#something something about the mandalorian who has always been mandalorian until by all accounts he wasnt
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I think i am becoming unironically attached to bobadin
#bobadin#theyre husbands theyre best friends theyre ace theyre lesbians theyre t4t theyre queer platonic theyll be together until they both fall#something something about the mandalorian who has always been mandalorian until by all accounts he wasnt#something something the mandalorian who was never a mandalorian until by all accounts he was#and they hold hands
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Best Kept Secret
chapter eleven : he loves me not
THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!
pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 4.6k
summary : something has changed in your relationship with the mandalorian
warnings, etc. : language, angst
Something is wrong.
All day it’s been wrong.
He’s different. Distant.
You can’t help but wonder if you went too far last night, he had seemed skeptical at best when you had presented him with the idea, and then the sex.
Sex had always been special with him, no man has ever given you the rush of fire in your veins like Mando. But last night was… somehow even more intense than ever before. Like he had wanted to burn himself into you, permanently.
A small part of you wonders if he did.
But it doesn’t matter because you can’t ask him about it. He won’t even look at you. His helmet faces you but you’ve learned how to tell if he’s really looking at you. There’s a certain chill that runs down your spine, it isn’t there now and you know deep down that he’s looking right past you.
The real giveaway that something is amiss is his voice. There is none of that familiar fondness that you had grown accustomed to. His greeting is short and he makes no attempt to speak to you in the library, so you read. Maybe he just needs space.
At least that’s what you tell yourself as you close your book, not even realizing you’d finished it until you peer out the window, the sun is setting and you realize you’ve spent the entire day in silence. He didn’t read today, he just sat across from the nook like he used to do.
“Is everything okay?” Your voice almost sounds hoarse from not using it all day.
He doesn’t even offer up a verbal response. Just a nod.
Okay so you fucked up. The birthday thing might have been too far, too… personal. That’s fine, you can fix this.
Except you can’t, because when he walks you back to your chambers you lean against the doorway and give him a small smile.
“Hey, you know you seemed pretty stressed today. Maybe I could help with that?” You brought your hand up to his arm in what you had intended to be a comforting gesture but he flinched away like you had burned him. You immediately drop your hand.
You can’t pretend that doesn’t sting.
“Did I do something wrong?” You wish your voice didn’t sound so wounded as you say it.
“No, not at all. You should get some sleep.” His arm gestures inside and that’s when you know he’s lying. Because the helmet isn’t even facing you now. He isn’t even trying. But you don’t argue. Maybe he just needs space.
Tomorrow will be different.
It isn’t of course. He’s the same. If not worse.
Today you only get one word out of him.
“Good morning Mando.”
Nod.
“Library?”
Nod.
“You might like this book, the main character reminds me of you.”
That doesn’t even get any sort of reaction.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
That’s it?
“Okay.”
Nothing.
“I think I want to turn in early…”
Nod.
“Good night Mando.”
Nothing.
And now you can’t sleep.
Because you feel like you’ve done something wrong. Which is stupid, you shouldn’t feel that way, especially regarding your relationship with him. There is no relationship, besides friends. Friends who take care of each other in several ways.
Are you even that anymore? How are you supposed to keep track of the persistently changing status of your friendship with the Mandalorian when he can’t seem to stop being indecisive.
Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover.
Lover? Is that the right word for what he is? It feels right but at the same time like it shouldn’t be spoken aloud. Something about the intimacy of the word makes it difficult to connect to him. Like you’ve put up barriers to specifically separate him from the word.
Why can’t he just pick one and stick with it? Preferably he would choose to be your friend.
That’s what this is isn’t it?
That’s what you want?
You’ve deliberately been forcing that label on to him, so it has to be true. He is your friend.
Then why do you feel hollow now that he’s suddenly shut you out? Not sad, not angry, just… hollow. Like something is missing. There aren’t a lot of words that can describe the empty ache in your chest.
Today he wasn’t your friend. He wasn’t even your rival, he went a step further than that, separated himself from even that shred of connection you two had built your entire bond on.
Today he was just your bodyguard.
Weeks of slowly built up companionship gone in an instant because what? You threw him a birthday party? Surely that can’t be it. Yet seemingly that is the case. What was it he had said to you that night?
You shuffle through your blankets before finding the book. You were practically using The Smitten Paladin as a diary at this point. You had bookmarked the page with the necklace, scrawled it above a random chapter title in hopes of remembering it.
ner kar’taylir darasuum
It had been branded in your mind the moment he said it. The moment he had dismissed himself you had written it down, something about the way he had said it had made it stand out to you. Most of the time when he spoke to you in Mando’a it always seemed like he couldn’t help himself. Like the words were forcing their way out of him.
But not this.
This was the first time you truly believed he had intended to say those words. They didn’t fumble out clumsily like he couldn’t form sentences in Galactic Basic fast enough. No, he had said this with a reverence that settled deep in your bones, like you were a priestess and he was confessing his sins.
Maybe that’s why he was being so cold. You had previously gotten into an argument when he had called you sarad’ika for the first time, maybe this is like that. That still doesn’t make sense though because the only reason why he got so mad was because you had asked what it meant. You assumed you were past this sort of thing though.
Maybe you had done nothing wrong. Maybe he was just angry for the sake of being angry.
You’ll ask him tomorrow, you’ll put your foot down and make him talk this out.
✩
You don’t even get a chance to chastise him for his frigid demeanor.
You’re already in a bad mood when Elain and Lysa come to dress you in the morning, and your mood only gets worse when they bring an electric blue dress out of the closet and you realize what day it is.
By the time you’re leaving your room you’ve practically got steam coming out of your ears, when you give the Mandalorian a dismissive “good morning” he returns your greeting with an unmistakable sorrow that gives you whiplash. The last two days he had been cold and dismissive at best but this was new.
He sounds miserable.
Your anger dissipates almost instantly when you notice the distinct tilt of his helmet towards the floor. What if you’d been wrong? What if you’d done nothing to upset him and instead he had just been having a rough couple of days. Shame washes over you at the thought and you shoot him a sympathetic look, your immediate reaction is to comfort him.
“We don’t have to go to the library, you know. If you want we can do something else.” You don’t make a move to touch him, even though you want to, you say it almost like you’re trying to comfort a wounded animal, like you don’t want to scare him off.
“I don’t mind the library.” It’s never been easy to read him, not being able to see his face has always put you at a disadvantage with this sort of thing but right now it’s like there isn’t a barrier of steel between you at all. It’s like you can view him clearly, and what you see makes your stomach churn because he’s got the same tone of voice that your parents had the day they told you you were being sent away. Someone who's avoiding delivering bad news.
“Okay.” You lose all the motivation you had to talk to him, consumed by the uneasy feeling in your gut as you make your familiar trek to the library. You sit in the nook, instead of finding a book you lean against the glass of the window. A subtle sadness settles in you as you watch the grounds, occasionally a servant will walk by, or a critter might scamper out past the edge of the forest for a moment before retreating back to the treeline. You stay like that for hours upon hours, you don’t realize how long you’re staring until you feel yourself almost dozing off as the sun sets, you wake up with a start and decide to busy yourself with a task. Abruptly standing up you start wandering through the shelves.
The library is vast. It’s easy to forget how big it is since you usually stay in the same spot. It’s a maze of shelves once you get into it. It’s actually surprising to you how little you’ve actually explored considering how much time you spend in here but your nook is only a few shelves back from the entrance and most of the fiction novels that interest you are kept near the front so now that you’re actually exploring further you’re taken aback by the sheer expanse of dark polished wood and literature.
It probably wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t already on edge but he’s standing further back than usual. It’s just a few steps but it pushes him out of your peripheral vision.
All those days you had spent wishing he would just give you some space only for it to finally happen and you can’t even enjoy it. A small part of you misses your steel shadow.
But that’s not important now. Right now you need to stay focused on the task at hand. Your strides get smaller and smaller as you get into linguistic books.
Perfect.
Your fingers trace the spines as you turn your head to the side to better read the titles. Someone must dust at night because your finger is spotless when you pull it back.
One of the few perks of Princess Harand, this library is, for all intents and purposes, completely yours. Kodo certainly doesn’t read, you’ve already discerned that he finds it to be a waste of time, his family seems to share that opinion since you’ve never seen another living soul in here besides you and Mando. That’s why you can’t hold back the look of disbelief when you get to the “M’s” and there is a single empty place where a book should be.
You don’t have to speculate, you know who took it. You turn to stare at the culprit.
“Did you take the Mando’a translation book.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, as you cross your arms.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, just staring blankly at the absence of a book.
“Yes.” It’s strained, he sounds worn out.
“When?” You want to take a step towards him but resist, opting to lean against the stacks instead.
“A while ago.” He’s lying. It’s nearly imperceptible but the helmet shifts ever so slightly to the left when he says it, like he’s looking away.
“What day? Was it the night of your birthday?” You shouldn’t be interrogating him, it feels wrong when he sounds so weary but you need to know.
“It wasn’t my birthday.”
“How do you know? You said you didn’t keep track, it very well could have been.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s better than nothing, he doesn’t respond for a beat so you keep going. “Was it? After we had sex did you come here and take this book?” The helmet turns further to the left. “Did you?”
“Stop it.” He’s clenching and unclenching his fist methodically.
“Answer me and I will.”
“I took it before then.” There’s that familiar electricity in his voice. His fist stays closed this time and you can’t help but feel a fleeting sense of relief that he’s showing the faintest bit of emotion.
“We agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other.”
“When?” The helmet finally turns towards you. It’s funny, missing the feeling of cold steel being turned in your direction.
“When we played the game. We said no lying, so tell me the truth.”
“You want to hold that over my head? Some stupid game?”
The game isn’t stupid to you.
It’s one of the few things you’ve found enjoyment in these last few weeks.
But you aren’t here to defend the game, you’re here to get answers.
“You aren’t denying it.”
It only takes two of his long strides for him to tower over you.
“It doesn’t matter when I took the book.”
“It matters to me.” You take one small step forward to press your chest against his, scowling into the thin black line on his helmet. He scoffs.
“A lot of things seem to matter to you that shouldn’t.” He turns on his heel and you find yourself missing the heat of his body, but not for long as his words sink in.
“What the hell does that mean?” You can feel your voice going up at the end of the sentence as your fury starts to boil over but he’s already walking away.
“You’re going to be late for dinner. Come on.” He doesn’t bother turning to see if you're following as you stay hot on his heels.
“Wait a second, we aren’t done with this conversation.” You have to hike up your skirt to keep up with his pace now as he weaves through the shelves, you’re grateful that he remembers the way out though, you can easily see yourself getting lost here.
“We are.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” You walk briskly in furious silence until reaching the large wooden doors. You don’t have any time to argue further because he’s opening them and continuing his beeline towards the dining hall. You can’t help yourself as you grab his arm and pull him to face you. He does but you know it’s of his own volition and if he wanted to he could just keep going so you need to make these next seconds count before he changes his mind.
“What is going on with you? Everything was fine and out of nowhere you got all… weird. It’s like you’re a ghost these last few days, just walking through walls and observing me.” You whisper yell at him, no one is in the corridor but it’s best not to risk it.
“Nothing is wrong with me. Now go, you’re going to be late.” He motions at the ornate doors but you stand your ground.
“Promise me we’ll talk about this tonight.” He doesn’t move, just stares at you as you glare right on back, unwilling to break first until after an eternity he sighs.
“Fine.” The static is low and impatient.
“Say it.”
“What?”
“Say that you promise. I’m pretty sure your creed has something in it that means you can’t break it.” You have no idea if that’s true but you need to hear him say it.
“I promise that we will talk tonight.” He sounds almost defeated but you’re satisfied as you enter the dining room.
The first red flag is that your husband doesn’t immediately greet you. He loves the sound of his own voice, so why is he silent? Kodo raises his glass at you with that unsettling smile plastered on his face as he motions for you to sit. You cautiously take your seat and find comfort in the fact that he doesn’t dismiss Mando this time as he takes his familiar stance behind your chair.
The second red flag is the realization that he’s drinking water. He hadn’t even been sober during your wedding ceremony yet here he was, as steady as you’ve ever seen.
The third red flag is that the first thing he says is a question directed at you as a servant brings you a plate of what appears to be some sort of fowl.
“Did you have a good day my dear wife?” There’s a sickly sweetness to his voice and you can feel the fainest perspiration forming on your skin.
He doesn’t know.
“It was perfectly fine. Just another boring day in the library.” You stare at your plate, picking at a tomato slice with your fork, you suddenly have no appetite despite not eating today.
He simply hums in approval and eats in an eerie silence. It’s the first time in your marriage where you actually wish he would just say something. The only noises in the room as you eat are the scrapes of his knife against his dish and the occasional vulgar chewing noise from him. He always chewed with his mouth open.
Dinner comes and goes.
Plates are taken and you sit staring at him expectantly as he loudly sips at the water in his glass. You’re about to stand and dismiss yourself from this hellishly awkward supper but he clears his throat and you're frozen in place.
“I’ve heard some rumors going around, my sweet wife.” He sets the glass down and stares at you, a glint of something viscous in his eyes.
He doesn’t know.
“Oh? Something about your brothers? Or you cousins?”
“There are rumors that I am cruel to you. Am I cruel to you, wife?”
“No, you are a wonderful husband.” It’s not your most convincing lie.
He couldn’t possibly know.
“Then why am I also hearing rumors that you were seen in the markets with another man.”
For the first time ever, it’s freezing cold in this castle.
“I-I went with Mando, he’s my guard of course he was with me.”
“Arm in arm. I believe this is how it was described.” He finally motions for a servant to bring over a bottle of a sickly brown rum, the thick liquid filling his now empty glass. “He’s the help my dear, sweet wife.” He points at Mando, standing silent as ever behind you, it makes you sick that he talks about him like he isn’t even there. “He is to walk behind you, not next to you. It says things to observers when you allow him to walk beside you.”
“I didn’t mean for it to say things he was just doing his j-”
“People love to talk. And you wouldn’t want people to say that I cannot control what is mine, do you? Of course that can’t be the case because if it was that would mean that I have been humiliated. ” He says the word with a venom you have never heard from a living thing before yet you are certain you will hear it again in your nightmares.
“That was never my intention I only meant to-”
“Do you know, sweet wife, what the most dangerous thing in the galaxy is?”
“...No.”
“A humiliated man.”
You don’t have a response as he takes what you assume to be his first sip of alcohol tonight. You’re waiting for him to drop the bomb. To reveal that he knows but he doesn’t and you find yourself releasing a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t even suspect.
He’s just threatened. This is an easy fix. Apologize and just be more careful with Mando.
“I’m sorry my prince.” You put on the most convincing frown you can. “I didn’t realize but I’ll be more careful from now on. The last thing I’d want to do is upset you.” As you wait for his response he downs his entire glass before letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Of course you will. You’re dismissed.” He waves you off and you immediately stand before rushing out of the room, you’d almost forgotten Mando was with you until you catch a glimpse of him as you make your way out. The last thing you hear is Kodo muttering to a servant to find his brothers so they can go out.
The relief you feel once you're out in the hallway is immense. You don’t get to enjoy the small victory for long because Mando is already marching off towards your room. You don’t say anything until you’re in the safety of your room, he walks in first and once you close the door behind the two of you, you turn to face him, ready to crack a joke about how that was a close call, maybe relieve some of the tension that’s been building between the two of you but he speaks first.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You find no comfort in the familiar crackle of the modulator as he stares just off to the side of where you’re standing.
“What? It sounds like you’re outraged but you genuinely don’t know what he means.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He says each word slower. Enunciating every syllable.
You manage to keep the look of betrayal off your face as you feel something crack deep inside of you.
“Like… be my bodyguard?” You sound like a child. Your voice is small and fragile.
“No. I’ll still be your bodyguard. I just don’t want to… you know.” He gestures slightly with his hands and something about the way he says it ignites that flame inside you.
“Why won’t you say it? Are you ashamed of what we did?” There’s an edge to your tone. A bite. “Because you seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit.”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He’s already leaning towards the door and you can feel a sense of panic filling your stomach. You can’t just let him leave.
He doesn’t get to do this. Insert himself into your life, make you care about him, fuck you, and then just leave.
“What is your problem?” You snap at him, you mean for it to sound forceful but it comes out more like a plea.
“I just don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that. What happened? We were fine, I would even argue that we were happy and now suddenly-”
“There is no we. ”
Ouch.
He’s right of course.
“Is this because of the birthday? I told you if you didn’t want to do that we didn’t have to.” You’re starting to sound desperate as you stare at him with wide eyes, wanting an explanation more than anything else.
“No. You didn’t do anything. I just… I don't want to anymore.” He crosses his arms. He sounds tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping. You sound the same way. He takes a step towards the door but you immediately take a step in front of him.
“Bull shit. You- you said things, you called me those things. Don’t act like you suddenly changed your mind.” It isn’t fair. You know that you sound like a child throwing a tantrum but he can’t just do this to you.
“Stop it.”
“No! You don’t get to do this! To say the things you said and then without warning just decide we aren’t even going to talk to each other anymore.” You shove his chestplate but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “I deserve to know what I did. What made you change your mind?” Tears are pooling in your lash line and you want to scream at yourself for letting him see how worked up you were getting.
You shouldn’t care this much. You’re the one who wanted this to be casual, you know that. This shouldn’t matter. You’re supposed to be just friends. Yet you can’t just let him leave.
“Stop.” You can’t prove it but you’re pretty sure his voice cracks, the modulator seems to catch it.
“Just tell me! You said we were friends, be my friend right now, tell me what’s going on, for Makers sake, just tell me!”
“I don’t want you anymore.” His tone is harsh as the visor burns in your direction.
Oh.
Any response you might have dies on your tongue.
That cracking feeling is back. It threatens to tear you apart.
Just friends.
You knew you were lying to yourself when you said it.
You can’t hide from it anymore.
The pain you feel in your chest can’t be ignored, you can’t keep denying it.
He was never just your friend.
But that doesn’t matter now. Because he doesn’t want you.
You could hear a pin drop in your room. You’re about to say something, you don’t know what but the words are starting to take shape when he speaks again.
“I was… bored. You were entertainment.” There’s no tremor in his voice now. But he won’t look at you anymore. “I just needed something to distract me from how boring the job was and you seemed like the easiest thing.”
That pulls you from your shock.
“ Easiest? ” You practically snarl the word and he starts stuttering as he tries to backtrack.
“You know that isn’t what I meant. You were just, I don’t know, available? You were here. And I was bored. But now I’m not.” He sounds like he’s trying to rationalize the insult to soften the blow but it only serves to drive the knife deeper.
