#Star Wars Fan fic

[99tech99]

me, writing a 1.5k word fan fic that will be read by 10 people, liked by 3, and reblogged by 0:

spends an hour researching tie defenders to make sure i have the correct specs for when i mention it (one time), for when my fic takes place within the rebels/thrawn trilogy timeline

george lucas:

i dont give a fuck. no fucks. literally not a single solitary fuck. about anything. in fact i want to make sure there is not a fuck to be found within 100 yards of anywhere star wars is being written, rehearsed, shot, or edited.

[megamindsecretlair]

Qimir x reader 🥺

Ask and receive, anon! Have you been peeking at my drafts??

We Are the Night - Chapter 1

Masterlist Chapter 2

Pairing: Qimir x Jedi!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Tame, nothing explicit. There's teasing though, if you squint. Possible dark elements, but always consensual. Corruption kink. I spit on Star Wars canon. I will borrow some of Osha's backstory, but some things will be changed.

Summary: You end up crash landing onto the planet that Qimir calls home. He rescues you, but you have no way of going home, no way of letting anyone know where you are. Qimir talks a good game, but can you trust him?

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3,406

A/N: Ahhhhhh, this show has rotted my brain and I'm not even an enemies to lovers girlie! But I need that man like a bad habit! Toss a coin to your bloggers by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged howling in my asks.

Taglist: @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Loud, obnoxious beeping roused you into consciousness. Your eyes were gritty, dry, seemingly glued shut. But you forced them open anyway. Light from overhead seared your retinas and you shut it with a groan. You licked your dry lips and tried to turn your head.

Stars, your head was killing you. Achy. Unsettling. The beeps and alarms weren’t going anywhere, however, and you were the only one in this tin can. You didn’t remember passing out. 

You wracked your brain trying to think of what happened. But the last thing you remembered was…talking to…setting coordinates for…fuck, it was on the tip of your tongue to say it but you couldn’t find the words. 

The alarms were starting to pulse in time with your headache. You took a few deep breaths, staring up at your ceiling, which was just a glass dome overlooking the galaxy. You were speeding somewhere and it couldn’t be anywhere good if the alarms had anything to say about it. 

Tears pricked your eyes but you didn’t have time for any of that. You grunted and groaned as you climbed off of your floor. Just sitting up knocked the breath out of you. Struggling to your feet took tremendous strength that you just didn’t have. 

Your hand clutched onto the vinyl pilot’s seat as you pulled yourself to standing. A sharp pain pierced your side. The ship lurched to the right and you stumbled, knocking your shoulder against the side of the cockpit. You cried out. Everything hurt!

You gritted your teeth and found the energy to look down, inspecting yourself. You still wore the same outfit, cargo pants, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and your utility vest. A dark red stain spread across the expanse of your cargo pants. Your shirt soaked up much of the blood, too dark to distinguish between the two. 

You lifted the edges of your shirt to reveal a gushing wound in your side. The sight of your own blood nearly made you swoon. There was so much. You looked towards the floor where you had been laying. There was a generous pool there. Your heart sank. How long were you out?

The ship lurched again, metal ripping, gears shifting, and you stumbled forward. Your navigation panels were all over the place. Red buttons flashed, the alarm screeched, and the other screens blinked on and off. If nothing else, you were in deep fucking trouble. 

You cried out as you flopped into the pilot’s seat. The ship you were in was careening decidedly down, though you weren’t sure why. Out of the corner of your eye, there was movement. You looked to the right to see a bit of smoke. 

You leaned your face against the window, trying to look as far as you could at the gaping hole in the escape pod’s wing. Escape pod? The hell? 

The ship gave a decidedly crude groan and shutter that did not sound good at all. You flipped through your switches trying to turn the damn alarm off. You were woozy, feeling lightheaded and sick, but you needed to think. Now that you were awake, the pains and aches in your body started vying for your attention.

Your foot hurt like hell, your side was killing you, and there was a damn crick in your neck. Focus. Focus. 

You pressed the button to open a wide range channel. “H-Hello? Anyone out there? I’m in trouble,” you said. Your voice was strained, dry, and you coughed from disuse. You knew that you didn’t want to draw the attention of bad characters like pirates or opportunists. But anything was better than imminent death. 

“Please, I don’t know where I am,” you said into the comms. Nothing. No static. Tears gathered in your eyes once more. If you weren’t a failed Jedi, maybe you could figure out a way out of this. Maybe you could have used the Force, meditated and connected with someone, anyone, who could come rescue you. 

You hung your head. There’s no use crying when your life was in the balance. So you swiped at your tears, careful not to smear blood on your face, and refocused on the job at hand. One of these damn switches had to turn off the alarms. 

You grabbed hold of the steering wheel, pulling back on it. No such luck. The ship gave a shudder, a groan, a keening whine and then boom! The ship spun out of control. As the ship twisted and turned, more black smoke emanated from the right wing. Said wing was flung from the ship, spinning away from you faster and faster.

“Oh shit,” you whispered. It wasn’t necessarily needed to fly, but it kept your ship balanced and steady upon take off and arrival. How the hell were you going to land now? 

Shit, shit, shit! You strapped on the seatbelts on your seat and held on as the ship spun and spun. Spun so fast it was a dizzying array of stars overhead, making you sick, Making your stomach flip and flop and threatened to upchuck whatever your last meal was. Whenever that was. 

The ship stopped spinning as if it had been yanked by an invisible chain. Now, it just careened forward, plummeting as you felt the drop in your stomach. A blue planet loomed before you. The sun was on the far side of the planet, illuminating wondrous and endless blue. 

Shit. The last thing you needed was to land on an ocean planet. No land for miles in any direction, no navigational charts to pull you to safety, and no way to communicate that you were there. You didn’t want to die alone on a planet like that. Starved. Pathetic. 

You closed your eyes as the ship rushed towards that planet as if it were calling you there. A beacon. You had nothing but precious few seconds to think about your life’s choices and how you arrived here. At the forefront of it all, if you had just stayed with your mothers, would you have still ended up here? 

The front end of the ship began to burn up as your shields started to break down. The force and speed of your descent made the cabin burn up from entering the atmosphere. 

It was all in sickening high resolution. You watched your final moments like a holo-program, can’t watch but unable to look away. Metal plates began to break away from your ship. One flew into the windshield with a hard thud. The ship dropped down, so that you were nearly vertical staring at the expanse of water.

As you got closer, you realized that there was something worse than heading for a planet made of water. That same planet having jagged and rocky islands. You were too far away to scan for any signs of life. Equipment too badly damaged to run a digital scan. 

You prayed and prayed and hoped that the Force had mercy on you as you went crashing down. You missed a large island by yards, plunging into the murky, deep ocean. Your body snagged against the seatbelt, digging into your chest and sending fresh waves of pain down your body from the wound in your side. The inertia after the initial crash smacked you head first against the window to your left. 

Darkness filled your eyes as you blinked, watching as the ocean swallowed you whole. Alone. With no one to even know you were there.

When you awoke, you sucked in a deep breath of air as if you had been drowning. You settled back against the bed with a soft sigh, trying to recall such a horrid dream. As if you had been lost on a random planet, alone and afraid.

You flipped over in bed, side protesting in pain. You looked down at yourself. Your vest was gone and your shirt had been cut across the hem, giving you a midriff. You went to sit up, but a sudden rush of nausea made you lay back down and take deep breaths.

Your head swam with a headache that hurt enough to make you chew bricks. You rubbed your head, feeling your feverish wet skin. Your vision swam. It could be shock or it could be because you tried sitting up, but you closed your eyes and immediately fell back asleep.

When you woke up again, it was slower this time. A soft, rushing sound was off in the distance. You blinked your eyes a few times and let your vision settle naturally on the room around you.

You were in some kind of cave? Underground surely. Natural by the look of the jagged rocks surrounding you. You were lying on a bed. Not the most comfortable mattress in the world, but it beat even the Jedi temple in terms of stiffness. 

How did you get here? You had no memory of climbing into this place. Or finding a bed. Or stitching yourself up. Your hands floated over your side, feeling a faint scar as if you hadn’t had anything there at all. 

