#jod na x reader

[thecoffeelorian]

Anomaly (Jod Na X Reader)

A/N: I typed this out in the span of a morning on my phone, and then worked my way up from there. Anyways, to business...

Title: Anomaly

Chapter Title: The Stowaway

Genre: Drama/Romance

Word Count: 1,077 words

AO3: Click Here!

Special Notes: I have zero idea if Jod is going to be either the pirate I think he is or the ex-Jedi that others believe him to be...however, if none of these turn out to be true, then I'll just mark this as an AU and keep on trucking along. 'Nuff said!

No Pressure Tags: @ladysongmaster @braveincafleet @ireadwithmyears and anyone else who might want to catch the first-ever Jod Na x Reader story in this fandom! Thank you for your consideration!

ANOMALY

This doesn’t feel like the Great Work to me, you think to yourself, glancing around in silence as the Reclamation Committee gathers at At Attin’s first, and probably last, official spaceport. Originally, you would be deep into your latest pile of holo-work in the Undersecretary’s office, a half-drank cup of caf on your right and the few images of your surviving relatives sitting still upon your left.

Thanks to the curiosity of a handful of local children, however…everyone’s daily routine, yours included, has since been upended be it for better or for worse. In fact, the tension’s visible on everyone’s face as they await the incoming ship, and most likely for good reason—the ones said to be on board, at least in theory, are going to have a lot of explaining to do.

As for you, you’ve got both eyes upon your datapad screen like the good little Intern you are, making as many mental notes as possible while you wait. So far, according to the reports—or, at least, the official documents that you had been granted access to—all four of the missing children had been found safe; they had then been directed onto a secure flight back home; and, once the growing blur of that same flight could be seen from the platform and the volume of all human conversation around you grew alongside it, they would certainly be participating in a very long debriefing once those docking bay doors finally opened.

And yet...everything that you hadn’t been informed about becomes, as soon as the one known as Neel is the first to step off, pretty sparkling clear once the security droids all aim their weapons at the back of the ship.

“No, wait! Don’t hurt him, he’s a friend!”

To your surprise, if not also the surprise of everyone else around you, there was a fifth person on board. This person must have been halfway decent enough to keep this little group under their watchful eye, for the remaining kids still on the ship—Fern, Wim, and KB respectively—all add their voices to Neel’s protest as they’re coaxed onto the platform, Wim going so far as to try and pull the blaster out of a droid’s hands before a short pop of static electricity teaches him differently.

And, once those same droids give the order for them to come out with their hands up…your first sight of that fifth person all but takes your breath away.

Oh. Dear. Me.

Yes, there’s a man hiding back there, not some Wookiee in a fit of rage…but he’s not just any man as the ones among you already have been. No, this one has the equal look of both predator and prey written into his body language, for the look he gives the security team is nearly an even mix of one about to shoot down several live targets and one about to run for cover, almost like he's known both such situations in the course of his life...but isn't about to breathe a word of it.

To your growing sense of alarm, he’s also far too damned attractive for his own good, let alone yours. Sure, there are the signs of middle age upon him, why would there not be—and yet, other than the visible age lines upon his face, the stiffness in his steps, and the traces of silver within his hair, you just couldn’t stop yourself from running a visual scan of everything else he’d brought down to the surface. Things like...the hard set of his shoulders, the sharp outline of his jaw, and—worst of all—those startling blue eyes that you swore saw everything ahead, behind, and every other direction around him in a matter of seconds. Eyes that could see right through you if you’re foolish enough to let them, though you can only hope you never fall for any piece of this stranger’s charm, direct or otherwise.

And if that alone hadn’t somehow warned you in advance not to look too long, not to examine him too closely, and above all else, not to allow yourself to care too much about what might happen to this mysterious stranger…the reaction of the head droid would finally drive it all home.

