- His fear is channeled into pure rage on the battle field.

- Completely ruthless in his work.

- Holds you’re bump in you’re chamber without his suit.

-He loves feeling them kick, especially when you hold him from behind, and he can actually feel it.

- You rest you’re foreheads together and enjoy the quiet moments together.

- Already had started a special force bond between his unborn children. They latched on to his signature before they were even born.

- You started wanting him more and more.

- Vader just wanted to be inside of you at all moments of the day. Especially once you started to show.

- He could even feel you’re burning desire for him through the force.

- He made sure to satisfy you anyway possible. You’re sexual needs always came first to him.

- Wanted you all to himself.

- Marked you’re whole body. He wanted everyone to know he did that to you, put those babies in you.

- You’ve both have never had so much sex in your lives.

- You would send each other images of filthy things you wanted to do to each other. Complete filth.

- You couldn’t get over his stamina.

- His troopers knew not to interfere during private moments between you two.

- Vader was away when you’re water broke.

- He knew though.

- You screamed for him through you’re force bond.

- You decided you would have them in Vaders fortress and not some medical room in the middle of a planet you had no connection with.

- It was a long labor process. Twins were not easy.

- Of course you’re husband picked the medical team. He had trust issues.

- You were screaming at the doctors, midwives, droids, and whoever else misadventures you’re way demanding for you’re husband.

- “Get out.” The Sith Lords voice filled the room with terror.

- The medical staff quickly retreated to give the husband and wife time to correlate.

- You took a glass that had been on the table and chucked it the wall right beside him (which he of course stoped mid throw)

- You screamed at him where he had been, and what took him so long. Cursing him for what he had done to you.

- Of course he was three solar systems away in mid attack.

- He could feel the agony that coursed through his wife’s body.

- He used the force to help relieve some of the pain.

- But he had to let the medical team help.

- He watched by you’re side as you held his hand with such force it would break a regular man’s hand.

- He wasn’t scared for once, he felt he was prepared this time, and that he had the power to intervene if anything went wrong.

- He wasn’t going to lose a second chance and fatherhood.

-And he for sure wasn’t going to let harm come near his wife.

- You ended up delivering two health girls.

- The midwives quickly cleaned up your daughters and yourself before handing one child over to each parent.

- “Padame.” You smiled at the smile child in you’re arms who you assumed got her blue eyes and dirty blonde mop of hair from her father.

- “Shmi.” The rough modulated voice spoke quietly, trying to not to upset the delicate infant in his hold.

- You both silently agreed to the names.

- You felt a change in your husbands force signature.

- You could feel his contentment looking at his tiny creation.

- For once you’re relationship with you’re husband felt complete, like the missing puzzle piece has been found.

- That night he held all three of you. He had never felt more in love.

- The inner Anakin was starting breaking through Vaders harsh exterior.

#Star Wars #star wars x you #x reader #star wars rebels #ashoka series #darth vader x reader #lord vader #starwars #vader x you #darth vader #anakin skywalker x pregnant reader #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x you #star wars x reader #hayden christensen #Darth Vader x pregnant reader #star wars headcanons #star wars ashoka #the clone wars #clone wars x reader #headcanon #anakin smut #sw anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #pregnancy #rogue one

[readinglistfics]

thrawn angst about his identity and how the ascendancy and empire has treated him for being different ??? thrawn girlies, what do we think about this

#thrawn #star wars #grand admiral thrawn #ahsoka #lars mikkelsen #star wars rebels #thrawn x reader #star wars chiss #thrawn imagine #mitth’raw’nuruodo my beloved #mitth'raw'nuruodo #mitth’raw’nuruodo #didnt mean to moan that loud my bad

[mandosaur]

Green-Eyed Monster (Ezra Bridger / Reader)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Ezra Bridger/Reader

Summary:

“ Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.”

Reader gets reunited with Ezra after ten years all while tormented by the thought that Sabine would be a better fit for him.

Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack. Spoilers for Ahsoka Season 1.

Word Count: 7,962

Expected Reading Time: 28:57

Jealousy. There’s a horrible feeling deep in your very bones that rakes a claw down your being. You can feel every deep gash clearly as you scowl at the bottom of your tea. Your fingers curl and uncurl against the handle of the mug as Sabine chatters with Ahsoka.

Huyang turns his mechanic head towards you from the pilot seat and Ahsoka glances your way as if sensing your turmoil from the force, but Sabine remains oblivious. Once more, everyone can sense your emotions except the very target of your ire. You bury your anger as you take a long sip of the tea and let the liquid burn your tongue.

It’s been ten years since you lost Ezra and you still can’t manage to reel in the jealousy you feel towards Sabine. She’s an old friend, someone you trust implicitly, and yet the ugly green eyed monster rears its head every time she’s near.

Ever since you were kids, you envied her. She was an old friend from your imperial academy days and seemed to be better than you even then. She was born to high ranked Mandalorian parents whereas you were born the youngest to farmers in a backwater planet. She climbed up high in the academy and won awards while you hid in her shadow and merely fulfilled requirements. She was scouted by Hera and the rebels while you simply tagged along for the ride.

And she was the person that Ezra originally had a crush on while you watched painfully from the sidelines.

Ten years ago, you had fallen in love with someone you thought you could never have. One Ezra Bridger had won you over and crushed your heart without meaning to. While you had pined for him in the background, he had pined over Sabine. You had watched it all happen while cursing yourself for yet again not being as great as her.