“You’re lying.” You whisper the words at him, the tears are moments from spilling down your face at this point. He lets out an exhausted sigh.
“I don’t want you.” He says it with a finality. “I’ll still be here to protect you, I’m not going anywhere.” Somehow that’s worse than him just leaving entirely.
“You’re a liar. Why would you stay if you don’t want me?” Your voice is starting to pitch up. It’s pathetic, you wish you could hide behind layers of steel like he does. Impenetrable walls to keep those who mean you harm at bay.
“The money.”
That’s really all it takes to convince you. You feel like an idiot. Of course he’d do anything to keep you happy, this was probably the best paying job he’d ever had. He had entertained himself with you and you had let yourself get caught up in a fantasy that it might be more than that. It’s the final nail in the coffin. You blink and the tears finally fall. His voice is cold and unsympathetic when he speaks again.
“I thought you understood what this was.”
“I did. We’re just friends.”
Now you’re the liar.
Even if you don’t let yourself think it, you’ve always known that was a lie.
“We aren’t. This is my job . We were never friends, I was just trying to keep you satisfied but clearly I went too far. You aren’t my friend. You aren’t my anything.”
Ouch.
“I think you should leave.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand as you walk towards the closet, not bothering to watch him leave. As you turn the door handle you hear the faint crackle of the modulator, like he’s going to say something but you close the door behind you before he gets the chance.
You don’t bother taking your dress off as you collapse in a heap onto the blankets and pillows.
You shouldn’t let yourself hope that he’ll come to you. Apologize, or even just keep you company. Of course he doesn’t. So instead you bury your head into a pillow and cry until there aren’t any tears left. Then you stare at the ceiling in the darkness. Trapped alone with your own thoughts.
Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.
You aren’t his friend.
You aren’t his sarad’ika.
You aren’t his anything.
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Best Kept Secret
chapter eleven : he loves me not (RE-UPLOAD)
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 4.6k
summary : something has changed in your relationship with the mandalorian
warnings, etc. : language, angst
A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!
Something is wrong.
All day it’s been wrong.
He’s different. Distant.
You can’t help but wonder if you went too far last night, he had seemed skeptical at best when you had presented him with the idea, and then the sex.
Sex had always been special with him, no man has ever given you the rush of fire in your veins like Mando. But last night was… somehow even more intense than ever before. Like he had wanted to burn himself into you, permanently.
A small part of you wonders if he did.
But it doesn’t matter because you can’t ask him about it. He won’t even look at you. His helmet faces you but you’ve learned how to tell if he’s really looking at you. There’s a certain chill that runs down your spine, it isn’t there now and you know deep down that he’s looking right past you.
The real giveaway that something is amiss is his voice. There is none of that familiar fondness that you had grown accustomed to. His greeting is short and he makes no attempt to speak to you in the library, so you read. Maybe he just needs space.
At least that’s what you tell yourself as you close your book, not even realizing you’d finished it until you peer out the window, the sun is setting and you realize you’ve spent the entire day in silence. He didn’t read today, he just sat across from the nook like he used to do.
“Is everything okay?” Your voice almost sounds hoarse from not using it all day.
He doesn’t even offer up a verbal response. Just a nod.
Okay so you fucked up. The birthday thing might have been too far, too… personal. That’s fine, you can fix this.
Except you can’t, because when he walks you back to your chambers you lean against the doorway and give him a small smile.
“Hey, you know you seemed pretty stressed today. Maybe I could help with that?” You brought your hand up to his arm in what you had intended to be a comforting gesture but he flinched away like you had burned him. You immediately drop your hand.
You can’t pretend that doesn’t sting.
“Did I do something wrong?” You wish your voice didn’t sound so wounded as you say it.
“No, not at all. You should get some sleep.” His arm gestures inside and that’s when you know he’s lying. Because the helmet isn’t even facing you now. He isn’t even trying. But you don’t argue. Maybe he just needs space.
Tomorrow will be different.
It isn’t of course. He’s the same. If not worse.
Today you only get one word out of him.
“Good morning Mando.”
Nod.
“Library?”
Nod.
“You might like this book, the main character reminds me of you.”
That doesn’t even get any sort of reaction.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
That’s it?
“Okay.”
Nothing.
“I think I want to turn in early…”
Nod.
“Good night Mando.”
Nothing.
And now you can’t sleep.
Because you feel like you’ve done something wrong. Which is stupid, you shouldn’t feel that way, especially regarding your relationship with him. There is no relationship, besides friends. Friends who take care of each other in several ways.
Are you even that anymore? How are you supposed to keep track of the persistently changing status of your friendship with the Mandalorian when he can’t seem to stop being indecisive.
Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover.
Lover? Is that the right word for what he is? It feels right but at the same time like it shouldn’t be spoken aloud. Something about the intimacy of the word makes it difficult to connect to him. Like you’ve put up barriers to specifically separate him from the word.
Why can’t he just pick one and stick with it? Preferably he would choose to be your friend.
That’s what this is isn’t it?
That’s what you want?
You’ve deliberately been forcing that label on to him, so it has to be true. He is your friend.
Then why do you feel hollow now that he’s suddenly shut you out? Not sad, not angry, just… hollow. Like something is missing. There aren’t a lot of words that can describe the empty ache in your chest.
Today he wasn’t your friend. He wasn’t even your rival, he went a step further than that, separated himself from even that shred of connection you two had built your entire bond on.
Today he was just your bodyguard.
Weeks of slowly built up companionship gone in an instant because what? You threw him a birthday party? Surely that can’t be it. Yet seemingly that is the case. What was it he had said to you that night?
You shuffle through your blankets before finding the book. You were practically using The Smitten Paladin as a diary at this point. You had bookmarked the page with the necklace, scrawled it above a random chapter title in hopes of remembering it.
ner kar’taylir darasuum
It had been branded in your mind the moment he said it. The moment he had dismissed himself you had written it down, something about the way he had said it had made it stand out to you. Most of the time when he spoke to you in Mando’a it always seemed like he couldn’t help himself. Like the words were forcing their way out of him.
But not this.
This was the first time you truly believed he had intended to say those words. They didn’t fumble out clumsily like he couldn’t form sentences in Galactic Basic fast enough. No, he had said this with a reverence that settled deep in your bones, like you were a priestess and he was confessing his sins.
Maybe that’s why he was being so cold. You had previously gotten into an argument when he had called you sarad’ika for the first time, maybe this is like that. That still doesn’t make sense though because the only reason why he got so mad was because you had asked what it meant. You assumed you were past this sort of thing though.
Maybe you had done nothing wrong. Maybe he was just angry for the sake of being angry.
You’ll ask him tomorrow, you’ll put your foot down and make him talk this out.
✩
You don’t even get a chance to chastise him for his frigid demeanor.
You’re already in a bad mood when Elain and Lysa come to dress you in the morning, and your mood only gets worse when they bring an electric blue dress out of the closet and you realize what day it is.
By the time you’re leaving your room you’ve practically got steam coming out of your ears, when you give the Mandalorian a dismissive “good morning” he returns your greeting with an unmistakable sorrow that gives you whiplash. The last two days he had been cold and dismissive at best but this was new.
He sounds miserable.
Your anger dissipates almost instantly when you notice the distinct tilt of his helmet towards the floor. What if you’d been wrong? What if you’d done nothing to upset him and instead he had just been having a rough couple of days. Shame washes over you at the thought and you shoot him a sympathetic look, your immediate reaction is to comfort him.
“We don’t have to go to the library, you know. If you want we can do something else.” You don’t make a move to touch him, even though you want to, you say it almost like you’re trying to comfort a wounded animal, like you don’t want to scare him off.
“I don’t mind the library.” It’s never been easy to read him, not being able to see his face has always put you at a disadvantage with this sort of thing but right now it’s like there isn’t a barrier of steel between you at all. It’s like you can view him clearly, and what you see makes your stomach churn because he’s got the same tone of voice that your parents had the day they told you you were being sent away. Someone who's avoiding delivering bad news.
“Okay.” You lose all the motivation you had to talk to him, consumed by the uneasy feeling in your gut as you make your familiar trek to the library. You sit in the nook, instead of finding a book you lean against the glass of the window. A subtle sadness settles in you as you watch the grounds, occasionally a servant will walk by, or a critter might scamper out past the edge of the forest for a moment before retreating back to the treeline. You stay like that for hours upon hours, you don’t realize how long you’re staring until you feel yourself almost dozing off as the sun sets, you wake up with a start and decide to busy yourself with a task. Abruptly standing up you start wandering through the shelves.
The library is vast. It’s easy to forget how big it is since you usually stay in the same spot. It’s a maze of shelves once you get into it. It’s actually surprising to you how little you’ve actually explored considering how much time you spend in here but your nook is only a few shelves back from the entrance and most of the fiction novels that interest you are kept near the front so now that you’re actually exploring further you’re taken aback by the sheer expanse of dark polished wood and literature.
It probably wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t already on edge but he’s standing further back than usual. It’s just a few steps but it pushes him out of your peripheral vision.
All those days you had spent wishing he would just give you some space only for it to finally happen and you can’t even enjoy it. A small part of you misses your steel shadow.
But that’s not important now. Right now you need to stay focused on the task at hand. Your strides get smaller and smaller as you get into linguistic books.
Perfect.
Your fingers trace the spines as you turn your head to the side to better read the titles. Someone must dust at night because your finger is spotless when you pull it back.
One of the few perks of Princess Harand, this library is, for all intents and purposes, completely yours. Kodo certainly doesn’t read, you’ve already discerned that he finds it to be a waste of time, his family seems to share that opinion since you’ve never seen another living soul in here besides you and Mando. That’s why you can’t hold back the look of disbelief when you get to the “M’s” and there is a single empty place where a book should be.
You don’t have to speculate, you know who took it. You turn to stare at the culprit.
“Did you take the Mando’a translation book.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, as you cross your arms.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, just staring blankly at the absence of a book.
“Yes.” It’s strained, he sounds worn out.
“When?” You want to take a step towards him but resist, opting to lean against the stacks instead.
“A while ago.” He’s lying. It’s nearly imperceptible but the helmet shifts ever so slightly to the left when he says it, like he’s looking away.
“What day? Was it the night of your birthday?” You shouldn’t be interrogating him, it feels wrong when he sounds so weary but you need to know.
“It wasn’t my birthday.”
“How do you know? You said you didn’t keep track, it very well could have been.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s better than nothing, he doesn’t respond for a beat so you keep going. “Was it? After we had sex did you come here and take this book?” The helmet turns further to the left. “Did you?”
“Stop it.” He’s clenching and unclenching his fist methodically.
“Answer me and I will.”
“I took it before then.” There’s that familiar electricity in his voice. His fist stays closed this time and you can’t help but feel a fleeting sense of relief that he’s showing the faintest bit of emotion.
“We agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other.”
“When?” The helmet finally turns towards you. It’s funny, missing the feeling of cold steel being turned in your direction.
“When we played the game. We said no lying, so tell me the truth.”
“You want to hold that over my head? Some stupid game?”
The game isn’t stupid to you.
It’s one of the few things you’ve found enjoyment in these last few weeks.
But you aren’t here to defend the game, you’re here to get answers.
“You aren’t denying it.”
It only takes two of his long strides for him to tower over you.
“It doesn’t matter when I took the book.”
“It matters to me.” You take one small step forward to press your chest against his, scowling into the thin black line on his helmet. He scoffs.
“A lot of things seem to matter to you that shouldn’t.” He turns on his heel and you find yourself missing the heat of his body, but not for long as his words sink in.
“What the hell does that mean?” You can feel your voice going up at the end of the sentence as your fury starts to boil over but he’s already walking away.
“You’re going to be late for dinner. Come on.” He doesn’t bother turning to see if you're following as you stay hot on his heels.
“Wait a second, we aren’t done with this conversation.” You have to hike up your skirt to keep up with his pace now as he weaves through the shelves, you’re grateful that he remembers the way out though, you can easily see yourself getting lost here.
“We are.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” You walk briskly in furious silence until reaching the large wooden doors. You don’t have any time to argue further because he’s opening them and continuing his beeline towards the dining hall. You can’t help yourself as you grab his arm and pull him to face you. He does but you know it’s of his own volition and if he wanted to he could just keep going so you need to make these next seconds count before he changes his mind.
“What is going on with you? Everything was fine and out of nowhere you got all… weird. It’s like you’re a ghost these last few days, just walking through walls and observing me.” You whisper yell at him, no one is in the corridor but it’s best not to risk it.
“Nothing is wrong with me. Now go, you’re going to be late.” He motions at the ornate doors but you stand your ground.
“Promise me we’ll talk about this tonight.” He doesn’t move, just stares at you as you glare right on back, unwilling to break first until after an eternity he sighs.
“Fine.” The static is low and impatient.
“Say it.”
“What?”
“Say that you promise. I’m pretty sure your creed has something in it that means you can’t break it.” You have no idea if that’s true but you need to hear him say it.
“I promise that we will talk tonight.” He sounds almost defeated but you’re satisfied as you enter the dining room.
The first red flag is that your husband doesn’t immediately greet you. He loves the sound of his own voice, so why is he silent? Kodo raises his glass at you with that unsettling smile plastered on his face as he motions for you to sit. You cautiously take your seat and find comfort in the fact that he doesn’t dismiss Mando this time as he takes his familiar stance behind your chair.
The second red flag is the realization that he’s drinking water. He hadn’t even been sober during your wedding ceremony yet here he was, as steady as you’ve ever seen.
The third red flag is that the first thing he says is a question directed at you as a servant brings you a plate of what appears to be some sort of fowl.
“Did you have a good day my dear wife?” There’s a sickly sweetness to his voice and you can feel the fainest perspiration forming on your skin.
He doesn’t know.
“It was perfectly fine. Just another boring day in the library.” You stare at your plate, picking at a tomato slice with your fork, you suddenly have no appetite despite not eating today.
He simply hums in approval and eats in an eerie silence. It’s the first time in your marriage where you actually wish he would just say something. The only noises in the room as you eat are the scrapes of his knife against his dish and the occasional vulgar chewing noise from him. He always chewed with his mouth open.
Dinner comes and goes.
Plates are taken and you sit staring at him expectantly as he loudly sips at the water in his glass. You’re about to stand and dismiss yourself from this hellishly awkward supper but he clears his throat and you're frozen in place.
“I’ve heard some rumors going around, my sweet wife.” He sets the glass down and stares at you, a glint of something viscous in his eyes.
He doesn’t know.
“Oh? Something about your brothers? Or you cousins?”
“There are rumors that I am cruel to you. Am I cruel to you, wife?”
“No, you are a wonderful husband.” It’s not your most convincing lie.
He couldn’t possibly know.
“Then why am I also hearing rumors that you were seen in the markets with another man.”
For the first time ever, it’s freezing cold in this castle.
“I-I went with Mando, he’s my guard of course he was with me.”
“Arm in arm. I believe this is how it was described.” He finally motions for a servant to bring over a bottle of a sickly brown rum, the thick liquid filling his now empty glass. “He’s the help my dear, sweet wife.” He points at Mando, standing silent as ever behind you, it makes you sick that he talks about him like he isn’t even there. “He is to walk behind you, not next to you. It says things to observers when you allow him to walk beside you.”
“I didn’t mean for it to say things he was just doing his j-”
“People love to talk. And you wouldn’t want people to say that I cannot control what is mine, do you? Of course that can’t be the case because if it was that would mean that I have been humiliated. ” He says the word with a venom you have never heard from a living thing before yet you are certain you will hear it again in your nightmares.
“That was never my intention I only meant to-”
“Do you know, sweet wife, what the most dangerous thing in the galaxy is?”
“...No.”
“A humiliated man.”
You don’t have a response as he takes what you assume to be his first sip of alcohol tonight. You’re waiting for him to drop the bomb. To reveal that he knows but he doesn’t and you find yourself releasing a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t even suspect.
He’s just threatened. This is an easy fix. Apologize and just be more careful with Mando.
“I’m sorry my prince.” You put on the most convincing frown you can. “I didn’t realize but I’ll be more careful from now on. The last thing I’d want to do is upset you.” As you wait for his response he downs his entire glass before letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Of course you will. You’re dismissed.” He waves you off and you immediately stand before rushing out of the room, you’d almost forgotten Mando was with you until you catch a glimpse of him as you make your way out. The last thing you hear is Kodo muttering to a servant to find his brothers so they can go out.
The relief you feel once you're out in the hallway is immense. You don’t get to enjoy the small victory for long because Mando is already marching off towards your room. You don’t say anything until you’re in the safety of your room, he walks in first and once you close the door behind the two of you, you turn to face him, ready to crack a joke about how that was a close call, maybe relieve some of the tension that’s been building between the two of you but he speaks first.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You find no comfort in the familiar crackle of the modulator as he stares just off to the side of where you’re standing.
“What? It sounds like you’re outraged but you genuinely don’t know what he means.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He says each word slower. Enunciating every syllable.
You manage to keep the look of betrayal off your face as you feel something crack deep inside of you.
“Like… be my bodyguard?” You sound like a child. Your voice is small and fragile.
“No. I’ll still be your bodyguard. I just don’t want to… you know.” He gestures slightly with his hands and something about the way he says it ignites that flame inside you.
“Why won’t you say it? Are you ashamed of what we did?” There’s an edge to your tone. A bite. “Because you seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit.”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He’s already leaning towards the door and you can feel a sense of panic filling your stomach. You can’t just let him leave.
He doesn’t get to do this. Insert himself into your life, make you care about him, fuck you, and then just leave.
“What is your problem?” You snap at him, you mean for it to sound forceful but it comes out more like a plea.
“I just don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that. What happened? We were fine, I would even argue that we were happy and now suddenly-”
“There is no we. ”
Ouch.
He’s right of course.
“Is this because of the birthday? I told you if you didn’t want to do that we didn’t have to.” You’re starting to sound desperate as you stare at him with wide eyes, wanting an explanation more than anything else.
“No. You didn’t do anything. I just… I don't want to anymore.” He crosses his arms. He sounds tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping. You sound the same way. He takes a step towards the door but you immediately take a step in front of him.
“Bull shit. You- you said things, you called me those things. Don’t act like you suddenly changed your mind.” It isn’t fair. You know that you sound like a child throwing a tantrum but he can’t just do this to you.
“Stop it.”
“No! You don’t get to do this! To say the things you said and then without warning just decide we aren’t even going to talk to each other anymore.” You shove his chestplate but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “I deserve to know what I did. What made you change your mind?” Tears are pooling in your lash line and you want to scream at yourself for letting him see how worked up you were getting.
