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ladyxskywalker · 19 days

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Sighs of Breath & Longing

Obi Wan Kenobi x F!Reader/OFC

stolen glances on your ship to alderaan pass inside the comfort of your loving in between, where a certain little princess wills obi wan into taking a closer look inside his heart…

an older story from 2022, reposting for anyone who likes obi 🌸 ** may contain spoilers for episode four of the kenobi series

You begin to watch him from afar as he’d taken kindly to the little girl – the softened princess with her gentle eyes, and only the strongest of hearts, caring for him instantly. The comfort that she’d been found and that he had done that for her, instilling such wordless relief woven by the joining of their palms.

For a moment it felt as though his eyes had no longer been so weary; that innocence and sensitivity given freely from a child - at the mere touch of her delicate hand alone, had all at once filled him with the warmth he had lost.

You could only imagine what that might have meant for him; to give in to that tender fill of patience laced by love, now that you’ve had a quiet chance to rest after everything that has just gone on…

A feeling of your own – so distantly imagined, that once she’d been safely returned to Alderaan, what then, could this journey imply for you both?

Would he have wanted you to stay with him, just as he sensed your breathless kindness there watching from a delicate veil of cast shadows?

Had he been in tune with all of your heartfelt thoughts and musings, when the sterling blue of his eyes had reflected something slightly hopeful in them, right then as he’d just looked up?

If perhaps you might have slipped away, would you only have dreamed of it yourself?

The passing glance, holding still against your eyes, enlivened there by amber shades of grey, and waiting all at once?

You can only bring yourself to smile softly; to hold onto those stray moments where even the little one has intuitively quirked her brow.

Eyeing the way she leans over to him playfully, her all knowing grin glides itself alight wholeheartedly with wonder, whispering something to him that makes him sigh so endearingly out loud.

“Ben, aren’t you going to talk to her?”

He looks to her fondly with a subtle light of exasperation; something entirely too familiar about it all, awakening his memory to much kinder thoughts.

“Now is not the time, Leia.”

“But isn’t it?”

Shaking your head all to yourself, his ethereal stare lays claim to you all over again, as if the time for saying things, or even feeling them, hadn’t been more perfect than it had right now.

“You’re too smart for your own good.”

“I know.”

That when he taps her knee the slightest bit conspiratorially, as if to say – stay out of trouble, little one, so soon he can be seen walking over; smoothing the coarse tufts of his beard all the while nervously, between his forefinger, and thumb.

“You know…”

He begins, curiously; a certain glimmer left behind to his eyes when he whispers to you once.

“…a very brave, young lady told me that I should come over here, do you think perhaps she might have been right to assume as much?”

Smiling gently from the ship’s farthest end, the gliding feel of your silhouette slips around him, lending a soft wave of your hand to one of the ship’s doors, as it closes right behind you.

“I do, if that is what you might have wanted.”

He breathes you in even nearer, then; wordlessly tracing the slightest hitch of your breath as it hovers past the chill of night, and the dimly held light upon the wall.

“It was.”

For a moment you sense his eyes, and how they’ve wandered off in the careful feel of softened time that passes, finding yourself wondering about all it is that he could possibly be thinking about.

“Are you hurt, General?”

He looks away, tired eyes reflecting all of their blue, where no longer they lay solemn.

“I’ll be alright.”

Your shoulders fall, an exhale of breath soon to give way toward a faded sense of relief, sighing when nothing else comes.

“Forgive me for overstepping, but…”

And he turns to you amidst a cascade of idle shadows, instinctually caressing your face as if it had been every wave of truth; so endlessly overwhelming, and pure.

“What is it, darling?”

Leaning into his smooth and capable touch, the drifting feeling of it alone almost leaves you speechless, forgetting all it is you had hoped to say to him from the start.

“I sense such a deepened ache in you, Obi Wan…your body is not the only thing that must heal itself.”

Brushing along your skin, the winding feel of his palm cradles itself tenderly upon your face, as if lovingly entranced by it.

“I know.”

“What you did for her, and all that you’ve just faced…you shouldn’t be alone in this. Not now.”

“I do not want to be, not truly…”

Listening to the inviting sounds of elegance woven throughout his voice, your compassion brings you toward him even closer, colliding with the plush feel of his chest beneath his robes, and the patient way his arms have soon wrapped themselves around.

“…which is why I am here…offering myself as I stand before you.”

“I’m not sure I fully understand your meaning…”

Flush with your hips, the tip of his nose grazes itself past your cheek, pressing a featherlight kiss to you there, before whispering against the skin.

“I think you do.”

The sensations of his tenderness so swiftly have caught onto your entire being, endlessly commanding over all of your nerve endings, just to ignite them with his affection; as if the inevitable pull between you then, just hadn’t been enough.

“I do not know what lies ahead for me.”

His eyes fall away with you into something so heartfelt, and pleading, intuitively sensing all the ways in which you’ve become so wistful.

“Then come with me, wherever I may go, stay here by my side.”

Threading the kindness of your touch throughout his hair, your fingertips catch onto all the honeyed strands of silken gold, finding it most difficult in the sincerity of this moment, not to fall completely when you steady yourself.

“Suddenly I find myself feeling very much lightheaded…”

He grins, pulling you close, all while anchoring you to him; endearing creases there inside his cheeks, enticing you further, lending the flat of your palms in a deft slide along his chest, with his hands, immediately coming up to cover them.

“Good. Then you feel it too.”

So leisurely, the warmth of his air hovers deep inside the span of your entwined arms, leaving you thinking that perhaps all of this just might have been too much.

But it wasn’t.

None of it was, how could it have been?

Not when his hands had been grasping so desperately at your sides like this, before coming round again to rest inside the incredible feel of your longing arch; nudging a trail of marks behind the sensitive shell of your ear, as if you would ever tell him that he should stop…

“Forgive me, it appears I’ve lost myself…”

Caressing his face in both hands, the blur you feel is soon to clouds the many shades of all your looking, so softly once more when you have smiled.

“No apologies, none needed, none at all.”

You kiss him then – lips slotted together and slow, enveloping the pleasurable scratching of his top lip with your own, before welcoming the sound of a heady groan past the pretty corners of your mouth.

And it stays, fanning aimlessly where it’s been driven outwards from his chest, embracing you impassioned there around; the languid circle of his tongue, tethering to all your tension, just as soon as the fervent feeling threatens to infinitely break apart.

… 💙

thanks so much for reading 💐 I think my writing style was a lot different here, in comparison to the way I've been writing stories more recently. I'm trying to loosen up more, and just write what I feel instead of overthinking it too much. simplifying everything is what I'm looking forward to doing now. either way, I hope you enjoyed this & didn't think it was terrible ! 💌 xo

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #kenobi series fanfiction #romantic fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #mutual pining #love declaration #force sensitive #intimacy #sky lady writes

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castiwls · 6 months

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"stay close to the people who feel like sunlight"

being a skywalker and best friends with poe...

Your Luke’s kid and the youngest in your family.

Growing up you were close with your dad as it was mainly just the two of you (your mum was never in the picture)

Like most of your family, you were powerful in the force and in turn, your dad made the decision to train you with your cousin.

You and Poe met when you were kids through a small gathering of such. Old rebellion members would try and meet every few months and it was the Dameron's time to host.

You and Poe were adjoined at the hip after.

You both seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both had a love for flying and both wanted to one day help the galaxy if needed (It would be)

You were kinda opposites in terms of Poe being more impulsive while you were a bit better at thinking things out.

But that was just part of the reason why you both worked so well together.

You’d both stayed in contact mainly through comm calls while you were still with your dad.

Poe thought it was incredibly cool that his best friend was a Jedi.

When Ben fell to the dark side and destroyed the temple it was Poe who you ran to.

You told him everything about what had happened. You were shocked but not surprised that Ben had fallen.

“I Should have seen it coming, the signs were all there…now they're all dead.” Poe shook his head at your words. “No. His actions aren’t your fault. Their deaths are on him, not you.”

After losing Ben and your Dad you stayed with Poe and his dad for a while. Leia would visit from time to time while she was building the Resistance.

You helped gather support.

Eventually, you and Poe made the decision to go and fight in the war. You both took on a squadron.

You were pretty much an unstoppable force together (When you weren't arguing)

Fighting helped you to take your mind off your father's disappearance.

Poe insisted on helping you in the search for your father.

He also stole your lightsaber a few times.

“What are you doing?” You grinned slightly coming up behind him. Poe jumped swearing under his breath before quickly pushing the saber behind his back. “Nothing just looking for my jacket.”

You taught him a few simple tricks after that. He never shut up about it to your friends and how you had let him use your saber.

At times when the war was quieter, you would both go find somewhere quiet in the woods around the base and just sit and talk for hours.

You’d tell him about stories your dad told you. You’d also sometimes talk about stories you’d found out about your grandfather from the Clone Wars. (You spent a lot of time looking at old articles as a child)

Poe would tell you about his mom slowly.

You were each other's biggest supporters and would do anything for the other.

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron headcanons #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x force sensitive!reader #poe dameron imagine #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x daughter #star wars sequel trilogy #oscar issac #.mine #.starwars #.poedameron

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yandere-daydreams · 25 days

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I think the appeal for haircuts as a kink thing is really similar to bodymods? Like you're taking someone with 3ft long healthy hair they're proud of and cutting it all off as a punishment a little at a time, or for the more positive ones, they're taking super matted hair that hurts to even touch and the relief of having it all taken off is super good (in that case it COULD be physically kind of sexual, probably) also extensive hair pulling usually comes on the side, which is very hot To Me

i do understand it from sort of a power-play perspective, but i'm just kinda not seeing how to make it explicitly sexual rather than, like, psychological ig T-T like, there's definitely a control aspect to either taking something that someone's taken years to cultivate and maintain and destroying it to suit your own standards or, alternatively, taking something highly personal that someone's failed to maintain into your own hands because you've deemed the person it belongs to incapable of doing so, but i really do need there to be a vibrator involved or something. we're writing porn here, i have a checklist to follow.

#alternatively reader just has a /very/ sensitive scalp and their yan takes advantage of that #or it's the yan forcing their darling to give them a haircut and just. cums untouched like two minutes into it #either/or #personal #anon ask

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anonymousewrites · 4 months

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Clan of Three Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Pride Special 2024

“What’s going on there?” asked (Y/N) as they, Mando, and Bo-Katan walked through the streets of a planet that they were meeting with for trade deals with Mandalore.

“It looks to be some kind of festival,” said Bo-Katan, glancing off to the side.

(Y/N) watched curiously as the festival continued. There were people dancing to music and holding up banners of every color possible. One sign read “Pride in who I am,” and something in (Y/N)’s heart ached at the word.

They knew they were different than others—alone in a universe full of cultures. Ushti had been destroyed, ravaged by the Empire. (Y/N) had no family or home left there. And now at Mandalore, they were forced to recognize (often) that they had not been born Mandalorian and so didn’t understand or connect to the other children as much as they wanted to. (Y/N) tried, and, since they had their Buir and had been literally chosen by Mandalore the Great for…something. So, yes, they belonged.

But they were also force-sensitive, had nearly become a jedi, and that would have made them an enemy of Mandalorians. Of course, they also had less of a gendered identity as others, and that sometimes made them feel different. So, between all the cultures, abilities, and identities they held, sometimes (Y/N) felt very separate from people—as if they did belong in any one place.

It had worked out, and (Y/N) had a great family and bonds, but sometimes…sometimes they wondered if who they were was too fractured. They were just a teenager, after all. Their sense of self wasn’t complete, and they were still learning to be comfortable in their own skin.

“Huh…” said (Y/N), forcing themself to look away and focus on the walk towards the council chambers. They and Mando would be backing up Bo-Katan in preliminary discussions. So, (Y/N) had no time to doubt themself. They needed to focus.

“Are you alright, Verd’ika?” asked Mando. Grogu babbled in his arms.

“I’m fine,” said (Y/N), nodding. “Just tired of treaty-making already.”

“We haven’t even started,” said Bo-Katan.

“Exactly,” said (Y/N).

Bo-Katan chuckled in amusement, and Mando shook his head fondly. Both adults knew that, despite (Y/N)’s aptitude (and desire) for fights, they were surprisingly skilled at speaking with people, too. Not a lot of the time, but when Bo-Katan had them around in council meetings or discussions for treaties, (Y/N) would run their mouth and go through anger, annoyance, and then helpfulness (accidentally).

After everything with the Darksaber and (Y/N)’s visions of Mandalore the Great, Bo-Katan and Mando had come to the conclusion that (Y/N) was suited to helping others. The world seemed to want them to, and (Y/N) was good at it.

Neither would push (Y/N) into leading or trying to make them take on more responsibility, but they both knew it. Mando in particular had seen that (Y/N) had strength and the force (literally, the Force) to fight for what they cared about, and he, although lacking force-sensitivity, felt something lay within them that would make them an impressive Mandalorian—even more than they already were.

But, again, Mando would never push them towards anything. That was his kid. He wasn’t going to push (Y/N) into anything they weren’t capable of, and they had already been through so much, so Mando would be damned before someone hurt what little childhood and safety he could offer his ad’ika.

