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thee-achilles · 1 year

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GUSTAV MAHLER: A PARTIAL NATAL CHART ANALYSIS (HOUSES 1-6)

🧿DO NOT STEAL MY WORK OR KARMA WILL FIND YOU.🧿

hey guys :) i was searching through my old projects and i found this! i did this analysis for a creative project in order to get my position as drum major. if it seems too over-explanatory, it’s because i was describing all of this to people who didn’t know anything about astrology. also, this was written like a year ago, so my knowledge on astrology and placements has definitely expanded since then. if anything seems “out-of-date,” that’s why. either way. i hope y’all enjoy!! i had a lot of fun making this post to share this analysis with you all!! :) <3 (also i do not know the titles of these paintings. i do know that the middle one is mahler, though! so if anyone can tell me the names and their artists, it would be much appreciated!!!!)

WHO WAS GUSTAV MAHLER?

Gustav Mahler was a composer during the romantic period. He is of Austro-Bohemian decent, and is best known for his 10 symphonies. A fun fact about him is that a the main tune for “Be Our Guest” from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast came from his Symphony No. 3. Like most amazing artists, he didn’t become famous until years after his death. The performance of his music was banned in most of Europe during the era of Nazi rule and later rediscovered by new listeners. Since then, he has become one of the most recreated composers and has since kept this position going into the 20th century. (source(s): https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustav_Mahler, https://www.cartoonbrew.com/disney/be-our-guest-and-mahlers-symphony-no-3-54610.html)

INTRODUCTION:

This is Gustav Mahler’s birth chart. He was born on Saturday, July 7, 1860, in Kalischt, Czech Republic at 10:15 p.m. Everything in a chart has an important meaning; from the degree, to the house, to the sign, to the planet. To give a breakdown, the top left of the screen is his birth time information, below that is his planet’s signs and degrees, the tiny chart below that is the elements and modalities in his chart, and the tiny triangle under that are his chart’s aspects. To the right of all of that, is his chart. Each chart has 12 houses. These houses start from the AC, or the ascendant. However, today, I will only be evaluating 6 out of the 12 houses.

As you can see from Mahler’s chart, his ascendant is in Pisces at 9°. His first house also contains his Neptune, which is the planetary ruler of Pisces. From the other charts of talented musicians that I have evaluated, a lot of them seem to have heavy Pisces influence. This even extends to the talented musicians within our own community. (3 of excellent musicians in the band) are all Pisces suns. My brother has multiple planets in Pisces, which forms a stellium in his chart. A stellium is when 3 or more planets are in a sign or when 3 or more planets are in a house. Sometimes, these 3+ planets can ALL reside in the same house, which focuses a ton of energy of that chart towards that house.

STELLIUMS

In reference to stelliums within Mahler’s chart, he has a stellium in Leo which resides in his 6th house. His Venus, Mercury, Saturn, and Jupiter are all in Leo and all reside in his 6H.

However, we will get to what all of that means later. As of right now, I want to break his chart down house by house, planet by planet, sign by sign.

HOUSE 1: THE HOUSE OF SELF

So, let’s start with the first house. As I said before, Mahler has a Pisces ascendant, so his first house is in Pisces. His first house contains his Neptune at 29°. The first house represents how we see ourselves and others’ first impressions of us when they meet us. The planets or sign of this house can ultimately affect our personality, and the 1H is The House of Self.

Neptune is the ruler of illusions and delusions, intuition and dreams, mysticism, the imagination, mental illness, the unknown, and is a major pinpoint of isolation (along with Saturn). This planet is also said to rule celebrities, as they give the public an illusion of what they’re like vs. what they’re actually like. His Neptune is in its house sign of Pisces, so the sign and the planet are in harmony meaning they will act in the same mannerisms. However, his Neptune is at 29°. 29° is the highest degree at which signs in planets can go to, making this a critical degree. 29° emphasizes the energy of the planet and its rulerships and can even signify fame. This degree is ruled by Leo.

Mahler was known, according to Connolly Music, to “suffer from skepticism, nervous tension, and an obsession with death.” The fact that Neptune is so prevalent in his chart is one of the main reasons why he is this way. The themes of Neptune and its critical degree, as you can see, affected his overall personality.

About the unknown and mysticism part of Neptune, Mahler hid from his wife the fact that he was Jewish and even converted to Christianity in order to have a successful conducting career. Alma, Mahler’s wife, was insanely anti-semitic, and never knew he was Jewish for a long time.

About the isolation part of Neptune, Mahler had a composition hut in Austria in which he used to finish his Second and Third Symphony and a few songs from his Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Funnily enough, this hut was positioned by Lake Attersee. Neptune, in Roman mythology, is known as the God of Freshwater and the Sea. Not only did he like to work in seclusion, he also liked to work near a body of water. He was also known as “an avid swimmer and mountain walker.” It’s just very funny for me to see things like this work hand in hand.

HOUSE 2: THE HOUSE OF VALUE

Mahler’s second house is in the sign of Taurus. While it should be in Aries, Mahler has what is called Intercepted Houses. This is when the sign of a house skips or repeats itself. However, this doesn’t mean that Aries does not exist in Mahler’s chart, however all 30 degrees of it is in the 1H. The reason why this happens is because the northern and southern latitudes of the 12 houses are not evenly spaced. This results in a sign being hidden and not easily accessible, though it is still there.

In this case, the house intercepted is in Aries. Aries governs over confidence and passion. It is ruled by Mars. As we can see by the description of Mahler’s personality, he suffered from skepticism and feared the unknown. He was unable to channel that Martian energy in his chart, thus leaving him unconfident.

Moving forward, the second house governs over personal finances, material items, self worth, and inner desires of gain. This house could also express one’s system of values. Mahler has his Pluto in the 2H in Taurus at 9°. Taurus is ruled by Venus and governs over the 2H, so it's right at home here. Pluto is the planet of destruction and transformation. When this is in the house of finances, a lot can go wrong as well as right. In terms of money, this route can take extreme rises as well as extreme falls. The people who have this placement can either be born into humble circumstances or be born into vast wealth. Mahler, of course, was born into humility, and had multiple rises and falls in his income. People with this placement also tend to have a small view on themselves and have a desire for control. This was very evident in the way that Mahler was described.

Since his 2H is in Taurus and intercepted houses are in effect, this means that four of the houses that continue after will be under their traditional sign of rulership. In Mahler’s chart, this is his second, third, eighth, and ninth.

HOUSE 3: THE HOUSE OF COMMUNICATIONS

The third house in Mahler’s chart is in Gemini. The third house rules communication, siblings, early education, perception, and transport. His Uranus resides in this house at 10°. Uranus rules everything eccentric, unpredictable, and creative/scientific brilliance. Having his Uranus in the 3H is a symbol of some kind of genius, though they often struggle in school.

Many reports say that Gustav Mahler was very “unreliable” in his academic school work. In order to fix this, his father had sent him away to the Newtown Gymnasium in Prague. Then, he ended up going to the Vienna Conservatory in order to study music. Here, Mahler’s rebellious flag flew as well, though he graduated. This is a fine example of transportation and struggling in school that Uranus so represents in the 3H.

Another example of his Uranus in the 3H working is that his siblings and their relationship with them weren’t “conventional”. His sister, Justine, had extreme possessiveness over Mahler and even went to extremes to make sure his romances were ruined. This was before he met Alma and told Justine that her behavior couldn’t continue. This encounter ruined Justine’s relationship with her brother. Many of Mahler’s siblings died during his early childhood including his older brother, who would’ve been the oldest of the 14 had he not passed. He also assumed responsibility for all of his surviving siblings after the death of his parents in 1889. This “unusual” responsibility can also be represented by the 10° that Uranus is in. 10° is under the rulership of Capricorn, which is ruled by Saturn. Saturn rules responsibility.

HOUSE 4: THE HOUSE OF HOME

Again, intercepted houses are at play here. Mahler’s fourth house is also in Gemini. There is not a planet in this house, meaning that only the sign is affecting this house. This also means that there is less tension pointed to this house in his chart. The 4H rules family, home, parents (specifically the mother), and the emotional base of our satisfaction.

Since Gemini is in this house, Mahler’s family life and home was constantly changing. This is very evident in his constant moving-about during his early childhood. Gemini in this house can also talk about a specific connection between one parent, though emotions in this sign are often rationalized. Mahler had a strong relationship with his father, who supported him in what would eventually be his career (music). He cared a lot for Mahler to make a stable income and put this first. Funnily enough, the 4H opposes the 10H, the house OF career.

HOUSE 5: THE HOUSE OF PLEASURE

When we talk about the 5H, we usually associate it with pleasure. This pleasure is usually derived from self-expression, creative hobbies, desire, children, and the showing of individuality. This is one of my favorite houses to talk about in astrology and placements here make it all the more interesting. Mahler’s 5H is in Cancer, the sign of emotional/physical well-being and comfort.

Traditionally ruled by Leo, Mahler’s sun in Cancer at 15° is right at home here. To me, the sun shines the brightest here because it’s in its home house. Since it’s the only planet here, it’s definitely giving the most energy.

A great explanation as to how rulership works out in astrology would be how Mahler passed away. The only reason why I bring this up here is because his 5H shows kind of a preview of what he was under before he died.

Mahler found out his heart was defective after his daughter, Maria Anna, died of scarlet fever. The discovery was made immediately after her passing. He was very stressed out beforehand and after her death, expressing his exhaustion was very hard. I believe this took a toll on his health, as he was unable to properly express himself and stress tends to build up in the heart.

He performed his last concert and left for Europe. He then was taken to a sanitarium to be treated. A few days later with no improvement, Mahler passed away. He was buried next to his daughter Anna Maria, as per request, on May 22 with only his name on his tombstone. He said this to be so because “any who come to look for me will know who I was and the rest don’t need to know.”

His death can also be represented in his sixth house, which I will further explain when we get there.

HOUSE 6: THE HOUSE OF HEALTH AND OCCUPATION

Out of all of the 12 houses in astrology, this one is definitely in my top 3 to discuss. The 6H can tell us so much about our potential careers as well as what our health could look like. This house rules health, occuations, and physical limitations. Though this house is traditionally ruled by Virgo, in Mahler’s chart it’s in Leo.

As I said before, Leo rules self-expression. One of the many ways of self-expression is performance. Frankly, if you haven’t noticed, Mahler’s got a lot of Leo in his 6H; he’s got a stellium, so it isn’t exactly surprising that he chose a career where his self most resonated and could be displayed in the public with an artistic flair. He also has his Venus, the planetary ruler of music and all things art, in this house as well at a powerful degree. Venus in his 6H is at 2° . 2° is ruled by Taurus and is often called the degree of power. It’s a very ambitious degree to have and it’s often what we pursue. 2° here under Venus shows that Mahler pursued music and put all of his ambition into it.

Here alongside Venus, are Jupiter, Mercury, and Saturn. Jupiter makes a conjunction to his Venus. Jupiter rules expansion, education, joviality, and abundance. When it is in a positive aspect to Venus, Jupiter enhances and expands Venus’s properties. This is an aspect I see in a lot of musicians as well, so I thought I would mention it here.

Like I said when I was discussing the 5H, there were a lot of factors in the 5H and the 6H that portrayed a preview of what Mahler was under before he passed. Since the 6H rules health, the 6H can tell a lot about the illness that caused Mahler’s death. Like the 5H, there is Leo influence. This again is pointing towards the heart problems that Mahler had with his heart as well as his job as a musician. Whenever my brother told me that Mahler had died of a heart condition, the first thing that caught my eye was his stellium in this house. I told him that it wasn’t surprising considering the huge amount of Leo influence here.

Mahler overexerted himself and then died in a sanitarium. Both of these things are represented by the 6H. When Mahler was on his deathbed, many people went to visit and expressed how much they loved him. Attention is ruled by Leo and Virgo/6H can represent places where health purification takes place. Him also having Saturn here, the planet of long-term effects and karma, indicates that his health issues had a long-term effect on not only him, but the people around him and that his daughter’s death could have been a factor leading to his death as well. All things health related can be pointed to the 6H and I think it is one of the easiest houses to read in astrology.

DEGREES:

Below, I listed some degrees that were indicators of his success and degrees that repeated.

Degrees of Fame and Success within Mahler’s Chart:

Neptune at 29°.

Venus and North Node at 2°.

North Node is our “path” in life and Mahler having this at 2° in Aquarius (ruled by Uranus, planet of eccentricity and community) proved that he was meant to do something that while was different from other people, was still extremely influential. His North Node resides in his twelfth house.

Repeating Degrees:

9°, 21°- Sagittarius Degrees

Sagittarian degrees, like all degrees, add the characteristics of a sign to the body it’s effecting. Sagittarius rules freedom, passion, and intellectuality. Mahler was incredibly passionate about what he wanted to do and he wanted to do it his way. Despite his uncertainty about the people around him and his true identity, he knew he found some sort of comfort in creating and learning about music while having the freedom to do so.

2°- Taurus degrees

2° is the degree of power and has extreme influence. This influence can be used for good or bad, and I’m thankful Mahler used it to elevate his musical career.

CONCLUSION:

I think all of these situations being displayed in Mahler’s chart can show that astrology can have the ability to predict events or tell of events that have already passed. Of course, you still don’t have to believe in everything I said here, I just think it’s neat! I only did 6 out of the 12 houses because this would have been probably 20 or more pages worth of information, and I did not want to make this longer than it already was. Either way, I hope you enjoyed! :)

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reader6898 · 6 months

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Forbidden Romance

Pairing: OC Amilyn x Commander Cody

Series Summary: When someone keeps threatening Amilyn's life Cody is appointed as her personal bodyguard. As they spend more time together feelings start to form between them. In a time of war will duty and honor get in the way of what they want most?

Series Rating: 18+(no minors), attempted assassination, bit of violence, bit of a slow burn, secret romance, eventual smut

A/n: Cody and bodyguard romance just do something to me

Chapter 1

Cody hated this. It had already been fifteen minutes and he was already exhausted from being around politicians. While he finished healing from a wound that he recently sustained from battle he was given bodyguard duty. He would've rather been stuck behind a desk but instead here he was stuck being a personal bodyguard to a senator. He knows that not all the senators are rich and snobby but from what he experienced most of them were. Cody hasn't even met you yet so until he does he's going to assume you are just like those senators. Cody was standing outside your office while he waited for you to get done with a meeting and answered a message from one of his brothers when the doors opened and out came two senators. He stood to attention as they passed by him and your aide came up to him. "Senator Shysa is ready for you, commander." Cody followed behind her as she brought him to the sitting area. "She'll be with you in a moment."

Cody nodded his head and went back to the message he was sending. As he pressed send you walked in with your aide and another guard. Cody looked up and you greeted him. "You must be commander Cody." Cody stood up just a little bit straighter. "Yes, ma'am." You gestured to the seat behind him. "Please, take a seat." "Thank you, ma'am."

Cody took his seat as you sat down on the couch opposite him with both your guard and aide standing close by. "Can I offer you anything to drink, commander?"You ask as you gesture to the water in front of the two of you. "No thank you, ma'am." You nodded your head in understanding but went and poured yourself a glass as you hadn't had anything to drink since breakfast. You quickly took a sip before getting to the task at hand. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this, commander. I know that you would rather be doing something else than be a bodyguard to a senator." "I'm just doing my duty, ma'am." "Right. Anyway, did General Kenobi or someone else give you a rundown by any chance?" "Only that someone has threatened you. The general didn't really go into much detail. He figured it would be better if you explained it to me."

“Of course. I’m sure that you are aware that I just became senator of my planet so I am fairly new to this. My planet was recently liberated from the separatists and we became part of the republic. To thank the republic I decided to open up trade routes to the clones so that it would be easier for you to access resources. I started to write up a bill to show my loyalty to the republic and that my people promise to provide whatever they needed but a few nights ago my office was broken into. Nothing was taken but the next day I found this note.” You take out the note that you had received and hand it over to Cody who took a look at it. “Like all other senators I’m no stranger to death threats as I had started to receive them not long after I became senator. Most of them were harmless so I ignored them. Along with this one of course.” Cody looked up. “Might I ask why you’re taking it seriously now?” “Yesterday I brought a draft of my bill to the senate. Most of the people support it of course and so I thought it went well. But then last night I went back to my apartment and someone had broken in. Everything had been turned over and one of my pet Tookas had been killed. I..also found another note and it has blood on it.”

Your guard handed the note to you which you then handed it to Cody. The note was definitely more threatening than the one he just read and was definitely cause for concern. “I wasn’t sure who to turn to so Senator Amidala brought it to the Jedi and they had suggested that they provide me with a bodyguard. So, that’s why you’re here.” Cody put both the notes down and looked at you. “I promise I’ll do my best to keep you safe, senator.” You smiled a little at Cody. “I have complete faith in you, commander.”

You stood up and Cody followed suit. “If you excuse me I have another meeting starting soon. I will be busy for the next few weeks so I will have my aide send you my schedule.” Cody bowed a little. “Of course, senator.” You walked back into your office and Cody took up his post at your door.

For the rest of the day Cody studied your schedule on what your week looks like and when he wasn’t doing that he was accompanying you to talk with other senators about upcoming bills or keeping watch while you worked. While it was only his first day as your personal bodyguard all of it was pretty boring. He never understood how Fox and the rest of the corries could do this every day. But he will admit that it’s a nice change of pace. He didn't have to deal with his own men or paperwork and he wasn't worried about getting shot at. Not that he wasn't used to it but he was actually grateful to his general for forcing him to do this. He would have to thank general Kenobi after the job was done.

As he thought about this your office door opened and Cody stepped to the side to let you out. "Please make sure these get to Senator Amidala and Organa right away, Tasha." "Yes, my lady."

After your aide walked away you let out a sigh as the stress of the day got to you. Luckily you didn't have anything else to work on tonight. You looked at commander Cody and approached him. He stood a little straighter as you stood in front of him. "Ma'am." "I'm all finished here commander. We'll be leaving shortly." "Yes senator."

Tasha returned shortly after and after you sent her home for the night both you and Cody took off.

Next Chapter >

Tagging: @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @cw80831 @anxiouspineapple99 @cloneloverrrrr @moonlightwarriorqueen @dystopicjumpsuit @eternal-transcience @sev-on-kamino @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @deejadabbles

#star wars #oc #commander cody #oc x commander cody

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queen-rainy-love · 2 years

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Suprise yall, part 2!! One day during an elder's meeting, Clotted announced he was planning a special event, and wanted to get their opinion on it. Elders ask what it is , C. Cream explains the promise he made to Caviar and Oyster. Most agree to it, Custard and few others disgree, reexplaining the deal with Oyster's father. Oyster speaks up about it, but it still applies. A hurt Caviar snaps and argues with Custard about it, it ends up Caviar punching him and storming out.(Custard slander!)

Here we go! (Just as a reminder)

*The scene takes place in the Créme Republic months after Dark Enchantress's attack. The Elders were gathered in the Convocation Chamber, waiting for Clotted Cream. In the meantime, the Elders greet the new member.*

Oyster: It's a pleasure to have you join our ranks, Grand Madeleine Cookie.

Tangerine (Grand) Madeleine: Thank you Lady Oyster. It's an honor to be part of this council. It is sad that I have to replace Mille-feuille Cookie under such conditions. Is there news about Canelé Cookie?

Mulled Juice: We are still deciding on what to do with her. We should come up with our decision in a few days.

Baumkuchen: Yes, but we should get started. Where is Consul Clotted Cream?

*After he said that, Clotted Cream calmly walked in. He bowed his head before speaking.*

Clotted Cream: Very sorry for the delay. I was organizing some papers for a special event.

Captain Caviar: (By the seven seas...he doesn't mean...)

Vanilla Sugar: What special event are you talking about?

Clotted Cream: Well...I wish to uphold a promise I made with two close friends of mine that I will

Oyster: (Will he...?)

Custard: And what is that promise?

Oyster and Captain Caviar: (Can we finally...)

Clotted Cream: I want to help set up Captain Caviar and Lady Oyster's wedding.

*Silence filled the air. Oyster placed a hand over her mouth and was on the verge of happy tears. Captain Caviar smiled at Clotted Cream, happy to hear that he kept his promise. Sablé was the first to break the silence.*

Sablé: A wedding? Why of course!!! I believe these two deserve it after so long!!

Tangerine (Grand) Madeleine: I agree. After what happened a few months ago, this would be a great event to cheer all of the Republic.

Mulled Juice: It won't stop the obvious flirting but at least it would be with a good reason. *nudges Captain Caviar*

Clotted Cream: Yes. I believe that they both-

Vanilla Sugar: No.

*Everyone looked over at Vanilla Sugar, unsure if they heard that right. Despite getting shocked (and maybe two angry faces), Vanilla Sugar kept her ground.*

Vanilla Sugar: We will not do a wedding between them.

Mulled Juice: What?! After what they've been through why?!

Custard: Did you forget about the promise this council to the late Poached Oyster? He requested that for a reason.

Sablé: It's been years since that demand was made. It should be time to get over it.

Baumkuchen: We must uphold his request. Even if we don't like it.

Clotted Cream: What promise?

Oyster: My father refuses us to marry each other since he wanted me to marry a different noble Cookie. But since he is no longer around and that Cookie I married is no longer around, we can overrule his demand. It's just time-

Custard: No. We will uphold his promise. We cannot break it. He swore by the Divine Light that it will bring hell to our Republic.

*At this point, Captain Caviar is at his limit. He slammed his hands on the table and stormed over at Custard.*

Captain Caviar: Why are you keeping a promise to a dead Cookie?! What did he threaten you all with!?!?

Custard: Poached Oyster knew something that we didn't. We couldn't risk-

*Custard didn't finish that sentence as he had a knuckle sandwich, made by Captain Caviar himself. As he flew out of his chair and held his jaw in pain, Captain Caviar growled, keeping his tears at bay. Before Clotted Cream or Oyster can calm him down, the Choco Mud Town Savior stormed out of the room.*

Part 3! Part 3! Part 3!...Please?

#cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #clotted cream cookie #mulled juice cookie #grand madeleine cookie #baumkuchen cookie #vanilla sugar cookie #custard cookie #oyster cookie #captain caviar cookie x oyster cookie #captain caviar cookie #oyster cookie x captain caviar cookie #sable cookie

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 2 years

Text

Revenge Of The Sith (Part 1)

Words: 8111

Warnings: language? typical Star Wars violence, the plot of ROTS (bc yes, that needs it's own warning)

Star Wars Masterlist Main Masterlist

(THIS IS X READER I PROMISE IF YOU WANT THE NONE X READER VERSION THEN GO TO @imnotobsessedwfictionalcharacters)

So I have like...a million OC's. One of which I have with Anakin Skywalker. Recently (like a few months ago) I decided to rewrite Revenge of the Sith, but instead of Padme, it's my OC and it becomes an AU near the end bc Obi Wan is able to pull Anakin back to the light. So, I decided to rewrite it (AGAIN) to make it x reader. So yeah, here it is, I hope you enjoy

(Next Part)

*Que the Main Theme*

War! The Republic is crumbling under attacks by the ruthless Sith Lord, Count Dooku. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere. In a stunning move, the fiendish droid leader, General Grievous, has swept into the Republic capital and kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine, leader of the Galactic Senate.

As the Separatist Droid Army attempts to flee the besieged capital with their valuable hostage, two Jedi Knights lead a desperate mission to rescue the captive Chancellor....

Anakin sighed as he stared at the holophoto of Y/N. He missed her deeply. It had been about 6 months since he had last talked to her. He wished to go back to Coruscant. Go back and hold her in his arms again. He loved her more than anything and wanted nothing more than to see her. He clicked a button and his smile grew slightly more as it was a photo of her and Ahsoka. It was slightly old, which he could tell by what Ahsoka was wearing. He hated that outfit of hers. He felt like it made her something she wasn’t and left her too open to attacks.

He accidentally pressed something and a new image appeared. This one was not long after he and Y/N had married. It was even certain it may have been the same week. Some of her hair was pulled back into twin buns as the rest was down straight. The side of her eyes were crinkled and her mouth opened in a smile. She was midlaugh. Her hand though. Her hand was out reaching to him. He moved his hand out, trying to grab hers.

He jumped when he heard the hiss of the door opening. Quickly, he went and turned the holograms off and turned around. His eyes meeting the eyes of his former Masters. He gave Obi Wan the typical smile he had the past 3 years. It was different from the one he used to, but neither of them acknowledged it. Neither wanted to delve into that topic as both knew one, if not both, of them would end up saying things that they never did, and never dared, to say to the other.

Obi Wan coughed, “We’re as close to Grievous’s ship as anyone wants to get. They’re having us go and deploy our starfighters.”

Anakin nodded, “Of course Master.”

Obi Wan gave him a look that Anakin knew. Obi Wan was never a huge fan of Anakin calling him master. Especially considering his past. And now that Anakin was no longer his Padawan, he felt a lesser need for him to be called that by Anakin.

But neither said a word as he left the room. Obi Wan stayed for a moment and surveyed the room. He knew why Anakin was here and why he was so quick in his movements. He just never understood why he was never told. Sure, it was against the code, but Anakin had never let it get in the way of being a Jedi. And Obi Wan respected him for that. For he knew that if he and Satine had continued their secret love affair, they wouldn’t have been able to hide it as well as the two of them could. Even if they could possibly hide it better.

Away on Coruscant, Y/N stood on her balcony. A hand was over her mouth and under her nose. Another on her stomach. She stared out into the busy streets of the city. In the distance she could see the Jedi Temple. She sighed and pushed her hair away from her face. She wasn’t sure how she was to tell Anakin. Never had they had a conversation about this before. Mostly because she was pretty sure they both thought it would never happen. But of course with their luck it had to. And it had to happen during a war and at a high point with neither side being at a lead. But she had a bad feeling that something bad was about to happen and somehow Anakin was going to get mixed into it all.

She looked down at the hand on her stomach. She felt bad. But this was the first time since before she found out that they had talked! Nearly 6 months had passed! Although it was getting harder, she had been clever enough to make sure no news outlets knew. Maker knows what they would say.

‘Former Deadly Assassin, Hitwoman, and Bounty Hunter Y/N Y/L/N Pregnant! Theories On Who The Father Is On Page 7!’

She rolled her eyes as she thought of one of the possible titles. She found it stupid. Why couldn’t people just simply ignore these things? She shook her head as she walked back into her living room. She sighed, she mostly didn’t want any news to pick up on it for the fear that what if Anakin found out through that and not through her. She would feel horrible if that happened.

But she shook her head again and decided to distract herself. Afterall, this time next week she could easily be in Anakin’s arms again. Something she had missed immensely these past months.

Anakin flew through space, trying to get inside General Grievous’s ship. Obi Wan flew next to him. Clones were all around. And in this moment he wished that he had asked at least Jesse to stay with him instead of going with Ahsoka.

He looked down at the translator as he heard R2 beep. He nodded, “Lock onto him, R2.” His droid beeped again, “Master, General Grievous’s ship is directly ahead, the one crawling with Vulture Droids.” Maker did he hate Vulture Droids. Not because they were difficult. No. It was because they were annoying.

“Oh, I see it. Oh, this is going to be easy.”

Anakin wasn’t sure if he was serious or sarcastic, but he didn’t care much as he just wanted to get this over with. He missed sleeping in a warm bed. And he especially missed holding Y/N in his arms.

He smirked as he noticed the clones coming up behind them. And for some reason, he just said the first thing that came to his mind. “This is where the fun begins.”

He practically felt the eyeroll that was sure to have come from Obi Wan before he spoke, “Let them pass between us.”

They both began to fly and avoid getting hit. Unfortunately he couldn’t say the same for the Clones. Which is why when he heard that the vulture droids were all over Oddball, he wanted to help. He began to turn his fighter, “I’m going to go help them out.”