Even after a miracle had happened and Ezra’s sights had turned to you, you had still felt jealousy towards Sabine. While Ezra had reassured you that he liked you and made you his girlfriend, you had still harbored some resentment towards your oldest friend. There had always been a little voice inside your head that had taunted you with the knowledge that Ezra was only yours because Sabine hadn’t wanted him. That you had been a consolation prize and second best.

Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.

For years, she had tried to get you on her side. She had told you to not give up hope and to help her find Ezra, yet you had pushed her away. Your grief and heartache were easier to manage if you told yourself Ezra was gone for good. As much as it pained you, you gave up all hope and harshly rebuked Sabine for still clinging to the idea of him returning. Anything to kill the last shreds of hope that remained within you before time could do it for you.

You had, had a massive falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. Not until Hera had commed you with Ahsoka and told you to return to Lothal because of a lead Ahsoka had about Thrawn.

Thrawn, Hera claimed, was the key to finding Ezra. The two of them had disappeared together. If one of them was rumored to be alive, the other might be too.

You had come back to Lothal after much trepidation and reunited with Sabine. To her credit, she had accepted you back into her group even if things between you were awkward and strained.

Still, being back near her and reopening the wound of Ezra’s disappearance had brought back a decade worth of insecurity and envy.

The tea burns down your throat as you finish it off. You wish Ashoka had packed something stronger. Were you back home, you would have loved to drink until the edge wore off.

Stuck in a ship with Sabine though, you bite your lip.

It truly isn’t fair, you know. Sabine was your oldest friend. You had met at the imperial academy and struck a friendship. You both had joined the empire as a way to rise in rank for your families, and both had seen past the gilded veneer of fascism. Once upon a time, you two regarded each other as sisters and you made quite the trio with Ketsu-

But fate had driven a wedge between you. You had fallen for someone who liked Sabine at the time and always felt second best. That jealousy had torn you to shreds and created a wall between the two of you. You aren’t sure how to manage it and the thought stings.

The call of your name brings you out of your thoughts. Sabine remains unaware of the darkness coiling inside you and calls for you to look over something. She’s brought her research with her and has been pouring over diagrams that she thinks could help in the hunt for Ezra.

You wander over to her side and pretend to make sense of the mess of lines and circles she’s drawn on a holomap. Ahsoka eyes you wearily as Sabine talks and you suppress the urge to clench your fists.

“No, I’ve never seen this galaxy either,” you murmur. Your eyes don’t even gaze at the map Sabine is pointing at. Your mind is miles away running from you and the horrible pit in your stomach that grows with every second.

Guilt and jealousy swirl within you. You are angry. Furious even. Angry at Sabine for dragging you back in the hopes of finding a man you love that you’ve tried hard to get over. Angry at the force for tearing Ezra away from you-

And angry at yourself for yet again being weaker than Sabine.

Sabine had never given up. While you had run from Lothal and tried hard to forget your childhood sweetheart, Sabine had remained steadfast. It was she who had unlocked the map coordinates while you had stared at that damn ball for hours until your head hurt and your eyes had turned red. It was Sabine who could think of a million different ways to continue the hunt while you could barely keep yourself from screaming.

In every way that counted, in every Maker’s damned one sided competition, she had always been ahead.

“Can you read this for me-?“

Sabine reaches past you to click on a screen. Projections of documents appear before you all with the names of different galaxies and star maps. You clench your jaw as you notice all the notes she’s taken over each document. She’s been at it for years, no doubt, always searching. Never giving up. Unlike you-

The one person that should have never given up on Ezra. The one who had sworn to love him forever, the one who had dreamed of marrying him, the one who should have been fighting from the beginning to find him-

Ahsoka’s hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head and find her gaze on you.

“Perhaps Huyang should look over the information instead. He can process it faster,” Ahsoka tells Sabine.

Huyang accepts the assignment and takes the tablet from Sabine. Sabine hardly notices the way you glare in her direction.

“Are you feeling alright?” Ahsoka questions. Her tone is gentle yet firm. Concerned for your feelings yet weary of the darkness inside you.

Briefly, you remember Kanan and Ezra discussing the force. Mentioning how they could sometimes sense emotions and tell when people were struggling. You’re sure Ahsoka has noticed how you flicker between rage and heartbreak over and over again.

You aren’t sure whether you should apologize or thank her for interceding. Had she not stepped in, you think you might have snapped and started screaming at Sabine to leave you alone.

“Fine,” you whisper back.

You certainly don’t feel fine and the lie tastes bitter in your mouth, but you shrug away her arm. Murmuring something about needing a break, you move past the group and disappear into another room of the ship.

Huyang’s workshop is tidy and neatly organized. You take stock of every lightsaber piece as your fingers trace every groove and indent.

To add further insult to injury, you don’t have possession of Ezra’s lightsaber either. You had, had it once right after Lothal had been freed but had surrendered it to Sabine on Ahsoka’s suggestion. When Ahsoka had decided to train Sabine as a Jedi over you, you had silently handed over the last remnant of the boy you loved and stormed off broken and bitter.

The lightsaber pieces around you are each different. You don’t see anything that resembles Ezra’s pieces anywhere. After a while, you end up just sliding into an empty seat and your head falls into your hands.

Everything is utterly in disarray. Your mind races with a million thoughts and you’re sure your heart is a pile of jagged pieces each shattered beyond repair.

The truth of the matter is that you know your insecurities are right. Sabine is better than you. At everything.

Had she liked Ezra back years ago, he would have never looked in your direction. The bittersweet memories you had of dating him would have never happened. You would have never been chosen if his first choice hadn’t panned out. Ezra had tried once to tell you that it wasn’t true, that he had genuinely fallen for you and it had nothing to do with Sabine only seeing him as a brother, but you hadn’t believed him.

