inactive-fics

[inactive-fics]

It's true what they say about readers impacting writers of fanfiction. I used to write fanfiction regularly back when I was in this obsession of Markiplier egos. Nearly every day I had an idea and was like "I'm going to write for this character!" I had ideas and people regularly engaged with me. I was getting request after request.

Then when my obsession with Markiplier ran out (part of that had to due with negativity from others within the community) I wanted to explore with other forms of fanfiction. For some reason people were either no longer interested in my writing or Tumblr stopped pushing my content in the hashtags. It was weird. I would click the hashtag and find so many current posts that have to do with what I was doing and I was the only one to have like, zero notes. A fic that I had worked hard on would go weeks without a single note.

I moved to AO3 and got lots of engagement but when I started seeing things about people stealing from writers and AI getting involved it scared me away so I stopped. Then I decided "I don't care" when it comes to how many people engage with my content on Tumblr so I decided to write anyway.

Now, I'm being a bit more critical with my content. Obviously with how it works on Tumblr you have a main blog. It's not like Instagram or Facebook where you can switch accounts. You have a main blog and you can make other blogs if you want to focus on different things.

I've gotten busy in life which is part of why I'm more critical with my content. I can go from writing fanfiction twice in one week to writing nothing for a month and I just don't like that. I find it too complicated to catch up with y'all when I have more than one blog.

I see my main blog which is unactive get follows and notes and while I'm not saying nothing happens here, I'm still just like "don't they know that blog isn't active anymore?"

And because I'm busy I'm just going to be frank: I'm keep this blog but I'm not going to be writing fanfiction, reblogging, or accepting any requests. Y'all like my writing on this blog and followers have been pouring in. I'm just not so fond of this blog anymore. I open up Tumblr and my main blog is just like "What about me?" So, keep on coming to this one and being like "I like this fic". I'll be on my main blog doing what I want and keeping things simple.

One woman. One blog.

@ts-journal is that blog.

[inactive-fics]

Yooo

just got here on tumblr yesterday !! i want some friends, especially from marauders fandom please 🥹 i also like hunger games, marvel, and star wars. do ppl normally interact here like on twt?

[inactive-fics]

Can you imagine how the commanders felt when they found out they would have Jedi placed over them in the chain of command?

Sure they had been raised and trained to believe the Jedi were good and they were made to serve the republic together. But it had to have grated that they were all going to have to take order form pacifist space monks with an unknown level of experience in combat or military strategy and logistics. The commanders were probably worried that they were going to end up with incompetent generals or worse.

Instead they end up with this grab bag of, largely, the nicest people you’ve ever known.

Ponds probably thinks he lucked out. Master Windu is sensible, levelheaded and spends half or more of his time safely tucked away in the Jedi Temple where he’s unlikely to get shot.

Cody is doomed from the start. He stood absolutely no chance against Obi Wan. No man should be that combination of confident, compassionate and hot.

Same goes for Bly. Honestly it probably felt like the floor collapsed under him when Master Secura took command.

Rex is honestly too busy dealing with Skywalker’s antics and his manic nexu padawan to even wonder if he got a good deal or a bad one.

Master Mundi seemed sensible and level headed until he started telling stories about his wives and showing holos of his kids.

Wolffe probably thought he lucked out at first. Mater Plo seems like a dignified older gentleman who knows to stay out of the line of fire… aaaand he’s taking a jaunt out in the vacuum of space without a suit.

These Jedi are all crazy.

[inactive-fics]

i have 500 of these in the tank. be prepared.

