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crispyjenkins · 4 years

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Omg! Dookus padawan au is fabulous! I love it! Although now im curious about how melida daan would go with a more confident obi and a master whos supportive of him and listens

(i originally planned this to be a dramatic harrowing recounting of obi’s time on Melida/Daan, but it did not turn out like that ಥ_ಥ

thank you for enabling me with this au, anon, i love it so much and i somehow don’t write little-shit-obi nearly as much as i should. i hope this satisfies! ( ˘ ³˘) bonus nield ‘cause he’s dead in dha kar’ta and i got big sad about it)

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"Obi-Wan, did you fuck the Mand'alor."

Obi-Wan grins at Nield from the cell across from him, sitting in half-lotus like any proper Jedi on a routine kidnapping, and Jango sighs in the next cell over.

"You overestimate how much either of us would like that," Obi-Wan chirps, even though they all know that's not really what Nield is asking.

And he makes his feelings about that clear, leveling Obi-Wan with an unimpressed deadpan that Obi-Wan really doesn't think is warranted. "Is this what you thought I meant when I told you to lay low?" he asks gruffly. "Become the youngest Jedi Master in two centuries and shack up with another Anti-Republic System's leader?"

Jango slants a look at him. "What do you mean 'another'?"

"Well, technically, Nield, I never shacked up with you either," Obi-Wan reasons. "And you were only governor for about three days."

"That still counts!"

"De'jate werda, this is about the Young?"

"Language, dear," Obi-Wan chides blandly, and Jango throws his stale roll at him through the bars; it misses him by a foot anyways. "But yes, I'm afraid so. I did tell you the Daan regularly kidnap me for ransom from the Jedi, didn't I?"

Grumbling, Jango flops against the back wall to scowl. "I was under the impression they had stopped after your Cerasi renamed the planet."

"They did," Nield pipes up, poking at his own inedible roll. "Since I'm here, it probably still does have to do with the leaders of Tahl, but why they nabbed your boyfriend is beyond me."

Jango rolls his eyes. "Probably because I was with him when they grabbed him."

"Don't sound so put-upon, we hadn't seen each other in months." Aside from a single holocall before Obi-Wan had gone undercover with a Mid-Rim diplomatic convoy, both he and Jango had been too busy to take the time off for even a quick visit, and they'd had all of twenty minutes together before their kidnappers had broken into Jango's apartment on Coruscant. They had been in the middle of dinner and everything, and Obi-Wan mourns the tiingilar left on their table.

Though, he supposes, he had made it with Rodian chillies instead of Mandalorian ones just to kark with Jango, so Maker knows if it had even been edible.

Snorting, Nield runs his hands through his hair and leans as far over as he can to look down the halls of their cellblock, as if he and Jango hadn't already done that. "I imagine you haven't broken out yet because you're the only one of us in cuffs?"

Obi-Wan helpfully raises his bound hands to show him the new-fangled force-suppressing manacles that have become more popular over the last few years, what with the sudden spike in number of Jedi. "I’ve never seen them before," he offers. "They're not nearly as strong as Ventress' collar, but I'm afraid I'm of no use to you unless we get them off."

Nield sighs. "I said to lay low, Kenobi. You were the one to bag Ventress?"

"I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, my dear: she rather forced my hand."

"No, no, we're not glossing over this again," Jango growls, getting to his feet to lean on his bars so he can glare at the both of them. "Why'd you tell him to lay low? When did you tell him to lay low?"

“I’ve been telling him for years!”

“But especially since the last attempt on Cerasi’s life.”

“Ner ca’tra,” Jango sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Do you have a bounty on you again?”

Nield waves emphatically, as if finally proven right. “‘Again’! What does he mean ‘again’, Obi-Wan?”

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan knows it’s not nearly as bad as they’re both making it out to be. “To my knowledge, no, I don’t think I currently have a bounty out on my head, and Neild, it would only be the second time.” He unfolds himself and pushes upright, stretching his legs before sticking his bound hands through the bars. “Now, if you two would stop nagging, I need you to try shorting out the locking mechanism with your water cups.”

Jango sighs but still moves to grab the single cup of water that had been in the cells when they arrived; Nield stays at his door and scowls. “You’re not sure if it’ll work?”

Obi-Wan raises a brow. “No, I’m actually quite confident it will: Quinlan and I have escaped the Daan twice like this. I just wasn’t sure if your arms would reach.”

“Ha ha,” Jango drawls, sticking his own arms out to try and reach across the narrow walkway between their lines of cells. “Was that before or after you liberated the planet.”

Nield is absolutely no help, groaning and laughing both as he ducks back to get his own water. “I’ve yet to meet this mysterious Quinlan that you assure me is actually real, but it’s been a decade and a half, ‘Nobi.”

He sniffs in offense, stretching out as far as he can for Jango to tip his cup over his wrists. “He’s doing it on purpose. Quinlan Vos is never more amused than when he is making my life more difficult, so I’m afraid he’s been avoiding you, my dear.”

“A likely story,” Nield snorts, and his significantly-longer arms easily allow him to pour his water directly into the locking mechanism. It starts sparking immediately, Obi-Wan jerking to the side to protect his face while Nield yelps and pulls back.

Feeling the Force rush back into his bones like a splash of tihaar, Obi-Wan easily snaps the cuffs down the centre and kicks open his cell door.

Obi-Wan wasn't even supposed to be here, but when he's on his way back from Ilum to finally build a second lightsaber so he can move up from the jar’kai practice ’sabers Master Windu has him using, the Force sidelines him by forcing the Crucible into an emergency landing for the first time since Huyang's creation. A problem with the hyperdrive or something, nothing crucial to replace, something easily fixed once planetside, but just bad enough that they have to land on the nearest planet to fix it.

Where Qui-Gon Jinn just so happens to be already on a mission attempting to rescue another Jedi master. Where there are actual children fighting for control of the capital city.

It takes Obi-Wan less than an hour to find Jinn and the Young, and perhaps an hour more to decide he would be sending Masters Tahl and Jinn back to the Temple without him. Master Yan would understand, it would hardly be the first time he had taken advantage of his master’s absence to do what the Force was telling him to.

He is there a month before Master Yan returns with four Jedi Masters and their padawans, and permission from the Senate to aid the Young until a treaty could be reached. Obi-Wan is frankly too intimidated by his master securing the warrant nobody had managed to in seventy-five years to ask just how he’d done it; and Master Yan doesn’t scold him except to tell him in no uncertain terms that he is never to trust Qui-Gon Jinn’s judgement on anything to do with children.

Luckily his following lecture about the faults of jar’kai and the importance of proper dueling technique is cut off by an ambush from the Melida, and he never gets back around to it even after the Young retake the planet. Obi-Wan is still unsure whether he prefers the three days of sexual education he gets instead, when Cerasi admits she had caught Nield and Obi-Wan kissing in the hall after her election.

Yan meets them outside, not looking very surprised to see them simply walking from the brig that had been their home for the last eight hours. Their human kidnappers are cuffed and being processed by a pair of Judiciary Branch clerks Yan had evidently brought with him, which would rather explain why there had been no one to hinder their escape.

Raising a brow, a million questions in the simple gesture, Yan holds out Obi-Wan’s cloak, waiting for him to put it on before giving him his ’sabers as well. “I fear I must apologise, your honor,” he rumbles like the words simultaneously amuse him and burn his mouth. “My former apprentice still has not learned how to keep others safe from his continued imbroglios.”

Jango snorts, accepting one of Obi-Wan’s ’sabers to hold until he can get his blasters back; Nield’s eyes almost bug out of his head. “Do we know what they were after?”

Yan’s lips curl almost-mockingly. “A trade agreement, I believe. President Cerasi and the Delegates of Tahl had already turned them away, so they thought to strong-arm the Melidaan system instead.”

“So you weren’t even a political prisoner,” Obi-Wan teases a Nield already burying his face in his hands, “just a familial hostage, my dear.”

“Shut him up before I do,” Nield tells Jango.

Who simply smirks and holds up his hands. “You overestimate how much control I have over anything he does.”

“Maker, he really does have you wrapped around his finger.”

“To be fair, I’ve known Jango far more intimately.”

“I’m leaving,” Nield announces, spinning on heel to stalk towards the rescue cruiser from Tahl despite knowing Obi-Wan simply means he’s never had visions of Nield, even as far back as the Civil War.

Jango leans over and surreptitiously whispers, "Was Nield the bad wall-makeout?"

"Maker, he was horrible, my dear."

Mando’a: Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. "De'jate werda" — "By the Great Darkness", slang from Concord Dawn, used as an expletive similar to "Christ!" or "Good lord." tiingilar — Mandalorian casserole specified to be “blisteringly spicy” ner ca'tra — “my night sky”, intimate term of endearment tihaar — Mandalorian strong clear spirit made from fruit

*also obi is a master earlier ‘cause of his clairvoyance, since i’m subscribing to the “you become a master jedi when you master a part of yourself” version of the master trials in this. anyways.*

#crispy writes #prompt fill #melida/daan au #dooku's padawan au #soft and gay all around #little shit obi is everything and i don't write him enough #prequel trilogy #au #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #nield of the young #cerasi of the young #cerasi renamed the planet tahl (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)#and the system to melidaan #cerasi is alive and president and WILL send the entire jedi order to rescue her idiot brothers #yan dooku #i... keep forgetting how to tag my own work

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hearts-hunger · 3 years

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ciryc ca'tra (cold night sky): chapter three || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: You panic when the baby goes missing, only to find him trying to help his daddy fix the ship. You panic when the frog lady goes missing, only to find her trying to warm her eggs. You panic when there’s suddenly spiders all over the place. You’re really not having a good time on this frozen planet.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Maybe old fashioned ideas about marriage? Idk, I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to tag!

