#i saw one and left womp womp comment
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Soccer balls, More Like Sock Her balls
Chapter 1
It was a brisk morning with clear skies and chirping birds. Yuji skipped down the concrete sidewalk, waving at his new neighbors as he left for school.
Wow, what a beautiful morning, Yuji thought to himself. It’s almost nice enough to make me forget my grandfather, the only parental figure I ever had in my life, dying this morning in front of me. I saw him take his last breath as his eyes clouded over and he passed on to the next life.
Welp, got no time to cry about that! Today is my first day at Jujutsu High, where I have a soccer scholarship!
Yuji walked into the gates. It’s times like these that I miss my grandfather’s ability to drive. Or be alive.
Womp womp, he cheered himself up.
Suddenly, a hot pink Corvette revved into the parking lot obnoxiously, blasting 212 by Azaelia Banks loud enough to shake the asphalt under Yuji’s feet.
“I guess that cunt gettin’ eaten. I guess that cunt gettin’ eaten. I guess that cunt gettin’ eaten.”
A boy around Yuji’s age sprinted out of the car before it fully stopped, slamming the door though it did nothing to lessen the noise.
The window rolled down and a white-haired man leaned far enough to jingle the pink dice hanging by the mirror. “Have a good day at school, sweetie!”
The boy flipped him off, not looking up as he walked over to Yuji.
“You must be the new student. Yuji Itadori, right?”
Now that he was closer, Yuji noticed how pretty he was, with long eyelashes fanning over his soft cheekbones, stylishly spiked hair, and eyes dark enough to get lost in. His eyebrows scrunched together in what looked like confusion and oh MY GOD SAY SOMETHING HE ASKED YOU A QUESTION YOU FUCKING DUMBASS.
“Um what? I mean yes! That’s me! LOL.”
“Did you just say ‘el oh el’ out loud?”
The bell quite literally saved Yuji’s ego from answering the question as it rang. “Saved by the bell!”
WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING SAY THAT OUT LOUD.
“Yeah, I guess. My name is Megumi by the way.”
“Oh that’s such a pretty name!” Good job, Yuji, you saved it
“Oh, you’re calling it pretty because it’s a girl’s name? Next thing you know, you’ll be calling me pretty in an attempt to emasculate me 'cause I’m gay, right?”
“What no I-”
"You hate gay people, right?”
“No, no I-"
“You’re calling me a twink, right?”
“No, I’M ALSO GAY.”, Yuji exclaimed this all too loud, causing everyone in the courtyard to stop and stare at him.
The silence was deafening and excruciating.
Yuji wanted to join his grandfather in the afterlife.
A girl in the crowd started laughing boisterously, breaking the tense atmosphere. As everyone slowly returned to their previous business, she approached casually, throwing an arm around Megumi.
“Yo, fatherless. Are we still on to watch the Bachelorette later tonight?”
“Personal space, Nobara. Also shut up and no, just for that comment.”
The girl rolled her eyes and Yuji felt terribly awkward. To bond over similar situations, Yuji quickly said, “My parents are absent too! And my grandfather died just this morning! Also, my dog got run over.”
Nobara looked weirded out, but Megumi looked at Yuji in a different light, his expression softening. “Oh. I didn't know that. Sorry for taking out my bad mood on you, by the way. My guardian, Gojo, is being a real bitch; I wish he died this morning”
Yuji started laughing, with Megumi joining in softly later. The girl frowned as she left. “Fucking gay freaks,” she muttered as she walked off, joining a green-haired girl and kissing her cheek.
As the courtyard emptied out, only Yuji and Megumi were left, smiling softly at one another.
Megumi quickly cleared his throat. “So, the tour?”
“Oh, yeah, right! Lead the way!”
Megumi walked through the halls as Yuji quickly hurried to follow.
“So, you’ve already met Nobara. The girl she was with is Maki Zenin, her girlfriend. They’re both on the soccer team. Originally, girls weren’t allowed to play the sport, but they hatched a plan together last year to threaten the principal into submission. One thing led to another, and plans turned into dates. It’s the romance story of the ages, or so they say.”
Megumi rolls his beautiful eyes, tinged in starlight and oh shit I should pay attention to what the fuck he's saying instead of his eyes FUCK.
“Next is the band kids,” Megumi stated as they walked past a classroom filled with discordant music and yelling.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” a voice exclaimed and, miraculously, everyone did.
“Yeah, that’s Inumaki Toge. He doesn’t say much, but people listen when he does. There’s a rumor circulating that he’s half siren, but the reality is that he has blackmail on practically everyone in the school. Pro tip: don’t insult him. Or his boyfriend for that matter, Yuuta Okkotsu. Though you don’t need to worry much about him. He disappeared last year under mysterious circumstances. Supposedly, he got a scholarship to study abroad, but no one has heard from him since. Oh well.”
“Wait is he like OK-”
“Moving on, there are plenty of other people in band, like useless Miwa or ugly-ass rat-faced dumpster trash fucking Mechamaru.”
“Woah, do you have a grudge or something?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“Oh, uh, no reason!”
Megumi frowned. “OK anyway. There’s a huge betting pool on when Miwa and Mechamaru will get together. They both like each other a lot; Mechamaru even joined band just for her despite being in the robotics club. Many people think that’s a sweet romantic gesture, but personally, I think he’s a pussy who should grow some fucking balls.
“Oh, look there, that’s Todo and Mai. Todo is part of the soccer team. Don’t talk to him; he’ll ask for your type of woman and wrestle you to prove his superiority. Or something. He’s annoying.
“Mai is not really any better. She is Maki’s twin sister but they couldn’t be more different. Where Maki is gruff but sweet in her own way, Mai will bully you about watching Barbie until you cry in front of the classroom on show-and-tell in first grade while everyone, including the teacher, laughs at you, even though, objectively, Barbie and the Three Musketeers is a very masculine movie centering on war and friendship.”
There was a brief pause as Megumi turned to look at Yuji, clearly having forgotten that he was there. His cheeks dusted pink as he waited for Yuji’s reaction.
“Oh, I love Barbie and the Three Musketeers!” Yuji smiled wide. “Though personally, my favorite is Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper.”
“Really! I always loved that movie too! My sister Tsumiki used to make fun of me for singing along.”
“That’s so cool that you have a sister! My older brother left me when I was seven.” Yuji paused. “We should totally watch Barbie together!”
Megumi nodded excitedly before catching sight of Mai snickering behind her hand. “We should move on.”
The boys paused in front of a classroom. A vaguely familiar-looking white-haired man with sunglasses gestured towards a big contraption of metal in front of the classroom.
“Now class, what will happen when I smash this with a big hammer?”
He swung downwards without waiting for an answer. A fiery explosion rocked the school as the sprinkler system turned on. As the students clearly panicked while the teacher laughed hysterically, Megumi turned to Yuji with a serious expression.
“This is the worst teacher in this entire goddamn circus of a school. He constantly endangers his students with his dangerous and unethical experiments, never even teaching the physics material properly, and most of his tests consist of questions about his personal life. Never take a class with this fucking clown; spending time with him increases the urge to kill yourself.”
The teacher looked up, locking eyes with Megumi. “Oh, my sweet baby boy, is that you, my beautiful son?”
He rushed towards the doorway as Megumi quickly and efficiently closed the door, hearing a thud from the other side as the man faceplanted into it.
“He’s also my guardian, Gojo. Let’s leave quickly before he wakes up.”
Megumi dragged a concerned Yuji away.
“Last stop is Professor Geto’s history classroom. He’s pretty chill. All he does is try to discreetly recruit his students into his bullshit cult, so watch out for that. And don’t mention him to Gojo; you don't even want to know the number of times I’ve been subjected to a dramatic retelling of their breakup.”
A mysterious high-pitched growling started, and Megumi grabbed Yuji’s arm in clear panic. “Close the door, close the door oh my god.”
The boys slammed the door shut and sprinted away, Megumi dragging Yuji along by the hand. Though Yuji should have been very concerned over what just happened, all he could focus on was the warmth of Megumi’s hand in his. They finally stopped in front of another classroom, Megumi belatedly letting go of his hand.
Megumi shuddered, looking vaguely sick. The bell rang again and he snapped out of it. “Well, time to get you to class. Luckily, we share Professor Nanami’s English class together. He is nice, kinda boring, and drops weird traumatic lore once in a while. He also grades harshly, so I hope you’re good at writing essays.”
“Don’t worry, I’m an expert,” said Yuji, who was notorious for failing all his essays at his previous school.
The two boys nabbed seats together in the back as a young peppy man entered, wearing a beanie.
“Hey guys! I’m the TA for this class, Ino Takuma! Feel free to ask me any questions, as I'm usually the one grading your essays!”
The class remained silent as many students snoozed in their seats.
“OK awesome! Professor Nanami will be arriving shortly!” Ino discreetly checked his phone.
The door opened as a tall and intimidating blonde man entered. “Hello, class. I apologize for my tardiness,” the man, obviously Professor Nanami, began in a monotone voice, “the line at the bakery was very long. Let's start with a classroom exercise where we go around the class and state 3 fun facts about ourselves. I’ll go first, to give an example: my name is Nanami Kento, I like sandwiches, dislike tomatoes, and I know at some point this will come out, and will ruin the trajectory of the whole class, but I watched my best friend die in front of me when I was 14. Who wants to go next?”
Wow, that was dark. I hate when people trauma dump, it’s so self-centered.
“How about you, young man?” Nanami looked straight at Yuji.
Crap, what to say? I know!
“Hi! My name is Yuji Itadori! My favorite movie is Earthworm 3, I like Jennifer Lawrence and my grandfather died this morning.”
“Good good, just like that. We’ll proceed in a counter-clockwise fashion. You next, young lad.” Professor Nanami gestured towards Megumi.
“Good morning, my name is Megumi Fushiguro. I like tea and my favorite band is kind of underground; you probably haven't heard of them, but it is Radiohead.
“Shut the fuck up,” muttered Nobara, who Yuji had not noticed was behind them.
Megumi ignored her. “And lastly, I hate Gojo Satoru.”
Nanami slowly approached the boy’s desk, towering over him, before giving him a crisp high five. “A+, Mr. Fushiguro.”
The class continued in a similar fashion until the bell rang.
Better head to soccer practice, or I’ll lose my scholarship! That would be bad, because then I would be kicked out of school and homeless because no one is looking after me currently.
******************************
When Yuji arrived at the field, he saw the white-haired man from earlier- Professor Gojo, right?- yelling at a small group of teens gathered there.
Yuji quickly jogged over, not wanting to be late for his first practice. He found a familiar spiky mess of dark hair and went to stand next to Megumi.
“Alright guys. It is seriously not that hard to come up with a good team name and no, Megumi”- the teen next to Yuji put his hand down guiltily- “Team Kill Yourself is not an acceptable option. Oh, is that a newcomer I see?”
Yuji waved excitedly before Megumi grimaced and gently pulled his hand down.
The rest of the tram turned to look expectantly at him, and he recognized a few familiar faces: the blunt Nobara, intimidating Maki, pretty Mai, broad Todo, a few nameless faces, and a mysterious man in a panda suit.
“Um hi! My name is Yuji Itadori and I’m really excited to be helping this team!”
“Well, Yuji Itadori, do you have any name suggestions?” Gojo peered at Yuji over his glasses and Jesus Christ put some contacts on.
“Hmmmmm….. Maybe…..” Yuji clapped his hands together as an epiphany struck him. “How about the Jujutsu Sorceror Team?”
There was a brief pause as everyone digested the new information with considering looks.
“Wow…” began Gojo, “that was seriously the corniest shit I’ve ever heard of. I mean, even Team Kill Yourself is better than that. Hmm… Let’s just go with Team Sock Her Balls.”
A boy Yuji did not recognize shyly raised his hand. “Wouldn’t we get in trouble with the school-?”
“Shut up, nerd. I don't even remember your name, god. Anyways, actual relevant people, let’s begin practice.”
Everyone separated out into the fields as Yuji followed Megumi, who luckly didn't seem to mind.
A harsh poke on the shoulder caused Yuji to turn around, spying Todo towering over him.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Yuji Itadori. What is your type of woman?”
“Jesus Christ, not this again,” Nobara muttered from behind Yuji.
“Ha! I wouldn't expect you to understand, though I can ask your type of man later, if you would prefer.” Todo struck a pose flexing his muscles.
“First of all, me? With a man? You must be out of your goddamn pea-sized brain, you stupid oaf. Second of all-” Nobara reared her fist back and swung forward, straight into Todo’s nose.
Todo was knocked backwards, a stream of blood erupting from his nose. From the ground, he weakly said, “Oh, you’re gay? That’s cool too. What’s your type of woman..?”, before passing out.
“Ughhhh are you serious, Nobara? Soccer is about kicking, not punching!” Gojo complained. “Yuji, take Todo to the nurse’s office; no one else will do it.”
Yuji looked at Megumi with panic before the other boy sighed and gently pointed out the directions to “Nurse Shoko”. Yuji lugged the broader boy across the field, dodging balls that almost seemed to aim at the prone body before Todo woke up and only needed a little assistance.
Yuji eventually found the nurse’s office in a secluded corner of the school. He knocked gently before Todo waltzed in, seemingly familiar with its white wall already. Yuji followed closely behind.
A beautiful woman, Nurse Shoko, who was smoking in both ways, leaned against the wall lazily as they entered.
“Oh great, it’s Todo again,” she said, blowing a puff of smoke in their general direction.
“Is smoking allowed at school?” Yuji asked, perplexed.
“What are you, a tattletale? Shut up and get back to practice, weirdo.”
Yuji returned to the field, glancing back at Shoko providing Todo tissues lazily. As he returned though, he realized practice was over.
Well, better head back to gramp’s house to pack up my things to move into the dorms here. Man, I will miss my house. And my grandfather.
****************************************************************************************
Yuji arrived at his late grandfather’s house, pointlessly announcing “I’m home,” as he took off his shoes.
“Man, I will really miss this place. More than that, I’ll really miss gramps.”
Yuji jumped as a sudden noise upstairs echoed through the supposedly abandoned house.
“Who’s there? I have a knife,” Yuji lied.
Yuji crept up the stairs, only armed with his fists and his fear. He approached his bedroom door, slightly cracked open. As he tried to enter quietly, the door squeaked so fucking loudly that everyone and their dead grandfathers probably heard.
Crap.
“Sup baby bro!” A voice Yuji never thought he would hear again.
Could it be…
“It’s me, Sukunaaaaaa.”
Wow, it really is him!
Yuji fully entered the door, dropping his fists and defenses completely. “Wow Sukuna! I never thought I’d see you again after you left me nine years ago!”
“Yeah well, things changed; I got tattoos and gambled, grandfather died and supposedly had a huge fortune hidden away, haha you know, the usual. Speaking of which, where's that old decomposing dirtbag’s will?
“Oh, you’re still just as funny as you were nine years ago! I’ll go get it from the kitchen!”
Yuji and his long lost older brother walked to the kitchen together.
“Wow, your tattoos look pretty neat,” Yuji said, trying to start a conversation as he gestured to his brother’s facial tattoos.
“Haha yeah, I got them in prison.”
“Oh…”
Mercifully, they arrived at the kitchen. “Saved by the kitchen!”
“What?”
“Nothing! Let me get that will for you.” Yuji rummaged through the drawer before finding the very important piece of paper that probably should not have been in a kitchen drawer. “Well, let’s read it together!”
The paper read:
I, Wasuke Itadori, in good health and sound mind, dedicate all my fortune to my favorite grandson, Yuji Itadori, the light of my life, when he comes of age. I hereby declare that absolutely NONE of my fortune will go to my other bitchass grandson, Sukuna unless there is literally no other option, like Yuji dying or something idk. Peace bitches!
P. S. Choso can get $5.
“Haha wonder who that Choso guy is! Anyways, did that answer your questions?”
“... Yes. Yes it seems so. It seems that I need to get in contact with some old friends… HahahahahahHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHA” Sukuna starts laughing evilly, just like he did when chasing Yuji around with a knife when they were younger. Ah, the good old days.
What could possibly go wrong?
#megumi x yuuji#nobara x maki#gojo x geto#choso kamo#megumi fushiguro#yuji itadori#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro#soccer au#mafia au#bottoms movie#lgbtqia#kfc breakup#crack#rat dog
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OSRR: 3052
today was really productive.
i woke up to my alarm this morning! and then i fell back asleep. and then i woke up again not too long after! and i took my meds because i'd brought them upstairs with me last night because i knew i wasn't gonna wanna get out of bed to go get them but i needed to take them still, so i kept them by my bed. which was a great idea.
and then after taking then i fell back asleep again for an hour.
when i woke up, it was about 11:30 and mom asked me for help decorating, which i was planning on doing anyway, so i got up and showered and made my way downstairs to help decorate. mom gave me a working time of 45 minutes so i could get to work on my paper, and in that hour we got stuff organized and put up and problems solved and i'm pretty happy with how things look, even though we're definitely missing a box of greenery. i have some lights to put up soon, so hopefully the snow we've gotten today melts. which i doubt it will very much, but tomorrows supposed to be in the mid 30s and it'll be in the 40s later this week, so it probably will. who knows.
anyway, i spent the day editing the 54-page group document for our capstone. as the 4th person exiting it, i was shocked to see how many problems were left. repeated words, improperly hyphenated words, and missing citations, along with poorly formatted end citations, which i fixed all of, some of which entirely. that was fun.
but i got it done in time for our 5pm class meeting before our presentation tomorrow, so that was good.
and then i volunteered to cover the small business section. so i gotta do that tomorrow. eh.
and after dinner, after i finished up doing some other things and looking at rings because mom saw that someone got engaged and i was like "i picked out the ones i want, wanna see?" so we looked at them for a while.
i also helped mom move some empty boxes out of the way so it's less cluttered around the house, and james took our cars one by one to fix them in some way, and i learned i'll need new brakes which shouldn't be terrible, and i'll need a new something else which i anticipate being more expensive. but the good news is that i have some money i can use to pay for things, so that's good. it was nice being able to pay for tires myself.
and then, after all that, it had started to snow, and i switched tasks to the discussion posts i had left to do for my capstone. i had my textbook open so i could understand what i was supposed to be looking at, which didn't end up helping so much as google searches and looking at what my classmates commented. so i got all of those remaining posts done, so the last thing to do for my capstone is that presentation tomorrow. and then it's done. and all i'll have left is the few pieces that go to my paper for my other class. and then i'll be done. i'm so excited.
in the meantime, i've been so busy i haven't texted joel in a couple days, but i have thought about him. mostly in passing, though, like "joel would enjoy this," or "this reminds me of joel," and most frequently "i miss my joel :c" but i haven't reached out besides the other day of asking "do you need anything." i assume he's okay. he would tell me if he weren't, if for no other reason than he'd need a ride somewhere or need someone to watch the dog for a bit. joel is funny, but i understand. how babies have object impermanence, i have people impermanence. if they're not there and i'm not constantly reminded of them, i forget they're there. so i understand not reaching out. it's just. people don't exist if they're not in my top messages on here, facebook, snapchat, over text, or on discord. womp womp.
oh well. i'm fine. just tired. time to sleep.
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Be My Enemy, Be My Remedy
Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader
Words: 9647 (again, I wish I was sorry but I’m not)
Warnings: Angst and Smut. Rough sex. Breeding kink (sorry not sorry). Touch “kink” due to touch starvation.
Summary: You couldn’t really consider him as a friend, not because you didn’t want him to be but because he never gave you any inclinations for wanting to change your little “happy-hunting” arrangement, whatever that even was. So, that left you as partners...at best. But a mission gone wrong forces the Mandalorian to reevaluate his relationship with you, finally realizing you were not his enemy but the complete opposite.
A/N: Fasten your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, here is the second Mando fic. I seem to be incapable of writing Smut without Angst, I don’t know why. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments and how I can improve. Thank you!! Some quick notes: Beskad is a Mandalorian Sword and the Whistling Bird releases small guided munitions from the vambrace (forearm brace). I planned on including some *whispers* weapon porn but I got sidetracked and so expect some beskad and glove smut in the next fic enshallah.
For a bounty hunter who prided himself in never getting distracted from the hunting trade, the Mandalorian sure was preoccupied by the crystal spires reaching farther than the eye could see. You couldn’t blame him though, Christophsis was among the most exquisite of planets and not just those belonging to the Savareen sector. You followed behind and continued to glance next to you to make sure the crib was floating nearby.
“Where are you you doshing little shabuir? I know you’re around here somewhere.” You whispered to yourself as you kept moving away from the busyness of the noisy bazaar, hoping to the maker that the child wouldn’t wake up from the sharp calls of drunkards and sellers arguing over horribly brewed spotchka.
“Hey, told you to watch your language around the kid.” The Mandalorian hissed at you from ahead, turning his head slightly towards your narrowed eyes and glaring at you through the visor. Or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. With the way he was currently moving through the quieter streets, you knew he was definitely not happy with where the three of you ended up, let alone your lack of respect for his ‘parenting’ methods.
“Relax big guy, he’s in his crib dreaming of all the frogs his soft little heart wishes he could eat. Besides, you told me I need to practice my Mando’a.” You motioned towards the crib and rolled your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow when you saw the minuscule shake of his helmet before he looked down at the tracking fob.
“Not around the kid…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response because he just had to always get the last word in. Mando hoped his rough response would distract you from the way his body seemed to react to being called ‘big guy.’ He knew what you were referring to and yet he felt goosebumps erupt on his strictly covered skin at the thought of you saying those specific words but under different circumstances.
“Waadar Ke'sush'.” He hissed more to himself than you and didn’t bother to respond when you asked him what those words meant.
As you made your way towards the skirts of the town, you felt a pair of eyes boring into your neck and knew instantly the quarry must have known you were here. And you knew the Mandalorian could sense his presence as well when he placed the tracking fob back into his pocket and trailed his hands down to the blaster on his hip. You wished you could ask him why he continued to walk towards the forest but knew better than to question his methods. Any conversation held between the two of you might spook the bounty and the last thing you needed was to make a scene on a planet you weren’t that fond of being on to begin with.
But it was getting a tad bit annoying once you were far enough past the trees and the Mandalorian continued to walk through the brightly-colored plants.
“Shouldn’t we-” Before you could finish the question, Mando was turning around and shooting at a large tree not twenty feet behind you. You pushed the crib out of the way before taking out the beskad as well, squinting your eyes to try and see where the wanted Rodian was.
“Dank farrik!” You swore when you realized the Mandalorian was more likely to get a better shot than you because of the heat-sensors in his helmet. You felt useless, torn between shooting wherever he was and making sure the kid wasn’t harmed in the crossfire.
“Watch out,” it took you a second too late to realize that Mando was yelling at you and you fell backwards as one of the beams roughly grazed your thigh. As you attempted to wrap a band around the wound, you heard the familiar sound of the crib opening and before you could do anything, the child was already approaching you, his eyes filled with worry as he stretched out his little hand and shut his eyes.
“Oh no you don’t,” you put the hand down and make quick work of the wound, about to stand up and put the kid back into his crib.
“Haar'chak,” you looked up as soon as you heard the Mandalorian swear at the top of his lungs, the vocoder not hiding his anger and causing you to lose your equilibrium for a split moment. This was not the time to dwell on the effects his voice had on you or the fact that he was angry at you getting hurt. You wished to dwell on the latter thought for a little bit longer but shook your head to clear the haze his voice placed you under.
Putting the sharp Mandalorian weapon back into the holster, you realized you were of no use to the Mandalorian now that you were compromised, deciding to make sure the child was safe instead of running after the Rodian with him. But that plan was gone as soon as it came once you looked down and realized why the Mandalorian swore.
The kid wasn’t next to you.
In fact, he was nowhere near you.
Turning around, you saw the bounty holding the child against his chest, a knife in one hand and a blaster aimed at the little one’s head in the other.
“Wait,” you held out your hands against your partner and the quarry, refusing to let anything happen to the kid because of some stupid bounty. And as hard as you tried to dismiss it, you felt hurt at knowing that the Mandalorian was angry because the kid was taken and not because you were hurt.
“You’re getting soft Mandalorian,” the bounty, Tig Bayantik, smiled as he taunted the man behind you and you hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
“Let him go,” the growl that emitted from the vocoder could have brought you to your knees under other circumstances, and you turned to look at Mando before returning your focus on the kid. Your heart broke at the thought of him getting hurt because of one simple and stupid mistake you made. A mistake that should cost you your life and not his or his father’s.
“Alright alright, everyone just calm down.” You forced a smile and kept your hands in Tig’s eyesight so he wouldn’t misinterpret your movements. “Let’s solve this like the rational adults we are. Tig, what do you want...besides us not coming after you?” You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping to steer the conversation your way until you trapped him with an offer. An offer you were most definitely going to regret as soon as it left your lips. But there was no other option. The last thing you expected was for something like this to happen. The child was only ever in dangerous situations when one of you was caring for him, never when the two of you were around. This was not ideal and you hated what you were willing to do to ensure his safety.
“Simple, your chain code for the kid.” He pointed at Mando and smiled when he noticed him shift uncomfortably.
“Why?” The Mandalorian hissed his question and you sighed annoyingly because since when did he ever question anything that had to do with the little womp rat.
“Since when do you ask questions Mandalorian?” Tig screamed and held the kid too tightly to your liking, causing you to lean forwards when you heard him cooing and moving his little hands towards you.
“Alright,” hoping he would follow your lead, you reluctantly took the beskad out of its holster and threw it at Mando, ignoring the obvious discomfort shedding off of him. As you asked him to give you the tracking fob, the Mandalorian thought of ten different ways where this could go from bad to worse now that you gave him the main weapon you had on you. He titled his head to the side when you asked him for the tracking fob and reluctantly threw it at you, watching in annoyance as you dropped it to the floor and stomped on it twice until it broke beneath your feet.
“I’ll do you one better, me for the little womp rat who couldn’t stay in his fucking crib a second longer.” You could see Mando’s little head tilt from your peripheral vision and weren’t sure if it was because he hated that you swore in front of the kid again or because he was most certainly not going to follow along with the sharade and considered the idea incredibly idiotic. Before he could say anything, you took a few steps forward, hands aimed towards the turquoise skies while silently praying to the maker that your hunch would be correct. When you saw Tig’s hands twitch and begin to lower the blaster from the kid, you knew you had him.
“You must be desperate.” Tig held onto the kid tighter and you hoped he wouldn’t question you anymore because at this point, you were sure you would be the one doing something stupid to get him back.
“No, I’m just the moof-milker who wasn’t supposed to care about some tinman and his foundling...and yet here I am.” Your admission filled the silent air and you thought you heard the bounty hunter lightly gasp behind you but knew better. Call it wishful thinking but if you were to ever make it alive out of this situation, with no one harmed, you were going to think of finally telling him how you feel. How you’ve felt ever since you joined his clan. No, that wasn’t it. You weren’t part of his clan. You just...were.
“I don’t have a single weapon on me...not even a whistle. Plus, I’ll fetch for a good price on Malachor…” You turned to your partner and held back from smiling once you saw the minuscule nod he threw at you. He couldn’t afford one of the munitions from his whistling bird hitting the kid, but he could use it if you took his place...or so you thought at least.
