#starfighter group

[queen-scribbles]

Looking at the next batch of GS objective and I can't help but feel they're trying to push grouped content again... >.>

[sw5w]

Red Group! Blue Group!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:50:12

[gloomwitchwrites]

Frozen Ground: Part 1 (Din Djarin x Female Reader)

Content & Warnings: romantic fluff, love at first sight, Mandalorian culture

Word Count: 5.4k

Din travels to a farming planet to recruit a reclusive group of Mandalorians to help retake Mandalore. The snowy season is starting, and the locals are preparing for their winter observance. While waiting for the Mandalorian covert to come to a decision, Din spends time with the local population, finding a bit of comfort with a particular someone.

A/N: Part of the Winter 2023 Collection

Part 2

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: buir – father, mother Mando’ade – Mandalorians (plural) vod – brother, sister, comrade

The N1 Starfighter exits hyperspace and cruises through Itera airspace.

Grogu snoozes softly in Din’s lap. His small body is curled up in a ball, and his face is turned into Din’s chest plate as he slumbers. The foundling has been asleep the entire way to Itera, and he shows no sign of waking any time soon.

Din glances away from his foundling and out the N1’s viewport. A small twang of nervousness coils in the pit of his stomach as he observes the quickly approaching planet. It’s not the planet itself that worries Din, but why he was sent here in the first place. It is the task that Bo-Katan Kryze placed upon him with confidence that sits heavy on his shoulders.

Bo-Katan is uniting the clans. She is calling back the tribes in an effort to reclaim Mandalore. She heard a rumor that a reclusive tribe of Mandalorians dwell on Itera. Din is supposed to find them, and convince them to come back with him to Nevarro.

That is all the information he has. Bo-Katan had little intel to give. Din has no idea if these Mandalorians are more like his tribe, or if they lean more towards the ideals that Bo-Katan and her kin follow.

As Mandalorians, this tribe on Itera should welcome him. But Din knows that isn’t always the case. It wasn’t that long ago that Din had his own misgivings against fellow Mandalorians who walked the path differently than he.

When he first met Bo-Katan Kryze and her Nite Owls, Din shunned them. Even when they stepped in to save his foundling, and then later when a group of Quarren attacked him, Din was still reluctant to engage with them.

It’s not his proudest moment, and since then, much about his life has changed. The way he sees the galaxy, and his understanding of what it means to be a Mandalorian has shifted significantly in the last few years. While he holds tightly to his ideals, he knows that his way is not the only way.

Mandalorians should not hide in the dark any longer.

The cloudy expanse of Itera becomes clearer as Din cruises closer. Itera is a fertile farming planet located on the edge of the Middle Rim. Din rummaged around in some public achieves to scrounge up any information he could about it. According to the information he did manage to locate, Itera is relatively peaceful and mostly inhabited by small farming communities.

Even though Bo-Katan lacked information on who these Mandalorians are, she was able to provide Din with an estimated range of coordinates. She told him that they might be located within this range, but wasn’t entirely sure if her intel was reliable.

He’s worked with less.

Din punches in the numbers and the navigation system focuses in on a small bit of land in the northern hemisphere.

The N1’s engine purrs, and Grogu turns over in Din’s lap. The foundling does not wake.

Din’s ship breaks through the atmosphere and effortlessly transitions into the gray cloud cover. The clouds spit Din out over dreary farmland. Below him, droids and people work the land.

Din does not see any buildings that indicate a settlement. He checks the navigation system again and it reveals his suspicions. The coordinates Bo-Katan gave him cover too much land. He’ll need to tighten the search.

“Kriff me,” mutters Din, as he clears the coordinates from the nav system. “R5, scan the surface. Let’s find civilization.”

R5 chirps, and then a little antenna pops out of its head, spinning slowly in a circle. Din reduces his speed over the farmland, waiting for R5 to give him an answer. After a few minutes, the antenna retreats, and then the navigation system lights up with new coordinates.

Din follows the set path. While most of what Din sees is farmland, buildings start to appear in small intervals. At first, it’s just one or two, and then a cluster at a time. Before long, the wall of a settlement appears. There is open land to the left that Din deicides to land on.

He brings the N1 down softly.

Grogu still doesn’t stir. The little womprat has his right hand in his mouth, and a little line of drool runs down the back Grogu’s palm. Sighing, Din wipes it away.

“R5, what’s the temperature outside?” asks Din quietly as he watches a few swirls of snow drift down from the gray clouds. They land on the glass of the N1 and immediately melt.

R5 responds in a series of binary and Din sighs.

It’s far too cold for Grogu to be walking around for long periods of time. The snowy season has arrived on this planet, and Grogu will need something warmer to wear.

Slowly, Din releases the hatch and cold air drifts in. Using the blanket from Grogu’s pram, Din wraps the foundling in it, gently laying him down in the cockpit seat. Din steps out onto the wing and then the hard ground as the hatch closes.

He turns to R5. “Keep an eye on him while I’m gone.” R5 beeps in reply and Din heads toward the open gates.

The wood wall of the settlement seems more decorative than functional, roughly stopping at Din’s chest. Once Din approaches the entrance, he notices that there are no gates at all. It’s entirely open.

Strolling down the main street, Din realizes rather quickly that no one avoids him. It’s the exact opposite. Every person he passes greets Din with a friendly “hello” or nodding of the head before going about their day.

It’s bizarre. Strange. And it momentarily disorients him.

Din thought that he might ask around, see if he could find someone willing to talk to him. But every friendly face only causes him to question who he needs to speak to on locating the Mandalorian covert. No one shies away or avoids looking directly at his helmet. Each person is bold and unafraid of him.

Is the Mandalorian covert known to these people? Do they interact with them frequently?

Perhaps. It would explain why no one seems frightened of him.

Din enters deeper into the settlement, seeking out a cantina or public establishment where he might find information. Not finding any such place on the main road, Din tracks back to the very front of the settlement, deciding to head east and take a look around.

Rounding a corner, he hears the distinct sound of laughter. It’s not one person, or even a few, but a low roar like a small crowd. Din keeps walking, tracking the sound, coming across a small building that hardly looks big enough to hold a drinking establishment. In addition, the door is just red fabric handing from the top of the door frame.

The laughter comes again, and it’s much louder than before. He’s in the right spot.

With all the confidence Din can muster, he strides up to the curtain, pushing it aside and he steps into the building.

Din comes to a grinding halt, nearly tripping on his own feet.

This is not a cantina or anything similar.

A group of women, nearly fifteen in total, occupy the space. They all have large canvas sacks next to them, each one full of something different. Some look like they’re full of flower petals while others appear to hold bright red berries. The women vary in age. Most of them are older than Din, but there are a few who look to be about his age, give or take a few years.

They glance up but keep working, several of them smiling softly at him.

Din feels like an unwanted intruder even though the women appear calm and indifferent to his presence. He mumbles a “sorry” intended to back out the way he came, but the moment his boot slides backward, one of the women stands, her full attention on him.

“How can I help you, Mandalorian?”

You dust a few petals off your apron, missing the one in your hair, and approach Din, hands clasped in front of you. Din’s heart temporarily stutters to a stop before revving into a thudding beat he can feel in his ears. You’re pretty, but that isn’t the only thing he notices. You’re delicate lines and curves appeal to him in a way that trigger’s his protective instinct.

The flash of feeling, this need Din suddenly exhibits flashes bright and hot before his brain catches up and tries to smother it down to cooling embers.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Din tries to back out again but you only push in, and Din’s hand relexify forms a fist in an attempt to thwart the growing need to touch you.

“There is no interruption. How can I be of service to you?” Your head tilts to the right slightly, and the eagerness on your face sends blood to his groin.

Din’s eyes roam all over your body, but his eyes keep going back to the lone petal that’s tangled in the strands of your hair.

The other women still work, none of them glancing in Din’s direction. He decides to seek help, knowing it might not do much.

“There is a Mandalorian covert on this planet that I’m searching for. Do you know where I might find them?”

“Oh,” you murmur. Your eyes round slightly, and your lips part in surprise. “I didn’t realize—I thought you—” You shake your head and the petal in your hair stays put.

“Is there anyone here that might know?”

The gentle surprise morphs into amusement. “Everyone knows where they are.” The corners of your mouth curve up into a soft smile and Din nearly melts under that gaze. He is so absorbed in your beauty that your words are the last thing to catch up to him.

Everyone knows where they are?

Din does not have the chance to follow-up, you’re already talking, telling him exactly what he needs to know. “Just to the north of here. There’s a forested area where the covert lives.”

This is unusual, and Din is slightly unsure whether or not he can trust what he might find once he ventures in that direction.

“Do you know where exactly?”

You shake your head. “We do not go in. They like their privacy, and we are respectful of that.”

This is better news. The two groups must interact frequently. It would explain why everyone in town isn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not from around here?” you ask, curiosity tinging your tone.

“No,” replies Din. “I’m not.”

Your gaze softens. “If no one has, allow me to formally welcome you.”

Without thinking—without pausing to reconsider—Din reaches toward you, his gloved fingers plucking the petal from your hair. He presents it to you, open palmed.

Delicately, you lift it, rubbing it between your fingers. With your gaze on the petal, Din takes a step back, the curtain brushing against his back. You glance up, and Din inclines his head, disappearing quickly before he does something he’ll regret.

Din still burns beneath his armor even after he arrives back at the N1. Grogu is still sleeping, and his ship is entirely untouched. Din is careful with the foundling when he settles back into the cockpit.

He relays the information to R5 who promptly scans the area, sending new coordinates to the navigation system. Once clear, Din follows the trail north, finding the forest you mentioned. Din circles around a few times, eventually settling on a flat spot of land just outside the tree line. Din lowers the N1 to the planet’s surface. Grogu stirs in his lap but doesn’t wake.

He leaves Grogu behind again with R5, knowing that he can come back for Grogu later. The droid will look after him until Din can assess the situation.

As Din approaches the tree line, he pauses, surveying the ground around him. At first glance there are no footprints of even animal prints. He engages the scanner in his helmet. The moment it switches on, his screen lights up with glowing boot prints. They are everywhere, moving in so many directions that Din cannot find a pattern.

Frowning, Din switches over to another scanner. This one seeks out what only Mandalorians leave behind for others of their kind to find. He sweeps the scanner over the ground, and then the trees. He comes up empty.

Sighing, Din starts walking, stepping past the tree line and tries again, this time doing a slow sweep of the ground and trees. The hard ground crunches under his boots, and it is incredibly quiet, the only sound is the whistling wind.

On a tree in the distance, a soft glow catches Din’s attention in the scanner. He pauses, takes one step back for a better view. It’s a glowing Mythosaur with an arrow beneath it pointing to the right.

This is his lead. This is his break. You were telling the truth.

Din heads toward the glowing symbol and then follows the direction the arrow indicates, scanning the area for any other markers. He locates another that directs him deeper into the trees. It leads to a large rock formation. The stone slabs are layered over each other like a twisted crown.

There, glowing bright against the gray rock, is another Mythosaur.

“Hail, vod.”

Din whirls around, his hand on his blaster. The only thing that stays his hand from drawing the weapon is the use of the word vod.

A male Mandalorian drops from a tree branch and strides forward, stopping a few feet away from Din. His armor is dented in a few places and painted in various green tones that emulate the trees.

No wonder Din didn’t see him.

The man has not drawn his weapon, which means he does not see Din as a threat. But why would he? Mandalorians are stronger together, and any reunion, even between tribes, is a joyous one.

Din immediately removes his hand from his blaster, standing tall and proud. He has a job to do. “My name is Din Djarin. I’ve come on behalf of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze.”

The green-clad Mandalorian crosses his arms. “I see,” he replies, tone grim. “And what does Lady Kryze want with us?”

Better to get it out now in case he’s turned away. “She is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

The man is quiet for a beat before he answers. “And she wishes for us to join her?”

“She does.”

The Mandalorian nods, and drops his arms, striding forward. “Well, Din Djarin. You are welcome in our enclave, and we will hear what you have to say.” He presents his hand and Din clasps it. “I am Crix Lera. Welcome to our home.”

Crix releases Din’s hand. He brushes past Din and heads to the rock.

Din follows, and notices a small opening that Crix disappears inside. The space isn’t tight but the formation of the natural rock hides the entrance. You’d need to know exactly where it is to see it.

Din slides through the opening, only to find himself in a small tunnel. Crix walks ahead, and Din follows on his heels along the path. They don’t walk for long. The small tunnel begins to widen, and then opens up into a large communal area.

The first thing Din immediately notices are the lack of faces. Everyone wears a helmet except for a few small children. The communal area is circular, and the center of the room is lower than the rest of the floor. There is a fire burning there, the smoke curling upward to exit through a naturally formed ventilation shaft. In the rocky ceiling are small cut outs that let in some natural light.

When Din enters the area on Crix’s heels, several people pause and glance up, watching the duo as Crix walks along the edge of the room. Din takes this time to take a closer look at the Mandalorians he’s been sent to speak with.

They all appear healthy. Their armor is relatively clean and in good repair. The ratio of men to women is fairly equal, and the number of foundlings is much larger than his tribe’s. Din’s gaze passes over a woman standing by the far wall with a man and a small child. She’s clutching her belly, and that is when Din notices the slight bulge underneath her chest plate.

“You’ll meet with our armorer and tribe leaders,” says Crix over his shoulder, drawing Din’s attention away from the slowly growing crowd of Mandalorians.

“Do they make all the decisions?”

Crix shakes his head. “No. We make them as a group. But when it comes to matters pertaining to the whole clan, they are the ones who mediate the discussions. We will often look to them for final guidance.”

Din does not reply. It’s similar to how his own tribe operates, but he still has too many questions.

Crix guides Din to a small cut in the rock wall. It’s an archway, and it deposits them into a much smaller chamber. A simple forge sits in the center of the room. A Mandalorian Armorer and a child stand together near a workbench. The child is young but old enough to start their training. The two of them talk softly.

On the opposite side of the room, another Mandalorian hammers away at some armor. It’s clear that this is still a child, perhaps a teenager, and must be an apprentice of some kind because his armor is like that of the armorer’s.

The armorer and child both look up when Din and Crix enter the room. Din hangs back near the archway as Crix addresses the armorer.

“We have a visitor, Vikal. This is Din Djarin. Sent to us by Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. He says she is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

At the mention of retaking Mandalore, the apprentice pauses mid-swing to glance over at Din. The small child at Vikal’s hip shifts slightly, clearly nervous.

Vikal sets the vambrace he’s holding on top of the workbench. He turns toward the apprentice. “Darro. Take your brother and leave us.”

Darro immediately responds, heading in their direction.

“But buir!” protests the child, his little fist tugging on his father’s hand.

“Hush. Go with your brother.” Vikal places a hand on the child’s shoulder just as Darro presents his hand. The child takes it, and Din steps to the side as they pass through the archway.

Once they leave, Vikal steps out from around the workbench and strides forward, pausing just a few feet away from Din. Vikal’s armor and clothes are all black. It’s almost like looking into the void of space. He’s tall, too. Perhaps as tall or even surpassing Paz Vizsla in size.

“Yours?” asks Din, using the question to learn a little bit about the tribe’s practices.

