#ahsoka out there beating up everyone
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Vader yelling at the inquisitors after Ahsoka beat them up without breaking a sweat:
Vader: You insignificant useless imbeciles! You couldn’t beat two poorly trained Jedi, when there were two of you and a entire legion of storm troopers?!
Seventh sister: But my lord, Ahsoka Tano appeared out of a shining beam of light and destroyed us. It’s well known she’s been trained by-
Vader: [Chuckles]
Seventh sister and Fifth brother: ?????
Vader still laughing: That’s my girl. You two stood no chance. Surprised you even survived lmfao.
Seventh sister and Fifth brother:
Seventh sister and Fifth brother: . . .
#darth vader#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#seventh sister#fifth brother#vader and ahsoka#anakin and ahsoka#anakin is such a dad#ahsoka out there beating up everyone#we love our child soilder who had to become op through difficult training to survive all the truama#vader out there wiping his non existent tears at how cool he raised her to be#he’s also very proud at the drematic skywalker entrance he pulled#star wars the clone wars#star wars rebels#the clone wars incorrect quotes#star wars incorrect quotes#also get ahsoka some therapy man
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Sun-hearted
[ao3] Anakin Skywalker is not human. The people around him try not to think about it.
----
Shmi had always known her son wasn’t like her.
At first, she had assumed that the pregnancy had simply happened without her knowledge. Or that perhaps her mind had blocked out the event — a slave knew better than anyone how the brain killed the past to protect the present, to keep you surviving.
But the more she tried to dig up the memory-that-wasn’t-there, the more she ran through scenarios, the more she realised that nothing that made sense. If it had been… any of her theories, she would have known, there would have been evidence, Watto wouldn’t have been so angry when he found out. Eventually, she realised she had to give up logic alltogether. Anakin’s father was not something knowable to her. He (it?) had been something else. Something impossible.
A miracle.
The theory only grew more convincing as her pregnancy progressed. She began to sense things no human should have been able to. Objects falling before they’d even been knocked. Watto’s bad mood from two rooms away. Her baby’s strong soul, loudly proclaiming it would be a survivor.
She held her new sixth sense dear for those nine months she had it — but not as dearly as she held her baby boy, to whom the sense really belonged. Her darling miracle baby boy, who always knew too much too soon, who read intentions as easily as he read schematics, and whose quick hands and quicker mind did the impossible on Boonta Eve.
Slaves were supposed to cling to their miracles, so few and far between as they were. But a mother was supposed to do what was best for her son, and Anakin was her boy above all else. She let him go, hoping the Jedi would understand and care for his impossibility better than she ever could.
(And as Shmi died, she did not need Anakin’s sixth sense to feel the anger running through his miracle veins. She did not need it to know what would happen next, either.
She knew with all the certainty her slow-beating heart had that her son’s grief would raze the galaxy to ash.)
—
Obi-Wan knew Anakin didn’t fit in with the other younglings and padawans.
He wanted to believe it was just because of the boy’s upbringing, that it was only because he’d grown up in a much crueler, realer world to the others. Or perhaps it was because Anakin was already a padawan or because of how annoyingly easily it was for him to call the Force. Maybe they just heard the Council had tried to reject him. There seemed to be a few hundred thousand reasons that the children of the Temple would consider him an outsider — but one stood out like a sore and mythical thumb.
There was no Chosen One or such thing as a child born of the Force. There was certainly no chance that the other children (even the ones who tried to accept Anakin with open arms) could sense otherness in his blood. He was just like any other Jedi, if a little more reckless.
As Anakin and the other padawans grew, they grew together. He became like well-sewn patch on an old shirt — the difference was there, yes, but only noticeable if you were really looking. It was better for everyone if Obi-Wan stopped looking for the gap, so he did.
Anakin had never seemed to notice it, anyway.
(And as he watched Anakin’s slaughter of the Temple, the hot drowning of dread and horror and nausea was joined by a cold, parasitic realisation. The gap between Anakin and the other Jedi had never grown smaller; Obi-Wan had only grown more blind.
Jedi were taught from a young age that they could not hold or control the Force, that they were to let it flow freely else they would face the consequences. Obi-Wan had been a fool to think that something made of one half Force and one half heartbreak could be held any more than its parent.)
—
Anakin grinned, and Ahsoka felt every clone in the hangar’s mood lift. Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile in return — and then he cracked a joke, and the worry and grief of the battle became a distant, shrouded memory.
It always went like this. They came back from the latest campaign dirtied, injured, and with a tiredness that ached into their very bones. They all wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep and mourn and not talk to anyone for several hours. But then Anakin — still riding the high of a good fight — would clap Ahsoka on the shoulder, make a stupid comment to Rex, and everything would feel fine. Better than fine even.
Morale seemed so reliant on him that if her master was angry or sad or upset, so was the entire ship. When he was in a mood, meditation became impossible, no matter how at peace Ahsoka felt. She once considered that it was more than just moral, more than just his stupid jokes, but she had grown up in the Temple, raised on lessons of a Jedi’s few limits. A single man could not project his emotions onto an army.
Anakin just had a friendly smile, was all.
(And when Maul told her — warned her — of what her master would become, she did not listen. She could not listen. She thought only of his grin, and the sunny sureness in her chest that always accompanied it.
And so she fought for it again.)
—
Rex knew, theoretically, that General Skywalker was human.
He’d seen enough medical scans from Kix (on the unusual occasion that the general submitted to care) to know that Skywalker’s biology was just like any natborn human’s. He didn’t have strange-coloured blood or an extra eye and all his (mostly-intact) organs were in the right places. The records showed that he was completely, one-hundred-percent human.
Theoretically, this made complete sense.
And it made sense he would seem slightly off. Rex had spent the first decade of his life surrounded entirely by his brothers and Kaminoan scientists; his idea of a ‘normal’ person was someone who looked and sounded identical to him, not a tall, barely-tanned Tatooinian with the wrong accent. Even if it hadn’t been, Rex knew Jedi were different from your average natborn. They could do all these crazy things that belonged in storybooks and myths, not the battlefield. Swaying people, moving objects (or clone captains) with their minds, seeing the future — if Rex hadn’t been trained to do so, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it.
But if being a Jedi had been the reason, wouldn’t Rex have noticed the same thing with Commander Tano or General Kenobi? He understood that maybe Commander Tano wasn’t old enough to develop whatever it was General Skywalker had — but Kenobi was older, more trained in the Force. Surely Rex would have noticed the same thing, that same surely-not-quite-human feeling with him?
Maybe he just spent too much time around the General. Maybe this thinking was just a part of having a good natborn friend.
He hoped it was, at least.
(And when Rex heard of the attack on the Temple, he understood his hope was for naught.
He and his brothers weren’t an isolated incident, he knew; Ahsoka had felt the deaths across the galaxy. He had no doubt the clones on the battlefield cut down their generals — who trusted them like they trusted their own right hand, who stood alone in front of a one-thousand strong army — with an alarming ease.
But he heard reports of the Temple, of blue-painted clones massacring all there, and knew they couldn’t have done it alone. Only one Jedi was strong enough to take on a Temple of their own kind and win.)
—
Padmé wondered if her husband was made from the stars themselves.
It seemed like the only explanation, sometimes. How could anything mortal be so beautiful? How could anything born on solid ground hold that much love in its heart? He was impossible. He looked her in the eye and saw right through every mask she wore, saw that all she was at the core was an overworked girl from Naboo — and still beamed like she was the most perfect thing in the galaxy. He loved her for who she was, not what she could do for him nor for the stature of Amidala. That seemed rarer than stardust.
She would see him and her breath would catch with something that had to be more than love. He stood by the window and stared into the Coruscanti night like he could hear every thought in the city-planet, his golden-brown hair catching the edges of the hundred-colour lights. She ought to walk up to him, hold him, tell him she loves him and pepper him with kisses — but all she could do was stare. In those moments, he was perfect and divine, and she could not interrupt them with her mortality.
(And as Padmé lay dying, her life force dragged out by some dark presence, she thought of her star-husband. And she thought of the refugees she had once helped when their sun imploded. It should have been a lesson learnt; stars were beautiful in the night sky, warm in the summer, but dangerous. Able to end entire planets in their own cosmic pain.
Some small part of her knew this when she first said I love you. But she could not listen. She saw only the star-beauty in his eyes and all the love he held in his sun-heart.)
—
Anakin Skywalker had long questioned whether he was human or not.
But as Darth Vader looked down at his mechanical hands, heard his pressurised breathing, and ignored the pain that followed his every half-sedated movement, he found his humanity was no longer a question.
#anakin skywalker#shmi skywalker#obi wan kenobi#ahsoka tano#captain rex#padme amidala#star wars#fic#total write forever
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Green-Eyed Monster (Ezra Bridger / Reader)
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Ezra Bridger/Reader
Summary:
“ Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.
Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.
While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.”
Reader gets reunited with Ezra after ten years all while tormented by the thought that Sabine would be a better fit for him.
Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack. Spoilers for Ahsoka Season 1.
Word Count: 7,962
Expected Reading Time: 28:57
Jealousy. There’s a horrible feeling deep in your very bones that rakes a claw down your being. You can feel every deep gash clearly as you scowl at the bottom of your tea. Your fingers curl and uncurl against the handle of the mug as Sabine chatters with Ahsoka.
Huyang turns his mechanic head towards you from the pilot seat and Ahsoka glances your way as if sensing your turmoil from the force, but Sabine remains oblivious. Once more, everyone can sense your emotions except the very target of your ire. You bury your anger as you take a long sip of the tea and let the liquid burn your tongue.
It’s been ten years since you lost Ezra and you still can’t manage to reel in the jealousy you feel towards Sabine. She’s an old friend, someone you trust implicitly, and yet the ugly green eyed monster rears its head every time she’s near.
Ever since you were kids, you envied her. She was an old friend from your imperial academy days and seemed to be better than you even then. She was born to high ranked Mandalorian parents whereas you were born the youngest to farmers in a backwater planet. She climbed up high in the academy and won awards while you hid in her shadow and merely fulfilled requirements. She was scouted by Hera and the rebels while you simply tagged along for the ride.
And she was the person that Ezra originally had a crush on while you watched painfully from the sidelines.
Ten years ago, you had fallen in love with someone you thought you could never have. One Ezra Bridger had won you over and crushed your heart without meaning to. While you had pined for him in the background, he had pined over Sabine. You had watched it all happen while cursing yourself for yet again not being as great as her.
Even after a miracle had happened and Ezra’s sights had turned to you, you had still felt jealousy towards Sabine. While Ezra had reassured you that he liked you and made you his girlfriend, you had still harbored some resentment towards your oldest friend. There had always been a little voice inside your head that had taunted you with the knowledge that Ezra was only yours because Sabine hadn’t wanted him. That you had been a consolation prize and second best.
Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.
Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.
While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.
For years, she had tried to get you on her side. She had told you to not give up hope and to help her find Ezra, yet you had pushed her away. Your grief and heartache were easier to manage if you told yourself Ezra was gone for good. As much as it pained you, you gave up all hope and harshly rebuked Sabine for still clinging to the idea of him returning. Anything to kill the last shreds of hope that remained within you before time could do it for you.
You had, had a massive falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. Not until Hera had commed you with Ahsoka and told you to return to Lothal because of a lead Ahsoka had about Thrawn.
Thrawn, Hera claimed, was the key to finding Ezra. The two of them had disappeared together. If one of them was rumored to be alive, the other might be too.
You had come back to Lothal after much trepidation and reunited with Sabine. To her credit, she had accepted you back into her group even if things between you were awkward and strained.
Still, being back near her and reopening the wound of Ezra’s disappearance had brought back a decade worth of insecurity and envy.
The tea burns down your throat as you finish it off. You wish Ashoka had packed something stronger. Were you back home, you would have loved to drink until the edge wore off.
Stuck in a ship with Sabine though, you bite your lip.
It truly isn’t fair, you know. Sabine was your oldest friend. You had met at the imperial academy and struck a friendship. You both had joined the empire as a way to rise in rank for your families, and both had seen past the gilded veneer of fascism. Once upon a time, you two regarded each other as sisters and you made quite the trio with Ketsu-
But fate had driven a wedge between you.
You had fallen for someone who liked Sabine at the time and always felt second best. That jealousy had torn you to shreds and created a wall between the two of you. You aren’t sure how to manage it and the thought stings.
The call of your name brings you out of your thoughts. Sabine remains unaware of the darkness coiling inside you and calls for you to look over something. She’s brought her research with her and has been pouring over diagrams that she thinks could help in the hunt for Ezra.
You wander over to her side and pretend to make sense of the mess of lines and circles she’s drawn on a holomap. Ahsoka eyes you wearily as Sabine talks and you suppress the urge to clench your fists.
“No, I’ve never seen this galaxy either,” you murmur. Your eyes don’t even gaze at the map Sabine is pointing at. Your mind is miles away running from you and the horrible pit in your stomach that grows with every second.
Guilt and jealousy swirl within you. You are angry. Furious even. Angry at Sabine for dragging you back in the hopes of finding a man you love that you’ve tried hard to get over. Angry at the force for tearing Ezra away from you-
And angry at yourself for yet again being weaker than Sabine.
Sabine had never given up. While you had run from Lothal and tried hard to forget your childhood sweetheart, Sabine had remained steadfast. It was she who had unlocked the map coordinates while you had stared at that damn ball for hours until your head hurt and your eyes had turned red. It was Sabine who could think of a million different ways to continue the hunt while you could barely keep yourself from screaming.
In every way that counted, in every Maker’s damned one sided competition, she had always been ahead.
“Can you read this for me-?“
Sabine reaches past you to click on a screen. Projections of documents appear before you all with the names of different galaxies and star maps. You clench your jaw as you notice all the notes she’s taken over each document. She’s been at it for years, no doubt, always searching. Never giving up. Unlike you-
The one person that should have never given up on Ezra. The one who had sworn to love him forever, the one who had dreamed of marrying him, the one who should have been fighting from the beginning to find him-
Ahsoka’s hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head and find her gaze on you.
“Perhaps Huyang should look over the information instead. He can process it faster,” Ahsoka tells Sabine.
Huyang accepts the assignment and takes the tablet from Sabine. Sabine hardly notices the way you glare in her direction.
“Are you feeling alright?” Ahsoka questions. Her tone is gentle yet firm. Concerned for your feelings yet weary of the darkness inside you.
Briefly, you remember Kanan and Ezra discussing the force. Mentioning how they could sometimes sense emotions and tell when people were struggling. You’re sure Ahsoka has noticed how you flicker between rage and heartbreak over and over again.
You aren’t sure whether you should apologize or thank her for interceding. Had she not stepped in, you think you might have snapped and started screaming at Sabine to leave you alone.
“Fine,” you whisper back.
You certainly don’t feel fine and the lie tastes bitter in your mouth, but you shrug away her arm. Murmuring something about needing a break, you move past the group and disappear into another room of the ship.
Huyang’s workshop is tidy and neatly organized. You take stock of every lightsaber piece as your fingers trace every groove and indent.
To add further insult to injury, you don’t have possession of Ezra’s lightsaber either. You had, had it once right after Lothal had been freed but had surrendered it to Sabine on Ahsoka’s suggestion. When Ahsoka had decided to train Sabine as a Jedi over you, you had silently handed over the last remnant of the boy you loved and stormed off broken and bitter.
The lightsaber pieces around you are each different. You don’t see anything that resembles Ezra’s pieces anywhere. After a while, you end up just sliding into an empty seat and your head falls into your hands.
Everything is utterly in disarray. Your mind races with a million thoughts and you’re sure your heart is a pile of jagged pieces each shattered beyond repair.
The truth of the matter is that you know your insecurities are right. Sabine is better than you. At everything.
Had she liked Ezra back years ago, he would have never looked in your direction. The bittersweet memories you had of dating him would have never happened. You would have never been chosen if his first choice hadn’t panned out. Ezra had tried once to tell you that it wasn’t true, that he had genuinely fallen for you and it had nothing to do with Sabine only seeing him as a brother, but you hadn’t believed him.
And now? Now she was definitely better than you.
You had given up. You had once promised Ezra to love him forever yet had believed him dead. You had left Lothal, the planet he had sacrificed everything to protect, and suppressed every memory of him. You had dated around in hopes of forgetting his ghost and tried hard to move on-
All while Sabine had never lost hope. She had always fought for him and looked everywhere. She had never once believed him gone. You had the obligation to search for him as his girlfriend, yet you had failed him. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been truly lost.
The thought makes you want to scream. You grit your teeth tightly until your jaw hurts. If you weren’t so indebted to Sabine for finding a lead, you think you’d want to swing at her. She’s always been better than you. Ezra should have just held out for her all along rather than taking you as a consolation prize.
Feeling suddenly like you’re suffocating, you slam your fist into the control panel to slide open the door. Sabine looks up as you enter and Ahsoka quietly moves to allow you to retake your old seat. You ignore them all as you slide into place and hover your fingers over the tablet.
You need a distraction. Anything to keep the terrible feelings at bay. You slam some keys down until the maps disappear and you’re staring at a blank slate.
Quietly, you bury yourself in your work all the while stewing and boiling with rage.
———————————————
Days later, Sabine’s determination beats you once more. Cornered by Baylan and Shin, you and Sabine are forced to make a choice on what to do. Ashoka is gone and the map is in Sabine’s possession. You two have to decide whether to turn it over to the very people Ahsoka wanted to keep it from or cling to the hope that Ezra can be found.
When Baylan promises to take you both to him, you hesitate. Ahsoka’s words play over and over again in your head. She has long been warning you about what will happen if Thrawn returns. You know she would want you to destroy the map and keep Thrawn in exile forever-
But what about Ezra? Will destroying the map strand him wherever he is forever too? Will you give up your last chance at ever finding him?
Your mind and your heart wage a war. You want desperately to see Ezra again but you remember his sacrifice. You know he’d want to protect the galaxy from the Empire. You don’t know what to do-
In the end, Sabine beats you to it. Better than you in every way, she hands over the map to Baylan. She accepts the terms for you both and tells you to drop your weapon with a calm, clear voice. You both hate her and feel grateful that she’s taken the choice out of your hands.
You let them cuff you and don’t even react when Shin uses the force to cut off your airway. Nothing she could possibly do could hurt more than the ugly feeling of being a disappointment. Once more, Sabine has proven herself a better fit for Ezra than you. Were he to ever find out that you hesitated on this choice, you think he’d leave you once and for all and realize that Sabine has always been better for him.
When you and Sabine face off Thrawn, you hardly pay attention. The villain that plagued you for years hasn’t changed much. His glowing red eyes sweep over you with mild boredom before he directs all his attention at Sabine. He seems genuinely unamused when he realizes Sabine has traded the galaxy for the hope of finding Ezra.
You feel a cold knife twist in your stomach and look away as Sabine faces Thrawn off. There is no hesitation or remorse in her gaze when she coldly tells Thrawn that he could never understand. You wince feeling guilty at the memory of your own hesitation.
It seems like Sabine is the only one completing this journey. When the two of you mount your steeds, it’s her who fights off the bandits. She moves like a lightning strike taking them down while you throw punches and kicks at random barely managing to take down one while she’s got the squad down in moments. When a Noti appears, it’s Sabine who realizes he’s wearing a Jedi symbol on his clothing.
You feel like a shadow merely following her around. Every new revelation and step closer to finding Ezra brings you both joy and envy.
Sabine feels like she’s better suited for the role of Ezra’s partner compared to you. She’s been loyal, determined, and fierce in his search. You, who had a responsibility to find him, had given up. Ezra deserved better than you.
By the time you make it back to Noti’s village, you feel the weight of your own soul crushing you. You feel painfully jealous, angry at yourself, and broken down. You try to ignore Sabine as she urges you forward telling you that something about this particular village feels different.
You’re so downtrodden that you don’t even realize someone is calling your name until you turn your head and hear Sabine’s breath hitch. Time seems to slow down as your eyes meet a striking blue that you haven’t seen in years. Your heart races and you move to run at Ezra-
When Sabine beats you to it.
She all but rushes past you to beat you to Ezra first. Ezra, half way to you, is interrupted as Sabine crashes into him. Her arms wrap around his frame and she buries her head into his neck. He looks like he wants to move to you for a brief moment before he hugs her back and greets her for the first time in ten years.
You hang back awkwardly watching the love of your life embrace someone else. Every hurtful thought you’ve ever heard about not deserving to be at Ezra’s side plays over and over again in your mind. Worse still, you are forced to see how good Sabine looks with Ezra. They click together like puzzle pieces and look perfect. Two halves of the same whole.
A coldness seeps into your very bones. You suppress the tears forming and grit your teeth painfully. If anything, Sabine deserves this moment. She’s the one who found Ezra. You don’t deserve him.
Despite the way it almost kills you to see Sabine steal your moment, you hang back. The ugly insecurities in you taunt and laugh as you watch them. You can’t escape the feeling that you’re an outsider looking in and intruding in a moment that you don’t deserve.
It feels like an eternity when the two of them finally separate. Sabine is smiling wide oblivious to your pain. Slowly, Ezra moves away from her and moves towards you instead. You force yourself to shove aside the familiar jealousy deciding that seeing Ezra again after a decade is worth more than the agony in your chest.
You meet Ezra halfway as he runs. Your own arms wrap around his frame and he all but picks you up to hold you close. He breathes out your name and you’re struck by how different he is.
Your hands shake as you press your palms to his face. He has a beard now, his cheeks are thin, no doubt from the lack of food, and there’s a certain maturity in his eyes that wasn’t there before-
But he’s Ezra.
Tears spill before you can stop them. His fingers wipe them away gently and his smile is bright. He says your name again like a sacred prayer.
“You’re alive,” you whisper. It’s the only sentence that you can form past the haze. Everything feels so surreal.
Ezra stands in front of you. The love of your life. The boy that had won you over ten years ago and never once let you go-
The one a part of you isn’t sure you deserve.
Ezra presses his forehead against yours. A familiar little habit he had back from when you were kids. A way to soothe you and reassure you that everything is going to be okay-
A sob breaks past your lips at the familiar action and you busy yourself burying your head in his chest. He holds you tighter to him. Underneath your palms, his heart races.
For a moment, every insecurity stops. The cold words you tell yourself over and over again in your head quiet for just this one moment. A sense of peace fills you and everything makes sense. For just a moment, all of the pain of the last decade goes away.
Ezra moves his head forward like he’s going to kiss you. He seems hesitant, unsure if he still has the right after a decade, and you want to meet him halfway-
But then Sabine interrupts the moment. She’s being herded by a Noti away and another one chirps out a different language to Ezra. You suddenly remember where you are you and draw back too fast. It feels maddening to separate from him after losing him for so long, but you think it’s better this way. It’s not like you deserve to kiss him after everything you’ve done.
The loss of him hurts like an open wound. You miss holding him. After ten years, you had given up hope of ever having that chance. It feels so cruel to lose it now-
And of course Sabine had to ruin this moment too. She’s always ruined everything for you. Perhaps she’s finally realized her feelings for Ezra and how better she is for him than you.
Your blood feels cold as you watch her grab his arm. She links their arms together and begins speaking. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before a Noti grabs your own arm to tug you forward. You are forced to trail after them feeling like a third wheel among their partnership. Something you’ve tended to always feel when the three of you are together.
They form a good team. It looks entirely natural for the two of them to be together. Sabine just makes sense at his side. She’s saved him after you’d given up, always been beside him throughout your time together as members of the Ghost, and was the first person he was ever interested in. It makes perfect sense for her to be the one with him.
A painful lump forms in your throat and you wave away the Noti’s concern when it curiously looks up at you. You trail silently through the village as Ezra begins to explain everything.
He tells you and Sabine pieces of his time here. He tells you how he and Thrawn made it here, how he ran from Thrawn and found the Noti by chance, and how he’s spent time with them since. They’re a peaceful people and have welcomed him into their ranks. He accompanies them on their travels, but he’s ready to come home.
He smiles at you both as he thanks you for coming back for him. He can’t wait to return to your galaxy and see Hera, Zeb, and Chopper.
Guilt grips you tightly. You don’t have the courage to admit that you had thought him lost. Had it not been for Sabine, he would have remained on this forsaken planet forever.
A coward to the end, you bite your tongue and hesitate at his words. When Ezra tries to move towards you, hand shyly reaching for your own, you move away as if his touch burns. You don’t think you deserve his gratefulness. Not with how awful you’ve been all these years.
It’s almost a relief when Sabine takes over. As much as it pains you to see her slowly replace you, you know you deserve it.
Before Ezra can ask you what’s wrong, you turn away and pretend to be busy with a Noti who is patching up something to the far side of the village. You turn your back on Sabine and Ezra and remain rigid as they walk away. Ezra keeps glancing back at you from time to time while Sabine urges him along to discuss things with him.
By the time they’re finally gone, you wander off further from the village and then promptly bury your head in your hands. The last of your strength leaves you and you sink to the ground below. The pain you’ve been suppressing returns in waves and you give in to the horrible voices that tell you what a terrible person you are and how you don’t deserve Ezra.
———————————————
By the time the sun sets, you’re a ticking time bomb. You’ve spent a long time wallowing in self pity. Everything aches as you make the trek back to the village.
The Noti are tiny, so it’s not hard to spot Sabine and Ezra. Ezra is holding something by the fire while Sabine messes with her vambrace. She seemingly hasn’t told Ezra about how the two of you are stuck here and how Ahsoka is dead.
When you get back, both of their attention is turned towards you. Ezra lights up and waves you over. He means to let you sit with them, but you quickly note that there’s no room. The Noti are half your size and don’t use large spaces. The log Ezra and Sabine sit at is out of room. You have no place beside Ezra with Sabine there.
Suppressing a grimace, you elect to remain standing.
“What are you two up to?” You ask. Your voice sounds colder than you intended, bitter.
Ezra looks at you and you evade his gaze. There’s something deep in his eyes that you don’t want to dwell too long on. He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You have a feeling you aren’t who he remembers.
Good.
Maybe if he no longer recognizes you, he can give you a clean break. It’s become very apparent that you no longer belong at his side. Perhaps if he realizes he made a mistake in choosing you once upon a time, he can find someone better. The sooner he moves on the sooner you can kill what’s left of your broken heart.