And if they seemed interested in a festival in the middle of debates for treaties? Mando would make sure they had a moment to have fun instead of being stuck in politics.

Mando would make sure (Y/N) had the joyful moments they deserved.

“So, we’re in accordance?” said Bo-Katan, smiling pleasantly as she leaned back in her chair. Across the table, the council members of the planet nodded.

“Yes, the terms of trade are favorable. We are pleased to have Mandalore back, and, these terms will be upheld should you start producing materials for trade once more,” said a council member.

“Good,” said Bo-Katan, rising. She shook the council members’ hands.

Mando didn’t move from where he stood as a guard in shining beskar. It would be more intimidating if not for the little green child riding on his shoulder. However, he was helped by the teenager by his side, harsh marking around their eyes as they glowered at everyone who had tried to get more out of the trading agreement then was fair ((Y/N) always caught those types of people, and it was yet another reason Bo-Katan and Mando were proud of them).

“If you have any time, you should stay for the festival,” said one council member, one of the ones that had actually been helpful. “It is quite nice, and after business, it is a nice break.”

“What is it about?” asked Mando.

“It is a Pride festival to celebrate our people’s struggles centuries ago against bigotry due to sexuality or gender,” explained the councilor, smiling. “It is to celebrate being ourselves.”

“We’ll consider it,” said Bo-Katan. “Thank you for meeting with us.” She walked out of the room with Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N).

“Verd’ika do you want to go?” asked Mando as they walked.

(Y/N) glanced at him. “I don’t care.”

“We’re going,” said Mando firmly. He knew (Y/N) had been interested, so he was taking them to it.

“I didn’t know you were queer,” said Bo-Katan.

“I don’t label myself,” said Mando as they turned through the streets towards the swell of music.

Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “I’m bisexual.” She glanced at (Y/N). “What about you, kid?”

“I don’t label my sexuality,” said (Y/N). “I don’t really know what it is. But I’m nonbinary.”

“Then we all have something to celebrate,” said Bo-Katan. She spotted a stand with some food. “Have fun. We’ll meet back at the ship in an hour.” She walked to get herself some food, and Mando and (Y/N) were left alone.

(Y/N) watched the people dancing and marching down the street, and Mando looked at them.

“You should join them. You should be proud of yourself,” said Mando.

“I’m not insecure about my gender identity,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “I’ve never had an issue with that.”

“You should be proud of your entire identity,” said Mando. “You’ve been very strong over the years. You should remember that. You fought to be here today.”

(Y/N)’s heart clenched, and they shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, but I don’t really belong here. I didn’t fight for their rights. Besides, I’m not from this planet. I’m Ushti. And Mandalorian. And…I’m a lot.”

“You don’t have to be one thing,” said Mando.

(Y/N) glanced at him. “Yeah, but I’m a lot.”

“That’s fine,” said Mando. “You’re a good kid. You’re my kid. And I’m proud of who you are. All of who you are.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. “Even if I’m Ushti and force-sensitive and Mandalorian and trouble?”

“I wouldn’t want you to change who you are,” said Mando. “You wouldn’t be my verd’ika if you weren’t.”

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Thanks, Buir.” They stepped towards the crowd of celebrators.

Mando watched them go. They had grown so much, and they still had so much longer to go. One day, they were going to be someone incredible. Actually, (Y/N) already was. But Mando was glad they weren’t grown up yet. They deserved to just exist and be happy with who they were in the present, first. The future would come, but it wasn’t there today.

Today, (Y/N) was (Y/N). And that was enough.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

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dragonrider9905 · 6 months

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Also find me on Ao3--DragonRider9905

Everything is separated by series

Canon

One Shots/Stand Alones

Hunter's Stress Journal

Clonetober 2022

Lessons from the Past Offer Hope for a Golden Future

AUs

To Be a Jedi (Hunter Force-Sensitive AU)

The Clone's Incomplete Guide for Navigating the Afterlife (We're Learning as We Go)

Technically, We’re in Love (Tech/OC)—Same AU as Broken, Not Shattered

Broken, Not Shattered (Crosshair/OC)(Hunter/OC)—Same AU as Technically

With You From Dusk till Dawn (Hunter/OC)

The World Where You Live (Hunter/OC) (Tech/OC)

Reader Inserts

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

Feel free to comment and/or reblog. Would be much appreciated!

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floral-force · 1 year

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first request ever for you so HERE WE GO! i’m kinda stuck on the thought of like, angst right now. maybe hurt/comfort. but here’s the idea: i haven’t finished s3 yet so pardon me if this is completely wrong, but imagine like, in general, din, the other mandalorian and friends are going to battle to like re-take mandalore or smth, take over smth that’s very important. reader and grogu are both force sensitive and when din thinks victory is theirs, one last attack hits, making reader grab grogu and like bins their force together like from fire, and reader ends up getting burned. i need a nice juicy hurt/comfort with some marriage at the end 🤞

I really ran away with this idea. I needed to flex my din djarin muscles again and this was a great prompt for that! I got into a flow, one thing led to another, and now I present you with the fic below. all I can do now is sit and hope you enjoy it!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

The Only Hope for Me Is You

Din Djarin x GN!Reader, Force user!Reader

summary: Din’s fearless, Force-sensitive partner has been at his side through everything. Unknown to him, his partner has slowly fallen in love with him. When Din gets the chance to start a new life after they help retake Mandalore, a confession paves a new path. Will they choose to take it?

words: 4.8k+

warnings/tags: my blog is 18+ ONLY/NO MINORS, fluff, first kiss, minor injury (burn), Mando'a pet names, marriage, soft!din djarin, the helmet comes off, grogu is a guest star

read on ao3 | masterlist | send a request

They were fearless and brave—something Din deeply admired about them. They never hesitated to protect Grogu or scout ahead of Din. Sometimes, he’d nearly beg them to stay behind him or at least stay close. They’d insist that they’d be okay— “I have the Force on my side, Din”—but the love he carried for them in his beskar-plated chest would have him close to begging them to let him protect them. Din would fall to his knees for them and grant their every wish. He wished he could rip open his chest and show them how his heart beat only for them and the child.

Din had gripped their arms before they both left the ship to retake Mandalore, had told them that they needed to put their and the child’s safety first. He thought he’d gotten through to them, had broken through their stubbornness. Din really thought that telling them how important they were to him back on Nevarro would soften it and make them more compliant when he asked them to listen for their own safety. They’d nodded and held Grogu closer to their chest, leaned into Din’s touch when he put a gloved hand on their cheek, kissed his palm with their soft lips.

Din should have known better.

When a fireball was headed towards where he, Bo, Grogu and they knelt, Din knew Bo’s small shield would do nothing. He accepted that he’d die for his home and his people. He’d closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made peace with it as it barreled towards them, the heat closing in. But when he looked to his side to look at them and Grogu one last time, they weren’t there. They were on their knees next to the child in front of him and Bo, their left arm extended, the other flat against the ground behind Grogu. Their body was angled slightly in front of Grogu, a protective stance so they would take the brunt of any injury. His breath caught in his throat when he realized the fire was splitting around them, diverted by an invisible forcefield that they and Grogu created with their powers. Bo looked at Din, and he glanced at her, but kept his helmet trained on them.

Din moved again when the fire dissipated and they yelped, falling forward to the ground, Grogu plopping down to sit. His breath caught in his throat—they were alive, but he could tell their breaths were labored from exertion. Bo scooped Grogu into her arms and nodded at Din before lifting into the air. Din shook his head when he took them into his arms, noticing a blistering burn spreading up their left forearm from the wrist to the elbow. As he followed Bo into the air and escaped with them from the crumbling cave, he squeezed them closer in his arms, whispering their name to himself.

He hoped to whatever powers may be that they would be okay, that he’d get to spend another day with his brave partner and son.

“Din?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. Your vision was blurry and the environment around you was dark and quiet. All you knew was that you were laying down on a ship, the mattress under your back firm and the hum of engines filling your ears. Your pulse quickened and you nearly shouted, “Where am I?”

Your anxiety started to fade away when a familiar hand brushed your head, rubbing its thumb across your sweaty forehead.

“Shh, cyar’ika, I’m here.” Your vision adjusted, and you saw a beskar helmet hovering over you. Din was on your left side, forcing you to gently turn your head to see him better. “We’re going back to Nevarro.”

You made a mental note to ask him about that word later. “It’s over?”

He nodded. “It’s over.” When you went to move your left arm, you hissed in pain. Din gently pressed your hand back down to rest on the rack. “You’re hurt. Don’t move that arm.”

You lifted your head up and looked down your torso to see your forearm wrapped in a bandage, some pink splotches bleeding through the white material. You looked for Grogu, but when you didn’t see him, you panicked.

“Where is—What happened to Gro—”

“He’s okay,” Din assured, his voice low and grounding.

He was the calm in your storm, always calling you back when you drifted away. It was one of the things you loved about him. Din centered you and grounded you, reminded you of your strength and power. Without Din, you’d surely be dead by now. Even the Force couldn’t save you from making rash decisions driven by emotion alone.

It was why you couldn’t train Grogu when Din found you and asked you. You’d agreed to travel with him and at least get Grogu started, help him start to channel his abilities. At least you’d be able to leave the backwater planet you were hiding on and start to consider the possibility of a new life elsewhere. Slowly, you got to know your beskar pilot better, constantly fighting the feelings growing within you. He was witty and smart, protective and surprisingly passionate. Din had made it incredibly hard not to fall for him when he gave you gentle touches and soft reassurances.

You were the one comforting him when he gave Grogu away to Luke Skywalker. Din had looked at you later on Boba’s ship and taken your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. You selfishly hoped he felt the same, but it wasn’t likely. You had let your feelings consume you not long ago, but you stood on uncertain ground with the armored object of your affection. The doubt festered within you even after he’d taken you aside and told you that you mattered a great deal to him and the child, and that you needed to be careful.

But those feelings were why you didn’t hesitate to leave his side and stay next to the selfless little child as he fought back the fireball. You joined him and felt your energy quickly fading; you hadn’t exerted yourself this much in years. You held on and fought back the black threatening your vision, pushing yourself to protect your little family and the woman who had looked out for all of you. You must have let go a little too early, judging by the bandage on your arm. If getting a burn meant your family survived, then you would gladly offer your skin to the flames every day for the rest of your life.

Looking into the visor above you, you had no doubt in your mind about where your heart was and who you were called home to. The galaxy had given you a purpose when Din had entered your small hut with a tiny, big-eared, green baby in his satchel. You were determined to fight for them with every breath you took. Even if Din didn’t feel the same, you’d defend him with your dying breath. That was what mattered.

“Are you okay, Din?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

He nodded and reached over your torso to place a hand on your waist, gripping it as if he could lose you again at any moment. “I’m fine, cyar’ika. Bo is flying us back to Nevarro, and we’ll go from there.”

There was that word again. You swallowed and felt fatigue sweeping over your body again. You looked up at him and asked meekly, “Can I go back to sleep?”

He chuckled, a low hum in his chest. He said your name with a nod. “Yes. I’ll be here at your side the entire time.”

You gave him one last smile before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

You’d grinned when Din told Karga he’d take up his offer of land and a cabin. The two men shook hands as Grogu cooed in your arms. Greef had looked at you both with a knowing smile.

“Hopefully, you can all rest now. Nevarro is thankful for all that you’ve done.”

Din nodded at his old friend. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Greef shook his head. “Not necessary, my friend. It’s the least I can do.”

The cabin was modest in size and decoration. It had basic furniture and cookware, enough to get by while shopping around for new things. The hot spring in front of the cabin kept Grogu occupied, and the porch let Din kick his feet back and relax for the first time in his life. Din left that same day to make a quick trip to the Adelphi outpost and told you about his offer to Captain Teva upon his return. While it made you nervous—these Imperial remnants were serious threats—you were glad he could return to bounty hunting on his terms with somewhere stable to return to. The end of this journey left you even more uncertain about your place in the world—was it with Din and the child? Were you meant to leave and start a life somewhere else, hiding again?

That night, you sat on the porch with him under the stars. His armor and gloves were off, his bare tan skin in the open air. You felt entirely at peace—Grogu was asleep in the cabin, your belly was still full from dinner, cheeks a little heated from the wine you’d indulged in—and you were overjoyed to be sharing this with Din. Despite your confusion, you were so grateful to share this moment of calm with him as he began a new life. So much so, that you needed to tell him. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things unsaid. You stood up and cleared your throat. His helmet turned to look at you, the hand he had resting on his thigh clenching into a fist.

“Din, I have something to tell you.”

“Are you alright, cyar’ika?” Din asked with worry in his modulated voice. “Is it your burn? Are you injured?”

Before he could get up and fuss over you, you shook your head and pushed on his chest so he’d relax back into the chair. “No, Din, I’m fine. I promise. It’s just—” you bit your lip and glanced around— “this is important.”

“You can tell me,” he said, sitting up and taking your hands in his. His gentleness never failed to surprise you. The man had killed so many for his son and for you, had fought his way through hell and back just to help retake his people’s home, had experienced so much hurt and pain. But despite it all, he sat in front of you stripped of his armor, defenseless and trusting you not to hurt him.