“That’s the...they pay in-” As Tig tripped over his words, you held back a sigh of relief because he was finally falling for the trap.
“That’s right baby, they pay exclusively in Nova Crystals...only a moron would let the opportunity slide from his fingers. Come on, what do you say? Last I heard, I was worth five-” Before you could finish your sentence, Tig was setting the child down on the ground, the blaster instantly aimed at your head so you wouldn’t think of escaping. You waited until the kid ran to the Mandalorian before stepping towards the Rodian in front of you.
“Smart man,” you hissed when he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back before pulling you flush to his chest, making sure the Mandalorian didn’t have an opening to shoot him.
“Our business here is finished Mandalorian,” Tig warned the beskar-clad hunter and you instantly felt sorry for him because it was one thing to threaten the kid but a whole other to warn him. As he stepped back and took you with him, you took a deep breath and shut your eyes, praying that if and when the munition hit you, it wouldn’t hurt badly. You snorted loudly before you could silence yourself and the Rodian dug his nails into your forearms. “What’s so funny girly?”
“Girly? Oh you’re dead meat now.” Almost instantly, you heard the Mandalorian fire two small munitions from his vambrace, falling backward in pain when sure enough, one of them broke the skin of your hip right before it hit the bounty in his side. He immediately rolled you down beneath him and was about to shoot you right between your eyes if it weren’t for the Mandalorian running towards the two of you and kicking his head. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized he fainted from how hard the hit was, gaze instantly landing on the man standing above your battered body. You could tell he was definitely killing you in a thousand different ways but feigned ignorance at the obvious anger, smiling when the green goblin waddled towards you and stretched his hands out again.
“I thought I told you not to do that,” you warned him again, struggling to stand up and ignoring the heat rushing through your clothes when you felt Mando support your back. He let go when he noticed the way you reacted to him, thanking the maker for the helmet that hid his hurt expression. As you put the child back in his crib and shut it to ensure he wouldn’t get out again, you turned around and found the Mandalorian violently cuffing Tig and forcing him to stand up. He was a little dazed but knew better than to attempt and fight the Mandalorian. If you could feel the rage rolling off of him, then the Rodian was certainly aware of it as well. You kept on glancing at him and noticed the way he was clutching the beskad, a part of you hurt that he didn’t return it to you once he cuffed the bounty. There weren’t any more dangers, to your knowledge, but it still felt like he was purposely ignoring the weapon in his hand. Maybe he just didn’t trust you with it at the moment. You couldn’t blame him if he was reluctant to hand it to you ever again. It was a most valuable position and he was technically crossing a line by allowing you to use it so the fact that you felt the need to give it back to him must have struck a sensitive nerve. As your eyes took in his rigid form sulking and strutting ahead of you, you hated the way you were reacting to him holding onto the beskar sword and shook your head at how absolutely fucked up your mind was for thinking of him using that beskad a little differently on you.
The four of you made your way back to the Razor Crest in silence and you could tell the couple merchants left in the bazaar were staring at you as you made your way through the alleys. But you didn’t care for any of that because you now had another issue at hand. There was no way the Mandalorian wasn’t going to ask about why there is, or was, a bounty on your head. Those on Malachor who wanted you were known across the Outer Rim Territories, not because of the nature of their work but because of the history tied with them. Only a fool with a death wish would mess with the Zabraks and the Mandalorian was no idiot. He’d heard you saying how much you were worth. You knew he would never try and take up that bounty for himself, at least you hoped he wouldn’t. Not after everything you’ve been through.
But there was no way he wasn’t going to ask you to leave. The longer you thought about it, the quicker you realized he was probably going to just leave you on Christophsis. The kid was too important to him and he couldn’t afford losing him.
Hell, he was too important to you. Both of them were. And you wouldn’t want to take that chance if you were in his place.
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the Crest, clutching at your side and looking around you to make sure no one was following you. You pushed the crib up the ramp and vaguely heard the sound of the carbon freezer going off, muffling the rage of the Rodian who was sure he was going to be richer than the Empire in a matter of hours should he have taken you.
Reluctance filled your heart and you thought it better to not bother and attempt to get on the ship when you knew its owner no longer welcomed your presence. Looking to the side, you saw a dimly-lit turquoise tree bark on its side facing the lake behind the ship. Barely making it across, you threw yourself down and sighed, opening your eyes and looking out to the different shades of blue coloring the luminescent lake. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there and you didn’t care. It was too beautiful to let your worries run with you.
It was bound to happen.
“What did I say about wasting time we don’t have?” The Mandalorian’s voice broke your daydreams and you jumped at the modulated voice, crying in pain when the gash at your hips oozed out more blood.
“Pfassk!” Hearing him swear beneath his breath before getting down on his knees to get a better look at the wound gave you butterflies in your stomach and you thought back to what happened earlier with the kid. Maybe he did care if you got hurt after all.
“It isn’t bad. The bacta spray will take care of this.” He grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, his visor turning away from you when he met your eyes.
“You mean...o-on the ship?” You wished you didn’t sound so helpless but the thought of not being turned away from him put you at ease and you hoped he wasn’t just going to help you get back on your feet before leaving you. He wasn’t that cruel...
“No in the cantina.” His response was instant and you couldn’t hold back the laughter from bubbling up your throat even if you tried.
“Did- did you just make a joke? Maker, you...hah, you actually made a joke. Did I hit myself on the head or did you j-”
“Enough,” his grasp tightened around your upper arm and you swallowed the lump in your throat when his gruff voice hit your core. As soon as you went up the ramp, Mando was shutting it behind him, pushing you towards your cot in the back before leaving for the cockpit. You didn’t know what else to do so you decided to sit there until he returned. The bacta spray was in his quarters and there was no way in hell you were going to go there. You were barely hanging by a thread and feared how he’d react if he found you going through his things.
The bounty hunter, on the other hand, purposely left you there for a few moments to try and get himself together. As he plotted the course to Nevarro, and made sure everything was in place, he thought back to what you were willing to do to ensure the kid’s safety. And he wished he didn’t feel his heart swell with anticipation following your confession. Sure he knew you care for the child, you’d proven on many occasions that you have. But hearing you admit you cared about him stirred something into his chest, a feeling he purposely ignored these past few months of having you on the ship. A feeling which he tried his hardest not to humor because as far as he knew, you were strictly business partners, and nothing more. Hell, the two of you barely considered yourselves as that considering how often you headbutted during the hunts. He was forced to bring you on board because a pair of extra eyes were necessary to make sure the kid was safe. Had anyone asked him weeks ago about what he thought of you, he would have said he considered you as an acquaintance, since the word ‘enemy’ would have been a little too harsh.
Of course that would have been a blatant lie because this same feeling residing in the pit of his stomach grew every time he saw you interact with the child. Something about seeing you switch from being a deadly bounty hunter to a caring m-, a caring woman, made his chest swell with need and...dare he say, hope. It was a feeling unlike any other.
A feeling which quickly turned into a deep yearning when he finally noticed the effect he had on you as he tried to help you onto the Crest. He felt guilt wash over him because the purpose of the heat sensors was to track his bounties and not to fill his eyes with your heated skin and warm c-
A loud crash brought him out of his haze and as he descended the stairs and looked towards your cot, dread filled his soul. You must have lost more blood than he initially thought because you were lying on the ground with the child attempting to move out of his crib.
In an instant, he was carrying you into the makeshift bed, head shaking when he looked at you and saw you deliriously giggling at him.
“Must I almost die for you to finally remember I-” You attempted to joke to put him at ease but regretted it immediately when you realized it had the opposite effect on him.
“Shut up.” He left you sitting on the bed before bringing the kid to his quarters, warning him not to get out of his crib before aggressively grabbing the kit and returning to your side.
“Take your shirt off.” He barked out the command without giving too much thought to it and winced when he realized how careful he must be when he’s talking to you, especially now when you looked so weak and...fuck. No. He can’t think like that.
“P-pardon?” You were visibly shaking at the sudden request and wished you weren’t thinking of-
“Do you not speak Basic anymore? Take the kriffing shirt off.” You flushed under his gaze and looked away from him as you tried to remove the ripped article of clothing. When you hissed and lowered your arm, Mando sighed in annoyance because of course you wouldn’t be able to raise your arm.
“Not all of us can hide the pain behind a mask Mando, I just ne-” He didn’t let you finish your comment, setting everything aside and softly grabbing the hem of your shirt. You forgot how to breathe for a moment, looking at him quizzically when he remained unmoving for a few seconds. It occurred to you that he was probably waiting for your permission and you nodded slightly before looking everywhere else but him. Mando tried his hardest to control his reaction at seeing your soft skin and he was sure he was doing a good job until he saw your nipples harden behind the chest band.
Clearing his throat once, Mando stood up and helped you take your shoes off before preparing the bacta spray. “Will you...can you remove your pants?” His question was filled with reluctance and you wished with all your heart you could tease him about his tone but didn’t trust how he’d react to you.
“I-I’m sorry I- can’t. It hurts to bend d-”
“Okay.” For maker knows what time that day, Mando cut you off and moved closer to you, willing himself to take deep breaths as he unzipped the front of your pants and held them at your hips. As you raised yourself to help him get the pants off, you couldn’t help but gasp as soon as you felt his gloved hands make contact with your skin. Mando stopped moving and kept his visor away from your face towards the medical supplies on the bed to give you some form of privacy. He could hear your heartbeat elevate, could feel your skin growing hotter beneath his touch, could almost smell the scent of your arousal sticking to the humid air. But he chose to ignore it, all of it.
Slowly pulling the pants off, he maneuvered you around until you were facing towards the wall.
“This might hurt a bit Ad'ika.” The endearment left his lips before he could stop himself and he felt you still under his touch.
“What- what does that mean?” Your voice was weaker than usual and he didn’t know he could feel any guiltier than before but the way you responded to his touch and his voice had him growing hard in his pants and if it weren’t for the fact that you entrusted him with caring for you, he would have pushed you down to the bed and swallowed those little sighs and whimpers until you begged him to stop.
“I’ll tell you later.” The Mandalorian was never one to avoid such simple questions and you knew he could definitely see goosebumps growing across your skin once you realized why he might be refusing to tell you now.
You felt the cold sting of the bacta spray spread across your thigh and grabbed the nearest object to you which so happened to be his forearm. Shutting your eyes harder than intended, you hissed out in pain when you felt him mirror your actions and tighten his fingers around your wrist.
“Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika.” He whispered as he moved you around to face him, not giving you a chance to adjust to the position as he sprayed your hip. You didn’t let go of his arm once and felt hot tears rolling down your cheeks the more he pressed the medication into the open gash across your hip. He continued to whisper in Mando’a and you found it more soothing than you liked to admit even though you understood absolutely nothing of what he was saying.
“M-mando please...I can’t- s-stop ple-” You cried out when the bacta spray hit the deepest corner of the cut, hands instantly moving to his shoulder and fisting into his cowl before unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Mando placed the top of his helmet against your forehead, willing himself to continue and care for you even though his touch was only bringing you pain in that instant. He almost shook his head when he noticed what he was doing, the gesture going completely unnoticed by you because he never told you what it meant in his culture to lean one’s head against another’s. He enjoyed the moment and whispered his apologies the harder you began to shake in his arms.
“Gedet'ye Cyare, I’m almost done. Take a deep breath for me,” he waited until you sucked in as much air as you could before applying the bacta spray to the last corner of the wound, setting it down and staring into the gash until he saw it slowly closing. You weren’t sure how long he sat there looking at you but you knew he could see the effect he had on you because his visor moved back and forth from the wound to where your thighs shifted. Once he was sure the skin was almost healed, he stood up and stepped away from you, already missing the heat of your skin touching his clothed armor.
“Vor entye,” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to thank him in his mother tongue and hoped he wouldn’t dwell too much on it as you attempted to stand up. As you held out your arms to keep your balance, the Mandalorian was next to you in the blink of an eye, holding onto your waist to prevent you from falling over.
“You need to get some rest.” He half-yelled at you and you wished he wasn’t standing so close to you because one more rough command and you were going to fall on your knees and beg him to fuck your mouth.
“No, I need to use the refresher.” You were surprised by how steady your voice came out and refused to be distracted by the way his fingers continued to twitch against your bruised hips.
“You can barely stand without my help.” Mando was frustrated beyond measure and recalled back to what he was thinking of when he was in the cockpit. A slow realization came to him and he stepped away from you when he knew it was never anger that bugged him whenever you challenged his commands, but frustration. More particularly, sexual frustration. Because if there was ever a time you looked absolutely divine, it was when you were fuming and yelling at him at the top of your lungs. And for some odd reason, he loved seeing you stand up to him.
“I am using the refresher. I feel sweaty and disgusting and wet a-” You probably shouldn’t have said that last bit because Mando was letting go of you and collecting the supplies, not bothering to look back at you as he unlocked his cot and set the kit aside before checking on the kid.
You mentally smacked yourself at the ridiculous word vomit and grabbed the nearest dry shirt and undergarments before wobbling to the refresher. Once the Mandalorian was sure you were in the refresher, he took the child to his little space near your cot and rubbed behind his ears until he fell asleep. He kept on looking at the door of the refresher, a part of him worried you’d slip and hit your head if it became too foggy in there.
He was finally allowing his thoughts to become less hostile and worried when he picked up on a faint groan. Standing against the refresher door, he remained silent and shook his head when he heard you moan a string of ‘fucks’ a few times before something fell.
“Pfassk,” shutting the curtain around the child, the Mandalorian walked to his cot and began to strip out of his armor. He refused to dwell too much on what he was about to do and the meaning behind his actions. Before long, Mando was standing in the middle of the Crest as nude as the day he was born and he took a deep, calming breath before taking off his helmet and setting it on the ground. Walking to the control box, he shut the lights off and ignored your sudden cries at losing sight of the room.
He approached the refresher and hoped what he was about to do wouldn’t pull your relationship apart, whatever that relationship was. Unlocking the door, he waited at the foot of the small room before stepping in, the heat of your shower already making him lose his mind.
“Mando?” Your voice came out hoarse and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from jumping on you right then and there.
“Hmm.”
“Why...w-what are you doing?” He hated how much fear was laced in your words and realized you might completely misunderstand his actions.
“Making sure you won’t fall and die on me.” The Mandalorian hoped his voice emitted some semblance of control and when you said nothing, he panicked and thought of the worst. Unbeknownst to him, you were struggling for a response not because you wanted him to leave but because he wasn’t wearing his mask. He chose to take his mask off and be in the same room as you. True the lights were off and you couldn’t see even a foot ahead of you but it was still a big deal, even more so for him. And maker, his voice was smoother than the finest Opaline Creed honey. You weren’t sure what you expected it to sound like but you genuinely thought the vocoder was what made it sound so guttural. Turns out, it was already smooth and deep and was just intensified through the helmet. You felt your legs shaking at the knowledge of hearing that same voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears and instantly decided to move away from that grey area.
“T-thank you.” The soft exclamation shot through his spine and he didn’t bother to slow his movements as he pushed open the door of the even smaller privy and stepped through. Years of adapting to the mask as well as walking around in the darkness of his ship without it allowed him to see where you were standing. He could just make out the shape of your curves and held back a moan when the water hit his tired muscles. You refused to move an inch, afraid to break whatever spell fell over the two of you and allowed you to be in close proximity. The bounty hunter rarely articulated his inner thoughts and emotions so anything you could say might genuinely spook him.
When your hand fell from your chest to try and readjust the heat of the water, it accidentally trailed over his skin and you gasped when it finally occurred to you that yes, he was very much as naked as you. His mask was not the only thing that was off. You weren’t sure what that meant for him or for you apart from the fact that he felt the need to strip off his armor, physically and metaphorically, to ensure your safety.
“M-mando…”
“Mesh'la, if you keep calling for me with that sinful voice, I- I am not sure I will be able to restrain myself.” For the first time since you’d joined him on the ship, Mando was losing his patience and control, and he hoped his words wouldn’t scare you away. He never sounded so...breathy? Was that even the right word? It took you a few longer moments to finally register what his words meant and you set the soap on the shelf before stepping towards him. You could sense the moment he acknowledged just how close you were to him because he finally let himself react to your heat and gasp at knowing you were within arm’s reach.
“T-then don’t…” The words were left hanging in the damp air around you and you thought you crossed a line which he so obviously sounded like he didn’t wish to move past.
But Mando was on you in the blink of an eye, grabbing your hips and pushing you roughly until your back hit the cold wall, the feeling of his wet skin sliding against yours turning you on way more than it should. Before you could have any time to react to the sudden movement, Mando was leaning down and hoisting you up against the cool metal, moaning against your cheeks when your legs crossed behind his back and pulled his achingly hard cock to your heated core.
“Mando, oh fuck- I...y-you’re-” You wrapped your arms arond his neck and felt the soft hair at the nape of his neck tickle your skin. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried, fingers instantly fisting in his hair and finding it much longer than you thought it would be. Mando groaned and felt himself growing harder as you bucked your hips against him and the thought of finally sheathing himself inside you drove him mad with lust. He felt how warm your cunt is and his knees almost gave out when for a moment, he brushed against your clit and felt you whimper beneath him.
“Ad'ika, I- I need you...I burn for you. Please, sweet girl, will you let me have you? I can feel you pulling me in...can smell your wetness calling for me.” You were sure you died and joined the stars because the man before you rarely spoke and here he was spilling his heart’s deepest desires unabashedly and rather enthusiastically. You threw your head back as he bucked his hips against you and bit down on your neck, smiling when you knew you’d wake up to numerous bruises and marks coloring your skin and showing the universe whom you belonged to.
“Please...pl-please, I'm yours Mando, do what you want with me. T-take whatever you want, ohh ffuh- fuck me until I...till I can’t feel anything but your cock. Kriffing hell I-” Mando couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. He knew he should prepare you for him. He knew he should make sure he wasn’t forcing you into anything. But your words nudged at that primal lust he reserved for you and in that moment, only one thing mattered.
Making sure he marked every single inch of you until he didn’t know where he ended and you began.
With as much focus as he could muster up, Mando trailed one of his hands down your thighs and took himself in his hand, jerking the head of his cock against your wet slit and feeling you shiver at his ministrations. Bracing his feet better against the warm floor, Mando ceased to breathe as he thrust harshly inside you, swallowing your moans as he brought his lips against yours. The two of you couldn’t move a muscle for a few seconds and Mando thanked the maker you weren’t trying to meet his hips because he was sure he would cum right then and there should you clench any harder around him. You couldn’t get enough of the way his tongue danced against your lips and you tried your hardest to keep kissing him for as long as possible. But then he was pulling away and nipping at your neck, and you swore he was going to be the death of you because you never pictured him with a beard and now you were feeling it rubbing against your already hyper-sensitive skin.
“Mand-” You whimpered into his lips once more and felt him become more aggressive by the second.
“None of that...my name is- it’s Din. Remember it, memorize it...fucking say it as you take my cock into that wet, tight cunt of yours. I-I want you to scream my name as I fuck you sweet girl...I want to hear these walls shaking with how much I pleasure you.” You couldn’t wrap your head around what he’d just willingly allowed you to know. It was too much to take in and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you realized what this man has done for you in the span of a few hours. Din faintly heard you sniff and hoped he wasn’t hurting you in any way.
“Din,” he curled into you as soon as his name left your lips, unable to stop himself from pulling out and plunging back into you time and again just to hear you whisper his name in his ears. He was intoxicated by the little sounds you were emitting, squeezing your thighs and making sure you were holding yourself up as he began to pound into you until the only sounds left in the small room were his skin slapping against yours and the running water.
“Oh- gah...D-Din, I-” You couldn’t form a proper sentence even if you tried, fingers digging into his back as you felt his cock hit near your cervix. Before you knew it, you were clenching around him, screaming his name as you arched your back and came on his dick. Din growled when he felt you squeeze his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before he continued to fuck you with abandon, carrying you over the edge once more until you were a moaning mess.
“Fuck, ah Cyare...you’re everything I dreamed of a-and so much kriffing better...I- I want to brand you darling...I want to leave my mark on every single one of your holes. So, fucking, good for me,” Din couldn’t believ what he was saying because a part of him felt guilty for using such filthy language with you. But he didn’t want to stop, he wanted you to know how much you affected him. He yearned for you and wished with all his being to become one with you in every single possible way.
“Din, Din...oh pfassk- cum for me. Cum for me please, fill me up...let me feel you hot and deep inside me.” You begged for him and prayed to the stars he wouldn’t be turned off by what you were asking of him.
“Mesh'la...you- is that what you want? You want me to cum inside this sweet little cunt? Want to walk around with my seed leaking down your thighs- ah fuck, you’re a dream. A kriffing dream...and you’re all mine. Mine to fuck when I please, mine to mark- ah by the gods woman...mine to fucking breed when I feel like it.” Din was no longer in control of himself, grinding his teeth before he leaned down and attacked the skin of your chest. You clenched around him when you felt his teeth nip at your nipples a little harder than you liked. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him to go easier on you. It was intoxicating how much he wanted you and you didn’t want this to end because now that you’ve had a taste of how much of a generous lover he is, you didn’ want to give it up, even if it meant having purple and blue spots coloring your body the following day.
“Yes, yes...Din, ‘m all yours. Please-” He wasn’t sure if it was your desperate pleas that forced him to cross that threshold or if it was how sinfully warm your cunt felt as he thrust into you time and again. But it didn’t matter because Din was close to losing his mind as he stilled all his motions, cock pulsating and shooting his seed so deep inside you he was sure you were going to have another kid running around the ship. In all honesty, the Mandalorian was not sure he wanted to have another child but the image of your grown belly was engraved into his mind now and he didn’t know if he could ever stop himself from bending you over every part of the ship, at any given moment in time, and breeding you until you couldn’t feel anything but his hot cum filling your insides.
You were gasping for air at this point, leaning down and sucking on his Adam's apple just to get a rise out of him. You smiled when he unintentionally jutted against you and somehow managed to push his hot seed deeper inside you. Maybe he was more touch-starved than you initially thought...
“Mine. All mine,” he whispered right before slowly setting you down on the ground and you hissed when you felt him pull out, the sudden emptiness making you wish he could stay inside you just a little while longer.
“Come on, it’s going to get cold soon.” His words seemed calculated and you almost got a whiplash from how quickly he managed to compose himself. As he shut the water off and stepped out, you were met with a thousand doubts and the Mandalorian must have sensed your reluctance because he grabbed your arm and forced you to get out of the privy, quickly wrapping a towel around you before opening the door of the refresher and pulling you along with him.
A quick look at the child’s curtain and Din knew he was still fast asleep. Not knowing what to say after your activities, Mando unlocked the door to his quarters and turned around to face you, taking hold of your towel and softly passing it over your wet skin until he was sure you were dry enough to not catch anything. You waited patiently until he dried himself off and stood there in silence, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you away.
You felt a faint touch smoothing through your fingers before engulfing the palm of your hand and you let yourself smile at the thought of Din being so shy with you even after the last hour or so. You stepped closer to him and rested your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks on him before kissing across the scarred expanse of his skin. Din was having a hard time, in more ways than one, keeping himself in check but feeling your lips leave open-mouthed kisses on him broke the thin thread he was hanging by.
Before you could say anything, Din was leaning down and carrying you in his arms, immediately taking your lips into his as he kneeled down and stepped into his cot. He quickly shut the door of the semi-private corner in hopes of not waking the kid. Now that he knew how loud you were capable of screaming, he wasn’t planning on terrifying the child and making him think he was hurting you in some way.
“Din-” You melted into his arms as his fingers massaged down your arms, stilling when they reached your navel before slowly pushing your thighs open.
“Cyare...the things I want to do to you. You make me want to lose control.” His admission twisted your stomach and you turned your head to the side to avoid his words because as much as you enjoyed hearing how much you affected him, it was embarrassing to listen to him praise you in such a way when up until hours ago, he barely managed to keep a conversation for more than five minutes. Din noticed the shift in your body language and retracted his fingers, choosing to lay them on the covers beneath you so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed with his presence.
“Did I offend you sweet girl?” He grinned against your cheeks before laying lazy kisses across your clavicle, smiling when he coaxed more needy moans out of you.
“N-no, no it’s...I- I’m just not used to-” You tripped over your words and wished he wasn’t distracting you with his lips so you could try and tell him what you were thinking of.
“Being told you’re a good girl?” Mando could tell he struck a nerve because you shifted your thighs and arched your back against him when his hand shot to your legs to keep them from closing.
“I- uhh, that’s n-not wha-”
“Come on Mesh'la, since when do you get so tongue tied while talking to me?” Din knew he was pushing all your buttons and wished you could finally lose it and try to challenge him because he was as ready as he’d ever be now that he sort of knew where you stood with him.
“Din, I don’t want you t- to think that I...that you need to do...this, because I...I can’t bear the thought of you pushing me away if you...oh maker, if you regret this tomorrow.”
Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, he was certainly not expecting such a nervous response to his actions. He wished he wasn’t so hostile with you since you joined him but he was only trying to protect the kid, and himself. The fact that you thought he was with you out of pity and not because of how much he wanted you was preposterous and as much as he wanted to ease all your worries away, he couldn’t deny how hard he became just from hearing your small voice telling him to not regret sleeping with you.
Without giving you any warning, Din pulled away from you, grabbing your hips aggressively before turning you on your stomach. You barely had any time to react as he forced you on your knees and shoved his hands into your hair to pull you against him. Your hands shot to his calloused ones and grabbed onto them like your life depended on it, whimpering and shaking in his arms as you felt his cock slide across your wet slit.
“Feel how much I want you Cyar'ika, how much I crave being inside this sweet cunt,” Din shoved three fingers inside your pussy and growled when he felt his cum mixed with your wetness and rolling down his palm. “You drive me mad with lust baby and there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this universe, that will ever convince me to not want you.”
“D-din…” You cried his name as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, not bothering to let up as he felt you reach your peak and gush down his hand onto the covers. You tried to grab his wrist and beg him to stop but he didn’t, couldn’t if he tried. Letting go of your hair, he slapped the hand grabbing at his wrist away before wrapping those same fingers around your throat, pushing you back against his chest as he continued to finger you until the only sounds he heard were your desperate pleas for him to slow down
“That’s right, scream my name sweet girl. Fuck...I could smell your cunt. L-let me have a taste, please.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Din pushed you down and laid between your thighs, immediately descending on your heated slit like a parched man in the middle of Tatooine looking for a drink of water. Your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it as soon as you felt his beard tickle the inside of your thighs. He was being rough, he knew he was being overbearing and a little too much. But he didn’t know how to respond to your doubts so he thought it best to show you just how much he needed you.
Din groaned as he licked and sucked on your clit and when you tried to push him away, he clasped his hands above your navel and kept you close to him, not caring that your thighs were crushing his head as he took your clit between his lips and roughly swiped his tongue on it.
“Ahh D-din I can’t…please n-no more-”
“You’ll take what I give you Mesh'la,” Din let go of you and kneeled above you for a few moments to allow you to catch your breath. When he could hear your heart rate almost return to normal, he once again turned you around on your stomach before raising your hips up against him. Spitting on his fingers, he jerked his cock a few times before repeating the action and rubbing it across your pussy, chuckling when you tried to lean away from him.
