#force sensitive reader

[blxkstar]

I made a playlist for using the Light Side of the Force.

Using inspiration of the feeling of tapping into the light side, and feeling the Force flow through you. Please check it out!!

"The Force. What does it feel like?" "Have you ever been afraid of the dark? How does it feel when you turn on the light?” “I feel safe,” “Yes, it feels like that.”

[penvisions]

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.

previous chapter || next chapter

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@smiithys @thefrogdalorian

[anonymousewrites]

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.

l

            “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

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[mr-honks]

Starboy

Ok hear me out here with my Star Wars obsession…

“will you promise to show me the stars?”

“I wouldn’t just show you the stars, I would give them to you”

But imagine living on one of the lowest habitable levels of Coruscant, like the ones that are so low that the people who live there have never seen the sky and don’t think the sun or stars are real.

Imagine being a force sensitive that lives down there, but you live as a scavenger barely scrapping by. Your employers and fellow workers call you Starboy because you have always dreamed of seeing the stars but everyone thinks you’re crazy because the stars aren’t real in their eyes. One day while you’re on one of the lowest and sketchiest levels, scavenging, a tall man wearing all black and mask appears but only you can see him, no one else. He seems just as confused to see you as you are of him but he mumbles something about the wrong scavenger before literally disappearing in front of your eyes. You brush if off as insanity because its not uncommon for people to go crazy while so deep in Coruscant.

But he keeps appearing, you try to ignore him but he keeps asking all these questions, where, who, and what you are. You keep refusing to give personal information as you grew up in one of the most dangerous places on the whole planet. After quite some time you start to warm up to each other. You give him your name and he gives you his, Kylo Ren. Of course you’re not an idiot and you recognize that name immediately but Kylo can’t physically touch you, so you don’t seem to worry much about it. You still never tell him where you are, always trying to make him guess.

After some time you ask Kylo about the stars, something you have never asked anyone before. He’s very confused at first on such a strange question but after you explain to him your situation he tells small bits and pieces to try to keep you intrigued enough to continue to talk to him.

Kylo ever since has tried to convince you to give your location up so he can find you, as another force sensitive he wants to train you control your power. You are hesitant at first and never give a start answer for a long time. That is until one day, almost a year since you first met Kylo you get in a really bad fight with one of your only friends and decided “fuck it.” That’s where the question comes up “will you promise to show me the stars?” The question comes out of nowhere for Kylo and he just turned his head to you for a few seconds. You tell he’s staring at you from under his mask he never takes off. “I won’t just show you the stars, I will give them to you” that’s all it takes for you to give him your exact coordinates on the planet.

I literally have no explanation for this other than I’ve fallen into the Coruscant rabbit hole 💀

[meguwumibear]

been watching a shit ton of star wars and it made me want to add onto this

Most of Megumi’s fellow initiates are at least a decade younger than him. He spends his mornings surrounded by round, chubby faces with noses full of snot. If Megumi were a gambling man, he’d bet none of them have even seen their first armpit hair. Toji certainly would’ve liked those odds.

Megumi’s fellow initiates are younger but smarter. Or maybe wiser is the better word. They all know so much about the force, about what it means to be a Jedi. They live, eat, sleep, and breath the code. No emotion. No chaos. No passion. Blah, blah, blah-bity, blah.

The code

The fucking code.

Mastere Gojo tells him only Siths deal in absolutes, but the code feels pretty absolute to him.

When he isn’t studying military history or medical science or whatever nonsense the Jedi Masters plan for him that day, he meditates. The meditation is supposed to help him conquer his fear and his anger and his hate, but the feelings only seem to fester.

The Jedi made him leave Tsumiki. They told him attachments are forbidden among their kind. Gojo promised she’d be well taken care of, but it killed a part of him to do it all the same. Abandoning her makes him feel everything the code forbids him to. Through mediation he realizes why: leaving his sister behind is the exact sort of thing his father would have—and in fact has—done.

That’s who he sees now when he looks in the mirror. Not his own face, but that of his fathers. Scarred from battle. Eyes simmering with rage. Parts of Toji live on in Megumi, and he’s slowly resurrecting the man, one selfish decision at a time.

Megumi isn’t supposed to fight anymore, but tonight he’s itching for one. Fights are surprisingly easy to come across on Coruscant. There’s a whole underground world the Jedi either pretend not to know about or deliberately leave unattended. Keepers of the peace Megumi’s ass.

He blames the violent urge on the midi-chlorians. The Masters say they’re what give the Jedi their force sensitivity, these teensy, tiny, microscopic lifeforms. The parasites—most of the Masters sneer when Megumi calls them that, but Gojo always smiles—live in and communicate with him from his blood. So, surely, if his desire to fight is blood deep, it must also be the desire of these fucking bugs.

He signs up for a fight. Fuck it. One fight won’t hurt. What’s the worst that can happen? It isn’t like the Masters can take the force away from him. He will always be one with it. Plus, the Jedi strive for peace and harmony, two things Megumi is never closer to than after a fight.

Megumi has fought all kinds of opponents. Big ones. Small ones. Creatures more monster than man. Beasts with tusks thick and long as his forearm. Animals barely sentient enough to consent. What Megumi has never, ever fought though, is someone like you.

Because you’re just a girl. A pretty ordinary one too.

He keeps stealing glances at you, waiting to see if you’ll shift or transform into something else, but you never do. It’s just you, your scrappy clothes, and your wild, nearly inhuman eyes.

He’s fought women before of course. That isn’t the issue. You honestly just don’t look like much of a fighter. Young and scrawny with purple bruises the size of phaseballs littered across your skin from all the time you spend in the ring. He wonders if you’ve ever even won a match.

But then the bell chimes, signaling the start of the round, and he doesn’t even have a second to gather his thoughts before you’re on him. A well-placed right hook to the cheek sends him reeling back a step. It’s been a while since he’s had to take a punch. He forgot the thrill and sting of it.

The flesh of his cheek burns where your knuckles collided with it. You’ve busted a few of his capillaries. He can feel the bruise forming. The skin will be black and blue by morning and all of the Jedi Masters will know what their precious little Padawan gets up to in his spare time. There’ll be no hiding the evidence.

He’s thinking too much; too caught up in his own thoughts. That’s why his misses a second shot to his gut. He chokes as your fist connects with his stomach, punching the air clean out of him. All the meditation he’s been doing is making him slow. He can’t seem to orient himself to the fight.

The fight continues. He manages to land a few blows but he’s taking more hits than he’s landing. You’re quick on your feet, light and graceful like a dancer or acrobat. Maybe that’s your background. Maybe you once performed on a stage instead of in a ring.

He doesn’t have time to ponder further. You manage to get one of your legs under him and sweep him off his feet. He lands hard on his ass. So hard the impact travels up his vertebrae, vibrating his skull.

There’s another impact before he can even think to right himself. You use your weight and momentum to force him onto his back. It isn’t enough to end the fight, but he knows your victory is near.

You plop unforgivingly on top of his lap, straddling his aching hips. A steady fist raises to deliver the final blow. Frenzied eyes gleam with the promise of victory. Split lips reveals teeth stained red with blood.

“Yield,” you demand. And when he doesn’t, another firmer, “Yield.”

He could use the force. Street fights don’t prohibit it. They don’t really have to. Jedi tend to think too highly of themselves to participate in them. Megumi is probably going to be the first and last of his kind to spend time in the ring.

“I yield,” he manages to push out, despite the ache in his lungs from your assault. It’s a generous and humble offer. Any other opponent would’ve taken the shot. Using the force now would feel like cheating. You’ve beaten him fair and square.

You jump up to greet the roaring crowd, arms raised high in victory. When you glance down at him—out of pity or mockery, Megumi can’t be sure—he’s embarrassed to discover that not only has he sorely lost the fight, but that his cock is rock fucking hard.

