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penvisions · 5 months

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 12}

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

Summary: The job Din took to get credits takes a turn for the worse, the crew turning on him in a way that insights your direct involvement. It leads to a heavy conversation between the two of you.

Word Count: 11k (holy crap!)

Warnings: sexual content (!!), dry humping, talk of sexual intimacy, talk of previous sexual experiences, talk of sexual boundaries, description of male and female bodies, orgasm, sexual innuendos, sexual teasing, description of injuries (brief), canon typical violence, fighting, use of blades / knives, description of being stabbed / cut, description of being impaled (!!), tense situations, stalking, san fights(!), unsavory characters

A/N: took a few liberties with episode six, i hope y'all don't mind! a few things were changed in order to accommodate san's presence. i hope y'all like this once, a lot of stuff happens but that seems to be the way these are gonna go as we pick up plotlines from the series! there's a BIG scene that i hope people enjoy, lemme know what you think, pls? i'm so nervous to move the story along in this way but it felt like the right moment for these two

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You were quiet as you boarded the ship, thoughts buzzing into white noise that you couldn’t begin to decipher. This…this was a mess. This was far more complicated than a simple rescue of a man that had been taken by rivals. This was an elongated interaction with people from Din’s past and people who had no respect for him despite knowing nothing of him but stories from a time past.

Realistically, you knew it would be a different dynamic between you both with other people around, with going back to a routine of sorts for Din to collect credits and take jobs. Bound to be a harder living now, in the wake of his separation from the Guild. But the people he had sought out to work with? It was all too nerve-wracking, too risky. Ignoring the fact that one of his past involvements was a part of the crew assigned to the job, the issue that concerned you the most was that Mayfeld had once been Imperial.

He could’ve been one of the people sent after you, could’ve been one of the people informed of your survival, one of the people who could recognize you. And that, paired with the presence of the Child, was too risky for you. Tempting to pull Din aside as ask him to drop you both off somewhere to wait for him to complete this job. But even that could bring more attention to you, and you were frustrated to be in such a plight.

The sounds of Zero up in the control room filtered down into the hold and you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizzying thoughts that were taking over, consuming from the inside out. If the ship was a part of the job, there wouldn’t be any time to ask for alternative surroundings. You would have to deal with whatever was about to transpire head on, whether you were a part of the job directly or not. Your involvement was inevitable. The voices of the people you would have to endure for the next few rotations were a drone from just beyond the ramp.

The droid climbed down the ladder and walked past you without so much as a glance, but you could hear him speak as he descended the ramp toward the group gathered outside as they went over things.

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess.”

A few more moments passed before the group was entering the ship. As soon as you heard steps on the ramp, you quickly climbed the ladder and sealed yourself in your room. Standing before the crate Din had given you, you reached down to unclasp it and began to dig around. The rattling of your painkillers could be heard before your hands closed around the bottle.

“She’s not a part of the crew, she doesn’t need to know any details.” Xi’an’s trilling voice floated up from the hold and seeped through the open door that Din had just walked through.

“Bet she’d be a good lookout, sure put you in your place. Could be an asset if we get bogged down. Not too bad on the eyes either.” The countering voice of Mayfeld sounded before the door hushed shut, drowning out Xi’an’s heated next words. It allowed for their voices to become muffled and when you didn’t look up from where you kneeled in front of the crate a sigh fell from Din.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now, other than that this is a bad idea.”

“I didn’t know she was still a part of the crew.” You pulled the bottle from beneath the clothes it had been under, still not looking over toward his armored form close to the door.

“She’s not the problem, not the only one anyway.” You grumbled as you tried to get the cap off the bottle, but your hands were shaking. “He’s Imperial, do you have any idea the kind of danger that puts me in, that puts ad’ika in?”

“He’s some front line soldier, the chances of him knowing about-“

“It doesn’t matter!” You pushed up quickly, turning to face him, pills forgotten. “There’s still a chance!”

“Did you even think this through before you contacted Ran?”

“Of course I did.”

“D-“ You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check, trying not to say his name aloud should anyone overhear. Pinching the bridge of your nose to stem off the headache that was forming, you decided to be completely honest with him, to tell him that he was being reckless. “Mando, you didn’t. You have a child aboard the ship.”

“And I will protect him at any cost. Protect you at any cost.” He regarded you quietly, taking in the way you slammed the crate closed and began to pace back and forth in the small space. You were wound up, the clasps on the trunk tinkling as they vibrated, his eyes glancing at them and then toward your clenching hands. The energy flowing off of you was palpable and for a second, he was in awe of the natural way you manipulate it without even thinking. You had forgone hiding your powers in favor of giving Xi’an the same treatment she had treated you with, it had been rather telling of your emotions to push back against her so easily. “I didn’t know they’d need the ship.”

“I-I don’t like this. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I understand that you’re afraid-“

“Of course I’m afraid! My entire fucking life has been thrown off by the Empire and one of the people who served for them is aboard the ship!”

The errant items around the room were floating in the air with the energy from your emotions. You didn’t even notice you had been causing it until Din stepped closer to you and reached out for you. You glared at him and before you could say anything, he was gripping your face in his gloved hands and stooping in low to peer directly at you. The visor so close that you could see the reflection of your panicked eyes staring back at you. You looked so scared, face contorted in a concerning display.

“Please calm down, mesh’la.”

“You should’ve told me, before you contacted Ran.”

“I should’ve, I wasn’t- I didn’t think.”

“I know it’s not my place, but-“

“You deserve a say, you have a say. I will heed anything you have concerns about.”

“Where are we going?”

The pause he took told you enough about the matter. You weren’t going to like it; with the way he was hesitant to inform you was all the answer you needed. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, gloves brushing the braid your hair was up in and pinned around the back of your head.

“A New Republic prison transport ship.”

“They have you breaking into a prison ship to free an inmate? Okay, that’s- Okay…do you want me to stay on the Crest or do you want me-“

“I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to do it. It’s up to you, mesh’la.” You guided his hands from around your body, gripping them tight with your own. With a questioning glint in your eye, you removed his gloves and tucked them into his utility belt. His hands rose to cup your face once again, eyelashes fluttering at the bare feel of them. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in a soothing motion.

“I would feel better being with you, I don’t trust them. And that’s not to say I don’t have faith in you, but…”

“I understand, I have faith in you too. I would like it if you were aboard the ship with ad’ika, but it won’t be taking off unless you and I are both back on board.”

“I…will stay, but you contact me the second anything goes awry. Promise me, please?”

“I swear to you.” He watched as you brought his hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of his knuckles. The modulator in his helmet crackled, the sound bringing a smile to your face as it revealed something about him. That he liked your touch on him, the affection you were giving him.

The visor stayed focused on you, but you were sure his eyes were traveling back and forth between your lips on his skin and shine of your eyes as they glinted with a promise.

Metal doors slamming open had you following right on Din’s feet, down the ladder and into the hold.

Burg was standing in front of the cabinet where Din kept most of his weaponry and supplies. It was right outside of his quarters, and your eyes trained on the control pad for it, checking that the lock was still engaged.

It had been an brief conversation that ad’ika would be kept away from the people aboard the ship. A worry about Xi’an and her knives along with concern about him getting overwhelmed and exposing his own powers. You could hold your own, should they decide to try and test you. Though the idling fear of them talking about the exchange between you and Xi’an was a low thrumming in the back of your mind.

With a press to his vambrace, the cabinet swiftly closed before the Devaronian could get his hands on anything. Mayfeld and Xi’an both looked over from where they were seated around the makeshift table as you stepped off the last rung of the ladder and stood beside the imposing figure of Din.

Burg huffed, a frustrated sound coming from low in his chest. He turned around to stand over Din, trying to intimidate him once again. As his hand flew out to mess with the controls closest to him, the one leading to the closed off quarters, you and Din both stepped forward, you move in front of the door, behind the tall man. At the contact of Din restraining Burg from moving any further, Mayfeld decided to jump in with repeated utterances of ‘hey and okay’.

“I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” As he spoke, Din sidled around Burg, urging him away from the door. You stood your ground as Din stood beside you once again. “So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian and his little shadow.” Burg rumbled as he stared you both down, unwavering in his direct contact.

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy.” Mayfeld leaned back a little, raising his arms out. “So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

You bristled internally at the hurled comment, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as you felt energy wash over you. The ill-mannered attitude and crack of a ‘joke’ sitting like lead in your stomach and heart. Too many of Din’s kind were gone, mostly wiped out. Those that prevailed, did so with such a vibrance for their way of life and continuation of religion and culture. While you may not be Mandalorian yourself, you had been rescued and cared for one in your darkest hour and for years after. Endless respect and admiration for your guardian and Din beside you stirring the need to protect.

You were about to take a step forward when you felt Din brush his hand against one of your own. Xi’an took notice of the small movement event as she laughed along with the guys and continued to balance the point of a knife on her outstretched hand. A hard tint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an.” Mayfeld rolled his head to look over at her across the makeshift table they were both seated at. Clear, now, of your metal working tools and the armor you had been working on before anyone had boarded. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” She turned her focus back onto the blade, ignoring the way you were standing guard over the doors still, how close you were to the armored man in question.

“I did what I had to.”

“Oh, but you liked it.” She spun the knife around to grip the handle, pointing a finger toward him from across the space, her voice hinting at something more. With a telling smile that allowed a glimpse of her sharp canines, her eyes flitted from his visor to you behind him and back. “See, I know who you really are.”

Her words were for you, though her eyes never left his figure. Taunting,

“He never takes off the helmet?”

“This is the way.” She mocked in a low timbre, bringing a closed fist to the front of her chest.

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfeld pinned him with a look, something behind his eyes you weren’t too fond of. “Maybe he’s a Gungan.”

“You ever seen his face?”

Xi’an gasped, the sound drawn out and breathy as she caressed one of her lekku with a gentle hand.

“A lady never tells.”

She had to be lying, he wouldn’t have removed it for her. He wouldn’t remove it for anything, it was his sworn Creed. And yet, doubt painted your thoughts in a dark swath. Jealousy lit up ugly inside of you, making you question the tentative stepping stones you’ve already waded on. Made you feel inadequate in the face of seeking him out in such a way. Though he had done nothing to prompt the feelings himself, it was all based on her and her reactions. The intimidation you felt from her garnering negative emotions in the wake of rediscovering yourself and your own notions of things taken from your life and tainted in the worst way.

“What about you, surely you’ve been privy to it?” Mayfeld’s eyes found your own, a smirk pulling at his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him, not willing to play into his teasing with so much as a shake of your head. It was none of his business, none of anyone’s business but Din’s. The lack of respect they had for his way of life, his religion, his Creed was sickening. Their collected ignorance a telling sign that they didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly serve them. Then the insinuation of intimacy and the breaching of personal boundaries had your shoulders knotting tight, fingers tapping against your thigh.

“Aw, c’mon, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. She trusts you, for whatever reason, what’d you have to do to gain that?”

“Do not incite her, in any matter.” The modulator crackled with the force of his words, as if they were being spoken in that dark voice through clenched teeth. You let him take the figurative step of telling them to control themselves, having worked with at least one member of their little quartet before. He knew better than you, what type of people Ran employed and kept in his company.

“You gotta show us something. Come on. Just lift the helmet up.”

Burg loomed closer, form so large in the space of the hold.

“C’mon, let us all see your eyes.”

At a small nod from Mayfeld, Burg reached out a hand with a confidence.

Din immediately slammed a hand over his wrist and pulled him forward, using the loss of the man’s momentum to shove him away. You stepped back, trying to stay out of the way. Burg quickly gathered his bearings and lunged, only to be kicked back into the small alcove beside the quarters. Trying to catch himself from falling on his back, Burg’s hands shot out and gripped the wall, fingers dragging over the controls for the door. They flew open behind you to reveal ad’ika standing atop the cot, face contorted and nervous.

He looked from you to Din, sounds falling from him that made no sense. Reaching out mentally, you tried to sooth him, to let him know everything was okay.

But everyone’s attention was on him, and it made him freeze in his spot.

“What is that?” Mayfeld wondered, unbridled excitement coloring his tone as he stood from his seat and began to move closer. You moved to block his view into the quarters, blocking ad’ika from the lingering stares as you felt panic wave off of his small form. One of his small hands reached out for you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Din didn’t move as Mayfeld walked past him, Xi’an rising from her seat behind him and following.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld approached, peering over your shoulder with an intensity that unnerved you.

“What a minute, did you two make that?” He turned to Xi’an, close on his heels. Her curiosity getting the better of her in the moment.

“Don’t.” You said, reaching out a hand to keep him a few paces away.

“What is it? Like a pet or something?” He pestered, waving his hand up and around, watching the way large eyes followed the movement over your shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that.” Din finally spoke, though it wasn’t what you expected. He was trying to play this off, like it wasn’t a secret that had been unearthed. Hoping that the initial reaction would wane into one of indifference.

“No? Okay, what about you, is that thing yours?” Mayfeld’s eyes roved up and down your body, lingering in places they shouldn’t. “Bet it was a hell of a good time, making something like that. I wouldn’t mind a partner as submissive as you seem to be for him.”

“Watch it.” You growled, words forcing their way through clenched teeth. You could hear the crinkling of leather as Din did his best to keep his hands to himself, willing you to deal with the unsavory attention lest the entire job blow up. You closed your hand, feeling the energy around you and manipulating it, Mayfeld gasped as the air in his lungs was suddenly gone. He stopped trying to get ad’ikas attention and clawed at his throat. His face reddened as he struggled to breath but at a nod from Din you ceased the action.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” Xi’an moved into his personal space, face only a few inches from the front of his helmet. As if she wanted to touch him, her hands twitched at her sides. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

Quickly gathering breath back into his lungs, Mayfeld didn’t drop the teasing, though it was less direct.

“Me, I wasn’t ever really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament. But I’m thinking, maybe, I’ll try again with this little fella. Take him off your hands and babysit.” He tried to get around you, but you flung him back, his feet sliding across the durasteel flooring.

“Do not touch him,” Your entire body was alight with the instincts to protect, to hurt those invading personal space and boundaries time and time again in such a short window.

Zero’s voice broke the tension with the announcement of dropping out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched, jostling everyone with how rough it was.

The ship careened, gravity shifting from underneath you. Your stomach was in your throat, and you were reaching for the small being tossed from the cot. Your fingers just grazed the edges of his tunic as he flew past you. Your back knocked into the door frame, but you kept as quiet as you could, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. The Child cried as he landed harshly on the floor, right where Din had been thrown to his knees, barely able to catch himself from flattening completely.

As the ship landed and docked onto the top of the transport ship, stable for the time being, Din carefully cradled ad’ika in his arms and pressed him into your own. You curled your arms around him, sitting atop the cot and murmured soft words to him as he clung to you.

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown.” Xi’an hissed as she straightened up herself, having been tossed over the makeshift table and across the hold.

“Alright, Mando, we’ve got a job to do.”

He stepped away from you, his visor lingering on you before he turned to face the watching group. As he did so, he pressed something along his vambrace, controlling the bottom panel of the ship and it opened up to reveal an entrance aboard the ship below. He connected a device to the seal of the entrance, the small screen blinking red in rapid succession. You watched as everyone exchanged looks, communicating something you weren’t privy to as they collected around him and peered down.

As soon as the device displayed a green screen, the entrance unlocked and opened with a hiss.

Disengaging the device, Din gathered up the cable and stepped aside.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asked, looking around at the faces trained on him.

“Always you.” Burg announced, as if leading the job wasn’t something Mayfeld was quite used to. Didn’t know that it was his responsibility to lead in ways other than with his words. He lowered himself to the ground and took a cautionary glance into the space below. Deeming it clear, he braced his arms along something and dipped out of sight. Xi’an and Burg followed after him.

Din’s figure paused as he stood around the entrance, looking over to you for a moment. You were already watching him. You stood, closing the distance, adi’ka held close to your chest. Leaning up, you pressed your forehead to the front of the helmet in what was quickly becoming your greeting and farewell with the man.

“Keep in contact,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to overhear you despite them no longer being in the same space. He nodded once, before he jumped and disappeared through the opening.

Beeping sounded from your vambrace, alerting you of an incoming call. You quickly pressed the button to allow the audio transmission to filter through. You had been trying to distract yourself by working on the chainmail, something repetitive enough to keep your mind occupied while you waited for Din’s return or a communication from him.

“Sarad, I’m locked in a cell. They’re coming back to the ship.” A heavy sigh separated his announcement from the orders he gave next. “Take out the droid and put the ship on manual lockdown, make the settings ask for either your chain code or mine to operate. We have fifteen minutes until the Republic Army descends.”

You left all of your supplies and materials out in the open on the table and quickly checked on adi’ka, making sure he was secure in Din’s small room. You handed him a snack, hoping he would sleep with a full stomach and through whatever was about to transpire. Making your way up to the cockpit, you could hear Zero talking to the others.

“You have a potential problem. He has escaped.” Zero was announcing over the comm line as you silently entered the control room. You raised your saber in your hand, blade not yet engaged. You brought it down swiftly, bringing it to life and beheading the droid in a smooth motion. His voice box tittered and the entirety of his body sparked before he fell to the floor of the room.

You set the ship according to Din’s instructions and jumped down through the open space in the hold before you could catch your breath.

The lights were flickering, power being shut off and you could hear corridor walls slamming shut. The lights kicked back on, bathing the entire ship in eerie red hues. Closing your eyes, you focused on the situation at hand, centering your self before you began to move about the foreign ship.

As soon as you found an access point, you connected your vambrace to the source. You searched the stored files for a layout of the ship and downloaded the display. Holding it up, you began to run down the hallways, leading you toward where you could feel the presence of Din.

You comm sparked to life as soon as you rounded a corner.

“Xi’an is two turns away from you, mesh’la.”

“Copy that.”

You stayed one hallway behind her, keeping tabs on her and the path she was winding around the ship. A silent stalker she had yet to sense was just around the corner. You could only hope she would lead you toward Din, the hallways closed off every so often, creating a labyrinth. As she moved about, more would hiss shut behind or in front of her, as if guiding her toward her assailant in an unnerving way.

She suddenly stopped, turning and throwing three knives down the hallway you were just hovering on the edge of. Looking at the map displayed from your vambrace, you turned and decided to get ahead of her and take her down. Just as you heard her steps approaching your position, she whirled around and began flinging knives out. Din was an intimidating figure on the other end of the hall, she was trapped between the two of you. She tried to stave you both off, but it was clear she was better at throwing than direct defense.

Metal clanged as knives bounced off of Din’s armor, but one landed into the unprotected part of his shoulder, and he stumbled back. She advanced quickly, and they found themselves in a stalemate, his own knife held under her chin and one of hers at his inner thigh. She caught sight of you in the corner of her eye and with a smirk she plunged it deep into his leg. He shouted out in pain, leg weakening as blood discolored his trousers. She pushed off of him and charged at you, but you engaged your saber and rushed toward her.

She flung two knives at you, but you easily cut them in half and they fell to the floor.

“You think you’re so much better than me?” She snarled as she managed to swipe the back of your hand, saber slicing into her shoulder. She jumped back, trying to get some distance but you advanced, blade humming ominously. She hollered loudly, glancing away for the barest second back at where Din was kneeling on the ground and trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. “That he’s going to stay with you but he’s going to run, he’s going to run from you just like he did with me.”

“You’re nothing!” You didn’t bother rising to her taunts as you swopped the glowing blade low, jolting her back to avoid her ankles getting singed. But you had grazed her, the leather of her boots singed with a line that was smoldering. While her focus was down, she braced herself and her knees bent.

“You kriffing bitch!”

“Shut. Up.” You punctuated your words with swiped of the glowing blade to cut her belt from her. You kicked it away, standing unnervingly close to her and peering over at her with a glare. The pulsing energy from the saber lighting up your eyes to show her that you were so far beyond reasoning with. She lunged at your legs with a screech, but you flicked out a hand and she flew back a few yards.

She struggled but once her balance was her own, she was back up on her feet and jolted forward. The blade hummed as you moved against her, the singing of her shoulder pulling a guttural noise from deep in her chest and she ducked before crashing her body into your legs, causing you both to tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The handle of your weapon flying out of your hand and clattering into the wall. The blade disengaged, but not before it cut a swipe into the metal.

Your back hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of your lungs and you gasped. Vision blurring but you reached out and gripped the back of the headwear she wore. Jerking her back, you flipped to pin her face down. She groaned out, body sore from the rough motion. Her breath catching in her throat when you realized you had made good on your threat, back on the space station. One of her knives was gripped tight in your hand, held beneath her chin, blade chilling her skin where it pressed.

She used the hand that wasn’t pinned underneath her body to dig her fingers into the cut at your thigh, pulling a strangled grunt. You leaned back on your heels, trying to move far enough back that her hand fell away from you, bloodied and dripping. You panted as she twisted underneath you and shoved at your shoulders. Just as your back hit the ground a second time and she hovered over you, her legs pinning you down harshly. Crying out at the sting of a blade embedded in your shoulder. She forced it with both of her hands, digging it impossibly deep into the muscle.

You heard Din call out, could see him try to close the space between your two scrambling forms and his own.

Your other hand shot out, reaching out and the saber handle zoomed across the floor toward you. Past Din who was splashed red with dark blood.

Xi’an screeched at you as she tried to get a hold on your hair to slam your head into the ground.

But the second it was in your grip, you engaged it.

Everything fell silent save for the humming of it.

Errant blood escaping from the puncture bubbled and fizzled, rank smelling steam bursting into the air between you both. Her body fell limp above you, her middle catching on the hilt of the blade and she hung only slightly above you, unconscious. Shoving her from you and powering the weapon down, you scrambled up to your feet. You looked over her toward Din, seeing him holding a wide hand hard against his leg.

“Is she…?”

“No, I didn’t hit any major organs. She’ll need medical attention soon though, to avoid going comatose.”

“You need medical attention too, that’s a lot of blood.” You looked up from the splatter of it on the floor, up the expanse of his leg where it stained his trousers, to the dark visor of the helmet. Ripping the bottom of his cape off, you fastened it into a tourniquet around his thigh. He grunted as you tightened the knot around his muscle, wanting to ensure he didn’t bleed out.

He told you of his plan to leave them here, lock them in an empty cell to be found by those coming to the ships call for aid in the face of danger. To be caught and held responsible for their crimes.

“Qin” Din’s voice boomed across the hallway, the suddenness of him speaking since falling silent while set to the task of gathering the others into the very cell they had locked him inside. He motioned for you to stay back as he rounded a corner, his ripped cape swirling behind him as he calmly approached the man whose rescue this was all about.

“You killed the others.”

“They got what they deserved.”

The sound of an upset snarl was followed by the clicking of two blasters being drawn. Your heart stuttered, but you knew that Din had the situation under control.

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make sure you get it, and more.” An argument of the most logical approach, knowing that he was overpowered and at a disadvantage. “Come on, Mando. Be reasonable.”

The clunk of a blaster being tossed to the floor calmed you a bit, your nerves loosening as you realized this was going to go easier than expected. Seems like the man knew all too well the capabilities Din possessed, perhaps someone else he had worked with in the past and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Reading the room and how upset he must be with how things turned out, with how quickly they had fallen into chaos.

“You were hired to do a job, right? So do it. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?”

Unnerving laughter filled the air, making the hair on the back of your neck rise up.

But Din remained silent, unwavering, intimidating in his lack of engagement. You had experienced it firsthand, and it was easy to give into the stoic figure he made in his armor, the black stare of the visor as his helmet trained your every move.

“Board.” Was all he said, a hand signaling you to fall into step behind him.

“You’ve got yourself a little shadow, now that’s something new.” The twi’lek commented before he began to climb the ladder up into the Crest.

“Don’t engage with her, she took down Xi’an and she won’t hesitate to do the same with you.” An impressed sound hummed from him as he settled at the makeshift table. Eyes moving about the space to take in the environment, sus out any hidden threats or people lingering from the crew that had been assembled to come to his rescue. As comfortable as he could manage, he ignored Din’s warning and spoke directly to you the second the man was out of earshot, having moved up into the cockpit to get the ship in motion.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing with a big bad man like Mando?” He smirked at you, eyes roving over your figure in a way that made your skin crawl.

At your silence and scrutinizing gaze, he looked you over. From the ripped fabric of your trousers to the braid of your hair, over the entire length of your body. You didn’t show the discomfort at his roaming eyes, simply taking it in stride. Knowing that if he were to try anything, you wouldn’t be reprimanded for retaliation.

“You know, I never expected Mando to be so free with his space. My sister tried for years to get him to let her stay aboard this hunk of junk he calls a ship. Always met on his terms, never giving anything more than he was willing to, even if she pushed.”

“But you, you’re different. I can sense it. I see things he has no relation to scattered around the ship. Your mark on his space, it means a great deal whether you realize it or not. But he’s a selfish man, and he’ll make that known to you sooner or later.”

You didn’t engage, only spared a glance over at him when you readied yourself a serving of the tea given to you by the clinic. The painkillers they provided you with had been doing a good job of staving off the cramping in your middle, but nausea and a gnawing feeling in your stomach prevailed.

You turned to face him, stilling as you took in the defeated air about him. He had his freedom, he had his life back after having been caught, but he didn’t look happy. He lacked something that didn’t light his eyes through all the way, and you felt bad for him. He may not be the best person, but you could see that something was missing and he felt the space whatever it was left in its wake. He was watching you, his eyes trained on the way you picked him apart at the very seams. Calculating how he displays himself versus the things you see in him that he does not.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety at your scrutiny given voice.

“I’m selfish too.” You said before ascending the ladder and leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

“You keep that little shadow of yours close, no tellin’ the attention she’s garnered from being at your side.” Ran chimed after Din, aiming the thinly veiled threat at the man’s back. Turning to face down the ramp, hand hovering over the panel that controlled it, Din took notice of how the man was gazing up toward the windows of the control room. A glint to them that unsettled him, like you were something to own and control, to be used to get back at him.

He was silent as he boarded the ship once again, guiding it into flight immediately. Ships beamed in from hyperspace around you, focus on the space station none the wiser behind the Crest.

“Hey, I have a question.” You announced, securely seated behind the man as he directed the ship into hyperspace. The controls beeping and toggles switching underneath Din’s hands as he controlled the ship and set a course. He made a low hum, to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for your next words.

“What do you want me to call you around other people?”

“Mando is fine.”

“That makes me uncomfortable. It’s informal, it’s on the cusp of an insult, to associate you only with what you’re known as. You’re much more than that.”

“I don’t see it that way, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it that way.” He was quiet for a beat, chair turning back around as you walked up beside him. Emotions flitted across your face and you frowned when he turned back toward the control panel. You watched as he punched in coordinates from within his mind, a system of planets further out from the mid rim popping up on the screen. His fingers hovered as he slowly panned across the options displayed in front of him, thoughtful. “What did you call Akiz?”

“Cabur, kebiin, nuhunla jag.” You reached for his shoulder, palm going over the pauldron in a caressing motion. Thoughts and memories pulling you back into the past.

Protector, blue, funny man.

“And what did he call you?”

“Kih goran. Mir’sheb. Ner kar’ta.”

Little blacksmith. Smartass. My heart.

“I’ll respond to whatever you choose to call me, mesh’la.”

“Why…um, why…do you call me that?”

“Because you are.”

His visor turned to you, and you felt a pull toward him but took a step back instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty in his voice, the sincerity with which he shared his reasoning with you.

“O-oh, okay.” You could feel heat rising up the column of your neck, surely visible to the man seated in front of you. A way for him to know that his words had an effect on you.

“She was a youthful indiscretion.” He broached the silence of you tending to the cuts he sustained. The one on his thigh had been quickly tied off but now needed proper attention. He had removed the armor fastened about his legs while he waited for you to change and return to the hold. His boots were inside his quarters, not wanting them to get jostled about in the open space of the hold. He wasn’t sure where ad’ika had gone to, but nothing was clanging nor was he making noises like he needed something. He may have followed you up to your room, curious as to what you stored in there along with the pull of your larger cot with softer blankets.

