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januaryembrs · 1 year

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DEEP ARE THE SCARS | Din Djarin x Mandalorian!reader

Request: Hello! Congratulations on 1k my friend! You deserve it <3 I am wondering if you are comfortable with writing a din djarin x insecure/depressed reader. Thank you!!

description: Din and you have a conversation after one of his past lovers shows up, beauty and all.

Word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: insecure feelings, scarring on face, established relationship, kissing, parental death mentioned, crime ridden planet mentioned?

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Author’s note: it comes as no surprise to anyone this is another part of the KISS THE SCARS universe since I am now apparently very attached to these two and their love but this can be read separately if you like. READ KISS THE SCARS AND TOUCH THE SCARS here!

The world had always been cruel; you had learnt that at a young age. Your planet back was riddled with crime, and when it wasn’t, it was riddled with Empire sympathisers creating just as much chaos and tension between the people, resulting in your parents’ death and your Mando caburs [protector/guardian] to take you to their guild on Nevarro as their own.

Where you met him.

Din Djarin. The man who you had laid your life on the line for hundreds of times, who had shown you the furthest reaches of the galaxy that you never thought you would see in this lifetime or the next. Who understood you like no one else did, like no one ever had. Din, the one you knew you were going to marry when the time was right, though he had already proposed months before and neither of you had the money spare to settle down let alone afford a ceremony.

Who had seen you for exactly who you are, perhaps the first to ever do so with such love and unbridled adoration in his golden brown eyes.

It didn’t bother you so much; him seeing your face, your scars. It was ugly; you had always been aware of it, but since the day he had seen you without your helmet on, he had made you feel nothing but beautiful even with the unsightly tissue marring your face.

That is until you ran into her.

You had been collecting credits from a bounty at a nearby tavern, the buyer particularly pleased with your reputation and efficiency. Din was standing barely a few feet behind you waiting for you to finish with the man, when your ears pricked at a feminine voice.

“Mando!” You immediately turned around, seeing as people used the name for both of you. A tall, incredibly toned Togruta sauntered up to your fiance. The buyer seemed to fade into white noise, mumbling something about needing your service some time in the future, as you watched her throw her arms around Din’s neck. He straightened up awkwardly, but gently returned the hug with a large arm around her waist.

“Kuri,” He choked out, as if someone had punched him in his throat.

Do not act out, You barked at yourself, but your heart willed you to move towards the two like a panic alarm.

“It’s been years since I saw you! The moon solstice on Kashyyyk, wasn’t it?” The lady, her skin a blossom pink colour reached out with a small laugh and held his wrist dearly, “Oh, I suppose it was the morning after, wasn’t it?”

Do NOT act out.

But you were there. Stood behind her with your hands lingering on your dagger sheathed at your side, freshly sharpened this morning and ready to cut down any foe that challenged you. Especially the ones that tried to take what was yours.

Din’s helmet flicked over Kuri’s shoulder, and you could practically see his face begging you to not behave rashly over this. He hadn’t reciprocated one flirtatious advance in the few seconds she had arrived, so he held no blame. Even so, you supposed he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of uncontrolled jealousy.

The two of them went quiet for a second, and this Kuri woman seemed to notice his eyes were no longer on her. She turned to face his gaze and instead was confronted with you. A female Mandalorian decked out in pristine armour from many very successful bounties, guns and large blades at your hips. She didn’t need to see your face to know you did not look pleased.

And yet all you saw was perhaps the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever met. Her lekku were long and draped over her perk breasts, covered in white stripes and tiny, brown feathers. Her eyes were siren-like, mouth full and a naturally dark pink as if to attract your attention there first. Her red eyes flicked up and down your figure, faintly attempting to hide the fear that was clear as day in her face.

“Kuri, this is my riduur, Y/N,” Din said as you advanced on the woman slowly. She gulped dryly, stepping back though her face tried to seem poised.

“Is there a problem here?” You asked coldly, taking another step towards her before Din put his arm on your shoulder to halt you.

“No, j-just catching up with an old friend is all,” Kuri choked out, her eyes flicking to the door as if begging the Maker to send someone to save her.

“Charming,” You bit out, your voice lowering as you stared daggers at the woman who looked beautiful even when she was cowering in fear, “Though I suggest you leave now. You’d hate to find out what’ll happen if I catch up to you,”

And with that the woman fled the tavern without a single utterance of goodbye to her ‘old friend’. But you didn’t feel accomplished. In fact, you had never felt so low.

—

It was three days before he brought it up. You seemed sluggish, quiet at times when he was waiting for you to chime in with your own thoughts, granting him nothing but hums of agreement when prompted with a question. He knew you weren’t sleeping either. He heard the way you tossed around your bunk, even the blanket grating on your nerves for one reason or the next. You’d wake up the following morning, eyes heavy and face dull of life.

“Are you hungry?” Din tried to offer, as he had been trying for the past three days to get you to respond at all, but you simply shook your head.

“No thankyou,” Your voice was empty, your gaze zoned out as if you were miles away from him despite standing in front of him. And you were. He had never seen you so dead. It shook his resolve, and he couldn’t help himself from stroking a hair away from your face as an excuse to cup your cheek in his large, warm hand.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered, the voice coming out deep and rugged. But the tenderness was still there. It was always there when Din spoke to you.

“Nothing,” You murmured, though his hand caressing your cheek seemed to thaw away the cold you felt inside. Sighing, you nuzzled into his palm and shut your eyes gently, liking the way he pet you too much for your own good.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Din whispered, bringing his thumb up to trace over where your scar lay at your lip like he always did when the two of you were this close. Yet you flinched as if his fingertips scolded you, as though him touching that part was as sensitive as the day it came to grace your face.

It had been years, but the pain of it cut just as deep.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” You asked, watching him frown and shrink back. Obviously, he had interpreted your question in the worst possible way, as you having second thoughts on this marriage that had not yet come. “That I was different?” You clarified.

He stared at you aghast. “No, never,” Din replied with such earnestness that it hurt your chest to hear him so disappointed, “What ever have I done to make you feel like that?”

“No, it's not you, it's just-” You huffed, getting frustrated with the words that seemed too difficult to produce, “Kuri is pretty,”

“Pretty terrified of you, you mean,” Din tried to joke but it fell flat when you glared at him. He chuckled at your mean face, bringing you in close and kissing you on the nose, “And what does that matter?”

“You were together weren’t you?” Your voice was hostile, something you couldn’t help. The Mandalorians never really taught you emotional regulation growing up, it was all fighting as a means to end a dispute.

He sighed, looking down at you with such love despite the fact you knew you were being selfish, “Not the way me and you are, no.”

“So? It doesn’t matter, it still proves you could be with any and every woman much prettier than me. Someone not tainted by a Tusken hound, someone with a perfect face, someone-”

“My sweet wife,” Din cut you off, his hand slipping into your hair to cradle the back of your head. His lips pressed to your brow this time, “I do not want anyone else,” You opened your mouth to interrupt him again, but he shut you up with a kiss there too, “You are strong, and beautiful, and powerful. I loved you just as you are even before you took off that helmet, and I’d love you even if the stars burnt out and the world went dark.” He kissed you once more on your lips, “You are the only one I see,”

You pouted, knowing he was being too kind to a scornful woman like you but melted into his embrace nonetheless. He petted your head kindly, kissing your hairline as you hugged him back, “Thankyou,” You said into his chest though he deciphered what you meant.

“I enjoy seeing you jealous. You had that poor woman running like a scared sand rabbit,” You pinched his ribs in retaliation though you felt him shaking with laughter. “Don’t worry, meshla. I’d show any man just the same manners if they tried to take away my sweet almost-wife,”

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moon-sang · 1 year

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𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗

~ 𝘋𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

SUMMARY: A Mandalorian myth is proven to be true, but what’s that got to do with you? Turns out...more than you thought.

WARNINGS: Set before Mando get’s the darksaber, Talk of being possessed, Made up Mandalorian myth, Fem!reader, Reader is described as smaller than Din, ANGST, mature language, a little bit of references to the adventures of puss in boots because the storyline is awesome XD, pls tell me if I miss anything.

~~~

“Well, we’re finally here.”

The triangular obelisk stood proud and tall in front of the four of you. Or should you say hovered proud and tall. The stone the obelisk was made of was eroded and covered in dust, making the symbols carved into the stone almost impossible to read.

Under the markings on the rock was a hand imprint.

“Where’s the cabur? [guardian]?” Exclaims Paz.

“The legend says Sage Vizsla chose three cabur’s; Green, Orange, and Red, Green the merciful yet strong one, Orange the evil merciless one, and Red the chaos one, yet sympathetic.” Taroh states, going over the legend again.

“We faced the green one when we got the emerald flower, we faced the orange one when we got the amber flower, where’s the cabur to protect the ruby flower?” Vizsla groans in question.

~~~~

EARLIER THAT DAY

“So what are we doing on Mandalore?” You ask, all too intrigued.

“I am in debt to Paz Vizsla from when he saved me back on Nevarro, so he has asked me to accompany him on this mission on Mandalore.” He replies.

“And what’s the mission?” You question, eyebrow quirked.

Din sighs coming to a halt.

“It’s a long story.” He argues.

“Well I wanna know what I’m getting into.” You chuckle, batting your eyes innocently at him.

“You? No, you’re staying with the armourer, it’s WAY too dangerous where I’m going.”

“But-” You start.

“This isn’t up for debate, Y/n.” And with that he starts walking in large strides through the remains of Mandalore, not giving you the chance to ask any more questions.

Soon after, the two of you found the armourer with two other Mandalorian’s; Paz Vizsla and Taroh Nem.

“Ah, you’re finally here.” grumbled Taroh.

Din offers a curt nod, before-

“We must leave straight away, times running out.” Vizsla hurries, ushering both Din and Taroh to their transport.

“Stay with the armourer.” were Din’s last orders before being shoved into the ship.

The engines roar to life and you watch as the ship lifts off of the ground, before zooming into hyperspace. The frown on your face deepens when you can no longer see the it.

With a sigh you turn around and follow the armourer into the secluded covert on Mandalore.

You take a seat by a stone table...if it even was a table and stare into space, already bored out of your brain.

“You want to go with them.”

A voice suddenly booms through the empty hallway.

Your head snaps to the armourer.

“I-” You start.

The armourer tilts her helm to the side, drinking in your form.

“Yeah, kind of.” You laugh.

“Din Djarin is right. It is very dangerous where he is going.” She exclaims.

“W-where is he going?” You ask, getting slightly worried for his safety yourself.

“Multiple places.” She announces, short and sharp.

You sigh.

“Can I at least know what they’re doing?” You plead.

The armourer sighs and takes a seat opposite of you.

“A long time ago, a Mandalorian named Sage Vizsla, Paz’s ancestor, bred a powerful plant, and it was able to create a medicine that could restore youth to those who drank it out of soup and cure their diseases. However, when it got into the wrong hands, it was remade into a killing plant, the pollen was changed to speed up the ageing process until the victim died within seconds. When Sage figured this out, he took every single one of his sacred flowers and killed them all, but one pair.” She explains.

“It took three flowers to create the remedy of curing diseases and restoring youth. A green one, the emerald flower, an orange one, the amber flower, and the main ingredient; the ruby flower, which was red. He hid all three of the last flowers he kept alive in seperate temples, which he then chose three people to guard those flowers, which we call cabur’s, which means guardian’s in basic.” She takes a quick breath before continuing.

“However, instead of trusting the cabur’s to guard it themselves, he put an ancient spell on them which would make them even stronger and deadlier. It also made them only loyal to him only, this way he knew he could trust them. So the cabur’s had no control over what they did, as long as they completed their mission of protecting the last of those flowers, they were satisfied....they could never live normal lives and were bound to their temples.” She sighs.

“Taroh’s daughter is awfully sick, the doctors on Nevarro have claimed that she will die before she is 20. Vizsla and Taroh want to take the last of the flowers to cure her, and any other person who may be sick, they think there is greater purpose in those flowers than keeping them locked up in a temple.” She continues, getting up to pour you a small chalice of tea.

“I can help them,” You blurt, fascinated with this Mandalorian tale.

The armourer scoffs, and then chuckles.

“How so?” She questions, the smile audible in her tone.

“I studied archaeology, I can read seven dialects of ancient symbols, maybe there will be some symbols they will not be able to read.” You suggest.

She hums in agreement and goes silent for a second.

“It will be dangerous.” She says.

“Especially with the cabur’s they will have to fight.”

“I want. to. help.” You affirm.

She clenches and unclenches her fists, obviously debating whether she should let you go or not. But then-

“Alright, I will let you go, but first, you need to be prepared, I will pack you a bag.”

~~~~

Of course you had gotten a scolding from Din when you got to him (the armourer sent you to where they were) for not staying, but he couldn’t be too mad at you, after all, the armourer had let you go, even when he specifically told her not to, besides, you were proving to been very helpful with your reading skills.

~~~~

PRESENT DAY

You stared at the obelisk in amazement. How was it floating without anything supporting it?

“Do you think the cabur for the ruby flower is dead, already?” Taroh ponders.

“I doubt it.” Din replies instantly, fingers twitching at his stun blaster, whilst the other kept you behind him.

“Be cautious, the red cabur is said to be the most dangerous.” One of the Mandalorian’s say, but you’re barely paying attention anymore. You’re too focused on the enchanting way the obelisk is calling to you. Like a siren it draws you in closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of it.

“I’d be careful, Y/n, the cabur could come from anywhere. He wouldn’t let you get anywhere near the ruby flower” One says.

And then, as if on cue, the ruby flower unravels itself right on top of the obelisk, twirling gently in midair.

You can’t help but let out a small ‘woah’ looking at the hypnotising flower. It’s petals were a menacing red with black tips, and rosy pink bits as the petals dipped inwards, towards the centre.

You didn’t get long to admire the lushness of the flower because suddenly a red light bursts out of the flower and surges towards you.

