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#the mandalorian and the jedi fanfic
glouchyouchy · 4 months
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The Mandalorian and the Jedi, Ch11
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51672316/chapters/135732745
Hi there! I'm back - AND finally with a new chapter. :)
( I know it's too early, but I wrote this for the Sabezra event next week - but I'm going to be extremely busy at work ( writing this fic has, in many ways, been my sole refuge these past months ) by then, so I figured I'd post this now :) )
Anyhow...
Hope this hits the spot, hope all is going well this February, dear reader. Thank you for reading ^_^
glouchyouchy
[ EDIT 1 : My goodness, I can't believe I forgot to thank @jedimandalorian for her ideas regarding Sabine and Ezra ( specifically why they'd fall for each other, and why they're so perfect for each other ^_^ Her fic, I'll Be Home for Life Day ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/51796369 ) is a must-read, in my humble opinion ^_^ ( for those younger boys and gals who may be reading this post : read her fic if you want to know how to treat someone right :) )
While I'm at it, and while I didn't forget to shout her out in the notes at the bottom of the fic, thanks @alphaofdarkness for inspiring the imagery for the last part of this chapter ^_^ ]
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roachsauce · 6 months
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hey. hey. go read mando’jekai jedi by anonymous on ao3
literally the best feemor tropes all in one fic, and its jaster/feemor canon divergence
plus many funny outsider pov scenes and lots of banter
(i’ve only known orar for one chapter, but if anything happened to him i’d kill everyone in this room and then myself)
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SW - ALL TYPES OF LOVE WEEK
INFO
Star Wars: All Types of Love week is a fandom event of fancreations, lasting a week, that celebrates love in its many forms! Since we celebrate romantic love and familial love often, we thought it might be time to give an opportunity for other kinds of love to shine!
Inspired by the Ancient Greek Philosophers and their seven kinds of love, we aim to showcase those different, less celebrated loves. Rooting for the little guys!
HOW TO PARTICIPATE
No sign-up, nothing. Just create!!!
Post during the appropriate week and you’re good!
We welcome any kind of creation, as long as it is truly yours. Even old posts being reblogged is fine! Old creations deserve as much love as new ones.
Fanfics, fanarts, moodboards, fanvids, fancomics, banners, playlists… An epic fic or a 100 word drabble, an amazing painting or a stick figures funny scene- we love it all!!
WHEN TO POST
Wednesday 7th of February, 00h00 PST, to Wednesday 14th of February, 23h59 PST.
HOW TO POST
Post under the tag SWATOLW during the week the event is running. Add the tag of the type of love you are representing. 
Be sure to @ us so we can appreciate what you’ve made and put it in the round-up!
WHAT TO POST
Star Wars characters, places, animals, games… Be it from the movies, the novels, the comics, the shows like The Clone Wars, The Mandalorian, Andor or even your own OC, the important parts are:
It must be from the Star Wars fandom
It must be about Love and that love must be not romantic or familial
To get a better idea of what we mean by that, you can read more about the seven types of love here. In short, we want to give a chance to shine to:
Love of Friends #philia
Love of Strangers #agape
Love of Partners #pragma
Love of Players #ludus
Love of Self #philautia
You can post about any of these, at any time of the week. There isn’t a day assigned to each type. The point is to create without pressure and celebrate all the types of love we don’t often focus on! The more of these you depict, the more we will love you for it!
QUESTIONS
“I love my two clones who are bffs, but they are clones. Does their love count as familial?”
Well, the truth rather depends on your point of view how you present it.
Pairs like Fives and Echo, and Rex and Cody, are usually understood in canon and fandom to be family. They can be friends too, but we’d prefer to focus on other pairs for this event. Post another time. We’re sure people will love it.
Alpha-17 and Cody have a cross-generational friendship? As long as the way their relationship is described/shown isn’t the dynamic of big brother & younger brother, or father figure & son figure, it’s good!
Want to show off Waxer & Boil being two peas in a pod? We would love that! As long as it isn’t a ship or they, the characters, don’t feel like the other is kin in the way we understand it.
“I want to show my two Mandalorians who are Partners In Bounty Hunting, but they are from the same clan. Does this work?”
No. I’m sorry, but it does not. We consider clan to be the SW equivalent of immediate family, a close circle, so it’s not the right event for this. But it does work if they are just from the same house or faction!
“Can I do two Jedi who are teammates and lovers?”
You can show any characters (two, three, four…) having a relationship that is sexual and based on love. As long as that love is not romantic.
If what moves your Jedi is the sense of purpose found in duty, the common love for the Light and the wider galaxy, the playfulness and affection shared between bed partners, these feelings can be as big as the moon, and it is still fine!
That is the whole point!
Feelings can be enormous and serious and important and still not be romantic or familial.
But if it’s shown or implied that the relationship is romantic/familial or turning so at some point, that is not what our event is focused on.
We know people are a bit tired from the holidays and that Valentine’s Day is a period often rich with events, which is why we put these conditions so it can be as low-pressure as possible. The point is to rejoice in all the breadth and the richness of the human sentient experience of love. In the love of Star Wars. And in the love of this community.
Be civil and show goodwill to participants and spectators. Be kind. YKINMKATO. Go crazy! Be creative! Have fun!
Love!
@swfandomevents
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Noetic
Summary: Din relies on the teachings of his Jedi companion to wield the Darksaber.
Pairing: Din Djarin x Jedi!reader
Word Count: 700
Noetic: Adj. Meaning of or associated with or requiring the use of the mind.
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“You’re fighting the Darksaber,” 
“It’s fighting me,” Din grunts, the blade tipping down, slicing a crescent shape into the grass below. As much as Din attempts to overrule it, the saber triumphs over him. And his anger only makes the gravitation heavier. 
“It didn’t survive over a thousand years to be outmatched by one Mandalorian. Even by one as muscular as you.”
Din swears, laden with his own emotions. Typically any flirtatious comment throws him, but he’s too frazzled to acknowledge it. He retracts the blade and throws his arms up. You half expect him to chuck the saber into the nearby lake. Instead, he tosses it at the ground.
“The creator of the Darksaber was both Mandalorian and Jedi,” you bend down to retrieve the handle, brushing off the stray pieces of grass. “what does that tell you?”
“That I’m grateful you’re only a Jedi.” Din tries to joke, but his tone is coarse, and his anger slips through the modulator. You travel to him, taking a gloved hand in yours. Your fingers delicately wrap his own around the handle.
“You’ve mastered the ways of Mandalore. Now, you have to think like a Jedi.”
“What does that intel?”
You let his hand drop, planting yourself on the plush grass and crossing your legs. “Sit.” 
Din squats and stares at you expectantly through the sharp line of his visor. He gestures with his hands, waiting. 
“Ass on the ground.” 
A sigh escapes the modulator as he obeys your request. 
“What do you feel?”
“Grass.”
This was going to be a long day. 
“Look within.”
Another sigh. “Frustrated.”
You roll your hand, urging him to continue. 
“Frustrated that I can’t get this blasted thing to work.”
“Close your eyes.”
Din simply stares at you. He hasn’t survived this long by shutting his eyes to the world around him. 
“Do it.”
Din wonders what the force entails for you to see past his mask. But he recalls it’s not through the physical objects themselves but through himself that you sense his reluctance. You possess an inward gaze into the world around you, a clarity towards the people and, in this case, objects. Maybe, just maybe, Din needed some of that lucidity too. 
“Hold the handle,” you start. Din rubs a thumb over it. “Think of the blade’s intentions. After a thousand years, what is it seeking?”
“It’s just a blade.” Din deadpans. He peeks and is met with your enraged glare. Even for a Jedi, you’re losing patience with him. And it scares him. “It wants the possessor to fight in the name of Mandalore.”
“Go on.”
“It’s traded hands,” Din thinks of Bo-Katan and Moff Gideon. “many times. It wants to be in the right hands. Maybe I’m not those hands.”
“Maybe it needs to feel your intentions like I can feel you peeking.”
Din squeezes his eyes shut. He wouldn’t let anyone else cripple him in such a way. But here, with you, Din complies. “I want to serve my creed, to build Mandalore up again,” he thinks of you and Grogu. “But mostly, I need to protect my clan.”
Din can’t see your smile, so you let it blossom on your lips. 
“Now, instead of focusing on your emotions,” he hears you shuffle but dares not to open his eyes, afraid to lose his train of thought. “think of your intentions and raise the blade.”
Din gazes up at you with partial-focused eyes. He feels… calm. Introspect isn’t something Mandalorians are taught, nor is peace. Even at his age, he still has a lot to learn. He imagines that this is how you always feel whenever you meditate. Tranquil and grounded. Perhaps it’s because he’s thinking of you.
You wait as Din shuffles to his feet. He grips the handle in his hand and extracts the blade in a swift motion. You match his movement, and your light-colored saber contrasts the Darksaber. 
“Imagine that you’re defending Mandalore. Defending Grogu. Defending me. Manifest it.” And when Din pictures it, you strike. 
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penvisions · 21 days
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of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC
Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.
Word Count: 9.5k
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!
A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
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Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.
It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.
There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.
“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.
“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.
“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.  
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Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.
Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.
“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”
“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.
“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.
“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.
“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”
“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”
“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.
“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”
“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.
“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”
“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”
“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.
“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.
“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.
“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.
The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.
“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.
Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.
Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.
“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”
“I can’t leave my post.”
“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”
“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”
“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”
Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.
“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”
“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.
“It’s Aliit.”
“Aliit…and?”
“Oh, ad’ika.”
Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”
“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.
“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.
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The ringing lasts well into the night.
When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.
She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.
The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.  
She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.
She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.
“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”
“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.
“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”
“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.
Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.
“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.
“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.
She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.
“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”
“Of course, Princess San.”
“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.
“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”
“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”
“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”
Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.
It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.
But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast.  The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.
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“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.
Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.
Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.
“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing.  San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.
“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.
It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.
“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”
“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”
“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”
“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”
“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.
“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.
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Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.
Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.
Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.
Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.
Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.
 “Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.
“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.
“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.
“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.
“I think…he would like that.”
“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”
“He’d like that too.”
“And you?”
His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.
“I’d like that very much.”
You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.
“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.
“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”
“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.
Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.
“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.
“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.
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“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.
“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”
“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.
“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.
“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.
“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”
Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.
“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, that’s not nece-“
“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.
Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.
Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.
You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.
Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.
But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.
The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.
Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.
Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.
Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.
“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.
Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.
“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”
“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”
And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.
“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.
“Oh!”
“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.
“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.
“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.
“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”
“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“
“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.
“Yes, s-sir.”
“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”
“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.
Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.
He delivered one last command over his shoulder.
“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”
The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.
“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.
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Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.
You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.
You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.
The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.
Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.
You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.
It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.
The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days. 
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You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.
“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”
“Of course, mesh’la.”
He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.
“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”
“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.
You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.
And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.
“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”
His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.
“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”  
You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.
“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?
“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.
“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.
“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.
“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.
“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“
“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.
“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.
“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”
“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”
Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.
“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”
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imaginedisish · 2 years
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Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)
A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!
Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*). 
Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...
Word Count: 3,221
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The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.
But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.
It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.
“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.
“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.
“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.
You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.
You quietly wish he was still looking at you.
And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”
You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.
“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.
If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.
He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.
“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.
“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.
He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.
After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…
No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.
“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.
All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”
“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.
The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.
He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.
He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.
You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.
He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.
Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.
Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.
“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.
Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.
He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.
You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.
He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.
You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.
He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.
You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”
He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”
You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?
But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.
“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.
“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.
You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.
“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.
You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”
He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”
His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.
You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.
“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.
“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.
His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.
He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.
“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.
His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.
He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”
You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”
Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.
“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.
You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.
“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.
Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.
He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.
His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.
“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”
You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.
He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.
“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.
He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.
“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.
He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.
“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”
“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.
“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.
He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.
“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”
He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…
“Always.”
Yeah, I saw sparks
Yeah, I saw sparks
And I saw sparks
Yeah, I saw sparks
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inquisitor-apologist · 11 months
Text
All the problems in the Mandalorian could’ve been solved if Sabine had kept the Darksaber
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Text
Stars Collide; Star-Crossed
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Summary: Their love was an unexpected journey, a clash of two different worlds. Din Djarin, the skilled bounty hunter, and the young Jedi with a powerful heritage. Together, they embarked on a quest to protect the galaxy and one very special child, learning to trust each other and discovering a bond that transcended their differences.
pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader
warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.
Chapters
000. — the prologue — [As the dust settles, Din can't shake the weight of an indescribable feeling. A feeling that he's done something he can never make amends for. Little does he know, fate has plans to intervene and an unknown ally is on their way to his aid.] 001. — the force of nature — [As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.] 002. — the battle for the baby — [Din and his partner fight as one, their expertise unrivaled as they battle the Imperial agents. Their unwavering determination to protect the Child drives them forward, overcoming every obstacle with fierce resolve.] 003. — the escape — [Din and his partner, along with the droid and the Child, find themselves in a tense standoff with the guild leader Greef Karga. With blasters drawn, they stand united to protect the Child at all costs.]
☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.
☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.
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samantha-rae-velcher · 11 months
Text
Past comes to haunt, future to save
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Din Djarin x Fem reader
Requested by: none
Warnings: Jealousy, Swearing, violence, sexual tension, use of a knife, spicy at the end.
A/n: 18+ NSFW if you don't like the Warnings please don't read
___
They had gotten a communication from some guy that Din knew from way back, apparently they used to fly together. Y/n was not happy with this, she could feel something wrong the minute they landed the crest in the hanger.
"I don't like this." She said as Din turned in his chair, getting up to leave the cockpit. "Hey."
Y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.
"Do you trust this guy?" She asked.
Din looked down at her hand that was gripped to his bicep.
"This doesn't feel right." Her voice came out just above a whisper.
Din gently caressed her cheek, making Y/n close her eyes.
"I don't like this either. Any sign of trouble, we'll leave."
___
Din and Y/n walked around the hanger with the man, he seemed smug. She kept glancing at the ship, making sure no one was fucking with it.
The three of them went back down to the crest, the man introduced them to a guy called Migs Mayfield. And a Droid that looked like a bug they called him Zero. A big red ugly mother fucker with horns.
"That's Burg." Mayfield said.
Y/n made a disgusted face when Burg shaped up to Din, she took note on how her mandalorian didn't budge even when the red man attempted to scare him.