“Mine,” confirms Vikal. But he doesn’t elaborate, and Din decides not to say anything more. “Have you just arrived?” inquires Vikal. “From Mandalore?”

“No,” answers Din. “I came from Nevarro.”

“That is far.”

Vikal closes the distance, his helmet moving with him as he clearly observers Din’s armor. It is not an objectifying look, but an appreciation. “You wear fine work.”

“The armorer of my tribe forged it for me. I am honored by it.”

“This is the Way,” states Vikal.

“This is the Way,” replies Din.

Vikal inclines his head and takes a step back. “You are our guest here. You shall have our hospitality before we speak on more serious matters. As warriors, we are always so quick to take action. Rest. Eat. We will proceed from there.” He turns to Crix. “See to it that Din Djarin has a private room and a hot meal.”

Crix nods, and he and Din depart.

In his private room, Din removes his helmet, and eats.

The food is hot. Fresh. So different from the plain rations he’s used to eating with his tribe. Din wants to know more about this one. He is curious to their ways. When Crix comes for him, the two return to the main communal area. The entire tribe is there, including all the younglings. It is then that he notices several Mandalorians clutching infants.

Din scans the crowd and his heart drops into his stomach.

R5 is here. The droid is on Vikal’s left side. On the armorer’s right, sitting on the floor near his boots, is Grogu. The foundling has a wooden bowl before him. He reaches in, and lifts a handful of something that Din doesn’t recognize and shoves it all into his mouth.

Din immediately aims for Grogu. Seeming to sense him, Grogu glances up and coos, his food covered hands reaching for Din.

“I assume this one is yours?” asks Vikal as Din lifts Grogu and holds the little womprat up to his face. Din checks him over but the foundling is fine. No signs of injury expect the food that’s smeared all over the child’s hands and face.

“Yes,” sighs Din. Crix holds out a hand, indicating he should take a seat. Din does so but he puts Grogu back on the floor. The foundling immediately crawls toward the bowl.

“Your foundling and the droid arrived not too long ago. Found us quite easily. Impressive for one so young.”

Din smiles softly behind the helmet.

Vikal rubs his knees and then stands, striding forward, stopping before the fire. The entire room quiets.

“Mando’ade! We welcome Din Djarin.” Vikal turns toward Din and extends his arm in Din’s direction. The Mandalorians in attendance beat their fists against their chests three times before dropping their arms. “He brings us an important message.”

Vikal retreats, stopping before Din. “Approach, vod. We will hear you.”

Din stands slowly. Grogu’s head tilts to the side, watching Din, his mouth full of food. Din walks to the center of the room just shy of the fire.

“I am Din Djarin. My tribe lives on Nevarro. I have come before you at the behest of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze. She is rallying the clans in an effort to return to and reclaim our ancestral home world of Mandalore. She sent me to ask you if you are willing to join our efforts.”

Din pauses and every single person in the room is watching him, saying nothing. He swallows, knowing that he’ll need to say more to convince them to join.

“I know that I am in no position to ask this of any of you. But we have lived in the dark for too long. Our people are scattered. Like stars in the galaxy. Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again. So that our culture may flourish and our children can feel what is it to play in the sunlight.”

The Mandalorians around him chatter softly, but Din cannot differentiate between their conversations. He turns toward Vikal, and the man stands. “Is Lady Kryze certain of success?” he asks, addressing Din. “Mandalorians are few, and our preservation is important. Can she guarantee that there will not be needless death?”

No.

Din sighs, his shoulders heaving slightly. “I cannot give you any such certainties.”

Another Mandalorian stands. It is a man, and his armor is a deep red. “That planet is cursed. The air is unbreathable and nothing grows. We have all heard the stories. Why should we go back to a dead planet?”

“This is not true,” says Din vehemently. “I have been to the surface. I have seen Mandalore with my own eyes. The air is breathable. Life is possible.”

The quiet chatter heightens. Becomes a dull roar.

“What is Lady Kryze’s plan for when the planet is retaken?” This time, a woman asks the question.

“Her goal is the Great Forge. That will be our place of operations and base for reconstruction.”

Din will tell them the truth. There is no reason to hide anything.

“But will we have a place there? Can we call Mandalore home? Or must we return to this planet?”

“All Mandalorians are welcome.”

Vikal nods and stands. “Does anyone else have questions for Din Djarin?” No one replies. “Thank you for relaying Lady Kryze’s message. You have given us much to consider.” Vikal addresses the room. “We will reflect on this, and then convene tomorrow evening for deeper discussion.”

The crowd of Mandalorians incline their heads and place their fists over their hearts. When their arms drop back to their sides, many start to get up and leave.

This isn’t the outcome Din was hoping for. He thought he might receive a quick answer, or even an indication that they are willing to join.

Crix comes up beside Din. “Decisions are never made quickly. You’ll likely be here a few days.”

“As long as I can return with an answer.”

“I’ll come for you tomorrow morning. The local population is holding a festival to celebrate the coming cold.”

Din thinks back to you and the women in that small dwelling. He didn’t exactly get a good look at what you were doing, but Din can only assume the two are connected.

Din tips is head to the side. “You mingle with them?”

“To an extent,” shrugs Crix. “They have no standing army or protection. We look after them, and they take care of us. It has kept our tribe safe for many years.”

Din nods and then bends at the knees to pick up Grogu, cradling the foundling close to his heart.

Crix fetches Din in the early hours of the morning. Grogu is left behind with the other younglings. Din is reluctant to do so, but Crix is persuasive, and Grogu is visibly happy to be amongst other children.

The two men head back through the tunnel, stepping out into the forest. The sun is starting to rise but it’s hard to see through the gray clouds. It snowed overnight, and there is a dusting across the forest floor.

Three Mandalorians mingle just outside the exit. Two men and one woman. They greet Crix with firm handshakes.

“This is Din Djarin,” says Crix. “He’s joining us on our visit into town.”

“Passionate speech you made last night. I’m Jido. Welcome.” Jido and Din clasp forearms and shake.

Jido steps back and points his thumb over his shoulder at the other two Mandalorians. “That’s Ran and Cerra.” Ran gives Din a half-hearted salute while Cerra lifts her hand in greeting. Jido leans in and whispers. “They’re a bit boring.”

“Heard that,” snaps Cerra as she turns her back on the group. “We going?”

The five of them head into the trees, walking in the direction that Din entered from. When they exit, Din heads for the N1, looking it over for any signs of tampering. It’s clean, and Din sighs with relief.

“The people here don’t touch things that aren’t theirs. Your ship will be fine,” states Crix as he walks up beside Din. He runs his gloved hand over the wing in appreciation.

“On Tatooine, I had a run in with some Jawas,” replies Din.

Crix snorts. “What was left of your ship?”

“Nothing.”

Jido, Ran, and Cerra’s jetpacks ignite. Crix and Din follow suit, the five of them launching into the air. Din trails behind, following the four Mandalorians as they jet across dreary farmland.

In minutes they approach the small settlement Din visited yesterday, landing right outside the wall. The people moving about don’t even seem to care that a group of Mandalorians landed amongst them. They keep going about their lives as if is this the norm. It’s the same reaction they had with Din.

Din is almost always the stranger. The unknown variable. In crowded places, he is avoided unless someone needs something from him.

He stays at the back of the pack. Jido, Ran, Crix, and Cerra all appear relaxed. They chat amongst themselves, and even stop for an old woman who presents a basket to them full of the red berries Din saw yesterday. Each Mandalorian takes a handful and deposits the goods into various pockets of their flightsuits.

The old woman approaches Din and holds the basket out to him. He doesn’t want to offend her. He scoops out a decent handful and finds a home for them. He’ll share it with Grogu when he returns.

The old woman inclines her head and moves on. Din’s helmet follows her but Crix taps against Din’s upper arm, drawing his attention away from the woman.

Din inhales, and he isn’t sure if the voice receiver in his helmet picks up the soft sound.

You’re standing right there, eyes bright and eager.

“You found them,” you say enthusiastically.

“I did.” Din is nervous. Why is he nervous? Do you do this to him?

Crix crosses his arms and pops a hip. “The two of you know each other?”

You laugh, and it’s the loveliest sound Din has ever heard. “He stumbled in to Tarra’s workshop while we were preparing the Daily Strands.”

“Make enough for us?” asks Jido, his voice a bit sultry. A bit teasing. Din instantly hates that he’s speaking to you that way.

“There are plenty. So, yes,” you tease back, smiling widely.

Crix shifts, turning his body toward Din. “Since you’re our guest, you don’t need to follow us around while we work.” Crix inclines his head in your direction. “She’ll show you around a bit.”

You look so hopeful that Din cannot say no.

He walks beside you the entire time as you go on about the important buildings, the history of the people, and the finer details of your culture. Din is enraptured by how animated you are toward him. He hardly risks asking any questions, mostly wanting to hear you talk.

“Here we are.” You extend your hand toward the building Din stumbled into yesterday.

“Are we going inside?” asks Din skeptically.

You grin and push back the curtain, gesturing for him to come inside. He follows, and this time there are only two other women in this space. They greet Din politely, but return to their work. You walk over to a large table. On it, are…necklaces? Din isn’t entirely sure what they are.

With caution, he approaches, you present one to him.

“These are Daily Strands. We wear them every day during the winter observance.” You point to the threads holding it together. “The threaded cord is the base, symbolizing the importance of community.” Next, you point to the flower petals. “These symbolize the eventual thaw and growth of new life.” Then the red berries. “These are native to the planet. We dry them out to represent the frozen ground.”

“And what do these symbolize?” asks Din, pointing to long, thin, green, stick-like leaves.

“Abundance. These are needles from local trees, and they grow everywhere.” You smile softly. “But it’s more of a wish for prosperity in the future.”

These are what Jido and Crix were referring to.

 You gently lift the Daily Strand, presenting it to Din like an offering. “It’s customary to wear one of these.”

Din does not refuse. Instead, he lowers at the waist so that you can slide it over his helmet and around his neck.

You gently draw away and your hands fall to your skirts, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in nervousness. “It is also customary for the giver to kiss the cheeks of the receiver.” You shrug. “But I can make an exception given the circumstances.”

Din remembers how eager Jido was to receiving one of these. Briefly, Din imagines you kiss the sides of Jido and Crix’s helmets, and Din instantly simmers.

Not knowing how to ask, Din bends again, this time just enough that all you’ll need to do is to go up on your toes to place those gentle lips against his beskar.

“No exceptions,” he murmurs.

Your mouth forms a soft o, and then it cools, turning into tender satisfaction. Slowly, you kiss the curve of his helmet on the right side and then the left.

Even with the helmet on, Din still manages to catch a whiff of your scent. You smell like the trees and warm sugar. Without instruction, his hand brushes against your hip.

You do not draw away, and that pleases something deep within Din. When you pull back, Din instantly misses your heat.

“I will wear this every day,” says Din, his hand resting against it briefly.

You laugh, and Din doesn’t understand what you find so funny. “It’s a Daily Strand. You receive a new one each day.”

Every day? Does that mean you’ll kiss him every time you place a new one around his neck?

“Then I will be back tomorrow for a new one.”

“Promise?” you murmur.

“Promise.”

Part 2

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @dameron-grant-spector @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666

[dindjarindiaries]

The Broken Who Blossom

summary: At long last, Din’s returned home to the covert, but he’s brought a lot more home with him than anticipated.

pairing: din djarin x mandalorian!reader

tags: angst, physical & emotional hurt/comfort, injuries, references to trauma & death, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.563k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

The beach was still littered with the bodies of injured Mandalorians and the giant-sized insides of the sea creature as you caught your breath. You went to stand up and let out a short gasp at the pain that rippled through your leg. Upon looking down, your visor found the gash on the side of your left leg, left behind by the creature’s claw.

You tightened your jaw and tried to stand again, but before you could, an outstretched hand offered to help you. Paz stood over you, the sight of him a relief as you accepted his help and stood on your feet as best as you could. Your gloved hands tightened into fists at your sides as you gave a quick glance around the shore.

“Is Ragnar okay?” Your modulated voice was more breathless than you wanted it to be.

“He’s fine.” Paz’s voice was lower than you expected, and his visor was fixed on something in the distance with hardly concealed hostility.

You followed his gaze to see the N-1 starfighter that had been the covert’s savior landing on the beach. Dread washed over you much like the water that continued to lap at the sand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the pilot, but the chances were the covert would have to relocate once again.

Then, the N-1 landed, and you clearly saw the person within it. The sight made you lose your breath even more than you had before, with only one thought—one name—able to come to mind.

“Din,” you gasped to yourself, your voice barely a breath as you attempted to walk forward.

Paz grabbed your armored shoulder without looking back at you. “No.”

You fought his grasp without hesitation. This was the first time you had seen Din since he was forced to leave you on Nevarro, and you weren’t sacrificing your reunion for Paz’s bitter feelings towards him. “Let me go.” Your voice bordered on a growl, even as your gaze softened at the sight of Din with the small, green child he had told you about so long ago.

“No.” Paz used his entire arm to keep you from advancing. “He is no longer one of us.”

Your helmet whipped towards his own. “What the hell do you mean?”

Paz’s visor finally met your own. “He’s an apostate.”

The words hit you harder than any weapon could’ve. Still, you remained skeptical, tilting your helmet at him. “How is that possible?”

“He removed his helmet.” You gaped beneath your own helmet at that, unable to believe Din could ever do such a thing. In your silence, Paz scoffed with cruel amusement and took a step away from you. “Let him tell you the truth himself.”

In moving away from you, the path between you and Din was completely cleared. Din had stepped out of his ship and set the tiny green child beside his boot on the sand. His attention was still fixed on the Armorer, who stood the closest to him. “I would like to request a brief audience with you,” Din announced to the Armorer, though everyone still standing on the beach remained silent enough to hear him.

You wanted to cry out his name again at the mere sound of his voice. Cycles spent dreaming of it, his final words to you wrapped around your mind like the cruelest broken promise, and now, you were finally hearing it again. But you can’t enjoy it, not with the knowledge of what Paz has revealed to you.

You didn’t want to believe him, but here it was, playing out in front of you. Whispers had already started to carry throughout the group, as if you had purposely been left on the outside of a deep, dark secret for much too long.

The Armorer at last responded with a nod. “When you are ready, you may join me in the forge.” Her visor found you with ease.

Din’s followed. You knew him well enough to understand how severe his reaction was to the sight of you, but even those who didn’t know him the way you did would have been able to tell. His entire body froze, even his cuirass stalling as his visor locked on your own. Your name came breathless from his modulator the same way yours had with his.

You let Din close the gap between you with steps that were both quick and hesitant, as if he was in a dream. You understood the feeling all too well, and you wished you could grasp onto it. Before he could get too close, you held out a single gloved hand, instantly stopping him in his tracks. Din’s visor looked between your hand and your helmet.

You willed your voice to be firm, but it was an impossible task. “Is it true?”

Din’s cuirass stalled again. He shifted his weight, a heartbreaking habit of his that made you want to drop your guard and reach out for him immediately. Still, the unspoken truth between the two of you overpowered your urge.

Your gloved hand was trembling as you continued to hold it up between the two of you. “Did you remove your helmet?”