[inactive-fics]

Obi-Wan and Cody: *sitting calmly drinking tea and caf, going over work* *distant crashing noises from deeper inside the ship* Anakin: *yelling from a nearby hallway* IT WASNT US Ahsoka: IT WAS TOTALY HIM Obi-wan: *looks at Cody* Cody: no. It’s your turn. Obi-wan: 🥺 Cody: *sighing* fine. Fine. *gets up to go deal with it*

[inactive-fics]

Rex: Hi, I'm Echo's emergency contact Coruscant Guard: You're here to pick him up? Echo, standing next to Fives in a jail cell: Hi, Captain! Fives: Hi, Rex! Rex: I'm here remove myself as his emergency contact

[inactive-fics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ezra just can't figure out why you hate him so much.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ghost crew x f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: requested, mentioned enslavement, reader is kinda mean, no use of Y/N

Now, Ezra wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but what other conclusion was there? 

You had to hate his guts. You refused to look at him and you wouldn’t talk to him, not to mention the glare you weren’t at all trying to hide. Sabine told him to not worry about it, that you would open up on your own time. Somehow, Ezra doubted that.

Hera told him something similar about giving you time, and he understood why; it’d only been a week since your grand and harrowing rescue from the clutches of the Hutts (the crew had yet to tell him why you needed rescuing in the first place).

A few months into joining the crew, it became clear that someone was missing. Sabine’s room held the belongings of another, another person’s blanket and pillow situated on the bottom bunk. An utterance of a stranger’s name was sometimes whispered, accompanied by shadowed looks and a tense silence.

When he got up the nerve to ask, Hera had pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “There’s a reason you’re Spectre 7, not 6. Six is… somewhere.”

“How do we find them?”

Hera hadn’t given an answer, simply letting out a sigh and turning to go back to her tasks.

So the mystery of Spectre 6 lived on, remnants of this girl coming to him in pieces. Little jokes here and there about how Six would yell about this or how she would laugh at that. Ezra started to piece together an image of this girl in his head, imagining a smiling figure with fuzzy features, doing flips and handstands across his mind.

“If only Six was here,” Zeb commented into his comlink as he and Ezra balanced across a skinny support beam. “Little acrobat would come in handy.”

Kanan and Sabine stayed up at odd hours of the night when they weren’t aware Ezra was watching from around the corner, mumbling to themselves as they scoured databases for clues as to where the lost Spectre had gone.

“Bingo,” Sabine grinned, frantically tapping Kanan’s arm. “The mercenaries that took her are from Corellia.”

Kanan set a hand on her shoulder. Hope flashed in his eyes. “Good work. We’ll get her back soon.”

Whoever she was, she sure meant a lot to the crew. So much so that he started to grow bitter at whatever had taken her away—Ezra started to want her back just as much as the rest of them.

And so naturally, when Vizago crawled out whatever hole he dwelled in to drop off a message from the Hutts, Ezra was a rapt listener—it went something along the lines of, “Take back your sewer rat… for five thousand Imperial credits.”

“We don’t have that money,” said Sabine, her voice a new dangerous low. Her eyes lasered in on the table before her as a sense of fury rose within the common.

Zeb scoffed, his fists curling. “Why weren’t the Hutts out first guess? Of course they wanted her back.”

“Why?” Ezra asked without thinking. 

While Zeb’s eyes flashed darkly, Kana answered offhandedly, “Back before we found her, she worked for them—the Hutts—she was their prize weapon.”

“We got her out,” Hera said softly. “But a few weeks before you got here… she went out on a solo mission.” She hugged herself. “I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“She would’ve gone whether you let her or not,” Sabine quipped. “That’s how she is.”

Ezra stepped forward and set his hands on the table everyone gathered around, his eyes raising to assess his friends. “Let’s stop talking about it and make a plan. She can’t be safe there.”

The rescue mission itself was near flawless; Kanan and Hera went forward with a crate “full of credits.” Plot twist: there were no credits. Coming in behind them, Sabine and Chopper infiltrated the lower kitchens of the Hutts’ headquarters, taking out a few droids and taking one prisoner. With a few gentle threats, Sabine sent word to Zeb and Ezra exactly where Spectre 6 was being held. 