[powerful-niya]

Clash Of Possession |

Dark Naruhina Fanfic

Naruhina Month 2023: Yakuza AU & Evil AU

||Available On: Wattpad • AO3||

— ☯The Heiress & The Demon Lord

— ☯Character Mood-Boards | Naruto & Hinata

Summary: In the heart of the yakuza underworld of Tokyo, the passing of Hiashi, the leader of the Hyūga clan, does more than just break Hinata's heart, but it exposes her to vulnerability.

Seizing the opportunity, the ruthless Naruto, Uzumaki clan leader, targets not only the conquest of the Hyūga clan but also wishes to claim Hinata as his most prized possession, no matter the cost.

General Tags |

☯ Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Dark Themes, Clan Rivals, Clan Leaders, Uzumaki Clan, Hyūga Clan, War, Chakra Use, Demon/Human, Dark Naruto, Obsession, Possession, Gore, Blood & Violence, Murder, Suggestive Language, Enemies To Lovers, Forced Marriage Through Dictatorship, Tragedy, Grief, Loss, Major Character Death, Japanese/Japanese Culture, NSFW Themes, Dubcon, Sexual Coercion, Dom/Sub, Smoking, Sexist Slurs, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Nhmonth, Nhmonth23. Additional Tags Inside Fic.

Chapter Index |

☯Introduction (紹介): AO3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 1k.

☯Arc 1: In The Shadow Of The Hyūga

☯Part 1 (第一部): AO3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 7.8k.

☯Part 2 (第二部): AO3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 13k.

☯Part 3 (第三部): AO3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 16.3k.

☯Part 4 (第四部): AO3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 10.5k.

☯Part 5 (第五部): Ao3 | Wattpad

Word Count: 14.6k

Support |

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[castiwls]

"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.

[apocalyp-tech-a]

My Jedi OC, Seren Myral from Force and Sensitivity. It's a Tech x reader. There's a reason why her helmet resembles Tech's. I may add more details eventually. Chapter 38 is nearly done!

[yandere-daydreams]

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.

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 9}

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

Summary: Back on Tatooine, where you once resided, a lot of thoughts and emotions consume you. Trying your best to field them while Din is away on a job with an eager young man who is willing to prove himself worthy of joining the very Guild that Din betrayed.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical fighting, gun violence, ptsd, trauma, nightmares, physical illness, vomiting, avoidance of food, food trauma, physical descriptions of injuries (brief), thoughts of suicidal ideation, mention of past suicide attempt, mentions of past self-harm (not detailed), description of scars, body image issues, sexual trauma, mention of past SA (not detailed / brief), reference to past captivity / slaving environment, major angst, mental illness

A/N: hello, hello. a lot has been going on in my personal life and i had exams due last week. i received a comment on chapter 7 regarding san's mental health and how it felt 'rushed' bc she didn't exhibit typical trauma responses 'enough'. and while i appreciate the reader reaching out, to hear that i'm not writing an angsty enough exploration of her experiences and trauma was a little disheartening, bc i don't want to write such a full bodied character with a rich background to feel 'glossed over'. especially with having planned exactly that for this chapter. healing isn't linear, good moments and passages of time where things almost seem to be okay is completely normal. so with that in mind, this is a rather heavy chapter, i've had it planned for a while to explore san's mental state now that there is no impending return to her mother or inherent survival instincts she's reliant on with din willing to watch out for and protect her. thank you all for reading, i appreciate each and every one of you, you have no idea how much

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

Sparks flew inside the control room as you rushed to your seat, hands grabbing onto anything it could to help keep balance as you did so, the ship wavering heavily with the effort it was taking to keep the course of flight steady. Alarm blaring to let the pilot and crew know that some damage was taken from a successful hit to one of the engines. Din seemed to be collected, but you could tell that being tracked by another person piloting a ship the second he dropped out of hyperspace was a worry to him. The ship sputtered loudly as the same engine took another hit.

“Hold on.” He announced as he maneuvered the ship into a smooth spiral. The movement offset your sense of gravity and you shut your eyes tight as he tried to evade the determined attacker. One the ship was back into a right side up path, he was muttering to himself too low for you to hear over the cacophony of the ship and blasters raining down all around, some of them zooming past you into the empty space around the ship before tapering off with nothing to land on and cause damage. The bright red of their beams lighting up the near darkness of the control room.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” The voice transmission crackled with static as Din quickly jerked one of the few gear shifts, this one seeming to be for some sort of speed control system as the ship lurched to a halt. The spare second of silence with the engines ceasing operation was broken by a twin wooshes that made you think enough damage was done in such a short time that the ship would falter and you’d be left floating dead in space with no running mechanics. Your chest panged with the force of falling forward and the belt around you dug into your front. As soon as you were able to, you turned your head over to the Child, seeing him struggling just the same as you, if not more so due to his size.

With the attacking ship now in front of the Crest, Din quickly locked onto it, the screen beeping with a good track.

“That’s my line.” His voice was even, only a hint of the annoyance he was feeling seeping through before he fired a hit with every blaster canon that was still operating. The ship exploded in front of you with a roar, the flare of it so bright it lit up the control room in a red and orange hue.

Alarms were still blaring as Din tried to gather diagnostics. He only managed to come to one conclusion before the engines powered down and sent you all into darkness, either by his hand or of their own accord to conserve power: the ship was losing fuel.

“Can you flip that back up switch on the wall behind you?”

“Oh, um, yes. Of course.” You unbuckled the belt from around you, still feeling it pressing into your skin even though it had lost its tension. Standing swiftly, you felt around the wall for what he was talking about and flipped it. As soon as you did, a faint red glow signaled that some things were back up and running, drawing from whatever power you had just engaged. He was busy switching switches and pressing controls, trying to get the ship to sputter back to life as much as possible. He seemed to know what he was doing as the engines kicked back on and the ship was moving through space once again.

All was quiet for a few moments of travel until the brightness of an approaching planet came into view, growing to encompass most of the view from the control room as it loomed closer.

“This is Mos Eisley Tower, we are tracking you. Head for bay three-five, over.”

“Copy that, locked in for three-five.”

“He’s fast asleep.” You carefully cradled the Child in your hands, having decided to bathe him while the ship closed in and landed on the planet. He was snoring quietly, the sound rather cute. It had been a challenge, he was small enough to fit in the fresher sink but he hadn’t been a fan of the water temperature the second it had begun to cool during the endeavor. You had just cooed to him, letting him know with soft words that he was alright and could sleep as long as he liked afterwards.

“We can secure him in my room, while we go and get a lay of the land.”

When you didn’t say anything in response or move to place the bundle in the small space, Din came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm in a silent question. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts, to figure out how to best explain your hesitancy without seeming too…you didn’t even know. You felt guilt for nearly leaving the small being behind in your attempt to run away from your own fate. Abandoning the only other being who you knew had gone through what you had as your temple got stormed and destroyed all those years ago. How easy it had been for you to defer to self-interest and preservation when he was so reliant and those around him. Another victim you hadn’t even given any thought to. He could easily fall into another situation like the one that you had both found yourselves in, captive at the hands of someone willing to sell you for their best interest. But he couldn’t fight his way out of it like you could.

“He’s…he’s so small, what if he wakes up and get confused?” Your breath shuddered as you spoke, giving away the emotions you felt consumed by.  You avoided looking over at the man close by, not wanting him to get a better read on your thoughts than he already was by the was you were having trouble speaking and muscles so tight you were worried they would snap if you moved too fast.

“He’ll be okay, we won’t be gone long.”

You nodded before securing him in his own little hammock, the door to the small space shutting and locking behind you as you followed the man down the ramp and into the sunlight. As you did so, three small droids no taller than your knees began to approach with various tools in their hands. The suddenness of Din brandishing his blaster and firing a shot toward them had your next step faltering. Confusion colored your expression at the rather admittedly pointless action.

“Hey!”

A short woman with extremely curly hair in a jumpsuit appeared from inside the hangars enclosed space, brandishing a heavy-duty diagnostic clipboard at him.

“You damage one of my droids, you’re gonna have to pay for it!”