But he stopped when he heard Obi Wan, “No. No, they are doing their job so we can do ours.”

As much as he didn’t want to listen. He knew he had to. And he was thankful that he did as he saw the missiles coming towards them. “Missiles. Pull up.”

The missiles missed them, “They overshot us!”

Anakin shook his head, “They’re turning around.” Maker did he hate these types of missiles. He began to click some of his buttons and spoke to R2. “Surge all power units, R2. Stand by reverse thrusters.” He smiled as he felt himself spinning. This was his favorite thing to do. Reckless things that could get him in a lot of trouble if they went wrong. But, when he heard the two missiles crashing into one another he gave a small chuckle, “We got ‘em R2.”

He began to fly in order to find Obi Wan. And of course when he did, Obi Wan happened to be in trouble.

“I’m hit. Anakin?”

He rolled his eyes slightly. He always was saving him. “I see them. Buzz Droids.” They were always annoying. Taking apart your ship. He saw the red top of R4 and he grimaced. That poor droid.

“They’re shutting down all the controls.”

Anakin looked quickly, “Move to the right so I can get a clear shot at them.”

Obi Wan stopped him, “The mission. Get to the command ship. Get the Chancellor. I’m running out of tricks here.” Anakin ignored Obi Wan. There was no he was going to leave him there. He hit a few droids and held back a laugh as he heard Obi Wan groan and say “Oh for the love of--!” They moved around more and Obi Wan continued with, “Hold your fire! You’re not helping here.”

Anakin agreed, “I agree. Bad idea.”

“I can’t see a thing. My cockpit’s fogging.” Anakin looked and moved his fighter closer, “There all over me. Anakin!”

He saw an opening, but it would only be plausible if Obi Wan moved to the right. “Move to the right.”

And he should’ve known what the response would be before he said his statement. “Hold on, Anakin. You’re going to get us both killed. Get out of here. There’s nothing more you can do.”

Anakin shook his head, “I’m not leaving without you master.” One of the Buzz Droids jumped onto his ship next to R2. “Get him, R2.” As R2 was busy electrifying the droid, he remembered he needed to remind his droid to not get killed in a subtle way. “Watch out.”

“R2, hit the Buzz Droid’s center eye.”

When R2 did it, Anakin gave him a small smile, “Yeah, you got him!”

“Gret, R2.” And even though he was hiding it, Anakin could hear the proudness in Obi Wan’s voice. Which made him happy.

The two of them continued forward and he saw that Grievous’s ship was ahead and decided to tell Obi Wan. “The general’s command ship is dead ahead.”

R2 let out a scream and Obi Wan’s response was basically what his droid had just said. “Well, have you noticed the shields are still up?!”

All that ran through his mind was ‘shit’. “Sorry, Master.” He flipped his fighter over Obi Wan and shot the shields down.

But of course with their luck there was an emergency door that was shutting. And in all honesty, he fully agreed with Obi Wan’s statement, but he really didn’t care as whenever this happened, they always ended up alive and with a new memory. “Oh I have a bad feeling about this.”

The two of them barely made it in. Of course Obi Wan took a page out of Anakin’s book and leapt out of his fighter while Anakin took a page out of Obi Wan’s and waited for him to slow some before unbuckling and carefully leaping out. He quickly joined Obi Wan in defending themselves against the Battle Droids. And soon found them back to back.

“R2! Locate the Chancellor.” R2 wheeled away as the two Jedi quickly finished the Droids off. Once so, they walked over to the R2 unit, who was now showing the location of the Chancellor’s signal. “The Chancellor’s signal is coming from right there-” Obi Wan pointed to where the signal was, “The observation platform at the top of that spire.”

Anakin looked around, “I sense Count Dooku.”

Obi Wan joined him, “I sense a trap.”

Anakin looked over at Obi Wan, “Next move?”

Obi Wan looked over with a smile, “Spring the trap.”

R2 began to whistle at them and the two Jedi turned to him. “R2, go back. I need you to stay with the ship.” Anakin knew his droid wouldn’t like it, but he was their best chance of getting off of the ship alive if anything bad happened.

“Here,” Obi Wan took his communicator out of his pocket, “Take this and wait for orders.” He tossed the communicator to R2 and they walked away.

They walked down the hall and both were surprised to see Shaak Ti sitting in front of Grievous. Neither of them had known she had been taken off of Kamino. “Shaak Ti.”

She slowly lifted her head as the two of them got closer, “I’m sorry, Master Kenobi. I failed.”

“Ah. General Kenobi. We’ve been waiting for you.” Anakin looked Grievous up and down. He was much...shorter than how Snips had described him. “Stinking Jedi.”

Both Jedi quickly ignited their sabers as Grievous struck one of his into Shaak Ti. Killing her. But as they heard the ‘Roger’ coming from around, they knew it was too risky to use them. At least in that way.

“That was a bad-”

“Mistake.”

They both held back a smirk after Obi Wan finished Anakin’s sentence. They both knew that at some point, years from now, they were going to make fun of how Grievous coughed every-other-sentence, but now was not the time. “A tragic ending of a gallant warrior, no doubt.”

Anakin lightly rubbed the side of his chin with his finger. He knew that it would probably get shot down, but he had to try. “Hmm. Rescue, Anakin. Not mayham.”

“I look forward to adding your lightsabers to my collection.”

Then he moved his finger around his lips and lightly flicked his nose. “No, no, no, no.”

Anakin was getting slightly annoyed and looked away from Obi Wan. “This is no time to argue, Master.”

“Might I recommend-”

Obi Wan twisted his mustache and Anakin knew it would be too risky, “Far too many of them for that.”

Obi Wan hummed as Anakin lightly scratched his eyebrow and he and Obi Wan finally agreed. “Oh, yes. All right.” They both relit their lightsabers and turned to cut a circle below them. They both fell into the water with a splash. They placed their lightsabers away as they began to walk through the, most likely, electrical water. “The slightest charge will blast us into oblivion.”

And then Anakin pointed out the obvious, “That’s why they’ve stopped shooting.”

“Thank you General Obvious.”

Anakin rolled his eyes as they continued to walk through the water. “Well, we’re safe for the time being.”

Obi Wan held back a laugh, “Your idea of safe is not the same as mine.”

“Well, when you work with the 501st, your perceptions change.”

“Huh, and I wonder who made the 501st be the way they are.”

“And I wonder who made their General the way he is? Perhaps it was his Master who while obeying the rules also breaks all the rules at the same time.”

“Now is not the time for teasing, Anakin.”

Anakin just shrugged, “You started it, Master. You started it.”

At one point some B2 droids began to follow them, and as they were followed, the water began to go higher and they both knew that they were going to need to get out. Anakin found a hatch and went to open it. He laughed. It was too easy. They both climbed out and began to climb up the wall of what appeared to be a service vent. Anakin quickly found another way out when he saw the control panel on the side. He pressed a button and the small, circular door opened. He and Obi Wan crawled through the small space as quickly as possible. The second he saw the button to open the other door at the end, he was quick to press it and get out. If he hadn't grabbed onto the wall, he would have fallen, but that was not something he would admit to Obi Wan. And speaking of Obi Wan. Once he was out as well, Anakin quickly closed the door and used his saber to seal it shut.

“The blast will break the hull. This line’s pressurized.”

Obi Wan was skeptical. “Anakin, you still have much to learn. That’ll never hold.” Anakin gave him an ‘are you sure about that?’ look. And the minute that they heard the blast, all that happened was the wall was pushed out some. But it still held. Anakin gave Obi Wan an ‘I told you so’ look and Obi Wan gave him an ‘okay then’ look and gesture. “All right. I still have much to learn. Let’s go.”

They walked down the halls of the ship that had a similar build as the Republic ships. When they neared the elevators, Anakin grabbed his communicator and pressed the button that went to Obi Wan’s communicator that was on R2. “R2, where are they holding the Chancellor?” They heard his beeps of replies but the communicator didn’t translate it to text. “No text?” He hit it against his hand but still only heard R2’s beeps, “It’s broken.” He looked at Obi Wan, deciding to play with him some, “Can you understand him?”

And he assumed that Obi Wan was in the mood to be around some too as he responded, “I’m not a protocol droid.”

He nodded, “I’m pretty sure that beep,” And he somehow imitated a beep, “Is ‘down’.”

Obi Wan tilted his head up, “I sense Count Dooku is above us.”

Anakin held back a laugh as he nodded, “Oh, yes, yes, yes. You’re right. Beep,” And somehow again imitated the beep, “Is ‘up’,” Obi Wan nodded and moved slightly so, just to tease him, Anakin added, “I think.” But once he received the ‘really’ look from Obi Wan he just nodded. “Anyway, I agree. Up it is.”

And as soon as their backs were turned, Destroyers appeared. He turned around to see them, telling Obi Wan too. “Destroyers.”

They both pulled out their lightsabers and Obi Wan walked back slightly to press the elevator button. “Never an elevator when you need one.”

Eventually the elevator doors opened and the two walked into the elevator backwards. After it began to go up and they thought they were safe, they both sighed as they heard the Battle Droid behind them. “Drop your weapons.” They gave each other a ‘not these guys again’ look and took out their lightsabers and quickly dealt with them. Anakin didn’t see Obi Wan’s smirk or else he would’ve expected the next word from his old Master’s mouth. “Roger.”

Anakin internally laughed and repeated him, “Roger.” It was funny as the two of them did this all the time before the Clone War and during the beginning of them. But as they both turned to face the elevator doors, they let out small chuckles.

Of course nothing was ever easy with them as they felt a jerk and the elevator stopped. Obi Wan looked at Anakin, who had also turned to look at Obi Wan. “Did you press the button?”

“No, did you?”

“No.”

Anakin smirked, “Well, not to worry Master. We simply take another elevator.” Anakin pressed the button for the elevator doors to reopen. But of course when they did, Battle Droids were waiting for them. Anakin groaned as he said, “Bad idea.” And pressed the button to close the doors again. Once they were, Anakin looked up at the ceiling, “Well, there’s more than one way out of here.”

He assumed Obi Wan didn’t see him or just didn’t want to get upset as he only said, “We don’t want to get out. We want to get out.” He brought the communicator up, “R2, activate elevator 31174.” After a moment when R2 didn’t answer he spoke again, “Come in, R2.” Once again there was nothing “R2, do you copy?” And at this point Obi Wan was getting impatient, “R2, activate the elevator number, 31174.” He sighed, “Activate the elevator 31174. R2 we--” He stopped mid-sentence and fell back slightly as the ceiling of the elevator fell. And as Anakin jumped up, Obi Wan rolled his eyes and sighed, “Always on the move.” He rolled his eyes again and back to the comlink. “R2, switch on the comlink. R2, can you hear me? R2?” After a moment he felt himself jolting down and it took him a few moments to gather his composure as he stood up. But immediately he realized they were going in the wrong direction. “Stop.” He brought the comlink to his lips, “Stop. R2, we need to be going up. R2, do you copy?” After a few more moments of silence, he spoke again, “R2, do you hear me? We need to be going up, not down.” And it seemed as if the droid heard him as he was jolted again and the Elevator quickly went up. He got up just as fast and spoke into the comlink again, “Now, that’s better.” Obi Wan quickly turned around and ignited his lightsaber when he heard a thump from behind him. That was, until he realized that it was just Anakin, “Oh, it’s you.”

“What was that all about?”

For a quick second he thought about making a joke, but decided against it as he could tell Anakin was already in an annoyed mood. “Well, R2 has been-”

“Uh, no loose wire jokes.”

Obi Wan faked offense, “Did I say anything?”

“He’s trying.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Once their banter ended, the doors opened and they walked out into a conference-like room. Chancellor Palpatine was up front, cuffed to the seat he was in. They walked down the steps and to him.

Obi Wan was cordial and bent down slightly, “Chancellor.”

Anakin didn’t do the same and so he stayed standing straight. “Are you alright?”

“Count Dooku.” Both turned around as in fact saw Dooku and two B2 droids walking in.

Obi Wan, still upset over Anakin ignoring him back on Geonosis and effectively getting his arm cut off, only said one thing to Anakin. “This time we will do it together.”

Anakin, who really didn’t want to lose his other arm, walked around Obi Wan and agreed. “I was about to say that.”

Anakin held back a smirk as Dooku flipped down to them and grabbed his lightsaber. That was one of the exact things that Obi Wan would typically laugh and call ‘flashy’. “Get help. You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith lord.”

Now was when Anakin smirked and Obi Wan turned to Palpatine and gave him an amused smile, “Chancellor Palpatine, Sith lords are our speciality.”

Both shrugged off their cloaks (and Anakin wouldn’t admit it but he only did it because Obi Wan did) and grabbed their lightsabers. “Your swords, please.” Dooku walked closer to them. “We don’t want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor.”

Anakin and Obi Wan, with Obi Wan leading, walked over to Dooku, “You won’t get away this time, Dooku.” Anakin held back a laugh at Obi Wan’s statement. Every time they went against Dooku, or knew they were going to, he said it.

Obi Wan ignited his lightsaber and Anakin was quick to follow. They waited till Dooku did the same to start attacking him. It was two against one. One would think it would be easy. But no. It wasn’t. Nothing ever was with Dooku.

“I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Anakin held back a smirk. “MY powers have doubled since the last time we met, Count.”

“Good.” Dooku gave a sinister smile, “Twice the pride, double the fall.”

They both back to attack him again. And when Dooku pushed Obi Wan away, Anakin got pissed. Only he was able to randomly push Obi Wan away with the Force in a fight. Anakin continued to fight him alone, until Obi Wan came up from behind and went to attack Dooku. This time Anakin got pushed back and Obi Wan was lifted into the air, feeling as if he was being choked. Just before he was flung to the other side. His back collided with a rail and he fell to the ground. Unconscious. Just as Anakin had thought before, only he could randomly do things like that to Obi Wan. But then he was very angry when he saw Dooku pull the platform down, causing it to land on Obi Wan. But he also noticed that Dooku allowed himself to be distracted, so Anakin went and kicked him off the side of the railing they were at. He was quick to jump down with him and continue the fight

At one point, Anakin was using his strength in order to keep Dooku’s saber from colliding into him. “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker.” Anakin gave Dooku an angry look. What did he know about Anakin’s feelings? And what did Anakin have to fear for? Nothing. He didn’t fear anything at this point. “You have hate. You have anger. But you don’t use them.”

Anakin was having enough, careful was he, as he allowed his tiny bit of anger fuel him. He wanted this fight over. And soon. He fiercely wanted to make sure Obi Wan was safe. And he wanted to go back home to Y/N. He pushed Dooku back and began to attack him. He was more aggressive with his blows this time. He was quick as he got Dooku practically tied up, and as a sort of payback for cutting off his right arm, Anakin chopped off both of Dooku’s hands. He wouldn’t deny, Dooku’s reaction was kind of priceless. Anakin was quick to grab Dooku's saber as it flew in the air. Dooku fell to his knees and Anakin created an ‘x’ in front of Dooku’s head.

“Good, Anakin. Good.” He heard Palpatine say, almost amused and delighted. He glanced over to the Chancellor and then back to Dooku. “Kill him.” He saw as Dooku looked over to Palpatine in horror. And Anakin hated to admit it, but he understood why Dooku had the look he did. He understood it. “Kill him now.”

Dooku looked at Anakin. And for the first time, Anakin saw fear in his eyes. But Anakin was conflicted. Break the code and kill Dooku or stay true to the code and ignore the Chancellor by just arresting him. He knew that Dooki would go willingly this time. “I shouldn’t.”

“Do it.”

And he saw Dooku's face. It was one that you would make if you recognized something. But Anakin chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore his inner feelings and was quick as he used the two sabers and cut off Dooku’s head. He knew it would come to haunt him eventually, but he chose to leave it for a problem for future him.

“You did well, Anakin.” He slowly turned to Palpatine. “He was too dangerous to be kept alive.”

He walked over to the Chancellor and used the Force to unlock the cuffs. “Yes, but he was an unarmed prisoner. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not the Jedi way.”

Plaptine stood, “It is only natural. He cut off your arm, and you wanted revenge.” Yes. He did. But revenge was not the Jedi way either. “It wasn’t the first time, Anakin.” He looked at him confused, “Remember what you told me about your mother and the Sand People?” Tusken Raiders, he mentally corrected him. But Anakin also heard their screams of agony in his head when the Chancellor mentioned them. “Now we must leave before more security droids arrive.” But instead of completely following Palpatine, Anakin quickly ran over to Obi Wan and began to get him out from under the platform. “Anakin, there's no time. We must get off this ship before it’s too late.”

Anakin flipped Obi Wan and did a quick check. He was alright, overall. He looked up at the Chancellor, “He seems to be all right.”

“Leave him, or we’ll never make it.”

Anakin ignored Palpatine. He'd rather not make it than leave Obi Wan to die alone. Especially when there was a chance he could save him. And he knew Obi Wan would do the same. “His fate will be the same as ours.” He lifted Obi Wan into his arms and carried him on his shoulders. They made it to the elevators and no matter what button they pressed, how hard, or how many times they did. Nothing happened. “R2,” He lifted the comlink to his mouth, “Activate elevator 3224.”

They jolted forward and grabbed onto the, now opened, elevator door. Anakin knew that the elevator wouldn’t be there and that they would have to run down the shaft. He just hoped that the ship wouldn’t go upright as they were doing this. Because that would be a catastrophe. As they were running, he felt himself begin to slip and tried not to make any noise as he felt the ship leveling out. As they slid down, he felt the Chancellor grab onto his leg. He was secretly happy it happened as then he was able to grab onto a wire and not worry about him.

Of course this had to be when Obi Wan awoke. And as he did, he gripped onto Anakin. Tightly. Slightly annoyed with his friend, Anakin spoke, “Easy. we’re in a bit of a situation here.”

“Did I miss something?”

Anakin resisted rolling his eyes. Always the clever one, Obi Wan was. “Just hold on.”

“What is that?”

Anakin looked up in fear as he heard the elevator coming down. He was quick to grab the comlink and talk to R2. “R2. R2, shut down the elevator.”

He knew it was too late. As did Obi Wan. “Too late. Jump!” He let go of the wire as Obi Wan let go of him. They both grabbed their graphing hooks and tossed them to hook onto a beam, the moment they did, they used the momentum and swung into the open elevator door. They all groaned as they got up from the ground. “Let’s see if we can find something in the hangar bay that’s still flyable.”

They all stood and Anakin brought the comlink back up, “R2, get down here.” When his droid didn’t answer, he sighed, “R2, do you copy?” Obi Wan gave Anakin a ‘see what I mean’ look when R2 didn’t respond. This time Anakin did roll his eyes and they began to walk down the hall. Of course the moment they did, shields were activated. Locking them there. “Ray shields.”

Obi Wan looked around, “What a minute. How did this happen? We’re smarter than this.”

Anakin agreed. Typically they wouldn’t allow themselves to do this. Not see where ray shields could come out. Or not even think about ray shields at all. But Anakin, still in a sour mood, replied, “Apparently not.” And for what seemed like the first time in his life, he suggested something that Obi Wan thought was crazy when he usually agreed with it. “I say patience.”

Obi Wan held back a laugh, “Patience?” He crossed his arms, basically telling Anakin to explain why he said that.

“Yes. R2 will be along in a few moments and then...he’ll release the ray shields.”

Obi Wan and Anakin both knew that he made it up on the spot. But before Obi Wan could argue, they heard the door open. And surprisingly, Anakin’s dramatically chaotic droid came screaming in. Anakin tried not to groan when R2 slammed into the wall. He knew that he was going to get an earful from the droid himself about this moment.

He turned to Obi Wan, “See? No problem.” And of course when he said that, a bunch of droids came out and Anakin tried not to say anything when one kicked R2.

Obi Wan looked at him, sort of amused but mostly annoyed, “Do you have a plan “B”?”

No. No he did not.

So now here they were walking into the control panel, face to face with Grievous again. “Ah, yes. The negotiator.” Anakin smirked as they walked past. “General Kenobi. We’ve been waiting for you.” A droid pushed past Obi Wan, “That wasn’t much of a rescue. And-” He stopped mid-sentence to cough and Anakin continued to hold back an amused face. Seriously. He had imagined this guy to be so much larger than he actually was. Snips said he was like 10 feet or something. He mentally laughed. Maybe it was because she was so short. “Anakin Skywalker. I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little...older.”

Okay. That did it. Anakin was annoyed by that. Everyone thought he would be older. No. He was 22...wait maybe 23 now...he really didn’t know what day it was, but anyways, he was 22 or 23 years old! Someone his age could do everything he has! You don’t have to be older for it. He gave a disgusted look for a moment as Grievous wheezed right in his face. But his amused and annoyed look came back almost immediately. “General Grievous.” He smirked, “You’re shorter than I expected.”

“Jedi scum.”

Obi Wan looked at him, knowing exactly why he said it. And exactly what he meant by it. “We have a job to do, Anakin. Try not to upset him.”

Anakin just shrugged and ignored Obi Wan’s comment. Mostly listening to R2’s beeping. Grievous held their sabers in his hands, “Your lightsabers will make a fine addition to my collection.”

“Not this time.” Anakin raised an eyebrow at Obi Wan’s comment, “And this time, you won’t escape.” And Obi Wan just jinxed it. Anakin just knew it. Grievous was going to escape. Again.

But, he also knew what Obi Wan was doing, so he signaled his droid. “R2.” His droid looked as if he was self-destructing, but Obi Wan and Anakin knew better. Obi Wan turned and called for his saber and he cut his cuffs off and did the same to Anakin’s. Once free, Anakin pulled his saber to him and ignited it as well.

He and Obi Wan attacked their droids around them. Of course since he was closest to the Chancellor, he made sure he was safe before heading back in to deal with Grievous. And of course, just as Anakin had suspected, Obi Wan jinxed them and Grievous got away by busting the window open.

They killed more droids as they and those from the Trade Federation ran out. Stopping once they heard a loud beeping. “All the escape pods have been launched.” Both knew it was Grievous’s work and that he had escaped. Again.

“Grievous.” Obi Wan and Anakin turned their attention to the large control panels. “Can you fly a cruiser like this?”

He let out an exasperated breath and he sat in the pilot's chair, “You mean, do I know how to land what’s left of this thing?”

Obi Wan sat down next to him, “Well?”

He began to press the buttons that he knew had to be adjusted, “Well, under the circumstances, I’d say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant.” Considering it was literally falling apart and crashing into Coursacant’s atmosphere.” He looked at Obi Wan, “Strap yourselves in.” He looked around and saw what all was lit up and said to be damaged. They were lucky that it only took him a few moments to understand how to fly something. “Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fins.” He watched carefully as Obi Wan did as he asked. He tried to ignore the pain in his ribs as they slammed forward. He knew that something bad had happened. He ignored R2’s beep that sounded a lot like ‘uh-oh’ and turned to Obi Wan, “We lost something.”

Obi Wan looked and saw exactly what the problem was. He turned back to Anakin, “Not to worry. We are still flying half a ship.” Both of them hoped that the back half would burn up and not cause any damage to the planet below.

Apparently the back half was helping them stay slowish, but now that it was gone? That was a whole ‘nother thing. “Now we’re really picking up speed.”

“Eight plus 60. We’re in the atmosphere.”

Anakin gave a quick nod and pointed to a lever, “Grab that. Keep us level.”

He was trying to keep this to be as much of a control crash as he could. The less damage he caused, the better. Of course his droid constantly beeping in annoyance was causing him to be a little freaked and lose his focus. “Easy, R2.”

“5000. Fire ships on the left and the right.”

“We’ll take you in.”

“Copy that.” More beeping happened that they chose to ignore and Obi Wan pointed ahead, “Landing strip, straight ahead.”

Anakin shook his head, “We’re coming in too hot.” Literally. It wasn’t a joke like usual. He did as much as he could to help control the landing and break as little as possible. And when they hit the watchtower, he just hoped that nobody was in it. Once they had stopped, Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

Obi Wan pushed his hair back and looked between Anakin and the Chancellor, “Another happy ending.” Anakin rolled his eyes at Obi Wan’s comment and got ready to leave the ship.

When Y/N got the news that the Chancellor had been saved and that the Jedi had returned thanks to Padmé, she followed the Senator to where they were going to meet the Chancellor. She stood behind a pillar, hidden from view, as she waited. She heard Anakin talking with Padmé and Bail as they walked through the hall. She bit her lip lightly as she noticed Anakin glancing over at her. She hadn’t really thought this through. How she was going to tell him. But then, she was also happy. Happy that Anakin was safe and alive and in her eyesight.

He and the two Senators’ stopped and she heard Anakin excuse himself. Padmé glanced at her with a knowing look and Y/N returned her look with a ‘shut the hell up’ look.

But as Anakin came jogging over to her, her smile returned. As soon as they were arms length of each other, he grabbed her and pulled her in. Once he knew she was secure in his arms, he lifted her up and spun her around. Once he sat her down, she immediately pulled his face to kiss him. When they pulled away she pulled him into a hug, “Oh, Anakin.”

He sighed and melted into her embrace, “I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

She pulled away slightly, “There were whispers that you’d been killed.”

He smiled softly, he moved a hand and held the back of her head. “I’m all right.” He sat his forehead on hers. “It feels like we’ve been apart for a lifetime.” And while it was probably one of the more annoying and taxing missions he’s had to do the past few months, he wouldn’t deny it. The Chancellor getting taken was a blessing in disguise, “And it might have been, if the Chancellor hadn’t been kidnapped, I don’t think they would have ever brought us back from the Outer Rim sieges.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but this time more passionately. She stopped him, “Wait. Please, not here.”

He tried his best to hide his hurt as he responded, “Yes here. I-I’m tired of all this deception. I don’t care if they know we’re married.”

“Anakin, I’m not sure you mean that.”

That wasn’t what she meant to say, but somehow, somehow he knew what she meant in some way. So he gave her a soft nod and pulled her into a soft hug. But he pulled away quicker than he had anticipated as he felt the fear in her body. He kept his hands on her arms as he ran his hands up and down them softly. “Are you alright? You’re practically trembling. What’s going on?”

She gulped slightly, “Ani, I found out some...crazy and exciting news not long after you left.”

He tilted his head to the side, “What is it?”

She let out a shaky breath, “Ani...I’m pregnant.”

He looked at her in amazement. The smile breaking out onto his face caused her nerves to wash away. He looked down as he spoke, as if he had noticed her bump that was hidden under the layers of clothes she had on to hide it. “That’s--” He stopped mid-sentence, causing her nerves to rise again. Even when she knew it was because he was searching for the right words to say. “Well, that’s won-that’s wonderful.”

“I want you to know that I wanted to tell you the moment I found out, but I was scared to make you be distracted.” She stopped and looked him in the eyes, asking a question that had plagued her thoughts since she had learned of her pregnancy, “Ani, what are we going to do?”

His smile grew and he shook his head softly, “We’re not gonna worry about anything right now. All right?” She nodded, “This is a happy moment. The happiest of my life I would even say.” She smiled and closed the gap that was continuously getting smaller between them with her lips.

But even that had to end. He eventually pulled away and said, “I need to get back to the Senator’s and deal with the Politics that Obi Wan is avoiding.”

She laughed lightly, “I’ll head back to our place. Will I see you there tonight? Or must you sleep in the Temple and I just watch the Temple from afar?”

He laughed softly, “I will be able to stay with you. You know I always am able to sneak out of the Temple.”

She nodded and kissed his nose, “Go be the hero Jedi that I know you are, Ani.”

He kissed her temple, “I love you more than anything. I hope that you know that.”

She nodded as he began to walk away. Of course she knew. How wouldn’t she? And she knew that he would do anything for her. Neither of them knew just how far he would end up going in order for her to be safe.

The sun had already almost set by the time Anakin got home. She smiled as she felt his arms wrap around her. She turned to them and smiled at him, “Hey.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Hey.”