“Don’t even try to run away from me. You asked me if I really wanted to fuck you so, here is my answer. Take my cock like the sweet little girl you are,” nudging your wet lips with the painfully hard head of his dick, Din snapped his hips forward until he was completely sheathed inside you, his chest shaking with anticipation at the thought of being able to fuck you again.
“Oh kriffing hell you feel so tight around me, so wet and tight and perfect. Can you feel me Cyar'ika? Can you feel how much I burn for you, how much I need you- oh maker, you’re better than what I’ve dreamed of.” He didn’t care what that last admission implied because if it meant putting you at ease then he’d say it over and over again until you believed him. As he thrust into you relentlessly, you didn’t know what else to do except bite down on your forearms and beg for him, not sure if you wanted him to slow down or fuck into you harder.
“Ner...all mine. Don’t want anyone else, ne-never wanted anyone else. You’re it for me Mesh'la. Oh fuck, I could feel you pulling me in deeper sweet girl.” The Mandalorian could feel you shaking beneath him and his chest filled with shameless pride at the thought of knowing he was the one bringing you this much pleasure. He forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could see your dimly-lit body obeying his every command. When he saw you biting down on your hands, he fell forward on top of you and brushed your hair to the side, biting at your shoulder blades as he rutted against you.
“Your sounds belong to me...your sighs, your moans, your fucking pleas. They belong to me so don’t fucking hold back.” Din growled his commands into your neck before wrapping one arm across your sternum while the other maintained its violent hold on your hips to help you meet his thrusts. He pulled back up again and took you with him, continuing to whisper in your ears as he felt your cunt squeezing his cock before pushing it out. Your whole body convulsed in his arms and Din couldn’t believe what he felt rolling down his thighs. He maintained his hold on you as he rammed his dick inside you again, barely managing to turn your head around so he could kiss you.
And as he swallowed your whimpers, he marveled at how much you were willing to give him, feeling his heart skip a beat when he realized you have placed complete trust into his hands and allowed him to do what he wanted. The desperation of wanting to be with you in every possible way drove him mad and he barely recognized his own self when he pulled from your mouth and breathed heavily against your cheek.
“Fuck, ah kriffing hell- I don’t want to leave this cunt...want to fill it up with my cum till you can’t fucking breathe from how full you are. Fucking beautiful, letting me touch you, brand you...breed this tight pussy over and over again.”
“Din I- please...cum for me, I want to f-feel you cum inside me- I need you to- I can’t wait. Oh maker I l-lah ahh-” Din lost his rhythm as soon as he heard what you almost said to him, pushing you down beneath him as he shoved his cock a few times inside you before you felt him pulse against you, hot streams of his cum painting your walls and driving you over the edge one more time before completely stilling. His hips continued to buck against you and you knew he was trying his hardest to ensure you wouldn’t lose a single drop of his seed.
The two of you fell over and you hissed when Din pulled out and turned you over, immediately pushing his softening dick back inside you once he found a comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest and smiled when you heard his heart beat against your cheeks. The two of you sat in silence, with Din drawing patterns on your shoulders while you kissed the scars painting his skin.
It was a while later when you heard him sigh once that you knew what he wanted to say but was reluctant to admit.
“Go ahead, I know you want to ask.” You whispered to him, hoping any loud voice would break the blissful haze and make him turn you away, even though he told you there was no chance of him ever letting you go now.
“I didn’t want to presume I had a right to ask.” He leaned down and kissed your head before wiping away the wet hair from your face.
“You have the right to do anything you want with me, Din.” The Mandalorian was surprised by how matter-of-fact your admission sounded and he couldn’t understand how you made such an amount of trust sound so easy and straightforward.
“What do the Zabraks want with you, Cyar'ika? There are only a few of them around so you must have done something deserving of their attention.” He didn’t want to make it seem like he was judging you and hoped you didn’t misunderstand why he wanted to know.
“I- I may or may not have found an ancient “artifact” that belonged to an important ancestor of theirs...and I may or may not have given it to-” You didn’t know if you should tell him about the mutual friend and felt your chest tighten when he urged you to continue.
“To whom?”
“Ahsoka Tano.” His silence made you nervous and you were about to ask him if he was angry at you for not saying anything but he returned to massaging your back before speaking up again.
“That’s why she recognized you.” You heard his smile when he spoke and felt at ease immediately because he really was much softer than he let on.
“You noticed that did you,” you chuckled against him and hummed in pleasure when he pulled you up to kiss him.
“Did you mean that?” Din asked as he continued to touch every inch of your skin he had access to.
“Hmm?”
“That I have the right to-” He couldn’t finish the sentence because while he knew he meant every word he said, he wasn’t too sure about what you wanted from him.
“Yes, Mando.” Din frowned at your use of his nickname and rolled you under him, ignoring the way you whined as he slipped out of you.
“Don’t...please, sweet girl. Please say my name...when we’re alone.” There were so many promises hiding behind his request and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say at such a heartfelt admittance.
“Din, I-”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Anything you want with me, from me...I’m yours Din, always.” You laid your hands on his cheeks and pulled him to your mouth, swirling your tongue against his before tightening your grip around him as you felt him nudge at your entrance.
“Mesh'la...Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir.” His voice was soft as he whispered those words against your lips and you wished to ask him what he was saying but decided to bug him about it later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy the moment and feel his warm skin slide against yours. A part of you, a very small part, hoped he would have a slower stamina because you weren’t sure if you were able to do anything else in the next few hours. But you knew, in your heart, that you would give him anything, and all of you, even if he didn’t ask you to.
Translation (which are not always accurate but I tried):
Doshing - A “derogatory” modifier
Shabuir - extreme insult; "jerk", but much stronger
Waadar Ke'sush' - Pay attention.
Haar'chak - Damn it!
Moof-milker - A term for a dimwitted individual
Pfassk - An adaptable expletive
Ad'ika - Little one
Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika. - I’m sorry.
Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart
Gedet'ye - Please.
Cyare - Beloved
Vor entye - Thank you
Mesh'la - Beautiful
Ner - Mine
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir. - I love you. I shouldn’t. But I do.
#The Mandalorian fanfiction#The Mandalorian x Reader#The Mandalorian smut#mando x reader#Mando smut#Mando fanfiction#Din Djarin x Reader#Din Djarin smut#Din Djarin fanfiction#The Mandalorian#Din Djarin#Pedro Pascal#baby yoda#star wars#star wars fanfiction
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What if...? Part 8
Yeah, so we ended up with 9 parts (plus possibly an epilogue, depending on how long 9 turns out) instead of 4... or 5... or 7/8... As I said; I’ve given up restraining this story as you lovely, lovely enablers kept throwing encouraging fuel to the writing fire and muse molotovs at me. The comments and reblogs are cat nip to a writer and I am a weak, weak soul who can only say; thank you so much <3
-
What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Part 8
Davarax has to be tired and Dulsissia can see places on his underarmor that is scorched and torn, which tells her he probably has new scars to join his old ones, but he ignores it all in favour of catching up with what has happened in the children’s lives.
Paz doesn’t seem to mind the others bombarding him with questions too, especially about the helmet, he’s grown even taller and seem to have gained some muscle, but Dulsissia feels a tiny twinge in her heart at that he also seem more quiet and subdued than before.
Maybe it is just the side-effect of having spent over a year with his father that close? Maybe things will become more normal now that Paz is back with the other children? Dulsissia hopes so. But she wouldn’t place any credits on it.
It’s surprisingly difficult to let go of them when the time comes, so Dulsissia aims the words to herself as much as the children when she explains that Davarax and Paz need to rest for a bit. And, yeah, get cleaned up. But how about they have a welcome home meal later?
It’s a bittersweet event. Dulsissia wants to kick herself when she watches Paz sit by the table and be unable to eat anything. His t-visor rests occasionally on the food, but he doesn’t comment on it.
Needing to distract herself from the sight, Dulsissia turns to Barthor. “Can you hand me the water, baby?”
Sighing as if greatly put upon, Barthor reaches out and hands her the water pitcher. “You know, I’m going to be the next to get the helmet. I’m not a baby, so maybe not refer to me as one?”
A completely irrational burst of anger flares up inside her and Dulsissia snaps her fingers at him. “Hey.” She snaps her fingers at the rest of them, gaining everyone’s attention. “I’m going to make something perfectly clear here and now. You? You are all my babies. All of you. I don’t care how old you are, how many helmets you put on, whatever right or wrong you do, whether you’re fifty and have babies of your own, even grandbabies, I don’t care; I’m going to call you my babies. Deal with it.”
Barthor flushes a deep red, Din blinks wide-eyed, Raga shrugs and Corin merely keeps eating as he resigned himself to his fate years ago. Paz… She has no idea how he responds. He looks at her, but the helmet hides his expression and he remains silent.
“I assume that includes me as well then?” Davarax drawls, leaning back in his chair. “Since you said ‘all of you’? Nice. I’m going to be the first baby ever with stubbles.”
That has the children laughing and Dulsissia to be the one blushing. She gathers herself and looks directly into his t-visor. “I guess so. Baby.”
The children laugh even more, but Davarax picks up on the suggestive tone of her voice and she can almost see him choke on his smugness. Hah.
At the end of the evening, Dulsissia makes sure to bundle up some of the food in a box that she hands to Paz by the door. “Here you go. I added some sweets too. Don’t tell the others.”
Paz huffs a faint laugh. He’s clearly spent time with Davarax too, by the sound of it. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Paz moves forward, slides his arms around her waist and hugs her close.
Closing her eyes, Dulsissia instantly leans down to wrap her own arms around him. “Welcome home, baby.” She whispers and her heart aches when she feels a faint shiver go through him.
And when the boy doesn’t let go, keeps holding on to her, a little too tight, Dulsissia has to fight the urge to try to pick Paz up and carry him like she’ll do to the smaller children.
Eventually Paz does let go, steps away and reaches out a hand, which Raga is quick to take and the children start to flood out of the room, until it is only Corin left, who starts cleaning off the table, and Dulsissia who walks over to the door to say good night to Davarax.
Leaning against the door frame, he reaches out and tucks a lock her hair behind her ear. “I really did miss you.” His voice so very soft and gentle.
Dulsissia struggles to look up at his t-visor, smiling. “Good.” She tugs lightly at the fabric just above his breastplate. “Because I missed you too. Are you okay? I saw the damage to your clothes.”
“Yeah, just minor injuries. Had to clean up a little rabble, but with Dez going through them like a hammerhead corvette, they weren’t a problem for long.”
Long enough for Davarax to be injured. Does Paz have scars too now? Dulsissia feels another rush of gratitude that they’d made it home. “You’re going to stay for a while now, right?”
“Absolutely.” Davarax’ gloved fingers come up to touch her lips for the briefest of seconds, then his hand move over to cup her face and he leans down so they can ever so gently touch foreheads, a modest touch in front of Corin’s suspicious eyes. “Good night, Dulcy.” He straightens and looks over at Corin. “Good night, Corin.”
“Good night,” Corin replies, “I’m glad you’re home again.”
“Me too.” Davarax replies, takes a final glance at Dulsissia and then walks back to his own room.
Knowing he’s right across the hall and yet also aware of how he needs to rest more than… anything else leaves Dulsissia squirming in her bed all night and very grumpy in the morning.
-
Her bad mood doesn’t get to last long. She and Corin have barely eaten breakfast before there is a knock on her door and she finds an uncharacteristically energetic Davarax.
“If you have something planned today, cancel it.” He blurts out.
Blinking wide-eyed, Dulsissia then raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”
Davarax turns to leave, but pauses and looks back at her. “And maybe tomorrow too. Yeah, cancel tomorrow too.”
He’s gone before she can ask any questions so she sends her son a quizzical look.
Corin looks equally puzzled and can merely shrug in response.
It’s about two hours later that Davarax appears again. He’s got a bag hanging on his right shoulder and the other children with bags of their own behind him. “We’re heading out.”
Curious, Corin wanders over to where Dulsissia is standing in the doorway and she automatically yanks him close so not get infected by whatever insanity has struck Davarax. “Out? Who? Where?”
“You, me, the kids.” Davarax gestures.
Dulsissia shakes her head, confused and increasingly worried. “But… it’s not allowed. Is it?”
“Not usually, no.” Davarax admits, gesturing her to come with them. “But I, uh, asked nicely.”
“We did it once before.” Raga pipes up, all smiles and excitement. “It was awesome!”
To her surprise, Dulsissia sees even Din is almost bouncing with happy energy. She looks over at her son, who is increasingly affected by the insanity despite her best efforts. He is grinning up at her with a hopeful look on his little face.
“Please, mommy? Please?”
“We’ll look after you two.” Paz declares.
Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who tilts his head a little and says; “Trust me?”
Sighing, she shrugs. “Okay.”
It’s unnerving to to leave the Covert with the kids in tow. Heading into Nevarro by herself is scary enough, which means Dulsissia is ready to fire her blaster at her own shadow if it so much as looks at the children wrong.
Davarax leads them out of the city, he seems relaxed and confident enough, and Dulsissia actually feels a hint of fondness when she sees the less-than-shiny ship that had brought her and her son to safety.
Din actually runs ahead and Davarax presses the button on his vambrace to lower the ramp for the boy. And of course, where Din goes, Corin follows.
“I don’t get his fascination with that ship.” Barthor drawls, before casting a quick glance up at Davarax. “No offence.”
Davarax hums. “You’re riding in the back for that one, kiddo.”
“Oh, come on!” Barthor whines and Raga cackles at his misfortune before she jumps up on Paz’ back and he carries her on board the ship.
The surprises continue when the Razor Crest do not set course for space but heads west and keeps going west. Dulsissia peeks out the transparisteel, trying to tell herself not to be worried that Davarax is letting Din fly the ship more or less by himself and is fascinated by how the volcanic landscape turns more and more green and lush. Soon there are rivers and trees and even animal life.
It’s beautiful.
“Do you see it?” Davarax asks, standing next to to the pilot seat, one hand on Din’s shoulder and one hand on Corin’s shoulder as he stands next to the Mandalorian; mute with awe.
“I see it.” Din replies, flicking some switches and pressing some buttons. “Going in for landing.”
Davarax turns his head and shouts to the ones in the cargo area: “Buckle in, womp rats! We’re about to land!”
In her usual seat, Dulsissia flinches a little at the loudness but waves off Davarax’ sheepish apology.
She’s curious now. What is this place?
The landing is bumpy and a little scary, she can see Davarax about to intervene, but Din does manage to set the ship down without killing them all.
Outside the ship, they step into the gentle sunlight and the smell of damp soil and Dulsissia is amazed. She’s never seen such lush greenery. This is very different from the sterile enviroment of Seswenna, where everything is controlled and dictated by humans and what they deem to be in fashion, the polluted city she and Corin had met Davarax in or the dust-covered Nevarro.
Davarax picks up his bag and hers before gingerly nudging her with his shoulder, “Come.” and walks off.
She follows.
-
They come to a halt in a clearing and Davarax starts setting up what looks to be a camp site. He sets the children to different chores and only gives an absent sigh when he kneels next to what will probably become a fire place. “Paz, can you make sure,” Raga runs by him and climbs up the trunk of a nearby tree, “she doesn’t do that…”
Paz shrugs. “She’ll be fine. She got this.”
Davarax hums, not convinced but not visibly surprised by the incident or the response.
A little lost, Dulsissia stands at the outskirts of the site. She tries to hold on to Corin, but that only lasts for a couple of minutes before Corin frees himself to run after the others who take off with determination to finish their chore first. Watching in mild distress, she isn’t sure what to do with herself.
“Having you ever camped outside before?” Davarax asks.
Dulsissia shakes her head. The thought is a bit terrifying, but then she remembers that this last year she has been doing countless things she’s never done before. She can do this too. Taking a breath, she steps forward. “How can I help?”
The hours rush by. Davarax seems to be able to predict whatever madness they get up to, but Dulsissia struggles to keep up with the children exploring everything from tiny bugs to the massive creatures flying overhead, arguing, wrestling and climbing and generally getting incredibly dirty. Yet, she hasn’t heard them laugh so much in… ever?
“We should try to round up the rampant blurrgs and head back to the camp site.” Davarax says some time during mid-day. “We need to feed them before they try to eat each other…”
Dulsissia makes a thoughtful hum. Paz is somewhat clean, but Din and Barthor look like part mud-horns, while both Raga and Corin are more mud than child at the moment. “Yes, but… there is one thing we should do first.”
Davarax looks over at her. “What?”
She grins.
Fifteen minutes later, she wades into the river, still trying to tie up her hair, and proves to the others that stripping down to your underwear and going into the water isn’t going to kill them. Dulsissia learned to swim at a very young age, but she’d never been allowed to bring Corin out to teach him, and it sounds like the Covert children haven’t seen much of rivers and oceans at all.
The river here isn’t too deep, about waist height on her, and the temperature is cool but not cold.
Corin is the first to enter, following his mother like an obedient baby-porg, and once he is in; Din has to follow despite being clearly anxious of the liquid death trap. Raga will not be the accused of cowardice, so she stomps in next and grabs an anxious hold of Din. Barthor hesitates for a long time, but eventually he’s too curious to resist and joins them as well and then the splashing begins.
Davarax and Paz are the only ones who do not enter the water at all, despite the laughter and the splashing and encouragements from the others. Dulsissia suspects Davarax stays on land to keep Paz company.
After almost one hour, she wades back up on land, still laughing at a rather successful splash attack on both Corin and Din as they were trying to gang up on her. “Davarax?” While Paz is sitting cross-legged on the riverbank, Davarax is standing partially turned away and staring at the forest.
Instantly worried, Dulsissia inches over to him. “What’s wrong? Is there something out there?”
“No. No, nothing wrong. Everything is fine.”
Things are clearly not fine. He’s really tense and refuses to stop staring at the forest. “Then why-”
“Listen, if the kids weren’t here, I would be looking at you. Trust me, I would be looking. I would be looking so much. I would not stop looking. But they are here and… so I can’t. Okay?”
Oh.
Stupidly flattered, Dulsissia reaches out and gives him an apologetic pat on the arm. “I’ll get dressed.”
Davarax replies with a tense nod.
After they eat, Dulsissia is in the middle of trying to land a raspberry on the shrieking and flailing Barthor’s neck after he called her old when Davarax orders them up on their feet and to huddle together. He lifts his vambrace and declares it is time for a new holo-picture considering that their family has grown.
It’s a wonderful idea, it only saddens Dulsissia a bit when Davarax seems surprised when she insist on him being in the holo as well. Against all rules, he sets the vambrace on the ground and it scans them all together.
Dulsissia’s big challenge comes when dark has settled and the exhausted children are piled up together next to the camp fire, so deep into sleep that a Star Destroyer couldn’t wake them up. She tries to arrange her blanket on the ground, gingerly removing stick after nasty stick and pointy rock that is determined to poke her everywhere, but sleeping on the ground is not going to be easy.
“Having trouble?” Davarax asks, sounding amused. He’s sitting with his back against the trunk of a tree with his legs stretched out in front of himself, absently whittling away at a small twig.
“A bit.” Dulsissia admits with a sigh and gets up on her knees to stare down at her blanket.
“Hey…” Davarax calls for her to look his way and he sheaths the blade before tossing the twig away and nodding her over. “Come here?”
Smiling a little, Dulsissia gathers up her blanket and makes her way over. She settles next to him and as he lifts his arm to fit her under it, Dulsissia arranges the blanket to cover their legs.
Davarax does his laughter-huff. “I don’t need-”
“Shush. We’re sharing.” Dulsissia states, tucking their legs in before leaning back against him. She’s childishly pleased to feel his arm around her.
The ground is still hard, Davarax’ armor even more so, and still she can hear herself make a satisfied sigh just from being close to him again and being worn out from the day. She feels… happy. Content. “Today was nice. Really nice. Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Davarax says in a solemn voice, quietly, for her ears. “My only comfort while being away was the fact that my kids were in good hands.” He sighs. “Usually when I get back, they... One time I had to spend three hours persuading Din to come out from his hiding place. Do you know this is the first time I’ve come back to smiles instead of tears?”
Dulsissia closes her eyes for a moment, determined not ruin the moment with her tears, and she takes his hand between hers. “It’s like you said; they are good kids. They are. I’m just sad not everyone can see that.” She lifts his hand and presses her lips to the glove. “And I’m so very happy they have you.”
“Us.” Davarax pulls her a little closer. “They have us.”
-
It takes a couple of days for him to catch up on his other obligations to the Covert and only then does Davarax tell Dulsissia to appear thirty minutes before the children, just like that very first time.
“Okay, show me what Decco has taught you.” Davarax says as he walks into the training room in front of her. “Impress me, Dulcy.”
She doesn’t really think. She just acts, assuming he’s prepared. So when her foot shoves hard at the back of his knee, made easy due to her walking behind him, and Davarax goes sprawling with a squawk; Dulsissia is horrified and drops to her knees next to him. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Davarax rolls over on his back and sighs. “Nothing hurt but my pride.” He then actually laughs a little. “Next time I will clarify to wait until we have actually started the lesson.”
Dulsissia awkwardly tucks her hair behind her ear and tries a smile. “At least I managed to knock you down this time.”
“You knocked me off my feet the second you ran to protect your son instead of just fleeing when I shot those men in the alleyway.” Davarax replies in a fond voice. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since.”
Dulsissia’s heart does a flip. It hasn’t done that while he was gone. It feels nice. And a light touch makes her look down and she sees how he is reaching out two fingers on the hand next to her to brush them lightly back and forth across her knee. The contact feels even nicer. She remembers...
She looks down at the floor and her face burns. “Maybe… Maybe we don’t have to train today? Maybe we could… hide in your room for a bit? Do you want that?”
“No.” Davarax replies.
The embarrassment triples and a sting of humiliation hurts bad. She’d just assumed… Her mistake.
Davarax hoists himself up on his left elbow and his right hand comes up to cup the side of her face. “I need more. Less than thirty minutes? It’s not enough. It’s nowhere enough for me. I can’t. I’m sorry, Dulcy, but I need more. I need hours. I need to love you, hold you, savour you...”
His voice is raw with that very need, and the heat in Dulsissia’s face has suddenly nothing to do with embarrassment of humiliation. It feels like all of her is burning.
She lifts her gaze and looks at his t-visor. “Tonight then?”
Davarax’ breath hitches and he only barely manages a faint nod. “If you want to?”
Dulsissia breaks into an embarrassed laugh, having trouble believing this man is real. “I’m the one throwing myself at you here.”
“Technically you kicked me to the floor.” Davarax offers as a weak joke.
They both end up laughing and she gives his arm a half-hearted slap. “And I said I was sorry. Now get up. We have some training to do.”
Davarax grunts. “I thought I was the teacher and you obeyed my every word?”
“You are and I did, but that only ended up with you eating floor, so maybe we should change it up a little?” Dulsissia sends him a challenging look and that finally gets him up on his feet with the snort of an offended bantha.
Suddenly he’s all business and no play. Dulsissia tries several times, but she fails to send him crashing to the floor again.
Later, when the children emerge, eager to train, she stays to watch. She’s amazed at the progress her son has made since they arrived her. He is not as advanced and smooth as the others, but even without maternal bias involved, Dulsissia can see that Corin is becoming quite the skilled fighter. He’s got talent.
As for the other kids; Barthor lacks strength, but his speed is unmatched. Raga is quite the brawler, willing to take punches if it means winning a fight and absolutely fearless.
The only thing that saddens Dulsissia is the change in Paz. He still supervises the others, corrects them when they do something wrong, but when his fist connects with Corin’s cheekbone and he knocks him down; he does not apologize.
She wonders what Paz has seen, what he went through last year. Some scars aren’t physical.
After training, Corin asks if Din can eat at their place and Dulsissia nods. It’s the same question, every day, and she always gives the same answer. But today it also gives her the opportunity to ask a question of her own.
“Can I ask you something?” Dulsissia leans against the wall next to where Davarax is standing, prodding at his vambrace.
“Sure.” He replies, not looking up from whatever he’s doing.
“Din’s parents. His Mandalorian parents. Why did you choose them?”
Davarax pauses and finally looks up at her. “I didn’t. I mean, I agreed to it. I don’t know her too well, but I’ve served with his father in the Fighting Corps. He’s a loyal man. A good Mandalorian.”
“Din is not happy there.”
Davarax sighs and looks over at where the boys are disappearing out the door. “I know.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Dulsissia asks. “Or, is there anything I can do?”
“I’ll talk to them.”
-
It’s almost funny. Dulsissia would laugh if she wasn’t so frustrated. In her youth, she had waited impatiently for Antonia to fall asleep so she could sneak out to meet boys. Now, a mother herself, she is waiting for her son to fall asleep so she can sneak out to meet a man.
No, not just ‘a man’. Davarax. Her heart does another flip at the very thought.
“Mom, are you okay?” Corin asks, a little concerned, bless his soul. He’s sitting in his bed, reading, blissfully calm after a long day of hard work pretending to be a bounty hunter with the others.
Dulsissia looks over at him, realizes she’s forgotten to pretend to be reading as well and is just tapping a nail restlessly at the datapad instead. She puts on a smile. “I’m fine, baby. I’m just thinking about what to get you for your birthday, that’s all. You keep reading.”
Corin beams her a happy smile before obediently going back to his story.
Dulsissia closes her eyes and wills time to speed up.
Time seems to drag on even more slowly, but after about a million standard years, Dulsissia finally dares to slip out of bed and tiptoe out of the room.
Her heart is racing and her pulse is thumping in her veins and she’s not even in the same room as Davarax! At least this time she’s had the good sense to put on something more flattering than the white sack, plus made sure her hair doesn’t look like the backside of a wookiee. And when she gingerly knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Davarax without his armor, merely his clothes, she knows he’s been thinking about this as much as she has.
She steps inside the room, the door closes behind her and for a second she and Davarax are just looking at each other. Unbearable hunger pulsating between them. A craving so strong Dulsissia doesn’t even want to resist it. She wants to be loved, held and savoured.
The second she steps towards him, he moves towards her. When her hands reach up and her arms go around his neck, his hands reach down and take a hold of her hips, lifting her up like she weighs nothing. Holding on to each other like they die if they didn’t, he carries her towards the bed.
Davarax had said hours and he had meant it. Dulsissia is amazed to find his hunger doesn’t stop between the bouts of lovemaking that leave her gasping for air. Instead she shivers with soft happiness as he trails his bare hands over her naked skin and whispers his love for all of her, body and soul. There is actual reverence in both of his voice and his touch. He sounds like a man in love.
Dulsissia gets to learn him as well and memorizes it all. He has two new scars. His neck is really sensitive. He goes weak when her lips touches his skin. And she can almost lull him to sleep by gently running her fingers up and down his back for a little while. She loves him so much it hurts.
An interesting revelation comes when Dulsissia declares that those tiny refresher showers could not fit two people, not in a billion standard years, and Davarax proves her wrong. Now she can never shower again without blushing…
For the last hour, all they do is lie curled up together in his bed, sharing each other’s warmth, watching with lazy satisfaction as their fingers play together in a slow, pointless dance of touching, braiding, stroking.
