#deadzra bridger

[meldy-arts]

It’s her turn to loose everything

[eyeloch]

Blame @meldy-arts, she wished for angst.  Also, @nakoruko, for this picture

Blaster wounds don’t often leave a lot of mess.  Getting buzzed might cause blisters, a stunner might leave some pins and needles.  Thus, as the life slipped away from Ezra Bridger, it seemed almost peaceful.

Academically, Sabine knew his guts were a charred mess, that the blood he desperately needed was soaking into his jacket,  but she kept the voice quiet.  She wanted to remember him at peace.

“‘bine?” he chocked out, “do you know-”

Coughing stopped him.  She wiped away blood from his chin.

“I know, I know,” she whispered, in time with his heartbeat, “save your strength.”

The teen seemed to sigh a little at that, wincing with another gurgle of blood forced its way though scalded flesh.

“you know-”

“Yes I know!” she whispered more harshly, regretting it even as the words came out. 

 “it’s-”

“I know, I know,”

“-’s not your fault.” he smiled (although it didn’t reach his eyes), “just happened.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye at that.  If she’d been stronger, fast she could have-

“No.  It happened,” he said, voice faint now, “no point regretting.  Just live...”

She forced herself to look into his eyes, to try and sear their colour into her brain.  She’d never found a shade to capture them, but now she’d have to.  Blues, reds, oranges.  In her head, a memorial took form.

“I...”

The body was starting to cool in her arms.  She shut those brilliantly blue eyes - horrible now they were bereft of life - and began to plan her escape.  She couldn’t die here, not now.  And Ezra was coming home with her.  Kanan and Hera needed to grieve too....

[gkingoffez]

This was supposed to be a quick warm up drabble before I worked on the last chapter of ‘Too Many Words Left Unspoken’ last night but it was 2AM and 2,000 words later when I finished it so *shrug*.

This is pretty much a first draft so there’s gonna be mistakes and things that aren’t as fleshed out as I like to have them. Essentially, this isn’t a finished piece in any sense but just take it because I don’t want to use any more energy on it.

Not gonna post it on any other sites, it’s just some angsty fun.I just like killing Ezra, okay.

Warnings: Blood, gore, major character death. 

Kanan ran with his pistol drawn and his heart in his throat, Rex only a step behind him.

“Ezra’s just up ahead, I can sense him,” he called to his companion, not slowing his pace.

There was a coil of smoke rising from the direction they were heading. That wasn’t a good sign.

Kanan skidded into a clearing to find a small collection of rusting starships, one of them exploded and casting orange hues across the blue dirt ground of the clearing.

“Kanan, look,” Rex said, out of breath but serious. Kanan directed his gaze up where Rex was pointing and had to close his eyes against the sight,.

Suspended from the gutted skeleton of a vertical starship by what looked like electrical wiring was the body of a young human woman. Kanan could only hope Ezra hadn’t been involved in her death.

“What the kriff happened here?” asked Rex angrily.

“Nothing good,” Kanan replied. They both turned at the sound of lightsabers clashing from across the other side of the junkyard. “No time to find out, we gotta get Ezra!”

With that, Kanan took off, and Rex followed him with another curse.

They rounded a corner and almost slipped on something slick that coated the ground. Kanan looked down to see another body, this time of a devorarian boy, who’s neck had been slit and body flung carelessly over a half-sunken wing. Kanan only paused to consider that it was blood on his boots before taking off again, even quicker than before.

Dread and fear was thrumming through his veins.

They passed one and half more bodies, each gruesomely placed, before finally rounding a starship and finding the duellers. They were grunting and swinging at each other, the shorter human fighter with more finesse and skill than the taller and bulkier besalisk, but what the taller seemed to lack in skill she was making up for in heavy, anger-fuelled blows both with her lightsaber and her spare fists and the fact that her opponent appeared to be injured and fatigued, holding one arm awkwardly against his chest.