“It was so much fun knowing you were here on Coruscant but not here with me.”

He laughed lightly, “I’m sorry my love.”

“It’s alright.” She sighed, “I heard about Ahsoka.”

He was surprised, “How?”

“Padmé found out. Now don’t ask me how she did. I stopped questioning how she found things out a long time ago.” She moved some of his hair away from his face, “When were you going to tell me?” He thought for a second. He actually hadn’t thought about when he was going to tell her. And as if she could read his mind, she let out a surprised gasp, “You hadn’t even thought of that! Let me guess, you were going to tell me after she left again?”

“No, I would never do that. I would’ve told you once I knew she was on her way back to Coruscant.”

“Why is she going after Maul? She doesn’t even have her lightsabers. Ani.”

He smirked, “So, I may have taken them, repaired them, and had them with me at all times in case I ran into her so she could have them back.”

She let out an amused laugh, “Really?”

He shrugged, “I was always being optimistic with her maybe coming back.”

She smiled sadly, “Do you really think that will happen?”

“I...I hope it will. Or at least she’ll stay on Coruscant. Or stay in touch. I don’t want to lose her again.”

Y/N kissed his lips softly, “I know. It killed me to see you after she left. It was like a part of you died.”

“She’s my sister practically. Just as Obi Wan is practically my brother. I could never lose either of them. Losing them is losing a part of me.”

She gave him another sad smile, “Well, I know you’ll never lose Obi Wan. No matter what stupid thing you do. No matter how much you betray him. He’ll always forgive you. As you will him.”

“Why’re we like this?”

“Like what?”

“Talking sadly. We should be happy.”

“We should?”

He nodded, “After 6 months we’re finally together again and we’re going to be parents.”

Her smile changed to a happy one, “We should be happy, shouldn’t we?”

The sun had gone down and if it wasn’t for the bright lights of Coruscant, it would probably be pitch black. Anakin was leaning against a wall as he stared at Y/N brushing her hair on the balcony. “Ani, what if we had our baby on Naboo? We have so many fond memories there. Padmé has said that the lake country is reclusive and no one could know. We could be safe there.” She turned to him, “She said that she’s heading back soon and that I could go with her. She has a place where we could stay and I could fix up the baby’s room.”

He gave her a soft smile, “Padmé surely knows everything, doesn’t she?”

“She’s helped us so much before. I am very grateful for her.”

He nodded, “So am I.” They were quiet for a moment until he spoke again, “You are so...beautiful.”

She smiled softly and turned to him, “Am I?”

He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Of course you are. Why else would I love you?”

She gave him a soft laugh, “So you’re only in love with me for my looks?”

He laughed lightly, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

She looked at him with fond eyes, “I know.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“As long as you change out of your Jedi attire.”

He let out a soft, genuine laugh, “Alright, alright. I will.”

“Then yes, let’s go to bed.”

There was a baby crying and Y/N was yelling out for help. “Anakin, help me!” Tears were streaming down her face as she screamed.

Anakin shot up, panting. He felt his hair sticking to his forehead and neck with sweat. He looked over at Y/N, who was still sleeping soundly. He let out a shaky breath as he sat on the side of the bed and laid his head in his hands. After a second, he lifted his head up. Grabbing his shirt he got off of the bed and walked out of the room.

And as if she felt his presence fully gone. Y/N groggily sat up and looked around. Her eyes fell on him as she saw him walk out of the room and down the hall. She got out of bed and went to follow him. She found him in the sitting area, just staring off to nothing. She walked over to him and played with the ends of his hair, “What’s bothering you?”

He looked at her and sighed, “Nothing.” He noticed the necklace around her neck and looked at it. It was the one he made her not long after their first meeting. “I remember when I gave this to you.”

They both knew that he was changing the subject. And she didn't want him to do it this time. She knew that he did need to talk about what was wrong. Her hand fell to her side and she let out a sigh this time. “Are we just going to go around in circles with me knowing something is bothering you, you saying it’s nothing, change the subject, and me knowing you’re lying and not wanting to give up until you tell me?” He said nothing, “Ani, please.” Her voice was soft, “You promised me that you would talk about how you felt more.”

He let out another sigh and looked away from her, “It was another dream.”

“Nightmare?”

He nodded, “Just like they were with my mother, right before she died.”

She grew both more curious and concerned, “And? What was it about?”

He looked at her, “And it was about you.”

He moved some of his hair, “Do you want to tell me what else?”

He looked away, “It was only a dream.” He got up and walked a few feet away from her before turning back around. Knowing he would need to tell her eventually. “You...you die in childbirth.”

“Oh.” Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, “And…”

She trailed off but he knew what she was meaning, “I have no idea about the baby. Just...just you.”

She walked towards him, “It was just a dream. This one. I promise you.”

His hands laid on her arms, “I won’t allow this one to become real Y/N. I can’t...I can’t lose you.”

She leaned up and kissed him softly, “I know you won’t.” She let out a soft sigh, “This...this baby...it will change our lives. Maybe for good and maybe for bad. I doubt anyone will let me take any more bounty’s. And if the council learns of you being the father...you’ll be expelled.”

“I know. But that is a risk I have always been willingly to take for you.”

She bit her lip, “What if...what if we told Obi Wan? You mentioned earlier, he’s your brother in all but blood. Maybe he would help us.”

He shook his head, “No. We don’t need his help.” She nodded and let him pull her into his hold.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars #star wars x reader #star wards imagine #the clone wars #revenge of the sith #x reader #imagine

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djarinsbeskar · 2 years

Text

PAMARTHE ARC 2.2: HOMECOMING (CHAKAVAL)

A/N: Better late than never! I feel I kinda rushed this part but it's been weighing on me so I want to just release it into the wild and hope for the best! Updates will probably be a little far between for the forseeable as I have to divide my time between Stitches and A Sensual Summoning. It is only temporary, but just a heads up!

Note: given the number of anons I have received and not posted recently about a) their dislike of Stitches, b) their dislike of medic as a reader insert, or c) general nastiness, I'll be taking a military approach to this. The sins of one result in the punishment of all. If you don't like Stitches, read something else.

Word Count: 10.5k

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warings: SMUT! (unprotected sex, anal play, anal sex, anal virgin, overstimulation, semi-public sex) language, angst (incl. mentions of death and grief).

Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Companion Guides

“Kyr will be back the day after tomorrow.”

Kai explained as you all made your way out of the Tipsy Hart, the child tucked into his arm from where he had settled earlier in the evening.

“Why do you guys…rest for a few days, and meet us at the Seat once he’s back.”

This was the part you had been dreading.

The…living part.

The lull in the action and abatement of distraction. When you would be forced to exist within an environment where every turn reminded you of something else you had been trying to forget for the last six years.

The losses, the suffering.

The emptiness.

Your life had been split so drastically between your pre- and post-Rebellion selves. Before, life had been full of people and everything that came with them. People and their voices and footsteps. With their laughter and tears and arguments and memories.

After the Rebellion…you were a voyeur. An outside observer to the lives of those who came through your clinics. Never a participant. Never submersed in the messiness and candid fullness of a life spent with others.

In the last year though, you had begun to regain some of that. With Din and his ad’ika. Complete with new sounds and memories, but there was always a part of you that feared the collision of both worlds. The tectonic shift of before and after…and the fallout you would have to deal with in its aftermath.

Bantha balls.

You hoped Kai hadn’t noticed the way you stalled, coming to a stop by your hired speeders.

He did, if the pinch between his brows was anything to go by.

Din – naturally – was no help. Silence was the Mandalorian’s preferred language, and he never felt the need to fill it with useless fodder. It was a trait you had learned to find extremely attractive once you figured out how to interpret it.

But at this moment, it was deeply frustrating. Especially when it left you on the front lines of communication with a mind beset by simmering anxiety.

“We—Kyr packed up the house after…you know.” Kai tested warily, rubbing the back of his neck to expel some of the nervousness tensing his muscles.

The bombardment. That was what he meant. The attack that had killed your mother and finally emptied your family home of its last occupant.

“He didn’t toss anything, always said you’d come home eventually but eh—yeah, it’s all there, yours now.”

He was overly garrulous. Nervous chatter belying his uncertainty in how to broach the sore subject of death and grief. He was a damned commander of the New Republic Defense Fleet. You would think he was good at this sort of thing.

Your stomach sank, taking in his fractured words.

The house.

Your family’s house.

Your house?

Most people would be thrilled to own a home point blank, let alone a home that sat overlooking the north sea and surrounded by pockets of forest and rolling hills where pylbucks and nerfs grazed freely.

In your peripheral, you noticed Din move minutely. A shift of his weight. Natural – it always looked natural – but deliberate. It was a question in the drop of his hand to his belt, the roll of his shoulder back. A query that his eyes branded on your skin from where he stood.

What house?

You had – perhaps foolishly – believed you might get away with not having this conversation. That you could flee to the safety of the Razor Crest in order to avoid and confusion over why – now that you were on Pamarthe – that you wouldn’t choose to stay in your childhood home.

Was it any wonder that a bounty hunter of his caliber picked up on that discrepancy with a single shift in movement? You knew better than that.

Dammit.

You didn’t want to talk about this. At all. There was a constantly looming fear in not knowing where to begin. That the problem would continue to expand indefinitely like the universe you were all suspended in. A speck would turn into a rock, would turn into a planet, would turn into a star, would turn into a damn blackhole sucking every part of you into it, and crushing you under the weight of your own grief and trauma.

You just…wanted it all to go away.

“Maybe…maybe the Crest would be better—” you heard yourself try weakly, a useless argument.

“The harbor is hours away, little fawn—” Kai refute easily, rocking the child who was dozing like a natural, “Buck’s Cove might be a bit of a trek, but it’s still closer.”

Fucking Kai.

“It is late—maybe Nana has a room free—” you tried, valiant and desperate while still trying to monitor your tone lest it reveal the stress guiding those words.

Noticing Kai’s immediate confusion though, alarm bells blared in your head – too close – and you were forced to backtrack. It was easier to deceive by agreeing.

“No, no you’re right,” you chuckled, the sound thready, “no point in paying for a room we could get for free.”

There.

That should get him off your back. Only now, you would be forced to face the very foe you had been trying to avoid. Your gaze remained steady on your friends golden eyes as suspicion turned to concern in a fraction of a second.

The warmth of his hand bled into your skin when he cupped the back of your neck in comfort.

“Welcome home, little fawn,” he rumbled quietly instead of addressing your previous conversation, “and you are home.”

Fear creeping up your throat, you tried to suppress it by pretending that it didn’t exist.

Right about now…Rhydian would be calling to say stay put—that he was on his way to pick you up.

But the holotransmitter was silent. The dead couldn’t speak. That fucking silence. How different it was to the comfortable, effervescent silence you shared with Din.

This silence was the stalking quiet of a well-placed paw, expertly avoiding twigs and crunchy leaves. The silence that had a lone doe lifting her head from grazing because something just wasn’t right. The silence that preceded the devastating blow of an attack of fangs and claws.

You were being hunted in your own mind by fond memories that turned thorny with loss.

You nodded, Kai’s fingers squeezing lightly into your skin when you flashed him what you hoped was a convincing smile.

The younger Carria brother looked like he might say something else, but a fussy squawk from the child had him turning to Din instead so he could return him to his buir’s hold.

Something incomprehensible passed between the two men during the exchange. You couldn’t tell given that Kai had his back to you—but whatever decision the stag had made in that moment as the child settled comfortably in Din’s arm, was immediate.

“Look after our fawn?” he asked and your heart leapt.

Our fawn.

It was an innocuous word to focus on.

Did he mean ‘our’ as in Clan Carria as a whole? Pamarthe? ‘Our’ as in Kai and Kyr with whom you had a long and close history with?

Or…did ‘our’ mean all of the above? With Din and the child included.

Your brain grabbed onto the word greedily, ignoring everything else and focusing on it with the magnifying glass of hyper-fixation. In some shadowed place in your mind, you knew it was just a cover; the many definitions of ‘our’ meant nothing really. It was merely something to think about that wasn’t your house and the ghosts that walked its’ empty halls.

You glanced up in time to see the tail end of Din’s subtle nod.

His silence was so much more…soothing.

It was all Kai needed too, and when he nodded back with a quick clasp to the Mandalorian’s shoulder, Din didn’t recoil or – thankfully – sever the commanders arm. You never would fully understand the intricacies of ‘man speak’.

Kai gave the warriors pauldron a brotherly smack and – that settled – turned off towards the steep, winding pathway that led to the Seat of the Stag, throwing a three fingered salute over his head as he did so.

“See you in two days, lovebirds!”

Something was off about you.

Din’s suspicions had risen the moment the commander mentioned your home. A surprise, really. He never knew you owned a house.

It was very…domestic.

He wasn’t quite sure whether that association made him uncomfortable, or if his discomfort came from the fact that he didn’t mind equating you to domesticity one bit.

You played a good game, as though nothing was really wrong.

But the Mandalorian had learned your body better than his own. Even in the growing darkness of twilight, he saw how your gaze became distant—clouded by an unconscious fog. The strain at the corners of your eyes and the pinch at your lips he had mapped so often with his own.

Something was bothering you.

Something Din suddenly felt he should know.

What an odd sensation.

Neither of you had ever gotten this close to either of your pasts before. You had never been on Aq Vetina – Maker knew that would be weird – and the covert he was part of had already been scattered by the time you came to be travelling with him and the kid. You hadn’t even seen his face.

If he felt disconcerted by the idea of you encountering his past, he could only imagine what it was like for you right now.

You had…nothing.

Nothing to hide behind. No beskar shield to ensure the appearance of impassive strength. No impenetrable armor to protect the rawest wounds.

You had…

Him.

He was donned in beskar, armored by the strongest steel.

He could protect those raw wounds and tear-stained cheeks. More than that—Din wanted to.

But…he didn’t know how. What steps to take or words to say. He had no plan, and going in blind was foolhardy at best, damaging at worst.

He followed your speeder now – unusual things – at a pace far slower than you had travelled to the cantina with. The whip of your sort, cowl cape in the wind belied your speed. Sometimes, it seemed as though you weren’t even aware of it—a jump of acceleration when you caught yourself going no faster than an Alderaan beach snail.

Over ridges and through narrow glens, the uneven landscape would disorient anyone who didn’t know where they were once more discernible landmarks disappeared behind them. He didn’t know this land. He couldn’t take the lead, as much as his instincts might tell him to.

This was your planet. You had grown up here.

The intrusive image of a small girl – the child you had been – sprang to mind against the backdrop of your past. Grassy plains and windswept hair tangled with the leaves and twigs of your adventures. Small copses of trees that seemed so ordinary looked so differently when he placed you among them. Using the wide trunks during hide-and-seek or taking advantage of the high limbs to read in peace.

Then the image shifted…to that same little girl with hints of him in her.

His throat went dry and he shook the thought from his head viscerally, veering off course momentarily.

Fucking hell.

He was not thinking about his child. Your child. That was a damn treacherous road he feared he might not be able to return from once taken.

He resolutely trained his gaze on your back and away from the vision of a little girl with her moths eyes and fathers hair. Even distracted, you guided the speeder effortlessly down pathways and shortcuts across the hills on your way to a saddle pass between two long ridges of stout mountains.

It looked as though the waves themselves had ruptured up against the coastline—freezing in rock on either side of the pass in a daunting eclipse of unscalable stone. Pockets of woodland and smatterings of settlements blinked past you both, thinning out the closer you got to the pass until you entered it and a wide, grassy glen greeted them.

The farther in you led him, the more wildlife appeared.

When Din said the mountain ridges were unscalable, he didn’t take into account the gravity defying creatures that hopped along the vertical rock. Hooved and horned, the Mandalorian was only able to detect one such beast before it skirted back up the mountain, leaving a trail of scree in its wake.

Then, there were the most bizarre birds.

He only noticed them when the kid cooed at the rustling grass either side of their speeder. His thermal vision picked up the small, long-legged fowl – flightless, apparently – with a long beak that pinched the nesting material of other animals before fleeing off back to its’ own nest.

Thieving little bastards.

So engrossed as he was in the activity that nightfall brought, he didn’t notice how quickly they were approaching the exit of the pass.

Beyond, wide open space greeted him in a panoramic whoosh—stretching farther than his vision would allow.

How fucking big was his island?

He underestimated the size of the scope of territory your alor had.

Sea and sky alike clashed against the horizon, and it was that exact horizon you seemed to be leading him towards. There were very few settlements this side of the pass, none that Din could see as he scanned the area for threat anyway. Waves crashing in the distance grew in volume, a resonance of some great breast roaring.

Perhaps, a mythosaur once sounded like this. Like the waves of a Pamarthen ocean.

On and on you led him and his mind meandered back to the fact that you were leading him to your house. Maybe it was the realization that you had roots somewhere that wasn’t with him and the child that he couldn’t seem to shake.

Real, tangible roots.

Not an old gunship and a thin sleep mat.

You never mentioned it. But then—you hardly ever said anything about Pamarthe unless it arose out of necessity and even then, it was sparce.

Could he really blame you though?

Tragedy changed people. Like metal that was time and again re-melted, re-cast, re-forged. A violent process necessary for the person you grew to be. He wasn’t the same child taken in as a foundling by the Mandalorians, and you weren’t the starry eyed rebel you were when you left your home to join a war.

Coming to ride along the coast once more, he spotted your destination sitting pretty against the backdrop of that roaring ocean and stormy skies.

A house.

Why was he expecting something else?

It was…just a house.

Perhaps it was because he always associated you with clinics or the Razor Crest that he expected something else. But just a house, though?

Din wasn’t sure he knew anyone who owned a house. The people on Sorgan owned houses, he recalled—but your home looked nothing like the reedy dwellings made for such a humid climate.

Incompatible with the Pamarthen islands, the wind alone would have probably destroyed Sorgan houses in no time.

No, yours sat strong. A white, stone structure with small durasteel shuttered windows overlooking a dirt pathway that led to the edge of the cliffs it stood a distance from. It was big, and a sadness loomed over it that he couldn’t quite place.

A house that shouldn’t sit empty, but did.

You had slowed down considerably, hit with the same image as he had been. Crawling to a stop—the Mandalorian came to hover beside you, his eyes scanning your profile. He saw you swallow, eyes glued to the house.

“Kitten?”

You didn’t respond. Your chest lifted beneath the half-cut drape of the front of your cape with a deep inhale. The sea air was good, so he heard. Wait—you were the one who told him that. Must be some truth in it then.

He was still watching you when those pretty eyes flickered to his through the visor.

“Sorry, needed to catch my breath.”

Liar.

He nodded instead.

Choose your battles, idiot.

Whatever else he might have said was lost in the dust as you took off again, and he was forced to scramble to catch up—still getting used to these damn speeders that started up on a jump of speed.

He couldn’t shake the feeling though, that he was chasing you towards the very thing you had been running from all these years.

It was just a house.

You had been chanting the same thing since it came into view. As it came closer until you stood in its shadow, dismounting the speeder you had unconsciously parked near the empty landing space that was never usually absent of a ship.

At least there would be space for Din to land the Razor Crest tomorrow.

You walked up the overgrown path that was once worn down from foot traffic—but now hardly visible under the grass and weeds now covering it. Mired down by the thought of overgrown shrubbery, you didn’t notice the durasteel front door getting closer until you were standing right in front of it, the window shutters dark and lifeless.

You couldn’t put this off.

The door slid open with a slight buffer, stiff from lack of use.

It had been over six years since anyone used it regularly, you supposed.

Must and a faint smell of mildew defined the sentimental aroma of home. That scent you could never quite pick up anywhere else; the nostalgia and memory attached to it too ingrained in brick and mortar to travel with you off-world.

But like the pathway hidden by overgrown weeds, it was still there. The faintness of perfume after hours of wear, picked up for a split second before it disappeared again. It was still there though, and that was all that mattered.

One nightmare had been confronted and bested, at least.

The front door opened into the main living area where most of your family’s activity took place. A wide space for a kitchen, seating area and even a separate table for formal mealtimes that was hardly ever used for anything but homework. Later, it was the constant home of gloves, jackets and helmets your brother never failed to throw onto when they got home that drove your mother stir crazy.

Had…had it always been this big?

Your eyes drank in what the shadows and doorway of moonlight allowed. Generator was probably shot again. Sheets of preservative shields covered all the furniture but, at a glance, it appeared that everything was in its’ place as it had been the last time you were here.

Except its’ occupants.

The last surviving one was currently standing covertly outside the door, like a robber—contemplating entry and considering fleeing. Searching for anything of value that might be worth taking a step inside. Anything…or anyone.

Had it always been this quiet so far north of the Seat?

You never noticed it before.

Maker, usually this house was a clamor of noise. Half the time it was you yelling down the stairs for Rhyd and Rhain to shut up when you were trying to study for an upcoming exam and that command going unacknowledged as they rough-housed and used their outdoor voices inside.

Only when your mother threatened them with her ancient, wooden ladle did they finally cop on and listen.

They wouldn’t dare make a peep after that final warning. Or, they took whatever horseplay they were up to outside.

Why did you always tell them to be quiet?

A sting of tears burned the backs of your eyes, the ghost of your little brother racing through the room with yells that he completed the Hurdles and was now a real pilot. Your mothers shriek at his success as her ghost came out of the kitchen to wrap her youngest child in her arms—who, despite his claims of being too old for hugs, snuggled close.

Why?

When you hated this silence so much.

You yearned for the chaos of your brothers and the singing of your mother, while also craving the silence of the Razor Crest and the intimate pants of Din’s moans in your ear.

You just…wanted it all.

How greedy you were.

How naïve to think that was possible.

You still hadn’t walked inside.

How long had it been now?

Din was probably noticing your weird behavior if he hadn’t already. Which he probably did hours ago. You really needed to give the man more credit when it came to reading people.

What kind of excuse could you offer him though?

Sorry, I’m just having an existential crisis over the death of my entire family that I never told you about because we’re only fuck buddies but I’m actually in love with you so really, I want to tell you these things but I don’t want to terrify you emotionally in case you take to the hills and leave me in this silent house that’s the reason for you leaving in the first place because you asked me why I haven’t walked inside yet.

Wow.

That was a mouthful even in your mind.

And you still hadn’t taken a single damned step through the door.

What if your footsteps echoed? You hadn’t thought about that before. What if the house spoke back to you and reaffirmed that no, they didn’t just forget to take their shoes off when they came home and were somewhere else in the house out of sight.

What if the house echoed and confirmed that it was empty and had been empty for years?

What if it echoed…and you were forced to accept that they were all gone?

You couldn’t do this.

The only step you took was one backwards without realizing. The Razor Crest was fine, you had spent a whole year on that ship quite comfortably. Why bother changing things now? The Razor Crest was where silence was welcome. In this house—it was perverse.

“Don’t—” you heard Din begin.

You were dragged back to the present by a little green alien.

Wadding nonplussed through the small gap you had created by stepping back and into the home you grew up in. His little feet were too small to cause much noise, let alone an echo. He entered where you could not with ease, heading looking left and right at everything he could; exploring.

Din had obviously put the child down and was now cursing under his breath as he reached down to grab the little menace, inadvertently stepping over the threshold too.

And just like that…air filled your lungs and life re-entered your silent home.

“Dammit, kid—where are your manners?” the warrior sighed defeatedly as he scooped up the child who made it quite clear that no, he did not want to be in his buir’s arms. He wanted to explore every inch of the place, and had nearly made it under the first of many preservation shields before Din intercepted.

It all happened in a few seconds, but in that time the impossible became achievable, and you stepped into your old home that was once again filled with noise.

You exhaled, the tole of this battle exiting your body at the victory, leaving you exhausted.

“Let him explore,” you heard yourself saying, taking another step and another, until you were able to pick the wriggling alien from the Mandalorian’s arms and place him back on the floor once more, “it’s been too long since there’s been a child in this house.”

Shadows covered most of his helmet, the glint of moonlight along the curve from the open door shifting to the side to watch you. Then, a warm, strong hand wound down intimately over your lower back, bringing the warrior closer to you.

“You okay?”

Your heart fluttered. He had been checking on you ever since you came out of hyperspace earlier today. Usually, you would find it annoying, but this was his way of vocalizing his…understanding that this was fucking difficult, and touching base with you.

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck loosely to pull his forehead down to yours, tempted by the heat, “I am now…”

You could hear him inhale sharply, his free hand cupping under your jaw to keep your eyes on his visor. Thumb rubbing beneath your bottom lip, you caught the pillowy cushion of flesh between your teeth at the affection. The intimacy. The fact that you still hadn’t forgotten the way he stopped a handsy drunk from touching you and how your mother would probably have loved the stoic warrior and his son.

Your hands skirted up under the back of his helmet, wisps of wavy hair curling around your fingers and the flush heat of his skin under your hands making you shiver with the contrast from the chill of the house. It hadn’t been heated in years. While sitting on a northern coast, what else were you expecting?

“I have a job for you,” you smiled at his grunt of awareness, his eyes evidently more happily distracted by your body as his hand dropped beneath the end of your short cape to the swell of your ass, “since I’m shit at engineering, I need—”

“Wait,” he rasped, lifting his head from yours.

You blinked – blindsided – and held your tongue. He pushed his gloved hand into the back pocket of your tight pants casually, while his other hand adjusted something at the side of his helmet.

“Say that again.”

Now you were just confused.

“What?”

“Say. That. Again—” he repeated, slowly.

“I’m shit at engineering?” you questioned, the words drawn out from your lack of understanding and having no facial expressions to read if you were saying the right thing.

Din chuckled quietly, a husky noise that went straight to your cunt as the deep timbre embraced you with warmth. Well, guess you didn’t need the heating after all.

“Just needed to record that so I have proof that you aren’t in fact all knowing,” he admitted, victory lifting his tone. Somewhere behind you both, something clattered – sounded like crockery – from the kid’s unsupervised nosing.

You didn’t even spare a glance at the mess, your cheeks heating. This infuriating man, you—

His laughter cut your offense in half, paper thin and you couldn’t even remember why you had been so affronted in the first place, when he was filling a place you had feared entering with one of your favorite sounds.

When he was quite done, his low chuckles petering off into rumbling affection when he dropped his other hand to fill it with your ass too. He kneaded them casually and with such easy arrogance that it was difficult not to flush further and push back into his hands.

“You’re shit at engineering, go on,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” you snorted, leaning back with a chuckle of your own, “go see if the generator is working and if not, fix it.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” he growled, heating your blood as the sound travelled through your veins to inject your heart with the erratic thump of an atrial fibrillation you should be trying to calm but found yourself smirking instead, playing along.

“You should know that already,” you purred, “keep up, sunshine.”

“Keep an eye on the kid while I do?” he rumbled after a beat, his wandering hands indulging.

“Don’t I always?” you retorted.

“Mm…good girl.”

You really did flush as dark as you possibly could at that. The man was just not playing fair at all today.

You wondered briefly as he released you to brush past you to go outside, what had brought on such a touchy, public display of affection. For months it had be relegated to the darkness of hyperspace and you weren’t quite sure when it changed.

If you were to be logical, objective—and look at the situation as if it were happening to other people, your first instinct would be to say it was do to the familiarity she – not you, someone else – was experiencing on her home planet. And he – not Din, some other masked warrior – was feeling territorial.

Hm.

That made sense.

These people weren’t strangers to you; they greeted you through touch and in a language Din didn’t know. Beyond that, they didn’t know how to read Din the way you did. They couldn’t see his face or observe his dissatisfaction. Apart from fucking you right there in front of them, his hands-on affection was the only way to lay claim and, in a way, show how unavailable you actually were.

Ten years ago, if someone told you a man was doing that to you—you would have huffed and puffed and raved on about your burning independence and how dare anyone think they could contain that blaze by trying to possess you.

Din wasn’t trying to own you though.