You turned your head to stare at the flats stretching into the dark. Your eyes glanced up at the stars to avoid his helmet before dropping to the cement beneath your shifting feet. Taking a deep breath to center yourself, you turned your head and focused back on the visor and how the beskar was gently lit by the two warm yellow porch lights. You absentmindedly stroked your bandage and sighed.

“I love you, Din.” Your heart was drumming in your chest and shaking your skin.

He was silent. Off in the distance, something chirped, and you heard yourself swallow. You weren’t sure if you preferred silence, or his modulated voice, even if it was a rejection. The doubts that lay dormant within your chest rose with a snarl and twisted under your ribs. Each second that passed in silence let them sink their claws into you a little bit more each time.

Finally, he softly whispered your name and squeezed your hands. Din rose to his feet and gently pulled you closer. You could smell him—sandalwood, musk, leather. Intoxicating and alluring, just as it had been from the beginning. You wanted so badly to taste him, too—to feel his lips on yours and melt into him.

“I love you too,” he murmured. Din cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked it with his thumb.

You sighed in relief and chuckled, dropping his hand to rest yours on his chest, tugging on the fabric of his flight suit. Din wrapped his arms around you and held you close in his embrace, a large hand cupping the back of your head. You sank into his warmth and let yourself go limp with love, feeling your mind calm for the first time in a long time.

“I was really hoping you’d say that,” you mumbled into his chest.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” he asked, his words vibrating underneath you.

You shook your head. “I thought you wouldn’t want…” You trailed off and hummed.

“Wouldn’t want what? Wouldn’t want you?”

When you nodded against him, he dropped his arms and gripped yours, his warm palms burning through the fabric of your sleeves. Din took a step back and shook his head.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, cyar’ika.”

You felt your eyes start to water. “Really?”

He nodded and ran his hands along the curve of your shoulders to your neck. Broad thumbs stroked the underside of your jaw. Your chest expanded with something warm and bright, the Force flowing through you with an unusual calmness. Your doubts had fled into the night, replaced with that glowing love and calm that only something truly wonderful can create. It felt as if you were meditating and at one with everything around you. You wouldn’t want to feel this way with anyone else.

“I adore you.” Din stated. “You’re one of the most fearless and honorable people I know. You’re selfless to a fault, always putting others first.” He chuckled. “I think the burn is proof of that.”

You smiled. “I’d have to agree.”

He nodded. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika.”

“I think you are too, Din.”

“You’ve never even seen me.”

You shrugged. “Don’t have to. I just know you are.”

“Would you—” Din cleared his throat. “Would you want to see me?”

“Din, no, your Creed—”

“I can remove it—” he said, cutting you off— “when I find the person I want to marry.”

You felt as if he’d stolen the air from your lungs, everything leaving your body with a sudden, stunned exhale. You’d been at his side throughout this journey with him and only stayed behind a few times, one of which being his redemption in the living waters. He hadn’t told you much about that moment, but you didn’t need all the details to know how much it meant to him. You could practically see him beaming under his beskar when the covert accepted him again. Hearing him offer to remove his helmet just so you could see him filled you with love, but fear as well.

He caught on to your hesitancy and nerves. “Are you afraid I’m ugly?”

“No, I just—I…” You stopped and sighed, your chest deflating. “I don’t want to be the reason you become an apostate again.”

“No, cyar’ika, no.” He placed one of his hands on your waist. “Mandalorians can remove their helmets for the person they want to marry.”

Your eyes widened. “You want…to marry me?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”

He was right. When he spoke, there was rarely uncertainty in his words. Din was unwavering and steadfast, rigid and surefooted.

“And that’s one of the things I love about you.” You gave him an affectionate smile. “But, you’re sure?” Din nodded; you raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely certain?” Another nod. “Entirely, fully—”

Din drawled your name and laughed, dropping his hands to his sides. “There’s nobody else I want to spend forever with.”

“Not your son?” He groaned and you patted his chest, letting your hand linger over his heart. “Just teasing you, my love.”

Din placed his hands over yours and asked, “You’re sure you want to be with me? That you want to see me?”

“Absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, skin warm under your lips.

All he did was nod and bring his hands to the side of his helmet. You watched him turn away to take it off, a soft hiss before he removed it and revealed tousled brown curls to you. His hair was short and messy, and you already adored him. Din set his helmet on the chair, and you heard him take a deep breath before facing you again. Your breath hitched in your throat when you laid your eyes upon him for the first time.

Maker, he was ethereal.

Even with the dim light, you could see a hint of a flush across his cheeks. His brow had a few lines showing his age and the stress of his profession. A mustache lay above his plush, pink lips. It was nearly impossible to resist smothering them with yours the longer you stared at him. Patchy brown scruff crept up from his soft jawline; you tilted your head and saw a small patch of gray near his jaw on the left side. You made a mental note to kiss that spot often. His curved nose split his face almost perfectly in two, accenting it perfectly. It was hard to make out the color of his eyes, so you took a step forward and squinted, placing your hands on his cheeks. Din inhaled sharply at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening and gazing into yours again. Finally, you were able to make out the color—a warm chestnut brown.

“Din,” you breathed. “You’re beautiful.”

He placed a hand over one of your wrists, the other on your cheek. Seeing him softly smile made your heart soar and touch the stars above. He leaned in and your heart started to race as those warm eyes got closer to yours, his lips now close enough that you could lean forward and close the gap. Electricity ran up your spine when he whispered your name; you could feel his breath push against your mouth, tempting you to give in. Your bones felt like they were vibrating; whether it was from nerves or your unconscious disturbance in the Force, you weren’t sure.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to finally see you without the visor.” His low voice was even sweeter without the vocoder’s slight modulations. His thumb stroked back and forth over your skin, leaving you breathless.

“I’ve never been happier than I am now,” you confessed.

Din nodded, his eyes half closed and flitting between yours and your lips. “Me too, cyar’ika. I love you.”

You choked back a happy sob with a chuckle and a soft smile. “I love you too, Din,” you panted.

Din stole his name from your mouth as his lips crashed into yours. The fingers on your cheek gently pressed into your skin as if he was afraid of you slipping away into the night. His grip on your wrist loosened and he grabbed your waist, pulling you even closer to him. Yours fell to his neck, trailing down to his chest, nails scratching against the fabric hiding his skin from your greedy touch. Din pulled back only an inch and you both panted, catching your breath. His hand moved to the back of your head and his fingers rubbed slow circles into your scalp.

“I’ll never get enough of you.”

You shook your head and gave him a quick kiss. “I want to get married tomorrow.”

Din pressed another breathless kiss to your lips. “Tomorrow?”

You nodded and stroked his jaw with your right hand’s knuckles, lavishing in how he nearly whimpered at the feeling of your skin on his. You knew that you’d never be able to see or touch his handsome face enough. It was a sight you wanted to see forever. His smile lit you up from the inside out, sent shockwaves throughout your body. He calmed you even more without his helmet.

“Yeah,” you smiled against his lips. “I can’t wait any longer.”

His laugh was warm and lighter than you’d ever heard it before. “You’ve always been impatient.”

“Oh, you love it, Din Djarin.”

Din nodded. “I do,” he rasped against your mouth, quiet pants mixing with yours.

His lips melted into yours once again, making your brain buzz with ecstasy. If this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up.

He woke up the next morning in bed with them at his side. He rolled over to face them, propping himself up on his elbow, resting his head on the heel of his hand. They lay on their right side, lips slightly parted and a little speck of drool on the corner of them. The morning light cast a natural spotlight on them and made Din’s heart burn even more for his soon-to-be riduur—his spouse, his partner for life. He felt himself smile as their eyes slowly opened, squinting and then focusing on him. They beamed at Din, filling the room with their radiance.

“Hello, handsome,” they said with a hoarse voice. Din hummed when their fingers graced over his cheek, nails gently grazing his stubble. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, cyar’ika.”

“I forgot to ask,” they yawned. “What does that word mean?”

“Cyar’ika?” They nodded, and Din continued, “It means darling. Sweetheart.”

They gave him a sleepy smile. “I like that. Maybe I’ll start using it.”

Din pinched their chin and shook his head. “No. That word is yours.”

“I’m not a Mandalorian, goofy.”

“But soon you’ll be married to one.” Din laughed when they rolled their eyes and groaned dramatically. “It’s yours. It always has been.”

They gave Din a soft smile, then rolled onto their back and reached out for the holopad on the bedside table. Din watched them push themselves up and lean back against the headboard with a few tired huffs. He pushed himself up and scooted closer, pressing his leg against theirs, feeling their warm skin against his. They were talking, but Din was too focused on their beauty that he missed everything.

“Din?” they said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get all of that?”

“No,” he grabbed their jaw and pulled them in for a kiss. “I was too busy staring at you.”

He loved the way they looked when they were flustered—face-splitting smile, nose crinkled, and the corners of their eyes creased.

“That’s very sweet, my love. But this time, I need you to listen.” They cleared their throat. “Bo is coming over in an hour to go with me into town. Karga is coming over a little bit after that to get you and Grogu. The Armorer said the late evening—right at dusk—is when we’ll have the ceremony, and she told you to meet her there an hour beforehand.”

“Dusk?” Din’s eyebrows knitted together. “She didn’t give a time?”

They shook their head and held out the pad. Din took it and they got up, swallowing and feeling his ears heat up when he saw that they were still naked. Last night had been incredible to say the least. He wasn’t upset that they hadn’t hidden their stunning body under fabric before falling asleep on his chest, one of their hands resting on it, and the other loosely clutching his bicep. Stroking their head as they drifted off to sleep had been one of the most peaceful experiences of Din’s life. If this was going to be the rest of his life, then he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

Din was reminded of that at dusk under a purple sky when they stood in front of him again, staring at him and into his eyes despite the visor. It hurt to see them with a barrier again, but the Armorer assured him they’d have a hidden moment alone together after the ceremony. He could feel the joy radiating off them, enveloping him in a safe embrace that only they could ever give him. Grogu made a small noise, and he looked down at his son, one of his tiny claws touching his calf. After this, they’d be a clan of three, and Din could be free to show his face in his home—their clan’s home—with his riduur and their little green ad’ika.

Din had never been happier in his entire life.

The ceremony flashed by—Mandalorians were known for their prowess in battle, not lengthy displays of love—and soon Din was holding hands with his riduur. Grogu sat on a rock within arm’s reach, focused on levitating a few random pebbles on the ground. His helmet sat next to his son; Din looked into his spouse’s eyes, unmasked. It was heavenly. Their clan was standing behind a piece of stone jutting out of the ground, wide enough and tall enough to hide them from view. A couple Mandalorians stood watch a few meters away on the other side, making sure they were safe from being seen.

“You look beautiful,” Din said, stroking their cheek with his fingers.

“So do you,” they replied. “The beskar is extra shiny. I like it.”

“Good. Worked my ass off polishing it.�� Din gave them a quick kiss, swallowing their laugh at his comment. His right hand was resting at the base of their skull, the other holding their left hand. “You deserve nothing but the best.”

“So do you, Din,” they breathed, pulling him towards them with hungry eyes.

Din groaned when they kissed him with passion, burning him from within. They turned him to ash and brought him back to life all in the same breath. All he needed was their love, and he’d live forever. As their lips meshed together, he let go of their hand and placed it on the small of their back, making sure this was real—that they really were warm under his palm, that their lips were soft and delicious, that they were really his.

Din pulled back and stared into their eyes, giving them a kiss on the forehead, then the cheek. He heard one of the watchers call out for them to return soon, and he gave his riduur a wide grin; his cheeks were beginning to hurt from how much he’d been smiling.

“Well,” they sighed, pushing away to reach over and grab his helmet, “time to go.”

Din looked at his son. “Grogu.” He smiled when the child looked up at him with his large eyes. “You ready?”

“Patu,” the child cooed, reaching his little claws up.

Din lifted him up and set him on the ground, indulging his request. He knew that Grogu was more than capable of jumping to the ground and landing without injury, but his son seemed to love his touch and affection almost as much as he loved eating. Din was always happy to spoil his ad’ika no matter what the request was, and so was his riduur.

He looked back up at his stunning riduur and took the helmet from them. Din gave them one last kiss, letting their hand trail down his cheek to his jaw, then down his neck as he slowly replaced his helmet. Their hand landed on his chest plate, resting over his heart. That was where they lived within him; something deep and vital and full of love and life. Losing them would destroy him. He vowed to always protect them, to fight for them with every ounce of his being. Din looked at them again, gently resting his hand on their neck and smiling at the way they looked at him, their eyes full of love and hope.

“Come on, my love,” they said with a grin that could light up the darkest cave. “Let’s celebrate.”

Din nodded and said their name, loving the way they looked at him when it rolled off his tongue and into the air. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They took his hands and met his helmet’s gentle tilt forward with their forehead for a Keldabe kiss. Din had a feeling it would be the first of many that night. They stepped back and started to pull him with them, Grogu keeping pace with his slow, resigned steps.