“I believe…that she was once something you wanted so you sought it out.” Your attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit Din typically kept inside the weapons locker. It was laid out on the floor beside you, some wrappings already torn into and pressed to your own injuries.

“But, seeing how she is and everything insinuated, it was all fast and rough and passionate. And whether the attraction deteriorated over time and taken over by disdain, there was feeling there.”

He was quiet as he watched the way you carefully wiped the wound free of blood splatter that had stained the skin. Gentle fingers applying bacta cream to the wound, trying not to irritate it, before wrapping gauze around the diameter of his thigh. Cutting off the roll and knotting the end of it to keep it secure but not too uncomfortable or damaging, your hands stilled on him.

“There was, it was fleeting. More about the…familiarity we had with each other than anything beyond general attraction.”

“But you sought her out, time and time again.”

“Only while working with the group, the second I left, I ceased it all.”

“But it was, wasn’t it? Rough and about power, to see who could overpower the other and take pride in the ability to bring each other down in such a way.” That was what had bothered you so much about seeing them interact with each other. The way she tried to overpower him, the way that he let her attempt to with no reaction. Knowing that if he were to show a reaction, even small as one could be, it would be like giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded in getting under his skin.

“That…was a big part of it, yes.” He admitted, after a few bated breaths.

“I may never be able to give that to you, that type of dynamic.” You admitted softly, feeling self-conscious for the umpteenth time since first stepping aboard that lone space station. Din’s past lying in wait to take you both off guard in the most unexpected of ways.

“I’m not asking that of you.”

“But you liked it, obviously. It was intense enough for her to linger on the interactions, to feel cheated by your disappearance.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the route of the conversation. Trying to hold your emotions in check, your own inner turmoil at the subject matter in order to show him and yourself that it was normal to talk about these things, to discuss these things with those you wanted to be with.

“San, please look at me.”

“Din, you-I may not ever be able to be that willing, to give over control completely.”

“I’m not asking to take control; I’m not asking anything of you. It’s- that’s not what I’m-I’ve changed. This, what we’re doing- It’s all on your terms, your comfortability, your willingness. Whatever you want to give me will be enough, even if it’s nothing at all.”

“You-you would really be okay if I were to not want to explore that with you?”

“Y-yes, mesh’la, of course.” He stuttered as you stood up from where you were kneeling by his feet, where you had lowered yourself to tend to his injuries. Not breaking your focus from the helmet tilted down at you, something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. His visor was trained on you as you stepped into the space between his thighs, hands resting atop his shoulders, fingers spreading along the cowl that covered his neck. Words seemed to flee him as he could only sit there and feel you untangle the fabric from around his body, folding it carefully and setting it on the makeshift table off to the side.

You paused, bottom lip between teeth as you thought something over. You felt like you were out of your element, unprepared for the yearning and heat that had suddenly taken over. Filling the space between every nerve and nestling right behind your ribs with a weight you were sure you couldn’t shake even if the desire to do so crossed your mind. Looking over at him, right into the dark line of his visor, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“But what if I wanted to?”

The weight of your words hung in the silence between your bodies.

“Th-then we would go at your pace, as I said before.”

His hands remained balled at his sides as you began to unclasp the securing mechanism on his cuirass. As soon as the first one was undone, one of his reached up to hold the panel of armor in place. Your hands focused on removing the back panel he wore when the second clasp over his opposing shoulder was loosened. With a soft reverence, you set the panel down atop his cowl, to avoid it potentially scratching on the material of the crate. Hands trailing over the one he held to his chest, you took the weight of the cuirass from him and stacked it atop the other.

Before he could lower his hands back to his sides, you loosened elastic bands that held the armor plates over his forearms. Slipping them over his hands, and then removing his gloves with the same focused attention. You fiddled with his hands for a second, tangling your fingers with his own, the contact sparking heat as you recalled how efficient he had been fighting with Xi’an, with stalking and intimidating Mayfeld, the tense conversation with Qin. The hands so softly brushing against your own were capable of so much, of such strong and powerful things. And yet, they yielded so easily to your own, he allowed you to touch him, to disrobe him, to see him. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

The padding he wore underneath was warm from the heat of his body, the velcro snicking loudly in the quiet of the hold. The sound sparking warmth low in your middle, the fact that he was letting you disrobe him of his armor, an intimate thing for someone of his beliefs, was not lost on you. You guided his hands to your body, resting them on the flare of your hips. His hands curled around them, holding to where you let him touch. Fingers digging into the material of your trousers and the belt loops around your waist.

The pair of pauldrons were the next to be carefully removed. You stepped closer into his space, his legs spreading to accommodate you and you felt the sparks reach up into your sternum. A stuttering gasp fell from your lips when you felt the twitch of him where the front of your thighs pressed into the inner most part of his own.

“S-sorry.”

You leaned down, hands hooking over the broadness of his shoulders. Running the tip of your nose along the exposed skin of his throat, down to where it connected with his collarbone. Placing a chaste kiss there, you let your lips brush against him softly as you spoke.

“It’s okay, I want to feel you.” He twitched again and the sparks bloomed into a simmering heat. “If you’d let me.”

Whatever answer he was about to speak died in his throat as you reached for his belt, the buckle clinking and effectively shutting his thoughts down. Loosening the belt, you untucked the long sleeve he had on, exposing his toned upper body. His shoulders and chest were broad even without the protection of his prized armor. The cut from one of Xi’an’s knives was red and irritated, you were thankful she didn’t douse them in anything before hurling them. The skin around it was splattered with a bit of dried blood and you reached for the cloth once again to wipe it away.

Chest adorned with dark hair that you ran a hand over in a petting motion. He twitched against your upper thigh, and you looked down to see the outline of him through the fabric. Feeling the way he was practically throbbing at your attention, you reached a hand down and were about to caress him when one of his hands stopped you.

“Don’t want you feeling like you have to, just because of what happened. Or to…prove something.”

You shook your head, letting him know that’s not what was fueling your attention. Hands resting firmly on his chest, bare skin on bare skin you looked right into the visor.

“I want to. I-I may have been thinking about it the past few days. But seeing how quickly things can fall apart, I want to know you in this way, to show you that I care about you in this way.”

He nodded once, listening to you, believing the earnest words you spoke to him. You reached down to rid yourself of the tank top that was stained with your own blood. The fabric hushing as it moved over the bacta patch in your shoulder. As soon as the clothing was added to the pile of his armor, his hands were on you, pulling you tight to him. You gasped at the press of your nearly naked front to his, heat simmering into something almost overwhelming, nerves lighting up.

He surged up, arms holding you to him underneath your thighs. Tightening your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, he made sure you were secure before he walked you over to his quarters.

“Is he-“

“He’s in my room, wanted to see the lights through the small window.”

“Good,” He rumbled as he gently laid you down atop the cot, taking in the way you looked in just your bandeau wrapping and sleep shorts. Soft, tan skin on display for him. The dark smattering of his chest hair, the hair that trailed below his belly button and down beneath the band of his underwear. His hips bones visible, his stomach a little soft, his muscles strong and defined. It made you feel honored that he would share his body with you, allow you to see him in his purest form.

You reached for him, tugging him into the space between your legs by the belt loops of his trousers, knees dangling over the edge of the cot.

“Not everything.” You whispered, tone lifting at the end in a hesitant question. Self-conscious of the bleeding that had been slowing, body still adjusting to a natural rhythm of hormonal changes after so long. Afraid of moving too fast, of being too much, of not being enough. Wanting him despite the trepidation of this being the first time you were sharing yourself with a man in this way, given the choice to.

His fingers deftly worked the buttons and shimmied the clothing down his legs, revealing the toned muscles that had only been glimpsed at through the cut in them. He was beautiful, a pillar of strength and skill, the build of him telling of his training and lifestyle. The bulge of him against the black fabric of his boxer briefs was obvious and your eyes stayed trained on it. He looked so big and you wanted to feel him against you. Kicking your shorts from where you had removed them from your hips, you pulled him down onto the cot.

His visor was aimed at the damp spot darkening the light fabric of your underwear.

“Mesh’la-“

He groaned, words drowned out by the sound as you hooked your legs around his waist and ground up into him. His hands supported himself on either side of you, hovering over you in the small space, as his body folded over you.

He rutted against you, body taking over as the heat of you so close was all he could feel paired with the softness of your skin. The dim lights in the personal quarters bathing you in an ethereal glow. You keened as the heft of him moved against you, the hardness between his legs making desperation form low in your middle. You gasped, head tossing back with his slow movements, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that shot straight down to your core. Slick seeped into the fabric of your underwear, and your hands shot out to hold him tight to ground yourself. The action pushed your chest together, breasts jiggling with his motions as the thin fabric of your bandeau did nothing to hide the perk nipples that shown through.

The tip of his cock caught on the hood of your cunt, the pressure spinning your head despite the thin layers that separated you. The feeling of him hot and hard against your aching clit pulled a throaty grunt from you, fingers curling into the muscles of his arms, nails digging into his skin. The front of his helmet thudded against your forehead, drawing your eyes to the visor so close. You wish you could see into it, through it, the way his eyes had to be blown out. You wondered what color they were, not for the first time, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as pleasure tingled all over.

“Good, mesh’la,” He panted, modulator crackling with his heavy breaths. Your hips bucked as he ground into you, body spurred on by the need to feel him even closer. But not yet, it would be too much too soon. One of his hands hovered over your chest, fingers reaching but pausing as if he was unsure if he was allowed to touch. “You feel so good.”

“Please touch me,” You arched your back, pushing your chest up to where his hand hovered. When his palm cupped one of your breasts, a moan tore from your throat at the sensation. Your hips lifted instinctively, seeking him out for more more more. You breath quickened as your stomach pulled taut, so close to the edge. It was overwhelming in the best way, the pleasure sparking steadily between the feeling of him rutting between your legs, the way his thumb brushed over your nipple as he palmed your breast. He was everywhere.

“Din, please,” Your eyes watered, the sensations all consuming. He pressed closer to you, hips undulating as he chased his own pleasure. He stilled his hips and ground against you, nudging that little bundle of nerves just right. Muscled tightening, back arching, legs caging him in as close as possible, you tried to tell him, let him know how good he felt when your release washed over your senses like hot water.

The keening sound that fell from your lips trailed off into a whimper as he thrusted against your slick covered underwear, guiding you through your orgasm. His hand at your chest flew to support himself once again, not able to keep up as his own release began to bear down on him. Once, twice, three more times before you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his own release as it collected at the front of his own underwear where he was pressed against you. Moaning your name, long and low, it would simmer in your mind for days.

He panted against you, chests bumping as you breathed heavily and looked up at him with blissed out eyes and an expression so soft that his heart skipped a beat where it thudded against his ribcage.

Gasping as he lifted his hips away from where they pressed against you, little aftershocks of pleasure rippled over your body. Hands reaching, you pulled the ruined underwear from around your hips and shimmied them off. Din’s helmet immediately turned as he didn’t want to overstep eliciting a soft laugh from you as he took the fabric you shoved against his hand dangling at his side as he stood.

When he went to step away, your expression fell. He must’ve sensed the shift in the air, the hesitancy and nervousness for his departure so soon after such an intimate moment.

“Just gonna go clean up, get you something to change into. Please don’t worry, mesh’la.”

Moments later, he returned to the dark quarters. You had pulled the covers back atop the cot and turned the lights off, getting the space ready for sleep. He skimmed his warm palms up the length of your exposed legs, a damp washcloth in warm against you as he gently wiped away your drying release from between your legs. The fabric of the cloth right against your clit in a brief pass had you gasping out, and he chuckled lowly. He swapped out the cloth for a pair of new underwear in his grip. He tapped the side of your thighs for you to lift your hips and he settled them on you.

Getting situated underneath the covers took a little shifting as you both tried to lay in a way that irritate new injuries. He ended up on his back, not able to lay side by side with you as both your thighs were bandaged opposite each other. You folded yourself over his chest, head resting in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, injured leg thrown over his middle. His heart was beating fast beneath you, and you buried your face into his skin and breathed in deep.

Content, safe, satiated. Everything felt right with the world in that moment.

“I’ve never removed it be with her, I never removed anything.” He spoke quietly into the darkness, his hand gently caressing your hip, not wanting to wake you lest you had fallen asleep. His body was alight with tingles, energy ebbing and flowing over his skin from the realization of what you two had just shared. It had been the most intimate he had ever been with anyone, had ever wanted to be with anyone.

The hum that vibrated into his skin was all the answer he got as sleep pulled him under to rest alongside you.

You stared. Unabashedly.

Maker, you couldn’t help it. You like to think of yourself as having self-control and a good sense of strength but… you were realizing how false those notions were as your eyes remained trained on the sight in front of you. Din was kneeling on the ground in front of an open panel along the floor of the hold. He was leaning slightly into the exposed space, his back arched slightly and his backside suspended in the air. The fabric of his pants was pulled taut over his form in such a way that you couldn’t even begin to decipher the mumbled words falling from the man’s mouth as he fiddled with something.

Desire flared strong in your middle, stretching down to pool between your legs and you felt your mouth go dry. He shifted slightly, leaning forward a bit more and his backside canted up just enough for you to see the barest outline of-

“San!” He called out, making you jump and scramble to look like you were busy. You took a few hurried, quiet steps toward where the crate that doubled as a table was set up and began to gather the mess from yours and adi’ka’s lunch. You didn’t dare turn around, listening intently to the hush of his movements as he extracted himself from the space he had been leaning into behind the paneling.

“San, I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?” He was suddenly behind you, making you jump slightly.

You were still flushed, which drew his attention to your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” You replied simply, not able to face him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Concern flowed from him, his words soft but holding a tone that booked no argument. Wanting to know if you were alright, for you to be honest with him. You worried for a second if he thought you were having regrets about the night before, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that, that had been…wonderful and so enticing. He had been so warm, throbbing against you where you needed him the most, his hands and the sounds bleeding from the helmet as he moved against you…

“San, why you won’t look at me?”

You turned before the words even registered completely, pinning look and desperate eyes on display for him. Unable to hide that you wanted him, even if it was still new. For both of you, a tentative bridge formed between you that you wanted to explore further.

“That’s what’s wrong with me, I was watching you while you were crouching and it- you looked, you looked good okay.” One of the cannisters fell from your grip, nervous energy lighting you up.

He was suddenly in your personal space, you back pressed up against the siding of the hold space. But you didn’t feel threatened, you felt excited. Pulled into his front by a hand snaking around your middle, you looked up at him, the visor glinting in the lights turned on all around.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” He rumbled, voice dark as he realized you weren’t injured or sick. That you were turned on, just by looking at him as he did the most mundane things to fill the time of space travel.

“Y-yes, you-you fill out your pants very well.”

“Hmm, never realized.” He tilted his helmet to the side, thoughts swirling around your mind stalling at the adorable motion.

He leaned in, as if he was about to press the front of his helmet to your forehead but he detangled from you instead and was rummaging through an open crate that contained his multitude of tools. You stayed where he had ushered you, body thrumming with the lingering heat of how he had been on you in seconds, of your confession.

“He’s watching, don’t want to scar him.” Din said by way of explanation as he nodded his head toward the open quarters. Adi’ka was in his hammock, head poking out of it and peering at you curiously.

“Din Djarin, you tease!” You tried to hide the smile pulling at your lips, but you knew it was a futile attempt. His chuckle and your light laughter urged adi’ka to giggle his own amusement.

“Ni mirdir vi ru'kir nuhoy o'r te oriya.” You looked over at him briefly, fingers skimming over the tools laid out for sale atop a table, attention captured by the environment that reminded you of the good parts of your childhood. Working on something that interested you, spurred on by the kind and encouraging words of your mother who hadn’t yet turned on you.

I think we should sleep in the city.

“Vi ganar te Crest.”

We have the Crest.

“Vi ganar a prudii, par jaon Tuur'ika jii. Liser’t copad at alorir bic norac.”

We’ve had a shadow, for over an hour now. Don’t want to lead them back.”

“Ni kar’taylir.”

I know.

“Vi ru'kir ve'ganir a yamika, nayc? Hiibir baatir be te prudii. Dinui at jor'adir. A pel haav, nadala skraan, a holo net, nadala pirun…”

We should book a room. To shake off the shadow. A reward to celebrate. Soft bed, fresh food, a holo net, a hot bath…

“Nadala pirun?” Something simmered behind his words, the hint of a promise in yours stirring something in him. The glint in your eye as you successfully negotiated what you wanted, as if he had been willing to turn you down after asking after it. He would give you anything you asked for, you were discovering, as long as it was within reason. Wanting for you to be comfortable and feel like yourself in any way. You were grateful for all that he offered you, for the chance to discover yourself after so long, and who could argue with a night spent in a fancy hotel?

“One with a lot of bubbles and water so hot it steams up the entire fresher.” You finally turned your attention to him, switching back to speaking in Basic, a pair of goggles in your hand. “Maybe I’ll let you join me.”

Walking away from him and back to where the vendor had appeared from the back, leaving him to his thoughts of your offer.

He was unnervingly still the rest of the time spent in the shop, keeping a healthy distance as you talked to the discussed what the pieces you provided were worth, the materials they were made from, the techniques used to create them, all to help him gauge what he could sell them for. He agreed to give you a handsome sum for the pieces you were selling, enough to make you internally question how long it had been since he’d been able to offer this kind of work.

“If you’re ever back this way, don’t hesitate to drop by. My partner and I would be willing to buy whatever you have, the craftsman ship is exquisite, truly.”

You both left the shop, walking side by side through the bustling street, full of people in the midday hour.

“How much did he offer you?”

“Oh, like four thousand per piece? Which is pretty high considering most plated armor goes for about six for a full set, but he liked that it was handmade, the quality of the metal. He really liked the stitching pattern I used to give the pieces more durability that will enhance the longevity of them.”

“I’ve been in the wrong line of work then.”

“Nonsense, how much do you average for a job?”

“Depends on the risk. More often than not, like back on Sorgan, what is offered is enough and then shelter and food are appreciated. Not particular about rates or standards, but the Guild would offer one to two thousand for intermediate quarries.”

“How very admirable of you, burc’ya.”

Friend.

That’s what he was, to you. Perhaps it was a tame way of describing his place in your life. But it was a start, it was comfortable. Being around him, getting to know the intimate parts of each other’s lives, sharing parts of yourselves with each other that no one else knew of. A bond that was growing with each passing day.

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taglist: @strawberri-blonde @js-favnanadoongi @littlemisspascal @moonknight-s-cumdump @bookloverkat @golden-mando @beskarandblasters

dividers by the lovely @/saradika || saradika-graphics

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marivenah · 2 months

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SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY / MUSIC MONDAY on a Tuesday

hello everyone, I was tagged by @captmactavish @carlosoliveiraa @voidika @inafieldofdaisies and @aceghosts to share some wips and music, thank you all 🧡

tagging (opt in/out): @risingsh0t @onehornedbeast @nightbloodbix @finding-comfort-in-rain @josephslittledeputy @socially-awkward-skeleton @voidika @thedeadthree @shadowglens @corvosattano @purplehairsecretlair @fourlittleseedlings @strangefable @kyber-infinitygems @leviiackrman @roofgeese @captastra @gwynbleidd @cassietrn @ri-a-rose @shellibisshe + @bbrocklesnar @alexxmason @confidentandgood @direwombat @timdownie @gearvmac

it's been almost a month since the last wip post ough and would you look at that, I'm still working on the same fic. roughly 12k words and 4 chapters in by now. let's see how long I can keep this up lol as of now, I've been hit by I've been struck by imposter syndrome so the next chapter isn't going as smoothly

just to give you a little summary, as some of you have pointed out the... references last time, this fic is about the literal Adam and Eve lol the man's is an Angel in Heaven and our girl is (at least in this fic) a Demon in Hell

Swallowing the lump in her throat is nearly impossible. She’s shaking from the fear of turning around and finding the answers to her questions. That small voice that she banished to the very back of her mind is now growing louder, telling her to turn around. Not even the heartbeat sounding in her ears can drown it out. And somehow, it manages to deprive her of all worry. As if she just forgot what that is.

There’s no hesitation. Eve turns back around to look at the Sinner and—

“Adam?”, a crack in her voice.

ok, those are 7 sentences but I couldn't leave out the last one. and now, songs!

when you wait thousands of years for your wife to show up but she doesn't ✌ sad boi hours. he'd never admit it of course, but. he's alone. and sad :(

now THIS, this is perfect for my little version of Eve, who was cast down to Hell after her death

She was a stranger to his world Til he promised her that it was heaven She's got by her side And then it wasn't And then she's fallen Then he is nowhere to be found

The puddles reflected nobody there but herself And then the road changed And then it opened To something she's only felt in her mind

#wip tag #i'm sorry for being so annoying about them but #they're everything to me #and i just want to talk to someone about this fic #waahhh #I might've run into some issues and I can only discuss it with myself rn lmao #the feminine urge to just scrap most of it

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 5 months

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tagged by: @cassieuncaged (this week) and @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @kyber-infinitygems and @g0dspeeed (last week) thank you all so much <3 *tagging all of you back as well*

tagging: @ocdemon-747 @unholymilf @wrathfulrook @amalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @mccarthycormac @mxanigel @madparadoxum @carlosoliveiraa @confidentandgood @afarcry5fromstraight @nightbloodbix @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @clicheantagonist @strafethesesinners @statichvm @peppertheferalraccoon @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy @florbelles @poetikat @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt

Writing Tag List here to be added/removed

welp after a brief writing hiatus and wanting to tear my hair out, i'm back with a continuation of the cod prequel fic tending to wounds scene! (I should be working on chapter 4, instead I have nearly all of chapter 11 written. don't look at me I go where the muse takes me and that apparently included one angsty "first" kiss and Price slipping into "dad mode" with the woman he has feelings for *smooth*)

(I know most of you don't go here so no pressure to read of course)

Rory found herself rubbing at her throat once more, her fingers tracing over the indents she imagined to be there from phantom hands that still wrapped around her. “Thank you, John.”

“For what?”

“Looking out for me, and cleaning me up.”

“‘Course.”

She cleared her throat, trying to cough out the tender swelling in her trachea. Her eyes lifted to look at him once more, a sincerity in her eyes that her words couldn’t truly express in the moment. “I appreciate it.”

“I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not your job to protect me.”

“You have my six, I have yours,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Right,” she said, shaking her head.

John’s brow furrowed at her reaction. It was clear her ego was still bruised after the fight she went through. Caught off guard, made to feel weak – she didn’t deserve to feel like that. She was no lamb, despite the call sign, she had that beast in her just like him. Nose wrinkling as he tightened his jaw, he had to say something. “Hey, I didn’t save you, Rory. You did that all by yourself. Don’t go thinking that I don’t know you can hold your own, because I do. You’re tough. I mean that. You don’t become a Sergeant ‘cause of a pretty face. You have the experience. Not everyone could have done what you did in that situation.” He moved closer, shifting his weight on his feet. “You don’t need me protecting you, but I’m happy to do it.”

There was so much earnestness in his words and his expression, that she couldn’t help herself. Her hands lifted to cup his jaw and trace her fingers through the whiskers on his cheeks before rational thought could even hit her, bringing his face down to meet hers in a kiss. It wasn’t hungry or rushed like the last time they’d been this close, it wasn’t hormones and alcohol fueling it, it was soft…and safe. His forehead pressed to hers, but he didn’t dare touch her with his hands, not after what she’d been through. Grabbing the sink ledge instead, he leaned down into her, letting her take the lead, happy to let her steal the very oxygen from his lungs.

Her lips were soft, more tender than anything he’d felt in years, and he did his best not to get too carried away, lost in the sensation of a mouth he’d thought about when he’d been away on duty. That random encounter he’d never planned on making as much of an impression on him as it did, especially as they had come back together after so long. Knowing just how kiss-bruised he’d left her mouth the last time, full lips left that much plumper. God, she was gorgeous then and having gotten to know her now as the hard ass soldier, she was even more stunning now.

But as quick as the kiss happened, it ended.

Her hands dropping as her lips pulled away from him, but her forehead remained pressed to his as she looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Do you see me complaining?” The grizzled soldier was made soft, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She closed her eyes and pushed her hands through her hair. Pulling the limp, wet locks back and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“It’s okay. Shit happens,” he kept his rasping voice low and quiet, the way someone would speak to calm a frightened animal. “We can just chalk it up to stress.”

“But what if it’s not, John?”

It was his turn to clear his throat, pulling back as he crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed the back of his neck, the lines in his face creasing as he grimaced.

“I saw the way you were looking at me earlier. It’s not just me feeling this either, is it?”

“It’s being in close proximity with someone you –” He paused, staring into her eyes. “Rory, I –”

“I’ve explained it to myself a million different ways. Trying to remind myself that we’re professionals, that this is just another mission. That whatever I’m feeling is some residual from that time we had together…and who knows, maybe it still is with us trapped in close quarters. I know that even bringing up this conversation with you is stepping out of bounds. You’re my commanding officer, this is fraternizing with a subordinate…I don’t do this sort of thing.”

“We seem to have a history of going outside of our norm with each other.”

She groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. He wasn’t wrong. “So what do we do? Finish out the rest of this mission like nothing’s happened and then we go our separate ways again?”

He stepped back from her, severing the tie as much as every muscle in his body wanted the exact opposite. His hands instinctively rose to where his tactical vest would normally sit on his shoulders, wishing he had that sort of protection right now. “I don’t think this is the right time to be bringing this up, eh? You’re worn out. Have your shower, get some rest. We’ll start fresh in the morning,” he said, giving her a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Rory nodded, her eyes dimming as they fell once more. “Yes, Captain.”

And just like that, the floodgates between them were shut once more.

Leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him, John sat on the edge of his bed lighting up another cigar. Rubbing at his brow in a concentrated effort to ignore the taste of her on his lips, trying to drown out the pervasive smell of iron that clung to her and filled his nostrils as the sound of water spraying from the shower head began. His heart and head were telling him two very different things. It was a dangerous game to get tied up with someone you worked with, especially as a soldier. Things weren’t supposed to get personal. Taking his mind off the mission, off the task at hand, meant people could get hurt, or worse, killed.

She was almost killed.

He heaved out a sigh, blowing out smoke with the intensity of a dragon. There was no denying the fact that he’d already let her get close, closer than most. And God help him, he’d been jealous. He wanted her. It was as simple as that. But nothing about what they might have felt for one another was inherently simple. She was right about fraternizing, they were edging up to the line and if they crossed it, if even a whiff of that reached their superiors they could lose everything. The only saving grace was that this was just one mission. One mission, and then she could go back to the SRR and he’d be back with SAS and no one would be any the wiser. Christ, he shouldn’t have been thinking like this. Trying to come up with ways to work around the rules, but it’s what he was used to. Skirting around the red tape to do what was necessary, going above the law to make things right. What was happening here though, it wasn’t the same thing. This wasn’t about what served the greater purpose for others, this was about him. And her. God, the things he was already willing to do for her.

#wip wednesday #fic: all along the watchtower #oc: rory sinclair #john price #cod fan fic #ship: you are the sword to my shield

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sweetrevxnge · 8 months

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Twenty | Across the Stars

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

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Word count: 6.4k

Chapter-specific CW: NSFW, descriptions of drowning

A/N: yes, I took 6 months to update this. no, I don't have any good excuses. but if you're still here reading along, know that I appreciate you so, so much and am trying my best to write more often :') ALSO... since starting this story, Lucasfilm has officially stated that Luke's academy is located on Ossus, so I'm going to edit the story to match that!

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“Geegee, set course for Ilum.”

Ben’s voice echoed through the steel ship as you watched the Academy fade into the distance, lost in the green expanse of Ossus. You stood at the back of the ship’s hull, choosing to watch your departure from a narrow viewport rather than the cockpit.

“Right away, Master Solo,” said the droid, joints squeaking as it tottered to the cockpit.

As the roar of the ship’s engines lowered to a hum, unease crept in. While the thought of venturing into the galaxy to find a kyber crystal once filled you with excitement, it now made your stomach churn. It’s going to be okay, you told yourself, trying to make it true.