You remembered being in pain. You remembered being on the ship. It was all still so fuzzy, but you remembered that you were desperately trying to escape a different planet. You were on a ship with Sol.

Fear punched you in the throat and then dragged icy nails across your chest. Sol. Yord. Jecki. A sob caught in your throat as you thought about the horrible, awful cruelty of it all. The merchant who was not a merchant. 

You winced as you recalled your last few hours. Or was it days? You, Sol, and Jecki had barely gotten away. Your sister attacked you on the way back to the ship, fighting to get away from her master. 

Mae went on about her misconceptions about you. Spit had flown from her mouth with the absolute venom pouring off of her in waves. How she blamed you for everything. You for leaving. You for abandoning them. You for groveling like some dog before the Jedi. 

“Shut up!” You had yelled and you fought and fought. Mae was always better at using the Force. She had knocked you flat on your back. You had came to moments later, Mae nowhere in sight.

You ran for the shore as best as you were able, wound in your side preventing you from jogging faster. You had to get to Sol and Jecki before Mae did. 

You found Jecki’s body lying face down on the ground, three neat wounds in her chest still smoking. You covered your mouth with your hand, biting back tears and a scream. You were going to kill Mae, if it was the last thing you did. 

Escaping the planet was a blur. Sol hadn’t left yet. But Mae found you on the ship first. She beat you again, catching you unawares like a newborn baby. She pushed you into an escape pod, hit the eject button too quick for you to stop her. Next thing you knew, you were thrust off into space, banging on the window as if it would make a difference. Once more, you were looking up to Mae as she looked down on you. The pod went into hyperspace, off to who knew where. 

You curled in on yourself as you relived those moments. The fear, the anger, the betrayal. Mae was going to complete her goal. She was going to kill Sol and leave you with no one again.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice said.

You flinched, sitting up in bed nausea be damned. A man stood in the entrance to the cave-like room, wearing a white shirt and dark pants. His hair hung in tendrils in front of his face and he had short facial hair. 

He carried a bowl with steam rising from it. “Thought you might be up and brought you some soup,” he said.

“You,” you whispered.

How could it be? You had escaped. You were far from him. How was this murderer here? Walking freely when your friends were dead? 

“It’s not poison if that’s what you think. That’s no fun,” he said. His voice was deceptively calm and relaxed. One would almost call it lazy. 

He placed the bowl beside you and then backed away slowly, hands out, palm side up. He moved across the room until he sat down on a stump, picking up tools.

“Where am I?” 

“I could tell you…” he said, letting his words hang in the air.

“So?” You asked.

He looked back at you and smirked. “Wrong question,” he said.

“What?” You lowered the blanket from your chest, having covered yourself when Qimir entered the room. His back was towards you, there was nothing he was going to do for the moment. 

“Ask me what you really want to know,” he said. 

You ran your tongue over your canine as you looked at him in an all new light. How the hell did he know what you wanted to ask before you did? 

“How did you find me?” You asked.

“I felt you,” he said, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

You slowly lifted the blanket back up to your chest, feeling his words rush over your skin. He was repulsive. A murderer. Evil. His words shouldn’t sound like…that or affect you like…that. 

“Not many can find this planet. It’s long forgotten on most star maps. Early this morning, I felt an approaching presence. I went outside and saw your ship, lit up like a star. Wasn’t hard to find the wreckage from there,” he said.

You wanted to call him a liar. That was what evil murderers did. But you felt nothing but the truth from him. “Thank you,” you said and looked away from him, hugging your middle.

He saluted you with two fingers from his temple and returned to whatever it was he was doing. You felt silly looking at his back. His wide back. You’ve gotten a few glances at a rough, razed scar on his back. You wondered about it but kept your mouth shut in case he was sensitive about it. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You were worried about his feelings? He was the one who had kidnapped you, brought you to this cave, and offered you poisonous soup. You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. 

“What is that?” You asked. Your curiosity would always get the better of you. That helmet scared the absolute taste of your mouth, but you were also deeply intrigued by it. The shape, the color. The teeth.

“Eat your soup and I’ll tell you,” he said. How the hell could he know you weren’t eating? His back was still turned towards you.

“You project your emotions,” he said. Your name slipped from his lips softly. You shook your head. 

“I do not,” you said.

Qimir chuckled and went back to fiddling with his helmet. You waited a few more moments, looking between his helmet and the bowl of soup. You didn’t want to risk sudden death, but you also really wanted to know about his helmet.

You kissed your teeth and grabbed the bowl of soup. It looked sort of appetizing, filled with soft fish and veggies. You grabbed the spoon, swirling the soup around and around the bowl. 

“You can do it,” he said. Your eyes flicked to him, and he was half turned in your direction. You scowled at him as he smirked at you. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, rising to his bait. You drank straight from the bowl, letting the herbs, spices, and flavor explode on your tongue. It wasn’t half bad for a planet with no land animals. 

Qimir smirked when you came up for air. He tapped the top of his helmet. “Cartosis. Handy against lightsabers,” he said.

“How do you have a lightsaber?” You asked. When you left the Order, you had to give yours up. You felt terrible. You had worked so hard on finding the right crystal, building your saber from the ground up. Designing it to fit perfectly in your hand. 

“You’re full of questions,” he said. 

“You’re full of non-answers,” you countered.

He tilted his head and conceded the point. “I used to be like you. Young, stars in my eyes, believing in the Order.”

“Is that how you got the scar?” You asked. Fine. You couldn’t help it. 

“I believed in someone I shouldn’t have,” he said. 

He grabbed his tools, gathered them in a box, and then stood up from his seat. “It’s like a sensory deprivation headpiece, like we used as Younglings. You should try it on,” he said. He smirked at you like he knew what your answer was going to be. 

“I’m not trying that thing on,” you said.

He smirked and you hated that look on his face. “What are you so afraid of? That you might look into the Force and have it stare right back?” 

“Is that what it’s for?” You asked. You didn’t need to get into the gritty details of your connection to the Force or lack thereof. It was about mental discipline. It all but faded from your fingertips the moment you stepped out of the temple for good.

“If you’re that curious, take a look,” he said. He smirked one final time, heading off to wherever he came from. 

“How long are you going to keep me here?” You asked.

He stopped at the entrance to the room and looked sideways at you. “That depends on you,” he said.

He left the room, leaving you to stew in your thoughts. You finished off the rest of the soup. If it was poison, at least it tasted good on the way down. Left to your own devices, there was nothing to do but either go back to sleep or stare at the helmet.

You looked at its crude design. Designed to incite fear and command respect. You recalled how fluidly he moved. How precise he was in his maddening dance of ruthlessness. How sure of himself he was.

You’d never been sure of anything in your life. You always felt like an outcast. An outsider. You floated between groups of people, never belonging to any of them. Strangely, way deep down inside, you felt a certain…pull here. A deep settling in your bones.

You shook your head, fighting off that wayward thought. You had to focus on getting out of here. Of finding his ship and escaping before he grew tired of you and killed you. 

Your eyes flitted to the helmet once more. As if it were silently calling you. Taunting you. If you strained to listen, you could just make out a voice. 

Screw it. What was the worst that could happen?

You placed the bowl on the chair in front of you and crossed the rocky floor towards Qimir’s workbench. You grabbed the helmet and sat down, staring at it. Slowly, you brought it over your head. It was larger than you thought it would be, but somehow so small you started to hyperventilate. 

All you could hear was the sound of your rapidly increasing breaths. You couldn’t see anything out of the helmet. Only feel. Hear. Your hands clutched the side of the helmet, feeling like it was crushing your skull with every breath that you took.

You felt a lazy eye open somewhere. Like you were staring at some great beast, who’s body spanned the universe. And it turned that eye on you. In a panic, you screeched and tore off the helmet, tossing it onto the desk and backed away from it. You nearly fell off of the ledge trying to get away.

You stared at the visage. The harsh smile gleaming silver. It was turned on its side, face plate towards you. Mocking you. 

You turned your back from it and leaned against a stony wall. Jagged pieces of rock bit into your palm but you welcomed the pain. Welcomed the reminder that you were alive, by the grace of Qimir, but alive. And you still had your wits about you. You were not going to let him corrupt you.