Nothing Din did was ever indicative of objectifying anything, to be honest. His ship was his home, his weapons and armor were his religion, his ad’ika was his family and you—were his equal.

Equally desired as respected.

Such a curious sensation. Enjoying when a man became territorial over you. Enjoying it because, well—you did it right back to him. Like hell you would let any of these other does near him.

The flare of jealousy that thought inspired surprised you.

The shuffling patter of little feet from the kitchen to somewhere in the living room had you chuckling. Disarming the first shield of what you correctly assumed to be the dining table filled you with a melancholic happiness at seeing the familiar, carved durasteel.

A dull almond color, it was framed with steel carvings your father had painstakingly completed to personalize the piece that would decorate the home he made with your mother. Leaping stags and graceful does were paired with the feline beauty of the lions from your mothers clan. The table was an extension of the embroidered cloak he gifted her when they were first engaged.

The kid was currently mesmerized by the mighty antlers of the stag that was carved in such a way that it appeared to be supporting the entire table form where it stood at the base.

You smiled, sitting down cross-legged on the floor with him.

“This was always my favorite too.”

His ears twitched as he looked at you with large, starry eyes. A nudge of instinct in your mind told you to continue, your fingers following his little claws along the antlers.

“You see how many points his antlers have? He’s a monarch stag because he has so many,” you explained, the sheer size of the Pamarthen stags famous across the galaxy, “more than sixteen! Maybe we’ll get to see one while we’re here.”

He chirped, his hand wrapping around your thumb that was stroking over the stags wide snout. You couldn’t be sure if the little bogwing even knew what numbers were, let alone how to count. Going by the amount of food he could consume, you doubted he knew the meaning of too much that was for sure.

As if you could blame him. If you could eat whatever you wanted and not put on an ounce of weight—you would be a food monster too. You got to your feet, leaving the child to explore some more while you made your way to the mess of crockery he left on the kitchen floor.

Speaking of, you hoped Din brought some rations with him. There wasn’t anything in any of the—

Food greeted your gaze when you pulled open the first cupboard. Not much; bread, nerfmilk, cheese, some salted meats and—Maker you hadn’t had one of these in ages! The tell-tale bright yellow box containing twelve perfectly baked, berry stuffed buns.

Not just any berries either. Fiore berries. The bright blue fruits named after the wildflower that grew in abundance over the islands were some of the sweetest, most velvety rich deliciousness you had ever tasted. You were addicted to this flavor; in jams, candy, and most especially—these pastries.

Your smile softened at their presence.

Kyr.

You might have said Kai, but over the years of your friendship and the slightest period of ‘more-than-friends’, Kyr never failed to encourage your appetite for fiore berries and gifted you with them whenever you wanted them.

How did the rhaer have time to leave your groceries?

You chuckled, shaking your head at his likely excuse; not wanting to deal with politics and escape the Seat for a few hours.

At least you would have something to feed the little menace with tonight. Him and his father.

Just as you were thinking it, the power came on with a groaning flicker of lights and hum of the sub-generators around the house.

Huh. That was quick.

Light brought with it greater clarity. Filling the space with a warmth that had been missing in the darkness. Your eyes drank in everything, all those pieces of furniture still covered and the daunting stairway up into further darkness that awaited you later.

“Wasn’t in bad shape,” Din mentioned, wiping his hands clean as he walked back through the front door, closing it finally, “needs a new intercooler for the engine, though.”

It’s needed a new cooling system for years.

“I’ll replace it for you.”

Your eyes flickered up to his visor, when he came to stand on the other side of the counter you had wiped down in order to slice some of the bread. He waved your thanks away with a grunt and turned to watch the kid re-emerge from behind one of the furniture shields once he heard the rustle of food being prepared.

He waddled as fast as short legs could carry him and all but boosted himself onto the counter with…

Your eyes flickered up to Din’s, surprised.

Magic?

“Hey—kid,” Din crossed his arms when the child reached out a greedy little hand for the piece you had just sliced, “is this how you’ve been getting into places you’re not supposed to be in?”

“Looks like it’s not only mudhorns and Trandoshans that he can move.”

Din snorted, looking sideways towards the stairs. You saw the cogs working loudly in his head.

“Go check, you don ‘t need my permission,” you turned your attention back to the bread, setting it aside so you could slice the block of cheese too.

Din wanted to make sure the house was safe, but didn’t want to intrude. It was sweet—but there was a selfish part of you that wanted someone other than you to go upstairs for the first time. If Din was offering to be your scapegoat in that then—you weren’t above taking advantage.

“Take him with you—let him pick a room,” you tagged to the end, figuring that if the kid chose then you wouldn’t have to.

You were rather tired of making decisions today. You just wanted someone else to do it.

Din didn’t question it, scooping the little bogwing up along with a slice of bread for him to nibble on so he wouldn’t be fussy.

It left you alone; an eventuality you hadn’t factored in when you sent the two of them on their inspection. Popping a shard of cheese into your mouth, you focused on the heavy sound of Din’s footsteps above you instead of the dark corners of the house and thanking every single deity you knew of, that you hadn’t had to come here alone.

It was a nice place you had.

Din thought as much as he ventured through the upper hallway, checking there were no threats squatting somewhere they didn’t belong. Every room was different, but contained the same preservation shields that made them all look similar. Except for two.

One had the shields down. Pilot helmets of various eras lined one wall and the bed was turned down with military neatness. The kid liked it. Din had given up trying to make sense of the intuitive fondness his ad’ika had for the most random places and people, but when he struggled out of his hold once more to wander around the bedroom, Din knew this was once such place.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and watching the kid explore.

He deserved something like this. A bedroom, a space of his own where he could play and just be a child.

Finding the bedroom to be safe, he left the child to explore his new found favorite room so that he could check the rest of the rooms.

The other room that was different, was the one that was significantly larger than the others. It faced the ocean—large windows with their shutters down blocked what must have been a breath-taking view to wake up to each morning.

He disarmed the shield covering the large bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Maker, it was soft. Very soft. Too soft? Possibly.

The shutters made the room pitch black, and while he could appreciate the view would be nice—he was more relieved that there was the possibility of removing his helmet even briefly. Though, he was still a little unsure of that—it went against every instinct to take it off when on-world, especially a populated one.

Was this your parents room?

Maker’s Helmet, they wouldn’t be happy knowing the man who fucked their daughter every night was sitting on their bed.

The frame creaked under his weight as he pushed himself back to his feet quickly with a mental apology for the disrespect.

The floor was easier to deal with.

Bucks Cove was a secret gem of Clan Carria.

Small, intimate—it stretched in a crescent of sand and rock beneath the hidden staircase overgrown with brush and brambles that led to your family home. The cove overlooked the wide, uninterrupted expanse of ocean stretching outward to infinity and itt was so easy to become lost in the idea of being the only person on the planet.

Towering cliffsides framed it with the emblematic white rock face that met with greenery at its edges. Smatterings of boulders – marbles thrown by giants – jutted up from beneath the shallow waters in varying states of erosion. They interrupted the waves as they broke against them, providing cover, shade and texture to the otherwise flat cove.

Sprawling several dozen meters from the base of the cliffs to the ocean at its’ thickest point—the cove could appear invisible as the high, dangerous cliffs framing it dissuaded most from getting close to the edge they would need to approach in order to spot it.

Only if you knew what you were looking for, or knew where those stairs were—would you know that Bucks Cove existed.

That was where you sat hours after you arrived at your house, arms around your knees and bare feet buried beneath the cool, grainy sand after realizing you had no appetite.

The little bogwing had taken a liking to Rhydian’s old room, spending his time exploring the surfaces and under the bed before the softness of the pillow proved too tempting and he was out like a light. It made sense, Rhydians’ was the only room that wasn’t covered in dust and preservation shields—the kid had much more freedom to play.

Someone else had been in his room in the time since Kyr packed the house up, and you didn’t need to be psychic to know it was Kai.

Din had been kind – awkwardly so – when he returned back downstairs after scoping out the house for danger. He had seen the empty bedrooms and the tell-tale signature of those who once lived in them. He had taken the plate of food you rustled up, a silent jerk of his head for you to sit together like you normally would—back to back.

A deflective “you choose” was met by silence. The warrior relented on the topic, which you were grateful for—going back to eating the cheese and cured meats you had laid out.

It was only later, when you convinced him that no one came this far north of the Seat and he could take a shower without worry—that you managed to go for a stroll by yourself.

Finding yourself looking out at the oceans of Pamarthe once more, you sat. Truth be told, you never thought you would see this image again. But there it was; Llyrian and Amhra’s eternal dance of wind and waves. The rush of water smashing against the rock and drowning out the loud noise in your head.

That was where the Mandalorian found you after he noticed you were gone once he was out of the shower, and worry began to gnaw at him.

You hadn’t noticed the time passing.

You didn’t make any indication that you saw him, but he didn’t try to mask the crunch of his footsteps through the sand, or the rustle of his cape against his back.

His shadow fell across you from behind, and when he crouched down beside you on the sand—the fresh smell of soap tickled your nostrils from his damp hair beneath the helmet. It caused you to look over at him finally, to that familiar T-visor you so loved.

“Hey,” you muttered quietly.

“Hi,” he rasped after a moment, reaching over the short distance to cup the side of your neck in silent question, his thumb gliding along the line of your jaw.

You were helpless to lean into the hold, that strength that supported you so effortlessly putting your mind at ease. Sending him a small smile, you turned your gaze back out onto the water, the night sky staining it black with the unattainable stars above suddenly within reach as they were captured in the reflection of the waves.

He shifted beside you, a grunt of stiffness absently alerting your subconscious that you should really check on his ribs and shoulder, before he sat fully on the sand and leaned back on his hands. A vulnerable pose, you came to realize. He wasn’t poised for any attacks, he wasn’t on guard. He was simply…relaxed.

“So…this is it,” you opened your arms out to the sea, sucking in a breath at the pitiful welcome you had given him to your home planet. All you had done was fret and complain and mope since you got here. Weren’t you supposed to be showing him the sights or something like that?

“What do you think?”

Wait. Did you say that?

It slipped out unintentionally, your eyes rounding in realization as they snapped to his visor sheepishly.

“I mean—”

“If you had told me when I was a kid,” he interrupted with a low gravel, “that planets made almost entirely of water existed—I wouldn’t have believed you.”

You cocked your head, curious—toes wiggling beneath the sand and letting the rough caress of it tickle your feet.

��Your home planet?” you ventured to ask.

“Aq Vetina.”

You never heard of it, but more than that—you never expected him to tell you its name.

“It has no oceans?” How odd.

He shook his head, still staring out at the endless waters.

“None that I can remember anyway,” he admitted.

He had made to continue his sentence—an intake of breath and rumble of syllables that lay trapped behind his teeth as he caught them. Considered them while you considered him.

You couldn’t help but feel that this was important. As much as his name, as much as his armor. This was something about his life before his Creed, much like this cove was your life before the Rebellion. And he offered it to you freely…

“I like it,” he finally said, surprising you with his candor.

I like it.

So simple a statement, banal some might say but you found yourself storing it away in the box that had always been filled to the brim with suppressed fear and anxiety. It deserved to have something nice in there for once.

Expression softening, you considered something different. Without him—you didn’t think you would ever have found yourself on these shores again.

“I used to think you needed an ocean to have sand,” you smiled, “you can imagine my surprise when I saw Tatooine for the first time.”

Din chuckled then, dropping his head with a shake at the absurdity of your words and your heart grew about three sizes too big for your chest.

“You weren’t wrong, as usual,” he snorted, sitting up to slide one of his arms around your waist. With a tug, he had you rolling your eyes with a vacant smile, as you turned to straddle his lap, “Tatooine used to be covered in water once.”

“So…what you’re saying is—I am always right?”

You were teasing him, your arms hooked around his neck and a playful grin a permanent fixture on your lips while he dropped his hands back to your ass—your legs spread invitingly to frame his large, armored thighs.

The man was obsessed with your ass lately, not that you were complaining. It was a decadent stroke to your ego that after so long, he was still ravenous for you. As you were for him.

It was evident in the thickness of his voice—the decided huskiness of misdirected thoughts as he pulled you closer to him.

“Unless it’s about engineering.”

You whacked his shoulder lightly to his amusement, regretting ever letting him record that. Though—now that he was wearing his helmet…an insidious little fiend inside you wondered if that was the only thing he was able to record.

“I was right about you, wasn’t I?” you hummed, running your hands down his chest plate.

That caught his attention, his head cocking sharply while he nudged your forehead with his own.

“Right about me how?” he purred, intrigued and failing to hide how much he wanted to know the answer as it streaked across his tone.

“When you dislocated your shoulder,” you reminded him, “I—”

You cut yourself off, embarrassed. That was years ago—how could you expect him to remember? How did you remember? A medic’s memory retention—that was it.

“You said I didn’t seem like a bad guy… he finished for you, a bounty hunter memory apparently equally as good.

Flushing dark, you dropped your eyes to nod slowly.

Maker, this man would be the death of you.

He gripped the back of your neck, not unlike how other members of Clan Carria would—but firmer, more possessive as he made you look up at him.

“And now?” he growled quietly, the hot air of his breath escaping under the lip of his helmet and skirting across your chest.

“Now…” your eyes flickered left and right across his visor, your hands finding his utility belt to undo nimbly.

Now I love you.

It was on the tip of your tongue, nectar sweet and ready—but your courage fled. You covered it with your hand undoing his fly so you could push your hand in to stroke his hardening cock and listen to his breath hitch instead.

Your lips parted on a lazy smirk, flattening your palm down to fondle his balls. Dropping your mouth to his neck seal and the delicious sliver of skin just beneath his helmet—you flicked your tongue over the tawny, freshly washed skin. He groaned—and a narcotic of power hazed your mind.

His finger in your hair, you didn’t resist when he dragged your face up to rest your forehead against his—watching yourself in the reflection of his obsidian visor and seeing the feelings you had for him reflected like the stars in the sea.

“Now you’re mine,” you whispered hotly, eyes darkening under the moons glow and basking in the feral snarl of approval it elicited from your lover.

“Say it…” you continued, his cock a heavy weight in your hand now, his low groan music in your ear while you ground your hips shallowly in time to your hand, “say it, Din--£

“Yours,” he panted out, voice strained and fingers bruising into the supple flesh of your thighs. His forehead dropped to rest on your shoulder, “yours, kitten.”

Pride filled you, an intoxicating wine you luxuriated in. Yours.

Stars, you wanted to take his helmet off—wanted to kiss him, caress his scruffy jaw and smooth out the frown between his brows with your lips. But the moon was bright as it bounced off the waves, there was too much visibility and you both knew it.

But he was here, and it was enough.

He grunted your name, his body a furnace beneath you as hot hands trailed up to the band of your pants. You gasped when he dealt a hard slap to your ass when you dared remove your hand from inside his pants, gentling him with a purr as you licked your palm so you wouldn’t be stroking him raw.

He was so solid. The veiny underside pulsing against your hand and the swell of his girth preventing your fingers from touching. It still baffled you how in Malachor he fit inside you half the time.

“Did you bring spare pants?” he rasped thickly, caramel sticking to your lips and making you swipe your tongue across your bottom one.

The filthiest groan left him when you focused on massaging the head of his cock, stroking up over it diligently and giving it the slightly squeeze to push beads of precum from his slit down to coat your hand.

You nodded – yes – and before you knew it, he had gripped the band of your pants and ripped the once durable material down the seam, your ass pushing out of the rip that widened with each violent yank until your bare pussy was kissed by cool air.

Fuck, you loved when he was brutal—when he used that strength on you. It was too fucking addictive.

You told him as much in whispered secrets, mewling his name as a lick of shivers rippled over your skin from the contrast between his body and the air. It didn’t stop you from grabbing the hem of your top though, and pulling it over your head—your breasts instantly engulfed by his hands.

“Fuck, kitten—I love these tits.”

You arched your back, his thumb running over pebbled nipples and the weight of your breasts in each hand encouraging your hips to work over his plated thighs as small spasms of arousal shot from where his hands touched you.

You submerged yourself in him. Eyes closed and focusing all your senses on him—sounds, smells, sensations…he was a drug you could never quit when every hit was as good as the first. Better even.

“Tide’s coming in—we don’t have long,” you whispered, pulling his cock from inside his flight suit to smack sloppily against your swollen clit. Neglected so far, each slap sent a frisson of electricity through you and caused wetness to pool, twitching thrusts and whimpers for more while he growled possessively.

“The tide can fucking wait.”

Then he was inside you.

Gripping his base, he pressed into you from below—filling you with his heft and giving you no time to adjust as inch by inch he sank into you. A moan choked in your throat, your legs quaking above him and every involuntary movement had you gasping with unrestrained pleasure.

Maker, he felt so good. And today had been so fucking hard, you needed this.

You rode him like that. On the shores of the sea, his wet cock sliding in and out of your cunt with every frantic lift onto your knees before you sank back down on him greedily.

The burning in your thighs didn’t matter. The stress of being home didn’t matter. All that mattered was him and you, on this beach in this moment.

Sea foam tickled your toes from where the tide was moving inland, a film of water creeping ever closer completely ignored by both of you when he gripped you under the thighs to flip you over onto your back. It splashed against the wet sand, hair soaked and body shining as he resettled between your legs.

Notching his cock back at your entrance, your head fell back into the sand when he filled you once more.

“Maker, this cunt…” Din growled, pushing your thigh up and opening you wider for him to drill into you.

Your moans bounced off the cliff side and tangled with the roar of the ocean as your Mandalorian fucked you harder into the sand. Like he was trying to bury you, bury every bad fucking thing that had ever happened to either of you.

Furious, desperately—he pounded out every second of melancholy from you after a difficult day, filled you instead with blissful nothingness as your mind emptied with a primal instinct to mate. All you needed was him. Him—inside you, fucking you forever. Nothing could be better, nothing felt more right.

Salt on your tongue, the ocean kissed you where he couldn’t. Lapping against your skin and into your hair, the warrior joined it with a rough tangle of his fingers at the base of your scalp.

Splitting your walls around his cock with every full thrust, he dragged along your nerves and short-circuited the synapses of your brain that fizzled with desire. They exploded in a collection of miniscule orgasms along your skin, to his growling praise of “take it, take all of this cock—” until it culminated in a cry of unadulterated bliss when he dropped a hand to your clit to rub at the little nub frantically and sent you toppling over the edge.

“C’mon—keep going, kitten,” he compelled you, refusing to stop.

His hips were tireless and his thumb on your clit even more so as the sting of overstimulation melted into pleasure once more. He had you shattering around him again in no time—clawing at his neck seal for purchase as sand dried and caked over your bare body and settled into the fabric of his flight suit.

He filled your vision and you preened under the size of him hovering above you. Consuming you. Claiming you.

“You’ve got another one for me, don’t you?” he purred huskily, slipping out of you with a squelch of wetness and a flush of raw nerves at the sudden emptiness.

Strings of release hung between you, only to be broken when he turned you onto your stomach.

You whimpered, shaking your head even as you pushed your ass up—onto your knees, and pressed your fingers between messy lips and pushed them higher. To your untouched rear entrance that sat puckered and glistening from your arousal dribbling down to it.

He sucked in a breath, your lip caught between your teeth when his cock twitched violently—jutting up from his body with unsatiated arousal. Stars, he looked like a god. The ethereal blue light of the moon and the shifting surface of the water casting curls of luminescence across his armor and helmet.

He belonged in stories sang by bards, awe-inspiring and immortalized.

You wanted a sliver of that mighty being he emulated, wanted his eternity.

“Only if you fuck me here…” you heard yourself whine, circling your ass lightly with two fingers, smearing all that viscous release over it.

Your muscles jumped at the contact – unaccustomed to it – but with a little resistance, your fingers breached that tight ring of muscles and Din groaned in a rumble so thick, so sinful—that you had to clench your pussy to stop from orgasming prematurely from just the sound.

“Maker, kitten—fuck.”

One of his hands squeezed the turgid shaft, his free hand running reverently up the back of your sandy thigh to watch as you fingered your ass gingerly.

Cheek pressed onto your forearm to keep your head propped out of the water, you whimpered when you pushed too deep—raw from your impatience and a twinge of pain the result.

“Easy…” Din rumbled, forming a gloved hand over yours, slowing your pace to guide your fingers in and out… in and out… “that’s it…relax—”

His voice was crooning the praise, even as he knelt up behind you properly—lining himself up and steadying you when you pushed back against his crotch. He hushed your protesting whines when he pushed back inside your cunt though, growling for your patience.

A harsh slap fell to your cheek, then another, and another when you didn’t stop—a snarled warning in your ear when he started fucking you again. Timing his strokes to the sloppy thrusts of your fingers not yet used to fingering your ass, he made sure you were always full.

Maker, it was so good…so fucking good—

“More,” you begged, arm cramping from the awkward position and forcing you to pull your fingers out of you to splash into the water beside you.

“Filthy fucking thing—you want me to fuck this little hole, baby?” Din scoffed, massaging his thumb over your entrance as his hips continued to piston his cock into your pussy with long, hard thrusts.

Your head dropped forward—ass pushing back against him and choking on moans for more while he pulled off one of his gloves to toss forgotten on the sands. He replaced your fingers, hooking his thick thumb inside your ass and the size of just that digit had you jerking with the pressure of pleasure it resulted in.

“Fuck—fuck fuckfuck—” you moaned, spasming around him, your knees trembling.

“If you’re too full now—you’ll, fuck—you’ll never be a-able to take my cock—” he chuckled darkly, his vocoder sharpening his voice to an alluring snarl. His words, however, sparked that competitive streak inside you even though the fog of lust.

“Don’t—don’t u-underestimate me,” you panted, leaning forward so his cock was forced to slip out of you when he withdrew. You were playing with fire as you crawled a few steps away, looking over your shoulder at him all the while, “I want you to be the first.”

You were throwing a cheap blow with that one. Looking at him with tempting innocence, knowing he was a hot-blooded male who craved your body and everything he could get from it. Being the first one to fuck your ass would be too good to resist. For either of you.

The Mandalorian knew what you were doing though. He groaned at the restraint he was being forced to display while he contradicted that control with the greedy addition of another finger deep into your ass, stretching you further. You mewled. Arched your back at the pressure but finding a delicious – unique – pleasure laced alongside the discomfort.

Dropping a hand to your clit, you flicked the swollen button to loosen your muscles, your hips rocking against your hand while Din continued to war with himself.

Growling something in Mando’a, he finally relented. And fuck, it blinded you.

The next thing you knew, the fat head of his cock – slippery with your essence – was pressing against your tight ring of muscles. He was massive. Bigger than he felt at your cunt. Rubbing your clit frantically, you encouraged him with panted reassurance—driven wild by his shallow thrusts between your cheeks.

You cried out when his intention shifted and he pushed—your fingers nothing compared to the girth of him as his head breached your entrance and had you fuller than you had ever been before. Stars dotted your vision and you couldn’t catch your breath, sharp pants all you were capable of when your walls throbbed around his intrusion.

Burning pleasure ripped through you as new nerves were ignited and played with, your orgasm brutal. It squirted over the sand with violent jerks of bliss while your fingers continued to work on your clit shakily.

Din was no better. He was quaking with restraint, planting his hand on your shoulder lest you move back too quickly amidst your orgasm and hurt yourself or—possibly, move away. He didn’t want either, he wanted you right here where you were, under him and completely boneless with ecstasy.

“S-so tight, Maker—fuck—” he groaned, the chokehold you held him in too much even for him, and it only took a few short snaps of his hips for him to come deep inside you.

You felt him in your throat—filling you with cum while only his head was notched inside your ass. You were bloated with it, shaking with the temptation of deeper but knowing there was no rush. He could fuck your ass an inch deeper each time for all you cared—you were floating on the reality that he did.

He had taken you the way no man ever had before.

“L-Love you…” you panted quietly against your forearm, arm braced onto the sand by your face while he worked through his release, grunting your name when his high abated and he eased the head of his cock out of you.

It made you hiss, a noise that encouraged his affection as he gentled you with a heavy hand tracing down your curves.

If he heard you hiss—then surely he heard…?

“Did I hurt you?” he rasped, leaning to the side for so his hip could support his weight despite the shallow water around you, worry laced in his tone.

Ah. Maybe not…

You shook your head, turning with ragdoll limbs to nestle against him and released a sigh of contentment—rather than the sighs of apprehension and loss that had been escaping you all day.

It was just another thing you loved him for, and you had all the time in the world to tell him each and every one of those reasons. Right now, his soothing hands running over your sore muscles and graveled words of secret affection were enough to get you through the night.

A night you had feared would break you in the end.

It didn’t because despite your fears, you weren’t alone in that house anymore.

Crack.

Freeze.

The nocturnal glint of vision went unnoticed amongst the underbrush, the noise and stomping and destruction of the party up ahead covering a misplaced paw.

Follow them.

Darkness.

Wind and rain.

Glass.

Tap tap tap.

Hello, child.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #djarinsbeskar writes #stitches #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando #din djarin #mando smut #mando x you #mando x reader #star wars smut #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut

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randomwritingguy · 2 years

Text

The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader UNREQUITED) Part 2

CONFLICT AND NEW FRIENDS

Y/N'S POV

It is a new day for Korra and I after we spent our first night at Air Temple Island. We managed to explore a bit of island to see what was there, as well as having a look at our respective rooms. Honestly, the area and the architecture are beautiful, Tenzin and his family are lucky to live here. Speaking of Tenzin, we are currently having breakfast with him and the Air Acolytes. I look to my right and see Korra reading the newspaper. Knowing Korra, whatever caught her attention has to be exciting.

"And in the final round, the Buzzard-Wasps won with a decisive knockout. What do you say we go to the arena tonight, catch a few pro-bending matches?"

Ah, pro-bending: my favourite sport in existence. I completely forgot about it for a while because of Korra's firebending test and our arrival in Republic City. It would be so cool if we could go and see a match.

Tenzin, however, looks uninterested.

"That sport is a mockery of the noble tradition of bending."

Oh, he's one of those. Great.

Despite this, Korra remains determined. "Come on Tenzin, Y/N and I dreamed about seeing a pro-bending match since we were kids, and now we're just a ferry ride away from the arena."

Oh yeah, how did I forget that the arena is so close to Air Temple Island? Man, I can really be oblivious sometimes.

Although Korra is persistent, Tenzin is determined too. "Korra, you're not here to watch that drivel. You're here to finish your Avatar training. So for the time being, I want you to remain on the island."

I mean, he has a point. We did come here to start Korra's airbending training and make her a fully realised Avatar, not to watch pro-bending. Once that is done, then we can watch the matches. Besides at least the island is amazing, it's not like we're going to be locked in our rooms or anything.

But Korra doesn't seem to get it. "Is that why you're keeping the White Lotus sentries around to watch my every move?"

Oh yeah, they were so quiet I didn't even notice they were there. Like I said, I can be oblivious at times. Still, they feel like parents breathing down their children's necks every second.

Tenzin doesn't see the situation like that though. "Yes, in order to learn airbending, I believe you require a calm, quiet environment, free from any distractions."

I decide to step in. "Master Tenzin is right, Korra. I want to watch pro-bending matches too, don't get me wrong, but we came here to complete your training. We can visit the arena after."

Tenzin seems pleased by my comment, as a small smile forms on his face. "Thank you, Y/N. I recommend you listen to your friend Korra, they recognise the importance of your stay, as should you."

Korra sighs in defeat. "Fine, I'll stay. I'm gonna head to my room and change into my new robes." She walks away, leaving Tenzin and I alone.

I gulp. Is this the right time to ask Tenzin that I want to be a part of Korra's lessons? To be honest, the Air Nomad culture really interests me, and I really want to learn more about it. I take a deep breath and speak up.

"Master Tenzin?"

The airbending master draws his attention away from his food to look at me. "Yes, Y/N?"