Content. There’s that word again.
Dulsissia is sad to leave, by the time she’s by the door they have already been through three kov’nyns and she pauses a final time to burrow her face to his neck and inhale the scent of him before forcing herself to leave. Davarax doesn’t let go until he absolutely has to.
They will have this again, Dulsissia tells herself. Don’t worry. They will definitely have this again.
And while her own bed feels lonely and cold, it still doesn’t take long before Dulsissia falls into an exhausted and satisfied sleep.
Three hours later, Corin has to call her name twice before she reluctantly opens her eyes and forces herself out of bed to start the day. She’s still half-asleep when they eat breakfast.
“Are you sure you’re okay, mom?” Corin asks, frowning. “You look tired.”
Dulsissia hides her smile behind her second cup of caf. “I’m okay, sweetie. I promise. I’m more than okay. I’m really good. And to prove it, I am going to bake those sugar cookies today and you guys can have as many as you want after training. I’ll pack some for Paz. How does that sound?”
Corin lights up, beaming with delight. “That sounds awesome. You are the best, mom.”
“So I’ve been told.” Dulsissia mumbles with smug delight, sipping more caf.
She plans her day thoroughly, making sure to have time free when she knows Davarax will have time off and hopes that maybe they can spend time together. One of the first things she does is grab her cookies and head up to Nevarro while Corin and Din are working on some project with Barthor.
It’s kind of funny how several of her regular buyers are some of the scruffiest looking bounty hunters in the city, but Dulsissia knows they are a lot kinder than they look.
She does not expect, after finishing a transaction, to hear a horribly familiar voice.
“Dulsissia?”
Her blood runs ice cold, fear clamps around her heart, and Dulsissia needs a moment before she slowly turns around and faces the one who had spoken. It’s him. How is it possible? How did he find her? “Vecon.”
-
Short, dark hair combed back into slick order, the same cold grey eyes as Macero, the younger and less handsome brother, Vecon Valentis studies her from head to toe and then snorts a laugh. “It is you. What are you doing here on Nevarro? Wow. You look a mess, Dulsissia. How the mighty Motti has fallen, eh?” Vecon scouts the surroundings. “Where is the kid?”
Cold sweat is breaking out on her skin. Dulsissia tries to keep a neutral expression on her face. “I ran out of funds. Couldn’t feed him. So I left him on a different planet with some kind souls and told them I’d be back for him.”
Vecon looks at her, digests the words and ends up shrugging. “Oh well. We’ll find him. If he’s still alive.”
She will never let him get his hands on Corin. Never.
Dulsissia turns to run, but four storm troopers are now standing there. She swallows hard, forcing the panic away, before turning back to face her former brother-in-law.
“Don’t bother trying to run.” Vecon drawls, picking up a package with cookies from her small make-shift table and he studies them. “My brother wants you back and I would hate to have to mess up that pretty face of yours.” He drops the cookies to the ground and smirks. “Are you going to come nicely? Please say yes.”
Dulsissia knows he’s hoping she’ll say no. While Vecon has nothing personally against her and probably won’t harm her unprovoked, she has wronged his brother and that cannot be forgiven.
She could try to run, but odds are against her. Five of them, one of her. She has a weapon, but so do they and while they most likely wouldn’t shoot to kill, it would be easier to escape without a blaster wound to slow her down. Also, even if she did manage to run, where would she run to? There is no way she will lead them to the Covert.
No, better go with them and find a way to escape before they get to Macero.
Dulsissia sticks her chin out. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Vecon smiles and steps forward, his boot crunching the cookies under it, reaching out to twirl a blonde lock of her hair around his index finger. “Excellent.” He glances down her body. “Hand over your weapons, please.”
Of course he won’t let her keep her weapons, but Dulsissia still hesitates. Davarax had given her these weapons. They were gifts from him. That makes them precious to her. “What if I promise not to use them?”
Vecon chuckles and gestures to the storm troopers, who don’t hesitate to grab her arms and start pawing all over her to look for weapons. Fighting against them is pointless, but she still struggles.
“Bring her.” Vecon orders once the blaster and blade are claimed and they proclaim her safe.
Dulsissia tugs angrily to free herself from the soldiers’ grip on her arms, but she walks with them.
Get them away from the Covert. Get them away from her loved ones. Then escape. Somehow.
A meagre comfort is how the many eyes watching this will at least inform Davarax of what happened and her son will be cared for.
A massive vehicle is waiting at the outskirts of Nevarro and Dulsissia is brought on board with Vecon and the storm troopers to join another group already seated there. Every soldier present is watching her with curiosity, more than one white helmet tilts and gives them an almost innocent look of inquisitiveness, but she knows these are people who wouldn’t kill her if ordered to do so.
The drive is bumpy and uncomfortable, but Dulsissia barely notices. She sits, back straight and stares emptily ahead at the wall, thinking about what Corin will think when she doesn’t come back. The Covert will have no trouble uncovering what has happened to her, but the thought of the fear her son will feel is killing her. His father is suddenly so very close and he has lost his mother for who knows how long? Forever?
No. Not forever.
Dulsissia will find her way back to him. To them. She will.
They arrive at the base and she is brought inside by the ones who had dragged her out of Nevarro. Vecon is talking on some communication device, clearly rescheduling his plans as he has something more important to do; bring back his brother’s property.
Shortly after that, she’s brought on board a huge imperial ship and locked away in a small, bare room clearly designed for prisoners a lot more dangerous than her.
Dulsissia sits down on the hard bench meant to be a bed, draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. She doesn’t cry. She refuses to cry. She won’t give Vecon that.
A meal is brought to her twice a day, but otherwise she is left to slowly rot from boredom and fear.
Then comes the day when an officer steps inside her cell and holds out a bundle of clothes towards her.
“You are to wear this.” The woman orders with cold distaste. “The Colonel will see you in fifteen minutes. Make yourself presentable.”
-
The doors slide open and Dulsissia steps into the room where Vecon is sitting. The table in front of him is covered with all kinds of luxury food that Dulsissia used to love and hasn’t tasted since she left home. The smirk on Vecon’s face says he suspects this fact.
Forcing herself to smile, Dulsissia walks over to the chair drawn out for her at the opposite side of the table.
“Better.” Vecon says, lifting a fancy looking glass with red liquid and giving her a mock toast. “Much better.”
He’s referring to the dress she’s wearing. A beautiful and smooth thing in a glorious teal colour.
Sitting down, holding on to her smile through pure will power, Dulsissia can’t hide the anger in her eyes. “I never pictured you for a man of fashion, Vecon?”
“I’m not.” The man confirms, taking a sip. “But I can’t have my brother’s wife wandering around looking like something… cheap.”
The insult burns. It shouldn’t, she knows that. There was nothing wrong with the clothes she had been wearing. But the words burn and she feels angry with herself. “I’m sure he will be very grateful.”
“Oh, I know he will be.” Vecon puts the glass down and picks at something on his plate. “He’s been very determined to find you, Dulcy.”
“Don’t call me that.” Dulsissia growls with such intensity and anger it surprises him.
Dropping whatever he was holding between his fingers, Vecon goes from surprise to amusement. Chuckling, he sits up straighter and pays actual attention to her. “Well, well, has the loth-kitten grown claws? Was that attitude I heard? Not just snooty Motti condescension, but actual attitude?”
Dulsissia gives him a sour smile.
Vecon shrugs and gestures for her to eat. “I like my women spicy, so I’m pleased to hear it. Macero, as you know, won’t like that one bit.” He takes another sip of his glass. “I’ve sent him a message and expect to hear back from him any day now. He’s on a mission, I cannot disclose his whereabouts as it is top secret, but I think he’ll take some time off to greet you on your return.”
Fear gnaws in Dulsissia’s belly. She stares at her plate, unable to eat a single thing.
“There is one thing I need to know.” Vecon drones on. “Where is the kid?”
“I told you.”
“Yeah, you did.” Vecon sets his grey stare in her. “And now I want you to tell the truth.”
Dulsissia just stares at her plate.
“Don’t make this difficult for the both of us.” Vecon says. “I will find him, eventually. You know that. I’m inclined to say he’s back on Nevarro, but then I also think you might have been more reluctant to leave if he was. Maybe I should level the place just to be sure?”
Closing her eyes, trying to block out his words, Dulsissia feels sick to her stomach. Vecon is capable of doing just that. She knows he is. Not merely because he has the soldiers and firepower to do it, but because he’d enjoy doing it.
Macero and Vecon are frightfully similar in many ways, but where Macero is cold and efficient, Vecon is less clever and more randomly cruel. It’s what has kept him from advancing further in the army, unlike his brother who has met the Emperor himself.
Macero wouldn’t care if an orphanage caught fire as long as it benefited him, Vecon would stay to listen to the screams.
“Just tell me, Dulsissia.” Vecon says with a friendly smile so fake it wouldn’t fool a blind man. “My brother wants his son back. He misses him. How could you take Corin away from his father?”
“Burn Nevarro to the ground. Bomb the planet from orbit. I don’t care.” Dulsissia bluffs, raising her gaze to meet his with cold contempt. “You won’t find him there.”
Clicking his tongue, Vecon studies her for a while and then gestures to the guards. “Take her back to her cell.”
Dulsissia gets up.
“And you can leave the knife.” Vecon says, not looking up from piling food on to his own plate.
Clenching her jaw, Dulsissia places the butter knife back on the table, turns and walks out of the room.
-
How many days has it been? It’s hard to tell in this coffin of a room. Dulsissia spends the time either lying on the bench or pacing back and forth the two and a half steps it takes from covering the distance from one wall to the next.
When two guards come to fetch her, Dulsissia is almost grateful. Her mind is tormenting her with all kinds of scenarios of what her boy must be going through so even Vecon is a welcome distraction.
They bring her to a different place this time. The door opens to reveal some kind of communication room and she sees Vecon standing there, in the middle of the room with his back towards her, and Dulsissia braces herself. Will it be more threats? Bargaining this time, maybe?
What she doesn’t expect it Vecon stepping aside and revealing Macero’s holo-image.
“Dulsissia.” Macero’s voice greets her.
“Macero.” Dulsissia whispers back. She can’t move. Can’t look away.
“I have been looking for you.” Macero says, his voice is flat but his eyes are angry. “I’ve been very worried. You can imagine my relief when Vecon sent me a message that he’d found you.”
Vecon grins.
Dulsissia says nothing.
“He also tells me you will not give up the location of my son.” Macero continues.
His son? Dulsissia feels a flicker of fury burn in her belly. He hadn’t shown one ounce of interest in ‘his’ son until there was talk about sending him away. Macero had been pleased when she’d told him she was pregnant, but she’d been more or less on her own for the next nine months except for when they were posing for her family. Macero had shown up again a mere hour after Corin was born, inspected the child and nodded with approval before leaving again.
Growing up, Corin had been desperate for his father’s attention and time, but he never gave it to him. “Do you even remember his name?” Dulsissia can’t hide the bitterness in her voice.
“Of course I remember his name” Macero does not take the bait. “Tell me where he is.”
“No.”
Macero stares at her with those cruel eyes of his and then turns his attention to Vecon. “Bring her to Seswenna. Stay with her and make sure she gets a lot of rest. She probably shouldn’t talk to anyone. It’s been a tough experience for my dear wife and she needs time to recover.”
“Understood.” Vecon replies, like a good soldier. He always did whatever his brother told him to do.
“Don’t do this, Macero.” Dulsissia asks, taking a step forward. “Just let me go. You won’t ever see me again. Tell them I died or something.”
“What I’m going to do is find my son.” Macero replies with cold contempt. “And you, my dear wife, will stop your pathetic whining and go back home. You are going to stay there, put on a happy face and give me sons and daughters.”
Exhaling sharply, Dulsissia shakes her head. “I’m not some pawn in your plan, Macero.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Macero doesn’t even blink. “That is exactly what you are. Our children will be Mottis and not even your family can deny that. They may dislike me, but they can’t turn their back on their own blood.”
She hates herself as frustrated and frightened tears well up in her eyes, but Dulsissia can’t stop it. “I won’t be a part of it. I refuse. Do you hear me?”
Vecon snickers and for a second there is almost pity in Macero’s eyes before they go cold again and he gives his final orders to Vecon and the holo-image blinks out.
Shivering, Dulsissia stares at the floor and tries to remember how to breathe. She is brought back to reality when something takes a hold of her chin and Vecon lifts her face to grin down at her.
“Let’s get you home, Motti Princess.”
Fury and disgust flares up in her and Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Always obeying orders from big brother. Always such a good little boy, aren’t you, Vecon? Trying and trying, but never as good as your brother. Never clever enough, never skilled enough, so you suck up to Macero and happily do his dirty work.”
Vecon flinches with anger and abruptly backhands her across the face.
It hurts. It snaps her face to the side, almost knocks her off balance, and Dulsissia can feel her cheekbone burn with what will become a bruise. But it also gives her the excuse and opportunity to spin back and ram her elbow with all of her might into Vecon’s face in a move that would have made her Mandalorian teachers proud.
She is rewarded with a very satisfying crunch, the sound of his nose breaking, and Vecon’s surprised bellow of pain, before the guards grab her and restrain her before she can do any more damage.
“Get her back to her cell!” Vecon howls.
Dulsissia doesn’t fight them.
-
She spends the next eternity staring up at the ceiling, lying on the hard bench and going over every possible escape attempt she can conjure up. From being on the ship itself, to the transport to Seswenna to her old home. She knows that house far better than Vecon. She can get away. The big problem will be getting off the planet.
It happens when one of the guards is entering the cell to hand her a plate with food.
The ship gives a violent shake, there is the sound of a distant explosion, followed by several others, and soon red lights are flashing and alarms are blaring out in the hallway.
“What is going on?” The guard asks a storm trooper running by the cell.
“We’re under attack!” Is the reply.
Dulsissia sits up. They’re being attacked? Could this be her chance to escape?
Before she gets the chance to do anything, the guard runs out and closes the door behind them, but Dulsissia doesn’t give up. The ship continues to shake, there are more explosions, and she starts to pace her cell. She has to be ready. This might be her moment. All she needs is the opportunity…
The door opens again and this time two guards run in to grab her. Vecon is standing out in the hallway and he’s not looking pleased. In fact, he’s sending almost nervous glances towards the back of the ship.
“What is going on?” Dulsissia asks, pulled out of her cell by the guards.
“We are leaving.” Vecon replies. Oh, he is definitely nervous. And don’t those explosions sound a little closer now?
“Why?” Dulsissia tugs to free herself but yet again in vain. “What is happening?”
As if to answer her question, there is the sound of blaster fire and she can see the flashes of light in the distance.
“He’s here, sir.” One of the guards says.
“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” Vecon snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”
The guards run forward to join the others fighting, while Vecon grabs Dulsissia’s arm and tugs her close. She notes that he’s also drawn his blaster.
Down in the hallway, the fighting is coming closer. The ceiling light at the very end gets taken out by an errant blaster shot so there are only slight flashes of what is going on when a weapon is being fired. The storm troopers are being pushed back by whomever is approaching.
Vecon slowly lifts the blaster and places the muzzle to Dulsissia’s head.
She hardly notices, can only stare as she sees a flash of blue armor amidst the chaos in front of her.
With deadly accuracy with his blaster shots, a lone figure is making his way towards them. A flick of a wrist sends a grenade into a room to take out some troopers popping in and out to fire at their opponent. A harsh kick sends a helmet flying from a trooper already on the floor trying to reach for their blaster nearby.
Davarax. It’s him. How? She doesn’t care. It’s him. He’s here and that is all that matters.
A group of guards emerge from a room behind him while the Mandalorian is focused on two death troopers in front of him, but before Dulsissia can open her mouth to scream a warning, Davarax activates his flame thrower and turns in a calculated circle to engulf them all. He doesn’t wait for the last trooper to fall before he’s already moving forward, lifting his blaster to shoot at his next target.
Davarax is completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, doesn’t react to the ones bouncing off his armor, merely keeps stalking towards them and takes them down, one by one. He comes with the smell of fire, blood and death.
A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. The Mandalorian then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it.
The blade flies through the air and takes down the one guard left standing.
The red lights are still flashing, alarms are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is standing in front of Dulsissia and Vecon.
“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”
“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulsissia says, eyes on Davarax’ visor. There is blood spattered all over his helmet and armor. If death had taken shape as a human, this is what it would look like. His quiet, looming figure would have terrified her if she didn’t know the heart behind it. He’s no threat to her. To everyone else on the ship, yes, but not to her.
Vecon draws a sharp, startled breath, and his finger is about to tighten on the trigger, but before he can squeeze it; Davarax’ grip engulfs all of Vecon’s hand and twists it, making him drop the weapon with a pained yelp.
Dulsissia breaks free and takes up position next to Davarax, staring at Vecon bent over in awkward twist due to the grip on his hand. “Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. If he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”
Vecon sneers. “Tell him yourself.” And with his other hand, he rams a blade into Davarax’ side.
The Mandalorian jolts with a pained grunt and Vecon has one moment of triumph before Davarax ends his life with a well aimed blaster shot and lets him fall to the floor.
Dulsissia ducks under Davarax’ outstretched arm still aiming the blaster at Vecon to get to where the blade is embedded in him. “Oh. Oh, no. What-”
Davarax yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to make her look up at his t-visor. “We have to go.”
His voice. His perfect voice. It’s really him. She nods.
Davarax bends down, picks up Vecon’s blaster and gives it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?”
She nods again.
They move and Dulsissia makes sure to fire at everyone who appears behind them while Davarax violently and without mercy ploughs through the storm troopers piling up in front of them to prevent them from escaping. Once they finally step inside the large hangar bay, Davarax turns, wraps one arm around Dulsissia’s waist and then they are flying up towards the ceiling.
A couple of blaster shots follow them, but mostly the chaos and destruction and sudden lack of leadership seems to have stunned the crew of Vecon’s ship, which makes it almost easy to climb into the vent and move through it. They emerge in a docking tube and Dulsissia exhales a weak laugh when she sees the side of the now beloved Razor Crest at the end of it.
“Go.” Davarax nudges her, then follows with blaster raised to cover their backs while they run towards his ship.
Dulsissia half expects Vecon’s ship to fire at them or at least pursue, but the big ship lies dead in the darkness and the Razor Crest can detach and make a run for it without any trouble. Yet it still takes over thirty standard minutes before Davarax stops pushing the engines as well as constantly checking the radar, only then does he finally lean back in the seat with a strained exhale.
Dulsissia unbuckles herself and runs over to hover next to him. She sees he’s bleeding in several places, his clothing is singed and ripped, the armor has countless new dents and scratches. Reaching out, her hands move from place to place and hover uselessly. Where to begin?
She makes a surprised squeak when Davarax suddenly pulls her close and hugs her tight.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulsissia says, trying to push herself away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”
“In a moment.” Davarax says, not letting go, whispering; “Just… Please.”
And that is what breaks her.
Not threats or horrors, not death and destruction, but those softy whispered words.
Dulsissia wraps her arms around him, lets him ease her up on his lap and curls as close to him as possible while he holds her as close as possible.
#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper#Dulsissia Motti#Davarax#Baby Corin#Fearsome Four#Mandorin AU#what if
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Start Again - Chapter Three (Din Djarin x Reader)
SUMMARY: Din struggles internally with the loss of Grogu and finds work in the woman that employs him to find her son.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: discussion of nightmares and discussion of child loss.
Author’s Note: This chapter sits at about 2.5k words and is told from Din’s point of view. Feel free to reblog and comment :)
CHAPTER THREE - THE REMINDER
The first light from the twin suns peers through the open hatch of the Idrionna. Din briefly glances over at the girl, asleep in the cot he offered. Her face is peaceful, but he still remembers waking up to her crying out in her sleep earlier in the night.
She had mentioned her broken memories. When Din had first laid eyes on her, he could tell that she had been through hell and back. What kind of hell he didn’t know, but she had identified the dark saber on his belt. Most others he had come across hardly had a clue of what kind of weapon he was wielding. Even Din himself was unsure of the weapon. He only knew that Bo-Katan wanted it more than he did and yet she refused his offer to just take it from him.
It needed to be won in combat, he had been informed. At the same time, he was vulnerable. His Creed was broken, helmetless, and just having let go of Grogu. Bo-Katan only saw an opportunity in his time of weakness, and he needed to leave, to get some distance between the two of them. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to defend himself over some saber.
The girl mentioning her son only tugged at what he had just lost. He had promised himself he would move on, find work and throw himself into only work. Instead, he had seen the same look in her eyes that he had seen in himself. Desperation.
A change in her breathing caught his attention. She was waking up. She blinks, the light disturbing her.
“It’s dawn,” she says. Sitting up, she looks up at him, “I hope I didn’t disturb you last night?”
You did, Din thinks. It was no different than when Grogu was fussy during the night. Most of the time the kid just missed his company and Din would indulge him, even sleeping in his helmet to not break his Creed. He debates on whether it’s worth keeping his helmet on, Grogu had seen him without his helmet. Still, it’s his belief to honor his fallen brothers and sisters and to remain true to his Creed. Whatever was left of it.
Hearing her cries last night only made him debate it longer. Would she have even seen him in the darkness of the ship? Ask him to make the same choice a year and a half ago and he would’ve thought himself crazy. There were no exceptions to the Creed, he could not remove his helmet in front of a living thing, even in darkness. By the time he had made his choice to pull on his helmet, her cries had stopped, and she had settled the nightmare herself.
“You didn’t,” he lies. “Did you…did you have a nightmare last night?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately, “I saw him again. He was younger this time. No more than three. I think it’s when his abilities started showing,” she trails off, distracting by the frayed fabric of her pants.
Din pauses. Abilities, a word he had used to describe Grogu’s unexplained powers. The Force, as Ahsoka had told him. Grogu was off receiving the training he needed to master his powers, to become a Jedi, like Ahsoka. And Luke Skywalker.
“Do you remember anything else?” he asks her. She shakes her head, and he nods. He wants to comfort her, he knows her pain, but he suppresses the feeling. He’s merely transportation and a high-end detective for her. She’s not looking for a therapist. “There’s a refresher just down that way, feel free to use it. Peli’s expecting us to leave soon. I’ll see if she has any information.”
She nods, scooping her belongings into her arms as she stands from the cot. He watches her go and the way she carries herself, the quiet pad of her feet disappearing down the hallway. He turns to walk to the center of the hanger, approaching Peli and her droids. She distributes a stack of cards amongst the group, before settling on her stack.
“Where you headed now, Mando?” the woman asks, licking her finger as she places a card down to start the game.
“I don’t know yet. She’s,” he pauses in his words, unsure of how else to describe the girl. “she’s seen some things. In her dreams. Says she has a son, somewhere out there. I’m not even sure where to start but—”
“She reminds you of the womp rat?” Peli finishes, licking her thumb as she lazily places a card down in the pile. “You know I miss him, used to keep me company when you were off doing Mando things…” she trailed off, mumbling to herself as a droid places a card down to counter her move.
He brushes off the comment on Grogu, instead focusing his attention on the girl. “The nightmares she describes, I think that’s just the beginning of something more.”
Peli hums at his statement. At first, Din thinks she’s only stringing him along, pretending to pay attention so she can focus more on her game. Then she sits back and places her cards down.
“Don’t peek,” she warns her pack of droids. “She sought you out for your help. You’re the bounty hunter here, there have probably been times you’ve found clues from worse situations.”
He watches as she marches to her office, digging around in her desk, searching for something. A quick look and it appeared to be a junk pile of old holopads and datacards. She finds what she’s looking for and shoves it in his direction.
Taking the datapad, he stares at the woman as she returns to her card game.
“Am I supposed to know what this is for?” Din asks, looking over it to examine if it’s usable or not.
“Datapad—”
“I know what it is, Peli.”
Unphased by his interruption, Peli continues, “she can use it as a journal, write down what she remembers from her dreams. Start adding the dreams together and you line up her memories. Why don’t you explain that to her right now?”
Din turns and the girl is approaching the small circle of droids. She looks better, the soot from Tatooine gone from her skin. He can see it in the way she walks toward the group that she seems to feel better. The travel alone most likely took a toll on her, who knew the last time she traveled between planets.
She’s still, however, wearing the same clothes she slept in. Something that resembled a poncho draped over her shoulders, covering a cotton shirt and protecting her from the twin suns. Worn work pants and leather boots. Din makes a mental note that more clothing may be good for her. The shops on Tatooine wouldn’t do, they’d need to find a more suitable planet for her traveling needs. It was good she traveled light, but the more Din thinks about it, she’s only traveling light because it’s all she has.
“Explain what?” she says, looking between Din and Peli.
Peli returns her focus to her cards, leaving the explaining to Din. He grumbles, glad that the vocoder doesn’t pick up on the noise. He glances at the girl’s confused expression before handing her the datapad.
“It’ll be good to log the nightmares you have. That way we can start to piece together what you do remember in hopes it will give us a clue on where to start.” Din explains, watching her as she tapped the screen, illuminating her face in blue.
“Okay,” the girl agrees, pulling the datapad close to her chest. “I sent a transmission to my friend back on Puvo, just to tell her I’m alright.”
Din can sense that the girl feels the need to explain her actions for everything she does. While he remains on edge for Bo-Katan, he isn’t worried by a simple transmission sent by the girl. It’s the only semblance of a family she seems to have, who is he to cut her off from that?
“Idrionna is all fueled up for your trip. Wherever that may be,” Peli mumbles the last part, setting down her stack of cards. The girl reaches into her pocket, pulling out that damn pouch of credits again.
He had counted the amount back in the Mos Eisley cantina. Half the credits alone could fuel his ship for a lifetime. The girl is willing to give away what’s equal to life savings. How she got that number of credits, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to let her just give it all away until she was left penniless. If she did have a son out there, he needed to make sure she still had credits left over to care for her and her son.
“No,” Din says, his tone stern enough that the girl stops. “I already covered all the fees and I’m sure Peli wouldn’t miss the datapad.” One look at the woman and she shrugs, once again picking up her stack of cards and shuffling through them.
“Right,” the girl hums out. She turns to look at him, then follows as he makes his way towards the ship.
“There’s someone I need to speak to, on the planet Nevarro. Maybe on the way there, you can tell me more about your son. What you remember.” Din offers.
Cara Dune had access to all the New Republic’s data. Maybe she’d have something on the girl. He already had a name, and she couldn’t have been any younger than he was. Cara and he had certainly worked off less information. Even if there wasn’t anything, at least they could start a new record for her. There was even a possibility that her son could be in the same place as Grogu, training to be a Jedi. Given her lack of memories, however, and Din doubts that’s the case.
Idrionna’s flight deck is nothing like the Razor Crest. The controls still feel foreign to Din and it’s a reminder of how much he misses the latter ship. Similar in size and maneuverability, however, he’s just grateful that the ship isn’t falling apart or blown to smithereens.
The hum of the engines pulls his thoughts away. The girl sits next to him, her eyes following his movement as he prepares the ship for the hyperspace jump.
“Your son,” he says at first, unsure of how to start the conversation. “How old do you think he is now?”