The shorter figure grunted as he blocked a harsh blow and Kanan would have recognised it and the dirty orange jumpsuit he was wearing anywhere.

“Ezra!” he called out, and days of tension and sleepless nights seemed to seep out of Kanan’s shoulder. He stopped, almost falling to his knees from relief.

Ezra glanced over to them and then did a double take. His drooped shoulders immediately lifted, and even from the distance Kanan could see a fire reignite in the kids blue eyes. His next move was more focussed and precise, and the angry besalisk girl had to jump out of its way.

Beside him, Rex made to step forward, but Kanan threw out his arm to stop the clone. Although he had no idea what had happened in the days since Ezra had been abducted, something in the Force told Kanan that this was Ezra’s fight to finish.

Ezra whirred his lightsaber (definitely not his own, which was attached to Kanan’s belt) around and the girl blocked it clumsily. They locked hilts.

“So they did come for you, squirt,” she snarled, the arm holding the lightsaber straining.

“Yeah, told you so!” Ezra cried back, and Kanan could hear the smug grin in his voice.

The two broke their hold, each staggering a bit under the sudden uneven distribution of force. Ezra was the first to recover, and he threw out his hand. The besalisk girl went flying back hard against the hull of a ship, her lightsaber skidding out of reach. Ezra raced forward and had his own at her throat before she could reach for it again.

To Kanan’s surprise, the girl began to laugh.

“Go on, squirt. Kill me and win,” she spat. Kanan and Rex exchanged concerned looks and took a few tentative steps forward, both with hands on their blasters. Ezra had his back to them.

“For the last time, I don’t care about winning. We could have just gotten out of here, Stell, we could have all survived.”

That only seemed to make Stell laugh harder, her two lower arms clutching at her middle, heedless of the lightsaber that appeared to be shaking in Ezra’s hand.

“But none of you listened! And now they’re all dead. You killed Matthas, Stell.”

Kanan didn’t know who Matthas was, but he suspected they were one of the corpses he had passed, and from Ezra’s tone they’d must have been the kids friend. Something dark shifted in the Force that took the breath out of Kanan’s throat. It was coming from Ezra, rolling off him in waves.

“Ezra,” he called, with a plea in his voice. “This isn’t the way.”

The effect of his words was almost immediate. The Force calmed like a storm diminishing, and Ezra let out a long, tension riddled breath.

“I’m not going to kill you, Stell, it’s not the Jedi way.” Ezra pulled back his lightsaber. “I’m sorry you were brought here for this sick game. Don’t you see, we’re all the victims here? Whoever did this to us, whoever tore us away from our families and brought us here, they’re the enemy.”

Stell went quiet and bowed her head, all four of her arms reaching down to touch the dirt beneath her. She looked defeated.

Ezra, apparently satisfied, took a few steps back, and turned off his saber completely. He stepped back keeping her in sight and when she didn’t move, turned towards Kanan and Rex.

“Kanan,” he called, smiling a weary smile. He stumbled towards them, reaching up to clutch at his injured arm. His clothes and hair were caked with blue mud that mingled with the red of various blood stains on his jumpsuit. His entire right cheek was a mess of purpling bruises, and heavy bags were present under his eyes, but despite all of that, he was alive. For Kanan, who had been fearing the worst for days now, that was more than enough.

“Ezra,” he said with an answering smile, starting slowly forward. He felt pride swell in him, both as a master and a father-figure. The kid had obviously been through hell, but even that wasn’t enough to extinguish the goodness within him.

Ezra laughed. “You came. You came!”

Kanan opened his mouth to respond, but a warning suddenly rang out in the Force. He looked behind Ezra to see the Besalisk girl call her lightsaber to her hand, ignite it, and then rush towards Ezra.

“I WIN!” she screamed, as she thrust the blade straight into Ezra’s back.

Kanan watched on in horror; Ezra’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, his young face illuminated by the blazing blue of the lightsaber sticking right through his abdomen. As in slow motion, Stell then pulled the saber back and stepped away.

