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penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

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No Matter How Many Skies Have Fallen

A/N: I really have nothing to say for myself at this point.

Sequel chapter to this fic here, if you’d like to catch up.

Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv for being my incredible beta and to @maybege for letting me rant to you and giving me so many wonderful ideas when I hit my walls. Also to the Obi-Wan fandom in general: Y’all are some of the kindest, most supportive people I’ve ever encountered on this hell site. Thank you for your support and your content!

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force Sensitive! Fem! Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 11.9K (I lost all control)

Warnings: SMUT!!! Soft Dom! Obi rights, Also, Sub! Obi vibes, Foodplay (but not how you’d think), Inappropriate use of the Force, Voice Kink, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Hands Appreciation Society, As Usual: Too Many Feelings For Porn, Emotional Competence Kink, Trust Kink, TW: Pregnancy, TW: A character draws blood on themself unknowingly

Title from one of my favorite quotes:

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

What infinite irreverence the galaxy has for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

As if his master and only semblance of a parent wasn’t taken from him when he needed him most.

As if a boy who needed a father wasn’t entrusted to Obi-Wan quickly following, far too young and full of his own loss.

As if he wasn’t thrust onto the pedestal of parenthood when he really only wanted to be a brother.

As if that isn’t what they became anyway, and as if that wasn’t the exact cloud that hung over the atmosphere of your lives ever since you’d arrived on Tatooine.

As if the being whose life signature resided in your abdomen didn’t throw a punch into each of those blooming bruises by its very existence.

Which is why, you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you couldn’t tell him yet.

Normally, it’d be no small feat to keep something of this scale from him. But these days, he’s so focused on having his shields up around you, keeping you from both being hurt by or helping with his torments.

You have to take great care to control your body language, because even when he’s shut off from you in the Force, his keen perceptiveness will pick up on something being off anyway.

The art of a convincing lie is having layers. If he senses your feelings and decides to dig, then only give up one layer, and he’ll stop looking.

In this case, it’s your worry over him. It is true you’re trying to shield him from feeling that, not wanting him to carry the burden of it on top of having to work through his own pain.

But it’s not everything you’re trying to hide from him. So you let a small projection of your fear over his well-being escape, like you’re losing control of your feelings. It’s enough to convince him, and something critical inside you dies at the victory every time.

He deserves your honesty, and you’ve never given him anything less until now.

You hate how well your strategic deceit takes root. Because only part is due to your talent as a liar. The rest comes from how much he trusts you.

You’re not stupid, though. You know it’s only a matter of time before the biological changes in your body betray you.

Obi-Wan said he needed time, and you’re going to give him as long as you possibly can before dropping this anvil on him, hoping the further he gets from it all, the better off he’ll be.

You could kick yourself for not being more careful. You hadn’t missed any dose of your herbal Ho’Din contraceptive. It was one of the few things you shoved in your bag with the mere minutes you had to leave Coruscant for good. It was from a reliable medicinal shop, and there’s no good reason it should have failed in any way.

But here you were anyway.

Of course, there are options that free you from the obligation of carrying the child to term. All are expensive, and Tatooine is sorely lacking in any trustworthy medical facilities. The alternative methods could put your own life in danger as well.

Even if it wasn’t, you’d feel so strange making that kind of decision without Obi-Wan. Not that he wouldn’t support whatever decision you needed to make for yourself if you did, but going behind his back is something you’re not sure his trust could recover from.

And really, far too much has been decided for him in his life.

The worst reason why you can’t bring yourself to move towards any solution that ends the pregnancy now, the reason you abhor, is because somewhere within you, despite the awfulness of the time and place, you want this baby.

You couldn’t give a definitive explanation for yourself, but you did. Undoubtedly

Obi-Wan doesn’t press when you ask to cease your combat training for a time, asking to start learning the new offerings of the Jedi texts instead.

He’s concerned when you tell him, but if he’s suspicious as for your reasoning, he doesn’t show it outwardly, at least.

The way he doesn’t even ask about why, though: It makes you wonder if he had a reason all of his own why he’d rather not fight, even in imitation.