Din took a deep, trembling breath. You were close enough to hear the way it shook as it entered and exited his corrupted lungs. All you ever wanted for longer than you even knew was to have this proximity to him again, but now, it was like a punishment. It was only made worse by the shame and pure ache in Din’s voice as he spoke. “I did.”

Your throat closed up upon hearing the truth from his lips. “You’re an apostate, then.”

Din’s helmet fell to his boots at that. “I am.” His voice was an inch from broken at the confession.

The little child at his side cooed in distress. It only worsened your own heartbreak. You exhaled and lowered your hand, giving your helmet an aimless shake. You lowered your voice as you spoke again. “Damn it, Din.”

The quivering in your voice was Din’s breaking point. He took another step closer to you. “I can explain.”

“Don’t.” You went to take a step back, forgetting the injury on your leg. It nearly gave out on you, causing you to trip a few steps around yourself. Din didn’t hesitate to reach out and steady you, but as soon as you had better footing, you pulled yourself away from him.

“You’re hurt.” Din sounded more pained than you, the one who actually bore the physical wound. He respected your silent wishes for him to stay away, his gloved hands tightening into fists as he struggled to do so. “Can I help?”

You raised your chin higher than usual. “I can take care of it myself.” You clenched your jaw as you turned your back to him, stopping to glance over your armored shoulder as you added one more thing quietly. “But you can come with me.”

Din nodded at that, clearly more than satisfied with your offer. He and the child followed you as you managed to limp all the way to your private barracks. You were grateful for the fact everyone had given you both some semblance of privacy, though you didn’t miss the glares thrown Din’s way as he followed you into the caves. It made you angry on his behalf, but even you were still disillusioned by the revelation.

It was like everyone knew except for you, and no one bothered to fill you in.

You led Din into your private room, and he drew the makeshift curtain closed for you. You managed to grab your medpac before collapsing on your bed. Din stood nearby, shifting his weight again as you began to tend to your own wound.

“I thought you would come back.” You made your voice stronger than before as you stole a look at Din. “Like you promised me.”

“I did.” Din’s quick response was desperate, not defensive. “After I completed my quest and reunited the kid with his own kind, I took all the jobs I could to get information on the covert. I found the Armorer and Paz on the Glavis Ringworld, and I…” Din shook his helmet. “I thought that was all that was left. That’s what I was told.”

You remained tough in your interrogation, no matter how your instincts of longing screamed at you. “Was that before or after you removed your helmet?”

“After.” Din never hesitated once in revealing each truth to you. “I had no choice, cyare. I promise, I swear.”

It was hard to remain calm when Din was so close to fracturing in front of you, but you maintained your composure nonetheless. “How did it happen?”

For the first time yet, Din hesitated. You stopped the work you were doing on your leg and glanced up, watching as Din bent down and held the child in his arms. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself at the sight of them. “The kid got captured by Moff Gideon.”

Your eyes widened underneath your visor. “Moff Gideon?”

Din nodded. “I… can tell you more about him later.” His voice was low, casting a shadow over the future conversation. “The only way I could get the kid back was to find the coordinates to Gideon’s light cruiser.” Din’s visor fell to the child tucked in his arm. “The Imperial terminal I used required a facial scan.”

It was hard to believe what Din was telling you, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Din was a man of honor, the most honorable you had ever known, but it was his love for and loyalty to the people closest to him that took precedence over all else. He had shown you so himself.

“You said you completed your quest.” You paused to grit your teeth as you administered bacta spray to your wound. Din nearly made the motion to lunge towards you in your peripheral vision, but he stopped himself. “But the child is still with you.”

“Grogu.” Your visor found Din again at the word. The way the child’s long ears had risen on his head answered the question you were about to ask, though Din also beat you to it. “His name is Grogu.” You simply nodded and continued to tend to your wound, allowing Din to continue. “I did complete my quest, but he came back to me.”

You spoke without diverting your attention away from your work. “Why?”

Din’s visor fell to the child, Grogu, once again. “I’m… not sure.” Your chest warmed underneath your cuirass as you watched Din’s forefinger and thumb hold Grogu’s hold. “I guess he wants to be a Mandalorian.”

“Or…” you smiled as you reached for the dark-colored gauze and began to unravel it, “he just wants to be with you.” You forced your visor to remain fixed on your work as you went on. “I know the feeling well.”

Din dared to take a step closer to you. His modulated voice was low and haunted as he spoke. “Have I ruined it?”

You took a deep breath, your armored shoulders rising and falling with you as you secured the gauze around your leg. You stopped and reached for your cuisse, holding the metal between your gloved hands and giving your helmet an aimless shake. “I just…” You raised your helmet to face Din. He continued to stand just a single step or two away from you, restless in his poorly concealed desperation as he shifted his weight once again. “I don’t understand.”

Din’s helmet tilted as he nodded. “I can explain.” His voice was hopeful, and softer than it had been ever since he arrived. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“I know you will.” You packed up the medical supplies, securing the medpac closed and heaving another breath. “But I don’t think this is something you can explain.”

Din’s helmet straightened in confusion as you tried to stand. You groaned and stopped yourself, closing your eyes beneath your visor at the way the movement pained your healing leg. Din froze, his visor intently watching your every move. You held out your hand towards him.

“Can you help me?”

Din nodded, setting Grogu back onto the floor before taking a firm step towards you. He held your gloved hand and used the other to steady your back, helping you to stand and assisting you over to where your medpac belonged.

You resumed your earlier thoughts as Din kept you close to his side. It was a welcome feeling akin to that of a home. “Nobody told me.” Your visor found his. “I searched for a new location for the covert. I helped to bring everyone here, including the Armorer and Paz from Glavis. And what have I gotten in return?”

You shook your helmet, letting Din help you sit on your bed once again. That time, you were regretful to let go of his hand.

“Lies. Half-hearted truths.” You scoffed and tightened your gloved hands around your cuisses. “No one told me you were alive. Neither the Armorer nor Paz told me they had even seen you.” You lifted a hand to gesture behind Din at the curtain serving as your door. “They’ve all known about us for cycles, and yet no one decided to tell me what happened to you.”

Din helped a visible breath. Your visor never strayed from his as you sat in the silence for a long moment.

“But you haven’t hesitated to be honest with me.” You lifted your chin. “I’m not taking the side of those who refused to do the same.”

The tension that fled from Din’s armored shoulders at your words was practically visible. It was almost as if his weight gave out altogether as he knelt down in front of you. “Thank you.” His modulated voice was quiet, strained by an emotion you struggled to identify. “But…” he shook his helmet, his visor falling to the floor, “they’re still right.” Din found the faith to face you again. “I’m an apostate. I broke the Creed.” Din nodded, as dutiful as ever. “You deserve better than to be associated with me.”

You leaned forward and held his helmet between your gloved hands. It was a position that catapulted you to the sweet nostalgia of the past, when holding his beskar face was an everyday routine rather than a long-lost privilege. “Din.” It was hard to miss the small inhale Din took at your gentle utterance of his name. “You may have removed your helmet, but you did not break the Creed.” You nodded at him. “In my eyes, you upheld the most important vows we swore ourselves to: Honor. Loyalty. Solidarity.”

You paused, your visor finding the little one who stood patiently by Din’s boot. He cooed at you, nodding to agree with your words as he encouraged you to go on. You smiled at the child and looked at Din again.

“You completed the highest honor of our people.” Your helmet gestured to Grogu. “You rescued a foundling.” The front part of your helmet found his own as you brought Din closer to you. “This is the Way.”

Din’s gloved hands found your wrists, the touch slow yet secure as he wrapped them around you. His repetition of the phrase crackled through his modulator in his disbelief. “This is the Way.”

You smiled and brushed your gloved hands over his beskar cheeks. “If your allegiance to the Creed makes you an apostate, then…” you freed your hands from Din, holding your own helmet and lifting it before Din could stop you, “I suppose it makes me one, too.”

Din froze, his visor scanning your face in disbelief. His gloved hands were stuck as they reached out in front of him, a statue of his thwarted attempt to keep you from removing your helmet. He spoke in a trembling, disbelieving breath. “Cyare…”

You set your helmet aside and held his once more. “Loyalty and solidarity are the Way.”

Din finally began to move, one of his gloved hands returning to your wrist as the other cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes to prove to him just how meaningful it truly is to you. “I’ve… only been able to dream of this.” Din’s confession was quiet, each modulated word strained as he spoke. “Of you.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, his gloved thumb running over the skin under your eye over and over again. “Of upholding my promise.”

You smiled at him. “As have I.” You held a hand over his. “It’s been hard, but…” you looked at Grogu and grinned wider, “I’m glad you put the foundling first.”

Grogu cooed at that before Din could even respond. You watched as the little one toddled his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your boot and closing his eyes as he hugged it. You chuckled lightheartedly, your gaze returning to Din’s visor.

You were shocked to see his true gaze just a moment later—a brown sea of warmth and pure affection.

Your gloved hands held his untrimmed jaw as the warmth of your forehead met his for the first time. You couldn’t resist the urge to study him up close over and over again, making your smile remain as you spoke to him in a soft breath. “Being an apostate isn’t so bad.”

Din huffed with amusement at that. His own gaze was studying you, but his eyes had started to focus on your lips. “We can make it worth our while.”

His natural voice was a gift as sweet as the first kiss he gave you, a breathtakingly beautiful display of affection that was many cycles in the making. Pure warmth that rivaled anything the galaxy had ever offered you blossomed from his lips onto your own, setting your chest aflame with the same sweet heat. For the sake of the child in the room, the two of you separated more quickly than either one of you would have liked, your smiles brightening up the space between you.

“So,” you began, running your gloved fingers over his cheek, “where are we headed next, cyare?”

Din grimaced for a moment, making you furrow your brow in concern. “Mandalore.”

You lifted your head from his. “The planet’s cursed, Din. We can’t go there.”

Din broke away from you for a moment to reach for something on his belt. He lifted it and offered it to you. “That’s Mandalorian writing.” He said the words as soon as you read them on the green slab of glass. “A traveler acquired this from the planet’s surface.”

Your gaze of disbelief found his. “Is it breathable?”

Din shrugged, taking the fused glass back from you. “That’s what I’m going to find out.” He nodded and looked down at his helmet. “The Armorer has told me redemption is only possible in the Living Waters beneath the mines.”

You tightened your jaw in resolution. “Then that’s where we’re headed.” You prepared to force yourself to stand once again. “I’ll get my things together.”

Din shook his head, his brown eyes dark with worry as his brow furrowed. “You’re still hurt.”

“One night’s rest will be enough to heal it.” You nodded in further reassurance. “The trip through hyperspace will take care of it.”

Din hesitated, but ultimately he nodded to agree with you. “And you still have your ship?”

“I do. Speaking of which…” you raised your brow at him, “you’ve got quite the ship, now.”

Din huffed, though his gaze averted yours. “The Crest was destroyed by Gideon.” You set a hand on his cheek for comfort. “This ship’s turning out to be a fairly decent replacement, though.”

“Sure.” You grinned at him. “Knowing you, this ship’s much more your speed.”

Din chuckled, his attention turning to Grogu. “What do you think, buddy?”

The foundling let out a long coo, making both you and Din laugh before he helped you to stand. He supported you with one hand and used the other to grab your helmet, though he hesitated before he put it back on for you.

“Thank you, cyare.” The genuine nature of Din’s words were even more evident without the filter of his helmet, his brown eyes telling you the very same truth.

You brought yourself closer to him. “You don’t have to thank me, Din.” You nodded, your next words a whispered breath upon his lips. “I did it because I love you.”

You kissed him, a quick yet meaningful gesture that kept a small smile on his lips as you pulled away. His response was still just as meaningful as before, if not more so. “I love you, too.” He nodded as he began to set your helmet over your head. “Once we find our redemption,” the helmet lowered, “then I’ll follow through on my promise.”

You helped Din with his own helmet before leaning it against your own in one more Keldabe kiss. “I know you will.”

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

[saphronethaleph]

The Natural One

Ric Olie looked down at the note in front of him, and then up at the gungan who'd given it to him.

 "You're sure?" he asked. "This… kriff, I don't know what to say."

 "Yousa don't have to say it," Jar Jar replied. "Mesa knows what mesa is suggestin'."

 He shook his head. "Mesa knows mesa made mistakes. Mesa… generally thinks that mesa did not make the big-nasty mistake in a way that other people did not make, because mesa does not remember anybody bein' worried about Palpatine until himsa became Emperor. Not in that way. But… mesa did it. Not anyone else."

 "Damn," Ric said. "After that, now I think I've thought too little of you, Jar Jar."

 "Yousa have not thought anything mesa has not thought about mesa self," Jar Jar declared. "And mesa… wants to make a difference. A good one, like mesa did in the grand army."

 Ric frowned a little.

 "You know, people are going to think you worked for Palpatine," he said. "He's from here, and I know he fooled everyone, but – that's what people are going to think."

 Jar Jar nodded.

 "That is why mesa made the suggestion that mesa did," he said, firmly. "Yousa has no need to be tellin' me anything. Yousa has no need to give mesa anythin'."

He looked suddenly worried. "Though, it would maybe help mesa a little if yousa got mesa the weapons of a militiagung."

 "We can do that, Jar Jar," Ric said, and realized there was no longer really any question about how he was going to answer the impassioned plea of the gungan opposite him. "And… I don't know what else to say. Thank you? Sorry?"

Jar Jar shrugged.

 "If mesa can help, mesa will be all good with that," he said.

 "How long?" Gregar Typho asked.

 "Distraction could be starting any time now," Ric replied. "It could already have started, but exactly when doesn't matter – we go at the time chop."

 He glanced back at the group of resistance fighters – two dozen commandoes, and a dozen pilots.

 The main hangar of Harte Secur was not far away, and inside lurked fourteen N-1T starfighters – significantly more advanced than the standard N-1, and fully as capable as a modern fighter like the flight-one X-wings.

 Capturing those fighters and getting them to a safe hangar on the far side of the Chomell Sector was the primary objective today. They needed independent strike fighter capability if they were going to be more than a group meeting in underground rooms and occasionally assassinating someone in the street.

 Then his comlink crackled.

 "Heyo, uh… Captain?" Jar Jar's voice said, through the link. "Mesa knows you said a distraction, but mesa… may have made a little bit of a boopjak big mistake."

 "What kind of mistake, Jar Jar?" Ric asked, already having dire thoughts about some kind of absolute, unmitigated disaster.

 Jar Jar Binks had a reputation, and it was a hard one to forget at times like this.

 "Well, mesa was assumin' that yousa wanted the distraction to still be goin' when you did whatever it is yousa is meant to be doin'," Jar Jar replied. "But mesa threw mesa first booma, and it hit one of their-sa two legged walker things, and mesa guesses that theysa did not actually see mesa booma? But the walker was shooten, and the other stormtroopers thought the walker had begun shooten them deliberately, an' they were shooten back, and then mesa had to run away from a flame-shooten trooper for a bit so mesa lost track of what was goin' on, but, uhh… there'sa no distraction any more, because the troopers all shooten each other."

 Ric stared at the comlink.

 "...all of them?" he said. "You mean all the gate guards?"