And now? Now she was definitely better than you.

You had given up. You had once promised Ezra to love him forever yet had believed him dead. You had left Lothal, the planet he had sacrificed everything to protect, and suppressed every memory of him. You had dated around in hopes of forgetting his ghost and tried hard to move on-

All while Sabine had never lost hope. She had always fought for him and looked everywhere. She had never once believed him gone. You had the obligation to search for him as his girlfriend, yet you had failed him. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been truly lost.

The thought makes you want to scream. You grit your teeth tightly until your jaw hurts. If you weren’t so indebted to Sabine for finding a lead, you think you’d want to swing at her. She’s always been better than you. Ezra should have just held out for her all along rather than taking you as a consolation prize.

Feeling suddenly like you’re suffocating, you slam your fist into the control panel to slide open the door. Sabine looks up as you enter and Ahsoka quietly moves to allow you to retake your old seat. You ignore them all as you slide into place and hover your fingers over the tablet.

You need a distraction. Anything to keep the terrible feelings at bay. You slam some keys down until the maps disappear and you’re staring at a blank slate.

Quietly, you bury yourself in your work all the while stewing and boiling with rage.

———————————————

Days later, Sabine’s determination beats you once more. Cornered by Baylan and Shin, you and Sabine are forced to make a choice on what to do. Ashoka is gone and the map is in Sabine’s possession. You two have to decide whether to turn it over to the very people Ahsoka wanted to keep it from or cling to the hope that Ezra can be found.

When Baylan promises to take you both to him, you hesitate. Ahsoka’s words play over and over again in your head. She has long been warning you about what will happen if Thrawn returns. You know she would want you to destroy the map and keep Thrawn in exile forever-

But what about Ezra? Will destroying the map strand him wherever he is forever too? Will you give up your last chance at ever finding him?

Your mind and your heart wage a war. You want desperately to see Ezra again but you remember his sacrifice. You know he’d want to protect the galaxy from the Empire. You don’t know what to do-

In the end, Sabine beats you to it. Better than you in every way, she hands over the map to Baylan. She accepts the terms for you both and tells you to drop your weapon with a calm, clear voice. You both hate her and feel grateful that she’s taken the choice out of your hands.

You let them cuff you and don’t even react when Shin uses the force to cut off your airway. Nothing she could possibly do could hurt more than the ugly feeling of being a disappointment. Once more, Sabine has proven herself a better fit for Ezra than you. Were he to ever find out that you hesitated on this choice, you think he’d leave you once and for all and realize that Sabine has always been better for him.

When you and Sabine face off Thrawn, you hardly pay attention. The villain that plagued you for years hasn’t changed much. His glowing red eyes sweep over you with mild boredom before he directs all his attention at Sabine. He seems genuinely unamused when he realizes Sabine has traded the galaxy for the hope of finding Ezra.

You feel a cold knife twist in your stomach and look away as Sabine faces Thrawn off. There is no hesitation or remorse in her gaze when she coldly tells Thrawn that he could never understand. You wince feeling guilty at the memory of your own hesitation.

It seems like Sabine is the only one completing this journey. When the two of you mount your steeds, it’s her who fights off the bandits. She moves like a lightning strike taking them down while you throw punches and kicks at random barely managing to take down one while she’s got the squad down in moments. When a Noti appears, it’s Sabine who realizes he’s wearing a Jedi symbol on his clothing.

You feel like a shadow merely following her around. Every new revelation and step closer to finding Ezra brings you both joy and envy.

Sabine feels like she’s better suited for the role of Ezra’s partner compared to you. She’s been loyal, determined, and fierce in his search. You, who had a responsibility to find him, had given up. Ezra deserved better than you.

By the time you make it back to Noti’s village, you feel the weight of your own soul crushing you. You feel painfully jealous, angry at yourself, and broken down. You try to ignore Sabine as she urges you forward telling you that something about this particular village feels different.

You’re so downtrodden that you don’t even realize someone is calling your name until you turn your head and hear Sabine’s breath hitch. Time seems to slow down as your eyes meet a striking blue that you haven’t seen in years. Your heart races and you move to run at Ezra-

When Sabine beats you to it.

She all but rushes past you to beat you to Ezra first. Ezra, half way to you, is interrupted as Sabine crashes into him. Her arms wrap around his frame and she buries her head into his neck. He looks like he wants to move to you for a brief moment before he hugs her back and greets her for the first time in ten years.

You hang back awkwardly watching the love of your life embrace someone else. Every hurtful thought you’ve ever heard about not deserving to be at Ezra’s side plays over and over again in your mind. Worse still, you are forced to see how good Sabine looks with Ezra. They click together like puzzle pieces and look perfect. Two halves of the same whole.

A coldness seeps into your very bones. You suppress the tears forming and grit your teeth painfully. If anything, Sabine deserves this moment. She’s the one who found Ezra. You don’t deserve him.

Despite the way it almost kills you to see Sabine steal your moment, you hang back. The ugly insecurities in you taunt and laugh as you watch them. You can’t escape the feeling that you’re an outsider looking in and intruding in a moment that you don’t deserve.

It feels like an eternity when the two of them finally separate. Sabine is smiling wide oblivious to your pain. Slowly, Ezra moves away from her and moves towards you instead. You force yourself to shove aside the familiar jealousy deciding that seeing Ezra again after a decade is worth more than the agony in your chest.

You meet Ezra halfway as he runs. Your own arms wrap around his frame and he all but picks you up to hold you close. He breathes out your name and you’re struck by how different he is.