You shouldn’t care this much. You’re the one who wanted this to be casual, you know that. This shouldn’t matter. You’re supposed to be just friends. Yet you can’t just let him leave.
“Stop.” You can’t prove it but you’re pretty sure his voice cracks, the modulator seems to catch it.
“Just tell me! You said we were friends, be my friend right now, tell me what’s going on, for Makers sake, just tell me!”
“I don’t want you anymore.” His tone is harsh as the visor burns in your direction.
Oh.
Any response you might have dies on your tongue.
That cracking feeling is back. It threatens to tear you apart.
Just friends.
You knew you were lying to yourself when you said it.
You can’t hide from it anymore.
The pain you feel in your chest can’t be ignored, you can’t keep denying it.
He was never just your friend.
But that doesn’t matter now. Because he doesn’t want you.
You could hear a pin drop in your room. You’re about to say something, you don’t know what but the words are starting to take shape when he speaks again.
“I was… bored. You were entertainment.” There’s no tremor in his voice now. But he won’t look at you anymore. “I just needed something to distract me from how boring the job was and you seemed like the easiest thing.”
That pulls you from your shock.
“ Easiest? ” You practically snarl the word and he starts stuttering as he tries to backtrack.
“You know that isn’t what I meant. You were just, I don’t know, available? You were here. And I was bored. But now I’m not.” He sounds like he’s trying to rationalize the insult to soften the blow but it only serves to drive the knife deeper.
“You’re lying.” You whisper the words at him, the tears are moments from spilling down your face at this point. He lets out an exhausted sigh.
“I don’t want you.” He says it with a finality. “I’ll still be here to protect you, I’m not going anywhere.” Somehow that’s worse than him just leaving entirely.
“You’re a liar. Why would you stay if you don’t want me?” Your voice is starting to pitch up. It’s pathetic, you wish you could hide behind layers of steel like he does. Impenetrable walls to keep those who mean you harm at bay.
“The money.”
That’s really all it takes to convince you. You feel like an idiot. Of course he’d do anything to keep you happy, this was probably the best paying job he’d ever had. He had entertained himself with you and you had let yourself get caught up in a fantasy that it might be more than that. It’s the final nail in the coffin. You blink and the tears finally fall. His voice is cold and unsympathetic when he speaks again.
“I thought you understood what this was.”
“I did. We’re just friends.”
Now you’re the liar.
Even if you don’t let yourself think it, you’ve always known that was a lie.
“We aren’t. This is my job . We were never friends, I was just trying to keep you satisfied but clearly I went too far. You aren’t my friend. You aren’t my anything.”
Ouch.
“I think you should leave.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand as you walk towards the closet, not bothering to watch him leave. As you turn the door handle you hear the faint crackle of the modulator, like he’s going to say something but you close the door behind you before he gets the chance.
You don’t bother taking your dress off as you collapse in a heap onto the blankets and pillows.
You shouldn’t let yourself hope that he’ll come to you. Apologize, or even just keep you company. Of course he doesn’t. So instead you bury your head into a pillow and cry until there aren’t any tears left. Then you stare at the ceiling in the darkness. Trapped alone with your own thoughts.
Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.
You aren’t his friend.
You aren’t his sarad’ika.
You aren’t his anything.
I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!
#lincolndjarin#the mandalorian#best kept secret#bks#din djarin#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x you#din dijarin x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fanfiction#RE UPLOAD
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Moonrise Legacy on twitter/socmed
oh god what have I done
Imperial side first!
Elennye Trizz: Social media ghost. She doesn't have any social media that anyone knows about and people are always wondering how the hell she understands any internet memes. (little do they know she makes all the internet memes. she is the origin point. she has 800 gimmick blogs all spouting vaguely republic-critical noise and cat pics. she's a psyop and a half)
Astayr Caleo: surprisingly domestic. Xey have a cooking space-instagram where xey document hir disasters in the kitchen trying to replicate Mandalorian dishes. Torian and Mako feature in some of them as damage control or taste testers. people love how ridiculous it is and cheer when xey manage to make something yummy. Xey never post anything work related and actively block people that try to ask about it.
Sekulyn'torr: before her rise to the Dark Council she mostly just used her social media to troll and annoy other Sith - she's proud to admit she's been suspended from all social media platforms at least three times for threats of violence that offended even the Hutts. (Especially aimed at Thanaton) After their rise to the Dark Council however, they use social media mostly for policy updates and to bait their political opponents into saying some Dumb Shit that they can then use to attack or arrest them. They also occasionally get into twitter-fights with certain ex-Jedi Alliance Commanders.
Republic-side now!
Deitente Verrni: the only completely normal one of the bunch. She uses socmed for life updates and posting cute pictures of her and Aric when they're on dates off duty. She also runs a memorial page for SpecOps soldiers who fell in battle and posts obituaries upon family request.
Kessin Meyka: incendiary radical but also memer. Kessin is *always* in politicians' comment sections aggressively pointing out hypocrisy and claiming wild shit like "uh huh remember the time you tried to pay me to smuggle spice? bitch" which is usually actually true and people hate them for that. They have a library of political memes to put the Jedi archives to shame and always have at least two snappy comebacks ready on demand. their fatal flaw is that they're always commenting on random people's posts like "oh you're cute :) hmu if you need anything...discreet" and it's simultaneously a hilarious business strategy and also really cringe.
Kalvonut: Basically just one of those Inspirational Christian Instagrams, but the Jedi version. it's lowkey tacky but he thinks it's funny and nobody on the council wants to burst his bubble so they just smile and nod. he also gives out pretty decent life advice too though, so while his socmed is THAT his DMs and askboxes and comments are always filled with really sincere advice and well wishes. he's wholesome cringe, basically.
and Zakuulan SocMed (aka Greine family)
Corrain Gealai: While he was a Padawan and Jedi Knight prior to his capture, his social media presence mostly consisted of retweeting/reblogging cool art and occasionally yelling at nuclear-waste-bad takes from some Republic senators - nothing too odd. But after his stint as Lord Lune under Vitiate's control, he doesn't return to social media...until he's unfrozen from carbonite during KOTXX. He immediately starts using his old accounts to post stuff promoting galactic unity against Zakuul. He also does 'blooper reels' where silly Alliance moments that Lana and Theron declassify can be posted - mostly featuring Imperial and Republic troops coexisting or getting into stupid mischief (ex: a video of a food fight where some uppity Sith lord threw applesauce and before long there were nineteen Sith and Jedi just. dripping gravy and being lectured by Sana-rae and Bey'wan while Corrain's in the corner laughing his ass off). His socmed presence is essentially a combination political and PR account that communicates in memes and sass. After he takes Zakuul's throne however, Indo Zal jumps in to manage his public persona. This mostly consists of "please stop telling Saresh's allies and Malgus to go 'karking jump in the interstellar void,' it's bad form" so there's a notable drop in fiery internet debates after this point.
Eiri Greine: pre-KOTXX he has Generic Badguy SocMed just to keep up appearances and occasionally bitch about other Sith Lords. he rarely uses them. Post-KOTXX and his return to Zakuul he deletes everything and starts running a "shit my nephew says" account where he details all of Corrain's shenanigans and other random Eternal Family buffoonery. Iomlan features a lot just with her head in her hands. it's got several billion followers and Corrain is constantly trying to get Eiri to delete that one post about the lightsaber cheese baking incident. Eiri posts updates about Corrain's saga to delete that post. This is a Viral Meme and Eiri is constantly tagging verified accounts in the dumbest shit just to fuck with them.
Iomlan Greine: She doesn't use socmed at all until Corrain's coronation, at which point she develops a very mild case of Cat/Nexu Pic Addiction. Her socmed accounts are all just cute pictures of animals and publicly scolding her son for being an ass, or on occasion tag-teaming with Lana and Theron to publicly shame Corrain into self-care. It works pretty well, and she's confused by the number of people who follow her for cute animal pictures, but she's having fun with it.
#swtor#swtor ocs#swtor oc#swtor headcanons#moonrise legacy#corrain gealai#elennye trizz#eiri greine#kalvonut#sekulyn'torr#deitente verrni#kessin meyka#astayr caleo#corrain#eiri#elennye#deitente#astayr#sekulyn#kessin#the moonrise legacy on swtor#they're terrible
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Day 5 - Satine Lives AU
Author’s note: I love Satine Lives AUs, because they allow for such a wide range of thoughts and ideas 🥰
Summary: Assume the Nite Owls attack at just before Maul kills Satine and that they manage to escape Mandalore. What could transpire between Bo and Satine right after?
As usual, you can read it on here on AO3 or below the cut.
Tagging: @bokatanweek
05 - Satine Lives AU
They are in hyperspace now, hurtling toward Krownest. Satine had insisted on Coruscant, naturally. Honestly, that woman. Injured as she is, she is still snarling commands at people. Well, Bo-Katan thinks, you can take the Mandalorian out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the Mandalorian.
Her own thoughts make her frown. Hadn’t been her own reasoning for years that Satine wasn’t Mandalorian? Dar’manda? She sighs. Now isn’t the time to sort this out.
Bo leaves the flying to one of her Nite Owls and walkes toward the ships tiny medical bay where she had left Satine in the care of her medic, together with Korkie and Satine’s Jedi.
Kenobi. How that man had managed to safe Satine is still beyond her. In the end, it was probably sheer dumb luck. Maul had most like been distracted for the fraction of a second by the sudden attack from Bo’s warriors. A blink-of-an-eye moment that was enough for Kenobi to push Satine just enough out of the way with that Force of his for the blade to not pierce her, but to just wound her badly. How badly though… It had been hard to tell in the mayhem that had followed. Satine had slipped in and out of consciousness, swinging between looking almost dead to giving snarky side comments. Honestly, what is it with that woman?
Just as Bo reaches the doors to the medical bay, they open, and her medic comes out of the small room.
“She’s stable for now,” the woman, Nu’ur, says. “But she needs a real doctor as quickly as possible.”
Bo just nods. “We’ll be on Krownest within an hour.”
“That should do,” Nu’ur answers. “She’s awake, if you wanna talk to her.”
With that, Nu’ur walks away in the direction of the cockpit.
Bo doesn’t enter the room immediately but looks at the scene in front of her through the open door.
Satine is on the cot, pale as a sheet, but awake. Korkie is sitting on a chair right next to her, his head resting on the edge of the cot. His breathing looks erratic, though Bo can’t hear any sobs. Satine is gently stroking the boy’s hair. Her lips are moving, but Bo can’t make out the words, whispered so quietly only the boy and Kenobi can here.
Kenobi sits at the foot of the cot, looking at Satine. It’s hard to say how the man is feeling. His expression changes every few moments between impassiveness and such a turmoil of emotions Bo-Katan can’t make them out.
And Bo understands that just too well. She, too, doesn’t know how she’s feeling at the moment. If she is honest, she might not be feeling anything at all right now.
Her father ones explained to her that this happens at times when lives are on the line. When your mind pushes it all to the side. You function, you go through the motions, you do what needs to be done. You don’t think too much, you just act.
So maybe, it’s what she should do. Just keep going, strictly business. Maybe she should just go back to the cockpit and not disturb the scene before her.
But Kenobi had risen while she was standing outside, and he is now heading for the door.
“I’ll be right back,” he says over his shoulder toward Satine and Korkie, and steps into the hallway. He closes the door behind him.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
“Krownest,” Bo answers.
Kenobi nods. “Good, that’s close by at least and Maul won’t expect us to go there.”
“Ever been there?” Bo inquires.
“No,” Kenobi shakes his head. “That was enemy territory during the Civil War.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
They fall silent for a moment.
“Are you alright?” Kenobi asks quietly after while.
Bo opens her mouth to answer and closes it again. Was she alright?
“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. “I…I haven’t had time to think about all of this too much.”
Kenobi nods.
“Yes,” he answers, “I think I can sympathize.”
“Didn’t you plan on rescuing her?”
“Of course, I did,” he says. “But I haven’t spent a single thought on what the Council will do to me afterwards.”
“Your Council didn’t send you?”
“No. I…,” he trails off, looking like a kid who got caught steeling uj cake from the kitchen. “I might have acted against their very clear instruction to leave ‘an internal matter for the Mandalorians’ alone.”
“And here I always thought Jedi were not supposed to have soft spots for other people.”
“And I thought all members of Death Watch wanted the Duchess’ death. And yet, here we are.”
Bo looks down at her boots. “Yes, here we are.”
After a moment, she adds “I never wanted her death. I just…I don’t know. At least not right now.”
Kenobi nods again. “Yes, well, as I said. I can sympathize.”
After yet another moment, Kenobi gestures for the door. “You should talk to her,” he says. “At least…about what will happen next. Or however far ahead you can plan for now.”
Bo takes a deep breath, then pushes the button for the door. The doors swish open, and with an effort of will, Bo steps into the room.
Korkie and Satine both look at her. Korkie gets up.
“I’ll be right back,” he tells Satine, then bows down and puts a featherlight kiss on her forehead. Satine nods, a smile ghosting over her lips.
Korkie straightens up and walks toward the doors. When he reaches Bo-Katan, he suddenly throws his arms around her. For a second, Bo-Katan freezes. But then, as if on its own account, her hand comes up and pats him on the back.
“There’s food and water in the galley,” she finally manages to say. “Try and see if you can eat something maybe, alright?”
Korkie lets go of her and smiles. “I’ll go have a look. Thank you, Aunt Bo. For helping to save her.”
And then he, too, vanishes through the door, leaving only Bo-Katan and Satine.
“Where are we?” Satine asks.
“On route to Krownest,” Bo answers.
“The Wrens?”
“Yes. Their stronghold is well equipped. They can take proper care of your wound there.”
Satine nods. “And the Wrens will just do that?”
“When Ursa tells them to, yes.”
“And will she?”
“Yes.”
Satine closes her eyes. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Satine tries to shift then, and her face contorts in pain. But she does not cry out.
“Keep still,” Bo tells her.
“Easier said than done. Everything hurts.”
“You want more pain meds?”
“No,” Satine answers, her blue eyes fixing Bo-Katan with a threating stare. “No, they make me fuzzy. I don’t want to be…fuzzy.”
“Very eloquent,” Bo snorts. “But I know what you mean.”
The look in Satine’s eyes changes then.
“Bo, come here, sit down,” she says.
“Satine, I-“
“Please. Just for a moment.”
Bo exhales but does as asked. She sits down at the edge of the chair.
“I know this isn’t the time to talk about…everything,” Satine says. “I just…want a moment.”
Bo nods. But the silence that follows feels too quiet.
“Korkie adores you,” she says, looking at Satine. “You’ve always been more of a mother to him than an aunt.”
“He’s easy to love,” Satine answers with a fond smile.
“Yes, I know,” Bo answers.
She suddenly feels Satine’s hand on her arm.
“He likes you, too, you know. Despite everything. His memories of you are very fond. He’s a good judge of character, you know. Just a little reckless sometimes.”
Bo snorts. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“He could be what we are not.”
Bo frowns. “And what is that?”
“The middle ground. The future.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“We must believe there is, Bo. Otherwise, what is all this good for?”
Bo has no answer to that. At least not right now.
“Get some rest, Satine,” she says instead. “You look like hell.”
“Well, look who’s talking.”
And then, they both chuckle until Satine lets out hissed curse.
But Bo does stay a little while longer. They are not talking, but that is alright for now. There will be time for that later.
#bo katan week#bkw 2021#Bo-Katan Kryze#bo katan kryze#bo-katan#Bo Katan#have I tagged every possible way to spell bo-katan?#star wars#sw tcw#s05e16 the lawless#Obi-Wan Kenobi#satine kryze#obitine#korkie kryze
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The Child's Fault
Character: Din “Mando” Djarin
Inspired by (song): Cuando Nadie Me Ve - Alejandro Sanz
Warnigs: Mando without helmet (This is a neon lights warning!)
Author's Note: Hello Again!!!
This is the first fic that I posted in this account with Mando and his adorable little green child. What can I say about these two? They’re just adorable.
Ps: I miss so so so much The Mandalorian
Ps2: I wrote this during middle of season one.
So.... I hope you like this one, and as always, thanks you for all the replies ❤️ That means so so much for me. XOXO 😘😘😘
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Cuando nadie me ve puedo ser o no ser… Cuando nadie me ve pongo el mundo al revés, Cuando nadie me ve no me limita la piel, Cuando nadie me ve puedo ser o no ser. Cuando nadie me ve…
A thud resounds from the lonely ship as the beskar makes contact with the ground. The culprit of that sound growls annoyed as he looks around trying not to have attracted the attention of those who accompanied him.
That is the sound of a man who is carried away by the tranquility of being alone and full of freedom.
He never thought that freedom had a specific sound, or any sensation to which to attribute it, but for him, freeing himself at times from that oath to which he owed his life filled him with peace.
He walks slowly, enjoying the sensation of lightness that floods him, and at the same time he turns to observe the little green specimen that sleeps pleasantly in his Moses crib, too confident that he is in good hands, which he does. smile.
He shakes his head when a grip on his chest distracts him and knows what it means: In the short time she had been with him, he considered him hers. He considered it his family.
Perhaps because of the fact that he felt that he would feel like him, alone in a world he barely knew. Perhaps because a paternal instinct was born in him that he did not know he had or only wanted to be something more than a simple bounty hunter.
He still couldn't explain what led him to rescue that boy, but he was sure he should. He wanted to be someone who would do the right things and stop carrying all that heavy baggage on his shoulders.
At times he is once again that little boy who hears his mother's voice calling him from the immense gardens of that palace that only remained blurred in his thoughts, as well as the memory of his laughter every time she caught him and did nothing but offer him affection.
Even though he had learned to hide his emotions from him, he missed that kind of affection more than anything. He missed her more than anything.
He felt even more lonely knowing that there was something waiting for him somewhere but that he was not comfortable with it.
How could he go back to his "normal" life when his reputation was known to the entire parsec? The advantages of wearing a mask.
A sigh clouds the glass and he turns to see how Winter sleeps relaxed in her bunk, without being aware that he has been watching her for a few minutes without any barrier between them. That woman had managed to get into her life without even looking for him, she had saved his skin as soon as they met on Naboo, when they tried to kidnap the child and she protected him as if her life depended on it.
There, between his fear of losing the child and a feeling of warmth invading him, he felt that he fell a little in love with her.
The wavy-haired young woman settles into her sleep muttering a couple of inconsistencies and Dyn keeps them in her mind thinking about when she can tell him to take advantage of it. He laughs as a sound pulls him out of his reverie and before he can take the helmet, those huge black eyes are watching him as if it were an inspection.