You believed in right from wrong. You believed in the side of the Jedi. If nothing else, you knew that you would never, ever side with the likes of Qimir.

Masterlist | Chapter 2

[twinklerei]

So- I was writing my fic, which I wont enter in too much details, but I was thinking, in this Au where Padme lives, and Obi Wan thinks he killed Anakin in mustafar and he doesnt know he is alive as Vader, obviusly Padme thinks the same, that her husband died in mustafar by Obi Wan Kenobi.

So idk how to characterize this, would Padme have resent to Obi Wan for "killing Anakin"? Like I know she knows that he falled to the dark side and that- but in her last words she thinked that there still was good in him, so I dont think she would want him to die- but- Im confused and idk what to do.

Please writers and readers, help this is important for the fic.

[skellymom]

"Cup Of Caf"

The Bad Batch CROSSHAIR One Shot

Crosshair x NON GENDERED Reader (PLEASE put YOURSELF into this story! <3)

Background: Crosshair makes it to Pabu with all of his brothers and sister. Will he open himself up to another? What's his future there?

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning: Really none. This is sweetness, some angsty fluff, and character growth. Purposely wrote this piece for ANY reader! You can take this tale as friendship or the start of a blossoming love relationship. And, I purposely wrote NO GENDER/NO SPECIFIC SEXUALITY/POSSIBLY EVEN AGENDER into this story. It's about healing, sharing, growing, and decisions at one of many crossroads in life. Sometimes it's painful, but growth can be.

This One Shot is dedicated to Crosshair Fans, those of you struggling with hard decisions in life, loneliness, and to the amazing @lightspringrain whose art was one of my inspirations for this story.

(Her Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LightSpringRain Just placed my order for the holidays!

(Credit: Dividers by the talented @saradika)

The leaves of the Cascade Tree rippled lazily in the ocean breeze.  Its boughs lifted just enough to reveal a man with a scarred head sitting under its canopy at the picnic table. 

You were surprised to see someone sitting there at... “your” table.  Not really yours, but no one else ever came down this far from the cliffs to watch the surf foam and roil against the shores of Pabu.  Every morning walking down to enjoy your cup of caf before starting the day.  Today, you were testing out a new mug, fresh off the pottery wheel: Jet black clay with metallic silver phases of the moon depicted in striking detail across its surface.  Debated selling this piece, hardly ever keeping anything for yourself. 

The man’s back was facing you at quiet approach.  He side-eyed you suspiciously, scowling.  Immediately recognized him as the newcomer to the island that arrived with his brothers and one sister.  Phee Genoa gushed about the one named, “Tech”.  She called him “Brown Eyes”.  This was the “Grumpy Brother” and was already gaining a reputation as anti-social. 

“Uh...hi.” 

Silence and unchanging side-eye.  He didn’t move from the spot and clearly wanted to be left alone. 

“Ok, leaving.” 

No reply.  He turned back around to stare at the crashing surf. 

The next morning you arrived with your fully vetted new mug of caf to find...The Grumpy Man back in “your” spot. 

Kriff...what to do?  This was awkward.  While feeling rather put out and wanting to sit alone, you kind of felt for the guy.  The gossip around town was he had been through a lot before arriving in Pabu. 

Looking down at the untouched cup of caf:  How many people, yourself included, came to this planet looking for solace and safety?  How many of the residents of Pabu arrived with baggage before they healed and found community here?  How long did it take to be comfortable with others again? 

Your heart went out to the man all by himself sitting there.  It was an amazing view and perfect place to be alone. 

He turned, almost like he had heard your brain humming.  Again, scowling over his shoulder.  You stepped closer, but he didn’t budge and kept the suspicious side-eye.  You approached the table and set the steaming mug next to him. 

He seemed briefly surprised, with his features softening slightly. 

“Good morning, have a fresh cup on me.” 

You awkwardly walked away, leaving him alone with the caf.  Heart hammering in your chest.  

After closing the pottery studio, you decided to stop by “your” spot on the way home.  The Grumpy Man was gone, but the mug was in the same position you left it.  You assumed he thought it a weird gesture and refused to touch the mug.  But you realized the coffee was gone and there was something in the bottom of the mug.  Turning it upside down, a seashell fell out.  A very pretty one too. It brought a smile to your face. 

Next morning, you looked forward to engaging with Grumpy Man again.  The black and silver mug was washed and filled with hot caf for him.  Stopping at the local bakery you purchased a large cinnamon pastry on the way. 

Grumpy was there.  He didn’t turn when approached.  You set the mug with the pastry perched on top of it next to him. 

“Enjoy.” Walking away. 

“Did you like it?”  His voice was low, raspy, snakelike. 

“What?”  Stopping in your tracks and turning slightly to answer.  “Oh...yes.  Thank you.” 

“Hmmm...” 

That was all.  He said no more and kept his eyes on the crashing surf. 

You left and walked onward to the studio. 

After close, you walked back to retrieve the mug.  It was empty of coffee and now and contained freshly picked flowers. 

This carried on for several weeks.  Every morning you brought him fresh caf and something to eat.  After all, he was skin and bones.  Every day something different: a fat muffin, breakfast sandwich, fruit, grain-meal with honey, meats, cheeses, brunch cookies.  It was a culinary journey of Pabu, as you picked up things from local shops, or even threw together items from memory of family recipes.   

It was almost an obsession to keep this man guessing the food he would be eating.  Local shopkeepers noticed you out and about more, enquiring about your sudden social spree.  Tongues were starting to wag on the island.  You didn’t pay attention to gossip and could care less.   

Grumpy seemed to have a decent appetite.  You were quite sure he was indeed consuming the food. Of course, he could have thrown it down the ravine to the fish and sea birds, and you would be none the wiser.  It was obviously evident his man was thriving as he filled out, less bony, skin no longer a sickly pallor, and his hair was growing back.  Hair as silver as the moon. 

Every evening he would leave something in the mug as a gift.  An unspoken thanks for your kindness: 

The split egg of a sea bird, a marine fossil stone, polished sea glass, a cascade tree seed, feathers, bleached bones, a preserved Pabu Butterfly with striking iridescent wings.  He even left odd items that suggested a sense of humor.  The persnickety land crab attempting to fight you for the mug as its new home. The small octopus bobbing in the salt water filled cup...who inked you in the face. 

Every day was a welcome surprise.  

You sat the mug and Meiloorun next to Grumpy. There were two covered plates on the table. 

He turned around to look you square in the eye.  “Sit with me.”  It wasn’t a question, but not an order either.  “Please.” 

This was surprising and you settled in next to Grumpy on the bench. 

He slid over a plate and uncovered it: Two stacked grain cakes with a whipped dairy smile and two berry eyes.  They were doused in rainbow candy sprinkles, sitting in a huge amount of sugary syrup. 

“Wow...uh.  I didn’t take you for a happy face kinda guy.”  Suddenly regretting the remark and holding your breath. 

He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “My sister made them.  SOMEONE in town tipped her off that I’m not alone during my ‘Alone Time’.” 

You burst out laughing.  How could you not? 

“Gets better.”  He uncovered the second plate: Two cooked sea bird eggs sunny side up with strips of cooked meat centered below them.  The “food face” was doused in ketchup to resemble a bullet hole to the head hemorrhaging blood.  “I’m more on board with this design.” 

You howled with laughter.  Grumpy cracked a small smile. 

“YOUR sister did THIS???  THAT innocent child?” 

“Mhm...” He snickered.  “Never.  She breathes and farts rainbows.  This is my brother's masterpiece.” 

The rainbow remark had you roaring again.  Wiping away tears.  His delivery was so unexpected.   

He handed you a fork.  Now that ALL his face was visible, you noticed the tattoo. 

He produced his own fork.  “Let's stab out the eyes and feast upon their faces.” 

“Wait!”  You lifted the mug of caf.  “First, we must drink the blood of our enemies and share the names of the victors.”  You were feeling giddy now...never considered maybe taking this Imagined Breakfast Massacre too seriously. 

It didn’t seem to matter to Grumpy.  In fact, he was smiling.  

“Y/N” You took a healthy sip of the caf and passed the mug to him. 

“Crosshair” He gulped the caf, giving you a mischievous look. 