Leaving the safety of the New Republic’s surveillance was hard enough on its own, let alone voyaging to a foreign ice planet in the Unknown Regions. It wasn’t all bad, though. Knowing that Geegee automatically transmitted a signal back to the Academy provided you some comfort.

Behind you, you could hear the clicks and whirs of the control panel as Ben prepared the hyperdrive. You turned around, finding him hunched over the panel, muttering something about the motivator. Despite his frustration, he carried an air of confidence as he worked. Shoulders relaxed, hair pushed back from his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the first time you had flown with him in the Grimtaash.

The memory flashed in your mind when your eyes landed on the co-pilot’s seat—the same seat that cradled your bruised, bleeding body the night you escaped Zeffo. Just the thought of it was enough to make you doubt this entire journey.

Ben sat down in his chair, letting out an accomplished sigh as he rested his hands on his knees. With the coordinates entered and the drone of the engines steadily growing louder, you knew what was coming next.

“Everything alright over there?”

Ben’s voice snapped you from your trance. You let out a sharp breath, unaware that you had been holding it for the duration of your reverie.

“Princess?” he said louder this time, craning his neck to meet your gaze.

Whether it was your unconvincing nod or your failure to meet his gaze after his question that gave your apprehension away, you weren’t sure. Regardless, in a matter of seconds, he had jumped out of his chair and come to stand in front of you, hands clasped over yours in a firm—yet comforting—grip.

“Talk to me, princess.”

It came in pieces. The pounding in your temples, followed by the pungent taste of blood coating your tongue. But the memories weren’t strictly physical. Defeat and desperation replaced your climbing anxiety, polluting your senses with the stench of utter fear. All from just looking at a piece of furniture.

Just before you could unravel, Ben’s grip on you tightened, pulling you from your thoughts. It wasn’t until your name spilled over his lips, drenched with concern, that you pulled your gaze away from the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’m sorry, I can’t–”

“Stop it.”

You stiffened. “Stop what?”

“Saying sorry all the time,” he said with a tsk. “I’m going to start charging you five credits every time you do it.”

“Well, the joke’s on you then. I don’t have any credits,” you said dryly.

Ben cocked an eyebrow at you and, without him saying a single word, you gave in. Exhaling a long breath, your nerves settled.

“It’s just hard being in here again, even under the best circumstances.” Without realizing it, you found yourself squeezing his hands in return, holding onto him like a lifeline. “Not to mention what would happen if I were unable to find a kyber crystal. Master Skywalker would send me into exile and I would be forced to live a life veiled in shame and failure–”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, fighting back a laugh. “But that’s not going to happen. It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he said, releasing your hands as he sat down again. “Now, we need to make the jump to hyperspace, which is unfortunately something you need to be sitting for. It’ll just be a moment, okay?”

You nodded in understanding, moving to sit in the co-pilot’s chair. But before you could lower yourself into the seat, Ben’s hands locked onto your waist, spinning you around and pulling you to sit on his lap.

A gasp escaped your mouth, earning a deep, amused laugh from the pilot. You whipped your head around, shooting him a disapproving look.

“What? I didn’t specify where you had to sit,” he said, squeezing your hips lightly. His gentle touch eased your nerves, calming you in a matter of seconds.

“You’re an infuriating man, you know that?” you said with mock ridicule.

“So I’m told.” Dimples framed his smile, melting away any remaining concern. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost believe that his charm was more effective than any sedative a medical droid could offer. Almost.

Ben leaned forward, toggling a few more switches on the control panel. The feeling of his lips grazing the shell of your ear pulled you from your thoughts.

“Will you do me the honor?” he asked, weaving his fingers with yours as he guided your hand to the slender chrome lever in the center of the dashboard. The hyperdrive.

“Are you sure I’m qualified?” you asked.

With a peck on the cheek, he replied, “Absolutely.”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, causing your hands to tremble as you grabbed the rod. It was natural to be nervous about flying—especially when you were in the pilot’s seat. But the big arms wrapped around your torso assured you that you were safe.

As you pulled back on the lever, the engines roared in crescendo, launching the ship into hyperspace. The momentum pinned you against Ben, forcing you to grab onto the armrests for support. In the blink of an eye, the stars surrounding you transformed into blinding streaks of light before morphing into the swirling blue blur of deep space. To say it was exhilarating would be an understatement.

“Look at you,” Ben cooed, planting another kiss on your shoulder. “Before you know it, you’ll be piloting this thing all by yourself.”

You scoffed. “I seriously doubt that. I can barely operate a landspeeder without endangering myself and others.”

“Well, there’s only one way to get better, and I assure you, I’m a much better teacher than my uncle is.” Ben lowered his seat to a more comfortable position, pulling you back with him until you were resting against his chest.

“Is that so?” You couldn’t control your wandering hands as they crawled up the pleats of his robes, peeling back the fabric along his chest and neck.

He clasped your hands in his, holding them in place. “I mean it. After everything that happened, I want you to be comfortable piloting if you need to.”

There it was again, that horrible cloud that hung over your head at the mere mention of Zeffo. As if sensing this, Ben sighed and brought your fingers to his lips.

His warm breath spreading over your skin and his big, brown eyes peering up at you softened your resolve, leaving you no choice but to agree. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“I think you’ll find that I can be quite persuasive,” he said as he kissed the tender pads of your fingers, slowly working his way from pinky to thumb. He lingered on the last digit, dragging it over his plush lips. “Want me to show you?”

You nodded, mind turning hazy as you watched his lips, keenly aware of his other hand creeping under your tunic.

“Ben, we really shouldn’t,” you said halfheartedly, trying and failing to pull your hands free.

“Why not?”

“Because…” You drew the word out, motioning with your eyes to the empty hull of the ship. “This ship isn’t exactly private.”

He followed your gaze. “I see. Here, allow me to fix that.”

Without taking his attention off you, Ben flicked a switch on the control panel, causing the sliding door of the cockpit to close, hissing as it sealed you in.

“Better?” he asked, slipping his other hand under your robes, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind as he inched towards your bra.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you rolled your hips forward, pressing down on his growing desire. “Much.”

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Now, we need to address a different issue. You’re wearing too many clothes.” His wandering hands stopped at the clasp of your bra, undoing it in one swift motion. “Let’s fix that.”

Raising your arms over your head, you let him peel away the heavy cloth, kicking off your boots as he did the same with his robes. Arousal burned through you as you undressed in the small space, cursing the confines of the cockpit. Still in his uniform pants, Ben pulled you onto his lap again, eyes raking over your newly exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it.

All that remained now was your underwear, the only barrier between you and the rough cloth of his pants as you straddled his hips. “Why do I always end up more naked than you?”

“Shh…” A smirk ghosted his lips as strong hands moved to grab fistfuls of your ass, squeezing with a bruising force. “We wouldn’t want anyone overhearing us, would we?”

The heat simmering low in your belly quickly transformed into a wild flame, demanding attention. Lacing your fingers through his hair, you kissed down the curve of his neck, running along the taut muscles until you reached his collarbone.

“I can’t make any promises,” you said, teeth grazing his skin.

A low moan rumbled in his chest, vibrating on your lips. “Fuck,” he said under his breath, snaking a hand up your spine and doing the same to your hair. Tugging your head back, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “Then I’ll have to find another way to keep you quiet.”

With that, his grip loosened, fingers moving to trace over your jaw until his thumb slid over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered, trailing kisses down your chest, coming dangerously close to your breasts.

You obeyed, squirming in his lap from the anticipation, seeking any relief for the ache growing between your legs. As you parted your lips, he pushed his thumb into your mouth.

“Good. Now, suck.”

Head spinning with arousal, you swirled your tongue over his digit, earning a groan of approval from him. You stifled a gasp as he took a nipple into his mouth, alternating between sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Beneath you, you could feel his cock stiffening, causing your arousal to burn hotter.

Wanting to encourage this, you sucked harder, allowing your moans to rumble around his thumb. When his cock twitched against you, you beamed with pride.

A moment later, he released your nipple with a pop, free hand fumbling with the waistband of his pants. “I need to fuck you,” he said, practically begging as he worked his pants down.

Every nerve in your body was alight, needy for attention. He pulled his thumb away, watching in awe as a string of saliva fell from your lips before running it over the head of his cock. Pupils blown with lust, he wasted no time, dragging your underwear to the side and spreading your desire around your entrance.

With a grunt, he paused, searching your eyes. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, aligning yourself with him. “Please.”

You both let out a sigh as he pushed into you, lips clashing together. Before long, you relaxed around him, sinking your hips lower, relishing how he stretched you. He moved slowly at first, giving you control as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the headrest. Dark locks of hair fanned over his face, clinging to the beads of sweat forming on his skin.

True to his word, he kept quiet, concealing his groans of pleasure as heavy breaths. The same couldn’t be said for you, who was letting out wanton moans with every thrust. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though. The desire coursing through you had addled your mind, leaving you unable to control yourself.

A particularly loud gasp caught Ben’s attention, causing him to slow his movements. “Careful, princess.”

Nails digging into the armrests, you held back another moan. “Sorry—I just can’t—help it.”

“I know you can’t.” The corners of his lips twitched and before you knew it, his thumb was seeking entrance to your mouth again. “Now, be a good girl for me and stay quiet.”

Running your tongue over his thumb, you welcomed him in again, heat rushing to your core as you sucked. Ben’s breaths grew erratic as he continued to fuck into you, eyes trained on your lips. He effectively silenced you, but the few moans that managed to escape were now muffled by his thumb instead.

“That’s my girl,” he said, sliding his finger free and dropping it to your aching clit. “I think you deserve a reward.”

“Don’t tease, Ben,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly applied pressure.

“Didn’t plan on it,” he said, drawing tight circles around your bud.

The sensation was enough to drive you insane, hips rolling involuntarily against his hand, demanding more. Insatiable as ever, you pleaded for him to go faster, earning his cooperation.

“Fuck—baby—you look so good riding me.” His words were broken by quick breaths, evidence of his mounting pleasure. Your thighs burned from straddling his, trembling as your own pleasure threatened to wash over you. Every second you spent teetering on the edge felt torturous, stretching for eternity.

Desperate for release, you rolled your hips harder, forcing more pressure from Ben’s hand. A string of expletives fell from your lips as your resolve shattered, allowing the ecstasy bubbling beneath the surface to flood in. You bit down on the back of your hand, lost in the waves of euphoria that rippled through your body, your cunt pulsing around his cock.

With one last thrust, Ben gripped you tight, pulling you against his chest and burying his face into your neck. He littered your skin with sloppy kisses as he regained his composure, slowly leaning back into the seat.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his as your fingers traced over his rattling chest.

He let out a long sigh through his nose before agreeing. “Me too.”

Time passed like the stars swirling around you, and before long, the Grimtaash snapped out of hyperspace, revealing the ice planet of Ilum before you.

With a striking, silvery atmosphere, and patches of white storms riddling its surface, Ilum was truly a sight to behold. Unlike Dantooine and Ossus, there was no distinction between the terrains, only a vast, pale landscape.

“You weren’t lying about the snow,” you said, standing from your seat to get a better look.

“That’s what the coats are for,” Ben replied with a wink before calling back to the hull of the ship. “Geegee, prepare the landing sequence.”

The two of you had traded your robes for thermals and jackets in anticipation of landing, but despite the layers, a chill traveled down your spine. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was from the planet’s atmosphere radiating through the ship, but you knew what caused it. The prospect of adventure, traversing the unknown with the person you love by your side.

The realization felt like a blow to your chest, upsetting your balance as you reclaimed your seat. A string of beeps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. Master Skywalker’s astromech had come out of rest mode, now serving as a well-timed distraction.

Ben laughed under his breath. “No, Artoo. Your wheels will freeze to the ground if you go with us.”

The droid fired back, warbling as he rocked side to side on his wheels in defiance.

“You know I’m right! We can’t just sit around all day waiting for you to defrost.”

Another rebuttal from the droid, one that made Ben’s mouth fall open. “Just… stay on the ship, okay?”

R2-D2 concluded his argument with another string of beeps before spinning his head and body around and leaving the cockpit.

The low hum of machinery permeated the silence as you sat back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. You would’ve given anything to know what R2-D2 had said to get under Ben’s skin the way he did.

Ahead, the Grimtaash entered the planet’s atmosphere, causing the ship to lurch as it sliced through the storm clouds. The floor beneath you no longer felt solid as the turbulence rattled the ship like a leaf in the wind, dread stirring in your stomach.

“Hold on tight—it’s going to be a rough landing,” Ben said, hunched over the control panel as he completed the landing sequence.

“Yeah, I gathered that!”

With knuckles blanched around the armrests, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the chaos to settle. When the ship finally touched the ground, you relaxed, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Running a hand through his glossy black hair, Ben smiled at you. “Welcome to Ilum.”

All the furs and thermals in the galaxy couldn’t have prepared you for the cold of Ilum. It was visceral, threatening to turn every drop of blood in your body into crimson ice. White flurries engulfed you, blinding you to your surroundings. If it weren’t for his hand clutching yours, you’d hardly be able to make out where Ben stood.

“Lovely weather this time of year, isn’t it?” he joked, voice raised over the howling wind.

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when the chill spread through your teeth, prompting you to pull one of your many layers over your nose for coverage. “I didn’t think it was possible to be this cold.”

Shielding the snow from his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Once we get inside the caves, it won’t be so bad.”

From the depths of his coat pockets, he retrieved a small cylindrical device, struggling to activate it from the confines of his leather gloves. Finally, a blue digital map appeared in the center, displaying a system of caves and tunnels northeast of where you’d landed.

“There,” he said, his breaths strained from the weather. “The closest entrance is less than a kilometer away. Follow me.”

Wordlessly, you did as you were told, careful to step in Ben’s footprints to avoid sinking through the snow. The two of you were uncharacteristically quiet as you trekked through the tundra. You daydreamed about beams of sunlight, steaming cups of caf, and hot showers—just to name a few. More than just a coping mechanism for the intense cold, it also served as a distraction from the task awaiting you.

A natural opening in the crag served as your respite from the elements, inviting you to explore the labyrinth within. Despite being encased in frost and ice, the alcove felt warm, if only from the vapor of your breaths.

“So, where do we go from here?” you asked, voice hoarse from the wind.

“That’s kind of the problem,” Ben said, peeling off his wind-beaten jacket. “The Empire gutted this place, making it unstable in some areas. For now, we’ll follow the charted tunnels.”

“Why am I not surprised to hear that?” you grumbled, doing the same with your coat. It came as no surprise to learn that the Empire plundered the Jedi’s sacred planet, destroying the ancient temple housed in its caves as they did. Twisting the knife in the Jedi Order’s back.

“It’s what they did best. But that’s why we’re here,” he said, a smile tugging at his rosy lips. “To rebuild.”

To defend, you thought. Your heart sank at the idea of your efforts being in vain. What good would a fledgling Jedi Order be against a rising empire? If the old Order crumbled at the height of its power, Master Skywalker’s Order didn’t stand a chance.

You cleared your throat, pushing your thoughts aside and refocusing on the task at hand. “Right. Well, then. Where should we start?” you asked, glancing at the glowing holomap in his palm.

“That’s not my decision to make.” His eyes twinkled from the blue light of the map as he placed it in your hand.

As much as you wanted to reject it, you didn’t. He was right, after all. This was your journey; he was just here as support.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to hear any complaints if we get lost.”

He smiled down at you. “Sure thing, princess.”

You nodded, holding his gaze for a moment longer. It was impossible to ignore his frostbitten beauty. Tendrils of hair clung to his forehead, the result of melted frost and sweat. The cold highlighted his sharp features more than ever, coloring his cheeks and nose in a peachy hue. Under different circumstances, you’d be happy to help him warm up.

Heat rushed to your face as you refocused on the holomap. Now was not the time—and most certainly not the place.

You examined the details of the holomap, trying to make sense of the labyrinth of grainy blue pathways. The crack you’d slipped through was just one of many that led to the caverns within, like veins tracing back to a heart. From what you could tell, the path you were on eventually let out into a central chamber, which then branched out into a handful of different tunnels. It was as good a starting point as any, and with a deep breath, you set out.

Ben followed behind you as you navigated the tunnel, with only the occasional drop of water breaking the comfortable silence. Stalactites adorned the ceiling, each bearing a unique state of damage. Every inch of the slate walls shimmered with ice crystals, reflecting in all directions as the blue glow of the holomap passed by. Slivers of clouded sunlight squeezed through cracks in the cavern’s walls, illuminating your footpath.

“What was your first time here like?” you asked over your shoulder, studying the mining scars etched into the walls for any sign of kyber.

“Loud,” he said, sighing. “I mean, just imagine a dozen teenagers running around a place like this. It’s a miracle we didn’t drive Master Skywalker insane.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the image he painted. He, Tai, Hennix, and to your surprise, Voe came to mind, a decade younger than they were now, squealing as their feet slid across the patches of ice. And Master Skywalker, futilely trying to reign them in.

“Maybe that’s why he wasn’t keen on coming back,” you said with a scoff.

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

A beat passed before you asked, “How long did it take you to find your crystal?”

Another sigh. “I’ll tell you once you find yours.”

Where you had hoped his answer would provide you with some comfort, you were only left with doubt. What if you couldn’t find one today? Or tomorrow? Or at all?

“Of course you will,” you muttered, watching your position on the holomap as it gently pulsed, showing that you were approaching the end of the tunnel.

The cave ahead was larger than you’d expected. With a ceiling that blended with the hanging darkness, you would’ve thought you’d stumbled upon a rune crafted by ancient men. But the crags and formations embedded in the walls proved otherwise. Water trickled freely down the jagged mineral, echoing throughout the room and filling the space with a fresh fragrance—rather than that of stale air.

Veins of opaque, white crystal ran through the stone walls, and for a moment, you wondered if this was it. There was only one way to find out.

Carefully, you approached a thread, setting the holomap down on a patch of ice. With trembling hands, you peeled a glove off and brushed the surface. The cavern immediately siphoned the warmth from your fingers, turning them numb before you could determine if the ore was made of kyber.

Finally, you conceded. “I don’t feel anything,” you grumbled, working your hand back into the glove.

Ben came to stand behind you, chest pressed flush against your back as his hands slid down your hips. “That’s okay. It’s just quartzite ore.” His breath fanned over your ear. “You’re not the first person to mistake it for kyber, and you won’t be the last, either.”

You spun around, still locked in his embrace. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He smiled. “We’ve been looking for all of twenty minutes. Don’t give up yet, princess.”

Despite everything—the weight of the unknown, the frost forming within your lungs, the lingering doubts you held about leaving the protection of the Academy—you found yourself savoring this moment. Deep in the heart of Ilum’s caves, wrapped in Ben Solo’s arms, you were content.

The vision of Coruscant appeared in your mind. Of you and him on the balcony overlooking the crowded hyperlanes of the planet home to so much life that it had become life itself. A place where anyone could blend in. Or disappear.

You blinked, wiping away the dream. “What if I never find one?”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “I’d say that’s pretty unlikely. The Empire took what they could, but that doesn’t mean that they were thorough.”

“No. I mean…” You dropped your gaze, holding his hands on your waist. “What if we left now? Before I find a crystal, and before you undergo the Jedi Trials.”

At that, his face fell. “This is your fear talking. You’re not thinking rationally.”

“No, just… listen to me.” You guided yours and his hands over your heart, acutely aware of its relentless pace. “Is this our destiny? To steal moments under the cover of darkness? Away from the eyes of the galaxy?”

Ben was silent for a long moment, his honey eyes searching yours, full of conflict. “What if it is?”

Your breaths mingled, dancing to the tune of your heartbeats. His words told a different story than his heart—the heart you shared.

“I know you don’t believe that,” you said, running a thumb over his rosy cheeks. “So, what’s stopping you?”

He untangled himself from your grasp, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced the room. “I can’t just leave. The galaxy is on the brink of another war—the same war my family dedicated their lives to ending. I’ve spent the last thirteen years working to become a Jedi Knight, to protect the people of the galaxy from conflicts like this.” He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose, shaking his head lightly. “I’ve come too close to throw it all away now.”

He was right. The galaxy was in jeopardy, its future dependent on the New Republic’s ability to snuff out a fire before it became an inferno. War was likely, and when it came, you both needed to be there to serve the light. To serve justice.

You realized then just how polarized the two of you were. Ben, the son of a Skywalker, burdened with the weight of a legacy imposed upon him from birth. Hailing from a family that ensured he would follow the Jedi path, just as his uncle and grandfather had.

And you, the daughter of a traitor. With no one left to turn to. Whose family legacy was that of deceit and treason.

It was unfair to ask this of him; you knew that. But in the same breath, you couldn’t imagine continuing to live like this.

Before you could apologize, Ben’s hands seized your face, his lips crashing against yours. His kiss felt like a flame breathing oxygen, burning hot and powerful, rendering you senseless.

“But I can’t lose you, either,” he said, resting his forehead on yours. “You are the stars in my sky. Without you, I’d be lost in the dark.”

Your heart skipped at his confession, and yet, words eluded you. The three you’d long wanted to give voice to felt too constrictive. What you shared with him went beyond anything under the definition of love alone. It was so much more than that—a connection that tied you to one another. The Force itself granted you this insight when it bridged your minds, creating the bond you shared. To call it love would be a disservice.

“Then come with me,” you whispered, pulling away to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be today. Just someday. Tomorrow holds endless possibilities for us.”

He pursed his lips as he let out a long breath, leaving you in agonizing suspense as he prepared his answer. “Okay.”

Elated, you reached to cup his face, eager to return the kiss he’d given you moments ago. Except his hands stopped you before you could.

“But only after you’ve finished your training,” he added, hands gliding down your arms. “And when the galaxy doesn’t need our help.”

It was a fair compromise to make—no different from you asking him to leave his life behind. Most of all, it was a compromise you could live with.

“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I promise.” He breathed the words rather than whispered them, stoking the fire in your chest. Before you could, he closed the distance and kissed you again, more gently this time—perhaps than ever before. It was the manifestation of his word, and yours in return.

When he eventually pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered, burning through your very soul. A vortex threatened to consume you, chipping away at your rationality, seeking to swallow you whole. But now was not the time. In this moment, you knew what you needed to do, and even if it required the strength of all the stars in the galaxy, you would do it.

You cleared your throat as you reached for the holomap, forcing yourself to be interested in anything other than tearing Ben’s clothes off. “It looks like this path here branches out into three smaller ones.” Using the dial on the base of the map, you magnified the projected image, looking to Ben for reassurance. “We’ll follow it through.”

He nodded. “Lead the way, captain.”

The two of you continued down the cavern’s narrow and winding passages for hours, only stopping when an unexpected gleam of light caught your eye. Out of the twelve times you’d hoped to find kyber, eight were quartzite, with the other four being shards of scrap metal left behind from the Empire’s demolitions. Each disappointment chipped away at your morale, feeding into your belief that you were unworthy of being a Jedi.

Ben must have recognized this as he suggested stopping for a break, digging through his pack for an energy ration. You came to stand beside him, dragging your feet across the ground as if they had turned into blocks of ice.

“Here,” he said, offering you the ration he’d fished out. “You need to eat. This will tie you over until we can get back to the ship.”

“At this rate, that could be days from now.” Your fingers had lost all dexterity as you tried to unwrap the ration, mouth beginning to water at the thought of food. ��I just want to go home.”

As you took the first bite, your vision turned white, but only for a fraction of a second. It startled you, causing you to drop the chocolate-coated ration onto the icy floor.

“Hey! Careful with the Endorian cocoa. That stuff’s hard to come by nowadays,” Ben said as a deafening shriek pierced the silence of the caverns.

You twisted your neck, trying to identify where it originated, heart hammering against your ribs as you lifted a trembling finger to your lips.

Ben grabbed the crook of your arm, turning you to face him. “What are you doing?” His tone was stern, seemingly unfazed by the cry that still echoed through the caves.

You wrested your arm free, lowering your voice to below than a whisper. “Are you deaf? That noise—the scream. We’re not alone.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” His dark eyes were wide, suspicious. “And we are alone. If we weren’t, the holomap would pick up their heat signatures, too.”

You lowered your eyes to the map, finding only yours and Ben’s forms in shades of red and yellow. But before you could consider any logical explanations for the sound, another cry rang through the tunnel, this time coming from the unexplored end of the path. Shrouded in darkness, the path beckoned you, drawing you closer like a magnet. The voice was deep and distorted, yet familiar. You closed off your other senses, focusing only on the voice as it came to clarity. Someone—or something—was calling for you.

“Come to me…” it said, nearly clear enough to be mistaken for another person in the room. “My love.”

Your breath hitched and tears welled in your eyes, rolling down your cold cheeks and onto the exposed fur of your jacket. It was a voice you wouldn’t soon forget.

“M-mom?” you asked, like a child searching for comfort in the night.

Ben stiffened at the word. “Princess, there’s no one else here.” From the volume of his voice, you could tell he was wary. He must have thought you were in a hallucinatory state, and truthfully, you couldn’t blame him.

“I know, but I can hear her calling for me,” you said, voice cracking as you stepped towards her voice. “I have to follow it.”

“No, you don’t.” He reached for you again, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe you caught something in the infirmary or–”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, pulling away. “I just… feel like this is something I need to do.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Ben insisted, trailing behind you. “I promised Master Skywalker that I would keep you safe, and I can’t do that if we’re separated.”

You ignored him, turning on your heels and reaching into the Force to guide you in the right direction.

Beyond the shadows was another frost-lined chamber, and as you entered, the world around you fell silent. No voices, no footsteps, no ambient drops of water. Only the sound of your breath.

Your boots squeaked on the icy ground as you shifted your weight, glancing back to find Ben. To your surprise—and horror—you found yourself entirely alone. Not only that, but the chamber itself had become something unrecognizable, with no exits and cramped walls.

Panic swelled in your chest and as it did, the ice beneath you gave way, plunging you into dark, freezing water.

You were numb in an instant. Struggling against the weight of your clothes and the fear consuming you, you tried to swim, limbs heavy as bricks as you willed them to move. Unable to process what had happened, your thoughts were overtaken by instinct.

Slowly, you pushed forward, following the only source of light spilling through the black water. With no end in sight, you wondered if you would even make it, lungs growing tight, burning more with each passing second.

The light was pure, preternaturally so, blinding you as you swam into its glow. You resisted the urge to draw a breath, knowing that doing so would only seal your fate. You couldn’t die like this, not now. Not after the promises you’d made in these caves.

As the light engulfed you, you thought of Ben. Where was he? Could he sense that you were on the verge of sinking into oblivion? Would he mourn you when he realized?

With that last question, you used what was left of your energy to call to the Force, pleading for its aid. It wasn’t long before its familiar warmth came to you, an invisible hand grabbing yours and guiding you to the surface.

As you approached the rippling plane of water, you could hear your name being called, dampened by the roar of blood rushing in your ears. It came again, louder this time, synchronous with your hand breaking through the water.

Cool air kissed your skin, welcoming you back to life. You thrashed at the surface, coughing up the water you’d taken in when you fell, nearly heaving from the force of it. As you opened your burning eyes, you found that the hand holding yours wasn’t invisible at all, but tangible, as real as your own.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” your mother said, lips unmoving as her words permeated the air. “You’re safe now.”

She looked ethereal, a backdrop of white light painting her like a vision of an angel. For a moment, you were sure that you’d arrived in the afterlife, reunited with your mother at long last. It wasn’t until her hand slipped away and yours hit the hard stone floor you realized you weren’t.

The brilliant light vanished along with her presence, leaving you blanketed in darkness. Desperate to escape the freezing water, you clawed at the jagged stone of the opening, mustering the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows. Your nails dug into your palms as you pushed yourself out of the water, crawling only a few inches before falling onto your back, muscles screaming. The layers of wet clothing clung to your skin, sending a violent chill through your bones, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was your breathing, the sweet sting of air filling your lungs.

The Force lingered around you as you lay there, fists slowly unfurling as the adrenaline waned. As your fingers relaxed, something rolled out of your palm, hitting the wet stone with a soft clink.