"I thought you said you had four." Din's voice was gruff, it made a shiver run up Y/n's spine.
"He does." A woman said from behind them.
Y/n turned and furrowed her brows at the sight of a purple Twi'lek. Her fists clenched and uncleaned as the woman stalked closer.
"Hello, Mando." She whispered.
"Xi'an."
Y/n looked over at Din, his voice sounded full of adoration. It made her roll her eyes and look at the razor crest.
"Tell me why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand?" Xi'an suddenly came at Mando only to have Y/n's blade against her throat.
"Because I will fuckin kill you." She growled.
The giggle she let out was sickening, it made Y/n sneer.
"You're his new companion?"
Y/n felt Din's hand press against the small of her back, causing her to lower her weapon and step back.
"Its nice to see you too." Din murmured.
Xi'an smiled and came closer to Mando, she ran her knife down his chest plate and made a clicking sound.
"Ive missed you." She tapped it against his armor and attempted to make eye contact through the visor. "This is shinny. You wear it well."
Mayfield looked over with a confused expression.
"Do we need to leave the room or something?"
The main man that called them there, stepped up and pushed his way into this dog shit of an interaction.
"Well, Xi'an has been heartbroken since Mando left our group."
"Awww." Mayfield mocked. "Are you gonna be okay sweetheart?"
"I'm all business now." Xi'an pointed her dagger at Din. "I learned from the best."
Y/n shook her head and flipped her hands in the air, as the jealousy rose in her.
"That's all well and good! Can we get the fuck going!?"
"What's wrong? Are you scared Xi'an will take your Mandalorian owner."
Y/n grabbed Mayfield by the front of his shirt and pulled him close.
"I am not his pet."
"Sure looks like that to me."
___
Y/n, Mayfield, Xi'an, and Burg all sat in the cargo hold as Din was watching over Zero's shoulder in the cockpit.
"How long have you been with Mando?" Xi'an asked.
"Since he collected his bounty and handed me over, but I kicked the ever loving shit out of the men who wanted me. And I snuck back to his ship and opened the door for him when he arrived."
Mayfield's brows shot up his forehead. "You were his bounty?"
"Yeah."
Burg began digging through Dins stuff, opening the door to his weapons closet, only for Din to shut it in his face. The red devil lookin fucker turned and tried towering over Mando again, growling and huffing.
"You wouldn't scare a sleeping kitten. Sit your fat red ass down!" Y/n yelled.
Mayfield joined in. "Im a little particular about my personal space too, let's just get this done and you'll never see our faces again."
"Tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." Burg grumbled.
"Because apparently they are some the greatest warriors in the galaxy."
Burg looked between Mayfield and Din.
"Then why are they all dead."
"You flew with him Xi'an. Is he as great as they say?" Mayfield asked.
"Ask him about the job on Alzok III."
Everyone looked over at Din.
"I did what I had to do."
"Oh but you liked it." Xi'an smiled and pointed her knife at him. "You see, I know who you really are."
"D- Mando....what is she talking about?" Y/n asked.
Din shook his head. "You don't have to worry about it."
Mayfield chuckled. "He never takes off the helmet."
Xi'an fallowed in his humor and shook her head, they looked over at Y/n.
"You ever seen his face?" Mayfield asked.
"No, and if he ever takes off the mask....I hope I'm blindfolded."
"Why?"
Y/n glanced at Din, then back at Migs.
"This is the way."
Her words made Dins heart race. He never knew that she respected his creed, he always thought she found it a nuisance because she couldn't see his face.
"Your just as weak as he is." Burg said in a gruff tone, making Y/n spin around and get right up in his face.
"Neither of us are weak, and you'll find that out come whatever the fuck it is your planning."
___
The group had finally gotten to the prison ship, they were running through the corridors fighting off droids all the while listening to zero over the ear piece.
Y/n pulled Din into a corner, she held her finger up to her lips and kept her grip on his bicep. Four droids passed by, Y/n looked over watching them walk up the hallway. She could feel Dins gaze on her, his thumb came up to caress her cheek.
"You don't have to be jealous." He whispered.
She locked her eyes on his visor, the deep black was almost bone chilling. If he was anyone else, she would be afraid.
"Jealous of what? Xi'an? I'm not."
"I never mentioned Xi'an....you did."
Y/n felt his hand move to her hip, gently squeezing. Her breath hitched at the warmth his hand spread over her body.
"Din I-"
"Hey are you guys coming!?" Migs yelled from down the hall.
The five of them made it to the control room, zero was babbling about a organic signature in the room but Migs didn't listen.
"Yeah yeah, open the door!"
They entered the room and man jumped out of his chair, pointing a blaster at them. Burg and Mayfield circled him, the man was obviously scared.
This went on for a good few minutes, Din trying to talk him into putting his weapon down. Mayfield yelling at din, both of them pointing their blasters at each other.
And it all led to Xi'an killing the poor bastard.
"Would you all shut up." She said in a bored voice.
Din looked over at Y/n who was glaring at Xi'an. He had never seen such anger in her eyes, she looked as if she wanted to kill her.
"You didn't have to kill him."
Xi'an stood, her smile made Y/n sick. "It was quicker than negotiating. none of you had it under control, so I killed him. All you were doing is waisting time."
Xi'an then ran out the door, the others fallowing until Din stopped and turned back to Y/n. She was standing there looking down at the poor man's body.
"Y/n, we have to get moving." He whispered.
"This is what you did? Killed innocents when they stood in your way? Is that what you did?"
"No."
"I'm having a hard time believing that." Y/n got closer, she could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. "What was Xi'an talking about back on the ship?"
"Hey Mando! You coming!?" Mayfield yelled from down the hall.
"Something is going on." Y/n whispered, handing him the distress beacon the man was holding. "They're up to something and I don't fuckin like it."
With that she made her way to the others, Din looked down at the dead officer on the floor as he left the control room.
The group ran through the halls once more, Burg battered down on a big droid and threw it to the floor. A droid came walking around the corner yelling "Intruder alert!", Y/n grabbed it by the neck and slammed it into the wall, pulling it's head off. Sparks flew as it's body fell limp, the prisoners cheered and hollered as the group continued down the hallway.
They made it to the cell, Mayfield opened the door and inside was a male Twi'lek. Y/n frowned, this guy was no doubt Xi'an's brother.
"Qin." Din said.
"Mando, funny the man who left me behind us now my savior."
Burg grabbed Y/n and threw her into Din, they stumbled into the cell and landed on their backs. Just as the door was about to close Din fired his blaster, it bounced off the door and the walls. Mando covered Y/n as the blaster bolt hit him in the beskar.
"I told you this wasn't right! Did I not say they were up to something!?" She yelled, clenching her fist as she landed a punch to the door.
Din pulled her over by the arm, he gripped her wrist and examined her hand. Her knuckles her bleeding and her hand was shaking.
"Calm down." He said, pressing his forehead to hers. Y/n closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cold beskar against her skin.
"Din, they know the kid is in the bunk. If they get to crest chances are they're gonna hurt him."
"That's why they won't make it to the crest."
___
Mayfield and the rest of the fuck head brigade made it half way back to the ship when Zero came on the coms.
"Zero to Mayfield, we have a problem."
"What is it!?"
"They have escaped."
"AHH!" Xi'an yelled. She pointed her dagger at migs, getting really close. "I told you we should've ended them."
"I know I know."
Suddenly the lights turned red, they all felt their hearts jump into their throats as the door closed between them.
"Brother!"
"Zero! Where is he!?" Mayfield yelled. "Zero!?"
"Sister." Qin said. "Go with the Devaronian. Find Mando and kill him, Mayfield and I will try and make it back to the ship."
___
Y/n fallowed Din through the corridors, they ducked into a large vent and Din held his finger up to his helmet, motioning for Y/n to be quiet as Burg and Xi'an ran by.
When silence covered the area, Y/n let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Din looked out of the vent and started to leave when she grabbed his arm and pulled him back in.
"You go after Burg, and I go for Xi'an." Y/n whispered.
He nodded and left the vent, Y/n crawled further in and went up an air shaft. She made her way through the ceiling until she found the female Twi'lek, Xi'an was creepy through like the vial little roach she was.
Y/n dropped down, landing behind her. Xi'an turned around and threw her dagger at Y/n. She caught it and ran at the Twi', grabbing her shoulders and kicking her in the stomach. Y/n flipped her over her shoulder and slammed her head against the wall, successfully knocking her out.
Y/n ran up the hall with Xi'an in tow, she was about to run passed a cell when she saw Burg out cold laying on the floor. She shrugged and harshly threw the Twi'lek in there with him.
Y/n was rounding a corner when she heard footsteps behind her, she spun around and took a swing, her fist was caught and she was held against the door of another cell. To her surprise and pleasure it was Din, she felt warmth rush to her core when she realized what a vulnerable spot he has her in.
"Din." She said, her voice just above a whisper.
"Don't attack if you can't over power your opponent."
He released her wrist, slowly sliding his hands down her arms, making Y/n shiver.
"Have you found Mayfield?" She asked.
"Not yet."
"We should probably start looking."
"Yeah....we should."
Y/n kept her eyes locked on Din's visor as she moved around him. He tilted his head and fallowed her with his gaze.
"You coming?" She asked.
He nodded and they started towards the exit. Y/n turned in the direction of where she could hear Mayfield trying to contact Zero, she nodded to Din and he began walking to Mig's voice. Y/n on the other hand kept going towards the ship, she made it to the latter just in time to run into Qin.
She felt a blaster press to the back of her neck, a dark chuckle rang out from behind her, making Y/n cringe.
She turned around and raised her hands up, Qin stood there with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
"Mando's little woman." He said. "He down graded from my sister to you?"
"If you ask me I'd say it was an upgrade."
"No one asked you."
"I don't need your permission to speak."
Qin chuckled and began rambling off about how he was gonna hold her as a hostage and Mando was gonna give him the crest and how the two of them were gonna be stuck here and blah blah blah.
Din came up behind him and smacked Qin over the head with a droid arm. Y/n smiled as the Twi'lek fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"The kid." She said, turning around and scrambled up the latter. Y/n froze when she saw Zero pointing his rifle at Grogu, she felt rage as she ran up and knocked him over. Y/n ignited her lightsaber, slicing through the middle of the droid.
The sound of Din dragging Qin up the latter startled Y/n. She quickly hid her saber and ran to help.
___
They had gotten rid of Qin and the man that hired them, and now they were on their way to God knows where. Y/n and Din sat in the cockpit, watching the stars race by. She bit her lip as she remembered being pressed against the wall by the mandalorian, the sound of his voice as he stared her down.
The thought of what he could've done to her in that moment made a quiet moan slip past her lips. Din's head slowly turned towards her, Y/n's heart raced when she felt the heat of his gaze burning into her.
"Y/n." He said in a gruff tone.
"Hmm?"
"Come."
He wasn't giving her opinions here, that was a command. Din held his hand out for her, she stood up and took it as she slowly made her way into his lap. Y/n could feel his erection through his flight suit, he grunted as she pressed her hand down and palmed at his cock.
Din gripped her hips, pushing her off and turning her to face the control panel removing her leather belt and pants, he then brought her back down against his chest. Din spread her legs with his so she was exposed for all who dared to take a gander at his woman.
"I won't be gentle, little one." He whispered.
THE END ❤️
Part 2?
I hope you enjoyed
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redahlia-writes · 2 years
Text
watching the world from the sidelines. | din djarin x f!reader
Abstract: An almost Jedi and a no longer Mandalorian - two people whose life had been dedicated to fighting, suddenly finding solace in the tranquility they brought to each other’s life. Quite the pair you made.
Words: 5.7K
Warnings: MINORS DNI, reader was a jedi, possible lore inaccuracies, vague mention of wounds, a disgusting amount of softness, helmet? what helmet, inappropriate use of the force/misuse of the force, smut (body worship, oral, unprotected sex, cockwarming), unedited - heavy descriptions
A/N: this was not what i had planned when i thought of this fic. it was supposed to be way quicker and overall just an improper use of the force - then i got into my feels a lil bit and this is what happened. i have a weakness for soft!din. vaguely inspired by sidelines by phoebe bridgers
also on AO3  - masterlist
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What you were doing was, according to the Jedi Code, dangerous. Irresponsible.
Good thing, you thought, the Jedis were no longer.
You could almost hear the voice of your former master, telling you the risks you were taking were too many, too big. He would scold you for your behavior, for your daring.
But you were a good teacher.
And the Mandalorian had come to you. He’d asked for your help. He’d offered to pay handsomely for his child to learn how to properly harness his power without forgoing himself.
And, truly, you’d grown fond of the little one. He’d brought a new vitality to your home, to your life, the sound of his laughter and the humming of his power growing familiar as days, weeks, months went by.
The agreement was that Grogu would stay with you while his father went where the next job took him, only to come back with his credits and the burning desire to be with the kid. In the beginning, he spent his spare time with him, either taking him away for a few hours, a few days, vanishing on his Starfighter with a polite nod - you never knew if he stayed on Lah’mu or brought the child somewhere else. Oftentimes he would be back before night came, and you’d have a room ready for each of them.
It was an odd arrangement, a co-parenting of sorts, though you never referred to Grogu as anything more than a pupil out loud - no matter the affection you had for him, the knickknacks you’d add to his room while he was away only to relish in the delight on his face, the time you learned to spend preparing meals for him and his father.
Leaving your former life behind, the Jedi way, meant that you’d found yourself losing what you craved the most: attachments. Communion. People. Your refusal of leading a truly solitary life, free of connections, free of ties, was the reason why you’d never become a Jedi in name, why the Council had turned its back on you.
It would’ve been so easy to fall into the darkness then, when you’d lost everything your life had been for, when you’d even left your home - but somehow, you’d remained balanced, in spite of the times you’d been called a hothead, a troublemaker, a waste of your talents.
For a while, you’d nonetheless been alone, unable to trust, unable to come out of the fortress built around you on fertile land and a mountain giving you shade.
Then the Mandalorian had arrived. You remembered the day so clearly. 
He’d landed a field away from your house - he couldn’t see it from up above, hidden away for your own protection. With Grogu’s pram following behind, the child tired from the trip, Din made his way ahead, wary of his surroundings.
Still, he didn’t see you coming, didn’t hear you until you had a weapon pointed right at him, forcing him to stillness.