A/N: I’ve been writing this fic nonstop for the past few days and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m thoroughly enjoying it, and I hope you are too! Also, I think it’s actually very sexy of me to post each chapter less than 24 hours apart. Enjoy! ♡

You couldn’t get back to sleep.

You tried - your whole body ached with exhaustion, and you knew you should rest - but you were too rattled by the scare with the droid and too worried about Din out in the cold. You tried to find something more productive to do than fret, but the baby had slept through everything, and there was very little to do when you weren’t chasing him around the ship. You’d already organized and cleaned everything you could; there really was nothing to do but wait.

For the sake of your sanity - and Din’s, as you knew an anxious wife was absolutely the last thing he needed right now - you decided on a shower. The refresher was outfitted with a regular shower as well as a sonic; you’d be using the latter, considering the fact that there was no heat on the Crest at the moment. Neatly folding Din’s spare cloak and putting the rest of your clothes in the laundry basket in the refresher, you stepped into the sonic and let the thing work its magic.

The state of the refresher when you’d first come aboard the Crest was... abysmal, to put it honestly. It told you all you needed to know about the Mandalorian bounty hunter you’d met when he arrived in your small town deep in the hills of Naboo: he was used to being alone, and very unfamiliar with a woman’s company. When you started working for him and living on the ship - he’d needed your help finding a man who used to live in your town - you’d asked if there was any way to at least have a door on the blasted thing. He readily complied, and with the help of a few of the handyman types in your community, the Crest’s refresher was sorted out in no time, and more elaborately than you’d hoped for.

The sonic was made to be used with or without water, and warm lights adorned the new mirror above the sink. Best of all, there was a sliding door - much like the one on the bunk, which had been expanded slightly in all the renovation. Until you were married - only a short while after you came to work for him, as you’d both fallen head over heels in a matter of weeks - Din had slept on the reclining passenger seat in the cockpit. You’d always considered that likely miserable sleeping arrangement and the new refresher his very first love-gifts to you, and you knew you would always cherish his selflessness and generosity.

Clean and a little less wired after the sonic, you quickly put on new clothes and wrapped yourself back in Din’s cloak. You went to check on the baby, sure he was still sleeping; to your dismay and instant panic, your little foundling was nowhere to be found among the blankets you’d nestled him in earlier.

“Ad’ika!” you called, searching through the ship like Din had earlier. Your little one was an escape artist, that much you’d known from the very beginning. Usually it was of little consequence - there were only so many places he could go on the ship, and you or Din found him contentedly playing with his silver ball or some other toy he’d fashioned. But here, with the temperature dropping and the wreckage everywhere and only the tarp between the ship and the icy world outside - you had to find him.

Your panic grew to a fever pitch as you searched the ship high and low, calling for him with an increasingly desperate tone. Finally, positive he wasn’t anywhere on the Crest, you ventured outside; snowdrifts piled across the rocky ground, and the air was bitterly cold. Heedless of your own safety, you searched around the wreckage of the ship, calling for him as you felt the sting of tears.

“Cyar’ika!”

You heard Din’s voice calling you from the other side of the ship, and you made your way to him as quickly as you could. Surely Din would know where your baby was, and if he didn’t, he would know where to look. As you rounded the corner, you almost couldn’t make him out as tears blurred your vision. You tried to collect yourself before you told him - what, that you’d lost your son? That you’d had one job and couldn’t even keep your toddler safe?

Your distress must have shown on your face, because Din reached a consoling hand out to you and met you halfway as you walked through the snow towards him. You prepared to tell him, to beg for his forgiveness and help -

Then, wrapped in the corner of Din’s cloak and nestled snugly in the crook of his arm, your baby peeked out at you and gave a babble of greeting.

“Oh, Maker,” you gasped, the words coming out like a sob. You reached out for him and Din gave him to you; you held him tight as tears streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you said, shoulders shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. You felt Din’s hand on your back, drawing you close against him; you let him hold you, the baby pressed safely between you.

“It’s ok, cyare,” Din soothed, running his hand up and down your back.

You gave a hitching breath. “It’s not ok, Din,” you insisted. “I thought he was - ”

You couldn’t make yourself say it, and felt a flash of anger at your husband that you knew was misdirected, but you didn’t know what to do with the guilt and fear that still ran through you.

“You knew where he was this whole time?” you snapped, looking up at his visor. Your tears were cold on your cheeks, and you angrily brushed them away. “How long was he out here with you, while I was worried sick looking for him?”

Din held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. “No, I didn’t know he was out here,” he said, determinedly calm and patient. “I only just found him, and I’d just finished getting onto him when I heard you calling for him. I was coming to take him to you, cyare.”

You knew he was telling you the truth - he’d never do something like that to you. You didn’t know what to say, ashamed that you’d accused him of letting you worry needlessly when he’d actually been doing all he could to prevent that.

“S-sorry,” you managed brokenly. You could see your vague reflection in the planes of his helmet, tearful and small and overrun with emotion.

He sighed and drew you close to him again. “I know,” he said gently. “You don’t have to apologize. I know that scared you.”

You shook your head as you leaned against his chest. “He was asleep,” you tried to explain. “I closed the door on the bunk and I just went to take a shower - I didn’t mean to - ”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “He knew better than to wander off like that, especially outside.”

Din looked down at the small bundle in your arms, wrapped now in the cloak you wore.

“It was very naughty to make your mama worry like that,” Din said firmly, raising a finger for emphasis. “Don’t do that again.”

The baby gave a babble that sounded somewhat affirmative and apologetic, looking up at you with those big eyes for good measure. You were so relieved that he was alright that you couldn’t stay upset with him; you covered his ears with your cloak and held him close.

“You ought to get back inside, cyar’ika,” Din said. “Try and get warmed up.”

You looked up at him, intending to say that he should come in as well, and felt a wave of guilt that you’d only just realized how his beskar was completely frosted over. The usually shiny metal was dull and white, and you knew he had to be freezing.

“Oh, Din,” you said, reached a hand up to touch the icy side of his helmet. He took your hand in a gentle grip before you could, saving you from touching the cold metal and warming your fingers with his touch.

“Please come inside,” you said, already trying to think of ways to warm him up without any heat on the ship. “You must be freezing.”

“I’m alright,” he soothed, though you knew he was probably more uncomfortable than he let on. “I need to keep working on the repairs. You and the baby shouldn’t be out in this.”

“Neither should you,” you said. “You’re - I mean, you’re covered in frost.”

He nodded. “Beskar clouds pretty quickly in the cold. It’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, realizing you weren’t going to get anywhere with him, but you weren’t annoyed. Since the frog lady had urged him to begin repairs sooner, he’d been single-mindedly working on the major parts of the ship that were damaged; he was going to work until he couldn’t feel his fingers any more, and then probably a little bit longer before he came inside. You admired his determination and hard work as much as you worried for him, and you wouldn't have had him any other way.

You were hesitant to leave him, but knew you should get the baby inside.

“At least kiss me before I go,” you said, knowing it was a lot to ask. “That way I can see for myself if you’re turning into an ice block under that helmet.”

He chuckled and lifted the bottom of his helmet just enough to oblige you, giving you a gentle, chaste kiss.

“There,” he said, once his helmet had been replaced. “Warm enough for you?”

You hummed in agreement. “For now.” You lightly tapped your boot against his. “Don’t stay out too long, my love.”

He shook his head. “Ne baatir, cyare.” He’d said that to you enough times over the years that you didn’t have to ask what it meant: don’t worry, beloved.

You gave him one last smile before heading back around the ship, bundling the baby close against the temperature that had started to drop steadily as the sun went down. Minding your steps lest you stumble over a snow-covered rock or bit of debris, you noticed something odd; it looked like there were another set of footprints in the snow, bigger than either yours or Din’s. You stopped and followed them with your gaze, trying not to let fear get the better of you; they led away from the ship towards the jagged side of the cavern, around a corner that seemed to lead into a different cave.

The baby started to babble excitedly, his little clawed hand pointing in the direction of the cave. Goodness, had he followed something out here? Come to think of it, where was your passenger?

You looked back over your shoulder and saw your husband diligently working on a smoking part near the back of the ship.

“Din!” you called. You tried to make your voice carry without any indication of panic, but he looked up and zeroed in on you all the same.

He cocked his head in question, as you weren’t in any obvious danger, and you waved him over. He set his tools aside and started towards you, and you hoped you hadn’t annoyed him by interrupting his work.

“What is it?” he asked, not unkindly, and you knew he hadn’t minded coming over. You gestured to the footprints.

“Do you think it’s the frog lady?” you asked.

He studied the path of the footprints, most likely through his HUD, and sighed.

“She’s not in the ship?” he asked.

“No,” you answered. Recalling your frantic search for the baby, you realized that you hadn’t seen her anywhere. “Why would she leave?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I need to go find her. There’s no telling what’s in those caves.”

You suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Should we go with you?”