”Jod Na Nawood, also known as ‘Crimson Jack’, also known as 'Captain Silvo', in the name of the Republic, you are hereby under arrest…”

Crimson Jack…? Captain Silvo? Him?! That one was the 'Thief Of A Thousand Treasures'?

You’d heard of a few stories about that scary figure, but that was all they were supposed to be. Stories. Legends. Tales one told to their children in order to get them to behave at the dinner table, and not real people of flesh, blood, and bone, because there were supposed to be no such thing.

Especially not away from the pages of a holobook, let alone outside of any datapad video feeds.

And yet…as this infamous Crimson Jack finally allowed the binders to be snapped around his wrists, one sad look sent towards the children before being taken into custody, it was here that you had to start asking yourself whether or not some of these stories were, in truth, full of facts as solid as durasteel—and if so, whether this stranger was truly as dangerous as the stories whispered in the dark made him out to be.

It would also be about a few seconds later that those startling blue eyes would just happen to meet yours, an even stranger feeling of both warmth and cool air pass between you like the rush of a long-dormant hyperdrive slowly working itself back up to full power and, finally, a phantom set of words echoing within your mind just as surely as if he had spoken them aloud.

I see you.

Several minutes would pass by until you snapped yourself out of your stunned silence and came back to reality, a few familiar faces around you making sure you were all right, that no tricks or funny business or strange arcane rituals had taken your mind over where you stood—and yet, for all of that, there was only one thought left in you, only one question that made sense—and so, even though this man was no longer in your sight, still you asked it out loud for everyone else to hear.

“And if I were to get inside your head, Mister ‘Crimson Jack’...what would I see?”

[obiwansito]

guys....

[writing-girlie]

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙴𝙳 ✩ 𝙹𝚘𝚍 𝙽𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷/𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘)

Story Summary: You and Jod are paired for a mission where you only have one chance. Forced to rely on each other an unexpected bond forms and you both start to see past the walls that were built. As the mission intensifies and you become each other's source of trust and comfort, you're left to wonder if this is a brief spark amongst chaos or something worth holding on to.

WC: 730

The cantina was bustling with activity, filled with all sorts of beings from across the galaxy, their chatter joining into a constant hum. Drinks were poured, dice were rolled, and stories were exchanged—some details true, most not. At the heart of it all stood Jod Na Nawood, leaning casually against the bar as a small group was captivated by one of his tales of daring escapes and near-impossible heists.

The crowd laughed, not entirely sure where the truth ended and the embellishments began, but that was part of Jod’s charm. He soaked in the attention, his grin widening. But just as he was about to begin another, something caught his eye, or someone.

In the corner of the room, you sat alone at a booth, unbothered by the chaos that went on around you. Jod excuses himself from the crowd, deciding to come to you.

“Is this seat free?” He asks, his hip resting against the edge of the table. You didn’t even look up at first, but when he knocked on the surface, you glanced up briefly, your expression showing disinterest.

“Not if you’re planning to sit in it.” His grin grew slightly, and he sat down.

“The name's Jod Na Nawood and you are…”

“Wishing you’d leave” you say with a brief, sarcastic smile. Your reply doesn’t deter him; if anything, it intrigues him as he gets more comfortable in his seat. Despite your dislike for people like Jod, his presence was impossible to ignore—confident, mysterious and that charming grin. You take a sip of your drink, hoping he’ll become uninterested and leave on his own accord.

“So, what’s your story?” He questions, and by the way your eyes narrow slightly he could tell you weren’t going to answer him. “Come on. Most folks around here have something to hide, and you look too calm to not have a story.” You shrug, dismissively, but by the way Jod spoke you knew he was going to be persistent.

“You’re wasting your time. I don’t have anything to interest you.” He leans forward, a moment of silence passing between the two of you.

“I don’t believe that,” Jod says with a slight shake of his head. You let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, his persistence starting to annoy you. You look around the cantina, but his eyes don’t leave your face; you can feel his gaze the whole time. When you turn your attention back to him, you lean back in your seat.