From that morning on you brought the cup of caf to share and HE brought the food.  His sister and brother would cook or bake for Crosshair and “his friend”.  According to him, they were overjoyed that he had not been spending his quiet days alone.  Then started incorporating his own ideas into the recipes.  Crosshair would regale you with “Tales of the Kitchen” interactions with him and his siblings as they cooked.  He shared secret ingredients, always asked your opinion on the recipes, and how they could be improved. 

However, after the food was eaten and the chatter died he would stare wistfully at the ocean.  Deep in thought, mulling over something.  You would ask and he would deflect with another topic.  Not wanting to push things, you let it go. 

This sharing of food and caf carried on for several months.  Sometimes you were able to get bits of information out of him:  He was a military man before coming to Pabu and was in a special highly trained squad.  You asked about his mother and father.  He shrugged and said his parentage didn’t matter and that only his sister and brothers were important.  You carefully asked about the scar on the right side of his head, now fully covered with thick, unruly silver hair.  He glossed over it as an injury and no big deal.  He deflected by asking you about yourself.  This man was perfectly happy to talk less and hear you speak more.  He listened intently and threw brief tidbits in and sometimes his signature “Mmhmm.” 

Still, he seemed haunted by something and absolutely refused to talk about it.  You sensed it never really left his mind and constantly grappled with something deep.  Something he regretted with all his being. 

You both sat at the table watching the surf, taking turns sipping from the mug of caf.  The breakfast platter was eaten and empty.  He was unusually quiet.   

Then he finally spoke. “I’m leaving Pabu.” 

“What?”  You, shocked. It seemed so sudden.  “Why???” 

“I...”  He sighed and looked down at the table.  “Need to make amends for certain...things.”  His expression was one of thinly veiled shame. 

“Don’t know what to say...” Struggling for words.  “How long will you be gone?” 

“I’m not coming back.”  His brows furrowed sadly.  There was a lot of emotion, and you could see the difficulty he had expressing it. 

Speechless, you stared ahead and watched the surf pull away from the shoreline.  There would be no more shared caf and breakfasts with this man.  The days of looking forward with anticipation to the mornings would end. 

You both sat for some time in silence, listening to the waves.  In...out...in...out...as if the island was breathing. 

Finally, you felt his gaze.  Turning to meet the saddest, deepest brown eyes.  Such a pitiful yet touching display that hit you even harder in the gut. 

“I’m...grateful to have shared the time we had together.  I don’t say that lightly.”  His hand slowly advanced palm up on the table begging to be joined with another. 

You slid your hand in his and squeezed.  “I’ll miss you.”  Tears forming in your eyes. 

He squeezed back, nodded, then let go.  Getting up from the table he whispered “Goodbye.”  

“Take this!  I made it for you...even if I hadn’t known it yet.”  You handed him the empty mug. 

He took it with a look of surprise.  Then he turned away before you could see the tears in his eyes. 

But you saw them.  You will never forget that.   

Then he was gone.   

You sat the rest of the day listening to the ocean breathe.  Watching the sun make its progression across the sky, finally dipping below the horizon.  You walked home under the stars of Pabu...one of them a low fast-moving light: A ship departing the planet. 

Sleep was fretful.  Finally frustrated with tossing and turning, you got up, dressed and walked to the studio.  Firing up the lights, set the holo on your favorite “create playlist”, and sitting down at the potter’s wheel.  Tonight, there would be a new design even if it meant staying up all night to mold, dry, glaze, and fire this creation.  You threw yourself into the task, singing, and occasionally wiping away a stray tear. 

The sun rose over Pabu.  You washed out the new creation: A mug of blazing crimson red, raised relief of the sun, with a magnificent metallic gold corona.  Fresh caf brewed in the studio.  You poured it steaming hot into the mug.  Then closed the studio for the day, leaving a message in the window when it would reopen, and proceeded down to “your” table. 

You expected to be alone once again...however...there was someone sitting under the Cascade Tree. 

She was blond, dark skinned and looked to be a young teenager.  You could tell she had been crying. 

“Hello?” 

“Sorry...Just wanted some privacy.  My brother would come here to sit and be alone.”  She moved to get up. 

“You don’t have to leave.  Please stay.” 

She spied the mug in your hand, and the pieces fell into place. 

“You’re Y/N!” Her eyes widened.  “He talked about you a LOT.  He’s never done that with anyone before.” 

Warm intense feelings welled up inside you.  They spilled out across your face in a smile. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Omega.” 

You set the mug of caf down in front of her. 

“Well Omega, looks like I made this for you...even though I hadn’t known it yet.” 

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[againstacecilia]

Because You Left

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fantastic. “Commander Dameron on night patrol?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened? With us?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I have nothing else to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[winniethewife]

Tech the halls! (Tech x F!Reader)

A/N: This is for the 2024 Clone xReader Life Day Exchange, I got : @apocalyp-tech-a! I hope you love this fluffy Life day fic and I hope you have an excellent holiday season!

Words: 1713

It was the day before life day, Omega had been curious about the holiday for most of the week, asking their new addition to the team anything and everything about it. She had been more than willing to tell the girl whatever she wanted to know, and promised that she would help her and her brothers get ‘into the spirit’, whatever that meant. They had spent the day making and hanging up decorations around the ship, with help from a very enthusiastic Wrecker. As the day had started to wind down and the team had settled into a state of relaxation, Wrecker dozing off in his bunk, Hunter futzing with his kit, Echo reading through some reports, Tech sitting in the cockpit tinkering with something or another.

“Please! I want to hear it!” Omega was pleading with her to tell the story she had mentioned before. She laughed and nodded.

“Alright! Alright. So it goes…Twas the night before life day and all through the ship not a creature was stirring not even a scrap rat.” She started to speak as she sat in one of the few seats in the Marauder. Tech glanced over at them from the cockpit with a look of mild concern.

“There better not be any scrap rats on the ship. I don’t want to deal with them.” Tech said with a distasteful tone in his voice. She laughed and shook her head at him.

“It’s a poem silly! Haven’t you heard of it?” She asked with a giggle and a bright smile. Tech looked thoughtful for a moment, his hand reaching for his chin as he contemplated.

“No, I don’t think I have, I have read all the data-files on Life day and I don’t remember mention of scrap rats.” Tech said with his typical matter of fact way of stating everything. She shook her head and laughed.

“The scrap-rats aren’t a part of life day they’re just a small creature that could be scuttling about.” She tried to explain, Tech had a habit of taking things rather literally, sometimes you just had to read between the lines for him. Tech tilted his head and looked at her contemplating her words.

“But why a scrap-rat? Why not a whomprat or a Scurrier or a-” Tech started to list off other rodents. She interrupted him.

“I don’t think the type of rodent matters is just about the-” She started but was also interrupted by a very enthusiastic Omega.

“We should throw a life day party!” She shouted jumping up enthusiastically distracting the both of them. She smiles and nods at the girl’s enthusiasm.

“I think we could manage to pull something small together for the holiday! This will be fun!” She laughed, Omega started talking a mile a minute with ideas jumping around with excitement. As Omega ran off to go tell Hunter and Echo and Anyone who would listen, Tech wandered over to stand next to her.

“So how do you plan to pull off a party on such short notice?” Tech asked with intrigue, she leans back in her chair and looked up at him with a smile.

“Maybe I’ll just use a little holiday magic.” She smirked up at Tech who shook his head.

“I don’t know what you have planned, but I wouldn’t put it past you. You seem to be able to make the impossible happen around here. Its…surprising” Tech spoke with a hint of admiration, it was hard to tell sometimes. After all this time she still had a hard time reading Tech, but that didn’t change how she felt, and that would be impossible to talk about.

“Thanks Tech… you willing to help me with some of the holiday magic?”

~

After Omega had gone to bed they got to work, Tech helped her set up the practically ancient light system that she had found at the market. It was practically non-functional and it only had half of the instructions, but they had convinced themselves that they could in fact fix it.

“So wait…what does this button do?” She asked as she held up the makeshift remote that Tech had fashioned from an old deactivated detonator and some wire he had laying around. Tech looked up to see which button she was talking about.