“Y/n!” Was the last thing you heard, before your vision was lost, along with your thoughts.

~~~~

When the light had finally faded Y/n stood still in front of them, perched exactly where she was before the light invaded their vision.

“Y/n?” Din calls, worry evident in his voice.

Her head was dropped as she slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were closed, her eyelids occasionally twitching.

And then her lashes lifted, revealing her eyes...but they weren’t her usual sweet e/c, no, no colour could be seen in her eyes except for the glowing dark red which occupied her pupils and irises, and tinted the white in her eyes slightly pink from the glow.

“...Oh...MAKER.. DIN! SHE’S THE RED CABUR!” Shouts Taroh.

Din’s eyes widen underneath his helmet.

You...were the...guardian of..the ruby flower? But...HOW? He would know if you were...you would have know you were...

Don’t get him wrong...you were more than worthy to be the cabur of the ruby flower, you were strong, intelligent, kind, and beautiful...but...it was you! And now...He would have to....knock you out...hurt you.. so he could get the flower.

“Leave.” Was all you had said before readying the blood red sword that appeared in your hand from the light.

“No, I need that flower.” Taroh growls, before rushing at her.

“No!” Din yelled, but was seemingly frozen in place from shock.

Taroh readies his sword to slash at you in midair, but as he jumped at you, your arm shot out and flung him into the nearest wall, as if he had weighed nothing.

Your eyes were crinkled in a deadly rage of red and this time you had rushed at Paz.

Vizsla ignited his jet pack and flew up, before you got a clean shot at him. However, you had gained the powers of the cabur and your jumps had been heightened. So you jumped onto a wall and flipped off of that onto Vizsla’s back, slashing the jetback. “Shit!” He yells as she jumps off of him and Vizsla crashes into the wall, landing on top of Taroh.

Now that the two of them were unconscious, you had turned your attention to DIn.

“Mesh’la..” He warns gently.

You jump and spin in the air landing your blade on his spear he had managed to pull out in the knick of time.

“Meshurok, you need to-” You slash at his head and he ducks.

“Snap-” Your blades clash, and you push him up against a wall.

“Out of-” You sweep at his feet, but he manages to step over your leg.

“It!”

You growl and twist around him attempting to stab him in the back, but he spins quickly and you stab his shoulder instead.

He grunts in, and quickly pins you to the obelisk when he sees the chance.

You grunt and try to kick him but he’s holding you in place.

“STOP IT! You need to snap out of the spell!” He yells, his voice crackling under the modulator.

You thrash under his hold, trying to fulfil your duty in protecting the ruby flower.

Din is starting to worry. What if he couldn’t save you...what if this spell was going to take over the rest of your life?

What was he going to d-

The...song..

His mother used to sing him...

It was worth a shot.

And so he started to sing to you. Although through the pained grunts he was making it didn’t sound like a chorus he was singing, just broken words he didn’t know the meaning of.

“Quer Shru-”

You grunt and yell and writh underneath his weight, but he doesn’t let up, only continues singing to you, in the hopes it would do something.

“Shrey, doveru.” He grunts out.

Then he sees it.

The raging red in your eyes fades slightly.

It was working..

He continues to grunt out words of the lullaby his mother sung to him as you struggled against his grip.

“Trullap Cro sweo, medalda shiu-”

You start panting as you become weaker and start submitting to Din’s weight. You were transforming back to your normal self.

“Miarwu, soru sha.” He himself pants the words out in laboured breathes.

And finally the last of the red had disappeared from your eyes, and your black pupils came back to you, including your control on your own mind.

When he is certain you won’t attack him, he cups your cheek gently, catching his breath with you.

“Mesh’la.” He says finally.

“Din.” You whisper.

He rests his head upon yours, absent-mindedly giving you a keldable kiss.

“I-I hurt you!” You whimper.

He shushes you and brings you in for a hug.

“I-I couldn’t control it” You sob.

“Shh, I know, sweet girl.”

After holding on to each other for a while longer you smile gently.

“The song.” You whisper.

Din too smiles under his helm.

He had once used that song on you previously to pull you out of a really bad panic attack you were having. It had lulled you to sleep instantly and you had expressed you liked it the day after.

“Let’s go home.” He says, just as the two other Mandalorian’s began to wake up.

You nod.

“Home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just To Clear Some Things Up:

~ Y/n didn’t want to not let them get the flower she had no choice because of the spell put on her and the other guardian’s.

~ Taroh’s daughter was healed because the managed to get the flower with Y/n’s approval and support

~ The two other guardian’s were not killed because lets face it Din isn’t one to kill innocents, so they were just knocked out.

~ The lullaby is a language I made up, and can translate to whatever you wish it to translate to.

If there is anything else you need cleared up please comment.

REQUESTS CLOSED

#Din Djarin x reader #Din x reader #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x reader #Mandalorian x reader #Mando x reader #Mando #Din Djarin #Din Djarin angst #Mando angst #Mandalorian angst

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wanderinginksplot · 2 years

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Gar Cabur Chapter Fourteen

Alpha x fem!reader

Before you read: This should probably be considered chapter 13.5. Someone mentioned wanting to see the ARCs trying to set up you and Alpha. That's what this chapter is, and it spans the time from when you first met the ARCs to the current time setting. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,700 (oof)

Warnings: ARCs being stupid, attempted manipulation, some situations that could potentially trigger claustrophobia

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Gaanaylir (Trap)

She was known by many names on Kamino.

There was, of course, her own name, but the men didn’t favor that one. They were clone troopers, and most men had some say in what their name ended up being. They had no interest in a name she hadn’t chosen.

Then there was her title. Administrator. A popular choice, but impersonal. It didn’t tell anyone anything about her other than what she did for the Republic. It worked in a pinch, but there were better options.

The most personal name option was neverd’ika, the way Captain Alpha-17 addressed her. Little civilian. Maybe it wasn’t as personal as it felt, but the way the captain said it turned it into something fond and far softer than the words themselves would make the name seem.

But the name the ARCs like best was the one they had come up with themselves. She had never been addressed by it, not directly. If all went well, she never would. No, the men called her ‘Alor’, if only so they could talk about her without drawing attention - or, on the captain’s part, suspicion.

She wasn’t alone, either. Captain Alpha-17 had his own ARC-given code name: Cabur.

Both the administrator and the captain had to have those code names so the ARCs could do what needed to be done…

Push them into giving in to their feelings.

The ARCs weren’t stupid. In fact, they had been chosen for their advanced training because they weren’t stupid. They knew something was up with the captain and his administrator. But they also knew that whatever was going on wasn’t nearly enough to make either one happy. And, most importantly, they knew nothing was going to happen if they didn’t give a little… encouragement.

It was a dangerous mission, fraught with too many hazards to count. From the horrors that would happen if they were caught to the look of betrayal the administrator would wear if they succeeded, the task took bravery and tenacity.

Good thing those were two pillars of being an ARC trooper.

—

Monnk worked on the smallest possible scale.

He hadn’t been the first ARC-in-training to meet her - that had been Neyo, the di’kut - but he had been one of the earlier ones. He had certainly met her earlier than Drift, which wasn’t saying much. If Alpha could have kept Drift from ever meeting her, he would have.

But Monnk did know that she and Captain Alpha had first met sharing a meal in the mess, so his subtle efforts were just to mention that. He encouraged the captain to keep spending his mealtimes with her. He would keep anything from interrupting their meals together.

Too often, Monnk had intercepted cadets intent on interrupting the pair as they ate. He redirected them elsewhere with persuasion or threats. They weren’t as scared of him as they were of Alpha, but Monnk did his best and came up with some creative stuff, if he did say so himself.

Evenings were even more of a challenge. Since ARC training ended in the afternoons, it seemed like the entirety of Kamino came to Alpha with questions they had or small tasks they needed him to do. Monnk ran interference in those situations as well, and found himself becoming one of the most trusted sources for information from the cadets and well-acquainted with most of the officers stationed on Kamino. He also got a better idea why Alpha seemed as harsh as he was - even with Bacara taking on some of the tasks, Monnk always seemed to be busy keeping the heat off of the captain.

When he got the chance to speak with Alpha, Monnk pressed his luck and directly mentioned the meals he shared with the administrator, usually by pretending to have temporarily forgotten that arrangement. “Did you want to meet up during lunch to talk about-? Ah, sorry. I forgot you have a lunch partner. Lucky vod. We’ll figure it out later, then.”

So far, the captain hadn’t gotten angry about these little comments, but he didn’t seem to be particularly swayed by them, either.

Ah, well. Monnk would keep trying. Maybe he would turn up the intensity at some point, but this was enough for now. Anything more would be overkill.

—

“Drift, I swear to the gratii’la Maker that I’ll tear you to pieces if you don’t get us out of here right now!” the captain bellowed.

“Sorry, sir!” Drift apologized, only barely managing to keep the sound of his grin from showing in his voice. “The elevator just stopped! I don’t know what happened.”

Alpha continued shouting threats from behind the doors as Drift pulled his slicing kit out of the control panel. Drift tucked the kit neatly into the pouch on his belt as he chuckled at the occasional Mando’a obscenity the captain tossed into his tirade, half-wishing he could see his commanding officer’s face.

“Alpha!” the administrator chided, her voice only barely audible through the doors between them and Drift. “I’m sure he had nothing to do with it. Why would Drift want to get us stuck in an elevator?”

“What are you laughing about?” Faie asked, approaching with Bacara. “Did you trick another cadet into calling a Kaminoan something inappropriate?”

“Not exactly,” Drift told him, beaming as the sound of quiet conversation reached his ears. They were talking, and that was the precursor to other things.

Bacara’s eyes traveled past Drift, widening as they scanned the panel and found it slightly askew. “Is that-?”

Drift pushed the panel fully back into place. “Alor and Cabur? Yeah.”

“Are you insane?” Faie hissed. “The captain’s gonna kill you.”

“We all knew it was just a matter of time,” Drift said flippantly. “But this might be enough to convince them.”

Bacara shouldered his way past Drift, clearly aiming for the panel while Drift hovered behind him, ready to pull his vod away if he started to undo Drift’s hard work. Instead, Bacara just popped the panel open again, entered a long code into the miniscule keypad, and keyed in his datapad’s frequency.

Then he, Faie, and Drift watched as a grainy cam feed flickered to life on the small screen. The administrator and her captain were standing close - a necessary thing in such a confined space - but they weren’t touching. They were talking, though, and the captain was wearing the softest expression Drift had ever seen on his scarred face.

“Turn on the sound,” he urged. “I wanna hear what they’re saying.”

“I dunno,” Faie told him, eying the way the administrator’s hand settled lightly on the captain’s forearm. “Looks like a private conversation to me.”

“Exactly!” Drift told him, exasperated as he pressed what he guessed to be the correct button on the control panel.

It worked… in a way. A long beep came from the datapad, but it clearly had sounded inside of the elevator as well. Alpha and the administrator pulled apart, their conversation broken off as they glanced around.

“Osik,” Drift breathed, frowning when the expletive was repeated a second later from the screen. He had activated some kind of internal comm system.

Fortunately, Bacara had enough presence of mind to cover him and keep their self-instigated mission from being discovered. “Captain, it’s Bacara. Faie, Drift, and I are working to fix the elevator.”

Alpha snorted, his derision clear even through the tiny speaker of the datapad. “I’d rather not leave our safety to other people. Especially if Drift is one of those other people.”

He raised a large fist, clearly aiming for the control panel inside of the elevator as the administrator’s mouth fell into a stunned gape. Bacara made an aborted move toward the control panel and Drift had time to let out a panicked breath as Faie stared at him, wild-eyed. If Alpha destroyed an elevator that worked perfectly and had just been temporarily stalled, there would be hell to pay from the Kaminoans.

“Captain, wait!” he demanded, pushing the panel open once more, flicking a switch and pressing the four buttons necessary to restart power to the elevator. “We have it figured out now. The elevator will stop on the next floor down, then you can take it wherever you need to go.”

“Kriff that,” Alpha swore. “We’re taking the stairs from now on.”

And when the elevator doors opened on the next floor down, Alpha stomped out, leaving the administrator to trail in his wake.

Faie sighed, shaking his head at Drift. “You’re an idiot, vod. But I’ll give you this: I think I’ve figured out what I’m going to do for my push.”

Bacara disconnected his datapad and walked away with Faie, leaving Drift to put the panel back like he had found it. As he worked, Drift thought about his attempt, analyzing the successes and failures of it. Maybe it wasn’t the most elegant solution, but it hadn’t been a total loss, either.

He wouldn’t give up on it.

—

It didn’t take long for Faie to plan out his attempt. The most time-consuming part of the whole thing was waiting for the right situation to present itself. He needed to be in ARC training, working on defensive and offensive maneuvers, and he needed her to be there.

The administrator being in the ARC training area wasn’t exactly a rare thing, but it wasn’t common, either. That mirshepar'la report took up most of her time. Everyone knew it was busy work, a way of keeping the Senate occupied while the GAR and the troopers did the real work of fighting the Separatists. Well, maybe the administrator didn’t know it… but how could she not? An infant could see that.

In any case, Drift’s stunt with the elevator had given Faie the inspiration he needed to make his plans, and when she came to quietly observe the ARC training, he knew he had found his opportunity. Bacara had pointedly refused to participate in the mission, but he was usually fine with supporting the others in their work. That day, he had triggered a small electric charge that had temporarily frozen the administrator’s datapad. She was paying full attention to the training, guaranteed to see everything that Faie was planning.

“Captain?” he called, attracting Alpha’s attention. “Could you give another demonstration of Maneuver 127? I’d be interested to know how you adjust for the weight of a kama.”

Maneuver 127 was a tricky, showy motion. It required a trooper to fling himself into the air, twist to kick an opponent of equal or greater height, and spiral himself back into position to land on his feet and keep fighting. It was one of the most technically difficult movements in the entirety of Advanced Recon Commando training, and Alpha had perfected it before any of these men had been decanted.

The man in question frowned at Faie. “We went over that move two days ago and you have questions about it now?”

Even for the sake of the mission, Faie bristled at being found lacking. “I understood the rest of it, but I didn’t consider the kama’s effect on balance until today, sir.”

Alpha sighed. “Fine, but watch closely. I’m supposed to be training you sharala men, not putting on a show for you.”

As the captain strode to the middle of the training space, Faie noted with smugness that the administrator was watching him closely. Her attention was fixed on Alpha almost constantly, but it was good to know for certain that she was going to witness his competence and combat abilities. Faie couldn’t think of anything that would impress a female more.

Alpha’s muscles tensed and he leapt into the air, performing every motion perfectly. The kick he delivered was swift, sharp, and brutal - it would disable a droid immediately and any nat-born would beg for mercy just at the threat of it.

When Alpha landed on his feet once more, he glanced around the room. “And that’s how you balance. Any more que-?”

He had cut himself off as his eyes landed on the administrator, who was shaking with silent laughter. She noticed that he was watching her and waved her hands apologetically. “Sorry, I- I’m sorry! That was just… I never knew you were so spinny! It was-” she cut herself off and cleared her throat, striving for a serious tone. “It was very impressive.”

Alpha’s face took on a hint of red under his tan and glared at Faie. “Ten laps, men!”

As Faie ran, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, Neyo passed by and tossed him a sympathetic look. “Alor’s a tough one to crack, huh, vod?”

Faie couldn’t agree more.

—

The second time wasn't his fault, not really.

Drift had been just around a corner when he heard Alpha's exasperated huff emanating from a nearby storage room. "It's not in here, neverd'ika."

The administrator sighed. "Alpha, just- Yes, it is. I just saw it."

Drift peeked around the corner. Alpha was indeed inside a storage closet and his administrator was waiting outside. The lights were off and he was rummaging around on the last shelf, his broad back aimed toward the door.

"You get it, then," the captain huffed. "I don't see it in here at all."

"The whole reason I asked you is because I can't reach it!"

"I can't reach what isn't in here!"

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, stepping into the small storage closet while Drift watched from around his corner.

When Alpha didn't leave the closet or turn around, the opportunity officially became too good to pass up. In seconds, Drift had sprinted up, closed the door, and activated the exterior lock.

The shouts and fists against the inside of the door started instantly, but Drift ignored them all. Instead, he retreated around the corner - safely out of earshot, with the noise in the closet - and activated the group comm frequency the ARCs-in-training had set up.

“Alor and Cabur mission completed,” he reported.

“There’s no way,” Neyo denied instantly.

A sigh that could only have come from Faie emanated from the speakers. “He means he’s trapped them in another elevator.”

“Ooh, bad idea,” Monnk said. “Captain’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if he’s busy enjoying life with his new girlfriend,” Drift countered. “I just need to figure out how to get from this point to that one. Any ideas?”

“Here’s an idea: run,” Monnk advised, and the other ARCs agreed. “You need to be far away from there when Cabur gets out.”

Drift opened his mouth to argue, but a cadet turned the corner, heard Alpha’s demands to be let out, and started for the control panel beside the door. Then he was too busy running to think up a witty reply.

—

Neyo wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. It was part of what had signaled him out as an ideal ARC candidate. More than once, his quick actions and fearless demeanor had been the difference between life and death - not only his own, but those of his brothers and general.

Those skills translated well to ARC training, but Neyo wouldn't have guessed that they could be applied to a conversation between himself and his ARC trainer.

Still, his mind was working overtime as he decided on a day. After the day’s training had ended - and Bacara had helpfully ushered the other men out of the ARC training area - Neyo approached Captain Alpha-17.

"Captain, can we have an honest conversation?" he asked.

Alpha stared at him for a moment, eyeing him skeptically before he checked his chrono and gave a slight sigh. "Fine, but… hurry. I have places to be."

"Meeting your civvie - I know. That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Neyo told him quickly, seizing the conversational opening as soon as it appeared. He didn't miss the way Alpha's expression shuttered, turning icy as he gave a tight nod.

Realizing that was all the invitation he would get, Neyo got straight to the point. "You like her."

Alpha blinked, startled at first, then incredulous. "Like h- Of course I like her! Why would I spend so much time with someone I can't kriffing stand?"

"That isn't what-" Neyo broke off, adjusting the trajectory of his point. "I meant that you clearly have a romantic interest in her. You should just ask her to go out with you. I'm sure she would say yes."

The look Alpha sent Neyo's way made the ARC-in-training's blood turn to ice. Neyo's spine stiffened as every instinct screamed that he was in danger.

But Alpha didn't make a threatening move. He didn't even speak.

Instead, the captain simply turned to leave, holding his glare for every millisecond possible before breaking his gaze.

The minute that chilling look was aimed away from him, Neyo started after Alpha. "Captain-"

"One more word, Neyo," Alpha rumbled. "One. More."

Neyo wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. Theoretically, that included Captain Alpha-17 and his unfinished threats. In practice, though…

He decided to let things go.

—

The ARCs-in-training had to take a step back from their mission before much more progress could be made. A Separatist attack on Kamino had pushed duty before the pleasure that was - depending on the man - a toss-up between trying to ensure the captain’s happiness or thoroughly unbalancing him by putting him in situations he was unprepared to deal with.

On the smallest possible positive side, the attack gave the ARCs confirmation that their captain truly did care for the administrator. He had been unhinged during the attack while they were trying to find her, taking out tinnies with a speed and violence that none of the other men could hope to match even if all of their efforts were combined. And when they had found her, only to see that she had sustained injuries?

Well, none of the men had ever expected to see the legendary Captain Alpha-17 hobbled by his emotions.

Still, she hadn’t let it slow her down too much, despite the cast that wrapped around the lower half of her broken leg. She still spent plenty of time in the ARC training area… though there were also four new men to explain the mission to.

“So you’re trying to form a romantic connection between the two of them?” Tech asked, fiddling with his goggles as he did when he was deep in thought.

“No, of course not,” Faie denied, sounding offended. “That would be ridiculous. They already have a romantic connection.”

“We’re just trying to get the captain to act on it,” Monnk explained.

“Or the administrator,” Drift pitched in. “We’re not picky.”

“Code names, guys, c’mon,” Bacara muttered.

“Alor and Cabur, right?” Hunter asked. He didn’t hesitate or stumble on the pronunciation - trooper memory was too exact for that - but he frowned. “Were those chosen for a reason?”

“They’re Mando’a words,” Bacara explained. He had kept out of things for the most part, but he was good at running interference for his brothers. “Alor means ruler and-”

“Ruler?” Wrecker asked. “Why ruler? She’s not in charge of us.”

“It means ruler traditionally,” Faie told him. “In context of the GAR, it means something closer to ‘leader’ or ‘officer’. She’s basically an officer, or might as well be. Just one who doesn’t see combat.”

“Or shouldn’t have to,” Monnk said darkly and the group grew quiet thinking about everything that had happened during the attack.

“And Cabur?” Crosshair asked. He was easily the least interested of the cadets, but he had asked the question, which had to mean something.

“‘Protector’ or ‘guardian’,” Bacara said shortly. “He’s on his way here now. I’ll hold him up while you all finish explaining. I probably can’t keep him for long, so make it fast.”

They did, quickly explaining what they had done so far.

Crosshair snorted. “You’re all cowards. What you should do is flirt with her, make him jealous.”

There was a beat of silence as the men considered that.

Drift chuckled lowly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do since the first time I met her. Doesn’t work. Besides, none of us want to die at the captain’s hands. That’s not cowardly, it’s… it’s a wise allocation of resources. The resources in question being my face and my ability to keep using it.”

“I believe Neyo’s efforts make the most sense,” Tech opined when they had finished. “If this is something the cap- Cabur wants, the best thing to do is explain how to make it happen.”

“Nah, Faie’s got it,” Hunter disagreed. “She was impressed with everything he did during the attack, so we know she likes his competence. He just chose the wrong move. Civvies don’t understand how hard Maneuver 127 is to do.”

Wrecker grimaced. “Females are tricky and I don’t know what would work. But I’d flirt with her. I’m not scared of the captain.”

From the amused grumbles around the room, no one believed him, but they didn’t contradict him aloud so everyone else moved on.

Crosshair looked thoughtful. “Why don’t you make this more interesting? Turn it into a bet. First one to push them together wins it all.”

“We don’t have money, kid,” Neyo told him, chuckling.

“I’m sure you have something worth betting,” Crosshair said with a shrug. “No trooper leaves Kamino and comes back without any prizes at all.”

"Just help Drift, Crosshair," Hunter told him.

"Yeah," Monnk said with a grin. "Drift needs all the help he can get."

Drift scoffed. "I don't need help because my plan is perfect enough to stand on its own."

"When I die, it's not gonna be because I locked the captain in a closet and he threw me from a platform," Crosshair snarked.

Wrecker laughed loudly, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Yeah, you're gonna die from shame when I take out more droids than you!"

"I beat you during the attack," Crosshair argued. "By a lot."

That sparked an argument between the two cadets, but Bacara’s overly loud conversation warned them that Alpha was coming into the ARC training area, his administrator trailing just behind. The troopers exchanged weighty glances and got ready to train. Their conversation ended there, but the second half of their efforts were only beginning.

—

Unsurprisingly, Wrecker’s plan was the first to fail. He had done his best to flirt with the administrator, but considering that he was a cadet and not one of the smooth-talking ones, his efforts were immediately unsuccessful.

The administrator had laughed, erasing the uncomfortable smile from her face. “You’re adorable, Wrecker. I’ll have to pass, but that was very sweet.”

Wrecker’s smile had faded almost immediately when she walked past him and he was faced with a glaring Alpha looming over him.

“You boys are new here,” the captain ground out while Bacara lingered behind him, ready to interrupt if necessary. “I’ve let you figure things out for yourselves, but maybe that wasn’t a good choice on my part. You and I are gonna go over some basic rules and you can share ‘em with your brothers. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” Wrecker agreed instantly, trying to swallow the nervousness away from his voice.

“Good,” Alpha had said, pausing an extra moment. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Wrecker said again, mostly because it seemed like the safest choice.

“First rule: keep what you learn to yourself. The other cadets don’t need to know what you know.”

“...okay,” Wrecker agreed slowly, wondering what this had to do with the administrator.

Alpha nodded approvingly. “Second rule: don’t pick fights with the other men. You haven’t spent much time with them and you have different skills from the ones they have, but they’re your brothers. If they start something, end it, but you do not make the first move.”

“No, sir. I won’t.” Wrecker was gaining confidence the longer this conversation went on.

“Third rule: if I ever hear, see, or even think you’re flirting with a civilian administrator who is made uncomfortable by the attention, you and I are going to have a conversation that you will - not - like. Do you understand me, soldier?”

Wrecker had snapped to attention by the time the captain had asked his question, and fought the urge to salute as he replied, “Sir, yes sir!”

Captain Alpha-17 let Wrecker dangle there for a minute, one that felt even more intense under Bacara’s concerned gaze. Alpha brought his large hands together, slowly and methodically cracking every joint in his fingers before reaching up to crack his neck. The popping was loud in the taut silence, and Wrecker fought not to flinch with every sound.

“Great,” Alpha said, turning away from him. “I never want to have this conversation again.”

When he had left, Wrecker almost slumped in relief as Bacara let out the breath he had been holding. The ARC trainee let out a laugh clearly designed to break the tension. “Scratch that plan from the list of ideas.”

Wrecker could only agree.

—

Drift was observant. No one would believe it at first - and that was the way he liked things - but Drift took note of everyone and everything. It had helped him stand out from his brothers, and it had helped him take early notice of the way the captain and the administrator had claimed a particular balcony on the lower levels of Tipoca City as their own.

And so he took to haunting that particular section of the city, ready to continue his plan.

It didn’t take long to find the pair out on their balcony, and the door panel didn’t even need to be sliced to make it lock. Ever since the Separatist attack, all of the doors with exterior access had been programmed to lock from the inside, no matter where they were at on the compound.

It was the work of a single moment to engage the door’s lock – it was even soundless. The couple-to-be were none the wiser.

Drift knew better than to call his brothers to figure out the next step. They had shown a startling lack of understanding for his extremely nuanced plans, and were no help when it came to figuring out how to get Alpha and his administrator from ‘trapped together’ to ‘getting together’.

He was on his own.

Fortunately, Drift was an independent thinker, but he really thought quantity over quality of time together would sort things out. Most nat-borns believed in outside forces like fate or destiny. Maybe the admin would think that all of the times they had been locked into places with Alpha were because they were fated to be together and not because Drift was the only ARC-in-training with a valid plan.

In any case, he just had to keep them there. Alpha was a clever man, and he would probably try to slice the lock when he found out they were trapped on the balcony. Drift would block those attempts just enough times that Alor got to see how talented a slicer Cabur could be, then he would gracefully retreat and leave them to romantic bliss.

Of course, graceful retreat and respect of privacy were for later.

Drift pulled his datapad from the pouch on his belt, booting up the feed from the holocam he had strategically placed on the balcony while he was doing his prep work. It was a minuscule cam, impossible to notice unless one happened to look in exactly the right place on the outer frame of the door. And it had an audio feed.

When the feed displayed on the screen of Drift’s datapad, the pair looked peaceful, lost in the bliss of standing in each other’s arms - well, almost - and staring out at Kamino’s gray sky and gray ocean. Despite their depressing surroundings, both looked deliriously happy, like they were watching a sunset on Scarif instead of watching a midday gap in the rain on Kamino. Maybe love really was blind.

Alpha’s arms were on either side of the administrator as he stood behind her. From what little Drift could see of her, she looked happy with that arrangement. Still, Alpha glanced down at the top of her head after a while.

“I think we should go back inside, neverd’ika,” he said, normally gruff voice gentle and full of reluctance. “We both have work to do.”

She stirred gently, giving a sigh so light that Drift was impressed by the tiny cam's mic quality. “You’re right, Alpha. But thank you; I needed this.”

“Any time, you know that.” Alpha was still smiling slightly as he turned around to prod at the door’s exterior control panel.

That smile disappeared entirely when the door didn’t open, and he was outright frowning by the time he had finally accepted that something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” the administrator asked.

“Something’s wrong with the door,” Alpha bit out.

“Uh oh,” she replied, sounding more than a little concerned. “I’m not terribly afraid of heights, but I really don’t want to spend the night out here.”

“We won’t,” Alpha reassured her. “We’ll call someone to let us in. It might just take some time for them to get here.”

“...Do you have your comlink?” she asked. “Because I don’t.”

Alpha froze. “I… don’t. I left it in my quarters with my armor. Along with my slicing kit.”

Drift beamed. Without a slicing kit or a comlink, the two really were stuck out there. They would have no choice but to talk and, eventually, come to terms with their feelings. An extremely intoxicated Commander Hilltop had once told Drift that relationships took two things: chemistry and a crucible. While Drift had a healthy amount of skepticism for anything one of his brothers said about relationships, that one made sense to him. Alpha and the administrator had chemistry, and this was definitely a crucible…

“What are we going to do?” the administrator asked, her voice tight with growing tension.

“It’s okay, neverd’ika,” Alpha soothed, setting a hand on her shoulder. “I have an idea.”

His free hand rose to her other shoulder and Drift held his breath, certain he was going to see his captain kiss the pretty civvie… but Alpha just positioned her in one corner of the balcony.

“Stay there. I’m going to break the door down and I’ll need as much room as I can get.”

“Break the door down?” the administrator asked, watching Alpha with horror.

“Break the door down?” Drift repeated, watching the datapad with horror.

“It’s solid durasteel,” she continued. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

Alpha watched her, raising one eyebrow. “I don’t think so. Stay still.”

He turned and aimed a sharp kick at the panel beside the door. It made an ominous cracking sound, then began to beep frantically. The inner panel flashed with all kinds of interesting colors and warning lights.

“One more should do it,” Alpha reported.

Drift agreed, which is why he sprinted away from the door as quickly as he could. The cam feed on the datapad showed that they made it safely through the door in under a minute. Drift was long gone by that point… though he realized on the way that he hadn’t had time to close the door panel before he left.

—

“I hope you know what you’re getting us into,” Neyo muttered. “It didn’t go well the last time.”

“That is because you tried to advise him based on your own understanding,” Tech countered. “Why should Cabur trust your experience with females since it is so lacking? This information was found scattered in various places across the holonet.”

“That doesn’t make it true, kid,” Neyo argued.

Tech frowned at him, eyes narrowing behind his goggles. “Why would it have been recorded to so many different places if it weren’t true?”

“Because natties don’t make sense.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Neyo sighed. “No. No, I don’t. Fine, let’s try passing on your holonet advice.”

“After considering all of the variables, I believe this will be the best time to speak with him,” Tech explained. “He is about to go see Alor, which puts him in an observably better-than-average mood, but the day’s training has ended, so the captain is less likely to be in a warrior’s mindset.”

“I’m always in a warrior’s mindset,” a voice rumbled from behind them, sending the same tension through the cadet’s shoulders as the ARC trainee’s. “Why are you men so concerned about my mental state?”

Neyo tensed, but Tech turned and breezily asked the captain, “Did you tell her that she looks lovely today?”

Alpha frowned. “No, I- Why would I? Is there something going on?”

“No, but it is always advisable,” Tech pointed out.

Neyo nodded, backing up the young cadet. “Yeah, Captain, he’s right. Females like knowing that they look nice.”

“That’s… not a terrible idea…” Alpha slowly conceded, seemingly searching for a way to think of it as one anyway.

“No, it isn’t,” Tech agreed. “You could also consider bringing her flowers.”

“Flowers?” Neyo tensed, thinking Tech had pushed too far, but Alpha only looked thoughtful. “Why? Did she say she wanted flowers? I don’t know if I could find any, but if she wants them…”