Sabine is the one who answers. You’re quite frankly sick of her by then.
“I was telling Ezra everything’s that’s happened since he’s been gone. The Empire, Lothal, everything,” she responds.
Ezra awkwardly nods at her words. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Idly you wonder if Sabine has told Ezra how terrible you’ve been. Wonder if he knows you had given up on the hope of ever seeing him and tried to move on. Is that why he can’t seem to look at you anymore?
Anger and pain throb in your chest. You squeeze your jaw together.
The rest of the night passes far too quickly. Ezra and Sabine chat until the embers of the fire die down. You respond only when necessary and keep your remarks short.
Every once in a while, you think you see Ezra stealing glances at you but you ignore him.
It feels like you’re having a terrible out of body experience. You’re so close to him, finally after mourning him for a decade, yet you know you have no right to rejoice at finding him. The guilt and jealousy you feel outweigh everything else.
It’s a mercy when the Noti begin to prepare to sleep. They offer the perfect excuse for the night to finally come to a close.
Ezra stands up and runs a hand through his hair.
“I sleep in the big room over there. It’s as human sized as you can get here. You both look exhausted. The journey here couldn’t have been easy. Why don’t you both take it? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept outside with the Noti,” Ezra offers.
“We can’t take your place-“
“I insist,” Ezra interrupts Sabine, “I’m used to camping out. The Noti constantly move from place to place seeking shelter so sometimes we have to rough it on the ground. It’s nothing unusual. You both can take it.”
Sabine glances at you with a nod of her head.
“Is that alright with you? You wanna share that tent with
me?” She asks.
Both Ezra and Sabine seem to be very interested in your answer. Ezra searches your face for something. You think there’s a question he’s longing to ask, something he’s dying to know, but he can’t bring himself to say it. It seems like he’s too afraid of whatever he thinks he’ll find or won’t find.
Truthfully, you don’t have the patience to speculate on what the two of them are trying to find out. It’s been a long day and you’ve suffered enough already.
You shrug, “Fine.”
A one word response. Sabine blinks and Ezra winces. There’s almost a flash of pain in his gaze before he looks away. You highly suspect that whatever test has just transpired, you’ve failed.
Sabine shares a glance with Ezra. You try to ignore the way the knife in your heart twists to see them communicate silently. Years apart and yet they seem to still know each other well enough to talk through simple glances and looks.
It’s all too much. You spin on your heel and march off mumbling some excuse about being exhausted.
Inside the metal tent, you close your eyes and count to ten. There’s a roar in your ears and a headache forming at the very back of your skull. You aren’t sure how much more this you can take. Already, it feels like you’re hitting a boiling point.
Everything feels terrible. The jealousy, the heartbreak, the anger, the guilt. All of it is becoming too much.
By the time Sabine returns, you’re at your limit. You don’t even flinch when she waves a hand in front of your face to test if you’re paying attention.
“What’s wrong?” She sounds concerned as she peers down at you, “You’ve been out of it all day. I thought you’d be really happy. I mean, we found Ezra-“
A scoff breaks out before you can stop it. You hate that she’s using the word “we.”There is no “we” here. It’s all her. It’s always been her. She’s the hero who saved Ezra. You’re the terrible ex girlfriend that abandoned him.
“I’m just tired,” you shrug. It’s a weak lie. She doesn’t seem to buy it as she presses you more.
“You’re not acting okay. I didn’t think you’d want to share a room with me. I thought you’d make an excuse to get out of it.”
Your eyes roll. She stops and stares at you as if finally realizing just how angry you are.
By now, the pain is cooling to anger. There’s a rage vibrating deep within you towards her. You’d love nothing more than to shut her up once and for all.
She calls your name with a frown. Concern and frustration are evident in her face.
“Seriously, is everything okay? Ezra wanted you to stay with him outside. He was waiting for you to ask to stay with him-“
“Well, didn’t you want to stay with him? You should have volunteered,” you tug angrily at your jacket. The fury is burning you from the inside. You feel like a star about to combust. It takes all of your strength to remain composed.
Sabine has the gall to look confused. She makes a face like she doesn’t get it. You aren’t sure whether she’s being coy or if she’s just dying to hear you spell it out to her.
“What are you talking about?” She moves to grab your arm. Perhaps she wants you to face her and explain why you’re suddenly so angry, “You hurt him, you know. He doesn’t know where he stands with you. You haven’t spoken to him or made a move. He’s scared you’ve moved on-“
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll comfort him. You’ve been much better for him than me,” you bite.
Again, there’s a moment of confusion. By now, Sabine herself is growing frustrated with your attitude. It seems she can’t wrap her head around why you’re so upset.
“What is wrong with you? Seriously. You finally get Ezra back and you just ice him out-“
Something snaps. The anger you’ve been suppressing spills forward like a dam. Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you’re shoving her as hard as you can away from you. There’s a sense of satisfaction in the way you take her by surprise. She’s much stronger than you, yet you manage to make her slam into the metal walls. Her armor makes a satisfying thud when it collides against them.
“Oh, shut up, Sabine!”
You move to shove her again, rage boiling over.
It’s all too much. Every negative emotion you’ve been feeling since Sabine unlocked the map where you failed has spilled over. You feel like a bomb exploding. You aren’t a violent person, yet you find yourself pushing her again.
This time, she’s ready for you. Her eyes are wide and there’s shock in her voice when she calls your name. She grabs your wrist and twists you around until she’s holding your arms in place. A move you had only ever seen her do on stormtroopers.
“Maker, what’s wrong-?”
Her voice trails off in shock as you shove off her hold. You press your hands to your face feeling adrenaline course through your veins. It burns white hot against your skin. You swear you feel your blood boiling.
“Do you know how sick I am of you?” You jab a finger at the center of her chest plate, “You just have to rub everything in. I get it, alright? I get that you’re better than me. You have always been better at everything. I never stood a chance.”
You back away from her suddenly feeling like you’re boxed in. The anger is coursing red hot but there’s something else there. It’s all consuming and harsh. You feel it practically strangling you.
While you are threatened by Sabine’s presence, some part of you knows it’s not just her that’s causing this outburst. Really, it’s more than that. A part of you is just angry with yourself.
It’s yourself you despise. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been stuck here forever. You had given up on ever finding him. For all your promises of loving him years ago, you had simply given up. He would have never have given up on you.
Spinning around, you press your fists against your eyelids to try and stop the tears forming behind your eyes.
“You found him. I gave up on him,” you whisper. It’s a harsh admission out loud, “You’re better than me. He deserves better. He deserves you.”
Sabine is stunned. She blinks and makes a face like she can’t believe what you just said. You don’t have it in you to explain. The anger is slowly becoming despair. You want nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and die.
“What? I-Do you-Is that what this is about? You think I have feelings for Ezra?” She takes you by the shoulders and holds you steady.
You’re shaking, you realize. Your hands are quivering and your breath is coming out in short pants. A panic attack.
“Don’t you?” You bite the inside of your cheek to quell the rising panic. Your chest feels too tight. It constricts against your clothing, “It’s okay if you do. He’s always liked you. You could make him happier. You didn’t give up on him like I did.”
It hurts to say everything out loud. You don’t think you could survive seeing Sabine with Ezra. It would break whatever remnants of your heart are still working, but you wouldn’t stand in their way. Ezra deserves to be happy and you’re not the person that can give that to him. If Sabine can, then she should. It would break you, but you deserve it. An atonement for your sins.
Sabine calls out your name. She pulls your arms away from your face and shakes her head firmly. She looks stunned and hurt. She’s hurt by your words.
“I don’t like Ezra romantically. He’s a brother to me. That’s it. He loves you-“
You close your eyes against the rising panic. It takes all your willpower to remember how to breathe. It feels like something has gotten a hold of your body. You feel everything mounting until it bursts. Emotions and words pour out of you. You aren’t sure just what you’re saying. Everything feels like it’s happening far away.
“He had a crush on you first. He didn’t even look at me until he realized you weren’t interested. I always knew I was his second choice. I was always so angry with you. You two spent so much time together. I was always just counting the days until he left me for you. You two just fit together. Ten years later and you two can just go back to being close. I don’t know how I could ever face him knowing that I gave up-“
The feeling of choking returns. You press your hand to your chest feeling like your lungs will give out. There’s a painful squeeze to your heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like-?
Suddenly someone is taking you gently by the shoulders. Familiar hands press against your face cradling you softly. You hear your name whispered in a low voice. You know who it is without even opening your eyes.
Ezra.
“Hey, breathe. Breathe with me,” he whispers. He shows you some deep breaths. His arms hold you in place firmly but not tightly. It’s his way of showing you that he’s here. That you’re not alone.
Slowly you try and copy his breaths. It’s a struggle to do it. It feels like every painful gasp of air you inhale rattles against your lungs. It takes much longer than it should to finally regulate your breathing.
By the time the panic attack is finally underway, you feel exhausted. There’s a heaviness to your body you haven’t felt in a while. You’re shaking as Ezra slowly moves you towards a makeshift bed. He eases you gently into a sitting position. Idly, you realize that Sabine is inching out of the encampment probably wanting to give you and Ezra space to talk.
“Are you okay? Do you need water? A blanket?” Ezra kneels to be eye level with you. His eyes are concerned, scared for you.
It’s not fair. He’s the one who’s been lost for ten years, yet here he is worried about you. You don’t deserve him.
That’s what finally does you in. You begin to sob and press your hands firmly to your face. The tears pour out of you. It’s been a long ten years. Everything just shatters.
In the last decade, you’ve cried more times than you want to admit. Grief has been a friend for ages. You’ve cried until you had nothing more to give, yet this breakdown feels different. There’s a war or emotions pouring out of you. Anger, grief, jealousy, insecurity, pain. They rush over you in waves to the point where you feel like you’re being physically crushed under the weight of them.
Ezra wraps his arms around you and lets you cry against his shoulder. He holds you firmly in place whispering words of encouragement. You don’t deserve it. You weakly fight against his hold.
Words spill forth in a whisper before you even realize half of what you’re saying. There’s just a frantic need to pour everything out. The admissions slip from your tongue without truly registering in your brain. You just need him to understand why he should hate you.
“I gave up on ever finding you. I spent an entire year unable to get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t think. Every little thing reminded me of you. I thought I was going to go insane. Everyone was worried about me. Hera had just had Jacen, yet she was taking care of me instead of her newborn. It felt horrible to worry everyone. At some point, I just had to let you go. I told myself you were dead and mourned you. I needed the closure so I gave up. If you were gone forever, then I could slowly move forward. I didn’t want to but it was breaking me. Thinking that you were out here somewhere was driving me insane.”
Ezra holds you tighter at your admission. You’re not sure but you swear you think you can hear him say he’s sorry. It’s heartbreaking for him to apologize. He’s the one that you’ve wronged.
“I couldn’t move on from you. I tried dating again a few years after you were gone but never made it past the first or second date. Everyone was all wrong. They just weren’t you. I kept telling myself that you were gone and that I should move on, but I couldn’t. I was driving myself crazy with grief. I even had a falling out with Sabine. Sabine kept searching for you. She never stopped. She’s the one who found you. Had it not been for her, you would have been lost forever. She’s better than me. You deserve better,” you force yourself to look at his eyes and are shocked when you see that he’s crying too. You never meant to hurt him but the confessions keep pouring out, “I know you liked her first. You only started dating me because she didn’t like you back. I told myself all these years that, that was okay. I loved you enough to be your second choice. Then these last ten years happened and they made me realize that I don’t deserve you. I gave up on you. She didn’t. She-you both make perfect sense. You just click with each other. She’s a better choice for you. I love you, but I know you’d be happier with her. She was your first choice after all.”
Now that everything is out, you feel tired. You bury your face in his shoulder and feel the way his heart is racing. His body feels tense as he lets all your words sink in.
“What? Do you think I like Sabine?” He sounds stunned. Gently, he pulls you away so that he can look at your eyes.
His eyes are red and there’s tears running down his face. He looks heartbroken. He calls your name softly and his voice cracks.
“You’re not my second choice, Maker. I’ve loved you for over a decade. It’s always been you. I admired Sabine when we were kids, but I always saw her as a sister. That’s all she is. You’re the one I’ve loved all these years. I dreamt of you every night, I tried using the force to find you whenever I meditated, the thought of you has kept me going all these years. It’s you that kept me alive. Any time I wanted to give up, I remembered you and everyone else back home and that kept me going. You were never my second choice. You’ve always been my only love. Always,” his fingers wipe away your tears and his breath stutters, “I thought you’d moved on. You didn’t want to spend time around me. You pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I thought you didn’t care me for me anymore. I was going to accept that. It’s been ten years. You didn’t know I was still alive. If you had moved on and married someone else, I would have never held it against you. Don’t blame yourself for needing to move forward.”
“You wouldn’t have given up on me. Ezra, you would have been lost without Sabine. I thought you were gone.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. Ezra would have never given up hope. He would have kept searching until the very end. You didn’t.
His hold on you tightens.
“Ten years. I was gone for ten years. I don’t blame you for thinking I was dead. Maker, the ship had lost its airlock. I thought I was going to die when we hit hyperspace. You had no way of knowing I was alive. Sabine said you all only thought I was still alive when Ahsoka heard rumors about Thrawn returning. There’s no way anyone could have predicted I was in another galaxy,” he says.
You keep your eyes closed.
The rumors about Thrawn’s return are what had made this entire search possible. You had dropped everything when Hera and Ahsoka had commed you and rushed back to help the search. Sabine was steps ahead of you which hurts to admit, but you had rushed back to help.
Wearily, you think of everything you’ve done so far.
You think of how Ahsoka refused to train you in favor of Sabine because she said you were ‘too attached’ to be open to the force. You think of how you couldn’t open the map and had spent hours turning it every which way until your fingers had cramped and bled trying to pry it open. You remember that terrible moment where Shin and Baylan had you cornered, how they had offered you and Sabine passage to Ezra in exchange for the map. Logic would have had you destroy the map and prevent Thrawn from ever returning. Ahsoka would have wanted it that way, yet you had hesitated too. Your brain had said you needed to destroy it, but your heart had frozen. Destroying it meant never finding Ezra. You had let Sabine take over on that choice and hadn’t protested when she handed the map over. You’re sure now you would have made the same choice albeit not as fast as her.
As if sensing where your thoughts are going, Ezra places his forehead to yours. His way for reassuring you.
“I don’t blame you for anything. I’m sorry I hurt you all these years. If you’ve moved on, I get it. Just please don’t feel guilty you had to think I was dead to survive. Forgive yourself,” he urges.
You snap your eyes open startled.
“Ezra, I’ve never moved on. I love you. I have for all these years. I was just too guilty to express it. Sabine found you. I gave up. You deserve better. The two of you could-“
Suddenly Ezra dives forward. His lips press to yours and he holds you in place tightly. You make a sound of surprise before giving in.
It feels like something between you clicks. The world stops and everything feels so natural as you kiss him back. It’s been ten years since you’ve last been able to hold him. You don’t think you can survive another ten without him. You barely made it through these last few years.
He feels like home. After all the suffering and the self loathing, kissing him feels like everything is falling into place.
After a long kiss that takes your breath away, he withdraws. His breath is a harsh pant. His beard tickles your face as he presses smaller kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You cling to him tighter and take in the feeling of being in his arms again.
“I love you,” he breathes out, “It’s only ever been you. Please don’t say you don’t deserve me. You kept me alive all these years. It’s always been you.”
The last of your energy snaps. You feel so painfully exhausted. You cling to him tightly and let him move you back to the bed. He climbs in next to you and holds you to him as if he’s afraid to let you go.
Everything you’ve been through today makes you feel so tired. You want nothing more than to go to sleep and come back to this tomorrow. You don’t have the energy to keep going today.
Thankfully, Ezra doesn’t withdraw. Instead, he climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close. All of those terrible voices in your head quiet when he presses another kiss to your forehead.
You close your eyes feeling everything fading. The two of you aren’t done discussing this. He still needs to know that you love him too and that you are sorry for everything that’s happened. You also will have to apologize to Sabine tomorrow. It’s not her fault your own insecurities turned against her.
Still, for now, this moment feels like peace.
You curl into his arms and hold him tight the way you used to when you were young. He holds you to him and refuses to let you go. In a low whisper, you tell him you love him. As you drift off, you hear him say it back.
And for the first time in ten years, you finally feel a semblance of peace.
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Well...That Esclated Quickly
Here is another idea that came to me during my walk to work. I want you to know, though it goes in a humorous direction it really is not a full fix-it.
When Order 66 went live, some of the chips did not activate. There is no rhyme nor reason as to which chips activate and which did not. Not a huge amount compared to the whole, but some. Enough that a few hundred Jedi and a Few thousand Clones regroup in the aftermath.
While you can fill in most of the blanks the following are included in my idea
Obi Wan Kenobi and a company’s worth of 212th clones, including Cody: Obi Wan was still shot off the cliff, to the horrified eyes of the still free clones. The still free clones don't have enough numbers to take on their brethren who appear to have gone insane, but do have enough to steal one of the midsized transport ships, one capable of hyperspace flight. They reluctantly allow Obi Wan to go to Coruscant on his own, with the rationale that one person can sneak to the surface much easier than a whole company, while the clones establish a regroup point. From there Obi Wan goes on the Mustafar, which ends as it did in canon. Obi Wan brings Padme to the transport ship where she still dies of complications of her pregnancy
Fox, Hound, a dozen other members of the CG, and the Younglings: Fox and the few members of the CG that were unaffected by O66 raced to beat the 501st to the Temple. They made it just a few minutes before their enslaved brothers. Just barely in time to evacuate the children in the creche with the help (and insistent sacrifice) of the adult Jedi. While there were a few Creche Masters evacuated with the children, it was now basically just Fox and his CG functionally in charge of baby Jedi ranging from Babies to Pre teens. They connect with remains of the 212th before the events of Mustafar.
Yoda, who did still have to kill his commander in order to escape, but was able to bring a few clones with him. They still end up being collected by Bail Organa.
Ahsoka, Rex, Jesse and a portion of the maintenance team for their battalion: They do not meet up with the rest for quite some time (at least three years). Rex’s chip did activate but he was able to get Ahsoka the message about Fives. After Rex is freed they find Jesse and the other free clones (soft shells all) looking on in horror at their controlled brethren. With the help of the maintenance team they are able to escape from the ship without freeing Maul or crashing into the moon. By the time they are able to look past the immediate situation, the Temple is already burning and it has been announced that the Jedi are traitors. These 25 or so go to ground in Mandalorian space and try to figure out how to free the clones from the chips (beyond surgery which really does not work with the numbers they have to deal with). They do not realize anyone else has survived.
Aayla survived, due to one of the clones (not Bly) pushing her out of the way and sacrificing his life for her. Bly’s chip does work. She escapes with two dozen free clones and six chipped clones tied up in the back (Including Bly, even the clones agree they cannot save everyone and hopefully it means that they can figure out what is going wrong).
Shaak Ti, 10 Veteran clones, 40 ‘Shinies’, 300 child and teenage cadets, three junior Kaminoan Scientists (not Nala Se) none of which knew about the chip or Order 66, and Omega. Shaak Ti had been working with a few Kaminoan Scientists to see the clones as sentients in their own right and the reactions of the clones under the chip's control horrified a few of those scientists. Between them and Omega, who had been paying attention and used this as a chance to escape the lab (the Bad Batch being off planet at the time) they were able to evacuate anyone not under the control of the chip.
All of these people (Barring Ahsoka and Co) converge on the ship that had been stolen by the free 212th clones. Had less children survived (about a third of the living Jedi are children under the age of 11, plus the cadets) they all would likely have split into small groups and made their own way through the galaxy. But there was just no way to break into small enough groups to be safe AND still make sure the children (and to some extent the Shinies) were taken care of. They were also too large a group to go anywhere in the Republic, or even anywhere in Mandalorian space (There were an awful lot of uninhabited planets in the galaxy but most were uninhabited for a reason). Thus there was only one thing they could do.
Take over the Hutt Empire.
To be fair the take over part did start out accidentally. The actual goal was to find a place to lay low in the Hutt Empire, possibly the only place Palpatine’s Empire could not reach quite yet(at least until Palpatine solidified his rule).
So they found a planet within the Hutt Empire to lay low on, While Bail Organa left to begin planting the seeds for the rebellion (No Leia as the twins were not being split up). As much as I want it to be Tattoine, it just has too small a population to not have a couple of thousand people (Most of whom hide their very distinctive faces) showing not be noticeable. So they choose a planet with a higher population.
This is where the trouble began. All of our adults are deeply traumatized, trained warriors who are not used to sitting by, universally feeling useless. They are facing an insurmountable task, still mostly directionless, and deeply angry at life.
It starts with the local Hutt’s minions trying to shake down some newcomers, who were not looking for a target to vent their spleen but found one just the same. It does not end well for the minions. Nor the next six attempts, with different groups of Clones and Jedi each time. No one has told Command yet, but they look at each other and ‘shit we can’t keep drawing attention to ourselves but we can’t leave either’
The solution (Commander Cody himself would like to reiterate this was not the correct solution)? Take out the Hutt. Then they realize that taking out the Hutt has just drawn more attention to this city as the other Hutts for the planet try to figure out who took out this one.
The next Solution? Take out the rest of the Hutts on the planet.
They have now drawn even more attention to the planet from yet more Hutts. This is the one thing that is critical they do not have.
The next Solution? Try three to make this plan work (Commander Cody reminds you that trying the same thing over and over again, hoping for different results, is the definition of insanity) and take out the Hutts looking for answers.
By the time that these small groups have admitted to Command (Obi Wan, Cody, Yoda, Shaak Ti, Fox) what is going on, a few months later, they have accidentally taken over the Hutt Empire.
The Hutt Empire that is still nominally allied with Palpatine’s Empire. The Hutt Empire that has to stay allied to Palpatine’s Empire if they do not want to draw the attention of the entire Imperial Forces to the largest concentration of living Jedi and free Clones in the galaxy. The Hutt Empire that no longer has any active Hutts.
In this the human centric leaning of Palpatine’s Empire is actually helpful. They very rarely wanted to deal with other species, so it was easy to appoint someone unknown but human to deal with the com calls and visits. It does mean that they have to make up a Hutt that they essentially have to play ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ with, a couple of times a year when a representative insists on meeting with the Hutt in charge.
Also the fact that Palpatine’s Empire is more interested in enslaving their own citizens for free as opposed to buying them from the Hutts means that they can shut down the slave trade within Hutt Space (over time). Fox both loves and hates running a criminal empire.
It should be noted that, even with Bly and the five other chipped clones, no one actually knows what is going on until Rex and Co find their way back to them. We are going with the thought that a level 5 atomic scan is a ludicrously high level of scanning. Like sitting on a Nuclear Reactor to get an X-Ray kind of ludicrous, so not only does no one think to do that level of scanning to see what is wrong, but they do not even have that kind of equipment readily available. The reports about Fives from Rex never made it to any kind of centralized repository, there is no way to know why most clones suddenly started to kill Jedi. Bly and Co spend the three years before Rex shows up in a makeshift brig, they can function almost normally until a Jedi is brought up or in the room with them.
Bail laughs his ass off when he is told, through several intermediaries and coded messages, that the Jedi and the Clones accidentally took over a criminal empire. Then he starts funneling the Path and the people his rebellion are rescuing into Hutt Space to find the Jedi.
Three years in Rex, Ahsoka, the clones with them (now having grown to nearly another thousand) arrive with the news that they can disable the chips from a distance of about a large cruiser.
That is how the Hutt Empire became freedom fighters.
#star wars#star wars the clone wars#star wars au#obi wan kenobi#fanfiction prompt#anakin skywalker#bamf obi wan#I imagine it is CodyWan though it is not mentioned in this#commander cody#commander fox#Hutts#Accidental Empire#order 66 happened differently
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HIIIIIIIIIIII🫨can I make a request for Anakin x Clone! Fem Reader with an Established Relatioship (particularly married) 🤭where she is switched to Obi Wans Squadron after being apart of Anakin's squadrons for a long time. Anakin isnt too happy about it so he tries to convince the council to keep you on his Battalion but it fails obviously 🙄 so when you come back from a mission he's all over you 🤭🤭
3 Weeks Is Too Long- Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Listen y’all I know they have bunk beds in the barracks but in this imagine everyone has a cabine or a dorm ish type room that they share. But Y/N gets her own room. Cuz you know what the Republic and the Empire did them dirty. They should’ve been given a nicer place to sleep for all the shit they went through. Also this is porn with a plot I’m sorry but also not hehehe. Ummmmmm let me know if you guys want more!
Warnings; There’s a bunch ummmmmmm do I remember all of them no but I will tell you what I do remember, Overstimulation, multiple orgasms, choking if you look hard enough, P in V, fingering, oral (M & F) ummm I think that’s it 😅. If you’re a minor don’t read.
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!!!!
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Anakin had woken up to an empty bed, the blanket covering his waist. His eyes scanned his room, you were already gone. This was a daily routine, but every once in a while he’d hoped you’d stay in bed with him longer. He craved your warmth, he craved your touch, he craved hearing the sound of your heart beat, or the rumble of laughter that echoed in his ears. But all of that came at the price of secrecy and your marriage. The love part was the easiest thing about the situation. Anakin couldn’t complain too much, with you being the only female clone to ever been created, you were stationed with his squadron. For that he was ever grateful for. It meant that you were constantly by his side, he could protect you, care for you and most importantly be with you. Of course it was hard to spend one on one time with him, at least your presence was around him. All he had to do was look at you and be okay.
Anakin had finished getting dressed, clipping his lightsaber onto his belt. Exiting his room heading for the Grand Republic Military Base. Anakin had assumed you’d spend your time preparing for a mission, or conversing with Rex or Ahsoka only if she had beaten him there, you were very close with them. You wouldn’t have it any other way, with them it made time go by faster. That’s what you’d tell Anakin especially when he’s bossy. In those moments he’d look at the three of you and threaten to separate you, in all actuality he enjoyed it too much. He typically takes full advantage of certain situations when Obi Wan is around. Watching his brother figure become a father to all four of you made it that much more special. Telling Anakin that not only is he himself a bad influence but that his own influences influence the three of you to be bad influences. In that exact order. It was something Anakin held near and dear to his heart. Until right now in this moment when he witnessed you carrying your gear out of the 501st section of the military hangar to Obi Wan's 212th section.
