#Little Kyber Thoughts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourneighborhoodporg · 2 months

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Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

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mitchellpete · 9 months

Text

Warmth

summary: Ethan has been gone more frequently. You try to cherish the sleepy morning with him.

pairing: ethan hunt x gn!reader

tags/warnings: established relationship, you don’t know ethan’s an imf agent, mild angst, mostly fluff, cuddles and kisses, very light suggestiveness

word count: 1162

dedicated to @kyber-crystal!

A sigh of content against your shoulder.

Having already been on the verge of awakening, Ethan’s lips on your skin seal the deal. The sunlight is hard on your eyes, your lids heavy with sleep. Eyelashes flutter against your undereyes, and then you’re staring straight at the light seeping in through the curtains, and your eyes close again.

Behind you, Ethan notices you’ve awakened, and the tight grip around your waist loosens just enough for him to tilt you towards him. You lazily help roll yourself over, his scent making you hum in delight. He’s shirtless; had gotten into bed after a fresh shower the night before. Home late from whatever they had him doing at work. It was getting a bit sad, frankly, having to pretend he was in bed with you by hugging his pillow. It was the only way you could get yourself to sleep without him lately; that and the fact that he would slip into bed eventually. Sometimes it was just an hour later, but sometimes it wasn’t until morning.

It ashamed you to say, but this had pushed you over the edge a few days ago. You were doing laundry, separating the colors from the whites, and, while looking down at the clothes, realized most of it was yours. One pair of his pants, a pair of his socks and three of his shirts. One of them had been worn by you. A tear had slipped down your cheek before you could even process it. Why wasn’t he here?

He was so perfect to you. You couldn’t possibly keep asking him. He was at work. Studying, learning, providing for the department. He couldn’t always be home.

But when he was home..

It was a struggle between wanting to appreciate it, and remembering that he was going to leave eventually. And who knows if he’d take longer to return the next time?

The thought crosses your mind when you meet his eyes. They’re glossy with sleep, a gentle smile on his face as he takes a good look at you in the morning light.

“Morning.” His voice is raspy, the way you like it.

“Good morning,” you whisper, bringing a finger up to twirl his hair. The strand lands on his forehead, and he pushes it back into place with a chuckle.

“You sleep okay?” He leans in and pokes your cheek with his nose, arms tightening around your frame again.

Scooting closer, you stretch in his grip, ridding yourself of the knots in your body. And then you sink into his warmth, and nothing has ever been more perfect. Hands sneak around his waist, nails lightly raking his back. “Better than okay, actually.”

He grins; likes your touch. “That so?”

Your forehead against his clavicle, you close your eyes again and nod with a smile. “It’s been a while.”

His fingers weave between your hair. “Since?”

You frown. You’re torn again. You immediately wonder if he’s bound to get up any time soon. If you won’t see him until the following morning, after he’d slipped into bed at 3AM again. Swallowing hard, you think maybe the warm and sleepy circumstances will make for an easy conversation. You think maybe he’ll give you the reassurance you very desperately need, and then you’ll go back to sleep and spend the day together. If only.

“I just missed waking up with you. Like this.”

For a moment, silence. You shift a little to ease it, moving downward so that you can lean your cheek on his chest.

Ethan doesn’t overcomplicate things. Never has, never will. “I know, I’m sorry,” he says quietly, pressing two kisses to your head.

You exhale, having expected a more elaborate response, but anything from Ethan is always more than enough. Because, even hardly around, there’s nothing he’s better at than making you feel okay. Safe. Comforted.

Missing him is a pain. But he’s yours. It’s your body he wraps himself around every night. You’re never going to doubt his loyalty to you.

And he shouldn’t ever doubt yours, either.

“It’s okay,” you mumble against his pec, lips meeting his warm skin.

He knows, though. Can read you better than anybody. And he’s most likely been in a tight spot, probably overworking himself. Your finger bumps into a spot on his back, and he winces. Definitely overworking himself. It’s alright with you, if he hadn’t noticed. You haven’t exactly communicated the problem. Haven’t told him how lonely you are without him. Don’t want him worrying about you at work.

Ethan takes your chin between his fingers; gently lifts your face from his chest to meet your eyes. You sink into his gaze, into his pretty green orbs. He leans in then, soft lips pressing against yours. You feel like you’re melting as he kisses you. It’s soft and slow, and wet. It’s always so good it makes you moan. He shudders when he hears you.

Strands of his hair fall to his forehead as he leans into you, kissing you like he’s doing it for the first time. Seeing what works, what doesn’t. But he knows you. You feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, like you’re becoming one with it.

You whimper against his mouth, a sound delicious to his ears, and he pulls away to look down at you.

You lean up to peck his lips one, two, three more times, and cup your hand around his cheek.

He grabs your wrist; brings your hand to his lips for a kiss there too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

You blink slowly, hazy from his kisses. Wanting to be engulfed in his warmth again. You pull him down from the back of his neck, and half of his body ends up on top of you. His weight feels nice, his heat returning.

“Why do you take so long to come home?” you blurt out, voice soft. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, leaning to meet his lips again.

He kisses you back eagerly, and then trails his mouth down your jaw. “There’s so much I want to tell you.” Lips against your neck. “And I—” A kiss. “—I promise that one day this’ll all make sense.”

A small, lazy bite to your skin. A dirty moan escapes you, and he shudders again. “Those noises,” he whispers.

“I trust you,” you assure him, fingers toying with the back of his hair. “I just want to sleep in with you more often.”

He grins again. “I will most definitely arrange that, actually.”

“Good.”

Your grip on the back of his neck brings him closer, his face planting on your chest. He melts into you this time, strong arms wrapping around your torso as he makes himself comfortable. The sheets are tangled between your bodies, but you’re warm enough without them; Ethan’s body doing all the work. The position lulls the both of you to sleep again in the late morning.

#ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x female reader #mission impossible #mission: impossible #mission impossible fic #mission impossible fanfic #*

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spectral-musette · 28 days

Text

I'm running a few days behind on Satine Week, but I finally finished a very short fic (just under 600 words) set during the Manadalore Mission (pre-Episode I) for the prompt "Jewel".

...

Satine let out an exasperated huff as she set her data reader aside with more vehemence than necessary.

“What?” Obi-Wan prompted. He also set aside the archaeology periodical he was browsing on his own reader, knowing from prior experience that if he ignored such displays she’d only sulk. After all, if the ruins of the temple uncovered by Master Cordova had waited centuries for discovery, his study on the topic could wait until Satine had vented her ire a little.

She picked up the reader again, showing him the headline that had so offended her. He squinted at the thin, spiky Mandalorian runes, deciphering and translating as fast as he could before she grew impatient.

“’The Jewel of Kalevala’,” he read aloud, demonstrating his growing fluency in Mando’a. She didn’t correct him, so he assumed he’d translated correctly. She was evidently too annoyed to be impressed with his intellect just then, and he tried not to be overly put out at the wasted effort. “That’s you?” he concluded, uncertain.

“Oh, indeed,” she repeated, voice falsely smooth, the expression on her beautiful face deeply indignant.

“That’s…bad?” Truthfully, he was perplexed. It didn’t seem like such a negative epithet. In fact, he thought it rather fitting, though he knew better than to say as much when she was making that face.

“Of course it is,” she said, tossing the reader back onto the table.

He crossed his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “Then I suppose it doesn’t mean that you are… treasured, beautiful?”

“In Basic perhaps,” she conceded a bit more calmly, showing forbearance with his ignorance of her culture despite her peevishness. “To a Mandalorian, the implication is…” She paused to gesture, her hand graceful even as she waved it about in frustration. “A sparkling bauble. Something frivolous, merely decorative, without strength or purpose.”

“All that in one word?”

She shrugged. “If Mandalorians excel at something besides pointless destruction, it’s insulting each other with economy.”

He reached to unclip his lightsaber from his belt and set it on the table in front of him.

She cocked her head, fair brows furrowing in a charmingly perplexed expression. “Are you going to fight the data reader on my behalf?” she asked with a soft snort of a laugh.

He spared her a half-smile before he turned back to the saber, deactivating the power cell and starting to unfasten the casing. “Obviously not. I want to show you something.”

Her intent gaze did distract him a little as he went through the familiar motions of disassembling his lightsaber. He slowed a little lest he fumble a critical component in self conscious clumsiness. Still, it only took a few moments to reveal the kyber crystal. He turned it a little, letting it catch the light. It sparkled, clear as ice, and seemed to glow from within.

“When you say ‘jewel’, this is what I think of,” he explained. “That’s why I thought the word suited you,” he added, glancing at her quickly. He bit his tongue before he waxed poetic about the color of her eyes. She was clearly in no mood for flattery about her looks, even if it was genuine.

“It is beautiful,” she breathed.

“It is, but it’s more than that as well. It channels energy, amplifies the Light. It’s incredibly precious, remarkably powerful.”

“I wish that’s what they meant,” she said sadly.

“You will show them what kind of jewel you are,” he promised.

“I will certainly try,” she agreed, reaching out to take his hand.

#Satine Kryze #Satine Week 2024 #Duchess Satine #obitine #(but just softly though)#I wrote a thing

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 3 months

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Ladyhawke AU (John Price x Rory Sinclair)

*once again proving that I am insane for these two. Ladyhawke is a little 80s film starring Rutger Hauer, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Matthew Broderick. Filled with so much goddamn yearning it makes me sick. Watched it recently and immediately was taken with the blorbo ship thoughts and thus had to draw them immediately.

art tag list: @adelaidedrubman @roofgeese @wrathfulrook @quantum-lover @henbased @cloudofbutterflies92 @nowandthane @illmetbymoonlight @chloekistune @ocdemon-747 @aceghosts @amalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @finding-comfort-in-rain @carlosoliveiraa @mccarthycormac @chazz-anova @galaxycunt @galaxyfish @skoll-sun-eater @luciferstempest @shellibisshe @cassieuncaged @kyber-infinitygems @nightbloodbix @voidika @testyfestyenthusiast @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @clicheantagonist @strafethesesinners @afarcry5fromstraight @statichvm @derelictheretic @marivenah @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @solstheimart @strangefable @stacispratt

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!!

#call of duty #john price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #fan art #ship: you are the sword to my shield #ladyhawke au #my art #skelly sketches

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penvisions · 2 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 14}

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

Summary: The Empire will cease at nothing to gain what it wants, but you're determined to fight back at any cost. Flanked by the renown Mandalorian and those he recruited for such a mission, you willingly walk into the trap set by someone from your past.

Word Count: 12k (i'm sensing a new pattern here....)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical gore, canon typical fighting, canon typical language, minor character death (not detailed), star wars cursing, modern day cursing, violence, fighting, description of injuries, mentions of blood, references to life threatening injuries, poison, descriptions of anxiety, descriptions of ptsd, violent reactions to trauma, dangerous reactions to trauma, references to past sa (not detailed), fire, explosions, battle descriptions, use of reader inserts given name as a plot point, um there's a whole lot going on in this but please let me know if i missed anything?

A/N: um, hi, gonna drop this and run away. okay, bye, love you

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Darkness blanketed the landscape quickly, the sun setting and taking with it the sense of comfort.

In the dark, tensions seemed to rise. Bounty hunters used to working in solace and three individuals who had been on their own for as long as they could remember out of self-preservation was not a good combination to put out in the already hard to traverse terrain of the lava flats. The amber glow of the lava was bright as it wound through the rough volcanic rock of the ground, split open into wide valleys in some places. The sound of it a constant clinking that hummed in your ears as it echoed across the open land. Akin to glass shards being tossed and tumbling together.

An errant thought of hunger led to the slaughter of a goat, one of many that had been seen across the sprawling landscape throughout the day’s travels. The remnants of it on a makeshift roasting spit above the crackling fire. You had opted out, choosing to stick to the dried fruit hidden away in the pouch attached to your thigh. Cara had tried to hide her knowing smile as you slid one into Din’s gloved hand and he lifted it underneath his helmet in the guise of adjusting it. But you had seen it, just as she had seen the small exchange.

Kuiil was quiet, taking his role of caretaker seriously as he sat on Din’s right, feeding small bites to ad’ika from the roasted meat.

“I guess the little bugger’s a carnivore.” Karga spoke up from his relaxed position to your left. He was half laying down on his side, one arm propping him up and a knee bent to help steady himself. Watching eyes taking in the odd gathering of people he had assembled around the campfire. “Never seen anything like it.”

He was contemplative for a second, humming before he spoke again.

“They were ready to pay a king’s ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie.”

“And for you, lovely San.”

“It’s Sarad.” He’d barely gotten the last consonant of your name out before you quickly corrected him, not wanting it to be said aloud. It was risky enough that he knew it, had known it nearly as long as Din, but you didn’t trust it coming from his lips. You hardly wanted Din to use it, still conditioned to keep it a secret as close to your heart as possible, wary of it getting back to your mother, the people who already knew of your exact location and with whom you were now traveling with. Even using your self-appointed name, folded into your identity the second it had fallen from your once guardian could jeopardize your efforts to remain a shadow and go unnoticed. But the chances were more slim, less likely someone would take notice.

“Apologies,” He aimed a small smile your way, head knocking back to see you fully from his spot. “For the lovely Sarad…they were ready to decimate the town in order to search for you once they found out you had visited. The rumblings stirred by the mere hint of your presence were indeed very impressive. Is it true that you have a lightsaber?”

“The only way you’re gonna see it is when it’s drawn on you.”

“Ha-ha! Such vigor, I like it. You intrigue me, dear Sarad. But I’m sure there’s much more to know about you if you’ve managed to catch the attention of Mando here. He’s never taken on a traveling companion in the years I’ve known him. Must be something truly special.”