“So you can keep trying, but like I said, you are just wasting time.” This time you speak slightly firmer but he just laughs like this is all a fun game to him.

“I like a challenge.” He says with that cocky smirk. You raise an eyebrow. He does think this is a game. For a moment you’re not sure whether you should let him win the small battle for your attention by telling him some fib to amuse him, or just walk away. Yet for some reason, you stay put. You take a long drink. Your silence seems to only egg him on. He watches you closely, his gaze flicking to the drink in your hand and then back to your eyes. You could feel him studying you, trying to piece together whatever puzzle he thought you were.

“You know, I've sat across from all sorts and eventually they crack and talk. All of them, even if it's just to get me to shut up.”

“Well, no surprise there” You roll your eyes slightly.

“You're good at this” He gestures all vaguely. “Keeping people out.”

“Yeah, you've figured that out yet you're still trying” A short laugh comes from him as if he's amused by his own persistence.

“I have a bad habit of chasing things that don't come easy but,” He then stands up, smiling at you once more, the grin never quite leaving his face. “I’ll take the hint.” He reaches for his jacket. “This isn’t the last time we'll see each other though.” Without waiting for a response, he winks and strides towards the exit. You watch him go, a strange mix of irritation and curiosity inside you.

He wasn’t your problem. Not for now, anyway.

[thecoffeelorian]

Just a little bit of research...

[thecoffeelorian]

...yeah, okay: part 2...

...So I jumped the gun with my latest X Reader WIP, but let me tell you something...

The life expectancy of mentors in this fandom is, unfortunately, pretty darn short. Doesn't matter if it's TV, movies, or animation; you name a series, there's most likely a mentor who died during the course of it.

So...if I think this latest mentor would be a little happier in a cozy retirement, possibly as a quasi-House Husband...I'm darn well gonna pull it off ahead of time.

[thecoffeelorian]

The Anomaly Series, Chapter 2: Connections (Jod Na Nawood x Reader)

A/N: Soooooo. I may not be able to do this every week, but I had a spurt of inspiration recently, so for now I decided to keep going. Hope that's okay!

Chapter Title: Connections

Genre: Drama/Romance; Slow Burn

Word Count: 1,235 words

AO3: Click Here!

Special Notes: Have I done some research that suggests how Jod is both a Force-Sensitive AND a space pirate...? I sure have. Do I have any clue, though, how the parents are going to shrug off this dystopian government in order to find their kids? I sure don't. Nevertheless, the spoilers here remain more or less recent.

No Pressure Tags:

@ladysongmaster @amawu23 @evabellasworld @tarak1495 @jedinerd27

@braveincafleet @xitlalli2001 @leos-multifandom-corner @nonniecannie @khaleesihavilliard

@cc-cobalt-1043 @bridge-always @illithiddreams @gun-roswell @kucharka23

@bruceewayne @robin-hyperfixates @shirley-girly @lulalovez @deepestballoonllama-fandoms

@seekerbear90 and anyone else looking to give a little love to our favorite space pirate.

They’re watching you now, this Reclamation Committee, and not because you’ve recently performed any Acts of Service to your community. On the one hand, as the formerly missing kids have already been sent to their Debriefing and will be cleared to return home as soon as possible, naturally, their family members will be joining them in whatever room or building this procedure is scheduled to take place.

On the other hand, however, Wendle has still already given you his raised eyebrow treatment; Undersecretary Fara has promised you your own round of questioning; and all the others you’re not that acquainted with yet have already started up on their own respective grumbling. Apparently, they’re getting just a little bit fearful that you might try to help this notorious space pirate escape justice, or so you can tell rather well by the changes in their expressions.

Small wonder, then, that you’re only too happy to exit your work site when the time comes, your mind caught between annoyance and mild panic at the harshness of this new treatment.