 "Not just themsa!" Jar Jar replied, clearly trying to get the whole thing explained in one go now he'd started. "Themsa, an' the white armoured guys from the barracks place too, an' all four of theirsa doopeewee landspeeder things, an'… well, mesa will simplify and say mesa doesn't think there'sa anythin' left. Sorry, Captain, mesa screwed up."

 "...I'm… sure we'll handle it," Ric decided. "Thanks, Jar Jar."

Some weeks later, Darth Vader examined a data screen.

It detailed how a single fighter had attempted to attack two Star Destroyers and their escorts on patrol out near Adelphi.

It also detailed how the Star Destroyers had somehow been persuaded to actually crash into one another, resulting in ninety-five percent total casualties, and how nobody had been entirely clear about whether the fighter had escaped or been shot down.

And, as a footnote, it said that the next place the two ships had been planning to visit had been hit by a Rebel attack that had caused significant damage – precisely because the capital ships had been missing.

 "We can take your squadron there at need, Lord Vader," his captain said.

 "No," Vader replied. "I recognize the signs of this. I want nothing to do with it."

He shook his head. "Nothing whatsoever."

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode VIII

Summary: Anakin gets dragged into a mission with Poe Dameron, while something unexpected happens at the Jedi Temple, where you and the others face the incoming threat. (don't forget I use characters from different timelines)

Warnings: mentions of blood, vulgar language

Word count: 3.2k

previous chapter | read on Wattpad

--

Anakin:

I was on a mission with freaking Poe Dameron. I would like to think I haven't lowered my standards when it comes to the assignments I usually do, because this one sure fucking isn't it. But I was literally dragged to do this with him, it wasn't the first time either, so I know what he was on about. I didn't have a choice matter-of-factly, because I refused too many times the past two days, but he just made me come with him saying he needed my assistance. He also made me wear a stupid helmet, but I reassured my decision and disagreed. 

He works with the fucking Resistance, what does he need me for? He flies a T-70 X-wing starfighter, which is high key superior to my Eta-2 Actis-class. He knows many attack techniques, and he also has an entire group with him flying around. 

Poe was using his comlink to communicate with his partners as we reached closer to find the First Order's headquarters. It reminded me badly of the Emperor, but I tried to suck up the feeling of rage inside of me. It's been years already, what is done is done. 

While the man next to me focused on his own mission, I thought back to two days ago, when I met (Y/N) in the coffee room. I honestly didn't expect to meet anyone there, hence why I decided to get a drink in the middle of the night. It caught me off guard seeing her after what had happened the last time we were together, which made me feel completely flimsy being close to her. 

And it pissed me off that she thought it would be a good idea to bring his lightsaber up after everything he had done before he left me behind. I didn't regret breaking that stupid piece of shit of grip, I should've done that the first time I came across it when she had it in her hands. It drives me insane the way she just trusts everyone she meets, without even realizing how much they can harm people. And worse than that, trusting Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi. 

I can't trust anyone after everything I've been through, after I've been left behind from my former Master. Most importantly, I trusted Palpatine's words that he could help me save Padmé, and he betrayed me as well. My issues all lie around the ones I devoted my life to. 

Dameron snaps me out of my distraction when he finally speaks up to me, handing me a blaster gun. I rolled my eyes, thinking he definitely believes I would need a blaster gun when I have my lightsaber. 

"We're moving forward to attack them, assault their army and gather intel" He removes his helmet, which has features of the Resistance's symbol mixed with a red and black design. 

"Jesus, Dameron. You guys know what you're dealing with, right?" I try to stand on my ground and not stick my nose where it wasn't my issue. Obviously, my body was probably going to boil from all the control I'm holding back. 

"Yes, Sherlock? We've been here before, but we couldn't find them" Poe moves his head to the sides, looking for a hidden place to land, which was pretty nonexistent. 

Why the fuck did he call me Sherlock?

"You couldn't find them" I laughed in disbelief. He truly believes it's that easy to fight against the First Order. "Can you imagine what they're capable of if they find us first?"

He seemed to ponder for a moment, but gave me a reassuring smirk before unbuckling his belt. I did nothing but huff in annoyance over his shitty idea. I was going to help him and his trope, but only because he made me come, and I owe him as well. 

"I've led attacks and been to many before, and they were all terrible people. This is no different" Poe tried to convince me he would make it out of here. Again, my trust issues aren't really helping me here. 

"Yeah, but they weren't Snoke" I muttered and he shot his head back at me quickly, surprised with my words "I can sense the motherfucker from miles" 

We stay glancing at each other for what feels like several minutes, only then he took in what was really happening and how much he was willing to risk himself and his group in a suicide mission. Because that's what it really is when it comes to Snoke. The artificial humanoid was as powerful as Palpatine. 

"You're telling me you made me bring you into this shit show and didn't tell me who we're dealing with?" He raised his voice, almost squeaking with desperation, and I furrowed my brows. 

I shake my head, not exactly catching on what he's saying. "You didn't fucking know we were literally walking into death?"

"I thought we were fighting off Stormtroopers?"

He's really unbelievable. If I wasn't here, he would be dead by now. Poe would've been sliced into a million pieces and would've taken his entire group down with him. 

"Poe! For God's sake, do you ever think before you go on these missions?" I can't even begin to tell how much I'm frustrated with him and his lack of self consciousness. "This is the fucking Supremacy headquarters, it's literally his lair!"

He became desperate and started to communicate through his comlink, letting the others know what we were really getting ourselves into. I swear to God this is why I don't trust people at all. I should've known better than to just follow Poe into the assignments he finds. This is beyond crazy of him. 

I decided to take over the yoke of his ship and maneuver it until we start to lift off the ground, swinging it. The moment we started to leave, the stormtroopers finally made their appearance and started shooting at us. 

It was really hard to find the right setting for the attack, but I managed to hit the defense laser cannon, trying to blast them and take them down. Poe was in a mix of trying to warn everyone, while he shoved my hands off the yoke. 

"You're gonna get us fucking killed!" He screamed before taking control and flying up, far enough to hit the men on the ground.

"You're the one to talk!" I yelled back at him, looking out the window to realize his teammates were still taking off and struggling to fight back. My senses heightened when I felt something really disturbing ring in my head. 

At first, it was confusing because it came all at once. The high-pitched noise started to pound in my head and when I looked back at the headquarters, I noticed Snoke coming out of the Supremacy, walking slowly to the edge of the place. He was staring at us, but didn't move a finger. 

"Pull the lightspeed gear!" I shouted at Poe, startling him. He looked at me and creased his brows. "Do it now!"

He didn't question my demand, pulling the gear immediately and we crossed the galaxy in a matter of seconds. He looked over his shoulder to get a glance behind us, to see if his teammates were right after us. I unknowingly heaved out a sigh, listening to Dameron do the same next to me when we noticed their ships behind us. 

Still, the vertigo and the ringing in my head hit back, and I looked over the transceiver on his  control panel. There was a hissing noise and a faint voice on the other side, speaking words we couldn't understand. He managed to spin a few buttons, trying to tune it in so it became clear. 

"Code nine thirteen! Nine, one three!" The other voice spoke, and we both looked at each other at the same time. It's an emergency code. 

Was that Cal Kestis? My blood ran cold, and I felt a shiver down my spine, and my limbs became numb. I watched as Poe took the lead and gripped the transceiver speaker and spoke to him, I was utterly shocked and couldn't say a word. I started to zone out, thinking about Luke and our groups of people. Even (Y/N) came into my mind. 

"It's the General Grievous' army! We are under attack! Where the hell are you guys?" His voice came rather desperate, like he couldn't fathom what was really happening. 

"We're coming, landing is in a few seconds!" Poe sped up and quickly we were near the Temple. 

"Luke, is he okay? How bad is it?" I was still under a daze, my eyes roaming around the place looking for something dreadful happening down there.I start to unbuckle myself as soon as Poe lands the ship, barely waiting for him to open the doors and I immediately sprint off the hallway of the Temple looking for my son.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Cal hitting his lightsaber incessantly against the army of droids, his face covered in dried blood. He shot me a knowing look when I came over to where he was and assisted him with my weapon.

"Where is Luke?" I hear my strangling voice ask him as we managed to keep ourselves shielded from them. He didn't answer and I raised my tone at him "Where the hell is my kid?"

"He's hiding with (Y/N), she took him!"

"Where?" My hands were swinging the lightsaber as fast as they could, even though I could feel them trembling.

"I don't fucking know- ah!" He grunted and I looked over at him.

One of the droids slashed their sword against his upper arm, ripping a pained groan out of him. I kicked it off and shoved mine against them, beating it into pieces. Kestis watches me with wide eyes and nods when I face him back.

I rush out of the hallway, running aimlessly. I needed to figure out a way of getting to Luke, but I had to think about where she would hide with him in the first place. And I had no idea, given that I still don't know much about her. So I tried the only thing I have to my advantage. I focused my senses and shut down the background noise. A few seconds later, I gathered a few whispering down the other end of the Temple.

My hands were shaking really badly, I thought I was going to pass out from the distress. It was agonizing not knowing where he was and if he was ok. I walked slowly through each closed door, until I could hear shuffling against the smaller one. It could barely fit two people in there. Usually they use force shields so any other force sensitive people wouldn't get ahold of it, but I've worked on mine for so long it can literally overreach it.

"Luke! Are you in there?" I ask, resting my hand over the door knob while leaning my ear against the door. There's still faint noises on the other side. It was faint, but I could hear them. "It's me, it's dad"

"Don't open the door, Luke. It could be a changeling" She whispers to him.

"But I know it's my dad. I can feel it" Luke whispers back, leaning against the door. I can feel his energy dissipating through the room.

"It's me Luke. It's not a changeling, I'm right here!" I try to whisper to him as well, maybe he will sense it too.

For a brief second, he mentioned opening the door but (Y/N) caught him in the middle of it. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"No, young boy. Did your father not tell you to not trust anyone?" Her words hit me hard like a brick.

I know I've been clear about that, but it felt too weird to be on the other side of the story this time. She knows how I feel about trusting people, (Y/N) is trying to keep him safe using my own advice.

Again, he shuffled on the other side and I felt his body moving further away from the door. This time, she was standing against it.

"Stay back, and hold onto me" She asked in a low tone and slowly turned the doorknob.

I didn't wait until she opened fully, making myself step into the tiny room as I felt a whip of laser coming inches across from my face. She really needs to start practicing her freaking aiming. I watch as she holds tightly to the blaster gun and sighs in relief when she notices it's just me.

I kneel down and hold Luke tightly against me, resting my chin over his small shoulder. His arms cross around my neck and he holds me back with urge.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask in a rush and feel my hands pull him tighter, almost merging our bodies together. He mumbles a "no" and clings to me.

I have to be faster if I want to get ourselves out of there alive and in pieces. I hold him up and place both of his legs around my waist, looking back at (Y/N) who watches the closed door, apprehensive.

She looks back at me for a slight second, nodding before preparing herself to walk out of the room.

"Thank you" I mumble almost silently when I stare back at her, both of us getting in position.

We ran across the hallway looking for any kind of cover, while I used my free hand to deflect the blasts and hit them where I could. Whereas (Y/N) attempts to aim and shoot them, miserably failing at it. But at least she's trying. I get to one of the giant metal doors that leads us to the underground, where we keep gears and machines running. There isn't really a path to follow under there, giving us time to reach outside the hangar.

We are met with a couple of battle droids, reaching out to them with Luke still on my hold, while he keeps his head low on my neck and his arms still around my body. I take a sharp inhale and decide to pass him over to her. I have to do it fast otherwise I'll regret it. She darts her eyes at me with furrowed brows and a concerned look, but still does so.

She realizes what I'm on to when I grasp the blaster out of her hand and start to shoot them while using my lightsaber at the same time. The spinning helps me get through the blasts, giving me advantage when I finally beat them down. But there are screaming and rumbling on the other side of the hangar, our teammates fighting them off as well as trying to get rid of their attack.

I step forward trying to figure out a way of getting them down quicker, but my plans get interrupted when something blows them up into flames. My mouth hangs open when I snap my head to the left and watch a ship as it fires off another laser cannon over them.

We all watch as whoever is in charge starts to get off, turning the aircraft around and speeding up in seconds. When I look back to the blown up droids, I notice they took down each one of them and the screaming has finally stopped.

We were safe. Whatever that was, they saved us.

From the distance, I see Poe and Cal running towards us. The redhead seems to be a little beaten but could still stand up, even though his face was covered in small cuts and splits, which was manageable. The pilot, on the other hand, kept holding his side, while his head was wrapped in cloth. You could still see fresh blood spreading against it.

"Holy shit" Poe was out of breath, he dropped all his weight over my shoulder where he kept his hand rested on. "Holy shit"

Holy shit indeed. I should tell him this battle is still nothing compared to what he was about to do.

I snake an arm under his body and lift him up, supporting him while we walk slowly. Louise walks past me still carrying Luke as she carefully uses her free hand to rest on Cal's face.

"Jesus, Cal. Are you okay?" She asks him, concerned about his injuries even though he gives her a nod.

Her thumb ghosts over his cheek, and he holds her hand with both of his, squeezing it. Kestis gives her a sided hug, ruffling Luke's hair.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Poe grunts next to me and I give him a quick look.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I sense something... weird" He murmurs, using my shoulder for support. "I think it's jealousy"

"What the fuck, Poe?" The pilot is holding a cheeky grin on his face, and I feel my jaw clenching.

"Is that even an emotion you have? Is it possible?" He asks and I dig my mechanic fingers into his shoulder blade. "Ow! Ow! Okay, I'm sorry!"

"Shut up, before I change my mind and feed you to the Ewoks" I hear him chuckling, even though he's definitely in pain.

"Ewoks and Wookies love me, you're gonna have to try harder" Poe muttered.

I swat my hand over his head carefully, not wanting to hurt him even more than I wish I could. "I'll handle you to the fucking First Order next time"

He opens his mouth with an offended look and I display a victorious smirk at him.

There are dozens of injured people at the medical bay, it's definitely going to be a difficult job for all the medics, we were probably going to have to ask for a backup. Both him and Cal get assisted, while we watch them leave our sight. I feel Luke's small hands grab my neck, pulling himself against my body once again.

I shift his weight and whisper him some comforting words. He was really disturbed and I feel bad he had to live this shit. From the corner of my eye, I see (Y/N) trying to get rid of the dried blood from her trembling hands. I reach over and hold her wrist gently as she looks over me with a confused look.

Yes, I hate her sometimes, and she annoys me a lot. But I need to be friendly over the situation.

"We're fine, we're safe now" I speak through a comforting tone and she nods.

"Wasn't prepared for all of this" She tries to keep her head up, but her lips form into a thin line and I know she's in shock.

"I know, we never really are" My flesh hand gives her a reassurance squeeze and I feel my skin burn.

I can't handle the touch. I mean, I can handle touching my son. But when it comes to a woman, I just can't. It still reminds me of her. I jolt it back and try to cover up my reaction. Poe fucking ruined it for me. How can I be jealous of her if we can barely stand each other? This is probably a nonsense statement.

She doesn't say another word, holding her body with affliction.