"Is it fine if I could attend Korra's lessons? I promise I won't distract her, its just your culture is so fascinating and I want to know more of it."

Tenzin looks surprised for a moment, and then his face softens. "Of course, Y/N. It is nice to see someone as young as you being interested in the Air Nomadic culture."

I grinned. Yes! "Thank you, Master Tenzin."

Wait...does this mean I get my own Air Acolyte robes?

15 MINUTES LATER

I DO!

ANOTHER 15 MINUTES LATER

After walking around the island for a bit, Korra, Tenzin and I approach some sort of gates. In front of them were Tenzin's kids, who I learned were called Jinora, Ikki and Meelo. Ikki seems pretty excited as I see her jumping up and down.

"Korra's gonna airbend! Korra's gonna airbend!"

Korra also noticed the mysterious gates and appears to be amused by them. "What is that contraption?"

Tenzin responds immediately. Of course he will, he's the master after all. "A time-honoured tool that teaches the most fundamental aspect of airbending. Jinora, would you like to explain this exercise?"

Jinora approaches the gates as she explains it to us. "The goal is to weave your way through the gates and make it to the other side without touching them."

"Seems easy enough" Korra replied.

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. There has to be a catch, this seems too simple.

"Jinora forgot to say you have to make it through while the gates are spinning" Ikki responded with excitement in her voice.

Wait wha-

All of a sudden Tenzin steps forward, releasing a powerful gust of wind which results in the gates spinning rapidly.

Ah, there's the catch.

The teacher then proceeds to blow a simple leaf towards the gates. What does a leaf have to do with this?

As if Tenzin read my thoughts, he explains his actions. "The key is to be like the leaf. Flow with the movement of the gates. Jinora will demonstrate."

And immediately, the child is off, effortlessly dodging each of the gates like a expert.

"Airbending is all about spiral movements. When you meet resistance, you must be able to switch direction at a moment's notice."

As Tenzin finishes his sentence, Jinora finally finishes the exercise, finding herself on the opposite side of the moving gates. She then creates an extra gust of wind to increase the speed of the contraption.

Woah. This exercise looks really cool...and intimidating.

Korra doesn't seem fazed at all as she steps forward. "Let's do this."

Oh yeah, she's got this.

And as soon as she steps in, she gets hit by a gate.

And another gate.

And ano-

-Okay, nevermind. At least she's getting back up and trying again.

And then she gets hit by another gate.

And another-

-Stop it.

As I watch Korra trying to pass this exercise, I can hear multiple voices trying to help her.

"Don't force your way through!"

SMACK!

"Dance, dance like the wind!"

SMACK!

"Be the leaf!"

SMACK! SMACK!

And Korra's down.

I run up to her, hoping she's alright. "Korra, are you okay?"

She grumbles for a bit and then sits up. "Yeah, I'm fine."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, you'll get it eventually."

I look up at the spinning gates.

You don't need to airbend to do this exercise right?

Does that mean I could do it?

I look to Tenzin. "Could I try?"

I see Tenzin sigh, still processing Korra's failed attempt. "Very well." he says, as he speeds up the gates with his airbending.

I slowly walk up to the gates and close my eyes, as I take a deep breath. I reopen them and I stare intensely at the gates.

"Be the leaf. Don't force through. Move like the wind." I mutter.

Okay, let's do this.

And off I go.

I walk around the moving gates, miraculously dodging each and every one of them. Honestly, I find the experience very relaxing, yet at the same time I feel like I could do anything without a care in the world.

And all of a sudden, I'm on the other side of the contraption with Jinora.

Wait, what?

I look behind me and yes, I completed the exercise. I grin massively and jump up and down with excitement.

"I DID IT! YES!"

I glance to the others:

The kids look excited, cheering loudly, and Tenzin looks surprised, flabbergasted that I somehow did it on my first try (to be honest, I can't blame him).

I look to Korra, and my excitement drops instantly. She doesn't look excited, nor surprised like Tenzin. She doesn't even look happy for me.

No.

She looks mad, really mad. She looks like she's...

Jealous?

My heart stops beating completely as I come to the realisation.

Korra is jealous of me.

Korra is MAD at me.

I wasn't trying to make her mad, I just wanted do the exercise. I didn't mean to show off or anything.

What did I do wrong?

LATER

It's dark now. Korra hasn't mentioned anything from earlier so its best not to bring it up. She was probably just frustrated that's all. Still, that look on her face, I can't get it off my mind. It was haunting.

Currently my best friend is trying to airbend a newspaper that has a picture of the the infamous Chief Beifong...of course she'll try and do that.

I know I decided not to bring it up but I can't help thinking I should. Did I make her mad? Did I do something wrong? My brain is all over the place and all because of a damn look Korra gave me.

I'm brought back to reality from my thoughts by the sound of a radio.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm coming to you live from Republic City's pro-bending arena, where tonight, the best in the world continue their quest for a spot in the upcoming championship tournament."

Excitement is brought to Korra's face as she begins to walk to the origin of the voice. "Y/N, we got to hear this!"

I'm conflicted. "Korra, you know what Tenzin said, we're not allowed to watch any pro-bending matches."

Korra turns to look at me and her mouth forms a mischievous grin. Uh oh, I know that look. "He never said we weren't allowed to listen to a match though."

Huh...he didn't. Well in that case...

"Grab your snacks and grab your kids because the next match is gonna be a doozy." the radio blasted, whilst Korra and I were on top of a building, staring at the arena.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

"This Mako's got moxie. He advances, fires two quick shots. Yomo is hammered back to zone three."

Oh man this is it.

"Clock is winding down, can Yomo hold on?"

This is so intense!

"He's teetering on the edge of the ring now."

OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN

"The Fire Ferrets line up to strike--"

THIS IS-

Silence. The radio has been shut off.

"NO!" I shout at the interruption and immediately cover my mouth. I can see Korra cringing in the corner of my eye as I can feel my face flush in embarrassment.

"Korra, Y/N, come down here please."

Shit, it's Tenzin. Great.

We both drop drown to see the airbender with a stern look.

And what do we say to him?

I attempt to apologise "Master Tenzin, we're so sor-"

Korra on the other hand...well...

"-You shut it off at the best part."

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say to him.

"I thought I made myself clear. I don't want you listening to this distracting nonsense." Tenzin said, his stern look not fading.

Now normally I would make a smartass comment, but this time my best friend beat me to it.

"But it's their radio. And technically, you said I couldn't watch a match. You didn't say anything about listening to one."

And it appears the smartassness (that's a word right?) catches Tenzin off guard. "You-", he groans in frustration. "You know what I meant. Anyway, shouldn't you-shouldn't you two be in bed by now?" he berates like a parent, and then proceeds to blast wind in our faces.

Korra and I look at each other, and shrug.

THE NEXT DAY

If someone told me a day ago that I would enjoy meditating, I would call them crazy. But now, sitting down and clearing my mind from any distractions, feeling the wind on my face...man, I was so wrong about meditating. It feels so calm, so relaxing.

Currently I'm with Korra, Tenzin, Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo, as we are all in our meditation session. I was hesitant at first but I am glad that I decided to do this.

Korra, on the other hand, isn't finding it so easy.

I swear every second she is doing something, whether that is sniffing or scratching some part of her body. Makes sense, she was always the most hyperactive out of the two of us. Don't get me wrong, I was proactive too, but never as much as her. I should have thought that meditation wouldn't come so easily to her.

After a while, Korra speaks up:

"I think I'm doing it wrong."

"There's nothing to do" Tenzin replies. "Let your mind and your spirit be free, for air is the element of freedom."

Apparently his comment was humorous, as I hear my best friend let out a laugh.

"Is something funny?" Tenzin says curiously.

"Yeah, you're telling me to embrace freedom but you won't even let Y/N and I listen to the radio. And forget about leaving this island."

Ohhhhhhhhh snap.

Tenzin persists despite her complaints. "Please, Korra. Look at Y/N, they are able to meditate peacefully."

A feeling of pride fills my entire being as a smile forms on my face. I hear Korra sigh next to me. Oh no, please don't be mad like last time. I don't even want to look at her face, as I fear I might see that sight again from yesterday.

"Whatever." Korra lazily replies, "None of this airbending stuff makes any sense to me."

Tenzin remains calm as he usually does, "I know you're frustrated, but these teachings will sink in over time. Then one day, they'll just click."

Tenzin is right. These lessons may not click with Korra immediately, but they will eventually, she just has to be patient.

I hear Korra inhale as she attempts to mediate again. Hopefully she'll last more than a-

"Yeah, it's not sinking in yet."

Nevermind.

Korra then decides that she has enough meditating for today, as I hear her get up. "Hey Y/N, want to get a glass of lychee juice with me?"

Normally I would go with her, but meditating is so peaceful and relaxing that I don't want to go just yet.

"No thanks, I'm good. I'll have some later once I'm done meditating."

I hear Korra sigh again and walk away, despite Tenzin's protests. Uh oh...what did I do wrong now?

After I finished meditating, I went to get some lychee juice as well as try to find Korra. Despite my attempts, I can't find her anywhere.

Wait...is she avoiding me?

Nah, she isn't, that's crazy...right?

I'm overthinking it, I have to be. If Korra gets mad again, I'll ask her about it.

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Psst, Y/N."

I wake up from my early night sleep, my vision beginning to clear up.

"Ugh...Korra? What time is it?"

"That doesn't matter. Wanna sneak out and watch a pro-bending match with me?"

HOLD UP WHAT?!

I shoot right up. "Korra, are you crazy? We heard what Tenzin said, we aren't allowed to leave the island! What if we get caught?"

Korra scoffs at my words like I'm talking nonsense.

"Y/N, we always wanted to see a pro-bending match when we were little, and now we finally have a chance. And I want to watch my first game with my best friend." she says, as a smile forms.

I stare at her for a few seconds. She looks good in the moonlight.

I sigh, knowing what my answer is going to be. "Fine, but I'm only going to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

Korra's smile widens.

After a very long swim, Korra waterbends us up onto the pro-bending arena. We did it, we're here. We walk around inside whilst making sure we don't get caught. The place is much bigger than I thought it would be, it is absolutely insane!

Shortly after we entered the building, we come across a very large gym. I've never seen a gym so big before...okay actually I've never seen any gym before, but still it looks so cool.

However it appears luck is not on our side, as we hear a voice and see its origin, with it being a grumpy old man.

"Hey, what are you two doing in my gym?"

Shit, we need to think of something, fast!

"Uh, we were just looking for a bathroom, and we got lost." Korra nervously replied.

Ah, the old pee excuse. This one works everytime.

The old man did not look convinced. "Ah, the old "I had to pee" excuse. You know, I'm sick and tired of you kids sneaking in without paying. I'm taking you both to security!"

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Suddenly, a new hope appeared on our right.

"There you two are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

He looks like one of the pro-bending players. Might be around Korra and I's age, maybe slightly younger. He has bright green eyes and dark black hair. And from the cheery voice and big smile, it looks like he's on our side.

"It's all right, Toza. They're with me."

YES!

And it seems that the old man bought the act as he begins to walk away. "Whatever, I got work to do."

Our saviour then proceeds to guide us away from the old man. When we were out of earshot from the man, I spoke up.

"Thanks a lot man, I thought for sure we were going to get busted."

The player chuckles. "No problem." he replies, as he opens the door to the next room. "What do you think? Best seats in the house, huh?"

What is he-

Oh.

OH.

THIS IS IT! WE'RE AT THE STADIUM! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

Korra appears to be as amazed as I am. "Unbelievable."

I am too excited to even care how loud I am. "Unbelievable?! More like impossible! This looks incredible!"

The player looks at us, a big smile on his face. "Name's Bolin, by the way."

My jaw drops to the floor

Bolin?! THE BOLIN?!

I rush up to him and begin to shake his hand rapidly. "Hey, I'm Y/N and this is Korra. I heard about you a lot on the radio, man you are amazing!"

My compliments appear to hit deep in the man as his smile widens. "Thanks, it is always great to hear something nice from a fan."

"Psst, Bolin."

We both turn to another player, presumably Bolin's teammate based on the shared uniform. He looks similar, but taller with spikey black hair and orange eyes.

Bolin sends me a apologetic smile. "Sorry man, I got to take this."

I send him a smile back. "No worries."

As he walks away I turn to Korra , who has an amazed look in her eyes.

I sigh in defeat.

"As much as I hate to admit it" I say dramatically with a hand on my chest, "I am glad you snuck us out."

Korra stops ogling the stadium and shoots me a smug smile, and proceeds to put a hand on her chest too. "Oh no Korra, don't go out there! Tenzin will be mad!" she says, trying her very hardest to impersonate me.

I shove her playfully. "Please, you call that an impression? "Y/N, if we don't see a pro-bending match as soon as possible, I am going to combustion bend the island!" I reply whilst doing my master-level impression of my best friend.

Korra playfully shoves me back and we both laugh. I am so relieved she isn't mad at me, I can finally stop worrying so much.

After our light teasing, Bolin comes up to us and guides us to his teammate. "I want you to meet my brother, Mako."

Oh snap, Mako? That cool firebender on the radio? Sweet!

Korra especially gets excited. "Mako? Wow, I heard you play on the radio."

Mako doesn't seem phased at all as he walks right past us. "Come on, Bolin. We're up."

Well...that was kind of rude.

"Yeah, sorry about that. My brother just gets real focused before a match." Bolin responds, explaining Mako's mood.

Huh, fair enough I guess, but still that was kind of rude.

As Bolin puts his helmet on and rushes to his other teammates, the whole stadium is consumed in darkness. What's going on?

A bright light appears at the centre of the ring, as a man emerges from a lift.

"Introducing the Fire Ferrets!"

Oh man, this is it! We are finally going to watch a real pro-bending match for the first time ever!

I look at Korra and see a bright smile on her face, which makes my own smile widen even more. It's nice to see her happy after stressing over her airbending training so much.

The commentator speaks up, excitement in his voice "The Rookie Ferrets came from out of nowhere, and have made it further than anyone expected this season. But tonight they face their toughest test yet, folks."

And with the sound of the bell, the round begins.

Watching the game is much different than listening to it. I can see how fast it really is, dodging, parrying, attacking. I have never seen Korra do any of those bending moves before. It is clear that Mako is the best player out of the three, with the way he dodges with minimal body movement. With sheer luck on their side, the Fire Ferrets barely survive round one, with Mako and Bolin on the final zone.

Round Two was much different than the last. As if they were nearly one, the Fire Ferrets go on the offensive and manage to secure a quick victory. Hopefully their final round will just be as fast in their favour.

As if some curse was casted onto them, their teamwork was poor compared to the last game. The waterbender, Hasook I think, stumbles and clumsily falls onto Bolin, which allows the enemy team to knock both of them off the ring. Dammit.

Just when hope seemed lost, Mako decides to play the long gam, not attacking at all and waiting for his opponents to tire themselves out, only to quickly take them out one by one until only the earthbending player is left, with the firebender charging and jumping through the cloud of rock and delivering the final blow, knocking them off the ring.

Just like that, the Fire Ferrets win.

That.

Was.

AWESOME!

Korra and I cheer loudly, the most excited we have ever been when it came to pro-bending. That match was so awesome! I am so glad Korra took me here to watch this!

I turn to Korra, ready to geek out on how great that match was, only to see her smiling at Mako from a distance. Not just any smile, no,...a weird one. The most innocent smile I have ever seen, with her eyes sparkling with happiness and...adoration?

Huh...she never looked at me like that before...yet she did for Mako.

I feel my stomach twisting and I feel...unhappy? Disappointed? What? That's weird...what is going on?

That feeling quickly dissipates, as Bolin jumps in out of nowhere, cheering.

"Whoo-hoo! Yes! One more win and we're in the championship tournament. So, what'd you guys think, Korra and Y/N? Bolin's got some moves, huh?"

Before I could respond to Bolin's question, Korra grabs the earthbender and pulls him towards her.

"What did I think?! What did I think?! That was amazing!" Korra loudly exclaims, pushing him away with plenty of force.

The happiness in the atmosphere however disappears, as Mako and Hasook approach us, and it appears they are arguing about something.

"You did more harm than good out there. You almost cost us the match." Mako said, clear anger in his voice.

His teammate is having none of it, as he chucks his helmet away and leaves the room. Talk about being overdramatic am I right?

Somehow that doesn't ruin Korra's excitement. "You guys were incredible out there. Especially you, Mr Hat Trick!"

That compliment to Mako twists my stomach again, even more than last time. What is going on? Why am I feeling this?

Despite Korra's praise, Mako continues to be dismissive towards her. "Oh, you're still here?"

But this time Korra has had enough. "Oh, you're still a jerk?"

"Ohhhh!" Bolin and I say at the exact same time. We instantly look at each other with wide eyes. "Jinx! Double jinx! Triple jinx!"

After we run out of jinxes, we burst out laughing, tears in our eyes.

After we calm down, Korra turns to Bolin, excitement in her eyes "I've been immersed in bending my entire life, but I never learned how to move like that. It's like there's a whole new style here! Think you could show me a few tricks?"

With no hesitance, Bolin agrees, much to the dismay of his brother. "Yeah, I could show you the basics. I'm just not sure how my earthbending would translate to your waterbending, but we'll figure it out."

Wait...he doesn't know? Korra's going to mess with him isn't she?

I glance at Korra and I can see a teasing smile on her face.

Yep. She's going to mess with this poor guy.

"Won't be a problem. I'm actually a earthbender." Korra says nonchalantly.

Bolin, bless him, immediately begins to apologise. "I'm sorry, no, no, I didn't mean to assume. 'Cause I-you know, I was just figuring-with your water tribe getup, that you are a water tribe gal."

And like the mischievous woman she is, Korra continues to mess with him. I cover my mouth with my hand to hold back my snickering. "Nope, you're right. I'm a waterbender and a firebender."

My snickering gets louder as I see Bolin get even more confused, as well as Mako freezing in place as soon as Korra finished her sentence.

Finally, Mako drops his head down in shame.

"You're the Avatar, and I'm an idiot."

"Both are true." Korra simply replies back.

And just like that I burst out laughing, unable to contain it any longer. Whilst I'm releasing my joy, I can see Bolin fanboying out with the revelation.

You know, these guys are pretty cool. Bolin is really funny and nice, and I'm sure Mako is only in a mood because of the match. I hope we can all become friends, that would be awesome!

I just hope Korra stops staring at Mako like that.

Wait...what?

THE NEXT DAY

Korra is attempting the gate exercise again.

So far, it's not going well. Korra is still rushing into them, which results in her slamming into a gate.

And another gate.

And another-okay seriously stop that.

Suddenly, bright orange flames emerge from the centre as multiple gates are sent flying, engulfed in fire, as Korra stands still, a look of anger on her face.

My jaw drops. Did...did Korra just...?

She did!

Korra just destroyed the exercise!

I can only imagine what Tenzin is feeling.

After a few seconds of intense silence, the poor master speaks up with shock and anger in his voice. "That was a 2000 year-old historical treasure. What-what is wrong with you?!

Korra has had enough too as she angrily approaches him. "There's nothing wrong with me! I've been practicing, just like you taught me, but it isn't working, okay?! It hasn't clicked like you said it would!"

Tenzin returns to his normal calm state. "Korra, this isn't something you can force. If you would only listen to me-"

"-I have been!" Korra interrupts, her anger rising every second, "But you know what I think?! Maybe the problem isn't me! Maybe the reason I haven't learned airbending yet is because you're a terrible teacher!"

Okay, that's going too far now. Time to step in.

"Korra, I'm sorry you are feeling frustrated about this, but Master Tenzin is right, you just can't force through your training. You have to be patient." I said, calmness in my voice.

Korra turns to look at me, her anger increasing even more, and gives me that look again.

"Oh look! Its Y/N lecturing me about something they can never do! You think you're so much better than me at all of this don't you?! Meditating for hours on end and completing that exercise on the first try! You just LOVE humiliating me, don't you?!"

What?

"W-what?" I reply, my voice beginning to shake. "K-Korra, I wasn't trying to humiliate you, I just want to help you-"

"-WELL YOU'RE NOT HELPING ME! ALL YOU'VE BEEN DOING THESE PAST FEW DAYS IS EMBARRASS ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE! WHY DON'T YOU JUST LEAVE NOW AND GO BACK TO THE SOUTH POLE?!" Korra shouts at me, getting right into my face.

...What?

I...embarrass her?

She wants me...to leave?

She doesn't want me around?

I can feel tears pouring down my face as I struggle to form a response.

"Okay...if you want me gone...so be it." I shakily reply, my crying intensifying with every word I say.

I don't give Korra time to respond, as I turn around and run as fast as I could.

Korra wants me gone, Korra wants me gone, Korra wants me gone, I repeatedly thought to myself as I keep on running, not looking back. This was a mistake. A massive, stupid mistake.

What's wrong with me?

A FEW HOURS LATER

I'm sitting at the very edge of the island, nature surrounding me with no-one in site. My knees are close to my chest as I stare off into the city. I haven't stopped crying, not even once.

It's really dark now, but honestly I don't care, I don't want to return just yet. The lights of the city are the only thing that can calm me down right now.

Luckily no-one has found me yet, assuming there is a search party of course. Tenzin probably knows I need alone time, which is why I'm not seeing any White Lotus guards right now. He knows I won't do anything stupid. Korra hasn't attempted to find me either.

Korra.

Even thinking of her is making me cry harder. How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I see the signs? I should have known something was seriously wrong, and now I'm paying the price.

She's probably at the pro-bending match right now, laughing and bantering with Bolin and giving Mako that dreamy-eye smile like she did last night.

That latter thought intensifies my sobs. I don't know why and I don't want to know why. Everything hurts so much. She might not even want to talk to me for a while now, let alone hang out with me. Why would she? I embarrass her.

"Y/N?"

My eyes widen and I shoot up, still and stiff as a rock.

Korra.

I wipe my eyes intensely as I hear her coming closer to me. On the corner of my eye I can see her sit down next to me.

"Y/N, are you alright?"

What kind of question is that?!

I force the tears back, not wanting Korra to see them. I took a deep breath and responded.

"I'm fine, Korra. You should probably leave, you don't want anyone coming here and seeing you with me. It will hurt your reputation."

Korra is silent for a while, and then takes a deep breath too.

"Y/N, please look at me." she says, her voice shaking.

I look at her and, oh spirits, she's crying too.

"I am so, so sorry for what I said to you. You didn't deserve it at all."

I can feel my tears coming back in full force, but I don't care.

"Why did you say it then...?" I weakly say.

Korra sighs as her tears pour down her cheeks. "I was just so frustrated that I wasn't making any progress with my training. And then I saw you and how much better you were at me in the lessons, and I got really jealous. But that was no excuse for lashing out on you like that."

We remain silent for a few seconds, deep in our own thoughts.

Finally, I have the courage to ask her what I was worrying about for the past few hours. "Did...did you mean what you said? About me embarrassing you? About me...going back to the South Pole?"

Korra gasps and her crying becomes faster. "Of course not! You're my best friend Y/N! I said those stuff because I was so mad and I wasn't thinking. But you NEVER embarrassed me, and you never will. And I would NEVER prefer you being back at the South Pole. You have been there for me as long as I could remember, and I would be lost without you. I am so, so sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry."

My eyes widen and I gasp loudly.

Korra isn't embarrassed by me?

Korra wants me to stay with her?

Without thinking, I pull her into a tight hug, holding her like I would die without her.

"I forgive you. I'm sorry for making you feel like that. If you ever feel like that again, please tell me." I say with passion and kindness.

Korra hugs me back with equal intensity. "Thank you Y/N."

We are still crying, but no longer with sadness. No, these are tears of joy. We have forgiven each other, and that's all what matters.

Things have been tough these past few days, but there will always be a bright light at the end of the dark tunnel.

I am Korra's best friend, and she is mine. With us side by side, as well as having new friends protecting our backs, that is never going to change.

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worth-more-than-two-thousand · 3 years

Text

Returning from the Dead is Easier Said than Done...

Request: Welcome, Shiny! May I request an x Reader (can be fem or gender neutral) where Echo (post-citadel) comes up to their s/o's doorstep to give them flowers and ask them on a date? A plus if the Bad Batch teases him for dressing up nicely and buying flowers. Thank you! (@handmaidenthesimp)

Author’s Note: Enjoy! If anybody wants me to repost with a gender-neutral reader, just let me know.

Story Notes: Some swearing, not much else to warn you about. Take place in-between Season 7 of CW and The Bad Batch. No Omega this time, sorry!

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Being declared dead was uncomplicated. Your Republic file was branded with a "KIA" stamp, everyone stoically mourned, and someone just a bit shinier would step in to fill your shoes.

Being declared undead, however, was decidedly more complicated. Oh, Echo was reassigned to Clone Force 99 easily enough. But it was the little things that seemed to get mired in red tape. Getting his few personal effects back. Re-opening his modest credit account.

Approving a rental application.

Admittedly, it wasn't that Echo really needed his own place; clones were conditioned to be accustomed to share minimalist, often-cramped quarters. And they were always on the move, so it hardly made any financial or practical sense, in the long run.

But right now, oh, did Echo dearly wish that he was dressing up in the privacy of his own space...and not the shared cabin area of the Havoc Marauder.

He kept his face stoic, as though readying for battle, refusing to acknowledge his teammates goggling in the background. They had returned early from their supply run. Echo had meant to be out of here an hour ago, but (somehow) hadn’t counted on just how difficult it would be to get dressed into multiple clothing pieces with a scomp link for a hand.

So that’s how his comrades found him: trying to wrangle a neck accessory into submission by sheer will.

Oh, if Fives could see him now.

“You look funny,” Wrecker had declared decisively after an unbearably long silence. “What’s that thing you’ve got on?”

“It’s a suit,” he grumbled, refusing to look any of them in the eye. “I’m going to see Y/N.”

Wrecker gasped like a fishwife. He leaned forward, and pitched his voice low. As though the others couldn’t still hear him in the tinny space. “Your girlfriend? You mean you’re going to see her for the first time....since…” Wrecker made a muted cartoonish sound with his mouth, clenching then expanding his fingers in a gesture for ‘explosion’.

Echo stared at him for a moment disbelievingly, before nodding slowly, forcing the sarcastic response he really wanted to say back down. He couldn’t fault Wrecker for being...well, Wrecker. He had all the tact of a rampaging bantha.

“An’ what’s that? Around your neck?”

Echo opened his mouth, but someone cut across his response. “A bowtie,” Crosshair drolled, though his eyes glittered with amusement. Echo tensed, knowing that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“Fifty credits says he chokes, and he ends up strangling himself with it in shame."

“No way!” Wrecker exclaimed, always the optimist. He clapped Echo on the back, who was unprepared so his knees buckled. He felt his metal joints strain. “Don’t worry, Echo,” his brother rasped in the loudest whisper known to man. “I bet she’s gonna love it!”

“You know,” Tech piped up unhelpfully, “Your strategy may backfire. The current deviation from your usual appearance may be so jarring for your beloved that she refuses your offer out of simple self-preservation instincts.”

Echo gritted his teeth. “Right. You have stats to back that up, I suppose?”

Tech blinked at him owlishly. “Of course I don’t. This is an obvious possible outcome.”

“I’m trying to look nice,” he snapped, scowling.

There was a loaded pause. “...’trying’ being the objective word here,” Crosshair smirked.

Before Echo could wipe the look off his comrade’s face with a well-placed ARC trooper punch that would’ve made Hardcase proud, Hunter wedged his way in between them, hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

“All right, laugh it up, fellas. Personally, I think you’re all jealous because you don’t have a girl waiting for you like Echo does.” Hunter turned to face their newest member, took the bowtie that was clenched in Echo’s fist, and smoothed it out before proceeding to tie it around his neck with surprisingly deft hands.