Who in the galaxy do they think they are, these people in charge who are quick to judge you over a single minute of weakness? Nobody asked that criminal—that man—to tag along on the children’s flight home, so obviously, you were just as surprised as they were to see him stepping off at all.

You also didn’t expect any ‘suddenly proven legend of deep space’ to come in looking like that, let alone somebody so notorious as this “Crimson Jack”. That, too, had been a shocker for you, and if you could have your way—which, Maker willing, you would soon enough—you would be all too careful not to look into his eyes a second time for fear of drowning in them.

No, if the tiny queasy feeling you felt deep inside your stomach told you anything, it would be more than smart to stay away from that one. You already had the life that your parents hoped for you, the stable job that your little society had seen fit to grant you, and to top it all off, you would be meeting the first of many potential Life Partners in the next 2 rotations.

In other words, there was no reason whatsoever for you to throw all of this safety and security away.

So why, then, did you find yourself thinking of him all over again…?!

Before you let yourself stew in what you call ‘the old mental juices’ too much, you sit yourself down in your chair almost as soon as you walk into your small apartment; the muted tones of light yellow and pale redberry having a slight soothing effect upon your otherwise rattled nerves. With your careful choices of white linen curtains, pale orange chairs, and light brown side tables with a few personal items scattered throughout, it’s just about everything a lady like you could ask for after such a difficult day. All that’s really missing here is your afternoon cup of caf, your hour’s worth of contemplation and reading up on local headlines, and finally, when you’re ready, a quick dinner made on your little stove.

And yet, even though you know you’re calming yourself down and there’s no one else around to bother you...still there’s an odd buzzing feeling coming from the back of your head, almost like something’s just a little out of place.

Or, dare you even begin to think it…like somebody might be watching you.

Without thinking twice, you turn quickly to look behind you, your breathing and heart rate going up a notch. There aren’t any strange people grinning down at you from any place nearby, or, at least, not on the inside. Maybe one of the security droids was out on patrol, and you heard it roll past your door just now. Perfectly normal procedures. Very present, very helpful, and absolutely nothing for you to worry about.

At least…not until your focus shifts to your electronic notepad sitting on the side table, as well as the single word that instantly sends a chill up and down your spine.

Hello.

Oh, kriff it, but you know for a fact that you’re not the one who wrote that message. Not only has your matching pen been sitting motionless beside your notepad, you’re also about 99.9% sure that if anybody had broken in before your arrival just to mess with your head like this, the security droids would have already caught them.

But then again, if absolutely no one from the outside—yourself included—could have written that, then who did?

I see you.

Your answer comes in an instant, the letters appearing upon the screen just as surely as if he—that man, Crimson Jack—had been standing there and writing them himself. Your pulse might not exactly be slowing down at the sight of it, since you’re now a bit disturbed that somebody like him would dare to barge in unannounced like this, to start slipping past your defenses even if he couldn’t exactly see that they existed in the first place—and yet.

Nothing could have prepared you for the rush of emotion that comes afterward, or that even deeper, almost painful, sense of heat and cold that threatens to overtake you. It’s enough to make you want to turn around and run right out of your house, your neighborhood, possibly even your sector—and still feels heavy enough to keep you frozen in place.

And still, over everything that’s happened today, over his surprise appearance, your even worse reaction to making eye contact with him, and all the responses of your associates that clearly frown upon you now where they once smiled at you in welcome—there’s one last question hanging in the air.

What. Are. You…?

You almost expect some instant response out of this, some reply that could otherwise validate whatever connection, commlink, thing, is happening between you. Whatever it is, it's certainly felt like a force of nature written small, and so you're watching that screen in a shaky silence, almost daring the words to appear.

You'll have to start writing me back, sweetheart.

A few seconds pass by before you remember your pen, the obvious choice for something so simple as this. Of course you're going to have to rely on alternate means of communication, because as far as you know, neither one of you has any datapads with a direct link to the other, and so you're both left at a huge kriffing disadvantage here.