You threw your remaining gear onto your starfighter jet. You had worn an all black long sleeve crop top and black leggings that go under your normal clone gear. You were beginning to suit up. Anakin expected to see you in his blue and white colors, instead he was met with a Sandy orange and white. Anakin stormed over to you, Obi Wan nowhere in sight, the other troops minded their business tending to their own preparations.
“ Y/N!” Anakin called out your name, you turned your head in his direction as you strapped on your boots
“ General?” You replied knowing you had listening ears, mainly Ahsoka and Rex who already knew about you and Anakin’s relationship.
“ What do you think you are doing? Why are you wearing Obi Wan's squadron colors?” He asked you, arms crossed, his nose flared, anger. You slide your foot off the box you used to help you strap your boots on. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion.
“ What do you mean why? Didn’t they tell you?” You questioned him, shaking your head as you pulled your protective chest and back plate over your head adjusting it so it fit perfectly before strapping it into place.
“ Tell me what? Who gave you those orders? Was it Obi Wan?” Anakin had become confused, his anger subsided only momentarily. He had mixed emotions, part of him hoped there was a good reason as to why Obi Wan would request you or why the council would put you on his squadron. Either way he didn’t like that you were separate from him. It made him worried, he was so used to having you around him, whether close by or a few clicks away on the battlefield, but never a whole galaxy away.
You were struggling with one of the straps in particular that you were fighting to grab. You heaved an irritated sigh. Your eyes scanned the area making sure no one was around that could see you. You turned around with your back facing Anakin. His own eyes also scanned the perimeter while his hands worked on fastening the straps. He felt your warmth deep through your clothes and into the gear. His heart yearned to be wrapped in your arms, your comfort, to have you close by his side. Again anxiety pierced his chest. His hands stayed on you even after he finished with the straps. He truly didn’t want you to go.
“Thanks and No- General Windu and General Yoda were the ones who gave me the order. They didn’t specify what my role is, for now I am just back up.-” You turned around to face Anakin. “-I’ll be gone for two weeks, three at best. Depending on the circumstances of the mission”
He was furious, his jaw tense and his hands clenched.
“ Two weeks?! That’s too long. I need you here where I can keep my eyes on you! We’ve got our own missions to handle.. I’m going to talk with the council to get them to change their minds-“
“ -Ani I can take care of myself. It's only a couple weeks and it'll be fine. The squadron will be fine without me. You’ll be fine without me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been separated from you. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone-“ You tried to reassure him but there was no reasoning with him.
“ Of course I’m going to notice if you’re gone! They should’ve discussed this with me! What happens if something goes wrong?”
“Woah hold on, nothing is going to happen alright? It’s nothing I haven’t done for you before. I am very capable of doing my job. What’s going on with you?”
“ It's- nothing-You're not going anywhere. I’m going to talk to the council to reconsider and find another soldier to replace you-“ Anakin growled.
“-No it’s not nothing. I am going on this mission, whether you want me to or not. So if you’ll excuse me General Skywalker I’ve got a mission to complete and prepare for” You stormed off walking back towards the direction of your barracks. Sometimes Anakin can be too overprotective and it can get in the way of things. Sometimes it made it difficult to work with one another. Both of your hearts were in the right place but at times it clashed.
Anakin sitting and stirring with his own anger, taking off to the Jedi council chamber. They were going to switch you back to your original post one way or another. He would be damned if you headed off with Obi Wan's squad. Not to say that Obi Wan wouldn’t keep you safe, he could but it was the condition and manner in which you were being taken from him. He didn’t like the fact that the council would move you without notifying him. There was chatter amongst the members of the council.
“ Young Skywalker” Mace Windu announced, all heads turning in their direction. Obi Wan standing in the middle of the room. Anakin joined him.
“ Master Windu, Obi Wan Council” He addressed them as he bowed.
“ To what do we owe the pleasure” Mace asks, hands resting on the arm chair.
“One of my commanding officers is being transported to Master Kenobi's squadron. I’m here to ask you to reconsider.” Anakin slightly looked at Obi Wan who had crossed his arms looking with disapproval. At one point His former master would remind him to stay in control of his emotions.
“ Reconsider we will not” Yoda speaks with his hand crossed on his cane.
“ The decision has been made, Young Skywalker, Obi Wan had requested for a few more reinforcements. Which we are glad to supply him with.”
“ Let me ease your mind Skywalker, your commander is not alone, each squadron is providing one soldier to accompany Obi Wan’s forces” Master Plo places a calmness to his voice, his emotion and his force signature. Anakin’s anger is still bubbling but begins to cool off not quite.
“ I see. I still don’t understand how I was failed to be informed of this decision” Anakin retorts.
“ Anakin” Obi Wan hissed.
“ Right his is, wrong he is not” Yoda nods
“ We failed to inform you simply because it was none of your concern how we moved the troops” Mace replies, the two having their own version of pissing contest to see where it would go.
“ It is my concern when one of my soldiers is placed on another force”
“ The fate of the republic is within our troops. You are asking to pull a soldier out for the sake of keeping a reputation? For what exactly?” kit Fisto asked as he squinted his eyes at Anakin.
Anakin sighed “ I-“
Obi Wan looked at him shaking his head before the council. “ -If you’ll excuse my former padawan I’m afraid he has lost sight of the bigger picture. War tends to side track anyone’s thoughts” Obi Wan was right, it was the same words he had said to Anakin and the same words Anakin said to Ahsoka. It was frustrating but all of it seems to find a way back to Anakin himself. It’s like tasting his own medicine.
“ Of course, thank you for your concern Anakin but our decision will remain the same” Mace nods his head towards, Anakin and Obi Wan dismissing them. Anakin huffed as the two walked out of the council chamber.
“ Anakin”
“ Yes Master”
“ I will take good care of Y/N” Obi Wan knew of your relationship, sure he was a little bit far behind in figuring it out but it was only because he wasn’t ready to admit Anakin’s truth. Anakin stopped in his tracks looking at his dear friend. Obi Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “-No harm will come to her. I promise”.
“ Thank you… Master.” Anakin nodded following his Master's movements in the direction of his starfighter. Regret filled Anakin’s chest the way you two left things off in an argument that he started. It was too late, for him to say goodbye, you would already be on the battle cruiser by now. Obi wan being the last to leave. He supposed he’d now have to wait till you get back.
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Your mission was the longest three weeks of your life, you were supposed to only be there for two weeks but your mission ran a little longer. To be honest you expected that at least. When you had left you were angry and you wanted to make Anakin feel your loss. As the weeks grew on you found yourself yearning for his bed, sleeping next to him, his snide remarks and his overconfidence. You missed your friends, you missed your squad, you missed the food that you would get at the Cafeteria. Rations only got you so far. You were homesick so to speak.
You had arrived home three hours ago, you had taken off all your gear just leaving you in your black long sleeve top and black leggings. You carried your gear into your room which was one good thing you enjoyed about being the only female clone. You threw your items in the places they belonged heading back over to the Hangar. It was nearing nightfall, most clones had either gone to the cantina or to a club. The rest would be stationed in their barracks, sleeping or doing another form of activity that involved heavy breathing and sweat. You sighed. You walked over to supply area grabbing items to help break down and rebuild a separatist droid's head. You needed the battle plans and you promised Obi Wan you’d get it back to him ASAP.
Ahsoka was kind enough to bring you a few snacks from the cafeteria, you weren’t really hungry, rather you were anxiously waiting in your room for Anakin to arrive. Unfortunately Ahsoka was the one to break the bad news to you, that Anakin was going to be extremely late, hence nightfall. You were worried Anakin might not have wanted to see you because of the move between squads but the bigger part of you thought maybe not. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him. You held the spoon in your mouth as you sucked on the chocolate pudding. You fingers typed away on the data pad as you connected to the Droid's hardware. Wires were attached to both ends of the droid's head and too your data pad. This was good you needed a distraction, half the entire 212th squad and 501st squad went out for drinks which meant that your barracks and your hall where your room was stationed was clear. You turned on some good music to help keep you distracted from Anakin and while you worked.
Anakin on the other hand was dying during the briefing. He could feel your presence nearby and it was driving him mad. He wanted to be with you and not in this-meeting. Sure Obi Wan is going over important details but Anakin’s mind refused to let him comprehend anything. His hands fisted his pants, his leg bouncing up and down. By now Anakin was counting down the minutes till he could escape. It was starting to feel like he would never leave. He was desperate for you, wanting, needing-What he needed was a plan to excuse himself. Anakin began to concoct a plan, he checked the exits of the meeting hall, he checked the alarm system , and a feebale excuse of ‘I need to use the restroom’ should suffice. Thankfully the meeting ended sooner rather than later giving him a chance to opt out of his extreme ditching plans. He took off quickly, not giving anyone a chance to stop him from getting to you.
Anakin practically ran from the Jedi temple all the way to the Republic Military Base. He had no intention of stopping till he could get to you. He could feel the anxiety and the nerves emitted from you. Normally you were calm, warm, relaxed, something was bothering you. It could’ve been the delay from meeting each other or the argument that took place three weeks ago. You two hadn’t really had the chance to talk about it. Now it was Anakin’s turn to feel the same anxiety and worry. Yet he refused, he just needed to see you, then everything will be alright. When Anakin reached the hangar, he didn’t see you, your star fighter vacant, he followed the path of your presence leading him back to your room. Anakin slowed down from a sprint, to a jog all the way down to a brisk walk. As soon as he reached your door, he opened it, there he found you, with your hair haloing around your head naturally, you were standing about the droid turning its head every other direction, then typing on the data pad. It was when you heard the sound of Anakin’s footsteps taking a step closer did you realize he was in there with you.
Reality finally setting in your heart pounded in your chest, relief flushing through your body. The worry and anxiousness evaporated from you. Your husband stood there breathing heavily, taking a step in your direction. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, Anakin couldn’t wait a second longer.
“ Ani-I’m-“
He rushed to you, taking your face into his hands, his lips crashing down on yours. You both moved together, twisting your heads to deepen the kiss. Your tongues fighting against each other, the air leaving both of your lungs. Anakin’s hands found themselves lazily cupping your neck and jaw. Your hands grasped at his clothes near his hips holding onto him. His fingers eventually left your jaw and neck traveling into your hair. Your kisses changed pace, turning from rushed to languid and slow. You both pulled away from each other slightly, Anakin’s hands slid down from your neck and to your waist. His fingers dip under your top. Your hand moved upwards wrapping themselves around his neck. Both of your breathing matching, “ Don’t apologize. I'm sorry for not trusting you to handle yourself. Or the council.”
“I should’ve told you regardless if the council told you or not. But Ani, I need you to trust me enough to do my job and to love you.” You completely moved away from Anakin and walked to the other side of the room towards the bed. He sighed as he watched you moving to the side of the room near the bathroom right directly across from you. He leaned against the wall his arms across his chest. Maker, he looked sooo good and inviting. You wanted to cart your fingers through his hair, scrape your nails along his body. You want to leave marks on him just as much as he wanted to do it to you. You wanted him to hold you, you wanted to hold him-No you needed to get something off your chest first. Anakin was struggling himself after sharing that heated kiss with you, he wanted you more than anything else. You looked tempting, your hair messy from his fingers, your lips plump from the harsh and languid kisses. Your body was buzzing, he could feel it. You were distracted but you were trying to stay focused..
“ I do trust you.-” He says softly, Anakin remains in his spot, his eyes following you as you pace. You stopped in place standing in front of him. “ What I don’t trust is the war”
“ War is war, Anakin. You of all people know that. We both have jobs that involve us leaving for a certain amount of time. If anything you're a Jedi and I should be more pissed at you for leaving all the time.” Anakin removed himself from the wall taking a step another step in your direction. His face softens as he grabs your waist with his hands pulling you impossibly close. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. His eyes flicker between yours, love flowing between the two of you, heat and passion beginning to take form. He nods his head gently as he leans closer to you.
“ You’re right I tend to leave far more often than you do-“ He sighs, his hands caressing your hips as he backs you slowly up against the wall. “- My wife finally returned home after three long weeks of hard work. Home to her husband who can be overprotective at times… Who missed her more than life itself-” His nose bumps into yours, tension rising between you, your breathing picks up. His eyes half closed, yours following suit.
“ Fuck it, we can talk about this later, I missed you so much Ani” You moaned pulling him down to you, your lips colliding in a heated frenzy.
“-Good-Idea-“ Anakin replied between kisses as he grabbed at your clothes pulling them off of you. Anakin wasted no time in getting you bare and in front of him. Your hands gripped at Anakin’s clothing trying to get them off of him. Jedi clothing was-annoying and frustrating, the need for Anakin becoming overwhelming to the point his clothes were pissing you off. Anakin paid no mind, as he was too concentrated on you, feeling you, caressing you, touching you. His love for you was incredibly unconditional. Anakin’s hands were back on you, cupping your jaw, head twisting as your lips crashed into each other taking one another in. You pulled away again trying to get Anakin’s clothes off. You moaned and groaned at the same time feeling sexually aroused and flustered. Your fingers struggle to get through the first layer. Anakin however was unbothered by it and could care less if his clothes were on or off he just wanted you. He continues his trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw, and to your throat.
“ Do-you-have-to-have so many layers” you whined as you were able to pull off one layer before getting to the next. Anakin too focused on attaching his lips to yours, too focused on you.
“ I’m a Jedi Y/N. It's required to wear this many layers.” He teases you. He moved away just enough to help you remove his last layer of clothing. You were practically bouncing on your feet from anticipation. As soon as you saw his beautiful skin, your hands pushed his material away, both of you completely naked. With a wave of his hand the door locked to your bedroom. At the same time he backed you towards your desk, he used his arm to swipe the disassembled droid along with your data pad of the desk. His lips back onto yours lips never seaming to leave each other,
“ -I was-working on- that droid-“ You tell Anakin again in between kisses.
“- Hmhm- just like -you left for- three weeks-working-“
“ Anakin-” You warned him as lips landed back down onto yours another passionate and heated string of kisses. Your arousal was affecting him, he could feel through your presence, your emotions, your signature becoming increasingly evident, you were driving him mad. His lips leaving yours once more, Anakin lifted you up, throwing you down on your desk that he cleared off. He takes his gloved hand placing it on his lips, he uses his teeth, pulling at the straps helping him remove it. You propped yourself up on your hands, watching as he shamelessly pushed your already clenching thighs apart. The wetness from your body is growing immensely. He placed himself between your legs.
Anakin dropped down towards your face, his lips smashing down on yours as he hungrily takes each kiss you give him. Without warning metal fingers grip onto your breasts kneading and pulling at your nipple. While his flesh hand grips the back of your neck and some of your hair. You hiss from the sensation, Anakin let your lips go with a pop, making his way further down your body. He placed open mouth kisses down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and on your mound stopping just before your clit. Anakin couldn’t resist the urge to satiate the hunger of tasting you. He needed to eat you, like you were his last meal. A meal he can’t seem to ever live without.
Anakin who was already massive in height, it gave him an advantage as he dropped down to his knees. Looking down he made eye contact with your sopping pussy. He couldn’t believe how wet you were. How wet he made you, pride struck his chest and heart. “ I missed this, look at how wet you are. It’s all for me?” He talks to you as he looks up in your direction. Your heart skips a beat, his lust filled eyes already darker than usual, his eyes burning through you.
You nodded “ Y-Yes” his breath fanning over your dripping hole and clit, it was driving you mad. “Ani-please” you begged. With one hand you reached over, taking hold of his beautiful hair, your fingers threading through it. Anakin smiled at how needy you were, he liked that, he liked that you needed him right then and there. The teasing was unreal for you and too much, you waited too long and he was only stalling. He was making you pay for leaving him. Anakin turned his head to the side, kissing both of your inner thighs.
“ You’re so needy, bet you should've thought about that before you left me huh?” Anakin’s flesh hand took one of your breasts in his hand, his mechanical hand, grabbing one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. He gave you no room to protest, his mouth immediately latching onto your dripping pussy. He licked a long strip through your folds hitting your clit, your hips jerk at the suddenness. His attack in full motion, his makes out with your pussy, wet kisses, teeth and tongue could be felt. You moaned at the feeling, you tug on his hair, as his pace changes, he groans, vibrating through you.
“ Maker- you taste-fuck- you taste so good-“the feeling of you hit him like a ton of bricks, and for a moment his eyes rolled back and shut basking in the taste of you. His tongue finding a way into your hole causing you to moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair harder than before, your hips rocking with his movement. His tongue pumping in out, the wet muscles mixing with your fluid, a wet sound echoing in the room. Anakin pulled his tongue out your hole, running it back through your folds, his nose bumping into your clit. He opened his eyes as he watched your own roll back, your head lulled to the side, your mouth hanging slightly open, your breath erotic, your body reacting to him.
“ I-Im g-gonna cum” Your body began to shake, your breathing picking up, Anakin’s pace quickening in time with you. You could feel your stomach tightened. Anakin didn’t let up, instead he pushed your legs and spread them wider. As he coaxes you through your first orgasm another one quickly builds. This time he was rougher, biting and pulling at your folds, and clit, his flesh fingers finding their way into your hole, pumping creating a squelching sound. His metal hand pushed you down on the table as he stood up devouring you. His finger pumping in at a relentless pace hitting that one specific spot every time. The air, not catching up to your lungs. He doesn’t let up as your second orgasm crashes into you. Your hands pull harder at the strands of his hair, Anakin hisses biting the side of your outer lip. He pulls away standing completely straight up, his mouth, chin, nose covered in your mess. Takes the back of his hand wiping off his face. He smiles smugly at you, you roll your eyes at him fighting a smile of your own.
He helps you stand up off the desk, your feet touching the floor. “ You look like you ate the best meal of your life”
“ That’s because I did” He says, still smiling smugly at you, he threads his hand through your hair, as you drop down to your knees. You wanted to taste him on your tongue just as much as he wanted to taste you. You were eager and excited, your mouth watering, knowing how big he was. The weight of him on your tongue and in your mouth seemed too good to be true, but it was true and he stood in front of you. You hold your hand up to Anakin whose metal hand grabs your wrist, he leans down licking a slow long wet strip up to your fingertips. He lets go of your hand and you bring it back down towards his long veiny member, his tip pink and slick with precum, You swipe your thumb on his slit mixed with your spit , your hand pumps up and down your lips touching his tip and you press a light kiss. His hips jerked a few times. You let him guide you, your mouth opening as you take him in. You look up at him watching his head tilt back, his eyes closed, his mouth open, his chest glistening with sweat. His toned chest and stomach, thick with muscle, moving with each shallow breath he took.
He took control of your head movements, making you bob your head faster, you hummed happily, whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth you continued with your hands. Your other hand comes up to hold his hips. Anakin was letting you take the reins, which normally he didn’t, he was feeling…particularly kind tonight. Loud sounds echoed in your room. Both of Anakin's hands grabbed all of your hair pulling into a ponytail. His hisses and moans turn you on further. His hold on your hair tightens, his hips moving with your mouth. You decided to give something new a try, breathing in through your nose, you relaxed your throat as you pushed more of him into your mouth-Anakin groans loudly, his head snapped down his eyes opening as he looked at you. You were too focused on him and his sounds to even register he was looking at you. You hadn’t gotten you far to be honest, before he pulled you off of him.
“ Hey-“
“ I can’t wait that long” He growls as he forces you to stand up grabs your legs instructing you to jump, you do as he says. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His cock rubbing against you, you whimper at the sensation. Anakin backs you both up so that your back touches the cold wall. You take one of your hands grabbing his cock you run it through your folds you, both shudder, you could feel your hole clench around nothing. Anakin pushed you up just a tad giving you room to sink down onto him, his tip entering you, both of you moaning at the feeling. You pushed down further till you bottomed out, both of you muttering a fuck. Anakin’s lips crashed on yours as his hips snapped into yours, hard slow strokes allowing you to adjust. You bit his lip before pulling away, his hips picking up the pace, going slightly faster hitting that sponge spot. His breathing heavy, his arms holding you. The squelching sound becomes louder and more in tense, his hips driving into you, slamming into your cervix. It was all driving you insane. Your moans were getting louder by the second. He pulled you off the wall pressing you impossibly closer to him. His lips captured yours, swallowing your beautiful sounds.
You gripped onto Anakin harder when he hit that exact spot. “ Ugh-Ani-damn-uuuuuh” your breath hitching in your throat your mouth hung slightly open.
“ Fuuuuccckk Y/N” Anakin moans as one hand cups the back of your neck the other wrapped around your waist crushing your body into his. His thrusts become sloppy as he carries you to your bed. He drops you onto the mattress pulling out of you, you whine at the loss of him. He centered himself between your legs, he picked up one of your legs placing it on his shoulder while the other rested on his hip. With one hand he grabs both your wrists pinning them to your chest. With his free hand he takes his cock, running it through your folds again before pushing back into you. You both moan, sharing that exact feeling. How good you both felt, how you both desired one another, how the need grew with every second.
As soon as his entered your weeping hole, he rammed his hips into you. Your body shook with each thrust, his one hand holding you down, his other coming up to your clit. Anakin could feel you getting closer, he could feel it through the force, he could feel you. He could only hear you. Your wrists struggled against his hold, you wanted nothing more than to bring him back to your lips, to hold him closer, Anakin being Anakin sensed that, somehow as concentrated, his scrunched eyebrows and closed eyes leaned down towards you, his nose brushing yours. Lips lingering onto your before engulfing then, tongue clashing, the quick nimble movements of his fingers, his gorgeous whiny groans, the way his hips moved, you were done for. You didn’t get to tell him you were close, instead your body shook violently, a loud pornographic moan left your lips, your body arched upward, white speckles dot your eyes, your head pushing back into the pillow.
Anakin thrived off of that feeling, he was close, but he needed just a few more thrusts. “ I’m close” Your body drops back down onto the mattress, your head lulling to the side. You hissed at how sensitive you are, you could feel him everywhere. You watched Anakin as a whimper left your lips, he continued pounding into you. He leans down touching his forehead against yours. His hand that held your wrists, dragged across your chest up towards your neck holding it. He barely put any pressure but by him holding it was just enough. Your hands clasp onto his forearm. The hand that rubbed at your clit reached for your leg pushing it back further. You moaned loudly, the feeling of him buried inside you, the sounds of your liquids flowing, your eroctic breathing, it drove him to his end. Anakin groaned loudly, his hips sputtering, his cum leaking into you. You both were covered in sweat and sex, with dumb smiles on your faces. Anakin kisses your cheek as he sits up pulling himself out of you.
Anakin for a moment watched as your mixed liquids leaked out of your hole, taking to two fingers he shoves it back in. “ Ani” you yelped, pushing his hand away.
“ What?”He asks as if he had done nothing wrong. You roll your eyes at him as he takes his two fingers and brings it to your mouth. You take them in, licking his fingers clean. Anakin gets up heading to your bathroom grabbing a towel and wetting it. He brings it back to you as he cleans you of the mess you both made. Once that was finished you held your arms out for Anakin, who gladly climbed back into them. Exhaustion swept through both of your bodies as Anakin floated the blanket over the both of you. Your eyes widened as you sat up quickly gripping the blanket to your chest.
“ Oh shit! I forgot about the droid!-” Anakin bursted into laughter as he watched the pure panic flashed across your face. You turned to glare at Anakin slapping his arm. “-Obi Wan is going to literally kill me” You get ready to move again when Anakin grabs a hold of you pulling you back towards him.
“He can wait”
“I was supposed to have this done tonight. Then you came in here and things happened but not that I don’t love that. I do, I love you but-“
Anakin sighs a smile gracing his lips “ I love you too, but let me help you.” Anakin sits up sliding off the bed pulling on his underwear and his trousers. He walks over picking up the droid and your data pad that laid on the ground. You smiled happily as you crawled off the bed throwing on your own bra and underwear, before you could even get to Anakin’s shirt, he floats it over to you. You threw it on quickly before taking the data pad out of his hands. Anakin fidgeted with the head, tinkering away at it. A few minutes had passed in the comfortable silence the two of you had created while working.
“ Y/N”
“ Hmm?”
“ Round 2?”
“ Anakin” You chuckled
“ 3 weeks is a long time for me”
“You’re never going to let that go are you?”
“ Nope” He put emphasis on the letter ‘P’
“ Fine but after we finish this and get the report back to Obi Wan” You shook your head typing away, a smile etched on your face.
“ So is that yes?” He asks you with a smile of his own before biting his lip.
“ Yes that is a yes” You walked over kissing his cheek before bending down to grab something else.
“ I don’t think I can wait” He growls lunging for you.
“ Anakin!-“
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Clone Wars headcanons that have been rotting in my google docs
I like to believe that Padme teaches Ahsoka how to make friendship bracelets and she treats it as something sacred and spends an unholy amount of time making some for the people she cares about
Master Plo gets the first one, Obi-Wan gets the second, Rex Cody and a couple of their boys get some more, Padme of course gets one, and Anakin gets one last
The reason he was the last to get one is something Ahsoka will never admit out loud but she honestly wanted to take her time with his
And because of that Anakin permanently has a work of art on his wrist like everyone’s is gorgeous but his is something else entirely
He thanks her truly and honestly thanks her and promises to keep it forever
When Ahsoka jokingly calls him for breaking the orders rules he comments back “When have we ever listened to those rules”
He keeps his promise too that bracelet never leaves his person
He’s lost clothes lightsabers and even a couple of prosthetics but he always makes sure to go back for that bracelet
He eventually repays the gift in kind with a bracelet of his own
It’s not the best made or pretties thing but Ahsoka can feel the love that was put into it so she makes the same promise he did years ago and keeps it too
When the twins are born Ahsoka makes them both friendship bracelets
At first they are small enough for their tiny wrists but she adds onto them as they grow older
Ahsoka tears up when she finds that they all kept the bracelets she never thought they’d toss them or anything but seeing them decades later does hit her hard because they’re all in perfect condition
Padme loves to “kidnap” Ahsoka whenever they have the time
She’ll just request her protection on a diplomatic mission
Sometimes it is an actual mission but Padme will still make time to take them to her favorite restaurants or cafes so they can have a little bit of downtime
When the war ends the tradition continues even tho everyone knows Ahsoka’s not really there as a security escort
I find the visual of Anakin and Padme telling Ahsoka, Obi-wan, and Rex they’re married fucking hilarious
Both Obi-Wan and Rex would try to act like they’ve been fooled truly they do but it all kinda breaks when Ahsoka asks “Wait we weren’t supposed to know?”