“It should turn on the lights...which should be possible…Now.” Tech said as he returns his focus to the contraption in front of him adjusting the settings one last time before gesturing for her to give it a try. She pressed the button and the device lit up, which in turn lit up all the strung lights that they had hung that were attached to the device. She smiles brightly and even Tech seemed pleased with the result, but before either of them could say anything about their accomplishment the device made an odd noise then suddenly all the lights glow brighter than before, then with a series of electric pops, snaps, and fizzes all the lights blew out, and shortly after the entire ships power went out.

“Dank Farrik.” She sighed in the darkness. There was a shuffling sound, then a clang and a muttered curse word as someone hit their head on something. Before anyone could do anything else Tech stood up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

“We should go look at the power core.” He practically pulled her out of the ship, she wasn’t sure whose wrath he was trying to avoid, Either Echo or Hunter for sure, but the sooner they could fix the situation the less likely they were to get in trouble with the team for it. As the two of them stumble down the ramp to go look at the ship Tech’s hand holds hers tightly for a moment, something she wouldn’t have thought twice about in most situations but, right then it felt warm and intentional. When they reaches the access panel, He hands her a flashlight to help him see what might be the issue. Tech quickly take it off and takes a look around the marauders internals with a curious look on his face.

“See anything?” She asked as she held the light aloft.

“It looks like we blew a fuse, that little contraption you found blew the circuit its on...it should be an easy fix, just needs a lighter load of power is all, and a new transistor.” He immediately got to work on fixing the issue.

“Oh…well that’s good.” She said, unable to hide an amount of disappointment from her voice. This surprised Tech, why would she be disappointed about the fact this was easily fixable? Wouldn’t that be a good thing? He tried to focus on the task at hand as he asked.

“Why do you sound upset by this?” He tried his best to sound interested in the answer but not too interested. She had to figure out an appropriate answer…and quickly.

“I um…I wanted to spend more time with you, alone?” she said this like a question, like she wasn’t sure if that was the right answer, was she asking him why she felt this way.

“You do? Why would you want to do that?” he asked his focus on the ship but his curious nature shown bright in the moment. She silently cursed herself, she just had to say something.

“Because…I like spending time with you.” She said like it was simple. It was not.

“We could just as easily spend time together when this is done.” He replied simply

“Yes…But…No you’re right.” She stumbled over her words, not really sure how to explain her meaning, to him or to herself. Just then he flipped the right switch and the ships lights came back on, illuminating the night. He turns to her.

“Hopefully they’ll stay on this time, I rerouted some of the power supply to the secondary power core so hopefully when you turn on the contraption for Omega in the morning it should stay on, assuming it works.” He explained, seeming awfully pleased with himself as she looked surprised at him.

“Wait, you…you really did that? Just for the surprise for Omega?” She asked her eyes glittering with unexpected appreciation.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint her…It is Life day after all.” Tech said with a shrug, but she could see the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“She’ll be so happy! Thank you Tech.” She smiles brightly at him, her excitement was so very…attractive. Tech wasn’t sure how to feel about this realization, but he wanted to see her smile like that more. He turned to close the access panel again.

“I’m sure Omega will be very surprised.” Tech said as he passed by her. “Oh and…By the way. I like spending time alone with you too.” She felt those words coursing through her, becoming most prevalent in the heat in her cheeks.

~

When the morning came Omega was very excited by the stringed lights and the contraption they were hooked up to. The batch gathered around as Tech hit the button on the repurposed detonator and the lights came to life, Omega began to bounce on the balls on her feet as she looked around the room in awe. The others congratulated her and Tech on a job well done. As the festivities started she pulled tech aside for a second.

“Thank you for helping me with this it really made the whole thing…special. y’know for Omega.” She spoke softly as to not draw attention to their conversation from the festivities.

“Of course, I…I wanted to make this life day special…for Omega.” He replied, with a hint of something left unsaid. They stood close together as they watched Omega and the others sat around the light display. Omega’s voice reaches her ears as she said.

“I wonder what this button does.” She turned about to stop Omega, but was stopped by Tech, his hand on her shoulder pulling her closer.

“Watch.” He whispered as he looked over her shoulder. When Omega pressed the button a soft mechanical noise filled the room, followed by the sound of a song playing from a music box. Everyone looked at the machine in wonder, Tech smiles and spoke softly in her ear.

“Happy Life day Mesh’la.”

~

masterlist

Taglist: @cloneficgiftexchange @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial @faretheeoscar @ghostofskywalker

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[leenathegreengirl]

Day 4 - Echo & Aiko

Life Day is a season of renewal, light, and joy—a time for cherishing those you hold dearly. But what happens when Aiko finds herself struggling to find the perfect gift to give to Echo? Will her celebrations fall apart, or will they discover a moment of joy amidst the holiday hustle? Their festivities are a beautiful blend of love, sacrifice, and enough tooth rotting-fluff to give you a cavity!

(Link to AO3 if you prefer that formatting!)

Event Masterlist

(Special thank you my very dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible! She is the beautiful mind behind ALL the writing, design layout, post editing and song selections!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

The Sith

Part 4

As promised, more of The Sith

This time inspired by some of these prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting I think there will be eight this time round.

***.

"Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same."

Instead of giving him what he wanted, his stubborn Jedi closed those stunning blue eyes, his brow furrowed in persistent concentration to deny him what he knew they both craved. 

Damn the stubborn boy, he really should know better.

"Darling," he purred and pressed even closer, placing a possessive hand on the younger man's hip. The Jedi not even flinched at their close proximity but remained obstinate still. 

"Do not seek to resist me, it is pointless."

He leaned forwards until their lips were mere inches apart, finally getting a reaction, even if it was just a harsh intake of breath.

“Give in, dear one,” he coaxed him with a honey sweet voice, dripping dirty and wicked promises. Triumph rushed through him when blue eyes met his again, defeat eclipsing them along with a far more passionate emotion.

"Say it," he ordered once more, his voice nothing more than a breath.

"Yes, master."

2. 3. 4. 5.

Master posts for parts 1, 2 and 3

[darth-jess]

Alright I normally stick to charcoal on paper but I've really wanted to experiment with digital art lately, so while I had a bad case of writer's block I decided to draw how I imagine Evil Padmé from my fic. (Disclaimer: I’m not an artist)

If you're not familiar with my fic (Beauty & Rage) this apparition haunts Vader constantly– at first he believes it's some manipulation the Emperor created to torture him, but in truth she is a manifestation of Vader's own darkness. She is actually Vader's own creation, his own way of torturing himself for what he has done.

Details:

The dress is supposed to be Padmé's wedding dress, but it is black and corrupted. Her wearing the dress is another way Vader tortures himself, as it is a reminder of the promises he made to her and how he failed her. In his twisted, broken mind, he sees that Anakin was not strong enough to save her, and so Anakin did not deserve her. The "apparition" wearing this dress is an insult, it is his way of blaming himself, a visual reminder that he could not save her/that he killed her. This image tells him: the moment she married you, her fate was sealed. You did this. Her wedding dress may as well have been her funeral shroud. (This is not exactly true, but that doesn't matter to Vader. Because the purpose of this is self loathing, the purpose of this is making himself pay for what he's done.)

Her lips are always painted red, red like Vader's lightsaber, red like the blood of the innocent lives Vader has taken. (I also gave her slightly elongated incisors in the drawing, it felt right and definitely made her look a bit more evil, but I haven't described that in my fic… maybe I will in a future chapter?)

Her eyes are amber-gold, flecked with red. They are Sith eyes, like Vader's.

I wanted to draw her smiling, especially because it is nothing like Padmé's real smile.

Everything about this image of her is a reflection of how Vader has corrupted himself. The apparition of Evil Padmé in Beauty & Rage is meant to represent Vader’s darkest self, as well as his broken psyche.

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

This probably isn't going to go any where, but it was a fun evening, lol.

Okay but if I did:

Premise would be working in the bordello version of 79s... Guess what I called it? Anywho, it would mostly just start out as a brothel simulator with clone smut.

I'd begin by just making some shiny's (various personalities, part of the challenge would be feeling them out and deciding how to act for them) but then slowly add in named clones, romance story lines, special event characters and hell, other OCs if its wanted.

These are the only assets I have for this lol.