That was where the plan went awry; while Zeb was held back by a wary yet naive droid, Ezra slipped past unnoticed, casting Zeb a wave as he dove around a corner and headed deeper into the fortress. 

Finding the cell wasn’t much of a problem, nor was getting the door open—the problem at hand was getting you out of the cell.

You were curled into a shadowed corner like some kind of alley cat, eyes lifting to gaze upon him with nothing but contempt. From the moment he saw you, he had the sense you disliked his very being.

Somehow—he still wonders how—he managed to convince you he was with the Ghost crew, luring you out of the cell and leading you to where the others had started up a racket after getting caught with no payment. The final escape was slim, and your hair was singed from a too-close blaster fire.

Ezra noticed, eyes wide as he moved to swat at the slowly rising smoke. “Are you okay?”

You swatted him away, glare ready and waiting. “Fine.” And you disappeared, rushing deep into the ship with a frazzled Hera on your tail.

His every attempt at communication after was met with backlash. You really did seem like a cat in his mind, all hissy and skittish. 

“Be patient,” is what everyone told him, but really, it was getting out of hand. After three months of your return, you had yet to drop your hatred, and it was starting to interfere in missions. 

Just last week he’d been about to make a shot that would have saved time concerning a quick escape when you completely ignored his presence and tripped him. 

“Sorry,” you’d said, not sounding very sorry at all.

That wasn’t the end of it either.

“Do you need something?”

“Go be useful, if you can.”

“Could you be more amazingly purposeless here?”

Ezra had to give it to you, you certainly had a knack for tearing down a guy’s self-esteem. Each insult seemed to roll off your tongue so easily that Ezra came to correlate your voice with a bad day.

You could not possibly have made Ezra feel more unwelcome, despite everyone’s assurances that you’d warm up eventually. Ezra started to question the crew’s definition of eventually. He really hoped you would start to like him soon, because you were quite possibly one fo the coolest people he’d ever seen.

When you weren’t actively making his life difficult, you were training day in and day out, practicing acrobatics atop the Ghost. Not to mention, if he and Kanan didn’t have some sixth sense thanks to the Force, your movements would be deadly silent. You moved like a specter, like your feet never even touched the ground. 

Today was like most days in accordance with you; you ignored his existence save for the occasional backlash whenever he stepped into your vicinity, and Ezra was left to wonder after the dark and nearly forlorn look constantly trapped in your eyes (he always tried to despise you, like he could easily despise Zeb at times, but there was something in how lost you looked that stopped him).

Though, today was different. Every once in a while you took to the habit of taking his beloved helmet for reasons only the stars could know. On these days he could scour the Ghost to find you lazing about like a cat, donning his helmet as you stared at the expanse of sky from the gunner. 

So he immediately set out for the gunner of the ship, already preparing his quippy remark, only to falter when you were nowhere in sight. Ezra squinted at the vacant seat, zeroing in on the dual beskar knives safely in their sheathes. Beskar, he awed for the umpteenth time. He’d asked after them too many times to count, only receiving one answer from Sabine: “We used to have similar lines of work. She was very skilled at hers. That came with perks.”

And the mystery of you expanded, as it always did.

“Hey.” Ezra looked into the dimness of your and Sabine’s room, finding the latter at her desk fiddling with her recently damaged blaster. “You seen Six?”

“Why?” She sighed as her blaster sparked up again. “You gonna start problems?”

“Okay, one, I never start anything with her. Two, I just want my helmet back.”

Sabine threw her blaster down, frustrated. “Haven’t seen her today. You checked the gunner?”

“Three times, just in case she was hiding.” That got a laugh from Sabine, who shifted to stand and stretch. 

“Then I dunno how to help you, kid. She’s gotta be somewhere.”

That would have been fine advice, if for the rest of the day Ezra didn’t continue searching the recesses of the ship, his intent slowly shifting from demanding back his helmet to just making sure you’re still alive. 