Your eyes shot open at the sound. Scrambling to sit up, you searched for the object in the dim light, but it didn’t take you long.

Beside you was a glowing crystal, pulsing with a heartbeat of its own and humming a soft melody attuned to your ears. You blinked in disbelief as you reached for it, tears blurring your vision.

A blue heart of kyber, calling to you.

#jedi: fall order fanfiction if you squint #I love these two idiots so much I can't to break their hearts #ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #ben solo x fem!reader #ben solo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars self insert #kylo ren smut #ben solo smut #my writing

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iron-strangers · 20 days

Note

What are your HCs about reader from Expanding Clan Mudhorn universe?

OMG my first ask!! Thank you for sending this, anon. Keep it coming, I love answering them

Anyways, this is how i picture reader a.k.a. Rid'ika from ECM

Rid'ika is Din's favorite nickname for his riduur, it literally means 'little wife' because everyone used to call her 'Alor's little wife' for a while after they got married.

Rid'ika then proceed to punch them all in the face.

Rid'ika has known Grogu since they both lived in the temple.

Rid'ika was raised in the Jedi Temple during the Clone Wars. She was a jedi healer padawan. Her master smuggled her out when order sixty-six happened, she was then found by Fenn Rau and adopted into his clan.

Rid'ika was trained by another jedi during the rebels era. Her second master knighted her with his dying word.

Rid'ika's beskar'gam color is red with black streak, for justice and honoring her parents, both Fenn'buir and her dead masters. The Mudhorn is painted in Din's silver color on her right pauldron, the left one has Jedi Order insigna painted in red.

Her lightsaber still has the original kyber she ran away with. It was blue then, but she touched the dark side once, resulting the kyber to changed into purple.

Rid'ika still has PTSD whenever she's surrounded by fire and she hasn't been to Coruscant again since she got away.

Rid'ika's ship is called The Defender, yes, so does her son. No, the ship actually came first.

Rid'ika is banned in thirteen (13) Inner Rim systems, including Alderaan (thankfully the planet exploded, so it's just 12 now)

Greef Karga sent Din a copy of Rid'ika's old bounty puck for his Space Christmas present.

Overall, Rid'ika is a menace and I hope you all love her too 🩷

#expanding clan mudhorn #jess answer #cw: ptsd #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction

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kalevalakryze · 4 months

Text

Yhe'na Det Och'sa

Chapter Four: Oneh Marukki

Summary: The crystal is the heart of the blade.The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.The Force is the blade of the heart.All are intwined: the crystal, the blade, and the Jedi. We are one. Ahsoka Tano wished none of her experiences on anyone, but the galaxy was only growing more dangerous. The Empire is closing in, and there's only so many ways she can teach Shin to defend themselves. Now, three years after Shin joins the Fulcrum crew, it's time to teach her to create her own saber. If she can get past her Gathering on a hostile planet, crawling with Imperial mining operations. AO3 Link: Here! Word Count: 7,708 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Notes: Don't forget all the art posted in this AU to this point is all thanks to the wonderful and amazing @somewillwin !

The morning of her gathering, Ahsoka had sat Shin down and laid out every detail over breakfast, much to Huyang’s chagrin, “The Empire has its clutches on this planet… are you sure your crystal is down there?”

Swallowing around a mouthful of sugary cereal, Shin nodded their head quickly. “Yeah, I’m sure.. It’s down there,” Ahsoka cast a worried gaze back to the war table, red dots speckled across the hologram, marking Imperial ships in the atmosphere, and several troop movements on the surface.

“Once you’re in the planet’s core, I can’t help you,” Ahsoka warned, treading carefully; She didn’t want to scare Shin, but she also needed them to understand the dangers they would be heading into. Imperial starships surrounded the planets atmosphere, with transport ships moving to and from the surface, delivering materials and transporting troopers and miners back down.

“Approaching Vessel, hold position,” A deadpan voice rang over the speakers in the T-6’s cockpit. Huyang’s chair creaked as he moved to strengthen their cloaking signal. “The Ilum system has been blockaded, you are not permitted travel.”

“This is three-three-seven-six, detachment eighty four of the Imperial Asteroid mining crew, we’ve been tasked with sector seven cresh below the surface of Ilum. Please advise with further instruction.” Ahsoka answered carefully into the communicator, passing along small echoes of a force suggestion through the weakened link.

There was silence on the other end, and a small hand reached forward to take Ahsoka’s into their own, as a Star Destroyer slowly shifted in its place, further opening the gap that would give them room to pass. “Detachment eighty four, you are cleared to land on the surface. Report to your supervisory detail upon departure and detail your lack of efficiency in sending your codes immediately.”

“Yes sir,” The comms went silent as Ahsoka donned her hood and pushed the shuttle forward, thrusters catching as they entered the first wave of the planet’s gravitational pull.

“Well that was certainly lucky!” Huyang exclaimed rather loudly in the heavy silence of the ship as the frozen planets surface came into view, snow pelting the transparisteel as they descended.

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” The Togruta answered, suddenly solemn as she watched the planet. The Force, normally brimming with power, potential… greatness, and love was void of it all, like the Kyber was being removed from the planets core. But what for? Ahsoka could not even begin to fathom why the Imperials would need Kyber, they’d killed the Jedi, and many of the inquisitors relied on the Kyber of those they’d killed to bleed and wield against the people that the crystal had once been in service to protect.

“Meht?” Shin questioned as she slid from the seat behind Huyang. Blue eyes brightened minimally when they turned to the brunette with white markings painted on their face, offering the love and compassion, the tether they knew Ahsoka needed so badly in this moment. The Togruta gathered up the small human into her arms, tucking them close into her lap as they approached a secluding landing pad. “Will you be okay?” Shin questioned, forehead pressing against the soft leathery feeling of her lek. “Yes, I’ll be alright, tazi unt. Thank you,” Warm lips pressed to the corner of a marking on their head. “Now let’s get you bundled up so you don’t freeze out there.”

Huyang set the ship down and worked on deploying their cloaking systems to work on the ground as Ahsoka helped Shin into the bundles of different layers to keep them warm, pulling a wool cap over their head to finish the job. “Meht, I can’t move,” Shin’s voice was muffled from all the layers, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but chuckle warmly at the sight of the lanky child in puffed up layers.

“Alright, alright here,” Enough layers were removed so the child could move properly, much to Ahsoka’s chagrin. “Do you remember what we’ve been practicing with the Force? How to keep yourself warm?” “Of course,” Their head nodded as a beaming smile tugged at lips, already chapped from the cool air making it past the filters.

Ahsoka turned away from Shin by the door to double check the small leather bag she’d prepared the night before. “This should contain enough supplies to give you a few days if anything is to happen. We’ll need radio silence across comms and the Force, I can’t be certain that they won’t have radar running to pick up on comm signals, and… I’d rather not think of them having personnel that could sense the Force, either.

“Yes, Master,” Shin took the provided satchel, tucking it carefully against their chest and using hooks in their outermost jacket to stop it from swinging wildly. “It’ll be just like we practiced, I’m sure of it,” She tried to ease some of Ahsoka’s anxieties as she secured a cortosis lined blade into a small holster along the inside of their calf. “Do not get too headstrong, Daaark grut. Impatience for victory will only show you how quickly the tides can turn to defeat,” Her fingers brushed over the warm cap on their head. “Be safe out there, and trust in the Force, little one.” Ahsoka moved so she could kneel before her youngling, taking their hands in her own as she retrieved her shoto from beneath her robes. “And don’t forget, I will be needing this back,” Homage to their first meeting, when she’d promised a sickly child that their salvation was far from some cruel trick.

Small arms wrapped around her middle as Shin threw themselves at her, earning a warm laugh and a warmer hug in return for their efforts. “I will, Meht,” They grumbled into her stomach as she patted their head.

“Lady Tano, we will need to move continuously to avoid Imperial Scanners, there are readings of Probe droids keeping near constant surveillance.” Huyang butted in from the cockpit, yellowed eyes focused on Master and Apprentice before him.

“Thank you, Huyang. Any parting words?” She tucked Shin up under her arm and turned them both to face the suddenly apprehensive professor.

“Come back safe, young Tano,” His eyes flickered in dim light, a feeling of somber recognition flooding his circuits.

“I will, Huyang, thank you- You two stay together,” Then, quieter. “Someone needs to look after ‘soka till I get back,” This seemed to lift the old droids spirits as Ahsoka laughed and led them towards the lowering ramp.

“Go on, get,” A gentle shove to their shoulder had the chuckling pre-teen shuffling down the ramp and into the cold.

Shin was no stranger to sneaking around Imperial troops, except this time, there was something to lose. It had been years now, with Ahsoka and Huyang at their back, offering unending support and wisdom; She couldn’t let them down, this was their first operation alone, and if they were caught, there was always a sinking chance that the Empire could trace her back to the Fulcrum crew, especially with the paint carefully etched into their skin.

She could hear the chatter just up ahead, a fire crackling and snow melted around the camp. The snowflakes didn’t fall as heavy here, so the young Initiate had to take longer strides to walk carefully in the footprints made by white plastoid covered troopers.

“Did you hear they��re bringing more miners in?” A trooper began, vocoder crackling and old, despite the fact that Shin had noticed a transport full of newer armor being sent to the surface.

“It’s none of your concern, clone. The nearby officer spat. Even Shin winced in empathic anger at the way the soldier was addressed by his superior, though the trooper simply sighed and returned to the metal tin of caf he’d been warming over the fires.

Shin’s boot stumbled in a patch of hardened snow, sinking them further than they were meant to go and causing a stumble. The brunette froze, just on the outskirts of the camp. The trooper was quick to pick up on the stumble, and yet, as a black, empty visor faced her, Shin did not feel the void Ahsoka had described the ‘clones’ as taking on towards the end of the war; They’d felt the warmth individual history of a man who’d once donned armor in brilliant teals and greens.

Their eyes met through the helmet, though his hands did not itch towards his blaster once. “Commander, I’m going to begin my patrol early, just in case there’s any Rebels lurking about,” The trooper stood on aching joints; It was clear he was much older than his comrades, bundled inside of their tents on breaks.

Their head jerked towards Shin, urging them onwards as he began his patrol, boots crunching in the snow and effectively covering their blunder as they scurrifed throught the blssedly empty cavern entrance.

Pausing at the entrance, Shin’s head turned back. “May the force be with you,” They spoke into the silence, a sentiment that they had yet to understand the full extent of, but had seen psased beyond the Rebel leaders so often, it had become a second-nature to them.

Progress was painfully slow as they slunk into the ruined caverns.. There were no maps for the labyrinth of icy tunnels, infested with Imperials that should have never been able to lay eyes on the ancient planet’s resource, much less mine it by the ton.

Sticking to the shadows and following the pulsing thrum of the Force, Shin had done their best to avoid as many Imperial patrols as possible, though, as they crawled from a small access tunnel carved away for PIT droids, Shin found herself in a dangerous positon. Three troopers surrounded a water well in a near triangle, each seemng to be staring down separate crystalline corridors.

“Ever think you’d get stuck guarding water?” A stormtrooper complained. “There’s no one here,”

“Quiet down, TK-Eight-Two-Four.” Another snapped, clearly an overheated hotshot, the leader of this poorly assembled squad. “These rebels are sneaky, if you are too confident, you could find yourself-” The force pushed against the hotshot, making it seem as if he’d stumbled in his uppity stupor.

The other two stormtroopers were quick enough to stop what would have been a fatal stumble into the well below, and in the commotion, Shin was able to slink back, warmed by the cackling laughter from the trooper that had been snapped at.

The cold seeped through their coat, though they found themselves adjusting rather quickly to the darkness that greeted them in untouched passages and enormous caverns. Their beath came out in misty puffs, dissipating in the air shortly after passing parched lips. “I can feel you,” The young apprentice whispered into the darkness, boots crunching to the stop in a cavern.

The floor should have been unsteady, but with a few test taps, the child decided it was safe enough to walk further, to follow the siren song of the crystal that had been hers since its formation.

A hum thrummed deep in the cavern, almost as if the world, the Force around her was breathing in beat with her own hammering lungs. The preteen lowered to their knees slowly- “You want me to go down there?” She whispered to the unresponsive world around her. There was a moments hesitation as Shin reached for the ground, feeling the sudden tension in the force like shockwaves up the length of each arm.

Her gloves were removed and stowed in the pack quickly, allowing the cold to bite at pale fingers and color the pink as she felt for the thread of connection that was attempting to reach out to her. “Show yourself… it’s alright… I won’t hurt you.” The youngling promised carefully.

The closer their fingers got to the thick casing of ice below them, the closer her crystal death, the louder the tepid waters below roared, and the more intense her heart seemed to soar… so close!

The brush of her fingers against the ice sent her spiralling, though, noticeably; Shin was not greeted by the frozen water below. Instead, they were… stuck. Thousands of images slipped through her fingers, like a holovid sped up faster than any living creature could comprehend.

Sorting through the distorted images of the thousands that had come before her, their voices muddled together in the echos of the force, voices that she could hear in Ahsoka's stories, to names she'd never spoken. "Your journey will not be free of trials and tribulations, little Tano," When they looked into the ice again, she could make out the shadows of a face.

A Kedlorian with a breathing apparatus secured to his face. He seemed kind and familiar in a way Shin could not know. "But it is the will of the force that finds you here today, like it was the Force's will that your Mother found you on Ibaar." They bristled under the word choice, cheeks heating and making white paint stand out starkly on their face.

A ripple in the force distorted the image. It felt... wrong. Like someone who had passed only in spirit, and was clinging onto the remains of physical life wrong. Still, the distorted presence beamed in it's hallowed glory, putting the youngling somewhat at ease. "You've gotta keep Snips safe for me, alright? Tell her she was right about me."

But Shin could not focus on this long dead Jedi's words, the sound of splintering ice tried to shove her back into her own body once more, and from the view of someone not there, Shin could see herself from their eyes, and watched, unable to move, as deep cracks began to spiderweb across the floor.

The Imperial drills were boring down on the planet, and the old Knight's presence seemed to destabalize whatever Light remained in the section. They found themselves back in their own body in a flash, in the same wrong words of this Jedi Knight. “Ahsoka, I would never let anyone hurt you… ever.”

In the last look they could gleam of the ice before it shattered, she saw yellowed eyes and burnt skin. When the ground broke, it was to the sound of deep, mechanical breathing and the sound of Ahsoka's voice, drenched in pain. "Anakin... I won't leave you... Not this time."

“Then you will die.”

The water was cold as it enveloped Shin, shocking their small body as they struggled to find the surface, watching as dim lights grew darker the further they sank. The roar of water in their ears was drowned out by the sounds of the force, things they had no hopes of understanding. "I am the Sith!" "I am No Jedi. "Somehow, Palpatine survived. "You won't help?" "It seems the Padawan needs one more lesson." “The order is gone. The Dark Side Is About Survival. "I can help you..." Impatience for victory will guarantee defeat."

Their fingers brushed the surface of the water, yet they did not emerge in the caves. Instead, they felt themselves standing planetside, long grass tickling heavy metal armor bracketing her knees. Her body felt too big, the armor weighed too much, and there was a nagging darkness in their mind. "We've been looking for this." She heard herself say, voice raspy like she'd been without water for days. The weight of a ball settled in her palm, though her body moved without consent to hand it off to a spindely droid built for combat as a woman with purple hair approached apprehensively.

"What happened to you?" They voiced, golden eyes squinting as a green saber was ignited against them. Fear filled Shin's veins as a saber ignited in her own hand, scarlett light casting across the battlefield. Shock and horror ignited in her opponents eyes, but before they could focus, or.. Find out why… what, the scene changed.

"I'm sorry," Wrong Shin whispered as the blade sunk into the soft skin of the womans' stomach, spires of their saber stopping just at the singed flesh that the red... orange? beam of plasma was tearing into.

The image shifted again, this time, filling them with adrenaline. Bodies dropped smoothly with each swing of her blade, red plasma tearing through flesh as she took lives without a second thought. Behind them, they could hear heavy footsteps, could feel encouragement through a bond that felt wrong to the child's head. "Please!" A woman begged. With difficulty, Shin could feel their hand clenching tight around the air, the Force bent to their will, choking the life from the woman as she begged and writhed, hot tears streaking down her face until she was no more.

It shifted once more, this time, to Ahsoka standing in front of them. This one, Shin thought, hurt most of all. "Surrender your weapon." She called to them, reaching across a chasm that felt too big. “Meht, what is going on?” She begged to ask, though her vocal chords would not respond as pain, anger, disappointment, and embarrassment burned their way up her throat, causing her lip to quiver and eyes to swing. How could it be like this, when just this morning, the child had sunk into their mother's arms with safety and love? How could Ahsoka look at her with pain and trepidation, regret and hope for someone better? What was she to become?

A killer. Plain and simple. Her destiny was not to save others, like Ahsoka had. She was birthed onto this planet to further the story, to make the heroes rise. She was doomed for failure, but... she could be greater. All she had to do was give in... All she had to do was take the power that was being offered. They would never have to ask for help if they just-

A change in the narrative, the feeling of soft hands stroking against unfamiliarly scarred knuckles. Colorful starbirds and painted armor, whispers in Mando'a, the love of a mother. Leia's laughter that came when Shin asked questions the Princess found amusing. The promise of the Keldorian, Ahsoka's soft ‘tazi unt’ when she thought Shin wasn't listening. The feel of someone's forehead pressing against their own. The wet nose of an animal in her hand, seeking love and attention. "I've got to save you..." A boy called to a man, wrapped in the shell of a monster. "You already have..." The man behind the mask rasped, a man unredeemable by nature, but still found the light in the unstoppable nature of love.

The surface of water broke. Wet fingers scrambled at the snowy expanse of solid ground. Several sets of hands tugged and pulled at her, helping her from the murky depths, grabbing at her arms and helping to haul a sopping, weighted down body into a soft pile of snow on the bank. When they had finally blinked water from their eyes, there was no one around, no footsteps in the snow, and surprisingly, even the drag of their feet to the pile seemed to be gone.

From the corner of her eyes, a twinkle caught her vision, blue and shining, calling for her like meeting an old friend. Huyang had told her what to expect, when she found her crystal. The feeling of coming home wrapping around her, even as cold settled into her bones. The kyber was warm, even through her glove, as she carefully broke it from its icy spire. "It's you," She whispered to the object, teeth chattering as she tucked it close to her heart, just next to where Ahsoka's shoto sat concealed in the depths of the puffed jacket. The aged kyber sung out to Shin's as the cool metal touched the jagged kyber. It was warm and safe, free of harm from the Imperials. She could not save the rest of the kyber, and, with a rumble of the cavern around them, it was clear that they were not meant to.

"I'm sorry," She called to the crystals that would not be found by Jedi. Crystals whose owners were already gone, trapped in the depths of the Dark, or those who had taken their place among the waves of the cosmic force all too soon. When the child turned from them, a shiver ran up her spine, one last message. The sound of a… laser activating in something huge, the sounds of rock and tectonic plates being torn to shreds. “I’m sorry… It’s just me,” They called, refusing to look back; they couldn’t look back, not when they felt the yellowed eyes of the monster staring into her back.

The ramp was covered in snow and ice upon their return. Worn boots scrambled against the slippery surfaces as they struggled to the promise of warmth. A warm blue crystal kept their exhausted legs moving, heated even through the thick, damp gloves that were only useful for keeping the wind from cutting into near frost-bitten fingers.

Their shoulder hit the durasteel door before the hydraulics could engage, creating a loud thump that echoed through the ship and their own body. When it finally opened, snow and cold air drifted into the warm and inviting space within. Home.

“ ‘did it,” The brunette remarked, proudly, extending their gloved hand towards the wide-eyed Togruta that was rising from her seat.

“Shin, oh my makers-” Orange arms wrapped tight around them before the ground could catch them, Shin couldn’t help the way they selfishly sank further into the embrace as Ahsoka pulled them into the ship and let the door slam shut.

“I did it,” They repeated proudly as Ahsoka carried them to the benches, only motioning at Huyang as he emerged from his workshop.

“You did, tazi unt, I’m so proud of you,” Warm fingers danced down their face, warming the frozen streaks of paint where they cracked against small cheeks. “So proud… But why are you wet?”

“Think I’m just cold, went swimming a few days ago, when I got it,” They replied sleepily, snuggling back into the blanket that hung onto the back of the couch, still warm from where Ahsoka had been using it to stave off the chill from her own shoulders. When silver eyes opened to meet lively blue, she couldn’t tell if the shock on her mother’s face was one of amusement, horror, or that they’d impressed her, with the way facial markings furrowed and dark lips parted until the artificial lights caught the white flash of fangs.

“Gotal’ade,” She remarked instead, shaking her head as she worked to help Shin change into clothes that weren’t melting icicles into the fabric she’d put down to make the seats more comfortable. By the time Huyang returned, Ahsoka had Shin where they belonged, tucked safely up under her arm, dozing quietly as they turned the blue tinted kyber around in fingers that still shook from the cold.

“Little Tano,” He greeted as two steaming bowls were placed in front of his sentient charges. Yellow lighted eyes dropped to the crystal in their hand, causing his head to turn. “You’ve found it.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” The Padawan snipped, shifting their weight on the bench so they were sitting on their knees to lean over the table and busy themselves with warm food.

Two sets of eyes watched Shin increadously, one, with white facial markings arched high, and the other slowly turning to look at the girl’s Master. For a droid who could not express emotion, the smugness that radiated off of him was almost enough to have the Togruta breaking out into laughter.

“You know,” Huyang started as spoons scraped at the bottoms of bowls and his sentients were beginning to relax into the almost calm atmosphere. “When a Master accepts an Initiate as their Padawan…” He tried to steer the conversation, though received only identical blank stares from both women. “The Master will braid their Padawan’s hair, or form their silka beads, or, in cases, will help design the marking of Padawanship…”

“Oh..” Ahsoka blinked, cheeks turning a deeper shade of orange in mild embarrassment. “My Master never… Well… We were in an active warzone.” She realized out loud, scratching her chin idly in thought, markings furrowed deeply as she tried to think back to the old memories on Christophis. “I think it was Master Plo and Master Ti who’d helped me, back then…”

Before she knew it, Ahsoka was sitting on the floor with Shin tucked between her legs and Huyang supervising the unsteady twist and turn of dark hair in her fingers. “Makers, why is hair so-” She huffed in frustration as Shin’s fingers tapped idly along her knee. “How do humans do this,” She complained as a small band snapped and smacked into her finger, falling uselessly to Shin’s shoulder.

“Do you want help?” Huyang teased, snapping metal fingers closed uselessly. Shin’s shoulders shook, though from lingering cold or laughter, she could not tell.

“I got it,” The older woman grumbled, voice reverberating low in her chest as she squinted at the tufts of smooth hair in her fingers.

“It hurts a human’s head, when you pull,” Padmé instructed, hand resting gently on Ahsoka’s hands, halting the rough movements of a wired up Padawan. “You must be gentle,” She reminded, thumb brushing over young knuckles, scarred from war.

“I don’t-” The teenager huffed as she looked back to the mop of dark curls on her Master’s head. “Okay.. Yeah… I can do ‘gentle.’” Padmé’s warm laughter filled the apartment as Anakin winced back from another harsh tug.

“Hey! Easy, snips! I’m not a ball of yarn!”

“Well, you’re tangled like one, skyguy,”

Huffing, Anakin shook his head like a wet tooka, forcibly removing explorative hands from his hair. “Here, let’s do Padmé’s. My head deserves a break,”

Padmé’s hair had been softer, smoother, straighter, and under Anakin’s careful instruction, a long braid was woven under careful fingers. All the while, the young senator relaxed back into the Padawan, offering quiet tips and praise, or guiding her away when she almost tugged too hard.

Blinking, Ahsoka stared down at the thin braid that rested in her fingers. The fabric of her pants was bunched up in a small fist, and even Huyang was watching her with a bewilderment that couldn’t fit their situation. “Did you feel that?” Shin whispered, though a wheeze in their chest shook Ahsoka from the shocked stupor.

Releasing the braid and shaking away the weight of ghostly hands against clammy skin, Ahsoka reached to tug Shin back into her chest. “You’re burning up, Tazi unt,” She grumbled, lips pressing into a warm forehead. “We need to get you in bed,”

“But I gotta build my saber!” They argued, holding the glowing kyber to the lights to prove their point. “You promised!”

“Shin,” Ahsoka sighed softly, fingers brushing through their hair gently. “You will build your lightsaber, that I can promise, but I need you healthy, you won’t want to put off training once it’s made, and you need rest. Even a Jedi Master wouldn’t be able to accomplish what you just did without some rest.”

The child in her arms pouted as she rose to her feet, though Ahsoka knew she’d won when they sunk into her arms, grumbling quietly in disdain. The logic was sound, and they knew they wanted to be at their best for their first lesson.

“Huyang, can you grab a hydration tablet and the Polybiotic from the kit?” Ahsoka tossed over her shoulder as she ducked past the rising door of the small bunk room they’d cleared away for Shin.

“Really?” They huffed as Ahsoka folded to tuck them into the blankets, propping pillows up under them as Huyang’s heavy feet clattered around the ship, finding the requested materials.

“Yes, really, Shin. You’re going to get sick from this, and I’d rather not have to rush you back to Kaeden hurt when we can prevent it,” She scolded, taking the supplies from Huyang the moment he’d returned. “Thank you,” Her head dipped to the professor as he passed the small container for the thick syrupy medicine over, holding it steady as Ahsoka filled it.

“It tastes like Bantha pee,”

“Now, how do you know what that tastes like?” A facial marking rose teasingly as the young Padawan’s hand smacked against her arm lightly. “Come on, bottoms up,” The cup was held to reluctant lips, earning a steely glare from her stubborn human. “Tazi Unt, it’ll be over in half a second, I promise. Come on,” She coaxed, frowning at the stubborn turn of their head. “Huyang…”

“On it,” The dancient droid clattered off again, though Shin’s head didn’t turn away from their fixed position in pouting at the wall.

The glass of water he’d brought back had tiny particles floating in it, though the crushed sleep inducer went unnoticed by the youngling. “Here, you can drink some of this once you swallow it, and get the taste out faster, alright?”

Another huff, shoulders sagging in defeat as they finally turned back to the older woman sitting across from her. Tiny hands took the offered cup reluctantly, and with one deep breath, the thick liquid was thrown back. Before they could even swallow, Shin was reaching for the glass in Huyang’s hands, swallowing the medicine before all bug chugging the clear liquid as fast as possible. “Easy, ad’ika!” A large hand moved to rub at their back as they sputtered.

“Can we never do that again? Thanks,” They rasped, shoulders sagging back as the glass was taken from their hands. Ahsoka chuckled warmly, dismissing Huyang with a warm smile and a nod of her head.

“Meht?” The vulnerability was back, voice small as the half dose of sleep inducer began working through their already overtired system. “Will you stay with me..?” Even on their return trip, they’d avoided sleep, unsure if slumber would bring back the haze of memories and possibilities that they had yet to properly process… But Ahsoka would keep them safe from wrong Shin, and wrong Jedi Knight, she was sure of it.

“Of course, scooch over,” With some finagling, Shin managed to find space with the cool durasteel wall at their back, and the ever-present furnace of Ahsoka tucked up under their cheek. A small hand brushed against the soft leather of her Lek as Shin turned to press closer to her, fingers cold against warm skin. “Get some rest, du tunguma.”

It took so long for the cold to pass. The days that followed Shin’s return was full of tissues, fever, and a stubbornness that Ahsoka knew had driven her own Master wild, back in the day. They hadn’t been a fan of waiting, now that they had kyber safely in their own hands, never once allowing the crystal to leave their sight.

“Have you been studying the different designs?” Ahsoka questioned on the fifth day. Shin was sat at the table, brows scrunched, paint freshly applied, and silver eyes focused intently on their datapad. Coming around the bench, Ahsoka’s fingers reached to press against their forehead and cheeks, thankful that they felt normal for a human.