Ugh. Get it together, stupid.

This is why you don't think twice about scribbling the words upon the screen, though not without hoping that whatever higher power might be in control of this situation, they find a way to not think of you as a failure. That you're somehow worthy to take this a step or two further, and so establish a direct line of communication with Crimson Jack as soon as possible.

Provided, of course, that you can manage to sidestep both your superiors and the security droids.

Thankfully, it’s not that long before Jack himself responds to you once more, the letters forming on the screen a bit slower this time, like he’s putting a bit more thought into them—and with it, there comes your next surprise of the day.

It’s simple, sweetheart. I’m a person who needs your help.

[thecoffeelorian]

Help Me Choose--Tie-Breaker Edition!!

[thecoffeelorian]

...I just caved and started on what I hope is the first Jod x Reader bullet fic.

You're welcome, fam.

[thecoffeelorian]

"Anomaly": The Master List

Synopsis: Originally, you would be deep into your latest pile of holo-work in the Undersecretary’s office, a half-drank cup of caf on your right and the few images of your surviving relatives sitting still upon your left.

Thanks to the curiosity of a handful of local children, however, everyone’s daily routine, yours included, has since been upended...be it for better or for worse.

Chapter 1: The Stowaway // Chapter 2: Connections

[thecoffeelorian]

hmmmmm, hey buddy, hey there, not sure I want to do that...howzabout a little matchmaking on At Attin instead?

Ya know, because the OT gang kinda sorta doesn't know about you yet, and you might like the guy who owns the Millennium Falcon??

What say you, Jod old buddy old pal???

[thecoffeelorian]

40+ years, and they still don't have a way for Force-sensitives to contact their non-Force-sensitive loved ones when they can't get to a comm link.

Oh well...time to use the old imagination.

[thecoffeelorian]

The AO3 Version Is Upon Us...

(last time until Chapter 2, I swear! TYSM! ❤✌)

[thecoffeelorian]

@leos-multifandom-corner: Reblogging with you in the tag, because you voted in the poll...hope you don't mind. 😇

Anomaly (Jod Na X Reader)

A/N: I typed this out in the span of a morning on my phone, and then worked my way up from there. Anyways, to business...

Title: Anomaly

Genre: Drama/Romance

Word Count: 1,077 words

Special Notes: I have zero idea if Jod is going to be either the pirate I think he is or the ex-Jedi that others believe him to be...however, if none of these turn out to be true, then I'll just mark this as an AU and keep on trucking along. 'Nuff said!

No Pressure Tags: @ladysongmaster @braveincafleet @ireadwithmyears and anyone else who might want to catch the first-ever Jod Na x Reader story in this fandom! Thank you for your consideration!

ANOMALY

This doesn’t feel like the Great Work to me, you think to yourself, glancing around in silence as the Reclamation Committee gathers at At Attin’s first, and probably last, official spaceport. Originally, you would be deep into your latest pile of holo-work in the Undersecretary’s office, a half-drank cup of caf on your right and the few images of your surviving relatives sitting still upon your left.

Thanks to the curiosity of a handful of local children, however…everyone’s daily routine, yours included, has since been upended be it for better or for worse. In fact, the tension’s visible on everyone’s face as they await the incoming ship, and most likely for good reason—the ones said to be on board, at least in theory, are going to have a lot of explaining to do.

As for you, you’ve got both eyes upon your datapad screen like the good little Intern you are, making as many mental notes as possible while you wait. So far, according to the reports—or, at least, the official documents that you had been granted access to—all four of the missing children had been found safe; they had then been directed onto a secure flight back home; and, once the growing blur of that same flight could be seen from the platform and the volume of all human conversation around you grew alongside it, they would certainly be participating in a very long debriefing once those docking bay doors finally opened.