The girl is quiet for a moment, watching him as he takes the control column of the Idrionna. The ship shifts as it pushes off the ground, the landing gear retracting. Peli and her pack of droids watch as the ship takes off into the Tatooine atmosphere.
“He can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen,” she finally replies. “He had to have been ten when I last saw him. My memories…they only show up to that point in his life. I get visions of him when he was younger but nothing about him being any older than ten.”
“Do you know…if his father was involved?” He finds himself asking the hard question. She had made zero mention of a father figure to her son. Was it because she didn’t remember that part in time or because there was no father involved.
He thought back to the widow Omera and how long it had been since he had last seen her. Now with a widow on his hands, maybe paying Omera another visit would do him good. He could only imagine the disappointment on Winta’s face when he did not bring Grogu with him.
“No. I—” the hitch of her breath startles him out of his thoughts. “I have no recollection of my son’s father. A part of me wants to think he was in our lives, but it’s like there’s tunnel vision when I have these nightmares. I see my son. Everyone else…it’s a blur.”
Din nods at her response. There’s a possibility of a father being out there, or at the very least, a record of his existence. He remains hopeful despite her answer, that even if he can’t find anything about her or her son, he could maybe find something about the father. These were the small victories Din saw in the girl’s words.
The jump into hyperspace is smooth, but the journey to Nevarro is long. It will be a while before they arrive at the volcanic planet. It would help Din get more information from the girl.
“They said they were searching for people, creatures, anyone who displayed these powers. The Force.” the girl says. The Force. It’s why Luke Skywalker had come searching for Grogu, having felt him through it at the Seeing Stone. It didn’t surprise Din that there may have been others searching for Force-sensitives.
“Who?” Din asks, curious. He had been a part of the population that lacked awareness of the ideology of Jedi and Sith. Life on the Outer Rim had given him that ignorance. Ahsoka Tano had been the first Jedi he had encountered in his entire lifetime and the second Jedi he ever met, Luke Skywalker, had been the one to take Grogu from him. All he had known previously about the Jedi was that they were enemies of the Mandalorians. Enemy sorcerers, he had previously called them. It had taken all of his trust to let Grogu leave with Skywalker, but he knew that Grogu would be able to thrive under the Jedi’s care.
“In my nightmare, there’s three of them. Their faces are nothing more than a blur and their voices I don’t recognize but they came to my village. Everyone had heard of the defeat of the Empire and that a Jedi was making his way through the galaxy to recruit others like him.” She sighs, looking down at her hands.
Din can now focus his attention solely on the girl and her retelling with the ship on autopilot. Her face is troubled and he can see the frustration in her eyes as she tries in vain to recall the rest of the details in the nightmare, maybe the faces of the men, or something easier, like their voices.
“When does it stop? The nightmare,” Din asks.
“It’s the ignition of a lightsaber. I had followed one of them, leaving the other two behind me to watch him. It’s an unmistakable sound, the air around you vibrates with the blade. I don’t remember anything after that. Valara says they tortured me. Whoever they are, I’m not sure.” The girl’s voice grows timid.
The dark saber on his belt burns against his side. He turns to look at the blue streams of light in front of him, unsure of what to say to comfort her. Long before Skywalker had begun his search for force-sensitives, the Empire had already torn so many families apart. Now with the Empire gone, the balance of power was divided.
It’s exactly what brought Moff Gideon into Din’s life. Kidnapping Grogu from him and stealing a vile of his blood for future experiments. Din shuddered at the possibility of the same happening to the girl’s son. Din still remembers the fight with the Dark Troopers and Gideon. The dark saber is a burning reminder of what he had both lost and won that day.
“We’ll find him.” He assures her.
“I’ll hold you to it, Mando,” she chuckles. It’s the sparkle in her eye, however, that tells him she’s trying. That’s all that matters to him.
Read Chapter Four - The Truth here!
#din dijarin x reader#din djarin#din dijarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin/reader#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian#the mandalorian/reader#start again
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Little Buddy.
Hello, Lovebugs.
Din Djanin X Fem Reader
Warnings - none yet but this will be a multi chapter thing that will eventually have lots of smut.
Summary - You need a job and Peli agrees you can work on the Razor Crest for her.
Chapter 2!
You suppose you should have expected this. Out on the street with a pathetic bag filled with clothes and no units to your name. You had been bouncing around on friends couches until you had overstayed your welcome. The problem this time was that you were out of couches to crash on. All your friends were sick of you, not that you could blame them. You had become pathetic with no home, no job, and no drive to change that.
There were few options for you on tatooine for a job. You had no true credentials. You had worked on the junk your father had around his little shop but you didn't have any true training it was everything you taught yourself. After he passed you had nothing. He owed everyone around so they took what they could to repay themselves for his debt. You knew you had one last option but you had been putting it off for as long as possible. Peli had given you a few odd jobs in the past but it had been a while since you had seen her. You essentially had a temper tantrum and stormed off from her hanger. You were young and dumb and in pain from the losses you had. Hopefully, she could see it in her heart to forgive you and let you work to make enough credits to at least get a place of your own.
You made your way down to Peli tail between your legs ready to beg on your knees when an old ship landed on the platform. From the looks and sound of it, the old space junk needed some serious TLC. You continued walking over to Peli catching her eye once the dust had fully settled. She gave you a knowing smirk with a hand on her hip as if to say look whos back. You sighed rolling your eyes. Get through this y/n just a few jobs and then you can come and go as you pleased. You mustered a smile hoping it looked less fake then it felt on your face. You had made it beside Peli when she looked at you before turning to the person coming off the ship. To both of your surprises, it was a Mandalorian. Suddenly the little speech you had been practicing on the way over escaped your mind. You were distracted from looking at the tall Mandalorian followed by a little silver ball floating behind him. This was definitely not a normal occurrence even for Tatooine. He stopped in front of the two of you stiff and serious. The little droids Peli kept around the hanger starting to make their way over to the ship before Mando shot towards one scaring them away.
“Hey!” Peli said ready to straight-up fight a man way bigger than her. “You damage one of my droids you pay for it.” You had to admit Peli had no fear when it came to her turf.
“Just keep them away from my ship,” the modulated voice said clearly not afraid of the shorter woman in front of him.
“You think that's a good idea, do ya? Let's look at your ship.” Peli started to do her walk around clipboard in hand already adding the credits up in her head. She started to do her typical run through that you had seen a million times over. She was a businesswoman who knew how to upcharge a stranger. “Oof! Look at that. Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scorin building up top. Yeah.” she continues looking around poking and pulling as she goes. The Mandalorian was clearly unamused with her little show. She kept mumbling to herself about needing a special tool for this and that it looked like someone was doing target practice on the ship. The Mandalorian cleared his throat to get Peli’s attention.
“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits.” The Mando pulled them out from a small pouch to prove to her he wasn't here to waste her time.
“That's all you got?” Peli said grabbing the credits from him. “Well, what do you think y/n?” You were surprised to hear your name. Honestly, you thought asking for a job would be more painful with pleading and flattery. You paused looking from the ship to the two other people in front of you.
“It will at least cover the hanger,” you said with a shrug. Your haggling skills were never the best and had gotten you yelled at a few times from your father and Peli about upselling to make a living.
“I’ll get you your money,” He said pausing before pushing the button on the little floating orb behind him. Peaking out was a little green creature with the biggest eyes and even bigger ears you have ever seen. It had the smallest little pout probably upset about being woken up from its nap. “I need you to watch him I have a job I need to take care of.” You couldn't help yourself you were drawn to it. Going over to the makeshift pram you reached out to pick up the little thing as it reached out to be picked up.
“What's its name?” You said looking to the Mando as you softly rubbed one of the giant ears on its head.
“I don't know his name. I just call him kid. So we got a deal? I’ll pay for the repairs and for the cost of watching the child.” Peli Hummed from a second before agreeing to his terms. With that, the Mandalorian grabbed a bag from the ship and went off to what you assumed was the job he spoke of.
“Bye Mando,” you said showing the child Mando leaving he cooed moving his ears down sadly. You felt for the little guy being left with two random ladies wasn't exactly what you would want either. “Are you hungry?” you asked the little guy suddenly seeing him brighten at the thought of getting a snackie. You turned around to take him into Peli’s area before being stopped by her in your tracks.
“Nice try y/n, I get the kid you get to work on the pile of space rubble.” Peli had her hands out for the child to be grabbed by her already baby talking to him giving him the pet name womp rat. She started to walk away before turning back to you. “Oh and welcome back y/n.”
You spent the next few days working on the ship with Peli. Every so often she would come over to check your work suggesting different things but otherwise, the two of you fell into the regular rhythm that you had been used to in working with her. The ship was truly in bad shape. Maybe the Mandalorian just wasn't that good at upkeep but he needed to start if he didn't want it to break down in the middle of space. The work was long and made your arms and legs have a familiar ache that reminded you of sleeping on different couches the past year. While working the child would sleep in his little floating pram or play around with the droids. When night would come you would play with him using random object around the shop as toys. His motivation in life however was food. He loved to eat everything and anything he could get his hands on. You were sure you had caught him eating random little creatures around outside. It didn't make him less adorable but you had to wonder where his insatiable appetite came from.
Peli let you sleep on the cot that she had around from the past when you would stay with her. It was very uncomfortable with the metal pushing into your back and sides when you would lay down in it. Yes, beggars can't be choosers but if you could you would choose something with a little more fluff. One of the nights you were laying staring at the ceiling when you heard the child start to stir. At first, they were little sounds like he was dreaming before turning into full-on tears. You snuck over to the orb looking down at the poor little guy. Clearly, he was having a nightmare. You thought back to when you would have nightmares when you were little. Your father would always rub soothing circles into your back to help you feel better. Grabbing the child in your arms you let him rest his head on your shoulder before you started to rub circles onto his tiny back. At first, his little whimpers were loud in your ear breaking your heart as he tried to let the soothing take over him. You lightly shushed him telling him all the typical things like you were there and he was okay. Eventually, after a lot of convincing and a few hiccups after the tears, he fell back asleep on you. You considered putting him back in the orb but you didn't want to wake him. At least that's what you were telling yourself because truthfully the cuddles made you feel so much better. No one had hugged you in so long that it felt nice to be needed.
Waking up you realized that you had slept sitting up leaning against the wall while holding the kid. You were definitely going to be paying for that later when your muscles would be screaming at you asking what the fuck you were thinking. For now, you were just happy that the kid didn't have any more nightmares that night. You could only imagine the things he had seen to end up being in the care of a Mandalorian. You started to hum very lightly to him when you felt like someone was watching you. Looking over you saw the Mandalorian looking at the two of you in your little cuddle puddle.
“He likes you.” the sound of his voice was slightly rough like he was in desperate need of some sleep and water. You nodded starting to stand before realizing your legs were numb from being in the position they were with the kid. Just as you felt like you were about to hit the ground the Mandalorian caught you holding you up while you found your balance. His gloved hands were rough against your skin. His grip was tight but not to the point you felt like he was going to leave a bruise. You gave him a little thanks before placing the child back in the pram. He gave a few little huffs before settling back into his blankets.
“I can show you everything we did on the ship if you want then I can grab Peli.” The Mandalorian simply nodded not giving anything away with that helmet. For all, you knew he could be rolling his eyes and you would be none the wiser. Walking around the ship Mando followed making small comments here and there about your work but overall was satisfied. Turning back to him you finally were able to take in just how much taller he was than you. He was broad and intimidating just to look at. You didn't want to imagine what it would be like having him chase you down as a bounty.
Peli came around the corner with the child following behind. The moment he saw you he made a squealing sound not even caring his father was back from his trip. Mando noticed turning his head to the side clearly surprised the excitement wasn't for him. You went to the child touching his ear softly looking at him closing his eyes. Mando and Peli dealt with the payment as you said good bye to the kid. How did he manage to make you fall in love with him so quickly? You barely noticed Peli call your name to get your attention.
“Oh sorry, Yes?” you said letting go of the kid and taking a step back. Mando looked over at you clearly amused by the way you and the child had already made a bond. It reminded him of how quickly he grew attached to him too.
“I have been looking for someone to watch the kid while I go on jobs. Plus you know your way around a ship. Would you consider working for with me for a couple of weeks?” Did the Mandalorian just give you your free ride off this stupid planet? You didn't think for long before your answer.
“Absolutely.” Mando nodded towards Peli as a final thank you before walking towards the ship the child’s pram following behind him as the kid tried to reach to Mando finally ready for his father’s attention. He really was a man of very few words not that it mattered to you. You ran to your little cot grabbing your bag that had your whole life in it. This was exactly the thing you needed. Running up to Peli she shoved some credits into your hand. “Thank you. For everything. Especially letting me come back after every time I leave.” She rolled her eyes nodding her head to the ship where Mando was waiting for you.
“I’ll always be here for you kid. Be careful out there.” With that, she gave you a little shove towards the ship before walking back to get away from the dust that will be kicked up from the ship. You made your way up the ramp looking back at Peli before closing the ramp. You threw your bag on the floor before crawling up the ladder to the cockpit. There Mando sat in the pilot seat with the child in the seat to his right. You sat down with a small smile on your face.
“Ready?” Mando asked as he flicked a few switches.
“Ready,” you said looking at the kid who cooed in response as the ship began to take off.
#the mandalorian#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x y/n#mandalorian x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin
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I saw you were taking random prompts and I thought of this lol. Boba and Leia are both single parents and somehow their kids meet and the kids hatch a plan to get their parents together? like a parent trap situation but the kids aren’t siblings & Boba and Leia aren’t divorced?
AO3 link
Family Weekend
Rated G
“This is quite an event,” Leia noted, looking around at the gathering of students and family members. “Were you expecting such a large turnout?”
“No, but I’m glad so many came.” Luke was also surveying the mountainside clearing. “I said I wanted this Jedi order to be more transparent, and letting their families see what they’re doing is part of that.” He turned back to her and grinned. “Plus it’s a two day camping trip. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“I guess you’ll find out.” Leia spotted Ben, who had claimed two woven mats for them at the far side of the circle. When she drew closer she saw that Grogu was with him. “It’s no wonder they get along so well,” Han had remarked after meeting the little creature. “He doesn’t talk and Ben talks enough for both of them.”
“His dad couldn’t come,” Ben reported to Leia as she sat down cross-legged on one of the mats. Grogu’s ears twitched and his head lowered.
“Sit with us,” Leia invited, patting the mat. Grogu shuffled over to join them as Luke moved into the center of the circle.
“Okay, we’ll get started now. Thank you for coming. I hope this will help you feel connected to what your child is learning. For the first exercise we’ll be doing a meditation similar to the ones we use in training. Please find a mat and get comf-”
A gasp from the sidelines drew everyone’s attention away from Luke. A man in Mandalorian armor was difficult to ignore. Especially when that man was Boba Fett.
“I’m here for Grogu,” he announced. “His dad asked me to come in his place.”
Grogu perked up immediately and made a happy noise, diffusing some of the tension. Luke smiled at him. “Of course.” He turned back to the bounty hunter. “You can take your seat with him. We were just about to start.”
“Oh great,” Leia murmured when she realized who her neighbor would be. Ben looked up at her, concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just someone I haven’t seen in a while.” She smiled stiffly at Fett as he approached. “Never expected to see you here.”
“That makes two of us.” He lowered himself onto the mat, imitating her cross-legged position. Grogu made a happy noise and put a small hand on his knee.
“Where’s your tent?” Ben asked.
“No one said anything to me about a tent.” When Grogu’s ears pricked up Fett’s helmet tilted in his direction. “Never mind, ad’ika. We’ll sleep under the stars.”
The mediation exercises were familiar to Leia, but she found it hard to concentrate with the bounty hunter beside her. For the last meditation stage Luke invited everyone to lay on their mats and focus on the sky as the first stars of the evening emerged.
“Think about the people who aren’t here with us,” Luke coached from the center of the circle. “See the stars and in the sky and feel the connection between every living thing in the galaxy.”
Some movement caught Leia’s eye and she turned her head just enough to see Grogu laying on Fett’s stomach instead of the mat, his eyes in the sky. “Thinking about your dad?” Fett inquired in a low voice. Grogu made a soft noise and turned over, pressing his cheek against the bounty hunter’s beskar chestplate. His hand came up to pat Grogu’s back.
After the meditation exercise was dinner. R2-D2 circled around with sandwiches and cups of hot broth while Luke built a fire in the center of the circle. The temperature was dropping steadily.
Fett removed his helmet to eat, drawing a few more curious stares from the other attendees. No one was rude enough to say anything about the scars that covered his face and scalp. Leia watched Ben closely to make sure he didn’t comment or stare, but Ben didn’t seem surprised. Perhaps Grogu had said something to him or perhaps, Leia realized, Ben had seen him before. If Fett had somehow become a member of Grogu’s circle, it was possible he had been here before with Grogu’s father.
As she ate she tried to come with a polite way of asking about his connection but for once her verbosity failed her. It was probably better if she just minded her own business. She was preparing to head towards her tent when she realized that Fett was moving towards her. Without his helmet she could see the tension in his eyes. “Is Grogu with your kid?”
“I don’t-” she looked around. “Ben?” She called, but there was no answer. Everyone else was headed to their tents for the night.
“Everything okay?” Luke called back. He was standing in the midst of a group of parents and she didn’t want to worry him.
“It’s fine,” she assured him before turning back to the bounty hunter. “I’m going to say ‘yes,’ because they’re probably together. Where did you see him last?”
“Right over there.” He gestured at the edge of the woods. “ Fek. I knew I should have put a tracking device on that little womp rat.”
“Would they have gone into the woods? It’s pretty dark.”
“Grogu has my helmet.” It was a statement he clearly didn’t enjoy. “Do you have a light or something?”
“Yes,” Leia said, keeping a tight lid on her amusement. She could see his frustration and concern. “Don’t worry,” she added as she fetched a portable lantern from her pack. “We’ll find them.”
She had, of course, a natural advantage but she kept that information to herself. “Let’s start here,” she said, letting the Force guide her steps.
They had gone further into the forest that Leia anticipated. They picked their way over rocks and fallen logs, the lantern casting deep shadows behind the trees. “Great,” she muttered. “This could be a long walk.”
“I’m surprised Solo isn’t here to help keep track of his kid.”
“Han did the field trip to the Mon Calamari opera last week.” There was a steep slope to their left, and Leia sensed something in the brush above them. “Wait.” She put her hand out too suddenly and accidentally connected with the bounty hunter’s thigh. She quickly dropped her hand as he stopped, standing close behind her.
There was murmur of voices further up the slope, and the rustling of brush.
“My dad has a girlfriend now,” Ben was saying. “She’s nice. But mom isn’t even trying to date anyone. She says she’s not lonely even though she really is.”
Leia pressed her lips together tightly. Well, that loth cat was out of the bag. She started to call out to her son, but Ben started talking again.
“Is it because his face is all messed up? I don’t think my mom would mind. Uncle Luke says what she really needs is someone who can make her take a vacation.” A pause. “Yeah, he seems like he could.”
Leia turned her head towards Fett, prepared to roll her eyes and make some flippant remark, but the expression on his face caught her off guard. There was something new in his eyes, some kind of understanding that made her immediately look away.
She could stomach a lot of things. Pity from Boba Fett wasn’t one of them. She started to move forward, to climb the slope to her son, but the loose stones and dirt beneath her feet shifted and she stumbled.
Fett’s arm caught her around the waist and kept her from sliding down any further. Her cheeks burned with annoyance as she put her hand on his arm to steady herself. “I’m fine,” she said, carefully polite as she turned back to face him. “Thank you.”
“Your brother’s an idiot,” He said. His voice was low and warm in a way that Leia wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes dropped to his mouth because he was that close and technically speaking, there was nothing to stop her from kissing Boba Fett. If she wanted to.
“Mom?” Ben scrambled through the brush. “What are you doing here?”
Fett quickly dropped his arm from her waist and Leia put her hands on her hips. “We were looking for you and Grogu.”
Fett’s helmet emerged, animated by Grogu’s shuffling steps. “Next time, ask,” the bounty hunter said as he reclaimed it. “Come on. It’s bedtime.”
“It’s cold,” Ben pointed out. “Too cold to be sleeping outside.” He looked up at Leia, all virtuous concern. She thought about telling him that she knew about his little scheme, but then again, why not let him have fun with his friend? And it was cold.
“Our tent is big enough to share,” she told Fett. “You and Grogu are welcome to join us.”
#boba fett/princess leia#rebelbounty#my fic#prompt#parent trap trope#WHAT IS THIS#fluffy fluff#I wrote...a rom com?#and there was only one tent#Anonymous
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Cabur
Chapter Seventeen
Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella)
Warnings: mentions of sex (but not explicit at all), teasing
Word Count: 3.1k
Also on AO3
Masterlist
Summary: Cara figures out what happened between Aili and Mando in no time and starts teasing but it backfires a little on her. They make it to Arvala-7 without anymore trouble from little green children and Mando is reintroduced to someone he left behind when he first rescued Little Green.
Cara couldn’t stop herself from staring, trying to figure out what exactly had changed since the last time she had seen Aili and Mando. They were all down in the cargo hold again, Aili with the kid in her arms to keep him out of trouble. She watched the way Aili slowly rocked the kid to sleep which was normal before her eyes wandered over to where Mando was.
If she were anyone else, she probably wouldn’t have noticed anything out of place. Maybe she wouldn’t have noticed the way Mando’s helmet was slightly tilted towards Aili and the kid so he could watch them. Or she wouldn’t have noticed the way Aili kept glancing at Mando with only half the amount of annoyance in her eyes as she had back on Sorgan. That was probably the thing that had really given it away for her.
“Oh, I see now,” Cara suddenly laughed loudly. It didn’t take a genius, just someone that had spent weeks around them to notice the difference between the way they acted around each other. It wasn’t even anything obvious and she doubted either of them noticed.
“What?” Aili asked, raising an eyebrow at the laughing woman. Mando stayed quiet, simply tilting his helmet to the other side wondering what Cara was talking about.
“You two. You two finally fu-”
“I’d suggest you don’t finish that sentence. Besides I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Aili placed Little Green onto the cot and shut the hatch. They still had no idea just how much he understood and she wasn’t about to have this conversation when he could overhear it.
“Uh-huh, sure you don’t. Just let me know what parts of the ship to avoid touching.” Cara didn’t want to accidentally touch anything that had seen any action between the two people she called friends. She looked over at the closed cot hatch and winced when she realized that Aili had just put the kid in there. “You two didn’t...in there, did you?”
“If what you think happened, happened, I’d tell you that cot is too small and it’s too late because you’re already leaning against it,” Aili fake-whispered, a large, innocent smile on her face. Cara let out a disgusted groan and moved from where she was leaning, moving towards another section of wall.
“Actually I think it was that wall,” Mando said from his spot against the ladder. Cara tossed a rude hand-gesture his way and wondered when he had decided to get a sense of humor.
“Was it? I was drinking and it was dark,” Aili questioned before shrugging her shoulders. She was a little surprised that he was joking about it too since it hadn’t been something either of them had brought up since it happened. It was mainly her avoiding the subject every time it seemed like Mando was about to say something because she didn’t want to talk feelings. Ever.
“You slept with her while she was drunk?” Cara asked, turning to Mando with surprise on her face. She knew they had to be messing with her now. No way Mando would sleep with Aili if she was drunk. He had more honor than that given how he had always tried to stop himself from looking for too long whenever Aili walked around Sorgan in a tank top. Cara and half the other people in the village didn’t have as much self-control so she had commended Mando for that at the very least.
"Cara, I drank you under the table back on Sorgan. You think I had that much alcohol on this ship, with that kid on board?" Aili questioned, raising a single eyebrow. There was no way to store that much alcohol on the Crest because there was nowhere to store it where Little Green couldn’t accidentally get into it. Her single bottle had been hard enough to keep from his reach.
"Fair point but still.”
"I wasn't even tipsy besides I came onto him and wouldn't take no for an answer,” Aili wasn’t going to apologize for it now even if she and Mando weren’t declaring their undying love for each other. She mentally laughed at the image because even if that happened, it would never be so dramatic. One of them would have to literally be dying to get her to say anything and even then she wouldn’t admit to anything if it was her doing the dying.
Cara paused for a moment before nodding and shrugging a shoulder, "That sounds more accurate. Surprising but accurate.”
The ship gave a small lurch as it dropped out of hyperspace and Mando let out a barely noticeable sigh as he now had a good reason to leave before Cara could keep teasing. He already knew she would focus on him because Aili would just join in rather than start blushing the way Cara would want her too.
“So how was...?” Cara didn’t even try to keep her voice down as she asked.
“I was great, thanks,” Aili said rather than seriously answer Cara’s question. It took until Mando was out of sight and standing in front of the cockpit to realize that Aili had actually given Cara a straight answer, giving the same answer as when he had asked. He shook his head knowing that Cara wouldn’t get the comment and he wondered if Aili had purposely said it or was deflecting like usual.
He brought them down onto Arvala-7, landing just outside the Ugnaught’s moisture farm. Aili opened the hatch, not even a little surprised to see Little Green was awake. “Come on, womp rat. You can show me where all the best rocks are.” She placed him in the other floating cradle they had even though she actually couldn’t remember where they had picked it up.
Mando came back down the ladder and made sure that the cradle was set to follow behind him. They all walked down the gangway, Mando in front while Aili chose to walk beside the floating cradle while Cara brought up the rear. Arvala-7 was only slightly better than Tatooine in Aili’s opinion and that had everything to do with the fact that it only had one sun.
Aili couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her when Mando had to almost bend over almost completely to enter the Ugnaught’s home. She assumed Cara would have to duck as well while she entered. “Tall people problems.”
“Better than needing help getting food down from the top shelf,” Mando muttered low enough that only she heard him.
“So you did do that on purpose,” Aili said bluntly before shoving at Mando’s shoulder and rolling her eyes. She knew she hadn’t put the snacks she had bought for herself that high up. No matter how much she wanted to keep them out of Little Green’s reach, she would never put them out of her own reach. Having to deal with Mando asking if she needed help as she tried to climb anything in order to get them down had almost been enough to make her smack him.
They settled around the home, Little Green’s cradle to the side while Aili stood next to it, Cara and Mando leaning against a wall. The Ugnaught came close to the cradle and Aili knew it was dumb but she tensed up a little before relaxing. Obviously this was someone she could potentially trust otherwise Mando wouldn’t have brought them here but it was a reaction she couldn’t stop herself from having.
“It hasn’t grown much,” the Ugnaught that Mando still hadn’t introduced them to said as he looked over the child in the cradle.
“I think it might be a Strand-Cast,” Mando replied.
“Mando, really? You could have mentioned that before and I would’ve told you that you were wrong,” Aili said, looking over at him with her face scrunched up wondering where he really got that idea. Logically she understood why he would think that but she’d seen Strand-Casts before. Little Green wasn’t one for multiple reasons.
The Ugnaught nodded his head, “Your friend is right. I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked the gene farms, this one looks evolved. Too ugly.
“These two on the other hand, that one looks like she was farmed on the Cytocaves of Nora while this one looks like she could be from any number of facilities.”