“Don’t take another step,” he lifted his hands in surrender as the blue blade grazed the bottom of his helmet, heat rising up underneath his visor. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”
He didn’t know then that you were scared, both of what remained of the Jedis and of the Empire. He didn’t know all you wanted was to be at peace, and were ready to do anything to maintain it. It was, after all, the reason you’d ended up isolating yourself.
“I didn’t find you - he did,” your gaze followed his hand towards the floating sphere behind him. You eyed it with a little frown, eyes moving from him to the off-white surface of the pram. “My name is Din Djarin,” you returned your gaze to him. “Are you a Jedi?” the words seemed to ricochet like a slap across your cheek, eyes flashing dangerously as you backed away, lightsaber still lifted.
“There are no Jedis here, Mandalorian, you’re wasting your time,” you started stepping away from him furthermore, grip tightening around the hilt of the lightsaber. “Go away.”
“Wait,” he called, taking a step in your direction - only to be met with a solid, invisible wall. He lifted his hands, resting them against the obstacle as he tilted his head just a little. “Please, he brought us here. I can’t help him with what he needs.” “What makes you think I can?” he straightened his head, tapping gently against the barrier. “Okay - what makes you think I will?”
As if on cue, the dome of the pram opened, revealing the big, sleepy eyes of the child - he yawned, ears twitched as he picked in the foreign surroundings and then you, your weapon still up towards the Mandalorian, your curious gaze on him.
Din looked at the two of you, the way Grogu’s head tilted and he cooed softly, a greeting all of his own. Ever so slowly, the barrier gave way under his hands, and the lightsaber retreated.
“Alright,” you said at last, hanging the weapon to your belt. “But the saber you have with you - that won’t come into my house.”
Underneath the helmet, Mando frowned. “I have other weapons,” he pointed out, and you gave him a pointed look. “I know,” you retorted, turning on your heels and marching on. Grogu hopped off his pram and scurried along you, darting in between Din’s legs. “That doesn’t mean you’d be able to use them against me.”
That had been six months prior.
You’d fallen into an easy routine with Grogu’s teachings (he could be easily bribed into learning with treats and trinkets), and you’d grown used to Din’s presence more and more. It seemed to you the more time passed, the more prolonged his stays became.
You welcomed him each time - it was easy for him to slip into a sort of familiarity, of ease.
“He’s asleep?” you wondered as he reached your side by the fire - it was such a lovely night outside, it had felt like a pity to have dinner behind closed doors.
The child had ran after fireflies until he was spent, toddling towards his father’s legs, arms lifted to be picked up. Din had obliged with a benign smile - he looked pretty in the firelight, his helmet aside, the shine of his armor still covering the rest of his body reflecting the flames across the planes of his skin. You knew better than to entertain the thought for too long.
“Didn’t even make it to the living room before he was snoring,” he replied, chuckling lightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re working him too hard.”
You liked it more when he was relaxed enough to tease, make a joke, the soft smile bending his lips appearing warmer each time you looked at him. Perhaps it was just you who grew warm at his side, a welcomed burning in the pit of your stomach whenever you met his dark, gentle eyes.
“I could never,” you gasped in mock offense, resting a hand on your chest. In response, Din laughed, eyes crinkling. You softened a little by his side, chin tipped up towards him to take in the brightness of his expression. “He’s doing really well - he would’ve been top of his class back at the Temple.”
“They convinced you to work with cookies there, too?” it was your turn to laugh, shaking your head. Din adored when you laughed like that, your teeth showing and your head slightly tilted back, eyes closed. He had the suspicion you hadn’t done that in a while, too worried guarding yourself. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Have I made the right decision?” you frowned lightly, turning cross-legged to look up at him with an unasked question in your gaze. Din sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Wanting him with me rather than following Skywalker’s teachings. And then looking for you.”
“I can’t answer that for you, Din,” you told him softly, reaching up to rest your hand on his knee. His gaze fell to where your bodies touched and, self-consciously, you curled back your fingers with a sigh. “But Grogu was willing to renounce his abilities to be with you - he loves you very much.”
His eyes were still on your hand as he tugged onto his gloves a little, the movement going almost undetected by you. He shifted in his seat then, clearing his throat and returning his gaze to your face.
“What about you?” for just a moment, the breath caught in your throat. “Why aren’t you a Jedi?” “It’s…” you hesitated. “It’s a solitary life, no matter how you look at it. A life dedicated to fighting, nothing - no one else,” you shrugged lightly, looking down at your reflection in his armor for a moment, then away. “Something I wasn’t really ready to commit to.”
“But you’ve lived alone for - what, years?” he asked, perplexed.
“Yes - the irony, am I right?” you chuckled almost humorlessly, then chewed on your lip for an instant. “I don’t think I realized how truly alone I was until the two of you came along. It reminded me why I left.” “Why’s that?” he was genuinely curious. For all the time spent thinking about it, you’d never imagined someone else would want to know. 
“Family,” you admitted, voice low. “Someone to take care of, and who’d take care of me - the way you do for each other,” you looked back up at him, only to find him already looking at you, that curiosity in his eyes you knew he’d never learned to conceal underneath his helmet.
“Do you see yourself having one of your own?”
Yes. No. I don’t know, I never dared to think about it out here on my own.
“Maybe,” you shrugged again, chewing on the soft flesh of your cheek. “I don’t know. But at least I didn’t renounce the idea,” he shifted in his seat again. “Din -” you started.
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, and by the way your eyebrows arched he knew he hadn’t convinced you. It baffled him how easily you’d learned to read him, even long before he took off his helmet in front of you.
He wondered if it had anything to do with the Force.
“Did you injure yourself again?” you sighed, shifting closer. “I’m fine, it’s just -” he hesitated, not wanting to meet your gaze. “I can’t always control the Darksaber.”
“Show me,” he went to protest, but your hand rested on his knee again, stopping the words in his throat. “Show me,” you repeated, a little firmer.
Din sighed - he knew how stubborn you could get, had seen it in the way you held your ground during Grogu’s training. So he undid the fastening of the armor, taking off the piece that covered his left arm and the injury he sported on his forearm, covered by the shirt. You took off his glove before he could, carefully rolling his sleeve up.
“It’s not even that bad, I’ve had worse - I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he admitted. You reached out with your hand, not touching him, but the wound started mending itself together - he’d seen you do it other times, on yourself or on him, even on Grogu once. Still, it never ceased to amaze him.
“This is what you’re doing wrong,” you said softly, offering him a smile. “It can feel your doubts, it knows not to respond because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you,” he scoffed lightly. “If you trust your blade, it’ll trust you. It’s how these things work.”
“Even the Force?” he wondered, leaning unconsciously in your direction. “Especially the Force,” you nodded, gaze wandering across his face once more. He felt the curls on his forehead shift lightly, like a gust of wind ruffling it in spite of the stillness of the air. “The Darksaber - you can see it. You feel its weight, its shape. The Force - you can feel it, but you can’t hold it. It’s not tangible, you just have to trust it.”
“Don’t you ever doubt it?” the air moved across his cheek, and he felt himself leaning towards it. Your smile grew, wide enough it brightened your whole face, and Din took a shuddering breath in - Maker, when had he started wanting to kiss you so badly it physically ached him to restrain himself?
“How could I?” you shook your head lightly, rubbing the palm of your left hand with your right thumb, a self-soothing of sorts. “I can feel it everywhere, in everything and everyone - it’s the one thing I never doubted.”
“Can you -” he hesitated, his eyes moving towards the fire, towards the house, anywhere to avoid the weight of your own. “I mean I’ve seen you use it, and Grogu, but I’ve never -” “Close your eyes,” he turned his head to look at you as you shifted towards him, kneeling on the ground right in front of him, your back to the fire, neck craned back to look at him. He wanted to reach out, feel the warmth of your skin underneath his raring palms. “Trust me, Din.”
He wondered if you knew how deeply he trusted you already.
How he hadn’t felt the slightest sense of dread at the thought of leaving Grogu with you. While he was away, he missed his child - but he knew he was safe. Protected. When night came and he was alone, he wanted nothing more than to feel like that, too.
Going away had started becoming increasingly harder the more he thought about it.
He closed his eyes, shifting a little on his seat.
“Keep them closed,” you warned, a rustling of robes as you sat back on your heels. “I will, I will,” he said with a quiet, nervous laughter - then held his breath.
The feeling of your hand resting on his cheek had him tense slightly, warmth spreading across his face in the wake of your touch. It was a tingling sensation that moved to his other cheek as well, holding him as you brushed your thumbs over his cheekbones, ticklish and delicate.
Slowly, one hand reached behind his head, fingers buried between his curls - he leaned into your touch, lips parting involuntarily with a content sigh. The other hand moved down, across his throat, stopping right on the edge of his armor with a light pressure.
He wondered - if he reached out now, would he be able to hold you? You felt so close, he only ought to move his hand upwards, searching blindly for you.
“Open your eyes,” the whisper was distant, like it had been carried by the wind from the top of the mountain.
Din obliged, unable to remain still as he leaned forward and reached out to you - and grasped nothing but air. You were still kneeling in front of him, head slightly tilted as you looked at him, hands folded on your lap. The same hands he still felt gently brushing his hair, or above his chest.
Clenching his fists once, he brought one hand up to where it felt like his heart would leap out of his chest, trying to reach for something that wasn’t there - for you.
“It feels so real,” he murmured, and a little smile appeared on your face. Just like that, the pressure on his chest vanished, though it still felt like you were cupping the nape of his neck. “It is,” you moved, lifting from your half seated position to get closer to him. “It’s just a little bit different,” you shrugged, reaching then to touch his face.
His stubble scratched your palm gently as he nuzzled against it, turning his head just enough so that the corner of his lips was brushing your hand, eyes never leaving your face.
He had a peculiar look in his eyes, somehow both relaxed and watchful. He cupped his hand over yours, palm warm and hardened by the years of work, gently prying your hand away to expose your wrist.
He bowed his head, looking at you through his eyelashes as he kissed the tender flesh right above your pulse. There was reverence in his touch that had your stomach turning at the gentle pressure of his thumb in the center of your palm. His other hand, still gloved, wrapped around your waist.
Slowly, you rose to your feet, only to cross the small distance between the two of you, your other hand coming to rest on the side of his neck, thumb stroking his jaw and gently pushing his chin up so that you could still look at him. He gave a tentative smile that quickly vanished as you swept your thumb across his bottom lip, mouth parting with a stifled gasp.
The silence was broken only by the sound of your breaths, of the fire behind you, of the night creatures that wandered the distant fields and mountains. Wrapped in your small bubble, the rest of the Galaxy faded into nothingness.
Din said your name then, so hushed you could’ve missed it had you not been focused on him only - had you not been looking at the way his lips moved, felt it right under your touch.
“Can we go inside?” No one ever passed by, especially not so late at night - but the Mandalorian didn’t want anybody as witness. Not even the stars. He wanted it to be just the two of you.
So you took his hands in yours and led him inside the house, the fire smothered behind you without a second glance - any other time, he would’ve remained to watch it, but in that moment he just could turn his gaze from you. He let you guide him in the dark, careful steps to not trip nor risk waking the kid who slept on the other side of the house.
He’d never been in your room, and lingered for a moment at the door - it felt like stepping into a sanctum, your presence so utterly clear in every corner of the four walls. The whole house had a sense of being lived in - he’d noticed it the first time he’d stepped inside, with its books and mismatched pillows and no curtains to let the light in - but your room was familiar, the warmth he experienced by your side made into a space.
He brought one hand to your cheek as you turned to him, slowly tracing a half-moon across your cheek with his gloved knuckle. Your eyes fluttered shut, the touch so delicate it weakened your knees.
“Din,” a single sound, uttered breathlessly as you stepped closer - enough to make his resolve fail.
Your chin held between his index and thumb, he leaned in to press a kiss against your already parted lips. He kept it slow, each shuddering breath making his head spin as he felt himself melting into you, the sweet aftertaste of sunberry wine lingering in your mouth. It made you tremble against him, hands grasping at bits and pieces of his armor.
“Can I take this off?” your voice sounded distant from above the rushing of your heart, pulling your head just slightly back to meet his gaze. Pupils dilated and lips reddened, Din looked back at you. “I want to feel you,” you added, a mere whisper he responded to with a sharp inhale.
He nodded, a quick yes falling from his mouth. He could still see your hands resting on his chest as the fastenings of the armor started loosening around him, beskar sliding down his body. Unable to stop himself, he smiled.
When you kissed him again, armor cast aside, it was a little more urgent, ghost hands tracing the line of his spine up to the nape of his neck where your hands rested, drawing him closer. It caused him to moan softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist gently while backing you towards the bed.
Fingers buried in his hair, you slowly reached down his torso, stomach, past the waistband of his trousers. A surprised groan muffled against your lips when he felt you stroke him, causing his steps to falter.
“Maker,” he tensed a little, stopping himself from bucking his hips into you. “Sorry,” you mused, a wide smile spreading across your lips. “Couldn’t help myself,” you tilted your head a little, hand cupping his cheek as you left quick pecks across his jaw.
“Again,” he reached for the knot of your robe, tugging on it lightly. “Do it again, please.”
You did, still kissing his face and neck, stroking his half-hardened length once, twice, causing his eyes to flutter shut, soft mumbled praises leaving his mouth as he arched towards your touch.
“We can stop whenever you want, Din,” the reassurance had him lean into you almost fully, stepping further backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed. “I don’t want to stop,” his voice had lowered, a rasp in it as he regained his breath. “I want you.”
Agonizingly slow, he started undoing the knot of your robe, pausing only to tug off his glove. Your eyes remained on his face as he casted his gaze down towards your body - his lips slightly parted, long breaths in and out as, inch by inch of uncovered skin, he pushed the fabric down, taking you in.
Past your shoulder and down your arms, Din took his time brushing his fingertips across your skin, over old scars, then up across your collarbones, sternum, following the shape of your breasts from above your bra, your breath itching in response to his warm palms cupping you, only to keep on sliding downwards, over your stomach, abdomen, hips, your own hands holding firmly his shoulders to keep yourself upright.