When Ahsoka attempted to lean around them to peer at the drawn out schematics, Shin was quick to shut off the screen. “Meht! It’s a surprise!” They scolded, cheeks puffed out as they pushed half-heartedly at Ahsoka’s arm as she came to sit beside them.

Laughing, Ahsoka scooted over to offer them the privacy they needed. “Alright alright! I get it!” Then, dramatically puffing out her own lips, Ahsoka sighed heavily. “You got a crystal and now you don’t need me anymore-“

“You’re being dramatic,” Shin pointed out with a smile. Ahsoka dropped the act when she felt the toe of a soft boot poking against her leg. “I’ll always need you,”

Laughing, Ahsoka reached under the table to bat their foot away from kicking at her. “Sure, sure,”

“Just because you’re my master now…” The Padawan paused, suddenly worrying at their lip. “Well, that doesn’t mean…?”

“Hey hey, don’t think like that,” Ahsoka sobered immediately, reaching across the table to grab their much smaller hand as it picked at the case on their datapad. “I will always be your mother. You’re stuck with me, little hunter,”

Shin relaxed under the touch, turning Ahsoka’s hand in both of hers, soft thumbs pressing into the hardened skin from the years of lightsaber use.

Before they could say anything, Huyang emerged from his workshop for the first time that day. “Padawan Tano,” Her head snapped to the side, beaming up at the ancient professor. “I believe I’ve gathered everything we need. Have you drafted your design?”

“Mhm!” The brunette jumped up from the bench, gathering the datapad up in their arm as they all but ran the short distance. “We’ll be back, no peeking, meht!”

“Of course, wouldn’t dream of it, tunguma!”

“Did you grab the handgrip Senator Organa gave me?” Shin questioned as soon as the doors slid shut, peering at the workbenches that had been granted the light of day for the first time since Shin was brought on board.

“I have, along with a lens assembly and the power cell from Lady Tano,” Huyang stepped around Shin, arms extending from his back and rifling through the thousands of different containers. “Have you brought the emitter from the temple?”

“The temple..?” Brows furrowed, Shin allowed themselves to lean on one of his tool boxes. “Oh! It’s in the- hang on!” The Padawan scurried from the workspace, only offering Ahsoka a smile and a half wave before rushing off to the cockpit.

Ahsoka should have been more concerned by the child rushing to the cockpit, and the sound of panels being moved and the ship’s wiring harnesses being moved, though… the crossword puzzle she’d been picking away at was just getting interesting, and Huyang could handle a hyper padawan for five minutes, right?

When Shin scurried back through, their hands were bunched around something wrapped in the outermost layer of their tunic, clutching it close to their chest to stop Ahsoka from seeing.

“Got it!” They whisper-yelled as the door slid shut behind them. The pieces they’d been gathering over the course of the last standard cycle were laid out on the workbench.

“Excellent. And your Kyber?”

“Right here!” A small chain rattled as they pulled the necklace that the crystal had been hanging on during their cold, unwilling to part with it even in sleep.

The crystal was handed over and carefully removed. “Do you remember what we’ve spoken about?”

“The crystal is the heart of the blade!” They beamed; the mantra had been taught over and over again, although Ahsoka had calmly redirected away from the Jedi, whether from the loss of her people, or the type of war they found themselves in, she’d been been as… intense as the Jedi Huyang may have respected before the Fall.

“Do you recall the old saying? For the Jedi?”

It took a moment for the young Padawan to wrack their brain for the response, chewing on their bottom lip in thought. “The Jedi are the crystal of the Force…? But, Huyang…”

“At the root of it all, young one, the Jedi are the heart of the Force… Your master sees this differently, and I can understand, but the Force will always remember them, they continue on in the cosmic Force of the universe around us, always. The crystal, the blade, the Jedi. You are becoming one,”

“Ahsoka is adamant on not being a Jedi,” Shin pointed out, nervously twisting the chain that held their kyber around their fingers.

“She fails to see how true she has become. The Order was not what it once was when she was part of it, and… events had occurred that we can’t take back. But she will move forward, as will you.”

“I’m gonna help her.” Shin declared as Huyang pulled out a stool for them to climb onto. “With everything both of you have taught me, she is a Jedi.”

The voice box nestled in Huyang’s chest sparked almost warmly as he moved to arrange the pieces. “You’ll do what you must, after all, it is in your lineage…”

Shin Tano was far from a stranger when it came to meditation. While Ahsoka had trouble relaxing fully into the embrace of the Force, Shin could sink into the cosmic power and truly understand. They could feel each piece of their saber as they connected to them in the force.

The hum of the handgrip that had been made by Alderaanian engineers, the mix of metals and rubbers that made the grip soft and sturdy, the white coating around it that would mold to her grip, over time.

The emitter matrix that they’d collected while exploring an old Agricorps center, and the spires they’d plucked for the sole purpose of levelling out the weight of the hilt, ensuring it would be perfect for their preferred saber technique.

Ahsoka had given them a power cell months prior to their gathering, tasking the young Initiate with fixing the cell themselves so it could one day power their own saber. Shin could recall warmly, as they felt the buzz of power inside the charged piece, that they’d completed the task by weeks end, and had only overloaded the circuits once.

The lens assembly had also been a gift from Ahsoka, one that she’d seemed almost attached to. The metal was scuffed and damaged, as if they’d been pulled from a warzone. When Shin’s connection washed over the piece, it came with the ringing of klaxons, the vacuum of a ship being ripped from the sky, and the shouting of identical voices, none of which the youngling could differentiate from the other noise trapped in the silver alloy.

“Don’t forget your activator and the power cell release cap,” Huyang’s voice filtered through their focus, reminding them of the parts they’d chosen from his vast array of lightsaber pieces. They’d been created decades ago, picked apart from battlefields and molded into something new, and now, as Shin’s hand raised towards each piece and rose them from the table, they would find their purpose once again in a new generation of Jedi lightsabers.

Each piece fit together exactly as they’d dreamed, different materials fused together under the fine tuning of the Padawan’s command, twisting and turning under the twitch of small fingers until they clicked just right.

They were unaware of how much time had passed when they found themselves back in their own body, hand dropping to the workbench with a new weight in it. The saber was heavy, strong, and perfectly balanced. “Huyang,” They called quietly, lips parted in awe as they turned on the stool. The droid, never too far away when a youngling had the chance to blow a hole in the ships hull, turning his head quickly.

“Is it what you imagined?” He questioned as they slid off the stool, stumbling under the tingling sensation of legs that had fallen asleep.

“It is…” Silver eyes darkened as they turned the saber in their hands… this was the same saber from the visions… was it a future she was fated to? It couldn’t be, as long as she had Ahsoka, she would write her own destiny. “It’s perfect,” They decided, fingers flexing around the sturdy grip as she beamed up at him.

“Would you like to ignite it now?”

“Nuh-uh, we gotta go show mom,”

When the door slid open, they found Ahsoka resting peacefully at the table, knees tucked together under a warm blanket as she repaired a blaster hole in one of her favorite ponchos. “Meht!” Shin called excitedly as they ran to her, all but leaping over the open back of the bench to put themselves in the spot beside her, Saber much more carefully placed on the table once they’d settled. “I did it!”

Blinking, Ahsoka took half a second to safely stow the needle and thread before turning to look first at Shin, and then the saber. “Oh!” Startled, Ahsoka peered at the weapon’s design. “Tell me about it?” Shin scrambled off the bench, taking their sber with them as Huyang came to perch on Ahsoka’s other side.

“So, the hilt was made on Alderaan, Bail helped me; It’s supposed to be for a speeder’s handlebars, and I asked about it last time, so he had one made! It’s so cool, and it’s really soft but also like- not,” They rambled, fingers dancing over the cool material as they explained it. “Huyang helped me with a few pieces too, besides the ones you gave me! It was kind of hard to find the perfect balance for Makashi, but with these-” They pressed the spires over the emitters into the soft pads of their fingers. “They balance it out perfectly!”

“Where is your activation switch?” Ahsoka questioned, peering at the metal disks that seemed wielded into the metal, unable to be moved, the Togruta couldn’t fathom how they would ignite their saber in a rush.

“Well… The Force, really, I haven’t tested it yet, but it should work… Is that okay?”

“Of course, of course! Tazi Unt, it is amazing! I’ve just never seen such a design.”

“Well…” Twwisting the weapon in their hands as nervousness prickled at their skin, Shin found themselves flexing their fingers into familiar material. “Huyang said that the force would…”

Ahsoka cuts them off with a warm smile. “It’s perfect, Shin. When I was a youngling, I redesigned my first saber hundreds of times in my head before my gathering. But when I made these-" The Togruta rose to her feet to gesture to the slim, chrome alloyed sabers on her hips. "They were something I'd only just felt in my dreams. I allowed the force to design the saber that would fit me, just as you've done now. And I'm so proud of you..."

Anxiety turned to bashfullness as Shin’s fingertip slid along the smooth metal of the round disc that cradled their emitter. Silence hung in the air, not entirely uncomfortable, but filling with the trepidation of actually igniting the saber.

"Have you turned it on yet?"

Shin looks terrified, but Ahsoka offers a lopsided smile. "Nothing bad will happen, promise. If Huyang has already cleared your power supply-" She wasn't too keen on the thought of cleaning up the remains of an exploded hilt, and while Huyang had found humor in it back in the day, she had to hope he would never do that to them.

"Go on," She urges as Shin steps further back away from the table and steadies the hilt in her hands. Icy blue light flickers to light in a twitch of power that makes them lean back from the beam of plasma burning through the ozone around her.

There's a mixture of amazement in her eyes, along with the childish disappointment at the color of the cylinders the plasma was pushed through. "Were you expecting something else" Ahsoka asks, mirth dancing in her tone as she steps behind her padawan and rests a hand on their shoulder.

Shin's saber lowers as silver eyes flicker down to the sabers on Ahsoka's hips. Their lips twitch slightly and shoulders shrug under her hand. "I thought it would be..."

"Let’s hope your kyber never has to suffer the same way mine has, Padawan... You do not need to experience the suffering it takes to turn into this," Though there is a warmth in her tone, that Shin would look up to her so much that they’d expected their own crystal to produce a blinding white blade was endearing. She’d just have to hope that the human would never be expected to face the blood stained brothers of the Kyber that resided in her own sabers.

With a nudge of the force, the saber sank back into the hilt, the smell of burning plasma was cycled out from the filterers kicking on not a moment too soon. “So… How long was I in there, really? Huyang covered the chrono,” The young girl complained as she set her saber back on the table and clambered onto the bench of peer at Ahsoka’s needlework, taking over both her seat and blanket as the woman moved to brew a pot of tea.

“Certainly more than a few hours. How do you feel?” Ahsoka questioned as she rifled through cabinets for a wrapped package of leaves that Cody had once gifted her in celebration. They were old, though the packaging promised that the age would only enhance the flavors of the leaves.

“Excited, really,” They decided as they picked up the needle and continued the stitchwork along the hole for Ahsoka. The thread was only slightly sloppier than Ahsoka’s, though they were getting better each time. “Kinda tired, but mostly excited.”

“It was approximately five hours and thirty nine minutes,” Huyang chimed in as he retrieved his own datapad from a compartment on his back. “Considering you did not add an activation switch, it’s remarkable that you did not take longer.”

“So… I exceeded expectations?” A self-assured smirk pulled at their lips as they pulled their saber from the corner of the table, slipping their finger through the chrome ring on the pommel to attach it to the belt on their waist. It would take time for them to get used to how much heavier it was compared to Ahsoka’s shoto, but they couldn’t wait to begin properly training.

“Of course, tazi unt,” Ahsoka laughed warmly as she prepared the third stoop of the leaves, filling duracrete mugs with the golden ichor of perfectly aged leaves. “Here, try this one, as a treat. My grandmaster would always bring it out for celebrations,”

The tea was warm and rich, it tasted like drinking the happiness of a day spent in the sun on Alderaan; Shin could understand why Ahsoka’s grandmaster would have brought it out, with what they knew. Something light when they were surrounded in the inky darkness that came with war. Silver eyes peered up at her mother, watching how tense shoulders relaxed and she seemed to find a peace in the taste as well.

She would help Ahsoka become a Jedi again, just like she was doing for them. Shin was certain of it.

#Shin Tano AU #Star Wars #Ahsoka Tano #Shin Hati #Huyang #Ilum #Lightsabers #The Force #Force Visions #somewillwin

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tennessoui · 11 months

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Hey Kit,

the Twitter deaddoveobikin posted their newest prompt and no joke, my first thought was that you would love them. 😁

lol you are like the third person to send this to me and you all are right, i would love this but who knows if i'll have time so kit fic speed run:

day one - oh definitely the angel to demon!anakin and priest obi-wan idea i just posted; feels very classic priest/temptation of them both, especially because once anakin is a demon, obi-wan is consciously letting himself be seduced by a creature of sin....he's just so weak when it comes to anakin (pairs well with this priest obi-wan au ficlet. wrote last year)

day two - ok hmm both obi-wan and anakin are angels but anakin begins to fall in love with a human, padmé. obi-wan cannot let his heavenly brother sin in such a way because then he would be cast out and obi-wan cannot lose him, so he researches a strict and sexy routine to help banish anakin's impure thoughts through self-punishment and strict focus on his angelic duties which really is in practice basically angelic bdsm especially when obi-wan decides anakin isn't taking the self-flagellation seriously enough so takes over for him. anakin definitely stops thinking about the woman on earth that's for sure

day three - good omens au 100% next question. one of the twins is the antichrist, but neither demon obi-wan or angel anakin can figure out which one is which, so the only solution is to raise them both together in the same house for observational purposes. they probably should have sprung for two beds, but they weren't really thinking about that!

day four - ok so religious rituals hm feels like.....they both lose their kyber crystals at the same time some time in the clone wars so have to go to Ilum to get two more....but this time the trials they face/the tricks the caves throw at them are different this time around. both of them have vivid fantasies of the other one seducing/fucking them on the cave floor and they have to shake it off to continue forward and get their crystal.....both manage the first time to throw the hallucination off.....the second time is much harder to shake because it's not actually a hallucination at all and they've just actually run into each other in the caves and decide to indulge in the fantasy....with their very real partner (their new kybers are white, you know, like--- )

day five - you know what i could see gffa, never found by the jedi!anakin becoming a cult leader entirely by accident because he's so powerful and magnetic in the Force that people bend to his will easily and become followers....he takes over tatooine from jabba and the hutts, and obi-wan is sent as a jedi on a mission to determine the Skywalker's threat level to the galaxy, the Republic, and the Jedi Order itself because this man is teaching people about the Force, but it's wrong and twisted.....obi-wan writes back that he has never met a more dangerous soul...obi-wan also quickly finds himself in the young man's bed as his wife to be

day six - lol it's giving me like. 5 times the team accidentally fuck nasty in a place considered holy/sacred by the locals of the planet, and 1 time they're asked to fuck on an altar in a ritual to decide if a planet joins the Republic or the Separatists

day seven - on the seventh day, she rested 😌

#asks #this is me throwing words on a page and not really thinking about them im sorry if some of this doesnt make sense #obikin #also it took me ages to find that priest obi-wan ficlet #that was buried!!!!

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walkawaytall · 4 months

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Hi, I found out like six months ago that the Death Star's beam of destruction was powered by kyber crystals, and just this week, it occurred to me that that could maybe make Leia's relationship with lightsabers in general a little complicated, at least for a little while, and I have known no peace since.

#star wars #leia organa

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livingemkayde · 11 months

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Twin Moons - Chapter Five: The Silence

Series Summary:

when you meet a Mandalorian on the sands of Tatooine, for some reason you both can't stay away. even through all the pain—you keep coming back to each other. it's all you know how to do.

Chapter Five: The Silence

Notes: Someone please tell me how this chapter is almost six thousand fucking words long. I got so carried away. If you guys like longer chapters, let me know but I think I'm going to start making them longer anyways. Notes are HIGHLY appreciated. As always, please enjoy.

Side note: Idk if you guys picked up on this, but the reader has very light pupils, almost completely white eyes aside from some shading in irises–it is touched on more in this chapter.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive f!reader

Series warnings: *Although this chapter may not contain graphic content, this story is rated 18+ due to graphic depictions of violence and sexual scenarios.*

Chapter warnings: Mentions of the empire, the dark side, and the force, angst. Brief mentions of abuse and Stockholm syndrome. Mutual pining and very strong feelings from the reader. Mando having a potty mouth. Hints at sexual scenes/thoughts. Jealousy and reader’s self hatred.

Summary: He’s officially going to drive you crazy. The Mandalorian in front of you is going to drive you insane. He might kill you. You could die by a thousand touches and suggestive words with hidden meanings.

Masterlist Chapter Four Chapter Three

One.

You work with Grogu more the following afternoon. When you exit the Mandalorians hut after nap time has begun, you look for him on the small porch but instead see his shining head across the way with Omera.

You scowl to yourself, and quickly brush it off as you make your way over. Your eyes feel slightly puffy from the tears shed through the night. You had not gotten much sleep. Winta’s innocent words crept into the back of your mind each time you closed your eyes. She questioned her people’s safety from you. A child, not unlike the one you were working with—asking if you would ever hurt her. The thought feels like it stabs your heart.

You’re sad. Honestly. Like really fucking sad. About everything. About leaving him and his kid in a couple days. About Davin. About Omera. About everything. It burns through your chest with a certain bite that leaves you feeling empty. You don’t know why. Or why you’re scared to approach them. Or why you feel such a strong connection to a man you just met.

“Hey, uh—” you say as you approach the pair. Omera laughs at something the Mandalorian says and her hand brushes his bicep again. At your entrance, her hand drops and the couple goes silent. “Sorry I hope I'm not interrupting. Grogu is down for a nap. Just wanted to let you know.”

You exit quickly, only hearing a small ‘thank you’ from the Mandalorian as you walk away towards the woods.

The Mandalorians gaze sears into the back of your head as you exit.

You continue exploring through the small pathway—ducking under some branches and slipping through bushes to a clearing. In the middle, a large tree with a wide trunk. You circle the tree a few times before looking down towards the ground. The sunlight is shining on the top of your head. You can feel the heat of it warming your hair.

While you look to the ground, absentmindedly counting your steps and noting the small flowers there, you pick up a fallen branch, long and sturdy enough to be a weapon, maybe a staff—a spear.

You hold the branch in your hands. Test the weight of it in your palms and twirl it through your hands and around your body. Maybe in another life it could’ve been kyber.

You begin hitting the tree, simulating some form of combat. You were restless after so much time on this boring planet. It was the most time you had ever spent in one place in years.

As you spin to hit the trunk higher, much like smashing the head of an opponent, you hear a twig snap behind you. You suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“Mandalorian.” You huff while continuing your silly practice, not looking back to meet his gaze. You shouldn’t be mad at him. But you are, unexplainably.

Din notices you are elegant with your strikes. You move in a way he has never seen before, much less experienced in combat. Even in the cantina, you bested him with your quick skills and surprising strength.

You hear him walk toward you, but for some reason, your body fails to turn.

“Saki.”

You turn at the nickname, it feels foreign on his lips.

You are slightly breathless, from the combat practice or your name echoing through modulation, you do not know. His voice trails through the small clearing and it makes your ears ring.

“What are you doing?” He asks when you don't respond.

“I'm bored. This place is…boring. I don't want to take care of kids all day and farm krill.” You smack the branch against the tree trunk once more. You remember last night, Omera, Winta and her words that cut your skin like daggers.

The branch snaps in half.

You toss the two halves to the ground and fully turn to face him. He's standing a couple feet away.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” You reply—passive-aggressive tones in your voice. Last night hurt. Seeing him with Omera hurt. The fact that he didn’t follow you hurt.

Not that he owes you anything. You were becoming attached to someone who was obviously unavailable—it was all in your head.

But the way he listened to your stories, taking in all the information that makes you, you. You couldn’t help but fall, even if he wasn’t there to catch you. But that’s not his problem—it's yours.

A few moments pass, you note his hand twitching like he's contemplating his words carefully. The orange tips of his pointer and thumb scrape past each other in their wake.

“Alright. C’mon. Let's go.” He turns on his heels and begins to walk away from you.

“What? I–hey wait up.” You call after him as you follow his figure.

“Ready? On ‘go’ okay? Three–” you get into your stance, “–two–” you hold your palms out, ready to strike first, “–one–” you grab his wrist, twisting his arm and striking at the crease of his elbow.

You snake your ankle around his and pull your leg back, so he stumbles and kneels on the ground before you.

“I said on ‘go.’” He grunts while sliding to grab the back of your thigh and shoulder to flip you and bring you down to the ground. You slip out of the trap easily, scrambling to stand and begin to engage in hand to hand combat with him.

“I know. Just–” you strike the side of his stomach with your foot and he grunts “–making sure you were ready.”

You elbow his collar and he grunts again. “You weren't.” You chuckle quietly.

It's easy–fun even. Something to stimulate your brain. Something entertaining for you, he had said. You appreciate his efforts, he explains he used to spar with other Mandalorians when he was a child. You know he can understand your restlessness on this planet.

He showed you to a small field near the village and explained he and Grogu spent time out here when you weren’t preparing him. The grass in this area was soft. It was unlike the hard soil of the forest, and the dirt ridden roads near the huts.

His hands tangle with yours. You can feel him everywhere. Your hips, your waist, back, shoulders. You are using small amounts of strength—sparring strength, but you relish the feeling of his hands on your body.

“You're a cheater.” He grunts as you block his strike.

“Didn't know you cared much about rules.” You spin and switch positions with him, moving throughout the open field near the village, sun looking down on you.

You giggle through the innocent game—each time his move fails and he becomes more frustrated.

You go to kick his side again as he opens his stance to strike, but he predicts your movements, grabs you by the crease of your knee and hauls you to the ground. He straddles your hips with his thighs. Mimicking his actions when you first arrived at Sorgan.

You settle on the ground below him, looking up at the sky. You can see the trees peeking into your upside down vision. You fill your chest with air and release it slowly, savoring this moment. The sky is a shade of blue unfamiliar to your worn eyes. The Mandalorian sitting in the middle of the expanse, looking like a painting. He is art. His armor is beautiful. A true show of craftsmanship. You wonder who forged it for him.

“You like this position huh.” You tease with breathless laughter––having given up on the sparring.

“Maybe I do. You're prettier when you're not smashing plates on my head.”

Your eyes widen.

“What?” You ask.

“The cantina. Remember?” He notes.

“Yeah. I remember. What you said before that.”

“What, that I like this position? Don't get too cocky. I just like it when you can't hurt me.” He teases with a light tone.

“You called me pretty.” You say, meeting his eyes.

“Did I? Don't recall…do you yield?”

“Don't try to change the subject. You called me pretty.”

“I didn't.”

“You just did.”

“No. I didn't.”

“It's okay.” You can't help a smile that comes to your face. “If you think I'm pretty it's okay.”

“Why do you want me to think you're pretty?”

“I just want you to admit you said it.”

“So you want me to think you're pretty.”

“No, I just want you to admit that it happened.”

A few moments pass. You feel a sudden tension between you. Maybe you had taken your joking too far. You worry in this position, that he might actually hurt you. Your breaths become slightly erratic, but you try to steady them—bringing air in through your nose.

“Maybe it did.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “Happen.” He clarifies. “Then what?” He says softer this time. You can tell the playful intentions of this stupid conversation have gone.

You can’t bring yourself to respond. Is he calling you pretty? Or is he just admitting that it happened? The Mandalorian is running laps around your head and you feel dizzy from his incessant games you can’t bring yourself to stop playing. You think back to Omera. The way they stood together during dinner. His hands on her body. It was silly. If you really think about it. Silly that he would feel the same way when you’ve only known each other a few days—after you tried to kill him—after everything you’ve done.

But you feel like you have known him forever. And you would choose to—given the chance.

When you say nothing but look up towards the sky, his hand moves from resting on his thigh to your bicep. Your eyes shoot back to the black T in front of you. Your lips part and although your eyebrows haven’t unfurrowed, they soften slightly. All your features do.

He acts before you can speak. Trailing his hand down your arm, to your open palm on the ground. When he reaches your fingers, he turns your hand in his, and snakes his fingers through yours.

You watch the whole time, the feeling strange in your palms, your gloves abandoned in the hut with Grogu.

He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, the both of you staring at your joined limbs, silence surrounding you. Even though you are separated by his glove, you feel his warmth spread like fire throughout your body. He holds your hand with some strength, enough to make you feel secure without forcing your joints.

Although your mind should be racing—racing with thoughts about a certain beautiful widow, a sleeping green child, and the Mandalorian in front of you. You can only stare back, entranced by his actions.

You feel his other arm moving, his hand coming to rest on your hip bone, his thumb rubbing softly at the exposed flesh there. You close your eyes at the feeling.

“Look at me.” He says, you open your eyes.

Suddenly, the feeling has changed in the air between you.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

Even though you aren't sure what he means by this you nod your head anyways.

He runs his fingers higher up your stomach, gloved hand pushing back fabric as you shiver under his touch.

“I–” you start, but a small ring pulls you both out of your trance. The Mandalorian suddenly drops your hand, pushes himself off you and turns to look toward the sound.

The dinner bell.

Fuck.

Two.

When you finish with Grogu the following day, you decide to rest on the ground next to his pram. You’re tired from working with him. You should be practicing your meditation since you are reaching out to him through the force for long periods of time—but you don’t.

You settle on the ground next to his bassinet, back pressed against the side of the Mandalorians bed.

The preparations have been progressing, Grogu is doing well. You peer over your shoulder towards the sleeping child and sigh. He should be ready with one more session tomorrow. He has to be ready—you’re leaving.

The Mandalorian doesn’t inquire much about Grogu’s preparations anymore, you hope it’s a sign of trust, of good faith. But then again, he doesn’t have much choice.

When you finally begin to shut your eyes, your head slouching to the side, the curtains open and let in the sunset from outside. A tall figure stands as a shadow in the doorframe. The Mandalorian.

“Hi.” You say while opening your eyes slightly with a smile.

“Bedtime? For both of you?” He asks while chuckling slightly and walking into the room, letting the curtains shut behind him.

“Mhm.” You say lazily while squinting one eye and letting your head fall to the other side.

“Come on, rest on the bed.” He stands in front of you now, your eyes open at his request and you look up at him.

“No, no it's okay. I’ll just go back to my hut.” You say while standing slowly.

“C’mon, just stay here. You’re already falling asleep.” He pushes a fallen piece of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek bone. Your bruises had been healing slowly, but you still had some cuts on your face from Davin’s rings. You can feel the Mandalorians fingers tracing over the scabs on your cheek.

Your eyes widen—you want to cry. But you don’t fight him, or push him away.

When you stand motionless, while looking into his visor, he places his hands on your hips and begins to turn your body while leading you to the bed with gentle pushes on your lower back.

You abandon your plan of returning to your hut, but you’re so aware of his hands on your body, you no longer feel tired.

“Okay.” You say plainly, and settle on his bed on top of his blanket. You lay on your back, one hand resting on your stomach, the one closer to him laid flat on the bed.

He turns to leave you—maybe it’s your sudden boldness from yesterday in the field, or the lingering feeling of his hands on your waist, but you speak without thinking.

“Will you stay?” You ask, and he freezes in his stride. He pauses for a few seconds, you’re afraid he’ll reject you, or leave without saying anything. But he turns his head to the side, to indicate he heard you.

“You want me to tuck you in?” He turns, and you swear you can hear a smirk drift across his face. He stalks back towards your figure on his bed.

“You’d like that. I’m just bored.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Someone’s shiny head woke me up.”

He sits on the bed next to your body. His back is to you, but he turns his head so he can look down at your face. You scoot over some, to make room for his figure but he remains sitting on the side of the bed.

You close your eyes, satisfied with his presence, but you can feel him shifting beside you.

“Lay down.” You say softly, while opening your eyes to his visor, scooting over more to make room for his large figure.

He says nothing but swings his legs and begins to lay beside you. His bed is large, big enough that you can lay side by side without touching, a few inches of space between you.