Ezra burst into the common room around the time the whole crew was gathering to grab something to eat at the end of the day, his hands planted on either side of the door as he said with a sudden urgency. “Has anyone seen Six?”

Sabine had the nerve to roll her eyes. “Again with the helmet? She’ll give it back—”

“Has anyone seen her?” Ezra cut in to demand once more, scanning his eyes across the room. “Think.”

Only a moment passed before the others started to furrow their brows and shift around. Hera glanced up at Ezra. “Not since this morning.”

A murmur of agreement ran through the crew. No one had seen her all day, neither had they heard her voice from across the ship, shouting about something or other that someone had done wrong.

Thus, the manhunt began, but even when everyone was shouting your name throughout the ship, there was no response. Lothal’s moons had already risen about halfway into the sky. Creatures started to come out at this hour, varying from the wild things to troopers. 

You were out on the Lothal plains after dark, without your knives, and Ezra suddenly forgot every wrong you’d done against him. You were a pain in his ass, but if you were gone, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. 

Setting out was the easy part, Hera and Chopper staying behind to watch the Ghost whilst the others rushed into the night, armed with their weapon of choice. Ezra took one of the stolen speeders stowed away in the hold, swinging a leg over and taking off across the plains as Sabine took the second speeder in the other direction. 

Ezra tried to ignore the wind hitting his face and focused solely on the hum of the speeder, the sway of the tall grasses, and the sudden and faint flutter of a heartbeat somewhere in the distance. Over the course of his training with Kanan, Ezra took to secretly memorizing the sound of your spirit, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your notorious sneak attacks. 

Practically shutting off everything other sense, he leaned to the right, following the ringing of your heart and soul deeper into the plains. The grasses grew taller here, unhindered by farming, and rocks stretched high into the sky, forming a sort of labyrinth between them. He weaved the speeder in and out of several stone mountains, sensing the ring growing closer. 

The ground elevated into a slope as the rocks fell away to reveal dusty ground, and Ezra took a left at the very last large mountain. It opened up to a bluff overlooking the East. Ezra slowed the speeder to a light rev, the ringing now a strong buzz, and your heart a steady beat in his head. 

You were here, that was for sure. 

Cutting the ignition, Ezra stepped off the speeder and sauntered forward, eyes scanning the area. Just when the buzz and ring of the force grew too much, Ezra caught a movement ahead of him, and the sounds all fell away. A figure was sprawled out on the grass, shifting every few seconds like they couldn’t get comfortable.

Then the figure sighed, and Ezra confirmed it was you (he’d heard that agitated sound enough times to know it as yours). 

Ezra should have learned by now to proceed with extreme caution, but he had always been a stubborn learner, so he trudged through the grass uncaring of the crunching underfoot. You lurched upward like a frightened animal, eyes locked on him in her instant. Ezra instantly drew a mental image of a loth cat, hackles risen and fangs bared. The likeness was uncanny.

“What’re you doing here?” You sat back slowly, examining him carefully.

He nearly scoffed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Blinking blankly, you turned and plopped down on the grass, facing the plains. He stood for an awkward few moments before you snapped, “I’m fine. You can go.”

“Yeah, right.” He plopped down in the dirt beside you, a generous berth between you. “You scared the kark out of everyone.”

Your answer was instantaneous. “Why?”

Ezra paused, thought some, looked at you, and spat the awkward words out. “We care about you.”

You waited for the blow, the butt of the joke, but it never came, and you were left awkwardly staring at his profile. “Oh.”

“Is that a surprise?” he wondered.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not for the others…”

Ezra rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands, unable to take it any longer. “Can I ask you something? Why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked as if the question shocked you, and wasn’t at all valid. “What? I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he scoffed. You huffed and turned away, crossing your arms over your knees. 

“Well, I don’t. You’re just…”

“Just what?”

Pursing your lips, your eyes darted back to meet his, brows furrowed. “Annoying.”