The little boy with bulging eyes and green skin watches him making him feel uncomfortable, naked.
He felt so exposed that he could barely breathe easily.
A bubbling sound similar to a laugh came out of the child's mouth as he stretched his little hand towards the Mandalorian like that first time they met, hoping that he would lose the fear of feeling exposed and realize that it was only them.
Dyn got it. They were just a boy and a man who had each other. Just the two of them and no one else.
He approached slowly and took the little one in his arms, with a delicacy that was not typical of him, he smiled at him and the little one made a sound similar to a laugh.
- Be quiet. Ok? You don't want to wake her up.
The little bulging-eyed specimen stood up stretching his little hand trying to reach his face, looking at him in a strange way that Dyn understood as curiosity. For the first time he had seen him without the helmet he was taking it too well. They both were actually taking it too well.
- Yes, this is me - The murmur filled the empty spaces creating a kind of echo that only they were able to hear - Do you like what you see?
The little noise similar to a laugh made him smile again and hold him a little in his arms, feeling how the little one rested his little head against his chest; that little boy had earned what little was left of his heart.
A sound coming from the other side of the ship put him on alert at the same time that he took the blaster from him and pointed towards the door, leaving the little one in his cradle and activating the commands of his wristband in case he needed to move him away from there. .
- Everything's fine? - Winter's sleepy voice came from his bunk, hiding the vision of his face without the beskar that protected him so much.
The sound that Dyn interpreted as a laugh sounded again and he chose not to speak, but the young notary that her voice was different - Mando?
- Stay calm, it's just the movement of the wind outside. Go back to rest - Winter felt a chill to hear it. His voice did not sound as usual, with the sound of the modulator interfering between them, nor with the typical tone produced by the Beskar, but it seemed sweeter, more real. That told her that he was not wearing the helmet.
The heavy dream she had of her dissipated at the thought of letting her curiosity overwhelm her.
She sat on her knees on the bunk and crawled from her until she was in front of the door, which separated her from seeing Dyn.
- Sorry. I did not want to bother you - That female voice sent a chill through her body making her think for a second to press the button that separated the two cameras and let her see it- Is the child okay?
Dyn smiled as she watched the little boy whimper in her crib answering her questions. - You're fine?
That conversation felt so intimate that neither of them wanted it to end.
The Mandalorian took a seat near the door and in a fit of emotions put his hand on the door that separated them and let out a sigh.
- As long as you and the child are, I will be too - Winter smiled as he put his hand on the door and caressed it thinking it was Dyn's face. He pushed that thought out of her head and leaned against her with a heavy sigh. This was more exhausting than trying to guess if he smiled or even looked at her every time she spoke to him.
The two were silent as they pondered how strange this situation was: They had been together many times, talking about the next steps to take, how to find where the little one belonged and about the long nights of surveillance they had to carry out so that that little green glutton was sure. But they had never been in a situation as strange as that.
- How did he take it? - The young woman's voice made Dyn turn towards the door with a frown - I mean the child
It took him a minute to realize that he was talking about him seeing his face.
- A t least he didn't scream when he saw me. - Dyn's annoyed voice flooded that bunk and Winter laughed. The mixture of annoyance and irony in his voice made her think that he was frowning, but she wanted to have a minimal image to be able to put a face on that person who haunted her even in her deepest dreams or saved her in her worst nightmares - I must like him.
- Everyone likes you, Mando, even though you are very grumpy - The young woman was silent, she barely heard his laugh, a sincere laugh, that she admitted that his words were real. She heard the boy's whimper and it was her turn to laugh - Now am I the fun of you two?
- You too?
- Sorry?
- If you like me - The question caught her off guard, and the only thing she managed to answer was a resounding yes, but that word did not come out of her mouth- You don't need to answer if you don't want to.
- I like you a lot - "More than I want to admit" she thought as he concentrated on raising and lowering his hand on the door that separated them, imagining for a moment she was touching the beskar of his armor and she lost a second in it - Although sometimes you just grunt and touch buttons, but it's nice to be by your side, well, for me it is.
The silence made Dyn move to the door and consider again pressing the button for the bunk.
But the child read his thoughts and with just a small imperceptible movement of his hand, the situation changed and passed so quickly that neither of them saw it coming: The door opens, causing the little one to let out a sound similar to a laugh, accompanied by a curse coming from a female voice on the other side of the door that ended with Winter losing her stability and falling face down to the ground. The young woman waited for the blow to arrive but that did not happen, on the contrary, she felt the cold run through her body as soon as she felt the metal against her hands, a metal with a polished appearance.
She didn't need to see it to know that the only metal in the Razor Crest that she looked like was Beskar.
Dyn had two options before the door opened: Don't touch the button or Put on the helmet and open it.
He cursed as his options changed: When the bunk door opened without even having pressed the button, he had no time to reprimand the child, but hurried over to grab Winter before his head hit hard the ground.
And in all that, he didn't have time to put on his helmet.
Winter automatically closed her eyes, squeezing them tight enough that she didn't even feel a single photon. She held back a gasp at the idea of him stopping her fall and cursed the Force hard because that little slice of the image she had come to glimpse must be illegal.
- You're safe, Winter. Breathe - The sound of his voice, barely softened by the absence of the beskar made the young woman feel that the heat began to invade her, to the point of consuming her in a minimum second. She mentally cursed as she moved her hands trying to push Dyn away, trying to get back to the bunk and close it from the inside.
- I'm really sorry. I do not know what happened ... I swear I have not touched anything - her phrase came out of her mouth, broken and quick from her, to the point of not understanding herself - I did not see anything - she said with the head hung and eyes closed.
Dyn smiled as she shared a look with the little child, as if they were sharing a secret.
He would already be in charge of talking to him.
- Stop talking. It was an accident of the child - his voice sounded annoyed and Winter guessed that he was looking at the child - I'll talk with him later.
- Don't be so harsh. It happens to anyone.
- Not him - The little boy replied with a laugh and Dyn let out a sigh. He helped the rebellious young woman to get up little by little and once she was sitting on the bunk, he watched her without saying a word. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks were flushed. He smiled at that image and looked at the little child.
- Can you stay up? You may feel dizzy ...
- No, I'm fine. Let me know when you put the helmet on - Dyn looked at the child and understood. He was testing him.
All he did was move the helmet away from him, with a kick and a deep breath. After that there would be no going back.
- Ready. - When Winter opened her eyes she felt her world move as if an earthquake was shaking her, trying to reduce her to rubble. She wanted to close her eyes again but she couldn't.
Those brown eyes watched her with suspicion and curiosity, a combination strange to her but familiar to him.
She didn't know what to say, she only managed to raise her hand and caress her cheek, touch to which Dyn responded automatically, bringing her face closer to Winter's fingers.
- Do you like what you see? - he asked the same question as the child and Winter smiled at him as she pulled away from him a bit and thought about how attractive he was. It was an injustice that he had to walk with that helmet everywhere.
She didn't even respond out of fear of saying something that would leave her in evidence that she was interested in him.
- Cara knows about ... - She indicated her face at the same time that the Mandalorian shook his head. - She will hate me.
- Not if you don't know. It's just the kid and you.
- You shouldn't be wearing that. It is unfair - Admits the rebel making him laugh and enjoying that marvel - It will be difficult for me to see you again with that.
- You won't have to.
- Sorry?
- I can be without it here as long as it's just the two of you. It will be our secret.
Dyn leaves the cabin with a smile while Winter takes the child in her arms without really knowing how everything had happened there.
#star wars universe#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#star wars#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x original character#the mandalorian x ofc#din djarin x reader#din djarin x oc#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x female oc#din djarin#baby grogu#the child#the mandalorian fic#the mandalorian fluff#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction#fanfic writer#i write for myself but you can read it too
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Rough Day (The Mandalorian x Reader)
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 3.1K
Summary: When you woke up this morning, you didn’t really think it would be a “fixing Mando’s knife wound and then giving him a handjob” kind of day today but hey, who knew that agreeing to babysit a bounty hunter’s weird, green little child would be so full of surprises.
Warnings: Smut, language, handjobs (duh), dirty talk, Pedro Pascal (deserves his own warning), mentions of blood, spoilers for the Mandalorian.
Maker, why is this even a thing?
You don’t know his name. You’ve never seen his face. He barely says a word, doesn’t even move much unless he needs to. If he didn’t have such an obvious complex about droids, you would’ve thought he could be one himself, quietly forged and hidden beneath gleaming beskar armor for an untold number of years. You know practically nothing about him other than the few things you’ve heard about his culture—most likely either grossly exaggerated or just flat out nonsense. Everything about him is an enigma, even down to the vaguely impersonal things, such as the technical name for his “poof gun” or what insane percentage of his body weight metal has to account for.
But that doesn’t stop you. Nope, the fact that you’ve never even seen a strip of his skin doesn’t stop you from nursing a stupid, helpless crush on the quiet bounty hunter. Stars, it’s ridiculous. The modulated, low baritone, the intimidating way he carries himself, so stoic and dark and foreboding and tall—
He terrifies you. You’re absolutely terrified of bothering him, of being too forward or inquisitive. You sit in the cockpit with him for hours in dead silence, kid perched on your lap in the copilot’s seat to keep him from touching anything, hypnotized by the way his helmet subtly reflects the streaks of hyperspace as they race by and thinking about all the impossible things you want to know but can never ask about. The last thing you want to do is accidentally test his patience, possibly get marooned on some backwater planet somewhere because you just couldn’t accept something so beautifully mysterious for what it is.
So you ultimately strive to be almost as quiet as he is, always helpful but never in the way. You troubleshoot mechanical issues with the vessel when they make themselves known, take the baby in one of the secluded areas of the hull and play peekaboo for a bit when he gets too fussy, or just pick up a rag and start cleaning when there’s nothing else to occupy your time. You sleep occasionally, curling up on the floor of the hull with a blanket to avoid taking up too much space, living out of your suitcase and making a generous ten percent of his commissions just by copiloting and keeping watch over the child while he works. With the strict schedule he keeps, your pay is always handsome and consistent, even if it is all a bit boring.
Watching him wrestle his bounties into carbonite is admittedly the most exciting part for you, the rest of your days filled with nothing but the interior of the vessel as it either travels through hyperspace or sits stationary on a planet. He always returns to you bruised and dirty, manhandling and shoving his bounties up the ramp and into the carbonite chamber one by one, not bothering with the fuel needed to collect payment until at least three or four have been retrieved.
You try not to constantly replay the incredibly vivid memory of one of them snarling something sexually obscene at you once and how quickly the bounty hunter whipped his fist out and broke his nose before freezing him.
“Isn’t… isn’t he still conscious in there?” You remember asking, studying the disgustingly crooked angle of the man’s shattered silver nose, to which the Mandalorian shortly replied, “Yes,” before clambering into the cockpit and taking off.
You had to bite down on the back of your hand to keep from whimpering when you touched yourself later that night.
Maker, you want him. You want to help him relax, give him something soft and warm to come back to after exhausting days spent in the elements, after not sleeping for who knows how long and toting elusive criminals behind him. Sometimes you can’t think about anything else besides how hard he’d fuck, how much he desperately needs it, how sexy his voice would sound raggedly gasping your name through the modulator in his helmet. You want to get on your knees and give him the reward he deserves for putting himself in danger for a living, risking his life time and time again for mere credits. If he even returns your feelings by ten percent, it’d be gracious and far more than you deserve.
But then one day he comes back limping, dragging a dead body on the ground behind him by the hem of its ankle. The baby is already fast asleep in the cockpit so you thankfully have nothing better to do but watch as he silently hauls the dead weight into the hull, heaves it upright into the carbonite chamber. He’s slow—too slow in pressing the button. He looks at it for too long. It’s like he has to double-check it’s the right one, adjust his vision until it fully focuses and registers. Breath coming out stunted and shallow through his helmet, every movement somehow looks like it’s increasingly more difficult for him, limbs heavy and weighed down with iron braces and pure exhaustion.
His silhouette slowly approaches through the thick haze of freezing gas, and you blink rather stupidly down at your hand when an emergency cauterizer is suddenly pushed into it. Without a word, he turns around and starts working at his chest plate.
You’re… you’re actually kind of worried now. He usually takes care of these things himself, shuts himself away and tends to his own wounds after capturing unexpectedly difficult quarry. How serious must his injury be to not bother getting into hyperspace before treating it, much less even closing the door to the ship?
Finally managing to find some sense of urgency, you quickly reach up to fiddle with the complex magnetics below either of his pauldrons. Once the beskar, utility belt, and underplates are all removed, the Mandalorian abruptly drops to his knees with a loud clang and curls over, reaching behind his gleaming helmet to pull weakly at his cape and tunic. You lower yourself to the floor and help him, hands trying not to shake as the warm, tan skin of his spine gradually reveals itself from under the dark fabric.
Your heart somehow leaps and contorts simultaneously, soon catching sight of the ugly tear of a knife wound steadily dripping crimson down his side. “Shit,” you whisper, fumbling with the unfamiliar piece of medical equipment in your hands. “Shit, Mando, are—are you sure this’ll be enough?”
“Not deep,” he punches out through the modulator. “Just need… close it. Be alright. Sleep. Set coordinates…”
The cauterizer zaps red and reflects against the gradually dissipating fog in the air, its threatening buzz echoing throughout the quiet hull with impending pain.
“Try not to move,” you warn, swallowing thickly and reaching your hand out to rest along the smoothness of his bared skin. He noticeably flinches.
Your fingers squeeze gently, reassuringly as you bring the laser down and start at the very edge of the wound. The Mandalorian manages to stay remarkably still for being in what you can only imagine must be incredible pain, the skin of his back feverishly warm under your palm as it periodically flickers and illuminates a glowing red.
You have to bite down on your lip when he suddenly shoots a hand back to firmly grab hold of the bend in your knee, taking slow, deep breaths through the modulator and trying to relax the tensing muscles wrapping around his spine.
Maker, this is like a fever dream. His skin is so smooth, firm and lovely and bronze under your gentle touch, muscles pulsing with life as you slowly work to stop the bleeding by scarring over the tissue. It’s so… intimate. The silence broken only by the zapping cauterizer and his tight breaths, the way you’re both holding onto each other for entirely different reasons.
His grip on your knee suddenly turns to steel and he huffs out a ragged gasp in wordless caution, giving you just enough time to pull your thumb off the button before his body jerks a few inches in pain. His tunic falls down your wrist with the abrupt movement and nearly touches the sizzling wound before you can catch it, quickly yanking the fabric up his curled back as far as you can and readjusting your hold on him.
You give him a beat to recover like that before softly reassuring under your breath, “Halfway done,” and brushing the knuckles of your other hand down his spine in a small gesture of comfort.
His muted grunt of acknowledgement follows a minuscule little tremor under your palm, the way his body seems to be responding to your touch filling you with some new, radical kind of bravery. You quietly shuffle closer to him and turn the cauterizer back on, carefully framing his hips with your open legs.
“That little green thing up there is a monster, you know,” you suddenly say, wanting to distract him by filling the void but not wanting to overwhelm him with conversation. Even small talk is considered uncharted territory here, but you figure it’s better than letting him suffer in silence. “I saw it eat a live fish today. A fish. Grabbed it out of the pond over there like it was nothing and just swallowed the damn thing whole, fins and all. Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You don’t hear him or see him move, but you do feel a subtle shake of his ribcage under your hand. It fills your heart with air.
“Was twice as big as the little hairball,” you continue on. “Surprised he’s not still flailing around in there right now, throwing him off balance.”
“Not with…those ears,” a modulated voice returns quietly, his gloved thumb barely brushing a half inch across your kneecap when you suddenly breathe out a laugh in surprised delight.
“Maker, it’s worse than I thought.” Your hand soothes gently along his back, trailing over the hills and valleys of each individual rib while you work. “A Mandalorian just told a joke.”
“S-symptom of… of impend—ing death.”
“Yes, well. At least the dramatics are consistent,” you remark. “I deserve a raise, by the way. Holding that little gremlin over the toilet and having him stare up at me while he does his business is getting real old real quick, tell you that much.”
“Reason…” he breathes out, trying not to wince, “…hired you.”
“Jerk,” you accuse with a smile. “He’s healing you next time.”
There’s a small huff through the modulator, and his helmet tinks against the metal floor when he abruptly drops his head to rest there.
“Almost done,” you tell him, curling your fingers and softly dragging your nails down his side in hopes of distracting him from the pain. It works like a charm, his whole body instantly going boneless at the sensation. “Finish this up, close the door, set coordinates. Get you clean, then you can rest for a few days. You work too hard.”
“Mand—lorean…” he barely croaks out in response, as if the almost inaudible word counts as a valid explanation.
“Hadn’t noticed,” you say, finally reaching the other end of the wound. You turn the cauterizer off and double check your work, hating the deformed scar for marring his beautiful skin but reasonably satisfied it won’t accidentally reopen. “Alright. Done.”
He doesn’t move.
“… Mando?”
His body stays completely still, unresponsive to your inquiry and his breaths no longer immediately audible. Your blood instantly turns to ice in your veins as you drop the silver contraption to reach around his body and shove two fingers under his helmet, pressing them up against his lower jaw as best you can. Only, the thick fabric of his cape wraps around his neck in layers like a shawl, blocking you from feeling his pulse.
“Shit,” you hiss, your other hand quickly rounding his side under the tunic to travel up the front of his bare torso instead. Pointedly ignoring the way his chest hair tickles your fingers as you wiggle them up firm pectorals and a prominent collar bone, you eventually find and push against a scruffy jawline.
The quick, steady beating under the tips of your fingers allows you to relax just slightly, but then the Mandalorian suddenly grunts and shifts, trapping your elbow under his arm and bringing his hand up to cradle the back of yours over his shirt.
You freeze with your body nearly folded over him on the floor like that, praying you haven’t overstepped somehow. This is an emergency, surely he wouldn’t think you’re—
Slowly, so achingly slowly, he starts to pull your hand down the strong lines of his neck. You gasp, fingers trembling under his as he gradually leads you lower, letting you trace the dip in his collar bone, spread out across the solid curve of his chest and feel his heart beat unexpectedly rapidly under your palm.
Maker, this is real—he’s real. Warm, sturdy, clearly too delirious and lost in the same exact euphoria you are to snap himself out of it. Touch. Skin-to-skin contact after so much isolation, so many years spent by yourself. In other circumstances, you might be worried that you’re taking advantage of him in his clearly exhausted state, but his grip on the back of your hand is so strong—his path so steady and clear as you both travel across the hard ridges of his sternum and abdominal muscles. If anything, he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter, and for some reason that fact alone serves to make you incredibly bold.