The Jedi writings given to Obi-Wan by Master Yoda are often more cryptic and mystifying than logically applicable without deciphering, which you are at first annoyed by, but then strangely thankful for, as Obi-Wan verbally processes his understandings of it, knowing what he does of the Jedi way, and you adding your thoughts from the stance of fresh eyes.

The conversations distract wonderfully, and you savor any way you still get to connect with him.

You don’t push for the ways he doesn’t allow you to connect with him anymore. The way he won’t let you in his mind. Because now, you too have a reason to not let him in yours.

*******

When it’s time to go into town for supplies again, you make up some feeble excuse which you know Obi-Wan sees through as a lie, and this time, he does pry, eyes soft and concerned. He knows you love going to the markets. You simply explain that you’re tired, which is true enough to satisfy him, leaving you behind with a kiss on your forehead before you watch him saddle up your eopie and ride off.

You sigh, sagging against the closed door once he’s disappeared into the horizon. You do love the markets. They’re the most colorful thing the planet has to offer, textiles and rugs and shiny, hanging things.

But the spices. Fragrant and potent, usually so appetizing and intoxicating, you know would turn your stomach alone. And that doesn’t even account for the strange meats being cooked at different vendors, and Maker help you if anyone was selling raw meat of any sort today. You’ve done your best to keep your nausea at bay, at times even tapping into the Force for centering when the world felt like it was rocking. But you know the market would be too much, too many variables.

It’s not a fast journey, even on the eopie, and you don’t expect Obi-Wan to be back for hours. Which is why when you hear a knock on your door, the tool in your hand clatters to the floor, as does the remnants of your project.

You quickly grab one of the long staffs you and Obi-Wan had only begun to use in your defense training, trying to recall the lessons as adrenaline begins to rush through your veins. Tatooine isn’t known for its pleasant company, and if anyone was going to try to rob your home, now would be as good a time as any.

The knock sounds again, and you shout from the inside, “What do you want?!”

“A peace treaty in the form of baked goods,” comes the feminine voice, one you recognize.

Opening the door, you lower the weapon in your hand as Beru Lars blinks at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were…” You step aside, gesturing for her to come in.

She waves a hand, dismissive. “I understand.”

You lead her over to the small living area as you fix two glasses of water from the kitchen.

When you set them down on the table, Beru speaks. “I apologize for the intrusion, if there was another way of contacting you before coming here…”

“It’s absolutely fine, I’m glad to have you.” You smile in what you hope is an assuring way. “Although, I’m surprised at it just being you. Where’s Owen?”

Her eyes flick to the stone floor. “He um… doesn’t exactly know I’m here. He’s out on a business deal today.”

You feel your eyebrows go up at that, waiting for her to continue. But instead, she changes the subject. “Where’s Ben?”

“In town. We needed some things from the market.”

Awkwardness settles in as a conversation topic evades you.

She breaks the beat of quiet. “Here, I brought these for you.”

You take the basket in her hands from her, peeling back the thick woven cloth to reveal a simple form of bread. It looks so appetizing your stomach clenches, and you instantly realize you haven’t had anything since breakfast.

But then the smell hits you, hard and powerful, and stars, it’s just bread, there’s nothing that should do that about bread, but you’re on your feet in a minute, forsaking the basket on the ground as you bolt to the fresher, barely making it in time to the sonic sink before you start heaving.

In a moment, you feel soft hands at the nape of your neck, gently holding back the fabric of your shirt and blowing cool air as you continue to wretch.

By the time everything has settled again, you’ve dealt with the aftertaste in your mouth, and splashed on your face with a precious cup of cool water, hot shame rises in your cheeks at how this must seem to Beru.

You wipe at your face with a rag, half muffling your words when you address her. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious, It really has nothing to do…”

“How far along are you?”

Your spine straightens instantly, and you let the cloth drop to the floor.

“I… what?”

Now she’s the one to flush. “My apologies, it’s just that it’s known for being a very gentle bread, it’s one my mother used to feed me when my stomach ached. If that smell turned you... I just assumed, and I shouldn’t have.”