“Just keep them away from my ship.” Din pointed a finger at them as they had popped back up from their cowering crouches and busied themselves in the presence of their owner.

“Yeah? Think that’s a good idea, do you? Let’s look at your ship.” Her eyes took in the tall form of the armored man in front of her, flickering to you behind him still atop the ramp, hidden mostly in the shadows of the interior. You had stopped following so closely as the blaster shot had rang through the air, not wanting to cause any trouble of your own. It was now, you were realizing, that you hadn’t really seen the man interact with another person in such a setting. The display he was putting on new to you after putting so much distance on direct interactions back on Sorgan. You had never actually seen him in a larger, more intricate setting.

Of course he would be different than when alone with you, the cautious and careful demeanor reserved only for you and the Child. Gruff nature seeming to be the way he operated with other people, new people. He didn’t mince words, you realized, and was a man of so little to begin with. It would make sense he had no notion of alluding to things, saying them plainly as they came to him. As the mechanic took a precursory look over the rather battered ship, you adjusted the cloak over your shoulders, making sure the front panels of it covered the handle of your weapon that was fastened to your belt.

The hemming and hawing of the mechanic filled the space with a one-sided conversation as you and Din watched her swivel about, taking stock of things that needed to be repaired and the damage done in such a small interaction.

“How did you even land? That’s gonna set you back.” She stepped away from the ship, facing the armored man directly now. Her expression was serious, the glint in her eye letting you know she was confident in her skills and knowledge to know that what she said was true. That most people didn’t argue with her when she told them what was wrong with their ships.  

“I’ve got 500 Imperial credits.” Was his easy response as he reached into a hidden pouch on his belt, pulling out a small pouch.

“That’s all you got?” She swiped the pouch from his offered hand harshly, as if worried he was only brandishing them at her and not actually going to hand them over in exchange for the work. She turned to address the droids that were still milling about the hangar space. “Well, what do you guys think?”

They only chittered in response, now all gathered beside her.

“That should at least cover the hangar.” Her eyes darted from him to you and back.

“I’ll get you your money.” His visor was tilted down as he addressed her seriously, no notes of betrayal in his tone.

“Hmm, I’ve heard that before.” She turned her full attention and sharp eyes to you, apparently done talking with him. “What, your wife not have anything to contribute?”

You resisted the urge to correct her and when Din didn’t your stomach did a flip. You tried not to let that little detail wiggle its way into your already overwhelmed mind, not wanting to dispel energy on overthinking the exchange. She focused on him again, seeing that you weren’t going to respond based on the way you had tensed slightly at her words.

“She’s to help earn credits to pay for the repairs as well.” He didn’t turn toward you as he spoke, keeping his gaze on the rather animated mechanic in front of him. “Just remember-“

“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya. You don’t have to say it twice.” Before she even finished talking, Din was walking off toward what you assumed was an exist route that opened up into the street of Mos Eisley.

His figure disappeared up the small set of steps that lead to it without so much as a glance over his shoulder to see if you were following.

“Jeez. Whomp rat.” The mechanic muttered under her breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange, it was so interesting to see him interact with someone who didn’t seem to be afraid or intimidated by him in the slightest. She reminded you a bit of Cara and it softened your heart despite the words she had used to address you.

“You coulda picked a nicer man. With better people skills, no idea how he managed to get you.”

“He’s alright most of the time.” You offered her a small smile, reaching into your own pocket. Ignoring the way your chest fluttered at the insinuation of her words, you held out a small pouch of credits to her as well. You had divvied up your own currency when taking stock of things last night, wanting to keep some aboard the ship, some in your bag, and some on your person in case anything should arise. You had forgone your bag today, opting to leave it on the ship since you didn’t anticipate being gone long despite not knowing what was on the mental do-to list of your companion.

“For your troubles.” She reached out far more gently than she had with Din. Opening the pouch to quickly look over what you had just handed her. She looked up to you, with a cheeky grin you weren’t too sure how to read.

“This will help cover the repair for the fuel line, but it’s a lot of damage.”

“We’ll get you the money, you have my word.” As you turned, the front of your cloak lifted with a gust of wind, your weapon glinting in the sunlight. Her eyes widened slightly at the exposure of it, but her demeanor didn’t change in the slightest. She simply nodded at you and waved you away to get started on the repairs. Turning her attention to the droids, she started barking orders of things for them to fetch her.

The streets were busy, the further you followed Din into the city, away from the hangar and the outskirts that bled into the openness of the desert. You tried to keep a distance of a few feet behind him, but he was a fast walker. As he turned a corner, you spied a display of storm trooper helmets mounted on spikes and your heart nearly stopped. Steps faltering, you stood in front of them and took in the rust and blood that had been baked into the metal from the heat of the suns. They had to have been here for years. But for all the Maker was good, you couldn’t recall ever seeing the set up before during your previous time on the planet. Maybe you had been too preoccupied, maybe it had been a recent installment as a result of a battle?

You knew there were Imperial remnants scattered all over the galaxy, that much was to be expected after such an all-encompassing and long regime. But you hadn’t faced an actual storm trooper since before your capture, when whispers of the Empire falling had just begun to spread through word of mouth and the destruction of the Death Star was still a startling event. You had considered coming out of hiding then, to reach out to the few who had been rumored to help eradicate the whole organization. But you had been scared, worried, ashamed.

The names Luke and Leia Skywalker said on every planet, ushered in reverent tones. You hadn’t been in touch with the Force much during those days, your saber locked away in a trunk and buried deep in the place you hadn’t been able to call home, despite being there for so long at that point. Meditation and practiced routines with a wooden staff had been all that you kept up from your training, worried about drawing attention by doing anything else even that far out into the desert with no one the wiser of where you were.

Your mind was trying fruitlessly to supply a reason as to why they were there in front of you, but it couldn’t. It just was. Glaringly, jarringly there.

“They got what was comin’ to them.” A passerby nodded at you, noticing the way you seemed almost frozen in your stance. You nodded back to them, not willing to verbally speak with the person. They moved on down the street, in the direction opposite of where you had been following Din’s lead. The man’s steps were shuffling, while Din’s were not. The armored man was suddenly beside you and when you turned back around you tried not to let your surprise show.

He looked from you to the helmets and back. The heat of his eyes through the visor could rival the suns for all the concentration he was focusing on you in that moment. As if he was trying to read everything, he could from the way wrinkles formed over your brow as it had furrowed to the slightest downturn of your lips as your gaze focused on the display before you and he was catching a glimpse of the memories playing behind them.

“Cuyir gar jate?”

Are you okay?

Pitched low, a few feet from you, you would be the only one to hear his words. They didn’t register for a second, your thoughts consuming you again the moment white armor filled your gaze. Anxiety hummed through you, making your fingers and arms tingle, your legs tense. Your lungs felt much like they had when still healing from the metal that had made a home in and around them, all those weeks ago, it was hard to take a full breath.

“Elek, ni ceta.”

Yes, I’m sorry.

“Nayc linibar at cuyir.  Ni shi turned rud bal gar rucuyir dar.”

No need to be. I just turned around and you were gone.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, a breath of space between the pauldrons atop his and the fabric of your cloak. Being this close allowed you the realization that he made up a large, broad figure. Intimidating to some, but you were beginning to see around the walls he had meticulously built and underneath the armor. Privy to things most people never would be, all because he was letting you. Maybe letting him catch a glimpse of your own nature would be helpful…

“Ganar gar ru'akaanir ti verde?”

Have you fought with them before?

“Elek, val ru'ram'or te jetiise bajur-taap.” 

Yes, they attacked the Jedi school.

“Pehea ruug'la rucuyir gar?”

How old were you?

“Ta'raysh.”

Ten.

Silence fell, something permeating it that you didn’t want to explore. Emotions overwhelming and the conversation too real to handle, despite giving the man answers to the questions he had asked. Having wanted to provide answers to him. He had wanted to know, however small and painful, he had wanted to know. You could understand that, you were traveling on his ship after all. Of course he wanted to know some things about you. Needing to be alone, to not have the weight of the visor trained on you, you took a step back and looked down the street to your right. A faint buzz of conversation and movement could be heard from further down, indicating that the marketplace wasn’t too far from your position.