“Is that a compliment? I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” Aili said, a small smile on her face. She saw an almost matching one on Cara’s face, a little confused but mostly appreciative.
“This is Cara Dune, she was a shock trooper and this is Aili Verdella,she’s... another hunter from the Guild.” Mando introduced them, something he probably should have done when they first walked in. But he hadn’t really been given the chance. Aili and Cara both raised an eyebrow over Mando stumbling over how to introduce Aili.
The Ugnaught looked like he wanted to say something to Aili but he turned to Cara instead. “You were a Dropper?”
“Did you serve?” Cara asked, noticing the way his eyes had lingered on the tattoo on her arm. It was no surprise when people recognized it but it was usually others who had also served during the war.
“On the other side, I’m afraid. But I’m proud to say that I paid out my clan’s debt and now I serve no one but myself.”
That was the moment a droid ducked into the home, an IG unit with a tray of what looked like tea in its hands. Aili didn’t know what to make of it because IG units were usually not used for serving tea but she wasn’t about to pull a blaster out unlike Cara and Mando who immediately did so.
“Tea, it’s literally holding a tray of tea. What do you think it’s going to kill us with poison rather than a blaster?” Aili muttered to Cara and Mando who didn’t so much as lower their weapons in the slightest. She knew Mando hated droids but this was a little ridiculous, more so than when he shot at pit droids.
“That thing is programmed to kill the baby,” Mando said knowing that was all he would have to say to get Aili to take the threat seriously. He felt a little bad even as he said it because he didn’t actually know how Aili would react.
“What?” Aili questioned, slowly shifting her feet to move quickly if she had to be it towards the droid or to protect Little Green. She was cursing herself in her head for never getting the whole story from Mando on exactly how he had wound up with Little Green in the first place. Now she wished she had asked.
“Not anymore,” the Ugnaught said gently. “Please lower your blasters.”
“Why do you have it?” Aili asked, glancing over at him for a brief moment before looking back up at the droid who was still just standing there with the tray of tea. She didn’t see any weapons attached to it but that didn’t mean much when it came to droids. But she had a feeling that the Ugnaught didn’t make it a habit of letting the IG unit have weapons at all times.
He let out a sigh before launching into his explanation, if only to ease the Mandalorian’s stiff posture and convince him to lower his blaster. “It was left behind in the wake of the Mandalorian’s destruction. I found it laying where it fell, devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and stated it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic.
“Little remained of its neural harness. Reconstruction was quite difficult...but not impossible. It had to relearn everything from scratch, this is not something that can be taught with the twist of a spanner. It requires patience and repetition.
“I spent day after day reinforcing its development with patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew.”
“Is it still a hunter?” Mando asked stiffly, blaster still in hand although he had lowered it a little. Cara had put hers away midway through the explanation but she didn’t have half the issues with droids as Mando did.
“No but it will protect.”
The IG unit kept its ocular receptors trained on Mando for a long time as the Mandalorian stared at it as well. Until the droid held up a steaming cup, “Tea?”
Cara took the cup after half a second, slowly drinking the tea without question and Mando let out a sigh knowing there wasn’t much else that he could say or do about the droid. The droid handed out tea to everyone else, save for Mando who refused the drink. Aili couldn’t tell if it was because of the helmet or droid itself.
Eventually the Ugnaught had to go outside to tend to the blurrg and Mando made to follow after him before hesitating when he came closer to the droid. Aili came up beside him, placing a hand on his arm right under his pauldron, she waited for him to glance down at her. “I’ll stay here with Little Green, you go talk to him.”
Mando gave her a short nod before he left, the last thing he heard was Cara laughing. “Little Green?”
“He’s little and green, you got a problem with that?” Aili bit back, her tone only jokingly harsh.
He walked over to where the Ugnaught was feeding one of the blurrgs. “I’ve run into some problems.”
“I figured as much, why else would you return?”
“I want to hire your services.”
“I’m retired from service.”
“I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught,” Mando said, trying to keep his tone steady. They didn’t exactly have very much time before Karga just decided that they weren’t coming. He didn’t want to know what would happen after that. How many more hunters would be after them if the Imps weren’t taken out.
“I have a name, it is Kuiil.”
“I need someone to protect the little one, Kuiil.” Mando said, immediately using the Ugnaught’s name and wondering why he had never asked before. He winced, glad that Aili had stayed back in Kuiil’s home because he knew she would comment on his manners again.
“I’m not suited for such work and it seems like your companion can do so on her own,” Kuiil replied, referring to Aili and how she had immediately moved to protect the Child when Mando referred to IG-11 as a potential threat.
Mando shook his head even though he wished that were the case with Aili. Karga wouldn’t accept only him showing up, not when Aili betrayed the Guild too at the request of the Armorer for a reason neither of them understood. “She...I dragged her into this trouble as well.”
“I see,” Kuiil said. “I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol.”
“I don’t want that droid anywhere near him,” Mando quickly refused.
“Why are you so distrustful of droids?”
“Yes, Mando, please enlighten us.”
“I thought you said you were going to stay with the kid,” Mando let out a sigh as he turned to look at Aili who simply shrugged her shoulders.
“Relax, the IG unit had to shut down to charge and Cara is watching Little Green who is asleep. But I believe he asked you a question and I’ve been curious since Tatooine,” Aili said, a single eyebrow raised as she waited for him to answer. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the right to ask when she had shared pretty much everything about her own childhood, or lack thereof.
“It tried to kill the child,” Mando said as if that answered either of their questions.
“That’s not an answer,” Aili said before rolling her eyes. But it was fine, if he wanted to continue keeping his secrets then it was his choice. She wasn’t going to hold a grudge against him for that or bring it up later. Maybe.
“It was programmed to do so. Droids are not good or bad, they are neutral reflections of those who imprint them,” Kuiil explained and Aili actually couldn’t come up with a decent argument for that one. She’d seen droids take on the personalities of their owners, some ending up with very colorful language.
“I’ve seen otherwise,” Mando said shortly. Once again Aili wondered where his hatred of droids had started because it was deep seated. An old grudge like hers when it came to the Empire.
“Do you trust me?” Kuiil asked. Aili looked up at Mando and waited for his answer. Either they had Kuiil and the IG unit join them or they took off without either of them, which would mean reworking the plan for how Nevarro went down. Someone would need to be tasked with getting Little Green out of there if things went sideways and as much as Aili would say she could do it...
“From what I can tell, yes.”
Kuiil gave a short nod. “Then you will trust my work. IG-11 will join me and we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery. None will be free until the old ways are gone forever.”
“Anyone against Imps is good with me, even if it’s a reprogrammed droid,” Aili said when Mando stayed quiet.
“And the blurrgs will join me as well,” Kuiil said simply as he turned to walk away without further explanation.
“The blurrgs?” Both Aili and Mando questioned at the same time.
“I have spoken.” Kuiil said as he kept walking away, going back into his home without giving them time to argue with him.
“Do we have room for blurrgs?” Aili asked, looking from the blurrg they were standing next to and then over to the Razor Crest. She also assumed that Kuiil would want to take at least two as well. That would make space on the ship tighter than it already was.
“It’ll-”
“Please don’t say it will be fine,” Aili interrupted Mando before he could keep talking. Every time he said that everything went wrong in more than one way. Either she ended up with a concussion or she literally screwed up the mostly friendly rapport that had formed between the two of them. She was still avoiding that one as best as she could despite Mando trying to subtly bring it up at times.
Mando let out a deep sigh, “I was going to say it’ll be a tight fit but we should have the room.”
“Doubtful but we’ll see.”
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x original character#din djarin imagine#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x oc
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prideful piloting- ch 3
warnings: gets a little.. risqué, some unwanted advances, language probably
word count: about 1.8k
series masterlist !!
a/n: hi!! sorry it’s been a bit, ive been putting this one off for a while! hope you enjoy, there’s more poe in the next chapter btw :)
you were preparing to leave on your mission extremely early in the morning, it was quite a simple task. you were assigned a trip to coruscant, formerly an imperial hotspot in the first galactic civil war, and now run by the first order. the black squadron was the only group on this mission in order for you all to lay low. the assignment was to gather intel on what the first order was currently scavenging the galaxy for, because it seemed to be of great importance. your target was a general shalzar and your squadron would enter the fancy club he was set to attend in order obtain as much intel as you could. you approached the unmarked ship you were to take to coruscant, inspecting the exterior of the simple silver ship. walking up to the entrance of the ship, your departure was interrupted by damerons droid. the beeping and whirring of bb-8 made you pause your movements and turn around to see what he was fussing about. you were met with not only the droid, but also it’s owner.
“dameron?” you questioned, surprise evident in your speech.
“just wanted to wish you good luck” he grabbed your hand and shook it, adding a small pat as encouragement. he seemed sincere and for once in his life, not outrageously irritating.
“thank you.” you found his touch to be overwhelming, but you didn’t know why. you quickly pulled your hand away from his, and nodded his way hoping he would take the queue and leave. he did.
you then entered the ship, (and tried not to dwell on the strange interaction you just had with dameron) making your way to the cockpit to start on your pre-flight checks.
you turned on your comlink before departing d’qar, checking in on the squadron. you were all to leave at separate times in order to remain inconspicuous.
“this is admiral (l/n), departing now.”
your squadron all responded with acknowledgment, so you continued.
“remember, the mission information and your temporary identification are all on your data pad. i’ll see you all at the rendezvous.”
“glad to have you back admiral.” was the comment that caught your attention.
“glad to be back” you responded with a smile before turning your comm back off.
you took off, abandoning the jungle planet and setting route for coruscant, giddy to be back in an x-wing.
eventually, the full black squadron made their way to the rendezvous point. you were all dressed in the best clothes the resistance budget would allow, an attempt to camouflage in the high profile club. you entered the room, quickly spotting the general you needed information out of. you discreetly pressed the com hidden in your earring.
“i’ve got eyes. if things go bad do not tell them you are resistance. if i get taken just let me go.”
you couldn’t allow anyone else to get captured. if they got you, they’d bring you to kylo ren, and you knew how to deal with him.
you received acknowledgment from the squadron, and you put your personal plan into motion, which was to seduce general shalazar. he wasn’t too slimy looking, quite young and if he weren’t first order you may think him attractive. you watched him discreetly, and knew that all you had to do was make yourself look willing. when he finally met your glance you did your best to capture his his attention. you smiled at him, bit your lip, and twirled your hair, before winking and quickly glancing away. flirty, but not too seductive, something you know a man like him would fall for. you saw the general dismiss the troopers around him before sauntering over to you in your peripheral vision.
“what’s such a lovely lady like you doing all alone in a place like this?” could the man be any more predictable? it was nearly infuriating but you knew you had to play along.
“hoping for someone like you to join her” you gave him your best smile, twirling your hair again.
“good thing i did then, let me buy you a drink.”
“only if you get one too” you faked bashfulness. you had to get some alcohol in him, enough to have him let his guard down even more than he already has.
“a fuzzy tantuan for the beautiful woman, and a glass of darkoma for me please.” the general smiled at you, and you returned it.
“thank you, can i have a name to match such a handsome face?” you needed to be sure it was the general, and you knew knowing his name would make it easier for you to coax information out of him.
“general julius shalazar, and what’s yours gorgeous?” ugh, how charming. suppressing an eye roll, you gave him your false identity.
“vienna pane. i’m honored to be in the presence of such an accomplished man, i hope i can help” you paused your sentence to run your hand down his arm, attempting your seduction now. “alleviate some of the stress of such a high ranking man.”
“i’m sure you can” he took a few sips of his drink before continuing “right now i’m so busy it may have to be within the hour, i depart from coruscant soon, sadly.”
you pouted your lips, before turning up your charms. “only an hour of fun?” you were almost disgusted with yourself, touching the scum in such ways, but you knew it was for the sake of the mission. you rested your hand on his thigh now, and spoke to him again. “i cant imagine anything else being more important than me and you having a good time tonight”
to your dismay, he returned the touch to your own thigh, but then you knew you got him. you pretended to fiddle with your necklace, turning on the recording device.
“try finding a map for luke skywalker.” you did your best to calm yourself. they’re looking for dad. you once again pretended to move the necklace as a nervous act, this time turning the recorder off. you masked your shock in more flirtation, even though you got what you wanted you needed a way to get out of there without giving the womp rat anything. you definitely didn’t want to kiss him, and anything more would be incredibly unwanted.
“you must be so busy” you feigned sympathy and ran the hand that was on his thigh up and down slowly. you laid eyes on pava and gave her a small nod to signal that you got what you needed, and she relayed that to the rest of the black squadron before exiting the club and preparing for her scheduled departure.
“how about a distraction, general” you pat his thigh a little and he agreed with you.
“that would be nice, vienna.” he almost made it too easy.
he led you to the booth he was at before in a more secluded area of the club. you were still able to spot a member of the squadron though, so someone has eyes on your location.
you didn’t want to be with the general, but you’d rather sit with him then take a blaster shot to the head and fail your mission. the general pulled you into his lap, and ran his hands up and down your side. you really wished he wouldn’t touch you, but you did nothing to stop it, knowing that although you didn’t like it you had to let him. you were trying to stall, attempting to play games with him instead and doing your best to avoid the unwanted touches. you were saved when the troopers came back, telling the general he needed to go. he, however, was persistent and insisted on giving you his info, in case he needed a distraction. you took it, continuing with your act, before briskly leaving the club. gross. you shivered, your skin was crawling and your stomach was churning in disgust, but also you felt proud of such a success. you turned on your comm and let the squadron know you got the info and everyone could depart the planet at their scheduled times.
you changed back into more casual wear, and when you departed coruscant you let yourself think of the new information gathered.
“try finding a map to luke skywalker”
your father had departed long ago, leaving you and the rest of his family after ben became kylo ren. he felt it as a failure, and he had told to you that the force showed him he needed to leave- leave you and his family. you were quite young, and you didn’t fully understand why he needed to go, but general organa seemed to and assured you that he was right, he couldn’t be here. you had trusted her, and deep deep down you felt the same feeling your aunt and father had, telling you that you needed to separate from your father. still, it hurt you deeply that your father had left, and now you knew you needed to find the map before the first order. your heart ached at the thought of kylo ren getting a hold of your dad, it was his fault your dad was gone. you exhaled deeply, trying not to get your hopes up as you made the jump to lightspeed, but your eyes welled up at the possibility of seeing your father again. returning to base, you thanked the black squadron for joining you and having your back before heading off to give the general and the rest of the superior officers the mission report. leia directed her gaze to you and spoke.
“admiral, stay after you give the report please.”
did she know already? is that why she sent me on this mission? it wasn’t necessarily a pilots mission, she could’ve had other officers go, but did she send you because she knew what you would find out? you felt a little betrayed; why would she make you retrieve information if she already knew it? you shrugged it off and nodded at her, before playing the recording for the officers in the briefing room. the information caused quite the buzz and you ended up staying extremely late, not only giving the mission report but discussing what this meant as a high ranking resistance officer. when the room finally calmed, general organa dismissed them and turned to you.
“how are you feeling, (y/n)” the care the older woman held in her voice brought you deep comfort, and you spilled your true feelings to her.
“hopeful, yet so afraid. what if they find him before we do, aunt leia? i know there’s still good in ben but i don’t think he can resist snoke.” she silently agreed, and you continued on. “i just miss him, i want my dad back.” your voice cracked in the end, and you felt a lump form in your throat. your aunt grabbed your hand gently before looking you in the eyes.
“we’re going to find him. i know we will. but first, you’re going to need some training.”
#star wars sequel fic#star wars x reader#star wars imagine#star wars#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron#jedi reader#jedi#the force awakens#star wars the force awakens#x reader
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Storm of the Republic
Chapter 14
AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
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Summary: When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.
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Holding a torchlight in her hands, Tori had Frieda on her baby carrier as Fox and Riyo held each other’s hands, navigating through the darkness in the streets. The last time she was in Level 1312, there were neon lights and street lights that brightened up the streets. There were also people walking on the streets, filled with all kinds of emotions and turmoils.
Level 1312 was also the place where she would buy her favourite whiskey after a hard day on the battlefield. The convenience store she would hang out in also had her favourite instant noodles, which Lira and Eva loved very much.
Lira loved the cheese flavour, while Eva preferred carbonara. Both of the noodles were spicy, but they didn’t mind it. After all, both the twins had spicy food since they were three years old. Their biological mother introduced them step-by-step, which worked for them.
Now the convenience store she saw was empty, with only womp-rats wandering around the abandoned building. The fridge that stored her favourite drinks was cleared, along with the shelf that had her instant noodles and snacks. The roofs were destroyed, with only broken cement and stones left behind.
The streets were also eerily quiet, reminding her of a scene of an apocalyptic movie. Last she was here, it was filled with rotting corpses and blood on the tar road. She even remembered seeing a severed head and limbs belonging to a civilian. It still sticks to her mind whenever she’s in combat.
Frieda was found in the dumpster at the alleyway, covered in dirt and cuts. Tori wondered how many other Frieda’s were killed during the battle between the Republic and the Separatist, with no one mourning for their loss.
“Mama, why is it so dark here?” the little asked, wrangling her arms around Tori’s shoulders. “Are there monsters coming to get us?”
“The Empire cut off electricity here,” she answered. “Before, there were people living their lives here. Now, everything is broken here, so they have to go somewhere else instead.”
“But are there monsters here?”
Dipper laughed. “No, kiddo. There are no monsters here. Though they do exist, they can’t survive in a street like this.”
“Then where would they go then?”
“Somewhere safe from people like us,” Fox turned to Frieda, squeezing her hand. “So don’t worry about them, alright? You’ll be safe and sound with us. If anything, monsters are more afraid of us than we are.”
“Yes, Uncle Foxy,” Frieda nodded, making his heart flutter.
Shifting his focus on the streets, he continued down the road with Riyo glancing at him with a pleasant look on her face. “Well, this is not as bad as it seems,” she commented on their current situation.
“Really?” Fox let out a smirk. “I thought you would fear the dark.”
She shook her head. “I’ve walked in a street like this back in Pantora. There was not much electricity on the outskirts back in the days, so over time, I had to get used to it, you know. It’s not a simple process, but I managed it in the end.”
“Didn’t you tell me once that if you wandered at night, you might end up meeting an evil spirit?”
“Well, I did, but I never believed in those superstitions anyway,” Riyo brushed them off. “Adults would only say that just to keep us home after sunset.”
“People do that?” Dipper asked, interrupting their moments together, much to Fox’s frustration.
“Well, adults do that sometimes,” she frowned. “They would make up superstitions and scary stories just to keep us kids in line and most of the time, children would fall for that, but I didn’t, and I turned out alright.”
“That’s dumb,” Tori remarked. “Why can’t they just be more truthful instead of lying to their kids?”
“Maybe because they thought kids won’t listen to them.”
“That’s just utter nonsense. Kids would appreciate it if their parents or guardians were more transparent with them instead of beating around the bush.”
“I agree,” Fox spoke. “If I was the kid, I would rather listen to my parents telling me the truth instead of listening to stupid superstitions.”
“Right?” Riyo exclaimed. “When I have a child, I will never tell a superstition just so I can get them to listen to me.”
The Marshal Commander gleamed at her promise. Since they were able to be open with their relationship, Fox looked forward to the future, where they would have a family together like Tori.
He would prefer a little girl like Frieda so that he could answer all the questions his daughter would ask him. Even if he doesn’t know the answer, at least Fox could have a long discussion with his child, just like how he would have one with the mother of his child.
“I know you’ll be a splendid mother,” Fox said to her, as they stepped onto a large platform, which will take them to the surface of Coruscant. Riyo gave a smile of approval as Dipper pushed the button, making them go up.
“You’ll make a good father too, Fox.”
As they were about to kiss each other, Tori let out a fake cough, covering Frieda’s eyes with her hands. “If you’re going to kiss, please do it once we’re at Senator Amidala’s place.”
“Does anyone ever tell you that you’re a party pooper, Tor?” Fox narrowed his eyes. “Because you always ruin the fun for others.”
“Well, I’m not a mirror, Foxy,” she curled her lips in a mischievous grin, making Dipper snort at his commander’s remarks.
“Do you need ice for that burn, Commander Fox?”
“Just shut your traps, will you?” Fox looked the other way as he avoided their gaze, much to Tori’s pleasure.
When they reached the surface, the four of them gasped at the lack of light in the giant metropolis. Seeing the city lights go off made Fox and Riyo shiver, as they were used to the brightness from every corner of the skyscrapers.
Even the bars and nightclubs weren’t blasting music like it used to. Similar to Level 1315, the upper-level was just the same. There was no one wandering in the streets except for battle droids, which were patrolling in the streets.
Noticing their presence, Fox gestured to them to show their chain codes to them, hoping they wouldn’t seem suspicious in an enemy territory. “Good evening,” he straightened his posture, his eyes fixed on them. “What can I do for you?”
“Why are you out here on a curfew?” one of the B1 battle droids questioned them. “All citizens must be indoors from 7:30 p.m. to 6:00 a.m.”
“Well, we just arrived from Corellia and we’re on our way to visit our family.”
“Let me see your chain codes.”
Giving a nod to his team, all of them did what the droid ordered, without saying a single look. Taking one look at their identification, the patrols bobbed their heads among themselves before returning it to them. “You are clear to proceed. Have a nice day, citizen.”
As they were left alone, all four of them breathed in relief. “Thank goodness they didn’t notice a thing,” Tori said. “Otherwise, we would be screwed by now.”
“Those droids are dumber than I thought,” Dipper jokes. “I wonder how long until we’re exposed.”
Before Tori could answer him, Riyo waved at them, pointing at a hover taxi in front of her. “Our ride is here. Hop in.”
#star wars#star wars ocs#star wars original characters#star wars fics#star wars fanfics#star wars fanfictions#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#obi wan kenobi#arc trooper fives#arc trooper yara#clone troopers#clone trooper ocs#clone ocs#commander fox#riyo chuchi#commander tori#lenora doherty#clone trooper tup#palps is dead#star wars au#star wars alternate universe#count dooku#galactic empire
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Out unseen - ch. 2
previous | next
chapter two is just a quick breather chapter before things get much worse again!
cw: discussion/aftermath of noncon
taglist: @womping-grounds @liquor-belle @justplainwhump @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @orchidscript (I think everyone here asked to be tagged? please let me know if you need taken off the list I promise I won’t be offended haha)
Also on Ao3
---
Elyse sat curled on the couch, staring at the book she was holding. Not reading, no; her eyes passed over the same paragraph over and over while she absorbed nothing. Anna sat next to her, fingers drumming the side table, mind seemingly a million miles away. Kailo was sketching in a notebook, but his gaze kept drifting through the kitchen to the entryway. Darya was fidgeting, pacing, straightening out things that didn’t need to be straightened, constantly moving around the room.
Try as they might to distract themselves, they were all holding their breath. Waiting.
The door opened with a creak and Elyse was on her feet in an instant. Felicia and Marcus stepped inside with a gust of autumn wind, and it wasn’t until she saw them returned home safe that Elyse realized just how worried she’d been for the past several hours.
“How was it?” Elyse asked, primed for some casual banter about the ball, but something in the pair’s demeanor gave her pause as she approached. Felicia’s eyes were red and her face was lined with exhaustion, and Marcus was jumpy, twitchy.
Felicia leaned forward to give Elyse a quick kiss and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We got some good info. I’m gonna go get out of this dress, and then we can talk about it.” She opened her mouth as if about to add something else, then shut it with a final forlorn glance and quickly left for her room.
Marcus murmured something about getting changed as well before excusing himself, and Elyse felt a growing unease. Something went wrong. They got caught, they got hurt, we’re in danger. She rubbed her temples with shaking hands, willing herself to relax. Of course they were exhausted. They just spent the night in disguise, unable to let their guard down. They would need a minute to decompress.
Elyse headed to the kitchen table where everyone else was beginning to gather. The room was subdued, quiet save for the sounds of Kailo putting a kettle on to make some chamomile tea. Elyse took a seat and Felicia and Marcus returned a moment later, their evening wear swapped out for loose pajamas. Maybe she was reading too much into things, but Elyse could’ve sworn there was something painful in the glances the pair kept sharing.
Once everyone had settled at the table, Elyse cleared her throat and tried to force a cheerfulness she didn’t fully feel. “So, how was the dance?”
There was a beat of silence, another exchanged look between Felicia and Marcus, and then he spoke up. “It was fine.” His expression said otherwise, but he pushed on before anyone could comment. “I overheard a conversation. Becker and—I don’t know, some lackey. We were right about him.” Marcus’s eyes blazed with determination. “He is involved with everything—the smuggling, the disappearances—and he’s connected to Volkan.”
The high whistle of the tea kettle cut off his next words, and Felicia visibly jumped, her head snapping up in alarm. The sudden fear in her eyes made Elyse’s heart ache, but she bit her lip, unwilling to comment on it in front of everyone. Instead, she busied herself with getting some cups out while Kailo finished making the tea. She began placing cups out on the table for everyone, and Felicia took her hand as she passed by, giving it a quick squeeze.
“It’s some sort of trade deal,” Marcus continued, holding his cup with both hands and breathing in the steam. “Becker and Volkan. Next Wednesday. Down by the docks.”
“So if we could disrupt that—” Darya began, but Anna cut her off.
“If we disrupt that, we’ve blown our cover just to screw with them once, and they’ll just keep doing the things they do and ruining lives and nothing will change.”
Kailo tilted his head, considering. “But if we got some pictures or something, some evidence, and made that public…”
Elyse let the three of them debate without fully listening, her attention drawn across the table to Felicia and Marcus. Felicia was gazing down at the cup of tea held in her hands, her eyes stormy and unfocused. Then Marcus leaned over and whispered something to her, and she blinked, snapping back to attention.
“—just the two of them in a photo together like that, clearly engaging in something shady, that might just be what we need to break this open.”
Kailo’s voice broke through the fog of Elyse’s mind, and she refocused on the conversation at hand. This was a valuable opportunity, and they had to move carefully. Logistics. She could handle this. It was familiar, stopped her from dwelling on just what had gone wrong at the party that had Felicia and Marcus so shaken up.
“So we go observe this—Marcus, did he actually say what he was trading?”
Marcus set his cup down, brow furrowing. “Don’t think he did, actually. Drugs, maybe? Some sort of magic contraband?”
Elyse shrugged. “Either way—we watch this trade, we get some pictures, we don’t let them see us. Does that sound like a plan?”
The others murmured their agreement, and then Darya asked, “Who’s we?”
“Probably just one or two of us,” Anna said after a slight pause. “Too many of us go, it’ll draw attention.”
“I’ll go.”
It was the first time Felicia had spoken since the discussion began. All eyes turned on her.
“Are you sure?” Marcus asked immediately, and Felicia turned to him with a look that, while not quite a glare, held something of determination and a touch of anger.
“Yes,” she said, and Marcus nodded.
“I’ll go too,” he said. “We’ll go together.”
Still not completely sure what had just passed between them, Elyse forced herself to press on. “So Felicia and Marcus will go, next Wednesday, and get whatever evidence they can.”