And yet...everything that you hadn’t been informed about becomes, as soon as the one known as Neel is the first to step off, pretty sparkling clear once the security droids all aim their weapons at the back of the ship.

“No, wait! Don’t hurt him, he’s a friend!”

To your surprise, if not also the surprise of everyone else around you, there was a fifth person on board. This person must have been halfway decent enough to keep this little group under their watchful eye, for the remaining kids still on the ship—Fern, Wim, and KB respectively—all add their voices to Neel’s protest as they’re coaxed onto the platform, Wim going so far as to try and pull the blaster out of a droid’s hands before a short pop of static electricity teaches him differently.

And, once those same droids give the order for them to come out with their hands up…your first sight of that fifth person all but takes your breath away.

Oh. Dear. Me.

Yes, there’s a man hiding back there, not some Wookiee in a fit of rage…but he’s not just any man as the ones among you already have been. No, this one has the equal look of both predator and prey written into his body language, for the look he gives the security team is nearly an even mix of one about to shoot down several live targets and one about to run for cover, almost like he's known both such situations in the course of his life...but isn't about to breathe a word of it.

To your growing sense of alarm, he’s also far too damned attractive for his own good, let alone yours. Sure, there are the signs of middle age upon him, why would there not be—and yet, other than the visible age lines upon his face, the stiffness in his steps, and the traces of silver within his hair, you just couldn’t stop yourself from running a visual scan of everything else he’d brought down to the surface. Things like...the hard set of his shoulders, the sharp outline of his jaw, and—worst of all—those startling blue eyes that you swore saw everything ahead, behind, and every other direction around him in a matter of seconds. Eyes that could see right through you if you’re foolish enough to let them, though you can only hope you never fall for any piece of this stranger’s charm, direct or otherwise.

And if that alone hadn’t somehow warned you in advance not to look too long, not to examine him too closely, and above all else, not to allow yourself to care too much about what might happen to this mysterious stranger…the reaction of the head droid would finally drive it all home.

”Jod Na Nawood, also known as ‘Crimson Jack’, also known as 'Captain Silvo', in the name of the Republic, you are hereby under arrest…”

Crimson Jack…? Captain Silvo? Him?! That one was the 'Thief Of A Thousand Treasures'?

You’d heard of a few stories about that scary figure, but that was all they were supposed to be. Stories. Legends. Tales one told to their children in order to get them to behave at the dinner table, and not real people of flesh, blood, and bone, because there were supposed to be no such thing.

Especially not away from the pages of a holobook, let alone outside of any datapad video feeds.

And yet…as this infamous Crimson Jack finally allowed the binders to be snapped around his wrists, one sad look sent towards the children before being taken into custody, it was here that you had to start asking yourself whether or not some of these stories were, in truth, full of facts as solid as durasteel—and if so, whether this stranger was truly as dangerous as the stories whispered in the dark made him out to be.

It would also be about a few seconds later that those startling blue eyes would just happen to meet yours, an even stranger feeling of both warmth and cool air pass between you like the rush of a long-dormant hyperdrive slowly working itself back up to full power and, finally, a phantom set of words echoing within your mind just as surely as if he had spoken them aloud.

I see you.

Several minutes would pass by until you snapped yourself out of your stunned silence and came back to reality, a few familiar faces around you making sure you were all right, that no tricks or funny business or strange arcane rituals had taken your mind over where you stood—and yet, for all of that, there was only one thought left in you, only one question that made sense—and so, even though this man was no longer in your sight, still you asked it out loud for everyone else to hear.

“And if I were to get inside your head, Mister ‘Crimson Jack’...what would I see?”

[thecoffeelorian]

2 hours remaining!

Just a little bit of research...

[thecoffeelorian]

4 hours and 30 minutes remaining!

Get those votes in, y'all!

Just a little bit of research...

[thecoffeelorian]

7 Hours Left, Crewmates!!

Get voting while the voting's good!

Just a little bit of research...