Crosshair ‘hmphed’ while Wrecker verbally agreed, looking slightly put out by the undeniable truth. Tech simply nodded in neutral confirmation. The group lapsed into a somewhat awkward (but not unwelcome) silence as Hunter finished tugging at the folded ends of the bow, then double-checking to ensure it was straight. He stepped back to assess his work.

“You look good,” he said sincerely.

Echo thought he was in the clear.

Hunter frowned. “But...it looks like you’re missing something.”

Or not.

“Like dignity?” Crosshair drawled from a dark corner of the ship that Echo frustratingly couldn’t glare at.

“A sense of self-confidence,” Tech suggested. He wasn’t joking.

“FLOWERS!” Wrecker boomed confidently. “All girls like flowers. You gotta get her some before you see her!”

“I...fine.” Echo relented, anything to get his teammates to shut up. He shoved his way through them towards the bridge. “I’ll get her some flowers. You all stay here until I get back. I mean it, Fives!” he warned.

An uneasy silence followed him, which he didn’t register until he reached the landing ramp.

He shot an exasperated look back at them. “What?’

“...Your former comrade is not here, Echo.” Tech finally spoke. His words were clinical, as always, but there was a touch of understanding underlying his tone.

Echo froze, just for a moment, then shook off the shock of his faux pas as best as he could.

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, after all.

Echo descended the landing ramp, squared his shoulders, and marched into town.

Y/N lived in a run-down but culturally distinct district of Coruscant, characterized by food stalls from species and ethnicities all over the galaxy. Children often ran through the streets, sellers in colorful robes and attire shouting their wares and art for all to peruse. It was one of the nicer markets, he thought, having come here once. He had been accompanying Y/N on her usual run for specialized ingredients that made the diner she worked at the talk of the galaxy.

Echo elbowed his way through the crowded street, content to simply blend in with the crowd, to forget about being a soldier for a moment.

He paused at a flower stand and was mindful not to draw too much attention to his scomp-link hand as he ordered a dozen sunflowers, which he remembered were Y/N’s favorite. When his credit chip was declined, however, he sighed and reached into his pocket to see what spare change he could muster up. Being that he was wearing a never-worn suit, however, meant that there was no change to be found, and the unimpressed florist snatched the bouquet away.

That’s okay, Echo. Y/N doesn't need flowers. She just wants to see you.

At least, he hoped that was the case. He hadn’t exactly written to her yet, unsure that he could sufficiently explain his sudden non-death in typed words...

Surprise! I’m not dead! Hey, you know that explosion on the citadel? Well, I survived! And out of it, I got an all-expenses paid trip to the Techno Union research facility! Why didn’t I write? Well, I was in stasis most of the time and that part’s a bit fuzzy. I also was responsible for killing my brothers by using their own battle plans against them. Oh, and you might notice that I’m missing most of my fleshy bits these days…

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, which were more rapid these days thanks to his enhancements. He was good at compartmentalizing, though. He had to be. He was still a soldier, through and through, and no one wanted a soldier who was about two seconds away from a mental breakdown.

Yeah, a letter to Y/N wouldn’t have cut it. But he still felt like maybe he could have sent ahead some sort of...heads up? A warning? A ‘Please don’t scream when you see me because I don’t think my heart could take it?’

His feet finally guided him to the front entrance of the building where he knew she lived on the 14th floor. Glancing around, he spotted some blue flowers sprouting in a planter near the entrance. He yanked a fairly healthy-looking handful from the soil, shaking the roots to get most of the dirt off. He tucked the strangled roots into his fist so that they would be less obvious.

It was time. He nodded to himself, squared his shoulders, and entered the building.

A short elevator ride later, Echo could feed the sweat beading at his forehead and neck. At least his fight or flight response seemed to be healthy and alive, and Echo tuned out everything but the door in front of him, adorned with a purple wreath of lavender flowers.

He stood in front of the door, and raised his hand to knock.

He stood…

In front of the door…

...and raised his hand…

...to knock, you coward. Just fucking knock.

His raised knuckles, however, refused to move. Echo caught a glimpse of himself in the curtained window panes on the sides of the door, and at the sight of his bloodless face, suddenly felt a whole lot less sure of himself.

He looked ridiculous.

He and Y/N had barely gotten to know each other before his untimely death.

What if she was with someone new?

This was a terrible idea. Echo should leave now, before he caused himself any more embarrassment. Crosshair might get his fifty credits, after all.

Echo had just convinced himself to turn around and admit defeat, when the door suddenly swung open.

Two Y/C/E eyes met his.

There were points during Echo’s battle career where time slowed to a crawl. When an explosive grenade was thrown just a bit too close, or the comrade you had just exchanged banter with received blaster fire to the face.

Echo was experiencing the same sensation now, but he would voluntarily stay in this moment forever, if he could. He fervently hoped his nightmares would be replaced with the sight that was etched before him.

She was wearing her yellow work uniform, white apron pressed crisply with starch...and was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was up in a messy ‘late-for-work’ up-do, a smudge of blushed color not quite within the lines of her lips smearing her cupids’ bow where she had applied it in a rush.

He couldn’t determine whether her reaction to his sudden appearance was positive or not, and so didn’t dare speak first, breathlessly afraid that if he did, the moment would shatter.

He saw her swallow hard, glancing at him from head to toe, gaze landing on his right hand.

He guarded his heart.

“Ech? Echo, is that you?” she whispered. Her eyes tore away from the scomp link hand, and began searching his face as though just as afraid he would disappear.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s me.”

The silence stretched out, and the fight or flight response was creeping back.

“I know I look a bit different.” He tried for a light-hearted joke, but couldn’t quite get his tone to match. “Had some work done. What do you think?” He winced slightly.

She stepped forward and he froze as Y/N lifted her fingers, hesitating briefly before gently touching one of the metal bolts by his left temple. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“...do they hurt?”

He gasped a little as he remembered to breathe again.

“No,” he reassured her, raising his undamaged hand to steady hers. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”

“...good.”

The wind was knocked out of him as Y/N flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, tardiness to her job completely forgotten.

She began sobbing. It wasn’t neat little sobs, like in the scripted holovids, but heaving sobs that wracked her whole body, and he worried slightly that she was going to faint on him. He forgot about his scomp link for the first time as he rubbed it in circles against her back, murmuring nonsense words of comfort in her ear.

After several minutes, she sniffled, stepping back. She rubbed her nose ungracefully where snot was leaking out, but Echo could have cared less about any of that. He only kept his arms out to steady her, in case she needed support again.

Y/N glanced down suddenly, and flushed.

“Oh. I’ve crushed them.”

Echo followed her gaze and saw that he was still holding the blue flowers from the planter in his good hand, the bouquet having been caught in between their bodies when she had thrown herself at him. They did look a little worse for wear.

He shrugged unconcernedly. “They were free,” he said, not wanting her to feel guilty.

She stared at him for a moment before a bubble of laughter burst from her lips. She still looked like she was about to sob at any moment, but she smiled tremulously at him through shining eyes.

Desperate to make her feel better, he began rambling.

“I can get you better ones! N-not right now, though,” he stuttered. “Actually, it turns out that I don’t have any credits on me at the moment. Everything’s still kind of backed up at the bank regarding my accounts. Also, this suit is new. Well. Not new. It used to belong to this woman’s father who we rescued during a mission on Bith. Long story.” His brain, which worked faster than usual these days anyways, still couldn’t seem to catch up to his mouth.

He forced himself to get back to the task at hand. “I was actually here to ask you for a date. I mean, assuming there’s no one else at the moment…oh, but you have your job to go do…bantha spit, I forgot about that...” He would have to ask Tech if it was possible for his brain to actually short-circuit.

Echo finally trailed off. Now he was the one blushing.

The whole of Domino Squad was probably having a good laugh at his expense right about now, wherever they were.

But Y/N was still smiling at him. And her chin had stopped wobbling. She gently took the flowers from Echo’s hand and placed them on one of the side tables in the hallway before intertwining her fingers with his and grasping his right hand without hesitation.

“Forget about my job. Let’s go on that date. My treat. Though, if I know Dexter, he’ll give us a free meal, on the house. And the rest of the day off."

For the first time since he had joined Clone Force 99, since he had been rescued on Skako Minor, and even before the Citadel...Echo allowed a true grin of happiness to spread on his face.

“A free meal,” he echoed. “Sounds like a plan.”

#fic request #echo #arc trooper echo #tbb echo #the bad batch #star wars tbb #star wars the bad batch #tbb #echo x reader #echo x you #echo x fem reader #sw tbb #sw the bad batch

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terzos-edibles · 3 years

Text

Silver Linings

1. Gotta Keep On, Keepin' On

Summary: No kid, no tribe, and avoiding his responsibilities, Din Djarin has gone back to bounty hunting and mercenary work under the watchful eye of Boba Fett. After a job on Ibaar goes very wrong in more ways than Din would like to count, he is forced to flee with a very peculiar New Republic doctor. He is determined to get enough credits and fuel to drop the doctor off on her home planet and be done with it. But will he be able to part ways with her after she finds all the right and wrong ways to push his buttons?

Words: 1.8k

Rated Mature: language, canonical violence, depression, mentions of suicidal behavior.

“I don't know if I'm scared of dying But I'm scared of living too fast, too slow Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go There’s no starting over No new beginnings time races on.” - My Silver Lining, First Aid Kit

Ibaar-

The fist of the Empire reached far, sweeping across the farthest reaches of the Galaxy; the deepest corners seemed to have felt its influences. Even the smallest, poorest planets had Stormtroopers deployed to them - a formality to further oppress the planets’ occupants and show their might - and dissuade any sort of rebellion from sparking. The destruction of the second Death Star and subsequent death of Emperor Palpatine at the hands of the Rebellion had shown that plan hadn’t, well, panned out. Still, in the five years or so after the fall of the Empire, the New Republic was just now starting to finally make its way into the Outer Rim Territories after ensuring that the more strategically essential planets were well taken care of. Remnants of the Empire still clung to those planets, holding out hope that the Empire would somehow revive itself and their loyalty would be rewarded. Many felt that the New Republic had abandoned them, that things hadn’t gotten any better since the Empire had fallen. It would be the same as it had always been. The Outer Rim would continue to be forgotten, continued to be terrorized by Remnant Stormtroopers, continued to be terrorized by pirates, and continued to be terrorized by gangsters. People had given up hope once again.

But, aid was coming. Slowly, but it was coming. New Republic troops were starting to make their way back out towards planets that needed them, bringing with them much-needed supplies and rations. Marshals were installed in the major cities and villages to help keep the peace and bring a sense of law to an otherwise lawless territory. Medical teams were dispatched to provide much-needed tautology assistance to planets that were unable to get the care they needed.

Doctor Gertrude Ásketill was the first in line to sign up for those peace operations. She was coming hot off of her time as a rebel medic. She was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and full of hope as they deployed her to the first assignment. She had an entire team - plenty of assistants and droids to ensure that everyone got the proper care they needed. They were able to start a proper clinic, train the locals, and establish a line to the core planets to ensure they could get all the medicine and vaccines they would need. Trudy felt good when she left that planet for the second.

The second planet saw fewer supplies and resources. She thought maybe it might have been a mistake. This planet had a bigger population than the last. Perhaps they didn't realize they needed to send more supplies, but then the third and fourth planets came. Supplies and resources were stripped as funding got cut, and slowly her team was redistributed to other projects.

And that left Trudy on the fifth planet - Ibaar.

It was just her and a few other doctors spread across the Outer Rim that was left of the program. She was sure that they would be recalled back to Chandrila - the capital of the Republic, but that had been almost a year ago. She had been on Ibaar for about as long. She was alone; at least, it felt that way. The only other two in her clinic with her was an older model R4-7 droid named A9-C that had been reprogrammed to help in the medical field. The humanoid-shaped, bug-eyed droid was built in the early days of the Empire and complained more than he assisted. The other was a teenager named Max, who had taken an interest in medicine. Whether it was because he liked Trudy or wanted to become a medic was to be answered. He was a good assistant and listened.

The only other Republic representative on Ibaar with Trudy was the Marshal: Baxley Morgan. How that man ever got the job of Republic Marshal was beyond her. It was probably why he ended up out here. He had a good heart, but the boy was dumb as a brick, and while she was no fighter - she could at least shoot a blaster well enough to hit whatever she was pointing at. It might not have been where she wanted it to go, but at least it’d hit its target.

The Empire had put blockades up to punish the Ibaarians for being sympathetic to the rebel cause. The aid that had been promised to the Ibaarians had finally come, and it was a little lackluster. The locals were friendly enough, but they felt a little betrayed. Trudy couldn’t blame them.

Trudy had become jaded herself; things were back to the status quo. There weren’t any more Imperial blockades, but with the lack of resources and supplies coming in - there might as well have been.

Ibaar, all-in-all, wasn’t a bad planet. It was a mountainous, temperate planet. The capital village, and the one that Trudy was in, was nestled in a valley - built into the side of the mountain while the rest of the land in the valley was used for farming. The natural cliffs that reached their stony fingertips to the sky provided a natural defense for the village, and the hundreds of waterfalls that cascaded down their sides gave the village and farms much-needed water. On a clear day, you could see for miles around. Though for all of Ibaar’s beauty, the weather was the worst. They could be lucky to see the sun one, maybe twice, per month. The rest of the month was plagued with overcast clouds, fog, daily rain, and nightly thunderstorms. It took some getting used to, and Trudy had ordered extra vitamins to help with the lack of sun.

Despite being the capital village of Ibaar, Laakso Village didn’t even have its own docking bay within the village’s boundaries, especially - making already scarce supplies harder to get. Luckily speeders made that journey a bit less complicated, though it was still rough going. A local warlord and his gang - a former Imperial commander and his troopers - had taken it upon themselves to decide that the Ibaarian Mountains were a great place to hide and run their smuggling business out of, using the old rebel tunnels from the war.

It made things dangerous.

Unsuspecting travelers going to and from the port or any of the other smaller villages in the mountains would be ambushed. Those lucky to survive had their property stolen. The bandits would look for anything from blasters, food, credits, various forms of technology they could get their hands on, and medical supplies. Trudy didn’t know how many villagers and travelers she had patched up in her time there, injured by ambushes. While the gang kept the locals terrified, they still hadn’t been bold enough to make their way into Laasko Village, choosing instead to raid the smaller outer villages - ones not protected by a marshal.

Baxley was having a hell of a time dealing with it himself and had brought up hiring some extra help. Trudy had nipped that in the bud; hiding behind hired mercenaries wasn’t going to do anyone any good - that he really needed to call in support from the Republic. The conversation tapered off after that, and the emergency seemed to have died down. However, as it always did, there was no downtime. The newest crisis cropped up - the report of the flu on a neighboring planet in the same system. A planet Ibaar happened to trade with. Which meant Trudy had to work to get vaccines to Ibaar before everyone was sick. She had ordered them about a month ago. Thank the stars someone was on her side, and the vaccines only took a month to get to her. Someone had made the shipment hastily, and they were currently waiting for someone to pick them up. Trudy couldn’t pull her boots on fast enough when the docking attendant called her to report they had been dropped off. Within fifteen minutes, she was in a speeder with a blaster and Max in the passenger seat. They would get there by nightfall - if they were lucky. Trudy just hoped to the stars above that nothing happened on their way.

----

It seemed as though Trudy’s silent prayers were answered. She pulled the speeder around to the docking bay and left it idling as Max hopped out of it, striding up to the attendant’s office and rapping his knuckles on the glass. He had grown like a sprout since Trudy had been there, now easily towering over her - though that wasn’t exactly hard to do. Brownish red shaggy hair constantly fell into his eyes, much to his mother’s dismay, and he was a lot less intimidating than he liked to think he was, especially with those freckles. Trudy waited as they exchanged words, waving a hand as the attendant poked his head out of his office and motioned to where the vaccines were - clearly annoyed he had been interrupted from his dinner and whatever wrestling match was on the holo. Trudy moved towards the vaccines, scanning them in with the datapad she pulled from her pack and happy to see that they didn’t have to quite rush back with them. Their cooling system had enough charge to allow them to rest a little bit - though they would still have to make the trip back by night. Max helped her load the crates into the back of the speeder and went out front to buy them both some roasted tip-yip and drinks from the food cart out front. Trudy turned around, eyeing the gunship docked in the bay the vaccines had been stored in. Annoyance twisted in her stomach that the valuable vaccines were stored where some random visitor to the planet could just poke through them. Though, the presence of the gunship made her raise an eyebrow. Not many ships like this made their way out here; either the owner was here for a quick refuel, or they were up to something no good. She scowled at it as Max returned with the tip-yip on a stick and a couple of cool bottles of water. “We didn’t get harassed today,” Max observed as he sat down on the roof of the speeder, and Trudy took a seat inside. “You think somethin’ is goin’ on?”

She nibbled at the meat on the stick and offered a shrug, turning to look back at the gunship. “Who knows. I just hope they keep whatever they’ve got going on out of the village. I want to sleep peacefully when we get back.”

You know the phrase famous last words? Those were Trudy’s.

--- Miles away, a Mandalorian clad in beskar armor was about to attempt to take down a stronghold of bandits and remnant stormtroopers all on his own. Maybe Fennec Shand was right. Maybe he was suicidal. ** Chapter 2: But I Ain't Dead Yet Taglist: @novemberrain221, @blackdogdesignuk, @mistyfur5, @thepoisonofgod

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x oc #boba fett #fennec shand #din djarin x female oc #oc characters #oc character #grogu #the mandalorian x female oc #let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

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knightprincess · 3 years

Text

In This Heart of Mine (Crosshair x Fem Reader) Oneshot

Words: 2336 Warning: Grief - Implied Character Death A/N - Not proof read also her/she pronouns used Description: Crosshair remembers how he lost his Runi.

If there was one thing Crosshair hated about the empire. It was how they look his love away. Despite it being months since the Republic and Jedi Order had fallen, it still hurt him to remember it, he still hadn't dealt with the grief, the brokenness he so often felt. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, it always caught up with him during the quiet moments. Even now he could swear he heard (Y/N)'s voice, so clear as if she was standing right beside him. Crosshair guessed in a way she was, she was still with him if not physically then in his heart, closer than ever.

"Wish you were here (Y/N)" whispered Crosshair, his barracks empty, his brothers having left him behind days after he lost (Y/N). Days after his life had been ripped to shreds. They had yet to come back for him, despite the obvious he still hoped they would, he hoped they hadn't given up on him, not now when he still needed them so much. His new squad members weren't his favorite people, if he was honest he hated them, to him it felt like they were replacing his brothers, or at least the empire was. They took away his (Y/N), now they were trying to replace his brothers with natural born soldiers, people he hoped would just leave him be.

Crosshair didn't know the name of his new squad members. He didn't bother trying to remember them, even more so when comments had been made about how miserable he was, how they could do a better job just because they were natural born and he was a clone. Every time they were sent on an assignment he found himself hoping they didn't come back, or if they did they wouldn't return to the barracks. He wanted his brothers, if he couldn't have that, then he'd rather be left alone to grieve and remember the better times of the past. Times that he wished he could go back to now. If only so he could tell (Y/N) he loved her one more time. Even now he could still remember how he had lost her.

Flashback

The snowy terrain of Kaller was a welcome sight compared to the normal battlefields. Although the thick black smoke bellowing towards the grey filled sky, was a good give away as to where the battlefield actually was. Tech had made a comment about needing to reach General Depa Billada and her Padawan Caleb Dume soon. Wrecker mentioning something about not being able to wait to get his hands on the droids and destroy something, it was clear the oldest of the special unit was getting impatient, perhaps more so than he was on the Marauder heading over to assist. Echo and Hunter continued on with their conversation, although both keeping an eye out for any battle droid that was roaming the area or stragglers from the battle to have already taken place in the area they walked quietly through.

Crosshair on the other hand was towards the back of the small group, walking just behind (Y/N), his Jedi General and lover. His normal smirk placed upon his lips, although shielded from everyone else by his helmet. The sniper not being able to help but look over her, to admire her beauty, even when she was determined to help those she considered friends. Her lightsabers attached to her belt, ready for when she needed them, a sure thing considering they were once again heading into the battlefield. At their current position at the top of some snow covered hills, they were in the calm before the storm.

Also on the large steep hill was Caleb Dume, he seemed hopeful yet confused to see them, as if he was expecting more. Although he seemed pleased even reassured to see one of those sent as reinforcements was (Y/N) (Y/L/N), one of the many Jedi Knights, although one whom was rather well known to the republic at this point. Her power alone made her famous. Although she had also become known for her skills in battle since the wars had began just over three years prior.

What would have been an ordinary reinforcements mission had quickly gone sideways. Crosshair could remember (Y/N) leading Hunter, Echo, Tech and Wrecker into the fight against the battle droids, blue lightsaber at the read. The young Padawan having returned to his master to keep them updated on what was going on. He had watched as they took out the enemy forces, how Wrecker was having the time of his life, even how Tech made a comment or two as if greeting an old friend. Even how Echo effortless took out the battle droids around him. Hunter using his knife and blaster as he always did, where as (Y/N) had effortlessly deflected laser bolts and helped destroy the tanks and spider droids. Crosshair had done his normal task and covering for those in the thick of it from his lofty perch. Shooting any and all droids who got to close to those he cared for and loved.

Yet it was after that when everything went wrong. (Y/N) had given them orders to take out what remained of the droids nearby, to help with the counter attack, agreeing to allow the Caleb to go with them. Only when they were a distance away did they all receive an order, especially from the Chancellor. Execute Order 66. Caleb sensing something turned back, seeing his master fighting against the clones surrounding her, already too many of them for her to handle alone, he was about to go back when he heard her yelling for him to run. Although he had been frozen to the spot. Only moving when (Y/N) grabbed hold of his arm and running, her other hand hold the side of her neck.

Crosshair had wished he didn't have enhanced sight that day. What he saw still haunted him. (Y/N) had appeared in shock, her eyes wide, one of her lightsabers missing. Yet the hand holding the left side of her neck, slowly turn crimson, as a trail of blood was left in her wake. Almost instantly Crosshair had felt fear, hate even. Yet none the less listened to the orders given by Hunter. Wrecker was stall the regs if any came searching for (Y/N) and the Padawan, Echo and Tech were sent to find out what was going on and why the regs and turned so suddenly? Why they fired on their commanding Jedi? Where as Crosshair was set to go with Hunter to find both (Y/N) and Caleb.

As order Crosshair veered off to follow the tail of crimson staining the snow. Finding himself getting more anxious as he continued to follow it, dreading what he would find at the end. His worst fears being met when he come to the end of the trail of blood. Finding (Y/N), lent against a tree, more pale than the snow she sat upon. Her hand still holding on to the wound to her neck, as if to stem the bleeding or hide it from others. Fear shone so brightly in her eyes, yet so did her sadness and pain.

Without a second thought Crosshair ran to her side, taking off his helmet as he did so. Ignoring the voice in his head yelling the same four words over and over again. Instead focusing on his lover. The moment he reached her, he reached for her hand, taking hold of it in a gentle grip, feeling as she weakly squeezed his hand in return, as if to reassure him he was still alive, all be it just. She still had some strength left. Within seconds Crosshair had pulled her into his lap, fighting back his tears, even more so when gently moved her bloody hand from her neck, seeing just how back to wound was. Instantly he knew there was nothing he could do to help her. Only make her comfortable in her final moments. Yet still he hoped his words would encourage her to fight a little longer, until help arrived at least.

"Don't you give up on me Mesh'la. Just hold on" quietly spoke Crosshair, his words seeming so loud in the quiet area. He soon placed his own hand over her neck wound, taking hold of her hands in the other. Only now when looking over her, did he see she had been hit more than just once. Another scorch mark on her lower leg, just beneath the knee and a third on her right shoulder. "Remember the plans we made for when the war was over. Finding a plot of land somewhere, somewhere quiet and off grid, somewhere away from all the chaos and hassle" started the silver haired sniper, recalling the many conversations he had with her about leaving everything behind when the war was finally over. Taking his brothers with them, only telling a few trusted ones where they were going. They had planned a life together.

"I love you" whispered (Y/N) in response, lying against him. Her back against his chest, his long legs either side of her. Tears soon come to her eyes, as the inevitability hit her, she was going to die. Just like the other Jedi who had already fallen. Yet she had something they didn't, her sniper at her side and the knowledge of knowing none of her unit had betrayed her. "Promise me, you'll go on, you'll keep living" choked (Y/N), as she began to cough up her own blood, her end fast approach, even Crosshair knew it, he could feel her hands growing colder and heaver as her body went numb.

"No" responded Crosshair, his voice as quiet as hers, as he fought the losing battle with his tears and heartbreak. "There's no living without you" added the sniper, showing how much he loved her, how much she meant to him. "I love you Cyar'ika, please just stay with me" begged Crosshair. Tears breaking through his barrier as her hand fell from his, as she let out her final waspy breaths. All Crosshair could do was hold on to her tightly, hugging her, protecting her as he struggled to see anything past the blurriness of his tears. A strangled yell ripping from his throat moments later. "Come back (Y/N), Please come back. I love you, please" cried Crosshair, hugging her as tightly as he could, not wanting to let her go. Not wanting to do anything other than be there with her.

Hunter had found him moment later, having heard his strangled yell. He lent down besides the pair, closing (Y/N)'s dull (E/C) eyes for the last time. Placing a hand on his brother's shoulder moments later, trying to be strong for his grieving young brother, knowing his heart had broken beyond repair. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to Crosshair, nor did he protest when Crosshair reached for her remaining lightsaber, tinted crimson with blood.

End of Flashback

Crosshair soon shifted, reaching for the box on the small shelf behind his pillow. With a heavy sigh he opened the box, (Y/N)'s lightsaber still inside. He'd made a point of preserving it, even more so when it was all he had left of her now. He cleaned it whenever he cleaned his rifle, it being part of his routine. If he was feeling down before a mission, he'd take the lightsaber with him, so how it always helped to make him feel a little better. Crosshair liked to believe (Y/N) was with him when he had the lightsaber.

"I'll make the galaxy a better place (Y/N). I'll make sure they don't forget you" whispered Crosshair, knowing his choice to stay with the empire, wasn't one he made easily. It was difficult, yet his brothers had helped with his choice. They had saved him when Kamino was destroyed, yet the distrust had been obvious. "One day I'll avenge you my runi" promised Crosshair, recalling when he had retrieved the (Y/N)'s lightsaber from his old barracks in Tipoca city, his determination had kicked in to save it. Hunter had put it in his pack, returning it once they reached the landing pad. Yet the real and only reason Crosshair had remained with the empire was revenge, they took his runi away from him, took his home away, turned his brothers against him and tried to kill him. His only motivation was to ensure the empire would fall, even if doing so cost him his life.

"We'll see each other again (Y/N). Reunited when its all over" whispered Crosshair, as he left his barracks on board the star destroyer he'd been assigned to. Determined to remind the oblivious imperials of what they had helped take away and destroy. Determined to do what he thought was right, in the name of his lost love. Determined to see through what he hoped would be his redemption, or at least that's what he believed he was doing by helping Rex located their brothers still within the empire, Wolffe, Cody, Howzer even Dogma, as well as passing on information regarding future plans for the remaining clones, besides being fazed out of service.

"In this heart of mine. You'll live for a lifetime" uttered Crosshair, his attention being drawn to the photo he held on to now. One taken during the war, it was clear it was during one of the many assignments. (Y/N) held on to her blue lightsabers, he was just behind her, his rifle one her shoulder as he aimed at something in his sights. (Y/N) actually looked like she was covering him while he destroyed something in the far distance. With that Crosshair returning his focus to the self given mission of bringing the empire down, no matter the cost.

Translation: Runi = Soul

#crosshair x jedi reader #crosshair #ct-9904 #star wars oneshot #oneshot #star wars #jedi reader #order 66 #implied death #grief #the bad batch

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coraldetectivebeard · 2 years

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[Fan Theory] about Ezra Squall and other deceased Wundersmiths

Hi, I just finished all three books over the last couple of weeks, and I'm having 2 theories about Squall and what happened, and I wanna share them here since I don't have any friends reading them.