“No, she didn’t say she wants flowers,” Neyo admitted, knowing that in particular could come back to bite them. Tech glared, but Neyo ignored him. Only one of them was being directly trained by Alpha, and Neyo wasn’t going to suffer the consequences if Alpha thought they had tricked him. “It might just be nice for her to get some kind of gift. You know how hard she works.”

“She does work too much,” Alpha agreed with a slow shake of his head. “But if I’m gonna get her a gift, it’ll be something she can use, not some di’kutla flowers. Maybe a vibroblade, or a small blaster.”

Tech shot Neyo a triumphant look, but Neyo shook his head. The captain was smart, and it was too early to start celebrating.

Sure enough, Alpha’s eyes sharpened a moment later. “What brought all this on, men?”

“We simply thought you could use some assistance,” Tech said before Neyo could stop him.

“Assistance,” Alpha repeated, voice slow and dangerous.

“Yes, because you seem to have trouble forming a romantic connection to the administrator,” Tech continued, heedless of the growing danger. Alpha seemed to loom larger in front of the slender cadet as Neyo’s hands tensed, ready to pull him away. However, the feeling of impending violence from Alpha halted as Tech said, “It is quite perplexing, considering the obvious strength of her feelings toward you.”

Alpha halted entirely, and Neyo hadn’t even noticed that he had been moving until that moment. “Get out of here, men. We aren’t talking about this.”

“Oh, but I’ve compiled more-”

“Ever again, clear?”

“Clear, Captain,” Neyo agreed, pulling Tech away. “Thank you, sir.”

When they were out of earshot, Tech turned to Neyo. He looked thoroughly disgruntled. “What were you doing? I had more information to share.”

Neyo stared at the cadet, utterly heedless of the danger he had so narrowly escaped, and shook his head. “You’re one lucky verd’ika, you know that? We’re dropping this.”

Tech snorted, but didn’t refuse. It was good enough for Neyo.

—

“What about Attack Formation 37?” Hunter asked.

Faie shook his head. “No, that’s a group formation. Still impressive, but more based on teamwork than individual strength.”

“Ooh, what if we asked him to demonstrate the right way to disable a weaponized flying probe droid?” Hunter’s dark eyes gleamed excitedly at the prospect.

Faie bit back a sigh. Hunter was a cadet, just a kid. Well, as much as any of the troopers could be considered children, anyway. These cadets in particular had been kept away from the others because of their mutations, which had led to them being far more mature in some ways and far less in others.

Hunter had been a huge help when the ARCs-in-training were helping to take out the Separatist infiltrators around Kamino. Without Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker, it was likely the future ARCs wouldn’t have been able to fight off Ventress. They hadn’t managed to capture her before she fled the planet, but they had kept her from getting the Fett genetic sample or killing more people, which was a better outcome than anyone had expected.

That being said, Faie was beyond frustrated with the way Hunter was straying from the task at hand. Yes, he was suggesting ways that they could showcase Alpha’s competence and impress the administrator…but all of Hunter’s suggestions were far less focused on finding the most impressive moves and maneuvers and far more focused on having Alpha demonstrate all of the things that the cadet wanted to learn.

With infinite patience - or as close as he could manage, anyway - Faie said, “No, that won’t work the way we want it to, either. Flying droid intercepts almost always involve the use of a net gun, which is tricky, but ultimately looks unimpressive.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “Maybe Maneuver 63?”

“That might work…” Faie agreed, filled with relief about an idea that would be acceptable… if not for certain other factors that the cadet wouldn’t know about. “The only problem is that it needs a Z-6 rotary blaster and we don’t keep one of those around, not for practice purposes. By the time we found one, Alor would have probably lost interest or remembered something else she needs to work on.”

Hunter sighed, but froze before he could finish the exhale. “They’re coming-”

Alpha and the administrator stepped through the doors an instant later. Faie appreciated Hunter’s gifts, but that hadn’t been very much warning. “Don’t say anything. We’ll figure it out and try a different time.”

“Cabur’s happy and so is Alor,” Hunter hissed. “We won’t get a better time than this.”

As the couple crossed to where Faie and Hunter were standing, Alpha was clearly trying to ignore them both, but the administrator smiled and gave a small wave in their direction.

“Hello,” the administrator greeted. “What are you two doing today?”

“Trying to figure out a tricky maneuver,” Faie answered, but Hunter interrupted a moment later.

“Captain, what’s the best way to disable the memory stored in a commando droid?” the cadet asked.

Alpha’s brows shot upward, then furrowed as he gave Faie an unhappy look. “That’s the tricky maneuver, Faie? You should know that well enough from your training, soldier. C’mere, kid.”

Faie did his best not to glare at Hunter as the cadet went to stand beside Alpha. “We’re gonna use Faie as our commando droid in this example. The memory storage is here.” Alpha’s fingertips connected roughly with Faie’s body-glove clad chest. “You’ll have to hit hard to get through the durasteel plating in the way. Your best bet is shooting it, aiming for the small maintenance panel here.”

Faie fought not to wince at the second hard prod to his chest.

“I understand, sir,” Hunter said quickly.

“Good,” Alpha approved, sending Faie a dark look. “Faie, where is the memory storage in a B-1 battle droid?”

“In its head, sir,” Faie replied immediately, struck with an idea at the same time. “Maybe you should explain to Hunter how he would remove a B-1’s head by hand if it ever became necessary.”

Alpha’s frown deepened. “He’s a cadet. He would have to use tools - knowing him, a vibroknife would be his first choice.”

“I could use an explanation for when I’m fully-grown, sir,” Hunter told him, eyes brightening in the way they did when he sensed that he could learn something new and interesting.

Alpha snorted. “Tell you what, kid: when you’re fully-grown, find me and I’ll show you then. Deal?”

“Yes, sir,” Hunter agreed.

“Faie.”

“Yes, sir?” Faie asked, a little surprised to be addressed again.

“By the end of the week, I want to see that you’ve logged at least two non-instruction hours on the droid component module.” Alpha crossed his arms over his chest and the administrator looked sympathetically at Faie.

“Yes, sir,” Faie agreed tiredly.

Alpha nodded and left, the administrator by his side.

“So…” Hunter started hesitantly. “What maneuver were you thinking would work best?”

Faie shook his head. “Forget it, kid. I have two module hours to log.”

—

When he couldn’t sleep, Drift made a point of walking around Kamino’s training compound.

There wasn’t much more he could learn from the area - after all, he had spent years mastering every subject and practice activity the Kaminoans could develop and throw at their cadets - but he enjoyed showing the Kaminoans that he could get inside. Their security measures were okay, for civilian stuff, but rudimentary considering that they had trained a literal army to do things like slice locks and break into high-security locations.

One night, Drift was walking through a darkened practice area - utterly lost in the mad tangle of sleepless thought - when a lurching fighter simulator almost crushed him.

It was a testament to his training that he even noticed it, soundless as it had been, but also that Drift was equally silent as he leapt out of the way and turned to study the machinery. It didn’t seem to be damaged or malfunctioning.

It was only then that he heard the slight gasp from inside, followed by a small laugh.

“Did I scare you?” a feminine voice asked, still bubbling with laughter.

A slightly shaking breath answered that, followed by the sound of Alpha's voice. “I’m not scared of much, neverd’ika, but your flying skills are… a challenge.”

An offended gasp. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I am the safest pilot I know!”

“On Coruscant?” Drift grinned at the way he could hear the captain’s raised eyebrow. “That planet has a higher number of speeder collisions than the total population of most planets. Just because you’re the safest pilot you know doesn’t mean you’re a safe pilot.”

“I’m an extremely safe pilot!” the administrator lectured, met by Alpha’s disbelieving snort. “I am! I’m just not used to flying military transport vehicles.”

“I know, that’s why we’re doing this,” Alpha reminded her.

She laughed again. “Alpha, I’m grateful you’re taking the time to do this, but honestly? If it ever comes down to a situation when I’m going to have to fly a military transport to live, I’m probably going to end up dying either way.”

“Not funny, little one,” Alpha growled.

Drift’s spine stiffened reflexively at that tone. The captain only used that voice when he was deathly serious about something… and there wasn’t an ARC trainee among them who didn’t listen when he did.

To his utter disbelief, she didn’t seem even slightly intimidated by the implicit threat in Alpha’s voice. “If you wanted funny, you should have caught me after a full night of sleep.”

“Yeah? When’s the last time you had one of those?”

She fell silent at that, and the quiet lasted long enough that even Drift got uncomfortable.

When the captain spoke again, it was with uncharacteristic gentleness. “It’ll get easier, neverd’ika. The nightmares fade.”

“So you tell me,” she agreed, her tone much less doubtful than the words would make it seem. “Well, since we’re awake, will you show me again how to fly this thing?”

“Yeah.”

When Drift engaged the lock on the practice cockpit, it was a half-hearted gesture at best, but one he made anyway. The simulator cockpits were small, but they were designed for a trainer and a cadet, so they boasted two seats. The locks on the simulators were flimsy and mass-produced, easy to break, and he started to leave the training area without a qualm when he heard the administrator speak.

“Wait, I- I thought I heard something. I’m going to check…” The door rattled, but not hard enough to snap the lock. Not yet, anyway. “We’re locked in. How did that happen?”

Alpha sighed. “That’s been happening a lot lately. Probably Drift.”

She laughed disbelievingly. “Drift? Alpha, you’ll find a way to blame him for anything.”

“And I’m not wrong,” Alpha grumbled. “Do you want me to break the lock? It’ll be easy enough.”

Drift’s tired muscles tensed, ready to launch into a full-speed run before they could leave the simulator and find him there.

The administrator eventually said, “I mean, there's no rush. I'm sure someone who can help us will be by soon. We’ll keep working on this, right?”

“As long as you want,” Alpha promised.

Drift left them to spend time in the two-seater simulation cockpit, grinning to himself when he heard they had been released from it the next morning when one of the instructors had found them sharing the small space as they slept beside each other.

—

“So, men,” Monnk started before the ARC training for the day had begun. “What progress has everyone made?”

“What progress have you made?” Drift countered. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

Monnk shrugged. “I’ve been doing little things here and there, but nothing too crazy. I don’t need the captain catching on.”

“None of us do,” Neyo affirmed. “Though some people could be doing more to distract the captain and keep his attention elsewhere.”

With that, he shot a glare at Bacara, who held up his hands in a palms-out gesture of innocence. “Hey, I’ve been doing plenty, especially for someone who isn’t really involved in any of this! Not my fault I’ve had to work harder keeping a certain cadet from sabotaging everyone else!”

“Cross, really?” Hunter asked, sounding exasperated, if not surprised.

Crosshair shrugged. “No one wanted a betting system. I had to find some way to keep things interesting.”

That sent a generally dissatisfied murmur through the gathered ARCs-in-training and cadets, but no one seemed truly displeased.

“Well, all of my efforts turned bad,” Faie admitted.

“Mine, too,” Neyo agreed.

“A little progress for me, but not much,” Drift told them all.

Monnk sighed, rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. “Well, I think that settles it, then. We’ve done everything we can for them and it’s either worked or it hasn’t. They’ll just have to come to terms with their feelings on their own.”

“So we’re just going to stay out of everything?” Bacara asked carefully.

“Oh, kriff that!” Wrecker said. “We have to know what happens!”

“Definitely,” Neyo agreed with a decisive nod. “We’ll keep tabs on things, but no more interfering. Agreed?”

Everyone agreed, some more hesitantly than others, but the feeling of tension releasing was strong in the ARC training area. Whatever happened between Alor and Cabur happened, but it wouldn’t be directly caused by any of the cadets or future ARCs.

It was something of a relief to all of them. War was easy, but romance? That was tricky, something best left to the professionals.

Whether Alpha could be considered one of those professionals remained to be seen.

---

Author's Note - someone suggested this, and I'm pretty sure it was an anonymous ask, but I'm not 100% on it. Whoever you are, just know that your suggestion completely took over my brain! I hope you enjoyed your gigantic bonus chapter!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here.

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @stargazingthenightaway @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @adriiibell @nomercyforthewarrior @boomtowngirl @quietplaceinthestars @bitchylittleredhead @blck-omen @hrk-fic-recs @lackofhonor @captxin-rex @literallydontlook @kaorikoizumi @salaminus @mothmanbelievesinyou @archivedreading @lucyhelena @tooka63 @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @coruscant-commander @echos-gal @shawtyitsyou @louise-12 @butterbug14 @skyguy-snips @fan-fic-favs @panda2artist @frietiemeloen @tsedeshgishnii @buddee @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @misogirl88 @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @cyarinka @wolffeswife @ladyemxo @maulslittlemeowmeow

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years

Text

Mwolf0Epsilon/TipsyEpsy (Call me Eps)

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🇵🇹 | Adult | She/They | Ace

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Current Fandom: Star Wars

❗❗Cl*nec*st, R*ksoka, M*ulsoka and MasterxPadawan Shippers DNI❗❗

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(Forceful Intervention AU Info Post) - AU under some Reconstruction

(Tatooine Odd Encounters AU Masterpost)

(Eel Side of the Moon AU Masterpost)

(Cabur Kad'edee AU Masterpost)

(Star Wars OC Quiz)

Star Wars OC List under the Cut

---

-Natborns-

Mae Eppa - She/Her, Poluzitanian, 104th Engineer/Mechanic, Smuggler/Rebel Ally, Married to Mambo, Double Amputee (took Grievous's legs to use as her own as a form of revenge), Known as the "Crazy Droid Lady" or just "The Droid Lady".

Fae Eppa - She/Her, Kel Dor, Force-Sensitive, Rebel, Mae's and Mambo's adopted daughter.

Zed Kwinde - He/Him, Trans, Cyborg, Jedhan, Force-Sensitive, Mercenary, Double-Agent (sabotaging the Empire from within).

Vikerius Kwinde - He/Him, Jedhan, Force-Sensitive, Deceased (killed by General Grievous prior to the Malevolence incident).

Sheelah Terruss - She/Her, Shestavenan-Bothan Hybrid, Components Merchant.

Lumah Terruss - She/Her, Shestavenan, Elder, Matriarch of the Terruss Family.

Gustav Terruss - He/Him, Shestavenan-Bothan-Human Hybrid, Rebel, the product of a one-night stand between his mother and a clone, wants to meet his father and learn a little about his human heritage.

Erin Daetiini - She/They, Ruurian, Force-Sensitive, AgriCorps Jedi, MIA Post-Order 66.

Imogen the Betrayed - She/Her, Togruta Mandalorian, Animal Tamer, Huntress, Banished by her Clan (her head-tails were sliced during her banishment), Traveling with Kerberus and her Akul companions.

Sulu Ra - He/Him, Kaminoan, Mad Cloner of Kamino, Has a God complex.

Kera Brookii, the 13th Sister - She/Her, same species as Frog-Lady, Inquisitor, A little on the short side, Adept at lightsaber combat and very power-hungry.

Lyssandr Teklar - He/Him, Tradoshan, "Dead Men Walking" Band-Member, Keyboardist, Force-Sensitive.

Madame Orquídea - She/Her, Yam'rii, Owner and Madam of the Golden Ladybug (a brothel in Coruscant's Red Light District).

Abuela - She/Her, Zabrak, Fruit-stall owner and vendor in Tatooine (More specifically Anchorhead). No one really knows her name and she's not in the habit of giving it freely, so most people just call her "Abuela". Her entire family had left Tatooine years ago in search of new opportunities. For all she knows they’re probably dead since she hasn't heard anything from them in ages.

Kiwi - They/Them, Jawa, a loner that roams the deserts of Tatooine on a sled pulled by their pet massiff. They appear to be on "good terms" with multiple different Sand People tribes since they seem comfortable traversing through different territories, and are also familiar with their sign language. Took Stray in after they found them out in the desert roaming with their massiff pup companion with no signs of their tribe.

Stray - They/Them, Uli-ah (Sand Kid), an orphaned child whose tribe was taken out by hostile settlers. Managed to survive thanks to their mother sending them out with their massiff pup before providing a distraction for them to run away undetected. Roamed for several days before Kiwi found and adopted them. They're rather quiet and reserved.

Makasky 'Mak' Lupma - She/Her, Human-Chiss Hybrid, Zoologist and Wildlife Photographer.

Hugo Espin - He/Him, Human?, a baker that owns a street vending stall on Coruscant, Sponge's significant other.

Molly Espin - She/Her, Human-Clawdite Hybrid, Sponge's and Hugo's youngest daughter, can only change the color of her hair and scales rather than shapeshift properly.

Maraali 'Al' Douma - She/They, Twi'lek-Nautolan Hybrid, locksmith and head of security for the Golden Ladybug.

Dominik 'Domino' Douma - He/Him, Human-Twi'lek-Nautolan Hybrid, Maraali's son who was conceived with the help of a close friend, a bit of a mischief-maker, loyal to those who have earned his respect.

Pia Hamlyn, She/Her, Sollux, Force-Sensitive, Darksider specialized in Force-Suggestion conducted through the use of a musical instrument (basically the SW equivalent of the Pied Piper)

-Clones-

104th:

ARC Trooper Bully - He/Him, Was in Krell's Battalion prior to being reassigned to the 104th, Phase II Armour, Anger issues, Deceased (was killed by Jawbreaker in an attempt to save Mae when the chip took over).

ARC Trooper Jawbreaker - He/Him, Was in Krell's Battalion prior to being reassigned to the 104th, Phase II Armour, Was disfigured by Krell, Deceased (killed himself after killing Bully due to both being afraid that the chip would take over him, and because he couldn't live without his brother).

Clone Medic Hyena - He/Him, left his batch squad due to them being unrelenting bullies, Phase II Armour, MIA

501st:

Clone Medic Sponge - They/Them, Phase II Armour, Known for their cantankerous disposition and desire to be a parent, MIA since Order 66 (their chip malfunctioned during the Temple purge).

Clone Trooper Jelly - He/Him, Phase I Armour, Sponge's closest batchmate, Deceased (died during his first deployment in an incident involving treacherous terrain).

Clone Trooper Lichtenberg - He/Him, 501st Battalion, Phase II Armour, Oldest brother of the Long Name Squad, Accident Prone, Reported as MIA prior to Order 66 (was left behind on Umbara after he was dragged away by a Banshee).

Clone Trooper Acronym - He/Him, 501st Battalion, Phase II Armour, Tup and Dogma's actual batchmate/tube-triplet that they were separated from before being reunited as members of a squad made up of "spare cadets", Deceased (was eaten alive by a vixus on Umbara)

Clone Trooper Poppins - He/They, a shiny that joined the 501st very late into the war and who somehow fell through an inter-dimensional portal, he doesn't know what's going on half the time in this new world he fell into but it sure beats the horrors of war, has a strange fondness for combat umbrellas. He was Tidbit's closest friend and one of very few troopers that actually knew of his existence. He often worries about the vod'ika he didn't mean to leave behind.

Tidbit - He/Him, an experimental clone type originally intended to be used in espionage missions but things didn't quite go to plan (likely due to him being cloned from a later generation of clone where Jango's DNA sequencing was already starting to break down significantly), is 6 inches tall (it's never been disclosed if this was done on purpose or if this was a major glitch in his cloning process), was kept in a cage like an oddity for the great majority of his life which has left him somewhat under-socialized and prone to self-doubt and anxiety episodes, was discovered and rescued by Poppins who took care of him until an incident caused him to go MIA. It's unknown what happened to Tidbit after Order 66. He's not technically a part of the 501st since very few know about his existence.

Clone Trooper Azulejo - He/Him, a veteran trooper of the 501st who is known for being an excellent inker and for having an eye for detail. Has a fascination for traditional painted ceramic tilework, which is where he got his name from (he's never disclosed why he's so interested by this particular kind of fixtures but there's definitely a story there). He is the last living member of his squad and has taken Caramba under his wing. Is one of the 501st's appointed barber's although he excels more at tattoo work and intricate fade buzzcuts.

Clone Trooper Caramba - He/Him, a veteran trooper of the 501st who was disfigured during a particularly harsh campaign. Soft-spoken but highly opinionated. Couldn't get a facial tattoo like he wanted to due to the extensive scarring he was left with, which he moaned about to the very end of the Republic's days. Always keeps his face covered (not because he was ashamed of the scarring but because he his Commander always looked sad when she saw them) and has an extensive collection of handmade balaclavas with different motifs. Became Azulejo's protege due to being the last living member of his own squad, and while he can't really ink intricate tattoos he's very good at styling hair and mixing dyes.

Kit Fisto's Battalion:

Scuba Trooper Geoduck - He/Him, Scuba Armour, Sponge's batchmate, Is socially awkward and has a severe case of Face Blindness, MIA Post-Order 66.

Scuba Trooper Conch - He/Him, Scuba Armour, Sponge's batchmate, Is socially awkward and prefers to offer people shells or sea glass as a sign of appreciation rather than talking, MIA Post-Order 66.

Scuba Trooper Crayfish - He/Him, Scuba Armour, Sponge's batchmate, Identifies as a Problem, has an unusual taste for raw (sometimes still living) seafood, MIA Post-Order 66.

212th:

Clone Trooper Pretty Boy - He/Him, Phase II Armour, Second oldest brother of the Long Name Squad, Self-absorbed and excessively flashy, Deserted prior to Order 66 (couldn't take the "loss" of Lich and ran rather than face Olly).

Clone Medic Canivete - She/Her, Phase II Armour/Medical Officer Fatigues/Flight Crew Gear, part of the Guile Squad Batch, MIA Post-Order 66.

Coruscant Guard:

Riot Trooper Olly Olly Oxenfree - He/Him, Phase I Armour, Baby brother of the Long Name Squad, Was part of an unethical gene therapy experiment that greatly enhanced his physique but left him with chronic pain, Is scared of animals due to having been savagely mauled by two Correlian Hounds, Deserted post-Order 66 and fled with a handful of other Riot Troopers.

K9 Trooper Redacted (ARF Trooper Schrödinger) - He/Him, Reconditioned, Massiff Trooper Armour, Handles a Strill instead of a Massiff, Has a speech impediment due to brain damage, No one has ever seen what he looks like under his helmet, Deserted post-Order 66.

Commander Sturm/The Ion Borg - He/Him, Fox's ill-fated predecessor, Angered the wrong people and paid the ultimate price, Roams the depths of Coruscant as a semi-mindless abomination, Sometimes remembers who he used to be.

Tongue Twister - He/Him, ex-Kamino Guard that was part of the "Volture Crew" (aka, medical staff assigned to harvest viable organs from decommissioned clones), reassigned to the Coruscant Guard, Dental Surgeon (the only dentistry expert in the CG), had his tongue ripped off during his first week on Coruscant, has a VERY morbid/bizarre sense of humor.

Vikerius Kwinde's Battalion:

Clone Commando Dragon - He/Him, Leader of Mythos Squad, Defected after his general's death, Deceased (was killed by Kerberus upon attempting to kill him due to accidental activation of his chip).

Clone Commando Komainu - He/Him, Designated Medic of Mythos Squad, Defected after his general's death, Mute, Deceased (was killed by Kerberus upon attempting to kill him due to accidental activation of his chip).

Clone Commando Basilisk - He/Him, Sniper of Mythos Squad, Defected after his general's death, Missing an eye, Deceased (was killed by Kerberus upon attempting to kill him due to accidental activation of his chip).

Clone Commando Gremlin - He/Him, Designated Technician of Mythos Squad, Defected after his general's death, Hypochondriac, Deceased (was killed by Kerberus upon attempting to kill him due to accidental activation of his chip).

Clone Commando Kerberus - He/Him, Demolitions Expert of Mythos Squad, Defected after his general's death, Deaf, MIA (was forced to kill his squadmates in self-defence because he couldn't hear the order thus he was in direct violation of Order 66), Traveling with Imogen.

Krell's Battalion:

Clone Officer Incognito - He/Him They/Them, Softshell, part of the Guile Squad Batch, Wandering the Galaxy aimlessly in an attempt to keep the Separatist Droids that took over the Venator class ship he was assigned to from attacking Republican space, Is pretending to be a Droid with surprising success, Has so much anxiety...

Clone Captain Carno - She/Her, Weak-willed and somewhat deceitful to the point of being considered treacherous by most other clones, unwilling to take risks due to past bad experiences, keeps everyone at arms length due to having had his trust shattered by Krell, very unsure of himself with little to no confidence to back him up.

ARC Trooper/Lieutenant James - He/Him, Overconfident to the point of arrogance, cowardly and most definitely more of a follower than he lets on, all bark and no bite but his bark sure is loud.

Clone Medic Bon - He/Him, Meek and extremely introverted, very easily startled and intimidated by authority figures, has become a yes-man out of necessity and now it's basically a permanent personality trait, somewhat negligent due to never speaking up for himself or others.

Clone Trooper Clearcut - He/Him, Focused and composed which compliments his unshakeable resolve, the most competent member of his entire battalion due to taking into account all logistics and information available to him, believes in subtlety instead of indiscretion, keeps everything in working order with the help of Capri, knows when to retreat if it means living another day to win the battle, refuses to leave anyone else behind.

ARC Trooper/Corporal Wallflower- He/Him, 1 of 2 living members of Jenga Squad, Man of almost no words (most assume he's mute), an apathetic loner with a propensity for staring at others for uncomfortable amounts of time, prefers not to engage or add anything to the table much to the annoyance of everyone considering he's a brilliant tactician, tends to wander off on his own and leave everyone else to pick up his slack.

ARC Trooper Nowt - He/Him, 1 of 2 living members of Jenga Squad, Insensitive to the point of needless cruelty, extremely argumentative and unwilling to think outside of the box, follows authority without question and is regarded as the biggest bootlicker/snitch of the battalion, would not hesitate to leave someone else behind to save his hide.

Clone Sargeant Caprichoso - He/Him, Passionate and rebellious to the point of being considered an anarchist, extremely creative which he employs in compensating for the rest of his rather difficult/uncooperative team, gets in trouble often due to refusing to sell out his brothers when they do something that would negatively impact the battalion as a whole (even when they would not do the same for him and would most definitely throw him to the wolves).

Clone Trooper Lobo - He/Him, Rude and needlessly aggressive, incredibly distrustful of others and defensive in every social interaction, constantly terrified and prone to lashing out due to having trouble controlling his emotions, is only openly close to Capri and Clearcut (everyone else is regarded with suspicion/open hostility), often a liability out in the field.

327th Star Corps:

Blaze Trooper Pi - He/They, Unofficial Slicer, part of the Guile Squad Batch, a bit of a loner, has a peculiar affinity for circles, code, pie, pizza & frogs, needs reading glasses.

41st Elite Corps:

Clone Trooper Abstract - They/Them, part of the Guile Squad Batch, an accident involving a Sith Artifact has left them permanently altered (and with the ability to physically alter themselves), was being kept in an isolated room within the Halls of Healing in the Jedi Temple prior to Order 66, while not inherently malicious their perception of things has been warped so drastically they no longer know what is or isn't natural in the eyes of others.

The Spongelings:

Clone Cadet Sixer - He/Him, Polydactyly, Wants to be a soldier.

Clone Cadets Patchwork & Ragdoll - He/Him & She/Her, Twins, Separation anxiety, Both are interested in designing and making clothing.

Clone Cadet Cartoons - He/Him, Autistic, Wants to be a comic book artist.

Clone Cadet Bonesy - She/Her, Albino, Wants to be a doctor.

Clone Cadet Sucata - They/Them, OCD, Wants to be a mechanic.

Clone Cadet Leech - He/Him, Iron Deficiency Anemia, Wants to be a doctor.

Clone Cadet Gadget - She/Her, Hoverchair-Bound, Wants to be an engineer.

Clone Cadet Spore - She/They, Deaf, Wants to be a gardener.

Clone Cadet Amoeba - He/They, Force-Sensitive, Unsure about the future.

No Battalion Affiliation:

Clone Medic Pox - He/Him They/Them, Genderfluid, Phase I Armour, MIA, Infected with mutant strain of Chordopoxvirinae Caeruleum (unfiltered air causes him to projectile vomit highly acidic bile that can corrode both organic and synthetic materials).

Clone Cadet Caboose - He/Him, Was a part of an unethical gene therapy experiment that saved his life, Has vitiligo, Is the adopted son of Rhythm (the Guard's communications officer).

Clone Cadet Tulpa - He/Him They/Them, One of five Tubies rescued by Sponge from the clutches of Kamino post-Order 66, Is the adopted son of Dogma.

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (Hippo) - She/Her, part of the Long Name Squad's Batch, was kept by Sulu Ra as a test subject, suffers from cyclopsia which greatly impairs her vision, used to be conjoined at the hip with her twin, Cala.

Supercalifragalisticexplialidous (Cala) - She/Her, part of the Long Name Squad's Batch, was kept by Sulu Ra as a test subject, suffers from polymelia which makes her require a cane to walk due to requiring some extra mobility support, used to be conjoined at the hip with her twin, Hippo.

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (Goch) - He/They, part of the Long Name Squad's Batch, was kept by Sulu Ra as a test subject, suffers from significant skull deformations which give him the appearance of a cynocephalus, is incredibly shy due to his facial structure being so outlandish compared to other clones.

Syrup - He/It, Pox's only surviving batchmate, Phase II Armour (never painted), serving an imperial outpost under his inhibitor chip's influence, has sticky fingers and a whole host of issues due to his chip slowly deteriorating, only identifiable marker is a moth tattoo on the back of his neck.

8-Ball - He/Him, part of the Guile Squad Batch, Phase II Ordinances Specialist Armour, Force-Sensitive but unaware of this, has premonitions of the future that he assumes are just gut instincts.

-Droids-

Julius - He/Him, Prototype Astromech, Speaks primarily in Binary Slang, Holonet Speech and occasionally Galactic Basic, Very Sassy, Has an extensive musical playlist, Mae's BDFF (Best Droid Friend Forever).

Mambo - He/Him, Repurposed Security Droid, Rescued by Mae from a scrapyard he was sold to due to a production defect, Was offered a job in her crew as a medic, Oftentimes the voice of reason of the crew, Is begrudgingly (you love her dude, just admit it) married to Mae.

Hush - He/They, Commando Droid, An excellent shot, Busted Vocal Processor (can only emit static noises and has refused to get their processor repaired because he finds people's reactions to the noises he makes entertaining), Defected to the Republic due to knowing that the Separatists viewed him and their kin as mere canon-fodder, Is only loyal to Mae and her crew.

Conk - He/Him, Modified Gonk Droid, part of Mae's crew and certified barista/caf dispenser for the Wild Buccaneer, has no sense of humor and is actually quite cantankerous for a Gonk droid (probably because he's making caf instead of charging things).

Vik - He/Him, Was built and programmed by Mae to replicate Vikerius Kwinde's personality, Constantly dealing with his existential dread and imposter-syndrome, Despite being a droid he believes himself to be Force-Sensitive (likely due to his purpose being that of emulating Vikerius's personality), Has a crush on Corry.

Corry - He/Him, Delivery Droid, Has great costumer-service programming, genuinely enjoys the cheesy jokes he was pre-programmed with, Has a crush on Vik.

Chompsky - They/Them, Zed's Helper Droid, Serves as an extension of Zed's personality that slowly gained sentience, A bit of a trickster, Likes to bite people.

Kameron - He/Him, Pit Droid, Roams the depths of Coruscant repairing fellow discarded droids in the hopes of reclaiming the lower levels for droid kind to live peacefully and free, is Sturm's only friend (and thus far the only being he hasn't attempted to blast into pieces).

Droid Company - A Battalion of Separatist Droids (Several B1s, one B2 Super Battle Droid and two Droidekas) that named themselves after the NATO Alphabet. Took over Inco's ship and killed everyone onboard but Inco (who was trying to locate the keycode to the firearms closet so the crew could arm themselves at the time of the attack), Adopted Inco (despite knowing he's not a droid but finding him to be nice) and the ship's Medical Droid, a Mouse Droid and an Astromech into their Squad.

Sightseer - She/Her, Sulu Ra's Probe Droid and only friend, has a disdain for most organics as she finds them primitive and disgusting (Ra being the exception).

Harmonii Kord - She/Her, HK-Series Assassin Droid, Band-member, Bass Player.

King - He/Him, modified K-9 Series Droid, Fae's loyal and highly intelligent companion who serves as both the voice of reason and as a guard dog while they're out traveling the galaxy.

Pipsqueak - He/Him, miniature version of the B1 Battledroid series, supposedly a spy model for the Separatist droid army, basically incompetent at everything he does but has well intentions.

Coral & Copikla - They/Them, an AI version of Sponge and Beau created by Sucata and Gadget from Sponge's brain-scans after their abrupt passing, Coral is the main AI with Copikla serving as an extension of their program thus a part of them.

-Animals/Pets-

Fido - Mae's loyal Massiff and the unofficial Wolfpack mascot prior to Order 66. Fido has been by Mae's side for quite some time and despite being a little overfed he's still quick to react when his owner is in any sort of danger.

Beautiful - Sponge's loyal, loving and very intelligent Barghest that they befriended one day while roaming aimlessly in a village during a relief campaign. While Beautiful's origins are a mystery to Sponge, leading up to their first meeting she had ran away from a puppy mill that hosted hundreds of ill animals and terrible conditions. A clever survivor at heart, Beau does her best to help those around her in her own way, just as Sponge did for her.

Roadkill - Redacted's service Strill which later gets to retire with him when they both escape Coruscant post-Order 66. According to Redacted, Roadkill was found in a back alley suffering from a terrible case of mange which made him look like an emaciated corpse. After the strill had healed enough that he could begin training as a K9 unit, it became quite apparent that he wasn't simply born a stray because his coat is rather impressive.

Dog - One of Sulu Ra's failed DNA splicing experiment. He's a loyal, highly social and oddly intelligent little tooka sized frog that was gifted to Tulpa on his 3rd birthday. One day he might become something much more powerful than he currently appears...

Lorelei - Imogen's and Kerberus's most loyal pet Akul. She was raised by both of them and has thusly grown into a very large and fierce huntress.

DJ Subwoofer - Lys's pet Corellian Hound. DJ was rescued from a Kill Shelter on Coruscant, after being deemed a high risk aggressive animal. Unwilling to let the hound be put to sleep for clearly being frightened and never getting proper socialisation as a pup, Lys took up the challenge and began to work on DJ's behavioural issues. With a lot of patience and care, Lys eventually got through to the corellian hound and managed to sooth him. DJ is now a big relaxed softy, and rather affectionate towards both his owner, other animals, and even complete strangers.

Record Scratch - Lys's pet Blarth. Recs was a spur of the moment adoption on Lys's part, as the Trandoshan spotted the blarth being sold in a meat market as a pup and couldn't bare the thought of leaving such an excitable and friendly critter to such a gruesome fate. Never too far from DJ or Lys himself, Recs is a highly social animal that loves to give kisses and play fetch.

Cabur - Olly's pet Shiro, she's a bit of a jerk.