“Let’s go over the plan again.” Din directed the conversation away from you, not liking how much Karga wanted to engage with you. Wondering how long he had held onto your puck while he waiting for the Mandalorian to make his way back to Nevarro in between jobs, the once activated tracker and the holder of your scant personal information something he both regretted and thanked the Maker for ever having been privy to. More so the former, he would admit to you in the cover of darkness aboard the Crest.

“Alright, well, we both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him.”

“What’s the client’s name?” You interjected, warning bells beginning to wind up in your psyche. A low thrumming tone that was gaining volume as the conversation went on.

“Classified.”

“If I knew who it was, I could give you an idea if it’s going to be as simple as that. Most ranks that actively meet with those they’re trading with aren’t that high, they work as a front for the person who holds the power. The command and forces to hold up threats to ensure that deals get made in their favor.”

“Tell me about his reinforcements.” The visor was panned toward you, keeping you both in his line of sight. Unsure of how your interaction would play out, but knowing how Karga was, he worried for the man picking at unseen wounds and soft spots you kept hidden from people well. He could see them in you, picked up on them in the time he had spent with you. The conversations you both shared and the confessions given to him with trusting and willing lips.

“They’re all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they’ll scatter.”

“And what if they don’t?” Cara looked to you, eyes catching your own in the glint of the firelight, doubtful frown marring her beautiful features that you tried not to mirror. But it was true, they wouldn’t scatter. It was never that simple with the Empire, ruling and controlling not only with the promise of monetary compensation but the threat of violence and decimation of any who defies them.

“They will.” Karga pushed, not knowing exactly what he was dealing with and unprepared in the most worrisome of ways in how he’s concocted his plan. As if he were dealing with members of the Guild and not an once galaxy wide regime clinging to power as people believed. But it was alive and well, in some pockets and this happened to be one of them flourishing on Nevarro.

“That’s not good enough.” Din looked across from you toward the still relaxed and half lounging man. “If Sarad has intimate knowledge of how they operate, we need to heed her words.”

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust me, I barely trust you. You nearly landed a kill shot when I saw you last. But her? Mando, she could be playing us both and we wouldn’t even know it. Just trying to get her own intel to figure out how to play us all against each other and reap her own rewards from the rubble.”

“Insinuating that might as well be your resignation on this whole kriffing thing.” Cara barked, causing the others around the fire to jump. “She has more at stake here than any of us, having been forced to work with them in the past.”

“It’s alright cyar’ika. I’m used to people not trusting me.”

“If, for argument’s sake, a few of them don’t realize that I’m their best path for alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and one of their own ranks that has managed to break away will cut down anyone who bucks.” He sat up completely, motioned to each person he was talking about. Confident, self-assured, cocky. And oh, so wrong.

“How many will there be?”

“No more than four.”

“Bantha shit.” For all the bristle and heat in your words, you looked collected. But Din caught the way your eyes glinted as you sat between them, and it could only be compared to the way they had done back on the ship when Karga’s transmission had played. The discussion that resulted from it stirring something inside of you that despite being aware of it and doing your best to tamp down, was manifesting in ways the Mandalorian was picking up on. And it worried him, your whispered words of your history echoing in his mind.

White sabers have been purified.

Din’s hand was discreet as it brushed up against your own, the plate of beskar protecting the back of his hand cool against the tips of your exposed fingers. With a small huff, you tangled them with his own and settled down further in your spot. Comforted that the cover of night would shield the contact from those around you, even with their aided vision should they have the mechanics for night vision in their goggles, resting atop their heads as they sat across from you. The conversation quickly dissolving into an argument, one that you nor Karga surely had the energy for.

“Are you questioning my intel?”

“I’m calling a bluff when I see one. There is absolutely no reason why a quarry of ad’ika’s caliber would only warrant four.”

“He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. I’m beginning to think it would be best if we were to tie this one up and make it look like a true capture. Trust me.” He continued on as he stood, wiping his gloves on his pants to ride them of dirt. He was about to open his mouth to say more genuinely placed words of encouragement when an animalistic screech pierced the air and the flap of giant leathery wings of a beast swooped low and claws swiped at his arm.

His scream spurred everyone to scramble into motion.

It was chaos, the haunting sounds of their wings bringing them low to swipe at any weakness in your group it could find. Din bent to activate the closure of ad’ika’s pod, sealing him in safely to avoid him getting targeted. You were turning with your own blaster raised high and rushing behind Kuiil as he tried to ward off the creatures from taking one of the blurrgs.

When it had been successful, you turned to Din with the question of direction on the tip of your tongue.

Din’s hands were steady as he fired on the imposing figure closing in on you both, as you felt the swoop of giant wings behind you, and you tried to reach out for him with a call of his name. Panic making you forget that it was a secret just between the two of you, the fear of being torn apart spurring it from your lips.

A snarl fell from your lips right after his name as you felt massive claws grasp the fabric of your cloak and lift you up from the ground.

The snarl turned into a shriek of your own as the claws ripped through your clothing and dug into the skin of your shoulders, carrying you off into the air.

Legs swinging as you struggled to maneuver in the tight grip the creature had clamped over your shoulders as you tried to shield the pod ad’ika had hidden himself in. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was safe inside of it if they had still managed to pluck it up from between everyone. Wind whipped around you as you tried to gather your bearings, eyes stinging as dust and dirt whirled up all around you. The dark landscape dizzying as it lit up with blaster fire and the glint of it off the armor everyone donned and the beasts’ bodies.

You took a breath, trying to settle your overworking mind when it decided to recall the way it felt the last time it had been flung and lifted into the air. But that was different, this wasn’t an explosion knocking you off your feet and sending you sprawling a great distance from where you had been. This wasn’t the nightmares or memories that plagued you endlessly. This was a creature that had seen an opportunity for an easy meal and you had to focus and get out of it.

Faintly, you heard you name shouted, a rough and angry sounding thing echoing behind you. It fueled you, pushing you to reach up despite the claws digging in your shoulders, ripping through the layers of your cloak and clothing, scrabbling on the smooth expanse of the chainmail you had donned for the excursion. But still, it sunk in between the rungs of metal, stronger than the material and pierced skin despite the protection.

Massive leather wings flapped above you, wind whipping up and disorienting you as you felt gravity lurch. It was hauling you, taking you higher and away from the conflict. You worried just how far it could travel and tried to orient yourself before it was too late.

Hands scratching into the thick skin of the creature’s feet, you stabbed a knife deep into the joint. An ear-piercing shriek had you flinching, ears ringing as you felt it release you from that foot’s hold. The other clutched at you tightly, holding fast and digging its claws in even more. You shouted out in pain, trying to pull yourself up by the grip you managed to get on it, but the remaining claws only dug deeper into your skin.

Grunting as you let your body sag, you reached into your pouch for the saber hidden inside. You braced yourself, taking in the heights that the creature had flown to and mentally prepared for the fall. A deep breath centered your focus before you engaged the blade and swung up to sever the last leg holding tight to you.

“Mesh’la!” Din’s voice crackled forth from the comm link built into your vambrace. You didn’t stir, body aching and fire coursing through your veins as the poison from the creature wound its way into your system entirely. Your breathing was labored, a slow push and pull of too hot air as you had collapsed alongside a flowing river of lava. “They’re poisonous.”

“C-copy that,” You stuttered out, voice waning as you tried not to succumb to the fire burning you from the inside out. Laid out in the middle of the vast open planes, the dead carcass of the beast that had tried to pluck you up lay in a heap not too far.

“I can’t see you even with my helmet’s range, are you okay?”

“Claws, dug into my shoul-shoulders.” Breathing was becoming too hard, a wheezing wrapped around your words, making them raspy and hard to pick apart.

“Dank Ferrick. You have a med pack with you?”

“Won’t work on the poison, will only slow- slow it down. It burns.” You slurred, body not listening as you tried to shift it, rocks and gravel digging uncomfortably into your hip and ribs as you lay sprawled on your side. You moaned out, unable to stop the effect it was having on your tone. “Kriff, it burns.”

“Mesh’la, ad’ika, he’s-“ Static took over his connection, a cacophony of sounds filtering in from the other side, from where he must still be back at the make shift camp. “He’s healing Karga.”

“Mirdala ad'ika. Kaysh's bid jate,” You tried to breath in, but it only resulted in a harsher wheeze, pain striking long down the entirety of your chest. “N-ner kar'ta, ni liser't sur'ar. Ni liser't nari”

Clever boy. He’s so good. M-my heart, I can’t concentrate. I can’t move.

“Ni liser't haa'taylir gar. Enteyor cuyir too chaaj'yc. Mesh'la, ni'm bid Ni ceta. Gedet'ye, kebbur at taylir bat. Ni'll yaimpar at te Crest, Ni'll mar'eyir gar.”

I can’t see you, too far. Mesh’la, I’m so sorry. Please, try to hold on. I’ll get the Crest. I’ll find you.

You could hear him rustling around, gathering his things and no doubt scooping ad’ika’s small form up and securing him in his pod. Cara’s voice floated through the speaker, too distant for your tunneled ears to hear but her tone was distressed. No doubt picking up on the rising panic you could feel in Din even from the distance, so connected to him you already were.

An argument seemed to break out, voices filtering over the line in a jumble. A blaster was fired and then silence.

“Nayc, ner kar'ta. Te aka. Gedet'ye, sur'ar bat te aka. Par ad'ika.”

No, my heart. The mission. Please concentrate on the mission. For ad’ika.

“Mesh’la…” He was torn, you could tell by the bated breath sparking static through the line, doubly so from his modulator beforehand. But he had to keep on the task at hand, he had made a decision, he had to stick to it and see it through. You would be okay, you managed to say over the line, fingers tingling as they began to reach for your shoulders. It was dark save for the ethereal glowing of the lava that flowed all around you, the sound of it like broken glass tumbling a hum in the back of your mind.

“I’m going to try to heal it, but…” You winced, a heavy exhale as the tips of your fingers gently prodded the torn fabric and broken metal had been meant to protect you. You closed your eyes to focus, pulling on the wisps of the Force all around you.

“You’ll lose consciousness, it’s not safe.”

“Safer than letting the poison take, I’ll find you, ner kar’ta. I’ll find you in the town.” You managed to get the words out, though they were weak and barely audible over the open line.

“Promise me.” He demanded, though his tone was anything but harsh, it sounded strained, quiet, pulled from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t respond, mind scrambled as you forced yourself to focus. The injuries causing you to warble out a pathetic sound as they began to heal in rapid time. The pain cascaded down your body, the poison being cured in your veins lighting you up. Black edged your vision, clouded your unseeing eyes before it took over completely, your exhausted mind going blank as unconsciousness took over.

“You’re quieter than usual.” Cara tried to break the silence. It wasn’t tense nor uncomfortable, it just was and it was beginning to get to her.

“I have nothing to say.” Din’s modulator didn’t give away the tension he was carrying in every nerve of his body. Thoughts on a loop, mind replaying the events of the night before.

“I know, I’m worried too, but…she’s strong. She can take care of herself.”

“Not if she’s unconscious. Using whatever it is, the- Force, she calls it, takes its toll. Tires her out, much like the child.”

“He’s been more vocal since last night, doesn’t seem to affect him the same way.”

“He’s fighting sleep, he’s probably trying to reach out to her.” Ad’ika had indeed been agitated since the attack last night, constantly shifting when his eyes weren’t closed in obvious meditation. But he would always huff and return to fidgeting after trying to focus himself.

“I thought he didn’t talk?” She turned to pin him with a raised eyebrow, unsure if he had misspoken or she had misheard him.

“She tried to explain it to me once, but to be honest, I didn’t understand it. She said it’s like…hearing another’s thoughts in your own mind. Can relay emotions, feelings, words, even memories and visions if one concentrates hard enough.”

“And you think he’s trying to reach out to her? That’s why he won’t give in to sleep?”

“Yes. He’s attached to her, they have a bond that…means something, it’s important. Two individuals from the same background reunited. ”

“Mando…he’s bonded with you too. He knows you’re doing everything you can to protect him, saved him from the Imps once already. Kriff, you’re walking into a trap for him. All to ensure that he can no longer be afraid.”

“Here we are.” Karga announced as they approached the door leading into the cantina that acted as a basis for Guild operation. Din deliberately dragged his foot as he stepped up, making a show of stumbling in his cuffs as Karga’s arm wrapped right around his own to guide him into the space. “You see? Four.”

Din seethed as the client from before came into view, standing from his seat tucked into a booth. All he could think was:

Is this one of the men who manipulated you into serving them?

Was he one of the men who forced you to do their bidding and help with research?

Take your blood and anything else he wanted from you by force?

Torture and taunt you to the point that you gave into those feelings and allowed for your powers to become tainted as you had confessed to him?

Was this one of the men who had you waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with echoes of screams on your lips?

“Look what I brought you. As promised.”

“What exquisite craftmanship.” The man reverently ran the back of his hand over the beskar cuirass that decorated Din’s chest, up toward the helmet he had been wearing since he had sworn the Creed. “It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans. I am relieved you do not have any scorch marks from the blade of such a violent woman with whom you’ve taken for your own as the child. She has a tendency to strike those down who command her. But yet, I do not see her present. What became of her?”

“She was taken by a reptavian when our camp was attacked during our travels here.”

“Shame, we could’ve used a specimen such as herself once again.”

Din bristled internally at the way the man prattled on about you as if you were a thing, something to own and control and take from.

“Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?”

“I would be obliged.” Karga bowed his head slightly, trying to play into his natural sense of self.