“Cyarir,” he called, voice hoarse, rolling his hips at the ghost hands quickening strokes. “I really can’t focus with you doing that,” he bowed his head, brushing his lips across yours as you chuckled lightly, chest heaving as he toyed with the hem of your own trousers. You lifted your hands from his shoulders as if in surrender, only to let them fall at each side of his head, brushing his curls back. “Jat’ad.”
With one last kiss against your mouth, he dipped his head, nudging your chin up with his nose to kiss the column of your throat and, from there, make his way down across your chest. You almost succumbed underneath the warm trail of his kisses, but couldn’t find it in yourself to look away as Din sank to his knees in front of you, resting his forehead against your belly while helping you out of your trousers fully, hands wandering across the back of your thighs.
“Din,” his name chanted like a prayer as he opened your legs a little, leaning in to kiss your clothed core. The quiet hum of his response had your hand flying to his hair, holding yourself upright as he looked up at you.
Pulling just slightly back, he hooked his fingers to the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down your legs without moving his gaze from your face, caressing your slightly trembling legs on his way down. He cupped his hand around your ankle, gently lifting one of your legs up - it exposed you to him and the air, a shiver running down your spine.
You weren’t entirely sure how you were still standing, Din’s hand possibly the only thing keeping you from crumbling.
He leaned in again, leaving quick, gentle bites across your thigh draped over his shoulder, before placing a kiss against your folds. Your reaction was immediate, hips bucking to gain some friction as a strangled noise left your sealed lips.
“We can stop whenever you want, cyarir,” he repeated your words teasingly, kneading your thigh as he shifted closer. He wondered how far he could take it, just for a moment. “No,” it came out as a weak whine, fingers curling through his hair as he wet his lips. “I want to feel you,” you repeated - just like that, Din’s will crumbled.
Still holding you, he swept his tongue between your folds, slick gathering on his lips as you grinded against him, mouth falling open with a gasp. Tugging a little on his hair, you weren’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. He dug his fingers into your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he drew small circles around the bundle of your clit.
Your mind went blank, crying out as you swayed while he picked up a slow, steady rhythm - you could feel his gaze on you, but were unable to open your own eyes.
He felt you reach down for him. With one hand still in his hair following the slight bobbing of his head, and the other resting on your thigh, fingers interlocked with his, it took him a moment to register the pressure against his growing erection, his hips shifting and rutting into the air with a groan.
“Don’t,” he breathed out, and the vibration of his voice made you tremble, legs kept still only by his hands. “Just let me take care of you.”
It was nearly enough to send you over the edge, squeezing his hand while he returned his mouth on you, a quicker pace you seconded by rolling your hips. It felt like he could read your mind, shifting rhythm, alternating between licking and sucking gently, holding you tighter whenever you felt like the floor was giving out underneath you.
Your orgasm built up quickly, thighs shaking around him as your breath grew shallower.
“Din,” you called, involuntarily tugging onto his hair a little harsher. He groaned in response, and you clenched around him, the tip of his nose nudging your clit. “Din, I’m not gonna last, I’m -” a choked sob left you, head thrown back.
“I’ve got you,” you almost didn’t hear him, the ringing in your ears growing as you climaxed, all but folding over him as he coaxed it all out of you. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, and helped you sit back on the bed behind you, your leg still on his shoulder, climbing after you.
He remained with his face buried in you a few more instants. When he moved his head up, his face glistened with your release. An unconscious groan left your throat at the sight, reaching for him - you weren’t sure whether with your actual hands or through the Force, grasping at the front of his shirt to pull him on top of you.
You kissed him, still out of breath - there was something decadent in tasting yourself on his mouth, your whole body responding to it by arching towards his touch. His hand, making its way slowly up from your thigh, your hip, your waist, gliding across the ribcage until he was cupping your still clothed breast.
“You’re overdressed,” you mumbled, tilting your head to hide in the crook of his neck, gasping softly at his touches. His shirt riding up his back, he could feel the delicate scratching of your nails across his skin. “So are you,” he retorted, and you snorted, pulling your head back to look at him.
“No, I’m not,” the hand not busy rolling up his shirt reached up for his face, cupping his cheek and running your thumb across his flushed skin. Lifting your torso a little, you helped him undo your bra, leaning back to bare yourself fully to him. His gaze wandered down across you once more, tongue darting between his swollen lips. “You’re pretty, Din.”
It caught him by surprise, words softly caressing his face as his eyes widened and he returned to look up at your face, an abrupt, bashful smile on his mouth. A smile he’d chosen to show you, over and over again during the previous months. You leaned in, a quick peck at the corner of his mouth before flipping the two of you over, straddling his lap.
Din’s hands flew to your hips, a strangled moan captured between sealed lips as he bucked underneath you. Head slightly tilted, you helped him out of his shirt, then slowly trailing your hands across his chest as you leaned in - mimicking him, you left a trail of burning kisses along his skin, agonizingly making your way down his stomach, your hands following short.
All the while, ghost hands palmed him, his trousers getting achingly tight the shorter his breaths got. He groaned when he felt the fabric sliding down his legs, kicking them off along with his underwear.
“Cyarir, please,” he looked down at you, your lips still latched to the skin of his torso, light lovebites following in your wake. He reached for you, hands wrapped around your wrists and tugging you back up over him. “Just need you,” he bit out, guiding you on him again.
Locked between your thighs, Din arched upwards to grind against you - his hardened length sliding between your folds, coating himself with your slick, causing you to close your eyes with a shudder. One hand left you to align himself, the tip of his cock pushing into you slowly.
He guided you down, stretching you out while his hands gently kneaded your sides, hushed whispers of encouragement lost through the bliss that had you hold your breath, muscles twitching.
When Din’s arm wrapped around you, holding you against him to ease you on your back, the shifting made you cry out his name once more, a supplication as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. He cursed under his breath as your legs locked around him, heels digging in the back of his thighs, spurring him on gently.
His first thrusts were slow, almost hesitant, hands pushed into the mattress to keep himself from weighing on you. Threading one hand through his hair, you tugged back on it slightly, turning your head to meet his eyes - a frown knitted his brow, and you reached up to smooth it down.
“I’m not going to break, Din,” you reassured him, lifting yourself a little to meet him halfway - the snap of your hips connecting had him moan audibly, mouth hanging open. He picked up his pace a little, steady and rhythmic as he moved almost all the way out of you and then back in. “That’s it,” you breathed out, head falling backwards and eyes fluttering shut. “Maker - that’s it, like that.”
The combination of your words and keening at each of his thrusts spurred him further - a little deeper, a little harder, your walls fluttering around him making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
You started trembling again underneath him, and he let his head fall forward, searching for a rough kiss. He faltered, stuttering thrusts as he let out a low whine, feeling you clench around him.
“So close, cyar’ika,” he breathed out, arms shaking a little under his weight. He called your name, reaching down to hold your hip as you arched against him once more. “So close.”
“I’ve got you,” his own words repeated as you brought your arms around his shoulders, one hand still buried in his hair to guide him down towards the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped yourself around him, legs locking behind him and arms holding him to your chest as he collapsed with a final sough, hips pushed flush against yours. He twitched inside you, gripping your side a little harder - there’d be marks the following day, but you found yourself not minding it one bit, too lost in the second wave of pleasure that hit you.
Din’s warm breath hit your damp skin as he exhaled, brushing his lips to your sternum at the culmination of his release, one last, lazy shift as he attempted to move from above and inside you. In response, you tightened your hold on him.
“Stay,” you hummed, stroking his curls back from his forehead. “Just a moment.” “I’ll crush you,” he retorted, idly caressing your side. “Stay,” you repeated, all but melting under him, into the bed, bringing his weight with you.
An almost Jedi and a no longer Mandalorian - two people whose life had been dedicated to fighting, suddenly finding solace in the tranquility they brought to each other’s life. Quite the pair you made.
“I was thinking about what you said,” he mumbled tiredly, the corner of his mouth caressing your skin. You hummed in acknowledgment, struggling to keep your eyes fully open while running your hand through Din’s hair. “You’ve been taking care of us for a while already, cyarir - let us take care of you. Let me do that,” he moved his head so that he could look at you as you forced your eyes open, a flush spreading across your face. He reached to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your bitten bottom lip swiftly, gently. “Let us be your family.”
You drew him closer, hand resting under his chin to tip his head back and kiss him, softly. He sighed into the kiss, lips parting as he shifted a little, the movement causing you both to whine as he slipped out of you.
“Ner kar’ta,” he murmured, moving until he was hovering over you again, arms braced at each side of your head - the mattress shifted with him. “Let me take care of you.”
“You already are,” your hands cupping his face, his stubble scratching your palms already all too familiar. “You don’t know how lonely I was before you arrived here - you have no idea how much your presence has helped me,” the softness in your gaze had him kneel down between your legs for extra support as you caressed along his cheek, the side of his neck, his shoulder, lifting your head to nuzzle the tip of your nose against his. “My wonderful, sweet boys.”
He felt it everywhere. Felt you. Hands and gentle kisses and soft words wrapped around him like a whole new armor, one he’d want to take with him everywhere he went, while never leaving your side.
Neither of you had ever had the possibility to express the feelings lingering in your heart out loud - neither of you had ever learned how. So when he kissed you again, you welcomed him in, over and over and over.
For the first time in years, it was easy to fall asleep and not feel regret about a life left behind - not when it had brought you in the arms of the man who held you like you were holy.
Like he was finally home.
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peterpparkrr · 1 year
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Starlight (pt. 1)
Series: Starlight
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Summary: A Mandalorian and a Jedi. Din Djarin needs a Jedi to train the child. The Jedi is surprised to discover that she is not alone in the universe. 
A/N: s3 means new Mandalorian thoughts!
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Your life had been a lonely one. But it was the isolation that kept you safe.
You often wondered if you shouldn’t be trying harder to look for other survivors, but every time you tried to reach out through the force you just felt… nothing. 
The Jedi were gone. 
And so it was safer for you to stay out here on your own little planet by yourself, where you knew no one would find you. 
Until one day you heard the sound of twigs snapping under boots in the woods outside.
You moved to the window, silently watching as a figure stepped out of the trees.
“A Mandalorian,” You muttered to yourself as you stood up and walked over to your doorway.
You hadn’t seen a true Mandalorian in the flesh before. And you hadn’t seen armored men since you were a child. Since your master’s Battalion had turned on you. 
“I will give you a chance to leave here with your life, Mandalorian,” You state loudly as you step out of your hut and into the clearing in front of your home. 
“I am not here to-”
“-You need to leave,” You told the stranger before igniting your lightsaber with a familiar buzz, “Now.” 
You attacked without a moment of hesitation, hoping to capture the element of surprise against your larger opponent.
You’d been alone for a long time. But that hadn’t meant you’d given up training. 
Even with no master to guide you you’d worked hard to excel at your skills and had done your best to continue your training. Your master had always teased you for being a teacher’s pet. Though the end goal was no longer clear. You wouldn’t be a Jedi master.
The Jedi were well and truly gone.
But you would always be able to protect yourself.
As you swiped your lightsaber against the Mandalorian’s chest you were certain that this fight was already over. But your saber glanced off the armor in a way that made you second-guess yourself. 
Maker. Mandalorian armor was made of Beskar, wasn’t it?
That’s when you felt it. You all but dropped your lightsaber as you whipped around. 
A youngling? Here?
It only took you a few short strides before you were in front of the open cradle. Big, green ears were the first thing you saw, shortly followed by huge eyes that stared up at you. You plucked the child out of it’s cradle without a second thought. 
“How…”
You hadn’t felt this feeling in years. 
But his voice was clear inside your mind as he communicated with you.
Friends. Promise.
“You? You brought him here?” You asked the Mandalorian curiously.
“Yes,” The Mandalorian replies. Seemingly accepting your sudden change of mind as your eyes moved back to the small creature in your hands.
“We’ve been searching the galaxy for someone who can help him, who can teach him how to use his powers,” He says.
You hum quietly as your eyes bore into the child’s
What’s your name?
Grogu. 
This is my papa. People call him Mando.
You tell both of them your name aloud as you grin down at the boy.
The Mandalorian. Mando. Merely stares at you, his helmet impermeable. 
“You’re a Jedi.”
“Depends on your definition,” You reply. “The Jedi were killed in a genocide when the Empire seized power. The few who survived were hunted down and killed under the Empire’s regime.”
“My master kept us hidden from the Empire for years. She trained me here, under the radar of the Empire,” You explain. “She died a few years ago fighting with the rebellion.”
“But why does a Mandalorian have a force-sensitive foundling? I would have thought you’d have killed him the moment you found out what he was,” You ask quietly. 
“Why?” The Mandalorian asks you, his helmet cocked.
“Well, the two don’t usually get along. The Jedi-Mandalorian War? It ravaged Mandalore. Prior to the Empire. Jedi-Mandalorian relations have been pretty tense ever since,” You explain.
“I was a foundling, my covert left many gaps in the Mandalorian history they taught us,” He replies.
“How did you find each other?”
Saved me.
“I was- am a bounty hunter, he was a quarry,” Mando tells you, you can hear the slight tinge of shame in his tone. 
“I’ve taken him as a foundling, it’s Mandalorian creed,” Mando continues. “I’m duty-bound to either reunite him with his kind or raise him until he’s of age.”
“So… you want to dump him off here with me?” You ask, “I’m his kind?”
“How did you even find me?” 
“A trader on the next planet over told me I might find you here, that there were rumors years ago about a Jedi. Stories. But the child — Grogu — got excited as we entered the atmosphere and I assumed that meant we were close.”
“I’ll… I’d like to visit, I can bring you supplies, whatever you need,” Mando offers. “I don’t want to leave him. But I can’t train him to control his powers.”
“Alright,” You finally reply with a nod. You can’t help but wonder if this is really a good idea, but Grogu reminds you of yourself in those early years of the Empire’s reign. And you hate to admit it, but their sudden appearance makes it clear that you’ve been lonely. Two stranger’s appearing at your doorstep has made you more excited than anything has for the last five years. And maybe even longer.
You watched from your doorstep as the pair said their goodbyes. Despite knowing they weren’t saying goodbye forever it was clear they were both taking this separation hard. You turned away in an effort to give them some semblance of privacy, even though their emotions were flowing off them both like ocean waves breaking against a cliff.
“We’ll see you soon,” You tell the Mandalorian when he hands Grogu to you. “May the force be with you, Mando.”
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“You miss him,” You tell Mando plainly. 