Hotdog - Gregor's service Charhound. She was a bit of an impulsive decision on Gregor's part, but has improved his life considerably since becoming a part of it. Loyal, smart and highly devoted to her job, Hotdog is the kind of critter any runaway commando could ever ask for.

Nurse Macaroon - Bonesy's pet Kittle that she stole rescued from an illegal meat market. While not the fluffiest or cuddliest of pets, Mac is quite clever and highly trainable. She knows over 25 commands, which is less than the amount of cute accessories Bonesy has custom made for her.

Mister Jun - Vikerius's anti-social and perpetually grumpy 5 legged Rib-cat, which has fallen into Zed's care after his previous owner's death. This fussy kitty isn't the friendliest but he certainly seems to like following Zed around, if just to yowl at him until he's fed.

Sunkissed - Cody's emotional support tooka. While their gender is a bit of a mystery due to their long fluffy coat, their sweet disposition is quite apparent. Highly affectionate and sociable, Sunny seems to exist purely to bring comfort.

Vargr & Warg - Kiwi and Stray's pet Massiffs. Both are male but oppose each other in age and personality, with Vargr being older and more disciplined and Warg being younger and excitable.

Garbage Compactor - Sixer's pet barghest.

Flapjack - Mak's pet gullipud.

Pearl - Geoduck's service Akk Dog, trained to help Geoduck with his severe face blindness.

Fantastic - Molly's loyal Barghest-Charhound mix.

Lasagna - Crayfish's Cannok Beast.

Smudge - Caramba's pet Tooka.

-Force Entities-

Oln - They/Them (although often associated with masculine imagery), Most recognisable in their Loth-Cat form, has a fondness and fascination for the clones (often taking on the form of deceased clones, even if something always looks off about them). Is also known as the Ferryman of Epifania.

#Eps Info Post #OC Stuff #Star Wars OCs #Clone OCs

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all-the-things-2020 · 25 days

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Losing Her Way - Chapter Three

Summary: Mirdala’s family is worried about her, but her little brother knows she is safe. Meanwhile, Mirdala and her new friends get a lead on where to find Mandalorians.

Din Djarin paced the living room like a caged lothcat. “They keep track of everything in this damned system,” he said. “Why can’t they find one di’kutla girl?”

Mariana laid a hand on his arm, which made him pause his incessant movement. “We named her Mirdala for a reason,” she said quietly. “I’m worried, too, but I know she’s not only smart enough to get off Gael, but smart enough to keep herself out of trouble.”

Din shook his head. “She doesn’t know anything about how the galaxy works,” he said. His deep brown eyes were haunted with fear. “It’s not just the First Order, there are beings out there who wouldn’t think twice before killing her, and not even for a good reason. And there are slavers, and traffickers, and smugglers, and --”

“And bounty hunters,” Mariana interrupted. “I know there are a lot of lowlifes out there. I married one, after all.” This only elicited a grunt instead of a smile, and she changed her tack. “I trust her, Din. I know you still think of her as your little girl, but Dala’s a woman now. She’s smart and this place is stifling her.”

Din sighed deeply. “Just like it’s stifled you,” he said softly.

“I would do anything to protect Ad’ika,” she said firmly. “You know that. I don’t care if we have to live in a cave and eat worms, if it keeps our son safe from the First Order, that’s what we’ll do. But the kids didn’t have much choice in the matter, and Dala’s at the age where she wants to spread her wings.”

“Cabur never ran off,” Din muttered.

“Cabur is more like you,” Mariana countered. “He has a very strong sense of duty and he lives up to his name in every way. Dala’s more like me … she wants to know things and she’s learned all she can here.” She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her until Din joined her. “I understand why she wanted to leave. I just wish she’d talked to us about it. We could have figured something out.”

Din shook his head again. “All it will take is one person putting two and two together and she’ll lead them right to us,” he said grimly. “I know she’s smart and she won’t deliberately give us away, but she’s lived a sheltered life here. She’s naive. Not like us.”

Mariana laid her head on her husband’s shoulder. “She’s lucky,” she said. “We were able to give her a real childhood and adolescence.”

“You had that and you still ended up a slave,” Din muttered. He shook her off and stood up. “I just … I just can’t stop thinking about all the things that could happen to her out there.” He bit off his words and suppressed a sob.

“Buir,” came a soft voice from the doorway. It was Ad’ika, their oldest son. Oldest was an understatement, as he had been born long before either of them. Being a different species, however, he was still a child even though he was over seventy years old. “Dala’s okay.”

Din rubbed a hand across his face. “I know your mother keeps telling you that, ad,” he said, “but I can’t believe it.”

Ad’ika crossed the room and laid a hand on Din’s leg. “No, buir,” he said. “I feel her. Vod is safe.” He laid his other tiny hand against his chest and half-closed his eyes. A smile played across his little green face. “She is here.”

“Are you sure, ad?” Mariana asked.

Ad’ika nodded. “I always feel her,” he said. “I feel all of us. All the aliit.”

“You see, Din, she’s safe,” Mariana said. “So don’t worry so much.”

“Just because she’s safe doesn’t mean she hasn’t betrayed us.” This was Cabur, who was now standing in the doorway where Ad’ika had been a few moments before, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m as worried about Dala as the rest of you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to whoop her ass the next time I see her.”

Mariana tilted her head at him. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”

“No,” Cabur said flatly. “She knows what’s at stake as much as any of us. And she did it anyway.” He shook his head, looking so much like his father that Mariana had to stifle a laugh. “I know she’s young, and I love her, but it’s not just Ad’ika anymore. It’s Mica and Talia, too.”

“I know,” Mariana said, feeling ashamed at her impulse to laugh at her son. He had a child of his own to worry about now. “And I’m not excusing what Dala did, or condoning it. I just … I can empathize with her. And I want her back safe as much as you do.” She felt the tears coming and this time she didn’t fight them back. As the matriarch of the clan, she’d been doing her best to stay strong for everyone, and she was tired.

Din sat back down beside her and slid his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, cyar'ika,” he said softly. “We’re all on edge. But I think we need to listen to Ad’ika and trust that we taught Dala well.”

“I’ll say if she’s not okay,” Ad’ika said, climbing up into Mariana’s lap. “Don’t cry, buir.”

“And I promise to let you and Dad have first crack at her when she gets back,” Cabur said, sitting down on her other side. “But I’m still going to whoop her ass.”

Mariana laughed. Her boys were exasperating at times, but she wouldn’t trade them for all the beskar in the galaxy.

******************************************************************************** Mirdala woke up in the cramped bunk. She’d had another dream about her family. This time, she’d come home and they didn’t recognize her. She’d shouted at them that she was Mirdala, but they all shrugged. Until Ad’ika came into the room and saw right through her disguise -- or whatever it was -- and laughed at them all for not knowing her.

She stretched carefully as she got up. She’d learned to unfold her limbs slowly to avoid getting muscle cramps. Kuiin still had several days of work left, but he’d promised that as soon as his contract was up, he’d modify the bunk to allow her to sleep more comfortably. Twelve had offered to let her use its charging bay, but she’d had to explain that most biological lifeforms needed to lie down to properly rest.

It was boring on board Kuinn’s ship but the space port wasn’t much more interesting. She’d visited the cantina once, and had to knock three males of various species upside the head and almost fight a duel with a hot-tempered Rodian whom she’d inadvertently bumped into on her way out. On top of that, the drinks were horrible. A roguish smuggler who’d just scored a big payday had bought a round for the whole bar, and she’d ordered a Corellian ale, which had proved to be watered down and flat. It was nearly impossible to mess up a Corellian ale, which is why she’d ordered it, and she was glad she hadn’t spent her own credits on it.

“I have created a set of sabacc cards,” Twelve said as she made her way toward the hatch. “I am working on a dejarik board, but I am unable to find the components for the holo projector.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mirdala said. “But I’m not much of a dejarik player. We had a physical set when I was a kid and my brother always beat me. I do like cards, though,” she added when she saw the droid’s head droop. “We can play sabacc later.”

“Very well,” Twelve said crisply. “Please inform me when you would like to play. I will be doing some software updates to the sensor array.” It turned back toward the cockpit, where it spent most of its time, plugged into the ship’s various computers.

Mirdala stepped outside the ship and stretched all her limbs. The ‘fresher on board was serviceable but she preferred to use the public one in the landing bay, because it was larger and she didn’t feel like she was locked in a cupboard when she used it. After using the facilities, she took a walk around the port. There wasn’t much to see, but it was exercise and sometimes there were interesting species passing through. Just the other day, she’d seen a Wookiee.

After her walk, she went back to the ship and played a few hands of sabacc with Twelve. Half the fun of the game was trying to figure out if one’s opponent was bluffing or not, and playing with a droid made that almost impossible. Maybe I should have stayed at home, she thought as she idly flipped over her cards. Or I should have begged Kale to let me stay on her crew. They had been doing routine cargo runs, but at least it would have been more interesting than sitting around playing cards with a droid and eating the dubious stew that Kuiin insisted on making while he worked, letting the ambient heat of the machine rooms he labored in cook it into an unidentifiable mush that was vaguely meat flavored, with strong top notes of mechanic’s grease.

When Kuiin returned late that day with a covered pot of stew and a small stack of data pads, Mirdala wasn’t expecting the evening to be much different than the others she’d already spent in his company.

“For you,” he said, tossing one of the data pads at her. She caught it just before it hit the ground. “It contains the coordinates of a rumored Mandalorian covert,” Kuiin continued. “I prevented a small explosion the other day and the owner of the machinery repaid me by making a few inquiries. There are not many Mandalorians outside of Mandalore these days, and it is too dangerous to travel there in a ship as small as mine. But this planet … I think we should be safe enough visiting it.”

Mirdala powered up the data pad, eager to read the information on it. “Thank you! When can we leave?”

Kuiin chuckled. “So impatient, youngling,” he said. “My work will be completed in five days. We can leave as soon as I have rested from that shift. Plenty of time for you and Twelve to program the coordinates into the navigation computers and prep the ship for launch.” He waggled a finger at her. “Do it properly or it will delay our departure.”

“Leave it to me,” Mirdala said, already scrolling through the information on the pad. She was finally going to meet a real Mandalorian. Not that her father wasn’t a real Mandalorian, she thought with a twinge of guilt, but he’d stopped wearing his beskar years before she was born. It just wasn’t the same.

#star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Grogu #baby yoda #original mandalorian Character

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martamatta95 · 2 years

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Referred to a previous post (AU-Cinderella / Anastasia). A clip of the dance scene.

Din is standing in front of the ballroom. There are dozens if not hundreds of people are waiting for him to open the dance by choosing a partner.

In the Mandalorian tradition, armor is used in important events that combine politics and celebrations.

On one side of the throne there are dozens of men and women with armor of different colors and they watch it in anticipation, there are many members of many clans.

On the other hand people from other planets and ambassadors dressed in an elegant way or who otherwise aim to attract attention.

Din would love to trade this moment with one from his old life. Go to a desert planet and hunt the bounty of him.

He has come to love the people of him, but he hates being the center of attention. The Force chose him to revive Mandalore, according to The Armorer, and he accepted his role with some compromise. But he had never accepted being put in the middle of a political marriage! Marriage is not the purpose of this party and the political meetings of these days, but the guests never missed an opportunity to bring up the topic.

Din sighs as he watches his suitors to open the dance, he must choose before The Armorer pushes him forward with the flamethrower. At this moment he envies Grogu that he will be eating and playing in peace in the room reserved for children.

Din goes down the stairs evaluating the least bad or neutral, but then...

A latecomer enters through the doors of the great hall. The person in question is a Mandalorian, but that Din armor has never seen it. He has a ferocious and elegant appearance, it is of a bright red color with black decorations and an intense blue. The Kryze clan symbol is in the center of the chest.

The man does not carry Blaster with him, but there are knives tied to his belt and right thigh.

Something pulls into Din's chest and he approaches him completely intrigued. That's undoubtedly a man, so he couldn't be Bo-Katan, he's tall and thin.

Din is certain he has never seen him yet there is something so familiar about him. How he moves... How...

Cobb doesn't really know what he is doing, he found this armor in the armory of Villa Kryze and the door had opened for him. Maybe the lock with the DNA comparison was broken.

The armor fit him perfectly and he would wear it just for the dance and then put it back, before Bo-Katan went on a hunt for his blood for taking what, of course, was an family heirloom.

As soon as he entered the Ballroom, the guards let him pass looking at him as if he were a ghost, the same look that many Mandalorians were giving him.

He had spotted Bo-Katan in the crowd as he talked to Ashoka. Then both women turned to look at him. The Jedi smiles softly at him, as if she could see under his helmet.

Instead Bo-Katan had opened his mouth and squinted, as if he were about to cry, and Cobb hopes she doesn't attack him in front of the guests.

Then Mando is in front of him, despite the helmet, the Marshal can imagine that he is watching him intently.

Cobb sighs before bowing respectfully before the King. "My Mand'alor", he greets him and his voice is more confident and stronger than he thought.

"Who are you, verd?"

Cobb would like to introduce himself: 'It's me, the Marshal of a small town you have met twice in your life. The man who lost the battle with the Pykes because he got himself shot. I've never stopped thinking about you... but what can I offer you, compared to all the people who are watching us?'

"Kryze", his words come out of his mouth following a strange instinct, maybe it's the fault of this armor.

"Cabur Kryze...", something hurts in his chest as he pronounces this name, but Cobb chooses to ignore this feeling.

Mando seems curious and surprised by this revelation. "I thought Bo-Katan was the last remaining of her Clan".

Cobb sighs "I've been away from home for too long", and these words feel so true.. he has felt more at home here this week than all those years on Tatooine. He always felt that he didn't belong in Freetown, that this was just a passageway until they were safe.

I send to interrupt his turbulent thoughts to offer him my hand, "Shall we open the dance?".

Cobb swallows the lump in his throat, he has to give all his willpower to not throw himself at the man.

"Honor me, my Mand'alor", he manages to speak in a calm voice grabbing Mando's hand. The 'his' Mando...

The music starts and Din feels really shy and awkward, if he didn't have the helmet covering his face he is sure he would melt.

This man gives off heat like a sun and moves light and agile guiding Din in the dance.

"Relax, my King", he pronounces him in a sweet and so familiar voice, "We are not leaving for the front, it is a day of celebration".

Din would like to ask him if they know each other and if he knows why his heart is beating wildly and he seems to have recognized it before his brain.

Everything disappears around them as they dance and Din finally melts away, dancing more smoothly and less awkwardly.

He would like to freeze this moment forever, just him and this mysterious stranger, dancing forever under the lights of Mandalore.

But like all good things, everything ends, the music stops playing. As tradition, the two dancers have to bow and shake hands, but Cabur doesn't ...

He surprises Din once again, touches their foreheads together in a kiss from Keldabe and that takes the breath away from the King's throat as his cheeks burn and he really wants to take this man aside to talk to him or perform another dance.

Shit... Shit! Shit!!!!!

What the hell is wrong with you, Cobb?! A kiss from Keldabe is already quite significant on everyday occasions, let alone in such an event.

Why couldn't Cobb just sit still and mind his business?! Why couldn't he be unsociable with Fennec and raid the dessert buffet?!

He takes a step back, as soon as he hears amazed noises from the guests, and lets go of Mando.

He should apologize, he should explain the gesture in something friendly that hides no proposal or ulterior motive.

Instead he bows again, "Thank you for the honor you have brought me, my Mand'alor".

He doesn't want to deny that kiss, not tonight, especially here in Sundari, where he feels at home for the first time. Where it is certain that his birth parents are from here. His repressed childhood memories are blooming more and more every day, like flowers in spring.

And for tonight, with his face covered, he has found the courage to kiss the man he loves.

Mando seems too stunned by Keldabe's kiss, who doesn't immediately notice Cobb moving away slowly, while continuing to watch him taking small steps backwards.

"Will I see you again?" The question is asked so quietly that Cobb is almost certain he imagined it.

"I doubt it", the words hurt the Marshal in pronouncing them.

"Have we met before?", Mando asks breathlessly.

"In a dream full of Earth Dragons", he replies enigmatically, then turns and walks out of the ballroom.

#cobb vanth #the mandalorian #dincobb #din djarin #star wars #fanfiction #mandalorian #bo katan kryze #ashoka tano #dancers #cinderella #anastasia

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dindjarindiaries · 3 years

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Breakable Heaven - Chapter 9: Cruel Conversations

summary: Seeking closure goes wrong as you soon find your heaven with Din placed under a serious threat.

warnings: angst, parental problems, fluff

rating: T

word count: 6.487k

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 9: cruel conversations

“It’s been weeks, Drinna, please!” your mother’s voice begs.

You can see the orange Twi’lek clear as day as she looks upon your parents with sympathy. “I gave ‘em my word,” Drinna insists. “I’m sorry.”

“We don’t know what to do with ourselves,” your father adds. You’ve never heard his voice so desperate and broken before. “We just want their forgiveness—we want them back in our family. Please, tell us where they are.”

Drinna shakes her head. “I don’t break promises. I can’t tell ya’—I’m sorry.”

Your parents share a defeated look before your mother begins to weep into your father’s shoulder. Despite all the hurt they’ve put you and your lover through, you can’t help pitying them in this moment as you try to reach a hand out to comfort them.

“I’m here,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t need to find me, I’m right here.”

They don’t hear you. Your father turns your mother and himself around as they walk away from Drinna’s stall.

“Wait!” you call after them. “Don’t go! I’m right he—!”

“Cyar’ika, ner kar’ta,” Din’s gentle voice rouses you from your dream. Your eyes widen as you look to see Din’s expression of concern hovering over your face, the silhouette of his image against the walls of his room in the covert familiar and comforting. He pauses for a long moment, letting you get used to the surroundings of reality as he runs his knuckles over the side of your face. “Was it another dream?”

You nod, taking a gentle hold of his wrist to keep his hand pressed upon your cheek. Din’s gaze softens yet also fills with more worry as he goes on.

“Was it about them again?”

You nod with a sigh, averting Din’s gaze as you speak. “I don’t know why I keep dreaming about them.” You frown as you lock eyes with Din again. “I don’t want to feel bad for them, Din. They don’t even deserve it.”

“You can’t help it, cyar’ika.” Din runs his thumb over your cheek and kisses the wrinkle in your brow. “You’re kind and caring, and—despite the way they’ve treated you—you love them.”

You study Din’s affectionate gaze, which makes the thought of your parents even more sickening. “But not like I love you.”

“I know.” Din takes his hand from your face to hold your hands between his. His eyes study you as he takes a deep breath. “What can I do?”

You look at him with pleading eyes. “Just stay here with me a little while longer.”

Din nods, smiling and obliging as he lies beside you in his bed again. He pulls you into his chest, letting you hide your face in his neck as you hold him tight. Though training awaits him in a short while, Din’s taking the risk just to make you happy—causing a smile to cross your lips as you try to think of all the good things you’ve experienced since leaving your home.

You’ve become a true part of Din’s covert. Zena’s become like a sister to you, trying whenever she can to convince you to stay with them. Cabur has shown you what a true father figure should be like, even with his use of a tougher kind of love. The Armorer has given you words of wisdom that you know will guide you for years to come. The foundlings have considered you to be one of their own, calling your name daily throughout the covert with reverence.

And of course there’s Din, who gives you more and more reasons to love him every day.

You’ve only become closer since sharing that night by the stream. He’s become your anchor in a time full of such uncertainty and you know you’re the same thing for him. As each day passes, the summer winds down more and more, and very soon Din will be swearing his Creed and vowing to never remove his helmet in front of others again—aside from his riduur, which he’s explained to you before. You know he’s excited to prove his dedication to his newfound people, you also know he’s nervous to make such a strong change, especially with the reality of the things you’ve been able to share with the freedom of truly seeing him.

Meanwhile, you’re wrestling with what you should do when summer comes to an end. Though the choice should seem obvious to you—remaining with Din and his covert—there’s still a part of you that’s acknowledging the idea of reconciliation with your parents. You’re unable to lose all hope in them, something Din’s tried his best not to make you feel guilty about. He’s been successful enough for you to keep thinking about seeking them out and trying to mend what’s been broken, but you’re afraid this hope is too optimistic.

“You’re thinking loudly, cyar’ika,” Din attempts a joke.

You chuckle and close your eyes, pressing your face further into the warmth of his neck. “The summer will be ending soon, Din.”

“Yes, it will.” Din runs his hand over your head as he continues. “And then you’ll have to force yourself to be able to resist me.”

You laugh louder at that. Your face rises from the refuge of his neck as you give his chest a playful shove. Din laughs with you. “It’s not funny,” you say with a pout. Your hands caress his face as if it’s the last time you’re seeing it. “How will I be able to handle not seeing this every day?”

Din smiles with reassurance as he urges your forehead to meet his. “It won’t be too long until you become my riduur, cyar’ika—and then, you can see me as much as you want to.” He kisses you and pulls away quickly, as if he’s hesitating. You can see worry within his brown eyes as they search your gaze. “If… you want to be my riduur.”

��Din, don’t be ridiculous.” You pull him back to you for another kiss. “Of course I do.”

When you pull away, you can still see some concern within Din as he goes on. “The summer has gone by quickly.”

You smile at Din, knowing it’s now your turn to reassure him. “And you’ve already shown me a love I’ve never known before.”

Upon hearing the sincerity in your tone, Din’s able to smile with you, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. “As you have also shown to me.” With a deep sigh, Din forces himself to pull away and gesture to the rest of the room. “While I would love to only pursue that, I also have to train so I can continue to protect you.”

Your smile remains as you let him get up and watch him get ready from the bed. “I won’t hold you back.”

Din stops what he’s doing for a moment to walk back over to you. “You never have.” He kisses your head before continuing with his routine.

After a few more minutes spent bathing in the peaceful silence and admiring your lover, you also begin to act and get yourself ready for the day ahead. While Din’s sweet reassurances have put you mostly at ease, your dream still remains at the back of your mind. The urge to see your parents again grows more and more, sitting like a stone within your heart as you kiss Din goodbye and make your way to get first meal.

Zena’s already seated there, her head turning to you as soon as you enter. She smiles and waves you over, standing to get you something to eat. You thank her and try to exhale your anxieties, though they continue to remain. You’ve been hoping your worries haven’t been obvious, but when Zena approaches you, there’s a look of concern on her face as she hands you a plate and sits beside you.

“How are you, vod?” Zena asks, her tone soft and void of accusation—in a way that reminds you all too much of her brother. “You seem upset.” She lowers her voice as you watch a new fearful glint appear in her gaze. “Is it something with Din?”

“No, no, Din and I are fine—great.” You reassure her with a smile you wish you could make more genuine. Zena waits for you to go on with a look of patience. You take a deep breath and push around the food on your plate. “It’s… well, my parents.” You look from your plate to Zena and see sympathy flood her gaze. She knows about what’s happened with your parents, though not to the degree that Din knows. “I keep feeling this urge to try to make amends with them.”

Zena nods as she prepares to offer her best advice. “I’m guessing you’ve told Din about this, too.” You nod to confirm her words. She takes a deep breath before going on. “What’s holding you back from talking to them?”

You shake your head, trying to find the right words to say. “Zena… the things they said about your brother, and even myself…” you meet her gaze with a sense of dread, “I’m afraid I’ll just hear worse things the second time around.”

“That’s understandable.” Zena offers a hand to you, one that you accept with gratitude. She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “But as long as you know the truth about Din and yourself, their words can’t have power over you.” Zena pauses and searches your gaze to make sure you’re still all right. “You’ll never know what they’re going to say until you give them the chance to speak.”

You’re so floored by Zena’s wise and true words that you can’t think of any words to say for a long moment. When you finally find your voice, your thoughts come out with a chuckle. “Zena, I feel like you’re the older one between the two of us.” She laughs with you but also remains attentive as you go on. “You’re right.”

“Of course, you don’t have to take my advice.” Zena gives your hand another squeeze to assure you of her words. “But it’s something else to think about.”

You nod, smiling to prove you understand what she’s saying. Zena returns your smile and releases your hand.

“Just like the inevitable wedding ceremony for you and Din later down the line.” Zena’s attempt to make things lighthearted again is successful as you laugh at her words, feeling your face get warm in slight embarrassment. “When will that be happening?”

You shrug, continuing to eat as you do so. “Eventually.” Your gaze finds the threshold of the room as you think about your earlier conversation with Din. “With him swearing the Creed soon and putting on that helmet… it’ll probably be pretty soon.”

Zena laughs and you do the same. The conversation that ensues manages to take your mind off of things for a long while as you just enjoy the time you get to spend with someone who already feels so much like family. It’s only when she’s called to help the Armorer with something that you’re left to reflect on what you and Zena had first spoken about.

You wander the tunnel of the covert with a thoughtful expression. You’re wrestling with everything Zena had said earlier and her truths about giving your parents a chance to speak. You know you’re mostly afraid because when you speak with them this time, you can’t bring Din with you. This reconciliation has to be between you and them—and no one else. You refuse to let them use Din against you and you’re confident you’ll be able to protect yourself from them if need be.

You stop in place when you hear one of the foundlings calling out your name. You turn and see the little one running towards you with a bright smile. A smile of your own also grows as you kneel down to meet them, holding them in your embrace with a strong feeling of joy. When they pull away, they look at you with sheer happiness.

“Sometimes I just—I can’t believe you’re still here!” the little foundling exclaims.

“Me too,” you agree with a chuckle.

The foundling giggles. “Are you gonna stay forever?”

Your smile becomes more wistful as you run a hand over the foundling’s head. “I would like to.”

The foundling cheers and hugs you once more. “You make us so happy, ori’vod.” They pull away with a mischievous smile. “And Din, too.”

You laugh and pat their head. “You make me happy, too.”

Before the foundling can say more, they’re called for by another Mandalorian. You nod at them to urge them to go. The foundling smiles and runs back to where they came from, leaving you as you kneel on the floor and watch them go. Watching them and reflecting on what they’ve just said makes a realization dawn upon you that rocks you to their core.

You’ll never be able to have the future you want here in the covert if you can’t let go of your parents.

Living with that regret will hold you back forever and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of the life you want to have with Din and his extended family. It hits you all at once in a way that makes your eyes widen. You leap to your feet, filled with a renewed strength to speak to your parents once and for all. You know that if you don’t act now, while you have the faith and heart to speak to them, you never will.

That’s what gets you to race towards the training room before you can give it a second thought. The last thing you want to do is distract Din from his duties, but you don’t have time to waste. You’re afraid this feeling is going to run out and you’re going to be left in a life of regret. Your heart is pounding as you close in on the training room, pushing the curtain aside and calling for Din before you can stop yourself.

“Din!” you exclaim, freezing at the threshold as you observe the scene.

Din’s just thrown a vibroblade at a target and landed it in the direct center, though his brown eyes are on you before he even sees where the weapon went. The others who train with Din—including Paz—also look your way, surprised by the sudden interruption. Cabur’s helmet is the last head to turn towards you, the metal tilting in a way you’ve come to realize is full of concern.

One look between Din and Cabur grants Din permission to hurry over to you as he eases you past the curtain and into the tunnel. His hands grip your shoulders as his sweat-coated brow furrows in intense concern for you. If your adrenaline wasn’t already pumping, you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything except for the evidence of Din’s hard training.

“What is it, cyar’ika?” Din asks, breathless in his sudden worry for you.

You blink a few times, realizing what you’ve done as you look away from Din’s intense gaze. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to interrupt or embarrass you—,” you start to say.

“Don’t apologize.” Din’s words are firm as he lifts a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him again as he searches your gaze. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

You take a deep breath and nod in determination. “Din, I’m going to talk to my parents.”

Din looks at you with disbelief, but once he’s absorbed your words, you see pride for you in his expression. “Are you sure?” You know he’s asking only because he wants to make sure you’re not pressuring yourself to do it. You offer a smile as you nod again, causing Din to do the same. “Okay.” He gestures with his head back towards the training room. “As soon as I’m done, we can—.”

“No, Din.” You stop him before he can say the words you know deep down you want to hear. As hard as it’ll be for both of you, you know you have to face them on your own. Din looks puzzled as you hold his wrists and ease his hands off your shoulders, instead bringing them to your chest. “I’m going now.”

Din’s brow furrows more at that. “Alone?”

You nod. “I have to.” Before Din can argue, you provide your reasoning. “If you come with me, they’ll think you forced me to say what I want to say, or they’ll try to use you against me.” You’re relieved to see understanding in Din’s eyes. “And I can’t let them abuse you with their words again.”

Din exhales a deep breath, his gaze falling to his feet for a moment as he considers your words. When he looks at you again, you can see your own determination reflected back at you. “All right, cyar’ika. If that’s what you want to do, then I’m going to support you all the way.” He frees his hands from your grasp to hold your face. “But if they do anything to you…” Din trails off, letting you fill in the blank for yourself.

“I’m coming back here no matter what they say.” You cover his hands with your own. “I’m not going to be asking for their forgiveness. I’m just… going to tell them what I need to so I can finally let them go.” You smile as you lift one of Din’s hands and kiss his palm. “Then we can live together with no regrets.”

Din returns your smile, giving you a nod. “I like the sound of that.” He takes another deep breath, pulling you towards him as he leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead. “Be safe. I’ll be here waiting.” Din presses his forehead to yours as he adds one last thing. “I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Your heart swells with sweet love as you take in as much of it as you can manage. “I love you, Din.”

“I love you, too.” Din kisses you before he pulls away, backing away from you with reluctant steps. “Promise me you’ll come back as soon as you’re done and tell me all about it.”

You continue to smile as you nod. “I promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, Din returns your nod and disappears inside the training room, causing you to take a deep breath before you turn towards the staircase that will take you out of your safe haven.

You’ve never walked to your parents’ shop with such a purpose before. Usually, it’s been a half-hearted stride, one full of reluctance to work in a place you couldn’t stand. But now, you see all the optimism of a free future ahead of you, another chance to make your shared heaven with Din last not just the rest of the summer but forever. No matter what’s said, at least you know you’ll be able to live with Din free of regret.

You’re already standing in front of the shop by the time these thoughts have quieted down. Seeing it makes a new fear creep into your bones, but you refuse to give in to it. Instead, you think of the strength you’ve seen within Din, summoning the same for yourself—a Mandalorian-to-be—as you step inside.

The bell rings as the door closes behind you. Your observant gaze watches as your mother’s head looks up from her work at the counter. Her eyes meet yours and the disbelief on her face is as clear as day. You almost think it might morph into anger until she starts to smile, calling out for your father as she runs around the counter and meets you in the middle.

Falling into your mother’s embrace is relieving after all the times you’ve dreamt of her never hearing you. Your eyes fill with tears mixed with all kinds of emotions as you bury your face in her shoulder. She cradles you there for a few long moments, also composing herself as you hear your father’s footsteps coming up behind her. When you lift your face, you can see him standing there, smiling with the same amount of relief as your mother.

“Mother, father,” you greet in a hoarse voice, thanks to your throat that’s been struggling to keep your emotions tucked within.

“We’ve been so worried about you,” your mother confesses. Your father nods to agree with her.