Anakin is just as confused when he asks “What do you mean Soka? How could you have known?”
And that’s when Ahsoka just starts laughing hysterically and it doesn’t take long for Obi-Wan and Rex to join in when he asks again all Ahsoka says is “Really? Kriffing look at you two” and doesn’t add much else
Both Luke and Leia try to replicate Ahsoka’s face markings with various levels of success
They often ask their mom for help and she’s always happy to do so Ahsoka gets filled with unimaginable amounts of joy when she sees her niece and nephew trying to look just like her
Anakin often jokes that of course he’s not the favorite even in his own home like she’s not the first name that comes up whenever babysitting is on the table
It’s also not a surprise that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan become the twin's space equivalent of godparents
It seems like a necessary precaution all things considered
Neither of them takes the role lightly but they also vow that it won’t be needed and they do everything in their power to make it so
After most missions it is very rare for Anakin to let Ahsoka and Obi-Wan out of his sight
Ahsoka never fights him on this and is perfectly happy to stay by his side and sleep in the living room like they often do
Sometimes Obi-Wan is called away for a meeting with the council and can’t stay with the two but that doesn’t stop him from joining them later on in the night even if they’re asleep
Anything beats sleeping in his cold desolate room after some of the more dangerous missions
Sometimes they’ll go a step further and call Padme just to check in with her and have her on the line as they watch some stupid rom-com
After some of the rougher missions it wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to pass out due to the physical and mental strain
It also wasn’t uncommon for Anakin to give her a piggyback ride back to the ship
He finds that people shoot him less looks when he’s carrying his padawan instead of holding her in a death grip and not letting go until it’s time to leave
A lot of people thought they’d grow out of this habit but no it’s a trend that stays throughout their lives
It just so happens that Ahsoka grows tall enough to return the ongoing favor
It also didn’t stop at the battlefield either
Sometimes Anakin would find her passed out in the archives or he would get a message that she was asleep in a friend's room
And he’d always go to get her because what’s he gonna do leave her there?
Sometimes when Ahsokas babysitting the kids Anakin will find her in a position that Obi-Wan often told him about
Sitting in front of the TV with the twins curled up at her side
And while Padme deems it her job to carry the twins off to their room Anakin takes his long-time role of carrying Ahsoka to hers
(Because if you think she wouldn’t have a room in their house you’re crazy)
Anakin always knew Ahsoka would grow up that’s just a part of life and how the universe works
But nothing can describe the feeling of her growing taller than him
Envy isn’t what he feels no matter how much people suggest he does sadness isn’t either it’s something deeper than that
Bittersweet is the closest word he could find because after all there’s nothing quite like watching your younger sibling grow up
#star wars#the clone wars#star wars clone wars#star wars headcanons#ahsoka tano#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#padmé amidala#captain rex#luke skywalker#leia organa#ahsoka and anakin#snips and skyguy#disaster siblings#disaster trio#did I kinda get emotional at the end?#mayhaps#look me and my little brother have the same age gap as the disaster siblings#so they kind of make me really emotional alright#I love their dynamic so fucking much#I just wanna cuddle them close and make sure the world doesn't touch them#literally any of them#just wrap them all up in blankets and put them in front of a tv#let them have a moment to relax
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FUSE
Ao3 link
PART 2
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Plot with Smut
Categories: F/M, M/M, Poly
Fandoms: The Mandalorian (TV), Prospect (2018)
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader; Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader; Din Djarin/Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader
Characters: Din Djarin, Reader, Ezra (Prospect 2018), Grogu | Baby Yoda, Cee (Prospect 2018)
Additional Tags: Sex Pollen, Marathon Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, but only in the dark, Force-Sensitive Reader, Ezra loses the arm, no y/n, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, oh no we got feelings in our sex pollen smut, Everyone in star wars is bi til it's proven otherwise, Ezra is definitely a mouthy bottom, Switch Din Djarin
Summary:
Din and reader are working as a Guild crew living on the Crest (and quietly pining for one another). Din picks up a bounty on a harvester dodging creditors who had fronted funds for prospecting work and finds a surprise: someone who looks exactly like him. While on the way to drop him to the client, the three of you are accidentally dosed with a pollinating spice strain meant for cold blooded biologies! Now you three have to ah- "get it out of your systems" somehow!
"Take the bunk, iisa. I’ll kip here,” he says, dragging Grogu off the panel and into his lap.
“Alright,” you say, not surprised, and head down the ladder. Mando’s bunk is narrow and not particularly comfy, but it sure beats the durasteel floor or being upright in the cockpit. He makes sure you have a stark two-thirds split of the usage of it, only using the other third because you prod him when he gets sore shoulders or a crick in his neck when he doesn't. You curl up on your side on the thin bedroll and next thing you know, the Crest is juddering to a stop outside of the hyperlane over a small, verdant green moon.
“I shouldn’t be gone more than a day. The mark is purported to be a charlatan, but not much of a slippery catch, despite the long chase. He doesn't even have a ship,” Mando says, a while later, hesitating on the ramp. "Just keeps managing to sweet talk his way into rides, but sounds like he got stuck here." He checks that the fob is still beeping and tucks it into his belt.
“Ah, a chatty one. A favorite trait of yours; I am familiar.”
Mando snorts and passes Grogu to you. “More encouragement to drag him back and slab him so we don't have to listen,” he says. The kid sends you a flare of annoyance and squirms to get down, so you kneel and set him down, and he immediately goes back to Mando’s shins, bashing them with his little claws.
"I can't take you, kid. The air is toxic."
But Grogu simply leapt into his pram and popped the bubble shield you had engineered, staring up at his buir in defiance. You stifle a laugh and Mando sighs, resigned and continues to equip his standard weapons.
“I’ll check the ship and do maintenance as needed. Comm me if you need backup,” you say needlessly. He’s never needed your field skills yet, but that’s because he usually takes the kid. You're glad when he takes the kid. Knowing he has some kind of backup is a relief with how often Mando manages to get his ass kicked. And Grogu hates being left behind, typically showing such feelings like now.
The reputation you’d racked up on Nevarro as a force-sensitive, retired, Rebel Alliance sharpshooter- cum- mechanic had done little for you in the way of an easy life, but when you’d fixed Mando’s junker of a gunship after a nasty crash, and talked to his kid like some Ahsoka lady they'd met, he’d hired you on his crew and you’d had an enjoyable time since (even if you wished the idiot would notice how hard you have been holdinf a torch for him for cycles).
But it did no good to pine after a Mandalorian, you knew. Especially one as adhered to the Old Ways as Mando appeared to be. You’d met others in your time, as a child when they weren’t so secretive, and later, in the galactic war. And later still, when there was a covert beneath the city everyone pretended to ignore, and their beroya was out working, another would surface now and again to find work or socialize. Sometimes you’d hire them on for a day to move product, or assit with a fix, or break old machines down for parts.
You’d taken two different ones to bed, even, on various holdovers. They never removed their helmets, but you’d enjoyed the ah- rides, nonetheless.
Not this one, though. He had to be either the most dense (or simply the least interested) Mandalorian in the galaxy. Which really did so much for your self-esteem.
So after Mando departs with the kid in his pram floating along, his amban glinting across his back, you turn off the ship's air scrubber and seal your helmet and head outside to check the landing gear. The Crest was balanced on a patch of thick moss, its feet embedded in the soil below. You tutted at the soft surface and carried on inspecting for damage.
That evening, you rehydrate a sachet of soup, attach it to your suit's feed hose, and sit on a fallen log a few meters from the ship, grateful for the susurrus of nature. The forest moon is rich with fauna and life, desite the dust in the air that makes it unbreathable for humans. You wonder for the thousandth time how Mando is doing on his hunt, and decide to go back inside for a brief nap, keeping your comm unit close.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din is– surprised. Bounties don't often actually surprise him, but finding his quarry to be a lame-armed and barely- breathing man who looks and sounds uncannily like Din himself, hitched to a young woman by a length of tie-down belting strung between their suit loops in the middle of a dense forest has to land somewhere on his chart of weirdest discoveries. The fact that the young girl is aiming a strange blaster at Din and standing half-over the collapsed bounty is another tally on the list.
“Ezra May?” Din asks, leveling his amban rifle at the girl, seeing as she's the one with the weapon. The man sags against a tree and struggles to catch his breath in lieu of answering. He raises his his left hand and lists to the side a bit, which pulls on the girl and nearly knocks her down.
“I am indeed, my… shiny friend. I suspect that makes you a bounty hunter?”
Din faces the red- flashing fob at him and pockets it again. The man glances downward and cocks his head, looking curiously at the floating pram and little green kid in it. “Curious.” The heaviness of his labored breathing fogs the glass dome of his helmet.
“I am only here for you. The mark said nothing about another. Who is this?” Din waves the pronged end of his rifle at the girl, who eyes him with a feral glint. He keeps the rifle trained on her after a second thought spared for her shaking hands, but he straightens his finger off the trigger. He can shock her if need be.
“That is Cee. I stumbled upon her and her father's campsite and somewhat contributed to the death of the man after a bit of-- misunderstanding. I have found myself indebted to her, as she has attempted to save my life,” he shrugs his right arm with some pained effort and gasps to regain his breath, having been winded by simply shifting the injured limb. “But I am dwindling fast. My wound- it festers. The dust has gotten in the suit from the second injury," he waves to his chest with his left hand. "I suggest, Mandalorian, if you want that full bounty you’ve undoubtedly worked so hard for- you’ll help.”
Din watches the man’s chest hitch again and thick blood drools from the wound in his breastbone, causing the labored breathing. He motions for the girl to drop the strange blaster and she does, begrudgingly, after May murmurs to her that the Mandalorian has disintegration rounds in his bandolier and likely also loaded in that rifle.
He's not wrong.
“Can you walk?”
“I can, boss. But it’s slow going. My lungs are blocking up with infection from the wounds I have sustained. It is worse now with the new injury from our most recent aggressors,” he gestures at his chest again and wheezes a weak cough.
“Untie yourself,” Din motions to Cee, who glances at May and does so with a huff. “Go to that tree and sit.” He cuffs her behind her back to the tree, sitting propped against it, and goes back for the bounty. The man is in a badly damaged flight suit riddled with taped-over blaster holes and a vibroblade stab to his chest, from which the blood is leaking. His right arm hangs completely limp and the sleeve around it is soaked dark with blood, tied round with a tight makeshift tourniquet just under the shoulder.
Din slaps a tracking cuff on May’s ankle and sets about investigating the wounds since the suit is punctured anyway. He has a deep gash circling his whole bicep, nearly down to the bone the whole way 'round, that is blackened at the edges and still sluggishly bleeding, but has obviously cost him a lot of blood, and has indeed started to turn gangrenous with rot. “What happened?”
May chuckles and then coughs, his chest stuttering with the effort. “Another bounty hunter caught up to me in The Green, before I ran into Cee. And the fauna here… is far less forgivin’. Even if the aurelac diggin' is well worth its weight in credits. He shot me in the arm and I went down in a gorge of vegetation. Some of the dust, it released– and got in my suit through the hole, and thus into my wound. I tried to scrape out the black rot, but botched the excision. I went chasin’ radio signals looking for aid, and stumbled onto Cee and her father’s campsite, and simply pulled faster than the dearly departed Damon when I requested aid and he suggested at the end of a rail gun that I fuck off-” he chokes off a gasp and clenches his teeth when Mando flushes his chest wound with his flask.
Din works silently, zipping off the ruined suit sleeve at the shoulder joint for better access. He glances back at the pram. Grogu has floated a bit closer and is gurgling curiously. “No,” he says to the little outstretched claw, wagging a yellow-tipped finger at him. “Don’t waste your strength on a bounty. We’ll get paid either way.”
No small part of Din wonders if Grogu is wanting to heal Ezra May because Grogu is the only being in the galaxies who knows what Din looks like, and is staring at a face he most likely recognizes and might even be confused by. Hells, Din is confused by what he's seeing. Is the man related to him, somehow? Either way, Grogu's power shouldn't be used on a quarry of all things.
May frowns and flicks his dark eyes between them, endlessly curious or suspicious, one. His breathing has leveled out, at least.
“It is deeply infected. I’m going to have to amputate your arm if you want to live,” Din sighs, standing and pulling the saber from his belt.
“That…is a bold conclusion,” May huffs indignantly, trying to straighten his lean against the tree. He doesn't quite manage to make it.
“It’s gangrenous and still open. You’ll bleed out or die of the infection before I can get you to a Core planet, or a bacta tank.” He activates the saber and turns to Grogu. “Can you help? Just make sure he doesn't bleed out? No extra healing.” The child nods and turns his luminous eyes back to the man on the ground.
May frowns again. “Is your child a healer?”
“He is none of your concern. Leave this here.” Din lifts the bounty's dead arm, laying it outstretched and utterly limp on a fallen log beside May so he can slice clean downward. “The blade will cauterize. He will make sure you don’t bleed out. I’ll finish cleaning and covering the stump when we're back to my ship. You will behave, or I'll let you bleed out and take the lesser bounty, and leave her tied to that tree.” Din points at the girl and waits until May nods.
“I will do my level best to acquiesce.”
“Good,” Din grunts, and brings the blade down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Dank farrik,” you curse, the top half of you in an exposed panel that is sending sparks out as you weld a loose wire clip back into place.
“Problem, iisa?” Says a familiar vocoder, and you smack your helmet on the panel frame trying to straighten back out of the hull. You snort at the timing of the nickname, if nothing else, rubbing the back of your head. Fuse- you grip the soldering tool more firmly in your hand and pull fully out of the hull.
“Mando! Glad you’re back. No, just cleaning up my emergency job from last time. Find your– oh,” you say, pausing when you see the body on a travois dragging behind the pram. There's a girl tied by the binders to Din’s belt as well. He has an extra (oddly shaped) blaster tucked in his belt and the kid seems a bit groggy but is happy to see you.
“That him? And a stowaway?”
“The girl is with him, he asked me not to leave her here. Promised good behavior for it, before he passed out.” You can read from the tip of his head and his body language that he's saying see what a nice guy I am? It makes you huff a laugh.
“How’s your field medic training?”
“I was on Hoth, nerfherder. You know it’s fine. I’ve patched your clumsy ass up more than once. What happened? You shoot him?”
“Found him like this,” Din waves at the travois and unlatches it from the pram, letting Grogu float inside. The girl scoffs at him and kneels by the unconscious man. “Well. Mostly.”
“He’s missing an arm and burning up!” you say, prodding the man's body and feeling. You check his pulse where the gasket of his suit meets glove; he’s alive, at least.
“His wound was septic. We’re days from a Core planet. I had to remove it.”
“You used the saber?!”
Mando shrugs. “It cauterized it.”
“Maker, the brashness of men will kill us all,” you grouse under your breath, and stalk into the ship to make a pallet on the floor. “Drag him in!”
Din does, sitting the girl near the ladder with her wrist cuffed to a rung. “Don’t imagine he’s going far, but leave that tracker on in case. If he loses the leg trying to get rid of it, he really won’t get far.”
You snort a laugh, used to Mando’s dry (and vaguely morbid) sense of humor, and get to work. The wound is large but indeed thoroughly cauterized. You clean and coat it in bacta gel and wrap it firmly, setting a hardening casting wrap over it for good measure and binding it to his ribs over the dressings on his chest wound. Finally, you set up a hemopak and dig out a bag of IV fluids and hang them off a racking hook in the hull. By the time you're piercing his vein in his remaining elbow, the man is stirring with a reedy groan and squirming away from your touch.
“Easy, mate,” you say quietly. He blinks awake and focuses on you after a moment. “Stay down or you’ll earn a better scar than this. Assuming you live to scar over,” you bite the end of the med tape in your teeth and tear it, smoothing the end down.
“My word, I was not aware I'd have such… stunning company on my final journey to certain death,” the bounty says, still surely delirious. You hear the leather of Mando’s glove creak as his hand tightens over the hilt of his blaster, and snort at Din more than the comment. The man’s impossibly deep eyes soften at your smile, flicking all over your face and hands as you work on his wounds.
“Easy, pretty boy, you silver-tongued devil,” you lean in and stage whisper. “You gotta wait til the big guy goes upstairs for that kinda chat.” You give him a ribald wink and pull away at the man’s baffled smile, organizing the medkit before looking up at Mando. “You gonna freeze ‘im?”
“I probably should. Him passing out after I cut the arm off was the only silence I think I've had in the last two days.”
You gasp in mock offense. “You’ve been gone less than one day!”
Mando tips his helmet at you as if to say: point.
You roll your eyes and huff. “Dick. If you do, his arm won’t heal right. Assuming he stays alive after the client gets him and it gets a chance to heal.”
“Assuming.”
“Any idea what they have planned?” you ask as you stow the medkit away and start digging out dinner. You can feel May’s dark eyes following you closely, watching your interactions. You're pretty sure he’s delirious from blood loss and pain, but you can't deny he’s a stunning specimen of a man to look at, even half dead and coated in sweat and muck.
“No, no questions asked. He is wanted for slipping on investment debts for prospecting though, so maybe they’ll put him to work til he drops. Although now I can’t imagine he’ll earn much, one handed with a rotten chest. You’ll mind him, then, iisa?”
You sigh the sigh of the deeply put-upon and nod, passing out food around the hold. “Here kid. Eat up.” You hand the girl a ration bar and flask of water, which she tears into greedily, before seeing to Grogu with a cup of rehydrated bone broth. Mando watches you for a moment before retreating up to the cockpit with his own ration bar. You leave him to it so he can take off his helmet.
“Can you sit up?” You kneel and ask the bounty, and he manages to get up to his remaining elbow and lean heavily on the hull while you rehydrate and heat another soup sachet. While it heats, you knock back your own cup and work on padding out his pallet on the floor.
Grogu stands next to the man’s boot and coos curiously at him, pushing you some errant thoughts and feelings. One makes you pause as he focuses on the bounty’s face and weighs it heavily against something guarded from you, limned in shadow even in his mind. You back away from the thread of thoughts, half sure it’s Din’s face for some reason, and go back to the task at hand.
“Here’s this,” you make sure Ezra is propped to a proper sit, back against the wall, before you pass down two painkillers and, once he’s tossed them in his mouth, a flask of water to wash them down.
“Dinnertime.”
The man allows you to tip the metal cup to his mouth and he swallows down the soup, humming at the spreading warmth. “Thank you, gem.”
You huff a laugh at the nickname and instead of retorting to what is surely a slip of the tongue in the man’s inebriated state, you provide your name. You watch his eyes soften as he accepts the gift for what it is.
“Ah. The sun shines on a dead man. My name… is Ezra, and that little bird that got lashed to my sinkin’ ship is called Cee,” he sighs, sipping more of the soup as you tip it into him. He brings his left hand up, curling his fingers very lightly around your wrist.
“My dear. I know I don't have a single bargaining chip to use as the gallows loom near. But. If I can beg something of you? Do not drag that poor girl into my mess. Convince your man to leave her on Coruscant. She can go to school, make somethin’ of herself. She doesn't deserve to see what happens next, or live through it. Or die, if they decide to extend to her the same fate. Cee is innocent in this. All she has done is try to help with my injury and tried to escape this damnable moon.”
You glance at the girl and meet her flat, steady gaze for a long moment. Grogu gurgles, and you glance at him, appreciating the sense of truth he pushes at you. You nod after a long moment of silence between you and the Child, tipping the rest of the soup into Ezra’s mouth. “I’ll talk to Mando. lay back down and rest. Those pain tablets should knock you out soon. I’m sure your rugged good looks can only improve with some beauty sleep,” you wink at him, pulling a chuckle from his chest.
”My word, gemstone. You are a wonder.”
You get up and clean and put everything away and scoop the kid up, checking the binder on the girl and putting one on Ezra’s remaining wrist for good measure, keeping them on opposite ends of the hold.
“You decent?” You call up the ladder, smiling at Mando’s snort and crackly yes as he replaces the helmet. You climb up and set Grogu in his seat, taking the third and meeting the flat expression of the T-visor when Mando turns.
“May begs that we take the girl to Coruscant and leave her at the Academy. He says he stumbled upon her in the Green and killed her father, and took her on as a mutual source for survival before he was injured. Mando.” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees. “If that is true, and the kid says it is- we can’t take her back to Canto Bight. She’ll be traded off as chattel, at best. Kept in a pleasure house more likely. She’s young, hon. We consign a life and get payment, but we save the other? What’s one more stop?”
Mando looks at you for a long moment and glances to the kid, who jabbers at him. “He agrees with me, by the way,” you translate. Mando shakes his head and turns back to the panel, plugging in new coordinates.
“If you want.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drop off is significantly more emotional than you or Mando had anticipated.
You had spent the last few days in hyperspace listening to these two pickups talk and talk and talk, about everything and nothing. And now she was wide- eyed and clinging to Ezra’s lone hand, knowing she’d probably never see or speak to him again. She had explained over the days how no one ever talked to her, or how they always put her thoughts and feelings down, so she had learned to be quiet and how to appear thoughtless, even with her mind whirling. But Ezra had always engaged her verbally and probed her thoughts and gave her equalizing jobs to do and met her expectations with his own, rather than treating her like a starry-eyed mooncalf or a burden.
Ezra, on the other hand, didn't seem to give a shit if he was listened to at all - he just couldn't stand silence. It grated on him; so he filled it. He liked conversation and thrived on engagement from the audience; he could never get enough. He absorbed everything Cee had to say and conversated with her amiably or arguably enough. He talked with you when you were in the hold with them, but to be fair the man would talk to a wall if given the opportunity and enough isolation.
Your untrained Force senses are nowhere near as strong as Grogu’s, and you wonder what he is picking up as the girl rushes across the hold to Ezra the second you take off her binder. Mando stands on the ramp with the Child, waiting while Cee lingers and drags out her goodbyes. You can feel the anxiety and stress on her like deadweight.
“I don't want to leave you with them. We can- we’ll pay him off. You can stay with me. We’ll find a place, find some work–”
“As much as I would love to linger, and live long enough to read all the stunning stories you will assuredly write and put out into the universe, I don't think this Mando is the type to be paid off, Cee. And it would require credits we do not have at our disposal. Now go on, girl.” He nudges her away with his forehead, patting the back of her hand on his chest. “Take my chain code- I won’t be needin’ it. Clear out my accounts ‘fore I'm gone, rent you a little place. Go to school. Be a writer. Do everything we talked about. Go on,” he nudges her again with his knee when she doesn't move, her hand tight on his.
“I want one of your comm codes,” Cee says, standing on the top of the ramp, wiping furiously at her damp face and glaring at you and Mando. “You’ll comm me when you're dropping him to your– to whoever’s paying you to do this.”
You glance at Mando and huff at his approving head tilt, offering one of your various recycled comm links. Grogu babbles from Mando’s elbow at her as she leaves the ship, pushing a sad greyness toward you. “I know sprout. She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”
“That she is,” Ezra sighs from the floor, his head not far from your hip. He blinks up at you with one of the sardonic, sad little smiles you’ve come accustomed to in the last few days. You curl your hand into a loose fist to resist the urge to card your fingers through his hair in a consoling gesture.
“Need any shopping done?” Mando calls from the ramp, and you are quick to hand over your growing mental list of parts, soldering strip, replacements for the medkit, food, and water filters. And your favorite snack, if he has time.
“I’m going to find a travel station and run this guy through a wash cycle, he stinks,” you nudge Ezra’s knee with a boot and he gasps in mock offense, making himself cough for it but still grinning. You roll your eyes and start loading a bag. “Bring him back a change of clothes? He’s like… Exactly your size. Maybe a bit leaner. It’s weird.”
Mando hesitates almost imperceptibly before he nods and trods off with the kid tucked in his elbow and the girl, Cee, trailing after him. He intends to take her to the Academy grounds and then head for one of the many markets in the huge city.
You finish packing your bag and grab your coinpurse, intending to return quickly and grab a nap while the boys are gone. Assuming Ezra doesn't talk your ear off. Maybe you’ll dose him up and knock him out after you wash him down.
“Thank you, gem. I am in your debt. For as much good as that does anyone,” the man says, teetering even with his back against the hull where you left him while you gathered supplies.
“It doesn't do anyone any good, considering you're effectively broke and on the way to forfeit your life over your outstanding debts to the wrong people on a gambling planet,” you deadpan, hooking an arm behind his back and pulling him upright. He hisses when the motion pulls on his wounds in his chest, but the bacta patch prevents it from re-opening. “But at least your girl is safe.”
He hums in reply and nods, as somber as you’ve seen him yet.
“Careful. Swing your legs– there you go.” You get him ready to stand and kneel, putting your shoulder under his remaining arm, and get him up to his knees, then his feet in stages. Lots of pulling and grunting and swearing later, Ezra leans against the hull, panting, his short curls stuck to his head under a fresh sheen of sweat.
“Now I have soap and whatnot in my bag, and a change of clothes. Some of Mando’s old loungewear, which will be too baggy on you, but it’ll cover your bits until he comes back with something. I got mouth cleanser and all… deodorant. Can you wash up one-handed?” you ask as you stuff a clean rag into your pouch and flip it closed.
“To be honest, gem. I have not had the pleasure of a water bath since this injury happened,” he shrugs his stump and coughs lightly, still dislodging the dust from his lungs. “And surely not since your boss cut if off. So I do not know. But I'll make the best effort, naturally.”
“I’ll help. The showers are communal, and I trust enough that you understand how to keep that hand to yourself unless you want another appendage missing. Or to end up in carbonite.”