Every few weeks the Mandalorian would come visit, and spend hours with Grogu while you quietly watched. Sometimes you’d all sit together, Grogu was always eager to show Mando what he had learned, or you’d share with Mando what you’d learned from Grogu about his past, what he couldn’t communicate with his father. 
And they’d say a heartfelt, private goodbye before you’d bid Mando farewell and good luck.
You and Grogu both knew that you were always waiting for the Mandaloran’s next visit. It was only natural, you told yourself. It was a routine. And it was only natural that you latch on to it.
But now it was causing a block in your training. 
“When you’re gone, you miss him, I can feel it, even without trying,” You continue when Mando doesn’t reply. You’ve grown used to that too with his visits. He’s a man of few words. You’ve often wondered if it’s a result of the helmet he wears at all times, or a convenient excuse provided by the helmet to a naturally shy man. 
“Grogu’s the same way when you leave,” You add gently. “I’m a poor substitute for you. And I make him work which he doesn’t like.”
“That’s not true,” Mando protests. “He likes you. I can tell.”
“It’s creating a block. He can’t truly push through his fears when he’s so focused on his attachment to you,” You try to explain to him. You know that he doesn’t understand the force or the way that it works. Whenever you try and explain what you’re teaching Grogu he nods, but you can tell he has many questions. 
You’d be happy to explain what he finds confusing, but he never voices the questions and it’s hard to describe what is often so indescribable about the ways of the force to someone who has no experience with it.
“You want me to stop visiting,” Mando says after a moment.
“No! No, of course not,” You reply quickly. You could never, 
It would seem so impossibly cruel to separate the two. Even though they are not bound by blood. The father and son are inseparable and care for one another more than you’ve ever seen two people bound to one another.
“I think you should take us with you,” You tell him. “Wherever it is you’re going next.”
“My work is dangerous,” He reminds you. 
You know that. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Since before his last visit. You know the threats posed to you out in the world. Especially in the sectors of the outer rim where Mando does most of his work. But you’ve weighed the dangers. It’s what’s best for all of you. The risks are worth it.
“You’ve been safe here, protected from the world for a long time, haven’t you?” Mando says.
“I have,” You reply. “But I’m tired of hiding. And I can certainly protect myself and Grogu.”
“Okay,” Mando replies with a nod. 
You’re eyes widen slightly as you study the visor of Mando’s helmet. You hadn’t expected him to acquiesce so quickly. You’d had all sorts of other arguments prepared. Answers to all the potential concerns and questions he might have. 
But you should have realized he wouldn’t protest. He missed his child. His foundling. Of course he would take you with him. 
“You tell Grogu, I’ll pack our things,” You reply with a smile as you stand from your seat and turn back to your small cabin, already cataloging all of the belongings you have, and what you’ll be able to travel with.
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glouchyouchy · 6 months
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Just finished my latest doodle ( as a visual guide for my fanfiction, The Mandalorian and the Jedi ) : this time, it’s Sabine after two years on Peridea :)
[ I CAN DO POSES WITH HUMANS NOW! ( Also, yes, this scene is from Chapter II.1 ) :) ]
Hope this helps to visualize my fanfic!
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larkoneironaut · 2 months
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🪐 Everything and more 🐚
My OC Elikai Vidis from my Din Djarin romance fic I’m currently working on. I’m soon done, so keep your eyes open for updates I’ll post! When it’s finished, I will post my fic weekly only on AO3 🖤 (Writing Ch. 30 rn, so ~5 more and I’m done, yay!)
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nonbinary-tatooine · 10 months
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i had a wet dream about luke skywalker being a priest and kneeling at the alter confessing to the Force about his desire for Din, the cathedral's sentry guard
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fanfoolishness · 2 months
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Shoutout to “everyone else was asleep” as a plot device for spacefaring fanfics
How would we get intimate heart to hearts between 2 members of a found family, sexy time interludes or pensive interior monologues while staring out at a silent starfield if the other characters were free to wander around their tiny tin can getting in the way???
Thank you, “everyone else was asleep,” for your service to stories where you just don’t feel like writing about everyone all at once
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penvisions · 4 months
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of beskar and kyber {chapter 13}
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)
Summary: Shadows and light play across your mind and feelings as you reveal more about your past to Din. Propositions made and discussions about what to do next as things back on Nevarro spiral as a result of Din's defiance of an organization he took part in for years prompt you both to evaluate everything you've become to each other.
Word Count: 12.6k (!!!)
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, language, mentions of past trauma, mentions of past sa trauma (non-descriptive), anxiety, confessions, illusions to the pull of the force, allusions to past violent tendencies of both reader and din, brief mentions of death, allusions to order 66, reader has a lot on internal monologues in this one, nightmares, bad dreams, anxiety, outbursts, emotional turmoil, readers shares more of her violent past with din, sexual content, sexual intimacy, body worship, fingering, sexual themes, argumentative language
A/N: returning to this fic with a beast of a chapter that traverses so much. it's the longest one i've written yet and i am so excited to share it with y'all. i sincerely hope y'all like everything i poured into this. please let me know what you think?
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
Water gently splashed against the side of the tub, bubbles sticking to the porcelain, small waves created by the movement of Din’s hand as it trailed down your navel. Fingers eliciting tingles of pleasure as they smoothed over soft skin slick with the oils added to the water not even a few moments ago. You gasped, head thudding back against his broad, bare shoulder as the tips of them brushed over course hair before slipping between your folds.
Your nails dug into the skin of his thighs, mindful of the healing wound there, his bronze knees bent up and cresting over the water, caging in your wriggling form nestled back into him. Your hips bucked as his fingertips ghosted over that exciting bundle of nerves to stroke down toward your fluttering entrance. Water sloshing at the sudden disturbance. He groaned, deep and gravely right into your ear, the helmet hiding little of his arousal as he carefully rubbed around it. You clenched, body feeling how close he was and needing to be satisfied.
His index finger hovered over you, a silent question and you whined out a needy sound. Not caring if it was desperate, your fingers gripped him tight, and you bucked your hips to get him closer. He circled your entrance, once, twice, three times. Pleasure rocked through you, a fire blooming to life in your core.
“Din, please,” You panted, unable to catch your breath between the heat of his body, the heat of the water and steam surrounding you both, the heat he was stoking in your very nerves. A hand shot out of the water and scrabbled at the back of his helmet; fingers slippery with bubbles.
His thick finger slid in easily, between the water and the slick that was surely tainting the water you were both partially submerged in. The hand he had curled around your middle was reaching up to cup a breast covered only in sweet, scented bubbles and you moaned. Low and guttural, the stretch so unlike anything you felt before. Almost sweet in a way that it had never felt before.
He crooked his finger, nudging it deeper inside and grazed against a soft spot that had white sparking across your vision. A keening whine sprouted from you, loud in the marbled room. He stilled for a second, reveling in the way you felt around him, clenching him tightly. There was no discomfort, with you feeling so completely safe and protected.
“That’s a good sound, mesh’la.” His raspy voice was close, the bottom of his helmet hooked over your shoulder. He carefully pumped his finger into you, trying to go slow in case it was a stretch that overwhelmed you. But you huffed as you moved against him, the palm of his wide palm rubbing at you in a way that stoked the fire licking at your nerves.
“M-more, please. Linibar or'atu, copad at aalar or'atu be gar.”
Need more, want to feel more of you.
Your words were a quiet plea on shaking breath, a heavy exhale as he gave you what you wanted, slipping a second finger in alongside the first on his next plunge into the silky, wet heat of your core.
Back arching, pressing you impossibly closer to him, feeling the hot line of him as it nudged at you from behind. You whined out as his fingers stilted and he flexed them, stretching you out to see what felt good, what lit you up even more. They crooked inside of you and brushed against something that had you crying out, that same spot from earlier, he rubbed at it deliberately. Stomach lurching, the flames that had been slowly smoldering sparked across the entire expanse of your body.
“Ha-ah, Din, gedet'ye vaabir ibac tug'yc!”
Please do that again!
Your hips bucked into his hand, urging him desperately as you felt a tightening form low in your stomach. He remained still save for the crooking of his fingers once more and you moved against him. The water licking up the sides of the tub at your rushed movements, bubbles inching higher up both your overheated bodies.
His fingertips hit that spot on each thrust as he pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, arms muscles tensing as he wrapped himself around you completely. The fire crackled and you cried out as pleasure tingled all the way to the tips of your fingers, heart beating hard in your chest. Your vision was blanketed in white sparks, and you clenched them shut and tried to catch your breath. Din’s hand worked you through the aftershocks, his palm hot against your skin where it brushed against you.
“Clenched so tight around me, mesh’la.” He rumbled into your ear, his hand gently moving away from you. He rested it low on your stomach, taking in the way your muscles jumped underneath his touch as your fingers around the back of his helmet pulled him closer. Your lips pressed to the column of his neck, tongue darting out to taste the exposed skin there.
He moaned a guttural sound at the feel of you marking him for your own, the hot swipe of your tongue giving way to a gentle nip of teeth. You felt him twitch against your backside and you shimmied back to press against him, loving the velvet softness of the hot line he made against your skin.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He said softly, despite the thrumming in his own body, the sinful sounds falling from your lips, because of him, for him, having worked him up.
“Need to touch you now, it’s your turn.” You slipped away from him with a hush of the water, turning in his grip. The tub was only so big and you nudged at his knees, still cresting up over the water’s surface to lay flat where your body had just been. You held tight to the curve of his shoulders, moving to straddle the width of his hips. You could hear the crackling of him sucking in a deep breath through the modulator as you settled over him, hovering.
“San…”
“I know I don’t have to, cyar’ika.” You leaned your naked chest to his, the soft hair decorating his chest tingling against your hardened nipples and you tossed your head back. Chin jutted up, it exposed your throat to the man so close, his hands loose around your waist tightening and pulling you flush against him. A strangled noise fell from your open mouth as his cock bobbed up and nudged at your core hovering so close to him.
“Din,” You panted, fingers splayed on his neck, reaching up towards the bottom of the helmet. He paused, his fingers so tight around your hips, and you realized how he read that. The desperate plea of his name coated by the velvet caress of your voice. The sultry glaze to your eyes as you stared directly into the dark visor that covered his own.
“I don’t want you to remove it, just..just want to feel, but…but I understand if that’s a line you need to draw. I respect you, I respect your Creed. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you aren’t comfortable.”
His hands snapped up to grip yours tightly, bringing them up to the underside of his helmet, the seal deactivating as he moved a thumb to press something along the space beneath his chin. A hiss filled the air and your fingers twitched in his as he guided them to press against the skin just below the cool beskar. Your fingers reached toward his jaw, where the stubble of his facial hair was peeking out from underneath. It was rougher than the hair on his chest, similar to the coarse hair that was a dark shadow beneath the water. You settled over him fully just as your fingers splayed over his jaw, feeling both patches at the same time and letting out a low whine as the silken skin of his cock settled against your slippery folds.
You felt the groan that fell from him in your bones, so close to you, impossibly close.
“Dank ferrick, mesh’la.” Din growled as he slumped back into the wall of the tub, his hips bucking up suddenly. You had no fear of him breaching your comfortability, of crossing a line that had been talked over. You trusted him, you felt so safe with him. And it felt like nothing you’d ever known before, so enraptured by someone and comforted in their presence. It felt like the ocean inside you that had been choppy for as long as you could remember was beginning to settle.
Din’s hands were tight around your hips, helping you to move against him, guiding your motions as he thrusted up to slide against you. Your soft, slick folds nestled over the length of him, creating a channel of friction that was too much for the man. His breathing hitching as he chases his own high, another one flaring quickly in your middle to match him.
He didn’t last long, the drawn out groan of his peak rumbling through you, the modulator no longer hiding the deep baritone of his voice in a veil of mechanics, but unfiltered for only your ears to hear. He bucked up, body twitching as you felt him throb between your legs. The water turning murky from his spend around you both. As he canted his hips to keep you close, you felt the head of his cock nudge at your fluttering entrance and pleasure ripped through you. Keening, the waves crested in a delicious feeling that took over your body.
It was a few moments before you came back to yourself, body limp as you leaned all of your weight against the temptation of Din below you. Forehead nuzzled into his heaving chest. Letting your body move along with the way his own moved as he came down from his own pleasure. His arms were now wrapped around your back, holding you to him, his head knocked back against the tile lined around the tub.
All you could whimper was his name, a small sound more breath than voice.
“I’ve got you, mesh’la,” He spoke softly, voice back to that modulated mockery of what you knew his deep, velvety voice actually sounded like now. “Fuck, mesh’la, you did so good for me.”
“W-wanted to.” You placed a kiss to where you could feel how fast his heart was beating. A delirious giggle sprouting from deep within you.
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The room was soft, from the carpet plush at your feet to the bedding atop the large bed, to the blanket thrown over the back of the couch and the one in the crib that had been delivered to the room right before your arrival. It was quiet, the faint neon lights of the city blurred behind drawn curtains in the middle of the night.
Din was asleep beside you, safe inside the covers while you struggled to catch your breath as you had been jarred into consciousness from a bad dream. Silently, you slipped from the bed, leaving the warmth of him behind. Silent tears were cascading down your face, the fear and loss of the dream too much for you to handle and your mind had decided to pluck you from the pain of it just as the figure of your guardian had fallen in front of you once again.
Feeling raw and exposed, you slipped on your cloak that had been draped over the back of the couch in the living room. The door to the bedroom left cracked behind you as you walked over to the crib to find ad’ika staring up at you with big eyes. He quietly cooed as he reached out for you, his little claws gripping you tight as you lifted him up and cradled him close to your chest.
Settling into a corner of the couch, you dragged a blanket over both you and just sat there, not bothering to turn on a light lest it wake the resting man who was snoring slightly.  You hadn’t seen him so relaxed since meeting him, something about the comforts of the booked room easing his anxieties and paranoia of always having to look over his back, always be on alert. Even if the reason you insisted on getting the room was to throw off a tail. You wondered when the last time he slept so soundly had been, when the last time you had been before your mind decided to remind you of why it was such a rare occurrence.