“I know I… didn’t leave on the best of terms,” you say, wanting to get right into it. “But I’m safe where I am—and happy.”

“Well, we’ve been thinking a lot about it, too,” your father chimes in. His hand rests on your mother’s shoulder as they face you with a care you haven’t seen from them in a long time. It makes the sweet feeling of hope spark in your chest, giving you the thought that they might just make everything so much easier for you. You give your father the time to further explain his words. “All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe and secure.”

“I definitely am,” you assure them, thinking of both Din’s and Cabur’s oaths to stand up for you in any circumstance.

“As protective as your Mandalorian may be,” your father continues, and you don’t miss the hint of bitterness in his voice as he acknowledges Din, “we want to provide you with the opportunity to better learn how to protect yourself and those around you.”

You smile, letting yourself believe they’re going to let you stay with the Mandalorians to train with them. Now that they’ve seen for themselves you’re okay and happy, you’re almost sure they’re going to finally let you do what you want to.

Until your father speaks again. “That’s why we’re sending you to the Imperial Academy instead of the Brelle system at the end of the summer.”

The smile wipes off your lips faster than you can even conceive of the words your father’s just spoken. You stare at your parents and their audacity to look happy, as if they’re expecting you to look the very same. You’re so shocked that it takes a few long moments before you can even think of what to say. “You’re… what?”

“We’ve heard more about the opportunity from some of the other shopkeepers,” your mother explains. “Their children have gone and they now have jobs protecting entire cities and planets. We thought it would be a much better fit for you than continuing the family business.”

You shake your head, the movement slow at first and then getting quicker as your denial becomes more vehement. “No.” You release a mirthless laugh as you take a step away from them. “No, I’m not doing that. I’m not going there.”

Your father sighs with exasperation. “Now, don’t be childish—.”

“Childish?” You scoff as you start to raise your voice. “I’m not… I’m not even a child anymore! What makes you think you can make this kind of a decision on my behalf?”

“That murderer cannot give you the life you want,” your mother insists.

Your blood boils at the way she’s referred to your lover. “He’s not a murderer!” You take a breath and prepare to continue arguing, but realize it’s pointless. You laugh again, but this time with victory as a new thought comes to mind. “You know what? You two can’t control me. I’m not even a part of your family anymore.” You start to turn on your heel as you prepare to leave, satisfied with the idea that you did all you could to reconcile with them. “I have another one.”

“A family we’ll gladly turn over to the Imperial authorities if you refuse to go.”

Your father’s words cause you to freeze in place. Your eyes go wide as your heart almost stops beating within your chest. There’s a cold chill running down your spine that keeps you in place as you manage to open your mouth and speak, unable to meet your parents’ faces again. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know?” Your father chuckles. “Of course you don’t. The Empire is looking for Mandalorians to finally make them pay for their crimes during the Clone Wars.”

You turn slowly to face them, only feeling even more horrified at the severity on both their faces. “You wouldn’t.” Your voice is nothing but a haunted whisper.

Your parents exchange a frustrated look. “We’ll do what we have to in order to help you succeed,” your mother responds.

You shake your head, your lips trembling with both anger and grief as you stare fiercely at the two beings you can no longer bear to call your parents. “I hate you.” The words come from behind gritted teeth and from a heart no longer clinging to the dull spark of hope you’ve held onto for so long. “You’ve never once—not once—made a decision that’s been good for me.” You step towards the two people standing in front of you with an accusatory finger pointing their way. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your image and your desires that you’ve never once cared to consider mine! I hate you!”

“You’re just misguided,” your father insists. “You think you’re in love with a criminal and you’re trying to live amongst others. We want to help you!”

You clench your jaw, knowing the words you want to say won’t be worth it as you instead release a scoff. “I’m not the one who needs help.”

“Our minds are set,” your father responds, sharing a look and a nod with your mother. “If you’re not at the Imperial Academy by the end of the summer…” Your father shrugs. “You should warn your ‘new family’ about what you’re bringing down on them.”

You stare at them in disbelief of the pure evil they’ve become. The fond times of the past feel like mere dreams as you watch all the love you had left for them pour away. With a shake of your head, you speak your final words in a quiet and strained voice. “And to think I still held on to my love for you for so long.” You start to back away in small and unsure steps. “I hope one day you can learn to love others like my true family does.”

Finally, you turn around and walk away, wishing with all your heart you could leave your problems behind you but knowing you’re only going to carry them further. Your heart aches more and more the closer you get to the place you want to call home so badly. It doesn’t hurt for those you once called your parents any longer; you know you’ve done all you can to reconcile with them. It hurts for the people you now call family, the ones who are in danger because of you.

You’re still in such shock from the information you just learned that you haven’t started to process the way it makes you feel, aside from your initial anger and disbelief. But when you make it to the covert and descend the spiral staircase, everything begins to culminate within you. Everything you set out to do when you spoke with your parents went astray.

Rather than saving your shared heaven with Din, you ruined all chances of keeping it.

The devastation, fear, and remorse begins to hit you just as you hurry to Din’s room. Once you push aside the curtain and see him pacing the floor, you know you’re about to break. Din looks at you with brown eyes full of hope as he offers a curious raise of his brow.

“How did it go, cyar’ika?” Din questions, as innocent as ever to the horrors you’ve just been told.

His voice—oh, his sweet, sweet voice—is what shatters you. Your resolve falls as you choke out a sob and seek the refuge of Din’s arms. He catches you there in his familiar and comforting hold, letting you cling to him as tightly as you need to while he sets his reassuring hand on the back of your head. Din sways you back and forth in a gentle motion, offering reassurances of your safety between the kisses he places on your head. It almost completely heals your heartbreak—until you keep reminding yourself of the way you won’t get to experience such love in the near future. When you’re finally able to say something coherent, all you can think of doing is wailing his name with grief. “Din,” you sob into his shirt, pulling him as close as you can manage.

“I’m here,” Din assures you, yet again kissing your head as he waits with his usual and endearing patience for you to gather your thoughts.

“Din, they… th-they…” You’re still struggling to compose yourself. You heave a deep breath, hiccuping as you choke on a sob you’ve been trying to swallow back.

“Did they hurt you?” Din’s voice is so low that it’s almost a growl, as if the thought of what they could’ve done to you alone makes him angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“No—not yet, not physically, I…” Your words are a mess as you force yourself to take another deep breath and get the truth out. “Din, they’re sending me to the Imperial Academy.”

Din tenses as soon as he hears you say that. You’ve only told him half the truth and you can still sense his distress, making the road that lies ahead look even more grim. “The… Imperial Academy?” You nod to confirm his words, sniffling as you try to keep your emotions under control. You’re still clinging to him for dear life. “Why?”

“They made up some bantha fodder about wanting me to be able to protect myself.” You scoff, feeling the anger yet again dominate your sadness. “They just want me to be conditioned to their liking and unable to think or act for myself.”

Din sighs and urges you to lift your head from his chest, holding your face between his hands as he offers an encouraging smile. “Well, I have a solution.” He kisses your forehead before continuing. “We keep you here with us as long as you would like, where you’ll be happy, safe, and sound.”

Your lips tremble as you shake your head at him, watching his image blur before you. “I have to go.”

Din frowns, his brow knitting in both confusion and concern. “Why?”

You swallow back a sob as you force the words out. “If I don’t go, they’re gonna turn your covert over to the Empire.”

Din’s expression falls as he searches your gaze with disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re gonna tell the Empire your covert is here—and wipe you out.” You shake your head again as you bite your lip to keep your cries tucked within. “I can’t let that happen to you.”

You can tell Din’s becoming just as desperate as you are to find a way out of this lose-lose situation, even though you both know there isn’t one. “I’ll tell ner alor and we’ll find a new place to go, and you can come with us.”

You close your eyes and lean your forehead against his in defeat. “And my parents will still tell the Empire and your covert will have to live your lives on the run, all on my account.”

Din’s hands tense on your face as he keeps trying to think of new options. “We’ll just send someone else in your place to make them think it’s you.”

“They’re going to see this all the way through, Din. They’d figure it out.”

You can hear Din’s erratic breathing as he proposes one last solution. “We’ll make them change their minds.”

You reopen your eyes at that, seeing Din’s devastation as his brown eyes meet yours. Ever since the day you met, you’ve known how gentle he and his eyes are, something that makes you ache as you watch them flood with such feelings of despair. Your hands meet the sides of his face as you brush your thumbs over his cheeks. “I can’t let them think they were right about you, Din.” Your words are whispered with sincerity. You shake your head and release a defeated sigh. “We’re out of time.”

All Din can do is stare at you, almost as if he’s taking in the sight of you while he still can. It shatters your heart as you watch a single tear escape one of his achingly beautiful brown eyes. “We can’t be.” His voice is a strained whisper. “Even if… it feels like I’ve loved you forever somehow, we’ve only just begun our lives together.”

“I know.” Your voice is just as hushed as Din’s as you wipe his tear away. “I’m sorry.”

Din shakes his head at you. “It’s not your fault.” His hand presses against the back of your head, urging you to bury your face in his chest again. He kisses your head as he continues. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” Din holds you close in the comforting way that always seems to keep you calm, even in the midst of a hopeless situation like this. “I told you once and I’ll tell you again: you don’t have to take responsibility for the things your parents say and do.”

Din’s words help your guilt to fade away, but you’re still at a loss. Seeing Din grieve just as you are makes the whole situation much more real. The searing pain of heartbreak engulfs your chest as you instead try to focus on the rhythmic beating of Din’s heart underneath your ear.

A soft knock at the outside of Din’s room is what draws your attention away from your feelings. You lift your head as you watch the curtain swish aside, revealing Cabur’s figure when he steps inside. His helmet tilts at the sight of your shared devastation.

“Me’bana, ner ad?” Cabur asks Din—using the same words you’d first heard him speak what feels like so long ago. What happened, my child?

You look up at Din, expecting him to provide an explanation as he always does with Cabur and seek advice. Instead, you watch as he begins to crumble, the strong resolve he’s built up for you breaking down as he closes his eyes and shakes his head with trembling lips. You turn back to Cabur to see him approaching Din, causing you to move to Din’s side as you clutch on to one of his arms. Cabur presses a gentle hand upon the back of Din’s head and presses his helmet to his forehead, letting his adopted son grieve as he provides silent comfort.

As much as the scene hurts your heart, part of seeing it also makes you feel at ease. Seeing Cabur be there for Din—even if it’s just with actions, not words—gives you a fulfillment you didn’t know you needed. Your hand slides down Din’s arm to meet his as you give it a squeeze. He returns the gesture as you watch the wrinkle in his brow tighten. After a few deep breaths and some silent tears, Din reopens his eyes, causing Cabur to stand back to his full height as he moves his gloved hand from Din’s head to his shoulder. You give Din’s hand another squeeze of support as you watch him struggle to tell Cabur what’s happened.

“Ner cyare enteyo ba'slanar,” Din tells his mentor in a hoarse voice. My beloved must leave.

Cabur remains calm as ever as he responds. “Vaii?” Where?

Din looks at you for reassurance. You nod and manage to offer a small smile of encouragement. “The Imperial Academy.” He switches to Basic and keeps his voice low. “Their parents are forcing them there.”

Cabur’s helmet tilts, though it’s a menacing motion rather than a comforting one. “Force them how?”

You bring yourself closer to Din’s side as he continues to answer for you. “By threatening to turn us over to the Empire if they don’t go.”

Cabur’s fists tighten at his sides as his helmet looks to the side. The evident sign of his distress causes you to find your voice. “I would never let that happen to the covert, cabur,” you assure him. Din gives your hand a squeeze of reassurance. “I’ll go to keep you all safe.”

The Mandalorian looks at you with what you can tell is sympathy, even through his helmet. “You shouldn’t have to.” The way he says the words reminds you of Din’s protectiveness, which you have no doubt comes from his mentor.

Your gaze shifts to Din’s, who’s already looking at you with a bittersweet mixture of pride, affection, and grief. “This is the Way,” you insist with a small smile.

Din returns the smile, though you look away from him when you hear Cabur’s footsteps making their way towards you. The Mandalorian remains gentle as he reaches a gloved hand, allowing you to place your free hand in his. He uses both his gloved hands to give yours a soft squeeze before he speaks. “You are as honorable as any Mandalorian could ever come, sar’ika.” He nods. “Regardless of how this works out, you will always have a home with us.”

Your eyes begin to water again, but this time, it’s with joy at the family you’ve found here in the tunnels of Scespa. “Thank you, cabur.” Din gives your hand another squeeze as he recognizes the emotions you’re experiencing. “That means more to me than I can say.”

Cabur nods again, this time leaning close to repeat the same Keldabe kiss gesture he had shared with Din before. You close your eyes for a moment to absorb the touch, smiling with gratitude as Cabur steps away and faces Din. “Meh liniba ni, shi rejorhaa'i ni.” If you need me, just tell me.

Din nods, allowing Cabur to dismiss himself as you take a deep breath. You turn to face Din again, meeting his eyes that are full of all the same defeat as your own. You somehow gain the strength to speak in a quiet voice. “What do we do, Din?”

With a deep breath of his own, Din shakes his head at you. “I… I don’t know, ner kar’ta.” He eases you against him again, causing you to hold on to each other as if it’ll somehow solve everything. “I don’t know.”

Though you’re afraid for what the inevitable future soon holds, you feel comforted in this moment you spend in Din’s arms, certain of the fact that no matter what happens you’ll always have a safe place in this galaxy—and that’s wherever you can be with Din.

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breakable heaven tag list: @a-djarin @mickeymouse-moshpit @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @eclipsedplanet @lovelydjarin @rosiefridayrogersunday @nerdypinupcrystal @zukoyonce @mermaidbrina @elizabethren @stardustandkyber @stardustmagetheboss @dxnxdjarxn @prettyboyskywalker-blog @orneryscandalousevil @yikesdameron @captswilson @magicrowiswritingstuff @myheart-pedro @sarahjkl82-blog @pedritobalmando @bewitchedbodyandsol

mandalorian tag list: @chibi-liz05 @glitteryoungho @blackcupidangel @dindjarinenthousiast @ewan-my-sunshine @vintervittrannerd @galaxy-lara @beefcakebarnes @princess-yuna @lovelydjarin @madisonkristina @darylas @thevoiceinyourheadx @grogudjarin-is-my-son @lanie103 @elizabethren @stardustandkyber @princess76179 @chibi-yuki @milkxxkookies @engie115 @captainparadisemary @h1de-s0urce @seventhskycorps @roseallisonparker @shadow-shy @spideysimpossiblegirl @cyaredindjarin @dream-visual-51 @recklessworry @notagamersdey

star wars characters tag list: @nerd-without-a-cause @vernon-dursley @rintheemolion @babyyodaandmando @captswilson @engie115 @aerinkebiinkads @hyperspace-spicedreams @princessxkenobi @recklessworry @lightning-wolffe @badbatch-simp24

#sorry it's been ten years and sorry it hurts HAHAHA #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #breakable heaven #dindjarindiaries

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

Text

Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters.

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link) I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon.

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it.

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone.

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms.

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe.

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit.

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself.

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door.

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was.

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster.

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself.

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted.

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps.

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders.

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself.

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left.

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated.

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship.

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons.

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it.

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone.

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world.

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places.

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about.

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night.

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin.

Stars above, get a grip, girl.

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate.

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?”

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.”

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...”

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?”

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning.

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day.

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair.

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end.

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts.

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest.

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour.

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long.

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest.

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged.

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour.

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him.

You’d arrived at the planet.

It was hot.

Beyond hot.

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm.

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you.

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights.

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open.

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up.

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under.

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist.

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine.

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job.

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle.

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers.

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..”

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting.

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t.

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening.

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you.

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them.

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure.

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon.

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?”

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words.

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.”

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still.

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly.

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him.

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment.

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart.

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into.

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you.

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead.

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor.

He had taken off his gloves.

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare.

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered.

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady.

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them.

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length.

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair.

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks.

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right.

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece.

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees.

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor.

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine.

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest.

He was touching you.

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings.

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot.

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn.

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had.

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again.

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand.

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there.

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something.

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him.

Fuck.

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans.

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching.

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation.

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real.

This didn’t happen between you both.

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful.

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden.

And it was tearing you apart.

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head.

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch.

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands.

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life.

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him.

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did?

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did.

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone.

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot.

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders.

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you.

Something had changed.

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower.

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning.

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made.

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you.

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name.

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you.

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things.

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway.

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep.

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say. Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine.

Normal.

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it.

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it.

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?”

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches.

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine.

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant.

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something.

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru.

Mando was ignoring you.

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was.

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words.

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other.

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise.

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours.

Then he’d just gone.

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry.

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him.

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that.

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness.

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere.

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber.

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters.

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention.

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up.

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point.

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little.

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere.

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him.

Now or never.

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls.

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch.

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly.

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist.

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going.

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?”

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?”

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you.

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that.

They already knew?

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking.

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this.

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping.��

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you.

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long.

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing.

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.”

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here.

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you.

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand.

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest.

“Hey… look at me..”

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality.

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better.

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart.

And his.

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax.

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest.

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside.

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits.

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was.

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew.

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye.

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes.

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando.

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet.

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it.

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..”

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…”

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand.

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine.

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing.

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round.

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it.

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere.

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town.

You’d be okay… right?

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin blurb #grogu #the force #star wars #rogue

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cora-vizsla · 3 years

Text

Cabur Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: Talk of strict parents. Swearing. Drinking alcohol. Talk of sex. Smut. Dominant/submissive undertones. Unprotected sex and talk of how reckless that is because you should always use protection. Just a tiny bit of fluff.

AN: I start classes on Monday so I wanted to get out as much as possible. It’s a long chapter but a lot also happens in it. If I missed any tags please let me know!

You helped Din carry everything inside and set him up in your room. He had tried to argue but with him having an ad’ika you felt like he needed the privacy. Once everything was sat down you saw large ears poke out from his bag and your smile was almost painful.

“Who is this?”

He looked down and sighed, nodding at the small creature. It reached for you and you picked it up and it cooed loudly. You giggled and both men tilted their head to the side as if asking you what was wrong with you. It reached its small hand out and touched your helmet.

“What is its name?”

“I’m not sure what his name is.”

“He was your bounty?”

“Yes. Now I’ve been tasked to find his people.”

“What happens if you can’t find them?”

“Then we are a clan of two.”

You held the small creature to your chest and looked down into his big black eyes. He was cute, that was for sure.

“Does he need to eat? What does he eat?”

“Frogs. Anything he can get ahold of.”

Paz barked out a laugh and Din tensed. You brought him over to the kitchen area and started pointing at things. He finally reached out for a can of fish, so you opened it for him. It smelled but he seemed thrilled with it.

“There is a stream close to here. I can go to the village and get you fresh fish. How does that sound?”

He cooed at you and you rest your forehead on his. He shut his eyes and cuddled into you. You ignored the two other Mandalorians in the house and focused on Dins ad’ika.

“He likes you.”

“I like him!”

You glanced up at the two and they were staring at you.

“Why don’t you two go out on the porch. You can take your helmets off. The villagers won’t come near when it’s getting close to dark. I’ll cook and watch the ad’ika.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Din. He is safe with me.”

“I know he is. He can just.. be a handful.”

“He’s my buddy, right sweetheart?”

His face lit up and he touched your helmet again. Din sighed and walked outside. Paz shut the door and looked at you.

“I got the impression you were going to talk to me.”

“I always talk to you, Paz.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We can talk later, okay? Go with your brother. I need space for a little while.”

He nodded and went outside, shutting the door behind him just a little too rough. You set the child on the counter and clapped.

“Alright, kiddo. What do we want for dinner?”

You slipped your gloves off and started to dig through the supplies. You sighed realizing you didn’t have as much as you wish you had. Suddenly a gentle touch skimmed across your hand and you looked down to see the child shutting his eyes and touching you. The image of soup came to mind and the flashes of Din ordering soup for him often. Another image of Din sipping soup under his helmet in a way that the child couldn’t see his face. The child wondered what his savior looked like. You gasped and he moved his hand, looking up at you.

“You use the force, don’t you little one.”

He smiled at you with his sharp little teeth.

“I can make soup, ad’ika. Tomorrow I’ll get you fresh fish to eat, yeah?”

He giggled and you got to working on a fresh batch of soup.

As soon as it was done, you dished out a bowl for the child. He giggled and it warmed your heart that he liked what you did for him. You dished out two more bowls and knocked at the door asking if it was safe to come out. You heard Paz say yes so you opened the door holding the two bowls. They took it from you and Din snorted.

“How did you know the kid likes soup.”

“He told me.”

Din whipped towards you.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell me he’s a force user.”

“What do you know of force users?”

“They have exceptional powers. He used his to tell me how you always order him soup. He wonders what you look like. If he’s your ad’ika why don’t you show your face?”

“I’m.. I’m not his biur. Not yet.”

“Tell him that, though it may break his heart. He thinks the world of you, Din. I’ll go back inside so you two can eat. Sorry it isn’t much. I’ll get more supplies tomorrow.”

When you turned to go back in, Paz grabbed your arm stopping you.

“Thank you.”

You nodded and walked inside, shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. The child was looking at you and you walked over, seeing he needed more. You sipped at your own the way he had shown you Din did.

“We don’t take our helmets off unless it’s with our children or our spouse.”

He reached his hand out, so you let him touch your bare skin. He showed you Din again, and you could tell he questioned what you had just told him.

“He is tasked to find your people but if he can’t find them you won’t be going anywhere. He will always take care of you even if you aren’t sure what’s going on right now. He won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

He smiled again and you pat the top of his head. You hoped that Din would figure it out. No child deserved to feel so alone.

---

You cleaned up until the child started to yawn. You scooped him up and walked around, softly singing to him. He fell asleep quickly and you smiled at how precious he looked. After a while you put him down on your bed so he would be in there when Din was ready to sleep. When you walked out both men were coming inside.

“He’s asleep. He ended up really sleepy, so I walked around with him until he fell asleep.”

“Thank you, vod’ika. Sometimes he has a hard time falling asleep.”

“It was nothing, Din. I’m happy to help.”

“Why don’t you tell Din about the little girl in town that needs a biur.”

Din looked at Paz then back at you. You sighed loudly and put your hand on your hip, glaring at the larger man.

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“She has no family?”

“No, she doesn’t. She really likes your vod’ika and hops from home to home to have somewhere to sleep. The village calls this one here cabur and I was yelled at by a small one for speaking ill of her. The little one in question is enamored with her cabur.”

“Vod’ika, why haven’t you taken her in?”

“We aren’t talking about this. None of us. Drop it. There wasn’t even a need to bring it up.”

Din tilt his head to the side, and you could have smacked Paz you were so mad.

“You won’t listen to me. Maybe you’ll listen to Din.”

“Paz, you are the most insufferable pain in the ass I have ever met!”

“And you’re the most bullheaded stubborn sheb I’ve ever met!”

“Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.”

Paz barked out a laugh and stepped forward. You tensed your body, hands balled into fists as you stared at him. Din looked between both of you and crossed his arms.

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

You both yelled nothing, but it was hard to miss the difference in your inflection. You were furious and wanted Din to know that there was absolutely nothing to talk about. Paz sounded defeated and frustrated that there was nothing going on.

“I might believe that if I didn’t walk up to you on his lap.”

You tossed your hands in the air and let them slap at your legs when they dropped.

“Of course, that’s when you would walk up. You didn’t see all the times I yelled at him or told him off. You weren’t even here to see me shoot him. But yes, you walk up when he pulls me against my will against him. Wonderful!”

“You shot him?”

“Against your will?!”

They both spoke at the same time and you were the one to laugh that time. You slipped your gloves back on and went to the door. As soon as you opened it Paz slapped his hand on it, effectively stopping you from leaving when it slammed shut.

“I will break this fucking door Paz and then you can tell the village why we need a new one. Let me out.”

“You aren’t running away! This is exactly what I was talking about before. Anytime things get hard or slightly uncomfortable you run away.”

“Do you think maybe I’m running from you?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Every time I’ve had to run it has been your fault. Perhaps you should be more worried about your actions that cause me to do this than me doing it.”