He considered that, looking over you and the baby for a moment. “I guess. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, but - do you think you’ll be warm enough?”

You drew his cloak closer around you and your baby. “I think so. I’d feel better going with you.”

He put a hand on your back as you followed the path of the footprints, his touch steadying and safe. “Just stick close to me, cyare. Don’t wander.”

“Din,” you said, affectionate and a little exasperated. You’d been married to a bounty hunter long enough to know that right by his side was the safest place to be. “When have you ever known me to wander?”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. You’re very good about it.” He looked around as you walked through the mouth of the cave, and you knew he was making himself aware of every possible danger.

“I don’t have any idea what to look out for,” he said honestly. You could tell how much he hated not knowing what you were up against, not being as prepared to protect you as he would have liked.

You had never made a habit of questioning his authority - he knew much better than you how to keep you safe, and if he gave you an order in a dangerous situation, you complied. It was the least you could do, considering how often he was called on to protect his wife and child. With your marriage vows, Din had sworn to kar'taylir bal cabuor, to hold you in his heart and to protect you; you had vowed your love and trust in return.

You reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I trust you, Din,” you said simply.

He nodded. “I know, cyare. Thank you.”

You stayed close to your husband's side as the cave darkened and threaded through the columns of ice that loomed on every side; it was eerily quiet except for the sound of your footsteps through the snow. Din scanned the area constantly through his HUD; you trusted him to lead you, as you couldn’t make out the footprints in the dim light. He paused for a moment at a fork in the path.

“There’s a heat signature through there,” he said, nodding to the leftmost path. You held onto the edge of his cloak, hoping to settle both of you a little, and followed as he cautiously made his way down the path.

After a bit of a tricky slope that Din offered his hand to help you over, the path opened up into a cavern that was noticeably warmer than the rest of the cave had been. Steam rose from a wide, shallow pool in the middle of the space that you guessed came from a hot spring. The frog lady was swimming in the pool, her eggs spread out around her like little jewels on the water’s surface.

“There you are,” Din said, his voice echoing around the cavern as he walked over to her. He sounded understandably frustrated; you watched as he got a sense of his surroundings and assessed any threats, undoubtedly coming to the conclusion more quickly than you had that it was too big of a space with too many shadowed corners for him to be at any sort of defensive advantage if the need arose.

“You can’t leave the ship,” he told her, rounding the pool to the side where the egg chamber sat full of liquid but without any of the eggs. “It’s not safe out here.”

You followed and knelt with him beside the pool, putting the baby between you.

“Let’s gather these up,” Din said, gesturing to the eggs bobbing in the warm water. The frog lady croaked in dismay as she cradled a few.

“I know it’s warm,” Din said, a gentle sympathy coloring his voice. He scooped up a handful of the eggs, paying no mind to wetting his gloves, and put them back in the chamber. “But night’s coming fast, and I can’t protect you out here.”

You helped take the eggs out of the water, careful of their seemingly thin protective skin; the water was delightfully warm, and you couldn’t help a fleeting wish to be swimming in it too. You handed the eggs to Din to put back into the chamber.

In your periphery, you saw your baby’s little hand inching towards an egg floating close to the edge of the pool; you and Din both noticed it at the same time, and both of you held an admonishing finger between your son and the tempting egg.

“No,” you said at the same time, in the tone you reserved for scolding. The baby looked from you to Din with a pleading expression, but Din wasn’t fazed.

“No,” he repeated firmly. He went back to gathering the eggs as the baby gave a squeak of protest, and you made a mental note to find your son something to eat when you got back to the ship.

The eggs were more slippery than you’d expected, and rounding them up took all three of you working together. You knew Din was trying to be careful and quick at the same time; being away from the ship made him wary, and there were a lot of you to protect in such a large space. You helped as best you could, holding out handfuls of eggs for him to put back into the chamber and quickly going back to gather more.

From behind you, you heard the distinctive, fearful cry of your baby; you whirled around, looking everywhere for him, and found him running over from between rows of little white eggs that seemed to be twisting in a sickly, grotesque sort of way.

You felt an icy wash of uncanny terror and needlessly called your husband’s name, abandoning the pool to rush over to your son and pick him up. You saw with a sudden wave of nauseated horror that things were coming from the eggs, chittering things with long, spindly legs. You stumbled backwards and would have lost your footing if Din hadn’t caught you, immediately pulling you back towards the pool.

You couldn't have spurred yourself to move, so horrifically entranced were you by the loathsome creatures as they swarmed over the far side of the cavern floor, but you wondered why your husband didn’t seem any more inclined to action. You felt a little faint.

“Din,” you said uncertainly. You vaguely wondered how often you called your husband’s name like a plea for help, and if it ever wore on him.

“Right here,” he said, and it sounded so unlike him, so dreamy and faint, that it snapped you back to awareness like a slap in the face.

“Din,” you said again, more firmly. You turned and looked at him; he was watching the spider-like creatures start to climb the walls, his posture slack. That alone scared you badly enough to smack a hand against his chestplate in panic.

“Din!” you said again, sharp and loud. The spiders were inching closer, their chittering growing louder with each passing second -

Your hand on his chest and the sound of your voice seemed to snap him out of it, and his whole body tensed up immediately.

“Kriff,” he bit out, anger and panic tightening his voice even through the vocoder. He shut the canister of eggs and slung it onto his shoulder, taking your upper arm in a firm grip with his free hand.

“Go,” he ordered, and you couldn’t have disobeyed him if you wanted to. He released you and you started to run towards the cave entrance you’d come through earlier, your baby pressed close to your chest -

You only made it a few feet from the pool when a terrible roar shook the cavern, stopping you dead in your tracks. A giant, eldritch spider was crawling from behind the outcropping at the far side of the cavern, and it was all you could do to hold onto consciousness as you saw it take another step towards you.

Read chapter four!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven, @sarahjkl82-blog, @remmysbounty ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

#reader is so stressed in this one...... and girl she is only gonna get more stressed #nice #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian chapter 10 #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #chapter 10: the passenger #ciryc ca'tra #flashing gif tw

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jessiebanethedragon · 4 years

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Grecian Juniper (Hunter x reader)

this was a request that came in as a message, not tagged becasue i’m not sure if they wanna be annon or not but love ya’ll either way!

oxoxox jessie

You had to admit, this time you’d out done yourself. Swinging your lightsaber around as it deactivates leaving the feeling of bubbling pride in your chest. Was this technically an abuse of your abilities? Maybe. But Crosshair has been an ass since you last left base, and it was time for a little payback. Thus bringing you to this moment of a perfectly sculpted “I ❤️Hutts” onto the backplate of his armour. Yes, your lightsaber had many uses indeed.

Working with Clone Force 99 did have its perks, Tech, Wrecker and Echo were lovely. Reuniting with the trooper after the techno union was a flurry of tears, happiness and a vow from you to never leave your best friend's side again. And then there was the sergeant. With his tousled hair, tattooed face, and a voice that had you buckling at the knees every time he said your name. Hunter made being a jedi very difficult.

“He’s gonna be pissed.” The man in question said, walking past your work of art as he re-ties the red bandana.

“He was such a nerf herder all flight.” You say with a sigh, still exhausted from having to put up with a very moody Crosshair. Your cheeks flush when you hear Hunter chuckle in agreement.

“Maybe so, but you know he’s going to be one hundred times worse now.” Hunter calls to you over his shoulder as he wanders into the cockpit and away from your shenanigans. Leaving you to force down the warm fuzzies in your chest and hide the childish smile on your face.

“Kriffing Jedi!!” Your face falls when you hear the shouting from inside the Havoc Marauder. The four of you are standing plantside on Kashyyyk for a recon mission, waiting for the sniper outside in the fresh air. Tech narrows his eyes at you while you suppress a small giggle.

“I have no idea what he is talking about.” You say, hoping to cover your tracks.

“Sure, as if you’re the order's golden child.” Echo scoffs with a smile, he may look different still, colour slowly returning to his face and hair that's now lighter, but the smile is still his. Telltale domino squad smirks and laughter that take you back to the barracks late at night.

“SARGE!” You hear Crosshair shout as he stops down the landing pad, armour in one hand and a furious look on his face. Hunter sidesteps the angry sniper as he beelines for you, shoving the plate into your face. Wrecker catches a glimpse and doubles over in laughter, tech and Echo lean on each other to giggle off to the side.

“Oh woah, looks like it got scratched…” You say, dramatically pretending to be shocked. Murmuring about how it could've happened and looking over to any of your friends for help.

“You’re going to regret this.” Crosshair seethes out through his heaving breath.

“I didn’t do anything!” you exclaim, still playing dumb. “I was with Hunter!” You gesture to the sergeant hoping he will cover for you. He turns away not wanting to be involved, but you catch the smallest of smiles.

“Oh you wish.” Crosshair spits, side eyeing the leader of the Bad Batch. All at once, you stop smiling.

“And what's that supposed to mean.” You grit out. He wouldn't. Crosshair wouldn't. Of course the sniper knows about your feelings, he’s too damn clever, but even he knows there's lines. And this is definitely one of them.

“Maybe if you weren't so hopelessly in love with him you wouldn't be such a bitc-”

“Crosshair!” Hunter shouts, louder and angrier than you’ve ever heard him, “Stand. Down.” with one last look at your shocked face, tears beginning to form in your eyes, his face softens. He knows he’s gone too far, unknowing of how deep the feelings really went.