A small hiccup sounded and you looked down to see ad’ika clutching to you tightly, his own little mind playing tricks on him and bringing up things from the past. You let him curl a claw around a few of your fingers and brought it up to place a gentle kiss atop it. Emotions and energy flowed between you both, flashes of harsh light and the echoes of blaster bolts and the hum of swinging lightsabers sounding in your mind. He had been just a child too, when it all happened. When the only life you both had known had been ripped out from underneath you.
You thought back to the way Akiz would hold you in a similar way, to help ease your mind when nightmares plagued you. And for all the bad that occurred in your life, for all the things you had to endure, you were glad to be here in this moment to mirror his behavior for the small being cradled close to your chest. His other claw was laid flat on your chest, over where your heart was hurting. Trying to calm your breathing, you tightened the crossing of your legs beneath you both and closed your eyes.
“It’s okay, ad’ika. I’ve got you, I swear it.” You whispered to him as you tried to concentrate, meditating second nature. After a few moments, he looked up at you, his own breathing had calmed to copy yours, feeling the deep inhales and exhales of your body he pressed up to. He seemed to work himself up again, thoughts plaguing him, pushing memories of his own into your mind that were coated in fear, hitching your breath as they hit you at full force. The faint images in your mind’s eye as he had experienced the very same thing you had, a new perspective to the traumatic occurrence. Little brow furrowed and deep wrinkles in the green skin there, you chuckled lightly as you tried to smooth them out. “We’re safe, we got out. We made it out, ad’ika.”
He cried out softly, tensing in your hold. Trying to gather yourself enough for him through the haze of emotions and memories he was flooding you with, you gently rocked him. Hushing him quietly to ease his worries. His breathing evened out from the fast staccato it had taken on and the clenching of his eyes relaxed as you focused on sharing the feeling of warm water, the soft noise of cresting waves, the feeling of gliding through water on a board that you had crafted with our own small hands so long ago. Good memories from your childhood, the things you missed from it that felt like another lifetime.
A coo pressed into your neck and then a small giggle as you shared with him a memory of feeling so completely free, swiftly moving through a tunneling wave. The colors of the water illuminated by a blinding sun dulled to emulate the lights that surrounded the ship during hyperspace travel. All soft blues, tinged greens, soft white.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” You whispered, trying to keep the calm murmuring low as he relaxed under your attention. You nuzzled your forehead against his smaller one, letting him feel the calming thoughts you were pushing through the connection, hoping it was doing more good than just blanketing the harsh reality of your lives. “Let’s breath and focus, okay? We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”
You didn’t hear the soft steps that moved across the plush carpet of the room or catch the glint of the dulled city lights reflected in the beskar that peeked through the opening of the door behind you.
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“Mesh’la, I’ve drawn a bath for you.” Din’s voice was low, baritone close to you and you startled from where you were still cuddled into the corner of the couch. Slumber dissipated like a leak from your mind as your thoughts got staticky with anxiety at being caught unaware as you sucked in a deep breath through your nose. Ad’ika was asleep in your arms, eyes cracking open at the sound of the armored man’s voice. He jostled with the force of your jumping nerves as you flew from the couch, skin alight with the instinct to push up and away until you realized that you weren’t in any actual danger.
“Kriff!” You settled the small form in your arms down on the couch, still wrapped up tight in his blanket.
Leaning down to do so, you could feel the pull of your back muscles for your choice in sleeping arrangements. Din has stepped back calmly, not showing the fast beating of his heart or the guilt he felt at scaring you. You dotted on ad’ika, making sure he was okay and not at all alarmed by the rather abrupt awakening you both just had. Din’s hands came to grip your own, his gloves gone.
“I’ve got him, you’ve been up with him all night. I set fresh caf and one of the books from your bag out for you.”
Moments later, you were submerged in a perfect imitation of the bath you had drawn the night before.
Thoughts swirling like the cream you had poured into the cup of caf resting on a board spanning over the tub, securely nestled around the lips of it. Taking a sip, you leaned back onto the waterproof cushion fastened to the end of the tub, back muscles relaxing as the liquid warmed you from the inside out while steam wafted up from the hot water surrounding you. True to his word, Din didn’t disturb you, giving you a moment to yourself.
Warm arousal sparking through you as your body recalled the sensations from the night before. The feel of his strong body pressed against yours. The way he had curled his arms around you, the way he had thrusted up against you, dragging his hard cock through your folds, head stroking that bundle of nerves, pulling a second release from your worked up body while he chased his own. Hands recalling the feel of his thick curls tight in your fingers as you pulled on them, the feel of his jaw underneath them, the softest brushing against his lips before he had softly asked you to stop.
Guilt flared up at the pushing of his boundaries, at the closeness you both shared between bare bodies, but the recollection of how soundly you had both slept right after, curled into each other far outweighed it and you found peace within yourself. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, it had been…it had been euphoric to feel so safe with him in that way.
You hummed into the ceramic of the mug, taking another delicious sip. Leaning forward you placed the drink back on the board and took the moment for what it was. An easy morning with the two beings who meant so much to you in the other room, setting up breakfast before the day started.
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The ship was silent as Din guided it through the space around the planet, preparing to jump into hyperspace. A relatively small planet he had picked out for the next stop, unsure of an overreaching plan but knowing that it was best to move. Especially now, having gained a tail in the marketplace. You had both spent a good amount of time going over the interior and exterior of the ship to ensure that no tracking beacons had been fastened to the aircraft. Even if the display on the man’s cuff hadn’t told him of the doors opening while away.
Just to be safe, to be cautious.
On alert and on guard for a majority of both your lives coalescing into an easy routine of ensuring complete safety when returning to where it was deemed home for the time being. Because that’s what the ship was to the man seated in front of you, his broad form filling out the pilot’s chair. And it was quickly developing into that for you as well, the bond between you both allowing for you to feel like you could share in his sentiments even more concretely.
The toggle he switched didn’t yield any change on the screen and you could hear the resounding sigh from the man but it didn’t sound as an alert for a message popped up. You prepared to leave the control room, knowing that some aspects of Din’s life were still unknown to you, not wanting to breach his privacy even if it was a simple message sent to his ship. But it was intended for him and him alone. It could be personal, it could be professional, but either way: you wanted to show respect for him in any way you could.
He must’ve clocked your movement, because his shoulders stilled from maneuvering his hands over the control panel and he turned in the chair to glance at you.
You offered him a tired smile, picking up the bundle that was a fast asleep ad’ika in some blankets in the third chair. The marketplace stop for supplies before returning to the ship had tired him out after his sporadic sleep the night before.
“Going to lay him down in my bed, let him sprawl out and he’ll wake to the lights.”
“Messages to me are messages to you. Unless they contain information on where the covert has relocated. But even then, I believe you’re entitled to that should you want to know. You have history and a connection with the Mandalorian culture and people.”
“But I am not Mandalorian myself, Din.” You reached out a hand to rest over the pauldron atop his shoulder. “It’s not a problem, I’ll leave you to it. Going to organize and see what supplies we have and make a list.”
You were about to cross the threshold when the voice of a man Din had last encountered back on Nevarro. The very one that had run him off world with the concentrated efforts of the entire Guild he had once been employed by. His helmet lifted slowly from where he was focused on the panel in front of him toward the hologram message as it displayed itself from another panel.
“My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive.”
Anger and frustration boiled in your stomach, filling you with negative and ill intentions as you turned on your heel in the threshold of the door. The figure of the man who had shot at you, who had wounded you, who had caused such a huge fight to erupt in the face of a personal vendetta he held against Din’s actions to save ad’ika formed to play the transmission. People had died, people had fled, the city had taken damage and destruction not only physically and so many individuals had been affected by the very man’s choice to move against Din in an orchestrated attack.
“You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we could call it even.”
You couldn’t help the snarl of your lips as you took in the smug way the man’s displayed form settled his hands over his hips, seemingly unnerved by the way he had fired at you. Nearly taken your life and gotten Din caught. Nearly caused all three of you to be taken captive.
“A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown. They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild.”
“He should’ve thought of that before he even let them set foot there.” You growled, voice low and threatening as you felt your emotions spike. Din’s visor turned to you fully, taking in the way the ends of your loose strands had begun to float, harnessed by the lack of control you were exhibiting in your worked up state. The visage you created, standing there in the semi-darkness of his control room with a bundled up child in your grip and a hard look decorating your features was formidable. Someone he would have to track and observe before moving against. Someone who would fight until they couldn’t anymore, until someone was dead and the conflict was no more. Your eyes flashed with the brightness of the transmission playing out, making him pause as he thought he caught something else in your eyes for the barest hint of a second. He turned back to view the transmission your eyes were glued on.
“We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out.”
“He’s going to ask for your help.” You strutted forward and pushed the pause button on the panel without asking. The displayed figure frozen in a stance with his arms crossed and a hard look about his own features. “He’s going to ask you to risk yourself after attacking you and causing the covert to lose members and relocate.”
“He can do whatever he wants. That doesn’t mean-“
“You’re going to help him, I know you. I know you feel at fault for what happened, feel the need to right the wrongs that have sprung up because of your decisions. You worked with him, with the Guild for years, you feel an obligation to help them. Especially if they ask for it.”
“You don’t think I should.”
“No.” That same glint shone in your eyes despite the transmission no longer playing and it made the man seated beside you pause. Your entire demeanor so unlike your normal one. He had seen you be harsh in fleeting instances, more in response to something he had harshly said or done when first meeting you, in the way you had interacted with Xi’an and Mayfeld. The way in which you had cut down that thug back of Sorgan, the scratches you had left on Callican’s neck. Hints of an attitude and allusions to violence you were capable of that he had yet to see fully unleashed. It didn’t worry him, nor make him afraid, but it did make him pause. Cara had been right when she had seen your weapon for the first time: you were strong. Capable of doing so much damage with a simple twitch of your wrist. The ability to harness such a power as the Force and wield a weapon that could cut through anything made you dangerous. Even if he knew you wouldn’t use it against him or ad’ika.
“I’ve lived my life hiding and running, because taking them on and truly eradicating the threat was too much of a challenge.”
All he could do was nod, letting you know that he heard you and would take your words into account before he allowed the rest of the transmission to play out.
“If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize. Both of their prizes.”
You roughly pushed the pause button again, heart thudding in your chest.
“Din…” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, only guessing at what the man on display was about to reveal. Something you weren’t ready for anyone to know, a part of your past you tried to forget and shove down to never be thought of again. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, feel the black visor trained on you so directly that it nearly branded your skin. “He has my file, he has the ability to find out anything and everything about me if he’s the leader of the Guild. He- he knows who I really am.”
“And who are you?” His voice didn’t hold any accusations of malice, it was even in tone, telling you he was willing to listen to what you had to say. That he wanted to hear what you were willing to share with him.
“Someone who had trained with their top forces in order to infiltrate their ranks and get intimate details of how they operated until they were found out.” You exhaled heavily, aware of how tightly you were holding onto the blankets that were swaddled around ad’ika’s form. Your fingers going numb with the force of your desperate attempt at keeping your mood from spiking anymore. “Someone who did it to save the only person who ever looked out for them.”
“Akiz.”
“He had been injured beyond general medical procedures at the time, but the Empire…they had the means and equipment that could save him. I was offered an ultimatum, and I took it. I did it for him, I turned to them for him, bid my time and learned everything I could while he recovered.”
“You said he died protecting you.” Not an argument but a statement, a recollection of what you had told him of your beloved guardian through teary eyes.
“He did.”
A moment passed with no response before Din pressed play on the control panel, giving you both a moment to grapple with the truths you just revealed.
“You are in possession of one of the most sought-after bounties they’ve commissioned for. And a person of their ranks who betrayed them and destroyed an entire fleet of ships in her attempts to flee found alongside it. I had no idea when I handed you that last puck, commissioned by her mother. The officials here found it and her name was given to me to say to you, the truth about her revealed to me to allow me to understand the severity of the issue here. Return to Nevarro. Bring the child and woman as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members as protection.”
You watched the stoic expression of the man as he delved out the information and his idea of a plan so plainly.
“Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child and the woman. I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism.”
A heavy silence followed the end of the transmission, Din’s visor trained on you holding the child tight in your grip. It followed you as you finally made an exit to lay ad’ika down in bed, roving over your back in a way that made you feel utterly and completely exposed.
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You were in the hammock that was strung up in the hold space, the remainder of the day spent traveling somewhere that Din had chosen to guide the ship towards. He had left you and ad’ika to your own devices, opting to stay secluded in the cockpit for the day. No doubt going over everything from the transmission and dissecting your admission. You hadn’t eaten but had made sure the small being in your care had been fed and washed before laying him down for the night.
Din would come down eventually and you didn’t want to impose yourself on him. You should’ve told him before, but he had assured you to take your time with sharing things about yourself. Understanding all too well that certain parts of both of your pasts were harder to share than some. Not borne from unwillingness but of shame and fear of how it would reflect the decisions each made once upon a time.
His steps were nearly silent, but you could hear the hush of his cape as he moved about. Your breath puffed out as you turned in the hammock, facing the wall and adjusted the blanket over you to cover you completely. A possible interaction lighting up your body with an anxious hum. He had been so quiet after your confession. You knew what the Empire did to his people, how they manipulated the very trajectory of his life. How, years later, they did the exact same thing again. Endless attacks on innocent people and powerful cultures alike in their path to controlling the galaxy how they saw fit. And to find out that you had served them? That had to have hurt him.
It had hurt you to admit it. To reveal that part about yourself that brought you nothing but shame and regret, even if it was done with good intentions to save the life of someone important to you. And they had lost their life in the end regardless. A mistake that would haunt you every time your emotions flared, and the pull of the Force took hold of you.
Din’s presence was close, having descended the ladder. You could feel the way he moved about the space busying himself with making a meal before bed. The domestic sounds lulling you into a half- conscious state.
A hand encompassed your own with a gentle tug, but you only mumbled out something incoherent.
“Mesh’la, let’s go to bed.”
“’M comfy.” Was your rather muffled reply as your face was pressed heavily into the pillow beneath you.
The silence allowed for you to slip deeper into your slumber, the figure of Din not disturbing you in the slightest. But he must’ve felt differently, his mind heavy as he tried to decide what to do, what would be the best course of action. His words were quiet, though his tone held an honest admission.
“I don’t fault you or judge you for the things you did. For the choices you made…I wanted to thank you for telling me.”
“Wanted to.” You mumbled back, brain moving slow.
A squeeze to your hand was the last touch of him before he retired to his quarters, letting you sleep where you lay.