“I don’t think I've ever seen you sleep.” You note while staring up at the ceiling.

“I don't much. Probably a habit from traveling so much.” He replies beside you.

“You should sleep more.”

“You should too.”

You chuckle.

You want to bring up the field, Omera, his touches, but you don’t—leaving it unsaid in the air between you.

“Can you tell me about your creed?”

Din freezes. He didn’t know people were interested in his creed besides when asking why he can’t take the helmet off.

“I knew a Mandalorian. But he showed his face.” You continue when he doesn’t respond. He notes how you inquire curiously, but never question his faith.

“The Mandalorians saved me from a droid attack on my home planet. I was a foundling. Raised in the fighting corps. The creed means I can never show my face to another living being. This is The Way.”

You stare at the ceiling, taking in all the information. You have never heard of this creed—even after studying with the jedi on Coruscant.

“No one? For your whole life?”

“This is The Way.” He repeats the strange words once again in response.

“Not even your kid?” You ask, referencing Grogu.

“He is a foundling. If I were to adopt him, or raise a child—I would be able to show my face to my family.”

“Family. Like….your wife?”

“If I were to take a wife I would be able to show her my face, yes.”

“Mm.” You note, without much to follow. You hesitate in your questioning—unsure of his comfort answering questions regarding his creed.

“Have you ever wanted to?”

“Wanted to do what? Show my face?” He asks.

You respond simply with a small “Yeah.”

You feel his helmet look toward you, and you can’t help but bring your head to meet his. Looking for his eyes behind the small visor in front of you. You feel his hand moving beside you, his pinky finger reaching out to brush against yours. It disappears just as quickly, and your breath hitches in your chest.

“Yes.”

He’s officially going to drive you crazy. The Mandalorian in front of you is going to drive you insane. He might kill you. You could die by a thousand touches and suggestive words with hidden meanings. You turn to look away from him, a blush creeping up your neck.

“How many planets have you been to?” You ask, trying to change the subject after your words fail you to continue the conversation.

“More than I can count.” He says with a sigh.

“What’s your favorite one?” You respond curiously.

“I don’t really have one.” He says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What’s yours?”

“I like it here. But I liked Endor too.”

“You like green.” He notes. And you nod, smiling.

“I don’t see many nice planets.” He continues. “I work bounties out of Nevarro.”

“Nevarro? I’ve been there.”

You remember the lava flats and molten ground you walked on. You blush when you realize the two of you might have crossed paths more than you know. Your head turns to him again.

“I can tell you that Tatooine is my least favorite one.” He says while meeting your gaze, you lock eyes. You smile at his words. The last time both of you were on Tatooine, you were about to kill him.

“I don’t like sand.” You note.

“I don’t either.” He says softly.

“Hurts my eyes.” You say while turning your head to look back at the ceiling. A few moments pass.

“You can ask.” You say while chuckling.

“What happened?” His helmet is still turned towards your face.

“Punishment from Davin. I was supposed to bring back someone alive–I came back with their head in my hands.” You close your eyes.

“He dropped me off on some planet that had toxic chemicals in the air. It bleached my pupils–that’s why they're white. Bright things hurt my eyes. And shiny things.” You say playfully, while elbowing his arm, trying to lighten the mood. You don’t think it worked when he remains looking at you, motionless.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“It’s not your fault.” You reply, although you aren’t sure if he’s apologizing for your punishment or his armor. You look back at him, the two of you gazing at each other.

You feel his arm moving beside you. He grabs your hand, intertwines your fingers, and lays them to rest between your bodies. His thumb rubs your hand again, mimicking his actions yesterday. You smile as you look down to your hands and back up to his visor. You find his eyes immediately–and even though you can’t see him, Din smiles back.

Din sees the gray of his beskar washing over your eyes once again. You’re beautiful. Funny, smart, witty. When your eyes meet his, he feels like maybe you match him perfectly. Maybe when he asks you to stay with him, you’ll listen. But then again, maybe he doesn’t belong with anyone. He definitely doesn’t belong here.

You wonder if you’re meeting his gaze beneath the mask. What his hair looks like. The color of his skin, the curve of his cheek. His eyebrows. Does he have facial hair? Is he even human under the helmet?

A breeze pushes the curtains back and some sunlight spears through the hut, hitting your eyes. It hurts, but you don’t move. You wonder what he thinks of your eyes, maybe if they were normal you could see him better. Maybe if they had color they would absorb his gray and not reflect it.

What color are his?

You don’t talk after that. You don’t think about Omera once.

You don’t know how long you stay frozen under his gaze—your eyes drift closed as the sun sets behind the curtains.

Three.

When you wake up in the Mandalorians hut, your eyes shift from sleepy and half shut to wide and alert. You lay next to him. Your form curled to his side while he lay on his back. He has one arm under your neck, his vambraces removed and set on the ground. One of your hands rest on his chest plate.

You stare at the side of his helmet, with wide eyes. His chest rises and falls gently with soft snores from under his helmet. Fuck.

You remember last night. Sinking into the mattress beside him. Rolling over in your sleep and knocking into his side, his arm lifting up and coming to wrap around your body. His thumb and the way it rubbed the small patch of skin peaking out from under the hem of your top. Kriff. This is bad. This is getting too complicated. His small Yes was seared into the back of your mind, and you can’t help but think he might’ve actually been talking about you.

You stare at the side of his helmet once more. He could be awake, you wonder. He could be holding you because he means it, or he could be sleeping and none the wiser to his actions. You close your eyes and your heart beats more erratically through your chest. You worry its pounding would be strong enough to wake him.

You need to leave.

You remove your hand from his chest plate and carefully sit up, trying not to move the bed too much. You slink out of his arms and out of the bed. The kid sleeps soundly in the pram at the head of it.

You step out of the hut and the morning dew hits your face. The sun is rising over the trees, you guess it's early in the morning. You note which direction your ship is for your travel out of the village later today.

You move towards the dining hut, your stomach growling from having skipped dinner after working with Grogu in the evening. Your cheeks flush as you remember the Mandalorians hands wrapping around your waist, touching your cheek.

You open the curtains to the dining area, your heart drops as you see a figure with their back turned towards the entrance, preparing some food for breakfast.

Omera.

“Oh. Hi.” You say dumbly.

“Saki. Hello.” She turns to greet you with a smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in. I skipped dinner last night.”

“It’s no problem. There’s some fruits and bread over here to hold you over until breakfast.” She points with the wooden spoon in her hand to the table across from her.

“Thank you.” You slink over to the table, trying not to meet her eye. When you steal a glance at her, she is looking back at you. Your cheeks heat and you quickly drop her gaze and place your attention to the food in front of you.

“How is Grogu doing?” She asks innocently. “He’s doing well. Progressing well. He won’t need me soon.” You reply, picking the best smelling fruits in front of you before you make your exit.

“That’s good to hear.” She replies plainly with a sharp smile on her face. “And Mando?” She adds.

“Um, good. They’re both good.” You reply—scared of her intentions regarding asking about the Mandalorian.

“You two have grown close these past few days.” She doesn’t meet your gaze.

“Yeah, the kid is special.”

“I wasn’t talking about the kid.” She stops mixing, her hands resting on the table in front of her, looking at you with knowing eyes and a small smile.

“What?” You almost drop the fruits in your hand.

“Mando.” She replies simply. Although you note how she doesn’t look mad, you can’t bring yourself to meet her eye. Suddenly, all the touches and words feel dirty in your mind. You saw them together. How they looked at each other—and yet, you didn’t stop him through all his actions. You chastise yourself. How could any of that be real when this woman stands beautiful in front of you?

“Omera. I—I'm sorry.” You don’t really know what else to say.

“For what?” She asks. First you think she’s being facetious—knowing she has bested you in this stupid game for his heart. But when you look to meet her eye, you spot genuine curiosity.

“F-for the Mandalorian. For…” When her eyebrows furrow and her head tilts to the side, your features shift to confusion. “—You guys are like…together right?”

“Me and Mando?” She asks with a small laugh. “I thought—”

But a sound breaks the two of you out of your strange gaze and shifts your bodies to turn towards the entrance of the hut. For some reason, you know who it is before your eyes dawn upon a black T and beskar.

“There you are. Hey—uh.” He shifts when he sees you talking to the widow before you.

Fuck.

He wasn’t even talking to you. You spend the night in his bed, his arms, his hut, next to his kid. And he’s not even looking at you.

Right.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive? You feel like everything is moving in slow motion, but yet, time flies by without you.

“The kids need you. They woke me up looking for you.” He's still talking to Omera.

“Oh. Okay. Give me one second.” She pulls the apron off her front, bundles it up and sets it on the table that separates the two of you.

When she moves past the Mandalorian towards the kids, they don’t share a glance. Weird. You note.

Silence enters the hut and the Mandalorian surprisingly doesn’t follow after her. You finish grabbing your fruits and a piece of bread and walk towards him. Hoping he will leave it at that and let you go back to your hut.

“You left early this morning.” He says and his voice tears you out of your train of thought.

“Yeah.” You reply dumbly.

“I was looking for you. Then the kids…they—” You cut him off.

“Yeah. It's okay.” You can’t help but feel lied to. Like he’s making up some lame excuse for when he came in here looking specifically for her. When tears spark at the back of your eyes and your throat suddenly feels tight, you fight his gaze and move to exit quickly. You won't let him see you cry.

“I’ll see you in a bit for Grogu.” You continue when he stands staring like a statue.

He says nothing after that.

You know you’re being childish. But you also know you will be off this planet by sundown.

This is all some stupid game he keeps playing with you. The teasing, the touches. It’s like he wants you in private but plays a role in some superficial life in public. He doesn’t fit in here. You don't fit in here. It's apparent enough. He can play pretend with the girl next door all he wants, but you both know the truth.

As you work with Gorgu, the Mandalorian doesn’t wait outside. He leaves when you arrive. It feels like a slap in the face—especially since you’re leaving tonight. Leaving Sorgan on bad terms makes your stomach twist. You’ll probably never see him again.

He made you feel worth something in those small fleeting moments in his hut or the field. Even if it might’ve left you less whole than when you arrived, more broken, more confused—he made you feel good.

Grogu and you have been growing close. At least that was something. You can see that he has a strong attachment to the Mandalorian and in the back of your head, you worry. After all this, Luke could reject him, but you doubt it. He’s desperate for a school and this kid looks too much like Yoda for him to say no.

You finalize your preparations, tell Gorgu that he needs to reach out to someone named Luke when the Mandalorian takes him to the seeing stone.

You sneak into your pack and pull out some fresh berries you snuck from the dining hut this morning with Omera. You offer them to him and he takes them with a smile. Seeing the kid happy makes your heart full. After all, this wasn’t some trip to get you laid, you truly believed he would bring balance to the force.

Grogu does a couple flips with berries still in his hands despite your protests, and on a particularly precarious looking tumble, you catch him in your hands. He looks up to you, babbling, and then proceeds to vomit all over the front of your shirt.

Great.

The Mandalorian comes in when you were trying to clean up Grogu’s mess.

“What happened?” He moves fast towards you to inspect your shirt, then down to the kid who is none the wiser.

“Nothing–I–sorry. I gave him some berries. He was like jumping and stuff and then he just…” you motion to the front of your shirt. The vomit had remained untouched since you were trying to clean the front of Grogu’s robes first.

“Take that off. Here.” He digs through the baskets near the walls and extends a faded black shirt to you. Your eyes widen.

“No. I’m just gonna go back and change. It’s fine.” You shake your head and step back slightly. Too much. Too complicated. Too domestic. But your hands want to reach out and accept the clothing. It probably smells like him. Your heart flutters at the thought.

“And what? Put your kit on? C’mon just change.”

Kriff. He was right.

“I–okay. Thanks.” You murmur under your breath and take the shirt from his hand.

He picks Grogu up and turns, letting you change. Considerate–you note–despite his wandering hands days prior.

His shirt falls over your frame and when you slide it over your head, his scent pushes through your nose. Woodsy. Gun powder. Something synthetic, maybe gun oil or armor polish. It flutters through you and makes your heart beat ten times faster.

“Okay.” You say when the shirt falls past your hips, hitting the middle of your thighs—you feel the hem as you roll it through your fingers. He turns at the indication you’re done changing.

He stares at you. You can feel his gaze. He holds Gorgu in his right arm, places him in his pram, and shuts the doors. He takes a step toward you, experimentally. When you don’t react, another. And then another.

“He’ll be done soon.” You snap out of your trance. You remember this morning. Omera. His excuses.

“What?”

“Grogu. He’s doing good. You can take him to the seeing stone soon.” You gesture towards the pram.

“He’ll be done soon.” He echoes your previous statement.

“Yes.” you whisper.

He tilts his head slowly, coming closer to you. You don’t even recall when he got so close.

“Is that what you want?” His hand hovers over your hip, but not touching you yet.

“I–I want what’s best for—” His actions cut your words. His hand gripping your waist tightly. He rubs your skin through his shirt tenderly and tugs on it a little.

“You want what’s best for who?” He prods. Teasing you. He massages you more, bringing you closer to him, his hand around your back, beginning to move slowly, dangerously, down your body.

“I–I w–want…” You stutter, but his hands barely brush over the curve of your ass and you lose your train of thought. Your hands move to his chestplate softly, your feeble attempts to stop this before you couldn’t anymore.

“C’mon. Tell me.”

You look up, unable to make words come out of your throat, settling for a quiet whimper that drives Din insane. He knows what he’s doing to you. It’s a game to him, you realize. Making you so flustered you can’t even string together a sentence. He knows his effect.

“You want me to stop?” He continues when you say nothing but whimper.

“N-no. I–”

“No? Then what? Keep going, use your words.” His tone cuts deep to your belly. He pushes his hand up your back and flanks your sides, his hand brushing against your breast, pushing over the swell of it, his thumb barely touching your nipple through his shirt. Maybe this is the part where the helmet comes off, and he’s beautiful, and you fall in love. But maybe this is also reality. And you can't bring yourself to indulge in someone you know you will never be able to let go of.

“I–I–fuck–I can’t.” You step back, silently whining from his hand’s release on your body. “I–” you try to explain. To say anything. But you malfunction like a droid. His touch is permanently burned into you. Silence passes between you as he steps back.

“You can’t.” He confirms—like he didn’t hear you right. His head hangs and then looks back at you. You take another step back. This is it—saying no to him, his advances—this settles it.

“I-I’m sorry.”

You leave the hut with tears streaming down your face. The silence deafening between you two for longer than you can count. You left the Mandalorian, giving him a half assed response, something about how you needed to get some rest. You don’t really remember much after his touch left your body. It hurts your heart, the thought that maybe he does want you. Maybe you’re worth something—but even more so that you have to leave.

You pack up quickly, the sun setting on the horizon. You have overstayed your welcome. Davin would be after you soon. You needed to go back to him before he got off world. You leave your hut and make way to your ship near town.

Settling in the finality of it, you look up to the pink sky.

You thought you weren’t going back to Davin, but after all this, there was nowhere else to go. You knew what was waiting for you on Coruscant and even though you weren’t sure if you were ready to face it, you knew hiding forever was not in your future.

Not again.

Chapter Six: The Stage

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an-s-sedai · 8 months

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Edit: I will not re-post this to the correct blog, this just lives here as a monument to my glee!

B5 s02e19 Divided Loyalties Table of Contents • previous episode

Delenn: "I find the notion of the press a…fascinating, but sometimes troubling concept."

I find the notion that the Minbari don't have press to be a fascinating but potentially troubling concept!

The machine that dispenses Universe Today but requires that you confirm your identity to get a paper is wild. Does it give different papers to different people?

Delenn: "It is good to know what your people are thinking and saying about my people. And, uh, I often learn things about my own world before I'm told what I need to know and no more."

She is so cute!! And so crafty!! I liked Delenn from The Gathering, but I like her more and more whenever she appears.

A flood on a space station seems like it could get really really bad, really really fast.

I once read a hilarious fanfic where some Star Wars characters traveled to B5 and bought a shitload of data crystals, which turned out to be kyber, and this reminded me of that.

When I was looking up what the episode was called, I saw that Lyta-from-the-Gathering would be coming back and I'm so excited for this! I hope she and Talia get along.

asddkhfsdkfh what was that little shimmy?? Cool alien, hilarious shoulder wiggles.

Sheridan: "oh, I miss trees…." Garibaldi, from Mars: "……" *yeah, so anyway changing the subject now*

Talia: It's hard to believe it's taken us so long to get to this point. Two years. Susan: Well, you didn't exactly make it easy. Talia: Me? how 'bout you? Susan: I'll have you know I've been nothing but compassionate and understanding. I mean, all you had to do was admit that you were wrong and I was right and everything would be fine!

LMAO.

Sleepover? Sleepover!!! GAY GIRLS GO

Susan: "I'd like the company."

Yeah I'd like her company, too. *eyebrow waggle*

Wow, Lyta had a rough arrival! Maybe she can sleep over with Susan and Talia, too. *eyebrow waggle*

Go Lyta Go. I support unhinged women wielding surgical tools.

Poor Lyta has spent years being distrusted and interrogated by psicorps for what she saw in Kosh's mind. I'd be pretty twitchy after that, too! Their tender loving care seems like it would be the exact oppposite.

She is even hotter than she was in the Gathering.

OK, love the exposition about the fucked up things psi corps can do with people's brains. Fucking terrifying. Implant a personality below their personality, that emerges and destroys the original when the right time comes around. Moles that don't know they're moles. Very uncool of PsiCorps.

Lyta is SO paranoid, but I suspect she isn't being paranoid enough. She's shockingly tolerant of being placed in secure holding. I don't think I'd agree to be literally imprisoned that readily. She hasn't done anything but come out of anesthesia swinging surgical tools after being imprisoned by PsiCorps for two years.

Delenn!!!

Sheridan: Why is it every time you finally get things calmed down and everything's going great life decides to kick you in the butt? Delenn: …but what?

That really got me and I lol'ed. Good use of idioms and miscommunication! Love it. She wasn't taught slang because it was considered innapropriate for a member of the religious caste.

Delenn: I butt, you butt, he or she butts… Sheridan: NO. No, it's… Delenn: Butt-butt. Sheridan: you sound like a motorboat. Delenn: Motor butt?

I continue to cackle. OK, I finally ship them. They reeled me in!

Hold her hand back you fucking monkey!!

The debates and counter-intelligence and fact checking is A+. Damn you JMS for making me like Garibaldi via the excellent Garibaldi-Sheridan interactions. :|

Sleepover date!! I am so excited. Susan knows how to woo a woman: with a real, hot-water shower. It would work on me.

More good exposition. Talia knew Lyta, she was six months behind Talia at the academy. She was nice, sweet. They were close at one time. *eyebrow waggle*

It speaks very well of Lyta that she hated her PsiCop internship and went commercial instead.

"So I've come to the decision that there's only one person on this station that I can trust implicitly…" *gets in Susan's personal space and stares at her lips* "…you." *almost touches Susan with bare fingers* me: *goes absolutely fucking feral*

Why tf is Lyta a prisoner?! I ask a-fucking-gain. This is ridiculous, and exposes her and her mission to the goddamn EarthCorps brown shirts!

Yeah, well obviously someone wanted to shoot at her when she was being transferred! This is why she should be having a gay-ass sleepover with Talia and Susan right now!

At least they don't think Lyta instigated the attack on herself. They're ass-backwards about this. She shows up with news of a secret, they imprison her where any security staff could find out, including the goddamn leak she was talking about, and then Sheridan is mad and shocked someone knew she was there with critical info. C'mon, dude.

Also Susan, <3, Sheridan is right about one thing, this isn't a scan to object to, it's just her projecting a code word to see if anyone reacts.

Talia: "I woke up last night and you were gone." Me: [beast shaking toy in mouth.jpeg]

O.o WHAT IS SUSAN LYING ABOUT. Is she telepathic???? It's my long-running headcanon about her! Please be telepathic, please be. If we get to find out that her mom used her telepathy to hide Susan's powers that would be EVERYTHING to me.

If only Na'Toth and Laurel were in this episode also being badasses it would be the greatest of all time.

c'mon telepathic Susan! C'mon!! omfg I'm almost vibrating.

"…and then, every once in awhile, I was the one who touched her mind."

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FUCK YES I AM WELL FED THIS EPISODE

"…I'm a latent telepath."

FUCKING WINNING

Now Sheridan just needs to not be an idiot about this. Obviously she hid it, who wants to be fucking gangpressed into PsiCorps?!

Good job, Sheridan. Minimal shittiness achieved. And I know I'm completely fucking feral about Susan/Talia but it's so perfect that Susan is so close to Sheridan that he's the first person she tells about her hidden talent.

Smart of Garibaldi to hand over his piece before being not-scanned. What a fucker tho, faking them out. hahah.

also please don't be the mole, Ivanova. I don't want anything bad to have happened to her, ever, but since plenty has, I don't want any more!!

After all these people have been cleared, I think Ivanova will probably just agree to being cleared. She will want to know. Maybe she would let Lyta tell Talia the password and let Talia password her?

I do like Sheridan's theory earlier talking to Garibaldi that the second in command who shot Garibaldi in the back was the mole.

Ahhhh Ivanova did change her mind. And she's clean!

Lyta: I'm sorry Susan: Go to hell.

That's my girl.

Oh man!! I didn't even think to suspect Talia! Fuuuuuuuck, and she's all telekinetic'ed up, too!! Oh, damn it. I don't like this at all.

or do I? There's plenty of whump to be had. hm.

You know what I really don't like, this boys-only confab. Ivanova is the second in command of the entirety of B5 and she's not present for the strategy meeting. Uncool.

Ahhhh it's all coming together for Garibaldi. Wow, they really have been seeding this plotline for the whole show!! Cool Hat Man Mind Empty No Thoughts Only Hat wasn't just fun filler!

The Talia that Susan knew definitely has to be in there! They haven't kissed yet! And I need that!!

Oh, this is chilling!! The angst! The whump!! Susan!!!

I think it would be really funny if the sub-personality didn't understand homosexuality and therefore has no idea real!Talia was in love with Susan and vice versa.

OK now I weirdly ship Lyta/Kosh.

"I never told them, I never told anyone. I hid it all away in the smallest, tiniest corner of my mind. They could have killed me and they still wouldn't have found it. Only at night, alone, would I open that small door in my mind where I kept the memory of you and listened to your voice. Listened to you sing me to sleep. I hope I can come back again, but I don't know. Until then, Kosh, I want to see you again. Just one more time before I go."

Lyta's a bonafide monsterfucker. What a great note to end this on!

My thoughts right now are: "Hnnnnnngggggshshshcsagfjkaldsf yes." Good episode! My favorite of the season so far! I can't wait to see how all this plays out!! I may make some gifs and do a gif-post of this ep later. So many good shots!

this next one is posted to the correct blog, hah.

#babylon 5 #lyta alexander #susan ivanova #talia winters #susan ivanova x talia winters #screaming crying throwing up #an episode of all time #plot plot plot plot #woodsfae b5

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 7 months

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It's Wednesday my dudes and I come bearing the gift/curse of writing. I know most of you don't go here, I'm sorry, COD has infected my brain and I can't get it out so FC5 is on the back burner for a little while (i'm still writing it, it's just my brain needs a break from the deranged army woman and the darker stuff I have going on in that canon for a bit) so have a taste of a little fic I'm working on set before the events of the call of duty: modern warfare (reboot) games.

tagging: @anonymousmalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @mccarthycormac @mxanigel @madparadoxum @jillvalentinesday @confidentandgood @afarcry5fromstraight @nightbloodbix @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @statichvm @neverthesameneveranother @sukoshimikan @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @poetikat @fangsandroses @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt

writing tag list here to be added/removed

October 13, 2017 09:37 - Special Reconnaissance Regiment Headquarters, Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire, United Kingdom

Rory sat in her cubicle, grey plastic walls surrounding her, free of any personal items. Scouring hours of footage shot during a scouting mission in thermal vision, taking note of timestamps and important location details for her report, she couldn’t help but taste the acrid pang of jealousy. It was the duty of her and the other SRR operators in the office to painstakingly comb through reports and footage, collecting intel. The nerve center for army intelligence. Keyboards clacked and phones rang as information was filtered and passed along to where it was needed.

"Sgt. Sinclair."

A deep voice broke the monotony around her, it was one that few ever heard unless the powers that be deemed it so. She’d only heard it once before when her transfer to the SRR was approved. Spinning in her seat at her desk, she rose to stand, her hand raised in a salute as she stood at attention. "Colonel Rourke, Sir?"

Rourke, a man with decades of experience as part of the British army, stood at her desk. Brusque and stern, he was a bulldog of a man trapped in an office space. He would have been more comfortable leading a fleet of tanks rather than an infantry of analysts. "At ease, soldier." She relaxed, hands held behind her back as he continued, "I don't make a habit of personal visits, but I've just left an important meeting and I need your attention for a moment, Sergeant."

"Of course, sir."

“Follow me.” Leading her away from the bullpen she was sitting at and towards a quiet corner, a potted plant was the only company there. Free from prying eyes and ears, he turned his back to the rest of the room, and lowered his voice. "There's a joint operation happening between the Americans and the SAS, and they require our assistance. However, they're looking for boots on the ground experience, and a fair portion of the SRR operators currently available for missions of this sort of nature just don’t have that. But you –"

She nodded, her face falling somewhat. She'd only transferred six months ago and was still settling in. The SRR HQ provided a different type of work than she was used to, but she appreciated the change of pace it gave her, utilizing a different portion of her skill set. It also meant she was closer to her father rather than being half a world away in the middle of a war zone – but a soldier could only be at peace for so long.

"I understand you were transferred here to clear the headspace, but I can’t think of anyone better suited. You have an impressive record, Sinclair. A real asset. You’ve a history with counter-terrorism, been in the thick of it, and I have a Station Chief with the CIA here who wishes to speak with you."

It wasn't a question or an offer. She had been selected. An honor bestowed upon her. There was no turning it down. Not that she would. Ambitious, career-oriented – she had no reason to say no. Walking past the cubicles of operators, it was a stark contrast to where she was less than a year ago. The ground no longer shook as bombs dropped overhead, bullets didn’t tear through the air or rip through kevlar, it was quiet here. Safe. She still played an important part in the war effort, but without the risk to life and limb. The blood no longer dripped from her hands, though that still didn’t make her clean.

The colonel stopped outside a large meeting room and opened the door for Rory, directing her inside with his hand. The room was empty except for one woman with a coffee and a laptop sitting at a long table. Dressed in business casual clothing, she looked prepared for a day at the office compared to the soldiers around her wearing their uniforms. Looking up, her face serious, she tilted her head in Rory's direction but spoke with the Colonel, "Is this her?"

"Yes, this is Sgt. Sinclair."

Like a child being spoken about between a parent and a teacher, she was recognized as being there, but not as part of the conversation. Things had been set in motion, all of which she had yet to be made privy to. Rory was no stranger to working on a need to know basis, moving up the ranks meant for much of her career she often merely had to follow in the direction she was being pointed. This was certainly no different.

"Good to meet you," the American said with a nod of her head. "I'm Kate Laswell." Holding her hand out to the open seat beside her, she directed Rory to it. "Take a seat."

Appearing sure in her steps, even while the stress took hold, she stopped at the table and took a seat, exhaling her breath finally as she settled into the chair, still trying to hold the proper decorum expected of a soldier.

"You can relax, Sinclair. It's just you and me." Laswell looked at the Colonel and the door quickly closed, leaving the two women to sit alone in the large, echoing, blank slate of a room. She sipped her coffee, her eyes shifting to the screen of her laptop before speaking again. "I assume the colonel didn't reveal much about what's going on here, did he?"

Shaking her head, the short choppy locks of her chestnut bob hovered around her neck. "No, not really. Just that you're looking for boots on the ground?"

"Not exactly. We have the boots, it's more so a certain expertise." Kate glanced over at the younger woman, her brow lifting. "Why's a soldier like you working behind the scenes?"