Your hands shake as you press your palms to his face. He has a beard now, his cheeks are thin, no doubt from the lack of food, and there’s a certain maturity in his eyes that wasn’t there before-

But he’s Ezra.

Tears spill before you can stop them. His fingers wipe them away gently and his smile is bright. He says your name again like a sacred prayer.

“You’re alive,” you whisper. It’s the only sentence that you can form past the haze. Everything feels so surreal.

Ezra stands in front of you. The love of your life. The boy that had won you over ten years ago and never once let you go-

The one a part of you isn’t sure you deserve.

Ezra presses his forehead against yours. A familiar little habit he had back from when you were kids. A way to soothe you and reassure you that everything is going to be okay-

A sob breaks past your lips at the familiar action and you busy yourself burying your head in his chest. He holds you tighter to him. Underneath your palms, his heart races.

For a moment, every insecurity stops. The cold words you tell yourself over and over again in your head quiet for just this one moment. A sense of peace fills you and everything makes sense. For just a moment, all of the pain of the last decade goes away.

Ezra moves his head forward like he’s going to kiss you. He seems hesitant, unsure if he still has the right after a decade, and you want to meet him halfway-

But then Sabine interrupts the moment. She’s being herded by a Noti away and another one chirps out a different language to Ezra. You suddenly remember where you are you and draw back too fast. It feels maddening to separate from him after losing him for so long, but you think it’s better this way. It’s not like you deserve to kiss him after everything you’ve done.

The loss of him hurts like an open wound. You miss holding him. After ten years, you had given up hope of ever having that chance. It feels so cruel to lose it now-

And of course Sabine had to ruin this moment too. She’s always ruined everything for you. Perhaps she’s finally realized her feelings for Ezra and how better she is for him than you.

Your blood feels cold as you watch her grab his arm. She links their arms together and begins speaking. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before a Noti grabs your own arm to tug you forward. You are forced to trail after them feeling like a third wheel among their partnership. Something you’ve tended to always feel when the three of you are together.

They form a good team. It looks entirely natural for the two of them to be together. Sabine just makes sense at his side. She’s saved him after you’d given up, always been beside him throughout your time together as members of the Ghost, and was the first person he was ever interested in. It makes perfect sense for her to be the one with him.

A painful lump forms in your throat and you wave away the Noti’s concern when it curiously looks up at you. You trail silently through the village as Ezra begins to explain everything.

He tells you and Sabine pieces of his time here. He tells you how he and Thrawn made it here, how he ran from Thrawn and found the Noti by chance, and how he’s spent time with them since. They’re a peaceful people and have welcomed him into their ranks. He accompanies them on their travels, but he’s ready to come home.

He smiles at you both as he thanks you for coming back for him. He can’t wait to return to your galaxy and see Hera, Zeb, and Chopper.

Guilt grips you tightly. You don’t have the courage to admit that you had thought him lost. Had it not been for Sabine, he would have remained on this forsaken planet forever.

A coward to the end, you bite your tongue and hesitate at his words. When Ezra tries to move towards you, hand shyly reaching for your own, you move away as if his touch burns. You don’t think you deserve his gratefulness. Not with how awful you’ve been all these years.

It’s almost a relief when Sabine takes over. As much as it pains you to see her slowly replace you, you know you deserve it.

Before Ezra can ask you what’s wrong, you turn away and pretend to be busy with a Noti who is patching up something to the far side of the village. You turn your back on Sabine and Ezra and remain rigid as they walk away. Ezra keeps glancing back at you from time to time while Sabine urges him along to discuss things with him.

By the time they’re finally gone, you wander off further from the village and then promptly bury your head in your hands. The last of your strength leaves you and you sink to the ground below. The pain you’ve been suppressing returns in waves and you give in to the horrible voices that tell you what a terrible person you are and how you don’t deserve Ezra.

———————————————

By the time the sun sets, you’re a ticking time bomb. You’ve spent a long time wallowing in self pity. Everything aches as you make the trek back to the village.

The Noti are tiny, so it’s not hard to spot Sabine and Ezra. Ezra is holding something by the fire while Sabine messes with her vambrace. She seemingly hasn’t told Ezra about how the two of you are stuck here and how Ahsoka is dead.

When you get back, both of their attention is turned towards you. Ezra lights up and waves you over. He means to let you sit with them, but you quickly note that there’s no room. The Noti are half your size and don’t use large spaces. The log Ezra and Sabine sit at is out of room. You have no place beside Ezra with Sabine there.

Suppressing a grimace, you elect to remain standing.

“What are you two up to?” You ask. Your voice sounds colder than you intended, bitter.

Ezra looks at you and you evade his gaze. There’s something deep in his eyes that you don’t want to dwell too long on. He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You have a feeling you aren’t who he remembers.

Good.

Maybe if he no longer recognizes you, he can give you a clean break. It’s become very apparent that you no longer belong at his side. Perhaps if he realizes he made a mistake in choosing you once upon a time, he can find someone better. The sooner he moves on the sooner you can kill what’s left of your broken heart.

Sabine is the one who answers. You’re quite frankly sick of her by then.

“I was telling Ezra everything’s that’s happened since he’s been gone. The Empire, Lothal, everything,” she responds.

Ezra awkwardly nods at her words. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Idly you wonder if Sabine has told Ezra how terrible you’ve been. Wonder if he knows you had given up on the hope of ever seeing him and tried to move on. Is that why he can’t seem to look at you anymore?

Anger and pain throb in your chest. You squeeze your jaw together.