When your fingers eventually bump into the hem of his trousers, you cautiously lean forward and press your lips to the Mandalorian’s exposed shoulder blade.
He instantly goes rigid at the gentle kiss. And then his entire back quakes with a shudder.
“Fuck,” comes that dark, gritted baritone through the modulator, losing all sense of composure and frantically shoving your hand beneath the fabric hugging his waistline.
“Maker,” you whisper against his skin, equally as fervent, letting him spread his legs slightly in his hunched-over position and maneuver your palm to wrap around a warm, thick cock. He groans and gives them both a good, rough squeeze over the thick layers of fabric.
“Fuck—you’re—“ he moans hoarsely, moving to brace an arm above his head on the floor with a metallic clatter so he can slowly start to thrust his hips into your clenched fist, “fuck—soft. How’re you so f-fucking—sof—oft. ‘N pr-pretty.”
Your body fills with wildfire, ladling heat into your lower tummy. “Softer somewhere else,” you admit quietly, brushing your thumb along the tip of his cock and humming when his body jerks with it.
“I—fuck—be-believe you,” he gasps, growing harder and harder in your hand. “Bet you feel—per-perfect. S’perfect. H-home. Rough—” his breathing stutters, helmet rolling to the side on the floor with a dull scrape, “Ngh, fuck—ro—ough day.”
“Let me handle it,” you murmur, beginning to stroke his throbbing length up and down in time with his cramped, stunted thrusts. It’s not ideal, of course; it’s dry, probably too dry but for some reason you think he might like it more this way. He gets to feel every ridge and crevice your fingers catch, gets to use his hand to tighten your grip around him even more and desperately start dry fucking your fist like he’ll never get enough of the sensation.
“Let you do anything,” he agrees mindlessly, the words sounding slurred and distorted as he groans them deliriously into the floor. “Give you—give you anything. Fuck. Sw-sweet girl. Helpful. Always—always taking care of things. The k-kid. L-look so—look so pretty.”
You press soft, open-mouthed kisses along the heaving curve of his spine, letting your warm tongue come out to taste the thin sheen of moisture glistening there. He growls low in his throat and freezes, holding himself perfectly still and clenching his hand into a fist on the floor as you flutter your tongue against his skin.
“I like taking care of other things, too,” you say softly into the dip in his shoulder blade.
“Ah—fucking, stars—like it—like it, too,” he grits, his cock pulsing between his legs. “T-too much.”
“Relax,” you encourage, reaching your other hand down to gently cup his balls. “Relax. You need rest. Just cum like this, I’ll go down on you later if you want.”
And then quite suddenly—so suddenly that you think it might actually surprise him more than you—he does.
The Mandalorian cums. Hard. In your hand, right there on the floor, dark clothes bloody and prestigious armor halfway ripped off his body.
A ragged gasp tears through the modulator and his back straightens, the chin of his helmet lifting off the ground a few inches with it and his balls pulling up deliciously tight under your palm. Warmth immediately begins to coat your fingers in throbbing spurts as he clangs a clenched fist against the hull, growling the first part of your name before it turns into a savage, wordless snarl.
You bite down on his back and moan with him, caressing the swollen head of his cock as it pulses spectacularly in your hand. His orgasm is long and achingly slow, draining his body of its dwindling energy with every thick rope of cum you’re able to milk out of him. He gasps and swears his whole way through it, until he finally exhausts every last reserve he has and collapses weakly to the floor.
With careful precision, you’re eventually able to remove your hands from his crotch. His back continues to rise and fall with quiet, steady breaths, clearly passed out from overexertion, but it does give you the opportunity and privacy to lick your fingers clean without feeling embarrassed for doing so in front of him.
Nope, no embarrassment, just so fucking turned on that you might actually die. He tastes absolutely divine—warm and masculine and gorgeously thick coating the shallow hills and shores of your knuckles. Following your own advice, you manage to stand on shaky legs and close the hatch of the ship, deciding you should probably plot a course for… somewhere, before trying to clean Mando up or dress his wound.
You take a second to look back at him, laying there in a gorgeously disheveled pile on the floor, dead asleep. It fills you with a surge of pride, being able to reduce such an untouchable, reputable bounty hunter to the level of any other man. You already want him again, you’re already addicted to the glorious power trip of feeling him let go and fall apart under your touch.
Later, you silently promise yourself, climbing the ladder to the cockpit. Later.
Edit: Read part two, Heaven in Hyperspace here.
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#reader insert#smut#the mandalorian x you#this is sin#whoops my hand slipped#pedro pascal#no-droids#fanfic
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Black Coffee & Sugary Sweets - Part 1
Paz Vizsla x OFC (Bri)
Rating: T |||| Word Count: ~800 |||| The Mandalorian Café Modern AU |||| Masterlist
A gift for @maybege 💕
Summary: A construction worker walks into a cozy café one morning...
A/N: I picture Paz as Winston Duke, and I describe him with those characteristics. Totally fine if you picture a different fancast, but please don’t be surprised if I use certain terms that apply more to Duke than to other fancasts.
[hi I couldn’t wait to post this so here we are! I’m thinking five parts, some long and some short, but hopefully you’ll enjoy them! It’s just a lot of fluff. This fic will remain T. The gif is a place holder until I find something more fitting haha]
“Hiya, Bri!”
Bri smiles widely at the tall woman who’s stepped away from the register to watch her mix drinks over the counter. Brunette hair neatly in a bun, designer sunglasses, freckles dotting her nose: this is Andrea, and her coffee mix is the one currently being heated up.
“Good morning, Andrea! I got your usual just about ready to go,” Bri replies cheerfully. Andrea is some sort of executive in one of the buildings just down the block and never misses a morning stop in for coffee. Bri’s always in awe of her business attire: she manages to make professional outfits look so effortless. Meanwhile, Bri isn’t sure if she even owns a set of jeans without a dash of paint on them.
“Always on time, you are,” Andrea teases before briefly glancing down to where her phone buzzes in her hand. There’s always something urgent claiming her attention in the morning and having her hustle off to work, something that’s easy to empathize with in the routine chaos of the cafe. Bri simply pours the now-ready drink into the refillable thermos Andrea had set on the bar, seals it up tight, and slides it back her way with a wave before moving onto the next order. Andrea calls a farewell over her shoulder as she leaves, but it’s lost in the growing chatter of the other patrons in the shop.
She’s working on the next pair of orders– Tom: frappuccino with whipped cream and Gabby: chai tea with two espresso shots– when Max calls her over to the register. Her curiosity is piqued: Max is one of her fellow seasoned employees and almost never needs help with a customer, unless… could there truly be a newbie, this early on a Wednesday?
Bri finishes the two drinks in a timely manner and sets them on the counter and calls out the names she’d scrawled on the sides as she turns to help her friend. Max gestures his hand under the counter towards the register, and she turns eagerly to see who’s order she’ll be adding to her mental list next–
Oh. It’s him. The very reason she’d been staring out the window all morning!
He’s tall and broad, flannel shirt buttoned tight across his chest (part of her wonders how the buttons haven’t popped off yet) and covered by a worn leather jacket to account for the morning chill. His hair is covered by a navy blue ball cap, but his dark eyes observe her curiously from underneath the brim as she gazes up at him. Something in her expression– or maybe it’s just her face?-- seems to take him by surprise, and his stare darts towards the floor while he awkwardly shoves his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Oh, you came in the other day at lunch!” Bri declares, more for Max’s benefit than her own. “Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to learn your name and order yet, otherwise Max would’ve sent you right along.”
“S’fine,” the man assures them both, tilting his head back up again. From the angle, she can tell he’s reading from the menu that hangs above the bar.
Max seems to take pity on his indecision. “Don’t mind the menu: just tell Bri whatever it is you like, and she’ll make it! She’s the best barista here.”
She does have time to do more than grip Max’s wrist in silent thanks before the man returns his attention to her, tips his head slightly to the side, and speaks up in his low, rumbling voice. “Just a black coffee is fine. Large, please.”
Simple, polite, and straight to the point. She’ll take it.
“Got it!” She hustles off to fill his order, and since she saw Mr. Trant in line behind him, she starts on his regular tea blend as well. The new man finishes paying with Max and then moves off towards her side of the bar, hovering quietly while he watches her work. She doesn’t mind his presence; most of the customers remain nearby if they’re waiting for a to-go order.
When his coffee is ready, Bri doesn’t set it on the counter. Instead, she holds it up and raises an eyebrow in question, beckoning him closer. Their fingers just brush against each other as she hands him the large disposable cup over the divider, and she tries to hide the butterflies that take flight in her stomach with a friendly smile.
“You never did give me your name, y’know. How else will I remember your order for next time?” She teases.
His eyes widen and he looks ready to bolt, if Mr. Trant hadn’t overheard from where he stood and sighed loudly.
“Just tell her your name, son. She knows us all around here!”
The man glances between Mr. Trant and Bri incredulously for a moment before he offers her a shy quirk of his lips in return. “It’s Paz. Thank you, miss.”
Bri waves. “Nice to meet you! I hope you have a good day–” and because she knows Mr. Trant only has so much patience for such frivolous behavior, she quickly passes over his order as well, “--and it’s all ready for you to go too, Mr. Trant.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she spies Paz at the coffee station, dumping a packet of sugar into his opened black coffee. Three empty packets already lay discarded next to his cup, before he sweeps them all into the receptacle.
Paz: black coffee and an unhealthy amount of sugar. She won’t be forgetting him.
~~~~~
When she proclaims his order as such the next morning as he waits hesitantly from his spot over the counter, Paz unwittingly grants her a full grin. It’s like the sun coming out for the first time after a long winter, and Bri can’t wait to draw another one out of him.
#paz vizsla x oc#Paz Vizsla#the mandalorian#modern au#café au#star wars#fanfiction#heavy infantry mandalorian#Winston Duke#construction worker!Paz#fluff
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So I’m hearing impaired. I hate using my hearing aids because they’re uncomfortable and all they do is make what you can hear louder. I feel like I’m being yelled at when I wear them 🙃 I lipread a lot and I do sign with close family and friends. How would the boys do with that in a s/o? Thx 🤟🏻💕
I didn’t realize that’s how hearing aids “improved” hearing. That’s interesting to know!
Head Canon Masterlist
When You’re Hard of Hearing
Whiskey: His first idea is to go to Ginger to see if Statesman can help construct a better hearing aid, one that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being shouted at and is a little less bulky or uncomfortable for you. (”Jack, stop misusing Statemen funds.” “Never, Ginge, love you kthanksbye”) If you don’t want that, or if Ginger isn’t able to do something like that, Jack starts changing how he sits with you and talks with you. He faces you more directly, and almost never looks away from you when he’s talking. he’s also trying to work on taming his drawl, knowing it can make his lips move in ways that aren’t exactly conducive to lip reading. As for sign language, if you’re willing to teach him, he’s willing to learn. But be patient with him, he struggles with signing a bit.
Javi: If they make you uncomfortable, Javi would rather have you have the hearing aids out while you’re at home with him. he always tries to move into your line of sight before touching you so you don’t spook from not hearing him coming. he also knows he mumbles, so when you tell him you lip read, he tries a lot hard to annunciate so you can better read his lips. There’s a translator at the embassy, and a few nights a week, you’ll notice him coming home later than normal. When you finally confront him and ask you why, he pulls a book on ASL and a book on Mexican sign language out. He’s been staying after to practice with the translator. If you don’t know Mexican sign, well, he’ll learn together with you. he wants to be able to woo you in both his languages, all the time cause he’s thoughtful like that.
Frankie: Frankie, as part of his reintegration from the military, has spent a fair bit of time at the VA with soldiers who lost their hearing over seas. They teach classes to teach ASL, usually reserved for the ones who are injured. However, when he explains that you’re the one with the hearing impairment, and he wants to be able to talk to you comfortably, the teacher decides to let him sit in on the sessions. Frankie is really excited about it, and comes home every day to practice with you, and it’s super endearing. Sometimes it slips his mind that you’re hard of hearing, because you can read his lips, so he’ll turn around to do something while talking to you only to turn back and see your bemused face and he freaks out a little bit, apologizing and restating what he had said before. He wants so badly to do right by you.
Ezra: You’re going to be learning how new words look on his lips, because his lexicon is astounding, and he intends to use it. He’s another type to move into your field of vision before touching you so as to not spook you, because he wants you as comfortable as possible around him. Signing is harder and modified for him since he can’t do the two handed signs anymore, and if you’re right dominant, his signs are mirrored from yours, but you two make it work. He’s the type to slip you notes as a form of communication because he thinks it's cute, even if you’re sitting beside him and could very easily just talk. He’s kinda cheesy like that.
Oberyn: Oberyn is a very quick learner, so when you tell him you’re more comfortable with signing and lip reading than anything that simply amplifies sounds, he takes to learning straight away. He’ll surprise you with everything he’s learned, and how quickly he’s picked it up, insisting on spending nights talking to you through sign language. He’s another mumbler, especially when he’s trying to keep things sultry in the bedroom, so he works on improving his annunciation when he’s talking to you so you can better read his lips. He wants you to feel comfortable and considered when you’re with him, so he will learn whatever he needs to to make that your reality.
Din: Din speaks a lot of languages already, what’s one more? He picks up Basic sign pretty quickly, you’re almost surprised. But then again, he’s your Mandalorian, he’s gotta be a quick learner. Before you join his clan, lip reading doesn’t happen, for obvious reasons, so he relies heavily on BSL to communicate with you, and that’s a very big driving force for him to learn as quickly as he can. Because you’re sharing the ship with him, he needs a way to call for you when you aren’t wearing your hearing aids, so he gets a bracelet made that hooks up to his vembrace. he can push a button and the bracelet will buzz, letting you know you need to go see what he needs. When the helmet finally comes off around you, he spends most of the time on the ship with it off so you can read his lips (and you definitely don’t mind that, he has a pretty face).
Pero: Anything besides an ear horn doesn’t exist in this day and age, and Pero doesn’t want you needing to carry one of those around with you. Not at home, and not in the village. He works with you, asking you to teach him how to communicate in your sign language so he can help you both at home and when you go out. He doesn’t mind playing interpreter for you, he actually quite enjoys it. What he really likes, though, are the nights where the two of you sit and talk and you just sit on his lap, watching his lips intently as he talks. He likes the attention a lot. No, no, don’t stop touching his face either. he likes that too.
Max: “You know what’ll fix that? Becoming a vampire.” It’s only partially a joke. He’s serious that the turning will rectify your hearing and make it better than it had ever been in life, but he also won’t force you to turn. That’s gonna be your choice on your time. He has a nasty habit of spooking you though, the asshole. he does show he cares though. He looks you head on when he talks, and while you’re sleeping, he’s teaching himself to sign. it takes you by surprise one day when he signs “you’re my favorite person” to you.
Maxwell: Money can buy many things, including the best medical treatment in the world. Maxwell would offer this to you; better hearing aids that are more comfortable and actually help you hear better, maybe even reconstructive surgery to help fix whatever issue in your inner ear is contributing to your difficulty hearing. He would gift the aids to you, but he wouldn’t force you to undergo surgery if you didn’t want to, but know the offer is always on the table. he looks directly at you when he talks, but as far as you can tell, he’s not working on learning sign, which is disheartening. That is, until your anniversary where he has some ridiculous monologue all planned out, completely in sign, to surprise you. It’s excessive, and there are some cute errors, but you love it just the same. AFter that, he signs with you more often.
Marcus: Marcus would immediately look for learning resources to teach himself sign language. He’d also work with the interpreter at work to practice with so he can talk to you in a way that makes you comfortable. He’s constantly asking if he’s speaking clearly enough, or if he’s signing things right, because he never wants to feel like he’s disregarding your hearing impairment. He even asks you from time to time to practice with him, or to teach him some of the slang that you know that may not necessarily be taught in the books. He also sets up a discretionary account. It’s a special account to save up for better hearing aids if any that ever strike your fancy enter the market. But if you’d rather just be as you are, he has no problem acting as interpreter if you wish to forgo the hearing aids in public as well.
#hcs#max phillips#pero tovar#agent whiskey#ezra#din djarin#maxwell lord#marcus pike#frankie morales#javier pena#oberyn martell#justanotherblonde23
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Shadows- Chapter Three
Shadows
A modern monster AU
Pairings: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Rating: T (at the moment- subject to change)
Warnings: Dark themes, canon-typical violence, descriptions of a dead body, desecration and disposal of a dead body.
Summary: Crypto- concealed; secret.
You have always lived your life in the shadows; after all, you’re one of the creatures who go bump in the night. He has sworn his life to a creed that aims to protect the world from monsters like you.
[Masterlist] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four]
Cross-posted on AO3
Satisfaction was not the right word, but it was the closest you could put your finger on as you watched the Mandalorian walk away. You had escaped his clutches twice now. While that was two more times that you would ever want to have a run-in with one of his kind there was still a sense of pride in being able to outmaneuver him. He dedicated his life to killing your kind but here you were, alive, while he was leaving without his target. A victory for you and Kira, no matter how small a success. Though that victory came with a bit of a mess. You and Kira needed to get the hell out of dodge. The gunshots and shouting would have already drawn attention from folks in the pub or out on the street. Which is exactly why you did not carry firearms for most jobs. Too messy.
“Hold this tight.” You’d had a spare scarf in your bag which was coming in handy. It would help staunch Kira’s bleeding long enough to get her into the clinic, so long as you had it tight enough.
Kira waves you off, “stop hovering. Take care of the body.”
As much as you didn’t need your partner bleeding out, she had a point. You had a body to dispose of.
There’s a routine to it. Stripping the outer layers, shoes, valuables and identifiers. The office had people who properly disposed of identification and could make nearly anyone disappear from any record or database. One less hassle you had to deal with.
You spread out the man’s coat and roll the cooling body onto it before ripping off the bottom of his shirt. Next comes the hand. Every slayer seems to have a preferred limb of extremity for proof of death. Some liked ears, fingers and toes, a tongue or an eyeball. You never could find the will to get that up close and personal with a corpse. A whole hand or foot was your preferred token. Easy enough to sever at the joint and it left plenty to identify the bounty with, keeping confusion to a minimum when you handed it over. In comparison it was just a bit harder to carry around and hide.