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Sorgan was a beautiful sight once again as Din directed the ship toward the planet. Telling you of his plans to pick up Cara in hopes of her wanting to and being able to help with the ask from the transmission. It had been a long conversation in the early morning, you waking to the darkness of the hold and moving to the cot alongside the resting man. He had told you of his plan, of his worries about the task. But it was a mutual agreement to take it on.
He had assured you that you would remain unharmed and by his side. That he was doing it to ensure a safer future for you and ad’ika. You brought up the argument that this may not be the only surviving ranks that still operated, but that it was likely ad’ika’s life was known about only by those that sought after him. But it was the move to make, you had agreed with him on that. Promising him that you would make sure they were both safe, that they would be your top priority in the face of conflict.
You hadn’t gone into town with Din, opting to stay behind and stick close to the ship. A trek in the trees to help keep your head level and your emotions in check. Basking in the plush atmosphere and abundance of greenery that you loved so much, had always loved so much. Ever since your first time seeing such a landscape when you were younger and on the cusp of beginning your journey to who you were now.
The pull of your lips was a genuine one as you recalled the memory of a wider smile, a gloved hand holding yours and leading you off of a ship, murmured words of comfort from a man who you trusted with your life. One who trusted you enough to take back to his home planet and show you the ways of his people once yours had been threatened and attacked. It had been a difficult conversation for you, him telling you that it was dangerous to return to your own planet. Serenity flowed through your veins as you felt close to the man who had saved you in countless ways, even when you couldn’t save yourself.
The feeling and memories of him in the trees you brushed your hand out to feel the leaves against your palms. Comforted by the way they all felt the same even if they were scattered on different planets, a part of you that you sought after even after banished yourself to a desert planet as a punishment for the things you had done, the choices you had made.
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“Well, hey there, cyar’ika.” Cara’s voice greeted you as you left the protection of the trees and walked into the clearing where Din had landed the ship. She was beside Din, ad’ika choosing to move toward you while they both waited for the ramp to open and settle to board the ship. Her smile was dazzling as she took in the easy way you moved about, no longer worried about upsetting or triggering Din’s instincts to chase. No longer closed in on yourself and only a shadow of a person. You walked as his true equal now and it was a world of difference. “Don’t you look well rested.”
“Hello to you too,” You returned her greeting with a nod of your head and leaned down to scoop of adi’ka, his grabby hands too much of a cute display to ignore his silent request to be picked up. He must be tired from the walk, his legs so much smaller than Din’s, his gait less of a strut and more of a waddle. You nuzzled your nose against his tiny one in greeting. Aware of her eyes watching you, taking in the simple outfit of form fitting pants to the cape you wore over your shoulders, hair braided and pulled back out of your face as it looped behind your head and was pinned securely in place.
“Did burc’ya make you walk the whole way there and back?” You cooed, relishing in images he was pushing into your mind of his visit into town. Proud of him for picking up the skill you had been sharing with him, to make it easier to understand the things happening about him and for you to know what he was asking after less of a guessing game. You laughed as he pushed the feeling of excitement he had felt at watching Cara fight with another patron in what had to be a bet. “He’s a big ole meanie, isn’t he?”
“Don’t listen to whatever he’s telling you, he wanted to walk the whole way. Fussed when I tried to pick him up.” Din defended, though there was no harsh tinge to his words. If you could guess, you would say the man was smirking beneath his helmet, enjoying in the teasing banter.
“Is that right, wanted to show Cara here that you were big and strong, huh?”
You sidled up beside them both, following them up the ramp and into the ship.
Cara’s voice carried down from the control room to the hold, where you were tidying things up and ensuring that nothing was out of place to make the ship feel cramped with more than two average sized people aboard. You did leave out the current piece of chainmail you were working on though, not wanting to disrupt the pattern you had decided to try your hand at.
“He alright up there alone?” The woman asked as she followed Din as he made his way down the ladder, the cabinet that he stored his weapons in opening with the press of a button on his vambrace. His easy answer had you shaking your head, knowing he was about to eat his words. Ad’ika was anything if not mischievous, finding things to get into at a moment notice.
“Pick one.” Din instructed her, wanting the woman to be as prepared as you and him both for the upcoming conflict.
“Do you trust the contact?” She picked up and weighed the feel of a few pieces, her eyes finding your own at the table where you were working on hammering rings of metal together with concentration.
“Not particularly. He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business.”
“Not too fond of how he fired an actual bullet at me.” You muttered as you leaned in close to make sure the closures were secure before moving onto the next line of your work. The memories of that injury stirring in your body, phantom aches sprouting forth. It had been harsh, the recovery from such a wound, but if it hadn’t been for Din, you wouldn’t even have made it up from the floor of the ship. You felt the weight of Din’s visor on you and looked up to share a look with him. A silent confirmation that you were still okay with the decision to face the threat head on, with following his lead.
“So then why are we going?”
“I don’t have a choice.” You wanted to interject, but let the man speak plainly. Knowing why he was choosing to do what he thought was necessary. What was for the best, should it all play out according to plan. “You saw what happened on Sorgan. We had a tail on the last planet before we came to you. They’ll keep sending hunters. The kid will never be safe until the Imp is dead.”
“And you’re okay with bringing him back there?”
“Not really.” His voice lilted, his emotions obvious as he revealed how hesitant he was to take both you and ad’ika so close to danger, too close to those who were actively hunting after you. “That’s why I’m bringing you.”
Anymore of the conversation was cut short as the ship began to roughly jostle. Alarms sounding from the cockpit where they had left ad’ika alone. You easily looped the last ring on the row you had begun a few moments ago and set it in the crate designated for your work and tools. Clasping it shut from your seated position didn’t work as your hands couldn’t find a steady hold. Your hands scrabbled against it as the ship continued to warble in its course, no doubt the culprit of ad’ika messing with the steering.
“We need someone to help watch that thing.” Cara’s voice was stern, worry evident.
“San tries her best, but he is a handful. Especially if we’re going into enemy territory.”
“You got anyone you can trust?”
You were just entering the cock pit to let them know you were going to lay down for a moment, when you spied the coordinates Din was punching in.
“Arvala-7?” You turned from the control panel displaying the route of travel that Din had programmed into the system. There was a never-ending replacement of the plush, rich landscape that brought you so much comfort with that of harsh winds and gritty sand that spanned for miles and miles. So unforgiving in the way that the land simply was, no thought for nourishment or refuge to visitors. A far cry from where you felt you belonged but always found yourself returning to. A darkness shadowing over every beam of sunlight that you tried to bathe yourself in.
“Yes, but…”
“No.”
“You won’t have to disembark.”
“Burc’ya n-no, please don’t take me back there.”
“I’m not taking you back, I made sure that compound was destroyed. We’re just going to see if he’ll be willing to help.”
Ad’ika was whining, uncomfortable with the heightened emotions in the small room. He could pick them up from you and Din both, the confusion of Cara making the scene into something he didn’t like. 
“I don’t- what’s going on?” Cara seemed surprised to see you openly upset, still getting used to you speaking unprompted, of moving about as comfortably as you did about the ship. She had spied the room behind the cockpit, done up with a cot and a trunk for storage of personal possessions. Your bag set atop it along with a pile of neatly folded clothing. Though the bed was made and untouched save for a smaller blanket thrown over the top. Suspiciously the perfect size for ad’ika’s little form.
The touch of your presence was noticeable all over the ship, from the hammock in the corner of the hold, to two pillows atop the second cot nestled into a small space that was undoubtedly Din’s personal quarters, to the open crate of metal working tools and pieces of chain mail in variant states of completion. You had folded yourself into the space, his space, and the two of you seemed to be on equal terms compared to when she last interacted with you both.
It could be noted that you both didn’t stray too far from each other, you from either him or the small creature of the child. A soft-spoken name for one and a comfortable, easy-going rapport with the other.
“The person who helped me last with him is on the same planet I found San.” Din spared a glance over as Cara, not willing to take his eyes off of you completely, you were so tense he worried for the soreness that would follow if he could get you to relax.
“We need him, you know this. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“What’s a bunch of sand and red rock gonna do to you, cyar’ika? C’mon, you got me and Mando to watch out for you, no one is going to take you. I’m pretty sure the tin can over there would fire on someone if they so much as looked at you.”
“Would you want to go back to the place where you were drugged, tortured and taken advantage of? Used as a plaything for anyone and everyone?” You couldn’t help but snap, emotions jumbled and intertwined so tightly underneath your skin. Too overwhelming and difficult to separate in order to think properly. The mess of them prompting you to reveal in plain words what you normally would only allude to when asked. Din’s motions of going through the contents behind a panel below the controls halted, a crackling sounding from the modulator as your words settled in the air. Cara, similarly, dropped into your normal perch behind the pilot’s chair. At a loss for words, knowing whatever they chose to say would be the wrong thing.
You didn’t wait for their attempts at a response, instead crossing the small space and entered your quarters. Overly sensitive in the wake of memories of your past guardian found in the soothing embrace of the forest.
This was a bad idea, this was a monumentally bad idea. It didn’t matter how much faith and confidence you had in everyone’s abilities. Going back to the place that you had experienced such negative emotions was potentially triggering. You could already feel the pull of the Force when just seeing Greef Karga again, and that had only been a hologram transmission. Not even the real, physical form of the man who had shot you and nearly killed you for not reason other than simply being abord the Razor Crest.
Fear overriding everything else, self-preservation in the most selfish of ways rooted deep in your very being since you had last run from the very same people commanded you to be handed over now. You would apologize later, for your harsh words, but right now you needed to be alone. You needed to meditate and concentrate, push back the pull you felt so strongly inside of you.
Faint sounds of the pair of them could be heard as they moved about, Din rustling in the crate of errant machinery and parts he kept aboard the ship. You wondered what he was looking for, what he was doing but you felt too raw to face either of them. Their voices a soft murmur as you sit in the middle of the small space and try to focus on the push and pull of the Force all around you.
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“So…”
“Don’t start.” Was Din’s simple response, knowing he was about to get an earful from the smirking woman sat across from him at the makeshift table. He had a spare bin placed atop most of the surface, tools and other parts surrounding it while he worked on a making a crude impression of the pod that ad’ika had been found in. While he knew you had only been teasing, you had been right In your observation of the small child being tired from his trip into town to fetch Cara. He was too small to be without transportation aid and the protection it would allow him.
“She seems like a completely different person. It looks good on her.” Cara lifted the mug in her hands to take a sip of the steaming caf she had made. The set up looking extremely well kept and stocked, everything neatly labeled in clean script. She hadn’t been able to read any of the words, Mandalorian, but had known that Din wouldn’t choose to spend his time with such a small thing as organization. It had to have been you who took the time to do it. “You did the right thing, not finishing her job.”
“She’s an admirable travel companion.”
“Is that all she is?”
The armored man didn’t respond, knowing what the ship looked like, what is allowed for other people to read into. He had no shame about the nature of his relationship with you, but he wasn’t sure if you would take kindly to him speaking about it plainly with the woman across from him. While he was comfortable in her presence and they were more than acquaintances at this point, he had firsthand experience with seeing how you interacted with people who seemed to know more about you than you cared for them to. He wasn’t about to break your trust, just as he wished for you to not break his own with you.
“Now I know why that lovely widow wasn’t an option.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder to where the door to his quarters was open a crack, allowing her a view of the two pillows atop the cot only big enough for one person.
“Cara.”
“San is a gorgeous woman, Mando.” Din’t hands froze as he recalled the way your face bloomed when overwhelmed with pleasure. He shifted his hips, feigning reaching for a tool just out of his immediate grasp, adjusting himself as he felt a jolt of heat between his legs. “It looks like she’s really adjusted to life here on the ship. With you. Takes care of things.”
“She fights and does her far share of the hard labor, though she doesn’t know a kriffing thing about flying or anything beyond basic mechanics.”
“And you find that endearing, don’t you?”
“She has other skills.” He stated, a slight defensive. It was easy for people to take a glance at you and see only what you allowed them to, he had done so himself when first meeting you, taking you as a quarry all those weeks ago. But Cara had seen you fight, for a moment, surely she hadn’t forgotten that so easily. He did know why he felt the need to remind her that you were more. Perhaps it was a protective manner, to rekindle the knowledge that you were skilled, that you should be treated with respect, though he knew logically that the woman across from him did and you were both on good terms with each other.
“I’m sure she does, it takes a lot to survive on your own. Especially if she was on the run for as long as her puck had described. Her own trauma would’ve been enough to take a normal person down, but she’s strong. And the way she took down that raider? It was as easy and breathing for her, even in recovery. She makes armor too?” A hand reached out to inspect the contents of your haphazardly shut crate. A nearly finished piece of chainmail in the form of a shirt was folded over the lip of it and she carefully extracted it. An impressed hum fell from her lips as she took in the care and attention your gave to the piece, the rings closely knit and fastened tightly together. “Good quality armor.”
“Family business, it’s how she’s been helping to contribute. Sold a few pieces for a few thousand each.”
Cara let out a low whistle, eliciting a giggle from ad’ika as he swung in the hammock in the corner.
Placing the piece back into the crate, she spied the open notebook you used to scribble in. The pages were folded and bent, most likely as a result of it not being clasped and she could make out the drawing you had done of a masculine figure. Keeping quiet so as to not garner Din’s attention, she reached for it and took in the broad frame that took up the page entirely. Notes and measurements in a language that wasn’t Basic nor the Mandalorian she was beginning to recognize.
“Any idea what she’s written down here next to what is obviously a drawing of you?” She turned the notebook in her hands to face Din, the black of the visor whipping up as he realized what she held in her hands.
“Put that away, I don’t think she knows it’s out here.”
“I wonder how she knows what you look like underneath all that armor.” A knowing smirk lifted the corners of her lips as he turned the book back toward her. It wasn’t a graphic sketch, by any means. Din’s form clothed in light attire, though he was without his armor in it. Ruffling through the pages, she discovered it was more of a workbook than anything else. More notations and sketches for pieces you had worked on or wished to create. She closed the notebook with a snap, winding the string around it to secure it closed and placed it back into the crate. Contemplative in her silence.
“She’s worried about the Imps.”
“It’s not my information to share.”