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you before pushing your back against the door. You glared up at him and saw Din start to walk forward but he stopped when you didn’t try to fight back.

“I thought we were past this, ad’ika. I thought we were past you trying to run from me when all I have done is try to help you since the moment I got here. Do you know how lucky you are to still be breathing? No one just shoots me and lives. No one yells at me and treats me poorly and gets to live. I’ve killed for far less.”

“Then just go ahead and do it! Go back to the Armorer and tell her that you found me dead.”

“I’d need your beskar, you stupid girl.”

“Over my dead fucking body are you taking this beskar off me.”

“That was just my point! Stars you are obstinate for no reason! If you put half of this fire into getting what you want instead of hiding, you’d have the entire galaxy!”

“I AM NOT FUCKING HIDING YOU GIANT FUCKING OAF!”

Din cackled at that and it broke the concentration between the two of you. Paz stepped back and let go of the door.

“If you aren’t hiding, then talk. Go ahead and run out the door though. I know you’re going to. It’s what you do. You’re no verd. Warriors don’t run from their problems.”

Your entire body was shaking you were so angry. You did want to bolt. You wanted to head out the door and find an entirely new planet to be on away from everyone you knew, including Din. He was supposed to come to you to help you deal with Paz, not question you.

You stomped over to the counter where you kept your alcohol. You didn’t drink often but you had it just in case, more so for wounds than anything else. It was strong and you liked being on your toes. However, this situation was entirely different. You yanked your helmet off and slammed it on the counter, your back towards the two men.

“What are you doing?”

Paz sounded unsure and you could feel Din shifting his weight like he did when he was uncomfortable. You grabbed the bottle and took a huge swig, wincing when it burned your throat. You leaned forward, both hands on the counter and sighed.

“If I’m going to deal with this I’m going to need to be at least buzzed. You’re much to vexing to deal with sober and since your brother has decided to do the absolute opposite of what I was hoping he would do, this is how I’m going to deal.”

You took another swig and pulled your helmet back on, not caring that your hair was hanging below your helmet for once. You turned around and motioned for the living space. It was going to be a long night.

---

Paz filled Din in on everything that had happened in the last year. You chimed in to correct or add to what he was saying. Din listened intently glancing at you when it came up you had been protecting everyone.

“So, you have been living by the creed the entire time.”

“Yes. No one has seen my face. The village doesn’t even know my name.”

“Vod’ika, why are you being so hard on yourself then. Is it your biur?”

You shrugged.

“I think they meant well. I do. It’s just that it.. You know the stipulation when they took me in.”

“I do.”

“What?”

You cursed yourself. Drinking always made you chatty and even though you knew that was what you needed to do, part of you forgot that Paz would be finding things out you had hidden from him before.

“I told you before that the creed saved me.”

“Right, and I said that you didn’t take the creed until years later.”

“You aren’t wrong. The problem is I had to promise to take the creed long before that. Mandalorians are given the choice to take the vow and when they want to. For my biur to take me in, I had to promise that I would train so I was worthy to wear the beskar. Without this metal, without this helmet, I would be dead on the street.”

“So those were your choices? Die or become one of us? Who let this happen? Does the Armorer know about this?”

The more questions Paz asked the angrier he became. It made you tense but it almost felt nice that he knew why you felt the way you did.

“She does. That’s why I was asked to look out for her. They never did anything that could warrant them being sent away, but it was a fine line. There are extremists everywhere in every group, but the Armorer wanted this one to be safe.”

“She wanted me to have a chance. I was forced to take this creed, but it doesn’t change how important it is to me. I swore to be different than them. It’s why I’m so strong in my beliefs, Paz. I need to do things this way, so I don’t end up like them.”

“Then why be so upset about the helmet? Your biur would have disowned you but if you had just gone to the Armorer she would have understood. The rest of us would have understood.”

“I broke the creed. I’ve broken what it means to me. Just because my beliefs on this are different than yours doesn’t make them invalid. I can’t rely on everyone just forgiving the broken creed. I won’t.”

“And you won’t marry outside of love because you don’t want to be like them too?”

You nodded and pulled your legs up, so you were more or less curled up on the couch. Din reached over and put his hand on your knee. He had always been the one to console you even though it wasn’t very conventional. That was how you learned to fight. You channeled all your pain and frustration into fighting.

“Go get some sleep, Din. I have a feeling the kid will be up soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind giving up your room?”

“Yes. I have no problem sleeping on the couch.”

He stood and stretched, groaning at the movements.

“Getting old, Din.”

“Yeah, shut up.”

You laughed and said goodnight as he walked back into the room. Before you could stand up to get a blanket, Paz was handing one to you. You thanked him quietly and started pulling your beskar off, stacking it neatly by the couch. You laid down on your side once you were done and Paz sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch so he was close to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of that?”

“It’s not something I like talking about.”

“It doesn’t change that you run from everything.”

“I know it doesn’t. I at least have a reason for it.”

He tilted his head back, so it was resting on your thigh. You felt strange but the feeling wasn’t horrible. His breathing changed a few times like he was going to talk but decided not to.

“Were you actually unwilling?”

“What?”

“When I pulled you on me. Were you really unwilling? I don’t want to upset you.”

“I.. no. It wasn’t unwilling. I would have said something. I was just mad and embarrassed that of all times that was when Din showed up.

He fell silent again and with how steady his breathing was, you almost thought he fell asleep.

“Have you been like that before with someone?”

“Sat on someone’s lap?”

He turned his head to face you and you barked out a laugh.

“Oh! Yes. Yes, I’ve had sex before, if that’s what you’re asking. The creed says nothing about sex.”

“And they never saw your face?”

“You’re the only one who has seen my face since I’ve taken the creed.”

“So, you just had sex with your helmet on?”

You laughed and shrugged.

“It’s the only part of the beskar that has to stay on. You know that. You’re saying you’ve never had sex?”

“Of course, I’ve had sex! What kind of question is that?”

“Oh, so you can question me, but I can’t question you?”

He huffed and rolled his head back, so he was facing forward.

“I guess that’s fair. You know, you’re being pretty bold considering I’m the one who has been drinking.”

“Bold? No. Being bold would be telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled expecting him to join in with you but instead he just turned to look at you fully.

“I know we fight something fierce. I know that I’m not the most patient person in the galaxy. I do respect you. I think even more than I did before and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Thank you, Paz.”

“You’re nothing like your biur. I understand not wanting to be like them. You just can’t not live because you’re afraid you may end up like them.”

“I’m scared to live. I’m scared to let anyone close. Not that I’ll admit it again once I’m sober.”

He rumbled out a laugh and you smiled at the sound.

“I hope you can begin to trust me.”

“I do trust you Paz. I just know it’s not actually me that you want. You just want the tribe back.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

“Of course. What use would you have for me? You need a woman that will stay home and give you warriors. Someone to come home to. Marrying me out of obligation would do nothing but hinder you. You’re already a warrior. No use for ‘nother.”

“Do I look like the type of man that would come home anywhere? This is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere.”

“I ‘dunno Paz. Look pretty domestic to me.”

He laughed and pulled the blanket up on you, hearing how tired you are by the sound of your voice.

“Get some sleep, cabur’ika.”

“Will you leave with Din?”

“What? Of course not. Din has his own journey. Mine is right here.”

You laughed and rolled away from him. You were so tired that you didn’t even fight him when he turned shut the light off and slipped your helmet off your head. You mumbled out a thank you and giggled when you heard him stumble into his room.

“G’night Paz.”

“Goodnight, cabur.”

---

You stood on the porch watching the sunrise the next morning. You could still hear Paz snoring and as annoying as it was, you were getting used to the sound. When you heard the door open, Din walked out holding the small child.

“Good morning”

“Morning.”

“He wake you up early?”

He grumbled and handed the kid to you. You smiled and scratched the top of his head, smiling when he cooed at you.

“How long are you staying?”

“Depends on if you and Paz are going to kill each other.”

You sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall. Din joined you, keeping one knee bent so he could rest his arm on it.

“I’m not going to kill him.”

“Well then you’re going to need to have sex with him. One or the other.”

You laughed and smacked his arm.

“Din!”

“I’m serious. The two of you need to get some energy out and it’s either going to be fucking or killing. I’ve known both of you for a long time. Never seen either of you at anyone’s throat like this.”

“He wants me to marry him.”

“I know you have your own ideas for marriage, but in our tribe, you know it’s about convenience and strength. Who can you be compatible with to make sure the tribe lives on?”

“I hear what you’re saying.”

“You’re letting your pride keep you from the tribe. We need you. Paz needs you. The Armorer isn’t on Navarro anymore. I’m not sure where she is or where they all moved to but there aren’t many people left. Having one more person would be a huge deal.”

“So, I just enter into the marriage like a negotiation?”

He shrugged.

“Why not? Aren’t most marriages like that? Not that I’m well versed in that but it’s all a negotiation. Decide what you both can and can’t live with and meet in the middle. As much as he pushes my buttons, he isn’t a bad man.”

You sighed and nodded.

“I know he isn’t. I just don’t want him to regret it later.”

“That sounds like his decision to make. Not yours.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

You tilt your head and laughed, picking up on his playful mood.

“Thank you, Din.”

“You’re welcome, vod’ika. You two will figure it out. Neither of you have anywhere else to be. May as well be together instead of you both being alone.”

“What about you?”

“I have the kid.”

“And what happens if you find his family?”

“Then I’ll be showing up on your doorsteps. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to doing things on my own as a bounty hunter.”

“That mean you’re leaving soon?”

“I need to. I have a lot to do to find the Jedi. It seems like every time I find something out, I need to do five different highly dangerous things to find out something else.”

You laughed and rest your head on his shoulder. He squeezed your leg playfully before sighing at the child.

“You ready to go, kid?”

He looked up at you and touched your hand. You slipped the glove off, letting him connect with you again. He showed you his time with you and you felt how comfortable and safe he felt. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his.

“You will always be welcome here, ad’ika. Take care of Din for me, yeah? He won’t ever admit it, but he needs you just as much as you need him.”

Din sighed next to you but didn’t correct your statement. You handed the child over to Din and stood when he did.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Paz?”

“I already told him I’d be gone by the time he woke up. Besides, I’ll see you two again. You know how to get ahold of me.”

“I do.”

“Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“Always, Din. I mean that. If you ever need anything just call. The blue giant and I will be there.”

He put his forehead to yours again and you shut your eyes, not wanting to cry. As much as you knew he needed to go, you were going to miss him terribly.

“This is the way.”

He stepped away and slung his bag over his back, walking into the woods and out of sight. You looked back towards the cabin and sighed, knowing there was a huge talk that needed to happen between you and Paz. You hoped desperately that both of you could keep calm enough to come to an understanding.

---

Paz finally came out of his room and you motioned for him to sit next to you. He instead sat in front of you by the wall and you sighed.

“You’re so stubborn.”

“We know this. Din leave?”

“Yeah. He left this morning. He said you already knew he was leaving.”

“I did. We don’t really do the goodbye thing.”

“I let him know that if he needed help from us to just comm me.”

He snorted and crossed his arms.

“Volunteering me now?”

“Well you seem to be sticking by my side so yeah.”

“Where else would I go? Not like I have a home to go to.”

You crossed your arms and tensed up.

“Is that how you feel? We just built you an entire room, Paz. You don’t see this as your home?”

“It’s not sustainable. We’re safe for now but soon enough they will come looking for us. There are a lot of people who want to wipe out the Mandalorians.”

“Why are you being so hostile today?”

“I’m not being hostile.”

He basically snapped at you, so you narrowed your eyes. When you tilt your head to the side he scoffed and looked away.

“Could have fooled me.”

You got up to head to the kitchen and heard him stand, following you.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

You turned and he was directly in front of you. You jumped slightly and he wrapped his hands around your biceps. You already had your armor on, but he easily wrapped his large hands around you.

“You keep running.”

“Paz, I’m going to cook food. Aren’t you hungry?”

“What?”

You laughed and shook your head slightly.

“I was going to go into town today to get fish for Din’s ad’ika but since they’re gone, I wanted to make something to eat and figure out what we need. I still have some of the soup or I can make something new.”

“I.. you don’t need to cook anything new. The soup was good.”

You started heating the food up while he stood leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed as he was watching you.

“I know that when you came around, we were already pretty secluded, but our warriors were never meant to fight alone. We used to have vast armies, and everyone had their role. When the purge happened is when we had to learn to fight on our own. We held onto the tribe mentality as much as possible, but I always hated how we taught the young they were on their own.”

You listened to him, leaning back on the counter. As much as you normally would say something sarcastic, hearing Paz speak about the culture was always something you enjoyed. It also helped that he wasn’t talking down to you.

“When I could be around to teach the children, I made sure that they knew we were important to each other. I think being out on my own made me forget that for a long time. Being utterly alone makes you think of things differently, even if that means it isn’t always right.”

“I can agree with that. When you’re the only person you need to look out for it becomes a little easier. I don’t.. I don’t usually care so much about myself. What has kept me going is the obligation to the village here and making sure I could send back to the tribe whenever possible.”

You dished out the now warm soup and moved to the living area, sitting down on the couch. Paz sat down on the chair near the kitchen and you heard his helmet set down on the counter. You took your own off and sat it next to you. You were surprised at how comfortable it was being in the house with him, even if you couldn’t really look at him.

“When I first came here, I refused any comforts. I slept on the ground in a side alley in the village. It made the village very upset to know I wasn’t warm and safe. They didn’t understand that it doesn’t really matter where we sleep; we’re just happy to be actually sleeping.”

Paz chuckled and you smiled.

“They offered me all the best houses there, but it didn’t feel right taking from them. They finally insisted I live here and furnished the entire thing. I didn’t really have any credits to offer them, but I couldn’t just take without payment. That was how we decided on our agreement. I could help them, and they could help me. It makes them feel good when I’m taken care of.”

“And you feel better know that you’re keeping them safe.”

You hummed in agreement and drank some of the soup, smiling at the memory of the small child enjoying it so much.

“Running may have been what brought me here, but it isn’t what kept me in one place. I am comfortable but I just wanted to feel like I was taking care of someone like I would have been taking care of the tribe.”

“You have a very kind heart, cabur. I understand fearing being like your biur but you are nothing like them.”

“Thank you. It makes me feel better hearing that. I know that they were extreme and stricter than most. I just want to live by the creed without losing who I am at the core.”

“You sound more at peace today.”

“I guess so. Din and I chatted before he left. Plus talking to both of you last night helped too. I’ve been… stubborn.”

You heard him slip his helmet on, so you did the same. He sat down next to you on the couch, being physically close to you for once. You turned so you had your legs crossed and could face him fully. He made the couch look so little but there was more than enough room for you to sit any way you wanted.

“I did always tell myself that I would only marry for love. However, your point that I don’t let anyone close to me was valid. I can’t love someone if I don’t let myself near anyone.”

“Did Din tell you that, so you finally believed it?”

“No. I knew when you said it that you were right. I’m not very good at admitting that.”

“Neither am I.”

You laughed and nodded.

“There aren’t many of us left and those that are happen to be scattered across the galaxy. I am lucky to still have two tribesmen close to me.”

“We are lucky to have that. You aren’t the only one.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’ve been horrible towards you for saving my life and it was wrong of me. I don’t know if I would have done the same thing for you then, but I would now. I’m sure you know that I’m not in love with you, but I do have tremendous respect for you. I know there are things we would need to talk and work out, but if you truly want me to be your riduur, I will accept. This is bigger than just the two of us. Our tribe needs both of us”

He turned and put his hand on your knee. His hand felt warm even with all the armor and you tentatively put your hand on top of his. He squeezed your fingers in response.

“What do you need from me?”

“I don’t expect us to change. I don’t want us to feel like we need to act differently.”

“What of ad’ike? Do you still want children?”

“Yes, eventually. There are plenty of children who need biur. When we are both ready and feel like it’s time, we can discuss it.”

You expect him to bring up the small girl in the village, but he didn’t.

“I also want you to promise me that you will not regret this. If you.. meet someone else.. and want to promise yourself to them, then you need to do it. I will not come in the way of your happiness. Not any more than I already have.”

“You would absolve it for me to be with someone else?”

“Yes.”

“You know that means you likely would never find another within the tribe.”

“I know, Paz. You did save my life and now you want to marry me to so I can go back to our family when the time comes. I at least owe you a way out.”

He reached over and pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on his lap. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other rested on your leg.

“I know I’ve made mistakes and I’ve let you down. I’ve hurt you more than any enemy could and for that I am sorry. I know you think in your head that I am only doing this because of the tribe but that isn’t true. I want us to start over. I will do whatever it takes. We can figure all this out together. We both know what is at stake and I’ve let you down before, but I am so thankful for this chance. You said you don’t want us to change, but cyare you have already changed me so much.”

You felt your chest tighten at his admission. You desperately wanted to say something, but you were at an absolute loss of words.

“You deserve so much better than what you’ve gone through in your life. You deserve so much better than me.”

“No. No you’re a good man. I don’t know that I can physically not give you shit every day but don’t think for a second that I think less of you.”

He chuckled and held you tighter.

“I wish you could see yourself for the warrior you are. Your strength is so much more than could be put in words. I’m glad you opened up to me last night. I know it hurts to do that.”

“It does.”

“I need to see all of it though. Just like you need to see every side of me. Guess it’s a good thing you’ve already seen me being a total asshole.”

You laughed and felt some of the tension fall from your shoulders.

“I just feel you’re settling because you feel guilty about my broken creed.”

“It’s much more than that to me now. I would be the luckiest Mandalorian in the galaxy to have a riduur as strong and resilient as you. Someone to raise warriors with together. Between your smarts and my brute strength, they would be unstoppable.”

He placed his hand on the side of your helmet and turned your face towards his.

“Whenever you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”

---

Your trip into town was fairly uneventful. You were able to tell Paz more about the village and the history you had learned from the elders. He listened intently which made you incredibly happy.

Something had shifted between the two of you. His entire attention was on you and his movements synced with yours. You tried to remember if he had always gently touched your back when you stopped to look at something. Did he always turn towards you so fully when you spoke?

You couldn’t figure out if he was acting different or if it was you. It was entirely possible that you were finally letting that wall down around him. You noticed things that would keep you alive but social interactions weren’t something you looked at closely.

It wasn’t that you disliked what he was doing. It was just different.

“The market should be opened by now. There isn’t usually a lot left so I don’t feel as bad taking what no one else wanted.”

“They get more supplies tomorrow?”

You nodded and felt your face heating up. He was overwhelming but you absolutely decided you liked this side of Paz. The two of you continued through the village and made it to the market. You worker smiled at both of you and you didn’t miss the way she looked at Paz’s hand resting on your lower back. She gave you a huge smile and wished you both a good day.

“They’re all so friendly here.”

“Yeah, they are. It’s nice to not hide who we are. They like the fact that we’re Mandalorians.”

“Nothing like Navarro.”

“Which is why I like it here.”

You walked back to the cabin, both carrying the food. You put things away and started a meal, having finished off the soup earlier that day. Paz sat in the kitchen chair watching you cook and hum to yourself.

“Is there something you want to talk about? I don’t think you’ve looked at me this much in my entire life.”

“I think you need to bring Lahta here.”

“Paz.. I don’t want this life for her.”

“It would be her choice. Your circumstances were different. That isn’t the norm. We bring foundlings home and give them a chance regardless of what they choose.”

“I’ve never seen someone not take it.”

“I don’t know many that haven’t. It is still a choice.”

“Then they’re cast aside if they don’t want to?”

“No. They live with us as part of the tribe. You don’t remember people being around with no helmets on?”

“My biur kept me away from most. Can we.. can we talk about this later? I’m a bit overwhelmed if I’m being honest. We’ve talked about a lot today.”

He sighed but nodded.

“Okay. We will talk again though.”

You nodded and finished cooking. You did want to discuss bring the girl home. You had thought about her often and it kicked up once you found out she had no family. It was just too much to process. You sat the plate down in front of him.

“When.. when do you want to.. share vows?”

You winced at how meek you sounded.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“How do I know I’m ready.”

“I’m not sure. You will though. We will both know.”

You grabbed your food and walked into the living area again. Slipping your helmet off, you started eating enjoying eating a hot meal. You thought about how soon you could actually eat with Paz and it did warm your heart.

“You looked beautiful when you were dying.”

You choked on your drink and started coughing.

“What!?”

“No.. I.. fuck.. When I saw your face. You were beautiful.”

“Paz, there were a thousand different ways you could have said that better.”

You burst into laughter and you heard him grumble.

“I mean it. I didn’t mean to put my foot in my mouth, but I did mean it when I said you’re beautiful.”

“I do have to say that when I thought of my future husband calling me beautiful, it didn’t sound like that.”

“Maker kill me now.”

“No. Not now.”

“When then?”

“I told you. Once you go lay down by the wood line. I’m not dragging your ass.”

You burst out laughing when you heard him slam his helmet on, so you did the same. He stalked over to you, looming over you still sitting. You desperately tried to stop laughing but you failed miserably.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I think I’m fucking hilarious, actually.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? Did you not hear me? Is your hearing going, old ma-“

You were cut off when he abruptly grabbed you by your chest armor. He lifted you up like you were absolutely nothing and spun so he was pressing your back against the wall. He moved himself forward, pressing his body against yours. You worked hard to control your breathing, but he must have noticed. The dark chuckle that came from deep in his chest sent a shiver down your spine.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?”

You knew damn well if you spoke at that moment your voice would have cracked, so you shook your head instead.

“That’s what I thought, little one. You’re such a brat sometimes, you know.”

“I may have noticed.”

He chuckled again and pushed one of his legs between yours, holding you up more efficiently. You stifled a small gasp but again he chuckled at your reactions.

“I think you like getting a rise out of me, cyare.”

“Perhaps you’re just easily provoked.”

He pressed his leg forward more and you gasped. Your hands shot to his shoulders and you gripped the straps to his armor. He moved his hands to your hips and gripped them hard.

“I’ve thought about this, you know. I’ve wondered what little noises you would let slip through your lips when I put my hands on you. I’ve thought about how much you would like me dominating you. Tell me, cabur’ika, is this the reaction you were hoping for?”

“Stars you and cocky.”

“Tell me to stop then.”

“Why would I do that?”

He growled out a laugh and lifted you more so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He immediately turned and head to his room, kicking the door shut behind you.

“Holy shit its dark in here.”

You hadn’t even thought of putting a window in, more concerned with having a space for him. He pinned you back against the wall, using his body to keep you up when his hands moved up and took his helmet off. You inhaled sharply through your nose but there was absolutely no seeing anything even as your eyes adjusted to the dark.

“It has its uses.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Good. Then we aren’t breaking the rules.”

“Pretty fine line.”

He chuckled and moved his hands to your helmet. You tensed slightly but nodded, helping him remove it.

“Your bucket is so light.”

“Well in comparison to yours all my armor is light I’m sure.”

He set your helmet down carefully next to his on the dresser and placed his hands gently on each side of your face. Your breath was shaky as you moved your hands up to do the same to him. You smiled when you felt his soft skin and the facial hair covering the lower half of his face. You traced your thumb across his bottom lip and felt the sigh slip through.

“So, this is why you asked if I had sex with my helmet on. You figured out a loophole.”

“Surprised someone as smart as you didn’t think of it.”

“Maybe I just don’t like cheating the system.”

Your voice was playful, and you felt a smile spread across his face.

“Hmm, but if we didn’t cheat the system how would I ever be able to do this?”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his lips at the sensation. You had thought of kissing before, but you never expected it to feel so intimate. You had let others touch your body, that didn’t seem like a big deal to you. His lips pressed against you was hands down the most intimate feeling you had ever experienced.

You were afraid that you would feel inexperienced and naïve, but the way Paz kissed you was everything. He slowly showed you what to do with your mouth in a way that made you hungry. This was nothing like how you learned how to fight; violent and unforgiving. You learned how to press your lips to his in a way that clouded every other sense. The feeling of him against you quickly made you breathless. When he broke away, he pressed his forehead to you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“You have far too many clothes on, mesh’la.”

“I guess you should fix that problem then.”

He chuckled and kissed you quickly before starting to work on your armor. It was shocking to you just how easily he was able to hold you up. He made quick work of your armor and you laughed at the fact that he seemed more proficient than even you were.

“I may have studied your armor so I would know just how to get it off you.”

“How often have you thought of doing this?”

“I’m not sure they make numbers that large.”

You bit your bottom lip and giggled as he unhooked the rest. You went to start on his but he stopped you.

“Please, cyare, let me do this. Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated before letting out a breathy response of okay. He moved to pull your gloves off and then your shirt. Once your skin was bare, he pulled his own gloves off and ran his hands up your sides with a groan.

“You’re so soft. Stars how are you so soft?”

He leaned forward and started peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders while his hands ran roughly up and down your sides. Eventually he wrapped one arm around you and pulled away from the wall, quickly moving to the bed where he set you down on your back. He pulled your pants off you leaving you completely bare below him. You were able to see his outline but with how dark it was it was absolutely impossible to see details beyond that.

“Why is it that I’m the only one with nothing on?”

“Is someone impatient?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and made quick work of his armor. You watched him as you moved further up the bed, getting comfortable. He unceremoniously removed his clothes and tossed them on the floor near his feet. Your heart started to race when he crawled up the bed and grabbed your hips. The surprised gasp that fell from your lips was embarrassing when he yanked you down, so you were directly below him.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now.”

“That would make me an awful liar.”

He kissed you again as you ran your fingertips across his skin. His chest was littered with small scars and bumps from years of fighting. It was a start contrast from the way that he gently kissed you. The man had destroyed and killed for most of his life yet his hands were skilled in the way that they gently worked your flesh in them.

He trailed his kisses down your neck where he suckled the skin, absolutely leaving marks in his wake. You breathlessly moaned at the sensation and he groaned in response.

“Such beautiful noises for me, cyare. Stars this is better than any dream I possibly could have made up.”

He worked his way down, worshiping every inch of your skin that he could get to. When he pulled your pebbled nipple into his mouth you arched your body into his. He gripped your hips roughly and held you in place. Your hands shot to his head where you laced your fingers through his hair. He groaned against your sensitive skin when you gently tugged at his roots.

“Tell me what you want, mesh’la.”

“Oh stars. You. I want you.”

“Hmm, that isn’t very descriptive.”

You huffed in frustration and he chuckled. He slipped off of you, so he was laying at your side. You wined at the loss of contact but quickly silenced yourself when he kissed you deeply. He continued to kiss you as he ran his hand down your body until he was able to slip a single finger between your already soaked folds.

“Maker, cyare, you’re already so wet for me.”

You moaned against his lips and he started working your sensitive clip. He kept kissing you as he worked your body better than you possibly imagined it could be done. When he slid his hand down further and started to slip a single digit in you gasped at the way it stretched you.

“Maker, Paz.”

“Fuck you’re tight.”

He grabbed your hand closest to him and guided it down to his throbbing cock. You gasped again when you felt just how large he was.

“Uhm, how.. how is that even going to fit in me?”

He laughed and continued to push his finger in and out of you. When he pushed a second in you arched your back and moaned loudly.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. Oh stars.”

He continued working you and you wrapped your hand around his shaft. He groaned when you did and picked up the pace that he was using on you slightly. He continued kissing and sucking at your neck as you felt your climax inching towards you. When he started rubbing his thumb against your clit you cried out soon after, hit hard by your orgasm.

“Fuck I need you, cyare. T-tell me to stop.”

“No. Please don’t stop Paz.”

“Come on, mesh’la. Tell me what you want. I need to know. I need to hear it from your pretty mouth. I want to hear you beg for me.”

You whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you, feeling suddenly empty. When he kissed you, you pushed him and climbed over, straddling his waist. When you placed your hands on his chest and sat up, he groaned and gripped your hips hard.

“Why is it me that has to beg? Maybe I want the great Paz Vizla begging for me.”

“Oh, is that what you want? You want me to beg you to fuck me? Beg you to sink that tight pussy down on my cock?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He hummed and pushed you down, making you grind along him. You gasped and grabbed his wrists. He chuckled and used your surprise to flip you both back over. You gasped again when your back hit the bed and he pressed his weight on you. He kissed you deeply, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him further forward.

“Such a needy woman. Just tell me what you want, and you’ll have it. I’ll always do whatever I can to give you everything.”

You wanted to fight against him. You wanted to prolong the game and not give in. You didn’t want to submit; not yet. Something about the way his hands ran over your body and how he pressed into you dissolved any resolve you had to keep your submission at bay.

“I want you, Paz. Please. Show me how much you want me. Let me give you ever piece of me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you again, this time softer and passionately. One hand held the side of your face while the other reached between you. You felt him press against you as he continued to kiss you.

“Relax, mesh’la. It’s just me. You know me. You know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

You moaned against him and he gently pushed into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, so you appreciated the care he was taking. He pushed the entire way in, filling you in a way you never knew possible.

“Haar'chak, you are so tight.”

He braced himself on his forearms that he placed by your head. When he stared moving inside of you, there was no way you were stopping the moans from falling from your lips. Your entire thoughts were consumed with him and everything he was making you feel. You wanted to move your hips to meet his thrusts, but he was just too much. You were too full, and his body had your legs spread too far.

“Stars how I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve dreamt of you split open on my cock moaning for me.”

You cried out at a harder thrust when he hit just the right spot inside of you. Paz groaned and hooked one of your legs up higher. You felt tears start to well in your eyes at just how overwhelmed your body was. He had achieved the impossible by going further inside of you.

“Come on, cyare. Cum for me. Let me see what it feels like.”

He tilted back so he was on his knees, lifting your lower back up so he could continue to pound into you. He moved his thumb to your clit and worked it until you screamed out. When you clamped down on his he growled and moved quicker. You let your head fall back onto the bed as he mercilessly pounded into you.