“Ni linibar kebise, cuyir bic jate par ni at slanar?”

I need some things, is it okay for me to go?

Feeling the small tug at the corner of your mouth as you try to mask your emotions from the man in front of you, you cut your eyes at him to get a glimpse. The visor stayed still, facing the display of the helmets still, but that didn’t mean that where his attention was focused. He could’ve very well been clocking the nerves that were sparking all along your body as anxiety smoldered inside and you would be none the wiser.

“Urcir norac sha te crest?”

Meet back at the Crest?

All you could manage was a single nod of confirmation before you were walking away from him, down a side street.

There was no trace of you other than the collection of things that had been deposited atop the makeshift table when Din returned to the hangar and ascended the ramp into the Crest. He scanned the space of the hold, not finding any other hints as to where you were other than your cloak neatly folded and placed atop the crate he had given you to store your belongings in. Heaving a sigh, he went to retrieve a bag of his own when the open door of his quarters caught his attention. The small space was empty, the blanket you had wrapped the Child in laying in a crumpled heap right in the middle of the cot.

“Hey!” His voice boomed across the hangar as he bounded down the ramp with quick steps, tension drawing him tight and sparking the beginning of a headache about his temples. The unknown on top of the questions he hadn’t been able to keep quelled earlier today in front of those kriffing helmets. The stab of fear that he pushed you had made his chest tight underneath the armor until you had given him answers. Something he had so selfishly sought out from you, knowing he had to right. But you had shared with him.

The commotion of the mechanic jolting awake could be heard from somewhere within the enclosed area of the surrounding infrastructure. Calls of her being there and awake making their way to his ears as he tried to push down the panic that rose in him the longer he didn’t know where you or the Kid were.

Surely you wouldn’t have just taken him and run? You couldn’t have, you had all but promised him you would return to the ship. Why would you have purchased whatever you had and left it only to disappear with the Child?

“Where is he?” Din gruffly demanded as her small form appeared, cradling the Child in her arms.   

“Quiet! Oh, you woke it up!” She spoke between soft hushes and bounces in an attempt to calm him down. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it to sleep?”

“Give him to me.” Din pointed a finger at her, letting his anger and emotions get the better of him in light of the unknown

“Not so fast.” She fired back at him, her own annoyance flaring at his aggressive behavior. “You know, you have an awful lot to learn about raising a young one. At least your wife, really nice girl, came back and asked me to watch over him if he woke up.”

“She left?” His tone was still harsh, but not as loud now, as he realized everything seemed okay. It was good, you had come back and tended to the Child when you dropped off whatever you had gotten at the marketplace. Visor aimed at the now calm form of the Child, taking in the way he seemed to be okay at the mention of you and in the arms of the mechanic. He was gazing up at her with wide, curious eyes.

“Said she needed a few more things but wanted to check on the little one. A load more responsible than you, not even telling me he was on board all alone.”

“Was… she okay when she returned?” Din was hesitant to ask but pushed through the feeling because the need to know overwhelmed him. He could ask you, he was aware of that, but you would most likely give a perfunctory answer. Something to appease him and seem like everything was okay or at least that you have everything under control. But the shouting, the nightmare, the crying he could hear from the shower the night before. The way you had seemed so hopeless and fragile when you said you could still feel their hands all over you…

It was concerning. Din could help to heal your body, heal you of physical injuries and tend to them as they required. Should you allow him to. But mentally? He had no idea how to even offer his help, beyond pulling you to him and making you feel safe. But even that could be in poor taste, he was realizing, when so much of your trauma stemmed from physical touch in the first place. 

“Seemed alright, a little anxious. Was kind enough to bring me some lunch.”

“Did she eat?”

“I don’t know, I’m not her keeper.” The mechanic tempered back with a huff. She seemed to soften momentarily, as she hushed and bounced the Child in her arms once again. “I didn’t see it, but she could’ve while out and about.”

She continued on to let him know the progress on the ship, messing with the diagnostic readings on the mechanics she had hooked the ship up to. As she spoke, he retrieved the bag he had come back for, letting it hang from his hand in favor of tossing it over his shoulder. With a rather pointed remark about starting the other repairs aside from the fuel line, she glanced down at the cooing Kid in her arms.

“I figured you were good for the money, since you have an extra mouth to feed and the reassurances of your wife.”

“Thank you,” His words were sincere, relief flooding him as everything did seem to be okay. You had come back with a promise to return, talked to the mechanic to check on the progress of the repairs, assured her of proper payment, and acted with responsibility.

The mechanic seemed momentarily taken aback by his genuine thanks, much like you had been when he first extended what comforts he could provide to you.

As you rounded the corner, with a heavy second haul of items, you took notice of the scene in front of the hangar door. There was a young man beside two speeders, the mechanic who was holding the Child securely in her arms, and Din, who you could sense was rather tense even from the distance.

“Hey, Mando. What do you think?” A younger man preened as he leaned back against one of the two speeders parked outside of the hanger. He was about your height, if not a bit taller. Dark hair, an earring glinted in the two-fold sunshine beaming down on the planet, and predominantly black outfit with blue accents and vest. No armor adorned his body. Seemingly proud of himself for collecting them at what you were sure was the behest of Din, possibly for a job he managed to find. “Not too shabby, huh?”

Din was busy placing his bag atop the one closest to him, walking up and down the length of it as he looked it over. You watched him as he did so, approaching the small group.

“What’d you expect? This ain’t Corelia.” The young man nodded his head in greeting toward the mechanic. She didn’t seem too impressed, but the Child giggled in her arms, drawing attention to himself. Your approaching figure caught the young man’s attention and his brows disappeared into his dark hairline as you looked you over.

You had forgone your cloak for your second run into the city, needing to try on vambraces and some other items. That left you in your high collared tank top, your upper arms exposed and feeling the heat of the day. Your saber was secured inside the pouch fastened by two straps to your right thigh, over the black of your form fitting trousers. You had already made the knee pads you purchased as a part of your attire. In a huff of exasperation in the middle of the marketplace, you had braided your hair to one side and looped it on along the back of your neck with a pin.

“And who might you be?”

You ignored him, not liking his tone or the air about him. His entire demeanor and presence activating your instincts for flight. Instead, you sidled up a few feet from Din.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be that way. I’m here to help your friend, Mando.” The volume of his voice rose a little, making you uncomfortable even more so. You fixed him with a stern look, letting him know you weren’t going to play along, manners were for nice people and something about him didn’t sit right with you. He held his hands up in mock surrender, though the cheeky grin pulling at his lips made your skin crawl. He was exactly the type of person who you would’ve sourced information from once upon a time, but now you wanted nothing to do with his type.

“Mar’eyir a bora?” Find a job? You turned your attention back to the armor wall that Din made up, the beskar glinting beautifully where the suns shown on it directly, not wanting to deal with the young man anymore.

“Yes.” He responded in Basic, closing the distance between you and reaching for the strap of your bag to gently pull it from you. As he did so, he pressed his helmet to your forehead by way of greeting. The hand he wasn’t holding the bag with hovered over the small of your back as he walked you toward the entrance of the hangar space. He hadn’t touched you since untangling from you earlier in the day and it was thrilling, despite it being so casual. Despite the mental exhaustion that was settling in from a day of interaction with too many people.

“Give me a minute.”  Were the simple words thrown over his shoulder as he guided you through the door and down the steps into the enclosed space. The ship was open, as you had left it, and the side paneling along it was removed to show where the mechanic was working on things. You let him guide you further, toward the ship. He placed your bag town on the makeshift table, beside the one you had already dropped off earlier before turning to face you. He just took in the way you began to dig through it, pulling out a pouch that clinked. You opened it to reveal thin, dark rings of metal. Setting it aside you pulled out a vambrace, one that was made of a dark metal as well, it would fit perfectly over the gloves you adorned.