Let's start with the fact:

History of Wundersmith is hidden from the public, and there is a lot of propaganda against Wundersmith in general in Nevermoor, not just against Squall, even though other Wundersmiths were presumably killed by trying to stop him.

Squall was a joyous child and seemed to love his friend.

Squall said he loved Nevermoor more than anything else, he would do anything, kill anyone to go back to Nevermoor, but he chose to not go back to keep the much greater threat out.

Squall killed all eventide children because he does not want to have other Wundersmith (he said he does not want to share wonders with other Wundersmith).

There was something that happened that made Onstald also start hating Wundersmith, all Wundersmith, and he did not even mention Squall.

The elders mentioned something like Wundersmith started getting arrogant in the first C&D class.

Squall claimed that he tried many things to keep his city safe, and he loved Nevermoor more than anything, more than life itself.

Squall believed that the life of a Wundersmith ought to be lonely, and does things that were asked just to take the blame.

So I have 2 theories kinda favoring Squall and trying to explain what happened.

The first one is similar to the Itachi Uchiha arc in Naruto, basically, someone ordered Squall to kill other Wundersmith, and anyone that can become Wundersmith (Eventide child) because they might also become a great threat to Nevermoor, or a tool the "bigger threat" (maybe have something to do with the republic) would take advantage of to conquer Nevermoor. This is the same as Itachi having to kill his entire family because his family was too powerful and posed a great threat to the village, and Itachi had to kill everyone to protect the village. This might explain why Onstald is so terrified of Wundersmith toward the end of this life, all Wundersmith, and not just Ezra. Wunsoc might also be the one involved in this because they tend to ship the narrative of most things, and actively hide the real history of Wundersmith to others.

Maybe since the "threat" is getting bigger than ever, and Squall can deal with it himself, that's why he let Morrigan live. The reason why he chose Morrigan might have to do with which Wundersmith is her deceased, which decides the skillset she can master more than anything else, and their ability to help them against the greater threat.

The second one is the death of all the Wundersmith was a decision made by all of them, all Wundersmith sacrificed themselves to prevent some threat to Nevermoor, and one of them (Squall) will have to live, have to stage killing all Wundersmith and to wait for a suitable successor (Morrigan). This might explain why Squall always says Wundersmith has to be lonely, and take all the blame because that's his life, he was staged to kill everyone he loved, his only family, and exiled from his own home.

These are my theories and everything buzzing in my brain after reading too much fiction and getting too engrossed in this new world but having no one to discuss it with (kinda like Morrigan in SubNine).

I think in the next book(s), we might know more about what actually happened through Ghastly Hour, probably Onstald saw something horrifying there and kept it for himself, maybe if Jupiter was to meet Squall in person for once, he might be able to read something out of that man. If Squall is secretly the bravest man who ever lived instead of the evilest man who ever lived, he might sacrifice himself toward the end of the series, by spending all his wunder on destroying something terrifying. Also, hopefully, there would be more chance for Unit 919 to work together, using their different abilities and knacks instead of the wundersmiths doing everything and overpowering everyone like in Hollowpox, because that will be utterly lonely for Morrigan, and kinda unfair for both others and the Wundersmith, and seems like a recipe for disaster in a long run.

#nevermoor #ezra squall #morrigan crow #wundersmith #hollowpox #silverborn

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peonysink · 3 years

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The Nicest Boy in the Galaxy

Part III

Part II here

Part I here

Warning: Explicit, 18 +

Note: More lovely moments with Echo, as you woke up in his arms. Later you spend an incredible night toghether back at your place. This is where the smut happens :)

Also, Echo deserves the world!

You woke up to the sound of faint voices. You opened your eyes, and it took you a second to figure out where you were. That usually happened when you slept well, and this was one of those nights. The first thing you saw was Echo’s big smiling eyes. Your body was still entangled with his, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, and your leg resting on his his.

“Good morning” - he whispered in your ear, his raspy voice sending electricity through your whole body. His eyes were rested and his whole face looked more relaxed than before.

“Good morning”, you said. “This is a nice way to wake up”

As soon as you said that you remembered all the other soldiers that were sleeping in the same room, and you quickly lifted your head to see if they were still there.

“Don’t worry, they’re up. They’ve been for a while’ - Echo read your mind.

“They must have had hundred questions for you this morning”

Echo smiled.

‘I’m sure Hunter will explain them who you are. Not sure he’ll explain how you ended up in my bed"

“Oh” - you replied.

“Don't worry, no one will be reaching any conclusions. They know me well enough to... they know I’m not like that” - Echo said, and once again confirmed your gut feeling you had from the moment you met him that there was something incredibly pure and sweet about him.

“I’m not worried” - you smiled, and put your head back on his chest. “I’m good. This feels good. I could stay this way forever” - you said and threw your arm across his chest and hugged him tight. “But I guess we should move, shouldn't we? - you asked him.

"Not yet" - he replied and kissed your forehead. "A few more minutes.”

You tugged closer to him, and once again threw you leg across his. He felt how comfortable and relaxed you were.

“Emma” - he said in a more serious tone.

“Yes?” - You replied not moving.

"I’m sorry about last night. I feel like i owe you an explanation…”

"No, you don’t Echo, it’s okay…”

"I know, but I want to tell you… " - Echo insisted.

You lifted your head slightly and looked at him:

"Okay, I’m here, I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment.

"I lost my legs and my arm in a blast in a mission at the Citadel, few years ago. It was a rescue action, and we were saving a jedi master and his men caught by the separatists. The blast knocked me out, and my squad thought I was dead and they had to move on, but I survived and I was kidnapped by the separatists. For a long time I was unconscious, kept in a stasis chamber - they tried to take my humanity and turn me into a machine. They hooked my brain to a computer and scanned it constantly to get access to everything I knew about the military tactics and strategies. They used that information to defeat the Republic forces in numerous battles…"

Echo’s voice almost broke as he said the last sentence. You could hear that this was something that wasn't easy for him to talk about and that he was still coming to grips with it. He unconsciously contributed to his forces’ defeat - that was a lot of weight to carry on one's shoulders.

"I was helpless like that... a vegetable hooked to a machine, until I was rescued by my captain. And these guys."

He pointed his head towards the voices you could hear at the other end of the ship.

"This squad saved you?" - you asked.

He nodded.

“I owe everything to them.” Echo said. "I’d still be trapped in that place, given that no one knew I was alive. But Rex, my captain, never gave up on me. He came back for me in what was almost a suicide mission. And suicide missions are the bad batch's speciality” - he smiled.

"Bad batch?" - you asked.

"That’s the name of our squad. That’s what they call themselves, anyway. The four of them are defective clones, with desirable mutations. That’s why they look different from other clones.”

"That’s amazing” - you replied, your eyes wide. "I had no idea clones could have different mutations like that.”

"Not many do. They are unique.”

"Well then you fit very well in this squad” - you said and lifted your head more to look him closer in the eyes.

Echos eyes were warm and you could feel his arm pull you closer.

You felt incredibly privileged that he shared all of this with you and you wanted him to know. You put your hand on his cheek and you felt him melt into it. He moved your head closer to his and you kissed him. His lips were soft and gentle, and you couldn't get enough of that kiss. You pulled his head towards yours, and he tangled his fingers in your hair. Everything disappeared around you, once again, there was nothing else that ever mattered, nothing came before or will after this moment. Just the two of you, holding each other tight, feeling safe in each other company, sharing the best kiss both of you ever had. You had no idea how long time it passed, but a sound of Hunters voice brought you back to reality.

"Erm, sorry” - you heard his smoky voice.

You both jumped.

“I really am” - Hunter said and smiled.

You blushed, and Echo saw that and tightened his arm around you and whispered "it’s okay” to your ear.

"It’s okay, Hunter. Something you need?" - Echo asked him.

"We need to get to work soon" - Hunter hesitated, clearly not happy that he interrupted you and Echo, but they had a schedule and you realised that Echo was late.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault” - you said and started getting up from the bed. Echo put his arm around your waist and stopped you, as you sat up on the bed and said:

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Emma. It’s nothing that can’t wait."

You looked at Hunter, and he could read on your face that you felt bad, so he sent you a little nod.

“It’s okay. We need to work on some strategies today, and our boy Echo here is our biggest expert. But we have a whole day ahead of us. Have you slept well?” - he asked you.

“I slept very well,” - you answered. Better than in a long time." - you answered and touched Echo’s hand around your waist.

“Glad to hear that. That rain last night was not like any other I’ve ever seen. And I grew up on Kamino.” - Hunter said. “When you're ready, come outside. It’s actually sunny now." - he turned and left.

You were siting on the bed, your feet now touching the ground, and Echo hugged your waist, still lying in bed. He hugged you even closer and buried his head in your lap:

“I wish I could stay this way whole day” - he said.

You touched his head, gently.

"Me too” - you said, "but I think we should probably come outside. I don’t want to impose here more than necessary”

“You’re not, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want” - Echo said, and hugged you closer.

“I wish I could. But I should probably go and check on Denize. - you said. “I don’t want her to worry”.

Echo kissed your thigh and unwrapped his arms around you. You got up, found your clothes and went to the bathroom. The whole night felt magical. You felt so safe and comfortable in Echo’s arms, and it was difficult to find the strength and motivation to get up and leave. You felt great but you couldn’t help yourself thinking - what did all this mean? Why did it feel so good?

When you left the bathroom, refreshed and back in your clothes, you found the whole squad outside. Echo joined them, and his face brightened when he saw you again.

“Emma, this is Crosshair and Tech” - he introduced you to the two troopers you haven’t met before, and who were sound asleep last night when you arrived.

“Nice to meet you” - you greeted them. The taller one with a crosshair tattooed across his right eye slightly nodded, but kept looking at you intensely, and the trooper with the glasses smiled politely. Hunter offered you a ration bar, and you realised in that moment, that this was what they were living on the entire time. Their breakfast, lunch and dinner. You wanted to do something for them while they were here, and repay them for their generous hospitality last night, so you had an idea:

“I really would like to stay” - you said and turned to Echo, whose smiling eyes never left you for a moment, "but I should get going. I’d like to invite you all to a dinner tonight at my place. There will be some home-cooked food, specialities from my planet and it would be my honour if you’d be my guests. What do you say? - you looked over at Hunter, and he nodded:

“That’s not an offer we get that often, Emma, so yes! Of course! We’d love to!”

“We’ll be there” - Echo said and smiled and came closer to you one step. Wrecker sent you thumbs up.

“Great! I live right by the market, the tall blue house right at the entrance - you cannot miss it!” - you said.

"We’ll be there, Emma. Thank you” - Echo replied, and the other troopers seemed to have liked that idea as well.

“I’m looking forward to it” - you said. "I really should get going now” - you turned to Echo. Echo nodded.

“I’ll walk you a bit” - he said, but you didn’t want to take much more of his time, and you shook your head and came closer to him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. They need you now. I’ll see you tonight” - you said and smiled, and saw that Echo was almost about to kiss you and he restrained himself in the last moment, which made you smile even wider.

“Okay then, I’ll be counting the moments till I see you again tonight, Emma” - he said.

“Me too” - you replied and turned to the other troopers:

“Nice meeting you all. See you tonight”

They waived back and you walked home thinking about what you’ll cook for them and how much you were looking forward to host them and return the hospitality.

—

Echo lifted his head and saw Hunter at the ship’s entrance. He saw it in his eyes immediately. He felt the ground open under him.

"We’ve been called up. We have a new mission” - Hunter said, not removing his eyes from Echo. Other troopers got up immediately, but Echo stayed frozen. Hunter came closer to him:

“I can give you an hour” - he said quietly.

——

You managed to get all the ingredients at the marked, everything you needed for a nice meal you were planning to prepare tonight. Denize was working at your stand, and you came home earlier to start preparing and cooking. Your thoughts were still full of Echo, you could still feel his hugs all over your body, and you couldn’t get those kisses out of your mind. All of a sudden there was a loud knock at your door, the emergency of which almost scared you.

You came closer to the door, almost hesitating to open it, and then you heard Echo’s voice:

“Emma?”.

You jumped, and opened the door, and you saw him. His eyes told you immediately something was terribly wrong. He looked flushed, almost out of breath.

“Echo, what… what happened?” - you asked.

“We’ve been called up. We’re leaving in an hour” he said. You felt like someone punched you in stomach, real hard, and all the air left you lungs.

“What…how..” - was all you managed to say and you felt dizzy and like you were going to collapse. You felt your knees were going to give up and Echo saw that and he came one step closer and caught you. He held you tight around your waist, and you threw your arms around him. He held you, and walked inside, closing the door behind him. You both knew. There were no words left to say. This was the reality. He was a soldier, and this was what his purpose was. He’ll be leaving. He’ll always be leaving. It was up to you to find those moments, those precious moments, and to treasure them, to make them yours and to make them matter. You felt the tears in your eyes, but you tried your best to hold them back. You lifted your head and you found his eyes. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. He was sorry. Sorry to put you through this, both of you. Sorry to make you feel this way, sorry for leaving. But you both knew that there was no time for that - none of that would or should ruin your moment. Your hour. You had an hour, and you could pack an entire galaxy of happiness and love in that hour. You pressed your lips against his, and you kissed him passionately. You drew him closer to you, and he kissed you back, his arms around your waist. You kept pulling him closer to you, your hands started exploring his body, going down from his shoulders, and down and up his arms - he pulled away from the kiss for a moment, and looked you close in the eyes:

“Are you sure?” - he whispered.

You nodded, holding back those tears as hard as you could - and nothing else was needed. He kissed you again, and hugged you so tight that he lifted you from the ground. You threw your arms and your legs around him, and he walked to the nearest bed and gently put you down. He was kissing your neck, while he started unbuttoning your shirt. You unhooked your bra, and threw it on the ground together with your shirt. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts and the way he looked at you melted your heart. You hugged him closer, and he kissed your neck again, and then started slowly going down. His lips were soon on your left nipple, while his fingers caressed and teased the right one.

He slowly moved his kisses onto your stomach, and started pulling your pants down. You lifted your hips to help him, and soon you were left just in your panties. He pulled away from you for a second, and once again looked at you in awe. You saw that he was savouring that moment, and you let him, your body already flushed and hot with the desire for him.

“You are so beautiful” - was everything he managed to say, before his lips were back on your body, kissing your lower stomach and moving further down. He lifted your knees slightly, and spread your legs and then he planted a gentle kiss on your clit through your underwear. You felt the heat gather up in your stomach and slowly started spreading to your whole body. He continued to tease you, as he gently bit your clit feeling it becoming firmer against your panties.

“Echo!" - you moaned, and he pulled your panties down, caressing your thighs.

I want to make you feel good… tell me how this feels." - he whispered, and touched your folds, massaging them, teasing your entrance. You arched your back as he put his thumb gently on your clit.

"Oh, Echo…." - was everything you managed to say, and his tongue was already on your clit, first almost shyly and gently, and then moving with more speed and more pressure. You moved your fingers across his head, trying to grab onto something, and you moaned loudly. Echo’s hand was holding your hips firmly, as his tongue was gently exploring your clit, your folds and then teased your entrance. You were already almost out of breath, you felt your pulse elevate as he buried his tongue deep inside you. You arched your back and dug your nails in his head - you thought that you must have hurt him, but Echo didn’t react in any way - he continued to move his tongue in and out of you, while gently massaging your clit with his thumb.

You couldn’t control yourself any longer and your moans became louder. All you could think of in that moment is feeling Echo inside you, giving him this incredible feeling back, sharing it with him.

“Echo… Echo…” you barely managed to speak.

He lifted his head and looked at you, his mouth and chin completely soaked in your juices.

“Are you okay?” - he almost looked concerned.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself:

“I’m more than okay, my love, this is incredible. But I want to feel you inside me now, I want it so much!” you said in one breath.

Echo smiled, and extended his arm to touch your cheek.

“Anything you want, sweet one. You taste incredible, I could keep doing this for hours...”

You lifted your head and you supported yourself on your elbows.

“Echo…” - you said, and he kept looking at you, his eyes soft. You wanted to tell him how much he meant to you, even though you’ve only known him for such a short time. It felt like you were meant to meet each other, it felt like there was nowhere else to be in this moment, but together.

You sat up and you moved closer to him. Your hands started exploring his amour, but you couldn’t figure it out - where to begin? Which part to take off first - and how?

“Can you help me?” - you said. “How does a girl ever take this thing off a soldier?”

Echo smiled. You felt that he was hesitating for a moment - you knew he wanted you, but you wanted to wipe away any insecurity he might have had.

“Echo…. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone! I want to feel your body, I want to feel your skin on mine - please”

Echo’s closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, you saw a desire you haven’t seen before. His eyes narrowed and darkened, his lips parted slightly, and he took your hand that moments ago was exploring his armour and kissed it. He moved away from you, got up, and stood still for a moment. He then proceeded removing his arm pieces, first a part on his cybernetic arm, and then from his other arm, his chest piece, his kama, and his leg armour. Everything was taking time, and you savoured every moment, until he was left only in his tight black shirt and pants. He stood like that for a moment, looking slightly vulnerable, and you got up and came closer to him. You could see a prominent bulge in his pants, waiting, begging to be released.

“I can take it from here - you whispered in his ear, and he smiled:

“Please do” - he said, his eyes fixed on you.

You let your hand slip to his stomach and further down, and you felt his erection. You gently cupped his cock through his blacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Echo closed his eyes and let a quiet moan. You moved your hand up, and started pulling his pants down. You could feel that Echo’s body slightly stiffened and you guessed it was because you were going to see his legs for the first time. You knelt in front of him, and he looked at you, but you could see that he trusted you, and you smiled. You pulled his pants down and released his hard cock. You touched it and Echo moaned again. You stroked it a few times, and started pulling his pants further down. Reaching his knees and pulling them all the way to the floor, you could for the first time see his cybernetic legs. They started just above both of his knees and they were beautiful and elegant. They made him look tough and unique. You looked up and you caught Echo’s eyes, looking, searching for your reaction. You smiled.

“You’re so beautiful. Even more beautiful then I knew”

As soon as you said that, Echo knelt as well and took your head in his hands. He kissed you passionately, once again, one of those kisses that made you knees weak, and he felt it and he gently laid you down on the floor. His hand once again started exploring your body, first your breasts and then it wandered down to your pussy and his middle finger started teasing your clit again. You moaned into his mouth and he speeded up his movement. He then slipped his finger in your pussy and slightly bent it. You broke from his kiss to moan loudly, as he put his thumb on your clit and added his index finger inside you. He kept doing that for a while and it sent you to the edge once again, when he moved his lips closer to your ear:

“I want to be inside you so bad, sweet one” - he whispered.

Your body was so hot and flushed from Echo’s fingers in your pussy and your clit, and you were already panting, so all you managed to say was:

“Yes, Echo, please!”

As soon as you said that he removed his fingers and positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel his tip against your wet pussy and you impatiently moved your hips closer to him,. Echo smiled, caressed your hips and then entered you, slowly. You could feel him, every inch of him. He was so hard and you could feel his big cock entering you and stretching you and you threw your arms around him and let a loud moan. He kissed your neck repeatedly, and once he was finally in, he stayed that way for a few moments and then he pulled out completely, and slammed into you again, this time faster and harder. The sensation of his incredibly hard cock against your wetness sent you over the edge and you could feel your orgasm building again. You looked at Echo who moments ago was looking deep into your eyes, as he now closed his eyes shut and threw his head back, panting and quietly moaning, and you saw how good this felt for him.

“Baby, yes… Echo” - you kept repeating, and he buried his head back to your neck and started sucking on it, this time more hungrily and desperately. You scratched his back repeatedly, and you were sure that you were going to leave some deep marks there. You were together, finally, united in this incredible moment, you sweaty bodies moving in the same direction, to the same beat, your breathing synchronised, and your orgasms building up. His cock felt amazing, as he was moving inside and out first slowly, just sliding in and out, then moving faster, and then going slowly again. You could see he enjoyed that as well, and all you could do is encourage him to just take you, to do whatever he wanted, to have you whatever way he desired, as everything he did sent you to heaven. There was nothing else in that moment, just his warm body on yours, taste of his lips on yours, on your neck and on your nipples, his hand caressing your body, his sweat mixing with yours, and you didn’t need anything else in this galaxy. You were the happiest girl in the world and with that thought you opened your eyes and found his, the tip of his nose touching yours and you felt your orgasm washing over your entire body, as you lost yourself into his eyes. You hugged him tighter and screamed his name several times. He held you, never breaking the eye contact and he slowed his movements down for a few moments. You panted, out of your breath and he kissed you gently.

"Echo” - you said as you managed to catch your breath.

"Yes, my love” - he whispered.

“I want you to cum inside me” - you said and you looked him deep into his eyes again. He planted his lips on your again, and then moved them on your nipple as he slammed inside you, this time deeper than ever before. You arched your back slightly, and he held you now firmer, his teeth gently teasing your nipple, and his hips moving faster, his thrusts being firmer and harder. You could see by the way his entire body stiffened that he was close, you could feel his cock growing even harder inside you, till he growled, his release sending him to heaven. He was panting as he collapsed on top of you, and you threw your arms around him and you held him. You held him like you did last night in the rain, close and tight, you could feel his muscles relaxing one by one, he felt safe in your arms and you didn’t want to let go. He pulled out slowly, and you could feel his seed slowly leaking out of you. You stayed that way for few minutes, his weight on you, slightly crushing you, but you didn’t mind. You were united, together, intervened in every way and you knew that this moment now, and ever again, would be one of those most precious, rarest, purest of moments.

After a while, Echo peeled himself off of you, making you miss him right away.

He looked you in the eyes for several moments, and you could see in each others' eyes how happy you both were, how happy you made each other. You smiled, and he smiled back. You both knew. There were no words necessary.

Echo kissed you again, this time gently and slowly, and then he moved his lips to your ear:

“I’ll come back, my love! I promise!”

#echo smut #echo my beloved #echo x you #echo tbb #echo x reader #the bad batch echo #the bad batch smut

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nealcassatiel · 4 years

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Supernatural and Russia and the mess of Television Legal Contracts

One of the most important aspects of a television series’ life cycle is its distribution. It is in the stage of distribution when the production companies/studio recoup the largest amount of costs.

By looking at who distributes the show, as well as which companies stand to gain the most from distribution profits, we can gain greater understanding of the various complex agreements and finances at play.

Viewing Statistics in the USA, Russia, and other International Territories

Let’s take a look at where Supernatural is distributed, and it’s popularity in the countries in which it airs.

After the US, in the past 30 days, Supernatural’s next biggest market is in Russia. The next is in Brazil.

This got long - more under the cut (I’ll be talking about cuts shortly)

In Russia, Supernatural has been in the top 0.2% watched shows in Russia (link) . This is also the case in Brazil.

In 2019, a modest survey was done on urban and rural Russians asking them what foreign television they watch. Supernatural was the 6th most mentioned foreign television show (link).

In 2017, Supernatural was three times more popular in Russia than it was in the US (link - this article has just a whole other host of information about it being popular amongst urban and rural US residents, as well as popular amongst both Republics and Democrats, however i haven’t looked further into that data so not going to discuss it much here)

So selling Supernatural to Russia and airing it in Russia is going to bring in a lot of revenue for The C*W and the production companies. That is a lucrative distribution territory and of a huge amount of importance to the network. Russia will air both new episodes, and reruns. Of course, if Supernatural made a queer love story a central premise, then execs are going to get scared that not only will the finale may not be aired in one of their biggest, if not their biggest market: Russia, but that the broadcasters who distribute the show in Russia might also pull the rest of the show and stop broadcasting reruns too. That’s a shit tonne fo distribution profits gone for The C*W, and who knows, maybe their relationship with Russian broadcasters who air their other shows will be on the rocks. After all, trying to sell gay tv to Russians right now is, sadly, never going to happen. This is not an indictment on the Russian viewers, but me saying that the show won’t be sellable to Russian broadcasters if it is too queer.

A huge huge majority of US Supernatural fans are progressive and wanted the more queer focused and found family ending. But the C*W and Warner believes that there are still enough US fans who don’t want something that progressive to be shown. They also know that one of their biggest markets is Russia, and Dean being shown to be bi will not go down well there. I’m just speculating, but The C*W may have looked at those chunks of audience who give them money and decide that they only care about those profits.

The frustrating thing however, is that no matter the power of Russian Supernatural audiences, looking at the other progressive countries and the popularity of Supernatural there - these numbers as a collective outshine those of Russia. So maybe Russia isn’t that important. Or maybe all The C*W needed to think was ‘we don’t want to stop profits from our biggest international viewership’ and so they never even went further and thought about the collective viewership of the audiences from progressive countries. As I said at the start, distribution is where the companies who invested into making a show recoup the most costs. All the money that comes from distribution is incredibly important.

DISTRIBUTION AND CO-PRODUCTION AGREEMENTS

The writers, the crew, the actors, don’t really get the distribution profits. They may get small cuts of things or bonuses here and there, but they’re all essentially employed by the production company. It is the production company and studio who has sunken money into making the show who will get a cut of the distribution profits. So the production companies and co-production companies, the creator (maybe still if they had a good agent when they first sold the pitch), the network are all going to be the ones to care about how much a finale will matter to profits from showing reruns in less progressive countries. Dabb is an employee - he personally will be paid a fixed sum which is given to him by the production company. He does not care if SPN can’t be aired in Russia - that has no personal affect on him. He was paid to showrun the series and he’ll get nothing more even if it becomes the most watched anti-gay homophobic celebrated show in Moscow. He has no financial reason to cater to anyone. He’s just an employee.

But if information like this, the knowledge that for multiple years TPTB have wanted Supernatural to cater to a non-progressive international and national audience for the sake of distribution profits, then the show should have never have taken the narrative to a place whose ending could not be green-lit.

If for the sake of these pofits and other secondary rights, for the sake of appeasing rural/southern USA viewers, and trying to keep an audience for Walker, The C*W derailed the final two episodes, then I still don’t fully understand why the ending was heading towards destiel when all of this distribution finance information has been known for many many years.

It makes sense why such a terrible finale would happen, but it doesn’t make sense why up until episode 18, the entire narrative of the show was leading somewhere completely different? Why were the writers of SPN heading straight towards one thing, if they knew they always knew that they’d have to have a completely different ending?

The Right of Final Cut / Final Cut Privilege

The answer may lie in the fact that The C*W wasn’t really paying that much attention to SPN, they couldn’t really see all the subtext, but suddenly the subtext all was going to become text and they were all twiddling their thumbs and looking for something to do during COVID when the industry shut down, so they suddenly got way more involved.

Let’s quickly clear up who The C*W is and how they relate to SPN as a company. Supernatural lists The C*W as one of it’s distributers, but lists Warner Bros Television as a production company. When SPN started it was made by The WB (which is now The C*W). It’s all under Warner Media anyway, but we can basically say that Warner Bros Television (listed as a co-producer of SPN) is the sam as The C*W who is listed as a distributer of SPN. They’re essentially the same so The C*W is both producing and distributing SPN, as well as owning the format rights to the show - sorry that’s all complicated anyway The C*W are the big dogs who own Supernatural and have done from the beginning back when they were called The WB)

Essentially, The C*W have a co-production and distribution agreement for SPN. The power they have from that first agreement when they bought the show off Kripke is almost certainly still MASSIVE today. They are not only the ultimate distributers, but the ultimate producers with all the agreements and all the rights.