“Please sit.” The man observed them as they situated themselves across from him. Taking in the way Din was still such a formidable visage even cuffed and captured. Speaking, his tone gave way to the insidious notions and rhetoric that he had sworn himself to, tried to carry out in every action he could. His belief in the Empire and what they stood for blinding in its intensity.

“It is a shame that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos. I would like to see the baby.”

“It is asleep.”

“We all will be quiet.” He leaned in closer, one arm outstretched outward. “Open the pram.”

Radio chatter cut the tension, a storm trooper sidling up to the table to relay something to the man who had just prattled on about power and the imposition of rule he worked for and aided in controlling towns, cities, lives.

“Don’t think me to be rude. I must take this call.”

“Give me the blaster.” Din spoke as lowly as he could, instincts telling him the situation was about to shift.

“You get one shot.” Karga swiftly handed it back to him underneath the cover of the table, Cara stepping closer to hear what they were saying and offer her own worries.

“This is bad. You said four. Sarad was right.”

“Well, there are more and she was right. What can I tell you?”

From across the room, Din could hear the hushed conversation the man was having, helmet aiding him and allowing for most of it to be as clear as if he was beside them.

“Have they brought the child and the woman?”

“The woman was lost to a creature native to the lava flats. But the child, yes they have. Currently, it is sleeping.”

“You may want to check again. There are reports of troopers being taken out on the outskirts of town.”

Din felt his heart thud at the words, relief flooding him like adrenaline did when he closed in on a target after tracking them down. You were okay, you had made it to the town. You were doing your best to take out the threat where you could, most likely silently or maybe even outwardly cursing Karga’s flimsy answer of ‘four’ as you efficiently took down as many as that with each move throughout the city streets. A smirk quirked the armored man’s lips as he pictured you mumbling about it quietly as you struck your saber and cut down unsuspecting soldiers standing at guard points.

Suddenly a blaster bolt broke through the window, shattering the glass above the bar and hitting the client square in the chest. His body slumped to the ground as bolts rained in through the window in fast succession.

Amidst the chaos, a figure slipped in through a side door, the telltale hum of your light saber blocking the fired shots and they neared where Din and the others had sought safety. A storm trooper approached, dodging the hits as they came through and fired a few of their own toward the approaching figure.

But you cut them down with a swing of your blade to their middle, searing through the armor easily and getting to the bowels of the person underneath. With a gurgle and spray of blood that trickled in thick drips down beneath their helmet, they fell to the ground.

Everything stilled.

An ominous line of black armored figures could be seen through the now thoroughly broken window, ash from the concrete of the decimated building bloomed up into the air.

“Mesh’la, we overheard you were taking out soldiers on the comm line, good job.” He nodded towards you, his entire body tense as the situation dissolved far too quickly to get a handle on it. As soon as you were safely in

“Anything to help, you know that, burc’ya.” You couldn’t bring yourself to use the nickname you had hazily recalled using with him over your personal comm link the night before. It had been too forward of you. Foolish to display such strong emotions, despite the serious conversation all those rotations ago when he committed himself to you with the intention of courtship. Too real and entirely daunting to feel so completely and all-encompassing for a man that had once been tracking you on a commissioned job.

“But those ones are gonna be a little different. It took everything for me to take them out the last time I encountered them, ended up having to use a plasma grenade.” You nodded out the window, toward the line of black armored storm troopers. “They’re known as Death Troopers.”

As you spoke, the hush of an approaching vehicle could be heard as it wound its way in front of the building. A whole platoon of white armored soldiers spilling out and lining up in an organized ambush, waiting for the call to move.

“Four stormtroopers?” Cara spit to Karga, still hung up on the flimsy lie the man had tried to sell you all.

“This is bad.”

“Kuiil? Are you back to the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?”

“Kriff, burc’ya, the transmission is coming in clear to my cuff. Lines have been hacked and set to be intercepted by every link within range.”

He turned to you, comm link still raised to the front of his helmet, his eyes heavy on you through the visor. All you could do was nod to your vambrace, where the transmission he had just spoke had rung out from on the lowest setting, the static feedback warbling out as he disengaged his open line. Something was said under his breath, too low for you to catch it but he continued on once the Ugnaught’s response finally crackled through.

“Yes!”

“Are you back to the ship yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here. We’re pinned down!”

The roaring of a ship was loud, the distinct sound of it making the hair on the back of your neck rise up and goosebumps prickle on your skin. The humming of your saber became loud, crackling almost before it waned and then flared, the slightest tinge to the white lighting up your face. It went out as you lowered it, stepping closer to the window and out from your spot hidden behind a pillar. You were out in the open, visible clearly through the broken window and yet no shots were taken. The line of soldiers on the other side focused on you, weapons raised but made no move to shoot.

“Sarad, what are you doing?” Cara’s whisper was harsh, confusion and worry coloring her words as you focused entirely on the incoming TIE fighter. She shared a look with Din across the room, unsure of what to do.

He took one step to bridge the gap with a soft whisper of your name, hand lifted slightly as he prepared to rest it on your shoulder or wrap it around your waist and pull you to him, to safety. A blaster bolt was silent as it ricocheted off his cuirass, making him retreat out of sight once again, the sound drowned out by the TIE Fighter as it soared closer, beginning to descend. The sound of it gliding through the air branded into your synapses. Taunting you in your sleep, stealing your attention during the day when something too similar a key could be heard nearby.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“No!” You shouted out, saber blade springing to life and glowing a threatening red. Everyone’s eyes were on you, from the people behind you, trapped alongside you to the armored soldiers on the other side of the flimsy partition that the outside wall of the cantina was acting as. They were speaking into their comm links, relaying in real time what they were seeing with their own eyes to whoever had stationed them there. And you had an idea of exactly who it was.

“Mesh’la.” Din’s voice was muffled, blood roaring in your veins as your entire body lit up with adrenaline and overwhelmed your senses. His steps were quiet, though you could sense that he had moved closer, a hesitant hand outstretched toward you in a second attempt. No shots were fired this time, the ominous humming and glow of your weapon making the soldiers pinning you down rethink immediate fire.

“You didn’t say it was a Moff!” You whirled around and pinned Karga was a glare, debris and broken glassware lifting into the air around you as you approached the man with measured steps. Loose strands of your hair curling up with the same focused energy tingling all around you in tune with your ragged emotions. “You’ve led us to a trap that’s going to end up with all of us dead and me back in chains!”

“Let’s everybody just-“

“If you tell me to calm down, Maker, help me…” You rounded on Cara, brow furrowed in anger and eyes glinting. “This is bad, this is….Fuck!”

The bottles still on the shelves of the bar underneath the window to the disarrayed furniture rattled as you turned to Din, desperation seeping into your very nerves.

“We need to abandon this mission, it’s fruitless. Please. Now.”

“You have something I want.”

“No. No, no, no.” The chant was quiet, jaw clenching with the effort it was taking to reign yourself in. You scrambled to tamp down the rage boiling up inside you, filling you with negative feelings and the urge to strike out at any cost. Thoughts of revenge flitting around your mind as the man’s whose voice you last heard had been when you lost the person closest to you.

“Take this, please.” You thrusted the handle of your saber into one of Din’s gloved hands, holding it to his palm until his fingers curled around the metal. Memories of blood splatter, a damaged helmet, a lifeless body, debris from an explosion and smoke-filled air took over your senses. The tang of metallic blood, so much of it, made you dizzy though you know it was only a recollection it shifted something in you, something strong wrapping its tendrils around you and tightening its hold. “I-I can’t be trusted with it right now; the pull is too strong.”

“Who’s this guy?”

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not. Not all of you at least.”

Din was hesitant to take the weapon from you, to leave you at a disadvantage in the face of such an organized threat. But the desperation and terror in your eyes prompted him to wrap his fingers firmly around it and take it from your hold. When your shoulders lost tension and you breathed out a held breath with a heavy sigh, he knew he had made the right decision. Nodding to you as you took a few steps away from him, he tucked it into a rung of his belt and brough the comm link up. Another attempt to reach Kuill, static over the silent line.

“In a few moments, it will be mine.” The strong voice was easily projected, confident and sure in it’s words. The man to whom it belonged knew that he had the high ground. “It means more to me than you will ever know.”

Desperation was begging to wave off of the armored man beside you as he raised his voice, his need for a response spiking his anxiety and triggering your own. The lack of response from the Ugnaught was worrying, he wouldn’t simply ignore an attempt at communication. Something must be wrong. And then it hit you.

Suddenly, you felt a pulse of the Force, legs buckling with the weight of it.

Already so much stronger as your emotions warred inside, allowing crevices for the dark pull of the Force to trickle in and bring the rotten, snubbed roots of it back to life.

“Din,” You whispered, reaching out to steady yourself only for your nails to rake across the pillar as you felt the heaviness settle all throughout your body, making your limbs impossible to control. You fell to the ground, looking up at the visor aimed at you with tears in your eyes. “They have him.”

“Is there another way out?” Cara demanded, needing to know how screwed you all were, if there was any hope of making a run for it.

“No, that’s it.” Karga seemed to look over the cantina, eyes sweeping over the debris and the expanse of walls that surrounded you.

“What about the sewers?” You suggested, voice tight through clenched teeth. At your words, Cara was up on her feet and moving away from the open bay of the broken window. She gathered up a massive blaster that had been abandoned, checking the levels on it and ensuring it was operable.

“The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers.” Din praised your thoughtful words, thinking back to how the covert had come to his rescue the last time he had been in the city. That you had managed to track them down and converse with them on his behalf, for his benefit. He activated a viewpoint on his helmet, visor scanning the room. He pointed to a space occupied by a booth, saying there was an entrance hidden behind it. “If we can get down there they can help us escape.”

“Yeah, sewers are good.” Cara opened fire on the grate, but the metal didn’t so much as creak or glow from the assault. Behind her, Din watched, hoping to kick out the plate of metal as soon as it was weak enough.

When the harsh barrage from the massive gun didn’t cause the grate to yield, both of them turned to where you were trying to get back on your legs. Back pressed heavily to the pillar for support, your shaking hands did their best to help steady yourself.

“Mesh’la-”

“I can’t. I can’t use it right now, it’s not…it’s not a good idea.” You knew what he was asking, demanding of you in a last-ditch effort to find an escape. But it was risky, the power ebbing and flowing through you too uncertain and unpredictable to give into. You had given into it once before and it had taken everything from you, it had taken everything you had to overcome it and you thought you had managed to but that was proving to be a false narrative.

“We need you to!” Cara backed him up, telling you more plainly that the man had intended to.

“You don’t know what you’re asking!” You shouted back, temper flaring at your lack of control of yourself, weakness shining in the worst moment possible.

“C’mon, you’re the only hope we have of getting out of here.” She pleaded with you, words heavy exhales as she panted. The reality of the situation sinking further and further in as the seconds ticked on by and the E-Web was quickly assembled outside.

“I can’t!” Voice impossibly high and nearly hysterical, you could feel yourself shaking, limbs trembling as you tried to keep upright on them. The dark tendrils wrapped around your subconscious tightening and infecting your thoughts with motives of revenge and anger so strong you could feel sweat begin to bead along the back of your neck and in between your shoulder blades.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, we’ll figure something else out.” Din appeased, not wanting to force you to do something you didn’t want. Not wanting to force you to use the very powers you were afraid of in that moment. Heeding your wishes to drop it, to not call attention to it as best he could.

“Like what! We’re all dead and she can prevent it!” Cara rounded from you and back to him, tongue sharp and words like knives as she aimed them at him.

“I wouldn’t ask you to hurt yourself, why are you asking it of me?” You snarled, eyes glinting as the anger at her question flared something hot and prickling inside of you. It wasn’t what you really felt, but it was being manipulated, the slight hurt of being asked something so significant in the wake of your denial, into something dangerous and cloying.

“Hurt?” They both turned to face away from the sealed grate, confusion and worry in both of their voices, Cara’s brow furrowed and a grimace twisting her features as she realized it wasn’t such a simple request she was demanding of you. You were holding yourself up against the pillar, entire body tense and teeth gritted as you nearly vibrated in your convulsions.

“I-I can’t control it right now, the pull is too strong, I can’t fight it.” You hung your head between your shoulders, palms flat on the pillar as you fought the power sparkling and crackling through your veins, almost painful in its ferocity. A bottle on the bar shelf shattered, vibrant blue liquor exploding into the air along with the thick glass. Another followed it, your limbs shaking as you tried to reign it in.

“You don’t have to, she doesn’t have to. If she says she can’t, then we move onto the next option.” Din was torn, he wanted to comfort you, take you into his arms and wrap his own around your shaking form but they needed to find a way to escape. He needed to lead everyone to safety, needed to ensure everyone saw the light of tomorrow.

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation. I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration. Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Tropper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.”

Cara lowered the large weapon in her grip, disbelief at the exact parameters of her identity being prattled off obvious. She hadn’t been aware that anyone had been keeping tabs on her, let alone that closely and now she had been found here on this errant mission on an outer rim planet no one cared about. But that’s what he did, this man facing the broken window flanked by a line of black armored figures, white armored ones fanning out behind him in a sea of dizzying and formidable numbers. He found out everything about those he sought out and used it against them.

And he was about to expose you next. Knowing you from both personal and professional interactions, he was the one to deliver the ultimatum that resulted in your unwilling join up to the very cause that had tried to take you out as a child.

“San of Kath, as the once esteemed Sith apprentice, can surely back up those claims with her own firsthand encounter with the same machinery which resulted in the death of her beloved Mandalorian guardian Akiz Noves. Whose surname she’s adapted in the wake of such a tragic event that could have been entirely prevented.

Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter who has taken her under his watch, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordinance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears. And I do thank you, graciously, for digging her out of whatever hole she had crawled into.”