“I haven’t programmed my chain code into it yet, I’m a little hesitant to, if I’m being honest. But I got one with communication controls.” You held it up to show him with a small grin, rather proud of your find and the cost hadn’t been too bad to get it up and running. The scrubbing and reprogramming had been a bit steep, but it would be worth it to have a scrapped mechanism you could customize for your needs. “It only has short range, but I figured that would be good enough for while you’re out on jobs or I’m away from the ship.”

When no answer came from him, you turned worried eyes over the helmet. Your mouth was open, and words were rushing out before you could stop them. Letting the man in front of you be privy to the overthinking nature that you possessed. Prattling was a nervous habit, one that you had thought you had grown out of being alone a majority of the time, it having turned into stubborn silence in wake of a mental barrage. But something about the man in front of you brought it back to life. Not wanting to seem like a bother or say the wrong thing and then ending up saying a whole lot more than was necessary.

“That is, if you want to keep in touch while separated. I didn’t mean to insinuate that I needed to be able to get ahold of you at all times. You’re a grown man. I’m assuming? I mean, I’ve seen…you…before but you’re rather fit and that doesn’t really reflect age. Oh Maker, I don’t even know how old you are, I might be older than you.” You ducked your gaze, eyes focusing on the cuirass as you felt the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. Self-consciousness taking a hold of you with its gnarled hands and pulling to make your skin feel too tight and uncomfortable.

“Calm, mesh’la.” Din’s deep voice washed over you in an easy chuckle paired with the nickname he favored had your stomach fluttering. He closed the distance and brought a gloved palm grip to rest it atop both of your hands where the vambrace was still in your grip. You hadn’t realized that they had begun to tremble slightly.

“I just- I don’t want to overstep.” 

“It was good for you to get a comm link.” His fingers tangled with your own as he took the vambrace from you and began to inspect it. With the helmet no longer trained on you so directly, it was easier to take a deep breath to recenter. The device beeped to life under his gloved fingers, and he punched in some information before holding moving to fit it over your hand and secured it to your left wrist. He lifted a hand to the right side of his helmet and your comm link blinked to signal an incoming transmission. All set, it seemed. “Your puck had your age displayed, we’re very close.”

He shifted on his feet, creating space as he did so. A weird tension blossomed in the space, putting you on edge. Both of you so consumed by internal conflicts and worries. Of the unknown that had settled over the coming days.

“Don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Okay.”

“Just… be here when I return.”

“O-of course.”

Without another word, the armored man departed.

Being aboard the ship alone was a weird phenomenon. Yes, the Child was still with you, but it was a foreign feeling to be here without the shape and presence of Din Djarin. He had told you that the space was yours as much as it was his, but that hadn’t settled into a concrete thing quite yet. It was still new, all of it and it was overwhelming.

Being out of captivity, being free, traveling, being on a ship. Having a ship be your new settlement of sorts, something you hadn’t ever really considered as you sought out whatever peace you could, too ignorant of ship mechanics and it being too handsome of an investment to make. Breathing out a heavy sigh, you cradled the small figure in your lap. You had been sat for quite a while, meditating. The Child settling into the space of your crossed legs to do the same. It had taken him a long time to settle and focus, as it always did when he wanted to join you, but once he did he had been silent for as long as he was able to.

He was fidgeting now, breaking your own concentration.

Feeling a little foolish, you hit the call button on your vambrace. Heart beating fast as it waited for pickup to make a connection. When it pinged, you startled a little at how quickly the low, full-bodied voice displayed cleanly over the line.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing! Everything is okay.” You had no idea why you were so nervous; it was just a conversation.

“…okay.”

“Um, I was- I was wondering if I could take ad’ika out for a while.” You gathered the Child in the crook of your right arm, his eyes trained on the small speaker Din’s voice was coming from. He cooed as you stood, reaching for the vambrace, but you offered him your fingers instead. He gripped them tight, legs kicking out slightly as he wiggled about. You felt a wide smile pull at your lips as he loosened his grip and you made grabby motions at him, picking at the fabric of his outfit. His giggles were loud, and it made warmth blossom in your chest to hear them so unbridled. Your own soft laughter joining his. “Just for some fresh air! We’re so far from the city center, just around the hangar, so he can see the sunset.”

“That…should be fine.”

“Only if you’re okay with it. He’s in your care.”

“Ad’ika?”

“Oh,” You breathed a gentle laugh at the confusion you detected in his single word. Setting the happy child down atop the makeshift table, you opened a cannister of fruit for him to munch on before moving toward the paneling. You finished your thought as you opened it up to reveal the small kitchen set up and reached to activate the caf brewer, slightly nervous he was going to tell you it was an unnecessary shift. “Figured since we don’t know his name and he doesn’t want to tell me.”

“He talks to you, in actual words?”

“No, no, um, it’s…rather complicated.” You tried not to huff out your exasperation of finding only one pod of caf left in a storage drawer. You popped it into place and set a mug underneath where it would brew from once finished. The clink of the mug was loud, creating a bit of static over the line.

“No words. But talks.”

“…yes.”

“Letting him watch the sunset should be fine.”

“I’ll be on high alert, just want him to not feel trapped here on the ship is all.” When nothing was said in response, you shifted your weight from leg to leg as you stood before the caf machine began to brew with a sputter. “Okay, well, um, thank you.”

The line disconnected.

“Okay, ad’ika, we’re waiting on this drink, and we can go outside.” You turned to smile at him atop the makeshift table, trying to push down the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. His little trill of a response fell on deaf ears. The guilt of having just messed up somehow bubbling up and making it hard to think. You focused on the line of liquid as it cascaded down from the machine into the mug, the noises it was making as it did so to try and center yourself.

Holding a steaming mug in one hand and a small snack in the other, you let the Child walk alongside you down the ramp and through the hangar space. You waved in greeting at the mechanic who was milling about. It seemed like she was about done for the day, the droids gathering things and putting them away in a flurry of movement around her. She returned the wave before disappearing inside.

“We have to be careful, okay?” We aren’t taking anything for you to hide in, so if you get scared I’ll hold you, got it?” You glanced down at him beside you as you walked through the door that led out to the street. He nodded, making little noises as he took in the empty surroundings. With the suns so close to the horizon, about to disappear beneath it, many people were already retired for the day.

You settled yourself against the wall that made up the hangar, facing the direction of the suns as they began to dip down and disappear. Sipping from the mug in your hand as you crossed your legs in front of you, leaving them stretched out from being busy all day. You had tried to understand what the mechanic was doing, asking her questions and to walk you through the basics of what she was doing before you had moved onto other things and looking after the small figure that was currently bustling about in front of you.

He was seated as well, small claws reaching out to play with rocks and watch a scant lizard or bug as it crawled about. Something with a stinger got too close to him and you waved a hand to get it away from him, the tingles of the Force sparking in your palm. That drew his attention back to you, his eyes focused on the snack you had brought out and was resting on your knee. He held a hand out much like you had just done and closed his eyes in concentration. The furrowing of his small brow created deep wrinkles and it made you hold a laugh back at how much like an old man he looked with them. The snack lifted into the air slightly, wobbled, and then fell back to your knee with a muffled thump.

“It’s tough, I know.” You soothed, knowing how hard it was to begin to harness the energy of things. The concentration and focus it took second nature to you at this point. Something that had come back to you easily, you were thankful for, after so many years of the ability being dormant. You raised a hand and motioned for him to give it another try. His eyes closed and he spread his claw wider.

The snack hurdled toward him, too fast for him to catch it and it smacked him in the forehead before falling to the sand. He let out a startled noise as it did, his wide eyes beseeching as he looked at you. You were setting down your mug and rushing over to him as his eyes watered and he began to breathe in a weird staccato.

“Oh, hey, hey, no, no.” Reaching for him, you pulled him to your chest and his claws dug into the fabric of your cloak. “You’re okay, ad’ika.”

You both sat there, watching the sky fade from orange hues to the darkness of night. As stars began to twinkle above, you pushed yourself up and made your way back to the Crest, the small creature fast asleep in your tight embrace.