The man is only a few minutes dead, so the chop-job at the wrist makes a mess all over the bounty’s jacket. How you wished you had your clean up kit with you. Or more time. This was too rushed to be a proper job. The only upside to your location was its convenience-one dumpster at the ready. You toss the body, jacket and shoes before wrapping the hand up in the torn shirt. The last place you want to put the limb is in your purse but you’re out of options. Gross. Normally you had a proper bag prepared for this.
At least the bounty money would pay for a new bag.
Destruction was the last step. Fire was not your preferred method, it left too much behind, but you kept a lighter on your person at all times. Just in case. Though just a little zippo wasn’t going to cut it for a dumpster fire. Alcohol made a pretty decent accelerant and you were standing just outside a bar.
“You done yet?”
“Shove off,” you roll your eyes at the blonde. “You’re not exactly being much help.”
“Uh, bullet wound?”
“Excuses, excuses…”
Rummaging around the loading dock doesn’t help much, there’s no booze left out, which was probably smart on the pubs account. Most of what they had stored in the back looked like kitchen supplies and extra gas canisters for the bar. Those would provide more fire power than you were looking for and draw more attention than was good for such a rushed job. They would have to be your last resort.
“Hey Kira, what’s the flash point of cooking oil?”
“Average to low, I think.”
“Perfect.” You feel a little bad stealing the barrel but you’re in too much of a rush to dwell on it. “Drape my coat over your shoulders and take my purse, head back in and wait for me by the entrance. I’ll be there in a sec’.”
Kira winces a bit as she situates herself. Your coat just covers the blood stain blossoming across her shirt. Hopefully, no one in the pub looks too closely. Or checks the bag. “Got it.”
It’s not as easy as you’d like to hoist the plastic barrel into the dumpster, but you manage, albeit with very little grace. Popping the seal quickly covers the corpse and the rest of the dumpster’s contents in oil. All it takes is you dropping you lit zippo in for it to all go up in flames. Works almost a little too well.
.
“Why am I not surprised it was you two to run into the Mandalorian.” Rosalyn clicks her tongue as she goes about fixing Kira’s arm up with ever steady hands.
“(Y/N)’s a Mandalorian magnet, apparently.”
“Please don’t say that,” you groan. That was the last thing you needed. Mando had cornered you twice now and you did not want to see if the third time was charm for him. You wanted nothing more to do with the mysterious dark-haired man.
“But also an escape artist!” Kira grins despite Rosalyn’s ministrations.
The healer frowns, “she shouldn’t have to be. None of you should have to be. You’ve all got enough to worry about.”
Rosalyn, ever the worrier. Her big heart was the reason she became a nurse instead of a slayer in the first place. You’re not sure where you and the others would be without her. Scratch that, you knew Kira would be dead in a ditch without Rosalyn. She’d patched her up more times than either of you could count.
“We choose this life, Ros. We know the risks- Mandalorians and hunters are part of that risk.”
“None of us chose to be born into this life, to live in hiding from humans who want to kill us because we’re different,” Rosalyn’s voice cracks at the end, her eyes downcast.
She’s not wrong. None of you asked to be half-bloods, to be stuck in the in-between. There were few paths in life for your kind, all full of their own risks. But that was how your cards had fallen. You tried not to dwell on it, but it was not always easy. Some of the things you saw brought your circumstances to the forefront, the cruel indiscriminate nature of hunters being one of them. That had always been the biggest thorn in Kira’s side. Why she was so abrasive and hostile towards them.
“ ’M sorry, Ros. I didn’t mean it like that.”
The nurse forces a smile, “I know…I guess we’re all a little on edge lately.”
“That’s an understatement.” Kira gestures to her now properly bandaged arm, “think I will be now too.”
Rosalyn rolls her eyes, “just pay more attention. Or I’m not fixing you up next time you get shot.”
.
The compound was nearly up and running at full capacity. Families were settling in, supply stores were filling up, the armory stocked and so on. Din allowed himself a moment of pride watching the foundlings training in the yard- the next generation of Mandalorian hunters. It felt like lifetimes ago that he was one of them, day after day of drilling and sparring next to his brothers and sisters. Now Paz leads the training, passing on the wisdom and skills that had been passed to them by the warriors that came before. Passing on the knowledge of the monsters that stalk the world around them.
Monsters like her.
(Y/N)
That was what the blonde had called her.
Slayers, they had called themselves. None of what they had been taught mentioned slayers. There was nothing about monsters killing other monsters. Yet they’d called it their job. Were they some sort of twisted police force?
She certainly did not appear the type. But that’s how they all were. Appearing like something they’re not. Walking around in human skin, the monster swimming just below the surface. Din just had yet to figure what monster was lurking behind her sharp eyes.
“Din Djarin.”
If there was one person in the compound who knew more then he did, more than Paz did, it was the Armorer. Their coverts alor.
“Another successful hunt.”
The words taste like acid on his tongue, “no… I was interrupted.”
“Interrupted?”
“The woman who aided in the escape of the club owner showed up again.”
Armorer pauses, her face pensive, an expression Din does not see her wear often. “Is she tracking you?”
“No.” There was no way (Y/N) had managed to follow him. She’d fled after their first encounter anyways. “She said she was not our enemy.”
“Oh? You’re sure she’s one of them?”
Din nods, “I’ve seen her magic. And she called herself a slayer.”
Armorer’s eyebrows shoot up, “slayer?”
“Is that familiar to you?”
“Only in very old stories,” she muses. “They mimic us in some ways. They rid their kind of nuisances, ones who threaten to expose them, if the old stories are to be believed. I have never seen or heard of their kind otherwise.”
Nuisances. That seems to be what (Y/N) had been doing last night. Attempting to remove a sick criminal whose actions threatened to expose humans to the truth. So why had he never run into one of them until now? He was not new to hunting monsters. Din had a number of years under his belt now -that’s why he was the best in the covert- and he’d never seen or heard of them until he collided with her. Where exactly had they come from and why?
There always seems to be more mysteries with her involved.
“We will need to be vigilant for her and any others on future hunts.”
Din agrees. There could be no more surprises and no more escaped targets. He would not allow it.
.
“It is rather concerning on both accounts.”
You almost felt as if you and Kira were sitting in the principal’s office, about to be scolded for some dumb prank you’d pulled. Not that you’d ever pulled any pranks in school, or gotten in trouble for that matter. The circumstances of your identity meant you did everything in your power to stay under the radar. Quiet, polite, kept your head down. Your principal probably would not have recognized you back then. Yet you still couldn’t shake the odd sense of déjà vu you felt sitting Boss’s office.
“We’ll pass on the information about the bartender to the knights but if he’s gone this long without detection, it won’t be long before he comes back to us on the bounty list.”
“He’ll have a harder time hiding without his partner around to help.” It’s not much but at least even Kira was trying to be optimistic.
“We can hope,” Boss nods. “As for this Mandalorian… it appears your original concerns have been realized, (Y/N). We may need to be more proactive in monitoring the hunter, lest we have another Fett situation on our hands.”
Boba Fett had been a thorn in your office’s side for years before he’d died. Some of his targets had been known criminals with outstanding bounties, much like this new Mando, but others had been innocents, cryptos just going about their lives alongside humans. The community had been up in arms but there was not anything the office was allowed to do. Fett was human. It was the unfortunate circumstances you all had to navigate in your line of work. Your job was to catch criminal bounties, slayers had no power to protect other cryptos. Despite knowing that, locals had become rather upset with the inaction. There was a number of gathering places slayers had been banned from at the time in retribution. Time had smoothed over relations but the new Mando threatened to dredge everything back up again.
“Any luck on tracking down his informant?” If you could take his contact out of the mix maybe the Mando would skip town. There were plenty of other communities for him to terrorize. Other slayer’s bounties for him to steal.
Boss’s frown deepens, “nothing yet. The knights have been notified and we’ve got a few local leaders keeping their ears open. Someone will hear something soon.”
It had been over a month, if no one had heard anything by now you did not have much hope of anything new coming to light. You didn’t have it in you to contradict the old man though. No one wanted to admit they had hit a dead end.
“Is that all we can do? Pass it over to the knights and wait until someone else gets hurt?” Kira’s frustrations mirror your own. You both had trained for years before being allowed your three-year apprentice ship. To put everything you had into protecting your kind and taking down criminals and then to not have the power to deal with a Mandalorian was maddening. Just waiting on someone else made you want to tear your hair out.
#fic: Shadows#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x f!reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin#reader#the mandalorian#the mandalorian au#the mandalorian fanfiction#x reader#fanfiction#modern au#enemies to lover#monsters and monster hunters#chapter three#crystalessences writes
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Hi, I really enjoy your blog and your insights into the prequels. If you have time, could you explain a bit more about how the clone army was commissioned. I've watched the prequel movies and Clone Wars several times, but I'm still a little confused. The Kaminoans say Sifo-Dyas commissioned the clone army. Jango says he was hired by Tyranus (Dooku) and has never heard of Sifo-Dyas. And Obi-Wan thinks Sifo-Dyas was already dead when the army was commissioned. So what is the deal with Sifo-Dyas?
Sure, I tried to make a timeline. Maybe it’ll help see things a little more clearly :)
Before 52 BBY: Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas becomes close friends with Jedi Master Dooku.
52 BBY: Sifo-Dyas, along with Dooku and his apprentice Qui-Gon Jinn, attend a meeting where they meet Magister Hego Damask (Darth Plagueis). He and Hego discuss their worries about the future of the Republic. At some point during their talks, Plagueis suggest the need for a military force to keep the peace but Sifo-Dyas rejects the idea.
“Lest you’re thinking of investing in military enterprises, Magister, I can assure you that the Republic will not reverse its stance on demilitarization.” His words were forceful, but lacked certainty. “The Ruusan Reformations will not be repealed.” Plagueis showed the palms of his hands. “And I can assure you, Master Jedi, that my questions were in no means motivated by thoughts of profit. We—that is, I—don’t wish to see the Republic caught off guard. For now I’ll place my faith in the Jedi, and in the belief that an army could be raised if necessary.” Sifo-Dyas’s gaze faltered. “Out of thin air? Unlikely, Magister.” “Grown, then.” “Manufactured, you mean.” “No, I was being literal,” Plagueis said. “But I know of only one group that might be up to the task. The group who grew laborers to work the mines of Subterrel.” [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]
52 BBY to 32 BBY: Over the next 20 years as Dooku’s concerns for the Orde rand the Republic grew, so did Sifo-Dyas own worries. Like Dooku, he also tried to warn the Council about the approaching darkness but they didn’t listen to him. At some point he was invited to join the Jedi Council but his seat was removed after he considered too extreme for them.
“Prior to the blockade of Naboo, Sifo-Dyas sat on this Council until we judged his ideas to be too extreme. Indeed, he said he foresaw a great conflict and that the Republic would need to raise an army. At the time, the Council rejected those ideas.’ – TCW 06x10
During this period, Sifo-Dyas and Dooku meet Senato Sheev Palpatine from Naboo. After this, Dooku and Palpatine become friends, having many conversations about politics and the Jedi.
“By right of birth. My family is agreeable. Now it’s simply a matter of informing the High Council.” “Has anyone ever left the Order?” “Nineteen before me.” “Have you shared your discontent with any of them?” “Only Master Sifo-Dyas.” “Of course.” Dooku looked up. “He worries that I’m going to do something rash.” “Leaving the Order isn’t rash enough?” “He fears that I will denounce the Council openly, and reveal how divided its members are about answering to the Senate.” He looked Palpatine in the eye. “I’ve half a mind to join your cause.” [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]
32 BBY (right before the events of The Phantom Menace): Sifo-Dyas once again meets Magister Hego Damask, but this time he’s interested and willing to listen to what he has to say:
“You said that you have some vague recall of our conversation on Serenno. Do you remember my mentioning a group of gifted cloners?” “I’m sorry, I do not.” “They are native to an extragalactic world called Kamino. I have on occasion done business with them on behalf of clients who desire cloned creatures, or require cloned laborers capable of working in harsh environments.” The Jedi shook his head in uncertainty. “What does this have to do with anything?” “I believe that the Kaminoans could be induced to grow and train a cloned army.” Sifo-Dyas took a long moment to reply. “You said yourself that the Republic would never sanction an army.” “The Republic needn’t know,” Damask said cautiously. “Neither would the Jedi Order have to know. It would be an army that might never have to be used, and yet be available in reserve should need ever arise.” “Who in their right mind would fund an army that might never be used?” “I would,” Damask said. “Along with some of my associates in the Banking Clan—and in conjunction with contacts in Rothana Heavy Engineering, which would supply the ships, armaments, and other matériel.” Sifo-Dyas fixed him with a look. “Come to the point, Magister.” “The Kaminoans will not create an army for me, but they would do so for the Jedi Order. They have been fascinated by the Jedi for millennia.” Sifo-Dyas’s dark brown eyes widened. “You’re not proposing cloning Jedi—” “No. I have been assured that such a thing is impossible, in any case. But I have also been assured that a human army a million strong could be ready for deployment in as few as ten years.” “You’re suggesting that I circumvent the High Council.” “I suppose I am. The Kaminoans need only a modest down payment, which I could provide to you through untraceable accounts I maintain in Outer Rim banks.” Again, the Jedi remained silent for a long moment. “I need time to consider this.” “Of course you do,” Damask said. “And when you’ve reached a decision, you can contact me at my residence downside.” [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]
32 BBY: Qui-Gon Jinn dies and Master Dooku leaves the Jedi Order
32 BBY: Sifo-Dyas places the order on Kamino;
Obi-Wan turned to face Yoda. “Master, did Sifo-Dyas order the clone army?”
Yoda nodded. “Contacted the Kaminoans, he did.”
“Without your knowledge?”
“Without it, yes. But exists, a record of his initial contact.” [Labyrinth of Evil. James Luceno]
“And Master Sifo-Dyas?” Dooku frowned. “He knew that my leaving was simply a matter of time. Although he did say something I found to be rather curious. He said that if I had any designs on instigating dissent, he would be one step ahead of me.” [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]
32 BBY: Palpatine kills Plagueis and takes Dooku as his new apprentice.
Some time after that, Palpatine tells Dooku about the clone army, so he kills Sifo-Dias. After, he finds Jango Fett – whom he had fountgh in the battle of Galidraan – and convinces to become the template for the clone army.
One of your former confidants at the Jedi Temple has perceived the coming change, Sidious had told him. This one has contacted a group of cloners, regarding the creation of an army for the Republic. The order for the army can stand, for we will be able to make use of that army someday. But Master Sifo-Dyas cannot stand, for the Jedi cannot learn about the army until we are prepared to have them learn of it. And so with the murder of Sifo-Dyas, Dooku had embraced the dark side fully, and Sidious had conferred on him the title Darth Tyranus. His final act before leaving the Jedi Order was to erase all mentions of Kamino from the Jedi archives. Then, as Tyranus, he had found Fett on Bogg 4; had instructed the Mandalorian to deliver himself to Kamino; and had arranged for payments to be made to the cloners through circuitous routes … Ten years passed. Under its new Supreme Chancellor, the Republic recovered somewhat, then grew more corrupt and beset with problems than before. As best they could, Sidious and Tyranus helped things along. Sidious had the ability to see deep into the future, but there was always the unexpected. With the power of the dark side, however, came flexibility. Having traced Fett to Kamino, Obi-Wan Kenobi had turned up on Geonosis. All at once, here was Qui-Gon Jinn’s former Padawan, right under Dooku’s nose. But when he had informed Sidious of Obi-Wan’s presence, Sidious had only said, Allow events to play out, Darth Tyranus. For our plans are unfolding exactly as I have foreseen. The Force is very much with us.
22 BBY: Obi-wan Kenobi discovers Kamino and the Clone Army. The kaminoans have no idea Sifo-Dyas had been dead for 10 years or that he had nothing to do with choosing Jango Fett as the template.
In conclusion, the Sith manipulated a Jedi Master into creating an army for them to destroy the Jedi.
#ask#droidrightsbill#gffa politics#jedi politics#sw meta#worldbuilding#clone troopers#meta: clones#sifo dyas#count dooku#darth plagueis#meta: dooku#meta: plagueis#meta: palpatine#txt#palpatine
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What are your Bobasoka headcanons? I've already gone through all of the (criminally little) fic on ao3 and I especially loved Smothered and Covered, and I saw the majority of the fics in the tag were gifted to you so I'm assuming you're the OG shipper. Feel free to essay if you like!!
Thanks for the ask and kind words about that fic :3
Oh, Bobasoka … where to begin? It’s a pairing that’s been bumping around in exchange requests for a few years — I figure it’d be easy for anyone invested in Ahsoka’s relationship with the clones to be compelled by the idea. Lledra used to draw Boba and Ahsoka interacting, and it was probably a few panels of their incredible Destinies comic that set my Bobasoka wheels turning. I’m also drawn to them because their journeys traverse so much canon; there’s not just a sandbox to play in, but a whole goddamn stretch of beach, stretching far out into the horizon ... (#AhsokaLives #BobaSurvived :D)
I have to lead with the proviso that almost everything I write/daydream about/headcanon has a groundsheet of Rexsoka. Ahsoka’s interest in Boba, in my head, is intimately tied up with her attraction to and/or relationship with Rex — or, at the bare minimum, her intimate fellowship with the clones. She went through puberty (maybe with heats!) surrounded by a literal army of handsome, roughly college-aged dudes; that must’ve been a heady mix of heaven and hell. If she didn’t quench her thirst before war’s end and her (eventual) separation from Rex, she’d probably be pretty dehydrated when stumbling across Boba. As for Boba’s attraction to Ahsoka, well ... she’s very pretty, she’s potentially useful, she’s not likely to skewer him in his sleep (+2) on account of being a Jedi (-1), and now she’s the one down on her luck; if he falls in bed with anyone, why not this girl who isn’t afraid of him and stares a lot at his lips?
And Boba is like a hot shipping potato — satisfying, hard to fuck up, goes well (read: makes for an intriguing story) with almost everyone. And I think it has everything to do with his liminality, something he shares with Ahsoka and probably recognizes.
Their neither-this-nor-that-ness overlap in such interesting ways, and they each bring their identity issues to the table — Ahsoka as an on-again, off-again Jedi; Boba as a clone who isn’t a Clone™, a Mandalorian by birth and bearing, but not by the book. At different points in their stories, they identify as different things, and that would affect their headspace and color their view of the other. They wrestle with themselves and each other. Force-user and bounty hunter; privileged topsider and orphaned juvenile delinquent fugitive; GAR commander and outcast clone; Jedi and Mandalorian; Disillusioned veteran and disaffected army brat; Rebellion agent and Imperial contractor.