At the announcement of his name, Din looked to the ground, thoughts firing and mind working as fast as it could. His name, Maker, his full name was now known to everyone on the planet, a dangerous thing for someone of his standing.

“I advise the disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end. Upon retrieval of her body, San will be taken back into custody and revived. To spend the rest of her days aiding in the research her blood will allow to flourish.”

“What do you propose?”

“Reasonable negotiation.”

“What assurance do you offer.

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you cannot. Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.” You were shaking your head, trying to fight off the ever present and growing darkness winding its way through your body. “The assurance I give is this, I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time, involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.

“I say we hear him out.” Karga suggested, not seeing another way to escape.

“The minute we open that door, we’re dead.” Cara countered, her own temper flaring as the severity of the situation weighed in her own body.

“We’re dead if we don’t.”

“At least out there we’ve got a shot.” She busied herself with checking the mechanics of her weapon, hoping that it was strong and charged enough to last her through a fight should one arise, bound to happen at moment’s notice.

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m a Rebel Shock Trooper. They’ll upload me to a Mind Flayer.”

“Those aren’t real. That was just wartime propaganda.”

“No. It wasn’t.” You admitted from your position kneeled on the ground behind a pillar. All eyes in the room fell to you, not even realizing you had crouched down in your internal struggle. You rose to your full height, shoulders rolling as you peered out to get a better look at the man begin to walk away, his cape flowing with the movement of his steps. You had seen the mechanics of the fabled flayer first hand, had been threatened with it far too many times to comfort her with a lie.

“What about you, Mando?” Questioning gaze turned to the man who was focused on you, on the way your fingers were twitching in your leather gloves. The way your legs were trembling and your breath was being shakily exhaled with every nearly panting intake.

“I know who he is. I’m sure you do too.” He nodded towards you, watching the way you couldn’t tear your eyes from the retreating figure.

“It’s Moff Gideon.” The announcement was heavy in the air, the name holding a weight to it as it was spoken aloud.

“No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.” A nod of the woman’s head a dismissal.

“It’s him. He knew my name.” Din insisted, knowing he was right. Knowing that you were aware of who the man was as well.

“So? What does that prove?”

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child. With the…exception of Sarad seldom using it.”

Cara’s brow arched as she turned to you with a twitch of her lips. If the situation wasn’t so charged you were sure she would tease you over it.

“On Mandalore?”

“I was not born on Mandalore.”

“But you’re a Mandalorian.” The surprise in the older man’s voice made your heart flutter, keeping the darkness at bay as you realized how much Din trusted you to have shared so much about himself with you. Yes, you knew about the culture of his people, but his name, the snippets of his past. IT had all been given to you freely and with great care and trust.

“Mandalorian isn’t a race.”

“It’s a Creed.” He turned to look out the window, gauging the soldiers lined up and waiting, the sea of them going back as far as his helmet allowed him to see. “I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That’s how I know it’s him.”

“That’s how he knows who we all are.”

“He says he needs us, which means the child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn’t respond, but if they’d captured the kid, we’d already be dead. Mesh’la can you try to reach out and connect with him? I don’t want to ask it of you, but it’s important.”

“I already tried, I can’t feel him. He’s most likely in shock.”

He tried the comm link one last time, but it was nothing but static.

“They might have jammed the link, like she said.”

“If I were to-“ You didn’t face them, aware of how they were nearly spitting at each other behind your back, the charged atmosphere of the ravaged cantina getting to everyone.

“No.” Din cut you off, voice low and rumbling from him with a force he hadn’t used on you yet.

“We can’t trust him, he’s going to fire that thing on us no matter what we do.” Cara spoke, holding a handout to you, urging you not to turn yourself in hopes of a chance for them to get away, to escape the situation that seemed to be hopeless. She wasn’t sure if she would even be able to hold you back, but she would try. She would do whatever it took to get you to safety and away from the possibility of being taken back into the hands of those you had escaped. Feeling so strongly that you deserved better, that you needed her to help look out for you with the trust she had been given with hesitant words and bonding conversations after deeming her worthy of them.

“She’s right, he’s not going to hold to his word. Even if we give into what he wants.”

“He’s got ad’ika! At least if I turn myself in he won’t be alone, I can argue for our safety while in his custody.”

“You can’t.” the modulated words were hard, an edge to them.

“I’ve been a part of their regime before, maybe…maybe that still means something to them. If I’m willing to help them with whatever research their conduction or experiments they’re doing I can ensure ad’ika remains alive. If the last apprentice fell, if the last Sith fell, they- they need me. They need what I can do to enforce their return to power.”

“They would take you as a prisoner, you have a history of betraying them. There is no chance of this turning out how you’re thinking it will. Not this time.” That same edge coated the words, his urging you to see the fruitless attempt at your thinking of a way to sacrifice yourself for them.

“Willingness to contribute has to count for something.”

“It doesn’t and you know that.”

“He wants me, Din. He wants me alive. He wants ad’ika. But you, all of you, he’ll cast aside without a second thought. I can ensure your safety, barter for it with my concession.” You whirled around to face them, cape flipping up with the motion and flaring out behind you. You could sense how more than a few of the soldiers outside curled their fingers around the triggers of their blasters, nearly giving into the urge to fire.

“I won’t let you.” He growled out, voice striking you and overpowering the dark tint edging more and more over your mind and body.

“You-you don’t control me.” Your eyes met the dark visor that concealed his eyes, wanting for all the worlds in the galaxy to see them clearly. Look into them and let him know that while you had given parts of yourself to him, that he truly had no control over you. That it was all given to him, shared with him, that you had chosen to do so with the understanding that power over you was something he didn’t want. And that if he were to try and play on that, you wouldn’t let him get away with it. He must’ve read all of that and more in your intense gaze because he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders rolling as he felt the power emanating from you even across the space of the room.

“No, I don’t. But I will not be the reason you are taken back to a life you do not want, a life you ran from. I will not.”

Suddenly ad’ika’s cooing burst to life over the line.

Brightness flared in your chest, relief flooding you at the happy sounds of the precious being.

“Kuiil has been terminated.” The modulated voice of IG-11 came through the connection loud and clear, the sound of strong wind a harsh background noise. Din seemed frozen, body stiff and shoulders tense as he slowly brought the comm link up to the front of his helmet once more.

“What did you do?”

“I am fulfilling my base function.” The rather ominous statement didn’t settle well, fueling Din to growl into the communication, voice dark and holding a promised threat should anything befall the child at the hands of the droid.

“Which is?”

“To nurse and protect.”

An explosion further off in the city erupted, the attention of the soldiers out front diverted. Din approached you cautiously with your weapon held tight, the leather of his gloves crinkling as he went over the chances of something in his head. As he did so, Karga downed another shot from the bottle he had snuck closer to his hiding spot.

“I need you to try,” He pressed the handle to your palms, suddenly in front of you, mirroring your actions from earlier. You looked up into the visor with a furrowed brow, lips downturned as emotions flooded you. Fear, worry, anxiety, anger. “For ad’ika, you need to try and fight whatever it is you’re afraid of. For me.”

“What if I can’t? What if it takes over? I-I won’t be the same, I don’t want you to see me that way.”

“It’ll be okay, I’ll help in whatever way I can if that’sfoohouhad the case.” He leaned in and pressed the cool beskar of his helmet to your forehead, comforting you with the small motion in the only way he could at the moment. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips a thin line as you tried to take what he was offering and use it to help center yourself. “We need to fight our way out of here, it’s the only way.”

You brought a hand up to rest along the side of his helmet, palms sweaty despite the leather gloves you adorned. The action pulled you into his space, one of his own hands coming around to settle at your waist. A whispered acquiescence soft and only for the man pressed up against you. You could feel the gaze of the other two people in the room focused on your embrace in fleeting moments as they realized the next move. You ignored them, trying to match Din’s even breathing and center yourself despite the pulsing darkness that had invaded your very being.

He only pulled away when the sound of a speeder broke the stillness outside. Blaster fire filling the air.

It was IG-11, bursting into the scene with a pouch secured to it’s middle, small green ears peeking out from the opening. The droid jumped from the bike, firing not ceasing, allowing for the speeder to crash into a group of the clustered soldiers, taking them out in a small explosion. Din pulled you tighter against the front of his body, raising his blaster with the other as he tugged you behind a pillar. You stayed nestled close to him, his left arm over your shoulders and resting at the small of your back. With a look, you nodded, knowing it was now or never. The only chance of trying to escape.

“Cover me.” He announced to the room, aware that everyone else was on the same page.

He was a force the second he was out the door.

Cara laying fire for him to catch them off guard. You were right behind him, saber tight in your grip and glowing a faint red. But as soon as you laid it into the first rushing soldier it turned a bright white. The feeling of protection and fighting alongside Din keeping the twining darkness under control. Behind you, Karga brushed past you, knowing to flank his other side and spread out to cover as much ground as possible.

Rushing away, you found yourself surrounded by a few of the Death Troopers, the others of the faction circling around Din. He stumbled back as a bolt landed on his left pauldron. Allowing them to knock him off his feet completely, but you had to focus on yourself. You knew he was a strong fighter, had faith in his abilities and his determination.

It was chaos, the entire scene loud and bright with flashes of blaster bolts from every direction, steam and ash rising up from fallen bodies and hit buildings. The hum of your saber falling into the noise with ease as you wielded it effortlessly, taking out anyone who dared to step toward you.

When the echoing clang of IG-11 falling rang out, you turned just in time to see Din make a run toward the E-Web. He displayed his strength by lifting it from the base it was attached to and began to fire toward the cluster of armor that had targeted ad’ika’s charge.

You caught sight of a Death Trooper flanked by a few in white approach the door to the cantina, a grenade in their hand that they attached to the door. With a shout you reached out with a hand and flung them away, but the boom of the explosion was set in motion. Soldiers slunk into the now accessible building, garners a glance from Din and Karga both.

But your focus was on the figure of Moff Gideon, the man approaching the outskirts of the scene with his eyes solely trained on Din’s form. You flinched when rage and murderous intent bloomed harshly, only able to watch as the man landed a hit with his own blaster to the top of Din’s helmet. Causing the Mandalorian to grunt out in pain and lose his hold on the large weapon he had turned against those who intended to use it.

Your entire body was burning as you weaved your way through soldiers and fired shots toward the man, seeing the way that Din exposed completely. Picking up the weapon into his arms once again, Din turned it on the threatening figure of Gideon as he aimed his blaster directly at his target. Mere steps separated you when he changed the aim toward the charging dock for the weapon and fired.

You brought your arms up to shield your face from the explosion, debris and the roar of fire loud in your ears, causing them to ring.

You could only watch through the flames and smoke as the tall, broad figure of Din fall to the ground across the courtyard. The light of your saber harsh as you cut down one, two, three stormtroopers as they advanced on you even in the wake of the explosion. Gideon was hidden, form disappearing in the eruption of flames and smoke caused by the bolt of his blaster. Black armor a protective wall around him.

You kept turning back to Din, mind distracted when the beskar didn’t glint with his standing, motionless on the ground you shouted out with a hoarseness to your voice that bid no argument.

“Din!” You shouted, hoping the sound of your voice would rouse him, but he didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. Unconscious, injured, dead. Every thought focused on him as you felt a wave of energy and you directed it to throw the blur of white closing in on you away. The blade in your hand crackled, starting those approaching you, making them pause as they contemplated the threat you made. When it hummed with intensity, white diluting to red, some of them turned on their heels and retreated.

“Cara! Get him to safety!” You ordered, seeing her peeking out from the busted door, Karga close enough to help her by laying protective shots at those closing in on them. IG-11 was just behind them, the bag holding the child still secure around their middle. Just as they cleared the threshold, you swiped your right hand out and scattered the bodies following them with a wave of focused intent. Another wave of your hand had door closing behind them, thankful for the metal being able to withstand the explosion by sliding back into the crevice that protected it.

You were so focused on making sure they were protected that you didn’t sense the blade at the end of a staff hurling toward you until it was too late. You shouted out as it dug into your shoulder, the handle of your saber flying from your grip. But you recovered quickly, feeling the darkness flare inside of you. The saber flew back to you as you raised your hand and when it ignited once again, it was glowing a bright red. Crackling sounded harshly as you cut down every soldier that swarmed you.

Gideon watched on, commanding the Death Troopers to burn out the rest of your group from their hiding place.

“Stay with me, buddy.” Cara grunted, hauling Din’s broad form into the deepest part of the cantina, as far away from the window and cracks in the walls as possible. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“This is our only path out. Can you clear it?” Karga’s voice was hoarse, the dire turn of events beginning to wane on him. IG-11 heeded the command, following close behind the older man as he moved debris out of the way of the still sealed gate. He watched with glances as Cara laid Din’s body against a slab of wall that had fallen and crumbled, making sure he was propped up slightly.

“Stay with me,” She whispered to him, desperate for him to hear her though she wasn’t sure he could in the state he was in. She ignored the heated exchange of IG-11 threatening Karga over the child, focused completely on Din. Worry for you as she realized you hadn’t followed them in, that you were still out there in courtyard.

Panting suddenly burst from beneath the helmet, Din rousing from unconsciousness.

“Whe-where is she?” His voice was wrecked, barely able to make out the words from his throbbing head.

“She’s still taking some of them down, she’s making it easier for us to run if we can manage to get down into the sewers.” Cara tried her best to assure him, though she couldn’t school her face into a comforting expression. Blood trickled into one of her eyes from a cut caused by something that had flown up in the explosion.

“What col-color is her-“ His voice cut off in a harsh cough, throat constricting.

“She’s okay.”