Rory stretched her neck from side to side, cracking her knuckles. A cigarette suddenly seemed like a very good idea to her. "It was suggested I take a transfer from the field after I completed my last tour.” Glancing over at Laswell, she noticed the woman had begun looking right at her, scrutinizing her. “I spent the last several years in Iraq during the civil war. Working with CIA, PMCs, whoever my unit was assigned with." Her eyes fell to her fingers as she started to pick at the hangnail on the edge of her thumb, the skin underneath as sore and raw as the memories.

"Off the books?"

She cleared her throat and returned Laswell’s eye contact. "Oftentimes, yeah."

Kate paused, her head tipping to the side. "Seen some things, huh?"

Rory tried to get a read on the woman, it was hard to get much from her face or her demeanor. There was empathy or at the very least some form of understanding. Was she a soldier in the past? Or just an overpowered cop like some of the other CIA agents she'd met? She scratched her brow, clenching her jaw. "Did some things too."

"Not afraid to get your hands dirty then." Laswell’s face never seemed to change, her mouth drawn in a straight line as she folded her hands on the table.

"I did what was asked of me."

"Like?" The station chief seemed genuinely interested in her, trying to get a beat on her all the same. Both of them were in the process of figuring out who they were about to get into bed with.

"Primarily I focused on targets of high importance to prevent further incursion from the insurgency. Assassinations, interrogations – been there, done that."

"Assassinations?" Kate's voice rose, her interest piqued.

"I”m SSC trained. Ran a fair few missions that left me in some nests in high towers."

"A sniper, huh?"

"Yeah. When needed."

Nodding, Laswell’s straight face seemed to break for just a brief moment into a nearly unnoticeable grin. "How many confirmed kills?"

"High importance targets? Thirty three. I lost count of the random sods," she said with a shrug.

Laswell sipped her coffee, unfazed, hearing news like that was just a walk in the park for this woman. "No stranger to deep recon then?"

"It's in the name,” Rory confirmed. “It's what the SRR does. It used to be part of the SAS, but broke off and focused on the intel part of things. It’s why I was specifically transferred here and not just put on leave. Command didn’t want to lose someone with my experience."

"You have some connections with intelligence?"

"I have friends at MI6."

"Good.” Laswell’s attention fell on her completely. “Well Sinclair, I have a friend who's running this op – he's SAS – and you sound like just what he's looking for. If you're up for it, of course."

Rory contemplated the decision for a moment, she hadn’t thought she’d be back out in the field quite so soon, and considering the fact that none of the details of the mission were being revealed to her until she agreed to come, she assumed she was heading into some real shit. Her hands slipped from the tabletop and into her lap, a tremor shaking through them out of sight, before she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great." Laswell shut her laptop and scooped it under her arm as she stood, collecting her coffee cup in her other hand. "Come with me."

Her brow lifted. "Just like that?" She was well accustomed to the bureaucracy and strict measures the British army seemed to enforce, things didn’t just happen, not without cutting several layers of red tape and after being passed through multiple hands first.

"Just like that."

She stood up and followed behind the Station Chief, keeping pace with her as they moved through the halls. Rory was in no position to argue, nor would she want to, it was nice not to be beholden to the rigidity of the chain of command. This was more cavalier. Very American.

"So, you straddle the line between spy and soldier, huh?" Kate asked, her eyes kept forward.

"Sort of like you, I assume?" Rory asked with a sideways glance, her lips curving into a half grin.

"Sort of." Kate huffed out a laugh. "Yeah."

They turned the corner and headed down the stairs, the reverberations of their shoes on concrete stairs bouncing off the walls. Once an RAF base, now the headquarters of the SRR and the 22 Special Air Service Regiment in the midlands, it was sprawling with large open fields. Out on the parade, a helo sat waiting, it’s rotor warmed up and the blades spinning. There was no time to grab her things, it was get up and go, the moment she said yes she was being tossed from the frying pan into the fire. The urgency was clear, she had likely already been transferred and meeting Laswell was simply a courtesy.

Ducking under the blades, the shadow of each one cutting across the sun as it broke through the dense cloud cover above, Laswell pulled open the door of the helicopter. “Head inside,” she said with a tip of her head towards the waiting entrance into the vehicle, raising her voice to be heard over the engine.

Rory climbed in and looked over at the row of seats, noticing another soldier sitting there, already strapped in. His face stern as he shifted, adjusting his hat, the overwhelming scent of cigar smoke drifting from him. Scratching at his cheek, his nails dragging through a thick fuzz of facial hair, he glanced over at her and then turned back to Laswell who took the seat across from him. "I assume this is the one, Kate."

"Yeah, John, this is her.” Laswell pulled on the front of her jacket as she sat back and got comfortable. “Sergeant Sinclair, meet Captain Price."

Rory's brow furrowed for a moment at the name. It was familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint how. Was it one she'd seen in a report? As she strapped into her seat, steely blue eyes measured her up before turning his attention to lighting the Villa Clara cigar he’d pulled from one of the pockets of his vest.

"Nice to meet you, Sergeant."

His voice was deep, rumbling, and it stirred something in her. She was no stranger to appreciating someone’s timbre, but this was something different. He seemed so familiar, she couldn’t place how, but she knew it. Intimately. And then the memory hit her – the bathroom stall. Five years prior, one night in a bar. The sheer chance of them meeting like this damn near improbable. Her stomach dropped. Jesus. His face was nearly recognizable beneath the facial hair that hadn't been there the first time they met. His voice had become more gruff, lower than she remembered. The cigar he was currently smoking gave a clear indication as to why. Swallowing down the embarrassment that threatened to burn at her cheeks as she looked at him, she gauged his reaction to her name - if he recognized her the way she suddenly did him, he didn't show it.

"Good to meet you too, sir," she said. Her gaze fell to her hands, remembering how it felt when he had held them. Trying her damnedest not to look at him, she preferred to appear nervous over the mission and not the man who had suddenly become her commanding officer.

Tugging at the tactical vest he wore, Price tilted his head back, puffing on his cigar and looking out the window as the helicopter began to move, the inside shaking as they lifted up off the ground.

There was no backing out now.

#wip wednesday #cod fanfiction #oc: rory sinclair #captain john price #kate laswell #fic: all along the watchtower

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skoulsons · 8 months

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im choosing ignorance for right now but will cover it at the end of this (this being a whole essay 💀)

So, it looks like Baylan has a green kyber crystal in his belt. This post and others have pointed it out

Obviously, this begs the question of whom did it belong to? Immediately the thought would be Baylan’s. He was a padawan of the Jedi Order, trained into knighthood, and eventually a general during the Clone Wars. He created his own lightsaber hilt and (maybe, idrk exactly how it works forgive me) chose his own crystal. And, even if he didn’t, it was still a part of who he was for that portion of his early life.

We learned last episode he misses the idea of the Order. With Baylan, there’s a heavy amount of sentimentality associated with the Jedi, especially if we believe (which I do wholeheartedly) that he lost a padawan.

But that’s what begs the other question—is the crystal from his padawan? Did he take it from his padawans lightsaber and keep it for himself to carry on the memory of that kid (who i like to think was a female but that’s the girldad lover in me speaking)? Was it motivated by grief? Has he allowed himself to grieve at all, and if not, was taking the crystal his way of avoiding that emotion?

Or was it motivated by grief? There is no emotion, only peace. Is that when he ditched the code? How could he have any sort of peace after losing his padawan? Or, did he find that peace in keeping the crystal?

But then there’s my other question—what’s the significance of it? Dave Filoni, from what I’ve seen, is intentional. I don’t think adding what looks like a green kyber crystal in Baylan’s belt is just some sort of happenstance that didn’t have any thought behind it.

And, with Baylan’s character, it’s way too significant. When it comes to how he feels about the Jedi, how he seems to actually feel a little bad about having to kill Ahsoka in episode 2. His relationship with Shin. The padawan braid. It all screams significance to me.

So, when it comes to significance, what role is it going to play by the end of the show? I really cannot see it being included and making Baylan’s character so nuanced and intriguing and then not doing anything with it.

Mundi and I were talking about this earlier today. I mentioned these main two points, but also this-

And then Mundi had to drive the stake further through my heart and twist it around by basically saying what if Baylan’s dying act was giving Shin his crystal (still thinking about this mundi THANKS)

I said a stretch at first, but it doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore (except for her becoming fully good). Now, I don’t want Baylan to die. He’s the last character I want to die and I love him, BUT…

How he dies? I have no idea. Thrawn, Morgan, Enoch? Ahsoka, Sabine, Ezra? Betrayed by Shin? (very doubtful i feel) I think there’s a lot of options of how it could happen, if the cards are played right.

So if we think that’s the case, Shin is around when he dies or mortally wounded. Maybe she sees it happen to him like how he saw it happen to his last padawan. Shin is distraught, the most emotion we see from her because, well, it’s Baylan who’s trained her and borderline raised her, and they have a moment together before he passes. Baylan makes her take the crystal (which would hit a lot harder if it is his original one and did not belong to his padawan) and they have some sappy goodbye that’ll have me crying for six weeks.

We’ve also all talked about how Shin and subtext from some of her lines that indicates some sort of… longing or curiosity regarding the Jedi. If, within the last two episodes, those are confirmed or it’s revealed that Baylan could sense that feeling in Shin, i think (assuming he does die in this way) giving her his crystal makes sense.

Maybe she keeps it as sentimental in her own belt as I don’t see her turning fully to the Light in the show. But, if there’s another season, who knows.

Going back four paragraphs, I believe if it were Thrawn or Morgan who killed him or orchestrated his death, Shin would not follow them back. She’d go with Ahsoka and the Gang TM home in the purrgil mouths. She clearly hates Peridea and, if Ahsoka and the crew are there to witness Baylan’s death (for whatever reason), they could have sympathy on Shin maybe and help her home.

OK. I hope that covered those thoughts in a somewhat coherent fashion. Here’s where that chosen ignorance comes in.

Shin’s braid. An anon actually sent a link to a tweet with both this AND the Baylan one in one post, so thank you nonnie for that!

Anyway. Shin’s braid. Three (four?) green kyber crystals.

Why.

Did they, for some reason, come from Baylan? Did he just have a cluster of them and he gave her a few to include in her braid?

If the braid was her idea, did she want them included in it? Did they still come from Baylan if that’s true? Did she want to feel that connected to the Jedi from the start of her apprenticeship with Baylan to include them in her braid?

If the braid was Baylan’s idea, did he include them? Weave them through the strands? Did he talk to her about including them? Including crystals in a padawan braid wasnt traditional, to my knowledge (not that they are traditional jedi). Was it some sort of selfish choice? Was the ghost of his padawan still lingering in the middle of these two that he felt he had to?

WHAT DOES IT MEAN. WHY ARE THEY THERE. WHAT IS THE SIGNIFICANCE.

I NEED THEIR WHOLE STORY RIGHT NOW

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captastra · 10 months

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+ Last Line + Music Monday Whenever

Thanks for the tag @eclecticwildflowers @madparadoxum @the-lastcall @detectivelokis @poisonedtruth @kyber-infinitygems @roofgeese (tagging you all right back!) 💗! Its been a hot minute since I had something that was good enough to share but now I have one story for Writer's Month I am so excited to share! It's a bittersweet scene between Renee and Rick but it has me very excited to work on :)! And thanks @kyber-infinitygems for sharing the song with me!

Sniffling, Renee pressed the play button, willing her to feeling something other than the emptiness that was taking over. The message was less than a minute. His words the same as when she first listened, brief, borderline indifferent as he told her he was leaving, didn’t know when he would be back, if ever. And if he did, he wouldn’t come back to her, so it would be better if they never talked again. When the message ended, another message popped up asking if she wanted to save or delete. Her thumb hovered over the delete button and part of her screamed to delete it. A message like that was not one to take lightly. He meant what he said, whatever the reason and she would need to let him go… but not that night. Instead Renee sent a message to her sister, saying she was coming over. She didn’t wait to see if her sister responded as she got up and changed out of her dress. It was going to be a long night, but she would do anything to drown out the pain and memories of Rick. Grabbing her bag, Renee made her way out of her apartment and over to her sister’s home. ~ An unknown amount of miles away, Rick watched his phone as Renee’s name lit up the screen. The seconds ticked by as the phone continued to ring silently. Around him, men moved and prepared for the mission Waller had pulled him into, but Rick paid them no attention. He was already prepared and had waited for the inevitable phone call to come and sure enough, it did. It seemed to on go on forever, her phone call. Ricks mind was silent, jaw clenched as he stayed focus on this singular moment. He wasn’t going to imagine how she looked, dressed up for the date he had blown off. She probably looked beautiful.

You know I love you, boy In every single way Though I love you, boy I'll miss you every day Oh, I love you, boy I wish that I could stay with you And keep the life I made with you And even though this feels so right I'm holding back the tears tonight

It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do You know it isn't true But I must say to you

That I don't need your love, no, no I don't need your love, no, no It'll never be better than it was, no, no But I don't need your love, no, no

I've got no choice

No Pressure Tags: @kourumi @confidentandgood @poetikat @incognito-insomniac @awhellstothejoe @bearcina @galaxycunt @marivenah @bitchesofostwick @spaceratprodigy @darkfire1177 @theelderhazelnut @shegetsburned @galaxymermaid214 @transcaster @clonesupport and anyone else who'd like to share anything :)

#wip whenever #oc: renée watts #rick flag #rick flag x oc #dc oc #the suicide squad

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ailani-reillata · 3 months

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The Acolyte - Chapter Sixteen: The Sin

Oc Centric - Multichapter - 9.2k - Rated T

Summary: The Separatist Crisis has reached its peak. War looms throughout the galaxy, casting a dark, bloody shadow over the thinning ranks of the Jedi Order. The end of civilization has already started. This is the story of Jedi Acolyte Ailani Réillata. Her end has just begun.

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen,

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"He who surrenders hope surrenders life."

The crystalline landscape of Christophsis was aglow with battle.

Blaster fire echoed around the terrain, bouncing off crystal spires and rocks as the smell of sweat and dust filled the thick air.

Ailani blinked away dripping blood, the sticky red catching in her eyelashes and splattering across her vision. She couldn't think straight. Not with all this crimson, not with all this sweat and smoke. Her ears hadn't stopped ringing since their crash landing, and despite her best efforts, Ailani knew that a part of her mind was still trapped within the fiery wreckage they had once called a gunship.

The galaxy was hazy and fragmented, yet one thing was certain: This was not how her mission was supposed to go. Her mission. The words tossed around in Ailani's mind as she huddled behind the discarded, flaming scraps of their gunship—her mission.

The last two years had been grueling, and the Order had been spread so thin that not even a medical bracelet nor lack of experience could keep Ailani grounded to Coruscant. Everyone had a role in the field now, even those who did not belong there.

Her mission.

Ailani let her eyes drift to Wolffe, his helmet covered in dust; his armor chipped in several places. Yet his gaze was steady as he fired three more shots across the battlefield. He didn't even seem shaken.

The official report would call this assignment the 104th's relief mission. The file would go on and on about supplies and refugees, and Ailani would be listed as the annoying consultant who tagged along. She found these white lies one of the strangest parts of warfare. The lying was constant and continuous. Not even the Archives told the whole truth anymore; even the Council could be counted among the honest. Everyone lied. It was just as easy as breathing.

Ailani hated lying. Simply avoiding the truth was easier, and misdirection didn't weigh on her conscience as much. Her Father had once said that lying was the beginning of the end. Once fiction became part of the soul, it was hard to find the true self—her Father. The mere thought of him made Ailani feel much weaker. Ever since the crash, thoughts of her Father had been tormenting her, her self-control and sanity lost below the flaming gunship. He was everywhere, the sound of his voice echoing in the blaster fire, the shape of his armor mimicked in her clone companions. And he would be so disappointed in her. Lying for the Jedi Order. What sort of Mandalorian was she?

Ailani looked back at Wolffe, soaking in every bit of his spirit and frame. He would be disappointed, too. She didn't want to disappoint him.

Her mission. Her lie. Her kyber cave.

Ailani let her blurry eyes wander the shimmering landscape, forcing herself not to flinch at the destruction around her. This mission was supposed to be easy. That was one of the only reasons she had been granted it. The reassurances of easy routes and safety nets had convinced the Council that Ailani could be trusted. They hadn't expected this kind of resistance. Not even Master Adi had, and she knew every secret in the sector.

The Separatists were not supposed to be this far out already. They were not supposed to have this many droids this far out. No one was supposed to be this far out because, officially, there was nothing out here. Public maps listed the area as a wasteland, and even Jedi archive maps omitted the true purpose of the barren region.

Kyber caves demanded secrecy.

The Council monitored the location of these crystals with detailed dedication and watchful eyes. Every stone was accounted for, and every cave was known. Kyber was sacred to the Order, as beskar was sacred to Ailani. And both were in danger now.

Ailani gripped her lightsaber tighter, letting the buttons and metal dig into her skin. She was shaking. She had to get this right. She couldn't let the Separatists take the kyber. She wouldn't let them. She would destroy the caves, just as instructed. She would keep this mission a secret, just as ordered. She wouldn't even tell Wolffe. She had promised not to tell Wolffe. Apparently, their friendship had not gone unnoticed.

The mountains and caverns Ailani needed were so close yet endlessly far away—unattainable. They twinkled in the light, just out of touch, just out of reach, and they sang an echoing song in the very back of Ailani's mind. The sound was like a whispered lullaby, a promise of familiarity. It sounded so much like the holocron, warm and orange, warm and known. It felt like the warmth of Wolffe's breath, too.

The whole way here, Ailani had felt like she was walking on eggshells around Wolffe. He just had a way of prying the truth out of her. And his eyes, they could always see straight to her heart. Whenever Wolffe laughed, Ailani wanted to tell him everything. If he smiled, her stomach wished to vomit the truth. She felt cut open and laid bare—fully exposed. He saw right through her; their closeness in the past six months had only aided this ability. It was like he could read her mind. During training, they had become perfect matches unless he cheated—which he often did, and in meetings, they had taken to finishing each other's sentences and ideas.

The understanding that had been granted that night outside of the medical center and the mutual fear they had shared over being a sole survivor had shifted something in their ever-changing relationship. Ailani still felt that strange sort of tension around him, her hands sweaty and her face flushed, but it was easier to move through, and the feeling became less overwhelming the closer he got. However, it still became unbearable when he left. Wolffe was brilliant, like starlines and distant planets. And honestly, he was a little terrifying. The ease in his face, the certainty in his words. She didn't want to be without him for even a second. And Ailani was so afraid that if Wolffe found out she had a secret mission she kept from him, he would never speak to her again.

Wolffe valued honesty. Ailani didn't have it anymore.

An explosion sounded far off, and Ailani flinched, pulling herself back to the task. The crash to the planet below had dulled her senses and left a ringing sensation in her ears, but she was old enough to put on a brave face.

Nearly two years of this. Two years of scrambling for ground on the battlefield. Two years of death reports and blood caught in her eyelashes. Two years of suffering and war. Two years of the Clone War. Two years of knowing Wolffe.

Ailani shifted her attention to him, huddled near her and reloading his blaster. The rest of the Pack and R3 were scattered a few feet away, each crouching for what little cover they had behind their broken gunship. Her droid was beeping wildly, panicking like a frightened animal.

This was not how her mission was supposed to go.

Initially, they had planned to approach the planet together. No backup, no battlefield plans. Just the six of them. The official mission was merely a smuggling assignment, taking supplies to a local refugee camp, and it shouldn't have needed more than a squad. Now, they were pinned down and vastly outnumbered, and the village and Ailani's secret mission in the caverns were tauntingly out of reach.

But not for long, Ailani told herself. They just had to live until reinforcements could make it down. Then everything would be fine. In the heat of battle, they would be safer in numbers, and she could sneak away and seal the caves, and everything would be fine. They would not fail. She would not fail. No one had to know anything. It wouldn't be lying if no one found out. Two years of knowing Wolffe would not be lost in one afternoon if only he would let her help.

Ailani reached for one of the stimulant pills in her boot pocket and swallowed the pill dry. She must have already taken one today, or perhaps two, but it hardly mattered. She would keep taking them until the headache disappeared because the crash had shaken her up so badly. She just needed to make it through this lie—this day.

"I'm fine now!" Ailani shouted to Wolffe, "Let me help!"

Wolffe was standing, firing blaster bolts across the field, desperate to keep their approaching enemies at bay, "No!" He shouted over his shoulder, not even bothering to crouch beside her and give a complete answer.

There was some truth to his insistence that she stay low. The lack of cover, the ringing in her head from the crash, and the blood leaking from her eyebrow did not help her battlefield skills. But they were all shaken from the landing. Maybe she didn't know how to use a blaster properly, and perhaps using her close combat saber was dangerous in this situation. Still, Ailani felt so useless sitting here, trying to even out her trembling breaths. Wolffe was using the truth to fuel his overprotective nature.

He hadn't liked when she had been assigned to help them. Wolffe had protested to the Council right in front of her, citing Ailani's frequent need for rest due to her lingering lung problems and the multiple concussions she hadn't completely healed from. It had been hard for her not to take offense when Wolffe displayed all her flaws so plainly, but when the Council ignored him and assigned her anyway, the smug smile Ailani had given made all of it worth it.

The Blue Shadow Virus still haunted her sometimes, but the pain was less overpowering now, and of course, constant stimulants helped. A year could change a lot, and Ailani could deal with the chest pain and the soreness. Wolffe was just being Wolffe. Overprotective and over-concerned. In truth, Ailani was sure many of the Council members agreed with him, but the situation was too dire to trust anyone besides her. She was good at keeping secrets, and she knew the kyber caves of Christophsis because they had granted her the very kyber crystal that sat in her lightsaber now.

Ignoring Wolffe, Ailani stood and threw her lightsaber across the battlefield, spinning it with the Force like a circular saw, slicing through battle droids before quickly recalling it and ducking down again.

Even the motion of standing up and sitting back down again made her head dizzy, and Ailani let herself falter against the ground for a moment, praying that Wolffe was too distracted to notice. But he never got distracted, at least not like she did. In an instant, Wolfe was sitting beside her, anger evident even though his face was hidden, "I said no." The words cracked over his helmet vocalizer, sharp and accusatory.

Ailani ignored him, "You're welcome," She replied, taking a shaky breath. She sounded much more winded than she felt, not that he would believe her,

Wolffe shook his head, clearly not humored, "Reinforcements will be here soon. I don't need you risking your life needlessly."

He was being optimistic at best and blatantly lying to her at worst. Reinforcements must have been a few hours away, trapped in a starship battle that could last all night. Or longer. Their arrival had been an ambush on both fronts. Their landing party was pinned down, and their starship was stuck in orbit. It should have concerned Ailani, the perfect timing of the Separatist assault, but it was hard to think about anything beyond the kyber caves that sat within grasp.

"I'd rather not be overrun when support gets here." Ailani replied, "Help won't matter if we're all dead."

The Wolfpack could hold their own; that much Ailani knew for sure. They could protect R3, and the flaming wreckage of their gunship provided enough intimidation and cover to keep the approaching scouting squad of troopers at bay. But it wouldn't last forever. They were still outnumbered, and Separatist reinforcements could probably arrive before theirs. Even if a small group of droids approached them from behind, they would be done for. Six wounded against thirty battle droids was hard enough. They didn't also need to fall victim to the element of surprise.

Wolffe debated something momentarily and shook his head again, "I'm covering you." He said before rising and sending more bolts across the field.

Ailani smiled and felt something that might have been a laugh rise in her chest. Maker, she was definitely delirious. Or maybe all those months stuck on Coruscant had just taken their toll on her mind and body. It felt so good to be out again, even if death lingered closer than she would have liked.

A memory arose in her mind: the first time they had met, the first time he had offered her battlefield support. Perhaps it was her concussion talking, but as she stared upon Wolffe's face, all Ailani could do was admire him. The dust on his helmet, the strength of his movements. He was brilliant and bright, even in battle. She wanted to return to the beginning, back when things were better.

"This is just like our first date!" Ailani shouted over the noise of blasterfire, brushing aside her fear with trembling hands and a poor attempt at a joke. Was it even a joke? Ailani didn't know.

For a moment, Ailani wondered if she crossed some invisible line in their endless game of touch and go, yet her head was swimming and ringing. She needed familiarity. Invisible lines be damned. She needed—

Wolffe fired several more shots across the battlefield before once again crouching for cover beside her, his chest heaving breathlessly. The crash made his sense unsteady like crashing waves against the shore of his lighthouse. He was still eternal and stable, but the place he accompanied in the Force was more on edge than usual. Maybe she was just unsteady. She needed—

Wolffe's dust-stained helmet scanned her face for a moment, and for an instant, Ailani swore she could see his dark eyes behind the visor. Maybe she was hallucinating. After a pause, Wolffe shook his head at her softly, and his words leaked with a half smile that Ailani longed to see, "This isn't like Geonosis at all."

A strange and foolish happiness bubbled inside her, but Ailani quickly masked it with a laugh. And they fell into a routine and fell together.

Training had given them a sort of cohesive battlefield mind, and their recent closeness had granted them the ability to reflect the other. It felt good to be helpful, and it felt good to be needed and needed in return. Every move had a counter move, every action a parallel mark. Her saber spun like a shield to protect him and sometimes like a deadly saw, slicing through the air and the metal of battle droids.

The maneuver wouldn't have been possible if her hilt had been made of anything besides beskar, and Ailani distantly found herself thanking her Father for his craftsmanship. Some droid would have blown through her kyber crystal by now if the strongest metal in the galaxy hadn't protected it. Every so often, the hilt would return to her hot and scorched, evidence that a stray bolt had indeed hit it, and even though it hurt her hands, Ailani still found herself whispering thanks.

It might have been hours or minutes, but none mattered because the second wave approached once the forces began to die down. Ailani faltered. Her hand already burned, small welts forming from the heat of her hilt, and her lungs couldn't take a full breath. After months of nothing but perfectly manicured practice, real battle was nothing short of exhausting. She could hardly handle one wave, and only six were in total. How were they supposed to keep this up?

Ailani stumbled behind their cover, her chest heaving and her eyes wild. A stinging metallic taste filled her mouth, and Ailani knew that strain had prompted blood. Her body was so useless these days, so tired and heavy, so delicate. No amount of stims could hide that, no matter how many she took or how many she hid in her pockets.

The clanking of battle droids fueled her downward spiral, making her heart beat louder. She had the best weapon, the supernatural ability. She was supposed to have the answers. She was already tired. She had hardly done anything, and already her body ached and shivered, giving up on her. If she couldn't fight or help, it would be down to the five members of the Wolfpack. Six, plus R3, against seemingly endless squads of battle droids. It was a miracle they weren't dead already.

The rest of the Wolfpack had come in beside her and Wolffe, with R3 shaking catatonically beside Boost. They were all aware that Wolffe and Ailani had secured the best flaming rubble as cover. The gunship was crumbling as they spoke, and even the best hiding places did not last long.

R3 was singing to himself, curled into a mess of metal. His parts were shut into himself, and if it weren't for the singing, Ailani might have assumed he was powered off. Everyone else looked equally exhausted, though less fearful. Exhausted. Catatonic. This was supposed to be her mission. She was supposed to make things right. She should have been able to handle this. And now they were all going to die and…

"This is my fault." Ailani said suddenly, her voice cracking, "I'm so sorry." The apology came from her soul. As soon as she said it, Ailani felt the threads of her composure crumble. She was about to cry, salty tears burning in her throat.

"What are you—" Sinker began, but he was cut off by a blaster bolt that whizzed a little too close to his helmet. Ailani felt herself gasp, and tears started falling.

"The planet is lost," Ailani said, her voice shaking as blood from her lips tainted every word. Instantly, the battlefield noise faded to nothing as stares burned her face. "I've known since the beginning that this fight is useless. We are just spinning our wheels." She sniffed harshly, the dam in her chest breaking open.

"What?" Comet was the first to speak, disbelief and something almost like horror in his voice, "Ailani, our entire mission—"

Ailani shook her head, her bottom lip trembling, "No. I am here to save the kyber." She replied, honestly promoted by shame and guilt and exhaustion. "I am only here for the kyber. That was the priority mission."