The rest of the night passes far too quickly. Ezra and Sabine chat until the embers of the fire die down. You respond only when necessary and keep your remarks short.

Every once in a while, you think you see Ezra stealing glances at you but you ignore him. It feels like you’re having a terrible out of body experience. You’re so close to him, finally after mourning him for a decade, yet you know you have no right to rejoice at finding him. The guilt and jealousy you feel outweigh everything else.

It’s a mercy when the Noti begin to prepare to sleep. They offer the perfect excuse for the night to finally come to a close.

Ezra stands up and runs a hand through his hair.

“I sleep in the big room over there. It’s as human sized as you can get here. You both look exhausted. The journey here couldn’t have been easy. Why don’t you both take it? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept outside with the Noti,” Ezra offers.

“We can’t take your place-“

“I insist,” Ezra interrupts Sabine, “I’m used to camping out. The Noti constantly move from place to place seeking shelter so sometimes we have to rough it on the ground. It’s nothing unusual. You both can take it.”

Sabine glances at you with a nod of her head.

“Is that alright with you? You wanna share that tent with

me?” She asks.

Both Ezra and Sabine seem to be very interested in your answer. Ezra searches your face for something. You think there’s a question he’s longing to ask, something he’s dying to know, but he can’t bring himself to say it. It seems like he’s too afraid of whatever he thinks he’ll find or won’t find.

Truthfully, you don’t have the patience to speculate on what the two of them are trying to find out. It’s been a long day and you’ve suffered enough already.

You shrug, “Fine.”

A one word response. Sabine blinks and Ezra winces. There’s almost a flash of pain in his gaze before he looks away. You highly suspect that whatever test has just transpired, you’ve failed.

Sabine shares a glance with Ezra. You try to ignore the way the knife in your heart twists to see them communicate silently. Years apart and yet they seem to still know each other well enough to talk through simple glances and looks.

It’s all too much. You spin on your heel and march off mumbling some excuse about being exhausted.

Inside the metal tent, you close your eyes and count to ten. There’s a roar in your ears and a headache forming at the very back of your skull. You aren’t sure how much more this you can take. Already, it feels like you’re hitting a boiling point.

Everything feels terrible. The jealousy, the heartbreak, the anger, the guilt. All of it is becoming too much.

By the time Sabine returns, you’re at your limit. You don’t even flinch when she waves a hand in front of your face to test if you’re paying attention.

“What’s wrong?” She sounds concerned as she peers down at you, “You’ve been out of it all day. I thought you’d be really happy. I mean, we found Ezra-“

A scoff breaks out before you can stop it. You hate that she’s using the word “we.”There is no “we” here. It’s all her. It’s always been her. She’s the hero who saved Ezra. You’re the terrible ex girlfriend that abandoned him.

“I’m just tired,” you shrug. It’s a weak lie. She doesn’t seem to buy it as she presses you more.

“You’re not acting okay. I didn’t think you’d want to share a room with me. I thought you’d make an excuse to get out of it.”

Your eyes roll. She stops and stares at you as if finally realizing just how angry you are.

By now, the pain is cooling to anger. There’s a rage vibrating deep within you towards her. You’d love nothing more than to shut her up once and for all.

She calls your name with a frown. Concern and frustration are evident in her face.

“Seriously, is everything okay? Ezra wanted you to stay with him outside. He was waiting for you to ask to stay with him-“

“Well, didn’t you want to stay with him? You should have volunteered,” you tug angrily at your jacket. The fury is burning you from the inside. You feel like a star about to combust. It takes all of your strength to remain composed.

Sabine has the gall to look confused. She makes a face like she doesn’t get it. You aren’t sure whether she’s being coy or if she’s just dying to hear you spell it out to her.

“What are you talking about?” She moves to grab your arm. Perhaps she wants you to face her and explain why you’re suddenly so angry, “You hurt him, you know. He doesn’t know where he stands with you. You haven’t spoken to him or made a move. He’s scared you’ve moved on-“

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll comfort him. You’ve been much better for him than me,” you bite.

Again, there’s a moment of confusion. By now, Sabine herself is growing frustrated with your attitude. It seems she can’t wrap her head around why you’re so upset.

“What is wrong with you? Seriously. You finally get Ezra back and you just ice him out-“

Something snaps. The anger you’ve been suppressing spills forward like a dam. Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you’re shoving her as hard as you can away from you. There’s a sense of satisfaction in the way you take her by surprise. She’s much stronger than you, yet you manage to make her slam into the metal walls. Her armor makes a satisfying thud when it collides against them.

“Oh, shut up, Sabine!”

You move to shove her again, rage boiling over.

It’s all too much. Every negative emotion you’ve been feeling since Sabine unlocked the map where you failed has spilled over. You feel like a bomb exploding. You aren’t a violent person, yet you find yourself pushing her again.

This time, she’s ready for you. Her eyes are wide and there’s shock in her voice when she calls your name. She grabs your wrist and twists you around until she’s holding your arms in place. A move you had only ever seen her do on stormtroopers.

“Maker, what’s wrong-?”

Her voice trails off in shock as you shove off her hold. You press your hands to your face feeling adrenaline course through your veins. It burns white hot against your skin. You swear you feel your blood boiling.

“Do you know how sick I am of you?” You jab a finger at the center of her chest plate, “You just have to rub everything in. I get it, alright? I get that you’re better than me. You have always been better at everything. I never stood a chance.”

You back away from her suddenly feeling like you’re boxed in. The anger is coursing red hot but there’s something else there. It’s all consuming and harsh. You feel it practically strangling you.