Anyway, back to that first agreement: This was Kripke’s first big deal, and he almost certainly gave Warner Bros/The C*W a whole host of creative control in exchange for them sinking a shit tonne of money into making the show. Which makes me wonder if The C*W has something in entertainment law called “the right of final cut/final cut privilege”. If a studio or distributer has sunken a heck tonne of costs into making the series and are the ones who most need to recoup the distribution costs, then in their contract they may try to give themselves the ‘final cut privilege’ - essentially, this is the final edit. There’s the Director’s Cut, but then after that there is the Final Cut. The Final Cut is what is broadcast. Nowadays, most series and films don’t allow the directors to have final cut privilege anyway - it’s fairly rare from my understanding (one of my hats is a television legal contracts assistant, and all of these contracts still confuse me even though it’s an element of my job - I’m not trained in this outside of work so i apologise if this isn’t clear). The studio or distributer doesn’t even need to clear their final cut with the writer/director/producer. They can just do it. Cut it up and broadcast it, because they’re allowed to in their contract.

So with the finale episode being so short, a mess of montages, Carry on My Wayward Son versions back to back, a narrative mess, the pacing completely off, some scenes way too short and others way too long - this really could insinuate that the stupid clause of ‘the right of final cut’ was utilised by The C*W and without the need to get the permission or allowance of Dabb or even the other production companies, they edited everything they didn’t like out of the finale, citing their contract and the fact that they’re the ones who need to recoup distribution costs, and they don’t want to piss off large swathes of their national and international audience.

In Conclusion

So positives? Well, now that SPN is done and dusted, if there is a spin-off then this shouldn't affect distribution deals in Russia or Brazil. If whoever buys the format rights for Supernatural, allows The C*W to still sell the old series distribution rights, then market the new season of SPN not as a new season but a spin-off, then this will give them more freedom to not cater to the conservative international and national audiences SPN was beholden to due to distribution profits. What I’m saying is - a spin-off could free itself from catering to anyone who isn’t progressive. The old audiences can carry on showing reruns of SPN and completely ignore the new ‘fake’ gay spin-off. They can say that it’s a different production company, a different network - and therefore not the legitimate show. Great. Free SPN.

A new format agreement could also mean that the new producers could ensure that not the distributer, but the director, or the new trusted production company themselves gets the Right of Final Cut. If another agreement is made, please please please take that right away from The C*W/Warner.

The difficulty in getting the SPN rights would be caused by the mess of a Format Agreement to even get those rights... Supernatural is co-produced by Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros. Television, Supernatural Films, and Wonderland Sound and Vision. I’m assuming Kripke Enterprises and Supernatural Films may be under Warner Media (as Warner Bros and The C*W itself is). If Jensen wanted to produce the new spin-off then his new production company is under WB/Warner Media too... so. Disentangling meddling and shitty Warner Media execs from a spin-off would be difficult because they own everyone.

All in all, it’s easy to see now with that mess of a finale that this was caused with whoever has “The Right Of Final Cut/Final Cut Privilege’. And I HIGHLY doubt Singer or Dabb or any mere employee on the show has it. It’s more and more obvious to me that this power lies in the hands of The C*W/Warner and they didn’t even try to loop Dabb or the main cast in when making the final edits. I’m sure the C*W started to get involved at episode 19 and in the development stage of episode 20, but i’m certain they had a hand in the disastrous final cut.

I hope we’re able to pry our beloved show out of the hands of those who don’t care about its narratives, but have more power than anyone to change the show’s narratives. Thanks for coming with me on this essay/me working out this complicated mess. It’s 00:50 and I'm super tired so I hope all this makes sense. Television contracts confuse me and I work with them so i dunno how clear any of this is.

Anyway - I hope it was totally boring.

#spn #supernatural #spn statistics #spn analysis #fuck the cw #fuck the finale #viewer statistics #i dont know if i find contracts interesting or dull #i haven't worked with contracts since covid happened #so i may be kinda rusty on my knowledge #but hope this was of interest nevertheless and sorry for any legal errors #supernatural finale #spn finale #tv industry #industry stuff #final cut privilege

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generallynerdy · 4 years

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Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din.

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right.

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

Text

Interview with the Mandalorian

Pairing: Mandalorian x Female Reader

Rating: T (future parts will be Mature/Explicit)

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of prior violence against the reader (not described in detail)

Summary: The Mandalorian has placed a want ad for childcare and you decide to answer it. Despite having a questionable past, he decides to hire you.

Word Count: ~5400

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter in a multi-part story of Mando and childcare reader. I love romance so expect lots of fluff, but there will also be some humor, action, and angst, and eventually smut. I’m going for more of a slow burn here -- or at least trying to if I don’t get too impatient.

Link to Chpt. 2

Gif by @bestintheparsec (Thank you! You're awesome 😁)

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Wanted: Childcare Professional

Caregiver needed for toddler for all basic baby needs. Single father with demanding job, odd hours. Position requires living on starship. Looking for someone not squeamish and good in a crisis. Preferred skills: cooking, pre-school teaching, and first aid. Bonus skills: combat training or ability to repair pre-Imperial tech. Interviews at Cantina Manolita, ask for the Mandalorian.

You re-read the want ad as you headed out to the cantina. It started out normal enough, not squeamish was a little odd, yet understandable, but then, good in a crisis and combat training as a bonus skill? Exactly what type of toddler does this Mandalorian have? Still, it’s not like you can afford to be picky, what with your past. You’d been bouncing around from odd job to odd job, each one more terrible than the last. Your most recent job had been cleaning rooms at a very seedy no-tell hotel and after that, you’d rather change 1000 poopy diapers than go back there. Despite your education and years of experience, no one wants to hire someone with the stain of the Empire on their resume. Your only hope is that the Mandalorian who placed this ad will be willing to hear you out and with a bit of luck you won’t have too much competition for the job. Many people are wary of Mandalorians, so perhaps that will keep the candidate pool small. You’re secretly intrigued by the idea of working for one, as all you really know is that they are respected warriors who either stick together in tight groups with other Mandalorians or they work alone. You wonder why this Mandalorian is seeking outside help, must be a special circumstance.

Din watches as a woman in a short red cocktail dress, platform heels, and quite a lot of makeup saunters through the cantina. It’s a lot of look for mid-morning and he’s surprised when she heads straight to his table, leans down to give him a generous view of her cleavage, and coos at him, “You must be the Mando who placed the ad.”

“The ad for childcare? Yes.” Din emphasizes the word to be certain she’s answering the correct posting.

“Yep! That’s why I’m here, baby.” She winks at him and plops herself down in his booth, ignoring the chair placed directly across from him. Baby? He’s a bit taken aback, but he figures he should at least ask her some questions about the job.

“Do you have any experience caring for children?” He begins.

“Well, not exactly for children, but I am very, very caring. I’m sure I can take really good care of you… both.” She flutters her eyelashes at Din.

“So, if you don’t have any experience, why are interested in this job?” He feels like this is a fair question, especially since he was hoping to find someone more knowledgeable than he is when it comes to younglings.

“I just have so much love and I want to share it. Especially for someone who needs me, hot stuff.” The woman has been sliding closer to Din as she speaks. He tries to move away from her to keep some space between them, but with the child napping on the end of the booth next to him, he really has nowhere to go.

“Uh, ok, do you have any experience with teaching?” This interview is not off to a good start, but what if she’s the only one who shows up?

“Oh, I’m a real good teacher,” the woman replies, and then drops her hand onto his thigh just above the beskar plate and gives it a squeeze, “I’m sure I could teach you a few things,” she says suggestively.

“We’re done here. I need childcare, not, whatever it is you’re offering.” Din lifts her hand off his leg abruptly, scoops up the child, and quickly moves himself across the cantina to another table. Who shows up to a childcare interview to hit on the father? He’s annoyed at her for wasting his time. He sees the woman pouting and then watches as she gets up with a little stumble, calls out, “Your loss” in his direction and heads to the bar. Under the helmet he rolls his eyes; the next person has to be better than her.

Din has become increasing fatigued and desperate for some help as he takes care of his foundling and searches for information on the Jedi. That alone would be plenty to keep him occupied, but he’s still hunting down bounties too in order to keep them in credits for all the fuel they’re burning up as they traverse the galaxy. Although he’s been able to keep the kid with him all the time so far, it’s not easy to hunt with a baby along for the ride, and he wishes he had someone he could trust to stay with the little one on the ship, keeping him safe and hidden away. After all, they’re still on the run from the ex-Imps and other hunters. Oh, and not to mention, Din is still dodging New Republic officers for that mess on the prison ship. No wonder he’s exhausted.

Sighing lightly, he reminds himself that he’s going to find the help he needs today when he sees a young woman, much more conservatively dressed, giving him furtive glances across the cantina. Din gives her a little nod, and she makes her way over to the table, but she barely takes her eyes off the ground as she does so.

“Are you interested in the childcare job?” Din asks, hopefully.

“Y-yes, I’m h-here to interview.” She seems extremely nervous and can’t seem to bring herself to look at his visor for more than a moment. “I l-like children, um, I have done, um, a lot of b-babysitting.”

“That’s good,” Din says softly, trying to put her at ease, “Can you tell me more about what you did as a babysitter?”

Looking down at the table, she replies shakily, “W-watching them, um oh, I don’t know, uh playing games, making snacks, um just, um, helping, I guess?”

Maker, she’s so uncomfortable, Din wonders what he can say to help her calm down or if it’s worth it to continue the interview. How is she going to handle their situation, if she’s this nervous at the interview? Before he can think of anything to say, the baby pops his head up suddenly to investigate what’s going on, startling the poor woman so badly she jumps up from her chair.

“Aah!” She lets out a little cry and then stammers, “I-I- I think this was a bad idea. I c- can’t do this.” and runs off.

Din sighs; maybe the third time will be the charm, isn’t that what they say?

“Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll find someone.” He says to the child’s inquisitive expression.

Din has the feeling of being watched and turns to see a well-dressed man hovering near the cantina’s entrance. He seems to be in his mid-fifties, with sort-of a schoolteacher aura about him, but he doesn’t look particularly pleased to see Din. The man stares at him for a moment over a pair of owlish spectacles as if assessing the situation and then finally approaches Din’s table.

“I am here to interview for the childcare position, but I want to be very clear that I am an experienced and sought-after professional.” The man declares to Din in a stern voice.

“I’m looking for a childcare professional, please sit down.” At least this one is experienced and looks like he understands the position.

“I must tell you I am a strict believer in order and discipline when it comes to children, and I do not abide any shenanigans.” The way this man speaks makes Din feel like he’s back in school and he’s been caught doing something naughty.

Din clears his throat, “Perhaps you can tell me about your experience.” The man rattles off a list of schools and families where he has worked; stressing certain names as if Din should be impressed, which perhaps he would if he recognized any of them. Din doesn’t care for the fact that this man keeps emphasizing words like prominent or respected as he speaks of his past, it sounds haughty and snobbish. This guy may have a lot of experience, but his frosty demeanor is off-putting. Still, Din can’t deny that he’s the best candidate so far.

“How do you feel about living on a starship?” Din asks him.

“If the ship is in good working order and the facilities are well maintained, I am sure it will be adequate.” He says the last word as if adequate means appalling, indicating that Din’s home is not an ideal living situation. Din feels his optimism dwindle yet again, as this fussy man will likely turn his nose up at the Razor Crest before he even has a look inside.

“What is that?” The man asks brusquely. Din follows his line of sight and realizes the child has climbed up on his chair again wanting to be a part of the conversation. The man’s tone of voice is irritating, but Din restrains himself as he says, “That is the child.”

“That thing is your child?” He has a look of mild disgust on his face. Suddenly this man’s illustrious qualifications don’t matter to Din at all.

“Thank you for coming, but I don’t believe you’re suited for this position.” Din tells the man, trying to match his haughty tone from before. The man lets out a little ‘hmpf’ but then gets up and leaves the table.

“I’m sorry, kid, I know he was bad.” Din sighs again, “We’ll keep trying.” He despairs that he’s in for a full day of bad meetings, when he glances across the cantina to see a beautiful woman looking in his direction. He gives her a nod in greeting, but he’s afraid to hope that she might actually be here for him. However, she smiles warmly at him and starts towards their table. He feels his heart skip a beat; damn, she’s pretty. He watches her as she moves confidently through the crowd noting that she appears courteous to the others around her and Din thinks maybe his luck is turning.

“Good morning! Are you the Mandalorian who placed the want ad for childcare?” You ask with what you hope is a winning smile on your face.

“Ah, yes, I am. Are you here to interview?” Din feels a surge of optimism; you seem composed and he already likes you much better than the other people he’s spoken to today.

“Yes, I hope you haven’t filled the position yet?” you ask him.

“No, not yet. Please sit down.” He gestures to the open chair across from him. “Can you tell me a little about yourself and why you’re interested in the job?”

You start to introduce yourself expressing a keen interest in children and briefly mention your training and experience as a teacher, when you notice two little green hands gripping the edge of the table next to the Mandalorian. Slowly a small green head covered in soft white peach fuzz lifts up to reveal two shining dark eyes and a pair of giant pointy ears.

“Oh my goodness,” you breathe out in delight, “aren’t you the most adorable child in all the galaxy?” You cannot control yourself from fussing over this little one. You really are a pushover for cute kids, but this one is beyond precious. The child smiles at your words and lets out a happy cooing sound. Totally entranced, you make goofy smiley faces back at him causing him to giggle while you completely forget that you are supposed to be doing an interview right now.

Din watches your face as it transforms itself from an expression of polite professional interest to a look of absolute adoration. Your eyes are sparkling as you look at the child, your smile is positively beaming, and you’ve clasped your hands together at your chest in utter delight. It’s like watching someone fall in love all in one instance. He feels that he could ask you to do anything for the child and you would. He reaches over and picks up the little one drawing your attention back to himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just, he’s so cute, um, what was I saying?” You quickly turn your head back to look at the Mandalorian, trying to remind yourself that you’re supposed to be impressing him with your childcare skills not going ga-ga over his son.

“It’s ok, he is cute.” Din responds amiably, this interview is already off to a better start than the others. You seem like a genuine person to him, someone who makes friends easily, who would be pleasant to have around. “You were telling me about your teaching experience.”

“Yes, yes, so my most applicable experience is my time as a pre-school assistant teacher. I worked there when I was earning my degree in Linguistics and Language Teaching at the main university on Riosa. I always loved that job so much and have really wanted to work with children again.” Oops, first mistake, mentioning Riosa is risky, he has to know of the Empire’s former presence there.

“So did you work with many toddlers at the pre-school?”

“Oh yes, so many toddlers. I’m very good at keeping them entertained with games and stories. I know how to set limits and help them learn about rules. Oh, and I also know how to make many snacks and meals that little children love.”

“He does seem to always want to eat, so that would be helpful.” The Mandalorian chuckles a little at that and gives the child a pat on his head.

“I also understand that children can be messy and I’m really good at cleaning and doing laundry too.” You try to think of what else you can say to show that you’re a good option for him. But before you can, he changes the topic.

“So Linguistics? That’s an impressive choice of studies.” He nods his head as if he approves.

“Thank you, I specialized in language structure and syntax. I speak Rodian, Naboo, Sy Bisti, and some Ubese too.” You hope you don’t sound like you’re bragging but none of your recent employers have been interested in your language skills in the slightest. It’s nice to hear that he thinks it’s notable and you do want to impress him if you can.

“Also impressive. All languages of commerce or politics. That’s very practical.” Again, he sounds like he values these skills. “But you don’t have a career in linguistics now? I would think someone with that background wouldn’t be interested in taking care of a toddler.”

“I truly do love children, and well, things don’t always go as you plan, do they?” You were really hoping to answer more questions about childcare or first aid or really anything else, but it looks like you’re going to have to get to the touchy part of the interview. The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything, and you can tell he’s waiting for you to explain.

“When I finished my degree, I was invited to join a prestigious research group. I thought it was an incredible opportunity, a chance to work with professors and other academics. I had to take several difficult qualifying exams before they even offered me the position, and when I did so well on them, everyone I knew was very impressed. I really thought I was going to do something fantastic. I found out too late that the research group was just a front and really it was part of Imperial Intelligence. I had been living in my happy academic bubble, I knew the Empire was on Riosa but they never paid any attention to the university, and I was too naïve to realize I had been recruited to be a code-breaker.”

You pause there, internally cringing again at your stupidity, and wondering if you should continue or if he is going to end the interview right now. While he’s sitting more rigidly than before, he gives no indication that he wants you to stop, so you decide to plow ahead with your story.

“For a while, I tried to be terrible at the job, pretending that I couldn’t break the codes, that they were too complex for me. I hoped they would think they made a mistake and let me leave, but they saw through the ruse. They punished me, and I knew I had to start doing better or they would likely kill me. So I did what I was told, but only about a third of the time. The rest of the time, I would purposely leave out crucial information from the messages I broke. Or sometimes I would just change it completely. I tried to be strategic and do it without a pattern so they wouldn’t catch on to what I was doing. Eventually though one of the other code-breakers figured out my secret and he turned me in.”

You pause again at the memory of that betrayal. You had thought that Kerrick cared for you. You quickly look up to avoid any tears springing to your eyes and take a calming breath.

“What happened next?” The Mandalorian asks you.

“I was punished again, more severely than the first time. I suppose I was fortunate though, because they deemed I was too valuable an asset to terminate. They didn’t send me back to code-breaking. Instead, they forced me to teach Sy Bisti to a class of officers. It’s one of the languages their droids couldn’t translate. I didn’t try to make trouble again. I didn’t think they would give me a third chance.”

Din watches you carefully as you tell him of your experience with the Imperials. The expression on your face and the way your shoulders have slumped tell him that you’re ashamed of what happened to you. That you feel responsible and likely blame yourself for having been tricked by them. Din doesn’t see it that way though. From his perspective, you were simply a young woman who was manipulated and then abused by a corrupt system.

“Can you start today?” You snap your head up in surprise.

“What? I- I mean yes, I can, but-” you stumble over your words, “You- you want to hire me?”

“Yes. The child likes you and you’re the best person for the job.” He’s very straightforward about it.

“You’re sure? Even with the Empire stuff?” Your words sound lame to your own ears, but you need to be certain he won’t hold it against you.

He gives you a brisk nod. “You were brave to try to sabotage their intelligence, but also not too much of a fool to get yourself killed.” He’s blunt but his words are a comfort to you in a way.

That seems to be all he is going to say on the matter, as next he tells you about the living conditions on his ship. He explains carefully about his creed and the fact that you can never see him without his helmet. That isn’t a surprise though as it’s one of the only other facts you already knew about the Mandalorians. Besides, after spending time with so many helmeted Imps, it honestly doesn’t seem that odd to you. At least you’ll know this helmet doesn’t plan to kill you. You arrange to meet him in a couple hours at his ship after you’ve had a chance to pack your things. You’re so elated to find someone who wants to hire you for a decent job and who doesn’t loathe you for your past that you completely forget to ask him about the need for combat training.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you’re packing up your meagre belongings it occurs to you that you didn’t ask him anything about himself or really much about the child at all. You realize you don’t even know their names. Maybe you should slow down and find out more about this Mandalorian and his son, but honestly you’re willing to take the risk. You’re sick of this awful city and the terrible jobs you’ve been forced to take here. At least you know that the Mandalorians were enemies of the Empire, so that’s a bonus in your eyes. Besides from the job description in the ad, it seems like this Mandalorian has to be at work a lot so you’ll probably be alone with the child most of the time. You’ve never seen a species like the child before, but you’re willing to learn all about him so you can be successful at this job. You gather up your bags, leave a few credits for the landlord, and head to the hanger, enthusiastic about a new life.

Din is watching as crates of supplies are loaded onto the Razor Crest, and he thinks about his new hire. From the moment he saw your reaction to the kid, he knew he was going to offer you the job. His only concern is his own attraction to you, and, he has a little nagging guilt that he didn’t explain anything to you about the dangerous aspects of the job. If you knew the Imps were after the child, would you still be willing to take the job? Din knows he’ll have to tell you about that, but maybe he’ll wait until the Crest is in hyperspace before he does. Yeah, it’s underhanded, but he doesn’t have the time or the patience, quite frankly, to try to find other childcare. Plus, there’s a good chance your knowledge of the Empire will be helpful to him. Din hopes you won’t hate him too much for withholding information. He sees you enter the hanger, and once again you smile when you see him. Din’s pleased that you don’t seem intimidated or fearful. So many people look at him with trepidation or dislike, and although he’s learned to ignore it, when someone actually smiles at him, it’s such a pleasant change. Besides, you have a pretty smile.

“Hello again!” You call out to the Mandalorian, as you make your way towards him. Seeing him standing next to his ship, you’re suddenly struck by what an imposing figure he is in all that armor. He’s quite tall and obviously very strong. A whisper of an emotion runs through you, almost like desire, but it’s been so long since you’ve felt anything like that you can’t really place it. You forget all about it though when the little green toddler spies you and immediately runs right for you with a happy face. You drop your bags and crouch down, holding your arms out to him and scoop him up when he reaches you.

“Hello, buddy! Are you excited to have a new nanny? I’m excited to be here.” You tell him cheerfully as you give him a hug. You stand up again to address the Mandalorian, who’s come over to help with your bags. “I’m sorry, I was so happy to get the job earlier, I completely forgot to ask the child’s name.”

“That’s ok.” He tells you. “I don’t, um, I don’t actually know his name.”

“Beg your pardon?” He doesn’t know his son’s name. You try to keep your expression neutral, but you can’t help but give him an odd look.

“He’s a foundling. I rescued him.” The Mandalorian doesn’t elaborate. You remind yourself that you don’t know much about Mandalorian culture, so maybe that is typical for them. He hasn’t told you his name either.

“Well, what do you call him?” You look down at the little one in your arms.

He shrugs as if it isn’t important, “Kid, pal, womp rat,” he supplies, and in anticipation of your next question he says, “You can call me Mando.”

“Alright.” So, no names then, that’s different, but whatever works for him.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around.” Mando offers picking up your bags.

“Oh, you don’t have to carry those, I can get them.” He just gestures with his helmet for you to go ahead, so you head up the ramp into your new home.

The child babbles to you as if explaining things as you look around the hull of the spacecraft. It’s very utilitarian, but you figured it would be, Mandalorians don’t strike you as the types to think of creature comforts as a priority. The little one babbles at you again and extends an arm towards a section of the hull where you can see what looks like a mattress covered with a blanket and pillows that look new and unused. The Mandalorian comes up behind you and says, “Like I said before there’s only one bunk in the ship, but I thought this would work for you?” He sets your bags down next to the bed.

“This will be fine.” You’ve slept in much worse places, your cell in the Imperial Intelligence compound springs to mind. In any case, it’s nice to know that he’s thought to provide this for you. Other employers you’ve had would probably just make you sleep on the floor.

Din takes you on a brief tour of the ship, mostly making sure you know where the essentials are. He keeps waiting for you to make a comment about the ship’s age or make a joke about it being a clunker like everyone else does. But you surprise him, as you simply take it all in with a pleasant expression on your face. Although when he gets to the weapons locker, he sees your eyes widen in surprise. He realizes that he hasn’t told you what he does for a living, “I’m a bounty hunter, and weapons are part of my religion.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it makes sense you’d have a cache like this then.” You give him a nod, as if to say this seems completely normal, even though you’ve never seen so many weapons outside of a military facility. However, if it’s part of his religion the last you thing you want to do is insult him about it.

“Do you know how to shoot?” Mando inquires.

“Yes, I do. I had to take a course on marksmanship at the university.” You wince again at your innocence back then. A college that requires a course on shooting? No wonder it had been a recruitment ground for the Empire.

“Did you pass?” Mando wants to know.

“With high marks,” you reply, ever the top-notch student.

“Good. Do you have a blaster?”

“Uh no.”

Mando turns back to the locker and considers it before choosing one of the smaller guns in there. He hands it to you saying, “Here, this one should be good for you. But let me know if you think something else would be better suited for you.”

“You think I’m going to need a blaster to care for the child?” You try to keep from sounding incredulous as you stare down at the gun that he’s placed in your hand and then back at the sweet toddler who’s currently propped up against your hip.

“No, of course not, but you’ll need to be prepared when we’re off the ship.” He seems very matter-of-fact about it.

“Prepared for what?” Where does this man plan on taking you?

“Just, prepared.” Is all he says in response.

The baby makes grabby hands towards the blaster and you carefully hold it away from him. “Can I keep it in the locker for now?” you ask feeling a little uneasy. You might know how to shoot, but you’ve only ever aimed at targets in a shooting range and the idea of having to use a blaster for protection is frankly terrifying. What have I gotten myself into? Will I never learn?

“Yes, just remember to take it with you whenever you leave the ship.” Din stows the blaster away again and then says, “We should get going now,” and motions for you to head up the ladder to the cockpit. He probably should have waited to give you the blaster until later. He can see the questions and the anxiety in your eyes and he knows he’s going to have to come clean about the danger he’s putting you in. But sticking to his plan, Din says nothing and focuses on taking off and setting coordinates to Dantooine, the last known position of his next quarry.

You try to stay focused on the child in your arms, but you can’t keep yourself from staring back at Mando. The need for a blaster has brought your original question back to the forefront of your mind, and although it’s pretty much too late to ask now, you figure you should.

“So in your ad, you said, combat training was a plus. Why exactly did you put that in there?”

You watch as he puts the ship into hyperspace, before he turns to you. You’re just starting at the black visor in his helmet, waiting for him to speak, when he finally says, “There are Imps after the kid.”

“Excuse me, what?” You hope you heard him wrong.

“I rescued the child from some ex-Imperials. They have a bounty out on him.” Din decides to leave out the part where he originally collected on that bounty, delivering the child right to them. He’s doesn’t want you to despise him so he figures he’ll keep that part of the story to himself.

“What do they want with him?” You’re still holding the little one tight, and you look down into his big, dark eyes and wonder what those terrible people could possible want from this adorable child.

“He has some kind of powers, like uh, like a sorcerer, or something.” He tells you sheepishly.

“Like a sorcerer?” You repeat, o-kay.

“I know it sounds strange. But, have you ever heard of the Jedi?”

“Oh, yes, I know a little about the Jedi. Wait, can the child use the force?”

“You know about the Jedi?” He seems excited to hear that. “What do you know? Do you know any of them?”

“I know the Jedi were once an order of knights and they had the ability to wield the force. Have you ever heard New Republic people say ‘May the force be with you’?” That phrase has been everywhere, so you feel like he must have heard it.

“Yeah, but I really have no idea what they mean by it.” Din feels a little embarrassed to finally admit that to someone. He hopes you don’t think him dumb for not knowing.

“From what I understand the force is like this invisible energy that lets the Jedi manipulate things with their minds. The phrase is meant to give you hope, sort of ‘May the positive energy be with you and bring you good things’. It’s a bit ironic though because for such an optimistic phrase it’s actually how Imperial Intelligence successfully broke several Rebel codes since they put it at the end of so many messages.” As much as your viewpoints aligned with the Rebellion, you had wished someone in their command had been intelligent enough to realize that you shouldn’t put a known saying into your coded messages. You look over to Mando and he gives you a nod in response, so you continue.

“I also know there were some Imperial commanders, very high up, who were pretty obsessed with the Jedi. They were always looking for any information about them. They thought there was a Jedi working with the Rebellion and any messages we decoded about him were supposed to be flagged as extreme priority. But, I never saw anything about him. So, that’s all I know.”

“That’s the most anyone has been able to tell me so far, so it’s very helpful.” Mando replies. He’s silent again for a bit and he seems to be looking down at the child. “It is my task to bring the child to the Jedi, he’s one of their kind. I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain. He- He’s special.”

Looking down at the little toddler in your arms, you remember how the Imperials treated you, and the years of damage, fear, and violence that they rained throughout the galaxy. You can’t possibly let them get their hands on this innocent one. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe,” you tell the child. And then you look at Mando, “I promise.”

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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged for Chapter 2, please let me know. Link to Chpt. 2

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