“Where?”

“Inside. Fuck- implant. I have the implant.”

With three more strong thrusts he came hard inside of you. He stayed deeply seated inside of you until you felt him start to soften and he slipped out. You whimpered at the feeling and he chuckled as he flopped on the bed next to you.

“Fuck, Paz.”

“Already did.”

You laughed out trying to catch your breath.

“I guess now would be a weird time to ask if you have any diseases, right?”

You turned to where you knew he was and laughed again.

“Yeah that talk is usually before sex. But no. I have no diseases. We honestly should have had this entire talk long before now.”

“Oh well. Not a lesson I plan on needing.”

“Oh?”

“Nope.”

“Not planning on fucking anyone else within an inch of their life?”

He barked out a laugh and pulled you, so you were resting on him. You shivered when your sweaty skin started to cool off, so he yanked a blanket over both of you.

“No. You’re going to be my wife, mesh’la. I’m all in with you. Even if you didn’t have the exact body made to fit against mine.”

“Hmm. You sure know how to lay it on thick, Vizla.”

“Oh, I’m just starting. For now though, sleep would be nice.”

You nestled into his chest and sighed. For the first time in a long time your body felt relaxed and comfortable. Before long the sound of his snores filled the room and you smiled against his skin as sleep took you too.

---

Translations Haar'chak: damn it cayre: belovid ad’ika: little one, child vod’ika: little brother/sister cabur: protector/guardian

#paz vizsla #paz x female!reader #paz vizla x reader #paz x reader #the mandalorian #fanfic

150 notes · View notes

mudhornchronicles · 3 years

Text

sanguine | din djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, angst, yodito’s name spoiler, face reveal, sexual references but aren’t toooo explicit

a/n: this is part two for maroon.

i made up a planet because i couldn’t find a planet that wouldn’t be obvious to hiding Mandalorians, ya know? I’ve never written smut before and as much as I wanted to include it, I’d just ruin it BUT I’m learning lol. also, happy new year to everyone! I hope this year brings you joy, health, and happiness. please enjoy and let me know what you think!

masterlist

No matter how long it has been, you are always thrown back to the day you lost everything. Your necklace is a constant reminder of the death of you. No matter if you’re at the market buying the supplies you’re running dangerously low on or if you’re in the midst of stitching up a laceration - your hand always finds its way around the symbol of pain.

The gunfire. The screams. The tears. The loss.

The nightmares are a virus you cannot get rid of with medication. After all these years, the past plagues you even after you have tried your hardest to move on.

When you made it to the planet Alegoria, the emperor, Krusean, took you all as his own people. The warriors who were once faithful to the creed willingly relinquished their armor for civilian clothing in order to conceal their true heritage. You witnessed every brave soul you saw defeat Mandalore’s invaders once upon a time diminish to discomfited individual’s seeking purpose aside from duty. Alegoria gave you the opportunity to become the independent being your father always wanted you to be, but every time you took five steps ahead, the thought of him infiltrated your mind and you retreated into the shell of a person you arrive as.

Because of your skill set you found yourself excel with, Emperor Krusean found it ideal to have you stay in the palace as his assistant. You preferred not living in a home you did not earn, but you agreed to always carrying a commlink. An agreement that you felt safe with. You found yourself comfortable in the presence of the emperor, or Krusean as he liked to be called. He was an older gentleman, nearing his sixties, and he was a man with a heart of gold. You reminded him of his daughter, his army’s lieutenant, who gave her life for her father’s. You both had a connection, and he became your family as you did his.

So much, that he was only person on Alegoria, aside from your own people, who knew about your lost love.

The day was as every other with the exception of the sky being painted in rich reds and pretty pinks – something that happened every three to four months. You knew a sanguine palette awaited tonight’s night sky. Always a beautiful sight.

As you ran your daily errands, you began to note the people of Alegoria, the former Mandalorians to be exact, seemed on edge. You walked up to a few and they came across jumpy. You looked up and you caught sight of three ships and one of them gave you the fear you have not felt in a long time – a tie fighter.

As it appeared to be landing, chaos unfolded.

The screams and tears returned, but the gunfire was absent.

You felt sick. You could not move but were forced by one of the emperor’s guards. They barked out orders to shelter themselves and reminding them of the evacuation plans if needed. The guard escorted you back to the palace in a speeder made specifically for attaching life-boards. They were the evacuation plan.

Once through the palace walls, you ran straight to the emperor. As you ran, you could not help but to attach your hand on your signet and ring adorning your neck. You brought them up to your shaking lips, giving them both a kiss and whispering an apology to whoever was listening. You found the emperor barking orders at his general to secure the city’s perimeter – his people’s safety came first.

He spotted you and ran to you, bringing you into his arms and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. You could not stop shaking as he held you, telling you that everything would be okay. He informed you that the radars did not detect any other ships – just the three crafts and seven life forms. He asked you to go into the safe room underneath the palace while the situation get assessed and you oblige, knowing he must have thousands of thoughts running through his mind.

While you sat underneath the fortress, you thought back to him. You were able to move on from losing Mandalore, but you could never move on from him. You clutched his ring in your hand and let out the tears you had been suppressing for years. You never allowed yourself to vocalize his name, let out cry about him.

“I miss you so much, ner kar’ta. I have never given up on you, but I couldn’t wait around and do nothing.” you kiss his ring and continue to voice your ache. “The people I was with, my love, they aren’t you. They could not make me feel shielded from the galaxy’s wrath like you did. I’ve stayed here because I didn’t want to miss you when you came to find me, but I- I don’t know if I can go through life unknowing of what’s out there.” You jump as you hear the door of the safe room unlock and swing open. You see Emperor Kursean come in with this look on his face that you have never seen while in your presence – sympathy.

He refuses to answer your questions and protests of leaving the room. He leads you to the room you never made yours. He stops in front of the tall doors and brings you into his arms. You return his hug and ask a simple question before he leaves you.

“Krusean, am I going to die?”

He looks at you incredulous. Why would you ever ask him that question? How can you think that he would let you die?

“Sweet girl. What you will see through this door is the past you need to either close or welcome. You need to stop running away from what made you stronger.”

He places a single kiss on your forehead and leaves you.

Your hands begin to shake. You cannot help but to feel scared. You do not know who or what can be behind these doors and you do not know why they are here. You take a deep breath in and it comes out with a quiver. You place your trembling hand on the handle and push down. You hear the distinctive click and you lightly push. The room is pitch black except for the crimson light bleeding through the balcony. You step inside and close the door behind you. You feel the second being in the room, but you are not frightened. It is a friendly aura which eases you. A minute passes by and as you are about to leave you hear it. The sound that you have been longing to hear all these years.

His voice.

You tense at the sound of his voice saying your name. It pleads for you to stay and so you do. You are not scared for your life, but now as you have heard it, you fear for your heart. You cannot take another heartbreak. You just would not survive turning around and this voice telling you goodbye for the final time, or worse it not being him at all.

The voice says your name one more time and you finally slowly turn. You feel as though your heart has stopped and splattered over the floor.

It is not him.

You have never seen this warrior before. The armor is not a design you recognized, but the color is what gives you a sliver of hope.

It is silver. Mourning a lost love.

You find yourself staring at the figure in front of you and your eyes catch the handle to the weapon of the Mand’alor.

As you have been taught to do by your father, you bow your head as a sign of respect.

“Su cuy'gar, ner Mand’alor.”

The Mand’alor says nothing; he only reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“Su cuy'gar, ner riduur.”

You felt as if time froze. This cannot be him. This cannot be your love. The di’kut you fell in love with could not have become the leader of Mandalore. You could not stop the tears any longer.

“I-I can’t… How did… is it really you?”

He placed your delicate hands into his and his helmet appeared to be nodding. He is shaking again. You can feel it once more.

“It is my love. I gave you my word. I promised I would find you. I never stopped looking for you. I just hope I’m not too late.”

You shook you head, giving him the answer he hoped to receive.

“Din,” you whispered just enough for it to kiss his ears.

You did not know what overcame your body, but you blinked and your arms were around his neck; his around you. You sobbed his name repeatedly into the small opening between the lip of his helmet and his broad shoulder and all he can do was cry with you.

He had finally found you. After years of searching every planet he was sent to, he finally found the person he gave his entire being to. He felt whole. You felt complete. He held you in his arms so tight, you felt as if you became stone. A statue carved to perfection with the two central pieces fitting together with a seamless union.

“I also promised you something else if I remember correctly.”

As much as you did not want to let go of him, you let your arms fall from his shoulders, but held his hand in yours. With your free hand, you fished out his ring, your engagement ring. He held his ring with both his first and second fingers and smiled in his helmet. You kept it, he thought.

“I promised you a proper riduurok, did I not?”

You genuinely smile for the first time in a long time and nod. “Yes, you did. Are you finally making me a part of your clan?” You take a glance at his shoulder to examine the signet gracing his pauldron. “You managed to kill a mudhorn, cabur?” Din looks over to his pauldron and tilts his helmet back to you.

“I had some help. You will be joining my clan and making it three.”

“Three?”

“My foundling, Grogu.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“He’s with his kind now. I promised him I’d see him again and I hope you would be by my side.”

You delicately place your hands on either side of his helmet and bring your foreheads together. “Make me your wife, Djarin.”

“We only had one more vow to recite if my memory serves me well.”

“I’ve waited to long – we’re starting over, my love.”

He leads you to the balcony and a minute later, you are officially a part of Clan Djarin.

“Riduur?”

You glance up to your husband and although his silver helmet sits upon his shoulders, all you see is him.

“Yes, riduur?”

He takes a step in front of you and kneels. He looks up to you and places both your hands on either side of his helmet. For as long as he can remember, Din Djarin perceived himself as this cold-blooded mercenary who only cared about the credits and reputation he would gain, but after finding the kid and learning how it was to feel human again, Din Djarin is vulnerable.

“I’ve dreamt about us for so long and as I stand here now, I feel as if we never each other – just time. As my wife, I want you to see the face that our children will resemble. I want to be able to make love to you without the tint of my visor. I kneel before you as I ask you to remove the helmet that conceals the identity of your husband.”

You grace his helmeted forehead with a chaste kiss as you press the button to unlatch Din’s helmet. You sluggardly lift his helmet up and away from his face – eyes still closed as if he would suddenly regret his decision. Once completely off, you hear his unmodulated voice speak your name and you feel your heart begin to race.

You open your eyes and a grin appears on your face from ear to ear.

“Ner riduur, I knew you’d be handsome, but it should be a crime for you to be hiding this face.” He smiles brightly at your compliment. “I also didn’t know you had a dimple! My love, you’re captivating!”

You stay mesmerized by his beauty as he furiously blushes at your gazing face.

“My husband, would it be too fast to ask for you to touch me?” you plead.

“Would it be too fast to admit that I want to toss you onto this bed and make love to my wife?”

“No. I’d be upset if you didn’t. That would mean you changed. You used to be inside me with my hands pinned against the wall every chance you got.”

His eyes filled with desires and before you knew, that is exactly where your hands were – pinned against the wall.

The sanguine night sky illumination was only a factor to your husband’s stamina – one that allowed you to rest several hours later.

mando’a translations:

ner kar’ta = my heart

Mand’alor = the sole leader of Mandalore; king of Mandalore

Su cuy’gar = Hello - lit. ‘You're still alive.’

ner Mand’alor = my King

ner riduur = my spouse

di’kut = idiot

cabur = protector

tags: @theocatkov

part 3 to maroon - brick

#din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #sanguine #maroon #maroon pt 2

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turborun97 · 3 years

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Clan Vizsla

According to legend, Clan Vizsla's earliest member was Tarre Vizsla, who was said to be the first Mandalorian to be accepted into the Jedi Order. During his time with the Jedi, Tarre constructed a custom lightsaber which he named the Darksaber and used it as a symbol of leadership after becoming Mand'alor. After his passing, the Darksaber was kept in the Jedi Temple.

The ancient Clan Vizsla first entered galactic relevance around 3653 BBY, during the Great Galactic War between the Galactic Republic and the Sith Empire, when it was known as Clan Vizla. One of its members, Shae Vizla, was a bounty hunter who harbored an intense hatred for Jedi after one of them killed her brother Beron. During the Sacking of Coruscant, Shae Vizla helped an army of Sith Lords, led by Darth Malgus, break into the Jedi Temple. While fighting her way through the Temple, she broke into the Jedi Archives and reclaimed possession of her clan's heirloom, the Darksaber. She went on to become leader of Clan Vizla as well as Mand'alor of the Mandalorians, adopting the moniker "Mandalore the Avenger."

At some point, the Darksaber was once again taken by the Jedi, only to be taken back by the Mandalorians during the Republic Dark Age, reclaimed by Karn Vizsla.

Following the Mandalorian Excision of 738 BBY, several Vizslas went on to join the pacifistic New Mandalorians. Others retained their warrior roots and worked to return the Mandalorians to their days as galactic crusaders. This eventually culminated in the creation of Death Watch, headed by the barbaric Tor Vizsla. His views were challenged by Jaster Mereel, who advocated that those Mandalorians who desired to return to their roots should become highly paid mercenaries rather than ruthless conquerors. This sparked a war between the two parties, which saw to Mereel's death and lasted for sixteen years before the Republic sent the Jedi to intervene. Two years later, Tor met his own end at the hands of Mereel's protege Jango Fett, which left Death Watch fragmented.

Two decades later, Death Watch saw a resurgence under the helm of Tor's kinsman Pre Vizsla, who sought to oust the ruling New Mandalorian government under Duchess Satine Kryze. Forming an alliance with the rogue Sith Lord Darth Maul, Death Watch succeeded in taking over Mandalore and Pre named himself Mandalore. However, his reign proved to be short-lived as Maul, whom Pre had imprisoned, broke free and struck down Vizsla, taking the Darksaber and declaring himself ruler of Mandalore. While most of Death Watch sided with Maul, others -- such as Bo-Katan Kryze -- refused to acknowledge the Sith as their ruler and broke off from his rule.

After the Clone Wars, Mandalore fell under the Galactic Empire's thumb and many from Clan Vizsla found work as supercommandos in the Imperial Army while others sided with the Rebel Alliance during the Galactic Civil War. One member of the clan, Mera Vizsla, became ashamed of her clan's past and did her best to conceal its history from her children Tral and Ziar. When Tral became of age, Mera decided to pass down to him the Darksaber, which had been returned to her shortly after the end of the Galactic Civil War. When she eventually told both her sons of the clan's ill reputation, Ziar was disgusted and struck out on his own, abandoning his family's name and taking on the alias Kadar.

Decades later, Death Watch was revived once more, this time under the leadership of Atinar Cabur, and Tral Vizsla followed in the footsteps of his predecessors by joining the organization. Tral worked with like-minded Mandalorians to remove reigning Mand'alor Boba Fett from power and make the Mandalorians into a galactic power once more. However, after Kadar revealed to him that Darth Taral, whom Cabur had been affiliated with, was using the Mandalorians like many Sith before him, Tral turned against Cabur and helped his brother in killing Cabur. In the aftermath of Taral's failed insurgency, Tral declared himself Mandalore and led his kinsmen in rebuilding their order after Taral's machinations had left them fractured.

#clan vizla #clan vizsla #mandalorians #star wars fanon #star wars fan fiction #mandalorian clans #pre vizsla #tor vizsla #shae vizla #star wars destiny universe #darksaber #tarre vizsla

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raiseyourcups · 3 years

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A Girl with No Name

Chapter One

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Warnings: panic attack, canon-typical violence Word Count: 1.3k Also on AO3 Masterlist

Summary: It had been a normal day for you and the Child and then you were taken from the mercenary compound by a Mandalorian. Little did any of you know what you would go through together.

Note: A new series! Yay! But it probably won’t update as fast as Cabur which will keep it’s schedule until I finish Season 1. I’ll try to keep this updated at least once a week but I cannot commit to a specific day. I’m sorry about that.

You never knew where you came from or who your parents were. You didn’t remember what had happened or what planet you had been taken from. Someone had taken you to Takodana where you stayed for a while, Maz Kanata somehow not able to find your chain code at all according to her. Even as a child, you knew she was lying. The people that took you there told you your name was Y/N now and who were you to disagree? You didn’t know any different so you became Y/N.

After that you bounced from place to place, taking as many small jobs as you could. It was mostly you offering to help load ship cargo in exchange for passage to the next planet. The whole time wondering who you were, only the quickest of flashes coming to you before fading away. The only thing your hidden memories gave you was a crippling fear of the sound of blasters and nightmares that you never remembered. And a lullaby that you didn’t know the words to anymore.

Now you were on a tiny desert planet, stuck in a single room with a tiny green child that you had been charged with caring for. Not that you had much of a choice. The mercenaries wouldn’t let you leave the room except for a solar hour every day for some sun and they watched you with hands on their blasters. You had learned to hide your trembles at the sight of them but it had taken a long time.

At the moment you were cradling the Child in your arms, swaying and humming a song you had no memory of learning as you tried to ease him to sleep. You had worked out a schedule for him in order to keep your sanity and track of time. Breakfast as the sun rose, a short nap before lunch, an hour outside after lunch, another short nap before dinner, then finally sleep after dinner. The hour outside had been taken away recently, more and more bounty hunters trying to get into the compound for some reason.

You weren’t sure why bounty hunters were trying to get in, neither you nor the Child were of importance. The Nikto mercenaries had made quick work of the previous attempts although their numbers were dwindling with each one.

But you didn’t know that today would finally throw everything off-kilter. You had just placed the Child back into his cradle when the first blasters went off.

“No!” You brought your hands up to cover your head despite there being no immediate danger. You brought your hands back down, trying to still your now racing heart. The Child made a scared noise and looked at you with his wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, everything’s gonna be okay. Those guys will take care of it again,” you whispered, tucking the Child’s blanket around him. Something told you that you were wrong though and as the blasters kept going off, you feared you were right. You heard the front doors shut, the sound echoing throughout the room and then there was a quiet that fell over the room.

It was broken by the loud alarm going off, mercenaries shouting as they ran through the compound and you flinched at the noises but there were no more blaster shots. No one would come in to tell you what was happening anyway. All you could do was hope they could hold off the intruders.

There was another rush of blaster fire and you couldn’t stop yourself from dropping to the floor and covering your ears again. You rocked yourself back and forth, the sound too much for you and flashes of memories you couldn’t decipher came forward. When you heard the laser cannon go off your breath started coming out quicker.

Your chest felt tight and you were sure that you were going to pass out but you needed to protect the Child. You clenched your hands into fists and forced yourself to hold your breath for ten counts before releasing it, repeating until you could think again. By the time you had the laser cannon had stopped firing and you didn’t think the mercs had been on the winning side.

You grabbed netting from nearby and went to the Child’s side. “You need to stay quiet, please,” you whispered before shutting the cradle and tossing the netting over it. Then you hid behind the far doorway and you held your breath.

There were a few more timed blasts from the cannon followed by the front gate slamming to the ground was your answer. A merc that you hadn’t seen popped out from around the corner but was immediately shot down.

“Anyone else?” A voice called out, it sounded like it was voice modulated. But you didn’t have time to think about that anymore when a droid spoke and you cursed. You couldn’t hide from a droid.

“My sensors indicate that there are two life forms present.”

“Whoever’s there, come out and I promise to let you leave alive.”

Well you didn’t really have a choice, did you? You brought your hands up and slowly walked out of the doorway. “Please don’t hurt me.”

You were taken aback to see it was a Mandalorian, you had only read about them. You hoped that this one was as honorable as the HoloNet said they were. The droid was an IG unit and that put you on edge.

“Female human, age unknown, matches the tracking fob.” The IG unit said, turning it’s head to look at the Mandalorian.

He looked at her, helmet tilted slightly before he spoke. “Where’s the other one?”

You shook your head a little before asking a very important question. “Do you promise not to hurt us?”

“Yes.” The Mandalorian answered immediately and even with the voice modulator you found yourself trusting him. You nodded your head towards the Child’s cradle and watched as they walked over to it. The Mandalorian pressed the button to open it and stared down at the Child.

“They said it was 50 years old.”

“He is,” you said from where you were. “I don't know what species he is but they age differently.”

“She is correct, this one could live for centuries.” The droid said before starting to lift his blaster. “Sadly we’ll never know.”

“No!” You shouted at the same time the Mandalorian stopped the droid.

“We’ll bring it in alive, both of them.”

“The commission was quite specific, the assets were both to be terminated.” The droid lifted a second blaster and aimed it at you as well as the Child. You squeezed your eyes shut as a blaster went off but when you didn’t feel a burning pain, you opened your eyes again. The droid was on the ground, a smoking hole through its head.

You watched as the Mandalorian held a finger out towards the Child who took a hold of it. His big brown eyes stared up the helmet-clad man in wonder before he glanced over at you and cooed.

“Can I move now?” You asked quietly.

“Yes but don’t run.” There was barely a threat in his voice and you wondered if he had meant to do it.

You looked at him with a small smile, “You said you wouldn’t hurt us, I trust you.” You don’t know what made you say that, he was a bounty hunter, paid to find you and take you to whoever wanted you. But there was something familiar about him, about the armor, that made you trust him despite not knowing who he was.

The Mandalorian stared at you as you walked over to the Child and looked him over. He was fine since the Mandalorian had stopped the droid from shooting even the cradle. A silence fell over the three of you as you wondered what happened now.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine

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only-here-for-the-star-wars · 3 years

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Obitine Week 2021 - 17th October - Outsider POV

Why hasn’t she said anything yet?

Obi-Wan stood dutifully behind his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, as they accompanied the young Duchess Satine Kryze on Mandalore ahead of another public event that would begin in a few days. He had seen her less and less often over the years, as Mandalore stabilised after their civil war. The presence of the Jedi at events like these was almost for show only. A token gesture of civility between the Republic and the independent sovereign state.

For now, the Jedi were following Satine into a history museum on Mandalore. She had come to speak to one of the professors from Sundari University to discuss the symbols used by their people to denote their leaders through history.

Is she trying to protect me? Because she doesn’t want to ask me to choose between them and the Jedi? Or does she not even know? Or is she embarrassed to have moved on to someone else so soon and- No. Darling Satine wouldn’t have done such a thing. This child could only be mine. Although he had the appearance of being at attention, his focus was on the two Force signatures he could sense sharing the position in front of him of Satine and his unborn child. Can Master Jinn sense it as well?

“… the mask itself served our people for many thousands of years dating back to Te Maan Mand’alor – Mandalore the First – who crafted out of the sternum of the mythosaur he and his clan defeated. Unlike the Darksaber where the victor of the duel could choose to spare the loser’s life even if they only rarely did so, in all instances the mask was passed from one Mandalore to the next at the death of the previous one, either at the hands of the new Mandalore following a death match, or due to them having fallen in combat.”

“We are a far more peaceful society now, I think that I would be fine, Professor.”

“It’s a moot point unless someone actually finds it first, your highness. This one here is a replica. Although I don’t doubt the sturdiness of the mask to have survived all these years. Te Taylir Mand’alor – Mandalore the Preserver – had integrated it into his helmet when he assumed leadership of the clans circa four thousand years ago. The rest of his helmet was full beskar, and despite dying of a head injury in battle, the mask remained sufficiently intact for it to be extricated and passed on to the next Mandalore.”

“Mandalore… the Preserver?”

“Yes, I thought you’d like that name. And he was succeeded by one of his lieutenants who went on to become Te Cabur Mand’alor – Mandalore the Protector. What we know of the story of Canderous Ordo is quite fascinating, really. The previous Mandalore – Te Darasuum Mand’alor – Mandalore the Ultimate – was killed by a Jetii Knight named Revan during a war our people had with the Republic, and they hid the mask so that our people couldn’t regroup to attack again while the Republic was rebuilding. Apparently, Ordo went and sought out Jetiise to become friends with them so he could convince the Jetiise to bestow the mask to him. And ultimately this non-traditional approach to the problem worked out for him.”

“Do we know anything else about this Mandalore?”

“Off the top of my head, nothing that would be of interest or useful to you. Just the salacious details that intrigue the public, you understand. His wife was a former Republic soldier, and they were both rumoured to be friends with a Master Jetii with whom he was also having an affair, a ‘Battlemaster’ Nacinta Qiort, who attended his funeral and participated in in some of the duels in his honour.”

“That’s quite a lot based on rumour, Professor.” Obi-Wan didn’t fail to notice how Satine didn’t even glance in his direction at the mention of an ancient couple who had done exactly what they were doing – the leader of the Mandalorians having an illicit affair with a Jedi.

“Well, it was almost four thousand years ago, and you know how the Jetiise are about their secrets- Ah! Sorry Master Jetii.”

“None taken.” Qui-Gon’s bored shrug mollified the historian.

“I can look to see if we have any records of what sort of policies he implemented in order to live up to his title, if you wish.”

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

By the time Obi-Wan was following Qui-Gon up the boarding ramp to their ship to return to Coruscant, Satine still hadn’t voluntarily told him about their child. It had to be his child because Obi-Wan hadn’t seen, or indeed heard rumours, of anyone else who could possibly be the child’s father.

He felt surprisingly calm about the whole ordeal. Yes, Satine was keeping the biggest secret of his life from him, but he was no longer alone. After all, if this ‘Nacinta Qiort’ that the professor mentioned was truly a Battlemaster of the Order in her time, surely she would have a holocron stored in the archives? Sure, he might have to find a librarian who spoke Old Galactic Basic Standard and then… well there was a limit to what he could ask in front of another Jedi, but perhaps just confirming that she knew Mandalore the Preserver would be enough.

“I’m pretty sure it’s only those of us trying to maintain our knowledge of this old language who have been to this section since the Rusaan Reformation…” Obi-Wan had selected Zeltron librarian Waller Demaris for the task of taking him to the holocron as the youngest librarian with any capacity for speaking Old Basic. “…This is the one.” Waller reached out with his hand an using the Force, floated a holocron down from a high shelf. It was of a simple cuboidal design, with a pale blue light escaping from the edges of the device now that it was being held in a Force-adept sentient’s hands.

A Human female was projected above the cube, turning to take in the sentients in her immediate vicinity. The expression on her face was neutral, but she spread her arms in a welcoming gesture. “Librarian Demaris, Brother Kenobi, what a surprise this is. Tell me, is it already 7958 C.R.C.?”

“Uhhh…, no it’s only 7944 C.R.C. Does something specific happen in that year?” Obi-Wan looked to an equally confused Waller, but the other sentient also had no explanation.

“I think, Kenobi, you’ve missed the part where the Battlemaster happens to speak perfect modern Galactic Basic Standard, despite having died four thousand years ago.”

“Ah, my dear librarian, it’s because I have seen the future.”

“That is not a sufficient explanation for your ability to speak modern Basic.”

“Secrets Demaris, secrets. Sentients would come to me with their secrets all the time. In part, it was because Master Atris Focela’s accusation was right, for the standards of the previous Council I was ‘too permissive’, if only because I firmly believe that you should meet sentients as they truly are, not how you wish they were, because it is only from that position that you can guide them to where they ought to be. But also, because I was willing to provide practical support where requested, and I had some quite influential friends outside of the Order, a Republic Senator, the Admiral in charge of the Republic Navy, even Mandalore himself, to achieve such things if required. I suspect this is the reason you have come to see me.”

“And you know why we’ve come to see you, because you’ve seen the future?” Waller cocked an eyebrow at the projected woman, before turning to Obi-Wan.

“Indeed. I would also suggest Kenobi borrows the holocron of Grandmaster Jolee Bindo, but I know you’ll have some reason for denying that request.”

Waller turned to his data pad to bring up the details of the other mentioned holocron, frowning when he realised what those restrictions were and when they were placed – after the recorded date of this woman’s death. “That holocron has restrictions placed on it – only Masters on the Council may access it. I’m a Knight and Kenobi here is still only a Padawan so he can’t even take your holocron out of the archives.”

“I would offer to borrow it myself, because I am a Master on the Council, but I know you’ll deny that request too.”

“Uhhh, yeah. It’s because you’re not actually a sentient. You know that, right? You’re an artificial intelligence steeped in the Force that has copied as much as possible of the Force signature and mind of a millennia-dead Human.”

“I know. I will just have to remind Kenobi of it years from now so that he can come and check out the Grandmaster’s holocron for himself.”

Obi-Wan turned to the Zeltron “Waller, please. She obviously has something she wants to tell me.”

“She’s not a sentient, Obi-Wan. But fine. I’ll tell you what, how about I check this holocron out of the Archives under my name for now, and you return it directly to me when you’re done so she can help me with other translations, on the condition that I don’t get dragged into whatever your problem is that apparently requires a restricted holocron.”

“Deal.”

“Vod, I don’t think this is going to be a long conversation” the projected Human female’s facial expression still hadn’t moved from its neutral mask.

“What did you just call me?”

“Gar jorhaa'ir luubid Mando'a, gar kar'taylir meg ni ru'sirbur.”

“Okay, I don’t know that much Mando’a.”

“Clearly. You are here because you have some notion of my friendship with Te Taylir Mand’alor.”

Obi-Wan looked downcast for a second. They were merely friends? It was four thousand years ago, of course it was possible for history to have recorded these things incorrectly.

“You look disappointed.”

“No, it’s just that-” perhaps there is no one who can empathise after all. “I was recently on Mandalore, and I’d heard from an historian that you were friends with Mandalore the Preserver and his wife, and according to their history you were also rumoured to be having an affair with Mandalore. But you’re a Master Jedi, I should have known better than to wonder if such a thing were true.”

“You’re asking me if the Mandalorians have recorded history incorrectly? Then yes, it is not as they have described it to you.”

“You’re not going to ask me about why I’d come to seek you out?”

“No, because I have seen the future, some thirteen-or-fourteen-odd years from now. Ni kar’taylir, ner vod. Ni kar’taylir tion’ad gar kar’taylir darasuum.”

“And you’re not… going to rebuke me for it? For being in love?”

“Of course not. To my knowledge you are Human.”

“What if I said that Duchess Satine Kryze was pregnant with my child?” Obi-Wan carefully studied the projected face of the simulation of the Master before him – they didn’t flinch at his question or appear to be disgusted by what they’d just heard. He didn’t know if it was merely that the holocron itself had no programming to simulate the reaction, but he suspected that more likely the Master Jedi in question would have been disciplined enough not externally show any internal surprise.

“She will call her son Korkie, and place him in the care of a cousin. He will grow up strong and kind, with a fervour for justice that you can feel proud of.”

“So she is planning on keeping him from me?”

“Gar cuyir Jetii, ner vod. It seems to me that she won’t tell you not because she doesn’t love you, but because she does. It will be a decision she agonises over until she prioritises her respect for not just for the young man you are now, but for the Master Jedi you are to become. Thatis what I have seen. So I put this to you – will you in turn extend that same respect to her and her decision?”

Obi-Wan sat staring at the holocron of the conveniently prescient Master Jedi. The issue is resolved. If this is what has been seen, then it’s not as if I have a choice.