While you are threatened by Sabine’s presence, some part of you knows it’s not just her that’s causing this outburst. Really, it’s more than that. A part of you is just angry with yourself.

It’s yourself you despise. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been stuck here forever. You had given up on ever finding him. For all your promises of loving him years ago, you had simply given up. He would have never have given up on you.

Spinning around, you press your fists against your eyelids to try and stop the tears forming behind your eyes.

“You found him. I gave up on him,” you whisper. It’s a harsh admission out loud, “You’re better than me. He deserves better. He deserves you.”

Sabine is stunned. She blinks and makes a face like she can’t believe what you just said. You don’t have it in you to explain. The anger is slowly becoming despair. You want nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and die.

“What? I-Do you-Is that what this is about? You think I have feelings for Ezra?” She takes you by the shoulders and holds you steady.

You’re shaking, you realize. Your hands are quivering and your breath is coming out in short pants. A panic attack.

“Don’t you?” You bite the inside of your cheek to quell the rising panic. Your chest feels too tight. It constricts against your clothing, “It’s okay if you do. He’s always liked you. You could make him happier. You didn’t give up on him like I did.”

It hurts to say everything out loud. You don’t think you could survive seeing Sabine with Ezra. It would break whatever remnants of your heart are still working, but you wouldn’t stand in their way. Ezra deserves to be happy and you’re not the person that can give that to him. If Sabine can, then she should. It would break you, but you deserve it. An atonement for your sins.

Sabine calls out your name. She pulls your arms away from your face and shakes her head firmly. She looks stunned and hurt. She’s hurt by your words.

“I don’t like Ezra romantically. He’s a brother to me. That’s it. He loves you-“

You close your eyes against the rising panic. It takes all your willpower to remember how to breathe. It feels like something has gotten a hold of your body. You feel everything mounting until it bursts. Emotions and words pour out of you. You aren’t sure just what you’re saying. Everything feels like it’s happening far away.

“He had a crush on you first. He didn’t even look at me until he realized you weren’t interested. I always knew I was his second choice. I was always so angry with you. You two spent so much time together. I was always just counting the days until he left me for you. You two just fit together. Ten years later and you two can just go back to being close. I don’t know how I could ever face him knowing that I gave up-“

The feeling of choking returns. You press your hand to your chest feeling like your lungs will give out. There’s a painful squeeze to your heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like-?

Suddenly someone is taking you gently by the shoulders. Familiar hands press against your face cradling you softly. You hear your name whispered in a low voice. You know who it is without even opening your eyes.

Ezra.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe with me,” he whispers. He shows you some deep breaths. His arms hold you in place firmly but not tightly. It’s his way of showing you that he’s here. That you’re not alone.

Slowly you try and copy his breaths. It’s a struggle to do it. It feels like every painful gasp of air you inhale rattles against your lungs. It takes much longer than it should to finally regulate your breathing.

By the time the panic attack is finally underway, you feel exhausted. There’s a heaviness to your body you haven’t felt in a while. You’re shaking as Ezra slowly moves you towards a makeshift bed. He eases you gently into a sitting position. Idly, you realize that Sabine is inching out of the encampment probably wanting to give you and Ezra space to talk.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? A blanket?” Ezra kneels to be eye level with you. His eyes are concerned, scared for you.

It’s not fair. He’s the one who’s been lost for ten years, yet here he is worried about you. You don’t deserve him.

That’s what finally does you in. You begin to sob and press your hands firmly to your face. The tears pour out of you. It’s been a long ten years. Everything just shatters.

In the last decade, you’ve cried more times than you want to admit. Grief has been a friend for ages. You’ve cried until you had nothing more to give, yet this breakdown feels different. There’s a war or emotions pouring out of you. Anger, grief, jealousy, insecurity, pain. They rush over you in waves to the point where you feel like you’re being physically crushed under the weight of them.

Ezra wraps his arms around you and lets you cry against his shoulder. He holds you firmly in place whispering words of encouragement. You don’t deserve it. You weakly fight against his hold.

Words spill forth in a whisper before you even realize half of what you’re saying. There’s just a frantic need to pour everything out. The admissions slip from your tongue without truly registering in your brain. You just need him to understand why he should hate you.

“I gave up on ever finding you. I spent an entire year unable to get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t think. Every little thing reminded me of you. I thought I was going to go insane. Everyone was worried about me. Hera had just had Jacen, yet she was taking care of me instead of her newborn. It felt horrible to worry everyone. At some point, I just had to let you go. I told myself you were dead and mourned you. I needed the closure so I gave up. If you were gone forever, then I could slowly move forward. I didn’t want to but it was breaking me. Thinking that you were out here somewhere was driving me insane.”

Ezra holds you tighter at your admission. You’re not sure but you swear you think you can hear him say he’s sorry. It’s heartbreaking for him to apologize. He’s the one that you’ve wronged.

“I couldn’t move on from you. I tried dating again a few years after you were gone but never made it past the first or second date. Everyone was all wrong. They just weren’t you. I kept telling myself that you were gone and that I should move on, but I couldn’t. I was driving myself crazy with grief. I even had a falling out with Sabine. Sabine kept searching for you. She never stopped. She’s the one who found you. Had it not been for her, you would have been lost forever. She’s better than me. You deserve better,” you force yourself to look at his eyes and are shocked when you see that he’s crying too. You never meant to hurt him but the confessions keep pouring out, “I know you liked her first. You only started dating me because she didn’t like you back. I told myself all these years that, that was okay. I loved you enough to be your second choice. Then these last ten years happened and they made me realize that I don’t deserve you. I gave up on you. She didn’t. She-you both make perfect sense. You just click with each other. She’s a better choice for you. I love you, but I know you’d be happier with her. She was your first choice after all.”