I clear my throat before I choke out another "thank you". She glances up at me again, this time surprise washed over her face. "Thank you for taking care of him when I wasn't here. And for reminding him about trust"

This is a bit of a big deal to me. As much as I try to keep my distance from her, she keeps being pulled back like a damn magnet. I force myself to stay away from her but things always take a turn and we're once again facing each other. It gives me anxiety, and it's not a good one. If there's even a good kind of anxiety. It makes me feel like I'm taking many steps back after struggling with my reality.

I don't deserve someone in my life anymore, except Luke. All I did was hurt the people I love the most, and if I can keep them alive I can't allow myself to be too close to them. I mean, all of them. I don't want to be a friend for Cal, or Poe. I don't want to be a friend for (Y/N) either. This was an exception, she had to do it because I wasn't there for him. But I won't let it happen again.

And what happened today at the Temple was my fault. Whoever got killed or injured, it was because of me. It was because I still go after those who hurt me before. And General Grievous won't stop until he gets to me. I need to work on getting to him first before it's too late for me. I have to do this alone, this is my fight. I won't have anyone's blood in my hands anymore.

Only my own.

@adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeenerd @readingthingsonhere @js-favnanadoongi @twilightzone24

[radiofreederry]

The crew of the Rambler, from our actual play series Star Wars: Tales From the Ramber! Art by my friend @bijillion.

Five years after the Battle of Endor and two years after the ultimate defeat of the Empire in the Liberation of Coruscant, the Rambler is the lead ship of Halcyon Transport Solutions, a transport company based out of Coronet City on Corellia. Having gained a reputation for both legitimate work and grey market smuggling, Halcyon Transport Solutions has been contracted for a job by no less than Chief of State of the Republic Leia Organa herself, a contract that will launch the crew directly into the seedy underbelly of the galaxy...

Janica Halcyon (played by myself): A female human from Corellia. Owner of Halcyon Transport Solutions, and captain of the Rambler. The daughter of two union activists, Janica had radical politics from a young age and became a decorated pilot of the Rebellion, flying in its most prestigious starfighter unit, Rogue Squadron. She left the navy after helping to capture the Super Star Destroyer Lusankya during the Battle of Coruscant, and formed her company soon after. Clever and resourceful, she is often a moderating voice of reason when her crew are getting up to some antics.

Bhuri'Hssyngigg (played by @lakemojave): A female Trandoshan. Raised in the traditional religion of Trandosha as a devotee of the Scorekeeper, Bhuri ventured out into the galaxy to hunt and gain Jagannath points and favor with her goddess. After some time running with a gang of hunters led by fellow Trandoshan Bossk, Bhuri was saved from an assassin droid on Raxus by Janica, and in Trandoshan tradition pledged a life debt to her, much to Janica's chagrin. She has remained by Janica's side ever since, styling herself Janica's bodyguard and copilot.

Ced Saverem (played by @brucebocchi): A male human from Corellia. A career mechanic and tinkerer, Ced spent many years working for the Corellian Engineering Corporation, while also supplying aid to the Rebellion on occasion, having grown to find the Empire disagreeable. After the end of the Galactic Civil War and amidst the Corellian Revolution, Ced signed on with Halcyon Transport Solutions as the Rambler's mechanic, and will never miss a chance to point out how competent he is at his job. The oldest of the group, he is often grouchy and cantankerous, but nevertheless is loyal to the group and unafraid to jump into danger to protect them.

Val Griv'ir (played by @chansaw): A female Bothan. The youngest of the crew, Val signed on mostly out of convenience. The daughter of Rebel intelligence officers, Val was uninterested in serving the Republic and struck out on her own at a young age to make her fortune - as quickly as possible. She gained infamy as a con woman in the Outer Rim, while also dabbling in thievery. Her most recent major heist earned her a bounty from both Black Sun and the remnants of the Hutt Cartel, forcing her to flee onto the Rambler as a ship's hand. She is a frequent source of headache for the rest of the crew, as she has not changed her ways at all and will happily try to pull a scam for some fast credits.

Caitvuna Conu (played by @thottacelli): A female Twi'lek. A native of the planet Ryloth, Caitvuna was active in the fight for her homeworld's freedom as well as the Rebellion, but the Republic's intervention in the Rylothian Civil War and subsequent annexation of the planet soured her on the Republic, and she left it, finding work on the Rambler as its newest crew member. Officially head of security, Caitvuna is an experienced warrior who knows many ways to dispatch an enemy.

R6-GB (NPC): The Rambler's astromech droid, and one of the original members of the crew. While easily distracted and a bit of a coward, R6 is deeply loyal to Janica, the crew, and the ship, and has gotten them out of a jam on more than one occasion. She usually does not join the crew on their adventures ashore, but stays behind to watch and maintain the ship.

You can catch new episodes of Tales From the Rambler and get to know all these colorful characters better streaming every other Saturday! We hope you'll join us as the crew's adventure continues!

[from-a-legends-pov]

Star Wars Legends: Poll of the Week - Crimes of Fashion

Which of these fashion crimes from a Star Wars Legends property is your favorite?

The rejected designs for Mara Jade’s wedding dress, which included a computer-generated dress, a “traditional” design from a Hutt, a neo-Imperial design with a black cape and hood (Leia: “Yes, but the bride doesn’t want to look like the father of the groom”), and one design that was simply a thong and a large bow, which Mara refused to try on (Star Wars: Union comic)

Wes Janson’s cape that he had specially made for him on Adumar, adorned with flatscreen panels that played a holo of “a line of Jansons, arms linked, doing high kicks like a dancing chorus” (X-Wing: Starfighters of Adumar)

Leia Organa’s Kabray dress – which, due to a luggage mixup, was the only dress she had to wear to an important diplomatic banquet – after a group of enthusiastic Zeltrons “fixed” it (read: cut it to pieces and added glitter) to make it more in keeping with Zeltros fashion and to hide the stains on it (Star Wars #95, original Marvel comics)

Prince Isolder of Hapes’ outfit when presenting the Hapan Consortium’s 62 gifts (plus himself, gift #63) to Leia Organa on Coruscant: “He wore a silver circlet that held a black veil in front of his face, and his long, blond hair fell down around his shoulders. The man was bare-chested except for a small silk half-cloak fastened with silver straps…” (The Courtship of Princess Leia)

The disguises for “Yokel Group” (Wedge Antilles, Myn Donos, and Face Loran) of Wraith Squadron, who for a mission dressed up as a group of stereotypical backwater tourists who had traveled from Agamar looking for brides, wearing shirts with loud prints, clashing shorts, and mismatched hats. “Sir, permission to kill Face?” “Granted. But keep your hat, like Face says” (X-Wing: Wraith Squadron)

Hobbie Klivian’s dress outfit to meet the perator of Cartann, “a riot of lines and angles…every hem of every garment was decorated with trim of eye-hurting yellow, making it almost a dizzying experience to look at him walk.” As Hobbie said: “There are three types of dress clothing…the type that offends the wearer, the type that offends the viewers, and the type that offends everybody. I’m going for the third type” (X-Wing: Starfighters of Adumar)

Hungry for more Star Wars Legends content? Follow @from-a-legends-pov and check out our upcoming Star Wars Legends fanfiction event, From a Legends Point of View, HERE. Signups open April 28 — please encourage your favorite Star Wars writers to participate!

[oftenlyshitposting]

thinking thoughts about shin and blasters since we haven't seen shin shooting away with a blaster

do you think shin has the obi-wan "so uncivilized" attitude with blasters and much prefer using the force ezra 'hippie space jesus' bridger way when she doesn't have her lightsaber?

or is she suspiciously good with blasters and the reason why she doesn't use them is because she goes danny 'so anyway i started blasting' devito with blasters that it turned sabine on so much?

i mean, we've seen shin fly a starfighter and is a pretty good pilot slash squadron leader which means she's had weapons training beforehand, right?

it'd be so funny if shin and sabine had to reluctantly (but not really) team up against a group of enemies and she goes "fuck it", snatches one of sabine's blasters from her holsters, and shoots away; while sabine is just there completely flabbergasted before finally joining shin

[aclowntiny]

May the Flirts Be With You- Seonghwa x Female!Cosplayer!Reader

It adds years to my life as a massive Star Wars nerd that a member of one of my ult groups is one too 🫶🏻 him making a May the 4th post = instant serotonin. It's 3 weeks late, but here's a corny little fun post for SW Day 😁

Word Count: 2394 | Conventions, Nerds to Lovers lmao, that trope I've accidentally created where Yeosang plays cupid | Warnings: the con is really generic because I didn't want to rip anything real off too much & have it be something they couldn't go to lmao, plus that way I could make other popular sci-fi references >:3

“Isn’t the cloak a bit much?”

"Come on," Seonghwa half-jokingly whined, "you said you were going to appreciate everything."

Yeosang had joined him at a sci-fi convention, something Seonghwa had always dreamed of attending. Artists sat at tables showing their amazing creations, groups of friends and family took pictures with signs and props, and of course the place was flooded with cosplayers and merch. They'd even passed by the 501st Legion.

"I do," Yeosang assured him, nodding towards an artist table stocked with hyperrealistic head sketches of the classic Star Trek cast, "like look at those. I don't even watch the show and I kind of want one."

"That's why they say these cons are so expensive, like look over there!" Seonghwa pointed eyes widening. "There's a guy selling discontinued Star Wars lego sets!"

"Oh, boy," Yeosang muttered, but with a smile as his hyung dragged him over to the man's table, where he started eagerly digging in, that childlike wonder Yeosang knew so well starring his eyes.

"This is a fun little ship," Yeosang commented, picking up a small packet, "I like the yellow."

Seonghwa turned, then gave a nod. "The Naboo Starfighter! That is cute, you should get it for your shelf."

"You know what, maybe I will."

"That's the spirit! As for me, I'm between the AT-TE and the TIE Advanced set."

"Go with the cheaper one."

Seonghwa stuck his tongue out at Yeosang, who mirrored the gesture, then giggled in spite of himself. He wasn't the only one who made the sound, though; Seonghwa swiveled around, ready to greet another lego enthusiast, but what he saw had his fingers involuntarily loosening, almost sending the (slightly overpriced, in his opinion) AT-TE set tumbling back onto the red-and-black tablecloth.

It was a girl, a young woman about his age, dressed head-to-toe in a perfect Princess Leia cosplay. And not the classic white outfit, but the Bespin gown and cape.

You made the red outfit look classically beautiful, and whether it was all your hair or some sort of wig or extensions, you'd braided it just right, the loops falling back and at each side of your face, which was focused on Seonghwa with a smile.

"Oh, sorry, you two were just funny. You look like a Jedi and his padawan having a spat."

Seonghwa tore his eyes off of you long enough to regard Yeosang. "I told you I looked like a Jedi!"

"You sure do," you added, tilting your head toward the boxes in his hands, "what are you looking at getting there?"

Seonghwa shakily lowered the AT-TE back to the table. "Oh, well, I think I'm going with the TIE Advanced set."

"Good choice," you loudly whispered, leaning a bit closer, "355 to that one's 794. A little under half the pieces, but a quarter of the price."

"That's what I thought, like the TIE is way more iconic too, sorry Battle of Utapau."

"Yeah, I'm more into the OG movies myself."

He nodded toward your cosplay. "I see that. Did you make that yourself, or buy the pieces?"

"Oh, no, I made this."

Seonghwa feels his jaw drop, warmth pooling in his chest at the way you giggle again, this time at his expression, which rises from shock to a wide, awed grin. "You- you really? How do you do it? How long does it take? One of my roommates just customizes regular clothes and it seems like he can spend hours."

"Oh, yeah, hours is about right," you chuckle, "but it feels like the hardest part is finding the right fabrics sometimes, like these thicker ones aren't at every fabric store."

"Yeah, you really sound like my friend," Seonghwa jokes, "but you look way better."

He flushes the moment the words leave his mouth, immediately stuttering backtracks. "Well, um, that is, I mean, he doesn't do cosplay, more just like paint and cutting stuff up and-"

"Don't worry, you wouldn't believe how many creeps have told me I should have gone with the slave look," your voice cuts into his ramble, "I'm not offended. I actually appreciate it, um...what was your name again?"

"Oh," he lit up, "Seonghwa. This is my first convention."

Introducing yourself, you smiled and waved a hand at the legos he paused the conversation to purchase. "And it looks like you're getting something out of it already."

"More clutter for his room," Yeosang supplied.

You laughed. "You don't want to see mine, then. Besides, I can't help but notice you bought a ship too."

"A tiny one!" Yeosang sheepishly defended himself, quickly laughing at the m-hm sound you made.

"That's how it starts. Get him addicted, Seonghwa."

He nodded. "I'm trying."

"That's the spirit," you said with a mischievous grin.

Seonghwa nodded, then felt his eyes start to lose focus from looking at your own. "Er, well, we'll see you around, (y/n)!" He waved, starting to turn and walk away with Yeosang, who immediately shoved him.

"Whoa, what's that for?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting back to the convention?"

"Don't you think you should talk to her?"

"What, and follow her around like a weirdo?"

"No," Yeosang fought, "invite her to go check out the voice acting stall or build your legos together or at least just take a picture with her to remember her by if you're too scared to do anything else."

Seonghwa frowned slightly. "I'm not scared."

"Ok," his long-haired friend shrugged, "then prove it."

"I will," he said with a satisfied smile as he turned on his heels, heading back for you.

"Oh, hey, (y/n)?"

You turned around too, white cape billowing around you like angel wings. He swallowed, trying not to stare too hard.

"Can we take a picture? I- I haven't really gotten many pictures with cosplayers, and-"

"Sure!" Smiling brightly, you accepted his proffered phone, taking a couple selfies that left Seonghwa feeling like a boiled lobster, he must be so red. He wasn't expecting you to put your arm around him, but he sure wouldn't complain, either. You also had Yeosang take a few head-to-toe ones so you could see your full outfits and the poses you guys did.

By the time you were done, you both were laughing, especially at one selfie you caught of all three of you where both you and Seonghwa posed and Yeosang just had the most confused expression. In another, you reached behind you to the book stall, each picking one up to pretend to read. Seonghwa made a shocked face at James Luceno's Tarkin, Yeosang mimed intense focus on Timothy Zahn's The Icarus Hunt, and you pretended to laugh at the bowl of petunias in Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

"Well, thanks!" Seonghwa exclaimed after your photoshoot, trailing off before Yeosang elbowed him from behind. "Er, well, I was wondering if you are on any social media for your cosplays?"

"Yup," you nodded, closing out your Photos app with a smile at all the new shots of you guys that had been added to your phone and sliding over to instagram, "Here's where I post a lot of my photos, but if you want to see anything more in-depth or show your fashion designing friend, I can give you my youtube."

Wow... "You have a cosplay youtube? That's so cool! I bet it's a lot of fun!"

"Sure, it's where I track progress, share my processes, and do hauls and stuff too. Oh, and these guys," you shook the box of lego you'd bought at the stall that introduced you, "will get built on there, too. Hey, would you wanna be in a video?"

This time, no elbowing was required. "On your channel? Yes, of course! We could build our legos," Seonghwa replied, feeling excitement rush to his face as he strolled past a life-size Dalek, fingers reaching out to gently brush the smooth dome atop the metal structure.

"For one, yes," you said, a hand reaching up to straighten your Leia braids, "but how would you feel about modeling a legit cosplay?"