Felicia downed the rest of her tea and set the cup down with a rattle. “Great. That’s a plan.” She stood abruptly, weariness etched in the lines of her face, and turned to leave. “Good night, then.”
“Shouldn’t we…” Kailo began, but Felicia had already left the room.
“She just...needs a break,” Marcus offered weakly, gathering up some of the cups to bring to the sink. “We had a long night.”
***
Elyse sat waiting in the bedroom when Felicia returned. She stood at the doorway for a moment, like she was waiting for something—but Elyse didn’t know what, and then she entered the room in earnest and sat next to her on the bed.
“Hey,” Felicia murmured, uncharacteristically shy.
“Hey,” Elyse replied. “Everything ok?” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. Stupid question. Of course everything isn’t ok, we could all see that.
Felicia gave a small laugh. “I think you already know the answer to that,” she said, a bit of wryness breaking through the haze of her exhaustion, and Elyse had to smile despite everything.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Everything about Felicia felt so uncertain, so guarded, and Elyse wasn’t sure how much she should push.
“I do. I just…” Felicia began, haltingly, her gaze sliding from Elyse’s face to anywhere else. “At the party, I had a run-in with V-Volkan.” She stumbled a bit over his name, and Elyse felt a growing dread at Felicia’s obvious discomfort. “We danced, and he pulled me aside somewhere more—private.” She took Elyse’s hand in both her own, still looking down and not directly at her, and began rubbing circles in her palm with both of her thumbs. “And he said he knew I was up to something, and then he, um. Assaulted me.”
She whispered the word, as if by making it smaller she could minimize the damage that was done to her. Elyse’s mind filled in what was unsaid, flashes of Felicia, terrified, alone, crushed up against the wall in some overly-elaborate ballroom, hands violating—Elyse couldn’t stop herself from following further and further what must have happened—
Felicia drew her hands away. “Sorry,” she whispered, still looking down. “I’m sorry, I—I know that was a lot—”
“No!” Elyse grabbed Felicia’s hands again, then immediately drew back, because how dare she presume to grab Felicia like that, after what she had just been through. “Felicia, you—you don’t have to be sorry. For anything. I—can I touch you?”
Felicia nodded at that, and then pulled Elyse into a hug before she could even move. Elyse wrapped her arms around Felicia in return, hesitant at first, and then fully allowing herself to sink into the embrace.
Her mind swirled with emotions, shock and grief and pain intermingling into heartbreak. But beneath all that, she felt a simmering anger that almost caught her off-guard. Her hands curled into fists, and she wanted to rage against the cruelty and callousness of the world.
Useless rage, a part of her realized. She doesn’t need this from me right now.
“What do you need from me?” Elyse murmured instead, forcing her hands to relax, bringing herself back with palms pressed against Felicia’s back.
Felicia pulled back from the hug then, studying Elyse. “I don’t know,” she said after a moment. “I guess...I just need you to trust me.”
“Trust you?” Elyse was taken aback by the request. “Of course I trust you.”
“I know.” Felicia bit her lip, glancing off to the side. “It’s just—we’re all a team, and we need to be able to rely on each other, and you can’t be worrying about me or...or thinking I’m delicate or something.”
“I don’t think you’re delicate—” Elyse paused, gathered her thoughts. Their discussion at the table flashed through her mind, Marcus’s murmured are you sure? when Felicia volunteered herself. “Are you...worried? About the job you and Marcus are taking?”
“No!” Felicia’s reply was quick. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Abashed, she clasped her hands in her lap. “But I need to be able to still do these things. And to be able to do them without—worrying about you worrying about me, you know?”
Elyse would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. She was terrified. Her mind followed endless paths to the worst possible outcomes—Felicia and Marcus killed, or caught and tortured in the worst ways.
She couldn’t lie to Felicia. So instead she told the truth, and said, “I trust you.”
Something like relief broke out across Felicia’s face. “I love you so much.” She brushed back loose strands of Elyse’s hair with a gentle hand and pulled her into a kiss, and Elyse’s heart warmed with the touch.
“What do you want tonight?” Elyse asked, her hand still lingering on Felicia’s skin, their faces still close.
Felicia sighed, almost inaudibly. “Can I just...hold you?”
Elyse nodded and pulled back the covers so they could climb into bed together. She lay down, and Felicia pulled the blankets over them and wrapped warm arms around her. Her head nestled into Elyse’s neck, her breath soft on her skin.
“I love you,” Felicia whispered, her eyes already drooping shut.
“I love you.” Elyse didn’t think for one minute that Felicia actually fell asleep that quickly; she could still feel the tension in her body, the way her arms were placed a touch too carefully. Elyse’s heart still hurt, with fear and sadness and anger and an overwhelming need to make everything better. But as she shut her eyes, she focused instead on the warmth of the woman with her, the tickle of Felicia’s hair brushing her skin, the utter trust involved in this simple act of vulnerable intimacy. Grounding herself in Felicia’s embrace, Elyse allowed her breathing to relax, and the pair of them drifted off into a deep sleep.
#out unseen#my writing#my oc: felicia#my oc: elyse#my oc: marcus#noncon tw#*shoves this aside* ANYWAY BACK TO THE WHUMP#lady whump#ou content
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— Ethereal.
Pairing: The Mandalorian / Unnamed, Blind OC.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Din only wanted her to be happy.
Ethereal.
That’s how he saw her, sitting in the green grass with her hair messily falling in her face. She was hunched forward, mouth moving as she spoke to the little womp rat of a child. Her eyes did not meet his larger, curious ones, and instead floated past him. The child’s hands reached out, palming her face with tiny hands - she smiled bigger at this and the Mandalorian he holds his breath for the briefest of moments.
“You’ve been staring for an awfully long time.”
The Mandalorian bristled at the comment, looking over to find Cara staring in the direction he was just moments ago. He stood taller, looking back at the woman and child, “I’m just making sure they’re okay.”
“We’ve gotten rid of the raiders that were bothering these people,” Cara looked up at him, her eyes searching the T visor of his helmet, “She looks happy here and so does the child… I bet underneath that helmet and creed you look just as content as she does. Don’t you ever just think about settling down with the blind one and the child? ”
He has thought about it. Long before even the child was in the picture and it was just him and her on the Razor Crest. She had been there for him through many fights, many wounds, and many sleepless nights. She had bothered him to no end, and had a mouth on her that often found him stepping in between her and another - but she was also reliable and he knew, if he allowed it, she would happily give her life for him. That was more than he could say for anyone he’s been in company with.
The woman looked away as the child’s hands left her face, and he moved away to follow another stray frog. Her face moved around, arm outreached to try and grasp the child. She barely missed the cloth that he wore, fingertips grazing the material. The Mandalorian was moving even before he could register, taking long and slow strides towards the two.
He doesn’t even register that Cara had spoken again, murmuring a quiet ‘is that a yes?’.
As soon as he is within reach of the child he kneels down, grasping the tiny green thing and bringing him into his arms. Mando doesn’t stand, instead turning to face the woman who’s looking towards him. If she never mentioned it, most would not know her to be blind. Though, her blindness did allow her “the privilege” of “seeing” light reflections (her words, the Mandalorian repeats to himself). Her eyes were not the thick cloudy grey most expected and were instead warm pools of honey. The iris itself, when looked at closely, was slightly deformed in both of her eyes. She never stared blankly past him, and always seemed to see him during the day time.
Like right now, she looked right at him with a tiny smile. Again, the word ethereal floated through his mind.
“Do you like it here?”
The question leaves her mouth softly, a tone of voice reserved for only calm moments like this. She was happy, the Mandalorian could see it so clearly. He knew she hated the restrictions of being on the ship, she had whined on more than one occasion that the sunlight “didn’t get through enough” - leaving her sightless. (‘You are blind’ he’d remind her as she clung to his arm. ‘I like to think I can see you in the sunlight, Din’ would come her reply in a prolonged whine.)
At the tilt of her head he realized he hadn’t replied. The Mandalorian sighed, setting the child down once more when he began to reach for the woman, “Yes.”
The woman hums, seemingly unconvinced as she leans down when the child’s hands find her face again. The Mandalorian tilts his head as he watches the interaction, tiny green hands palm at her cheeks, then her nose, then her lips - she blows a raspberry and the child lets out a screech of a giggle. The Mandalorian wants to smile at this, but can only frown as he focuses on the oncoming dread in the pit of his stomach.
“I won’t be staying here.”
She doesn’t look towards him as he speaks, and the Mandalorian shifts uncomfortably on his haunches for a moment.
After a long pause she replies, asking, “When will we be leaving?”
This is the conversation he had been thinking of before he began to admire her. Again, he finds himself tracing her features closely - soaking them in so he would never forget them.
Beautifully tanned skin, and those eyes like honey. She complained about her hair often, long and in unruly waves as they cascaded down her back and in her face. Tiny scars scattered all over her, and he felt like he saw a new one everyday. None were as prominent as the long keloid scar on her hand, but the tiny ones he always tried to remember.
“We won’t,” He can feel his palms sweating in his gloves and suddenly he wishes he could strip them off, “You will be staying here, with the child.”
Flashes of emotions cross her face in quick increments, as if she’s trying to decide what she wants to feel more in that moment.
She decides quickly, her face morphing into a look of hurt that he wished he could erase from his memory. Her eyes seem glossy, though he knows she won’t cry. But her cheeks start to flush, and her lips turn down while her brows furrow tightly in the middle of her forehead.
“You’re going to leave us?” Her tone is soft and disbelieving, and she breaths it with so much emotion that the Mandalorian has to look away from her. His heart tightens painfully in his chest, and he is disappointed that not even the beskar can protect him from this feeling.
“You could be happy here,” he tries to sound forceful, stern. But his voice instead only comes out as softly as hers did, soft and guilty. The Mandalorian hopes the modulator of his helmet helps aid in hiding the ache in his tone.
She grabs the child, sitting up straighter. With the child clung closely to her she stands, not looking in the direction of the Mandalorian anymore. He stands with her, and his hands twitch at his side as he resists the urge to reach out.
“Did you always want to get rid of me?” Her voice is stronger as the tone of her voice becomes more clear with hurt, “Is it because I can’t see?”
“No,” his reply this time is much more quick and confident. It was the truth.
Yes, she was not able to function, move and fight like others. He was more conscious of her and her inability to see but she was able to fight, she was able to hold her own for even a little bit and she was always able to patch the Mandalorian up in the confines of his ship because she couldn’t see. He trusted her enough to take care of him when wounds were too bad, and he had recruited her onto his ship because of her knowledge in medicine. Her being blind was not a factor in him leaving her and the child, it was truthfully the furthest thing from his mind.
He just wanted her to be happy.
The Mandalorian opens his mouth to tell her this, to explain that it was not because of her lack of sight. He didn’t want to leave her behind, all he wanted was for her to be as happy as she had been on there time in Sorgan.
The shot is loud, and rings in his head for a moment before he’s rushing towards the child and the woman who holds him. He pulls her behind him, one arm securely on her waist while the other holds a blaster out.
It turns out to be Cara, getting rid of a man who was sent after the child. The news breaks not only his heart but those in the village hoping the child would get to stay. The Mandalorian is somewhat distraught over the news, especially since she had not said a word to him since their conversation. He understood her anger, and only hoped that it would dissipate once it was just the two of them again.
Mando watches as she says her goodbyes to Cara and the Widow, smiling sadly at the two of them. Omera is pushing more clothes into her arms and Cara is patting her shoulder firmly. His companion only continues to smile sadly, one hand gripping onto Cara - who eventually leads her over to the Mandalorian.
The ride back to the ship is long and quiet, and Mando watches her as she pets the top of the child’s head with a single finger. She refuses to look in his direction, though he knows she can hear his movements and see the light reflecting on his beskar. The three get back to the ship late, with the child snug and asleep in her arms. She steps closely to the Mandalorian but does not reach out as she usually did when they board his ship. He sighs at the revelation, and instead places his hand softly in the middle of her back as he guides her through the Razor Crest.
They settle, and he moves around in the cockpit for a moment alone as she puts the child to bed. Eventually, she joins him as he begins to prepare to leave. She buckles herself in and closes her eyes as she leans back into the seat. The Mandalorian watches her through his peripherals, and decides to speak before they leave.
“I only wanted you to be happy.”
“I know.”
#the mandalorian imagine#the mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#i hope there aren't any mistakes as i am my own beta reader
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Tales of John and Gordon - Space Water
So I recently updated Bro on the "Pool Party with the Tracys" post, since I told him I made a post about it. The first thing he looked at was the amount of likes and reblogs I received, then he passed on to read all the comments. When he saw @janetm74 's comment, saying that maybe a series could be born from it (your wish had been granted 😘🤠), his eyes immediately shined with excitement and, after putting on his swimming costume (and forcing me to do the same) he got in the pool (and forced me to do the same). Once he assured himself that I was in the pool and was listening to him, he began narrating his little story.
"Once upon a time (dramatically)..."
...there was Gordon, sitting near Alan in Thunderbird 3. And nothing strange happened here. Another day for the Tracys, another mission to accomplish. Only that this one was a bit...unusual.
"So? Ready for today’s big mission?" Alan asked with a sly smile.
"You just have to move a medium-sized meteorite, nothing at all. I just don’t understand why you had to bring Thunderbird 4 into the load."
"Ah why, is there Thunderbird 4 in the cargo?" asked Alan surprised. "I didn't know."
"Sure. You never know anything."
"What I want to know is why I had to come too." John asked annoyed, sitting behind Alan and holding his arms crossed around his chest.
"Because Scott asked, and because he says the mission could be too hard and stuff. Don’t worry, there’s Grandma to handle emergency calls from Tracy Island."
"Yeah, I know that, but Scott, or even Virgil, could very well show up! Why me?"
"Oh, for God's sake! Just stay here!"
After a little time spent arguing -discussing, according to John- the three brothers had finally arrived at their destination, namely a large asteroid in the shape of a basin. You heard right, in the shape of a basin, which had to be moved before it collided with the Earth’s atmosphere.
"Why does this asteroid have such a strange shape?" asked John, a little biased.
"I don’t know, but all I know is that I have to go." Alan said stretching.
"What do you mean you have to go?" Gordon asked looking at him sideways.
"It is written here." he answered, reaching for something that had fallen to the ground. "So, in the script, it says that I have to go home, while you have to take Thunderbird 4 and with that you have to get the asteroid away from Earth and back home."
"But I don-"
"Enough, shoo, bye!" Alan interrupted John’s speech attempt by waving paper sheets very close to the faces of his two older brothers, driving them away to the cargo bay of Thunderbird 3, where Thunderbird 4 was.
The two poor people did just in time to take their helmets and wear them that were forced out of the pilot compartment, the door that separated the two compartments closed in front of their faces. "That one really leaves us here! With this thing!" John screamed desperately.
"Excuse me, Thunderbird 4 is not a thing. It’s my baby- WHY THUNDERBIRD 4 HAS LEGS AND ARMS!?!?" Gordon found himself screaming when he finally laid eyes on his yellow submarine.
"For that you have to thank us!" Brains and the Mechanic entered the conversation, appearing through hologram. "As per script." they then added, waving the same papers that Alan had in his hand a moment ago.
"What is this script and why didn’t I know about it? Why don’t I have one? Why does it exist in the first place???" John continued to ask the most obvious questions there could be, starting to lose patience.
Gordon, on the other hand, remained motionless like a statue, with a facial expression that was a mixture of the amused and the desperate. "I’m about to cry."
"Womp womp! Are you already in Thunderbird 4? I’m about to leave!" Alan spoke through the speakers of the compartment.
"Now...we enter...at least I think..." Gordon responded, stroking his submarine and getting in. John followed shortly after. "I think we’re off to go..." whispered the blond, when he was sure he was ready, or at least in a manner of speaking.
"Well. Bye bye!" replied the youngest, opening their door to the asteroid. The two had not even noticed that Alan had docked to the asteroid. How was it possible?
Gordon shook his head slowly, starting Thunderbird 4, and somehow making it walk towards the asteroid. It was only when they were safely on the asteroid and when Alan left that John noticed something. "Hey, isn’t that...water?"
"On an asteroid? What are you sayin-hey, now I see it too! It looks like water! Hey, Thunderbird 3, are you already on Tracy Island? Hhm? Strange, communications don’t work... Tracy Island? Can anyone hear me?"
The two inside Thunderbird 4 exchanged a look of common understanding; they were both estranged.
"As per script?" John asked very sarcastically.
"Let’s at least go see what it is. Let’s go below." Gordon replied, and in a moment they were both in the pool of water, which was also quite large. Both he and John sighed surprised at the sight of water on a mere asteroid. "Wow..."
The two found themselves diving for quite a while, on the one hand to see how the 'pool' on which they were located was deep and wide, and on the other they were scanning the asteroid’s water, which turned out to be perfect non-potable, clean and clear water.
But John paid attention to something else. "I’ve never been on Thunderbird 4 before." In fact, the red whispered that, standing behind Gordon, first observed the interior of the submarine on which he was on, and finally the strange water around them, looking at it as if he was on another planet.
The blond was about to mumble something back when a strange thing happened. In other words, that the water on here was suddenly solidified, also changing colour. "Do you see what I see? Isn’t that gold?" Gordon did not have time to say anything else that the water had already returned as before, clear, clean, and liquid.
"Waaaa, I absolutely must take a sample of this water! Who knows when we will have a chance like this again!" Gordon exclaimed, and John could not stop him that the blond was already out.
Gordon swam through that strange mass for a while, and then pulled out a small flask and tried to get water. All his attempts were in vain, because the water seemed to be alive. In fact, it moved every time Gordon tried to take it, and if a drop fell inside the flask this got out immediately, mixing with the other mass around him.
"Come on...why won’t you- come in?" He stammered him carelessly, but just as he was about to make the last attempt the water around him began to solidify again, assuming a golden consistency. And he was immobilized in there! " Ngn." he groaned, trying to free himself from that invisible socket, but he felt like he was just a simple mold. Luckily he was wearing a helmet...
As he attempted to free himself he counted two seconds, then the gold around him returned to be water and to flow regularly. "2 seconds..." he whispered, and without adding anything else rushed back to Thunderbird 4.
"I tried to call you...will our suits be out of communication?"
"I hope in Jesus they’re not broken. The communications, I mean."
"We’d better get out of here and get this asteroid out of the Earth’s atmosphere before it causes any damage. Did you collect the sample you needed?"
"No. The water seems to be alive."
"As in?"
"As in not getting caught. It moves as soon as I approach the flask to take it. We should drop everything here, and hope to find it all when Alan is back."
"If the script allows it, Gordon." answered John in a bitterwseet tone.
"To tell you the truth, I don’t really get it either, but I’m hoping to clear this up when we get to Tracy Island. Now let’s get these legs going!"
They’ve been walking for a while now, and Gordon couldn’t stop thinking about something. "What if we could take this asteroid on Earth with us? If we can’t take the water we take the whole basin."
"It’s not that simple. First of all, do you realize that we are taking it away from Earth? And then we wouldn’t know where to take it...and do you know how many rules we would break?"
"And who cares!" exploded Gordon excited. "Do you realize that this could be the greatest discovery in history and the universe?! Water that is in space and that can turn into gold, isn’t it worth breaking the rules for that? I would do it..."
John stayed to think about it. "Fine. We’re taking this laver to earth with us, although I don’t know how yet. But if it turns out to be a disaster, don’t take it personally. So, what's the plan?"
"So, we wait for the asteroid to enter the atmosphere and do its work. We will protect ourselves with the water inside; it should also dampen everything. Once we’re in the atmosphere, let’s see where this thing lands, and if it’s a inhabited place we do our best to deflect it."
"What if we don’t succeed? Our communicators are broken, and we can’t communicate in any way with Earth. It would be a global disaster, otherwise it would be discovered!"
"Let’s just hope it sinks into the ocean. That’s all I’m content with."
And in fact, Gordon’s prediction was correct. Not only did the asteroid land on the ocean, but it also landed very close to Tracy Island. "We couldn’t be more fortunate than that." The blond commented, taking off his helmet and taking a breath of fresh air.
Brains had already made some pre-exam both on the asteroid which, to everyone’s surprise, floated in the ocean as a sailboat, and also on the water contained within it. The results were coming out, but all John and Gordon wanted to do was to enjoy a well-deserved bagel. "Nice experience, but I’ll never do it again. I prefer the calm and quiet of Thunderbird 5 so much..."
"And I think I’ll stay in bed and rot for quite a while..."
"It’s going to explode!" Brains hurried into the living room, where he kept shouting this phrase agitated.
"Calm down Brains, and explain yourself better. What’s going to explode?"
"The asteroid! I-I don’t know why, but tests have revealed that this asteroid is m-made of a substance that in contact with oxygen becomes highly explosive!"
"Shit! Do we have to take it back to space?"
"A-and now! The substance is strangely familiar to me, and explodes after 24 hours of exposure. It’s been 20 hours since your return."
"I’d rather not take that shower...and sleep..." stuttered John. "I’ll go with you, Gordon, so once the mission is over I can go back to Thunderbird 5 and stay there forever."
"Whatever you say. I hope Alan will take us and not leave us there like last time."
"I’ll take you this time." Virgil appeared out of nowhere with a sly smile.
"Thunderbird 2 in space? And why?"
"... I’m up for it." answered the second with a grimace.
"There’s no time for that. Let’s get ready, and hurry."
The three quickly prepared, and in an instant they were in space, the asteroid behind them and returned properly into space. Thunderbird 2 began to fail, and so Virgil released Thunderbird 4 near the asteroid, to then return to Earth safely. After 5 minutes, Gordon was able to push the asteroid away so that it would never happen again near the solar system, and after a strange farewell he began to return to Earth. But, strangely enough, the asteroid exploded just as Thunderbird 4 had turned towards Earth.
(My brother is really into whump lately...)
"But what-" Gordon did not have time to replicate, that both bumped their heads, losing consciousness instantly. The last thing Gordon saw just before he lost consciousness was his ocean that welcomed him into its deep depths.
(Up to here I got tired of editing and I don't remember correctly what my brother had said, so in short terms the Hood, along with the Chaos Crew, kidnapped fainted John and took him God knows where, because Bro hadn't told me [his original plan was to make John die, so,,,]. Then Gordon awakens and decided to eat something instead of searching for his brother, because that's how you do it. The celery crunch bars he eats, tho, got poisoned by the Hood a moment while the 'Baldy Head' {necessary citation} was on TB4 to capture John; so Gordon's 'tummy hurts real bad' {necessary citation} but he eventually gets better because some sort of ghost finds John and takes Gordon back to Tracy Island. He was unclear on that part. Maybe I'll edit this 2nd part too and make a continuation of this. So, TBC?)
#thunderbirds are go#virgil tracy#gordon tracy#alan tracy#john tracy#tracy island#kayo and scott should be in there too#tag shitposting#because there's no way this is normal#Bro's prompts#he said it would be a little ficlet#LIAR#tracys in the pool
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Blood-Forged ch4
Summary: Din takes his young charge to a new planet with a new plan to hide. It quickly goes sideways after he meets another Mandalorian who has never seen her own kind.
Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Baby Yoda, enby!fem!OC
Pairings: Slow burn Din Djarin/OC because it turns out I’m a thirsty hoe
Warnings: Eh, right now it’s just in light PG-13 territory. Mentions of family death, some blood/violence/bodily harm. Will probably end up becoming smut later.
Word Count: 2333 (indefinite chapter count coming)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (you’re here!) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Aysa’s apartment was small, but cozy. They had walked into what looked like the main room, a combined kitchen and living space stuffed full of squashy, mismatched, secondhand furniture. A door to a bedroom that had to be Aysa’s judging by the green-painted walls stood ajar at one end, while two doors that led to what Din could only assume were a bathroom and the building proper were shut tight.
“You guys can take the bedroom,” Aysa said, pulling off her helmet and setting it on the dining table. “I imagine it’d be easier for you to sleep without your helmet.”
Din looked around and nodded. “Thank you. Though if the little one could sleep in here…?”
“Huh,” Aysa said, raising her eyebrows. “Even people who won’t remember your face can’t see it?”
Din shook his head.
“Alright, then,” Aysa said. “I’ll keep an eye on him. He doesn’t cry or anything, does he?”
“Not often.”
“Good,” Aysa said. “Because I like being able to sleep.”
Almost on cue, Baby began to make little whimpering noises. Din swooped down in an instant, picking him up and bouncing him gently. “Got any broth?”
“Think so. Stock okay?”
Din nodded, and Aysa stripped off her gloves, going to the kitchen and pulling out a pot from the icebox. She put it on the stove to heat before glancing at Din. “What about you? No foods that your Way won’t let you eat or anything?”
Din shook his head, and Aysa turned on the oven before going back to the icebox. “Afraid I’ve only got leftovers,” she said, sliding a meat pie into the oven.
“That’ll be fine,” Din said. He hovered by the table, studying Aysa’s helmet without touching it.
Aysa glanced behind her. “You can pick it up if you like,” she said, though there was a faint hint of trepidation in her voice.
Din picked it up, treating it with the respect it deserved. “You’re very fortunate,” he said.
Aysa glanced up at him. “Hm?”
“Your mother’s beskar,” Din said. “I don’t know if the practice was the same in your clan, but in mine, it’s traditional for armor to be passed down between family members.”
“It was the same in mine,” Aysa said. She smiled a little ruefully. “Nobody to reforge my mom’s armor, though, so it stays like it is.”
“When we find my clan again, I’ll ask the armorer to reforge it for you, if you like,” Din offered. “I think she would be honored to do it.”
Aysa’s eyes stung with tears, and she nodded, hastily turning away so Din wouldn’t see her struggling not to cry.
He noticed, of course. He noticed lots of things, after all, but it was kinder to pretend he hadn’t. He turned the helmet over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. “Did it belong to anyone before her?” he asked.
Aysa shrugged. “I dunno,” she said, focusing too hard on stirring the stock pot. “Never really asked before it… happened.”
Din nodded. He inspected the interior, nodding in satisfaction when he saw the internal wiring was compatible. It looked much newer than the rest of the helmet, and he wondered if Aysa had done the work herself. The soldering work looked clumsy, which made him think so.
Still—not bad for someone without training.
“When the soldiers attacked,” Aysa began. She cleared her throat and swallowed back the growing lump. “Well—Mom took a blaster bolt meant for me. She shielded me with her own body, but it missed her armor.”
Din inspected the half a scorch mark on the bottom of Aysa’s back plate. So his suspicions had been correct.
“I had to play dead under her body when they ran past us,” Aysa said. She shivered. “We were separated from my dad. I never did find out what happened to him.”
Din set the helmet down abruptly, and Aysa startled, looking around at him.
“I lost my own parents in an Imperial raid,” Din said at long last. “They hid me in a bunker. I never saw them again.”
“I’m sorry.”
Din shook his head. “Don’t waste your breath apologizing for things that weren’t your fault,” he said.
Aysa bit her lip, but nodded.
“The Mandalorians saved me after that,” he continued. “They took me in as a Foundling—but they didn’t do the same for you.” He left his words to trail upwards, the barest hint of a question. He’d leave it up to her if she wanted to share.