Ezra’s brow locks down in a scowl and he straightens his shoulders. “Of course. I am not in the habit of abusing my position, or women, gem. Despite what you must presume of a bounty, on principle.”
“Mmmmhm,” you hum noncommittally. “Come on,” you drag his arm over your shoulders again and fix your hand around his ribs, and start walking. The tracker on his ankle beeps low and steady, echoing in time with your wristcomm as you leave the ship. You trudge down the ramp and close it, locking the Crest up, and make your way down to the end of the line of docking bays to the traveler service station.
Thankfully the place is none too busy, being midday. There are a family of bluish Ortolan clumped together in one corner and a few straggler smugglers or merchant longhaul cargo pilots keeping to themselves along the rows of showerheads in the wall. There are thin flimsiplast dividers between the showerheads that come up to about chest-height but the back ends are open to the room. You push Ezra into one and help him strip off the flightsuit and his ratty-thin smalls.
“Kriff this suit stinks,” you scrunch up your face and drop the bundle into a nearby sonic clothing compartment to have the dirt and stench of infection and dried sweat buzzed from it. After a brief hesitation, you stuff your own clothes in as well. "How long were you in the green with your injuries?"
“I wandered for a day with my arm injury before I found Cee and her father. And she and I wandered another four before the other bounty hunter found us. And another full day before Mando found us. I do apologize for the smell, at least. Though I imagine you understand why it's so bad, considering your thorough care of me thus far in our odyssey.” Ezra tips his face up into the cool spray while it warms and sighs in relief, deeply appreciating both the pressure and refreshing cleansing after miring in his own stink for weeks. He watches you soap up a rag and drag it up his arm, scrubbing just enough to tingle and really get the dirt and sweat off.
“I do. Arm up,” you tap his elbow with the soapy rag and wash him down clinically, curling your lathered knuckles into the hair under his left armpit and carefully doing the same to the right, avoiding his arm wound, then spreading soap over his face and neck, curling into his scraggly beard and up behind his ears and then down across his too- lean torso. You hand him the rag to scrub over his own half-hard (and unfortunately impressive, you note) genitals before you instruct him to turn under the spray and do the same treatment down his back and legs.
Ezra talks the entire time, endlessly distracted with whatever tall tale crosses his mind and very pleased to have a listening ear to natter into. Right now he's animatedly detailing a yarn about massacring an infestation of channel rats, of all things. If the incessant chatter helps prevent him from getting any more hard under your hands, you're fine with it, you decide with an amused quirk of lips.
Ezra is certainly attractive as hell, but you're not just going to fuck a bounty in a service shower. Part of you can't ignore the abrupt thought that if he’d come up to you in a cantina, you definitely would have dragged him to an inn or ship as soon as you could. He is stupidly cute, with that charming wide, squinty, toothy smile and big, dark brown eyes and that wild tuft of white hair at his temple. Even the tiny, soft roll of his belly had been a surprising delight to find with how malnourished and lean the rest of him was. You definitely enjoy the tenor of his voice, remarkably similar to Mando’s, but unmodulated and thick as syrup with that twangy accent. You interject with little encouraging noises every now and then, spurring him on, even if you're hardly absorbing his story.
Soon enough you're scrubbing the shampoo bar through his hair, scratching your nails firmly into his scalp to get all the sweat and grime out. He practically dissolves under your hands, humming in deep appreciation until you push him back under the stream to rinse. Finally, you peel back the dressing on his missing arm to carefully wash the huge wound cap to prepare for redressing it.
“Stay there and let the water run on your stump for a few minutes, flush it clean. I'm going over here to wash, and then we’ll head back.” You hand him a capful of mouth cleanser and he knocks it back, gargling thoroughly and spitting.
Ezra watches you slip under the flimsiplast divider and turn your own water on. He leans against the wall under the showerhead and lets it flow down his shoulder and off the end of his stump, stinging only slightly as it washes out the scabbing wound and softens it. He has a single passing thought of making a run for it that dissolves down the grate in the floor as quickly as it had been formed; the debilitating combination of injuries and a rotten chest and you have very nearly declawed him. He thinks loosely about the imposing (but hardly unwelcome) image of the Mandalorian, too; tough and hardened but clearly not cruel; quite reasonable and fair, in fact, if his handling of Ezra’s request for Cee is any indication of his character. He even has a child. Ezra shakes his head to clear his swirling thoughts and watches you, keeping his eyes politely on your face even though he's quite tall enough to see all of you over the divider. Nevermind that you were just in here with him, bare and wet while you washed him over. He couldn't help plumping a bit down below due to proximity and general passive interest, but he steadfastly ignores it.
“Are you and our beskar-clad mutual ah- entangled?” He asks, genuinely curious.
You snort and scrub the rag over your body. “I’m not exactly sure Mando is interested in anyone like that. I suspect he had a questionable fling right before he met me in Mos Eisley, some half-feral desert Marshal in the Dune Sea, but I think it left him a little broken-hearted. He hasn't ever acted interested. And he’s my boss, maybe that's why, doesn't want to cross that line.” You shrug. “I mostly mind the kid and do maintenance on the ship and lend a second gun on bigger or tough bounties.”
“And he found you as a mechanic?”
“Yeah, I was working a recovery job for his friend, came in with a rickety heap of a M-111 I'd bartered with some Jawas for and he bought like half the parts off it immediately, had me and Peli knock his own Crest back into shape. And then asked me if I was interested in staying on as a crewmate, and I was, mostly to get off Tatooine. I’d actually first seen him on Nevarro when his covert was there, and he was working as a beroya for the Guild when Karga was running it. I left Nevarro after Karga started shaping it up and the Core started flavoring it too much. And then he found me on Tatooine; rest is history.”
“Beroya?” Ezra tests the word on his tongue and frowns. It's unfamiliar, and he so loves words.
You huff a laugh. “That’s his people’s word for bounty hunter.”
“Hmm. And the little green fella?”
You huff again, eyebrows dancing. “Long story short: Mando’s a bit of a collector, mate. Lost things, loners, the broken and the damned. He tends to save them, sort of despite himself, and then just keeps going, finding others. Gave me a job when I was considering spacing myself off the next public travel barge.... He saved the kid when the Imps wanted to experiment on him. Saved an old merc from a forced labor camp, saved a former drop trooper from her own hand... He flies in to save the day all the damn time. The list goes on.”
“Imps? You're friendly with these folks?”
“Kriff, no. Not intentionally. Way I understood it, the kid was a bounty. Mando couldn't bring himself kill him, so he turned him over warm for a substantial reward, and the guilt ate at him til he broke back in the compound and took the kid back, killed half of Nevarro on the way back out. Been running ever since.”
Ezra’s mouth turns down as he mulls the news over.
“Anyway. Just mind your manners and you won't end up slabbed.”
“I surely will, gem. Being thawed from that process is hell itself; I am unfortunately acquainted with the burning in one’s sinuses for days after. Nothing tastes right for weeks. I'll keep to myself until we must part ways.”
“Good. He doesn't mess around when me or the kid are involved; I'm sure it’s been impressed upon you by now that you’ll end up worse off than this if you even try,” you nod at his stump and shut your water off, ignoring the bounty’s frown.
Ezra watches your form just a little indulgently as you turn away and dry off, appreciating the glide of fine bones under your smooth skin, the soft curves and more toned muscles. He shuts his own water off and starts drying off, managing a patting motion over most of himself, though reaching his legs is giving him trouble.
You dress quickly and come back under the divider to finish his right side, carefully patting the scabbing end of his stump before stepping away for the single set of loose lounge clothes Mando keeps (even though he has never worn them near you).
“Sit and get your feet in,” you instruct, kneeling and holding each leghole open for him to slip his feet in. Ezra sits on the bench and does so, tipping to his left as he balances his weight with his hand planted on the seat.
“I do miss being– symmetrical,” he hisses, carefully maneuvering his stiff right shoulder as you stretch the neck and armhole of a tee shirt over his head and arms.
Despite yourself, you laugh at his complaint. His dark eyes flick up to you and a small smile ticks up one side of his face. “Alright, let's walk back and let this dry a bit, and I'll redress it once it does. Don’t let it touch anything,” you say, spraying the whole raw end of his stump with bacta and wincing at a sharp mental jab of empathic pain when he screws his face up from the sting.
“If you ah- have any of those tablets you have given me since the first day, gem, that would be… Just creamy,” he stammers through gritted teeth, getting back to his feet. “I believe the wash down was simply sinful, but I must admit my wounds are giving me some real grief for it, now.”
“They’re back on the ship. Let me get our clothes out of the sonic and we can go back. I’ll dose you up and feed you, you can sleep it off.”
Ezra nods and watches with his dark eyes as you empty the sonic clothes compartment into your shoulder bag and return, putting everything you brought to rights and shouldering the bag before holding a hand out to drag him upright.
When you make it back to the ship, it's still empty. Din hasn’t commed, so you assume he’s still out shopping, or trying to leave the loquacious and generally nerdy and strange Cee (who has warmed up just enough to be both demanding and overtly chatty) at the Academy. You stifle a laugh at the image of Din trying to deal with her, certain that Ezra won’t appreciate it while he mourns her loss. Even if he is not her father, they were clearly bonded from trauma and circumstance, if nothing else.
When you're safely inside the ship, you leave Ezra at his pallet on the floor and fetch down the painkillers.
“Damn, I only have one tablet left. Let me comm Mando so he can pick up more at the market.” You hand Ezra the tablet and dart up the ladder to do just that, waiting for an affirmative return before you go back down. You jump down the last few rings to find that Ezra has dry swallowed the tablet and managed to flop mostly into his bedding.
“I do appreciate your care of me, gem. Even if I am not meant to live beyond the next few days, you have given me a decent sendoff.”
You hum and start putting things away. “Canto Bight is always moving, and at the moment it's a long way off, so you can estimate it to be more like, eh… nearly a standard week?” You shed your outer layer and start rehydrating a sachet of bone broth for him, already keen on the way he’s listing from the exercise and mounting pain levels. He’ll fall right to sleep after getting a full, warm belly, you’re sure.
“Gemstone, could you be bothered to hand me the satchel I came on this fine vessel with? If you are out of painkillers, I have something to tie me over until our armored friend returns with a more performative narcotic.”
You frown at him and lift the bag, eyeing his outstretched hand. “What does it look like?”
“Kevva, woman. You just showered with me. I am not interested in harming you in the least, not that I imagine I could in my state. But if you insist, it would be a small, thumb-sized, off-white bottle. White lid.” You find it quickly and shake it, hearing tiny caplets plink against the sides. You don't recognize the swirly script the label is written in.
“What are these?”
“They are painkillers from an old field kit from Cee’s father’s drop ship. They are well past expired, but if it’s all I have, I will manage until our reflective leader returns.”
You roll your eyes and shake out a few pills into your palm, offering them. The dosage had long since worn off the label. Ezra takes them all and chews them up before you can snatch any back. “You better not have just OD’d, asshole,” you grit, handing him the cup of broth.
“I know it’s equivalent to asking a mountain to bow down, but do endeavor to trust me just enough to know I would not end my life before my time is due, gem. I said they are expired, I have only taken extra to ensure some semblance of relief for this incredible ache,” he shifts his stiff right shoulder and his whole face screws up with pain, body rigid with it.
“Let me-” you start, and move behind the pillow behind his head and shoulders. He is unconcerned but watches you with those fathomless dark eyes, curious. You lay your hands on either side of his neck and squeeze.
“If Mando shows up, you’re dealing with the fallout,” you say, massaging rhythmically. Ezra clenches his jaw on a sigh and rounds his shoulders out, seeking more.
“Understood, friend. Oh. I am– endlessly grateful.”
You find a tight whorl of muscle quickly, just under the right shoulderblade near his spine. You set to working your thumb into it, coaxing it back into shape, and eventually it releases, along with the tension you feel in his aura. The pained groan Ezra can't quite stifle is positively sinful, which nearly makes you laugh. He turns his head with a sardonic smile at your stifled snort.
“To be honest, gemstone. That spot has pained me more than the wound itself since I was injured. Your friend spared me much of the site pain when he cauterized the wound with his laser- blade. But that muscle, from carrying myself somewhat tilted, has only gotten worse. I find myself in your debt yet again.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just behave til the next port and we’ll call it even.”
“Now I must riposte, my dear. I have behaved quite admirably in your care, have I not?”
You chuckle, nodding. “You have, though you are also healing and no doubt getting an itching fever from being consigned, injured, to the hold of a ship in space with little leg room and now one less ear to babble incessantly into. I’m asking that you continue to behave, then.”
“Incessantly!”
“Ezra, you know full damn well that you could say half as many words in Basic and get your point across! You like the sound of your own voice!”
“Listen here, little bird, I wouldn't natter on so much if you didn't like how similar I sound to your tin man!” He grins quick when he sees you flush, caught.
“You do sound oddly like him. Not as uh-”
“That is a bedroom voice,” Ezra interrupts, breaking into a grin at your blush. “I thought the same thing when he leveled his rifle at me in the Green. He cannot be doing that on purpose all the time. It has to be the vocoder, something not wired right in his bucket.”
You laugh, which makes Ezra smile again, softer this time. “Have you truly never seen him?” you shake your head and his eyebrows lift. “Not even by accident?”
“He’s very careful. It’s important to him, his beliefs. I don't think he's taken it off without knowing I'm gone or dead asleep since he hired me. Maybe even before, with his kid. But I know the kid has seen him.” You wink, wiggling your eyebrows as if sharing juicy details. Ezra huffs a laugh and lays back in his netting.
“How do you know? Do you speak his language?”
“Grogu has the Force. I am Force sensitive, but untrained. He sends me thoughts and feelings now and again, and I translate, to a degree, for Mando. Though the guy’s getting good at understanding the kid’s coos and gurgles and body language by now; I don't have to do much. I know Mando’s name, because of that, but I believe it was an accident, a passing thought- and Mando has never told me it, so I won’t use it. Or share it!” You hold up a finger to stem off the next question just as the man’s mouth opens. He grins quick again, as if mysteriously proud of you for some reason, and you continue.
“Anyway. Grogu will tap his chin now and then, just under the lip of the helmet, and there is sort of a longing around the gesture, but he gets an image in his head- a memory- but he clears it or drops a wall between us before a face can form. I can only assume it's because of me.”
Ezra bites his lips and is quiet for a long moment. “I was going to ask about your powers,” Ezra defends himself, playing up his sulk, but his eyelids are growing heavy. He yawns hugely and you grin. Got him.
“Not much to tell. I’m like more of a– palpable empath than a Jedi. Go to sleep.” With his grumble of assent, you take his empty soup cup back and rinse it before dropping into the bunk across the hold, watching the comm link and waiting for Din to come back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din returns to the ship a few hours after he left it, bereft of one child and holding that much more tightly to his own. He remembers well what it feels like (what it felt like) to give his own child away after too- short a time with him, because he thought Grogu going with the Jedi would lead to a better life for him. Grogu had been quiet as a womp rat since they left Cee at the Academy and the complete silence was grating on Din’s nerves.
He had received your comm for painkillers as he was leaving the market, so he doubled back and retrieved what you asked for at the first stall he saw with med supplies. By the time he’s scaling the ramp into the Crest, he’s ready for a meal and a nap before they take off again. The dock fees are paid up for the full day, after all.
He enters to find the bounty snoring hard on his pallet and that you are lightly asleep in Din’s own bunk. He stops and watches you for a long moment until Grogu gurgles excitedly at the sight of you and you stir.
You inhale sharply and roll over at the sound, blinking and sitting up by the time he seals and locks it. Grogu squirms and gets down, toddling off into the hold.
“Nice shopping trip?” You ask, taking some of the supplies and beginning to stow it.
“Not bad. I intend to nap for a bit and then we’ll head out, take him to Canto Bight?” He tips the helmet at the man snoozing on the floor and you nod. “Here’s those painkillers, iisa.”
“Ah, thanks.” You shake one out and dry swallow it, wincing at a pull in your lower back, and pull down the medkit to stow them and start putting everything else away, closing panels and hanging larger items in cargo netting. “Go on and nap, I know you pulled an all-nighter.”
“You can keep the bunk,” Din says, shifting his weight. Grogu yawns in the crook of his arm and droops over it, ready for his own tiny hammock. “Two of those please?”
You snort and grin at him, passing two tablets over. He never takes meds; he must be really going through it. “Yeah, point. I had a nap. Go on, take that bucket off and shut the door, get some rest. I’ll knock at the door when the docking timer goes.”
“Alright,” Din sighs and bumps his shoulder fondly against yours before crawling into the bunk. Just before the door slides shut he hears Ezra stir. You hear him, too, and take the clothes he got for Ezra and lay them in a folded pile on a low shelf near the nest.
“Gem, is our Mando back with those meds?”
“He is. Is your expired experiment not cutting it?”
Ezra huffs a pained laugh and shakes his head. “It is not, I'm afraid. May I pilfer some of those?” He tips his forehead at the bottle in your hand and you come over, shaking one out.
“You already had one, and it's only been half an hour. So you can wait for it to wear off, or you can have one, now. I'm not boxing your kidneys over expired meds and some site pain."
In answer, he reaches up and accepts the single tablet, swallowing it dry. “I am not eager to see how this feels with nothing in my system, gem.” He shifts his right shoulder and winces, hard. “Thank you.”
“Don't have much of a pain tolerance, do you?”
Ezra huffs a laugh and nods dreamily, still mostly asleep despite the chatter. “Never thought much of it before I sustained this injury. It seems I do not.”
There is enough room on the bundle of blankets for two, so you drop to a knee beside Ezra’s hip. “Shove over a bit,” you murmur, tapping his side with your knuckles, and he does, shimmying toward the wall. You glance back at the hatch to Din’s bunk and see it closed, and you can hear the kid already snoring from within.
You slip down and lay on your back beside the bounty, who is laying still but not quite tense. “Forgive me for not trying too hard to avoid you, whatsoever, gem. We did wash up together, after all. and I am a bit of a cuddler, truth be told.”
“Hush, dummy. He hears you, you’re gonna end up in carbonite.”
“Is he so possessive of you?”
You snort at the mental image. “Not how I'd put it. Overprotective, maybe. He has a loyalty streak a parsec wide, not that it ever does him much good. Mando gets his ass kicked on about half the jobs he does.”
Ezra chuffs a soft laugh and straightens on his back, uncomfortable with his unbalanced weight on his side. The move pulls on the still- sealing wound in his sternum and he hisses quietly.
“Just go back to sleep. The alarm will go off in six hours and we’ll leave for Canto Bight.”
“Well, gem. I can't think of a better way to spend my final hours than laying here peacefully with you. Maybe if our shiny friend joined us- sans the shiny, for the sake of comfort- it could be a real party.” Ezra yawns hugely and settles, falling asleep quickly as the fresh tablet hits his bloodstream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You stir awake to the sound of the bunk door sliding open, maybe an hour later. “Hmm? Mando?” You whisper and pop your head up, feeling sweaty and wildly overheated in the blanket nest. Ezra has curled against your side on the pallet but he’s not got an arm to drape over you; you're not even touching all that much. The heat can’t be from him. Not all of it.
Weird.
You sit up and see that Din is wriggling out of the bunk silently and very carefully, struggling to avoid disturbing Grogu snoozing hard in his little hammock. He slaps the door controls to shut it as soon as he is out.
“Osik!” Din gasps, falling to a knee. “Ii– iisa.”
You can feel the panic in him even as it's edging into his voice and jump up, rushing the few feet across the hold to him. “Mando! What’s wrong?” you hiss in a whisper.
“So– so hot. What’s- is it hot in here to you?” he shakes his head when you nod, watching the sweat roll down your temple and chin to soak into the collar of your flightsuit. "Okay."
“I am feeling it too, though I do not think it’s the temperature in the hold, Mando,” Ezra grits, struggling up to an elbow. “Did we all ingest something similar? Or were we exposed? Something is perhaps having a – biological response with each of us?”
You wipe at the sweat beading on your brow and try to think, which is easier said than done. Your thoughts are snarled tight and your blood is thrumming under your skin, pooling in your belly and thighs.
“We... Oh! We each took a painkiller. Or two,” you say, turning to Mando, who is on his hands and knees and panting under his helmet. He already seems far worse off than you or Ezra.
“Dank farrik. Soup. And – the tablets.”
“We've been having the same soup sachets for a week. That can't be it. What in Kevva’s name was in those tablets?”
You turn to Ezra and blink slowly. “Let me get them,” you fumble for the medkit and bring it down, digging for the white cylinder tube. “It’s just the usual standard medkit bottle- see? It says– oh. Uh, Mando? Where did you get these?”
Ezra reaches out his hand and you pass the shaker to him. It does look exactly like a standard over- the- counter Core painkiller bottle for a standard field medkit- but apparently recycled by spice runners and handed off by mistake in the busy market. The label reads Spiced Honey in Aurebesh and Huttese, though the script is faded. He squints and reads off the rest.
“‘Pollination Aid for Insectoid, Reptilian, Amphibious, and other cold-blooded sentient beings. Not recommended for mammalian biologies. For consenting adult use only; do not take more than one tablet in a standard cycle day. Common side effects in warm- blooded mammalian biologies include heightened basal temperature, undue sweating, erections lasting longer than four hours, hypersensitivity, amorous behavior, increased self-lubrication, and full loss of inhibition in varying degrees of strength. Do not combine with other intoxicants’. Well. We’re fucked, perhaps quite literally,” Ezra drops the shaker into the nest of blankets and curses under his breath, glancing at Mando mindlessly kicking off his boots and then to you.
“Gem, I know you have taken one as well, but I highly recommend you freeze me and lock yourself in the cockpit or the bunk before Mando loses his grip. He took two. And even with one arm and in a good bit of pain I find myself unlikely to hold back if this settles in further. I have no desire to harm you, especially against your will. I don't imagine he does either, but we may not be in control much longer.”
Your eyes are hazy, glassy, breath catching in your chest as you frown, deciphering Ezra’s words while the rest of your vision blurs. Your body heat feels doubled- tripled with both of the men’s suffering assaulting your heightened Force senses. Din is already sloughing his gambeson and flightsuit, leaving the armor attached to the connection points at shoulders and thighs, his breathing labored. Soon he is down to his compression bottoms and a ratty-soft liner shirt and the helmet, the neck stretched wide. You stare at his flushed bronze skin and the beginning of a thatch of chest hair peeking out of the neckline and lick your dry lips, abruptly very eager for a taste of the salt of him.
Both of them.
“Iisa, please. I don’t– what the fuck,” Din groans desperately, dropping his helmeted forehead to the durasteel floor. He’s got both arms crossed around his stomach, heaving deep breaths as if all the air being circulated by the scrubber is not enough.
“Mando, I suggest you come over here and slake that particular thirst with me, unless your partner is willing. You can take me if you like; I must admit the desire is mutual, and I do not mind being the passive party, especially considering neither my balance nor dexterity is what it once was.”
Din is already crawling across the space to the pallet, gripping Ezra’s ankle and tugging desperately until the other man is dragged to the edge of the nest of blankets. He mantles over Ezra and pauses, tips the helmet back and up to face you, still kneeling nearby. “Go up and lock yourself in the cockpit, or join us, cyar. I can't guarantee you won’t be– touched if you stay- my control is– slipping.”
“I want to stay. I want to watch you. I want to- touch you. Both,” you add, your hands shaking as you run them thoughtlessly over your body. Your nerves light up at every press, even over your clothes. Suddenly it’s far too hot and, like Mando, you start tearing at your flight suit and smalls.
You cup your tits and warmth pools low in your belly, rising to a rolling boil as you watch Din whine low and demanding as he drags Ezra’s bottoms off, too impatient to shuck the man’s boots so his loose pants get caught. They have a quick struggle which ends in the bounty with one boot off and leg freed, and his pants twisted around the other ankle. With a frustrated growl, Mando shoves Ezra's shirt up to his armpits. May wriggles the top off, tugging one-handedly at Mando’s liner shirt until he drops his head forward and the stretched neckline slides easily over the helmet. He throws the garment to the side and takes one of Mando’s hands, bringing it up to his face.
“Yes. Get them wet,” he demands. Din drives three fingers past Ezra’s loquacious lips to wet them on his tongue. He draws them back a moment later, thoroughly soaked, to wrap a slicked fist around both their cocks. Ezra’s head falls back to the bedding with a thunk, a strangled groan squeezing out of him.
The bounty’s single hand can’t stay still, he roves it over his own chest down to where his legs are spread around Mando’s thickly muscled hips and then up, catching on a peaked brown smudge of nipple. He pinches it with a twist and grins quick at the rough sound it earns. Din growls at the tease and ruts his hips forward, gripping a bit tighter if the noise that punches out of them both is any indication.
Din wants very badly to rub his bare face against the man’s chest- your chest- any skin. It feels like every instinct he has is to bury his face in skin. It is incredibly frustrating to be unable to, but he has just enough coherence to keep his helmet on, for now. He hopes idly that you’ll have the wherewithal to slap the lights off if he tries to remove his helmet. He drops his forehead to Ezra’s sternum, avoiding the weal of pink scar tissue that has healed up nicely under the bacta patch, and whines low and plaintive. The drag of his fist and wet and heat on his cock is not enough.
“I don't know if I have slick,” he grits out, lifting the visor to face the bounty below him. Ezra blinks slow at him, frowning slightly before it clicks.
“I may have some in my satchel. Gem, where did you set it?” He turns to face you, legs snapping shut around Din’s hips as the Mandalorian squeezes them tighter and ruts harder.
You whimper, a hand in your smalls and flightsuit shucked to your waist. Both men snap their attention to you at the sound and slow in their rutting. Din reaches his other hand out and makes grabby hands at you, seemingly past the capability of words.
“Gem, get the slick, then take off that suit and come sit on my face,” Ezra growls, rutting up against Din anew until the man plants a fist by his head and drives down, deeper and harder.
"Maker, yes, iisa. Do that," Din says.
You dump Ezra's bag on the floor and find the vial easily enough. You then squirm the rest of the way out of your suit and crawl over, eager and desperate for the press of skin on yours. Your own skin feels too tight, flushed and overheated.