Ezra met your gaze back with a mirrored intensity. “And you’re rude.”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d leave me alone.”

“We’re on this crew together!” he snapped. “I physically cannot ignore you. So, if you could get over whatever grudge you have against me, that’d be great!”

“Don’t—” You got a grip on your emotions, averting your attention to the sky. In a softer tone, you warned, “Don’t yell at me.”

Taken aback, Ezra gave you an odd look, shifting to catch your eye. You just shifted further away from him, grunting something under your breath. You’d always been so haunted and withdrawn. No one would ever tell him why.

It couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Are you…” He hesitated, waiting till you cast him a glance. “Are you okay? Why were you with the Hutts? And what does it have to do with bounty hunters? Why—”

You sneered as your hand clamped down on his mouth, nearly knocking him backward. Holding his eyes in a glare, you huffed. “Just shut up, okay? You ask too many questions.” You plopped back down and retracted your hand. “Annoying, like I said.”

“I want to help you.”

“Did I ask?”

The silence was thick, broken only by the chirping of bugs in the tall stalks all around. You ran a hand over your face, almost trying to hide, before sighing and glaring at the sky. “Whatever… I used to be something of a bounty hunter. A weapon, more like.”

Ezra felt like that should have been obvious, and did his best to hold back his questions as you shifted uncomfortably. “Some bad people with the Guild found me as a kid, when I was just some nobody doing acrobat tricks for money. They thought I had potential, so they just… took me. Didn’t really matter. It was better than the streets, I guess.”

Tugging at your hair, you gave a little shrug. “They taught me a lot about killing and stealing and what-not. Long story short, I was sold to the Hutts like this shiny new assassin toy.” You pumped a fist. “Yay.”

He felt a little bad for grinning, sniffing as he nodded. “Then what? You got here somehow.”

“I’m getting there,” you gritted. You tried to look pissed, but couldn’t hold back a slight grin. “Sabine found me, like, a year before they found you. She was on a mission, and I tried to pick-pocket her. She chased me a mile around the city before she caught me.  A shorter story short, the crew helped me escape the Hutts, and the rest is history.”

One thing still didn’t add up. “How’d the Hutts get you back?”

“Oh, uhm… they caught me.” There is was again; haunted, a shadow crossing your eyes as memories played up in your head. “I, uh, didn’t think the crew would come after me, to be honest. I kinda resigned myself to a life trapped on Tatooine.” 

You caught his eye. “Then you showed up and broke me out.”

“Was that such a surprise?”

“Maybe. I mean,” you murmured whilst playing with the grass. “It didn’t take too long for them to replace me, did it?”

And suddenly, it all fell perfectly into place. All the hatred and coldness, the malice and contempt… you thought they’d replaced you. Really? Ezra coudln’t stop the laugh bubbling out of his chest, not even when you shot him a deathly glower.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just—What?” Ezra shifted ot his knees, beaming down at you as he shook his head. “They never replaced you. All I ever heard when I joined was about this mysterious crewmate they’d lost.” He flicked your forehead. “If they replaced you, then why’re you still Spectre 6 and I’m Spectre 7?”

You started to snap back only to stop short, gaping like a fish as you grasped for some kind of defense. You couldn’t find one, apparently, and promptly snapped your mouth shut. 

“I never thought of that,” you muttered at last.

No duh. Ezra barely held back a roll of his eyes. “Think about it then.”

You did (he could tell form your thoughtful sneer) and you slowly raised your gaze to look at him again. The haunting was still there, but your eyes were softer than they’d ever been when laid upon him. “I’m… sorry.” The way your face scrunched up amde it seem like ti was painful to say, your monotone going on, “The way I’ve treated you hasn’t been fair.”

“Thanks,” he said with a gentle nod, and an awkwardness settled around the pair of you. “So… wanna head back?”

Instantly you shook you head, returning your attention to the sky. “Not yet. Wanna watch the stars.”