And as much conflict is baked into these dynamics, it also generates a certain magnetism; and I believe they recognize, on some level, their shared trauma and the symmetry in their experiences. Boba and Ahsoka both have happy childhoods with very little to distress or vex them (beyond the art, I do not jive with Age of Republic: Jango Fett, a Disney-canon comic that not only doubles-down on the Jango-wasn’t-Mando nonsense, but shows him being rather cavalier about Boba’s life); Geonosis happens and their adolescent lives are dominated by war (which is how they came to actively threaten each other as space!secondary-schoolers — whaaaaatf!); they are both dubiously (even wrongfully) imprisoned; and they both suffer alienation and incredible personal loss.
Boba was set apart from the clones before he was even pulled him from the jar, othered and elevated from the beginning. He never bonded with brothers, he does not identify as a clone. And while there are examples of clones making overtures to him, canonically his relationship with them is fraught and probably made worse when he gets banged up in Republic Central at the tender age of eleven or twelve — and of course, Ahsoka is an accessory to this, the second chapter in his tragedy at the hands of the Jedi. He needed help (whether he wanted it or not), it was not given by clones or Jedi alike (hamstrung by bureaucracy, sure, but surely some other means of intervention might have been lobbied for?), and Boba becomes a right teenage disaster, well-balanced only in the sense that he has a chip on both shoulders.
(n.b. Putting my RepComm hat on for a second, I can’t help but sniffle-laugh at the idea that the Alphas watched him get thrown in a maximum-security slammer and were like “Ah, there he is, the feral vod’ika. First time, we’ll let the little snot earn his stripes. Second time, we’ll bust him out and send him on a tough love retreat with A’den or Jaing.”)
Ahsoka, meanwhile, is part-and-parcel of the institutions that Boba sets himself against, even after she too has been cast out by circumstances beyond her control. She grows up in a supportive Jedi community and then spends some seriously formative years with a whole slew of brothers — brothers that should have been Boba’s!
Boba, on the other hand, is a great example of the proverb that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. (As he tells Hondo, “Why should I help anybody? I’ve got no one.”)
The resentment that must create! But also, later, the quiet empathy too — maybe when Boba’s having one of his better days and Ahsoka’s obviously not.
And all of the above is interesting enough, without also touching upon the wildcard that is Mandalore.
Boba’s relationship with Mandalore .... well, that’s contested in- and out-of-universe and I won’t allow myself to essay overmuch. I subscribe firmly to a Mandalorian Fetts construction of canon, even though Boba must be someone who struggles mightily with Mandalorian identity. He’s raised by a bona fide Mando, a solicitous, loving father who’d have no reason not to pass on his language and beliefs; but at the same time, it takes that village, and when Boba’s clan of two is shattered, he has no one else. The loss of his dad unmoors him from his only anchor to Mandalorian culture and clan.
If Boba had been close to the Cuy’val Dar, one would think he’d have turned to them rather than fall in with Jango’s criminal acquaintances; or maybe the bounty hunters just scooped him up first, and troubled lil’ Boba was shepherded through bereavement by folks who enabled and encouraged him to externalize his anger in a way that gave him a (false) feeling of agency and strength.
Whatever the reasons, Boba does not repatriate himself to Mandalore (much to Fenn Shysa’s melodramatic dismay). He strikes me as a lapsed Mandalorian; he doesn’t exactly follow the creed besides wearing the armor (scavenged? his dad’s sans helmet? canon is confused on this point, but he doesn’t go Mando until the unfinished arcs at the end of TCW, either for lack of stature, lack of armor, or lack of enthusiasm). I feel like if someone rocked up to Boba in a cantina and had the balls to ask “hey, so you a Mandalorian?” Boba would be like “<ominously slow helmet tilt> who’s asking” and never give you a straight answer.
Meanwhile, Ahsoka gets a crash course on Mandalore from none other than someone who, at one point, belonged to a sect that wanted to expunge Jaster’s legacy from the galaxy — and at the very least, had reason to dislike clones. This isn’t the place to explore my Boba/Bo-Katan feelings, but know that they are fathomless, and I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall of that Kom’rk when Bo-Katan gives Ahsoka Mando History 101 with her own special sauce. Ahsoka is probably more up-to-speed on Mandalore than Boba, and at one point, she may even own more beskar than him! (n.b. After the crash, I think one of the first places Rex and Ahsoka bounce is just inside Mando space, to scope out the Sundari situation and maybe try to scramble a signal to Bo-Katan; she’d have the goodwill to at least get them back on their feet if she can’t help them lay low herself. For a variety of reasons worth maybe ficcing down the line, they aren’t successful.)
I don’t really have a concluding statement except, I just think Bobasoka’s neat :) They hit all my depressed-Millennial buttons.
Headcanon by bullet-point isn’t really my style, but this is tumblr so ... tl;dr:
They recognize a lot in each other, even if they’re slow to admit it, if ever. Boba’s a cagey bastard and Ahsoka doesn’t ever like him enough to be emotionally honest.
They bump into each other during Ahsoka’s walkabout(s) ‘cause Coruscant’s Underworld ain’t big enough for the two of them. Without Slave-1, Boba couchsurfs at Nyx Okami’s garage, but he does his laundry at Rafa’s. He might even borrow the Martez’s new, useful friend for a job or two.
Ahsoka eventually matures enough to be sensitive about her use of the Force on and around clones, and she definitely doesn’t use it around Boba. Definitely not during sex.
Boba is privately weirded out every time Ahsoka uses Mando slang she picked up off the clones or the Nite Owls.
Boba absolutely kills Cad Bane in that shoot-out, keeps the hat, and lets Ahsoka have it. She shoves it out the airlock and uses it for target practice.
So many great smut flavours! Hatesex. Acquaintances with benefits. “You’re traumatized and touch-starved and you look just like him/them, and I know how to be gentle and what to do, so maybe we could … ?” They’re both privately comfortable with their bodies and sexuality, but Boba’s got trust issues a parsec long and Ahsoka’s lost confidence; it’s always an awkward affair, but desperation wins out.
They exchange comm codes every time they run into each other, which is kind of pointless because they both use burners.
Ahsoka hitches a ride on Slave-1 more than once. There really is only one bed, so it’s either sleep upright, sleep in a pokey prisoner hold, or sleep with him.
For a few years, Boba can pass as a last-generation clone — the ones that got sold off in bulk units to slavers before Kamino sunk another three years’ food, board, and training into them. Boba pretends he doesn’t notice, easy to really, since he tells himself his helmet is his face. But occasionally, when Ahsoka can convince him there’s profit in it, he agrees to play sleeper agent and assists in liberating a few here and there.
They don’t talk about Aurra Sing.
When an Imp really crosses him, Boba passes on intel to Ahsoka to ruin their day.
Once, when they’re both super skint, Ahsoka volunteers to get handed in to some relatively minor and out-of-the-way Imperial garrison, so Boba can collect, bust her out, and split the pot with her. It’s the closest she ever comes to telling him “I trust you” — and when he brushes the idea aside, citing something about risk, it’s the closest he ever comes to telling her “I love you.”
Boba sees Inquisitors as muscling in on his game. There are so many lousy Force-users around nowadays, it should be easy pickings, but Inquisitors get privileged information. So he makes sport out of misdirecting them, especially from Ahsoka.
When he pisses her off, Ahsoka fantasizes about Bo-Katan taking Boba down a peg or two while she watches :)))
Boba experienced Ahsoka’s heat once, secondhand through a cabin wall. He thought he was being clever by shooting Rex up with some Nevoota stim pollen, locking him in with Ahsoka, and hijacking their locked ships. Longest three days of his life, limping on broken hyperdrives and shared fuel stores to the nearest waystation to a soundtrack of violent lovemaking : \
Bounty hunters invariably bump into spies and agents because they work in the same areas. The agents pretend to be bounty hunters, eccentric business people, sex workers, or a range of other things. Sometimes each party knows all about the other, but it’s only polite not to mention it. This happens to Ahsoka and Boba A LOT, especially once she becomes Fulcrum; rebel cells and Imperials often want the same people. Occasionally they exchange fire. A couple times Boba gets imprisoned in Ahsoka’s own brig. Once, Boba blows her cover and definitely lives to regret it.
(this essay was originally punctuated with pics, but replies with images won’t show up tumblr tags so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
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I want you to answer A-Z on the fandom asks so I can peer into your psyche 👀
Wow I love you. This actually took around three hours since I wanted to think about the answers. See them under the cut!
A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.
From Hanyou no Yashahime — Sesshomaru and Rin
From The Mandalorian — The Mandomera’s been creeping up a little bit.
B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.
Honestly can’t think of one. I’m very set in my ships.
C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.
From Naruto — SasuSaku. Sasuke was cute as a kid so I get Sakura having a crush on him then, but I think she would have gotten over it when he became a homicidal clown who abandoned the village and tried to kill her and her teammates multiple times.
D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.
From Harry Potter — Ron x Hermione. I’ve always thought their personalities didn’t match and not in the good “opposites attract” kind of way.
E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?
I only know how to write angst, drama, and introspective musings so no.
F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?
Over fifteen years in the Harry Potter fandom, but I’ve had to separate that from JKR herself in the recent years.
G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?
“Have I ever had an OTP”? *laughs from shipping hell*
From The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare — Nat and Kit were my first OTP. Read this book in fifth grade and was immediately loved them. Boy literally risks banishment from the colony to help prove she’s not a witch.
H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?
I love visual media, so TV, anime, and film
I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?
I’m not going to let tumblr dot com put me off of a particular show/book/etc. itself, but it has definitely made me think less of certain types of fans who are in a fandom.
J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)
The...period drama fandom? More widely, the history fandom. They both create some of the most beautiful edits celebrating history and I love it.
K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?
From Avatar: The Last Airbender — It’s gotta be Prince Zuko
L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)
From Harry Potter — I think Ginny is a Mary Sue but I loved when she stood up for herself in Half-Blood Prince when Ron was trying to slut-shame her.
M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.
From Parks and Recreation — Leslie Knope. Unending positive affirmations, thoughtfulness, and support!
N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).
I don’t really have a main fandom but I haven’t mentioned Free! yet so let’s go with it for this one.
1. Less Nitori because I can’t stand him.
2. More female characters! I get half the appeal is the boys, but I’d love to see a girls swim team in some capacity.
3. More Haru and his family dynamics! Doesn’t have to be a ton, but I want to know what his relationship with his parents like, especially as an adult.
O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?
Salt and the Sea - The Lumineers. “From the destruction, out of the flame.
You need a villain, give me a name.” Such an Odesta song. (Finnick x Annie from the Hunger Games)
P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).
For The Mandalorian — A historical AU set in early 1900s New York City where Mando’s just some government agent sent to “report” on slum conditions to satisfy some housing law. He goes meaning to write up a generic report but then finds the orphaned Baby Yoda abandoned in one of the tenements. Shocked by the conditions of the slums, Mando goes from being an apathetic, middling-level bureaucrat to being an anonymous investigative journalist reporting on the corruption in the government that allows for the city’s most vulnerable citizens to live in squalor, leading the government on a search to find who within their ranks is exposing them.
Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.
Sherlock, because it just took so long for the third series to come out. I had moved on to other fandoms by the time it did. Still have fond memories of when I was active in it, though.
R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?
From Lord of the Rings — Aragorn and Legolas. This is played up a lot more in the films but I love it.
S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)
For Lord of the Rings — Boromir definitely taught Faramir swordplay when they were little kids since their father didn’t want to.
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?
From Hanyou no Yashahime — Rin made the first move. Sesshomaru would be way too clueless to even know how to go about it.
U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.
From Pirates of the Caribbean — James Norrington: Commodore in the Royal Navy during the 18th century, must I explain any further? Cool, calm, and collected on the job while looking v good while he does it but a nervous wreck in front of the woman he fancies. Tell me that’s not straight out of Austen.
From Star Wars (OT) — Luke Skywalker: An unapologetically good person in a crapsack world, doing his best to bring light into the world. A classic hero archetype who grows out of his naïveté to become a cunning—but still benevolent—Jedi.
From Prince of Tennis — Yukimura Seiichi: His duality is *chef’s kiss*. Super scary and in charge on the court, gentle sweet boy who loves art and culture off the court. He struggled for so long but was able to overcome it all through his hard work and willpower.
Bonus favorite, because I couldn’t resist...
From Band of Brothers — Doc Roe: He’s doing the MOST for his guys but he really just needs a hug. Plus he’s got the accent.
V - Which character do you relate to most?
From Little Women — Jo March, especially as portrayed by Saoirse Ronan in the 2019 adaptation. Writer, holds grudges, opinionated, stubborn, eschewed “girliness” in her youth but is more open to it and romanticism as an adult.
W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.
I’ve gotten to the point where even the hint of a love triangle tests my patience.
X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.
It’s about the yearning: Longing Look
Also will definitely always ship the Brooding Boy and the Gentle Girl
Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?
Anything in the MCU or general superhero content.
Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)
I love fandom so much. I’m sort of facetious about being obsessed with people who aren’t real on my other social media accounts, but in all seriousness, being able to escape the real world to get excited over characters and relationships that face their own struggles, triumphs, and emotions is such a gift. So often they speak so powerfully on the human experience—How can you read, or watch, any of Tolkien’s work and not be moved by what he has to say about humanity and the power of good? Even if the stories are fictional, the messages they impart about life aren’t, which is what I love so much about them.
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New Year’s Meme
this survey has been a tradition among my friend group for YEARS, but i haven’t filled it out since 2015 apparently. i’m not entirely sure why except 2016 was the year a lot of stuff changed for me, namely in that i finally got out of school in some form and started a new job, but i also had a few health problems that kept plaguing me (thyroid medicine being off, vitamin d) and my anxiety was all over the place. so here we go i’m doing it again and feel free to do it too if you want!!
1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before?
tried on wedding dresses. taught virtually. dealt (poorly) with drunk teenagers. performed in a pep rally. wore face masks all the time. i’m going to lump in living with someone. jon moved in october 2019, but i don’t think i did this quiz last year so. taught ap.
2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year?
i don’t really like resolutions. they put too much pressure on me and i am a fragile person when it comes to setting expectations and living up to them. i did want to try to read more this year, and i maintained that until the pandemic, and then just kind of gave up requiring myself to do anything but live.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
i don’t think so. a coworker did.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
jon’s cousin committed suicide in march or april. the circumstances were pretty upsetting. um. andy died in february, very suddenly. andy was my high school boyfriend for four years with whom i had a very... he scarred me in a lot of ways when it comes to sex and consent. it’s taken me a long time to unpack all of that. and i struggle with how much any of that was his fault or just bc he was a stupid kid too. our mutual friends had nothing but nice things to say about him on fb. anyway. he would guilt me into saying he’d kill himself if we broke up, and jon’s cousin killed himself over his girlfriend. so that was a complex part of the year.
5. What countries did you visit?
none. literally the week before the quarantine, we went to asheville to visit jon’s cousin.
6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020?
maybe a different job? or at least some peace at doing mine.
7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
march 13 we cancelled classes and had a technology training day; the 15th we had another one, and then we were virtual the rest of the term. it was such a sudden shift and while i so loved working from home tbh, it was such a relief after a supremely shitty january/february work-wise, i still had a lot of keyed-up, stressful days centered around transitioning to being the senior upper school spanish teacher. i hate it!
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
writing 50k in the month of november. i have literally never done that before and actively reject nano as being typically unhealthy for how my mind works, so it was nice to do it entirely by accident.
9. What was your biggest failure?
mishandling the drunken teenagers on that field trip in january.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
i sit crosslegged in my virtual teaching chair and i did it so much that my ankle hurt for the entire summer.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
we put a deposit on our elopement in ireland. jon’s wedding ring. (i didn’t buy my wedding dress.)
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
my best friend at work who keeps me sane and is represented by benny in my au, which other than the fact that he is not my sidepiece, is perfect he is crucial to my survival at work and i love him so much. (also he is gay and the french teacher so the benny parallels just keep coming). everyone who tore down a statue in virginia (and other places, but especially monument avenue). everyone putting their lives on the line during this pandemic.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
guess! but aside from all the obvious, i found out a friend of mine at work voted for trump. my work bff and i had been trying for years to sway his politics, but that had us both deciding to give up on him.
14. Where did most of your money go?
food, ALCOHOL. god., our savings account. i did a pretty excellent job saving this year, though a good deal of that is because jon moved in and makes more money than me, and also we split all the bills.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
my wedding dress but strangely only when i went to try it on after it came in bc after the purchase i was so sure i’d made every mistake possible. my wedding band. wellbutrin changing my whole life. and, last but certainly not least, the gay angel and the bi(lingual) hunter. i wouldn’t have survived nov-dec in school without that distraction. the election.
16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020?
the entirety of taylor swift’s oeuvre this year, maybe specifically “this is me trying”
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. Happier or sadder? happier, i suppose, perhaps contrary to what should be the case, but wellbutrin is a hell of a drug.
ii. Older or wiser? wiser.
ii. Richer or poorer? richer.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
reading. cleaning. exercising.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
stressing. chaperoning.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
so, an update; last year was the first year i didn’t go to my mom’s for christmas. i was supposed to see her for thanksgiving last year, but she basically told us not to come bc she wasn’t feeling up to it (cool!), and we went to jon’s for christmas and my mom’s for new year’s.
this year, obviously we couldn’t go to my mom’s. instead, we rented a little cabin by the lake. it was perfect; it was really really nice inside, the beds were SO SOFT, the pillows were the best things i have ever laid my head on, like i took off the pillowcases to try to find the brand. we had a little tiny christmas tree with tiny ornaments from walmart that we decorated. the 23rd, we went and picked up our wedding bands. we slept two nights in the (cold) back bedroom so i could wake up and look out at the lake. it snowed for christmas. :)
we opened presents on christmas eve, per jon’s family’s tradition. on christmas eve, we also went to his family farm and sat outside and hung out a little. every year his family does like a secret santa sort of thing and i got my first present in that exchange, which is notable bc jon and i are not yet officially married. i got a remote control car -- jon’s idea bc i couldn’t think of anything, and he was so delighted to hear that i loved playing with rc cars when we went to the beach as a kid.
christmas morning we facetimed my parents and opened some presents together. then jon and i marathoned mandalorian (after spending the previous few days watching several die hard movies), and then we watched wonder woman 1984 which was a bad movie.
21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve?
ok LAST year for new year’s, we were in a hotel room, so that was nice, bc it meant minimal stress with my parents. i had always wanted to go to this restaurant near us that has a special new year’s menu, so we did that. the night before or after i think we went to cheesecake factory, which was also amazing.
this year currently i’m tumbling and he’s playing pokemon, and in a bit we’ll try to time it so we finish schitt’s creek in time for the new year.