“No,” He made a move to shove up from his position, but Cara placed a firm hand on his cuirass and pressed him back down as carefully as she could. “I need to help her.”

“Mando, no. You need to stay still until we can get you out of here.”

He fell silent, the only sound coming from him his wheezing breaths. Nearly rattling in the way he tried to gulp in any air that he could.

“I’m not gonna make it.” He admitted, turning his helmet from the partial view out the broken window and to the woman hovering beside him. “Go.”

“Shut up. You just got your bell rung. You’ll be fine.”

“Leave me.” Din insisted, not hearing her, not able to hear her through the pain washing over him and the throbbing in his head. It was hard to concentrate, but he had to try. Let her know, let you know that they’re safety was the most important thing now. “Get her and go.”

Cara lifted her hand from where she was trying to help support shoulders, blood thick over her fingers as it had trickled down from beneath the helmet. She was suddenly reaching for the helmet with both hands, knowing it was risky but wanting to ensure she did everything in her power to save the man in front of her.

“I’m gonna need to take this thing off.”

“No!” Din choked out, hands flying up to grip the woman’s wrists tight and prevent her from lifting it, from seeing the damage inflicted on him. “You get her and you leave me.”

“She’s not going to leave you and neither am I!”

“You make sure ad’ika is safe, that Sarad is safe.” He let go of her wrists, pushing them weakly away from him, aware that the attention of the child and Karga was on them both faintly. “She has – a pendant of mine. When you get to the Mandalorian covert, have her show it to them. You tell them it’s from Din Djarin. She’ll know what else to say.”

“We can make it.” Cara shifted atop her bent legs, anxious as to why you hadn’t reconvened with them yet. But she felt the pressure to move, the need to move. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not gonna make it and you know it.” His voice was barely a wheeze, carrying his words in a shaky exhale.

Cara was about to haul him up into her arms once again when flames erupted through the open bay of the window, loud and hissing as they bloomed from the handled flamethrower in a soldier’s hands. It was faint, but a shout from you could be heard beyond the building. It urged the child to move toward his guardian.

With the cantina now enflamed, the heat of it cloistering, IG-11 quickly worked on getting the grate broken down for them to slip into the underground tunnels. Din, similarly, realized if you had been able to return, you would’ve.

“You protect the child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior’s death.” As he said it, Din felt a heaviness in his heart that he wouldn’t get to see you one last time. A silent thanks to the Maker for having chosen to hold you to him not even an hour ago before the fighting broke out. He wished for the feel of your hands on his face, the weight of you leaning into him, the look in your eyes as you gazed into the visor. Just one last time, but the universe was cruel. Stealing him of a last moment with you. “This is the Way.”

As the tip of the flamethrower forced it’s way through the broken door, Cara laid herself over Din, protecting him however she could as a plume of flames was aimed at them. The soldier wielding the weapon barged into the room on heavy steps, raising it to aim at them again, closer and no doubt intending to harm them from such a close range.

But the child. He harnessed what little energy he had from the long stressful night, the too hectic and emotional day and stood to his full stature. He raised his hands as he had seen you do countless times, focusing on the energy around him like you tried to teach him.

The flames inches closer but as they nearly licked at their bodies, air dry and hard to breath in, they stalled. Held at bay as the child maintained his focus and controlled the energy in the very air to prevent them from moving any closer. With a flip of his hands, the soldier was flung back as he tried to mimic the ways in which you would toss people. The flamethrower erupted, unable to handle the combustion of energy thrown its way. As soon as the threat was taken care of, the child plopped down, exhausted. A faint whine leaving him as he looked over to Din, making sure he had done a good job in protecting him.

You were flying into the building the second the explosion had ceased, cape billowing behind you as you slid on your knees beside him, nearly toppling over Din’s collapsed and still form in the process. Cara barely managed to sidestep you, caught off guard by how you nearly threw yourself at the man she had been trying to tend to through the wall of flames. She stood, keeping an eye out the window and crumbling walls in case anyone dared to try and breach the building again.

“Din! I saw you go down, I thought…” You didn’t dare press yourself to him, fear of hurting him further at the front of your mind as you took in the soaked fabric of his cowl and cape around his neck and shoulders. It was saturated with dark, viscous blood. Panic stricken, you reach for his shoulders, the beskar of his pauldrons still cool to the touch despite the fire raging in pockets all around the room.

“San.” He wheezed out, unable to believe that you were right there in front of him. The errant thought of dread as he realized you would be present to watch him die. That you would carry it with you the rest of your own life. And for that, he had regrets. But not in meeting you, not in getting to know you, for you to allow him that privilege.

“Ner kar’ta, please. We need to see how bad the damage is.” You lifted your hands and placed them on the sides of his helmet, tears burning in the backs of your eyes.

“N-no.” His own hands were trembling as he lifted them to wrap around your own and bring them down to rest atop his chest, the cuirass rising and falling slowly with his wheezing breaths. “Take the pendant, find the covert. Tell them I sent you, tell them about Akiz and ad’ika.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.” They were weak, barely sounding from you as he leaned down to rest your forehead atop his hands holding your own. “We’re not leaving you.”

“You have to. Protect ad’ika, protect yourself. Please, live.”

“Din, I can’t. I can’t leave you. Ner kar’ta, you don’t know what you’re asking.” Lifting your head back up, you tried to look into the visor, vision blurring, the tears finally falling from your lashes to rain hot down your cheeks. He lifted a gloved hand to wipe them from you, his movements weak and stilted. He didn’t surge up nor did he pull you closer toward him, but he cupped the side of your face and whispered to you.

“Ner kar’ta, that’s a new nickname.”

“It’s true.” You whispered back, trying to focus on the sound of his voice, even in its wrecked and wheezing state, devoting it to your memory. You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to the cool beskar of his helmet, eyes clenching shut. “Din, please, let me heal you.”

“You can’t, it’ll take all of your strength and you need it to get ad’ika to safety.”

“Din…”

The collapse of part of the ceiling of the enflamed building made you jump, his own body jostling as it caused the ground to rumble all throughout what was left of the building.

“Go!” His voice was rasping, the volume of his demand cutting through his throat as it projected. His hands pushed you away weakly, a last ditch effort for him to get to you leave him. With tears in your eyes you let him use what strength he had left and shifted your body away from him. Knees creaking with the effort to force yourself to stand, to move away from the man that had come to mean so much to you. To leave him, bloodied and beaten on the verge of death in the wreckage of a building that would become his final resting place.

He coughed wetly, the volume of his voice hurting and straining him even more.

“Come on! It’s open, let’s go!” Karga shouted, not wanting to drag out the moment any longer lest more soldiers find a way through the flames. He disappeared down into the darkness beyond the grate. The droid standing guard on the outside of it.

Cara scooped up the child, ensuring he was safe in her hold before she followed after them. Giving you a moment alone with Din, hoping you would follow behind her. You watched her, ensuring she made it down through the grate with little trouble. Soft words had you wiping back to Din, his hands still gripping your own though his strength was nearly gone.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Gedet'ye, slanar.”

I love you. Please, go.

His words were a whispered gift, one of the last things he hoped he could provide for you. The phrase cradled in the caress of his low voice, heard over the roaring flames of the fire and the crumbling concrete of the building that slowly closed collapsed around you both. He slid his hands from around yours, urging you to move. It took all of your strength to leave him behind, feeling the shape he had imbedded into your heart aching with every step toward the entrance into the underground tunnels. With a heaving sigh, you entered into the darkness, brows furrowing and expression morphing to school your emotions. Though the tears continued to fall freely.

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thealtoduck · 3 months

Text

Reunion

Cal Kestis x Male Mirialan ex-Jedi!Reader

Warnings: You flirt with stormtroopers…

Part 1: Being a mirialan jedi youngling and getting your kyber crystal…

Y/l/c = Your lightsaber color

Summary: After the fall of the Jedi Order you fled to Raxus Secundus for your survival, 5 years later Cal Kestis and the crew of the Stinger Mantis land on Raxus Secundus with their ship in need of repairs…

——

You walked in to the cantina looking around at the different patrons, you walked and sat down at the bar. The bartender soon showed up in front of you and asked ”What can i get you?”. You thought for a second and decided ”A phattro, please”.

”Coming right up” he said and soon placed a glass filled with a purple beverage in front of you. You took a sip and a familiar refreshing taste hit you. Two off-duty stormtroopers were sitting a few chairs away from you, their helmets placed next to their drinks.

They were looking towards you. You gave them a small smile and raised your glass to them in a little ”cheers”. They smiled back at you and grabbed their drinks and helmets coming over to you, sitting down on each of your sides.

”Hey beautiful, what’s your name?” said the one to your left. ”I’m Y/n, what’s yours?” you said in a alluring tone. ”They call me Red” he introduced himself with a smirk. You turned to the trooper to your right and asked ”And you?”. ”Spikes” he answered cooly.

”How may i be of assitance for the troops?” you asked taking another sip of your drink. ”Well, we’ve had a lot to attend to lately and it can get very stressfull” Red explained. ”Extremely stressfull” Spikes added. ”And we thought a pretty thing like yourself might help us… relieve some of that stress” Red said putting a hand at your waist.

You smiled a flirty smile. ”Oh really, how about we-” you started but was cut off by a sudden feeling brought on by the force, a warning? No. A familiarity, a memory, a very distant one. You stood up and looked around seeing no one. ”Are you alright?” Spikes asked.

”Uh yeah… Sorry i have to go” you said, leaving credits and a tip for the bartender. Red scoffed annoyed and said a snide ”Tease”. You ignored him and walked out on to the streets of Tamwith Bay. The connection you had felt was now lost.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, reaching out through the force, trying to find the connection again but there was nothing. You were left alone and confused.

As you wandered home you thought to yourself about what or who it might’ve been, a Jedi? Just another force user lost in the galaxy?. Memories of the jedi and your training started flooding your brain as you entered your small apartment.

You had been made a padawan only 4 months before the collapse of the Jedi Order and the Republic. In most cases you would’ve most likely been to young to become a padawan but the Clone Wars had taken a big strain on the order and because of the deaths of many masters and padwans in battle there were a lot of gaps to fill.

You had been assigned to Jocasta Nu, the chief librarian of the Jedi archives. You didn’t earn a lot of battlefield experience from this but your master had shown you some of the secrets of the Jedi temple.

Once the destruction of the Jedi hit in full force you and your master escaped the temple through a secret passage hidden within the temple. Once on the streets of Coruscant she ordered you to get on a shuttle while she had drawn away a group of Clone Troopers.

That had been the last you ever saw of her as the shuttle had left. Sometimes you wondered if she had survived that night and had managed to escape the purge as well but even then they might’ve caught up with her sooner or later.

You lifted a loose floor panel of the ground revealing a box containing your now dusty jedi robes, a hard drive containing Jedi texts and your twin lightsabers. You brought your lightsabers out afraid to turn them on incase someone could here the noise and report it to the empire.

You shouldn’t even bring them out of their hiding spot, you never knew who was watching. But something told you that you would be needing them in a couple of hours. You went to bed that night with your lightsabers hidden under your bed in case of a intruder or sudden attacker.

You were kept allert by the force the next day, you hid your lightsabers beneath a cloak as you ventured out in to town. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so you just tried to go about your business as usual but as evening came, things would change.

You were once again making your way home but saw people running away from the town square, you decided to check it out. Once you got there you were met with a life changing sight. It was jedi, or at least someone carrying a lightsaber who knew how to fight like a Jedi.

He was fighting what you assumed was an imperial inquisitor, you had heard rumours about them but never seen one in person. They were Jedi hunters, sent out to find the survivors of the purge.

You then felt the connection from the day before reignite, you had met this Jedi before… but who was it? Suddenly the Inquisitor used a force push to knock the Jedi in to a stack of crates, knocking him over.

As the Jedi layed among the crates you caught a glimpse of his face, he looked like… Cal Kestis, a friend of yours from the order. The Inquisitor walked menacingly towards Cal, spinnig his double bladed lightsaber.

Without thinking you forced jump up in the air and landing between Cal and the Inquisitor. You faced the Inquisitor and ignited your lightsabers making two y/l/c blades emerge from them.

”Two Jedi, this just got a lot more interesting” the Inquisitor said, his smirk being covered by the helmet. It had been a long time since you fought or even practised with your lightsabers so you begged the force would guide you.

The Inquisitor slashed at you but you dodged, you flipped over his head cutting at him but he blocked. The two of you started attacking back and forward while Cal tried to absorb what just happened. A hodded Jedi had just come out of nowhere and saved his life.

He watched as the Jedi fought, lightsabers skills clearly rusty but skilled. Cal then got of his feet and jumped, attacking the Inquisitor from behind. The Inquisitor managed to block but started to struggle keeping up with the three blades slashing at him.

While the Inquisitor was blocking an attack from both one of yours and Cal’s saber. You managed to get a cut in down the middle of the doublebladed saber, destroying it. You and Cal then force pushed the Inquisitor at the same time sending him flying in to a stone wall which knocked him out.

Cal then let out a sigh of relief at the Inquisitor’s defeat. He then turned to you and said ”You’re a Jedi”. ”Not quite” you said lowering your hood making Cal’s eyes widen as regcognition hit. ”Y/n?” he questioned.

”Hi Cal, it’s been a while” you greeted. Without warning Cal ran up to you and threw his arms around you. You were caught of guard at first but then wrapped your arms around him as well, it didn’t hit you until now how much you had missed him.

You heard troopers approaching and broke the hug. ”Come on, this way” you said and started sprinting down an alley way. Cal followed close behind. You led him back to your apartment, you gave one last look outside before closing the door, making sure you weren’t followed.