He noticed your lack of jacket just as he shivered. “You’ve gotta be cold.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. You can head back if you want.”

Ezra didn’t move an inch. All he could think wa sthat maybe, he was finally going to get to know the Six the crew knew. The one who laughed freely and pulled tricks. The one that played hide and seek with Kanan and was always so frustrated when he cheated and used to force to find you. 

So he stayed right where he was, lazing back on the grass to have a better view of the sky. “Nah. I’ll stay.”

You cast him a short glance as you laid back as well. “Okay…”

Only an hour later, when you’d fallen asleep and punched Ezra when he tried to wake you (“I’m sorry!” “Yeah, yeah.”), did you and Ezra head back to the Ghost. You kept falling asleep on him, forcing him to use one hand to steer the speeder and the other to keep you hands around his middle. 

Relief coursed through him when he caught sight of the ship, warm light flowing from the open hatch, a few silhouetted figures pacing back and forth. He pulled the speeder to a stop and leg you go, sighing even as you slid off and hit the ground with a thud.

Probably not the best choice, especially not when Hera bolted from where she sat and rushed to your side. “What happened? It she all right?” She glared up from the ground. “Ezra!” 

He raised his hands in surrender, trying to defend himself, when you groaned and blinked blearily around. “Why am I on the ground…?”

Hera gripped your shoulder and held your face in her palm, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded hesitantly and tried not to seem too content with the soft touches. “Yeah? I was just asleep.”

Harsh footsteps echoed form the ship and out stomped Zeb moments later, rough around the edges per usual. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Uhm, out?” you replied, brows vaulted as Sabine rushed out beyond him. The whole crew stood around, all looking a mix of relieved and pissed. “I was just up on the bluffs…”

Hera let out a sigh and allowed you to sit up on your own. “And that’s fine, but you should tell someone before you disappear all afternoon.”

“I didn’t think it mattered that much.” You shifted around and stood to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. 

No one really said anything, only exchanged odd glances, until Hera blinked quickly and set a hand on your shoulder. “You look cold. Come on.”

She made to guide you inside when you suddenly stopped, turned to Ezra, and grinned tightly. “You’re… not so bad.”

And with that, Hera dragged you into the warmth fo the Ghost, leaving behind you a fairly confused crew. All eyes fell to Ezra as he smirked and gave a simple shrug. Sabine offered up a smile of her own before she snapped and pointed at the boy. “Oh, you were looking for your helmet right?”

He’d completely forgotten. “Oh, yeah.”

She passed a hand over his hair, ruffling it up. “It’s under your desk, idiot.”

Ezra huffed, hiding the flush in his cheeks as he muttered under his breath, following after Zeb and Sabine as they headed inside the ship. The hatch rose up behind them and hissed shut just as Kanan came up beside Ezra, one brow raised. 

“So you two are friends now?”

He rolled his eyes at that. “I think so? She’s very cryptic. But, I don’t think she hates me.”

Kanan laughed. “That’s a start, I suppose.”

Ezra had to agree. 

And as time would pass, and your walls slowly tore down to reveal a human so bright and radiant, both you and Ezra nearly forgot all about the days you’d come close to murdering him. 

[inactive-fics]

Not That Bad (one shot)

Summary: You get shot. Kanan gets pissed. Pairing: Kanan Jarrus x Reader

WC: 500

A/N: I wrote this back in January and thought I was gonna do something more with it but I'm honestly not sure. It's not great BUT its better than nothing while I work on this Mereel x Reader x Ordo fic lmao.

“Kanan, it’s not that bad.” You grunt in pain.

He’s dragging you back onto the Ghost as Zeb and Sabine shoot at Lock Syndicate who just happens to be shooting at you. His arm is slung around your waist, your arm around his neck, and he’s holding your hand. In normal circumstances, you’d probably be flustered. 

This rescue mission hadn’t gone all that well, and you’d managed to get yourself shot in the shoulder. 