His eyes flew open. "You'd make me a whole outfit?"

"Well, I need practice doing men's fits too," you giggled, swerving around a couple dressed as Zoë and Wash from Firefly, "and you have, like, perfect proportions."

Seonghwa's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't know what to say to that. You didn't say any more, either, your interest suddenly captured by a stall selling Padme-inspired jewelry, including one thick silver choker that honestly captured Seonghwa's eyes too...

"So, uh, would you be interested?" You glanced back and forth between the stall and Seonghwa, the way your eyes peered up at him involuntarily raising the corners of his lips.

"As long as my outfit is as pretty as yours."

~

"Everyone's commenting asking if you're a professional model," you giggle at Seonghwa, glancing up at your phone as you hand him the bright orange brick separator.

He pries apart two misplaced lego pieces before meeting your eyes. "Me?"

"Yes, you," you fire back, closing your phone and leaning a bit closer, scanning first Seonghwa's progress, then his face, "have you seen yourself?"

Heat creeps back into his cheeks. "Yes, but I've seen you, too, so I know they should be asking that about you, not me."

"Wow, that was really smooth. No wonder I dressed you up as Lando," you grin, resting your chin on your hand.

Seonghwa just gazed into your eyes with a fond smile. That had been a long, but amazing, process as you got measurements, pinned him still until he was stiff all over, but put hours of work into detailing a masterpiece, complete with a cape of his very own. All the standing around was so worth it to feel the way your hands gently grazed his sides, to hear you laugh at his little comments and even feel it against his neck when you were working on his shoulders, to always make sure you were stopping to take care of yourself, too, and hear how grateful you were when he reminded you you were doing amazing, no need to push yourself. Watching the transformation, your busy hands at work, getting to embody a piece of the universe he loved so much, all of it made for some of the best weeks Seonghwa had had in a long time.

"That was fun," he commented, attaching two more pieces to the wing of the ship he was building.

"Yeah," you agreed, "especially when you almost kissed me."

Seonghwa reddened, stiffening and lowering the wing in his hand slightly.

It had happened one of the last times you'd met up when you were attaching his cape, hands on his shoulders. He'd relaxed too much, falling into watching you work with dazed eyes, dreaming of leaning in, and then you pulled a little too hard, sending him surging forward, his face almost crashing into yours. He'd managed to catch himself just in time and you'd edited that part out of the fitting video of course, but that moment, your awkward but thrilling almost-kiss, had been living rent-free in Seonghwa's mind ever since then. A part of him wished he'd just managed to fall all the way, but that also wasn't how he wanted your first kiss to go. If you liked him back, which Yeosang and Hongjoong insisted you did. Hongjoong had even taken to texting him 'May the flirts be with you' before he went to your studio, which strangely had encouraged him on a couple occasions to just say the compliment or to brush your hands a little when he handed you supplies or made sure you had water.

"I'm so sorry about that, I really was just clumsy and-"

"It's all right," you smirked faintly, putting the constructed cockpit in your hands down, "I was ready for it."

Seonghwa's brows furrowed as he fully set the wing down. "You... you..."

"Wait, I'm sorry, did I read things wrong? I thought we were flirting. But if not, I'm so sorry! I'm not good at this," you confessed, "you know what they say about nerds and all."

Any and all dissatisfaction about Hongjoong being right dissipated into the great sparkly abyss of joy rising and thudding out of Seonghwa's chest because holy cow, the super cool girl who makes Star Wars outfits and builds lego with him and doesn't laugh at his ASMR is interested in them? Sure, let him and Yeosang rub it in Seonghwa's face. He'd endure anything if it meant getting closer to you.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, either," he chuckled, grin widening by the second, "but yes, I was. My roommate even started texting me to hype me up before I visited you, look!"

He showed you the text, which was followed by a gif of Han Solo and a whole bunch of teasing ㅋㅋㅋㅋ.

"I was worried you were going to see all the youtube comments teasing me about my obvious crush on you or how cute we were together!"

His eyes widened again. "So you have an obvious crush on me?"

"Seonghwa," you folded your arms, "you don't exactly want someone to kiss you because they're like a brother to you."

"Right, right, sorry, it's just so hard to believe a real-life space princess like you is interested in a lowly smuggler like myself."

"Ok," you snorted, "that was corny."

"I was trying to be corny."

"Good," you tease, leaning in closer until your nose is almost brushing his, "I like corny."

"That's why you like Attack of the Clones. It's the dialogue."

"It's the childhood appeal and you know it! I always say they got a little confident in their millions with some of the writing, but something in it really captured a youth vibe. It's like what they did in Twilight, but better because of the rest of the worlds happening around it-" You rambled, distracted by Seonghwa's claim.

Seonghwa, meanwhile, could only stare at your animated gesticulating and think how you're most definitely the girl of his dreams. "Ok, seriously, please kiss me."

“Alright, but we’re definitely doing the cape yank next time,” you comment as you lean in, letting Seonghwa take one of your hands, the other pulling you in softly by your cheek until your lips met.

[dhampiravidi]

the story of darth tenebrous & his chase

Those eyes--

She'd first seen them the day her Master had been killed, the last week she'd been a Padawan. Despite the Jedi Council knowing that the planet of Fjerda was hostile towards Grisha like themselves, they sent their people to aid the Republic-friendly faction against invading Confederates. Jayn saw a Fjerdan, only a few years older than herself, shoot her Master clean through the chest when the woman tried to help the fallen soldier up. Full of sudden rage, Jayn screamed, and a wave of power kicked the soldier yards over. She sobbed, then went to check on her friend, her de facto mother and sister. Just as she looked up to reassess the situation, she noticed the oncoming droids--

And then a dark blur threw itself between her and the droids. It was illuminated by a colored glow, then by the blasts fired. But the blur simply kept moving, until the blaster bolts deflected and destroyed all of the incoming droids. Only when the blur stopped did Jayn see that it was a person, one who gave her a quiet, dark stare before he ran off. Aleksander Morozov, the hero of Fjerda, saved my life.

That was years ago. Since then, Jayn had ascended to the rank of Master, while on the path to becoming a Jedi Shadow. She'd added another blue lightsaber to her repertoire, and she had never taken on a Padawan, aside from volunteering to lead combat training on occasion. She felt lonely sometimes, and she had a few escorts she kept visiting against her better judgment (attachment was forbidden, not sex, after all), but she knew she was fighting for peace. According to the Jedi, that was all she needed to be satisfied. And yet, she was not. The Senate grew more disjointed by the second, Fjerda had joined the Confederacy, and the Confederacy kept upgrading their droids faster than the Republic could learn to counter them with regular soldiers.

The whole time, the Jedi stayed quiet unless directed by the Senate, and it ate at her. She knew that her mother had been killed for being Grisha, because her father had been the one to bring her to the Temple. We aren't doing enough.

The night of the first time she thought that, she dreamed of those dark eyes again. They might be on a glowing advertisement, or on the face of a Wookie, or even in the sky like stars, but they kept appearing, just before she awakened.

Ravka. A group of children had been taken hostage by a gang that had had increased conflicts with the local police. Negotiations were going poorly, so Jayn would go and deal with things herself.

She was just entering the planet's atmosphere, sitting calmly in her starfighter when she felt something strange in the Force.

@starlsssankt

[thesoundofrainbirdwings]

POV you are a Rando Mando from the covert

You spend your days chilling in the covert and supervising foundlings. It's not as if you have anything better to do.

Din walks in fairly often but ONLY to talk to the armourer because he is ridiculously antisocial. You, on the other hand, chat with your fellow Mandos every day. He avoids everyone like he's going to catch Bothan Nether Rot just from making eye contact from you all.

One day he invites a girl to the covert and somehow she ends up being a Mandalorian princess with a fancy ship and fancy paint job. Din also brings an overwrought ship. Maker knows where he got it.

Naturally Din makes a beeline for the armourer because of course he does. The princess meets everyone and is surprisingly social for someone who Din brought over. You have no idea how Din brought a princess to meet the fam though. However, you assume they're together and will get married or something.

You notice next they, for some reason, do everything together. When the covert goes to rescue Ragnar, they go together. But it's a group situation so you think, "whatever". And don't even mention the weird "foundlings" that showed up too. They are easily the ugliest things you have seen in your life. You promise yourself you won't go near them.

But then that rando Blue shows up. For some reason Din knows who he is and goes to talk to him in private. And for some reason Bo-Katan goes to join him. You stay back with the rest of the covert where you feel safe.

You go to the gathering around the fire. She listens very closely to what he has to say. Then he goes and sits SUSPICIOUSLY close to her. This is where you decide they are actually married.

The next day you are going to Nevarro. It seems they just assumed they would go together. You admit they work well as a team and her ship is actually nice. You also realise the starfighter Din owns isn't a mid-life crisis purchase either.

She shows up with her helmet off and realise she is better looking than you expected. It doesn't hurt that she is quite friendly and more cheerful than dingy Din. You can see why Din likes her.

They then go off on some harebrained errand the armourer sent them on. They take the baby and it looks suspiciously like a family trip instead of a mission.

A few days later, a fleet shows up. You start to wonder what Din did for this to happen. They keep sticking to each other though. This seems to be the one constant, even with all the ridiculous things happening around you lately.

The princess announces a mission to retake Mandalore and wants volunteers. You mull it over in your head and do decide on it but before you say yes, Din volunteers himself. You assume this is a formality on his end.

They travel in the same fancy ship though you expected it to happen. You also expected them to disembark together, which also happens. Why are you even surprised anymore?

You end up on this weird ship looking thing. You start to get along with some of the Nite Owls and chat with them. They're not as bad as you initially thought and you think you can make friends with them. You notice Din and his princess talking quietly. You assume they're having an intimate conversation and mind your own business.

The very next day, Din gets captured and you see the princess is shocked and sad. You assume this is what losing a spouse looks like.

[transitranger327]

Here’s my thoughts on when Omega joined the Rebellion: 0 ABY

“The rebellion needs pilots” implies

“The Rebellion” is at least somewhat coherent

There’s a reason they need lots of pilots

So I’m guessing this is what happened

Omega wants to fight the Empire (for obvious reasons)

Her brothers (and girlfriend Lyana) don’t want her to risk her life for a foolhardy cause

The Battle of Yavin Happens. The rebels score a major victory at the cost of nearly their entire starfighter corps.

Her family finally sees that being a pilot for the rebellion is both necessary and not doomed.

If she joined earlier she would’ve died at Yavin (all 3 rebel pilots that survived are currently canon characters, and both Hera and Rex were with Dodonna’s group by the battle of Yavin) and I don’t want that to happen to our girl. I personally think she served on Hoth and was flying starfighter escort for the transports while Luke and Rogue Squadron were handling the snowspeeders. Love the idea that she and Rex named the base after Echo.

[mayhaps-a-blog]

OK, having seen Tales of the Empire, I don't think the Thrawn stuff is as retconned as people are shouting about. Gotta get a bit puzzle-piece here - fitting pieces together - but it does all work out.

1. We don't know what Pellaeon was doing before he served under Savit, or even what he was doing while serving under Savit. His connection with Thrawn on screen could be seen as a close partnership, but honestly, could equally be a one-time introduction: Pellaeon attends a presentation on a new starfighter, Savit (if presents) grunts that it's too expensive, Pellaeon is intrigued by the design and looks up an Admiral who might be interested, forwarding the idea along. Thrawn picks it up, gets Pellaeon to arrange an introduction of his choice, they amicably part ways until Treason.

Thrawn: "I want to make sure she can fight. Sneak in my assassin to try and kill her."

Pellaeon: "...Yes, sir (?!?)"

Thrawn: "You can wait below until she wins. I'll lurk menacingly on the balcony."

Pellaeon: (mental sigh. There's worse people in the Empire, such as that blithering Moff) "Alright. Fine. Sure. Whatever. You got it, sir." (I am never working with this nutjob again.) (Two years later: kriff.)

2. Elspeth was active on Corvus, but they stated pretty directly that they were only interested in the raw materials. Lothal had specifically the fuel refinery and doomium mines. So, strip mine Lothal, harvest Corvus, assemble the parts on Corvus in the factories and ship the final pieces to Lothal for assembly, fueling, and testing. Pretty standard for large-scale production, these days - almost nothing is harvested, designed, and produced all in the same place. Even the Death Star had multiple bases for production - more, if you count the prison labor in Andor, and wherever they were shipping the raw materials from. Andor was just parts assembly!

3. They never said that Thrawn had the 7th Fleet - he said "my fleet", which is also just a term for a large group of ships. Could easily have been referring to his Task Force, which he had as an admiral, when speaking with a civilian (Elspeth) and thus using the informal term.

There's a few points I can understand people being upset about - Thrawn's no longer the TIE Defender's initial designer, although how much he may have improved on before the final design is unknown. This is in line with Legends, where we see less of a direct hand from Thrawn and more of a "collect all the genius designers to work for me" in terms of practical engineering, but we see him tinkering more in Canon, so arguments could be made either way as to how it should go. I will point out that something as complex and large as a ship would definitely not have one singular designer - that is a team effort, with the project lead's name getting stamped on the final package but a whole host of experts right underneath.

My personal quibble is that Pellaeon seems eternally stuck in his 60s-70s - this has to be at least 10 years before his cameo in the Mandalorian, and yet he looks exactly the same! Did his hair ever have color or is he just forever an old man? XD

[spacefinch]

Star Wars headcanons and ramblings: Mart Mattin edition

Part of the "eats live bugs like trail mix" group (see this post for context). Mart originally started eating bugs because he and his friends dared each other to, but now he genuinely likes the taste.

Post Rebels finale, Mart is friends with Commander Wolffe. They fly starships together and practice their fighting skills, and they like to play card games during their down time.

A fast learner, especially when it comes to languages.

I feel it's worth mentioning that Mart is only two degrees of separation apart from Jedi Master Plo Koon, and I want to get more into that. Obviously they never knew each other, but Mart has heard stories about him. (Mostly from Commander Wolffe and Ahsoka Tano.)

And if the two of them ever met (probably via time travel shenanigans), Mart would have a FIELD DAY talking to Plo and discussing the finer points of flying. And then they (and Ahsoka) have roasted space centipedes for lunch. Meanwhile, Wolffe stands off to the side, wondering why the heck ANYONE would consider centipedes a proper meal.

Mart. Is. Short. That is all.

Has a pet Loth-wolf. She's about the size of a husky when she's a puppy, but eventually grows big enough for Mart to ride on her back.

If it were not for his fellow rebels who insist that he "eat a proper, balanced diet," Mart would probably eat nothing except space waffles and whatever insects he can forage. Maybe the occasional meiloorun if he can find one.

If all was peaceful and there was no Empire (or later, First Order), Mart would probably enjoy starfighter or speeder racing as a hobby. He's very much a daredevil at heart, though sometimes he does get in over his head.

He's known his friends Gooti and Jonner for pretty much his entire life. When they happen to be separated, he always makes sure to contact them and keep them updated on how things are going.

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 61: The Siege

summary: Clan Djarin fights for their home alongside the covert in the siege of Nevarro.

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: T

word count: 5.88k

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 61: the siege

Astra steadies herself with a calculated breath as she views the holoplans in front of her.