Deciding on a shower to wash away the day, you wrestled with the notion of whether or not you should disengage the ramp to close up the ship. You trusted the mechanic, but that could only go so far. She said she had engaged the alarm system for the hangar once you returned, letting you know that she had shared it with your husband.

You knew she meant the word as a way of referring to Din, not knowing his name or knowing what else to call him. But that word, that term, it felt like a threat. The last time you had heard it, it had been one and it was triggering as all the ugly details of the last encounter you had with your mother rose up along with the acidic burn of bile in your throat.  

It felt like something was coming alive in your very body, awakening after a long slumber, and stretching its claws up your chest as it unfurled. Something dark and sinister, the weight of it suffocating and making it hard to breathe. It was something you recognized, something you knew too well as it perked up and burrowed into you, like it knew it was home and there to stay. Your head felt light as quick breaths were all you could manage.

Double checking that the door to Din’s personal quarters was locked and the Child was safely inside, you moved into the fresher with hands guiding you along the walls. Locking that door behind you, you turned the water on full blast, cranking the handle to make it as hot as it would go. The first drops of water barely had time to travel down to hit the tile of the stall floor before you were throwing up what little was in your stomach.

Tearing the off, it piled on the floor around you before you stepped into the stall. You hissed as the water hit your skin, the heat and steam of it filling the small room in almost a suffocating way. But it was welcome, the strong of it on your skin as it drowned the thing that was stirring inside. You had sunk to your knees, sitting right underneath the stream of water. Hanging your head, the wet locks of your hair stuck to your body as you got lost in the thoughts of how the day had felt too easy, too normal.

Everything from the way you had woken up to an empty bed after sleeping tangled in the arms of a man you hardly knew to the domesticity of talking to him on the comm link as you and the Child played around. It was all so casual, so domestic, so completely ordinary. And it felt good, to experience normal things, things people took for granted. And that felt bad, the guilt of wanting it to continue. To keep living when for so long you hadn’t wanted to.

You had done so many questionable things in your life, faced so many threats and that was before becoming the shell of a person at the hands of bandits had turned you into, who kept you so drugged up you hadn’t even known where you had been. You didn’t deserve any of it and how could you?

The berating words and actions of your mother having molded into your very psyche reminding you that you were a bad person for choosing to live your life the way you had wanted to at a young age. That choice leading you to a life on the run, to a life of stealing and cheating and hurting others to ensure your own protection. That choice leading to a target on your back that wouldn’t disappear until you took your last breath. It was all your fault, the hand you had been dealt. All a result of wanting to learn how to harness the skill a stranger had noticed in you.

Lightly tracing the scars you had dug into the skin of your thighs, your hands began to shake with wracking sobs. Tears falling fat and heavy from your eyes to coalesce with the steaming water cascading down your body. Eyes unfocused as you tried to watch the way your nails were now digging into the flesh as you gripped your legs so tight your knuckles popped.

Just as you were standing from your seat at the makeshift table, skeleton assembly of what would turn into a set of pauldrons, you sighed. It was late, sleep evading you in wake of your breakdown. To distract yourself, you had set to working with your hands, beginning to work the materials you had gathered into armor for yourself.

The metal rings in various sizes you had purchased earlier were strewn about in small, organized piles alongside two types of pliers, a mandrel, and a pair of snug leather gloves to protect your fingers as you worked. You had purchased rings that were already annealed twice over, before and after the openings were flattened and drifted in the traditional wedge style you preferred over circular. It would turn into a sturdier piece, the strength due to the harder to damage bonding.

Stretching your back, hands on your lower back you paused as faint footsteps sounded outside as someone trekked toward the ship. Shrugging your cloak on over the full outfit you had changed into after your shower, you made sure the Child was secure in the hammock and hit the panel beside the door to close the small space off from the rest of the ship, the mechanism for the lock clicking.

A blaster shot buzzed through the air and you dodged it, the hit making contact with the paneling behind you. It pinged before ricocheting and the single light you had on went out with a pop. A muttered curse was all the warning you had as you turned on your feet and raised a hand, reaching out with the Force to hold whoever had dared to enter the ship in place. The figure looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place them in the sudden darkness of the ship.

The sounds of the person struggling against the hold you had on them were too close for comfort, and you swiped a foot out to kick their feet out from under them. As they went down, they fired something that wasn’t a blaster. The sting of something sharp reverberated down your right arm, tingling as a cool feeling washed through your veins almost immediately.

“Sedative, learned from a friend it would be the only way to take you down.” The voice spoke into the darkness, not registering quite yet in your mind. You cursed, pulling the long needle from where it had penetrated the fabric of your cloak to embed itself into the flesh of your arm. You dropped it to the ground, feeling the coolness of the sedative take over, lighting you up and muddling your brain in a way you hadn’t been in weeks.

You tried to move away, to put the makeshift table between you and the voice, but you ended up leaning heavily on the surface, arms already feeling too heavy to control. The hush of a blade being drawn had your heart beating a little faster, only aiding in the drugs taking over that much faster.

Breath hissing out as the blade sliced into the side of your thigh, you tried to step back but stumbled as your legs felt as if weights had been tied to them. Arms swiping across the table as you tried to balance yourself, sending the metal rings atop it to scatter everywhere with little pings. Vision wavering from focused to fuzzy made it hard to see the rope and cuff links now in the man’s hands, mind too sluggish to listen to your instincts and put up more of a fight. Blinking profusely, your eyes took in younger man Din had left with yesterday. Only Din was nowhere to be seen and the man seemed particularly focused on you.

“Don’t hurt either of them, take me. Turn me in. Let them go, my bounty is high.” You could only watch as he approached you, body too heavy to usher away from him. His response sounded so far away, as if you were struggling to hear him across a vast distance and not a few feet.

“How many times do I have to tell you people, I don’t care about the money.” He snarled, face ugly as it contorted with his anger and continued misunderstanding. He shoved you harshly to the ground, the body that was no longer under your own control going with the movement. The rings scattered over the floor dug into your skin and clothing, stinging as they did so. He threw himself over you, legs heavy on your own as he pinned you to the floor, reaching to secure the cuffs over your wrist. You swiped out as adrenaline sparked at being pinned down, surging up as best you could with bared teeth. He screamed as you raked your nails down the column of his neck as hard as you could manage, drawing blood in thin lines.

With a scowl he took hold of the front of your cloak and slammed your head down to crack against the metal of the floor. You shouted out at the pain that blossomed there, fuzzy vision graying at the edges.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just let them be.” Your words slurred as you begged, too far gone to do anything else, the sedative he used was either high quality or he had used a lot of it. If it was the only way to get him to change his mind, alter the motives he was working off of, then it was an offer you would make. For the sake of the Child, for the sake of his safety with Din. You could faintly sense the tears that were falling from your eyes, the thought of the Child being captured hurting even more than the predicament you were in. You would take on the world for him to have a good life, the chance at a good life.  

“Not lookin’ for that type of action right now, sweetheart.” Your attacker moved to cuff your ankles together over the leather of your boots. The rope in his hands going around them next. “But Mando is in for a surprise if he ever finds his way out of the desert. His quarries are mine now.”

The look of triumph that could be glimpsed from the faint light seeping into the ship was the last thing you saw as your vision blacked out completely.

The run was rising just as the mount Din had secured entered the outskirts of Mos Eisley. The deep navy-blue of the night sky fading on the horizon to the muted haze of peach sunlight that was cresting over in the signal of a new day. Everything was quiet, the city asleep in the early hour. Outside the hangar entrance was the speeder Din had been comfortable leaving behind with Callican, foolishly he muses now. Whatever had transpired between the young man and Fennec Shand had inspired his abandonment of the job to capture her. Din could only hope that Callican hadn’t done anything too foolish or rash in his shifted focus.

Brandishing his blaster, Din entered the hangar space with quiet steps.  