Shereshoy. That was what he’d been feeling ever since last night—maybe even before then, maybe when he’d first met them. They gave him the strength to go on, motivated him to be as fearless as them, made him let go of his fears and let himself fall in love. As they walked into the light of the party to a symphony of cheers and clangs of beskar vambraces on chest plates, Din grinned. He was right where he belonged. Din was burning with a newfound lust for life and determination to keep his clan safe and forever loved. He never wanted the fire within him to go out.

Mando'a Translations: ad'ika [ah-DEE-kah]: little one, son, daughter of any age cyar'ika [shar-EE-kah]: darling, sweetheart riduur [REE-door]: partner, spouse, husband, wife shereshoy [sheh-REYSH-oy]: lust for life and much more - uniquely Mandalorian word, meaning the enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as surviving to see the next day - hanging onto life and relishing it..

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

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So Darkness I Became

1200 words for 1200 followers #7

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! The idea for this one jumped up and bit me on the nose almost immediately, and I know it’s a little out there, but I hope you still enjoy it! This takes place in the time before Din rejoins the covert, when he’s still just going from bounty to bounty to pass the time without Grogu and trying to figure out what the heck to do with the damn Darksaber. I have two more requests for Din for this event, and right now I *think* one of them might be a follow up to this... but we’ll see. 💚

Warnings: not much, honestly. mild angst and canon-typical danger.

Requested By: @prolix-yuy Song: Cosmic Love Character Choice: LJ gave me the options of Din or Ezra, correctly asserting that this song is perfect for both of the space boys - and to my surprise, being an Ezra girl, I decided to go with Dinjamin. Thank you for sending this one in, darling! I hope you enjoy where I took it!

Summary: You and Din have been working together for a while now, but there are still more things that you don’t know about each other than you do. That doesn’t stop you from feeling how you feel, though. When Din follows a lead that he hopes will yield information on the Darksaber’s previous owners, you find out if those feelings are enough to make you risk everything to help him.

“Stay with the ship.”

Those were his last words to you before disappearing through the door. The hefty metal plate slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the empty hull and resonating through your bones. Watching him go felt wrong - cold and final. Though you tried, you couldn’t stave off the thought that he wouldn’t return.

No. You swallowed hard. He will. He always does.

The two of you had been working together for a year. It had been a partnership of desperation at first - you out of ammo and on the run from the brothers of some Klatooinian capo you’d turned in, and Din armed to the teeth but without a ride off-world. He’d helped you dispatch the brothers, and you’d taken him where he needed to go, and then you had meant to part ways. But before you could refuel, he had shown back up at the spaceport with a handful of bounty pucks and the proposition of teaming up and splitting the profits on them.

It was only supposed to be until he saved up enough for his own ship. But that mark had come and gone and you were still a team of two, and though neither of you had opened up, neither of you seemed eager to suggest that you split up, the unspoken threat of loneliness enough to keep you tethered.

Even when the types of jobs you took became more personal than profitable, like the one that you were currently on. On Dathomir.

The name alone was enough to chill you. You had never set foot there, and you never intended to. Dathomir was dangerous, its landscape as unforgiving as the creatures that inhabited it. But its history of malevolence left the planet scarred in ways that terrified you. You’d heard rumors of a vergence there, a well of Dark side energy that was powerful enough to corrupt anyone who fell prey to it, especially those who were in tune with the Force.

Like me.

You shuddered, recalling what you’d said to convince him not to chase whatever knowledge he sought, careful not to reveal your secret. “Dathomir’s a one-way ticket, Djarin. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die in a bog.”

You’d always hidden your abilities, knowing that it was your best chance at survival - and that meant that despite spending the last year with him, Din didn’t know. You weren’t sure how he would react to learning that you were Force-sensitive, but if it meant losing him you weren’t willing to risk it. Just like you weren’t sure how he’d react to learning that you had started to develop feelings for him. You kept those to yourself, too.

He’d answered with a tilt of his helmet. “I won’t ask you to follow me. But if there’s something I can learn there about this?” He gestured to the hilt at his waist. “I have to go. This is the Way.”

You knew as soon as he used that phrase there was no changing his mind. All you could hope for was an urgent call to pull him away before you reached the Quelli sector. It never came.

So you waited, eyes glued to the monitor that tracked his location. You held your breath as you watched the little throb of light descend into a cave. That same cold feeling you had when he left slithered through every fiber of your being as the beacon on the screen blinked - and then blacked out.

Your heart lurched. With shaking hands you smacked the monitor, hoping it was a glitch, but the beacon was gone. No!

You were half-way down the ladder before the comm link on your wrist crackled, his voice coming through speaking your name. “You – right. – shouldn’t have – here. You – – go!“

“Din!” Your pulse smashed against your eardrums as you responded. “ I’m not leaving you. I’m…” You choked on tears you didn’t know were falling. “I’m coming.”

“No.” More interference bled through the speaker. Beneath it you could hear him groan in pain. “You – “ He let out another distressed sound. “Go!”

And then the comm cut out, too.

In that instant, you made the choice that you realized never was one. Nothing could keep you from going after him, not even your fear of the Dark side. You didn’t even stop to arm yourself, bypassing the weapons locker and heading straight for the door, leaping from the ship. Without turning back, you raised your right hand across your body and over your shoulder, swiveling your wrist so that your palm faced the sky, and then clenching your fist and bringing it back down, the door of the ship slamming shut.

Without the beacon or the comms you would have to focus to find him. You silenced your thoughts as you ran, concentrating on Din - on the way his solid presence felt beside you, on the way you could feel his heartbeat when you reached across the cockpit with the Force. You followed your instincts until you were at the mouth of the cave he had disappeared into, and then it wasn’t just a feeling.

You could hear his heart beating in the dark.

It was slow and weak, but the rhythm was unmistakably his. You pushed further into the cave until the air was thick and you couldn’t see beyond your nose. The relief you felt was fleeting, though, as suddenly the space was lit with an eerie green light… reflecting off Beskar armor.

At the far end of the cave, near what appeared to be an altar, you saw him slumped against the stone, glowing green tendrils coiled around his chest.

“He is ours.” A disembodied voice hissed.

“He has brought it back to us. The Darksaber.”

“And now he is our soldier.”

To your horror, the visor on Din’s helmet glowed the same green as he hovered to his feet, and you knew there was only one thing you could do to save him - the thing you feared the most. But you didn’t hesitate. Reaching far beyond your limits, you tapped into the Darkness, harnessing it instead of pushing it away.

“No.” You growled, slowly shaking your head and reaching out with your right hand. Curling your fingers and twisting your wrist in the air, you ripped the hilt of the obsidian blade from Din’s belt. “You will not use him. You will not take him.” The sword flew to your grasp and you ignited it instantly. “You will release him, or I will destroy this cave and you along with it.”

It felt like crumbling, letting that much power flow through you. But you fought it, focusing on the faint sound of his heartbeat. The voices shrieked and wailed, retreating into the Darkness. Just as you thought you would break, Din was released from his trance.

As soon as he was free you dropped to your knees, panting and dizzy, but before you lost consciousness you felt his gloved hands land on your shoulders. At his touch you felt a wave of calm wash over you, your name the last thing you heard before you fell into his arms.

Safe. We’re safe now, Din.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @valkblue @fific7 @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @WildMoonFlower @mswarriorbabe80 @hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @spishsstuff @noisynightmarepoetry

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skellymom · 3 months

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"SLIDE"

The Bad Batch Fan Fic x Non Gendered Reader

(My first ever TBB Fan Fic posted 7/31/23. Unfortunately, I didn't realize at the time putting the MATURE label on the bottom of the post would make Tumblr hide it's presence)

Background: Force Sensitive learns to grow their Force powers. This timeline is several months after leaving Crosshair on Kamino, near the end of working for Cid. The Batch is trying to figure a hook to be independent and possibly start actively rebelling against the Empire. This is set well before Mt Tantiss.

Warnings: Canon and non-canon violence, swearing, momentary and possibly gruesome death of main characters (no worries, they don’t stay dead forever), Crosshair is an angry psychopathic killer with a vengeance (no hate, I love his problematic ass), mild Hunter fluff, touchy concerned Tech, Echo swears (of course).

Word count: 2.1 K

You hadn’t expected to be separated from the rest of the Batch, however, Omega had other ideas “to help” on this mission. The Batch infiltrated this Imperial base for intel and possible chain codes to steal. You volunteered to run after and bring her back. Spotted by Imperial stormtroopers in a corridor, you and Omega try to lose them, but they are hot on your tail. Omega hears the Batch’s voices down a hallway and runs to them.

You and Omega skid to a halt at the edge of a missing bridge while the rest of the Batchers are on the other side. The precipice between is a several hundred story drop within the Imperial base. The group of stormtroopers rocked up behind you, guns lowered. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker looked on impotently across the chasm, weapons trained on the stormtroopers. The Batch are poised, holding fire, trying to avoid any possibility of you and Omega getting caught in any crossfire.

Unfortunately, you had not finished training with your Master. Your Master did not survive Order 66. You were SO CLOSE to obtaining Jedi status. Now it was up to YOU to save yourself and Omega. Being captured was not an option at this point. Although, allowing the Empire to take you and Omega might allow time for the Batch to retreat safely to fight later. That carried serious risks. You were very limited in options as far as your Force abilities. Master had not given you a light saber, remarking that the Force had a different path for you.

The lead stormtrooper immediately grabbed you as a human shield, just as Wrecker let loose a shot from his blaster. He intended to shoot the stormtrooper but hit you in the chest. You slipped out of the stormtroopers grasp and off the edge of the bridge. You met Omega’s eyes as she called your name, while being dragged away by the same trooper. As your body went into free fall down the chasm, you could hear your Batchmates scream, curse, and start blasting away.

As consciousness slips from your body, you close your eyes. The sense of falling disappears, but you expected that by eventually reaching terminal velocity from this height. You open your eyes and are standing on an outstretched infinite path within an ever-expanding universe. Before you is a HUGE hulking creature with glowing eyes.

“What’s happening? Where am I?” You are simultaneously shocked, afraid, and unsure if this is all a dream.

The creature stares down, sizing you up.

“ In The World Between Worlds.”

“Am I dead???”

“No. It is not yet your time. You are here to finish your training.”

“My friends need my help! I need to get back to them!!!”

“You will return to help them; it is part of your training.”

“Who are you?”

“That matters not. Only your path is of importance. You cannot progress until your training is finished. The lives within your care hang in the balance. You and your group are linked together in that realm. Your failure will be their failure…until you succeed. Then you will be released from this realm to continue your path.”

It feels like the creature is staring into your soul, “The point of entry is behind you.”

You turn around to see…a doorway? A dark threshold surrounded by cryptic symbols, suspended among stars.

“Are you ready?”

“No! I…”

“Begin!”

Your vision becomes a blur as you leave that place and return to where you were standing before falling off the platform. The vertigo messes with your senses, and it all feels like you had a momentary hallucination. Now back in this moment, you quickly spring into action.

You yell “NO WRECKER” immediately and Wrecker stops in his tracks. Hunter is sensing something, but unsure what it is. The Stormtrooper grabs you as a shield. A second trooper grabs Omega and drags her away. Omega starts using swears that only Echo could come up with as she is taken. The Batch stand with blasters trained on the stormtroopers in defense but not wanting to hit you in the crossfire. The trooper violently puts a foot in your ass and kicks you off the platform, then commences to start firing on the Batch. You free fall down the chasm and…

…pass The World Between Worlds for a split second, and then appear back onto the platform.

You try again.

Omega is led away swearing up a storm while the stormtrooper is holding onto you. Hunter calls to you, and in that moment, you sense the concern and love in his heart. You also sense a dark presence in the Force, look up to the platform above and see Crosshair with his Firepuncher trained on you. He was watching this exchange the whole time, waiting for the opportunity to shoot. In his jealousy and anger, he fires, hitting you dead center between the eyes. The very last thing you see is Cross grinning as he hears Hunter lose his shit.

The fabric of the connected realms brushes past you.

Again.

You yank the stormtrooper into Crosshairs blaster bolt as his body is hit, he stumbles into Omega and both fall off the platform to their impending deaths. The stormtrooper behind him, seeing the target they were looking to take is now gone, opens fire on you. You fall off the platform.

Again.

Before the trooper can grab you, you grab Omega and jump off the platform into the chasm. With any luck, you can use the force to stop yourselves before hitting bottom. Unfortunately, you and Omega’s fall velocity was too much for your Force abilities.

Again.

You grab Omega but try to save only her. As you fall past hundreds of platforms, you try to yeet her onto one as you fall. You are falling too fast, and your throw was severely off. You hear a sickening thud as she hits something.

Again.

You attempt to Force jump, and only make it just short of the other side. You yeet Omega across the chasm towards the Batch, Hunter jumps for her from the other side, and she slips from his grasp. You hear them both scream above you as you fall. Fortunately, Tech and Wrecker send out their grappling cables and catch both. Blaster fire starts from the stormtroopers. Tech is hit, falls off the platform, and takes Omega with him since she is attached to his cable.

Again.