“Pirate King Gorian Shard is captaining a Cumulus Class Corsair carrying a complement of snubfighters,” Bo-Katan informs the group through the intercom, though Astra stands alongside Paz and the Armorer inside the Gauntlet’s cockpit. She watches the model of the ship appear in the blue light. “It has aerial bombardment capabilities.”

Astra grimaces at that. It gives the pirates an advantage she and Din haven’t seen in any of the villages they’ve helped thus far. She crosses her arms over her armored chest.

“The N-1 will distract the Corsair and her snubfighters as we drop in to liberate the planet below,” Bo goes on. Astra’s been well aware of this plan, but the mention of her family’s starfighter still makes her stomach tighten with fierce nerves. “Nevarro is an independent planet and no longer under remnant Imperial or New Republic protection. But it’s that very independence that makes it appealing for you to settle.”

Astra smiles at the memory of what she and Din discussed the night before. A place of their own, perhaps a cabin style, fully furnished with a warmth that can’t quite be put to words. It could be just in reach.

“You lived there once, hiding in the sewers,” Bo reminds them. Astra recalls the haunting twists and turns of the tunnels they explored during their escape from Nevarro so long ago. “But now, you can be heroes.”

Bo-Katan looks around the group and nods. Paz turns to Astra and gestures with his helmet towards the drop seats they’d come from. “Let’s return to our post.”

Astra nods to agree and starts to follow Paz. She stops for a moment and turns towards Bo, the corners of her lips lifting in a small smile. “Keep an eye on the crazy pilot of that starfighter, will you?”

Bo chuckles with amusement. “You’ve got it, sister.”

Astra beams at the endearment and continues to follow Paz. They return to their seats alongside the other members of the covert, bringing a rush of adrenaline through Astra’s veins. It’s been many months since their last battle at Mos Espa, aside from the quick fight she participated in against the cyborg on Mandalore. But just as Din had reminded her before, she’s been training for this, and now she has armor and additional weapons that will help her.

It’s not the battle she’s nervous for, though. It’s the fact that most of her heart remains in the sky above the village, preparing to take the heat of the attack to allow for her and the others to move in. Astra would never doubt Din, and she won’t start now, but love doesn’t allow for rationality and logic. Her heart won’t beat in its same steady rhythm until all three of them are back in her arms, safe and sound.

The drop out of hyperspace is loud from where Astra sits. She tightens her gloved hands into fists on top of her armored thighs. She wishes she could have a helmet to hide the way her lips twist in worry at the thought of Din starting the plan. Instead, she looks down, comforting herself the best she can with memories of Din’s cleverness and strength in times such as this.

“You’re a protective pair,” Paz observes, drawing Astra from her thoughts as she looks up at him. His helmet’s tilted at her.

“The galaxy hasn’t always been kind to us,” Astra informs him. The scar that stretches across her face tells the stories she doesn’t wish to relive.

“I understand.” Paz’s modulated voice is low. His armored shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. “But it seems that with each challenge you’ve faced, you’ve become stronger.” He gestures to the armor Astra now wears. “This time won’t be any different.”

Astra’s jaw relaxes and makes way for a small smile. “Thank you, Paz.”

Paz nods, letting their attention return to the task at hand. Astra can sense the Gauntlet’s gentle cruise through Nevarro’s atmosphere as they wait for Din’s signal. She taps her gloved fingers upon her cuisses in anxious repetition. Astra can only hope that Bo relays his comm to them.

Her wish is granted. After many moments of anticipation, Astra’s comforted by the sound of Din’s voice through the intercom. “The Corsair’s on me,” he informs them. Astra tries not to react to the idea of the massive ship pursuing her family. “Coast is clear.”

The Gauntlet starts to swoop down. Astra takes a breath of preparation. “Approaching drop point,” Bo announces. “First team, prepare to drop.”

Astra looks down at the floor beneath them as it opens up. She braces herself and remembers each word of warning Din offered her during her training. Her heartbeat quickens even as the Gauntlet slows down and approaches their landing zone.

As soon as the ship stops, the Mandalorians go.

Astra’s not afraid of the freefall they take before they activate their jetpacks. She follows their guidance, easing down to the surface with a vengeance. The pirates become visible even from a high altitude and each one of them becomes a potential target. Astra thinks back to their pursuit of her family in the N-1 and that’s all it takes for her to become just as fierce and focused as she needs to be.

She pities the first pirate she finds. The momentum from her fall takes him down easily when her legs kick out at him. Astra lands with ease as she draws her blast and fires a single lethal bolt. She uses her fibercord whip to capture the ankles of another pirate while a member of the covert fires their own round to finish them off. Astra and the Mandalorian share a nod before she keeps her blaster lifted and engaged, looking around the area for any stragglers.

“Area clear,” one of the Mandalorians announces, using the comm device within his helmet. “Team two, you with us?”

They wait a beat for a response. While Astra doesn’t have a helmet of her own for her comms, she can hear what’s being said through her vambrace, thanks to Din’s help with wiring and her old comm bracelet. “Team two, moving toward courtyard,” another Mandalorian responds.

The Mandalorian from before signals to the group, his gloved fingers tapping his helmet and then pointing towards the courtyard. “Move out,” he instructs, leading the way with his hefty blaster lifted. “Stay alert.”

Astra obeys, bringing up the rear as she moves at their careful pace. She keeps both hands on her blaster and pivots with each step she takes, never leaving even a single angle left unchecked. The Mandalorians around her do the same, checking every inch of wreckage for an adversary. Astra tries not to let her heart break at the sight of the pirates’ destruction.

They’re close to the courtyard when a squeaky voice alerts them from above. Astra lifts her gaze and sees a monkey lizard hanging inside the very same tree Din had once leaned against. It points towards the courtyard and attempts to communicate with them, though none of them have to understand to realize what the creature’s trying to convey. The Mandalorian at the front looks back and speaks with severity. “Possible ambush,” he alerts them. “Take cover.”

All it takes is the Mandalorians rushing to cover for the pirates’ rounds of fire to begin. Astra hides behind a stack of crates and steadies herself with a deep breath of preparation. She stands taller and lifts her blaster over the crates, aiming and firing at whoever she can get. The lack of a scope on her small blaster isn’t helpful, but her years spent training with what she already has pays off. She takes down at least three from this distance and starts looking around to see if there’s a closer place to take cover.

The whizzing of a blaster bolt just past her head distracts her from her search. Astra whips around to see a group of pirates advancing from behind them. “Behind us!” Astra calls out, turning and kneeling behind whatever cover she can manage to fire at them. Her Mandalorian brothers and sisters help in her effort, though the balance between those ahead of them and those behind them gets harder and harder to maintain. The flame of panic starts to burn within Astra’s armored chest.

“We’re boxed in!” one of them exclaims. Astra looks towards him when she hears his voice just to watch as a different Mandalorian gets knocked down by a hard bolt to his pauldron. Astra lowers her blaster and rushes to his side, using all her strength to help him get back behind cover. She investigates the armor that’s started to steam from the blast.

“You okay?” Astra asks, glancing away only to fire at one of the hiding pirates. Her bolt finds its target with ease.

“I’m fine,” the Mandalorian responds, his modulated voice thick with gratitude. “Thank you, sister.”

Astra nods at him. “This is the Way.”

She starts to observe their surroundings again, and for the first time since they’d dropped from the Gauntlet, Astra realizes that Paz is nowhere to be found. She furrows her brow, though before she can give it any more thought, her curiosities come into fruition.

Paz flies in from above and releases his heavy-duty blaster onto all the surrounding pirates. Their mediocre cover is no match for Paz, especially as the rest of the second team flies in and makes the assist. Astra stands and joins them, exchanging her blaster for her vibroblade as she engages her whip towards one of the pirates. It wraps around them and makes it easy for her to tug them towards herself. She catches them on their vibroblade and draws it from them before they collapse.

Astra flips the blade back into her boot and retrieves her blaster to advance with the rest of the Mandalorians, charging towards the courtyard with no mercy. Paz leads the effort as he clears their path with his heavy blaster, giving the rest of them the freedom to fire and aim with accuracy. Astra’s still careful with her advance, taking time to investigate their full surroundings. She recalls the balcony she and Din once stood on before and her heart falls into her stomach when she sees a weapon not unlike the E-Web Moff Gideon once unleashed in this very same town.

Before Astra can warn anyone, the pirates fire it. The first target is another one of her Mandalorian brethren, but unlike the other, he doesn’t recover. Astra tries to race to his side, but another blast from the balcony cuts her off. She’s forced to take cover and watch as more Mandalorians become victims of the pirate’s aim from above. Most of them start to take cover just like herself, but one stands tall and vulnerable, and Astra won’t let another one of her brethren fall.

Remember to use your armor, the memory of Din’s voice reminds her.

Astra activates her jetpack to fly in front of Paz, using the momentum to knock him aside before she takes part of the hit that was meant for him. The impact hits her on the right side of her cuirass, spreading a heat like wildfire through the area and taking her breath away. It knocks her back hard enough to send her into the wall of the building just behind her. She hits it and falls onto the ground unceremoniously, rolling over a few times before she stops and lays where she is. Nothing’s audible aside from the heavy beating of her heart and the distant ringing of the battle that surrounds her. Astra focuses on regaining her breath, her gaze locked on the blurry view of Nevarro’s sky above her. The sight inspires her to think of her family who soars somewhere within it. She fights to stay awake for them.

Astra’s aware that she’s being dragged behind cover, but she can’t make herself focus on who’s responsible for the action just yet. It’s the gloved hand shaking her armored shoulder that gains her full attention and awareness. Astra’s gaze meets Paz’s visor and the few blinks she takes is what gets him to heave a breath of relief.

“Thank the Ancestors,” Paz mumbles. “Stay here, Djarin.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Astra jokes, her words uttered amongst heavy breaths. One of her gloved hands covers the beskar that had been struck. She presses down and releases a tight groan at the instant soreness she earns. It’ll be just a bruise there if she’s lucky. Astra can only hope it’s nothing worse, more so for Din’s sake than her own. The stinging on her face already promises a haunting sight of bloody cuts from the rubble she’d tumbled over.

Paz stands from where he’s been kneeling behind cover and looks up. “All clear,” he announces to the group that’s left standing. “Advance!” Astra grunts with effort as she tries to sit up on her own. Paz kneels down beside her again. “Not you.” He calls over another member of the covert, each of them throwing one of Astra’s arms around their shoulders to lift her from the ground and support her. Paz uses one hand to keep Astra’s arm secured in place and the other to shoot at the retreating pirates. He speaks over the sound of his blaster fire. “Your riduur’s going to kill me, you know.”

Astra huffs with amusement. “That makes two of us.”

While she’s unable to help them shoot at their adversaries, Astra tries her best to keep her boots from dragging on the ground to maintain the same pace as Paz and the other Mandalorian at her side. When she observes him more closely, she realizes it’s the same Mandalorian she’d helped before, a thought that makes her smile despite the ache that’s already started to radiate throughout her body.

The pirates have since started to retreat to the entrance of the town. The Mandalorians remain in pursuit of them, with Paz, Astra, and the other member of the covert bringing up the rear. Astra’s surprised to see the remaining pirates halt just under the broken archway. When they get closer, she realizes it’s the Nevarro townspeople who have stopped them, led by Greef Karga himself. Astra smiles at the sight, especially as the Mandalorians close in behind the pirates and force them to drop their weapons once and for all.

“What’s their status in the air?” Astra asks, her voice still winded. Now that her end of the fight is over, her worries can rest with her husband and children.

Paz is about to respond when the sound of a large explosion from above stops him. He looks up and Astra’s gaze follows his own. They watch as the Corsair explodes in flames and begins to fall towards the mountains behind the town. Astra doesn’t miss the sight of the N-1 soaring far away from it, something that makes her close her eyes and take a deep breath of relief. She swallows back a whimper at the soreness the action produces.

“I can probably stand on my own,” Astra informs Paz through the noises of celebration around them.

The Mandalorian shakes his helmet. “No need. We’ll wait until you can rest somewhere.” Paz nods at her and speaks with a low, genuine tone. “Thank you for what you did.”

Astra smiles at him. “This is the Way.”

Paz tilts his helmet at her. “This is the Way.”

Meanwhile, Din begins his descent in the N-1, his helmet glancing back at the seat behind him where his children’s pod floats. “How are you two doing back there?” Din asks them.

Grogu opens the pod and lifts his ears in a reassuring coo. Zora claps her hands together a few times in delight. “Goo’ Papa!” she cheers through the intercom.

“Very good,” Din responds, his lips pulled tight in a smile. “You’ve both been very brave.” His chest relaxes before it pulls tight again at the thought of his wife. “We’re going to see Mama now. Okay?”

Zora cheers once more at that. “Mama, Mama!” Din locates the group of Mandalorians and townspeople just outside the entrance to the town and lowers the starfighter. Zora speaks to him as he finishes landing it. “Mama ‘kay?”

Din opens his canopy and starts to look around the gathered crowd. He searches for the familiar shine of her silver armor. “I’m sure she’s…”

His thought vanishes the moment he finds her. Din sees Astra hung between Paz and another member of the covert, her arms thrown over their shoulders and her face cut up enough for Din to notice even at this distance. His heart drops so fast he’s half-convinced it’s actually fallen out of his body.

Din jumps out of the starfighter and slides the children’s canopy open so hard that it nearly cracks the transparisteel. He urges the pod to lift up and out of the ship and closes it, leaving the sight concealed from their children for now. Din’s pace never slows as he closes the distance to Astra, weaving through whoever stands in his way.

“Hey,” Din greets, his voice breathless as he steps forward and holds Astra’s face between his hands. He grimaces at the blood and grime he observes on her. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Astra insists. She has the audacity to smile at him, a ray of beauty that shines through the terror the rest of her circumstances brings him. “I’m glad that you are, too.”

Din tilts his helmet at her in warning. “Astra…”

“Heavy-repeating blaster,” Paz speaks up. Din’s visor meets his brother’s. “She pushed me out of the way and it clipped her.”

Din inhales a sharp breath at the mere thought of it. He glances at Astra again and the lack of breathing he does speaks for him.

“It looks worse than it is,” Astra assures him. “I told them I could stand on my own.” Despite her words, Astra’s tone is laced with fondness.

“Vizsla wasn’t the only one she helped,” the other Mandalorian at her side adds. “She pulled me out of the line of fire when I got hit, too.”

Din’s hit with a confusing mixture of pride, love, and strong worry as he reaches to take Astra’s arm from Paz’s shoulders. He supports her on his own, his visor observing her more closely once she’s standing at his side. Din frowns at the smear of black blaster grime on the right side of her cuirass. “Protecting everyone except yourself,” Din remarks. He can’t help smiling just a bit to himself. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.” Astra lets a smile of her own shine at him, her eyes falling closed as her weary head rests against his helmet. Din forces himself to take a deep breath as he looks between the two Mandalorians in front of him. “Thank you for your help.”

They both nod at him before Paz responds. “This is the Way.”

Din leads Astra back towards the N-1, the pod remaining at his free side. Astra lifts her head to look at him. “How are the kids?”