“Hate to break it to you, but it is, actually.” He glares at you as he nods for you to lift your shirt up.

The pain is definitely unpleasant, but you’ve been shot before. It’s an occupational hazard in this line of work. You’re used to it at this point. 

“Hold still.” His words are hard but his hands are soft against your skin as he holds your arm and applies bacta-spray to the front of your shoulder. 

His hands are always so warm, it makes you lightheaded just thinking about it. All of a sudden, you start to feel a little woozy and don’t realize you’re swaying until Kanan says “Woah, easy there.” and holds you up against himself so that you’re resting your head on his shoulder.

You notice him breathe in, subtly and you chuckle.

“Did you just sniff me?” You whisper.

You feel the ship hit hyperspace and then realize you hadn’t even noticed everyone else getting on board. 

“Your hair smells nice.” He shrugs against you. “Which is rather incredible despite the grime on all of us after that mission.” 

You laugh softly, sleepily as the pain starts to subside from the bacta.

And as if he could sense you closing your eyes, he gently helps you up from the booth and guides you to your bunk room that you share with Sabine, who happens to not be present at the moment, thankfully. You know she would give you a teasing glance. 

Kanan slowly guides you down to your bunk. “There you go.” 

“You were angry at me earlier.” You murmur.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” You turn your head toward him, finding him kneeling down next to you.

He rubs a hand over his face, as if he’s debating on being honest with you. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He shrugs. 

“Yeah it does.” You trace your finger over the curve of his nose, smiling as you stop at his bottom lip. 

His lips part easily and his stare feels heavier. 

“I was angry because… the thought of losing you…” He whispers. “I… I don’t think I could handle it.” 

Oh. 

“Kanan-” You start but he just squeezes your hand.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when you’re better rested.” He tells you, softly.

Exhaustion settles in your bones and while you really do want to talk about what Kanan just confessed, you know you need to rest. So you nod, and watch him start to leave.

“Kanan?” You call out, making him pause in the doorway to look back at you. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

And with that, you shut your eyes, letting sleep take hold of you.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover

[inactive-fics]

Kanan Jarrus Headcannons

I just HAD to write something and had to write something for Kanan Jarrus so read this and be happy. I just got done watching his literal death. Be nice to me. I’m still recovering. I was also writing this while writing a grocery list so…yea. Good look me!

He and Hera were not quite in their bedtime activities. Everyone knew they were together before they knew they were together.

And remember my last point? Well someone told me Kanan can be seen coming out of Hera’s room late one night in one of the episodes. He was totally sleeping with her. So no. It was no surprise when they made it official. I noticed after that no one cared lol so they 100% knew.

And we all know they had a kid. So they got freaky.

Ezra is like Kanan’s brother/son. They have their moments. Sometimes Ezra annoys Kanan to no end so he’s like his brother.

I think when Kanan lost his eyesight and had to become stronger in the Force is when he started acting more like Ezra’s father.

Both matured so no shock there.

The master/padawan relationship just left no room for “brotherhood” when Ezra got older. Like opening of season 3 when Kanan first lost his eyesight and Ezra was using the Dark Side is when Kanan knew he had to smarten up.

Anyway those are some headcannons of mine.

And seriously someone hit my inbox with fic recs because I got no ideas!!!

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me when the trope is friends who are brothers in every way except blood but the younger one betrays the older one and the older realizes he has to kill the younger for the sake of others knowing it will kill his soul to do so 💔💔

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Han Solo thrives on you having subtle signs you’ve been near him, particularly if you used to insist you wanted nothing to do with him. Anything from smelling a bit like him to wearing his jacket drives him genuinely mad, he loves it.

Prideful bastard.

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I exist to solely to rewatch Star Wars and create content on tumblr.

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STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS (2008-2020) 7.09 • "Old Friends Not Forgotten"

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CAN SOMEONE HELP ME FIND THE OG ARTIST

Found this uncredited on Pinterest and I need answers!