You Force jump again, Hunter jumps but misses Omega. Knowing Wrecker will catch Hunter with his grappling hook, you send out a Force block in front of Tech. He is shielded from blaster fire, but Wrecker is hit by several bolts. He falls off the platform taking Hunter with him. You hear Wrecker’s insanely terrified scream as you all fall. Hunter sends out his grappling cable and it catches. His fall is stopped, but Wrecker’s weight wrenches Hunters body horribly. He screams out in agony as he feels muscles tear. They are hanging and safe momentarily…or so it seems. A shot is heard from Firepuncher and Hunters cable is severed. Both Batchers scream as they fall.

You try to hold onto the edges of the realm as you pass through, but it evades your grasp.

Again.

You grab the lead stormtroopers gun while he is still holding onto it and keep pushing his finger onto the trigger, you shoot him and several other imps. You fire several shots towards Crosshair, preventing him from shooting at you. However, one hotshot trooper in the back squeezes off and hits you right in the back fatally.

Again.

Same scenario, but you spin the trooper around and use him as a human shield and the hotshot misses you. However, Crosshair blasts you at the base of your skull. The last thing you see is Omega’s terrified expression as you fall onto the platform next to your teeth his shot loosened in the blast.

AGAIN?

You are getting sick of playing this fucked up reset game already. In your anger, you quickly grab the stormtrooper and throw his ass off the platform. The Batch and Omega watch shocked at your anger. The other stormtroopers are taken by surprise, as you advance on them and grab another. Crosshair is attempting to aim, but you are moving too much. The hotshot trooper aims his weapon. You and the trooper in your grasp struggle violently. The hotshot cannot get a good clear shot. Finally, he squeezes one off and misses you. However, he didn’t consider where Omega is standing, and she takes a direct hit. You hear your Batchmates scream in outrage. You scream in outrage. The hotshot screams in frustration, then double taps you and the trooper in your grasp in the head simultaneously.

AGAIN??

You grab the stormtroopers gun while still in his hand and shoot yourself in the head. You just want this exhausting mess to be over.

AGAIN???

You fall onto the platform in a crumpled pile crying. Stormtroopers AND Crosshair shoot you at the same time, resulting in a horrible, charred mess.

AGAIN???

You scream bloody murder and obscenities at Crosshair. He shoots you between the eyes.

AGAIN!

You jump off the edge of the platform screaming obscenities like a crazy person.

Before reset, you see the expression on the creatures face. He looks disappointed and replies, “You aren’t even trying. Reach out beyond the boundaries of your realm” As you angrily try to spout off to him, you are thrown violently into the next reset.

AGAIN!!!

Standing on the platform, you take a deep breath and survey the scene. You mull over the creatures words. Time seems to slow down: You sense the stormtroopers behind you, looking into each of eyes of the Batch; Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, up to Crosshair, finally resting on Omega. You mouth, “Trust me” to her and she nods.

Time suddenly slams into overdrive, and you instantly pivot to bearhug Omega. The trooper misses your shoulder and grabs open air. The shot from Crosshair’s Firepuncher, originally meant for you, hits the trooper right between the eyes and he falls off the platform. You reach deep within the Force, grab the thin tether of this realm and open it wide. You then realize you were only meant to grasp it at the start of your actions, not at the end. You “push” through with the Force, taking Omega with you. As you “slide” from one location to another, you pass the creature. He nods as you pass from the world you left only a millisecond ago, through the timeless World Between Worlds.

“Congratulations, Jedi! Your training is complete.”

You part the curtain to your world again, entering behind the Batch. Hunter, before his eyes even register your disappearance on the opposite platform, senses a presence behind them. His head whips around to see you and Omega are now out of harm’s way. His jaw drops inside his helmet. Tech, seeing Hunters reaction, immediately spins around, his eyes are visibly dumbfounded “What? How?” Wrecker calmly looks behind him, seeing you and Omega there safely, doesn’t question. He barks, “MUAHAHAHA! YEAH!!!” and opens fire on all the befuddled stormtroopers standing on the opposite platform.

With Wreckers cover fire, Hunter grabs Omega and runs down the hallway while yelling, “Let’s go!” Tech runs past and grabs your hand. He’s usually not touchy feely, but somewhere deep in his logical brain he understands that whatever happened saved your and Omega’s life. All the quick calculations he was running in his brain logically ended in you both dying. Wrecker is happily hopped up on blaster fire and the relief you are both safe. He follows running behind.

Crosshair is left on his sniper’s roost. He hasn’t EVER missed a target. This was his first time. You were there one second and gone next to his surprise. Stares down at all the dead troopers laying on the platform below, gnawing hard on his toothpick. He’s angry…but intrigued. Maybe instead of killing you outright next time, he can land a stunning blow. The Empire might be VERY interested if he brought you in alive. Cross sprints away down a shortcut.

Your group reaches the end of the hallway and bursts out into the ship hangar bay. A large battalion of stormtroopers meet you there, with guns aimed. You all stop, out of breath, and possibly out of luck. Echo swoops in with the Marauder hovering and laying down suppressive cannon fire. Unfortunately, there are too many imps for him to dispatch while also landing successfully. Hunter and Tech are furiously looking for a way out.

You reach out with the Force and envelope Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Omega. Before opening the fabric of this realm, you feel eyes on you. Looking to a ledge several stories up, Crosshair meets your gaze. You both stare intensely into each other. Without even realizing it, you reach out and speak with the Force:

“Why???”

“Because…” Slight shock registering on Crosshair’s face “…I can.”

“You’ll regret this someday…when you’re all alone.”

“I already am.” He’s angry and hurt. There is nothing more you can say.

You slide through, taking all the Batchers with you and suddenly appearing within the Marauder.

Wrecker: “WHOA!”

Tech: Speechless, wide eyed…and STILL holding your hand.

Omega: Dizzy and winded.

Hunter: Rips helmet off his head. His expression is wild eyed and looks like he saw some serious shit. “What was that place? Who was that creature?”

Echo: Spins around in the pilot’s chair, eyes wide “WHAT THE FUCK!!!”

You grin. And watch the Batch trying to piece together their sudden location movement and glimpse of the creature between worlds.

Giving the order to Echo you bark, “Let’s go, soldier!”

He’s still sitting there with a shocked expression, then laser blasts pepper the ship, and he regains composure. Echo flies the Marauder out of the Imperial facility, off the planet, scrambles the ships jump signature, and punches it into hyperspace.

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penvisions · 4 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 20}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The push and pull of memories and power emulate the waves you watch from your balcony as you seek more and more solitary time with the wedding looming closer.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, angst, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, din pov and reader pov, lemme know if i missed any other big ones!

A/N: this marks the middle of the maldovan arc! we've got two / three more chapters before we delve into season two events with our dear tin man. my feelings have been all over the place but hopefully i channeled them well into this chapter for y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

Din was used to situations dissolving quickly from what he thought they would be, shifting into quick successions of movements and scenarios his instincts allowed him to maneuver with ease.

But the sight of you covered in nothing but bubbles from a foaming wash, bent over the side of the large communal bath had been something he wasn’t prepared for. Especially since the last time he had been intimate with you had turned out disastrously. His own emotions and devotion to something that wasn’t you tainting the moment and turning it from heated excitement to sour devastation.

The bubbles only reminded him further of the time before that, when you had been propped over his lap, both of you bare and exploring each other’s supple and scarred skin for the first time in the dim candlelight of a bath. It had been…thrilling to see the way your eyes had been overtaken by the pleasure he pulled from you, the sounds you had made…Maker, it had been such a good moment and he wishes you felt that same comfortability around him again. He knows you must to an extent, because he doesn’t see you exchange words beyond pleasantries with anyone around the palace but him.

But even so, with your memory restored he was fully aware that you might not want to be with him in that way ever again. He would have you as you wanted him to, even if it was in no ways at all. His want for you to be comfortable, to be your own person far exceeding his own desires. He only wished you were to stay beside him, his protectiveness over you never waning and increasing as the days continued on, the same he was beginning to feel over the child. You were all three bonded.

And then the sudden appearance of your fiancé, the man who got to hold you and kiss you free of worries was there in the same room as you clad in nothing but a towel with your hair weighted down and damp. The touches he had seen up until that point had been nothing but fleeting, the touches he had witnessed next everything but, setting his blood to boil. The harsh way he had pressed himself to you, trailed his fingers over the sensitive skin between your legs he knew the feeling of all too well, the way he had been rough with you enough for you to cry out. It had been something he was unequipped to handle. His mind had gone blank as his vision hyper focused into stark lines and too bright colors as if he had activated a sensor for his helmet with the touch of button.

The quiet way you had followed him back to your room in a flowing robe with ad’ika cradled in your arms had been another thing he hadn’t been prepared for. The version of you he knew was strong, a fighter, not one to let such things slide. Serving well deserved justice to those who picked on you and those around you, on those who deserved it. The you in front of him now? She was scared, on edge, hesitant. And he didn’t like it at all.

“Mesh’la, you don’t have to heed his command.” He hears the way his voice is strong, but it isn’t for him.

No, all of his strength is for you. A flame he tries to keep healthy and bright even as the situation is something he’s quickly realizing may be far too deep for him to help you escape from.

“I do have to, he – he’s to be my husband, he has to be happy with me. My…my mother would do something if this was to all fall apart because of me.” His heart steels, you need him. You need him now more than you ever had, even back at that compound he happened across you in the largest stroke of luck and sheer circumstance he’s ever experienced.

You had unwittingly helped him, you and the child, to realize that while he devoted his life, mind, and body to the Creed and his way of life: he also needed something for himself. He had been…lonely, if he was completely honest with himself. Leading a life chasing after credits and determined to work any job, hunt any quarry, commit himself to more and more and more in order to achieve the goal of helping to perpetrate his kind long after the world had merely watched on as they were picked off one by one, scattered among the stars in a heartbreaking way.

You had helped him to realize that in order to do so, he needed a little bit of saving himself. And he’d be damned if he didn’t try to help and return the favor now that you needed it in more blatant ways than he ever did. He wanted to return the favor, he wanted you back in his arms, aboard his ship, laughing and sharing bits of food across a table that wasn’t a table. You had been blossoming into someone he felt intense emotion for, love for, someone he yearned to be back by his side and in his bed, whispered words of affirmation and the same love back to him beneath the sheets and in the darkness of his personal quarters. He missed you even with you standing a few feet away from him. Because the person standing before him certainly missed him, even if you didn’t realize it.

“Then leave.”

“Maker, I can’t do that. I don’t even know who I am.” The look you give him is so unlike any other he’s ever seen and it clatters inside his ribs, the urge to move forward and embrace you. But it would be a line crossed, to do so.

“But I do.” He decided to use his words instead, to try and hold you up.

“You what?”

“I know you. I know who you are.”

“From before?” The hope that curls around the simple question almost pulls the truth from him, he’s unsure why he falters in voicing it.

“From…from now. I know you, mesh’la, and you deserve better than this.”

“He’s…he’ll hunt me down. I know it, in my very bones I know it.” The words seem so matter-of-fact, as if you were aware of them subconsciously. The fear and life of solitude you had led because of the very notion of people being after you something your body remembered even if your mind could not. He recalls how isolated your home in the desert had been, how hard it had been to even find the humble building. How it must’ve been a mere shadow of the life you had lived up until that point, but one you had willingly created in order to avoid further conflict and loss.

But yet, here you were standing in front of him having lost everything that made you who you were.

“I’ll protect you.”

“Aliit, you have a child. You have a wife.” And there’s the anger he’s seen flare in you before, the will to not put up with things you didn’t agree with.

“I’ve told you, I do and I do not. She…she is much like you. In a situation she can’t control.”

“Then go save her.” You make it sound so simple, so easy a feat. If only you realized…but when you repeated the words with solid frustration he felt something brim over the top of his chest.

“I’m trying to!” He lets his own frustration get the better of him and he realizes his mistake when you cower. His own flames of anger and anxiety dousing yours to nothing but shadow and smoke.

“Apologies, I…shouldn’t speak so plainly with you. You are working, probably trying to earn credits to fix your situation. I apologize.” You won’t look at him, avoiding his eyes as he tries to catch them across the room. He’s messed up again, and now his punishment is delivering you to the door of the man who is about to do whatever he wants and you’re going to let him. To appease your mother, to fall in line with what you’ve been forced to believe are your duties.

“Mesh’la,” He steps close to you, now in the doorway to the large closet. His words trail off as you turn with a blank face so reminiscent of how you used to look at him. The robe is untied by your hands and falls to the ground. He averts his eyes, not wanting to impinge on your privacy even as you expose yourself to him.

“You heard him, he commanded you to dress me yourself should I not want to. Practically gave you permission to touch me, is that why you don’t want me to go. You want me all to yourself?” Digging into one of the elaborate boxes atop a shelf you throw whatever was inside it at him. It’s all lace and thin straps, a bright baby blue that looks like the shine of starlight on his armor when he polishes it in the cockpit of the Razor Crest. It makes him sick, stomach churning at the connection.