“I want to–” you start, gasping when you reach them and Din pushes your face down to Ezra’s lips, coaxing you both into a desperate kiss that is mostly tongue and teeth and not much skill. Ezra clings to you with his hand, his belly flexing with the force of Mando's jarring thrusts from below.
“Come here, precious thing. Bring your leg over. There you go. Come down to me- I can’t quite–” he drags your hips down with a yank and your mound crashes into his mouth. The vial of slick skitters off toward the shelves, unneeded for now.
He growls into you, the vibration lighting up your entire body and you throw your head back, nails sliding on his chest, narrowly avoiding the bacta patch at the base of his sternum. You're kneeling over Ezra's head, facing Mando, struggling to keep your knees planted under the assault that is Ezra laving broad strokes through your folds and sucking on your clit in turns. His arm is an iron band just above your ass, keeping you planted on him. His nails are pressed into your opposite hip, a tiny bite of pain to accentuate all the swirling pleasure. Sweat beads on your skin, blood thrumming with need and lust and desire.
Ezra's tongue winds you up tighter and tighter, his hand alternately squeezing your cheek roughly before drifting round to cup and knead your breast. He thumbs your peak before he slides across to the other with a low hum of satisfaction into your core. You push your chest into his palm and, when he brings his hand back to pull you back down to his mouth, you tip forward and curl your tongue around the perfectly twinned tips of their cocks peeking out of Din’s fist. Din makes a choked noise and pushes his own cockhead at your lips, throwing his head back when you suckle them both at the same time. As a reward, Ezra flattens his tongue against you and encourages your hips to start grinding on his face.
“Bring yourself to completion on my tongue, gem. I want to drink from your fountain before our friend truly loses himself. I believe watching you come on my face will be the tipping point.”
You do exactly as you are told, planting both hands on Ezra’s chest and riding his face until you shatter. As you shiver through the come down, you abruptly want them both, desperately. You wildly consider fitting them both inside, somehow. But before the thought accumulates steam, Din is wracked with a wave of lust a good deal stronger than you or Ezra are feeling. He did take two tablets, after all.
Din makes a low, desperate sound and reaches for you. “Cyar. Please, can I?”
“Din. Please, yes. Come, come here,” you slip and use his name, but he barely notices, only enough to tip his head briefly in confusion as you drag him away from wedging between Ezra’s thighs and urge him behind you. “Give me your cock. I need it! I feel so empty,” you complain, grinding back against him when he kneels behind you, over Ezra’s crown.
“Mando, let me get you good and wet for our gem. Put that in my mouth before you spear into them,” he laves over you once more and tips his head back, catching the head of Din’s cock as it throbs downward, making the Mandalorian shudder at the sudden warmth and wet.
“Ours?” Din murmurs distractedly before it dissolves into a heady groan at whatever Ezra does with his tongue. He thrusts forward into the man’s throat and Ezra soaks his cock, thick spit clinging to the tip as Din pulls away and notches the head at your weeping entrance. "Iisa. Ours."
You bend forward and drop your mouth over Ezra’s turgid length just as Din pushes inside you to the hilt, his fat cock stretching you beautifully. You both groan at the stretch and tight squeeze, respectively. Din pushes his forehead into the dip between your shoulder blades and grinds his hips forward, staying sheathed deep.
“Oh! Oh, gem, my dear, your mouth– please!” Ezra paws at you desperately when you lift off to gasp, but you take him back in eagerly when he tugs on your shoulder. His stomach tenses to hardness when he lifts his head up, lapping at your apex while the rest of you is stretched tight around Din’s girth. His tongue traces where you are joined and Din makes a low sound that is barely human. Ezra’s hand can’t be still- he roams it over you and Din each, finally squeezing the Mandalorian’s muscular ass and encouraging him to thrust a bit more energetically, which drags your clit over the bounty’s tongue with each push.
“Oh, fffffuck,” Mando grits when you clench around him at Ezra’s additional stimulation, milking his cock with a rhythmic squeeze. He pulls out slowly, snapping his hips back in and pounding against that deep spot, high up by your cervix. It makes your eyes roll back, your jaw slack around Ezra's girth as you suck in a breath, and you feel the abrupt urge to pee and clench that much tighter, which just makes Din do it again.
Ezra’s tongue drags upward down Mando’s shaft and over his tightening balls, sucking one fuzzed globe into his mouth before Din pulls back and repeats the thrust, tilting this time to hammer repeatedly into that same spot. Ezra’s hand slides from around your hips to your belly, pressing up between your hipbones with the backs of his knuckles, pushing your deepest spot down until you're sure to shower him with your cum if Din keeps up the punishing strokes. He returns to sucking your clit, kneading the bud carefully between his tongue and teeth.
“Boss, I do believe our gem deserves to be filled with your seed. Pump this gorgeous pussy full, so I can clean it up,” he demands, urging Din on. His thrusts become more brutal, his hands gripping your hips turning to a bruising strength, and you love it.
“Yes- yes, Mando! Fill me up. I need your cum,” you gasp, thrusting your hips back on him. He growls beneath the helmet, the sound coming out flat and that much more grating for it.
You can feel your orgasm building low and insistent in your belly, the swelling heat and pressure of it blooming outward into every extremity. Ezra flattens his tongue against your clit, giving you something to grind against when Din knocks your hips forward. You suck weakly at the cock in your mouth, using your hand to move over what you can’t manage in the moment, more applying tongue and wetness and heat than anything akin to actual talent but Ezra seems to be loving it. His hand presses up on your belly again just when Din nails you deep and holds your head down on Ezra’s dick, and you– break.
Your cunt grips tight around where Din is buried deep, all the way to the hilt, grinding in firmly and giving you something substantial to milk. A gush of your juices flows into Ezra’s mouth as you choke on his cock, your whole body clenching and releasing in a full-body orgasm that steals the last wisps of your breath.
With a chest-deep groan, Din’s head falls forward again with an unforgiving thump of helmet against your shoulder. He grinds deep, coming with a ragged gasp as your insides milk an orgasm out of him that seems to last forever. He absolutely floods your channel, his movements making it gush out with every thrust and grind.
Ezra pops his hips upward, sucking greedily on your soaked folds, lapping your combined come, and dragging his tongue hungrily up the hard rib on the underside Din’s cock. Gasping and still rock hard, the Mandalorian pulls out of you and buries his soaked and still- hard length between Ezra's lips instead.
When he pulls out, Ezra picks up a low chant, murmuring depraved things about the taste of your perfect pussy, the salt of Mando’s come, your heat and wetness and deliciously slick insides. He buries his tongue in your channel, sucking more come out. The bounty thrusts up into your throat once- twice, and Din finally lets you pull away enough to breathe just as Ezra floods your mouth.
“Ffffuck,” Ezra cries out, turning his face into your thigh as he shakes through his orgasm, clinging to your body collapsed onto his. “It has- oh! Been a long time since I received such attentions, gem- forgive my abrupt– fffffff! Finish!”
You barely have time to swallow before Mando is already dragging at your hips again, rutting up along the cleft between your cheeks despite your still-pulsing cunt. He’s still rock hard and stifling a petulant groan. You pull away and he whines but lets go, only to turn his demanding hands on Ezra.
“Let a man breathe, Mando,” the man gripes, swatting uselessly at the hands grabbing him.
“I’m sorry. It’s– maybe you should freeze me,” Mando says to you, and you scoff.
“Not a chance,” you pant, and flop to the side off of Ezra’s chest.
He keeps his hand braced on Din’s ribs, asking for a moment to recover. “Would an intercrural rut suffice while I catch my breath, tin man?”
Din simply growls at the nickname and crawls back down over the other man, rolling them to their left sides and spooning up behind him. You watch, enraptured and overheated, noting with curiosity how very similar their bodies are. The mushroomed tip of Mando’s unceasing erection peeks in and out of the clench of Ezra’s thighs, made slippery by the slick you left on Mando’s cock. Din’s fingers claw at Ezra's chest and belly, holding him almost too-tightly. You feel the ghost of that grip on your hips and groan, feeling yourself leak afresh at the memory.
“Iisa, please. Are you alright? Did we–?” Din presses his forehead against the knot of Ezra’s right shoulderblade, growling at his loss of words. He can’t focus. Luckily, you and Ezra are more clear minded, if no less under the influence of extreme arousal.
“I’m fine, Mando. Just need a breather. Not everyone has highly- trained stamina and endurance,” you chuckle, rolling back toward the men. Ezra lays on his left side, hooking his ankles together to tighten the squeeze. Mando seems to appreciate it; his hips stutter forward sharply.
“I can’t- I don't think I can come like this. It’s not enough. I need– inside something. Friction isn't– enough,” he grits out, hands wandering down Ezra’s torso to drag his top leg back and up over his hip.
“Easy, boss. You can't go jammin’ that weapon in there without some prep, and something to ease the way. How about you come up here and abuse my mouth again, and we’ll see to the other, after, if you are still in need? Our gem and I seem to be faring better with the foggy mind. Perhaps another orgasm or two will help you?”
You prop against the adjacent wall of the hull and watch in abject fascination and want as Din crawls over Ezra, shoves him to his back, plants his knees in the man’s armpits, and feeds him his cock.
“Maker,” you sigh, a hand drifting thoughtlessly to cup your throbbing cunt. The tease of the touch is enough to make your legs shiver shut around your hand.
Ezra, for his part, takes Mando’s cock down his throat skillfully and a little greedily. He talks - filthy things- when Din slides out too far. It makes Mando growl and thrust deeper when he goes back in, which makes Ezra grin around his girth like he's won something.
“What I wouldn't give to set my mouth on every inch of you, you gorgeous thing,” he says before being choked on the fat tip nudging past his tonsils. You watch as the bounty simply rolls his head side to side to make it fit better, even deeper. Mando whines and shakes his head, already desperate for a kiss and struggling to recall why his damned helmet is still on. “I bet you are pretty, aren’t you?” Ezra drags his hand up Din’s torso, thumbing his nipples, tweaking one meanly.
“Tight body, pretty cock- why wouldn't your face match? It’s quite a sin and sacrifice to keep that mouth all to yourself, don't you think? Though at least you are willing to share this,” he tongues the throbbing head of Din’s prick bobbing against his lips, sucking the head methodically, working the tip of his tongue into the slit and grinning with Mando whines and shivers at the focused stimulation.
“Iisa,” he pants, gripping Ezra's wrist as his hand slides down his belly. He pins the man’s arm to the floor above May's head and thrusts deep and slow a few times, relishing how deeply Ezra takes it in his throat without struggle, though tears are brimming in the corners of his eyes. Din catches his breath when he slides all the way out and holds himself there, balances on his knees and one fist, the other hand still pinning Ezra's.
Your eyes are locked on the way Ezra breathes like a fighting bull up at him, nostrils flared, brow furrowed, fingers curled around the back of Din’s hand, jaw stretched wide around his girth. Your own fingers are absently strumming your seam, gently stimulating yourself back toward desperation. Din calls your name and your eyes flick up to meet the impassive visor, in stark contrast from the rest of his body language, broadcasting his need.
“The lights,” Mando prompts, and your breath punches out of your chest. He's going to take it off.
Belatedly, you reach up and slap the lights off. The only glow is from various controls dotted around panels in the hull, red and blue and a dim, grimy white that gives off the impression of shadows only- no details in the bleached space, only black form over an indistinct background. You hear the helmet grate across the floor and the wet sound of a mouth on something before Ezra (you think- they sound so similar) groans low and needy.
You crawl back to the pallet and find the men where they were, only now Din is bent double and plundering Ezra’s mouth with his tongue instead of his cock.
“Boss, I strongly– urge you to give our gem the gift of your mouth while you can. Let me attend to the fires down below,” he pants between kisses. You reach out to card your fingers through his hair and can feel that Din still has him fully pinned. In the next breath, Mando has you swept up to his chest with both arms around your back and he licks into your mouth, groaning into you as Ezra swallows him again, a pioneering finger tracing over his hole from behind.
“Cyar,” Din breathes against your lips. “Sit on his dick, while I fuck his mouth.” He grins against your lips when Ezra groans in disbelief beneath him and you scramble to obey, giddy off the high of feeling Din smile against your mouth, rather than hearing it through the vocoder. Din dismounts Ezra’s chest and turns, pinning his arm again, under a shin this time, and feeding the bounty his balls while he strokes himself. He hears you slick Ezra with your cunt by sandwiching it between your seam and his belly and rutting along the length before you position yourself over him.
You grip Ezra in your hand and can already tell the difference, even in the dark. Ezra’s cock is a bit leaner than Din's, though they are remarkably similar in both look and form. Each the full length from your fingertips to the heel of your palm, both uncut and a ruddy brownish-pink and flushed at the tip, framed with a thatch of tidy, dark curls and nicely bundled balls. Mando was perhaps a bit girthier, but then so was he compared to Ezra’s malnourished and ill frame.
When you line up and drag your dripping cunt over his length, you can feel Ezra’s whole body vibrate with a groan that is echoed when Din pulls back. He feeds Ezra his cock just as you sink down on the man’s length, ripping a desperate sound from his throat which vibrates around Mando’s root. Din can feel the forearm pinned under him scrabbling for something to hold onto. He adjusts and drags the hand up, holding it against his own chest as he tips his hips down. You grind forward, settling Ezra deep inside you.
“Come here, iisa. Give me your mouth,” you gasp at the softness of Din’s voice, unmodulated and hopelessly endearing. Your mouth meets his, cautious but desperate. He encourages you to o0en your lips, so he can tease your tongue with his own. It's not skilled, of course- how could he be? But the kiss goes from exploratory to hungry in seconds. Din licks into you, a low growl rumbling in his chest as Ezra swallows around him. He works his hand from Din’s grasp and grips your hip, rutting up into you and sucking desperately at the length on his tongue.
“Make him come,” Din demands, breathy and demanding, and you nearly swoon. Your core tightens impossibly when Ezra thumbs your clit, winding tighter until it snaps and your stomach unspools in clenching and releasing spasms. Your limbs feel heavy, legs no longer wanting to work as you try to lift and drop again. Under your hands, Ezra's belly is taut with tension, his hips working against your weight for a few more thrusts to meet his own end now that you have been sated.
Ezra clamps a hand on your hip and whines around Din, the onslaught of sensation almost too much before he simply- snaps. You feel him pulse and spill inside you, painting your insides that are already slick from Din’s come moments before, and you drop your weight, seating him deep, overwhelmed and incredibly tired. Mando is not anywhere near finished, though. The thought occurs that he might fuck you both unconscious before his stamina and the spice wears off.
“Kriff,” you groan, sliding forward off Ezra’s cock, your gushing-slick passage leaking all over his soft, lean belly. The man sucks harder at the length in his mouth and Din moans- the sound heady and desperate without the flattening of the vocoder- and spills on his tongue.
“Oh kriff is– is right, iisa.” Din flops bonelessly to the side, facing up but with his head by Ezra’s hip. You are still straddling Ezra's waist, but you list to the side as Din tugs you down between them
“You know my name,” he says quietly, brushing the hair off your sweaty face with soft, callused fingertips. You snort and duck your head.
“Yeah, ah- I think the kid thought it by accident once when our connection was open. I think it was an accident anyway. He makes sure I can't see your face in his memories, but that one slipped through, I guess.”
“I don't mind.” He pushes your foreheads together and you sigh, relaxing.
Ezra simply lays there and enjoys the afterglow, his face buoyed on your chest. The worst of the spice is out of your and his system, and the pain is creeping back into the wound and the knot of his shoulder. He speaks up:
“How are you faring, boss? Has the spice run its course through you, or are you still in the throes?”
Mando hesitates for a moment. “I am still painfully hard, though not as– inebriated as I was. I can- maybe make do,” he starts to pull away but you and Ezra tug at him.
“I said you could fuck me and I meant it,” Ezra chuckles, and the wind punches out of Din’s chest.
“I– yes. Please,” he asks.
“Well then. Did we find that slick, gem?” Ezra is already levering up to his elbow, letting Din paw at his hips til they are both on their knees. You pat around the floor, corner to corner, in search of the slick in the dark.
“Can you balance like this?” Mando checks in, pushing the bounty forward. He holds Ezra ‘round the ribs and supports his weight with ease, showing his strength. Ezra drops to his forearm with a grunt and wriggles, testing his weight and balance, before nodding.
“Yes. Just go slow, to start. I’m neither as turgid nor as numb to oversensitivity as you at the moment, boss. And I have already come twice under your and your partner’s skilled attentions, which I have not done in one sitting in a terribly long time.”
You crawl forward and pass off the vial of slick, accepting a searching, heated kiss as Din cups your face and drags you closer on your knees. “Lay under him, iisa. Meshurok,” he teases, calling you as Ezra does, in his own tongue. “Let him bury his face in these,” his hands drop and cup your breasts, kneading playfully. You huff and press another kiss to Din’s precious mouth before ducking to do as he says.
“Well hello there, gem. I can’t see you, of course, but I can tell by the firming of this beautiful cheek against mine you are feeling quite ebullient.” Ezra nuzzles your face, tucking his nose under your ear, and gasps at something Mando does from behind. You feel his hips lift and push back, and a low groan pushes out of him into the soft skin of your throat.
“Come here,” you say, gripping his sweat-damp hair and turning his face up to your own for a sweet kiss. “I’ll hold you- just relax, pretty boy,” you coo, carding your hand through his sweaty hair. You tug at the blonde patch until he exhales hard and melts against your whole front.
“I don't think that particular label has ever been granted to my generally- undesirable person,” Ezra mumbles, gasping quietly again when Mando adds a second finger. "But I can't deny I do enjoy it coming from-- you."
“You must not have met many folk with eyes, then,” Mando quips, scissoring his fingers before Ezra can retort, though the one-two combo punches a breathy laugh out of him. Even if Ezra looks an uncanny amount like Mando, himself, he can compliment the man without it feeling too much like narcissism. For as much as they look alike, they are quite different.
“I agree,” you murmur into Ezra's soft hairline. The gentleness of you both gets to him, quicker than anything else has. Gets under his skin and into his heart.
“That I can – Oh! Oh shit, oh shit-” he pants, rocking back on Mando’s fingers now, hardening against your thigh, despite feeling like he couldn't possibly. He ducks his head to your breasts, nuzzling and then slipping his mouth over the soft swell of one, panting at what Mando’s doing from behind, gripping at you while trying to balance his weight. You push your chest up into his face, encouraging him to change to the other breast, sucking your nipple into the heat of his mouth. You arch into the stimulation and can’t help but tighten your knees around his ribs.
Din feels animalistic. As bad as any time he's been separated from the kid in a battle, but different. He wants to rut, fuck, come, mark– rub his scent and grip bruises into flesh. He ruts his painfully hard cock against a spare curve of flank and curves his hand upside down, his palm at the top of Ezra’s cleft and fingers still curled inside, draping his weight all along the man’s spine. He nuzzles his nose and mouth against the back of Ezra's head, into his dark, short curls. The man smells like your soap and antiperspirant, and the flame of desire in Din’s chest blows wide into a bonfire of pure lust. He rubs his face all over the back of Ezra’s neck and shoulders, reaching under him for you, palming a breast, stretching forward and sandwiching the man between you for a kiss.
“Mando,” you sigh, scritching at the scruff under his chin. You unerringly find the sparse spot on the left side and press a kiss to it. Ezra growls a little between you, feeling somewhat neglected, and turns his head into the right side, finding the matching spot there and dropping a wet smear of a kiss on it.
Din presses back up to his knees and withdraws his fingers, pushes back in with three, bares his teeth at the stretch around his knuckles. Ezra makes a desperate sound and ruts back on him, his voice muffled by burying his face back in your chest.
“I could expire here and now, and consider myself surprisingly lucky, even imprisoned as a bounty and missing my dominant arm. Between you two is heaven itself. Mando,” he cries out at the firm curl of fingertips over his prostate. “Get in me or do that harder, you are driving me to distraction, gentle-man-!” He demands, only to be cut off with a wheeze as Din fixes his slicked cockhead at Ezra’s softened entrance and pushes just inside.
Slowly, inexorably, Din presses onward until his hips are flush with Ezra's rump, all of him inside and suddenly wildly overheated. He waits, still, until Ezra tips his hips up in invitation before moving back and then returning with a much more sharp thrust.
“Oh– stars, just like that,” Ezra chokes, nuzzling into your breasts again, licking slow over one curve to find the tip and latch on. He can’t keep his balance and paw at you or reach for his cock, but he enjoys the assault of sensations for now. Mando is so deep inside, stretching him nearly to the point of burn but not quite. Despite the spice clouding his frontal lobe, Din did a good job stretching him to ease the way. Each pass over his prostate causes a jolt of nerves that light up his whole belly and down his legs. His shoulder pain is long forgotten. There is only your soft skin beneath him and Mando’s hardness inside him and raw strength behind him.
Mando sets a firm, rhythmic pace that has his hips slapping hard into Ezra’s spare ass as he drives forward, but he knows Ezra is not getting the stimulation he needs. It takes several minutes to convince himself, what with the drugs in his veins telling him otherwise. Eventually Din slows to a halt and pulls out. He chuckles at the disgruntled noise from above and flops to his back.
“Come here, May,” he grabs a lean thigh and hauls the man over in a show of strength, nearly dumping Ezra onto his face before he can steady himself.
“Kevva waits, you could have just said come ride me instead of yankin', boss! I can barely fuckin’ balance as it is.” Ezra grouses. He gets his knees under himself and adjusts his weight, surprised to find plenty of room for movement under his thighs with how broad Mando appears in all his armor.
“Sit,” Din demands, pulling on the man’s hips. Ezra quirks a grin in the dark and resists, planting a hand square on Din's heaving chest.
“Gem, you hear that? He’s losing those pretty manners of his,” Ezra huffs a delighted laugh when Din growls a please at him. He reaches behind himself, clumsy with his off hand, and lines that fat cock back up along his well-slicked crease.
“Yes, please,” Mando groans and his hips jolt upward as Ezra slides down his length, impaling himself in a smooth glide.
“Mando, this magnificent- turgid- specimen could cure ailments, I swear to the Maker. Every- spot- stimulated so perfectly. Oh!” Ezra pants as he grinds forward and back experimentally, his belly jumping under Din’s hand at the consistent torment on his swollen gland. Din fists his cock and Ezra growls: “Gem come here, gorgeous gemstone. Come here and join us.”
You have been watching their shadows move together since they rolled and adjusted, cupping between your legs where the flesh is hot and swollen, wet with the dregs of the spice in your system. You roll to your side and then up to your knees, dipping over Din’s face for a thorough kiss before following his hands, letting him push your face up to Ezra’s. The bounty cups his hand around the back or your neck and hauls you up, his hips rolling insistently against the length he's impaled on.
“Kiss me, sweet thing. I need– nngh!” Ezra shivers around a particularly brutal thrust against his prostate and kisses you like you’re his last meal. You're both growing tired, the spice waning from your systems, but the buzz for one more orgasm is just there under your skin. You let him lick into you, taking over with your own hand where he is fucking forward into his fist and then back against Mando.
“Yes, your hand- so soft- thank you, gem!” He plants his palm on Din’s heaving chest again for balance and works the cock in his ass, lifting and dropping, grinding and rutting. Mando makes some truly impressive sounds before pawing at you.
“Come here, iisa. Turn. Across- now sit. Now fuck him,” he hooks his thumbs around your hip bones and pushes you down, facing him and straddling his belly, in front of Ezra. He grabs Ezra's cock and guides it into you, making you both gasp.
“Oh– Kevva! I will not last in this state, Mando! Gem- your pussy is as perfect a fit as I could hope for. So wet- warm! Ngh!” Ezra, bless him, reaches forward and strums your clit messily with three fingers, working you up where you are already dripping and panting between them.
Mando grips your hips, wishing he could see, but he will take the trade gladly if tasting you both- kissing, licking, sucking- is in the cards. He realizes belatedly that he has not got his mouth on either of you yet. If you all survive this round and don’t tap out, he decides he will.
You howl as you come hard on Ezra's cock, collapsing forward into Din while you catch your breath behind his palm (he’s clapped it across your mouth to avoid you waking the kid). He scoops you close and pins you to him with his arms wrapped around your back, sucking your lower lip between his teeth, holding you still for Ezra to fuck into and ride Mando’s cock until they both explode.
“Oh shit- oh shit, oh shit ohshitohshit–” Ezra grits his teeth and his ass clamps down, sitting down as hard as he can on Din’s hips to get him deep, milk his balls empty while Ezra paints the swollen, hot edges of your cunt with the last weak dregs of his come. The last of the spice fizzles out and the ache bleeds back in with nothing to stymie it.
You each fall to a side of Din, starfished in the floor and chests heaving. Every bit of each of you is wet and sticky and exhausted. Din whines in the dark, a small movement catching in the dim glow of the lit buttons.
“I’m still fucking hard,” he complains, sounding more offended than anything. “Dank farrik. This is ridiculous!"
You can't help but laugh at the complaint. You pop your head up, confused by Ezra's silence. Is he asleep? You suppose it’s not entirely out of the question; you feel awfully close to sleep yourself. But then he speaks:
“Boss, I am not sure either of us has the stamina to go again, but if you can be patient a short while, I believe I can manage for you to use me to find your end, if nothing else.”
He hums in contentment when Mando glides a hand up his belly and chest, scritching fondly in the scruff under his chin. Din catches himself being so casual and forward and curses internally, forcing his hand to drop. He must really be out of it. Not only fucking a bounty but dragging you into it just because he didn't actually look at the bottle of meds he'd bought. The self- doubt creeps in, lingering like a thick cold slab on his chest until you curl a leg between his own and slide your whole front against his left side.
“Ezra. Get over here.” You grouse sleepily, reaching across to curl your fingers around his wrist, laying on his own chest, and pull at him til he rolls to his side and snuggles in close.
Your warmth and gentleness dissolves that slab on Din's chest as thoroughly as the kid does. He's come to rely on it, which feels dangerous.
Soon, Din notices that you have stopped moving and your breathing has evened out. He huffs quietly in vague amusement, warring with the concern he feels over the perpetual throbbing in his cock. The mental fog has dissipated, but he’s still horny as fuck and rock hard to prove it.