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dividers by the lovely saradika

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 1) Chapter Two

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Two: The Mudhorn

Summary: Mando and his "assets" encounter Jawas and a Mudhorn, and he begins to learn why the Empire is so interested in the two kids.

            The sun was a veritable blaze about Mando, (Y/N), and the Child arrived back at the Razorcrest. Unfortunately, it had been enough time for the Jawas to arrive and disassemble many of the mechanical pieces of Mando’s ship.

            Mando crouched and pulled out his shotgun, gazing through the scope. (Y/N) pulled the Child’s cradle closer to them and watched as Mando shot one of the Jawas stealing his ship. The rest cried out and scrambled for their rover as he took out another. Mando ran down the slope of the hill and tried to chase after the rover, firing a round at one of the gas tanks.

            (Y/N) ran after the cradle as it followed Mando. They could take the chance to run, but they had nowhere to go and no weapon to defend themself. Plus, it seemed that other bounty hunters were after them, and at least Mando didn’t seem eager to hurt them.

            Mando tried to climb up the side of the rover, but the Jawas shot him with a stun charge, and he fell the ground below. The rover drove off as he groaned and sat up. He turned to see the Child staring at him curiously and (Y/N) sat on a rock.

            “That’s your ship, isn’t it?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Mando, standing and walking towards the Razorcrest.

            Everything was gone, from the metal plates of his walls to the guns in his storage. Electricity sparked at the ends of torn cables. Mando attempted to start the engines, but without proper power, they whirred lifelessly. He sighed in frustration.

            “What’re you going to do?” said (Y/N), leaning in from outside.

            “There’s an Ugnaught with a farm,” said Mando. “Not far off.” He glanced at the teenager, who was lifting the Child back into his cradle. “Let’s go.”

            (Y/N) followed him silently, every once in a while glancing at where their dagger was strapped into Mando’s belt. They didn’t dare try for it, though. The bounty hunter could kill them in a moment. They were lucky he hadn’t already. So (Y/N) just stayed silent and watchful for danger as the three of them walked as the sun set.

            Finally, just as the sun was lowering below the horizon, they arrived at a small farm.

            “I thought you were dead,” said the Ugnaught, suspending on a ladder and working on a mechanical device. He turned to face Mando and grew quiet when he saw the Child waddling around on the ground and (Y/N) standing by Mando’s side. The farmer descended the ladder. “These who are who’re causing all the fuss?”

            “Yes,” said Mando. “They’re children.”

            “It is better to deliver them alive, then,” said the Ugnaught.

            (Y/N) crossed their arms at the discussion. Even though they’d been dealing with it for quite some time now, they’d never quite adjusted to having people speak about them as if they weren’t there.

            “My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here,” said Mando.

            “Stripped. Not destroyed,” said the Ugnaught. “The Jawas steal. They don’t destroy.”

            “Stolen or destroyed, makes no difference to me,” said Mando, taking a screwdriver and fiddling with the parts of his armor affected by the electric pulse. As he turned to his arm; he saw (Y/N) picking the Child up again from where he was trying to catch a frog and placing him in the cradle. “They’re protected by their crawling fortress. There’s no way to recover the parts.”

            “You can trade,” said the Ugnaught.

            “With Jawas? Are you out of your mind?” questioned Mando.

            “I will take you to them,” said the Ugnaught. “I have spoken.”

            Mando looked back at the assets. The Ugnaught wouldn’t let him argue, anyways. He stared as the Child crawled back out of cradle and was in the process of swallowing a live frog. Next to him, (Y/N) was clearly testing out which of the tools the Ugnaught kept around the farm could be used as a weapon.

            “Put it down,” said Mando, half to the Child and half to (Y/N). The Child ignored him and gulped down the frog, looking quite pleased with himself. (Y/N) scowled and put down the drill bit they’d been weighing in their hand.

l

            It was slow going, but the Ugnaught guided them to where the Jawas had parked their crawling fortress. They chattered away as they saw the Ugnaught approaching, but he spoke in Jawa. Unfortunately, the Jawa picked up guns and began approaching.

            “They really don’t like you for some reason,” said the Ugnaught, glancing back at Mando.

            “He disintegrated at least two of them,” pointed out (Y/N).

            The Jawas clamored and gestured at them. “You need to drop your rifle,” translated the Ugnaught.

            “I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion,” said Mando.

            “Then you are not getting your parts back,” said the Ugnaught.

            Mando sighed. “Fine.” He put down his rifle in the cart.

            “And the blaster,” said the Ugnaught. He walked away, beginning to converse in Jawa as Mando put down his blaster. He turned and gestured for Mando to join them.

            (Y/N) watched him go with the Child. He cooed at them, and they glanced down. (Y/N) could guess what he was trying to communicate. “No, I don’t know what’s happening.”

            “Ah?” The Child cocked his head, blinking at them.

            “Exactly,” said (Y/N).

            Mando stood and turned towards them, motioning for them to come over. (Y/N) sighed. “Let’s go, kid.”

l

            Mando sat in the cramped driver’s box of the Jawa’s rover. The Child was in his cradle beside the Mandalorian, and (Y/N) was crouched on his other side. The Jawas cackled every time they went over a hill and caused the humanoids to jolt and nearly hit the ceiling. (Y/N) nearly did, but luckily for their head, Mando reached out with a hand and kept them in their seat. (Y/N) nearly thanked him, but the ominous knowledge that he was just keeping them alive until he was paid weighed heavy, and they were instantly on edge, pushing themself as far away from him as possible. The movement was not lost on Mando.

            Finally, the rover arrived before a mass of cliffs and a cave opening. The hull opened, and the Child, (Y/N), and Mando descended. Apparently, Mando had to find an egg the Jawas wanted. A strange request, but then again, (Y/N) would do anything to just have some fruit from back on Ushti.

            Their heart clenched painfully, and their hands curled into fists. The Empire’s remnants had burnt their farms. (Y/N) would find no fruit. Their gaze flitted to the knife in Mando’s belt. All they had was their mother’s dagger, and even that had been taken.

            The Child whimpered as they approached the cave. (Y/N) paused for a moment, too, a deep-seated feeling of dread settling in their stomach.

            “Stay here with the Child,” ordered Mando.

            (Y/N) obeyed, taking ahold of the cradle. They didn’t want to enter anyways. Their every instinct told them to leave the area. As Mando entered, (Y/N) walked to the side with the Child. A few moments later, a growl rumbled up from within the darkness Mando has descended into. A second after, the buzz of blaster shots echoed up, and red lights flickered from the energy pulses.

            Mando was thrown from the cave opening by the creature living within. (Y/N) scrambled to the side and pulled the cradle towards some rocks with them. A large mudhorn lumbered out from within the cave, huffing angrily at the intrusion into its territory.

            The Child whined and ducked farther down into his cradle, and (Y/N) glanced between Mando and the approaching creature. Mando lifted his rifle and aimed at the mudhorn, but the mud sealed it shut; he couldn’t load it with ammunition. The mudhorn charged and hit him square in the chest with its horn, sending him flying.

            The Child cried out softly, and (Y/N) winced. They knew the attack had to hurt, even through Mando’s armor. They tensed as the mudhorn turned towards them, and as it huffed and made to charge, (Y/N) pushed the cradle away. At the same moment, Mando threw out a wire, a small barb attaching to (Y/N)’s shirt. It dragged them out of harms way and closer to Mando.

            The mudhorn roared and turned towards the pair of humanoids again. It charged Mando, and he hit it with a flamethrower, but it only served to anger the creature, which slammed down onto him. He fired again, and the mudhorn jerked away and back away for a moment. Mando scrambled to his feet, slipping slightly in the mud and trying to get his bearings, but the mudhorn was charging again already. Mando was thrown into the air and hit the floor hard. This time, he wasn’t as quick to stand. He remained prone.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. If the mudhorn attacked again, Mando would die. As much as (Y/N) hated being hunted, they didn’t want him to die. At least Mando had given them and the Child some human respect compared to the way other people had treated them on their way to the Imperial Warlord after them.