You’re breathing heavily, shoulders shaking and eyes tinging pink as he sees the tears you’re trying to fight off shine in the whites of your eyes as he dares to look up from the floor where the garment had fallen. “All men are the same, doing whatever they want. Taking whatever they want. At least this way I get something out of it, even if…even if it feels like it’s all wrong.”

Your words trail off, the power behind them waning as you refuse to break the connected gaze from him.

“It is wrong, he’s not…he’s doesn’t love you.”

“No one loves me.”

He freezes, taken aback by the conviction in your words even as you speak so quietly, your face still schooled into an expression of no emotion.

“No one’s come to my side after my accident. It’s as if…I had no life before it, no one who was by my side. It’s why, it’s why I’ve taken what my mother says as truth, there’s no evidence to suggest otherwise. Even if it does feel wrong.”

His chest aches, his heart crumbles and settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. He’s failing. He’s completely failing at his task of saving you. He’s making it worse, and he thinks again that maybe you’d be better off without him here mucking things up if you’ve accepted this as your life. You just said so yourself that it seems to be a good set up, better than anything you even remotely recall. But…it would be a betrayal to leave you in the hands of a woman who tormented and tortured you, manipulated you to her will alongside a man who was beginning to show his true colors.

He had. He had come to your side the second he had figured out where you were. But…but maybe it was too late. Your memories warped too much for him to bring them to the light. He thought…he thought he had seen glimpses of clarity in your eyes as he and Cara fight to keep you away from the mind flayer, from the doctor who was the reason for your lack of awareness.

“You have a wife.” You whisper, as if it was the one lie you were being fed that you didn’t want to accept.

“I do and I do not.” He repeats, unable to string together any other words as he sees the way you’re trembling. He’s about to throw the whole plan of slowly getting your memory and mind strong enough to tell you the truth, to blurt it all out in the hopes that it helps you to understand, but you’ve lost the spark of your old self as quickly as it had come to life and he’s missed his moment. Again.

“You have a wife and I…I cannot have you the way- you are not mine to want.” You seem to pull yourself from your inner musings, digging through another pretty package of ribbons and silk. The matching set is a soft pink and you pull on both pieces before bending to retrieve your robe. “Please escort me to Prince Cala’s room.”

The walk to the prince’s room had felt just as damning as the one he had taken to hand ad’ika over to the Imps.

Din begins to slip more Mand’oa into his conversations with you, hoping for recognition. Hoping to right his wrongs of that fateful night in which you had laid with another man. You didn’t talk of what happened, though he doubted he would be the first you would turn to should something of that caliber occur. He doesn’t ask, knowing that in the deepest part of who he was, he wouldn’t be able to handle the knowledge of your answer should you give him one.

He was being put on patrol of the grounds every morning, his night shift of watching over your hall given to others, never the same person. Probably due to Prince Cala’s command that no one is to get too close to you. But he traded with those who were given the post, giving away what little credits he had accumulated from being ‘employed’ by the palace and anything they voiced wishing they had. Cara making the trips into the city markets to retrieve whatever it was they wanted as she was shifted to duties to prepare for the wedding that loomed closer and closer.

The whole ordeal was reminiscent of his younger days, made it feel like he was back in training or just thereafter as he worked whatever and however many jobs he could get in order to prove for the covert. Though he was significantly older in years, the issue of not getting enough sleep only seemed to upset ad’ika. The child had become increasingly fussy, lashing out in the only ways he knew how and unfortunately one of those ways was slamming doors and throwing food.

The arrival of foreign people of all species to the city and to the palace in particular signal the days of your relative freedom coming to an end. Endless discussions of hushed plans are shared between him and Cara, as they realize they don’t have the currency of time on their side any longer. If there was one thing Din wanted to prevent, as if he truly had any control over things, was the binding of your person to another.

Two weeks, they had only two weeks and the days begin to fly by with no signs your memory returning.

Until he’s suddenly sat across from you one quiet night and you speak words of Mando’a back to him.

Ner kar’ta. Your voice sounds so sweet, so cherished in its damning innocence as you look to him with confusion in your glittering eyes.

Din’s moving from his seat beside you, kneeling before you in a way he never had with another. His hands holding yours and he revels in the warmth of them in his own. He carefully asks if you know what you just said, if you realize the enormity of what just happened, what had just fallen from your lips. He fills his heart swell when you say you think it means exactly what it does.

The words he’s only whispered to you once before as he lay bleeding and struggling to breathe, are repeated lowly. No longer a desperate plea for you to leave him behind, but an affirmation to bring you back to him.

He’s sure he’s far too focused, something he knows you don’t like, direct attention, deliberate attention.

But you’re looking back at him with the same sharpness in your eyes even as they remain partially shrouded, hope filling him and making his heart quicken as he searching for anything, for everything in them so close.

But then the door to your room, to the sanctuary you had both found is suddenly opening and the woman who had caused this entire ordeal is stepping over the threshold with a raised voice full of thinly veiled distrust and aggression born of fear.

Tension fills the room, your mother in the doorway while you and Aliit remain beside the small lounge set up of chairs, small sofa, and low table. The soft atmosphere between the two of you shattered as the woman barged into your room at far too late an hour. Making you wonder how often she had done so before your sleep had become hard to maintain. What was she doing checking on you under the cover of dark, midnight skies and twinkling stars? A pinch in the crook of your elbow, the column of your neck both flare to life and you worry for the things she could’ve done to you while asleep, before Aliit had taken over the post of night guard.

The rattling of fine porcelain trills, the cups of tea on small serving saucers Aliit had prepared in quiet seeming to irritate your mother as her eyes dart from the set up to the man behind you, to you. A glare marring her beautiful but aged features. Her skin pale unlike yours, though you were seeing underneath the mask you were realizing she always had carefully in place. Hiding and covering things she didn’t want others to see, didn’t want to reveal.

“Stop doing that!” She snaps, dominant hand pointing harshly at you and your body reacts far quicker than your mind. A hand of your own raising up and waving broadly, manipulating hers to lower to her side.

“Tell me.” You demand, patience gone and emotions focused. She sees something in you, at that moment, something that causes her to take a step back and it makes you feel powerful.

“You and the Prince were on holiday. Off on some crowded planet to enjoy in each other’s company as you shop and attend a gala in honor of the news of your engagement. Someone high up in the ranks of the New Republic happy of the coupling. Some startled you as they approached to congratulate you, always so jumpy, even as a young girl. You tripped over your dress, hit your head on the corner of a table.”

“Why don’t I have a mark from the fall?”

“What planet were we on before that allowed me to get the attention of Prince Cala?”

“We were home, darling. K’ath. He was interested in the armor we sell in the wharf.”

“You don’t let me make armor anymore.”

“No, Prince Cala wishes for you to learn other skills that are fitting for royalty of this planet.”

“I don’t mind that, but I wish to reclaim the one thing I can recall from before my accident.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I said no, San! I don’t know where this is all coming from, Maker you must be so confused. So out of it you’re manifesting things that simply aren’t true. This is your life, darling, this is it. What we had before…it was not what I wanted for you. But this – this is what you deserve. A nice place to spend your days with no stress, with no worries.”

“Leave.”

“Darling-“

“I wish to rest! Both of you leave, right this instant!” The rattling of the porcelain is loud, followed by a rather startling pop as the glass of one of the windows cracks.

“Remove your mask.”

Din keeps his eyes trained on hers, reading the woman with an intensity that only seems to fuel her distrust of him. He knows he hasn’t done the best at keeping his emotions in check while scouting out the palace and trying to remain close to you, he does. It was a task he hadn’t been prepared for in the slightest, something he realizes and feels shameful of. You needed him to be able to keep his head and to go about this mission as if it was any other, you needed him to be able to act as he always does: stealthily, calculated, levelheaded, deadly focused. But he wasn’t, his heart and emotions getting the better of him in a way that could be detrimental to your well-being, to your life, to his and to ad’ikas.

His pause, the twitch of his bare fingers upsets your mother further.

“There are people, someone in particular that may come after her.” She doesn’t budge, keeping her stance in front of the man back at his post outside your door. The moonlight filtering into the lantern light hallway barely enough to see the ire and suspicion in her expression. The slight resemblance to you unnerves him, the reality of this woman being tied to you by blood and fate too heavy a thought when you were so kind and good to him. “Remove your mask, Aliit.”

He doesn’t want to. He can’t. And certainly not for someone as ingenuine as your mother. But…for all the beskar he donned and had been able to share with you, for all the weapons he had in his cache to protect you, for all the skills he had developed over a lifetime, none of it had been able to prevent you from being taken away from him. His Creed had allowed for it to happen, even if it by way of inadvertency. So perhaps…perhaps the display of his face would be the one thing that had jumpstarted this entire situation would be able to salvage it. To give him the time and chance he needed in order to stay and work on allowing out to heal enough to know the truth.

Holding his breath, Din reaches up to unclasp the pin keeping the flowing piece over his cowl. It falls to the right side of his face as braces himself to lower the cowl with steady fingers, though his mind is anything but calm.

He never wanted to show his face, let alone to someone so unfounded in their own beliefs, if the woman had any. She wasn’t deserving, but you….he had been struggling with the desire to show you. But she was premature in her gloating victory, because she waves a hand at him just as he’s beginning to pull the fabric down. He stills, worried he’s been found out but that doesn’t seem to be the case as the woman’s stern face breaks.

“Oh, good. I was worried for a second.” She smirks, knowing she had won the heated exchange, the power of her command being heeded going to her head in the worst way. “No Mandalorian would be foolish enough to throw away their very Creed for someone like San. Maker, I love her. But she’s such a fool sometimes, a little misguided. No idea how she even caught the attention of the person who was supposed to bring her back to me. Must’ve used her body, since her head seems to be empty.”

Resisting the urge to snarl and show just how deep her words cut, Din just nods at her, bowing his head slightly before resetting his coverage over the cowl. An insult to him, he could internalize and ignore. But an insult to you was stirring his instincts to protect, to shield, to kill.

“What is the meaning of this? Sending my handmaidens away and ordering guards to follow me around from now on,” Prince Cala is sat on the edge of your bed, two guards on either side of the bed. It’s early, the sun barely cresting over the horizon and the sky shifting slowly from dark to light as it does so. Alit has to still be on the other side of the door where your mother had ordered him to remain for the rest of his shift, overriding the royal man’s direct orders.

“My dear San, I’ve sent your handmaidens to tend to things for the wedding. The ceremony will be in a week’s time.” He curls a hand around your wrist, bringing it up to kiss along your knuckles and down the inside of your arm. His lips are soft, but his touch feels wrong, it feels charged: changed. “You’re mine.”

He’s suddenly hovering over you, knees on either side of your waist and pinning you beneath the covers as he brings his face close to yours. His handsome features twisted into a smirk that made your insides lurch. His hands bring your own above your head, pressing them into the plush pillows and gripping far too tightly. Trying to squirm is useless as he lets all of his weight press into you, pushing the breath from your lungs and cutting off the shout you were about to make.

“That guard of yours is to be sent to patrol the city streets, he’s not to come near you again.” He repeats his possession of you, his lips beginning to trail hard kisses down your neck. His breath is hot and sticky against your skin and you try to close your eyes tights in an effort to make the moment go by quicker.

One of his hands trails down your body, boldly giving your chest a squeeze over the thin covers before it’s gone from you completely. But you don’t get to revel in the touch of him gone because there’s a metallic clink you hear the clicking of a syringe just moments before it’s plunged into your still trapped arm.

“No.” You can’t help the venom and distrust that seeps into your voice, the feeling of being trapped, of being herded consumes you and it’s ugly how it sticks uncomfortably to your insides. You had already partook in countless meals and cups of tea, strolls through the gardens and around the different buildings and halls of the palace. All in the name of entertainment for the guests you didn’t want to interact with. The feeling of being on display, of being paraded around annoying you beyond anything else had since you had woken up in that infirmary bed.

You didn’t like the attention, how direct it was. How people fawned over the tone of your skin in comparison to theirs, how they felt entitled to reach out and caress your skin or face when complimenting you or the dresses you wore.

Head pounding, you feel energy flow through you, something so foreign yet familiar. The same energy that had filled you back when you had confronted your mother a few nights ago. The very same that clattered porcelain and shattered glass though you hadn’t even been looking at either of those things, they were merely in the same expansive room as you. You had tried to focus, in the quiet solitary of that same room, your room, the only place you were truly left alone for only the hours of the night as Aliit dutifully looked over you from just inside the doorway.

His eyes watched you without giving you impression he was doing so with purpose as you tried and succeeded in harnessing it to move random objects around the room. It was…a powerful feeling to wield such a power.

It fills you now, as your mother turns to face you and you clench your fists at your sides to quiet the thought of using it against her. Something in your mind warning of you letting her know that you are conscious of it now, her reaction to seeing you unintentionally wield it telling you it was better kept a secret.

“Excuse me?” Your mother demands from where she has begun to lead you from within your quarters, she’s quick as she grabs at you, your hands twitching with the urge to push her away the second her fingers are curling around you.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” You flinch away from her, her touch far too tight around your wrists. It was as if you were shocked, your body recalling memories you couldn’t consciously do so and you feel the weight of metal heavy around your wrists in her hands around you, around your ankles and neck. Pulling you down, zapping you of any wherewithal for the body you inhabited. You close your eyes against the feeling, mind conjuring up the darkness of a room that feels far too familiar, that is filled faintly with the scent of salted air and willows native to your home world. “I wish to be alone in the week before I’m to be someone else’s.”