"But the refugees—"

"They are secondary. The planet is already lost. We cannot help them." Ailani stared at the ground, unable to meet their eyes as the truth finally leaked from her lips. "When the Separatists take the planet, they cannot find the kyber caverns. I am here to seal the caves and hide all evidence of kyber mining."

The silence between them was heavy, and even as rouge blaster fire rained on their shelter, Ailani swore she would have been able to hear a pin drop. She watched her tears fall into her lap. Pathetic.

"You lied to me," Wolffe said finally, his tone low and deadly.

You lied to me. Not to the Wolfpack, not to the 104th. She lied to him. The acknowledgment hurt worse than she could have ever imagined, burning up inside her heart and sending shivers down all her nerves. That desperate feeling was back, the yearning for his understanding and approval.

"I know. But need you now," Ailani said, her voice still shaking as the words came out more like a plea than a statement. "Help me now."

His mask was laced with dust and ash, but Ailani could still sense how his expression twisted and sank. Please, she thought. Please.

"Where are the caverns?" He didn't acknowledge her dismissal but was pushing forward anyway—almost forgiveness.

"On the other side of that ridge." Ailani said, "We must get there before more Separatists arrive."

"Plan?" Wolffe asked, already scanning the terrain. He was so professional, so steady. She was a complete mess.

Ailani pulled the charges from her belt pouch, "Localized explosives for the entrance. We have to go at least a kilometer in. The more rubble, the harder it will be to uncover later."

The group nodded their heads in reluctant agreement, following Wolffe's lead.

"What can you even use kyber for besides lightsabers?" Comet asked, turning a charge over in his hand. He tried to shift the conversation to a more casual place, but the tension refused to ease.

"I don't know," Ailani answered, "But the Order is not keen to find out."

"We can't split up," Wolffe said, refocusing the conversation, "We're already too few."

"But six of us won't make it to that ridge." Boost replied, "It's too far, and there's too much space between cover unless we wait for reinforcements."

Reinforcements. How long had they been waiting for those now? Hours or minutes? They couldn't sit around any longer—

As if summoned by her doubt, fire began to reign down from the sky and showered the enemy. Bomber ships flew with piercing speed, cutting through the sky and ringing in Ailani's ears. Reinforcements. Finally.

"They're coming back for a second run!" Wolffe shouted.

Now or never. Boost shook R3 softly and prompted the droid to life. Time to go. Time to run.

"Stay as close to my shield as possible!" Ailani yelled to the group. They all nodded in agreement, even Wolffe.

It was time for action.

Ailani stood and tossed her lightsaber before her, sending the golden blades shimmering and glistening in the sunlight. The lightsaber spun. The shield held. Blaster bolts rained down from the sky and provided more cover. Lights flashed in Ailani's eyes.

"Let's go!" Wolffe yelled, and they were already falling into a tight line.

The coverage of her lightsaber and the spray of the bombers was only so much, and most members took shelter behind crystal spires and trees in between running. But Wolffe stayed close beside her. Caught in her protection. Right where she needed him to be.

They were only a few meters from the caverns when everything fell apart.

A sharp, piercing sound rang through Ailani's head, sending everything to ash. She crumbled, dropping her saver and her legs giving way. The noise was unbearably loud, melting her thoughts and sending her to her knees and—

And she was no longer on the battlefield.

Black space and stars formed the ground below her and the sky above. It was like an eternal void, with only specks of light illuminating the world and flickering far away.

Ailani was on her knees, her trembling arms bracing what would have been a direct fall on her face. The ground below her hands rippled like shallow water and felt cool, like metal. The hard crystal ground of the battlefield was gone, all dust and blood forgotten and replaced by the void.

Ailani pushed herself up, standing on trembling legs, scanning the room with distrustful eyes. Where was she? Was she dreaming?

A memory lingered, her waking dream all those years ago back on Coruscant. Her first dream was Kamino. Waking dream. Vision. What was the difference again? Ailani found that she couldn't quite remember.

The landscape was similar to that of her reoccurring dream of burning hearts and endless aches, but there was no smoke or flame nor screaming of metallic engines. The place she was now seemed eerily quiet.

But there was a sound. Not screeching like her dream, but low and deep like…

Ailani tilted her head, searching for the noise with ears that no longer rang with the sounds of battle. Her eyes scanned the void, looking for dark shapes against a dark sky.

And there.

A few meters away was an older man, kneeling on the ground and adorned in intricate robes with a large matching crown. The fabric pooled around him, lying around his form like flowers in a funeral casket. He was regal in an ancient sort of way, his clothing dated and more like relics than accessories. Something about the styling nagged at the back of Ailani's mind, but she couldn't quite place the connection.

His breathing was low and trembling, so different from the mechanical noise of her reoccurring dream and yet so similar in a way Ailani didn't understand.

He was holding a shiny black dagger.

"But I see now that there is no going back." The man said, his voice echoing and hollow, yet so impossibly sad, it made Ailani's heart ache. Every word he spoke seemed to demand such effort, such strain. Even the emotional burden of it all seemed to wear on him.

And he turned the dagger onto himself.

Ailani found herself running towards him, but her legs only moved in slow motion, her body heavy and staggering with her every useless effort.

"Father—" A voice cried, and suddenly, a new shape entered Ailani's void. A shadowy figure blossomed from the ground with wisps of smoke and shade dancing and spilling about it. The being was massive, towering over the man, its voice booming yet strained. Where eyes should be, only two glowing red dots remained.

The very presence of the being made Ailani's blood run cold, and her breath caught in her throat. She was no longer running to the old man. Rather, her legs were frozen to the floor, and she could only watch. She was too terrified to move.

The old man inserted the dagger into his chest, the blade running through layers of fabric and flesh, but the man did not even flinch as it sunk into his skin and heart.

The shadow stumbled towards the man, its movements frantic and desperate as it gathered him into its shade, covering his body like a fog, "What have you done? It didn't have to be this way!" The smoke figure was on the verge of sobs, crying out with an echoing voice. The echoing faded into strange sounds, and a shiver flickered through Ailani's nerves. The distinct urge to flee came back, and chills filled her arms. She needed to leave.

"Yes, my child. It did." The old man said. His form was fading, and he looked even weaker in the shadow's arms, "You and I are tied together, and your strength runs through me. This way, I take your power."

His words made no sense, yet their implication made Ailani's mind spin. What did he mean? What did any of this mean?

"Please, don't die." The shadow was in evident agony now, the strain of its words guttural and deep. The red glow of its eyes was fading into darkness, the light growing dim.

The old man smiled weakly, "I always knew there was good in you." He pulled the shadow in, almost like he was hugging it, and the two figures melted into one.

The embrace only lasted a second.

A bright blue light filled Ailani's vision and sent the void aglow, rivaling the brightness of stars and solar systems. The light acted as a knife and sliced through the man and the shadow, turning both beings into nothing but shattered light fractures.

Ailani covered her mouth with her hand, muffling a gasp as she watched the shattered remains of the pair turn into the stars that surrounded the void.

Then the light turned on her.

Ailani felt it bare down on her like a spotlight, warming her skin painfully. She ran.

Her legs rushed with adrenaline, her heart was suddenly awake and racing, and she fled.

But it was no use.

The light pierced through her chest, just as it had for the old man and the shadow, and the burning sensation that accompanied it stole Ailani's breath and soul, ripping them from her body and taking them somewhere beyond.

Ailani gasped and fell to her knees, uselessly grasping at the light that expanded from her chest, trying to remove it, attempting to escape its piercing power. She was crying now, frantically pushing at the shard in her chest, her vision blurring with tears.

No matter how she pressed and pushed, the light only seemed to dig deeper into her chest, sending her every bone alight with flame and leaving her gasping. She could no longer hold her body upright, and Ailani fell onto her side, feeling something sharp sink into her stomach as she collapsed.

She didn't even have the energy to gasp nor cry anymore, and instead, she merely writhed on the floor, mumbling something that might have been ‘please.’

She fell into darkness, frightened and alone.

The first sensation that returned was the sound of dull ringing.

Sand stung at her cheeks as grains clung to her skin and caught in her eyelashes. She was lying on the ground, her head resting on something soft. When had she gotten on the ground?

Ailani opened her mouth to speak if only to remind her body that she was still alive, yet only dust fell from her lips in the form of a warm gasp.

Something warm was leaking from her mouth. Metallic and warm. Blood. Blood was dripping from her mouth. That probably wasn't a good sign. Ailani took another shuddering breath as her mouth fell closed, sand and blood now making home in the place lost without words.

Everything was spinning.

No noise had yet flooded her ears, and only the dull ringing remained, weaving with the numbness of her bones to create something that almost felt like a painful weightlessness. Ailani heaved another breath, calling upon the Force to return her senses. The universe stood silent, hesitant for a moment, yet her Jedi senses were stronger.

Everything was so numb, and strength could not be given to the dead.

Be with me.

Slowly, her body answered the call of the Living universe, and soon, gentle hurt twisted through her muscles. The numbness of her soul was replaced by an increasing ache that melted into a gentle burn…

That melted into a fire of agony. Not even a gasp had time to escape her lungs as Ailani's fingertips came alive with pain, and she felt her nerves themselves alight with a heat stronger than the collapsing star that sat in her chest as her vision faded in and out with lights brighter than star lines themselves.

She did not have long to think about it. A hand was placed against her neck, pressing harshly against her pulse, and suddenly, Ailani felt twenty-one again and lost on the sands of Geonosis.

Hazy voices spoke around her, sighing in relief and speaking in muffled voices she couldn't understand.

"Ailani." Someone whispered, voice low and breath warm against her ringing ear, "Ailani."

Ailani opened her eyes and was met with light so bright it burned. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, trying to refocus on reality. Someone was leaning over her, presumably the person who had spoken, and yet their face was blurred and distant, framed by a halo of light and dark curls. Even before her mind could register the acknowledgement, that place between her ribs began to pull, and Ailani felt the gentle stability of the sea after a storm.

Wolffe. Wolffe was with her.

His eyes were tired, and he looked so confused and strained, a furrow between his brows. Ailani wanted to reach up and touch his face but found all strength in her limbs gone and echoes of pain sitting where nerves had once been. Instead, she let her eyes scan the pathways her finger wished to trace, and she noted every hint of dirt and every cut that adored him. Wolffe looked sad and tired. How Ailani wished she could ease that look.

"I'm almost done," someone said, and Ailani placed the name Wildfire to the call, "The stims should kick in any minute."

Why would the medic be so close to her now?

Ailani tried to look towards whatever Wildfire was working on, but Wolffe grabbed her face and carefully directed it back to him, "Don't." He said, shaking his head.

She nodded dumbly, leaning into his touch without fully processing his words. Her mind was still fuzzy and displaced, and his hand made everything more confusing. What was happening? She stared at Wolffe, drowning in his gaze. She could have stayed like that forever, just gazing at him.

"You don't have to worry, alright?" Comet said, his voice coming from beside her, "Reinforcements arrived, and we destroyed the caves."

Caves.

It all came rushing back to Ailani, covering her and suffocating out all light. Her mission. Her kyber. The piercing sound. The dream. The old man. The darkness over the entire universe. The monster that ate all light. Her skin began to crawl, and even hands of help suddenly felt like touches of death.

Ailani sat up suddenly, pushing herself away from Wolffe and scrambling for the ground. She was heaving, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her mind swam. The shadow from her dream loomed in her mind. It was going to drown her. She needed to run.

"Ailani," Wolffe said sharply, almost like an order.

The fear was stronger as memories of the shadow grew closer, and Ailani brushed Wolffe off, rising to her feet. She needed to get out of here. She needed to be alone. She needed—

Whatever was wrong with her side suddenly felt much more painful, and Ailani groaned with the effort it took to stand. She looked down and saw dirty cloth stained with red sprawled across her midsection. The shift to standing made it feel like the skin below was ripping open. She ignored it. The shadow was going to eat her whole.

"You need to rest. You're not thinking straight." Wildfire was grasping for her, trying to hold her down, but it was too late. The stimulant had kicked in, and she had enough energy to fight. She had enough fear to flee.

"I'm fine," Ailani repeated sharply, ripping her arm from his grasp. Wildfire's touch felt like static, burning and sizzling at her skin. The feeling reminded her too much of the sizzling sensation of her burning heart. She needed to get out of here. She needed to run and run until she found the light. She needed to leave. She wasn't safe here.

No one was safe here.

Where was that shadow?

"You need to lay down." It was Boost, trying to reason this time, perhaps playing on their friendship. It wouldn't work. The shadow grew closer. She needed to run.

"I said I'm fine." Ailani's voice came out like a growl, low and dangerously raw, and all hands that tried to aid her suddenly retreated as if she had slapped them away.

R3 fell into her eye-line, the droid beeping out concerned words that she didn't have the energy to translate. He looked beat up, the red paint chipped all over his body. He was trying to reason with her. He didn't understand. She didn't want to calm down.

Ailani sidestepped the droid and stalked away, trying desperately to mask how her leg limped with the effort it took to walk. She needed to get away. She needed to get as far away as possible. She needed silence to forget. She needed—

"Ailani," Wolffe. He was right behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to face him, "Stop. That's an order."

They had wandered far away from the group to maintain some sense of privacy, just enough to yell at each other without calls of insubordination.

Good.

"I told you I'm fine." Ailani tried, making her words as biting as possible. But it was no use. She had never known Wolffe to flee when things got frightening. He didn't understand. He hadn't seen her dream.

"I deserve better than fine." Wolffe said, his brows furrowed and eyes deep and dark. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. His grip was so forceful it almost hurt, yet Ailani instinctively leaned into it. Were his hands shaking, or was her arm trembling? Did it matter? She knew they were both afraid. Afraid in their own ways.

She needed to run. Her head was swimming, and the world leaked into blackness. She needed something to cling to. She needed to flee. She needed to be grounded. She needed…

A pang of guilt hit Ailani, but it wasn't stronger than her fear. The remnants of her dream whispered about her mind, and her failure at the caves screamed even louder, "I don't have anything better than that!" She admitted, voice almost shrill, "I…"

The light came back to Ailani's mind, cold and bright, piercing through her chest and ripping apart what little remained of her soul. And the screaming, the screaming…

Wolffe was looking at her again like he had looked at her outside that medical center. His eyes were as deep as the void and warmer than sunlight. He saw her, and she saw through her, leaving Ailani exposed and vulnerable—a crack of understanding in the armor that fear granted. They had spoken of her dreams before, but nothing on this scale. Nothing like this. Would he still like being around her if she told him about this? About the shadow?

His eyes were trained on her, and Ailani found her answer within them.

"I'm losing my mind," Ailani said, her voice completely hollow. Her mind screamed. The shadow chased her. Everything turned to dust. She was losing her mind.

Part of her hoped that Wolffe could find it.

He seemed unsatisfied with her vague response, but he didn't press. Wolffe merely smoothed over her comment with stern words. "You're not losing your mind. Not any more than I am." His grip on her arm loosened, but he didn't let go. He looked tired. What was he thinking?

Ailani didn't want him to let go, but she didn't want to speak of her dream either. Her headache raged, and the ringing in her ears wouldn't stop. Nothing would stop. It was all too much. "You don't understand." She croaked out. Her stomach felt like it was on fire, and for a moment, her legs buckled.

"Then tell me," Wolffe replied firmly. His grip tightened again. He seemed dizzy and unbalanced, almost as sickly as her. What happened while she was out?

It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Everything felt wrong. Her throat was so dry, "I can't."

Wolffe seemed almost betrayed by her words, hurt crossing his face for a mere moment before vanishing and hardening into resolve, "Come back to camp." The words might have been an order, but everything was dizzying and lost, "Rest." Wolffe sounded so tired, so drained. Was that her fault? Ailani scanned his expression, soaking in the deep eye bags and flecks of blood on his face. Was that her blood?

"I can't," Ailani repeated helplessly, shaking her head. Another wave of nausea chased the movement, "I can't rest. I can't do this. I want to go home." The words fell like babbling nonsense. She sounded so unbelievably childish and pathetic, calling for home as if it were some tangible thing and not a long-dead place in her heart. The shadow loomed over her mind, promising to return when she closed her eyes.

She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't do anything. She was useless. She had failed again, leaving her cave to someone else. Always leaving. Always lost in her own head. She couldn't take any more.

The shadow was going to eat her alive.

Wolffe's face didn't falter, "You can." He held that Commander's face, that cold and certain look—the one he used to reassure dead men.

It hurt.

Ailani felt struck by his words like the ground had been removed from under her. A strangled sound left her throat, and she faltered, falling forward and throwing her entire weight into him. Instantly, Wolffe caught her, catching her and keeping them both upright on trembling legs. His arm around her waist irritated the wound, and her nerves burned, prompting tears to finally flow. Yet she didn't want him to let go. If the shadow took her, she didn't want to be alone.

"I can't," Ailani cried, "I can't do it." She was sobbing now, her chest tight and shaking. "I want to go home. I want to go home." The shadow from her dream haunted every moment, twisting her incomprehensible words into pathetic babble. She felt so weak, so dizzy.

"Come back to camp," Wolffe tried again, "I've got you." He attempted to get her to stand, but Ailani let her legs melt into water. Useless.

"You didn't even want me here," Ailani accused, her voice cracking. The words had slipped from her lips, and only as she spoke them did Ailani realize that his protest for her company on this mission had stung more than she had admitted. What was wrong with her? She should have been able to let that go. She shouldn't have been thinking of that right now. She had bigger problems.

The shadow was growing in her mind. It was going to kill her. It was going to cover all light. She would be lost in that dark forever. And—

Wolffe sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling under her head, "I want you safe."

The planet stopped as the words sunk in. The shadow left. The dream faded. Still drenched in silent tears, Ailani pulled back to look at him.

Wolffe's face was deadly serious, his eyes dark and debating. Safe. What did safe mean? Why did she feel it now? She had lied to him, and he had given her the honest truth in return. He was serious. And he was so close, so painfully close to her. She could see every speck of dust in his skin, every imperfection that marked the lines of his being. The brushstrokes of his being were so close to her now, and it was so hard to see anything else. Even fear. Was he looking at her the same way?

"I don't think I'm made for this." Ailani breathed her throat tight with dirt and blood. Her ears rang, and her body ached. Everything was wrong. Everything hurt. The universe itself burned up. She was so sick of being on fire.

Something flickered in his eyes, and all at once, Ailani watched as Wolffe came to a decision. His words came out resigned, "I know. That's why they made me."

And he kissed her.

All thought, horror, memory, and mind left Ailani instantly, and she clung to him like a lifeline. The battlefield faded, her vision faded, the planet faded, and the universe itself faded and burned out until there was nothing but him and her.

Her lips felt dry and cracked against his, but the feeling sent tremors through her spine that seemed to shake her very core, and the scent of blood mixed with the unforgettable warmth of him beside her spun around in Ailani's head and stomach until she was so dizzy she feared she would faint. But he was holding her together and holding her upright. His right arm had wrapped around her midsection, gripping her close as his hand trembled against her waist. His other hand was still locked in her grip, and every shift in her breathing or shiver made him hold her hand tighter.

She felt grounded and yet entirely in space. Her body was moving without thought, mirroring and mimicking every subtle shift and every direction he pulled her. Somehow, her free hand had moved on its own and tangled itself into his hair, dried blood and slick sweat on her fingertips, but she could hardly bring herself to care about the scent of iron or the grime of the battlefield.

Because he was kissing her, everything tasted of iron and ash and the slick saltiness of her tears, and none of it mattered because he was kissing her. How much time had she spent craving reassurance like this? How many nights had she dreamed of being this close?

Deep brown eyes that saw through her. Hands that brushed hers. Warmth breath and the soft sound of whirling cybernetics.

The pit of her stomach felt like an inferno, burning with warmth she could only imagine. Even the pain of her wound got lost in the fire, and the dizziness of the drugs until it was nothing but forgotten ash.

Deep brown eyes that saw through her. Hands that brushed hers. Warmth breath and the soft sound of whirling cybernetics.

How had she lived before this moment? How had she survived without this feeling, this closeness? She had spent so much time aching in the dark, wandering by herself through visions and dreams, and now—

An explosion rocked the battlefield and shook the ground below them, and instantly, the warmth shattered into a million jagged shards. Ailani crashed back to the planet below. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she fell from his arms as he fell away from her. He grasped her, catching, reaching, and yet missing.

Ailani hit the ground hard. The moment had ended as soon as it started, and suddenly, everything felt too real. The hazy warmth had become an all-consuming fire, and Ailani felt herself fall victim to the flames.

They simultaneously settled into a cold horror, both gasping on the ground. The shock that rippled through Wolffe was so strong it could be felt in the Force as it slapped Ailani harder than any tidal wave.

For a mere moment, their gazes met, and something distant in Wolffe's eyes caused Ailani to look away with a shudder. It was horror. It was guilt. It was something so much worse than either emotion. Regret maybe? Disgust? Disappointment? The feeling had no name, but it burned. Ailani's head was spinning so rapidly that it was hard to tell where her mixed emotions began and where Wolffe's ended.

His guilt. Her guilt. His guilt. Her guilt. His guilt. Her guilt.

Everything was melting into each other, as they had mere seconds ago. As if through one wretched act, they had been interwoven perfectly for a mere moment and then ripped each other into fragmented shreds of beings. The blurred guilt began to eat at Ailani. Slowly. But it began.

Words spilled from her lips, and Ailani could not stop the shaking apologies. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have—" The strain of her words promoted a cough, and bile and blood spilled from Ailani's lips, framing her hollow mantra. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She shouldn't have. She did. They did. She did.

Ailani raised a hand to cover her mouth but kept speaking anyway, even as the words melted into dry half sobs that slipped past her shaking hands. "Oh, gods, that was wrong—" She felt like she was about to hurl again, and the world spun even worse. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry that was wrong, that was so wrong."

Even as the half apologies kept falling from her lips, Ailani could not force herself to look at Wolffe again, yet every time she blinked, she saw his guilty eyes staring back, and so the apologies felt falling. Her vision was blurring, fading in and out of darkness even as she spoke, not quite consciousness and not quite sleep, some horrid dreamscape that had faded into a nightmare.

Her skin felt aflame, yet his warmth was gone now, leaving her alone in the dust with nothing but ash in her chest as she sat in the destruction of it all. The blood that had been leaking from her hair had now trailed down her face, leaving a crimson red mark that stained its way to her lips.

A scar of remembrance.

Earned with her own blood.

Unable to stand, Ailani curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her trembling legs. What had she done? How could she have done that? She was a Jedi. That is all she was, all she had ever been allowed to be, all she had ever…

What had she done?

The orange glow of the holocron returned to her, drilling a cruel chant into her mind. For your sins, you must be sacrificed.

That feeling came back, that feeling she always got when the world came too close, when the universe felt too small. The overwhelming desire to flee. But she couldn't run; her legs would not obey her, her strength failing.

Wolffe kept appearing in her mind, even as she tried to dismiss him with questions of her guilt and fault, but every thought, every road, led to him, and it was all too much.

"Please go away," Ailani whispered, and even though her voice was quiet, the dead silence that grew between them told Ailani that he had heard her, "Please leave me alone."

"Ailani—" She could hear him shuffle to his feet, and the idea of him reaching for her or talking with her was more than she could bear.

"Go away," She cried, "Go away. Go away. Please go away." She was sobbing again, heaving in breaths and draining her body of all energy as she cried into herself.

She could feel his eyes on her, debating and thinking, searching for answers. It made everything worse. She was going to vomit again, a panic attack rising in her chest.

"Please." She cried, "Please just go away. I'm sorry, please go away."

Through her shaking breaths, she heard his footsteps retreat, fleeing when she could not, leaving for some distant place and time.

Somehow, his absence made her feel worse than his presence had, and Ailani wished to rip open her chest if only to pull her wicked, screaming heart from her cage of ribs and crush it between her bare hands. It was pounding so loud, so uncontrollably, so devastatingly, so horridly, so wonderfully, and it was eating her alive.

Yet, she did not want it to stop. Yet she needed it to stop. She needed everything to stop.

Ailani felt so twisted and tilted and thrown off balance. It was as if the universe itself wove her in another dimension—a wrong dimension. Their time of haze had ended, all those months she had hidden like secrets, all those longing glances she had idolized. They were gone now, and he could see her for who she was. Wrong.

Ailani cursed her weakness but could not get it to stop. She sat catatonic, shaking back and forth, her arms and legs trembling. She could not bring herself to stand. She cried there until the sun sank below the crystal towers and until the darkness of her vision turned into the darkness of reality.

Ailani awoke to tubes and wires spilling from her body. Nearly every vein she had was accompanied by a machine, and the place on her stomach that bled and burned was covered with a massive patch that leaked red.

Bright lights beamed overhead, casting spots in her vision and making her eyes squint painfully. The stench of disinfectant burned her nose and stung her mouth, mixing with the taste of iron on her lips.

Wherever she was, the world seemed to be moving, and though she could not be entirely certain, Ailani knew that at least some of the motion was not due to the sickening dizziness in her head. The hospital was moving. A ship, maybe? Was she being evacuated? Why would she have needed to be evacuated—

The day came back to Ailani in a shot, as did consciousness. Her mission. Her caves. Something on her side. Blood and shadow. Smoke and shade. Something else she couldn't remember.

Ailani tried to sit up, the confusion of the past few hours fueling panic, but there was a tight band around her waist, securing her to the table and keeping her down. Out of the corner of her eye, Ailani saw R3 strapped to the wall beside her, secured into a seat, and powered off. It made the panic worse. Ailani tried to move her arm frantically, but the limb would not obey her, weighed down by exhaustion or pain. She couldn't tell.

Drugged. She was drugged. Heavily drugged.

"Don't move," someone's voice called, distant and crackling, apparently aware that she was awake, "You'll make it worse."

The voice only had a vague meaning in her mind, yet still, she obeyed it. It's not like she had the strength to move anyway. Even if the voice was unknown, the words themselves had meaning. Worse. Ailani swallowed hard. There was something she was forgetting. Something the drugs were dulling. Something that would make all this worse. She was forgetting something horrible. Something worse than whatever had happened to her side. Something worse than the blood and worse than her dream.

It came back, painted across her mind like splattered blood.

A blink filled with dust. Burning fingerprints on her skin. Blood in her mouth. Shaking hands in hers. A kiss she had sealed her fate with.

No amount of machines could keep Ailani tethered, and that place in her heart that had so briefly burned with warmth had now frozen over, and the black hole she so often taunted felt stronger than ever. She was empty.

How long had she prayed for a better understanding of the Force, better knowledge of ghosts that haunted her dreams? How she had studied and applied herself despite the agony in her heart. She had killed herself to be here. She had killed the girl she had once been. She had killed the daughter she had been, the Mandalorian she had strived to be. She had killed every aspect of herself to be here. She had doomed herself for an existence she hated.

She had thrown away every effort momentarily for a single kiss. A kiss that represented every rule she had broken and every cursed moment she had reveled in. She had stained everything she had ever done and ruined every legacy she had hoped to leave. Dedicated Acolyte, faithful servant. Two more facets of herself slain by selfishness.

"It is only a day's flight back to Coruscant. I will care for you until then. When you arrive, I shall recommend more permanent treatment." The voice she had heard before spoke again, and Ailani was certain now that it was a medical droid and she was indeed being evacuated.

Ailani nodded uncomprehendingly, not knowing if the droid could see her on the cameras or if it even cared for her acknowledgment.

Treatment.

No treatment could fix what she had done. No machine could heal what she had broken. The Code's core rule, and she had shattered it. The Council's hope for her future and she had rejected it. Her parents' last wish, their last hope for her, and she had scorned it.

Deep from Ailani's mind came a word, a disgraceful word, a horrid word with a horrid meaning. A mocking title, a foolish wearer. A word perfect for how she felt now.

Dar'jetii. No longer Jedi. No longer worthy of representing the Order. No longer worthy of the honor.

One who has lost their way.

#ailani réillata #begged and borrowed time #writings #I heard it was Valentine’s Day….

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