Now that everything is out, you feel tired. You bury your face in his shoulder and feel the way his heart is racing. His body feels tense as he lets all your words sink in.

“What? Do you think I like Sabine?” He sounds stunned. Gently, he pulls you away so that he can look at your eyes.

His eyes are red and there’s tears running down his face. He looks heartbroken. He calls your name softly and his voice cracks.

“You’re not my second choice, Maker. I’ve loved you for over a decade. It’s always been you. I admired Sabine when we were kids, but I always saw her as a sister. That’s all she is. You’re the one I’ve loved all these years. I dreamt of you every night, I tried using the force to find you whenever I meditated, the thought of you has kept me going all these years. It’s you that kept me alive. Any time I wanted to give up, I remembered you and everyone else back home and that kept me going. You were never my second choice. You’ve always been my only love. Always,” his fingers wipe away your tears and his breath stutters, “I thought you’d moved on. You didn’t want to spend time around me. You pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I thought you didn’t care me for me anymore. I was going to accept that. It’s been ten years. You didn’t know I was still alive. If you had moved on and married someone else, I would have never held it against you. Don’t blame yourself for needing to move forward.”

“You wouldn’t have given up on me. Ezra, you would have been lost without Sabine. I thought you were gone.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Ezra would have never given up hope. He would have kept searching until the very end. You didn’t.

His hold on you tightens.

“Ten years. I was gone for ten years. I don’t blame you for thinking I was dead. Maker, the ship had lost its airlock. I thought I was going to die when we hit hyperspace. You had no way of knowing I was alive. Sabine said you all only thought I was still alive when Ahsoka heard rumors about Thrawn returning. There’s no way anyone could have predicted I was in another galaxy,” he says.

You keep your eyes closed.

The rumors about Thrawn’s return are what had made this entire search possible. You had dropped everything when Hera and Ahsoka had commed you and rushed back to help the search. Sabine was steps ahead of you which hurts to admit, but you had rushed back to help.

Wearily, you think of everything you’ve done so far.

You think of how Ahsoka refused to train you in favor of Sabine because she said you were ‘too attached’ to be open to the force. You think of how you couldn’t open the map and had spent hours turning it every which way until your fingers had cramped and bled trying to pry it open. You remember that terrible moment where Shin and Baylan had you cornered, how they had offered you and Sabine passage to Ezra in exchange for the map. Logic would have had you destroy the map and prevent Thrawn from ever returning. Ahsoka would have wanted it that way, yet you had hesitated too. Your brain had said you needed to destroy it, but your heart had frozen. Destroying it meant never finding Ezra. You had let Sabine take over on that choice and hadn’t protested when she handed the map over. You’re sure now you would have made the same choice albeit not as fast as her.

As if sensing where your thoughts are going, Ezra places his forehead to yours. His way for reassuring you.

“I don’t blame you for anything. I’m sorry I hurt you all these years. If you’ve moved on, I get it. Just please don’t feel guilty you had to think I was dead to survive. Forgive yourself,” he urges.

You snap your eyes open startled.

“Ezra, I’ve never moved on. I love you. I have for all these years. I was just too guilty to express it. Sabine found you. I gave up. You deserve better. The two of you could-“

Suddenly Ezra dives forward. His lips press to yours and he holds you in place tightly. You make a sound of surprise before giving in.

It feels like something between you clicks. The world stops and everything feels so natural as you kiss him back. It’s been ten years since you’ve last been able to hold him. You don’t think you can survive another ten without him. You barely made it through these last few years.

He feels like home. After all the suffering and the self loathing, kissing him feels like everything is falling into place.

After a long kiss that takes your breath away, he withdraws. His breath is a harsh pant. His beard tickles your face as he presses smaller kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You cling to him tighter and take in the feeling of being in his arms again.

“I love you,” he breathes out, “It’s only ever been you. Please don’t say you don’t deserve me. You kept me alive all these years. It’s always been you.”

The last of your energy snaps. You feel so painfully exhausted. You cling to him tightly and let him move you back to the bed. He climbs in next to you and holds you to him as if he’s afraid to let you go.

Everything you’ve been through today makes you feel so tired. You want nothing more than to go to sleep and come back to this tomorrow. You don’t have the energy to keep going today.

Thankfully, Ezra doesn’t withdraw. Instead, he climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close. All of those terrible voices in your head quiet when he presses another kiss to your forehead.

You close your eyes feeling everything fading. The two of you aren’t done discussing this. He still needs to know that you love him too and that you are sorry for everything that’s happened. You also will have to apologize to Sabine tomorrow. It’s not her fault your own insecurities turned against her.

Still, for now, this moment feels like peace.

You curl into his arms and hold him tight the way you used to when you were young. He holds you to him and refuses to let you go. In a low whisper, you tell him you love him. As you drift off, you hear him say it back.

And for the first time in ten years, you finally feel a semblance of peace.

#ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger / reader #star wars rebels #ahsoka show #star wars

[kometqh]

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Reader Pt. 1 Rex tells the story of his first love, his first heartbreak, his one last regret. Word Count: 1,166 Warnings: None (from what I can tell) A/N: This is meant to be a multiple-part story, the second chapter will be out soon!

"Rex? How come you're so good with kids?" Hera's soft voice rung out in the almost empty cockpit of the Ghost. It was an early afternoon when Kanan, Ezra, Zeb and Sabine left, leaving the two captains behind. And Chopper.