Breathing deep, the feeling of the air around you shifts to that of an arid land. Dry, bone-shattering heat suffocates you, your body too exhausted and dehydrated to even produce sweat. The cotton feel of your tongue thickens in your mouth as your head swims with the influence of narcotics and sedatives. The hush of a door opening blinds you even in your mind’s eye, a lone figure silhouetted in the front of the room you feel is so real around you.

A modulated voice speaks out, calling your given name and it startles you. The figure standing in front of you is swathed in shadows, making you believe it’s the one you had done your best to hide from until that very point. But the figure moves, revealing he’s not donning all black nor breathing with the assistance of a compressor.

He’s not the one who expertly wields a blade made of the same energy you feel coursing through you, red and blinding as it buzzes menacingly. The feeling of a handle is strong, the weight of it in your hands as the red spurs to life to form a weapon of your own. It diffuses to white and you feel a sense of calm, of kinship, of connection with the figure in front of you that you now know is armored in beskar.

Your eyes snap open and you seethe at the sight of your mother in front of you, of her still touching you, looming closer. She’s the reason for your feelings, every single one of them. The realization slams into you and it hurts. Your breath catches, lungs burning as you feel like no air is enough to breathe. You’re pulling away from her with more vigor, even as your mind swims at the lack of oxygen to function.

She’s the one who had first shackled you, keeping you under her control with the guise of hiding you away from those you had run home and away from. Their reach endless and their efforts never ceasing.

She was supposed to be a safe haven, someone you could return to after years of being separated. She was supposed to be someone who looked after you, protected you. But she had enslaved you instead, following in the footsteps of those you had run from though her power over you had been in the form of sedatives and metal so heavy it was debilitating. Not the same as the livelihood of someone you feel in your heart, someone who had since passed, someone who had given you a reason to live, taught you all he had to teach, cared for you with all the love he had to give. Donning the same metal you feel around your body, damning you where it had once saved you. The same metal you feel curling over your shoulders, a gift from someone truly good, who exuded care and honor. Someone who was associated with the one who had hunted then set you free.

Someone you could feel very close by. Accompanied by two others that called out to you in their familiarity as you stand in front of the woman who claims to be your mother even as she controls and tears you down to nothing more than errant thoughts she easily manipulates without a second thought.

“Darling, this is highly inappropriate.” You mother frowns, refusing to let you go, as if she knew the hold she had on you had crumbled away. “The medic should’ve…he should’ve fixed this.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me!” The commanding sound of your voice like a stranger’s in your own ears, someone who you don’t recognize. The windows of your room rattle, the tapestries float into the air, that power you feel deep in your very bones all around you, ready and willing to be harnessed.

“There is, San, you’re having delusions. The same thing happened to your father, that’s why I sent him away.” The woman insists, her knuckles whitening with the force she’s holding to you even as you step back, trying to get away from her. You raise your hands to push at her.

“That’s a kriffing lie!” You can’t help the burst of energy that flows from you, knocking you both to the ground. She’s yards away from you, her hands scrambling for something that had been flung from her pockets. A remote. Before you could even think of what it could be for, she’s pressing the button down in the center of it and your vision blacks out as something bright and burning flows through your veins.

Lethargic, your body is heavy as you leave the infirmary. Even as you move as silently as you can, mind humming with paranoia of being seen, of being tended to, of your mother. All you wanted right now was to see Aliit, to feel the calm only his presence seems to bring you. Especially as the wedding draws near the palace compound become crowded with guests invited by the king and queen, far too many of them displaying New Republic badges and pins. Something that was spiking adrenaline and worry in you for reasons you didn’t know. They had once been helpful, you thought, as the war raged on and landed on the shores of K’ath, their aid had helped to keep the economy afloat and food on the table.

But now, the mere mention and sight of their affiliation sent your instincts into a hum, the feeling of needing to run settling deep in every muscle of your body.

The room you were in was small, but done up as a bedroom. Colorful tapestries and a four post bed complete with a headboard that had metal rings fastened at the top that unnerved you the longer you gazed up at them from where you lay against the pillows.

The guards are playing some sort of dice game, gathered at the end of the hall when you peek out of the door to the main part of the infirmary. A flash of lightning brightening the scene for you to see as clear as if it was the middle of the day, not well into the night at the only source of light was the lanterns fastened to the walls.

As you round the last corner to the hallway that held your bedroom, the safety of which you were seeking out, thunder rumbled outside. The storm was picking up, the rain falling down in sheets when you pass by a window. The wind shifts and the rain lashes against the windows in a manifestation of your heightening anxiety.

Just as you step into the hall, lightning strikes something far too close. The sharp crack of it hurting the very nerves of your body. The tall, wide shadow in the hall that turns to face you distorts from vague darkness to shiny metallic. The figure is swathed in beautiful armor for a the briefest of moments until the hallway is thrown back into darkness.

But it happens again as the lightning begins to stream down from the storm clouds as heavy as the rain.

The light of the lanterns bouncing off the polished surface of the glinting armor as the man begins to walk towards you. The dark visor across the sporadic flash of a helmet blends into the darkness, making it hard to gauge exactly who it is beneath. It’s overwhelming, the streaks of blinding light through the windows, an assault on your eyes and mind as you try to right yourself from where you must’ve leaned into the wall.

Thunder sounds and you realize you had tensed up, muscles protesting the steps you so desperately want to take, just a few yards to the door. To your room, to safety.

You feel a harsh current flow through your body again, sending you crashing to the floor as your words turn into a scream. Thunder drowning out the sound as it echoes in the hall, rain beating down against the windows. The figure now only a few feet away rushes to your side, catching you just before you could crumble completely. His arms are strong around you, cradling you as you thrash and convulse as more currents strike through your body, no longer a distant occurrence outside of the windows. Seemingly in time with the lightning lighting up the sky in blinding flashes.

But it’s not armor that you feel against your body, it’s the soft give of flesh beneath flowing fabric. Heart thudding at the realization, you realize that the armor hadn’t alarmed you, it had calmed you in its fleeting appearance. It had ben familiar, it had felt like…it had felt like something that had been missing from you the moment you had woken up in a bed and city you didn’t recognize. The presence of a shadowed figure you had tried to fill with the prince, only for it to not fit snuggly together like puzzle pieces. It felt so similar to how Aliit’s presence soothed you.

It must be him, you think as you feel yourself slump against the ground, the figure holding you lowering you both to the ground as the storm raged on. As you gazed up at him through bleary eyes, the silver armor glinted, the darkness of a visor glittered in the flashing light, and then it was clouded by the backs of your eyelids as you felt another current ravage your body. Behind them, you see the crisp image of the armored man standing atop a ramp leading to a ship, a small green figure in his arms as he turns to you and your heart jumps, the prickling of tears sharp as you realize what’s been missing all this time. What’s been hidden in plain sight beside you this whole time.

“San, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s-“ His voice is unmodulated, no vocoder distorting it. But it’s him and your heart swells.

“Din.” You breath out, eyes snapping open and finding his own. The man you loved was staring back at you, his helmet, his armor, all of it was gone to reveal a sliver of his face to you.

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fanficwriterforeverythingnerdy · 2 years

Text

A Kenobi

You had spent a while traveling with the Mandolorian and his adopted son. He’d picked you up after a job on Dantooine. He’d stayed with a few days when it was time to leave Grogu made it clear you had to come with. Din was skeptical until he watched you with a blaster. You were lethal yet kind-hearted. If he knew why you were that gifted with a blaster, you weren’t sure if he’d stay around.

You tried not to think too much about the war, and the part you had played. The friends you let down. The friends who didn’t even try to find you. How he’d never tried to find you. But the past was the past. You couldn’t hold onto it forever, but you also knew it would catch up with you eventually. You just didn’t think it would catch up with you this quickly though.

You stood behind Din as the dark troopers tried to get to you all. Everyone in the Room aimed their blaster at the doors. Then you saw it. An X-Wing.

“One X-Wing? Great we’re saved,” said Kara.

“Incoming craft identify yourself,” said Bo.

Then you felt it. Felt him. While the bond between you had dimmed over the years, you knew it was him. Grogu seemed to also feel his presence. Then it all made sense Grogu had called him here. You felt goosebumps cast their way down your arm. You gasped softly. Din noticed. The dark troopers paused their assault outside.

“Why’d they stop?” asked Cara.

Din looked at you and the kid. He knew you knew something. On the screen, a cloaked figure began to attack the dark troopers with a lightsaber.

“A Jedi?” gasped Bo Katan.

Din looked over. Moff Gideon took the distraction as an opportunity to shoot at Bo Katan he then aimed his blaster at Grogu. Din leaped in front of him shielding him with his beskar.

“Drop it,” threatened Fennec.

All weapons were trained on Gideon. You reached Grogu brushing your hand over his head. Cara knocked out Gideon with her blaster. Grogu walked over to the screen placed his tiny hand on the screen he glanced briefly at you. Din’s eyes were on both of you. You moved closer to Grogu.

“You called him here––didn’t you?” you said.

He cooed in response. You sighed grabbing his other little hand. As the cloaked figure took out the last of the dark troopers Grogu looked directly at Din and whined trying to communicate with him. Din seemed to understand as he lifted him up Grogu’s hand slipping out of yours.

“Open the doors,” said Din.

“Are you crazy?” asked Fennec

“Do it,” you said. You didn’t miss the slight shake in it.

Din looked back at you. He wanted to ask what was wrong but this was not the time. He placed Grogu in a chair and hit the button for the doors. You moved closer to Din and sighed out of anxiety. Time to confront your past.

He walked in through the doors. Hood up with a green lightsaber in his grip. You dreaded him taking that hood off. The glow of his saber reflected off Din’s beskar. He deactivated his lightsaber and placed it back on his belt. He reached up and tossed the hood back. There he was in all his glory. Luke Skywalker. Grogu peeked out behind the chair.

“Are you a Jedi?” asked Din.

“I am,” Luke said.

His gaze met yours. A frown took over his features. He had changed. The all-black was not a bad look for him, but it was different from how you remembered him. Din glanced between the two of you. You tried to mask your emotions, but they were festering beneath.

“I didn’t think our paths would ever cross again,” he said.

“You thought or you hoped,” you said.

“Y/n,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what exactly Luke? You left me to die.”

“I thought you’d come back, Y/n you have to believe that.”

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Cara, “You two know each other? Wow Y/n, I didn’t think you knew any Jedi.”

“They don’t know do they?” asked Luke.

“Luke––” you warned.

“Know what? Mesh’la what is he talking about?” asked Din.

Luke kept his gaze trained on you. You glared in return. Everything was about to come out in the open.

“You don’t know who she is do you?”

“She’s Y/n L/n,” said Fennec, “What else do you wanna know?”

“No. Not L/n––”

“Luke––stop.”

“Kenobi. Her name is Y/n Kenobi.”

Bo Katan gasped. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you.

“And she’s a Jedi like her father before her.”

Silence enveloped the room. The only stare you worried about was Din. Your Din. You knew without being able to see his face that the trust that you’d built was now obliterated. Luke looked away from you glancing at Grogu. He held his hand out to him.

“Come little one,” said Luke.

Grogu gazed at you and Din. He was asking for permission to leave.

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” said Din.

“He’s asking for your permission,” said Luke, “he is strong with the force, a talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child.”

Luke looked at you at that part a hint of regret passed through his blue eyes.

“ But he will not be safe til masters his abilities.”

Din picked Grogu up holding him tenderly,

“Go on,” he said. Voice soft like velvet. “That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.”

Din looked at you holding silently communicating to come here. You brushed against cold beskar and grabbed onto one of Grogu’s hands.

“We’ll see you again,” Din spoke.

“We promise,” you finished.

Grogu slipped his hand out of yours and brushed it against the bottom of your chin. He reached out again this time to Din. He swept his little hand against the helmet. Din carefully reached up to the helmet––you gasped and turned around refusing to look at him.

“Alright pal,” his voice unmodulated, “it’s time to go. Don’t be afraid.”

You turned slightly glancing at the back of Din’s head. A head you had only seen or felt in the dark of the Razor Crest. He set Grogu down and it was clear the kid was sad to go. You then heard familiar beeping––R2. Grogu seemed to recognize him. R2 beeped at the sight of you. You smiled.

“Hello R2,” you said.

“You could come with us, Y/n. You could come home.”

You sighed. You knew he’d say that. Knew he’d ask you to go home. Back with him. Back to Han and Leia. And while a part of you missed them you couldn’t forget what he’d done.

“I am home Luke,” you said stepping back towards Din.

He sighed. Luke pulled something off of his belt. Your lightsaber. He stepped towards you placing it in your hand. His touch lingered for a moment.

“I’ll see you again Y/n. I feel it in the force.”

You said nothing just taking your saber. Luke reached down and lifted Grogu in his arms. He looked at you and Din who now stood right beside you a tear trailing down his cheek.