Once behind closed doors you find your arms locked around each other in another tight embrace. ”How did you survive? You were on Coruscant that would’ve been the most heavily guarded planet?” Cal questioned in amazement.

”Let’s sit down” you said, you made some tea for the two of you and poured it up in two cups. You both sat down around a small table and you started telling him how Master Nu had saved your life and that it had let you escape Coruscant.

”How about you?” you asked and Cal explained that his master had sacrificed himself for him. He then told you of the events that led him and his crew to land on Raxus Secundus a couple days ago for ship repairs.

”Y/n, you should come with us, we’re trying to rebuild some of what’s left of the Jedi Order, you could help us” Cal suggested. You thought about it for a second before answering ”Cal, I’m not sure how much i will be able to help you, i only just became a padawan before the fall of the Jedi”.

”To us that’s enough, we need to rebuild with what little we have left” Cal insisted. ”I don’t know Cal, i just need some time to think” you told him. ”Alright, you have until tommorow, me and my crew are leaving once our repairs are done” Cal said.

You opened the floor panel and brought out the hard drive out of the box. ”What’s that?” Cal asked. ”It’s a hard drive, it contains a few Jedi texts from the library. It’s not a lot but it’s something, i think you should have it” you said handing it to him.

”Thank you” Cal accepted gratefully. Cal then contacted his crew and let them know about the events of the day. They decided it was best for Cal to stay the night with you as security had tightened because of the reveal of two Jedis in the city and that he should try sneak his way to the ship at the crack of dawn.

”Where should i sleep?” Cal asked, looking around your small apartment, there weren’t many options besides the bed and the floor. ”You can have the bed” you offered. ”And let you sleep on the floor, we can share your bed, wouldn’t be the first time” Cal suggested.

”Alright” you nodded and the two of climbed in to bed together, laying on your sides to face each other. ”This reminds me of when we would sneak out of out temple rooms to have sleep overs together” Cal said making a smile spread over your face.

”I remember that and that one time Master Skywalker caught you on the way to my room but he promised not to tell anyone” you reminded Cal who let out a chuckle. ”Then after you left the temple with Master Tapal, i remember how much i missed you and how lonely i felt” you admited.

”I missed you too Y/n, especially after purge. It was terrifying having no way to know if you had survived or not” Cal said as you gazed in to each others eyes. He continued ”But now we’re both here again and i never want to leave you behind”.

Cal then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, from which you didn’t pull back. While attachment was against the Jedi teachings their was no order around anymore to supervise you. You were free.

As you both pulled away from each others lips you brought a hand up to cup his cheek stroking it lightly. ”I’ll come with you, i don’t want to lose you again either” you confessed. You both then fell asleep, hands clasped together ready for the challenges tommorow would bring.

#cal kestis x male reader #cal kestis x male!reader #star wars x male reader #star wars x male!reader #jedi fallen order x male reader #jedi survivor x male reader #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader

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jupiter-soups · 4 months

Text

✨happy new year!! ✨

hi my lovelies!!!! i hope you all have had an amazing new years eve and that you're all very excited and hopeful about the new year!!! i have read a LOT of fics this year and i thought it would be nice to show a little appreciation for some of my favourite fics and writers of this year! these are NOT complete lists, as i am very stupid and likely forgot fics that i love!! but anyways, here are (some of) my faves of the year!!

fave chaptered fics of the year!! (in no particular order)

fwb!joel by @hier--soir

best kept secret by @lincolndjarin

someone's wife in the boat of someone's husband by @netherfeildren

i know it when i see it by @bageldaddy

of beskar and kyber by @penvisions

whistle in the dark by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

a stranger's heart without a home by @morning-star-joy

in the woods somewhere by @eupheme

love me back by @chloeangelic

pretty little wife by @beardedjoel

just dumb enough to try by @whatsnewalycat

be-all and endor by @djarins-cyare

rule maker, rule breaker by @mandoinevarro

dare to surrender by @auteurdelabre

something to fight for by @auteurdelabre

seeing you, seeing me by @amywritesthings

from eden by @5oh5

left in lincoln by @toxicanonymity

fave oneshots & two-parters of the year (in no particular order)

102 by @tieronecrush

go on, i dare ya by @chronically-ghosted

keep it on the low by @cupofjoel

the last great american dynasty by @proxima-writes

significant by @softlyspector

sweet treat by @mrsmando

ghost in the sheets by @proxima-writes

burn it down by @whatsnewalycat

i am touchin’, i am grabbin’, everything i can’t be havin’ by @chronically-ghosted

sticking it to the pta by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

one more night in dorne by @iamasaddie

heat lightning by @millerscoffee

you call and i come running by @chronically-ghosted

please by @ezrasbirdie

flowering by @tinycozycomfort

push & pull by @sinsofsummers

bétteln by @netherfeildren

a court of fangs and foxgloves by @psychedelic-ink

didn't cha know by @chloeangelic

fics that awoke something in me

sated by @softlyspector

a sentimental noose by @tulipsbymybed

oh honey by @lincolndjarin

dollhouse by @psychedelic-ink

liquid gold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

just a taste by @covetyou

the devil you don't know by @corazondebeskar-reads

again, these are NOT complete lists! i have a bigger list of my faves over on my reading blog @jupiterreads (no pressure to follow!)

i also just wanted to say that i have made some truly amazing friends through tumblr this year, including people that i consider best friends. joining this lil community was one of the best decisions i've ever made, and i truly love all of my mutuals so so much, even those that i may not interact with very often (please dm me i want to be friends with all of you.) the friends that i have made through tumblr and over on discord have been the highlight of my year, and i hope to continue to know you guys for as long as humanly possible!!!

also you're all incredibly talented and your writing brings me so much happiness and comfort and ILY GUYS

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ HAPPY NEW YEAR *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#fic recs #i love my beautiful moots #i love the beautiful fic writers that provide us with such a plentiful bounty #giving all of you forehead kisses

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jessicas-pi · 4 months

Text

Ok so continuing on from this slightly bonkers ramble, I give you: More Spur-Of-The-Moment Thoughts About The Bo And The Blueberry AU.

(for clarity, i'm splitting this up into rebels-era and mandoverse-era..)

rebels-era:

Due to the bad experiences he'd been through on the streets, Ezra was nonverbal for a long time. During his stay on Krownest, he would spend hours painting with Alrich and Sabine, because it made him feel heard even if he couldn't find the words to speak.

Bo-Katan said the adoption vows to Ezra on an impulse. She had just told him that she hadn't been able to save his parents, and he had started to cry. She had never thought of adopting him as her own son, but she changed her mind in that moment and never looked back.

Korkie and Ezra are cousins, but Korkie is honestly closer to an older-brother figure to him. Korkie was very interested in the Jedi when he was young, so he has the knowledge to help teach Ezra about the Force, and how to control and hide his powers. (When Ezra eventually gets the Darksaber, Korkie is his second-most vocal supporter. Bo-Katan is the only one who has him beat.)

When Ezra is about eight, Bo-Katan decides he does need some Jedi training, more than she and Korkie can provide, and sets out to find herself a Jedi who can teach this kid. She ends up on Gorse just in time to plummet headfirst into the plot of A New Dawn. Kanan, upon finding out what she wants, refuses to train Ezra. Bo-Katan is not so easily deterred. She makes a game out of finding Kanan and Hera, helping out on a mission, and then delicately pointing out just how many times she's saved their butts and they really owe her one and yknow Ezra could really use some Jedi lessons...

When Ezra is ten, Maul kidnaps him. Bo-Katan seeks out Kanan again--she knows she can't stop Maul on her own.

In this AU, Kanan defeats Maul, but Bo-Katan is the one to strike the killing blow. She may not be a Jedi, she may not have the Force, but she's a Mandalorian mom. Nobody hurts her boy and lives to tell the tale.

After his kidnapping, Ezra struggles with the Dark side, which gives Kanan the final push he needs to train Ezra. Ezra's recovery is difficult, but he pulls through and is brighter than ever.

Due to Kanan and Ezra training together, connections begin to form between the Mandalorian Resistance and the outside rebellion. By the time Ezra is a teenager, the two groups are cooperating fully.

Bo-Katan knows who Fulcrum is--she recognized the symbol as Ahsoka's face-marking.

Ezra built his first lightsaber with a kyber crystal he found in the Living Waters.

Ezra is much healthier, due to not having to scavenge for his food for most of his childhood. He hit a growth spurt when he was thirteen, shortly before he went to the Imperial Academy and reunited with Sabine. She says she's taller. He says they're the same height. They refuse to measure themselves together and settle it because they're both secretly afraid they're wrong. This is an ongoing argument for the next ten years.

Ezra and Sabine were both really surprised to meet each other at the Academy. I have a funny mental image in my head of them both taking off their helmets at the same time, doing a double take, and then just *spider-man pointing meme* "YOU!"

He was worried for a while that she would turn him in, either as a Force-sensitive or as a spy, but she eventually gave him a vaguely-worded hint that she was keeping his secrets for him.

Sabine still has a big falling-out with her family, but this time, since the Duchess was never used, it's more about the machine's creation itself (and Sabine's decision to run away to the Imperial Academy.) She ends up joining the Spectres for a little while before Hera convinces her to reconcile with her mother. Afterwards, Sabine (and her family) end up joining in with the Mandalorian Resisance.

Korkie, Ezra, Sabine, and Tristan earn the title of Gremlin Squad. Leia is an honorary member as well. Korkie is a lot older than them, but he has enough chaos energy to fit right in.

Ezra and Sabine spend about a year apart during their late teens. By the time they meet again, Ezra has started pulling his hair back. Sabine thanks the Force that she managed to handle the reunion normally because for the first minute and a half there was nothing in her brain except oh no ponytail hot

Thrawn is still purgilled, but since Ezra is a Mandalorian and has a jetpack, he's able to fly out of the window and doesn't get yoinked into the unknown with Thrawn.

mandoverse-era:

So, Mandoverse events take place about five years sooner than in canon. this is solely for the purpose of giving ezra a Chaotic 23 Year Old Who May Not Have His Life Figured Out But By Golly He Has A Laser Sword vibe.

(I've figured some more stuff out, so bear with me because I've changed up the part about Din's introduction from what I said yesterday.)

Luke has also become an honorary member of the Gremlin Squad at this point. He and Ezra met up and discussed their Jedi training. Ezra meets Ben Solo at some point too. He recognizes in the child the same Dark influences that Ezra himself went through after Maul took him, and helps the boy pull through. Ben never Falls, thus averting the events of the sequel trilogy. Luke is secretly a little jealous that Ben thinks his honorary uncle Ezra is cooler than his actual uncle Luke, to which Ezra says, "Aliit ori'shya tal'din."

With Luke's help, the Gremlin Squad becomes the Official Jedi Search-And-Rescue Club. They go looking for more Jedi survivors and invite them to Luke's Jedi school on Mandalore. (Cal and Merrin are some of the first to show up.)

This search for Jedi ends up leading Ezra and Tristan to the planet Arvala-7... mere days after Din Djarin has already retrieved Grogu (AKA the Jedi they were looking for.)

(Din is there early because Moff Gideon's inability to take over Mandalore has moved up the timeline on some other events.)

(Also, Moff Gideon still has the Darksaber, but in this AU, he didn't get it from Bo-Katan, since Bo never got it from Sabine, because Sabine never went to Dathomir, because the events of Visions and Voices never happened. Instead, Gideon got it from Morgan Elsbeth, who took it from Maul's creepy cave and passed it on to him so he could. like. flex on the mandalorians or something idk.)

Ezra and Tristan track Din, because they're worried about Grogu. They constantly follow him for, like, basically 1 1/2 seasons of The Mandalorian. They're always just slightly behind and keep showing up a tiny bit too late to get mixed up in Plot Events.

When Bo-Katan offers to bring Din and Grogu to her Jedi Mandalorian son, Din is not expecting to see one of the two Mandalorians who have been following him constantly. The misunderstanding takes a bit of explaining to clear up.

Oh yeah also. Ezra's response to Bo telling him that she insulted Din to his face when they first met was "Oh, so you're into him?" It was a joke, but the more he saw of the two of them together, the more he started to wonder if there might actually be something there.

When Grogu gets kidnapped, the (official) members of the Gremlin Squad join in the rescue.

After winning the Darksaber and reluctantly agreeing to be Mand'alor, Ezra decides not to live in the palace in Sundari. Mandalore is a dead planet, and a Jedi needs to live with the living. He sets up as Mand'alor on Kalevala, under Bo-Katan's guidance.

Sabine is Ezra's official advisor and Korkie is his PR guy, but Korkie is the one with actual good advice and Sabine is kind of a miracle worker for PR (when she tries. which is not often.) Bo points out that it would make sense to switch their titles, but Ezra thrives on chaos and so he refuses.

Ezra refuses to sit on his Mand'alor Throne in any remotely normal or dignified way. He slouches. He lounges. He sprawls. He sits upside-down. He does one-handed handstands. He and Korkie and Tristan all squeeze together and sit on the throne in identical sets of armor to mess with people. Ezra's Throne Antics are a source of constant exasperation for Bo.

Speaking of the throne, Sabine has claimed the armrest as her official Mand'alor Advisor seat. She thinks sitting there makes her look cool. and yknow what? She's right. It does make her look cool.

Oh yeah, also, nobody knows that Sabine is Ezra's advisor. She wears a plain set of armor, keeps her helmet on, and goes by an alias. This disguise is supposedly for security purposes, but it's actually to keep herself out of the gossip holomagazines. She gets enough attention just as acquaintances with Ezra... imagine what would happen if the press found out she was the one lounging on the armrest of his Mand'alor Throne!