-----

Some tastful lil'tags

@feral-ferrule @cloneflo99 @thecoffeelorian

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

Confessions {Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader}

approx. 1,000 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[99tech99]

Masterlist!

Just changed my avatar to an absolutely gorgeous commission by @amalthiaph!!! It is so beautiful and I am so obsessed and she was so amazing to work so patiently with me every step of the way.

I've got a lot of WIPs, so I hope to be updating this regularly as I finally finish things. However, I'm very capricious with my process, so who knows. And they will not be posted in order, but the Masterlist will be listed chronologically.

My blog is 18+ Minors DNI!

(It is beautiful, thanks babe!)

Currently hyperfixated on Director Daddy…

Requests are open if anyone is interested! I’d be down to write almost anything for almost any Star Wars character - just ask!

Most posts are at minimum suggestive, but the rare fluff piece is denoted with ☁️. Mild to spicy is denoted with 🌶️ and actual smut is denoted with 🔥.

Like my work?? Please reblog! ❤️

Director Krennic

Krennic's Glove - One shot 🔥

Krennic (Giving) Head Cannon - One shot 🔥

Krennic Wins Your Birthday ☁️

Sex and Stardust - Longer Fic

Fic Summary: Reader meets Krennic almost immediately at the founding of the Empire. She's Senator for Kuat, the planet largely responsible for supplying starships and weapons for the Empire. He’s building the most colossal weapon the galaxy has ever seen. They find each other insufferable. Naturally, sex ensues.

Fic General A/N: I have the whole story outlined and a lot in my works in progress. Right now it kind of reads like a series of one shots, but as I finish and write more, the gaps will close and be a more complete story.

Featuring Thrawn 🔵

In Which Krennic Miscalculates 🌶️

In Which Krennic Behaves Himself at His Dinner Party…Sort Of 🌶️🔵

In Which Krennic Puts His Mouth to Good Use 🔥

In Which Tarkin Gets His Question Answered

The Dresses - Pictures I’ve found of what I imagine Reader’s dresses could look like!

Thrawn

Manspreading Slut - coming soon…🔥

The Bad Batch

Need a Hand? - Tech x Reader (For Summer of the Bad Batch 2024)☁️

Need a Hand? - Tech x Reader (My Version) 🌶️

Nolan Sorrento

Part I - Reader is brand new at IOI. She receives a surprise at her performance review.

Part II - Nolan isn’t making his move. Reader takes things into her own hands.

Part III - Nolan actually tries.

Part IV -

Part V -

What’s cooking??

Thrawn One Shot

Thrawn x Reader x Krennic

The rest of the Ready Player One fic

TWO versions of Krennic x Reader getting it on at the Empire Day Gala

Sub Krennic/Dom Reader??!?

A super fun Bad Batch Surprise

[megamindsecretlair]

We Are the Night - Masterlist

Qimir x Black!Fem!Reader

As if I needed any prompting! This man has altered my brain chemistry. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving comments, reblogs, or unhinged screaming in my asks! General warning, I spit on Star Wars canon.

MINORS DNI 18+, DO NOT BE IN A RUSH TO GROW UP. THIS SERIES IS EXPLICIT.

AO3 Link to Chapter 1

Summary: You managed to get away from Qimir on Khofar, trying to stop your sister from enacting her revenge on Master Sol. She gets the better of you, trapping you in an escape pod, shooting you off to who knows where. You end up in Qimir's clutches anyway, waking up in the cavern he calls home. Qimir is evil, you know this, and yet you find yourself slowly breaking down under his guidance. The Power of Two is what he's after. But will you join him?

Chapter 1

[twinklerei]

Im actually sick of searching for anidala fics and only finding obikin and ahsokin fics in ao3. Im going to write anidala centered fics by myself rn

[skellymom]

"LITTLE BROTHER"

THE BAD BATCH ONE SHOT

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪ�� ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Word Count: 2.7K

Background: What happens if a clone baby doesn't play by the rules on Kamino? This fic includes the headcannon (another Tumblr poster came up with this one) that Hunter has a crush on Shaak Ti. The clone baby is assigned a number, however, since there are so many of them and I didn't want to just guess left it as CT-______. Use your imagination for the number. This fic takes place right before Order 66 and before Hunter is aware of Omega's presence on Kamino. And, this baby alerts Mace Windu to the fact the Batch are the key to Omega being taken in by their squad, eventually leading to Omega helping the Rebellion defeat the Empire (this is the "Shatterpoint" in the Force Shaak Ti speaks of that Mace Windu senses.

Warning: Swearing, discussion of euthanasia, baby poop.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

The keening cry of a newly decanted clone shattered the silence of the Neonate Ward. 

Shaak Ti could sense the little one's distress and hurried down the corridor. The cry was eventually shared with other babies. She entered to a roomful of loud fussy neonate clones. 

Nala Se stood in the middle of the ward, a frustrated expression on her face. 

“Again?” Remarked Shaak Ti. 

“Yes. It would seem this decanted clone will not settle.” 

Shaak Ti glanced down at the tiny instigator, red faced and screaming for all he was worth. 

“IT is causing distress to the other newly decanted.” 

“HE probably needs to be held...” Shaak Ti picked up the screaming bundle... 

...who immediately went quiet. Then the ENTIRE ward went quiet. It seemed that THIS clone was causing the other babies to react as well. 

 “See. That is all that was needed.” Patting the baby's back gently. He cooed at the Jedi. 

Nala Se glibly shot back. “These newly decanted MUST be able to self soothe. They must be in control of their emotions out in the battlefield.” 

“Maybe it’s just temporary? They are JUST babies. Perhaps Omega can help...” 

Shaak Ti was cut off by the Kaminoan. “Omega is currently assisting ME with research and does NOT have the time.” 

Lama Su approached Nala Se and Shaak Ti. “If CT-_____ fails to self soothe by the end of the week, IT will shall be terminated. 

Horrified, Shaak Ti hugged the baby to her. “Are we sure such a drastic measure is necessary?” 

“It is imperative. We have a 20,000 UNIT deadline to complete with accelerated growth in the next few months. They MUST be ready and in top form upon delivery.” Lama Su added. 

“Could we use his ‘defective’ nature to start ANOTHER specialized clone force?” Shaak Ti was grasping at straws now. 

“I was under the impression Jedi should NOT form attachments.” Lama Su shot back. 

He was right...Shaak Ti was doing just that. However, destroying a small life due to needing to be comforted seemed severe. 

Just then the ward door opened, and Omega entered. She approached Nala Se. “Oh, hello Commander Shaak Ti. Nala Se, I am finished with the tasks you gave me. What is OUR next project!” 

The Jedi nodded to the child. Then glanced up at Nala Se. Attachments indeed! 

Nala Se caught the pointed look from Shaak Ti. “Come, Omega. Let us go to the lab.” 

“Bye Shaak Ti” Omega innocently waved then followed behind Nala Se. 

“Goodbye sweet child.” Shaak Ti beamed at the child with an important future... 

The ward doors closed behind them as they exited. 

“IT has 3 days to improve. If not, IT will be terminated.” Lama Su said his peace, then exited the ward as well. 

Shaak Ti glanced down at the little life in her arms. She had a bad feeling about this. 

Unfortunately, things did NOT improve.  

CT-______ continued to caterwaul. Shaak Ti checked in daily. 

Every time the clone cried, eventually his brothers would start in solidarity. When he was picked up by Shaak Ti, he stopped. His brothers would go quiet as well. 

The Kaminoan’s NEVER held their test subjects. It was beneath them to do so. 

Omega was NOT permitted to assist with CT-____ in any capacity. 

Highly concerned, Shaak Ti sought advice from Mace Windu via comm. 

The Jedi listened quietly to the predicament, then rubbed his chin in contemplation. 

“I shall inquire at the Jedi Council, then give you my answer in the next standard rotation.” 

Shaak Ti nodded obediently and waited. 

The day came with CT-______ slated for termination. He refused to self sooth, instead reaching his tiny arms out for ANYONE to hold him...comfort him. 

Nala Se, resigned to sealing this baby’s fate, loaded the bassinet onto a holostretcher and SLOWLY proceeded to the euthanasia chamber. 

Before she could enter, Shaak Ti was waiting outside the entrance. 