Rex shouted something beside him and let loose several blaster shots, which Stell deflected.

Kanan’s vision was tunnelling, and all he could see was Ezra falling to his knees. Kanan ran faster than he’d ever run and threw himself down in the mud and grabbed at the kid’s jumpsuit, tangling his fingers in the fabric, to keep him off the ground.

“No, Ezra, no stay with me, kid,” he cried, frantic at how limp the kid was. He reached up with both hands to cup Ezra’s face, trying to direct those blue eyes to meet his. They were rolling back into the back of his head, and a pained spluttering sound was escaping Ezra’s mouth.

Kanan was vaguely away of the besalisk running off into the trees, even less so of Rex taking pursuit.

He wrapped his arms around Ezra’s entire body, and tried to press a shaking hand into the bleeding wound on Ezra’s back.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he lied. Ezra’s breaths were harsh and chilling in Kanan’s ear, and he reached up to run his fingers through the kids matted long hair, running his thumb in comforting motions up and down. Ezra gurgled. “You’re gonna be fine. I’m here, Ezra, I’m here, I’m not leaving. You’re gonna be fine.”

Kanan’s entire chest felt wet, but still he clung as tight as he could to his padawan, who was convulsing and shaking. He kept talking comforting things in a low whisper, all the while feeling Ezra’s grip on life slip swiftly away both through the Force and physically in his arms.

Ezra died with a final sputtered exhale, and something inside Kanan broke apart, much like the night his Master had died all those years ago. He felt the bond shatter in his mind- there were tears streaming down his face, and he could only clutch tighter to Ezra. He burrowed his face into the crook of Ezra’s neck and screamed in frustration and grief.

“We were so close, so close,” Kanan yelled, mostly at the galaxy at large. He sobbed and rocked for a few moments more, before reason approached again. He took a few long, shuddering breaths and wiped at the snot pouring from his nose with a sleeve.

Something terrible was still clamped around his heart, but Kanan Jarrus knew that he had to move on.

He pulled back and lift Ezra’s lolling head up, supporting the lifeless neck so he could plant a tender kiss on the kid’s forehead. The kids eyes were closed and his face was slack. He could have been asleep, if not for the blood slopping down both his back and front. Kanan then brought his own forehead down and touched them together, closing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows together.

“M-may the Force be with you, Ezra Bridger,” he choked out.

He looked up as squelching footprints approached, and folded Ezra back flush against him so he could look over. He saw Rex returning in the dim light, helmet removed.

“She got away,” the clone soldier said, with a hard look. He glanced down at Ezra, and a brief flash of pain flared across his features. “We need a medical bay, I’ll call-”

“No point, he’s gone,” Kanan said, barely a whisper.

Rex closed his eyes, but didn’t say a word. He kneeled down in front of Kanan and reached for the top of Ezra’s head.

“It’s not your fault, Kanan.”

“Of course it is,” Kanan hissed back.

“No. Ezra said that someone else was behind this, someone brought all these kids here. All that blood is on their hands, including Ezra’s, and I don’t know about you, but I’m going to find out exactly who the bastard is so I can put a blaster bolt through his head.”

Kanan blinked and stared into Rex’s eyes. Revenge wasn’t the jedi way- he’d told Ezra as much only minutes before.

But now Ezra was dead, and he’d left a terrible hollowness behind in Kanan’s core. His fingers itched for his blaster and lightsaber to be in his hands, they itched for him to search the entire planet, system, galaxy to find the person who had done this to Ezra. The besalisk girl may have thrust the lightsaber, but whoever was pulling the strings was the real murderer.

“Yeah, I’ll help you with that,” he said icily, anger flowing through him.

L I S T E N

I am a sucker for the AngstTM okay. I love it a lot, and Kanan and Ezra are prime angst material my dudes.

If this seemed familiar to anyone, it’s because it’s based almost entirely on the Supernatural episode/s All Hell Breaks Loose. I may have slightly given up on the show now, but that scene where Sam dies in Deans arms is top angst material, dear god.