“Scavengers,” Aysa said. “They helped me get the armor off Mom, packed it in a bag for me. Dropped me off at the next planet over with a couple of credits and the bag and nothing else.”
Din frowned, his shoulders tensing. “You were a child.”
Aysa nodded, not turning around. “The rest of the people who took me in, one after another—some were kind. Some weren’t. Doesn’t matter—I survived, and I managed to keep ahold of the armor, and that’s what does.”
Din studied her for a moment. He was hardly the type to go around dishing out compliments, and he wasn’t about to start now. All he said instead was “That’s good.” He tapped the helmet in an obvious change of topic. “If you’d like, I can wire your helmet’s coms up so we can keep in contact.”
Aysa glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I’d like that.” She stooped to pull out the meat pie and dished some of it into a bowl; she looked around and grabbed a cutting board, putting the bowl, a fork, a napkin, and a glass of fruity cider on the makeshift tray. “Here,” she said, carrying it over to Din.
He took the tray, then glanced over at Baby, who was sniffing curiously at Aysa’s curtains. “I should feed him first.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Aysa said. “I’m not the most maternal person, but I do know how to get a baby to eat.”
“But—“
Aysa nodded at the cutting board tray. “Your food will get cold. And you’ve gotta be starving,” she added, raising her eyebrows. “If it really makes you feel better, you can always snarf it.”
Din smiled, but gave no indication of it that she could see. “Thank you,” he said, and disappeared into her room.
Organized chaos was probably the best way to describe it. Din paused just after shutting the door behind him to take a look around; it was clear the clutter had a pattern to it.
A row of alcohol bottles were lined up haphazardly on the windowsill, but their labels were all turned forward and they all had their matching lids or corks. The papers strewn on the desk were apparently sorted into teetering piles by category: bills, invoices, medical notes, bank information, insurance.
Din tugged the curtains shut before he pulled his helmet off and set it on the floor, running his fingers through his tangled hair. It always felt good to smell that first breath of air that wasn’t filtered through his helmet.
Books were stacked in strategically precarious rows on an old shelf, some tomes crammed in sideways on top of other books. As Din ate, he cast a curious eye over the titles. Lots of planetary encyclopedia books, but a fair amount of novels, political analyses, books on economic theory, electronics wiring.
Sometimes he wished he had the space for a proper library on his ship, but books took up weight and space, both of which were valuable commodities on a ship. Besides, it was unnecessary when he could simply download all the books he could ever want to read straight to his datapad.
The meat pie was good, and hot enough to nearly burn his tongue as he quickly ate, then chased it down with a gulp of cider.
Before he went back into the main room, he paused by the mirror to inspect his face. No new scars, but his hair and beard were starting to get scraggly. He’d need to trim them both soon.
Din grunted and put his helmet back on, retreating into the safety and anonymity it offered him. He picked up the tray and went back out, pausing and grinning when he saw Aysa sitting with the Womp-Rat at the table, coaxing him into eating one spoonful at a time.
“Here comes the TIE Fighter,” Aysa said, her voice noticeably higher-pitched and more sing-songy. “Open wide…”
The kid willingly opened his mouth for her to spoon in the broth, and he giggled and clapped his hands together after he’d swallowed.
Din was sure he hadn’t made any noise when he’d come in, but Aysa spoke without turning to look at him. “Food was alright?”
“It was. Thank you,” he said, setting the tray on the counter.
“Bet you don’t have many home-cooked meals on the ship,” Aysa said, and Din shook his head.
“It’s mostly ration bars,” he said. “There’s a galley, but it’s barely large enough to fit in even without my armor.”
“That does sound problematic,” Aysa said. “And you’re not a real big guy, either.”
Burg’s comment of “Tiny” came to mind, and Din rolled his eyes at the memory. “No,” he agreed neutrally.
“Hey, not saying that’s a bad thing,” Aysa said. “Means you need less beskar to be all armored up, for one. Right?”
Din grinned, knowing she’d be able to hear it in his voice. “I suppose.”
Aysa set the spoon down. “Are you smiling, Din?”
The sound of his name from unfamiliar lips was… strange. Not unpleasant, just unusual.
“I guess you’ll never know,” he said. “Go eat. I’ll finish here.” He pulled the bowl of broth towards him, beginning to coax the Womp-Rat into eating.
Aysa watched the pair for a moment, smiling. Her stomach growled, and she got up to help herself to a small serving of pie.
“So does Baby eat anything else yet, or just broth?” Aysa asked, sitting back down and digging into her food.
“Frogs,” Din replied, sounding slightly strained. “Preferably live.”
Aysa choked on her pie and began coughing. Without taking his eyes off the kid, Din reached over and thumped her squarely between the shoulders.
“Thanks,” Aysa gasped. “Frogs?”
“I’m trying to get him to stop,” Din said, reaching out to poke Baby on the nose. Baby scrunched his face up and leaned away, only to lean back when Din offered him another spoonful.
“Well, it doesn’t seem to have killed him yet?” Aysa offered faintly.
“Yet,” Din muttered.
Aysa made a small noise of sympathy. She dumped her empty plate in the sink and headed back out to the speeder pad.
Din eyed the plate in the sink. She’d barely taken several mouthfuls of food. She wasn’t kidding about not eating well, but he wondered how much of that was by choice.
Aysa returned with the crates from the speeder bike and set them down just inside the door, beginning to unpack one of them. She glanced up at Din; he ignored her, so she figured she was okay to continue. With one crate empty, she disappeared briefly into her room, returning with a thick blanket that she used to line it.
“Baby can sleep in here,” she said, and the kid’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice. “Settle him down whenever, but I’m tired.”
Din said nothing; Aysa shrugged and disappeared into her room, reemerging a few minutes later with a pillow and blanket under her arm. She was wearing nothing but a pair of thin sleeping trousers. Din glanced up and was suddenly quite glad she couldn’t see him staring.
He hadn’t been wrong: her chest really was boy-flat, distinctive white scars just under where her pectoral muscles curved. Surgical, unlike the other scars that lined her torso. Most of them were heavy burn scars like the one on her face, but a few on her arms and stomach where the armor didn’t cover looked like cuts or blaster hits. Not too dissimilar to his own.
She was lean and well-muscled as fit a mercenary, but thin enough he could count her ribs. He frowned. Muscled she might be, but there was no way that meant healthy. When she turned her back to him, his frown deepened. Parts of her spine—or maybe all of it—had been replaced, angry red skin growing up over the metal segments embedded in her back. It didn’t look like an old injury by any stretch of the imagination, especially judging by the twisting, ropy scar that stretched from shoulder to hip, cutting across her body.
He couldn’t imagine baring himself like that. It was the height of vulnerability, a complete lack of regard for one’s safety.
It was not the Way.
Not for him, he had to remind himself. For her, this must be normal.
Or—and this thought drew him up short—she was acting like this because she trusted him. It made a certain amount of sense. He trusted her as well. Not fully—they had only just met—but there was a certain respect that went to fellow Mando’ade that would grow stronger with time. The differences between their clans were a footnote in that larger picture.
Aysa lay down on the lumpy sofa and rolled herself into her blanket until the only parts of her Din could see were her toes and the top of her head.
Baby whined at him insistently and he quickly refocused his attention on feeding the child. As soon as Baby let out a soft, contented belch, Din gathered him up and set him in the makeshift cot in the corner of the room. Baby looked like he wanted to hold on, but he yawned as he was set down, big eyes slowly closing before he’d been fully laid in the cot.
“G’night,” came Aysa’s muffled voice from the corner.
Din’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Good night.”
#mandalorian#the mandalorian#fanfic#the mandalorian fanfiction#dyn jarren#OC#baby yoda#star wars#din djarin
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3 from Hell | Review
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“Hello, America. Did you miss me?”
When I first heard that Rob Zombie was getting the gang back together for a third chapter in the Firefly family’s journey, some pretty bittersweet emotions were experienced. It wasn’t just myself that felt a confusing mixture of “but, why?” and “FUCK YES.” It seemed as though a lot of Firefly following online didn’t think this needed to happen, but welcomed it anyway with an anticipation so unsure you could feel the tension a mile away.
The day of its release, 3 from Hell answered all of our questions we didn’t have about Otis, Baby, and Spaulding until its conception. Was the answer we needed satisfying? Was the film as good as we were hoping to be? Were the Firefly family truly back again to cause just as much havoc as we’ve seen them cause before?
This review could potentially be my shortest yet, as one could easily sum this movie up with two words: “womp womp.” How unfortunate 3 from Hell didn’t live up to expectations; especially when the expectations across the net weren’t that high to begin with. I’ll go ahead and get my few compliments for it out of the way, and then we’ll sit here and drown in the negativity, because I’m dead serious when I say this one was a stinker.
1.) Otis is more palatable, less over-the-top. (This could also be a negative)
2.) Richard Brake knocked it out of the park as Wolfman. Literally the only saving grace of the movie.
3.) Stellar soundtrack typical of Zombie’s films
There. Now that those two bits are out of the way, let’s dig in.
If you look at the description above that I screenshot from just a simple “3 from Hell” Google search, you can see that the description states “Crazed killers Baby Firefly, Captain Spaulding and Otis Driftwood unleash blood mayhem after escaping from prison.” That’s two-thirds of the way correct. Due to his health, it was understandable that Sid Haig couldn’t be a big part of the Firefly reunion. In the film, Captain Spaulding is understandably sentenced to death, and while we thought he was killed in the car scene from Rejects, this was an OK way for him to go as well, imo. So, no, Google, Spaulding doesn’t escape from prison.
One of the immediate questions that sparked for everyone as soon as 3 from Hell was announced was: “they’re not dead?” The last time we saw the three, they were headed full speed ahead into a hail of bullets, not backing down from a fight, and as a result - being pumped full of lead. Shockingly, they survived. I have so many unorganized thoughts on this alone that when I go to speak on it, all that comes out is a deep, clearly audible sigh. Before 3 From Hell, the Fireflys had the death they deserved, and one that fans were happy with even. Now they’re suddenly alive? It doesn’t make sense, but there wouldn’t be a 3 from Hell if it didn’t happen that way, I guess.
We don’t see too much of Otis in prison, but we do see quite a bit of Baby in prison, and she isn’t doing so good. She’s got a number of violations, not applicable for parole, and what’s left of her sanity is swirling down the drain as we see her firsthand experiencing hallucinations while in segregation. Moon’s acting is what you’d expect, but this time around it doesn’t feel like Baby is... Baby. Yeah, we’re obviously looking right at Baby Firefly on screen, but something is off. It’s not because she’s behind bars, but it’s because her character’s portrayal is so forced to the point I just don’t care anymore. I get it, you’re mentally unstable, but unfortunately now, you’re just not interesting or half as compelling as you were once before.
Otis on the other hand, a character that shouldn’t under any circumstances be allowed to see the light of day, nor have his cunning taken for granted, has (you guessed it!) his cunning taken for granted (SHOCKER) as he’s given a chance to see the light of day and uses this to his advantage to escape - all of which is caught on camera. Predictable, right? Why would any prison think that a murderer and psychopath to the extent of which Otis Driftwood is, is safe to be taken out from behind prison walls? Fuck whatever good behavior he might, or might not have displayed while inside the prison. Why would ANYONE with at least one functioning brain cell think that taking this man out of the prison anywhere is a good idea? Rant aside, this scene gives us a brief shot of Danny Trejo before he takes a laughably shoddy, beyond rotten CGI effect of a bullet to the head. With the help of his half-brother (portrayed by Richard Brake) we’ve never heard of til now, Otis makes his escape. Where does he go? Straight to the Warden’s house to work on getting Baby freed.
I hated the scenes at the Warden’s house. Despite the fantastic performance of everyone involved, these scenes just felt empty. The terror was visible as those held hostage are being hurt with no remorse by one of America’s most wanted, but other than the purpose of getting Baby back into the world, these scenes seemingly had no point. We already know what Otis is capable of, and Wolfman being a relative of Otis and Baby, we get that he’s liable to be one bad mother fucker himself. That being said, why did these scenes have to drag on so fucking long? It would have been much more appropriate, and less of a bore, to show Otis going in the home, and coming out with a body trail behind him. Our imagination alone of what could’ve happened would have been more entertaining than what was shown.
With Baby now out of prison, Otis makes the comment to his brother that prison did a lot of damage to Baby as what was left of her sanity is beyond fucked now. Baby, not too long after Otis’ sentiment being expressed, suggests going to Mexico as there’s no one looking for them there. The one individual who’s probably the most not sound of mind, that they didn’t even want to let go to the soda machine alone, comes up with the idea that can potentially secure their freedom. Seems a little out of place, but whatever.
Once in Mexico, surprise, surprise, trouble follows. A place they’d stated no one was looking for them had people that were - you guessed it - looking for them. Remember when Trejo was killed? His son, the leader of The Black Satans, wants vengeance for Otis having killed his father. Aquarius is tipped off where the three are staying and sends The Black Satans over to handle the job. This would have more than likely ended how Aquarius was hoping if Baby’s plot armor didn’t kick in by noticing the Satans pointing at her window, giving her a chance to notify her brothers resulting in a head start at surviving the situation.
The Black Satans come in and kill pretty much anyone that stands between them and who they’re after. After a bunch of innocents die, Baby and Coltrane (Wolfman) are taken hostage themselves while Aquarius offers Otis a chance at saving them via a one on one machete fight, not with Aquarius, but Creep, a very large member of The Black Satans. Otis abides and while we’re sitting here wondering what the fuck is going on, why the Firefly group is fucking going up against a gang, a cartel, whatever the fucking Satans are, plot armor kicks in again to save the day as a friend Baby has made cuts her and her half-brother free. Shit goes down and the movie ends not too long after with the three of them free to do as they please.
Even Richard Brake’s stellar performance wasn’t enough to save this Zombie film, just as it wasn’t enough to save 31, leaving him as one of the few highlights of the film.
I’m not sure if I had more questions before seeing it or afterwards. They get out of prison that easily? Why are we just now hearing about Coltrane even though he’s apparently a notorious murder himself? How is Baby going to be batshit insane behind bars noticeable enough to where her brother - the nut job he is - makes a comment about it, then the second and third act come and she’s seemingly sound of mind? Why the fuck are we expected to believe that three killers, one of which is completely mentally insane to the point of creating her own reality behind bars, is able to defeat an entire fucking gang in what seems to be less than an hour?
This film went off the rails in a way it truly didn’t have to. It is understood the Firefly family can get up to some crazy shit. It’s well known they’re dangerous individuals that you do not under any circumstances want to fuck with. It’s like Rob Zombie decided to construct a cash grab with some of his well known characters, yet had nowhere to go with it, so he decided to write the script as a failed ode to badassery.
All in all, this film had all the elements you’d expect from a Firefly movie and followed the same formula (if you will) as its two predecessors before it. There was blood (oh, lord, was there blood), plenty of violence, shitty acting on Moon’s part, tension, and plenty of memorable lines. We’re introduced to the gang again, shown how vicious they are, how insane they are, how ruthless, smart, and evil they are. We got what we knew we were going to get, but this time around it fell flat. Why? Because it was unneeded. The Firefly gang should have been left for dead at the end of Rejects. That Freebird backed ending was was the ending they needed. That was the ending the viewers needed. Instead, what we got was them miraculously surviving a hail of gunfire only to escape from prison and have loads of plot armor they didn’t really need.
Now having seen it, my only course of action for this movie is to just pretend it doesn’t exist. Rob, I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. Really, really disappointed.
3 out of 10.
#three from hell#3 from hell#horror#horror movie#trailer#review#spoiler alert#rob zombie#sid haig#sheri moon zombie#richard brake#bill moseley#firefly#devils rejects#house of 1000 corpses#disappointed
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Mary Sue Or Not?
Having climbed aboard the Reylo ship 10-11 months ago, I’ve written quite a bit about them as a couple and about Kylo/Ben, since he is endlessly fascinating on many levels and he is the last Skywalker heir.
But it’s time to shine some light on our girl Rey, the heroine of this fairy tale/gothic romance novel collision in space. And the first thing I want to address is whether or not it’s fair to call her a Mary Sue.
One problem we have is no one really can define what a Mary Sue is anymore; it’s become what former U.S. Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart once said about obscenity...you can’t define it but you know it when you see it. A lot of the time in modern parlance, it’s a lazy shorthand for “a female character I don’t like.”
But “Mary Sue” did mean something once and it was very specific. It was meant to describe an original character in fan fiction who was basically an idealized version of the author, there to suck all of the gravity of a particular universe in her direction. Someone I knew in Star Wars prequel fandom once described a Mary Sue as a fundamental writing error. I would add it’s the kind of error (usually) young, inexperienced writers who aren’t familiar enough with the source material tend to make.
The OG Mary Sue from the zine Menagerie #3.
The term “Mary Sue” came from a satirical Star Trek fan fiction (“A Trekkie’s Tale”) written in the ‘70s meant to spoof these kinds of stories. The heroine, Mary Sue, is the youngest Starfleet officer at 15.5 years old and is half-Vulcan. Everyone falls in love with Lt. Mary Sue; of course Capt. Kirk hits on her but being a woman of virtue, she rebuffs him. She dies a tragic death trying to save the Enterprise and is mourned by all (in the early days, Mary Sues often died tragically and heroically). Since then Mary Sues have become more sophisticated and varied, but are often marked by their extraordinary skills, unusual but beautiful appearance, and ridiculously convoluted names (”Mary Sue” is pretty vanilla these days for a Mary Sue). They also stubbornly refuse to die. But the principles remain the same: the Sue is the always the center of attention, the Sue is always a usurper, and the rules of the canonical universe/characterizations always bend or break to justify a character who really doesn’t fit into that universe at all. For example in “A Trekkie’s Tale,” the normally stoical Mr. Spock blubbers like a baby at Mary Sue’s funeral. In the infamous “My Immortal,” the denizens of Hogswarts are transformed into suicidal bisexual “goffs” to accommodate its Draco-humping vampire anti-heroine “Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.” (”My Immortal” just might be the 21st century internet troll’s version of “A Trekkie’s Tale.”)
I started reading Star Wars fan fiction 26 years ago and every now and then, I’d run into a Mary Sue. More often than not, she was Force-sensitive and was usually paired with Luke. In older zines, particularly ones pre-TESB, I’d see the kind often paired with Han Solo that I’d called “Spacer Sues.” About 20 years ago I wrote a fic spoofing Star Wars-style Mary Sues called “Hello Jedi Sue.” In the story the main character Sue was sucked up into a tornado and sent into the GFFA. She had a higher midichlorian count than even Anakin and immediately upon meeting Luke, he realizes she is destined for him. Over the course of the story, she leads Rogue Squadron to victory against a stray Sith Lord who turns up out of nowhere (she’d never flown an X-wing before), she pilots the Falcon through an asteroid field after Han suffers a heart attack, and of course she trains to be a Jedi. Leia is kind of chilly to her at first but comes around and gives her a ring that once belonged to Queen Amidala, the only memento she has left of her birth mother. Some apprentice gets jealous of her and pushes her off the top of the temple to her death. Leia declares it a worse tragedy than Alderaan. Everyone’s crying and stuff but Sue uses her Force superpowers to resurrect herself. She and Luke marry and she immediately gets pregnant. Obi-Wan’s ghost appears to tell the happy couple she is his granddaughter and Qui-Gon’s great-granddaughter (don’t ask).
So you might say TFA raised my eyebrows because some of it reminded me of “Hello Jedi Sue.” Before everyone hits the unfollow button, I DO NOT think that Rey is a Mary Sue.
I’ll break it down like this. In order for a character to be a Mary Sue, the character must do most if not all of the following:
Be an idealized version of the author.
Be the center of attention, even in situations where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate.
Bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in.
Possesses highly unusual but beautiful looks and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills.
Be irresistible, especially sexually irresistible, to everyone.
Usurp the roles played by canon characters and their importance.
So, let’s go over that list with Rey in mind.
1. Is she an idealized version of J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, Lawrence Kasdan, or George Lucas (who created Rey’s progenitor “Kira”)?
Uhh, I doubt it. It’s not just that Rey is obviously not of the same sex, but she doesn’t seem to exhibit anything that reminds me of these men in real life. Sure she’s packed with girl power but so what? So are Lara Croft, Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, Padme Amidala, Xena, Leia Organa, Black Widow, Wonder Woman, that dragon chick from Game Of Thrones, Ahsoka, etc..
2. Is she the center of attention, even where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate?
She’s the main hero(ine) of this trilogy and the avatar for the audience but she serves the same function that Luke Skywalker did in the OT or Anakin Skywalker did in the PT. So of course the story is going to focus on her. But if she was genuinely a Mary Sue, she would be doing everything of importance in the film to the point of making everyone else useless. They could be sitting by the sidelines having a beer while she’s basically running the movie.
3. Does she bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in?
This is one point where I think a lot of the contention lies. She gets accused a lot of being “overpowered.” Well, what does that mean? The way I see the narrative shaping up after two films, she is obviously very powerful in the Force but TLJ makes it clear her power level is the same as Kylo’s. I think the movies are hinting she and Kylo/Ben are something new and unique, a creation of the Cosmic Force in its post Anakin-balanced state. I hope we get more of an explanation of this because I think it would go a long way to reassure people.
On that note, another common complaint is that Rey takes on skills rapidly with minimal training. I admit, I felt this was a problem the first time I saw TFA. I couldn’t understand why for instance she was able to use the Jedi mind trick so quickly without any training. By contrast, Luke wasn’t able to use the mind trick until ROTJ. I couldn’t understand why she was able to defeat someone trained in the Force in a lightsaber duel, regardless of his mental state or injury. It took until I saw TLJ and saw some comments from one of the story groupers that I understood she’d basically downloaded Kylo’s skills when he entered her mind and she’d entered his. Now I get it. But this is one criticism I still have of TFA; it didn’t make that clear enough to the audience. There’s a reason why George Lucas spent time letting you know Luke was a good bush pilot on Tatooine who could shoot womp rats in his T-16 or Anakin could win a pod race...it’s so that when they fly out to blow up something at the end of the movie, you’re able to understand why they can do that. Sometimes you do have to make movies so that the common idiot can figure it out!
Now a critic might argue that Rey Matrixing her way to Jedi skills is lazy. Maybe the filmmakers wanted to make sure they had a protagonist able to get into the mix early on because there weren’t enough Force-sensitive characters around who could’ve taken on Kylo. But then again, did we really see the OT or PT spend a lot of time on training? Luke fought Darth Vader after about 25 minutes of training in TESB and we never saw Anakin train at all; 10 years had passed between TPM and AOTC and by the latter film, he was able to do all kinds of cool stuff. And TLJ makes it clear that while Rey had the skills, she still needed direction and instruction. She thought the Force just controlled people and made things float!
And sometimes the audience misses things, especially if they only see a movie once. For instance, the first time I saw TFA I was baffled why Rey was able to pilot the Falcon. It seemed like Little Miss Desert Scavenger just hopped into the cockpit and away she went, whereas if I just got on a spaceship for the first time ever, I’d crash that mo-fo pretty quickly. Then when I saw the film again some time later, the dialogue makes it clear she IS able to pilot. She never left Jakku not because she couldn’t leave but because she was still waiting for her loser parents to come back.
4. Is she irresistible to everyone?
Mary Sues always get a reaction out of every canon character and that reaction is a strong one. It’s always fierce devotion, instant BFFs forever, undying passionate and true love, boiling-over lust, or pure loathing and hatred (that of course turns into the opposite or the hater is toast). There’s never indifference, or relationships that take time to build, or first impressions that turn out to be wrong, etc.. And it’s always instantaneous.
Most of the good guys like Rey but is any of it different from how characters took to Luke in the OT or Anakin in the PT? Not really. The only thing that stands out is Leia running over to hug the girl she’s known for part of a movie over Chewbacca but even Abrams admitted he’d goofed. And one instance does not a Mary Sue make.
The only characters who have more intense feelings for Rey are Kylo and Finn and in both cases, those feelings are complicated.
5. Does she have a highly unusual but beautiful appearance and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills?
Note the lack of rainbow hair and silver eyes.
Daisy Ridley is a beautiful young woman but as Rey, it seems like if anything they’re shooting for more of a natural, earthy beauty that befits her character. There’s nothing unusual about how she looks or how she dresses. She looks like she would almost fade into the crowd if you didn’t know who or what she was. Mary Sues on the other hand ALWAYS have to be noticed for their looks.
As for Rey’s skills, this is another thing people criticize. But in the Star Wars universe, being a Force-user isn’t alone an indication of Mary Sue-dom. Now if Rey was more powerful than anyone else ever, even Anakin Skywalker, that would be a Mary Sue issue. But the films make it clear that she isn’t more powerful than everyone; her power level is the same as Kylo’s. Her only advantage comes from being the more morally correct character in the story.
Her other skills are explained in the films and are nothing unusual in the Star Wars universe. She’s a good pilot but not such an ace everyone’s saying she’s better than Wedge Antilles, Poe Dameron, and Luke Skywalker combined. She’s a grease monkey but that comes from years of scavenging. Her talents aren’t just dropping out of the ether.
A Mary Sue would be the most powerful Force user ever, the greatest pilot of all time, someone who could teach space aeronautics at MIT at the age of 20, have an IQ higher than Einstein’s, be the greatest and most ingenious hacker, a better leader than Leia, a better shot than Annie Oakley even while drunk, cook like Julia Child, have sex like a porn star, have a singing voice like an angel, and is all-around the best at everything that needs to be done at any given time, ALL OF THE TIME. That’s not quite what we’re getting with Rey.
6.. Does she usurp roles played by canon characters and their importance?
This is another area of heated contention and it depends on what you believe are the filmmakers’ intentions. Are they setting Rey up to be the “real” Chosen One, essentially changing Lucas’s story? Are they setting up the Skywalkers as unworthy so Rey has to basically take their place as the “gods” end their cursed line?
Believe it or not, I was really worried this was exactly what Disney was going to do. Now, I don’t think this is the case. If anything, Rey is there in part to save the Skywalker line and legacy, not to end it or steal it for herself. But I suspect there are a lot of fans who still think this is where they are going in IX, so of course they’re going to resent Rey.
I came to the conclusion after seeing TLJ that while Rey is important and the lead character, she’s not the center of gravity in the story. Kylo Ren is. Pay attention; nearly everything that’s happening in the films is in some way because of him or related to him. It’s harder to believe she’s some random OC who broke into the Star Wars saga to suck the attention away from the Skywalkers once you realize this.
All of these said, there’s one more reason why Rey is not a Mary Sue.
Canon characters by definition cannot be Mary Sues!
It drives me nuts that people call canon characters Mary Sues. The whole point of a Mary Sue is someone who doesn’t really fit in with a universe so the universe is fit around her. Bella Swan may be a lot of things but she’s not a Mary Sue. (Now if you wrote a Twilight OC who pushes out Bella, gets Edward to fall in love with her, and gets Edward to give up his vampire ways and become a Christian, THAT’s a Mary Sue.) Now, some fans won’t accept anything Disney produced as canon but this is what we’ve got and it’s all we’re getting.
I don’t know who did this--I found it on Know Your Meme--but it’s a decent guide.
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