They had been sent on another stealth mission, something about retrieving data on the Empires latest star fighters. Now it was the early hours of the evening, and they still weren't back.

"Huh?" He hummed as he turned around, his swivel chair squeaking in protest at the sudden movement. "What do you mean?"

He had an inkling of an idea of what she meant, though he wasn't too happy to pursue this topic. Play stupid, yes, play stupid, Rex thought as he nervously made eye contact. Maybe she'll drop it.

"Oh come on Rex, you know exactly what I mean. You're practically a second father to our youngest ones!" She exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribcage as she leaned over, egging him on.

"Beep boop!" Chopper added, his tiny, robotic arms raising into the air.

Rex left out a soft grunt at the sudden dig, recoiling into the soft cushion of his chair. He rummaged through his thoughts, trying to form the most believable lie in the next five seconds, before the two managed to catch on.

The cogs in his brain turned, working overtime as Rex dragged on the silence, scratching at his beard in thought.

After a few moments, he let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping.

"I-I'm not sure this is appropriate, Hera." His voice was soft and yet firm, he used it often on his brothers back in the day when they wanted to disobey command, he agreed, and yet followed orders like a good soldier.

In response he received a confused 'huh' before a sudden pain erupted in his shin. That goddamn clanker!

A grunt left his lips as Rex attempted to smack the top of Chopper's metallic head, a slight burning pain erupting in his palm as the robot mechanically cackled, enjoying Rex's demise.

Though to Hera and Chopper this was a sweet, lighthearted moment, to Rex it was a sticky situation. He hadn't yet told the others of this part of his past, and he wasn't sure he wanted to dip his fingertips in deeply drowned memories.

"Oh come on, you know we won't judge." Hera continued, wiggling her eyebrows at the older man. "And plus, this is great for team bonding." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, trying her best to look as convincing as possible.

The two got on well, being somewhat close in age even with Rex looking like a grandpa. He still had the refreshing energy and spirit of a young man, but he also had the knowledge and experience of an experienced veteran. How fitting.

Rex would do anything but talk about this. The room felt a little too hot for his liking, his heart beating harshly against his rib cage.

"It's a bit hot in here, isn't it?" He asked, getting up and moving over to the temperature control panel.

Though as his gaze moved from the control panel to his fellow captain, Rex couldn't help but sigh out loud, his head hanging down. "Fine. You got me."

Before she could even proclaim her victory, Hera was quickly hushed by Rex.

"Just know this doesn't have a happy ending." He warned, crossing his arms over his chest. All of a sudden, the cool steel grey of the cabin seemed more inviting to look at than his fellow crew members.

Leaning back against the wall, Rex thought over how to tell her. These.. Memories, these events, he had hidden them away deep within his subconscious, like sacred mementos in a time pod.

Only a few people were allowed to dig them back up, if they hadn't been by his side as he lived through them.

I guess it's their time now too.

A heavy sigh and a shake of his head later, Rex was feeling ready enough. As ready as he could be.

"Long ago-"

"You sound old."

"Be quiet," Rex hissed out, his words whistling out like bullets from a gun.

He could tell Hera meant it as a joke, but this wasn't something he could bring himself to joke about.

"Long ago, when I was just a shiny, I met this.. Girl."

"Ooo."

"It was during one of my first missions," He paused, observing the scratched out pattern on the floor, "She was caught in the crossfire, and I saved her." He felt his chest twist as more words spilled from his lips. Even though so many years had passed, the memories still felt as fresh as the day they were formed.

He couldn't stop now. He wouldn't. 

"As we made our escape, a plasma bolt grazed her hand, and she fainted and then we defeated the bad guys and my brother Kix had gone off to tend her wound, he was a medic clone, y'know." His shoulders shook as he scoffed, remembering how well Kix had handled the situation.

"She was so.. So weird. She insisted on walking herself home, but then proceeded to get lost on our ship. So I had to find her and escort her, like a gentleman," He paused, his gaze locked onto a scratch of the ships floor, "I think that was the first time I ever felt like a human, like a man."

"From there on, we became closer. She was moved t Coruscant and so I was able to see her during every shore leave. We wrote letters to each other, we went out together, we slept together. Waking up to her by my side was like a dream come true. Until it wasn't."

At that, Hera's posture straightened out a little. She wasn't sure where this was going, and she could feel Chopper shielding himself with her leg.

"My duty to the Galactic Republic outweighed my duty.. My loyalty to her. I left her when she needed me most." He paused again, this time his shoulders shaking, tears tiptoeing at the edge of his waterline. "She wasn't my priority. And neither was Tala."

"Rex-"

"I spent so many months, weeks, days yearning for her. She was there when I closed my eyes, reaching out to me, she was as beautiful as a morning sunshine, her eyes held so much love for me. And I abandoned her." He paused, hiding his face in one hand, seemingly pushing the tears back with his thumb and forefinger. "Tala was three when I left, and I hadn't seen them since."

Silence fell over the trio. Rex didn't want to continue, and Hera was at a complete loss for words. Even Chopper, the usually chippy chirpy robot, had nothing to beep out at this.

Simply put, nobody knew that side to Rex.

"R-Rex I- I don't know what to say.."

"It's fine. I've made my peace with it." He waved her off, the tears having evaporated from his eyes in mere seconds.

"Are they.. alive?"

He felt his breath get caught in his throat, encircling and squeezing at his wind pipe like a tight fist.

"I.. I don't know."

#captain rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw #sw tcw #captain rex #ct 7567 #commander rex #501st x reader #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex x you #angst #fluff #jedi #order 66 #star wars rebels #hera syndulla