“Ca'tra…” He begins an apology, the use of the nickname, your nickname of the brilliant night sky, shakes you out of your trance. And without another thought, you take off into the dense forest.

You run until the panting breaths are because of physical exertion and not a panic attack. You decide that it's unlikely Hunter will report you,so your rank as a Jedi won't be ruined. Explaining the sudden need for a transfer will be harder to pull off.

And then there's Echo. you promised not to leave him, ergo you have to stay with the Bad Batch. You’re so unbelievably screwed it’s almost funny. The air is almost still in this part of the forest, trees packed next to one another. Green melting into green as leaves interconnect and block out the sun.

Let go of your feelings.

Logic of your Jedi master rings in your ears, but the anxiety seems to be louder today. Just thinking about going back to the ship brings tears to your eyes. But it is inevitable, so perhaps you’ll swallow the rising bile, grit your teeth and just deal with it.

“Ca’tra!” Echo’s call resonates through the forest, he must have been the one to take off after you, your heart falls knowing it’s not Hunter. Then again, you never held out much hope for requited feelings anyways.

“Ca’tra!” That's Tech’s voice, great now you’ve got two commandos trying to track you down. And considering you’re not ready to face anyone yet, you turn on your heel to take off again. Coming face to face with the blunt grey plastoid of the sergeants armour. You jump back with a soft gasp.

“Senses need re-tuning?” Hunter asks with a raised eyebrow, you're rarely caught off guard. You open your mouth but the vocal cords don’t seem to co-operate, so instead you’re left to stand and gape. Eyes flickering to him for the smallest of moments before finding comfort looking at his boots rather than his face.

“You know he’s a shit.” Hunter says, filling the silence with small talk. expecting some smart reply and a smile from you. Instead You shift your weight from foot to foot and pick at the dirt on your clothing. You hear him clear his throat with a cough, but you still don’t look at him, transfixed by the ground, picking at the dirt on your hands now. Maybe a little too aggressively as his hand comes to pull it away from your reddening skin.

“You’ll hurt yourself.” He states, flipping your smaller, softer hands around, looking for other irritated areas. Thumbing each one over gently with a huff of disapproval before his switches to your other hand. Giving it the same treatment.

“Need to take better care of yourself.” He murmurs as he finds a particular bad spot. Watching as you move your head to stare and a new patch of ground off to the side.

“ ‘Kay you’re starting to scare me Ca’tra, say something.” Your heart hops a little at the sound of genuine worry in his voice.

“Sorry.” You whisper, it’s the easiest thing to say.

“You don’t need to be.” Hunter’s deep voice hums, as his hand makes it way to your elbow, coaxing you out of the hunched position you didn't even realize you’d gone into.

“Doesn't matter.” you sigh, looking up at the sky letting the tears fall back into your eyes.

“It does to me.” He tells you firmly. Rough but warm fingers pull your face to meet his, so you squish your eyes closed. Funny how the instincts take over - if you can't see it, it’s not there.

“Don’t like seeing you upset.” Hunter moves his hand, sensing he overstepped. The other refuses to move from your elbow though.

“Sorry.” you whisper again, letting out a shaky breath unsure if his presence is helping or making it all worse.

“I care about you.” He admits slowly, not to you specifically, but to the greenery around the two of you, like he’s not really talking to you at all, but you’re still able to hear him.

“It’s not the same.” You say quickly, trying to escape the conversation that’s about to happen. You know the difference between caring about someone and loving them, and the last thing you want is for him to tell you that.

“Yes it is.” He says it so quickly, you think he didn’t even mean to say it out loud. Hunter’s dark hair is falling around the bandana as he looks at you, backpack forgotten in his rush to find you, senses as ignored as they can be. Gently touching your foreheads together, he repeats himself. “Yes. it is.” the smallest panicked noise escapes you as you breathe, closing your eyes as his other hand comes to grasp your neck softly. While the one on your elbow sneaks it’s way to your waist. As gentle as possible.

He’s giving you a chance to run. Your brain realizes with shock. Hunter is giving you a chance to turn and bolt again. Exposing himself in the only way he knows how, eyes closed, gentle touches, and the opportunity to pull away from hands that have never known love.

Except this time, you don't want to run.

The sigh of relief that leaves him when you wrap your arms around his neck is monumental. And immediately his hold tightens, crushing you into the armour in a desperate attempt to feel your warmth through the cold metal. One hand grips your tunic with all his strength and the other buries itself in your hair.

You press your face into the gap where tan skin disappears under the top of his blacks. Feeling the prickles where scruff is growing in, and if you try hard enough, maybe you feel where his tattoo starts.

“What are we going to do?” You cry into his shoulder, this isn't allowed. The two of you are breaking every rule imaginable. Jedi attachment, Clone attachment, internal fraternization, breaking orders, disobeying line of command, and probably about a million more.

“It’s okay ner cayre.” He says stealing the anxiety driven breaths with a kiss sweeter than spice.

“I've got you.”

#the clone wars #clones #clone wars #clone wars x reader #clone wars x you #the clone wars x reader #clone wars x y/n #clone wars x #clone x reader #clone x jedi #the clones x reader #clones x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch x reader #star wars: the bad batch #bad batch x reader platonic

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mando-ohmando-iloveyou · 4 years

Text

My Wish

So I decided to start off my Mandalorian fanfiction writing career by entering the Mando'a Writing Challenge from @thegildedquill!! My word is vercopaanir, I hope everyone enjoys!!!

I'm also going to add a keep reading once I figure out how!

~~~~~

(listen while you read if you'd like!)

I hadn't been with the Mandalorian long, but I already knew he was important to me. Him and The Child both, had become the family I never had, the family I always longed for. Despite this though, I wanted more with the Mandalorian. I knew I could never see his face, or feel his returned feelings, but I still hoped one day he could come to love me as I loved him.

"I just put The Child to bed. He was so tired," I murmured to Mando, who grunted in response before turning to me. He looked at me in silence for a long while until I felt uncomfortable and spoke again. "what is it?"

"Nothing, just...thank you. For watching after him. He seems to take to you well." I smiled at that, glancing to where the baby rested before looking back to Mando.

"No need to thank me, I really like watching him. And being here. Really, I should be thanking you for giving me this chance. For giving me...all of this," I gestured around the cockpit and between the two of us. The tilt of his beskar helmet gave me insight to what he was about to say.

"What do you mean? I have given you nothing." I sighed happily and replied.

"You've given me everything," I gazed wistfully out the glass to watch the stars and continued speaking. "When I was a child, my one wish was for a family and somewhere to belong. I wanted to know love and safety, and I have that now." I brought my eyes back to him. "I have that because of you." I heard his sharp intake of air and blushed, realizing what I'd said.

"Ah, s-sorry. I said too much. Just forget abo-"

"Vercopaanir." His voice was but a whisper and I stopped.

"W-what?" He leaned forward.

"In my language, there is a word. Vercopaanir. It means to wish, or to hope." I smiled, always happy to learn of his culture and life. "I too...have a vercopaanir, though mine is not nearly as old. Mine came to be not long ago." Intrigued, I grabbed his hand, urging him to continue. "Though...mine is far more out of reach than yours." He finished and I snorted a little.

"That wasn't my only wish, Mando. I have one other, one far out of my reach." He went so still I decided to just rush and get it over with. "My other wish is to be with you. I love you, but I know you don't love me. I understand though, after all how could you love me? I'm just a strange girl you took in to help care for The Child." I would've continued, but in that moment he closed the gap between us and touched his covered forehead to my bare one. It was the most gentle touch I had ever felt, and his voice when he spoke was smooth and soothing.

"Cyar'ika, ner ca'tra, I feel the same." I felt my heart skip and my chest grow warm as he took my other hand and brought them both up to his helmet. He placed them where his cheeks would be, and held them there tenderly. I felt my eyes burn with tears of joy and when a few fell the man before me chuckled.

The noise was watery and that only made me smile wider when I realized he was as emotional as I was. I took a shaky breath and spoke again. "Do you mean it?" He nodded without hesitation, making me nod as well as our foreheads were still touching.

"Of course. I've never meant anything more. I was scared...scared you wouldn't feel the same so I kept quiet, but I've felt this for so long." He confessed and I laughed louder, unable to hold back and as fast as I could I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him to me as tightly as I could. After a moment of hesitation he returned the embrace and spoke more. "I'm sorry I never said anything. I didn't know if I could handle it. I know I keep so much to myself but when it comes to how I feel about you, I promise to never hold back. I love you, cyar'ika. Truly."

And when we pulled away and he touched our foreheads together again, as softly and carefully as he could, I knew he meant it.

"I love you too, Mando, just as much." And I could tell he knew I meant it as well.

~~~

I hope everyone enjoyed! I'm very nervous but this was super fun to write!!!

Vercopaanir - to wish, to hope

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Ner ca'tra - My night sky

- 10/31/2020 (posted)

{Unedited}

#the mandalorian #x reader #romance #fluff #cute #female reader #mando x reader

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tattersofthequeen · 3 years

Text

Buried Treasure: A Love Story

Inspired by the true, hilarious, story of Pharaoh Tutankhamen. I kind of ran out of steam near the end but WHATEVER I’M TIRED OF LOOKING AT IT.

-----

Alisdair Massom wanted to go home.