“Does the sonic on this vessel fit two?” Ezra stirs and interrupts his thoughts. Din blinks and turns his head to the other man, running a hand possessively down his side. His skin is starting to crawl again with heat and need, already. He feels like it will never be out of his system. "Not really."
“Nested together as we will no doubt be, we could probably manage. Your partner took such thorough care of me at the service station, and I hate for those efforts to remain reversed due to these -- sticky circumstances. A clean- up would not go amiss. I can feel your seed leakin’ outta my ass already, though you are assuredly about to plant more.”
“Shut up,” Din grouses, rolling them, making Ezra snort. He lays on Ezra, belly to belly and knees on either side of the man’s narrow hips. He leans heavy over the bounty and mouths over his collarbones, pressing his teeth into the knotted muscle of Ezra’s damaged shoulder. “Can I have you again?” he asks into the other man’s mouth, breathy and heated.
“Ah, you found your tongue and your manners again, Mando.” He chuckles with Din bites down on his lip with a growl. “Yes, and let it drain the last of this accursed spice from your system. You have spilled so much under its spell. I don’t think I can manage to come again, but you are welcome to try. At least until the oversensitivity assails me.”
Rather than responding, Din licks into his mouth, opening his jaw wide with a thumb pressed to his chin. The kiss is heated and exploratory, stealing Ezra’s breath away handily. He wriggles under the weight of the Mandalorian, worming his hand between them to grasp the man’s cock and give him a firm circle to thrust into.
Abruptly, Din grips Ezra by the elbow and hauls him over to his belly, caging the man with his own forearm braced on the ground beneath Ezra’s good shoulder, his stump against the ground and his face and upper chest mashed into the blankets. He is thoroughly pinned, especially once Mando plants his huge palm on the side of Ezra’s head, fingers tangling in his hair to keep his face pinned to the side. If he even possibly could at this stage, Ezra wagers he’d be a hair’s breadth from coming again.
Din spits on his fingers and wipes the wetness over the head of his dick, smears it across Ezra’s hole, and presses in. Ezra whines but grits his teeth, knowing that if he can get over the first painful rush of frayed nerves, it will turn sweet again. Thankfully, Mando is tiring out after four rounds in what must have been scarcely more than an hour or so. The prospector feels the first twinge of something good, low in his belly, and tips his hips up against Mando's snapping thrusts. His cock hangs heavy and not quite half-hard, thoroughly spent between his thighs. Din has a fistful of hair in one hand and a death grip on Ezra's hip with the other, keeping him pinned with his only arm rendered useless. All he can do is take it, and that unlocked a particular kink the bounty had been secreting away for a long while.
Too soon, Ezra gasps and his hips turn down with a sharp pain. “Too much,” he chokes, and thankfully Din has the wherewithal to withdraw gently and let him go. Ezra pants into the bedding, spooling back out from how tightly he’d clamped up from the rush of pain. “Apologies,” he says, and accepts the pat to the back of his thigh with only a little chagrin.
“Stop apologizing.”
At Ezra's sharp complaint, you had stirred with a deep breath, stretching on the pallet beside them. “Oh,” you sigh, enjoying the shapes of them moving against one another in the dark. “Mando, Ezra is too sore. Come here,” you yawn, scooting closer to them. You see Din pause, pulling away from the bounty and reaching for you.
“Thank you, gem. I am indeed weary, and the pain is inching back in with the spice on its way out. Forgive me, Mando.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Din murmurs, and latches his mouth onto your seam. He tastes himself and Ezra, you at the edges. It's intoxicating. You squirm under his attention but spear your fingers into his hair and he leans into it with a whine. He craves the softness as much as the spice is making him crave the roughness. Once you're sopping again and your juice is running down his chin, he pushes himself up to mantle over you, hooking your knees around his narrow hips.
You run your hands up from his waist, curving over firm muscles and soft skin, the puckering of scars here and there. You wind his sweaty curls around your fingers and tug, eliciting a groan. He shakes his head, finding everything at once- his head being touched along with all the skin contact, his own flesh crawling with need and the sweat pouring off him- overbearing.
You release him and let your hands travel again. His rump is small but fits blessedly in your palms, and the feel of your fingers closing over his ass urges him on. Din hums against your mouth and slides the length of his cock through your folds, a tease, smearing the wetness gathered there. He notches his head at your entrance and slides in.
Din drops down over you, elbows planted by your head, your thighs spread by his hips, knees and calves hooked over his ass. You reach up and run a hand up the side of his neck, over an ear, dragging him down for a searching kiss. He growls into your mouth, needy and tiring out, unable to purge those tablets from his system just yet.
“I want you to come on my cock,” he says, panting into your open mouth. You grin against him, exhausted and unsure if your body can enmven manage another orgasm. “Felt so good earlier. Again,” he demands, pushing up to slide a hand between you, flatten his thumb on your clit.
“Mando, I'm not sure I can. I’m so tired,” you whine even as you feel your core clench around him at the added stimulation.
“You can. What else do you need? I’ll give you anything, iisa. Tell me,” Din implores, bending his neck to lick down your throat. He nips at a collarbone, recalling dimly that you had thoroughly enjoyed Ezra’s mouth on your tits earlier. He ducks his head and noses, laves over a plush mound until he finds the peak of your nipple and sucks it into his mouth.
“Oh! Both- the other–!” You cry out, back arching as he hits that spot deep inside your cunt and sucks just right on your nipple.
Instead of switching, Din grips Ezra by the upper arm and hauls him over to his belly beside you. You drop a hand to reach for him too, and your hands bump when Din fists a hand in the man’s hair and drags him into place latch onto your other breast, all without pausing in the suckling of the one between his own lips. Ezra catches on quickly and, after a quick peck to your mouth he obeys Din’s demanding grip.
You sob out at the feel of it, two strong mouths sucking, nipping, and laving over your sensitive breasts while Din pummels away at your cervix, thumbing your clit, stretching your abused pussy on his cock and taking what he needs.
You feel a tightening, an impossible new winding-up in your core that seems to take all the muscles in your limbs with it. Din brushes your clit with his fingers again and you shatter, screaming behind your teeth, your face buried behind your palms to keep quiet because of the kid. Ezra mouths his way up your neck and claims your lips again, capturing your noises, letting Din drop his face into your sternum while he finds his end in your impossibly clenching insides. You’ve turned into a limp doll, boneless with exhaustion and at least four orgasms- damn, you lost count.
“Maker,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath with the weight of Din’s collapsed heft on your chest. “We’re disgusting. Dammit, Mando, I just washed him!” you snark, making the Mandalorian giggle into your skin. You crack up at the sound, struggling to laugh quietly as you feed off his suddenly effervescent joy. He rolls to his back between you and Ezra, the lot of you sweaty, sated, bone-tired and delirious.
“I’m not sure we can go to the service station just yet, iisa. I’m still –”
“Hard as a pike?” Ezra interjects, dropping his hand between Mando’s legs, earning a gasp. “Go to sleep, man. The lust seems to be over, even if your biology hasn't caught on quite yet.”
You all lay there a few moments more before Din’s soft snores are echoed by Ezra’s. You snort at them and roll to your knees, keen on a thorough wipe-down and a nap if the kid will stay down.
But of course, as all kids are prone to do, he wakes the minute you finish yanking Din’s bottoms back on. You’d wiped him and Ezra down with a damp cloth and slung the new bottoms on the bounty’s lower half, but Mando’s compression leggings were a squeeze for him, even when he wasn't passed out and deadweight.
Sighing, you scoop the kid up out of his hammock and take him up the ladder with a snack, leaving the lights off and Din’s helmet beside his shoulder on the pallet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I still have your arm,” Din says, apropos of nothing. He is checking the star chart as the Crest exits Coruscant’s atmosphere.
“Excuse me?” Ezra whips his head around to stare at the back of Din's helmet.
“Your arm. I slabbed it when we came back. You were unconscious.” Din sets the course and turns to find Grogu in the bounty’s lap with a tiny claw fisted in his tunic, staring up at him curiously. Ezra has his remaining arm hooked around the kid, making sure he doesn't fall off his perch on the man’s thigh.
“Why?”
Mando shrugs. “In case you died. Easy proof of destruction. But now… I'm thinking I might drop you somewhere else for a few days. Go to Canto Bight, turn in the arm, collect the lesser bounty. Pick you back up.” he pauses and the flat face of the helmet stares back at Ezra for a long moment, waiting on a response. He tips it to the side. "If you're interested."
Ezra, understandably, is flabbergasted. “Why?”
“Iisa likes you. The kid likes you,” Mando tips his forehead down at Grogu gurgling up at him. Ezra’s eyebrows shoot up and he stares down at the child. “Despite the fact that you never shut up, I like you. If you're not interested, I can cut you loose and still get the bounty.”
“No I– I appreciate the sentiment, Mando, I do. You’ll forgive my wariness, considering the circumstances. I am not accustomed to men wanting to keep me around for anything more than manual labor or to warm a bed, and even then only for a short venture. If I understand you- you are meaning for a while?”
“Until you want to leave,” Mando shrugs. “Same as any of us.”
Ezra chews his lip and his brow threads together. “And what does this life look like? A one-armed former prospector with little in the way of domestic skills, and a sharpshooting force-sensitive mechanic, and a force-wielding xeno child, and a bounty hunting Mandalorian living on a small gunship together with one bunk?”
To his great amusement, Mando actually snorts at him and ducks his head. Ezra grins and waits. “Exactly that. We make port most days, stretch our legs. When we’re in the stars, we stay above lightspeed and head to the next job. I’ve got- friends- all over, especially in the Outer Rim. Finding places to lay low for a few days isn’t a hardship.”
Ezra nods and thinks of you. They’d woken and Din had put on his helmet and tugged on his thin liner shirt and helped Ezra into his own tunic. After, they had discovered you dead asleep in the cockpit with the kid playing with his ball in your lap. Mando had scooped you up, limp as a ragdoll, and you'd remained sound asleep as he had lugged you down the ladder and into his bunk.
Ezra thinks he would very much enjoy more chances to wake up like that. Or in a tangle of all of you.
“Where will you leave me?”
“It’s a bit of a back track but you have two options. I can hide you with my covert on Glavis, or leave you with a friend on Tatooine. To be honest, I'd rather leave you on Tatooine. Harder for other hunters to find you in the Dune Sea, and environmentally safer for you. My covert is currently under the ring world, and footing is dangerous even with two arms for balance.”
“And you will come back?”
“Yes. I will leave iisa and the Child with you, if you like. My trip to collect the bounty from Canto Bight won’t take long.”
“Mercy, man. You’re offerin’ me a whole new life. I can’t simply accept that it’s just because you three like me.”
“Would you rather take your chances with your pissed- off investors?”
Ezra scowls at him. Din grins behind his visor. “Don't toy with my heart, Mando. You know I would not. It’s just going to take some accepting.”
“Well. We’ll be at Freetown in two days. Think on it. If you decide not to stay with us, I'm sure the Marshal can put you to work in his town somehow."
"And what? You would schedule conjugal visits?"
Mando snorts and turns back to his charts, setting coordinates for Tatooine. "If iisa wanted. If that's your intent I'd rather not leave you in Freetown, though. It might be a bit awkward for me to negotiate frequent visits."
"Ah, your lost love in the desert?"
He bites his lips against a knowing grin when he sees Mando's shoulders flatten with tension, but is surprised to get a response. "Something like that."
"Well then. A few days to stretch our legs and a pickup would suffice. And I'll let you know if it stops being sufficient. Do we have an accord, boss?"
Din turns around and eyes the hand Ezra has outstretched. After a beat, he takes it.
"Deal."
____________________ end _____________________
Comment, heart, rb if you enjoyed!
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#din djarin#the mandalorian#ezra (prospect)#prospect movie#prospect 2018#ezra/reader#din djarin/reader#ezra/din djarin/reader#sex pollen#sex pollen fic#marathon sex#smut#everyone is bi in SW#also on ao3#ao3 writer
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You know one of the biggest differences I've noticed between the original trilogy books and the new Ahsoka show?
In the books, absolutely no one knew who the kriff Thrawn was.
Pellaeon's still adjusting to a new commander, who he follows loyally, but doesn't 100% trust until book 2. The Republic doesn't even learn his name until the end of book 1, and they're still debating whether he's an actual Grand Admiral or self-declared through book 2.
All of the Thrawn's threat - all of his menace to the New Republic, all of his weight as an antagonist - are discovered by the reader at the same time the characters are finding it out.
It's the perfect balance of showing and telling - we get to see Thrawn gain victories by being clever, with Pellaeon. We get to hear about how nervous he makes Karrde - a character we've learned is brilliant and menacing in his own right, and makes our heroes nervous, so how much more must Thrawn be? We get to see him make brilliant deductions and turn up just in the right place and the right time to corner our heroes, again and again.
The Sluis Van attack buildup was perfect - we keep hearing about from Pellaeon, hearing that Thrawn's planning an attack and Pellaeon himself is a bit skeptical, but it's coming, how's it going to work? What's going to happen? Meanwhile the mole miners were stolen, and there's this new cloaking field, and how's it all going to come together...?
And suddenly Han's there, with Luke and Lando, and Wedge, and we're waiting with baited breath because we know it's all about to fall apart but how are our brilliant heroes going to get out of this one?
It's an amazing buildup, fantastic suspense, and really brings home the different perspectives of the characters. And establishes Thrawn as an actual, major threat, that everyone should be worried about.
But then in Ahsoka, it's like they've skipped straight to the Duology, when everyone knows who Thrawn is because he almost conquered the New Republic. But he hasn't done that, in canon, so we're left wondering why everyone's supposed to be worried when, as far as we've seen, he couldn't even beat Phoenix Squadron.
Heck, setting aside our own out of character knowledge, it makes Xiono look right. Who cares about a single Imperial warlord with a single half-destroyed ship? What's this guy actually done?
We know - those of us who know his story. But it's not shown. Why should the characters think him a threat? Why should we?
After all, all we've seen of him is Rebels. And in Rebels... he lost.
#my thoughts#started rereading dark force rising#and here we are#thinking of what we could have had#star wars#ahsoka#ahsoka show#ahsoka crit#visuals were stunning#i will say#but the story was a bit weak#filoni needs a tactical consultant#to help weave point a to point b#next season maybe#with the larger writing rooms#hopefully#captain pellaeon#gilad pellaeon#grand admiral thrawn#mitth'raw'nuruodo#thrawn trilogy#htte#heir to the empire#thrawn duology
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Ahsoka Tano is six years old and she has the most scars out of everyone in her class.
She shows them off proudly when people ask. The one on her knee is from climbing the trees in the temple gardens, she says. A thin white line wraps around her forearm from a mistake in saber training. Various scrapes and cuts cover her hands, and she rolls up the sleeves of her robes to show them off. They are badges of honor.
At ten years old, she is placed in the advanced saber classes with the older students. She meets a girl named Barriss Offee, the padawan of a high Master of the Jedi Counsel. Barriss is everything Ahsoka would expect her to be. She is calm, yet stern, and a master of soresu. She is the ideal padawan, a role model for the younglings that look up to her. She is everything Ahsoka wants to be.
Ahsoka is fourteen when the war breaks out.. 212 Jedi fight in the arena on Geonosis, fighting and dying for their republic. Ahsoka attends the funerals, as do all the other padawans. She watches the pyres bearing the crest of the Jedi order burn as the bodies return to the force from which they came. She scans the crowd until she finds Barriss, one of the 30 survivors of the massacre. She has her head down, firelight glinting off of the tear tracks on her cheeks.
A month later Ahsoka is sent out, apprenticed to the newly knighted Anakin Skywalker. She wasn’t stupid. She had heard all the rumors: that Skywalker was the chosen one, that he had joined the temple at the time he became a padawan, that he would save the order from darkness, and that Anakin Skywalker would end the war. She adjusted her saber on her belt as the gunship took her down to Christophsis. She cooly walked down the ramp and introduced herself.
Anakin Skywalker was… underwhelming.
He didn’t command her to silence with his voice, or stand proud at attention. He slouched, and he whined often. If this is the Hero Without Fear, Ahsoka thinks, then he will need all the help I can give him.
Ahsoka is in battle the day she turns fifteen. They are pushing the separatists back toward the northern end of the city on an occupied planet in the outer rim. Ahsoka slashes and cuts, ducking under droids; weaving in and out of the fray. Her free arm drifts far from her body, covered in bandages from all the times she has forgotten to cover it. At the end of the day, she receives a gift: materials for a new lightsaber and a promised trip to Ilum.
She adapts to her new lightsaber quickly, like a limb she was always missing. Soon, she is spinning and slashing so quickly that it is impossible for the untrained eye to tell limb from saber. She throws herself into battle with all the ferocity of the akul whose teeth now decorate her headdress. It is a mark of honor, she reminds herself, and preens with pride.
Ahsoka Tano is sixteen years old and she has the most scars out of everyone in her class. She no longer remembers the now faded scar on her knee from climbing in the temple garden. She can’t tell you where her new scars come from either. On rare occasions between battles, she returns to the temple to study. Her classmates stare at her; revere her. She is the padawan of the Hero Without Fear, she has fought beside the great Jedi masters, and she can beat any one of her classmates in a fight.
They notice she’s changed. Where she was once unsure, there is now cool confidence in herself and her comrades. She no longer boasts or shows off to her classmates. She is extraordinarily kind to the younger padawans, who all look up to her.
She still drums her fingers on her desk, looking for all the world as she would rather be doing more important things than sitting in a classroom. She still spaces out when others are talking to her, but everyone has noticed the way she is quick to draw her sabers, always sitting on the edge of her seat, always looking past her classmates as if searching the horizon for threats. Yes, Ahsoka Tano has changed.
She is still sixteen when she thinks she loses everything.
She is seventeen when she does.
Ahsoka Tano is eighteen years old and she stands vigil for a home she will never be able to return to.
#please excuse my grammar#I’m using commas like salt#there’s never enough until there’s suddenly way too much#star wars#star wars: the clone wars#ahsoka tano#barriss offee#anakin skywalker#jedi order#drabble#writing practice
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Some headcannons I have about Echo :)
Once he joined the 501st Ahsoka found him reading reg manuals and gave him a few books to read instead, he promptly became a bookworm and joined Ahsoka and Jesse’s book club
He was the better strategist and close combat fighter while Fives was the better shot and better with changing conditions
can hold his liquor surprisingly well
is responsible for 1/5th of Rex’s gray hairs
after joining the Bad Batch it took him a while to start gaining his weight and muscle back as well as his coordination
however once he did start to gain some strength back he basically put himself through his own version of ARC training to get himself back to fighting form
he is the best sparrer on the Bad Batch, something Crosshair learned the hard way when was in an argument with Echo and challenged him to a sparring match
The sniper was down in less than a minute
As Echo recovered the Bad Batch realized they might have bitten off more than they bargained for by taking on the ARC trooper
He challenged them all not just because his skills usually match up with theirs, but because he grew up being challenged by his vod, and the Bad Batch was largely sheltered from the other clones
None of them know how much older Echo is than them and he plans on keeping it that way
The batch regularly refers to Echo has mom, including Hunter
Hunter was actually happy they took Echo on because his plans were beginning to get predictable and Echo head a lot of experience, he also didn’t take shit from any of the bad batch and helped keep them in line
Echo can beat everyone in the Bad Batch except for Wrecker in an arm wrestling contest
Once told his squad to leave the droid base to him and they went “lol ok regy we’ll come help in 10 mins” and then 5 mins later the whole place blew up and Echo just strutted out and tossed the Tacticle Droids head to Hunter
Wrecker was jealous
Regularly scares the Batch with how well he holds his alcohol
Crosshair and Tech once challenged Echo to a drinking contest and got their asses handed to them
Was the only one that new anything about girls when they took Omega on because he spent so much time with Ahsoka
Does not like anything when it comes to water because he only has one arm and he weighs a lot more than he used to because of his metal legs
He got Omega into reading for fun when she got bored with the courses Tech made for her
#arc trooper echo#bad batch echo#echo headcannons#arc trooper echo headcannons#the bad batch#he's a mom#Ahsoka and Jesse had a book club because I said so#Echo grew up with a lot of brothers he knows how to wrestle#the bad batch is the equivalent of home schooled kids#Echo went to public school and set fires to the teachers desk#except the teacher was Rex#all those years of trouble have come back to bite him#its all Karma dealing with the Batch bs#he loves it tho
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The types my favourite Star Wars characters would fall for:
Includes Obi-Wan Kenobi, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Ahsoka Tano, and Captain Rex
————————————————————————
Obi-Wan Kenobi:
Obi-Wan is a man who needs some escapism in his life. He has devoted his entire life to the Jedi order, and he had followed the rules with much devout, but from time to time, things get too overwhelming for him. He’d fall for someone who’d shield him from those moments. A person who offers him solitude and warmth. It doesn’t necessarily have to be an affectionate s/o, words can have a large impact as well. Remind him that he is still there, and that the war will be over someday. Grab his hand, run your fingers through his hair, anything to get his mind off of the things going on in his life. A person to run to, who he can confide in. No one even knows about you, and Obi-Wan is keen on keeping it that way. Though Anakin has somewhat of an idea who you are, he’ll never say it, much to the delight of Obi-Wan. He even helps his master cover up when someone mentions you.
——
Leia Organa:
No one can convince me that Leia doesn’t absolutely adore authors. She loves to read when she has tiny moments to herself, and her collection is huge. She used to aspire to write a book herself one day, but she abandoned the idea after Alderaan fell. But then she meets you. And she reads your works and becomes inspired all over again. Because the language you use? Your manner of writing? Immaculate. She’ll ask for tiny blurbs often, being incredibly invested in your current works. Though her dreams of writing have long left her, this does not mean she wouldn’t want to not help you. She actually gives you a lot of inspired through stories told orally. The things she went through deserve to be written down, whether she does it or not. One day, you’ll surprise her with a bundle of the stories she told you, but written down in beautiful calligraphy. She becomes absolutely ecstatic. The usually stoic and stern Leia just bursts out laughing in glee, clutching the book in gratitude as she flips through the pages. After that, you cannot expect her to ever let you go.
——
Han Solo:
Han would be attracted to someone who is confident in every single definition of the word. Someone who knows exactly what they say, and means it. Someone who acts on promises, but also does things for their own if they want to. He’d be the person to fall for someone who goes to the mall in their pyjamas. Someone who genuinely doesn’t care about what others think. Bonus points if you like to make witty and/or sarcastic remarks. Playful banter is his way of flirting, and having someone who returns that gesture, makes him feel all woozy inside. Run along with his age old arguing with Lando, and this man is done for. This doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be exactly like him, but if you are able to match his energy, he falls. And there won’t even be a question about it. Sure, he approaches you out of looks at first, but once you return his pick up line with one of your own, he freezes and simply stares at you. He’d probably say something cheesy along the lines of “where have you been my entire life?”.
——
Poe Dameron:
GIVE THIS MAN A SUNSHINE S/O! Someone who makes him smile without missing a beat. Someone who runs around spreading glee to everyone around them. You’d think he’d be into the Han type - if you will - but he has a soft spot for the genuine things in this universe. Someone who is willing to try to make others happy, more than they wish to be happy themselves. And once he gets to know you, he begins to see this problem. Don’t get me wrong, he still loves the fact you are willing to cheer every single person up, but he sees it goes at cost of your love for yourself. And this man will remind you exactly how much you should love yourself: words, actions, affections, gifts; you name it, he does it. And he tends to pick up on your habits. Once it becomes too much for you, he’ll sit somewhere quiet with you and reverse the rolls. Now, he is trying to make you laugh. With jokes, stories or stupid faces. He doesn’t care. The first time he met you, he slipped over a droid because his eyes were glued onto you. You have always seen it as something he simply is: he is a clumsy person. In truth, he isn’t. He knows you think this, but you simply surprised him at your first meeting. But the incident made you laugh so much, he ‘accidentally’ walks against objects occasionally. Just to hear you laugh again.
——
Din Djarin:
Din is very much tough looks, sweet heart. His type would not be someone exactly like that, but he would completely into someone with a kind heart. As a bounty hunter, he’s had his fights and quarrels, so something kind is rare in his eyes. He’d meet you at a local pub, looking for his bounty, when you offer assistance. In your defence, you had no idea he was hunting. You thought he was going to visit an old friend of him. And that is what he initially told you. But after your entire journey, he found himself taking your kindness to his advantage. And it got you into some pretty serious danger. After finishing his bounty, he went back to get you. To properly apologise, for a start. And then you met Grogu, and the click was immediate. Your soft voice, gentle touch, cooing eyes. And that is when he knew he was done for. Now it’s all sunshine and sunshine protector with him. He will be the last person to ever take advantage of your kindness. Anyone else tries and they’re gone. Ironically, it is somewhat endearing.
——
Ahsoka Tano:
Ahsoka has a lot of energy. Sure, she can be calm, didactive, and observant, but she is a raging ball of energy. Lots of impulsive actions, whether they are good or not. She’d love someone who’d go with her head first into stupid decisions, but who could also tell her to calm it every so often. On missions, she is almost always at your side, or at least near you. When she tells the troopers to stay out, you can almost figure out her next move. Please, run to her and tell her to think it through, or at least to wait a little longer. She tends to be stubborn and will sometimes react that onto you, but she doesn’t mean it in a bad way. There will be times she has a huge dip in her mood. When she has spent all her energy, which usually happens after battles or rescue missions. Her face is planted into the pillows, groaning in exhaustion. Then, all she really needs is you to lay next to her. To use you as her pillow when you do. Your gentle breathing and the beating of your heart does miracles to her head. 10/10 would recommend Ahsoka cuddles.
——
Captain Rex:
Listen, Rex is exhausted. Like, 90% of the time. Completely done and half asleep. When he arrives back on Coruscant, he doesn’t return to his quarters. He runs straight to your apartment, tearing his armour off the second he sets foot in your room. You’re usually already fast asleep around the time he comes back home. He will wash up quickly before joining you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss in the crook of your neck and silently bidding you goodnight. He doesn’t need someone who will wake up for him, or get him gifts. Of course, the gesture goes appreciated, but he loves to simply have someone there for him. Someone he can go to after the war and simply lead a domestic life with. Baking apple pie, making the bed, grocery shopping, adopt a pet, maybe even marriage or kids. That’s what he wants most. He’s simply looking for someone who can offer that to him. Someone to settle down with, even when he is still in the midst of the war.