“We’ve all had run ins with them, even after they were ‘defeated’,” She used air quotes around the word, knowing full well that there were pockets of them still operating as if nothing had changed. Case and point with what was happening on Nevarro. Such an expansive and all powerful crusade didn’t just fizzle out, too many factions and people of power who knew how to lay low and bide their time to show their hands. “But she seems…extra cautious.”
“You’ll have to talk with her.” Din continued to work on the project laid out before him.
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True to his word, Din hadn’t pushed you to disembark from the ship when they landed on the barren, desert planet. A simple announcement to let you know that they were going to close the ramp after themselves that you hadn’t responded to. They were gone for a long while, no doubt laying out the situation to Kuiil and allowing him time to ask questions and make his decision with as much information as they could provide to him.
When the ramp lowered, hours later, you emerged from your quarters. There was a lot of stuff set out at the bottom of the ramp, supplies and a very still Din. Cara was the first to begin moving items aboard and you looked around the general landscape that was visible to you before you moved to help her. A nod shared with Din was all you could manage, though you were sure it was obvious you had been crying.
“You’ve grown, flourished into something admirable.” Kuiil’s voice called to you as he fastened a harness around a few of the blurrgs he had corralled into a small pen. He looked over to the armored man, an unreadable expression that prompted you to follow his gaze. “You didn’t turn her in, you made space aboard your ship for her to live her life. As an equal.”
“I did.” Like it hadn’t been one of the most life changing things could provide for you. Heat bloomed in your chest as you slowly made your way down the ramp. A deep breath in and heavy exhale before your boot settled in the sand beyond the metal.
“Do you have experience with such creatures?”
“No. sir, but other herd species that have been domesticated in much the same way.” You reached out a hand for one of the blurrgs to inspect. The breath hot on the exposed skin of your fingers, the force of it ruffling the cape that covered your body.
“It took this one a few days to learn how to mount, do you know how to ride?” Kuiil nodded over toward Din, a soft smile adorning your lips as you tried to picture the easily annoyed man try to tame the creatures enough to allow him permission to mount. He must’ve been thrown off a few times, creatures like them picking up on emotions as easily as breathing.
“Yes.”
“We will be using them for travel, we should see if they are easier for you.”
“Do they have names?”
“They do not, but they are all very understanding in nature if you aren’t hiding from them.”
“Hmm, will be you a good girl and let me try?” You cooed at the creature, willing to try but not wanting to be thrown off in much the same fashion you were imagining they had done with Din. Carefully entering the pen, with the Ugnaught close on your heels, you approached the creature with steady hands.
It took a few moments of the creature backing away from you and then coming back before they allowed for you to grip a hand around their harness. Once you did, you pulled yourself up and planted your backside firmly in the seat atop their back. She quickly took off, racing around the pen with jumps and hops that you weren’t sure was an attempt to buck you off but to see how well you could handle riding.
Keeping your balance was easy, despite the creature’s efforts to truly test a new rider, your grip tight on the reigns in your hand. Focused on allowing your body to roll with their movements, cape billowing out with every move. After a good while, the creature deemed you okay and began to simple trot around the enclosure.
With a wide smile, you clicked your tongue and guided them back to the post where Kuiil fastened her back up. Your heart stuttered as you realized Din had leaned up against one of the posts with his arms crossed over his broad chest to watch, the glint of the setting suns playing off of his beautiful armor.
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Kuiil remained close by the creatures, offering them soft murmurs of comfort as the ship traveled. Surely, they hadn’t ever been aboard such a craft if their anxious rustling was any indication. But they were behaving for the most part, taking to it well with the help of their beloved handler.
Taking over the entire makeshift table, Din and Cara were interlocked in a game of arm wrestling, a cheeky comment from the former shock trooper resulting in the challenge. They were in a stalemate, small grunts of exertion puffing from both of them the longer they tried to overpower the other.
“I got you, Mando.”
“Care to double the bet?”
Suddenly, Cara was gasping, soft grunts waning out as she could no longer seem to take in a breath. Your head shot up, looking over to where ad’ika was secure in a newly constructed replacement for his pod. A small claw lifted up and his eyes clenched shut in concentration was all you needed to know as you quickly pushed up from your seat and moved toward him.
“Nayc, ad’ika! Nayc!”
He didn’t seem to hear you, as Cara let go of the hold she had on Din and her fingers scrambled at her throat. Din’s attention shifted from her, mind recalling the similar way that you had done something similar with Xi’an, to the child. He jumped up, closer to him than you were. He lifted him up from within his makeshift pod, words quick.
“No! No, no! Stop!” Concentration broken, the child gladly accepted Din’s hold and fastened his claws around the man’s arms. “We’re friends, we’re friends. Cara is my friend!”
“That is not okay!”
“I’m so sorry, cyar’ika! He must’ve been trying to imitate me, I didn’t know he was able to concentrate in order to do that!” You were crouched beside her, hands gently caressing her arms as she sucked in deep breaths and tried to fight off the dizziness that had taken over.
“Very curious.” The Ugnaught approached the child with a stoic face, taking in the events with reverence.
“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara shouted out, understandably upset and worked up.
“He doesn’t realize how strong he is, he’s still learning how to wield it.” You tried to placate her, knowing it wasn’t much.
“The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense. Though what it is, I don’t know. But what it does, what you both do. This…this I’ve heard rumors of.”
“What? When you worked for the Empire?” The accusation was harsh as it flew through the air.
“When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude.”
“Yet somehow you walk free.”
“Hey! We all need to calm down. Yes, he walks free and so do I. Working with the Empire doesn’t make us horrible people.” Items in the cabin began to float, the panels on the walls shaking with the emotions you were feeling, crates jostling in their secure holds against the walls. The agitation of immediate judgement from someone who had been wronged just as much as you had by the very people you had been forced to submit to. She had only been so lucky they didn’t have anything to hold over her and force her to turn to them. Loss was loss, but manipulation was easy for those who had obvious weaknesses to exploit. All of it cruel, no comparison worse than the other, only more heartbreaking.
Silence fell at your loud words; voice elevated to try and take control over the situation. Both Cara and Kuiil turned to you with shock playing across their features, your words revealing more about yourself than you cared to admit. But in order to corral the situation, you had decided to defend the Ugnaught by voicing your own similar experience. Letting him know that he wasn’t alone in the suffering he had endured.
Cara tore her arm out of your light hold, though you had stood up when she had in the heat of the moment. It stung, her rejection in wake of your words, but you understood and moved to give her some space.
“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes.” As he spoke, voice strict and leaving no room for argument, IG-!! Approached from where the droid had been standing guard by the creatures secured in the back of the space. “Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve.”
Breathe held, you worried for another round of accusations to fly, but Din took control of the situation, not wanting the conflict on his ship among people he recruited for a job that required working smoothly alongside each other.
“Tell you what. I could really use your craft work right now.” Din settled ad’ika back into his makeshift pod, admitting that he had thrown it together quickly, that it wasn’t the best work but what he could manage with what supplies and parts were available. The child cooed and gurgled, seemingly unaware of the tension he had caused with his protective move against Cara. “Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?”
“I shall fabricate a better one.” Kuiil turned to point an accusing finger toward a still seething Cara across the space. “Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”
The moment passed, tension easing a bit as the Ugnaught began to move about the space to collect things for a new pod. You opted to stay down in the hold with him and ad’ika, giving Cara some space after everything.
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“I didn’t know they had taken you prisoner.” Cara’s voice was soft, almost hesitant as she approached where you were seated at the makeshift table with one hand wrapped around a steaming mug, the other reaching into the new pod where the child gripped it tight with his tiny claw. “You only mentioned your mother holding you.”
“It’s not something I generally broadcast.”
“I didn’t mean to yell so loudly, it’s just that- that power really unnerves me.” She sighed as she settled into the same chair she had been in earlier, before everything had become complicated and personalities had clashed.
“It unnerves me too, the only surviving rumors and stories are all steeped in the shadow of the Empire. I know the truth of those powers, the origin stories and the people who used to wield them for the good of the galaxy. I’m one of the very few alive, even now after so long. But none of that matters when they’ve been wiped out and their stories erased in favor of those to instill fear. It doesn’t matter that the Empire has been eliminated down to sparse bases of operations and high ranks clinging to the echoes of power they once had themselves. They destroyed so much, they still do.  
I was given an ultimatum, much like Kuiil. And I don’t regret taking the easier road, even it if did land me in the midst of the very people who took everything from me before they fell.” You wiggled your hand from ad’ik’a, his grip loose in his sleeping state.
She whispered your name, unsure of what else to say in wake of such an admission.
“But it’s okay, because it got to me where I am now. Aboard this ship as a free woman. With this little guy to look after so the same things don’t befall him. With…with ner kar’ta.”
You both sat in a comfortable silence, the conflict of earlier not forgotten but mended over. Sharing stories of what had happened during your time apart over a simple meal. IG-11 helping you to prepare enough for everyone and ensuring you they would clean up afterwords while everyone indulged. She had offered to take Kuill a plate while you took one up to Din. Both of you reaching out to bring everyone back together in the effortless way that food was capable of.
Hours later, you retired for the night. The day having been a long one. Another of travel ahead. You had offered Cara your own quarters, should she wish for a bit of privacy to rest. She had taken up your offer with a smug look tossed over to Din as he made his way to his own, though she didn’t make a comment other than to thank you for your kindness.
“Thank you.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck, nose pressing into the warmth of his skin. He was fully dressed but he had removed the cowl about his neck to rest easier atop the bed. Hesitant to undress further with two other passengers aboard the ship, despite his trust in them. Similarly, you had stayed in your outfit, only removing your boots and gloves in order to lay down for the last bit of travel toward Nevarro. “I was…afraid earlier. There are some things that- trigger me in a way and I would rather not face those things if I can help it.”
“Triggering.” One of his arms rested over you, bringing you flush against him. The armor wasn’t the most comfortable to rest against, but the feeling of him breathing beneath it helped to ease your mind all the same.
“Din, my sabers, they’re white.” You whispered into the shared darkness.
“Mesh’la, I’m trying to follow you, but I don’t – I don’t know much about your culture whereas you know so much about mine.”
“I’ve only heard of one other person who carries white sabers.” You took a deep breath, your heart thudding as you tried to calm yourself. He needed to know, you needed to share with him something to help him understand what exactly was at stake with this conflict. “White sabers have been purified. It means that the person who wielded them went to great lengths to find balance within themselves.”
“Because they were not always so.”
“Exactly…”
He didn’t ask you what color they used to be.
And you didn’t tell him that they used to glow as red as the ones in your nightmares.
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Gearing up and getting the blurrgs ready for when the ship landed took a collected effort. Between you, Kuiil, Cara, and the IG unit, it was easier but still took some time. The four blurrgs aboard the ship were ready to stretch their legs, restless after having been cramped up for nearly three days of travel through hyperspace. You had calibrated your vambrace to connect with Kuiil’s handheld comm link. The pod he constructed for ad’ika complete and able to be controlled with either yours or Din’s cuffs.
The blurrgs steps clanged as the creatures made their way down the ramp, lining up in a loose formation in front of the man who had reached out to ask for aid.
Greef Karga was a tall man, his clothing neat and put together. Save for the damage done by Din’s blaster over the left breast of his leather coat. You held a hand to your lowest rib on the left side of your own body, feeling the phantom pain of a since healed injury at the man’s hand. There were three Guild members collected behind him, all sporting their own preparations.
“Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando. But things have gotten complicated since you were last here.”
“It appears that introductions are in order.” The man looked over the line the blurrgs created in front of them. Cara and Din flanking the closed and secured pod. Kuill beside the armored man and you on to the right of him. “It seems we’ve both provided a security detail.”
The man’s eyes roved over you all, taking in the way you were simply listening and letting him ramble on in his greeting.
“I recommend the shock trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas.”
“She’s coming with me.”
“But the town is now run by ex-Empire.” Karga made an imposing figure with his hands rested on his hips. “If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they’ll all get their hackles up.”
“She’s coming.” Din insisted simply.
“At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it.” He acquiesced. His attention turned to you, the gazes of those behind him following as well. “I see you’ve brought this lovely lady back here, you are looking wonderful in your healed state. That was a nasty business the last time we met, I can only offer my apologies for firing upon you.”
“Apologies not accepted.” You frowned, not liking how he was talking with such disregard for the seriousness of the situation. As if it was all some game or show he was fronting for, not truly concerned with. He balked at your dismissal, his own frown marring his features.
“Surely you must understand that I was merely doing my job as leader of the Guild, Mando here was running off with a quarry he had already handed over. Possibly two, because we both know he had no true intentions of handing you over either. You were simply in the vicinity of such a misguided act.”
“Surely you must understand that not everyone buys into your overly straightforward and charismatic act. It’s simply something that people have the right to be cautious of.” You head crooked to one side, words falling and hitting the man right in his chest. Your eyes locked with his. Behind him, the other bounty hunters reached for their weapons, hands hovering over them as they looked you over. Not outwardly threatening but your words hinting at more than a pretty face or simple quarry sought after by her mother. You had no doubts that Karga had either told them of your involvement with the Empire so they were to keep an eye on you or he hadn’t and kept it simple to avoid any complications with the plan.
“Ooh, Mando, I do like her. Not afraid to speak her mind now that she’s got you to protect her, huh?”
“I’d be more wary of what she’s capable of, I’ll shoot but she’ll make sure you aren’t breathing.” Din spoke up, wanting to hurry this along. But he knew the man standing before him, how he liked to draw things out. Read what he could from long interactions with people. Choosing to ignore the rather heated comments from you both, the man opened his arms in exasperation.
“Now, where is the little one?”
Everyone watched as Din controlled the pod to move out of the line, up toward Karga. As it opened, revealing ad’ika inside and wide awake, your hands twitched around the reigns in your grip just as Din moved a hand to hover over the blaster holstered to his thigh.
“So this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about.” You watched with untethered focus for any signs of discomfort or ill intent as Karga lifted ad’ika with gentle hands from within the pod. “What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn’t want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head.”
He gently placed the child back into the pod, but your grip remained tight on the reigns, tension taut in your body. You didn’t trust him, you didn’t trust the men behind him, you didn’t trust this entire situation. But it was Din’s call and you would follow his lead.  
“Well, I’m glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all.”
With the pod safely between Din and Cara once again, you exhaled a heavy breath.
“The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light.”
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