The wind whined through the trees bordering the oasis. It smelled of baked stone and desiccated plant matter. The desert wasn't all one kind of landscape, instead ranging from stony hills to pure sand. The ground wasn't as pleasant to sit in as one might suppose: since this wasn't dune country, it was hard as rock beneath a layer of sand, dust, and pebbles.

He scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve, trying to stifle another racking sneeze, and only succeeded in smearing more grime across his face. Everything out here was dusty, from the tents to the people, unless it was flooded. His neck itched abominably where it met the collar of his khakis; he suspected he was starting to get a rash.

On paper, the idea had been thrilling: a month-long trip with Cat, excavating the tomb of a long-dead Egyptian king, had set his imagination on fire. He still remembered sneaking into the Cineplex with her as children and huddling in the dark, her warm hand in his, staring wide-eyed up at the midnight showings of The Mummy's Curse, or Antony and Cleopatra. The glow of the screen had made her face look like an illuminated sky.

He wondered if she knew how many of those trips had just been an excuse to spend time with her, braving his worries that somehow they'd be found out. He wondered if they meant as much to her as they had to him.

The fact that their flight left at an unholy hour of the night, and their assigned seats were three rows apart, ought to have tipped him off that the excursion wouldn't measure up quite as well as he hoped. The fact that he had barely been outside of the same area code, much less the country, should have been another. Still, even after the abundance of forms, the interminable waiting for passport clearance, and the mad scramble for the gate (huffing and puffing under the weight of Cat's luggage), his enthusiasm remained undampened. He'd rested his head against the window of the plane for most of the ten-hour flight, picturing golden idols glittering in the dark, his name in the papers over an unprecedented find, Ca'tra flinging herself into his arms in celebration.

The reality -as he discovered almost from the moment their plane hit the tarmac- was less glamorous.

"Having fun yet, bro?" Archi called, his back set nonchalantly against the trunk of a dead tree. He had to shout a little, to be heard over the clinking of chisels and the calls of the archaeologists gathered in the dig site. Unlike Alisdair, he seemed entirely unbothered by the dirt and the relentless heat, idly juggling a handful of dried dates. Not waiting for the answer, he softballed one at Alisdair's face with a jovial cry of 'catch'.

"Oh, yeah." Alisdair rolled his eyes expansively, and tried to fumble the date into his mouth and not the sand. "Between the bugs and the dirt and the saliva, I don't think I'm ever going to want to go back. How are you not dying of heatstroke?"

Archi rolled his head back with a long belly laugh, slapping his hands against his midsection loudly enough to make the camels shift and grumble in complaint. His grin was a half-moon glow of chemical white against dark, tanned skin. "Oh my god, you should have seen your face, man! I don't think I've ever seen that much spit come out of anything!"

Alisdair folded his arms huffily across his midsection, his face warming as he hunched his shoulders. "It's funny when you're not the one who spent all night cleaning mucus out of your hair," he muttered, and cast a baleful eye at the offending camel. It chewed placidly on the missing lower third of his sleeve, and stared unblinkingly back, daring him to provoke a rematch. The blond's frown deepened, and he shuffled another cautious step toward the dig. Just to be safe.

"Have you seen Cat at all?" he asked. Other than shifting the topic away from his recent humiliation, he'd barely seen her at all since they arrived. It seemed like they'd only just gotten through customs before Tenax- before Professor Almaizan had smarmed his way in ahead of him, and chivvied off his 'field assistant' to discuss the itinerary for their trip.

No matter where he turned, it seemed, their chaperone was always there, watching him intently with sharp amber-gold eyes and full lips quirked in what the younger man was sure was contempt. He could barely get a bloody word in edgewise with her, much less an invitation to sit with her at dinner, or maybe to hold her hand- to help her across the street, of course; God knew what these people spent their money on but it clearly wasn't city upkeep. Any time he'd tried to steal his way up to the second floor of the hotel, where the girls were rooming, Tenax had blocked the way with an unctuous smile and a long, elegant, firmly barring leg. "Terms of the contract," Alisdair's ass.

Worse, all she ever seemed to talk about anymore was how excited she was to be working with the creepy old foreign professor, and how much help he'd been with her thesis. She barely even glanced at the blond youth when he'd squawked in pain at the temperature of the Turkish coffee- much less listened to his concerns.

Alisdair kicked at the sand, his lips pursing at the memory. It simply wasn't fair.

Archi shrugged, pulling his attention back to the present as he nodded across the base camp to the foot of the tomb. "Hasn't come out since they started, I guess." He cast a long, sly glance at Alisdair's dissatisfied fidgeting, freeing a tattooed hand to smooth his beard back into shape. "I mean, she's probably having the time of her life, right? Did you know she licks the rocks she digs up?"

"She does not!" Alisdair gasped, scandalized, his eyes wide. He gave the sand pile another kick, for good measure, sending an industrious dung beetle scuttling for cover.

"Oh yeah, bro, she totally does. Rocks. Bones. AND all those little brushes. She just sticks 'em in her mouth." Hand raised, fingers together, Archi moved his chin up and down behind his hand in a slow, wicked nod. "I've seen her do it. Go check if you don't believe me. Bet she's already licked your old man's shaving whisk."

Alisdair thought about the possibility for a moment, toeing at the sand. There was something under there, he thought, shifting under his boot. He hoped it wasn't a scorpion. "Man," he said at last, "it doesn't even matter if she did. It's not like he ever uses it." Despite the gentle nudges he and his mother had given, the senior Kallus' facial topiary continued to grow, and the expensive father's day gift gathered dust in the bathroom cabinet.

"God." Archi's face scrunched like one of the dates he was juggling. "Do you think he's got.... you know, a second sideburn growing on his chest or something? Just.... taking everything over?"

"Oh," Alisdair shuddered, wishing -not for the first time- that his parents had elected to install a second bathroom. "He does, actually. It's a whole thatch. Thanks so much for reminding me."

A date rebounded off his shoulder as Archi missed his toss with a look of horrified glee. "Bro, are you fucking serious? Are there pictures?!" His grin widened until it threatened to eclipse his face, visions of blackmail dancing in his head.

Alisdair rolled his eyes, stooping to retrieve the fruit. It wasn't a conscious decision: years of hearing his mother's vendetta against litter had him moving almost mechanically. He wasn't even sure where to throw it once he had it; it wasn't as if an Egyptian desert had compostables bins lying around. His fingers closed around the date, and brushed against the object he'd felt before, just under the sand.

On a whim, he worked his fingers deeper into the debris. It was hard, flat, and rigid: definitely not a scorpion. It didn't feel like much of anything he recognized.

For a moment -just for a moment- the embers of his fantasy caught light again. He saw himself pulling a jewel-studded length of belt free from the sand, or an ancient scroll containing a map to forgotten treasure. He imagined Cat's eyes widening at the sight of it, her mouth falling open in astonished wonder at his luck and talent, apologizing profusely for not having seen how valuable an addition he was to the team. Yes, that would do nicely.

Rocking back on his heels, he opened his hand, dusting away the last of the grit to discover-

"Izzat a piece of beef jerky?"

Archi leaned over Alisdair's shoulder, squinting down at the object. It was not a Pharaoh's belt. It was not a scroll case, either. Instead, he was holding a coal black, withered stick the length of his hand. His nose crinkled in disappointment and revulsion, hand dropping dejectedly to his side. He nearly dropped the thing into the sand before Archi plucked it away from him, bringing it up to his nose like he might an expensive Cuban cigar.

"Blech! It smells like my Uncle Rau's attic!" His friend jerked his head back, expression curdling, and leaned close to shove the object near Alisdair's face. "I mean, I'd still eat it, though. Bet me twenty bucks?"

"Archi, I don't want your-" Alisdair had only just managed to get his feet underneath him before his nostrils were assaulted by something both acrid and faintly herbal. He retched, slapping his hands over his nose, then retched again as he realized the smell was clinging to his palms. "Oh, god, that's VILE!"

"I know, right?! About that bet...."

Alisdair swiped the jerky from his hand, dropping it into a pocket of his khakis, not so much because he actually wanted the disgusting thing anywhere near him as wanting to keep his friend from following through on the threat. "I'm going to go find Cat before you find anything else to shove into your mouth."

Turning sharply on his heel, ignoring Archi's braying laughter, he lengthened his stride across the hard-packed earth toward the dig. He tried to think of Cat's bright blue eyes, her dark curls flecked with glittering dust, and not early memories of his father or the possibility that Archi's little sister had graduated from licking rocks to sampling the shaving cream.

At one point -back when it was first built, Alisdair supposed- the tomb must have been truly magnificent. Sandstone pillars lined the front entrance, still standing firm despite their age, each section painstakingly hand-shaped and still sporting the chisel marks of the artisans who'd sculpted them.

Cat had tried explaining, over the groaning of the camels, the particular types of pigments that would have once decorated them- but he'd been too focused on keeping the constant sway of the animal beneath him from upsetting the contents of his stomach to listen. Now they were the color of dust, the same as everything else in this wasteland.

Most of the structure was still intact, but the section Professor Almaizan had them working in had been dug out in the past year. The pillars near the opening listed slightly, either displaced during the previous excavations or by age. It made them resemble the bones of some ancient, long dead beast, or the nave of a ruined church, open to the moon. Here and there, colored thread was strung out in careful grids, marking off grids for the researchers to work. Near the northern corner, he could just about glimpse the lean figure of Professor Tenax Almaizan as he inspected their work, his dark shalwar kameez billowing in the hot, dry wind.