Sabine is also Ezra's bodyguard. She volunteered enthusiastically and kind of begged for the position. Sabine takes a maniacal delight in ferreting out assassination attempts and turning the hunters into the hunted, so to speak. It's like if Kevin McCallister was homicidal.

The first time a Mandalorian clan leader proposes marriage to Ezra, Tristan laughs so hard he falls out of his chair.

----

I have to leave for work now, but I'll probably ramble some more tonight!

#Bo and the Blueberry AU #bo katan kryze #ezra bridger #mandalorian ezra bridger #sabezra #dinbo

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kybercrystals94 · 28 days

Text

Then & Now

Read here on Ao3!

ANGST-PRIL 2024 | DAY 3 | PROMPT 3: BROKEN HEARTED

RATED: T | WORDS: 1109 | SUMMARY: Crosshair tells Omega about Mayday. | CHARACTER FOCUS: Crosshair, Omega

“What happened?” Omega asks.

Crosshair doesn’t move, doesn’t shift his gaze to the child sitting behind the grate of his cell door. He keeps his focus on the ceiling above him, where the light has a barely discernible flicker. “What do you mean, what happened?” he asks, hoping that the venom in his tone will make her recant the question.

But he isn’t surprised when she only clarifies, “Why did you turn against the Empire?”

Omega has been nothing if not persistent these past few weeks, regularly sneaking her way down to talk to him. She does most of the talking, while he pretends he’s not listening, and wonders if she will take the hint and stay away.

To his frustration, Omega takes the hint and blatantly ignores it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Crosshair growls.

Omega shifts so that she is kneeling in front of the door, facing him full on. “It must’ve been something terrible. You seemed so sure on Kamino.”

They let him die. The unspoken words taste bitter, so he verbalizes something less distasteful. “It pains me to say that Hunter was right. We are nothing but a number to them. Disposable. You’ve seen the labs here.”

The kid frowns. “Realizing Hunter was right doesn’t put you in a cell,” she observes.

“I already told you, it doesn’t matter,” Crosshair tells her.

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my brother,” Omega states. “What happens to you – what happened to you – matters.”

An infinite number of retorts line up Crosshair’s throat. Awful, horrid things that he is sure will finally drive Omega away, make her hate him the way he deserves. Keep her safe the way she deserves. Safe from him. Safe from attachment and familial duty.

But not a single one of them comes out.

“His name was Mayday.”

Omega is quiet for a moment. “What happened to him?”

“He died.”

Another meaningful pause. “The Empire killed him?”

“They couldn’t waste precious medical supplies on a disposable meat droid,” Crosshair snaps. Blistering rage burns glacial in his veins. “So I killed the officer who stood by and watched him die.” Crosshair turns his head to look at Omega, who stares back with wide eyes. “That’s what happened. That’s why I’m here.”

He hates the sympathy that washes over Omega’s transparent expression. He does not want her pity or her love. He wants her to leave him alone.

Funny, isn’t it? How these clones around you keep disappearing?

“Go,” Crosshair says, turning away. “I don’t want you to come back.”

He can feel Omega watching him, hear that she hasn’t moved away. Finally, she sighs, a long-suffering exhale that sounds too much like Hunter. “I know you think you’re protecting me, but I will come back, Crosshair. I won’t let you be alone again.”

Crosshair waits until he knows she’s gone before he releases a shaky breath. He rubs harshly at his eyes. He hasn’t cried for Mayday. He won’t cry now.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

They’ve been in hyperspace for a couple hours now.

Crosshair sits on the floor of the main hold, Batcher’s head in his lap while he strokes the hound’s smooth, leathery skin. He listens to the rumble of his brothers’ voices in the cockpit, Omega’s melodic voice occasionally chiming in. He imagines this is what it was like before, when the Batch first got Omega. In all the time he has known her, even before he liked or cared or… loved her, Omega has always had something to say, something to contribute. He remembers it annoyed him, but the emotion attached to the memory feels foreign and ugly. He hates that it used to be that way, but he cannot deny that it was.

It was the chip, he reminds himself. After that, his own stubbornness butting up against Omega’s persistence. Regret constricts around the muscle in his chest, memories of the cruel and harsh words he’d used on Tantiss to push Omega away. He can’t remember exactly when he’d given up the effort, resigning to be talked at relentlessly until it became something he ached for. When she’d go days without coming to his cell, he began to worry for her, straining to hear the light tread of her footsteps.

Those familiar light steps approach him now, but Crosshair doesn’t look up at his sister when she stops in front of him.

“You look comfy,” Omega says.

“Yeah, the floor of a ship is luxurious,” Crosshair retorts.

“I was talking to Batcher,” Omega responds, deadpan.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, but smirks in spite of himself.

Omega moves to slide down next to him. “You’ve been quiet since we left the base.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to talk constantly.”

“Fine. You’ve been quieter than usual. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

Omega turns so that she’s leaning her back against his arm, head tipped against his shoulder. “Is that where you met Mayday?”

Crosshair stiffens, his hand freezing in place on Batcher’s head. He swallows. He could try to lie, or at the very least, brush the question off. Seconds of indecision tick by, Omega patiently waiting Crosshair out. She’ll know if he lies.

“Yes,” Crosshair mutters at last.

Omega hums. “I saw the helmets. Hunter said he saw you picking them up.”

When did he tell you that? Crosshair wants to demand, but the question catches in his throat, giving Omega time to continue uninterrupted.

“I’m sorry for what happened there,” she says, softly. “It must have been hard to go back.”

Crosshair shrugs, purposely jostling Omega’s head resting against him, making her huff. “It is what it is,” he tells her.

“Tell me about him?” The question is gently put, a small voice guarded for rejection.

Crosshair sighs. “There’s not much to tell. I didn’t know him for long.”

“Long enough to care about him,” Omega says.

“Hmmm,” Crosshair concedes. He hesitates a moment before saying, “I guess he reminded me of our brothers...”

Omega nods, head bumping against his arm.

“There was an avalanche,” Crosshair continues, voice low, throat tight. “We were both injured, but Mayday had the worst of it. He…” Crosshair swallows. “He wanted me to leave him behind, said he wouldn’t make it. He was right, in the end, but I tried anyway. We got to the base, but they wouldn’t help him.”

Omega reaches back, her fingers finding his hand and wrapping around it. Her grip tightens. He squeezes back.

“I wish I could have met him,” Omega whispers, and Crosshair knows she means it.

Blinking back the burning sensation that suddenly impairs his vision, Crosshair mutters, “Me too.”

He hasn’t cried for Mayday.

He won’t cry now.

END

Wow! Already to day 3 of Angst-pril, and my time has come to join the collaboration alongside @the-little-moment & @just-here-with-my-thoughts!

(If you haven't already, you NEED to go read their stories for the prompts Homesick and Frozen!!!)

My next prompt is: "This isn't going to work."

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb

#angstpril2024 #Day 3 #Prompt: Broken Hearted #the bad batch #star wars #Star Wars the bad batch #sw tbb fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #Mayday mentioned #The Outpost mentioned #angst #family relationships #Little Kyber Thoughts #Little Kyber Thoughts Collaboration #fics by kyber

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imogenkol · 6 days

Text

— WIP IT IS WEDNESDAY MY DUDES

reposting because tags are broken sorry

They're having a very normal night out at the cantina

“I still get my fair share of killing in The Guild, of course. It is a profession that keeps me satisfied on multiple fronts.”

Bix’s eyes glinted knowingly. “You mean, it keeps you from getting bored.”

“Precisely,” Imogen answered with a devious grin. “However, I do find Jedi to be the most effective in that regard. I very much enjoy a challenging duel.”

“I’ll add that to the list of things I know you like to do, then.” She mumbled her next words into her cup as she downed the rest of her drink. “Murder, torture, lightsaber fights.”

“And you enjoy making black market deals and drinking cheap ale I would not feed to a womp rat.” Imogen placed her arm behind Bix and began to caress the backs of her fingers up and down her lover’s side as she stared intently at her. “What a pair we make.”

One of the bartenders — a young female Mirialan with most of her green skin exposed in a tight, revealing outfit — came up to them to retrieve what she must have assumed to be two empty cups. When she noted the practically untouched ale at the end of the table, she asked “Are you finished with this?”

“Yes,” Imogen answered without taking her eyes off of Bix, who had turned her attention to the younger woman.

The bartender continued to intrude. “Could I interest you in something else?”

“No,” Imogen said, dragging the word out in an impatient drawl. She forcefully tore her gaze away from Bix to throw a cold look at the Mirialan. “I get the distinct impression that everything here is as dreadful as that ale.”

Bix rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Ignore her. I’ll take another,” she said, handing over her empty metal cup.

As the slightly disgruntled bartender disappeared from sight, Imogen raised an eyebrow at the mechanic. “‘Ignore her’?”

“It’s the quickest way to get your attention, isn’t it?” Bix asked in anything but an innocent tone.

“Perhaps for you.”

“Come on,” Bix teased, tapping her index finger under Imogen’s chin, “you don’t think she’s cute?”

The bounty hunter grinded her teeth at the implication. “I might have thought so, if you were not here beside me.”

Bix lifted one of her shoulders in a half shrug. “I think she’s cute.”

Imogen narrowed her storming eyes and pulled her lover in closer by her waist. “Do you believe making me jealous is wise?” she mused in a low, smooth tone.

The Mirialan returned with a fresh cup of ale. As she set it on the table, Bix placed a couple of credits down as payment. When the bartender reached for them, Imogen’s free hand clamped down on top of hers like the swift strike of a serpent. The young woman gasped and Imogen saw movement out of the corner of her eye — a bouncer taking a tense step towards them. Imogen smiled dangerously at the girl. She supposed she was more attractive than most, but her looks did little to tempt Imogen beyond mischievous curiosity. She took a moment to lightly prod into the bartender’s mind.

The initial embers of irritation towards Imogen swiftly gave way to a sudden wave of fear. This girl knew she was dangerous, but she didn’t know just how dangerous she could really be. If only she could paint a clearer picture. Imogen felt her own ire melt into amusement as she tightened her grip ever so slightly and caused the girl to flinch. Satisfied, Imogen released her.

“Run along now,” she dismissed.

Bix leveled her gaze. “Are you that starved for attention?”

Imogen pursed her lips thoughtfully at the sight of the bouncer returning to his post. “I may kill her yet. If only to be banned from ever returning to this hovel.”

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned

@voidika @kyber-infinitygems @voidbuggg @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm

@socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf

@thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd @shellibisshe

@loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut

@g0dspeeed @mandalhoerian @strangefable

#oc insp: Imogen Kol #ship insp: if I had a heart #sorry to everyone that already likes it. tumblr is a functioning webbed site #let’s hope they work now #anyway yeah neither are normal in public let’s just make that clear rn

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inafieldofdaisies · 22 days

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Ships as Tarot Pairs | uquiz | Tagged by @corvosattano @voidika

John x Sabrina | the tower + the lovers: meeting this person shook your whole world. crumbling down is everything you thought you knew about life and love. their warmth, their generosity, their naivete, their knowing…! you don’t know how anything made sense before them. all you know is that nothing will make sense afterwards.

Faith x Leslie | ace of cups + ten of cups: your romance is the love story that seems only possible in movies. it starts from a youthful first meeting, innocent. and from what may seem like a lifetime later, you both end up happily in union, perhaps even married! your coupling is the epitome of emotional fulfillment and devotion. neither of you thought you'd end up here, but damn if you aren't glad you did.

Calahan x Mary May | knight of pentacles + the magician: if there’s something you want, you will GET IT. nothing escapes your fingertips. after all, you’re the power couple. your pairing sparks pure cosmic energy. you’re fiercely driven to your goals - whether that be status, fortune, or power. you’re also fiercely protective of one another. with the knight’s earthy energy, you both prefer to purposefully make your way towards your ambitions, rather than playing cards too early or acting too loosely. meanwhile, the magician’s half makes gives you a little fire. if they get too close, onlookers and threats to your relationship may get burned.

Jacob x Mercedes | the devil + the emperor: there’s only one religion for the two of you, and that religion is the other. you two are very nearly unhealthily obsessed with one another, and that’s just how you like it. when they touch you, they can feel the blood pumping under the surface of your skin. your hearts beat for one another. when the day comes that one stops, the other will soon after. until then, you both will live out your lives in perfect, gothy paradise.

Maxwell x Penelope | knight of pentacles + the magician: if there’s something you want, you will GET IT. nothing escapes your fingertips. after all, you’re the power couple. your pairing sparks pure cosmic energy. you’re fiercely driven to your goals - whether that be status, fortune, or power. you’re also fiercely protective of one another. with the knight’s earthy energy, you both prefer to purposefully make your way towards your ambitions, rather than playing cards too early or acting too loosely. meanwhile, the magician’s half makes gives you a little fire. if they get too close, onlookers and threats to your relationship may get burned.

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @kyber-infinitygems @aceghosts @onehornedbeast @direwombat @purplehairsecretlair @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn @nightbloodbix @carlosoliveiraa @simplegenius042 @gearvmac @captastra @simonxriley @strafethesesinners @strangefable @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @thesingularityseries @wrathfulrook @la-grosse-patate @shellibisshe @marivenah @dumbassdep @g0dspeeed @theelderhazelnut and anyone that would like to do the uquiz <3

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techtalksfics · 1 year

Text

Just As You Are (Tech x Reader)

Summary: Everyone is a little fragile after the Ipsium incident and Tech wonders if you'd be better off with someone...well, less like him.

Authors Note: Sorry if this is awful.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

When you walked into Cid's parlour, you could feel that something was different. Very different.

The air was uneasy. All the usual happiness, the playfulness of relaxation was gone.