Nala Se seemed surprised to see her there. A move Shaak Ti took advantage of. 

The Jedi waived her hand in front of Lama Se. “You have terminated CT-______. You must return to the laboratory with Omega.” 

“I have terminated CT-____. I must return to the laboratory with Omega.” The dazed Kaminoan repeated. 

Nala Se wouldn’t remember a thing. 

 “Well lads, looks as though Master Shaak Ti will be joining us for this mission!” Hunter beamed. 

“Oh Goody. Careful Hunter, she might sense how much you PINE for her.” Crosshair sneered. 

Wrecker shot back with a shit eating grin. “OOOh, Cross, you’re just JEALOUS.” 

Crosshair shot Wrecker a LOOK. 

Echo chuckled at his new squad's antics. 

“It seems we are accompanying her to the Separatist planet of Ryloth as an envoy.” Tech informed everyone. “She will be assisting Captain Howzer.” 

“WHAT!” Echo shot straight up in his seat. “We are working with Separatists?” 

“The details seem to be confidential. Need to know basis for now.” Tech added. 

“That’s strange...” Echo was extremely suspicious. 

Hunter set everyone at ease. “I’m sure we’ll be briefed before arrival to Ryloth. “Here she is now.” 

The clones stood at attention and saluted Shaak Ti as she ascended the gangplank and boarded the Marauder.  

“At ease soldiers.” She warmly smiled.  

Wrecker jabbed Crosshair in the ribs and grinned. Cross gave him stink face. 

Tech started up the ship and prepared to leave Kamino. 

“Commander, please have a seat.” Hunter offered Shaak Ti the seat behind Echo in the cockpit, as he would be seated next to her behind Tech. 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” She smiled. 

Hunter mildly blushed.  

“Before I do there is another matter I must address.”  

Shaak Ti reached down and pulled up the front of her heavy long skirts, exposing her legs and bottom torso underneath. 

Hunter almost FAINTED!  

He may have had some...thoughts about this Jedi General...only at times in solitude so she was unable to sense them... 

The blood rushed to his head, making his vision swim. 

The rest of the crew stopped and stared! This was so UNLIKE the Jedi Commander!!! 

Underneath Shaak Ti’s skirts was strapped a small baby. 

A clone stowaway...under a Jedi’s skirts! 

The baby looked at Hunter and cooed. 

“Uhhh...” Hunter stared dumbfounded. 

“What the FU...dge!” Echo caught himself in time. 

“WAIT? Are they NOT DECANTING them anymore???” Wrecker scratched his head trying to figure out where babies are NOW coming from. 

Crosshair sighed and held his forehead. 

Tech cleared up the confusion. “It would seem that Jedi Shaak Ti is covertly sneaking this clone neonate aboard so that we may shuttle it off world.” 

“You are indeed correct Tech.” Shaak Ti unstrapped the baby and handed him to Hunter.  

She dropped her skirt and sat down. 

Hunter caught a glimpse of the Jedi’s legs before they were covered again. His brain momentarily broke. 

Echo needed details. “Why? He’s too young to leave Kamino.” 

“He is defective and was slated for termination. When we depart Kamino, I shall tell you the rest.” 

The baby reached up and pinched Hunter’s chin, bringing him back to the moment. He sat down and cradled the baby in his arms...seemingly an automatic act even HE wasn’t aware of. “Tech, take us off world IMMEDIATELY!” 

He didn’t have to tell Tech twice. 

The crew was extremely quiet as the Marauder made its way off the planet. Hunter began to worry about what was to develop. Unconsciously, he began to slightly rock the baby. It soothed him.  

Echo glanced over his shoulder at Hunter and smiled. 

Crosshair rolled his eyes. 

Blue light bathed the ship as the Marauder coasted in hyperspace. 

Shaak Ti filled in the rest of the intel. 

“So, our squad are the LAST defective clones to be allowed on Kamino?” Tech surmised. 

“Yes, unfortunately. The Kaminoan’s are tamping down on any deviance within the clone population. They are no longer even trying to reprogram the few who develop out of parameters. Any found outside of those parameters are slated for immediate termination.” Shaak Ti grimly explained. 

“Things have been changing so quickly on Kamino lately.” Hunter’s brow creased. 

“Don’t like it one bit.” Echo’s suspicion was back. 

Shaak Ti followed up. “Conveniently, I was scheduled to meet with the governing body of Ryloth. And, with some help from the Jedi Council we can place this little one with a family there.” 

“The Kaminoan’s don’t just give away their property freely. How did you manage to convince them?” Echo enquired. 

“I agree with Echo.” Tech added. “The Kaminoan’s are anything but charitable.” 

“I... resorted to utilizing the Force.” The Jedi shifted uncomfortably. “According to Master Windu, the exposure to this young clone will help you all on a future mission.” Shaak Ti smiled at the squad. “As you know Master Windu sees an important Shatterpoint in your timeline.” 

“And... what is that Shatterpoint?” Hunter enquired. 

“Unfortunately, Master Windu did not elaborate. He FEELS something strongly in the Force but cannot put it to words.” 

The clones silently glanced at one another.  

Shaak Ti added “But, for now we are saving a small innocent life. This has enough merit on its own.” 

“Agreed” Hunter smiled down at the small one in his arms.  The baby grinned back up at him. 

“Hey...Hunter...can I hold ‘em?” Wrecker asked hopefully. 

“Uh...yeah.” Hunter got up and walked over to Wrecker, who seemed excited. 

Wrecker held out his large hands awkwardly. 

“Wrecker, support his body with this hand. Take your other hand and support his head carefully. He’s young and his neck isn’t strong enough yet. He’s a baby, not a Lula. Gotta be REAL gentle.” Hunter handed the baby over and placed Wrecker’s hands in the correct position. 

Hunter stepped back and watched his brother. 

“Aww, he’s SO CUTE!” Wrecker beamed. 

The baby cooed at Wrecker.  

Cross, sitting next to Wrecker watched silently. 

Then the baby spotted Crosshair’s silver hair shining in the Marauder’s cab lighting. He made grabby hands toward Cross. 

“Ooh, he wants YOU to hold him.” Wrecker grinned. 

“NO.” Crosshair got up and sat at the other side of the ship. 

The baby immediately started to cry. 

“Look, you hurt his little feelings!” Wrecker shamed his brother. 

“I don’t do kids.” Crosshair crossed his arms uncomfortably. 

The baby wailed loudly. 

Crosshair couldn’t handle the caterwauling and stalked to the back of the ship. 

“Ohh, just ignore him cute widdle baby boy.” Wrecker grabbed Lula. “Lula says he’s a big ole’ poopy head anyway.”  

The baby stopped crying and Hunter dabbed his tears away with the baby blanket.   

“Brother Wrecker wuvs you...BOOP!” Wrecker gently touched Lula to the baby’s nose. 

Baby smiled. 

“Brother Hunter wuvs you...BOOP!”  

Baby laughed. 

“Brother Echo wuvs you...BOOP!” 

Baby belly laughed. 

“Brother Tech will wuv you too...BOOP! Especially since you’ll listen to his infodumps...BOOP!” 

Baby laughed SO hard... 

...and made a strange face... 

...then baby’s rear end made the MOST horrid sound! 

“OH MAKER! WHAT IS THAT!!!” Wrecker almost retched. “IT’S SOO STINKY!” 

Wrecker quickly handed baby back to Hunter and ran away after Crosshair. 

“Uh...” Hunter was woefully unprepared and just held baby out away from him. “Commander...uh...please tell me you have extra diapers...” 

The Jedi laughed as she approached, taking the baby from Hunter. She had a bag slung over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of him, Sergeant.” 

He turned red in spite of the horrible smell assaulting his enhanced senses. 

Hunter had an awakening... 

Something about maternal women and little children... 

Something warm and paternal blossomed in his heart. He watched Shaak Ti as she walked to the back of the ship soothing the baby. 

A minute later, Wrecker ran back up to the front of the Marauder. Crosshair followed furiously spraying refresher air freshener EVERYWHERE. 

“I don’t know what that baby ate but...EWW!!!” Wrecker grimaced. 