Steps had been carved into the excavated stone, or cobbled together from what wood they'd managed to cut, leading down into the guts of the structure perhaps some twenty (steep, gritty) feet. If there was any consolation, he supposed, it was that at least there was shade below the first level. Sweat cooled on his forehead as he passed out of the scorching midmorning sun. The shade smelled of hot bricks and chalk dust.

Steadying himself against the wall with a hand, he tried to picture what it would be like to be the first person to set foot in the burial chamber: torchlight glittering off ancient golden idols, gems the size of his hand, his archaeologist companion pressed close for protection as the withered old pharaoh began to stir-

A hand clamped down on his ankle.

Alisdair's undignified squawk echoed from the walls as gravel crunched under his feet, boots skidding on sand. The attempt to correct his balance, far from serving its intended purpose, nearly sent him over the edge and into the excavation pit. Hands flailing, he grabbed for the scaffolding and dug his heels in, a flush of embarrassment and adrenaline flooding his already heat-blotched face. "Ca'tra," he gasped, voice several octaves higher than he'd intended. "Don't grab me like that!"

Ca'tra Akaata (graduate student, aspiring archaeologist, current leading cause of premature heart attacks) was exactly where Archi had said she'd be: sat in the dirt, having the time of her life. One leg braced beneath her, she stretched the other out as far as it would go, marking her place with her toes as she arched up to grin at him. "Hi, Alisdair! Don't come down, I'm still finishing this section." Her voice was oddly muffled.

Lips twisted into a pout at her clear and total lack of remorse, Alisdair ignored her admonition, edging down the last set of steps- though, as a concession, he was careful to avoid the dig points marked out around her.

As she came into clearer focus, he realized her brother had been correct on another point: The horsehair shaving brush WAS in her mouth. Lengthwise, to be specific, teeth clamped firmly on the mahogany handle. He suppressed a wince at a fleeting image of his father, mouth downturned in a perplexed grimace as he loudly asked where the indentations had come from. Turning her head, she casually spat it into her hand, wiped it clean on a corner of her brightly patterned head scarf, and set it back down in the toolkit. "If you step on anything," she warned, "I won't be held responsible for what the Professor does to you."

Tossing his hair, Alisdair let out what he hoped was a sufficiently dismissive snort. "Oh, what do I care what that musty old pedant says? I was just making sure you didn't need to be rescued from traps or flesh-eating scarabs." Cat blinked at him for a second in mute astonishment, then threw back her head and laughed, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. The movement revealed a stray, coal-black curl escaping the confines of her hijab. His hand twitched, resisting the urge to tuck it back into place.

"Scarabs don't eat people, Alisdair," she said, once her ebullience had faded enough to talk. "That's just the movies." Her teeth flashed, lower lip pinned in concentration as she picked dirt from a tiny clay figurine. "Then again, they might make an exception for you. Skittering around in the dark, hankering for your succulent flesh." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Skitter skitter."

Alisdair swallowed, hard, and stood up on his toes, shuffling a little further away from the nearby hole in the wall. Not that he believed her teasing, of course, just that he had heard that. Snakes. Liked to hide in holes in the wall. That was it. Just to be safe.

"You are so mean," he huffed. "At least tell me you found old Pharaoh What's His Nuts so we can go back to the hotel and celebrate."

The young archaeologist hummed, gently blowing the last of the dirt free of her figurine, and glanced up at Alisdair with arched brows. "I hate to disappoint you, but old Pharaoh What's His Nuts was excavated years ago, as I told you repeatedly on the way over.” She paused, and hummed thoughtfully, in the back of her throat. “Most of him, anyway."

"What?!" Alisdair gaped down at her. His knees sagged, back dragging over the rough stone as he dropped into an undignified squat at the edge of her workspace. "But I- but you said-" The champagne and press conferences he'd envisioned evaporated like a heat mirage, leaving him suddenly very aware of how hot and dusty and tired he was. "I thought you said this was exclusive!"

Cat rocked back on her heels, resting her forearms on her knees, and gave him a look that might have been pity. "It is exclusive, Alisdair. This is one of the most important digs of the decade. It's a miracle it hasn't been stripped completely bare by looters, or other archaeological teams. It's an amazing opportunity to get hands on experience in the field. I don't know how the Professor pulled it off."

"I think I've had quite enough experience in the field for one lifetime, thank you. I honestly don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't scorpions, or heat rashes, or all this sand. I don't like sand, Ca'tra."

Cat put the toothbrush back down with rather more force than was strictly necessary. "It's a desert, Alisdair. It's going to have sand. If you weren't prepared for some rough conditions, you could have just stayed at the hotel."

"I wanted to come with you!" Alisdair's voice rose, threatening to become a whine. "I know Professor Musty thinks I'm just a glorified pack mule, but I didn't think you agreed with him."

She sighed, expansively, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I know you don't like him, but he's really taking a chance with me on this expedition. It's not my fault someone got here before us."

Alisdair knew he couldn't really argue with her reasoning, but it didn't quell the bitter disappointment pooling in his gut. It threatened to rise into his throat and choke him. He stared down at the toes of his boots, hands fisting at his sides, and tried to convince himself the stinging in his eyes was just from heat.

"Oh, your professor's so great all right," he snapped. "He's so great that you've been ignoring me this entire trip and dragged me out here where there are scorpions and snakes and heatstroke and spit, and you and your professor'll go on to become rich and famous, and I'll probably die from the curse and all I found out here was a piece of ancient beef jerky!" Without thinking, he plunged his hand into his pocket, flinging the leather down in the midst of her carefully plotted workspace.

Cat's face flushed with anger, her eyes seeming even more intensely blue against the darkening of her cheeks. Snatching the object from among her grid stakes, she pulled her arm back, clearly intending to hurl it right back at him.

Then, abruptly, she stopped dead. Her arm was still poised, fist wrapped around the leather in preparation to send it back in his face. Slowly, she lowered her hand, staring down at the stick in utter bewilderment. "Beef jerky?" she repeated. Before he could stop her, she raised her hand to her face. He had a nightmarish vision then, of her tongue flicking out, flicking out to taste-

"CAT, NO!" He lunged at her, nearly ploughing into her dig, feet skidding as she shot him a murderous look. He teetered at the edge of the colored twine as she brought her hand up to her face again, sniffing once, and then again, more deeply. The flush faded from her cheeks as her eyes went wide.

"Alisdair," Cat said, her tone slow and deliberate. "Where did you find this?"

His brow furrowed in confusion as she held it out to him. "Lying in the sand, who cares, Cat, it's just a piece of jerky. I was going to throw it away."

"Alisdair." Her expression sharp, she leaned forward across her workspace to lock eyes with him. Her hair had slipped even further from the hijab, shading her eyebrow; he took the jerky from her in bewilderment. "Where EXACTLY. Did you find this."

"The entrance to the tomb, I guess?" Alisdair glanced down at the sad piece of leather and wrinkled his nose in renewed disappointment. "It’s hardly the royal jewels, isn’t it?"

But Ca'tra was looking at him now with an expression of astonishment that didn't look like it was born out of mockery, eyes flicking back and forth at some internal dialogue. "No," she breathed, the hints of a smile beginning to grow on her face. "It's so easy. Oh, my god, that's so stupid, I don't believe it."

"Cat?" Alisdair eyed her, warily, his hand still poised in front of herself. He nearly jumped as she lurched to her feet, crossing the dig in one long bound and reached out to grab his shoulders. Silently, she shook him, her face breaking into a grin to rival Archi's. It scared him more than her anger had. "What are you talking about?"

Cat shook Alisdair again, and grabbed his wrist in excitement, her expression very nearly gleeful. "It's been a mystery for years, Alisdair, ever since the Pharaoh was moved from the burial chamber. All those theories! And it was right here the entire time, I could kiss you!"

Alisdair felt his face heat, his anger and frustration leaving him in a rush. His palms prickled as she threw her arms around his shoulders, almost knocking the jerky from his hand. "Oh, well. Um. You're welcome," he mumbled. "What... um. What is it, then?"

"I said they found most of Pharaoh Khem-Adas. Most of him." Cat pulled back, holding him at arm's length, her eyes twinkling. "You said it yourself, Alisdair. The royal jewels! The royal jewels of Old Pharaoh What's His Nuts!" An hysterical laugh bubbled in the back of her throat. "The embalming, the composition, its size- stay right here, I'm going to go find the professor!"

For an instant, still suffused in rosy warmth as he was, the words failed to sink in. Repeating them back to himself, however, Alisdair felt a trickle of dread coil up his spine. He stared down at the mummified leather in his hand, small and roundish and not altogether unlike the treats he sometimes gave Mrs. Almaizan's pomeranian.

Treats that were made of.... of....

"Cat!" His voice cracked slightly, as his flush was replaced with a sickly greenish pallor. He could feel bile rising in his throat. "Are you saying this is.... that I'm holding a-"

“Don’t worry, Alisdair!” She grinned at him, wide and wild, pausing with her hand on the scaffolding. “I’ll make sure you get your picture in the papers! PROFESSOR ALMAIZAN, GET THE CAMERA!"