22. Did you fall in love in 2020?
i re-fell in love with supernatural so that was nice.
23. How many one-night stands?
0. i submit we should randomly change question 23 each year to something more relevant to any of our life experiences.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
what did i even watch this year. schitt’s creek. mandalorian. i mean obviously we know supernatural. the circle. are you the one (the queer season). pose. unsolved mysteries. we’re here! perry mason. watchmen. oh maybe that mcdonald’s monopoly fraud documentary. avenue 5. i’ll be gone in the dark. of those i think my favorite maybe is... pose or we’re here.
OKAY UM. on my 2014 version of this there were a bunch of questions about tv shows that i’m putting back in if only for the memories:
25. Which TV shows did you start watching in 2020?
the haunting of bly manor, which we still need to finish. derry girls.
26. Which TV shows did you let go of in 2020?
HERE’S WHY I WANTED TO RESURRECT THESE. here was my answer in 2015:
“supernatural. goodbye, my sweet prince.”
CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE
27. Which TV shows did you mean to get into but didn’t in 2020? Why?
so far, queen’s gambit and that one on hulu with catherine the great. EVENTUALLY.
28. Which TV shows do you intend on checking out in 2020?
fleabag. queen’s gambit.
29. Which TV show do you think you might let go of in 2020 unless things significantly improve?
idk i drop things pretty regularly if they don’t entertain me
30. Which TV show impressed you least in 2020?
GUYS HERE’S MY ORIGINAL 2015 ANSWER:
“supernatural. :(”
anyway back to the rest of the quiz:
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
every person who refuses to listen to facts and information.
26. What was the best book you read?
killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the fbi, or the his dark materials series.
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
well i knew about tswift so i’m not going to count her albums. i will count this song that jon played for me once in the car that got stuck in my head for two weeks straight and led me down into a great related-songs spotify playlist: through the roof ‘n underground.
28. What did you want and get?
a wedding dress and a very specific kind of wedding band. a gay angel. a christmas getaway. animal crossing.
29. What was your favorite film of this year?
idk i don’t know how many films i saw this year. maybe mucho mucho amor: the legend of walter mercado
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
i was 32. we went to an escape room with a BUNCH of people -- work bff, my old work bff and his wife (old bc he quit and we’ve fallen out of touch :(), the cool new physics teacher and his fiancee, and the aforementioned trump voter and his wife, before we knew... we went out for brunch/lunch after. it was pretty great!
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
not having to chaperone that school trip in january. dean being bi in english as well as spanish. cas just ilke, appearing in 15x20. not having to physically go back to work this fall.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020?
no! real! pants!
34. What kept you sane?
jon. supernatural (in a way?). animal crossing for a while. wellbutrin! i haven’t really been able to detail this yet, but finally i did something about tumblr and my therapist making me think about adhd. my doctor gave me wellbutrin (bc i lack any official diagnosis and was on anxiety meds anyway, and he was like let’s try this!) and it’s fucking. it’s a fucking godsend. surprisingly enough, my students. trying to provide them a safe space has been a calming thing for me.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
jensen ackles’ silence. misha collins again, i guess.
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
the summer was so fucking intense. i guess though it was me trying to exert my influence in a responsible way with my students without trying to try to make them feel uncomfortable but then one kid was a vocally upset trump supporter after the election and i had to try to defuse that situation.
37. Who did you miss?
my old work bff. several old friends that i’ve fallen out of touch with bc i have no object permanence.
38. Who was the best new person you met?
people i met through the spn resurgence!
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020:
if you manifest it in an au, it will come. no really though. maybe that expectations are only as important as i make them out to be.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
usually i have a hard time coming up with anything for this and i default to looking at my most played songs of the year. my most played song of the year received each and every one of its plays within the month of november and you can guess why. anyway see if this works
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met
- the night we met, lord huron
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Can we get more of that time-travel fanfiction? (With maybe a few more clones? If you don't want to it's ok)
Hi. Here is the next installment. The clones get a bit of action, but really I needed to do one more chapter of set up first. Clones will be much more prominent soon.
-----
As soon as the doors of the light freighter - which Mace could now see had clearly been modified as a smuggling ship - closed, the girl turned on Obi-Wan with a guarded expression.
"How did you know just who we'd want here for our explanation?" she demanded, her question immediately causing the others in her party to tense.
Mace spied Cody and Ponds, who had escorted them in, no doubt to provide an extra layer of protection for their generals, whilst the non-Force Sensitive human had frowned, but acquiesced to their presence with a nod.
Obi-Wan, ever the smug bastard, just smiled knowingly.
"Your mental channels for speaking are very strong, but you all still project some thoughts," he informed them gently. "It was quite easy to overhear them - thought I was the only one close enough to."
The girl pursed her lips and squirmed slightly, but she nodded and stepped away, retreating so that she was standing in line with the two other humans of their party. The Wookie had retreated from the room they were in with a garbled roar that Mace hadn't understood, as he had not elected to learn Shyriiwook in his time. However, Obi-Wan had not reacted, so Mace assumed that the Wookie would not harm them.
Obi-Wan quickly explained what he and Bail had seen and learnt back in the temple.
Mace would find time travellers from the future difficult to believe if it wasn't Kenobi. At this stage in the war, he may as well just accept it. He was too tired to summon the appropriate amount shock, even if he was inclined to show it on his face, which he wasn't.
This was meant to be a simple mission.
"We may as well sit down," the male Force User - Finn - said. "We have over fifty years of history to cover."
His companions nodded in agreement, gesturing to the various couches around the living space. They waited until they were all seated, including Cody and Ponds before they all squished themselves onto one side of seat shaped in a semi-circle around a holoprojecting table, with Bail and Obi-Wan on the other side and Mace, Cody and Ponds on their own chairs that had been pulled up to the table.
"Where do we start?" Finn wondered absently, as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
The other human male - Poe - hummed. "I know that General Leia has been teaching you and Rey about the Clone Wars."
"She's been telling Rey about the politics and the Jedi for longer - I was usually only around when she got to talking about the clones."
Both men glanced at the girl, who was sitting on the right edge of the seat, next to the male Force User, who was sitting in the middle. Rey sighed and stood up but didn't complain.
"I may as well get straight to the point," she began, crossing her arms. "The Clone Wars are pointless and were constructed, and are being drawn out by the Sith for the sole purpose of destroying the Jedi and for cementing their reign over the galaxy."
Cody and Ponds stiffened in their seats.
Mace blinked. He felt Obi-Wan's shields wobble.
Senator Organa straightened. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's true," Poe said. "His Empire lasted twenty years before the Rebellion managed to defeat him."
"So the Separatists won?" Ponds asked with a slight frown.
Rey grimaced. "Not exactly."
She hesitated, obviously choosing her next words carefully. "The clones were supposedly commissioned by a Jedi who had visions, or something along those lines, right?"
Mace fought to keep his expression under control. That information wasn't exactly public knowledge.
"That is correct," he confirmed. "Master Sifo Diyas."
The girl's hands tightened around her arms and she shifted onto her other foot.
"The… accounts are not sure, but it is theorised that his visions were planted by the Sith Lord… or that Darth Tyrannus took control of the project quickly enough to alter the original order."
She took a deep breath. "The few surviving sources say that that after the main Separatist leaders were killed, that the Jedi discovered the identity of the remaining Sith, but those that were dispatched to arrest him were defeated - betrayed by one of their own, who allied himself with the Sith at the last moment."
"Then," she went on, breaking off for a second to glance nervously at Ponds and Cody. "He activated an order on the control chips, which are embedded inside every clone troopers' head."
Her eyes lowered and she swallowed. "Order sixty-six: execute all the Jedi."
Mace went completely still even as he saw Cody and Ponds recoiled as if she had shot them. Obi-Wan's eyes widened and shock reverberated through the Force, mixing with Mace's own.
"You lie," Senator Organa claimed. "The clones are loyal to the Republic."
The girl's head snapped up, a glare flashing through her eyes and hardening her features.
"I do not."
She looked away, breathing deeply.
"We have proof," Finn interjected. "History books, recordings, diaries. They should be tucked away somewhere around here. We always carry out study material with us."
"Our two clearest sources of information on it are the diaries left by you, Senator Organa and General Kenobi," Poe explained, looking at them. "I know General Leia has had Rey read them closely."
Obi-Wan's gaze jerked to them. "I survived?"
Poe nodded. "Until almost the end."
"It wasn't your fault," Finn informed Cody and Ponds, his voice strained as he stared at them desperately. "The chips. They-they overtook you. They erased you. You didn't have a choice."
Mace could tell from the horror leaking into the Force around the troopers that his words brought them no comfort.
"Who is the Sith Lord?" Mace asked.
Rey looked at him, breaking out of the haze she had been lost in.
"Palpatine," she breathed. "Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord."
Mace instinctively wanted to deny her. The Chancellor couldn't be the Sith Lord. He was the most powerful man in the Republic.
And yet.
There had been many instances in which Mace had, privately, questioned his decisions. He knew that a few of the 'debates' he had engaged in with the Chancellor had hurt their standing with him. But none of the Senate, nor many of the Republic citizens, were willing to trust the Jedi anymore.
And who had been the one to suggest that the Jedi lead the war. The Chancellor had denied his involvement but the man had not discouraged the idea when it had quickly gained popularity.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mace saw Obi-Wan tense.
"What is Anakin's role in all of this? You talked of him with each other."
Poe glanced down and Finn's jaw tightened.
Rey turned her attention to him, her eyes holding a deep regret.
"No," Obi-Wan breathed, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.
"Darth Vader was one of Emperor Palpatine's most effective weapons," Rey murmured. "But, at the very end, he did turn back to the light. To save his son."
Obi-Wan curled into himself and Mace felt the wave of pain and sorrow pulse out of him before the other master slammed his shields back into place.
"We are here now, though," Rey said firmly. "None of that has happened yet, and our knowledge can help you stop it."
"Yes," Finn agreed readily, still looking mostly at Cody and Ponds. "We can start to de-chip the clones and work on a way to deactivate them en-masse."
"It won't be easy," Poe cautioned. "Didn't you guys tell me that the Jedi were powerless to prevent their fate, even if they had known about it?"
Rey frowned and nodded. "Yes. They do not have the political power to make any significant move. Which is why we need the senators to start working. We have the information they need to start changing the system. They just need to get the physical evidence in this time period."
Senator Organa glanced around at his still shocked companions, and cleared his throat, startling all three of the time-travellers.
"You said it took around two decades to defeat the Empire, yet you are from fifty years in the future. What is the state of the galaxy in your time?"
Mace nodded his agreement with the questions.
Poe let out a shaky sigh. "Yes, the Empire was defeated the first time. Though not without heavy casualties. Alderaan was destroyed. The Mandalorians were wiped out almost as thoroughly as the Jedi. Countless lives were lost. And we still could not prevent the First Order rising from its ashes."
It was the Senator's turn to jerk back in surprise in pain. "Alderaan was destroyed?"
Poe nodded. "Yes, by a weapon called the Death Star. Capable of destroying whole planets. Luke Skywalker and his twin, your daughter, Leia Organa helped destroy it, along with the second one they built a few years later."
Rey went on, "Finn, Poe and I were there when its successor, Starkiller Base, was destroyed. Not after it destroyed the Hosnian System, the capitol of the New Republic first though."
"Though Poe did all the heavy lifting with his X-Wing," Finn said, shooting a smile at the man beside him.
Poe gave him a fleeting smile in return, barely a twitch of the lips.
"It wasn't enough though," Poe murmured, his voice thick. "The Resistance was losing. Many planets would rather submit to another tyrant than fight, and there was nothing we could do to stop them from invading systems and growing their army."
Finn stared hollowly at the table in front of him. "The Empire's stormtroopers were a poor mockery of the original clone troopers, meant remind Imperial citizens of them but have very little of their effectiveness save in their overwhelming numbers. But the First Order's stormtroopers… we were modelled more closely to our predecessors. Taken from our planets as mere children and raised to be the perfect little brainwashed soldiers. They even started chipping us in the end, when more and more started to defect - refusing to carry out the horrors they asked us to."
He stopped abruptly, looking down at his lap and taking a deep, shuddering breath as Poe rubbed a hand across his back.
Rey smiled at him sadly before turning purposefully to Senator Organa.
"I have little love for the Senate," she claimed and Mace had to suddenly suppress a smile at her frankness. "It failed to protect the Republic twice in fifty years, and all because of its corruption and general uselessness. However, Leia has told me stories of senators who could have changed it, if they were given enough time and manoeuvrability. I'm sure we have more than a few political texts that can inform you of just what corruption is being hidden in the shadows and behind the closed doors of the rotunda."
Senator Organa, who had paled drastically since the start of the conversation, swallowed and nodded. "I think you are right."
Poe smiled sharply. "I'll start looking for some of our books."
With that, he pushed up off the couch, sliding over Finn's lap and left.
"We will contact the Jedi Council, but what of your stories?" Obi-Wan asked. "What of your training? Surely some Jedi survived."
Rey shrugged. "I heard that a few did. Many of them died during the Rebellion. Most of the survivors were wiped out by the First Order when they destroyed the New Jedi Order. Any remaining would have gone into hiding, and I haven't exactly had the time nor the opportunity to look for one. Besides, Luke Skywalker has been… assisting me with using the Force. He was going to take Finn on as a padawan any day now."
Mace frowned. "Not you?"
Rey gave him a close-lipped smile, something in her eyes causing Mace's gut to twist. "Master Skywalker does not think I am suited for the path of a Jedi. And he may be right. I… I struggle with control. Of my powers and my emotions. And I know that anger can be dangerous when accessing the Force. I have spent hours almost every day meditating for the last eight months and I still haven't made much progress."
Finn scoffed. "That's a load of banthashi - er - I mean, that's not true and you know it. Besides, you're a lot less angry than most would be in your situation."
Mace tilted his head to the side, his mind whirling. They were both already very powerful, especially Rey. Shatterpoints surrounded all of them as if they had smashed a dozen glass bottles at their feet. They would need to be trained, regardless of their suitability. Their connection to the Force was open too far for them to go untrained.
But, he would like to know if they could really grow to be suitable Jedi.
"Situation?" he questioned.
Rey looked to him and smiled sadly again, her dark grey eyes becoming shiny.
"My parents… sold me to the junker on Jakku when I was five years old and I spent the next fourteen years waiting for them to come back."
Mace's eyes widened and he felt everyone around him look sharply to the girl. However, before they could touch anything, there was a tumultuous crash which had a panel in a door swinging open and small one-wheeled droid with a cone-shaped head come barrelling out of it.
"D-O," Rey greeted quietly, kneeling down as the droid approached her.
"Rey," the droid said, "I missed you."
Rey smiled and carefully smoothed out one of the three antennas poking out of the back of his head.
"I can't believe you brought him along," Finn muttered.
"I wasn't very well going to leave him. He doesn't like being away from me for long."
Finn hummed non-committedly. "You know, you never told us where you got him. He just turned up after that mission you and Jess went on a few months ago and started following you around."
Rey stilled, glancing up at him as she stood up, rubbing at one of the arm bindings that ran up her arms.
"I found him on my parents' ship."
Finn pursed his lips. "So they're - "
"Dead. Yeah. The First Order got them. Or the Empire. Whatever they were calling themselves then. The chest has everything they left to me. I haven't been able to read through all the datasticks yet."
Finn nodded solemnly as Rey joined him on the couch.
"I think Finn would make a great Jedi," she announced. "We've been looking at what little we could find of you, and he's everything you want. He's kind and thoughtful, and doesn't let his emotions overwhelm him."
Finn rolled his eyes. "All of that could describe you as well."
He looked between Obi-Wan and mace seriously. "She talks of how her power could lead to the dark side, but if she was going to Fall, she would have done it by now. Something awful happened on Dandoran, but she didn't let it affect her and managed to pull like three and a half dozen TIE fighters right out of the air. At once. There was no dark side; she was calm as a desert."
Mace felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. That was not small feat. Even for the most skilled of masters.
"It's not like you haven't had to do your job before when Poe was being threatened," Rey shot back.
"Yes, well, he hasn't…" Finn trailed off before he could finish the sentence, but the damage was already done.
Rey's expression crumbled and she looked away, needing to scrub at her eyes before she looked back up.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I think we've heard enough to tell the Council. And we have just enough time to comm them before we must leave. Regardless of the outcome, I imagine you will be leaving with us."
-----
The meeting did not actually take that long. They used their most secure lines and still did not dare reveal the full extent of what they'd been told, only that they had uncovered something of import regarding the Senate and that they would convene with any councilmembers physically on Coruscant as soon as they returned.
As for the time travellers? Not unexpectedly, the Council voted to train the Force Users, whilst allowing the others to accompany them. It did not seem like a good idea to separate them. Especially if they found a way to return them.
They, of course, would not be telling the Senate that the newest padawans of the Order were time travellers, at least from the future. Officially, the group had been caught in a stasis trap for hundreds of years, which was only released by Commander Cody accidentally brushing a specific rune. It would explain their unusual ship, which was actually not that old, but had been modified beyond recognition from its original model, and it would explain their lack of training, as the Jedi had not always had the reach to collect as many Force Sensitive children as they did.
"Now, we must decide who will train them," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his chin as the session began to draw to a close.
"Decided, it already has been," Yoda announced.
Mace glanced at his companion before they returned their attention to the holoprojector.
"By whom, Master?" he asked, keeping his voice level.
"Brought them to you, the Force has. Train them, you must."
Mace sighed. He knew he was going to say that.
"We are both far too busy to properly train a padawan, Master," Obi-Wan tried to reason only to be stopped by an imploring look.
"The best choice, you are. Sense it, I can."
Obi-Wan pursed his lips, but had no argument to that.
Then, Yoda had the gall to laugh.
"Stick together, you two will, for the foreseeable future, whilst you train your new padawans."
Mace was going to kill him. The Force knew he loved and respected Obi-Wan as a friend and fellow master, but that did not mean he wanted to be partnered with him, which would also, inevitably mean being partnered with Skywalker more often, especially after recent revelations. The man was a trouble magnet if Mace had ever known one.
Even if he didn't hate the idea of training them.
--------
This is also on ao3. What do you think will/want to happen next?
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#my fics#Getting Drop Kicked by the Force#tcw fanfiction#star wars the clone wars#the clone wars#finn#rey#poe dameron#commander cody#mace windu#obi-wan#ponds#star wars the sequel trilogy
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