“OH MAKER!” Echo yelled; his face had a severely pinched expression. “Now it smells like FLORAL SHIT in here!!!” 

Frustrated, Crosshair shot back at Echo. “Well, WHAT would you have me DO???” 

Tech to the rescue: He engaged the Marauder’s indoor filtration system. However, it did take some time to dispel the smell.  

When Shaak Ti brought the cleanly changed baby back, Echo requested to hold him next. The baby took an interest in Echo’s scomp.  

Wrrrrrrrrrr. Baby was entranced. Wrrrr, wrrrr, wr, wrrrrrrrrrr. 

Echo laughed, then the baby laughed... 

And make THAT FACE. 

Wrecker held his nose. “OH NO! NOT AGAIN!!!” 

“It seems the Kaminoan baby formula irritates his sensitive stomach. Another anomaly in his genetics. I switched his formula for the trip.” The Jedi attempted to get up and retrieve the baby. 

“Please relax Commander. I’ve got this.” Hunter got up and took baby from Echo.  

Shaak Ti handed Hunter the diaper bag, and he made his way to the back of the ship. 

Crosshair sprayed the air freshener in Hunter’s wake. 

Echo turned around to glare at Crosshair. 

“What?” Cross leaned back with an antagonistic smirk, inserting a toothpick into his mouth. 

Sometime later everyone settled in during the trip to Ryloth. Hunter offered Shaak Ti his bunk so she could rest before arrival. She warned the baby may need to eat soon. 

By this time, Tech had the baby in his lap and was info dumping about various animal life of the galactic planets. Baby was deeply interested in everything he had to say. 

Or maybe it was just the glare on Tech’s glasses that caught the baby’s attention? 

Either way, Tech set up his datapad to play the corresponding animal sound when the baby pressed a button. Baby cooed with each animal sound.  

Shortly after baby lost interest and started to fuss. 

“Uh oh...” Wrecker was weary. 

“Well...he isn’t making THAT face, so I think we’re safe.” Echo ribbed Wrecker. 

"It’s fairly obvious that he’s hungry.” Tech stated. 

Hunter rummaged through the bag to find a bottle full of blue Bantha milk. 

“You like the GOOD stuff, kiddo.” Hunter smiled, taking baby from Tech and popping the feeding nipple into baby’s mouth. 

Baby suckled away and made grabby hands towards Crosshair again. 

Cross side-eyed baby. 

“Come on, Cross. He obviously likes you.” Hunter pleaded. 

“Usually that’s asking a LOT of someone.” Echo joked. 

“So funny, Echo.” 

“Hey, we ALL held him.” Wrecker piled on. “Hunter EVEN changed his diaper!”  

Crosshair wasn’t convinced. 

Baby continued grabby hands and was now vocalizing in between gulps of formula “Uuuuummmm!!!” 

Straining out of Hunter’s grasp towards the sniper. 

Tech verbally poked at his brother “It would seem that he INSISTS you hold him. Why he wishes to be close to your unyielding nature is a mystery.” Tech was baiting him. 

Crosshair pulled the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it at Tech. “All right...” He huffed. “Give me the little womp rat.” 

Hunter gave Crosshair a shit eating grin as he placed the child on his brother’s shoulder. Cross didn’t expect to have baby THAT close to his face. Hunter KNEW what baby was after. 

The baby held his bottle with one hand, chugging away. Then reached up with the other to grab a handful of Cross’ hair.  

For a second Crosshair looked panicked. But relaxed when he realized baby only wanted to hold onto something while eating. The weight seemed strangely familiar...like his rifle when it rested upon his shoulder. But...warmer...more comfortable.  

Crosshair leaned back on the seat and put his feet up.   

Tech played his specially recorded soothing sounds of Kamino’s waves over the Marauder’s PA system. Baby continued to suckle away at his bottle, then fell fast asleep on Crosshair’s shoulder. 

The sounds also affected Crosshair as he eventually passed out in a deep sleep on the cabin chair totally unaware of what would transpire... 

...as the rest of The Batch decided to record this special moment. 

After all, Baby would be in his new, safe home by tomorrow... 

There’s a pic Tech keeps on his datapad of a snoozing Crosshair with a baby sleeping on his shoulder. The rest of the Batch is posed around him.  

Hunter leans his head against his brother and the baby. A serene smile on his face. 

Wrecker gives Crosshair Lula ears with his fingers behind Cross’ head. He pulls Gonky in next to him. 

Echo puts his arm around Gonky and proudly leans into the shot next to Wrecker. 

Tech took off his goggles and propped them up on the Marauder’s dash so the recording device attached to them could mark the occasion. Then blindly made his way to Hunter’s side to pose, a sassy half grin on his face. 

In Hunter’s bunk, Shaak Ti sighs contentedly in her sleep. 

Back on Coruscant, within the Jedi Temple, Yoda pauses and quietly smiles. 

He looks to Mace Windu “The child is safe, he is.” 

Mace, relieved, replies “Eventually...the galaxy will be too.” 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

[musewrangler]

Jedi Piett WIP

I'm sorry, but I have to share a snippet because this is SUCH a fun story to write! Can't fully publish yet as I want to finish another one first, but it's moving along!

“Look,” he said, struggling to his feet and coming over to the shorter boy. “I was a slave. Back on Tatooine.” Firmus’s already big eyes got bigger. “You mean with…with a chip?” he whispered.  Anakin appreciated someone who got the problem immediately. Who knew how the Rim worked. “Yeah. I mean, it’s Hutt territory and you know how they are.” Firmus bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Some. They had dealings around Axxila. But our biggest problem was the Black Sun.” He said the name as though he wanted to spit. Anakin had heard terrible stories about the smuggler cartel. “Were…were you a slave too then?” he asked. Firmus sighed and turned to lean his arms on the balustrade, resting his chin on them. Anakin stepped beside him and joined him. “Not exactly,” he replied at last, his emotions turbulent in the Force. “I was never chipped or anything. I had a collar but it wasn’t the lethal kind.” “So what happened then?” Anakin pushed, knowing somehow that the other boy needed to tell him. He was reasonably sure this was a prodding in the Force. He’d need to ask Obi-Wan later. A single tear tracked out of the corner of Firmus’s left eye as he stared sightlessly out over the vast city. “My…father sold me. My powers were a problem. But to some people they were worth a lot of credits, so…” Anakin took this in, something strange and sick feeling in his stomach. “Wait. You—-you knew you had powers?” “I knew something was weird about me,” Firmus replied grimly. “The…the men who bought me made me tap into my power by…” He closed his eyes, jaw working against his memories. Anakin waited.  “I had to kill,” Firmus said at last, giving Anakin a nervous glance, clearly fearing how he would react. “Kark,” he said with sympathy. “What um…?” “Animals,” Firmus said, voice so sad. “To save people. All for entertainment. I hated it. So you see—-I’m pretty messed up.” “Nope.” Firmus raised both eyebrows at the certainty in Anakin’s voice and half turned to look at him. But Anakin was certain. He’d been here long enough to know these Jedi masters. Okay, Windu was a hard ass, but Plo was great and obviously so was Obi-Wan and lots of others. Further, his master always encouraged him to watch a being’s physical reactions at the same time as their Force sense.  “One informs the other, Anakin. It’s important to note both when assessing a being’s character.” “Look,” he said, “Master Plo wouldn’t bring you here if he thought that. And I can feel that you…you were hurt. But you’re not dark or something. Kark, you’re not evil. Bad things happened to you. Same for me. My mom is still a slave back on Tatooine.”  His throat got tight as he said this, and he saw Firmus wince in sympathy. But he plowed on. “I want to save her. So I want to be a Jedi.” There was a long pause. The wind tugged at their hair and far below Anakin could hear the noises of Coruscant.  The words, when they came, were very soft. “So…you think I can be one too then?”  Firmus said it almost shyly, and shivered a little in the breeze.  “Of course. And I’ll need someone from the Rim to help me free slaves. Someone who gets it.” A full smile graced the Axxilan’s face then. “All right.” “Now come on. You’re too skinny to be out here this long. And I have another set of tunnels to show you before you sneak back to bed. Even Obi-Wan doesn’t know about them.” And the two boys slipped back inside the vent, the grate sliding into place with a light click.