For such a small woman, Cat's voice echoed across the tomb- across the entire base camp as her feet pounded up the rest of the steps to the upper levels. As his vision began to tunnel, Alisdair thought they could probably hear her all the way back in Cairo.

"ALISDAIR FOUND PHARAOH KHEM-ADAS' MISSING PENIS!”

#metro writes #not nano 2020 #character: Alisdair Massom #character: Ca'tra #character: Archi Akaata #their banter is so much fun to write

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jellyfishpoptart · 4 years

Text

➴➵Pacta Sunt Servanda➴➵

Summary:

Word count: 4,022

Pairing: Mandalorian x Ex-Mandalorian OC

Warnings: Injured Mando, blood, death mention,

A/N: I’m sorry I didn’t post right away I wrote myself into a hole . Also Mando will be getting a bigger part I just want to make sure I’ve fleshed Kinsei out enough first. Any questions comments, or concerns I’ll happily answer in my ask I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist:

part one

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

Kinsei awoke the next day feeling as if her head were full of rocks she rubbed her eyes feeling her arm was weighed down it was in a cast still in its sling. She winced feeling the swollen tenderness of her ribs, she imagined the bruising to be pretty bad judging by how much they throbbed.

She looked around realizing she was no longer in the home made OR she was in a bedroom and by the locks of it belonged to Echo, the soft lighting of the sunset illuminated through the beige muslin curtains. They moved gently letting in a cool autumn breeze. She raised the soft down comforter she wore a loose fitting olive nightdress again borrowed from Echo. Kinsei was thankful to still see her leg, there were three metal rings around her knee extending to her lower leg supported by metal beams some of which were inside of her skin supporting the bone.

She swung her legs over the bed grabbing onto an IV stand for leverage when Chaska walked past only doubling back upon realizing seeing Kinsei was awake. "Don't try walking just yet we put a lot of work into saving it. With all the screws and pins in it you might wanna consider yourself part droid." She said while helping her settle back into bed Chaska propped her leg up onto a pillow and tucking her back in.

"You must be hungry I'll whip you up something real quick." She left as quickly as she came in she could hear Echo's voice coming down the hall in passing she couldn't understand what the two were saying it was too muffled in her current state.

"You're awake how you feeling?" Beamed Echo from the doorway Kinsei smiled back still feeling a little groggy she leaned over from the bed to reach for her coat that hung off of a chair beside the bed. From the inside left pocket she pulled out a photo her thumbs carefully running over the corners of the picture. It was a family picture taken in a meadow on Yavin 4. She was eight in the photo dressed in her black Mandalorian armor.

Standing behind her were Endric, Rham, and Ca'tra also dressed in black armor. Each of them wore a Beskar signet of a snake swallowing its tail on the left side of their chest plate armor. It matched the tattoo on her left inner forearm, she hoped the surgery hadn't left it scarred. She couldn't remember who had taken the photo but she remembered it being another smuggling run for the rebels.

"I really miss my dads." She admitted in a somber tone she wanted them to comfort them during her recovery but there was no way of her finding Rham and Endric. She wiped away a tear before it had a chance to fall, she cleared her throat to pass the thick feeling that had begun to rumble in her chest. Echo pulled out the chair at her bedside to be closer to the young pilot. Echo leaned over looking at the photo with her eyes marvelling at the Mandalorian armor never having seen anything like it in her life.

"Are they still on Mandalore? We can try sending a message out there if you'd like!" Her enthusiasm warmed Kinsei's heart Echo seemed so willing to go above and beyond to make her feel at home. With genocide of the Mandalorian warriors on the night she was born her parents had vowed never to return. It always hurt knowing she'd never know Mandalore the same way her parents had. Shosa must have been way deep within the Outer Rim for them not to have heard of the Empire's occupation of Mandalore.

"They travel a lot for work especially now that we're in war." She shrugged her shoulders propping up the photo against a lamp. Kinsei wondered if they missed her or if they thought of her as a selfish coward. Echo leaned over tucking a stray hair behind Kinsei's ear.

"We'll be your family until you find yours again." said Chaska from the doorway holding a wooden bowl, Kinsei felt overwhelmed it wouldn't be the first time she found herself a family that wasn't blood. She hoped they would be safe especially now that the war was reaching further into the Outer Rim.

➵

Kinsei found the bedrest unbearable on top of the radiating pain from her leg. She felt as if she were going to fuse to the bed. It had only been three days but it felt like a week. She was so used to chasing after her squadron making sure their X-wings were up to par. She found herself staring out the open window gazing at the mountain ridge where she had landed, it was a sick joke.

Echo came into the room with a deck of cards and a bright smile, it annoyed her how cheery she seemed when all she could feel was pain. All this misplaced anger had been boiling under the surface Echo had seen it time and time again in patients with severe injuries she didn't take Kinsei's anger personally. "You seem more wound up than usual, today do you wanna talk about?" Echo asked taking a seat by the bed as she shuffled the cards in her hands.

"What is there to talk about? How I can barely hear you from that side or how I have to listen to stupid fucking sheep all day on the other side?" Despite one of her eyes being swollen shut she still managed to give Echo a harsh look. Echo's smile didn't falter. She began to deal cards humming quietly she paused looking up for a second, Kinsei had been crying, "I wish I died."

Echo set the cards down reaching for Kinsei's right hand she looked at her in the eye her voice soft, "I don't know you very well but I know you're a fighter, you hear me Miss. Tsokara? You're gonna get better and kick ass at physical therapy and you're gonna look back at this moment and realize you didn't mean what you just said." Kinsei's face tensed up as the rest of her sobs rattled her chest they ached her broken ribs making her cry harder.

Two weeks had passed since Kinsei was allowed to be taken off of bed rest, she found walking with her external fixator it was awkward and it throbbed if she stood too long while she fed the chickens or tended to the sheep. She accepted small jobs around the village they took a little longer than expected as she only could use one of her hands. This new life was foreign instead of fixing up starships she began fixing anything she could to get her free hands of the dull ache of her boredom.

That meant repairing the toaster, the tractor, and rewiring the speeders. Echo was right when she said nothing happens on Shosa. The most action she saw was Chaska chasing after the sheep after the fence had collapsed. A fence she later volunteered to help repair despite having no carpentry skills she needed to repay them for all of their efforts to save her.

Kinsei was in the kitchen doing her best to peel carrots, she leaned over the counter using her cast as leverage to pin the carrots down as she scraped the peeler along the carrots. She found herself staring out the open window at the clouds as they crossed by the blue sky. When she saw Echo sprinting through the treeline her normally soft face hardened by something that troubled her. Her peach colored summer dress had blood on it too much blood Kinsei limped over to the front door whipping it open.

"What happened!?" She asked as Echo rushed in their shoulders clipping as she ran into the house down the hall in the back in the room with Kinsei had surgery. She dragged her leg behind her as she rushed after Echo her heart thudding against her ribs. She hadn't been able to run just yet and it frustrated her she just wanted to be useful.

"We found somebody in the mountains! He's injured I need your blood we might not have enough on hand!" Echo pulled her into the room sitting her on a chair as she inserted a butterfly needle into her arm laying the collection bag on the countertop. Echo dashed back to the front door hearing her mother yell after her for help.

Kinsei ducked her head around the door. She felt the air leave her lungs as she watched Chaska and Echo half drag a man down the hall. He wore full Mandalorian armor, his helmet made of Beskar her stomach lurched watching as Echo shoved a pair of fingers into his side to stop the bleeding from at least two of his wounds at his side. The Mandalorian let out a groan he nearly fell to his feet Echo hugged him around the middle pulling him back up right. Kinsei put a hand to her mouth she wasn’t sure if she was going to curse or get sick.

"Don't you dare get sick on me! We need that room sterile!" Reprimanded Chaska who could see the color drain from Kinsei's face when they nearly dropped him. She backed away as they turned came through the doorway leading him onto the table. Echo's hands reached for his helmet Kinsei put her hand over Echo's, her eyes hardened protective of the Mandalorian Creed.

"The helmet stays on." The look in her eyes sent a chill down Echo's spine she had never seen her look so intense for the first time she felt intimidated by her. She took her hands away from out under Kinsei's grip working on a wound on his side. "We gotta take off your armor to see how bad things are. You're in great hands you're gonna be fine." She said in Mando'a, her native tongue almost felt foreign to her lips she hadn't spoken it in so long.

The Mandalorian's helmet tilted toward her almost when he nodded she hooked her fingers underneath his shoulder pauldrons, his vambraces, and then finally his damaged chest plate. His chest rose fast as he fought through the pain he felt as if his body were on fire. The added weight of the Beskar had been crushing his broken ribs.

Claw marks had cut through the faded red durasteel he was lucky to be alive. The room spun for a moment as she moved quickly nearly fainting where she had been standing. Kinsei looked back to see the blood bag attached to her was nearly full. Echo motioned for her back to into a chair it wasn't up for debate. Kinsei dragged the chair to the Mandalorian's bedside grabbing his hand with hers she squeezed once to let him know she wasn't going anywhere.

Chaska cut through the shirt he wore the Mandalorian was battered underneath his skin mauled by something large, he had a set of bite marks from a large predator on his side. On the other side were four jagged claw marks extending from his armpit to his lower abdomen with blood running to the surface. She wondered how much he had left. He let out a crackled groan feeling both Chaska and Echo prod him with their tools. He squeezed Kinsei's hand back then his grip went limp. Her eyes met Echo's, "His body couldn't handle the pain he's going to be fine. This almost could have been you we have pretty big cats in the mountains." She said while continuing the stitch work along the claw marks her eyes focused as she raced to close the wounds.