“May the force be with you.”

And just like that he and the child were gone. You felt eyes on you. You looked down at the ground. Now to deal with the present. Din interlocked your hands.

“Mesh’la,” he said. Voice laced with sorrow, “Why––”

“Not here Din. Not here.”

“Yes, here,” said Bo Katan, “you’re a Kenobi. Your Obi-Wan’s daughter.”

You turned you gazed at the redhead. Before you met Din you did some digging into your past. Your mother was Satine Kyrze which made Bo your aunt.

“Who–who is your mother?” Bo asked.

“I never knew my mother,” you said “but I think you know who she was.”

Bo had removed her helmet. She reached a shaky hand up to her mouth. She maneuvered over to you and hugged you tightly. She let you go glancing at Din,

“Let’s get out of here.”

Everyone loaded up on the ship. Bo gave your shoulder a squeeze looking over at Din who had not yet put his helmet back on. You sighed. This wasn’t how you wanted him to find out. Bo walked out of the bay and headed to the flight deck leaving you and Din alone. You sat down on a nearby bench not daring to look at him. Din kneeled in front of you placing a hand on your thigh.

“Cyar’ka, look at me,” he said.

You always loved the sound of his voice without the helmet now you feared it. Din sighed placing his gloved hand on your chin guiding you to look at him. This was the first time you’d ever seen his face. And Maker he was beautiful. Deep brown eyes searched your own. They held a warmth to them. His hair was short but slightly wavy. His nose was cute. His mouth held a slight frown to it. He was studying you.

“Cyar, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked glancing down at your saber.

“I–I was just afraid.”

“Afraid of what Cyar?”

“Afraid you’d hate me.”

Gloved hands cupped both of your cheeks holding you in place so you had no other choice but to look at him. His eyes were so sad.

“Mesh’la I could never hate you. You’re all I have left.”

Tears streaked down your face. You knew what the next question would be. “Could you have trained him?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I haven’t used the force for a few years now.”

“Because of what happened?”

You nodded as more alligator tears leaked out.

“What did happen?”

“It happened on Bespin in Clou–Cloud,” you hiccuped, “City.”

Din ran a hand through your hair while the other rested on your thigh again. He urged you to continue.

“I–it was Vader,” you shuddered, “he knew our relationship and who I was. He set a trap for Luke and me. He used our friends as bait. Luke fell out of the bottom of the tower. He escaped. But I couldn’t. I was stuck with Vader. I thought he was going to kill me. He took my saber. And placed me under arrest. I spent a few months in prison. I was supposed to be terminated. But an old friend saved me.”

“Ashoka,” Din said. “Yeah, Ashoka. She hid me somewhere safe. I wanted to go back to the rebellion but Ashoka told me they believed I was a lost cause. Even Luke. So I ran. I ran from my past. I changed my name and never looked back.”

“Cyar’ka, my sweet girl, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay it’s not entirely Luke’s fault but it still hurt.”

Din pulled you into his lap. He kept you as close as possible. His face pressed into your neck inhaling your scent.

“Cyare, I love you. “I love you more.”

“We should get married.”

You looked at him as he gazed right at you. You stroked his face. His beautiful face. “Okay,” you whispered. A smile graced your lips.

“I want to be your Riduur, Mesh’la.”

“You’ll always have me Din.”

You curled into his arms. The events of the day catching up with you. You placed your head in the crook of his shoulder slowly nodding off. He was yours. He would always be your home. Even if one member was no longer with you.

#din djarin #din djarin x y/n #luke skywalker #past luke skywalker x reader #star wars grogu #star wars #the mandolorian x you #the manadalorian #mando x reader #din dijarin x reader #kenobi!reader #force sensitive

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the-marshals-wife · 9 months

Text

Revenant (Baylan Skoll x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: I know that not many people have written this character in light of Ray Stevenson's passing, but I want to help keep the legacy of his amazing portrayal alive by continuing to imagine and create stories with Baylan. I truly that hope this one will inspire others to do the same. Fic starts with his perspective, then switches to reader's POV when Y/N appears (marked with a ☀︎).

Description: Baylan Skoll x Fem!Reader, hurt/comfort + fluff | Warnings: none 'cept reunion kisses, hehe | Word count: 1,960

Gif credit: user dustysalmon

Imagine being Baylan's secret love from long ago, brought back by an ancient power

The threads of destiny are difficult to untie. Baylan Skoll knew this all too well, feeling tangled within them for many years. Yet it seemed his arrival on Peridea had finally given him a true line to follow. A great power called out to him, and though it was elusive, he was certain that something more than just hope led him onward. The siren song had taken him far into the wilderness, traversing into the desolate unknown. Having discovered a distant light on the horizon to guide him, the feeling he'd been chasing only strengthened.

However, it was not long after spotting the beacon that he became distracted from his course by a separate, ethereal energy. It was also powerful, but it was distinct from the other entity he sensed. Unable to ignore it for very long, he decided to travel toward it. Having crossed the valley west of his original path, Baylan now stood in the shadow of a vast mountain before the opening of a cave. Above the entrance, there were runes carved into the gray stone, different from the Dathomiri ones he had seen. These appeared to be more ancient, faded from weather and time. Several moments passed as he contemplated whether to enter, staring into the silent darkness.

"The pathway to knowledge is fraught with difficulty," he reminded himself.

The words both assured and haunted him, having been said to him by his master countless times, so very long ago. That time, that world, seemed as ancient as the place he now found himself in.

He heaved a sigh and walked forward. He accomplished only a few steps before the daylight behind him had diminished beyond helpful visibility. Noting the sufficient space remaining between him and the ceiling, he retrieved his lightsaber and ignited it above him, the reddish-orange blade shining enough to let him proceed. Its steady hum was the only sound to be heard as he tread carefully ahead.

The feeling grew stronger with every step he took. It was one of familiarity, and it put him on edge. It could be a trap of some kind, he'd thought, yet he could not sense any immediate threat. Whatever called to him wanted to be found. He resolved to remain alert, and drew deeper into the cave.

Soon after, the walls gradually drew close. Baylan lowered his lightsaber and held it out before him, the space becoming too narrow to keep it overhead. A few minutes later, he finally caught a glimpse of light. The pitch black turned to a blue dimness, and the once uniform stone surrounding him now possessed long, jagged cracks, each and every crevice emanating a pale, sapphire glow. Even the floor beneath him gave the appearance of treading on fractured, shining glass. He cautiously approached the end of the tunnel. Beams of greater intensity radiated toward him like a sun.

The passageway opened into a tall, wide cavern, bathed in blinding light. Baylan attempted to shield his eyes as he stepped towards the source. The power surging around him was stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. The sound of rushing wind filled the space, but all was still. He strained to catch a glimpse of the crystal pillars in the center of the room, encircling the bright glow.

Before he could approach any further, the sound diminished into silence, and the light suddenly began to cease. At its center, a luminous figure emerged. Baylan watched as the remaining light withdrew into the flickering columns and revealed what could only be called an apparition.

"Impossible," he uttered.

He extinguished his lightsaber and replaced it on his belt, never tearing his stare away.

"Y/N," he breathed, "It cannot be,"

Was it the planet playing tricks on him? Witchcraft? A vision sent to punish him for transgressing an arcane power?

It did not matter. You were here.

☀︎

The starlight that had filled your vision just moments ago started to fade, your heart pounding in your chest. You gasp as air returns to your burning lungs. You're unsteady on tingling legs as you try to take in your surroundings through blurred eyes. A pool of blue light recedes around your bare feet until only a shimmering floor of stone remains. The cool, silk sleeves of a white gown adorns your arms as you begin to feel sensation in your limbs once more.

You hear your name spoken from behind, recognizing the voice.

Heart now racing, you try to blink the blurriness away. At last your eyes focus, and as you turn around, you see a face you know as well as your own.

"Baylan?"

"It's not possible," he whispers, stepping nearer, "You...you are one with The Force."

He slowly reaches out to you, and you inch forward to close the distance. His gloved fingers lace through your hair as he gently touches the side of your face. His breath hitches at the contact.

"It is you," he says, his eyes shining with tears, "You're here."

Your own tears blur your sight once again as you lean into his touch. "I'm here."

"But how..." he questions, "You did not-"

Anguish seizes his voice as he's overcome by the memory. You draw closer and clasp his arm, reassuring him of your presence.

He gazes into your eyes, finding the strength to finish. "You did not survive."

"I did not," you agree, "I was in the Netherworld. At peace."

Baylan's composure only weakens further as you speak on.

"I was dreaming of you. I dreamed that you were lost...in a great darkness. The light was not far from you, but you couldn't see it. I kept calling out for you, but you didn't hear me," you recall, the vision already seeming distant, "Then the light came toward me. It was so bright, I couldn't see you anymore. Even when I closed my eyes, all I could see was the light."

You pause, looking to him longingly. "And now, I am here."

He shakes his head, fighting the disbelief. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I," you say, placing your hands on his chest, "But all is as The Force wills it."

He grins at your words. "I've missed you more than I can bear, my love," he confesses, a tear falling from his eye, "If this is a dream, I wish to never wake."

You choke back a sob, trembling with joy. Only his name escapes from your tightened throat. "Baylan."

He pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into his strong, comforting arms. There was nowhere in the universe you felt more safe. You look up and begin to lose yourself in his deep blue eyes, just as you'd done countless times before. The space between you disappears as you surrender to a desperate kiss of equal yearning and passion.

You both smile as you break away, faces lingering close. He gazes upon you, enraptured, holding you tightly. "I have so much to tell you."

In your heart, he was the same man you knew and loved from what felt like a lifetime ago. Yet, as your eyes drifted from his greyed beard to examine the black fabric beneath your fingertips, you sensed much had also changed. You wanted to know everything, but your intuition would not abate, and your thoughts had begun to cloud.

"What is this place?" you ask, surveying the iridescent walls around you.

"It's quite a story. Like the ones we were told as children," he chuckled, "Many things I once thought were myth have been very recently proven otherwise. If the legends about them are true as well, then I believe this is one of the well-springs of the Living Force."

"But that means," you falter, looking back at him wide-eyed, "we must be on..."

"Peridea, yes," he confirms.

"Baylan, you found it! The stories were true, you found the pathway!" you exclaim.

"And so much more. This place is far greater than what the Jedi could have foretold," he says, releasing you to take your hands in his, "Now, we will share in its glory together. There is nothing left to stand between us. No Order, no war, no hiding. Everything we once spoke of, it can come to pass."

You want nothing more than to accept his wonderful words, but there was much you still didn't know. Apart from this day, you had not been granted sight of Baylan while in the Netherworld. Yet even in your rest, you'd had several visions of suffering and conflict enveloping the galaxy as The Dark Side permeated The Force. A great evil had spread throughout the stars, and now a shadow of dread grew in your mind that you could not shake. What if the premonition from before you awoke was meant as a warning? Had that same darkness truly overcome your beloved? Surely, he had not fallen beyond the reach of the light.

You realize the turmoil within you must have shown, for now Baylan looks over you with concern.

"Share your burdens, my love," he says, softly raising your chin up, "The Force has reunited us. Why does your heart ache?"

You hesitate, not entirely sure of the answer yourself. "I don't ever want to be parted from you again." It was not untrue; you did fear losing him above all else.

"I give you my word, you will never be taken from my side again," he vows, gently cradling your face in his hands, "No power can stand against us. We can make this world our own. Everything I have, it will be yours also. There is nothing I won't give to you, and nothing I will not do."

You can't help but smile. Tears return to your eyes as he continues.

"It is our destiny, Y/N. That is why you were brought back to me. There can be no other purpose. Together, henceforth, we will remain united."

He carefully thumbs away the tears from your flushed cheeks, and proceeds to press a kiss to your knuckles, sealing his promise.

There was no power to rival that which he had over you. Your heart indeed ached fiercely, with a devotion unaltered by time or distance.

"I love you. I have never stopped, and now I can say it aloud without fear," you declare with a soft, triumphant laugh, "I love you, Baylan."

"And I you, Y/N, as the sky loves the stars," he replies, wholly sincere, "Much has changed, I cannot deny that. But what I feel for you has never faded, and it never will."

You respond to his confession by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss, which he fervently returns. You pull away many heartbeats later, savoring each second of tender rediscovery.

Baylan's eyes soften as he smiles again. "Would you like to see the sky, my star?"

"More than anything," you answer, "But let us stay in this moment, just a little longer."

He brings his forehead to rest upon yours. "As you wish."

Not everything had changed. Baylan Skoll could still read your mind as if it were his own, put your doubts to rest as quickly as they arise, and remained the love of all of your lives. You didn't need The Force to tell you something in him was darker than before, but you weren't going to rush into uncovering it. You truly seemed to have been given a second chance, and all you wanted was to cling to the man you loved, just as you had those long years ago. This moment was all that you needed, and it was sweeter than any dream, in this galaxy and the next.

#baylan skoll x reader #baylan x reader #baylan skoll #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #ahsoka fanfiction #star wars x reader #my writing #is y/n force sensitive? you decide lol #really do want to write a part 2 to this someday

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