I’m not gonna do anything else with this idea, but my story driven mind did come up with a few extra things about this idea.

- So, a lot like in the SPN episode, Ezra (just like Sam) is kidnapped and wakes up in a strange place with a bunch of strange people (or maybe even some people he knows).

-Turns out, all these people are ‘special’ (in the show they all have powers, but here I’m thinking that it’s just a heap of Force-sensitive kids and young adults, but most of them have little-to-no training or were escaped padawans like Kanan.)

- Essentially, they’re made to fight to the death to find out who’s the strongest/most worthy/ whatever. For a prize I guess.

-I’ve given no thought at all to who’s the one pulling the strings. Is it Imperials? Is it some sick person who just wants to watch people kill each other for a prize? Is it a Hunger Games deal???? Who knows. I know if I think about it too much I probably will, but I have too many WIPS at the moment to be dragged down by another one. I guess if someone really wants to adopt this from me I won’t mind.

- In the tv show, Sam is brought back to life because Dean makes a demon deal. As I’m not quite sure there’s an equivalent to that in the Star Wars universe, I’m gonna say Ezra’s ded as hell here. Sorry hon.

[littleaussiecupcake-blog]

Okay, guys. I promised the discord chat I'd write this, and I have! Finally! 

Prepare for Deadzra Bridger. Credit for the storyline goes to Meldy.

Warnings: Blood, and, uh, death. My hands shook will writing this. Angst.

Please don't hate me.

Fic below the cut:

Red

Ezra's eyes widened as the bolt hit his stomach with a wet thud. He tensed, shocked. Sabine stiffened. "Ezra?" He looked down, and with a quivering hand touched his stomach. His fingers came away red. His knees buckled and he slumped forwards, collapsing in a heap, face planting the ground. Sabine's breath caught in her throat, and the world began to spin, tilting aggressively under her feet. A bolt whizzed past her ear. She didn't hear it. "Ezra?" No reply. No sarcastic 'I'm good'. No thumbs up. Nothing. She ran forwards on the wobbly earth, her blasters falling from her hands, her vision tunnelling on him, red flashes shooting past her face. She all but threw herself at him, her knee pads skidding in the dirt. "Ezra!" she shouted, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. His eyes were shut, his mouth twisted in a grimace, and red was blooming on his shirt. "Oh my kriff," Sabine breathed. "Oh my kriff." Her mind ticked. Bolt wound in the stomach. Did it need pressure? Should she bandage it? Bacta. It needed a bacta patch. The earth at her knees exploded and sprayed up in her face. She yelped and grabbed Ezra's arms, dragging him behind a nearby crate, grunting the last few inches. A strangled sound escaped his lips. "Shush, shush," she hushed, kneeling beside him. She stuffed her hand in her pouch, fumbling for her pocket knife, and began to slice the bottom of his shirt. "Sabine," he muttered. "Shh, it's okay," she said. "Sabine," he said again, firmer, reaching towards her, the blood on his fingers smearing on her shoulder. "Hang on. I'm gonna fix it, I'll fix it," she stammered, tearing the last inch off. She pulled his shirt up to reveal the wound. It was a mass of red, slick and glistening against his skin. Sabine faltered. Ezra's blood. That was Ezra's blood. So much blood. "Don't." Ezra's fluttering voice brought her back. She pressed the cloth in the middle of it, hoping that'd be where the wound was. Ezra groaned. "Stop," he said. "No, it's okay -" "Just stop." "It's alright, I'm gonna fix it -" "Stop." Something in his voice made her pause. "You - you can't - fix it, Sabine." The world, already unstable, seemed to punch her in the gut, all the air rushing from her lungs, all sense of what was right slipping from her grasp. Because he was right. And she knew it. "No," she mumbled. "No, you'll be okay." Ezra's fingertips caught on her shoulder pads, and she lowered her gaze to look him in the eyes. "See you on the other side," he whispered. Very slowly, sluggishly, his hand fell. Something passed over his eyes - his perfect blue eyes - and they faded, like a layer of ice spreading over a lake, like shadows over the sky. A puff of air slipped from his mouth. He was still. The ground was ripped out from under her and she was falling, spinning, screaming. "Ezra? Ezra? Ezra!" She grabbed him and shook him. "Ezra! Say something! Say something! Ezra, no! Come back!" She placed her hands on either side of his face, and her vision blurred. "No, no! No! No, please, no! Wake up, Ezra, wake up! No, please -" A sob burst out past her screams and she doubled over onto him, her tears mixing with his blood. "No..." She weeped into his chest, the air too thick to breathe, gathering fistfuls of his shirt. He was gone. The corner of their shelter pinged as a bolt smacked it. Sabine jumped. She could see the white helmets bobbing towards them, hear their blasters and their footsteps, their monotone voices zoning in on her. Her laboured breathing slowed. They'd shot him. It was them. She reached with a shaking hand and grabbed Ezra's lightsaber, the metal cool against her skin. Her knuckles went white. She stood, rising from behind the crate, into the full view of the troopers. She felt her eyes burning. They hesitated. She raised the lightsaber. Whatever was left of his life was in that blade. It didn't seem as heavy as the last time she'd used it. The blade ignited, casting emerald light over her glare. "Open fire!" a trooper shouted, aiming in her direction. She deflected the first bolt. The second clipped her forearm. The pain made her stronger. She leapt over the crate and charged, murder bursting from her throat, and she brought the saber down on a trooper's head. She'd never felt so alive. Never felt so dead. She plowed through them like they were nothing. A bolt nicked her leg. Pain exploded in her side. Anger bubbled up in her stomach and boiled over into her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her vision flashed with white and red and green. Sabine buried the lightsaber under a chest plate, then turned and swung it to the side into a dark visor, and their screams were only background noise. There were no faces under those helmets. Not anymore. She was steady. She was solid. Their bodies crumpled at her feet. Up ahead, melting into the darkness of the tree line, a flash caught her eye. Black, reflective armour, dirty green skin, narrowed yellow eyes. Sabine glowered. The newest Inquisitor raised his lightsaber, and the twin red blades slid out with a hiss. Sabine held Ezra's lightsaber level. She ran forwards, all her fury in her scream. The lightsabers met with a shriek. He pushed her back and his foot connected with her stomach, sending her backwards. As she stood, he slammed his hilt into her face. Liquid filled her mouth. Her throat began to constrict, some cold invisible force clamping over her windpipe. Gasping and scratching at herself, her feet left the ground and she was dangling, hanging in the air. The lightsaber slipped from her grasp. The Inquisitor waved his hand and she was flying, wind whipping her hair, howling in her ear. She slammed into the crate and it cracked and shattered, wood splinters stabbing her through her jumpsuit. She landed on Ezra's body with a grunt. Her head pounded, tiny fists pummelling the inside of her skull. The Inquisitor was suddenly above her, his humming blade pointed at her heart. Something appeared in the sky above his head. "Spectre 5! Come in Spectre 5!" Hera's voice crackled over her com, and the Phantom began to descend towards them. "Sabine, Ezra! Where are you?" Sabine switched on her com and buried her hand in her pouch. Blood impaired her vision in her left eye. She felt... calm. Quiet. Ready. "Any last words?" The Inquisitor demanded, his voice staticky and deep and ugly. "Spectre 5? Can you hear me?" Sabine grabbed Ezra's hand. "See you on the other side," she spat, and pressed the detonator. Hundreds of hidden bombs suddenly exploded with a glorious boom, and the last thing Sabine saw was colour.

[eyeloch]

Deadzra Bridger 

Sabine Wrecked 

Garadead OrelliLOSS 

Hera Syndeadla 

C1-10Perished 

Kadead Jarrus