~~~

Mando'a All the translations for the titles of the various Mandalores are in the text itself. Vod - sibling Jetii / Jetiise - Jedi / Jedi (plural) Gar jorhaa'ir luubid Mando'a, gar kar'taylir meg ni ru'sirbur. - You speak enough Mando'a, you know what I said. Ni kar’taylir, ner vod. Ni kar’taylir tion’ad gar kar’taylir darasuum – I know you, my brother. I know who you love.

#obitineweek2021 #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #holocrons

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jonathananubian · 2 years

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Rules: DON’T REBLOG THIS ONE, MAKE A NEW POST! List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

I was tagged by @wrennette, because they opened it to everyone~

1. The first time he set eyes on Lak-min Honlak it was behind the stark serenity of a training mask. The man was in his training block and slept in the bunk across from him in the trainee barracks. Ner Cabur, Gar Cabur

2. Vokara Che looked over the results with a tired sigh. The boy couldn’t have been older than 14 and yet he was acting more like a traumatized Knight than a newly minted Padawan. So far he had remained tight lipped, either from fear or trauma she couldn’t be certain. They hadn’t even been able to get his Master’s name from him, or whether they were still alive or not. You are NOT your DNA

3.Standing behind the pilot Jango stared out at the verdant world below and let out a harsh sigh. Off to his left Myles leaned casually against the side of the cockpit, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face as the surface of the planet, and Jango’s doom, loomed ever closer. “If this all goes to hell I’m laying all the blame on you.” He said with a huff. Ner Mirjahaal

4.On a world abandoned by sapient life a small ship set down on an ancient landing pad. Inside the cockpit the senior padawan let out a slightly shuddery sigh as she shut everything down. Protostar

5 The distress signal had come out of nowhere one cycle, lighting up their systems and blaring through their headsets. Whatever was causing it was old, ancient if Ironhide was to be believed, and nothing they tried could turn the damned thing off. Protection Protocol

6. Spots danced before her eyes as the blinding myriad of colors finally began to fade. Her head felt as if someone had split it in two and shoved something inside her body, something that was too large for her small frame. Starstruck

7. Obi-jul of the Major House of Harobi, last child of Obi-lum and Obi-pej, spent the morning of that fateful day with the remnants of House Harobi. In the last year the power of their House had diminished, though they still retained their status as a Major House through sheer competence and a connection to the Stars. Kar'alor bal val Stewjoni

8. At first Kom’rk couldn’t be certain what he’d heard, the sound was foreign in a world where everyone shared the same voice. But as the door opened and he looked up from his datapad he stopped dead in his tracks. Her Laughter is a Revelation

9. With a tired sigh they who had been crowned Mand’alor looked over the verdant world with a serene expression. When they had taken up the mantle of Mand’alor they had chosen to take on the burden of leadership, and all that it entailed. Disregarding the repercussions and the things that would be demanded of them. Ner jate’kara

10. He really shouldn't care, such things were beneath him now, but as he stood there he couldn't help but to ask. "Why do you call me that?" He finally voiced the question that had been bothering him for some time, crossing his arms and glaring up at the Dashade. "Little Sith." He said, Imperial accented voice dripping with disdain. "Was Tulak Hord so much larger than I am?" Little Sith

I have no idea what any of this says about me. Someone else want to try analyzing this? XD

I’m opening this to anyone who wants to take a crack at it.

#author memes #author challenge

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 2

First Contact

“There’s a message coming in.”

Jango looked over at Myles, who held a holo projector in hand. The ship floated through space near Concord Dawn. He had been meaning to go back and visit his home world, but he’d also been looking at new clients. They weren’t hard pressed for money just yet, but they’d had to do major ship repairs after the last job had gone south, and he needed to pay for that amongst all the other supplies.

He’d been inspecting a few different offers, weighing risk and cost and reward together.

“Who is it?” he asked, tilting his helmet towards his companion. Myles was his second in command, Jango could tell he was acting strangely.

“I have no idea,” Myles said frankly. “The message was sent in Mando’a, and it’s on one of the Cabur channels.”

Jango sat up straight.

The cabur channels were only used by mandalorians, and only ones with the most dire of warnings. They had been used during the great wars in history, but slowly fell out of practice as tech advanced. At this point most mandalorians didn’t even know that they existed, nevermind the rest of the galaxy.

Jango set aside his datapads and made room for the projector in Myles’ hand.

Myles set it on the table and started to play the message.

No face popped up. Instead there was a stylized pattern of jagged lines, and a crown of thorns that circled them. The pattern wasn’t familiar to Jango, nor were the thorns, but he made a mental note to double check that there were no clans with the sygnette.

A warbled voice came through in harsh mando’a.

“Aran gar adate teh Galidraan. Val haaranovor aruetiise. Te Kyr'tsad. Ori’haat, Mand’alor.*”

Jango’s sucked in sharply.

Myles watched him while Jango quickly grabbed one of the datapads that he’d been looking at earlier. This one wasn’t a request, but a report for another one. Galidraan was in the opening stages of a potential civil war. Thus far no one had come to him for assistance on either side.

He made a note to find everything he could on the Governor.

“What do you think, Mand’alor?” Myles asked, coming up to his shoulder. Jango shook his head.

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t know a lot about Galidraan. And I don’t recognize the sigil. Do you?”

“No,” Myles frowned. “But I can make inquiries.”

“Did they give a name?” Jango circled the holo. The message started to play again. Whoever had sent it had used a voice modifier, and the mando’a was accented like the mouth speaking it wasn’t used to shaping the words. Yet the structure was right. The channel was private.

Jango wished, not for the first time, that his buir was still here. Jaster would have known all the signettes and all the clans that had ever been. He would be able to place the accent. Perhaps they were a foundling, and that was where it came from.

“Not a real one.”

Jango looked to him in inquiry.

“They called themselves ‘Bridger Tano’.”

Jango looked back at the holo. It was conceivable a name. Just a very odd one. “Isn’t ‘Tano’ a togruta name?”

Myles just shrugged.

The holo started repeating itself again, until Jango finally turned it off. He was going to have to look into this, all of it. Who had sent the message? Was it accurate?

Was Vizla on Galidraan?

Jango turned back to his work. He needed to get organized. Before he could sink too much into the new mystery they still needed credits.

He made a list in his head.

Find a new job.

Feed and clothe his people.

Look into Galidraan and see about hunting Vizla down like a dog and taking his head.

Perfect plan.

He picked up a holo for a commission from Savareen.

~ ~ ~

“So who’s Bridger Tano?” Kilindi asked from where she was sat beside Maul. Their table was small, and cramped into a storage room. Wires poured from a hole in the wall like entrails that hooked into the fist sized comm unit that Daleen had found somewhere. It was her idea to replace the initially recorded ‘Hood Maul’ as Kilindi called it with a stylized rendition of his face tattoos and horns. It was a little too distinct for his taste, but even his master might not recognize it. It had the same jagged lines that marked his face, but simplified, and circled with his short horns.

“There is not Bridger Tano,” he said, rolling his yellow eyes at her.

“I know that,” Kilindi insisted, “But you came up with the name pretty fast. Have you used it before?”

Maul considered her. Once, she had taken him swimming with her in the sea near the academy. The day was one of his few pleasant memories, even though it was also haunted by his master’s attempt to ‘train him’ on Mygeeto. Maul had never liked the water after, but the sea of Orsis was tolerable with Kilindi. She was kind to him, and respectful as well. She understood there was more darkness inside him than even his outer appearance could betray.

"So now you know about me. What about you? Where are you from?"

Maul looked down and watched the water ripple at his fingertips. From this angle the marks on his chest almost looked heart shaped. "I can't say."

Kilindi tilted her head curiously. Water dripped down her cheeks. "Because you can't say, or because you won't?"

"Both," Maul said, then shook his head. "We can't talk about... me." It was against the rules and if he broke the rules the punishment would be severe. Kilindi couldn’t know about him or his master. Just who he was supposed to be. A normal zabrak who was going to guard a blind business man. Not a sith-in-training. Not a force sensitive assassin. Not Maul.

Kilindi shrugged, the movement making her head tresses jiggle. "Nevermind. I won't ever ask personal questions again.”

She hadn’t, either. She asked his opinion. She asked his thoughts and preferences and interests. She never asked about his past. She was good like that. Maul thought she might have passed word of his secrecy to Daleen, for she didn’t ask either.

“No,” he said finally. “But ‘Bridger’ was my… not my brother. But I wanted him to be.” He had offered his apprentice a brotherhood, and forced his brother into apprenticeship. Maul had made so many mistakes with people he wanted close to him, so many times. He had only known apprentices and masters, he didn’t know how to be anything else. Hindsight was twenty twenty, and Maul’s mind felt clearer here. Even though the Force was loud with the voices of jedi not yet dead and force sensitive children who hadn’t been hunted down, even though it was disgustingly bright with the light side, he felt like he was lighter. And it wasn’t because his legs were no longer powerful metal, or that he was two feet shorter.

He would have to work on how he interacted with people.

“And Tano?” Daleen asked, looking somewhere between curious and worried for him.

“A powerful fighter I used to know. She was clever, and relentless.” Maul had respected the Lady Tano, for all he had loathed her lineage. She should have listened to him on Mandalore, and perhaps she would not have perished on Malachor.

She wouldn’t even be born yet, he realized with a start. She was barely grown when they first clashed, and he was well into his thirties.

“...You don’t talk a lot about your life outside Orsis,” Kilindi pressed gently. Maul could feel her worry. Did she think it was his concussion talking?

“I’m not allowed to,” he confessed, “My Master would be furious if he knew.”

The words felt like acid on his tongue. ‘My Master’. Something he had once taken such pride in. He was the apprentice to the most powerful creature in the galaxy. He had given him everything, and he had been discarded like garbage.

“Then why are you?”

Maul didn’t know how to answer that. “Isn’t that- isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

Kilindi had once broken Trezza’s rules to help Maul with a task. Daleen was breaking several rules to help him now, with no real questions asked.

Both girls stared at him, before a grin bloomed across Kilindi’s face. Daleen covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes were dancing even if he couldn't see her mouth.

Maul, his skin feeling warmer, looked towards the door. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“You don’t need to. Your eyebrows say everything.”

“I don’t even have those!”

Daleen struggled not to laugh at them. Finally, she gave up and started giggling helplessly. Maul shoved her, and she kicked his knee in return.

It felt good. Sitting in the dark with his friends, laughing and breaking rules. Most of the rest of the academy was sleeping. There were few who would catch them, and Kilindi knew Trezza’s habits enough they didn’t worry about him.

His friends.

Maul looked at the two girls.

He would not allow Sidious to take them from him again. He refused.

Maul looked back at the holo projector. There was another message he was very tempted to send, but he didn’t know how well it would be received. And, also, he hated the potential recipients.

The hatred he harbored for his master overshadowed every other grudge he had ever had.

Yet, now it warred with new feelings that Maul was struggling to process.

“I have one more to send,” he said at last, and gave Daleen the code for the next message.

If she recognized the numbers she didn’t show any sign. It wasn’t as secret as the one he used for the mandalorians, but it was still more than a little outdated. Another relic he’d discovered on Malachor, on the body of one of the dead. It was probably about two thousand years old, but it should still work.

Daleen set up the holo and looked to him for confirmation.

Maul cleared his throat and nodded to her. She hit the button and he spoke briefly.

“You have surrounded yourself in darkness, and now the noose begins to tighten. Shadows encroach. Search underneath the underneath.”

Kilindi waited until Daleen checked the transmission and sent it out before she looked at Maul.

“What in the galaxy was that? Don’t tell me that Maul is dramatic!”

Daleen shot Kilindi a look. “His first day here he picked a fight with the biggest person and almost bit his nose off. Of course he’s dramatic.”

“I am not!” Maul argued.

“You are so! You’re so dramatic your eyes glow in the dark.”

Maul huffed at Kilindi and helped Daleen pack all the wires back into their proper place. Orsis was equipped with encrypted lines already, and it hadn’t taken Daleen much work to monkey off of them and hide the origin of their messages. It was best Maul could do without giving himself away, but still possibly getting what he wanted.

Namely, irritating his master.

He had no doubt that Sidious would take his anger out on Maul when he saw him next, but he had endured pain beyond measure. He had died. He would survive Sidious as well.

The trio peered out into the dark hallway before they scampered out of the room and raced for the barracks. Kilindi left them at the door to go to her own room, her eyes sparkling.

“See you tomorrow,” she whispered, patting each of them on the shoulder before she ran off.

Daleen bunked across the hall from Maul, and she too left him a moment later.

Maul slipped silently into his own room. He was steadily getting used to his new, smaller body. It was easier to go unnoticed when he was this small, even if he wasn’t as strong as he would one day become.

In the next few days he would start training again, even harder than before. He had to get as strong as he could as fast as he could. He was no longer training to impress his master. He was training to kill him. To destroy his life’s work and rip him from his pedestal. He would throw him into the dirt and grind him under his heel. He would take everything his once-master had ever had and burn it to the ground.

And then he would get up, climb out of the dust, and join Kilindi and Daleen. And perhaps Eldra Kaith. For a jedi, she had been a good sort.

She had fought with honor. She was cunning, fast, and strong. She was worthy of their battle. Her death left him feeling empty and hollow.

It was not the grief that came with Kilindi and Daleen, but a different sort of sorrow.

Maul climbed up onto his bunk. He took the top, so he could always have the high ground, and so he never had to worry about anyone or anything falling down on him from above. He didn’t trust his classmates. With good reason. They were future bounty hunters and assassins, the dregs of the underworld that Maul had spent most of his life surrounded by. He trusted few. In the future he would trust their interests. Money, power, and bits of shine and spice. Now they were teenagers and none of them were above trying to discreetly take his mattress out to the sea and set him to float.

Maul was typically above the childish pranks, since his little ‘test’ when he’d begun training here and nearly killed the massive being he’d taken on, but there was a pair of Rodian’s who liked to cause him trouble.

Trezza liked them to handle things themselves, and as long as they were sneaky enough he would let them get away with it.

Maul had once shattered a boys hand for calling Kilindi his slave, and Trezza had never brought the incident up again.

The mattress was firm underneath him when he rolled on his side to face the door. If he stretched out his senses he could feel Daleen across the hall. She was an easy person to be around. She felt like summer wind against his skin, warm and light but capable of becoming something so much more. There was storm buried deep in her heart that he had been too young and too focused on himself to notice last time.

Further, near the corridor that would lead to the building where the teachers slept, Kilindi was still settling. If Daleen was a summer wind Kilindi was a summer sea. She was warm, powerful and strong, capable of anything. She could be great. She would be great if Maul had anything to say about it.

He did.

This time he did.

Maul closed his yellow eyes and pulled his blanket up over his shoulders. Tomorrow he could finally start training again. Tomorrow he would begin his long mission to protect what was his.

~ ~ ~ ~

If he was being perfectly honest Maul didn’t particularly like the beach.

The water would always remind him of Mygeeto, no matter how many years had passed (or that he hadn’t even completed that training yet here.) and the sand clung to his skin and managed to get everywhere that he never wanted it. He may not have been prone to burning in the sunlight but it still felt sweltering on his bare chest. He was a creature made for darkness, not sunlight.

Kilindi wanted to come, though, and Daleen agreed with her.

Maul had never skipped class before. Not one single lesson, not in either life.

When Kilindi suggested it, Maul followed her without argument.

Dallen stretched out on a towel a few metes away from him. She’d pinned her dark hair high on her head and seemed to be intent on baking herself. She was frighteningly exposed, but the knife next to her right hand was a small comfort for him.

Kilindi was already in the water, her body cutting through the waved with the utmost ease. She was made for the ocean. He was made for the shadows. Daleen was made for talking the skin off a tooka.

She was so persuasive sometimes Maul would have thought she was using the Force if he didn’t know better.

That somehow seemed even more dangerous.

There were some beings that the Force didn’t work on. Toydarians and Hutts being prime among them. Daleen would be good for times when force, either kind, was ill advised. There were times when a person needed to be more subtle than Maul really was.

Oh he could sneak around. He could make himself into a shadow. He could infiltrate any prison he wanted, and frighten whatever underworld scum he wanted to. But those tactics got people talking.

Last time he’d learned the hard way that he was going to have to be more careful. In luring out Kenobi he’d also lured in his master.

Kenobi.

Maul looked away from the girls towards the sky, as blue as his rivals eyes. He still couldn’t understand why he had looked so sad when he’d held his dying body.

If Maul remembered right, Kenobi was a few years older than him. Had he even gotten that silly little braid of his yet? Or was still sheltered and safe inside the jedi temple? Qui Gon Jinn would be younger now too. Younger and stronger.

Maul itched to fight him again.

When he was stronger, when he wasn’t as slow with age and battleworn as he had been when they’d dueled on Naboo. After decades Maul himself understood what age did to a person, although he’d never had bad knees or hips. He’d just replaced them whenever they wore down. His shoulder and wrists were another matter.

If there was one thing he enjoyed about this entire endeavor it was that this young body lacked a few decades worth of residual pain. He’d always drawn energy from the Force and from his own feelings, but there was something different about having a body that wasn’t constantly on the edge of exhaustion, tormented after years of malnutrition, torture, battle, and so many near death expiriences he had long ago lost track. His tattoos had hid it, but he was more scar tissue than skin by the end of his life.

Maul kicked at the sand under his feet. He’d never known he would miss the feeling of it squishing between his toes.

He felt Daleen come closer to him, so he wasn’t surprised when her head popped into view. She was at least getting quieter on her feet.

“Whatcha thinkin of?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Maul kept his face perfectly smooth. “Nunya.”

“Nunya?” Daleen repeated, her brows furrowed.

“Nunya business.”

She stared at him. He stared back.

“I… hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said with certainty.

She pouted. “I wish I did.”

Kilindi finally climbed out of the water and shook her head tresses out. The stripes glittered with water droplets.

“What are you guys doing?” she asked, swinging an arm around Daleen’s shoulders.

Daleen shot Maul a look before she said, “Nunya.”

Kilindi punched her in the side. “Shut it.”

Daleen shoved her harmlessly and stuck out her tongue.

“You’re both such children.”

“...I think you’re younger than the both of us.”

Maul narrowed his eyes at Kilindi. “You can’t prove that.”

Her grin turned mischievous and Maul nearly took a wary step back. He knew from experience that nothing good came from Kilindi looking like that.

He kept his ground.

“What are you thinking?”

“I was thinking we should have a contest,” she said innocently.

“What kind?” Daleen pulled out from under her arm so the three of them formed a triangle.

“Well. Next weekend Trezza is having the mid-term examinations, right?”

Maul had completely forgotten about those. Most students in Orsis would be cramming in the week to come, staying up late training or studying or both. The tests were grueling, and taken individually and in private. Each test was different, and pushed students to their limits. How well they did determined how high they scored, with a system that Maul had never totally understood. However, he and Kilindi had always placed at the top in each field. Survival, combat, espionage, and, for older students, there was the optional seduction.

Maul had skipped out on that one.

“Yeah,” Daleen finally said, frowning.

“Well, we should have a contest. Whoever does the best overall wins.”

“That’s so not fair!” Daleen argued. “You two will beat me.”

“Not if you do better,” Maul said dryly. Daleen scowled at him. “Besides, she said overall. What does the winner get?”

Kilindi considered that, tilting her head. “Mmmm. Bragging rights?”

Good enough for him. Reluctantly, Daleen agreed as well.

Together, the three of them made their way back to the academy, where Trezza was waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Run,” he ordered, pointing to the track that wound its way around the facilities.

They took their punishment without complaint, a new tradition started.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* Guard your people from Galidraan. They hide traitors. The Death Watch. I swear, Mand’alor.

A/N : I made up the Cabur channels for convinience. I’m not an expert I’m just having fun here, so uh. Yeah.

#Darth Maul #Daleen (Star Wars)#Kilindi Matako #Star Wars #star wars the prequel trilogy #Maul #Time Travel

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