"Do you know him?" Asked Chaska as she came around the table removing the needle from Kinsei's arm the scrappy mechanic looked up at her while applying gauze to the puncture wound she shook her head no. She didn't have to know him to want to make sure he was okay, it was a part of The Creed to care for one another.

"He's a Mandalorian there aren't many of them left. I need to make sure he's okay." She kept her eyes on him as Chaska hung up a few pints of blood Echo was still working on small intricate stitch work. She noticed more claw marks on his upper left arm the flesh torn and separated she could see the white of his bone. She didn't think anything on Shosa could be capable of something so gruesome.

"Them? You're a Mandalorian too!" Said Echo the young medic had always been curious about Kinsei's life but never got around to asking Kinsei always seemed tense when she tried to ask. "He can't take his helmet off so why did you?" Echo asked feeling curious about her new friend. Kinsei raked her hand through her hair as she tried to find some way to leave the but she was still light headed.

She sighed feeling defeated it was about time she told them something about herself after all they did save her life, "It's a part of The Creed if you take off your helmet you can never put it back on. This is the way." Her voice sounded as far away as her gaze like she was swimming in memories of the past. The kind of memories that grabbed you and held you down at the bottom until you couldn't breathe.

"I was staying with a small Mandalorian clan on Tatooine after I left home, things were good at first and then the Imperials came. They murdered all of them for the little Beskar armor they owned and let their bodies rot in the sun." She paused to wipe away her tears with the sling not once letting go of the Mandalorian's gloved hand his fingers twitched under the weight of her shaking hand. She hung her head in shame and was never able to forgive herself.

"I decided I'd much rather be a coward and live than to die. So no I'm not a Mandalorian. " Kinsei had always blamed herself for not being able to help defend against the damned Imperials. For years she felt selfish she hadn't been able to stop and help because she had been making repairs on a moisture farm generator for credits instead of being at the homestead defending the clan.

"Oh stars, I'm sorry I didn't mean to ask you something so personal." Echo apologized, keeping her head low as her mother gave her a hard look, she had been curious about Kinsei but the pilot made herself hard to know. Chaska and Echo finished in silence both of them cleaning around Kinsei who hadn't moved in her pensive gaze her grip still tight on the Mandalorian's hand.

"You need to be more careful how you talk to people." Said Chaska while disposing of soiled gauze Echo made a face like she was holding back tears of her own a few slipped Kinsei looked away for a few moments pretending not to notice to give the young medic privacy.

"It's okay, don't be so hard on yourself you didn't know." said Kinsei while looking up at Echo she decided she would try to be more open with Echo to build a friendship with the young woman especially if she was going to be on Shosa for while.

"Kinsei you need to eat something before you pass out on us two pints is a lot of blood missy. Your friend will be fine." Whispered Chaska as she rubbed Kinsei's back until the young pilot opened her eyes slowly standing up right black dots appeared before her eyes as she steadied herself finally letting go of the Mandalorian's hand.

She opened the closet by the window grabbing a wool blanket and draped it over him, she wanted to make sure he was comfortable. Her fingers ran over his armor which sat in a pile on a side table, she missed her armor which was probably at the bottom of a sand dune by now. Buried deep with all of those memories she tried to repress.

"Is there somewhere I can get this fixed?" She asked holding up his durasteel chest plate her fingers tracing the deep claw marks. Chaska pursed her lips together taking it from her then putting it back on the table.

"I'll tell you after you eat." There was an authoritative tone in her voice like a mother scolding her child Kinsei arched an eyebrow following her out of the room. She paused for a moment in the doorway looking back at the Mandalorian. Chaska continued to the kitchen finishing up Kinsei's prep work.

"How long have you been dragging your leg like that?" Asked Echo while she set up an IV into his arm she hung the bag onto the hook she then set up a second IV, Kinsei tried not to make a face as needles had always made her nauseous.

"It's fine I can still put weight on it, see?" Kinsei stood on one leg and for a moment a quick flash of pain shot up through her back. Her face faltered Echo finished up with the Mandalorian's IV then bent down to look at Kinsei's leg. She touched it with the back of her hand checking for the tell tale warmth of infection, she then examined where the pins punctured her skin to set the bone.

"It looks okay just try to take it easy you've been doing too much too soon." Echo had the same stern look as her mother however Echo's features made her soft, her brows drew together watching Kinsei lean up against the wall taking her weight off the leg. There was a bit of sweat building on her brow. She looked exhausted, "If it ever hurts too much let us know we can help you.” Echo put a comforting hand on Kinsei’s shoulder she nodded knowing she'd never admit to she had a feeling she'd lose it if she did.

"Tell me about the thing that hurt him. Should we be worried about them coming down from the mountain?" Kinsei quickly changed the subject walking alongside side Echo trying to keep at a normal pace. She took a seat on a stool across from Chaska who was standing at the kitchen island she had made quick work of the carrots Kinsei had left behind.

"We have pretty big mountain lions out here probably just as big as your X-wing. It's one of the reasons why we check the mountains looking for injured people." Judging by the look she had on her face Kinsei was certain she had lost someone close out there, "Mr. Mando over there is lucky to be alive. He managed to take down two that's unheard of around here." She excused herself to clean herself off her words where curt Kinsei could tell she was uncomfortable.

Echo was wearing a good amount of his blood. It was staind deep along her hands crusting underneath her nails there was the taste of bile rising in her mouth as she watched Echo sprint off into the fresher.

"Try not to think too hard about him. He'll be sore as hell but he'll live. Worry about something else like how shit your knife work is." Quipped Chaska with a raised brow it brought a chuckle to Kinsei's lips. She watched as Chaska meticulously planking through the carrots in nice even lines.

➵

Dinner came and went but sleep never came for Kinsei, she felt restless in the guest room her mind just couldn’t settle down. So much had happened in such a short amount of time seeing the injured Mandalorian left her rattled. It was around three in the morning when she finally got up. Wrapping a blanket around herself she walked down the hall into where the Mandalorian had been sleeping. She took a seat on the floor crossing her legs as she looked up at him. He seemed at peace but she knew from experience it wasn't always so peaceful. While she was under anesthesia her mind kept replaying her crash landing in an endless loop until she managed to regain her consciousness.

"Not wearing your armor doesn't make you any less of a warrior." Even through the modulator his voice sounded week as if he were whispering he had responded in Mando'a she stood up taking a seat at his bedside. She smiled sadly while shaking her head in disagreement. "People like us are always fighting." Added the Mandalorian with a groan as he frisked his side exploring his injuries.

"I'll always be dar'manda nothing more than a hut’tuun. I'm just a pilot and I can't even land right." She grit her teeth feeling frustrated as a quick current of pain shot it's way through her body. She felt like she deserved all the pain she was going through for losing her heritage it was a big disgrace amongst the Mandalorian Creed. It was a heavy weight on her chest, one that seemed to always rear its ugly head when she was feeling most vulnerable.

"It was a difficult choice after the great purge many went into hiding whether it's in plain sight it's all the same. Our people will always need people like you. You protected my honor and for that I thank you." She wished he couldn't see the look on her face, she put a hand to mask the ugly cry she was failing to swallow down.

"Does it hurt?" She asked looking him over he shook his helmet no but she could tell judging by his short breaths he was just as stubborn as she was. She drew back the blankets noticing he had bled through his bandages she turned around to look for the supplies she'd need to redress his wounds.

Kinsei gathered the bandage and the gauze using the soft moonlight to guide her as she groped through drawers. “Can I ask you something?” She muttered as the Mandalorian sat up peeling away his own bandages, a soft hiss escaping his helmet it looked like it wasn’t the first time he had to do this.

The Beskar of his helmet caught the shine of the moon as he tilted his head while cutting through medical tape aligning it on to his tanned chest, she sat slumped forward her arms on her knees as she looked up to him. “On your travels have you seen a pair of Mandalorians with a signet of a snake on their chestplate?” Her voice soft scared of what his answer might be she looked away watching his fingers graze over what used to be a puncture wound on his side.

"There aren't that many of us out there. The people you're looking for may have gone into hiding." It wasn't the answer she wanted to hear but she knew it would have been too easy. He struggled with removing the bandage on his arm. She peeled away the medical tape gathering the dirty bandages disposing of them before returning to the spot beside him. Holding the bandage down with her fingers as the Mandalorian handed her tape.

The silence between them didn't bother her Kinsei was in her own head trying to process his words. Knowing her fathers' the were smart and resourceful they would be safe she was certain of it.

"Thank you for listening to me, I'm sorry for disturbing you." She whispered reapplying the last piece of medical tape before heading back to the guest room. With each step past the main bedrooms she let out a small whimper she nearly fell through the door of the guest bedroom as she held onto her left leg. The other arm kept her held up against the wall her vision blurred she hopped into bed panting as the pain continued she felt as if her nerves were pulling and stretching. She pulled a pillow over her face to muffle the sounds of her crying.

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Mando’a key:

Dar’manda: a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionall-minded Mando'ade

Hut’tuun: coward (worst possible insult)

#mando x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x oc #din djarin x oc #star wars oc #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #dyn jarren x oc

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