“They’re fine.” Din hesitates before he goes on. “I just…”

“Didn’t want them to see me like this.” Astra finishes the thought as if she’d pulled it right from his mind. “I understand.”

Din waits to speak more until they’re back at the starfighter. He urges her to lean against the wing while he reaches for the medpac that sits inside the ship. “What you did is very honorable, and it makes me more proud than I can say.” Din takes a solution-soaked cloth and tends to the cuts on her face first. “But it was also very dangerous.”

“Well, you told me to use my armor,” Astra defends, her words lighthearted as her gloved fingers loop around Din’s belt for stability.

Din stops what he’s doing and tilts his helmet at her. “Rid’ika, that’s not funny.”

Astra sighs and raises her brow at him. “Now you know how it’s felt for me all these years.” She gestures with her head to Din’s own cuirass. “The bruise from Fennec’s rifle, your heroic stunt on Trask, the rancor in Mos Espa, that damn dragon…”

Din’s visor swings away from her. “Okay, okay, I get it.” His visor meets her gaze again and he releases a soft breath. He should’ve known better than to assume his wife wouldn’t throw herself in harm’s way for others. She’s right; He would’ve, and has, done the same. “I’m sorry I scared you all those times. I understand what that feels like, now.”

Astra lifts a hand to cup his beskar cheek. “Better late than never.” She urges his helmet to meet her forehead. “But I’m okay, really. There’ll probably be a bruise, but I’ve definitely had worse.” Astra’s eyes close as a smile of content grows on her lips. “The battle’s done.”

Din leans into her touch. “Our home’s in reach.” He lifts his helmet from her head and continues his work on her face. “And the first thing you’ll be doing within it is resting.”

Astra laughs and reopens her eyes. “Only if you rest with me.”

Din smiles and hopes that she can sense it. “Deal.”

Astra lets Din take care of what he can on the surface. He enjoys the sound of her voice as she continues to speak. “At least your training paid off.”

Din hums at that. “Did it?”

“Yeah. I got at least two of them with the whip, and I used the jetpack to knock Paz out of the way.”

Din gives her cheek a gentle tap of his hand. “Very good, cyar’ika. I never would’ve expected anything less.” He tightens his jaw for a moment as he switches the cloth for a tube of bacta. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Don’t be. They needed you in the air.” Astra’s gaze glitters with her own pride for him. “I saw the Corsair go down.”

Din shrugs and rubs the bacta over Astra’s scratches in gentle motions. “It was just as much Bo-Katan’s effort as it was my own.”

“Then it was a job well done by both of you.”

Din’s face warms underneath his helmet, but before he can muster up a retort, the pod opens at his side. Both he and Astra glance over to see Grogu’s ears lowered in worry and Zora’s lip wobbling as she points at Astra. “Mama ‘kay?” she repeats the same question she had asked earlier.

Din watches Astra melt as she reaches towards their daughter. She picks up Zora and sets her on her uninjured side. “Mama’s just fine, Zo.” Astra kisses Zora’s head and rocks her a few times. “Everyone’s okay.”

Grogu coos, earning Din’s attention once again as the little one points at the scratches on Astra’s face. Din pats Grogu’s head for comfort. “I was worried about those, too.” Din nods at him. “But she’s okay, buddy.”

Before either one of them can continue to comfort their children, applause breaks out from around them. Din turns and stands at Astra’s side to see the crowd’s migrated closer to them and the Gauntlet, which had landed facing the entrance to the town. Greef stands by the open boarding ramp while he waits for their cheers to stop.

“Thank you, thank you,” Greef says to the gathered group of townspeople and Mandalorians. He raises his voice over the sound of the applause. “Thank you to all of you, and especially to our fine Mandalorian liberators, to whom this planet is forever indebted.”

The townspeople start to applaud again at Greef’s words. Din and Astra share a look as she rests her head upon his arm. He lifts his arm over her shoulders and keeps her pulled tight against him.

“Mandalorians,” Greef addresses them with severity, “I know that we have been on opposite sides in the past, but that is behind us.” He nods at Din and Astra in particular. Din returns the gesture. “From this day forward, I, Magistrate Greef Karga—.”

“High Magistrate, sir,” Greef’s protocol droid interrupts.

The crowd chuckles with Greef at the interjection. “High Magistrate Greef Karga,” he goes on, “hereby cede all land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon to the fine people of Mandalore. You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home. Welcome.”

Greef starts to applaud them, but the noise is drowned out the moment Din’s visor meets his wife’s gaze again. Despite her current injuries and all the hardships they’ve faced along the way, her eyes sparkle like never before at the promise of a home. All paths have brought them back to the very place from which they came that night they first met. The Djarins have a place in this galaxy to call home.

Din won’t let anything or anyone take that away from them.

“Welcome, welcome!” Greef continues to say as the townspeople applaud. “And thank you.”

The Mandalorians cross their right arms over their cuirasses. Din keeps his arm around Astra as the other copies their movement, with Astra doing the same alongside him. They bow their heads at the High Magistrate. He looks at Din for further approval, and he offers it with a firm nod of his helmet.

The crowd starts to disperse, causing Din to lift his arm and face Astra once again. “How are you feeling?” he asks her.

Astra beams at him. “Much better.”

Din lifts a gloved hand to her cheek. “Are you telling the truth?”

Astra wraps her hand around his wrist. “I am.” She pushes herself off the ship and stands on her own. “See?” Astra gestures with her head towards the crowd. “Now, we should go brief with Bo about the battle.”

Din keeps his worried sigh to himself and nods at her. “You’re right.” He leads the way towards the Mandalorians, resisting the urge to steady Astra with a hand on her back. Din scans the group for Bo-Katan’s blue-and-white helmet, but it’s nowhere to be found. He wrinkles his brow beneath the helmet and glances at Astra. “Do you see her?”

Astra shakes her head. “No.” She looks at Din with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Where could she have gone?”

Din looks around the group again, but before he’s able to answer, Paz approaches them. “Kryze is with the Armorer,” he explains. “I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

Din nods to acknowledge his words before he turns to Astra. “Can we take a look at your wound inside the Gauntlet, then?” he asks her. He doesn’t bother leaving the desperation out of his voice. “Please?”

Astra’s gaze softens at him as she nods. “Sure, riduur.” She takes his hand with the one not holding Zora and lets him lead the way. Din retreats to the N-1 first to grab the medpac before he takes her aboard the Gauntlet. They remain in the cockpit and Din encourages Astra to sit in one of the co-pilot’s chairs. Astra sets Zora back in the pod alongside Grogu, both of them looking on curiously as Din helps Astra to set the necessary pieces of her armor aside and lower her flight suit.

Din exhales at what he sees. The place where Astra was hit has already earned a nasty bruise, the colors spreading out in a frightening array. He reaches into the medpac and forces himself to speak. “Your ability to act as if this isn’t hurting you is a huge testament to your strength, cyar’ika.”

“I learned from the best,” Astra insists, smiling even as Din removes his gloved hand and starts to administer the bacta onto her skin. Her chest inflates under Din’s touch with a hiss she refuses to release to the open air. “This is a lot like that shot you took from Fennec.”

Din tries not to smile at that. “You mentioned that earlier, too.”

“It was the first time you really let me help you with a wound.” Astra’s since taken Din’s empty glove and has started to squeeze it between her own hands. “It was also when you…” She trails off, lifting one of her gloved hands to wrap around Din’s wrist and move his touch to the other side of her chest. Her heart beats right beneath his palm and Din’s face flushes not just at the way it races, but also at the memory she’s alluding to.

“You were still the first one to say it.” Din shakes his helmet and goes back to the work he’s completing on her wound.

Astra lets her hand fall to his empty glove yet again. “Don’t remind me of that clumsy speech.” She laughs and closes her eyes. “I felt so awkward after what I’d said. If you hadn’t responded, I probably would’ve just jumped out of the airlock.”

Din chuckles with her. “It wasn’t awkward, rid’ika.” He offers a fond tilt of his helmet. “It was perfect.”

Astra gives her eyes a playful roll. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Well, considering we’re now married with two children… I think it’s safe to say that your speech worked out perfectly.”

Astra remains silent after that. Din keeps his focus on his work as he fills every inch of her bruised skin with bacta and any other treatments he can find. He only stops when her quietness starts to worry him. Din’s visor meets her gaze and his heart twists inside his armored chest when he sees the tears she holds within them.

“Hey.” Din’s voice is as soft as he can make it. He sets everything aside and holds her face between his hands. “What is it?” He chest flames with concern. “Was I hurting you?”

“No, Din, not at all.” Astra chuckles and takes a deep breath to steady herself. She meets his gaze with a look Din wishes he could memorize and keep in his mind forever. “I’m just remembering how I felt back then. I spent so many years on my own and I wanted another home to call my own so badly. And now…” she pauses, giving her head a shake of amazement as her trembling lips spread in a wide smile, “I have a person and a place I can call home.”

Din runs his gloved thumbs over her cheeks and smiles with her. He wishes he could remove his helmet for her, but with the uncertainty of someone else boarding the ship, it’s a risk he can’t take. Instead, he urges her forehead to rest against his helmet and continues to hold her tight. “Those were all things I never realized I wanted so badly. I thought I was just fine on my own.” He runs his knuckles along the side of her face. “Then you came into my life.” Din lifts himself high enough to pull her into an embrace, his glove hand securing her head against him. “Thank you for being my home and for trusting me enough to be yours.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “And thank you for waiting so long to find a place we can call home together.”

“I would’ve waited a lifetime.”

Din rests his helmet against her head. “I know. But you should never have to.”

Din’s chest floods with an overpowering sensation of warmth that could only come from their children. Both he and Astra lift their heads to see Grogu and Zora hugging inside the pod, both of them smiling as they emulate their parents. Din and Astra laugh together at the sweetness of the moment as Din pats his children’s heads. They look at him with radiant joy, though Din still forces himself to look away from them and release a soft exhale.

“We should head back out there,” Din says, helping Astra to fix her flight suit and put all of her armor back on. “Bo-Katan should be back soon.”

Astra helps Din with her armor in silent agreement. Once they’ve finished, he takes the medpac along with some of the storage Bo had let them use on the Gauntlet and unloads it just outside the ship. Din opens the crate of rations for the covert and Astra helps him sort through it. It’s not long before Grogu coos to alert both of them, and when Din looks up, his breathing stalls with panic for a long moment.

Bo-Katan approaches with the Armorer at her side, though the Nite Owl has since removed her helmet. Din shares a nervous look with Astra and keeps her close as Bo and the Armorer stop just in front of the Gauntlet. Bo’s brow is furrowed in uncertainty as she glances at the Djarins.

“Bo-Katan Kryze is going off to bring other Mandalorians in exile to us,” the Armorer announces to the group of gathered Mandalorians, “so that we may join together once again.”

Paz has since stepped in front of the Gauntlet’s boarding ramp, as if he’s blocking Bo from going inside the ship. “But she shows her face,” he argues. His words cause chatter to rise amongst the group. Din and Astra remain silent, instead sharing another look.

“Bo-Katan walks both worlds,” the Armorer insists. “And she can bring all tribes together.”

Bo gives Paz a hopeful look. Paz’s helmet turns and Din’s surprised to find that his Mandalorian brother seems to be seeking approval from him. Din offers a firm nod and that’s all it takes for Paz to relax and start stepping aside for Bo.

The Armorer lifts her helmet in decision. “It is time to retake Mandalore.”

The crowd of Mandalorians starts to call out in fierce agreement. Before Din can even turn to Astra, Bo approaches the two of them, her gaze looking between them with the ghost of a smile spread on her lips. “I would be honored to have the two of you by my side for this effort,” Bo-Katan says, her voice low and hopeful.

Din looks over at his wife, anticipating the weariness of having to leave a home they’ve just gained. Instead, her gaze shines with determination as she raises an eyebrow at him. “One more adventure wouldn’t hurt,” Astra agrees.

Din sets his hand over her back and nods before he looks at Bo-Katan once again. “Count us in.”

Bo lets her full smile spread as she returns his nod. Din takes a quick glance around the covert with the view of Nevarro’s town sitting in the background. Their fellow Mandalorians had helped Din and Astra save the place that will become their home. It’s the least they can do to return the favor.

One more adventure, Din tells himself, though all he can do is wish upon every single star in the galaxy that this one keeps his entire family safe and brings them back to their home as quickly as possible.

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

security tag list: @themilkface​​​​​ @heyitsjaybird​​​​​ @theindiealto​​​​​ @maryan028​​​​​ @lamnothome​​​​​ @taman-a​​​​​ @tmnt-would2​​​​​ @valeecruz16​​​​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​​​​ @maajikcrossing​​​​​ @notawhitegirlblog​​​​​ @mrsparknuts​​​​​ @ezraslittleblondestreak​​​​​ @hoodedbirdie​​​​​ @nerd-without-a-cause​​​​​ @daffodin-blog​​​​​ @vernon-dursley​​​​​ @remmyswritings​​​​​ @rintheemolion​​​​​ @angelbabymed​​​​​ @myguiltypleasures21​​​​​ @whats-a-blog-again​​​​​ @lv7867​​​​​ @salty-sith-bitch​​​​​ @lifeisapitch15​​​​​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​ @blackcupidangel​​​​​ @irishfaulk97​​​​​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​​​​​ @creating-constellations​​​​​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​​​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​​​​​ @mermaidbrina​​​​​ @lanie103​​​​​ @elizabethren​​​​​ @stardustandkyber​​​​​ @t3a-bag​​​​​ @dxnxdjarxn​​​​​  @orneryscandalousevil​​​​​ @simpfordin​​​​​ @magicrowiswritingstuff​​​​​ @myheart-pedro​​​​​ @bewitchedbodyandsol​​​​​ @marvelous-glims​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​ @peachyaeger​​​​​ @mrs-djarin-89​​​ @murdertoothpick​​​ @jackiereadsfics​​​​ @lemonlaides​​​​ @mythicalmo​​​​

all star wars characters: @hugmekenobi​​​​​​ @themarvelousbee​​​​​​ @nembees​​​​​​ @amneris21​​​​​​@wildmoonflower​ @bombshe77​ @harriedandharassed​ @againstacecilia​ @ladykatakuri​ @bludyl​ @erin-is-sky​ @tanzthompson​ @murdertoothpick​​ @mandoloriancookie​ @prettysbliss​ @johnwicks-tie​

din djarin: @swol-bear​​​​ @notagamersdey​​​​ @les-ingenue​​​​ @booksaremyyoga​​​​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​​​​ @dheet​​​​​ @mccn-bcys​​​​​ @alwaysdjarin​​​​​ @reader-without-a-story​​​​​ @cyaredindjarin​​​​​ @toobsessedsstuff​​​​​ @unofficialavenger90​​​​​ @tizylish​​​​​ @your-slutty-gf​​​​​ @untitledarea​​​​​ @mildlyhopeless​​ @lexloon​​ @jellybeanstacey0519​​ @uwiuwi​​ @lake-145​​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​​ @hello-th3r3​​ @jackiereadsfics​​​ @dindadjarin​​ @srim01997​​ @avidreader73​​ @trek-and-wars-are-equal-stars​​ @evangeliamerryll​​​​

​↳ add yourself to a taglist here!