Edit: FOUND THEM IT'S @keldabekush

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Star Wars Jedi: Survivor • (dev. Respawn Entertainment)

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I’m using a prompt from this list.

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Prompt: “Every day just feels like a battle I can’t win.”

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Padawan!GN!Reader

Warning: Just angst and characters trying to cope after a tragedy. I messed around a little bit with characters. Obi-Wan isn't as depressed and hiding as much as he was in the show Obi-Wan Kenobi. I imagine if he still had a padawan he would still be mostly himself as we saw when he had to save Leia. He has a responsibility and he's not going to let his own feelings get in the way of that.

With the fall of the Republic, Obi-Wan Kenobi had to take his young padawan into hiding. He wasn't just going to leave them behind. Despite there being no order, they were still his responsibility. After the fight with Anakin...and the loss of Anakin...Obi-Wan didn't forget that still had a padawan.

The Order wasn't around anymore and the Master and Padawan had to go into hiding. Despite this though, Obi-Wan refused to allow Y/N to cease in their Force training. If anything, watching over Luke as he grew up under the care of Owen, and needing to train his padawan, gave him the strength to keep on going.

Obi-Wan would spend his day working for the meat factory, bringing home small bits of meat for him and Y/N but the work wasn't finished. He had to commence training Y/N no matter how tired he was from working.

"Y/N, I know it's been hard. But you must keep your strength up. I will not allow you to weaken in the Force. You must--" Obi-Wan's words were halted when Y/N speaks up.

"Every day just feels like a battle I can't win."

That put a pause in Obi-Wan. Y/N often pushes through, using their master as a role model for how they should get out of bed when it's hard.

"Y/N," he says with a sigh. "That's why you keep fighting. You're young. Most of your life you've spent fighting." He deactivated his lightsaber, motioning for them to do the same so they can sit with him.

Y/N's shoulders slump as they feel their master listening to them. They set their lightsaber, deactivated, on a rock before sitting next to their master.

"Master," they say. "I don't want to anymore. Times have changed. I do not understand why you continue to train me when the Jedi are all but dead or hiding. Aren't you just setting me up for my own death?"

That was a hard question. It's going to be hard for him to give them an answer.

"Young one, when you lose, you mustn't give up. You are the future of the galaxy. I know how it feels. Every day is a battle. You don't want to be caught but you also don't want your life to end. You don't want the Empire to take away what little you have."

Obi-Wan's point is clear. Despite what life has given them, they can't simply let go of what they used to value most. Y/N and Obi-Wan used to train together even when war was ravaging the galaxy. Even while tired from battle, the two continued training.

Even now, with the Jedi all in hiding or already dead, they can't let go of what they still have.

"Every day is a battle, but you know a thing or two about winning those battles. Don't you?" There's a twinkle in Obi-Wan's eye as he says this. "Don't throw away what you still have. Don't allow the Dark side to weaken you and send the wolves in."

There's a moment of silence as Y/N chews on Obi-Wan's words. Don't throw away what you still have? "Master," they murmur. "You've told me the Jedi must remain in hiding. I don't understand how this is hiding. Can't an inquisitor simply walk by us and see what we're doing?"

Obi-Wan's expression darkens when they ask that. "What do you think we'll do if that happens?" "Run." That's all Y/N said. Run away and never come back to Tatooine again.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "You've said every day is a battle. If that is so, and I am sure it is, you don't run. You fight. You protect what you still have." His expression lightens as he stands up once more, activating his lightsaber and giving it a spin.

"Now is not the time to worry about the 'what ifs' of our situation. Now is the time to keep going strong, and stop worrying."

Y/N was still slightly reluctant, but there was no stopping their master. When his lightsaber came down on them and he held it there, they activated their own and Master and Padawan were dueling once again.

The Republic survives only because Master and Padawan won't let the Empire push them into hiding and won't throw away what still remains of them.