            Mando struggled to his knees and faced the mudhorn as it growled and huffed. It was going to charge. He groaned and pulled out a knife. It would be useless, but it was all he had.

            The mudhorn roared and charged. And then it froze. Mando looked up and saw the mudhorn struggling against an unknown force. To the side, the Child had a hand raised, and his eyes closed. He was stopping the mudhorn. That was, until exhaustion took over and he fell back into his cradle.

            Mando started as the mudhorn slipped to the ground and fell over. The Child had…powers? The momentary distraction fled him as the mudhorn pulled itself to its feet. Now it was angrier, but at least Mando had a moment to regain his bearings and grab for his rifle again. It had at least a longer blade than his knife. The mudhorn pawed the ground and charged, and Mando lifted the rifle. The mudhorn turned towards the Child who had stopped it before, roaring as it approached the kids.

            The mudhorn hit an invisible wall was thrown backwards as (Y/N) threw out their arm. The force tossed it into the canyon wall as Mando watched. It slumped to the ground, dead from the force of the hit.

            Mando stared at the two assets he had been commissioned to bring back. They had abilities beyond his understand. Just what had he gotten into? He approached (Y/N) and the Child carefully, his rifle by his side.

            (Y/N) looked at him, looking drained and warily eying the rifle. They raised a hand, prepared for a fight even if they had no idea how to summon their abilities. They only had their emotions.

            “Are you going to kill us now?” questioned (Y/N), narrowing their eyes and trying to seem tough even as they swayed on their feet.

            Mando strapped the rifle onto his back. “No.”

             (Y/N)’s hands fell. The slight relief began to wash away their adrenaline, and exhaustion replaced it. “Oh,” was all they could say. Their eyes rolled back into their head, and they collapsed to the ground.

            Mando stared down at the Child and (Y/N). They had helped him even though they knew he was going to give them to his Client. In a way, it made sense. They were children. Even the Ushti teenager, who had undoubtedly seen terrible travesties and was prepared to fight for their life at every moment, in the end was trying to help others. They helped the Child. Both were still just kids.

            He sighed. Mando clicked the cradle and shut it so the sun wouldn’t bother the sleeping Child. Then, he crouched and lifted (Y/N) up and placed them in the shade. For the first time since he’d found them, they weren’t waiting for danger or a fight. They weren’t scared or angry. They were at peace.

            Mando set off back into the cave. He needed to get that egg and get off this planet. This job was becoming more troublesome by the minute.

l

            (Y/N) awoke to find themselves lying in the cart. Mando sat by the side, and the Child slept on the other. Piled behind them were the pieces of Mando’s ship the Jawas had returned. (Y/N) didn’t move. There was no point, after all. They closed their eyes again. They only had so much relative freedom left before they were given to the remnants of the empire to be turned into a weapon or experiment. Not to mention, exhaustion still rested heavy on them. They needed to recover again.

            “Are they still sleeping?” asked the Ugnaught, glancing back and seeing Mando looking at the kids.

            “Yes,” said Mando.

            “Were they injured?” questioned the Ugnaught.

            “I don’t think so. Not physically,” said Mando, gazing down at the assets.

            “Explain it to me again,” said the Ugnaught. “I still don’t understand what happened.”

            “Neither do I,” said Mando, his voice softer than usual. “They just raised their hands, and the mudhorn stopped.”

            “Hm,” hummed the Ugnaught.

            Sleep washed over (Y/N) once again.

l

            When (Y/N) awoke again, the sun had fallen and risen. Once again, it sat high above and blazed over the desert below. The Child and them had been situated in the shade while the Ugnaught and Mando fixed the Razorcrest. It was now whole.

            The Ugnaught and Mando walked up from their finished work. Mando saw (Y/N) was awake.

            “Come on. We’re leaving,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) stood up, and the cradle followed them as they stepped onto the Razorcrest. The end was coming for them; they knew it.

            “I can’t thank you enough,” said Mando to the Ugnaught. “Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.”

            The reward on my head, thought (Y/N), feeling themself lose any relaxation the sleep had given them and sliding back into their state of “ready to fight for their life.”

            “I cannot accept,” said the Ugnaught. “You are my guest, and I am therefore in your service.”

            “I could use a crew member of your ability, and I can pay handsomely,” said Mando.

            “I am honored, but I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude,” said the Ugnaught.

            “I understand. Then all I can offer you is my thanks,” said Mando.

            “And I offer mine,” said the Ugnaught. “Thank you for bringing peace to my valley.” He walked out of the Razorcrest and mounted his blurrg.

            (Y/N) looked out on the view of the lovely desert, home to so much beauty and pain. I guess our presence did cause problems.

            The Ugnaught raised his hand to gestured goodbye. “And good luck with the children. May they survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken.”

            (Y/N) turned away. Speaking as if they weren’t there again…

            Mando closed the hull doors. He walked to the cockpit, and the door slid open. The cradle floated behind him, and (Y/N) followed. There wasn’t anywhere else to go. The cradle settled into place over one seat, and (Y/N) took another while Mando sat in the pilot’s seat.

            “We’re going to the Client now,” said (Y/N). It wasn’t a question; they knew the answer.

            “Don’t try anything,” said Mando.

            “If I thought I could really escape, I would have tried by now,” snapped (Y/N). They spoke strongly, but a tiredness tinged their tone in a way only life-weary adults should speak.

            Mando glanced back. A teenager that finished with everything, so tired and exhausted and yet still knowing their death was coming and unable to do anything. A memory of himself waiting for his parents when the Empire attacked, alone with no path, rose unbidden in his mind.

            Mando forced it back down. He had a job to do.

l

            (Y/N) watched as the Child climbed out of his cradle and dropped to the floor. They had very little (nothing) to do but dread their arrival on whatever the planet the imperial officers were hiding out in, so they just sat back and watched the Child fuss or Mando navigating. Until this whole mess, they’d never been off Ushti, so seeing all the stars and planets pass was strange experience because it was both the first and last time they’d see the vast freedom and beauty of space.

            A buzz drew their attention, they looked up to see Mando receiving a transmission. A man stood in the small hologram.

            “Mando, Greef Karga here. I’ve received your transmission. Wonderful news,” he said. “Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the Client.” Karga chuckled. “I have no idea if he wants to eat them or put them on display, but he’s very antsy.”

            Beside Mando, the Child had climbed up and was grabbing at the dome of one of the levels, trying to pull the metal ball off.

            “Safe passage. You know where to find me,” said Karga before the transmission ended.

            Mando reached out and took the metal ball from the Child as he gnawed on it. “It’s not a toy,” he said, picking the Child up by his cloak and setting him back in his cradle.

            The Child cooed mournfully, and Mando frowned beneath his helmet. In his peripheral vision, he could see (Y/N) pick up a spare bolt from when he and the Ugnaught had fixed the Razorcrest and hand it to the Child, who brightened as he held it.

            Mando was not enjoying this job.

Taglist:

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@dmitrytherat

[the-marshals-wife]

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.

[dragonrider9905]

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!

[skellymom]

"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. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

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[the-blind-assassin-12]

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! :)

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[apocalyp-tech-a]

FORCE AND SENSITIVITY - CHAPTER 37 - A DOUBLE WAKE

Goosebumps prickled over your skin as the immense hatred you harbored gave way to heightened senses. Very slowly, you turned your head to the left. A tall, lanky trooper stood ten meters away. His armor was dark gray, almost black, and it had a very familiar shape. He stared at the wall blankly as you had until he felt he was being watched. You saw the little scope attached to his helmet rotate as his verdant visored face turned slowly towards you.

You subtly turned away and stared back at the CT-numbers, letting your gaze get lost in the crimson stone in between. When you sensed he had turned to leave and head into the HQ, you watched him disappear, but what did not disappear was your curiosity. Why was your reaction to that particular trooper's essence in the Force so intense? You stood there pondering for many moments before side-eyeing CT-0105's number and replacing your lightsaber hilt to its place on your back.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46969504/chapters/158903755