Yet, the bar was quiet as usual. Bolo and Ketch were certainly normal. Their boisterous laughter was the only sound in the room.

Cid was fixing one of the slot machines and the Bad Batch were not speaking to her and she was not speaking to them. There was a painful silence suspended in the air around them all.

Suddenly, you knew what was different. Your favourite clones were silent, contemplative and one clone was missing. Where on earth was Tech.

His usual spot at the end of the bar was empty.

"Where's Tech?" You asked as you made your way around the dirty tables. Hunter had spotted you as you came through the door but he had sensed your approach moments before. He noticed that you were still in your formal work dress and boots. You'd come straight here because you knew they'd returned and Hunter knew exactly why you'd come.

He knew you couldn't resist seeing Tech.

"He's fixing the ship. He didn't seem to want any company so we left him to get on with it." Hunter muttered most of those words, the deep intonation of his voice rumbled through the uneasy air. He took a long slurp of the drink in his hand before he placed it on the bar. Despite this action, his eyes remained fixed on you.

Your eyes drifted to Omega. You had been worried for her since Tech had informed you in a message that he had stayed behind on Coruscant. She looked broken and you knew how much she missed Echo. You also knew how much she feared being left behind by her brothers.

And now that was becoming a reality for her. You felt a paroxysm of sympathetic pain in your chest as you looked at Omega, then Hunter and Wrecker. They all looked disgruntled, tired and a little bit lost and you didn't think that Echo was the only reason. Though his absence clearly did not help.

Truthfully, you were shocked that Echo had decided to stay behind. You understood why but surely he knew the pain that Omega would feel.

As you approached her, she finally looked up at you and offered a tired smile.

"Holding up okay, kid?" You asked with a quirked brow. She always giggled slightly at the odd expression on your face. She nodded her head and as you placed your hand upon her shoulder, you felt her cool hand immediately reach for yours. She kept her hand atop yours.

You wanted her to know that you were there. It wouldn't stop her missing Echo but you could reassure her that she'd never be truly alone.

Your finger gently brushed over the Kyber crystal around your neck. A dear friend gave this to you before Order 66, before the Empire. You also thought it protected you as you fought against the Empire. Omega watched your fingers graze over the crystal gently.

You took hold of the thread that held the crystal around your neck and lifted it off. You held it out for Omega. As she took hold of it, her face lit up.

"Now Omega," you began, bending down onto one knee, your eyes level with hers, "this crystal was a gift from a dear friend who died a long time ago. He saved me when I was scared, when I was alone. He told me that it would protect me and it always has." She looked at you and tried to hand it back to you.

Qui-Gonn has been with me for all these years and now your neck felt empty but you knew Omega needed the comfort of the crystal more than you.

The bloodstone crystal was in her small, soft hand and the thread hung loosely around her sides of her hand. Her index finger reached to softly stroke the crystal and you could feel the force glow around it. Qui-Gonn would be happy with you giving it away. After all, he had given it you when you were only a lost child and now you were doing the same.

You folded your fingers around hers so that she grasped the crystal, "and now I am gifting this to you. It will keep you safe. Keep your brothers safe, even Echo."

"Thank you," she whispered and placed the crystal around her neck. With a nod, you stood and grabbed Hunter's drink from the bar. You took a small sip and smirked at Hunter. Normally he would be bothered by the action but his heart had softened at your kindness to Omega.

"Tech definitely at the ship," Omega quipped as her fingers played with the crystal, "if you want to go see him, do. He may not want our company right now. But I think he'll appreciate yours. He wasn't sure if you were in Ord Mantell so he didn't know if she should contact you."

Omega was far too intuitive for her own good.

With that kind affirmation, you fixed your dress and headed out the door.

------------------------

If Omega believed Tech was in the dockyard, then that is where you wanted to go. As you approached the Marauder, you carefully approached the toned legs sticking out as the rest of the body was covered by the Marauder. When you were close enough, you gently nudged the leg that was raised up. "Hello Tech," you offered as he continued his work.

You heard him mumble a gentle but saddened hello.

For a moment, you stood back and simply watched his nimble fingers rewiring the ship. As his hand took the hydrospanner from his belt, he continued on with his work.

He was unsually quiet.

Even the dockyard felt different. You called out his name gently and he immediately rolled out from under the ship, his eyes fixed on you. There was a melancholy edge to his gaze. Those wonderful brown eyes, which were usually so confident and happy, glistened with doubt and insecurities.

“Are you okay?” You slowly asked as he dropped his head back down, looking at the ship. He didn't continue working, yet he feared looking at you as he couldn't give away everything he was feeling.

He blinked at you and asserted, "I am fine, thank you." He played with the spanner in his hand and pushed himself back under the ship. He began tweaking away. You rested your arm against a metal crate that was beside the ship. You shivered as the cool metal lowered your body temperature. The air cooled considerably as you simply watched him work.

You knew he wasn't ready to talk.

So, you took out your PADD and began looking at your work briefs for your upcoming trial. A case of criminal negligence by an important official in Naboo. A somewhat unpleasant case to deal with but you prided yourself on fighting for those who cannot fight for themselves. You had limited time on Ord Mantell but even a moment with Tech made the trip to this planet worth it.

For a while, you both worked away. You read through the brief and reviewed the submitted evidence. You only stopped to hand Tech the tools he needed that were out of his grasp.

Secretly, you loved these comfortable silences where productivity was valued over baseless conversation and you didn't want to push him into talking about whatever had placed sadness in his eyes.

Suddenly, Tech pulled himself out from under the ship and stood quickly, his eyes fixed on you. He brushed off his blue trousers and adjusted his goggles, as he always did when he was nervous. He sucked in a breath and bluntly asked, “would you not prefer to be around someone who expressed emotions the way others do?”

“What?” You asked, shocked by his unexpected outburst.

“I know that perhaps I do not focus my attention on you the way I should. I upset Omega simply because I could not understand her reaction to Echo’s temporary departure. It led me to wonder if I am capable of being a suitable companion to someone as wonderful as you.”

You are so much more than a companion Tech, you painfully admitted to yourself. Your actual response was perhaps a little more conservative, you'd never really discussed what you were to each other. He had approached you slowly and positioned himself next to you, his back and hips pressed against the crate.

“No Tech,” you reached for his free hand, “I prefer you. I prefer your fascination with everything unexplained, everything technical, everything wonderful. I prefer your mind, your way of speaking. The way you explain everything to me. You are so much more than suitable. You are more than enough. I just…” you gave his hand a gloved gentle squeeze and his cheeks coloured, his head turned away, “I just prefer you.” You pulled at his hand gently, encouraging him to look at you again. You couldn’t help the slight frown that crossed your lips as you were pained by his self-doubt. His eyes remained on the floor. “Why would you ask me such a thing, Tech?”

“On our most recent mission to mine the Ipsium, Omega truly believed that I did not care about the absence of Echo. I –“ he laced his fingers through yours, adding strength to a previously limp connection, “I was unaware that this was the brashness I was presenting. I managed to upset Omega, Wrecker…even Hunter. Simply because I process information and situations differently than they do.”

“There is nothing wrong with the way you process information, Tech.” You raised his hand gently and kissed his fingertips, yet you noticed that his expression remained pained. However, he let out a soft sight as you placed a second careful kiss to his fingertips. You wished he wouldn't wear gloves. Well, pained for Tech. His eyes were lingering on the Marauder and his lips ever so slightly frowned. You looked at the ship which was lit under the soft glow of the moon from above and a harsh glow from the spotlights below the ship fought with the soft light of the moon as the light glimmered on the ship.

“That is not all that happened on this mission.” He sighed gently and you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” As he began to explain what happened to Omega, the conversation they had in the cave, the ‘failures’ he had encountered from his behaviour to the kid that had stolen their ship, you felt your heart ache for him. Your chest tightened with every snippet of information he discussed, and he discussed many.

He hadn’t let go of your hand. This simple act of affection meant everything to you.

As he finished his tale, you let out a pained whisper, “Tech.” He still didn’t look at you.

“Is there a different way I should be expressing my emotions?”

“No, Tech. The way you are is just fine.”

“But perhaps –“ He began and before you could allow his thoughts to spiral, you interrupted his pained thoughts. “If you think for even one second that you need to change the way you are then you must listen to me.” He let go of your hand so that he could rub at the back of his neck. You place your hand on his cheek, feeling the heat of his embarrassment. “You are magnificent, and you are wonderful, just as you are.”

His expression was still pained. I had better confess it now, whilst I am trying to express my emotions, he thought logically. “I also worry that you may also be unaware of my true feelings at times. That was my true reason for asking.” He said it so plainly that you couldn’t help but experience a bolt of lightning hitting your stomach. Not only did he care; he cared about you in a way that he had never truly expressed.

“Tech, I know how much you care for your brothers. For Echo. For Crosshair. But I also know that you care about me.” The corners of your lips twitched as the heat reached your cheeks. The cool air made the heat of your cheeks tender.

“I was not simply confessing that I care about you. Not in the way I care for my lost brothers.” He countered gently and the dusted pink of his cheeks began spreading to his neck. He looked into your eyes, searching for evidence that he should not continue, that you were uncomfortable with his train of thought. Yet, he only found the usual caring gaze in your emerald eyes. He had always loved the depth of green he saw when he looked into them deeply. “I was referring to my ardent and, at times, amorous feelings for you.”

“The amorous feelings you have for me?” You repeated slowly, as if you were entirely unaware of them.

He hadn’t ever directly mentioned them before, although you had suspected them. He always took the time to explain technical things to you. He sat closer to you than he did anyone else. You had caught him staring at certain revealing outfits you had worn for political events. You noticed the way he smiled when you were heatedly debated things with Echo. Simply put, you had noticed the little things.

“Tech, if you think I am unaware that you care a great deal about me then you are, possibly for the first time since I’ve known you, sorely mistaken.” He looked perturbed at the notion he had been so obvious. He thought he had been discrete.

With a soft chuckle you let go of his hand and hopped up onto the metallic crate that your body had been resting against as you’d spoken to him. As he simply watched you, with a sheepish but doe-eyed expression, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a chuckle. You indicated that he should sit next to you.

With a little pat, pat on the space beside you.

He complied and quickly moved to sit next to you. His shoulders uncharacteristically sagged a little. The pain of the recent revelations clearly weighing on his body. You gently whispered his name as you looked up towards the moons effervescent light. His head didn’t quite face you but you could tell you’d dragged him from his thoughts.

“I meant what I said, my darling clone.” The pink hue reappeared on his cheeks. “I prefer you. I would even say that I care about you more than anyone. Plus,” you chuckled faintly again, “I am hardly an expert on excessive emotion. I am a lawyer, a politician of sorts I suppose. Reason, logic and knowledge are the things I cherish the most. You have all of those things in your marvellous brain in abundance.” With a startled stutter, his eyes finally snapped up to yours. “Did you think I have a wealth of work on Ord Mantell? I don’t come here for legal debate. I come here for you. I will always go where you are. I can’t seem to help myself.”

My god, how could he not know?

You hadn’t noticed the silence that filled the usually cluttered and crowded dockyard. It floated around you both melodiously. But as you noticed that he had no intention of speaking, you continued with your confession, “Tech, it’s okay that you don’t express things the way others do. I understand you and I understand the little things that you do for me. I know what it all means. I know you care. I wouldn’t ask anymore of you because what we have, even though we haven't labelled it, is wonderful, just as it is.”

“Thank you,” he whispered gently, taking hold of your hand once more. You took the opportunity to rest your head on his muscular shoulder. It was softer than you expected.

And then he did the truly unexpected. He rested his head atop yours.

“I am glad that you understand me, meshla.” He said it so gently that you weren’t absolutely sure that he’d said it. He sighed and said, “I have so many repairs to do. We have issues with the skip drive, the power grid is slightly damage from the scrappers who stole the ship and Omega has broken her communications device again.”

“Again?” You laughed as you spoke. That kid breaks that device every time they leave this planet, you thought gently. Tech uttered a yes as he pulled the device out from his belt. The buttons blinked erratically, and you could see the plate was bent out of place.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he lay his back on top of yours, “I suppose I just ruined the moment.”

“Not at all. If anything, you proved that you will always be the magnificent Tech that I care so much for. Fixing everything and impressing the hell out of me.” Your eyes closed softly as you enjoyed the warmth radiating from him. “You could even say that this is romantic.”

“How is this” he gestured to the cluttered dockyard, “romantic?”

“We are sitting together under moonlight.” You laughed and confirmed, “that’s pretty damn romantic to me.”

"You look very... pretty this evening. I -" he smiled softly as his fingers played with the fabric pooled around your thighs. "I find this dress very distracting, it is simply gorgeous."

"Thank you. I had another silly corporate dinner." You feel into a comfortable silence.

“I suppose now would not be an appropriate time to start fixing the comm device.” You laughed at this statement, knowing he was eager to get back work.

“No it wouldn’t,” you lifted your head and gingerly reached towards him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek, “but do it anyway. But let me tell you a secret first.” He looked shocked as his head finally turned your direction. You kissed his cheek again, liking the way it made his cheeks flush deeper. He was almost crimson now. After that little kiss, you were close enough to reach and whisper in his ear. “I find it extremely sexy when you work on the ship.”

He arched an eyebrow and afforded you a true Tech smile. He was calm once more. You always knew the right thing to say.

Sexy, he wondered, how on Earth was it sexy? He realised the why didn’t really matter. What mattered was how he could keep you thinking that.

And so, he reached for his tool belt and pulled out a small hydrospanner. Time to get to work.

#tech bad batch x reader #the bad batch #tech bad batch #hunter bad batch #wrecker bad batch #reader insert #bad batch tech #tech bb x reader

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