#christmas week with luna 2022#Star Wars#obi wan kenobi#obi wan x reader#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#han solo#han solo x reader#leia Organa#leia organa x reader#Ahsoka tano#ahsoka tano x reader#captain rex#captain rex x reader#din Djarin#din djarin x reader
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Home isn’t a place, it‘s a feeling.
pairing: Fem!Reader x Ezra Bridger
warnings: none, there’s fluff at the end
word count: 2,7k
summary: Home. Such a simple word and it still was so hard to describe. Since Ezra disappeared from your lives, you didn’t really acknowledge the building you lived in as your home. It all changed though when an unauthorized imperial shuttle caught your attention.
authors note: Finally! I started writing this one last week 😭
however, we were ROBBED of Heras and Ezras hug, literally robbed.
anyway, here’s another ff dedicated to our underrated spaceboy c:
enjoy <3
Home.
Such a simple word.
And it still was so hard to describe.
Most people would say that it’s the place where you grew up.
Your house, your room or your Planet.
It’s meaning being completely forgotten.
To you it was more of an emotion then a place.
Memories and people that defined who you are today.
People that grew very important to you.
People that managed to work together, as a family.
People that made you feel safe.
How long has it been now?
10 years?
10 years since you last saw him?
10 years since you kept your hopes up for the best?
10 unimaginable long years that seemed to never have a happy ending for you?
10 years of living with the fear of not knowing if he survived or not?
If you knew better back then you wouldn’t have let Ezra go this easy as you did.
He told you that he’d be alright, that he’d be careful.
But when the purrgils took off with the Chimarea, jumping into hyperspace, somewhere into the unknown, you couldn’t help but feel helpless.
Helpless because you weren’t able to stop him.
Because you couldn’t do anything more then to watch him go.
That the last ‚I love you‘ he ever heard from you was from your filtered voice trough his comm link.
He was gone and nobody believed in his return, at least not the ones who’d have the resources to bring him back.
Only Hera, Sabine, Ahsoka and you were determined to find him.
When Ahsoka found a map, leading to a unknown galaxy, your hopes of finding him again went up. A feeling of excitement made it’s way back to you, a feeling you didn’t feel for a long time now.
There was still hope.
And when Hera told you that Ahsoka and Sabine made their way to possibly find Ezra, you couldn’t help but feel the most excited you ever felt during the last decade.
Little did you know that today was the day.
-
„I have a strange feeling about something..“
You, Chopper and Jacen were sitting on the ghosts couch, talking about different things.
Jacen often wanted to hear you tell him stories about the rebellion, about your missions, his father, his mother and ‚that guy‘ named Ezra.
He never met him, how could he?
Hearing you all talk about him most of the time confused Jacen, so he decided to take the things into his own hands and try to understand why everyone was so fond of him by hearing your stories about Ezra.
„About what?“
You asked the younger boy while you tried to pick the next story you wanted to tell him.
He just shrugged, looking around and then returning his gaze to you.
„I don’t know.. something just felt off earlier“
Just before you could answer anything to him you heard Heras voice calling out for you.
„y/n! I need you on the main hangar now, an unauthorized shuttle requested to land here“
She said, somehow stressed? But why? That wasn’t something new after all.
„Isn’t this something.. I don’t know… common?“
It was a small shuttle after all?
„It belongs to the empire“
Her voice was stern now, hiding something more important.
The empire? This whole thing just got more interesting.
„… and?“
„The shuttles ID is kinda old..“
This caught your full interest now.
„How old exactly?“
„…“
„Hera?“
„I don’t know how but..“
There was a short break before she continued to speak.
Trying to understand what was happening herself.
„The ID… is registered under Thrawns flagship..“
You expected everything, everything but this.
Your eyes widened at the news, you felt your heart starting to beat faster.
„The Chimaera…?“
„Yes.. this shuttle… somehow managed to return“
Jacen noticed the shift in your behavior, you seemed to be lost in your thoughts.
"Are you still there?"
He heard his mother ask you.
"y/n?"
Knowing that it was some star destroyer that 'took' Ezra away from you, he came to a conclusion of his own.
"That ship.."
He finally catched your Attention, you turned around, looking at him while he tried to find the right words.
"The Chimarea.. was this the ship that... uhmm.."
"Yes"
There was a silent moment between the three of you until Hera decided to speak up again.
„We don’t know who’s flying the shuttle right now but… You may want to find this out so I guess that you should start and make your way to the hangar“
„Okay“
„Take your blasters with you, just in case“
-
You made your way to the hangar. A lot of people were here, everyone holding his blasters tight, waiting for the shuttle to finally land.
Hera stood next to, both of you having your eyes trained on the unexpected visitor.
„Don’t shoot unless they try something stupid and Jacen, you stay behind“
Commanded Hera.
The shuttle now finally touched the hangars floor. The sound of the ramp opening now echoing freely around this place.
It took some seconds for the person to walk out but you soon recognized the stormtroopers armor. It was pretty worn, had a lot of scratches, even some fabric strips holding some parts together. Compared to the other imps, this was the dirtiest armor you’ve ever seen.
The person stepped put of the shuttle, his hands up, signaling that he didn’t want to start a fight.
Everyone including you and Hera raised his blasters, the trooper on gunpoint.
However, something about all of this felt off. Something was familiar to you but you didn’t know what exactly.
Whenever you looked at the armored person in front of you, you couldn’t help but think that it’s presence was familiar.
Not only that, but you felt the person staring at you trough his or hers visor.
Despite not being force sensitive at all, it almost felt like as if the force was trying to tell you something.
The way how the person was walking seemed familiar, even the way how they raised their hands.
Chopper seemed to recognize something though, not much time after the person left the shuttle, he started to roll towards him, you assumed that it was a man.
„Chopper!“
Hera was just as confused as everyone. The droid didn’t hesitate to roll up to this stranger, letting him even pat his head while he gave happy beeps from him for everyone to hear.
Was this really a stranger? Chopper recognized Someone so dear to him to even let him pat his stubborn head.
The first started to murmur, not knowing what to do. You at the other hand tried to solve this mystery.
The shuttle belonged to the Chimaera, the trooper seemed familiar to you and Chopper didn’t waste a second after realizing something you now tried to realize too.
Chimaera.. Chopper…. Stormtrooper.
Wait, this was a Stormtrooper… a Stormtroopers armor.
„Oh my..“
You gasped at the realization, your eyes wide as you let your blasters fall down.
„y/n..?“
Hera was even more confused by now. First her war criminal of a droid starts to warm up to some random stormtrooper who was supposed to be dead and now you seem to see something that she still can’t muster.
„This can’t be..“
You continued.
„I can’t believe this..“
Tears started to form at your eyes, threatening to spill over as you started to walk towards the said ‚trooper‘.
He never really moved his gaze away from you and as you started to walk towards him, he gave Chopper a last head pat before starting to make his way to you too.
„y/n..! What in the force are you doing?“
Hera wanted to go after you but she was stopped by her son.
„Stay back.. and watch“
He said, seeming to also know who the person behind that mask was.
„Tell me.. who is this?“
„You’ll soon find out“
You now just stood inches away from him.
He lowered his hands, standing still, seeming to be overwhelmed by something.
And you knew what that something was, depending if your guess of him was right.
„I can’t believe this..“
You started, looking up to him to where you assumed where his eyes.
„After 10 years…“
You trailed off, moving your hands up to his face, placing them on the helmet as you tears started to spill over.
„You came back…“
There was a shiver in your voice when you managed to break the lock, slowly taking of his helmet.
„Please.. please let it be you“
You removed the helmet as gently as you could, holding it while you found yourself mesmerized once again.
Vibrant blue eyes were looking straight to your eyes. The same loving look you used to see on a daily basis a decade ago.
His hair had grown since the last time you saw him, his curls pressed because of the helmet. He even had a beard.
You were at a loss of words, it was him. Ezra.
Your Ezra.
„Hey y/n… it’s me.. it’s really me..“
He said, his eyes never leaving yours as you let the helmet fall.
As if you were acting by some hidden instinct, you threw your arms around him, taking him into the most heartfelt embrace you’ve ever given to anyone in your whole life.
Your tears had no barriers now as you let them stream down freely.
„Don’t you ever dare to do this again..!“
Was all you managed to say between your sobs.
Ezra didn’t waste any second, wrapping you tight in his arms while you two fell down to your knees, holding each other close.
„Ezra..“
Hera was shocked, speechless, not knowing what the hell was happening right now. Jacen at the other hand smiled, sensing the relief in her. Something he didn’t sense in her for a long time now.
„Given them a moment.. I have a feeling that they need it“
He then said, looking back to the reunited couple.
„I missed you so much“
You heard him say, the shakiest you’ve ever heard his voice.
„The thought of you was the only thing that kept me sane..“
He said while you nuzzled your head in his neck, not wanting to ever let go of him again.
„Knowing that this day would come“
You felt something wet drip on your cheek, you raised your head from where it was resting on his shoulder to look at him.
His eyes were filled with tears. He seemed to be happy, relieved… at peace.
Nobody except him knew what he had to face until he was finally back.
What horrors he had to endure while he was stranded somewhere alone.
Something in his eyes told you that he didn’t care about anything that had happened in the past 10 years, instead they seemed to tell you something else.
Something that the both of you knew.
Everything that mattered right now was that he was back, back by your side.. back to the people that cared for him.
„You’re an idiot.. do you know that?“
You somehow managed to chuckle while you looked at his loving eyes.
And there it was, there was the smirk he used to give you whenever he tried to be romantic.
„I‘m your idiot“
„That’s correct“
The last time you heard his voice was when he used the force to talk to you all for one last time before he disappeared.
It also reminded you that the last time he heard your voice was through the filtered comm link.
„I love you“
You moved your hand to cup his cheek, the once which still held his prominent scars.
And he did it too, he placed his hand on the lower side of your face, his other still wrapped tightly around your body.
„I love you too“
Your faces moved closer and when they were close enough, you connected your lips, sharing a long kiss.
It somehow replaced everything you both could’ve said to each other.
You both didn’t say a word, deepening the kiss while you didn’t let go of each other.
As of you were both scared that the other would vanish the second you’d loose the grip on the other.
Chopper started to beep in a teasing way, catching you both off guard as he managed to get a chuckle from Ezra.
You pulled apart and, while you both still held each other close, you also felt a warm feeling inside you. Safety.
A few seconds passed and the sound of boots walking closer to you got louder.
Ezra looked over your shoulder and his eyes widened again.
„Welcome home.. Ezra“
Hera stood in front of them, fighting against her own tears as she looked at her, technically, ‚adopted son‘.
She knelt down to be on the same level as you two.
„Can I..?“
She asked and you two instantly pulled her closer into your hug.
Let’s just say that it was a very heartwarming reunion.
-
A week passed now since Ezra’s arrival.
You invited him to live with you in your apartment, even offering him the other side of your bed.
Which indeed was an act of true love for you since your most treasured furniture was your bed.
Your sleep being the only thing that you enjoyed.
Considering this, letting him have the other half was indeed something very important to you.
However, there was something different now.
For 10 years you somehow developed a feeling that didn’t seem right.
This was the place where you lived, the place where you spent day and night.
But you never felt complete here.
No matter how much you‘d add there, be it any kind of furniture or decoration, there was something missing.
Something or better.. someone.
With Ezra being back, the building that most of the people would call home, was finally complete.
It’s crazy that you lived here for many years now but you never felt that it was your home. Not until he was again right by your side.
You were cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest.
It was early in the morning and he was still sleeping.
You at the other hand were already awake, nuzzling your face against him.
The effect he had on you was crazy.
And he made you realize something.
No matter where you were, where you lived or where you stayed.
No matter the conditions.
Wherever you were.. wherever he was with you..
That’d be the place you’d call your home.
Because even if you lived here for many years, you never really felt at home.
But since the moment he returned, this warm feeling of knowing that you had somewhere to go.. the word ‚home‘ instantly regained its meaning for you.
He made you feel safe, loved and cared for.
He was your safe space.
Your everything.
Deep in your heart you knew the answer to the question you used to ask yourself in the past years.
He was your home.
And you were his.
He didn’t tell this to you but when he was back in Perridea, he of corse didn’t feel at home at all.
Not only because he was trapped in another galaxy. No.
He even had his own ‚home‘ when he travelled with his new friends.
He spent 10 years of his life there and not one of those years, not even for a second, he was able to somehow feel as if he had a home there.
Because you weren’t there.
And when he came back, when he walked off that Shuttle.
When he finally looked into your eyes.
He instantly felt something that literal buildings didn’t manage to do.
He felt at home.
In his case, his home wasn’t just a lifeless building… instead it was something bigger… a Person.
The Person he wanted to spend his entire life with.
You.
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even MORE modern au
bc i was looking at someone else's doodles and got inspired.
Quinlan and Aayla have their own little soap opera going on next door involving Bly, Ventress, and Aayla's bio mom but you only get snippets bc Ahsoka isn't paying attention
Obi-Wan and Satine have a running joke that he married her because she beat him at chess and he couldn't figure out how else to react
Cody is a coach at a neighboring high school (not the high school that the kids in his neighborhood attend) and also teaches geography
If the au were in its Ideal Form (television sitcom) you wouldn't see Fox's face (wearing sunglasses, head out of frame, back to camera, etc.) until he meets Riyo for the first time, at which point he lowers his mirrored shades to look her in the eyes properly.
Tup draws. constantly. if you leave a piece of paper near him for longer than two minutes it will come away with a doodle
Everyone has basically forgotten that nuclear families are the "norm" bc this neighborhood is just so full of unusual family constructions. Couple raising nephew, younger brother, and adopted daughter? Sure! Single dad and daughter? Great! Aunt and niece? Welcome to the club! An unspecified but very large rotating group of "brothers" with no parents around? Why not!
Ahsoka Rex and Anakin have an eclectic tiktok account/yt channel that’s mostly just them doing a bunch of random stuff. Ahsoka’s skincare routine, Rex and Anakin teaching you how to properly throw a football, Anakin working on his car, comedy sketches, etc.
They have one video of them attempting to make a pineapple upside down cake that did go semi-viral bc there’s a shot where you can see Obi-Wan walking into the kitchen, seeing the mess, and going through all five stages of grief in the background
Baby Leia has Obi-Wan wrapped around her little finger for the first ten or so years of her life
Yoda gives out one (1) full size candy bar every Halloween to the most impressive costume, which creates an unofficial costume contest. he has super weird criteria for "impressive," though, and it seems to shift from year to year...
Mace LOVES scavenger hunts (a la Ron Swanson) and Depa sets up increasingly complicated ones for his birthday each year (tbh I might not limit this one to the modern au)
#tcw modern au#i need more motivation to write this so pls feel free to inbox me about it here or on my writing blog if you want#star wars#sw#obi wan kenobi#tcw#the clone wars#satine kryze#tup#commander fox#foxiyo#riyo chuchi#quinlan vos#commander bly#aayla secura#blyla#i guess#commander cody#asajj ventress
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We thought you knew
So this idea is both undeniably crack, and an AU of the Rako Hardeen arc.
The first thing to be aware of is that not a single member of the Jedi council is taking the threat against the Chancellor seriously. The analysts of the Jedi Shadows, the intelligence portion of the Jedi, all agree. The only way that this attack against the Chancellor is actually a viable threat is if the Chancellor is a Sith, and the mastermind behind the attempt. And nobody believes that the Chancellor is a Sith.
The council does decide to fake Obi Wan’s death to send him under cover, but it is only because the Chancellor seemed so proud to be contributing a plan. However they do not change Obi Wan’s face, they do not change his voice, they do not even make him give up the Jedi robes. The only attempt to change his appearance is that his hair and his beard were shaved.
They do not tell anyone that they are faking his death because they all thought it would be exceedingly obvious. Like the entire council thought that there was no way that Cad Bane or anyone else would fall for this, so they figured Obi Wan would be brought to the jail and then have to beat up a room full of criminals when he failed to convince them he was Rako Hardeen. Then they could all go back to figuring out how to win a war and try to get Obi Wan to take an actual vacation.
Note: To be fair, it was exceedingly obvious to 99% of the people who knew Obi Wan. Unfortunately Anakin fell into the 1%. So did the mercenaries Obi Wan needed to break out of prison with, and seemingly Count Dooku (Dooku knew who was there the whole time, but was under orders from Palpatine that this plan had to work). Ahsoka and the clones on the other hand, realized even before the funeral-due in part to the extended death scene that happened after Obi Wan was shot that had been written and directed by Mace Windu.
So Anakin is hunting down Obi Wan, in the guise of Hardeen, full of rage and grief. He is being followed at a distance by a troop of clones and Ahsoka. No one realizes until his first earnest attempt at murdering Hardeen that he is not acting. Every attempt to tell him what is going on is rebuffed in the most hilarious way possible. At one point he is fighting ‘Hardeen’ and first Ahsoka, then Cody, then Rex, then an odd assortment of other clones, then Padme (and inexplicably Yoda, who was not even on that planet at the time), each scream at him that ‘Hardeen’ is really Obi Wan, with Obi Wan agreeing each time, getting progressively more out of breath. Anakin cries dramatically to the heavens that Hardeen is not Obi Wan, he killed Obi Wan and everyone else is in denial.
Obi Wan is following through the rough plan of the Chancellors, which was never polished into an ACTUAL plan, because no one thought it would get this far. There is also no good way to tell the enemy that you are undercover, but never thought it would get this far. Also the surreal suspicion that occurs because ‘this should not have worked and this should not be happening’. Both Dooku and Obi Wan spend a fair amount of time pretending this undercover thing worked and the Dooku has not called him Obi Wan the times while not around the mercenaries.
In the end Obi Wan was there to save the Chancellor, though that this attack happened at all is what clued the Jedi in to the Chancellor being the Sith. At some point Anakin pouts/is angry that Obi Wan didn’t tell Anakin that Obi Wan was Hardeen. Padme takes a moment to slap Anakin upside the head, because literally everyone told him that Obi Wan was Hardeen.
#star wars#star wars the clone wars#fanfiction prompt#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#star wars au#bamf obi wan#crack fic#rako hardeen arc
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HI LUMI 7,8 and 22 for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka If it's not too much? I hope you're well 🫶
7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?
Obi-Wan Kenobi - There are actually a lot of things I like that fandom does when it comes to Obi-Wan (so many great time travel fics, so many fics that explore the balance he has between being a troll versus genuinely caring about and helping people, so many fics that explore his love for the Jedi), but I think my favorite thing is that the majority of fandom seems like it went, "Yeah, Anakin Skywalker is the central character of that guy's life."
Whatever tone that takes, it's one of my favorite things about Obi-Wan Kenobi as a person, that he chose to dedicate his life to Anakin and no one meant more to him than Anakin, to the point that he couldn't see the truth depths of Anakin's fault lines, that he had to literally see Anakin murdering children to believe it, that even when he let Anakin go, he never was willing to turn his back on Anakin. Even when he knew it would mean his death, he left the choice in Anakin's hands, because that guy was so fundamental to who Obi-Wan Kenobi was.
Fandom often explores that through a myriad of ways, whether funny banter when they were younger, heartbreaking fic as Obi-Wan has to try to process all the feelings while on Tatooine, sweet reunion fic when Obi-Wan helps him over to the other side in the Force, or alternate universes where things went better.
Anakin is foundational to Obi-Wan's arc as a character and I love that so much of fandom reflects that, in such a myriad of creative ways!
Ahsoka Tano - I love that fandom has embraced that Ahsoka is often a disaster, that too often she gets put up on a pedestal of perfection to the point that it erases her actual personality. But when I come into our corner of fandom, we're all shrieking in delight when she does something dumb because it makes us love her more, it highlights that sometimes she makes amazing decisions, that she's a compassionate and wonderful person, but that she can also be hypocritical at times, that she takes decades to get over Anakin's betrayal, that she can have complicated feelings about the Jedi, but that ultimately she loved them and she would have gone home to them, that she is allowed the space to be a complicated, fascinating, interesting character.
8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?
Obi-Wan Kenobi - Answered here.
Ahsoka Tano - I dislike it when some in fandom don't actually seem to care about Ahsoka as a character and what she is actually like and just use her as a weapon to bash on the Jedi. Like, I can't and won't stop anyone if they disagree with my interpretation, there's room for us all, but I really dislike it when she's used for what feels like mean-spirited beating on characters that never actually did half of the stuff fandom accuses them of.
It's a disservice to her character just as much to cut out her warmer feelings, to use her as a mouthpiece rather than focus on who she is and what she believes.
I dislike it when fandom makes her perfect at the expense of other characters, like I am ALL FOR Ahsoka being amazing and incredible, let female characters be amazing and incredible!!!, but if it can only be done by making everyone around her terrible, then I'm not sure that actually says anything about how good she actually is.
I also really dislike it when fandom thinks that Ahsoka could have saved Anakin on Mustafar, because the whole point was that Obi-Wan and Padme couldn't do it and they really were trying, the whole point is that Anakin was choosing this, he was choosing to become Vader, and to say that Ahsoka could have saved him at a time when the entire story was that no one could, it breaks her character and the narrative, like let her be amazing on her own terms and in her own way, let her story be her story, rather than subsuming her into Anakin's story! (This is why that episode of Ahsoka worked so well for me, because he became part of her story, rather than the other way around and it worked so well there.)
22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?
Obi-Wan Kenobi - I like it when authors can balance that Anakin is the central figure of Obi-Wan's life, but that he is allowed to have his own reactions about what Anakin has done. He's allowed the space to be angry, to need distance for awhile, to need to work through his feelings about Anakin's betrayal of everything they stood for and his friendship with Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan doesn't need to put aside his own feelings immediately to go support Anakin.
Ultimately, Anakin is someone that Obi-Wan will always want to support, but I think he should be given space to sometimes struggle with getting there because, you know, baby murder is a hell of a thing to swallow down without chewing on it first!
Ahsoka Tano - I love when fic explores Ahsoka's relationships with other characters WITHOUT the expense of how Anakin is the central figure in her bigger story. I sometimes feel like Anakin is the only person she's ever allowed to interact with, when TCW went out of its way to show her having important relationships with Obi-Wan and Plo and Yoda and Luminara and Asajj and Rex and more.
So I love it when fic can explore those other relationships, too, because it makes her connection with Anakin feel so much more interesting, that she has this huge collection of people she's connected with and he still is the one that is most firmly lodged in her heart!
Also, my kingdom for more Ahsoka & Mace interaction fic where there's debris between them, but they clearly care about each other and are both deeply good people and are connected through the Force together.
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I hate the “no attachments” rhetoric so much and I hate that both Ahsoka and Luke in Mando and TBOBF fell straight back into it. Cuz they especially should know more than anyone that the feelings of isolation, feeling like you’re not in a safe space to healthily process your emotions—which requires actually feeling them and being in an environment where you’re allowed to feel them—and feeling like you have a support system where you can speak your feelings without judgment to get guidance and support is REQUIRED for Jedi to stay on the light side. Cuz loneliness, feeling like a burden, feeling like if you have one bad emotion it makes you all bad because of rules around feelings that are unrealistic and too rigorous makes you way more susceptible to the dark side.
Trying to beat bad emotions out of people completely is unrealistic. Expecting literal children to not feel those feelings and just know what to do with them cuz you’ve created a space where those feelings are forbidden is unrealistic. Pushing feelings and emotions down and “burying” them (re: obi wan telling luke “bury your feelings deep down” in ROTJ) and expecting those people to be perfectly healthy is unrealistic. Wanting this level of control over people, their thoughts, and their emotions, and this black and white thinking is not only toxic and dangerous, but is akin to cult culture. The PT era Jedi were extremists in this way and just too blind and couldn’t accept any criticism enough to see it because for some reason, a bunch of old guys decided evolution was not allowed and they’d just keep running the system the same way they always had with no room for change and that would somehow be this foolproof path to survival—which is a complaint a lot of people have about our current irl political system and is causing a lot of damage, btw.
Like wasn’t that the whole point of showing the Jedi’s fall? And doesn’t clone wars especially show how this thinking created all these cracks in the system that Palpatine was easily able to exploit and manipulate and Anakin was just someone who wanted change in the order and he was ostracized for it, so Palpatine latched onto him and Anakin was like “oh finally someone values me,” just to be manipulated and abused and have his whole life blown up to the point that he thought the empire was his only option (obv not excusing the atrocities, just saying I can see how he got to where he did mentally by ROTS)? Like he literally tells Luke that they can team up to overthrow the emperor and in ROTJ, when Luke tries to get him to run with him pre-throne room battle, he says “it’s too late for me,” so he KNOWS this is bad and only going to get worse, but has resigned himself to it.
Like wasn’t the whole point of the OT and the “I can’t kill my own father/there’s still good in him/I can turn him back to the good side” meant to prove that Jedi DO NEED healthy connections in order to thrive and stay on the light side? If they wanna forbid anything, they should be forbidding possession and control, but the PT Jedi Council instead used that for their own benefit and lacked any self awareness to see they’d just become what they were preaching against.
Like give me a post-OT Jedi council who teaches healthy connection and letting things go that aren’t meant for you to control and that friendships and relationships can be powerful things that bring you back to the light in your darkest moments, and a more Legends-esque New Jedi Order that values emotional health and well-being and is a safe space for not only the galaxy, but Force sensitives, no matter how they’re built instead of trying to force everyone into the same box. This is the order I wanted to see Luke cultivate in canon and I will forever be salty that this isn’t what we got.
#luke skywalker#star wars#star wars discussion#anti sw sequels#anti disney star wars#anti jedi#anti jedi council#anti prequel era jedi#new jedi order#anakin skywalker#darth vader#anti no attachment#the mandolarian#tbobf#mandolorian spoilers#the book of boba fett#tbobf spoilers#the book of boba fett spoilers
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