Your lips purse as you consider your options. It’d be easy to say nothing, or just to nod.

“Two months,” you hear your own voice answer despite yourself. You’ve never been one for easy anyway.

A surge of emotion wells up in you at even being able to speak it aloud, aloud to another human, and next thing you know, to your absolute horror, you’re crying into your hands as your shoulders crumple in on themselves.

Why now, of all times? In front of Beru Lars? Whom you know accepted Luke with her husband without question because they couldn’t biologically have any children of their own?

“I’m… so… sorry,” You manage to choke out through the sobs, disgusted at your own lack of control.

At some point Beru must join you on the floor, patting her hand soothingly on your back. “Shhh, it’ll be alright. You’ll see. It’s not so bad having a young one around, you and Ben have so much to look forw…”

“He doesn’t know.”

Her hand pausing briefly on your back is the only indication she gives of shock.

“Would he not be happy?”

You take a steadying breath in, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t know,” you whisper, small and almost frightened to let the room hear you say it.

It falls silent again, but it echoes around in your brain, bouncing against your thoughts until you feel the onset of a headache.

After you’re to a numb enough state to enjoy yourself, you and Beru make tea and bring it back to the living area.

She lifts her glass to yours, clinking them. “To secrets kept from men and the mischievous company they bring.”

Your head now throbs with pain, but you smile anyway. “Thank you,” you say to her, and you mean it so very much.

********

The next time Obi-Wan goes into town, you’re feeling well enough to go with him.

You’re not visiting the food portion of the market, after all, so you’re not as much of a risk to set your stomach off. He’s taken to fixing small machinery for trading with the Jawas recently, the extra income helping with the projects around the house.

There’s a trap door that you found within the first day of being there. The staircase carved out of the bedrock beneath the hut leads to a small room that has now served as additional storage and a place for Obi-Wan to work. It’s also quite cool during the day, so if you can stand the smell of the various meats hung to dry, you’ll sit down there with some sort of project, or even reading material if you come upon it.

So today, he’s looking for a few specific tools that will streamline his working.

It doesn’t take long to find a promising stall among the maze of shopkeepers, selling everything from trinkets to weaponry of questionable legality. Obi-Wan finds what he needs easily enough, and it looks like the trip is going to be as efficient as it is successful as you walk through alleyways with him.

At some point, he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, projecting an assuring strand of affection toward you. It’s such a small gesture, but you’ll never tire of the feeling of his hand clasped in yours.

You’re almost back to where the eopie, Rooh, as he named her, is stabled when Obi-Wan abruptly slows his pace, dropping into a stall. An alarm goes off in your head when you watch him pick up a frivolous trinket on a table that you know he has no interest in.

You open your mouth to inquire at his actions, but it answers itself once you see him glance out of his peripheral vision to where the holonews plays in the stall adjacent.

Battle footage on what you recognized to be Kashyyk at the presence of the many Wookies plays with the Emperor addressing the viewers in a very two-dimensional, sugar-coated, thinly-concealed threat to any other world that would try to resist occupation.

There’s wreckage and uncensored violence, and you turn your head away.

“May it be known that Lord Vader is quite capable and willing to help those into compliance that require assistance... “

The item in his hands crushes, ceramic tile cracking into his hands, breaking the skin and drawing out drips of red.

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem to register the glass he’s pushing into his own hand. His eyes are wide and he makes a wounded noise from the back of his throat, eyes peeled to the holonews now, not even trying to feign disinterest.

His signature sparks, giving a flash and then a severe cry of anguish, and it hits you then. Pieces of information coming together as you feel Obi-Wan tear apart at seams.

Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side, and Obi-Wan thought him dead. There’s a new Sith Lord now; the correlation and timing can’t be coincidence.

The Toydarian male behind the stall shouts something about paying for it in full, and you quickly hand over the credits with a glare.

You start to pull Obi-Wan’s other hand off the table, but you quickly realize your mistake in that.

The moment it isn’t holding his weight anymore, his knees start to give, and you’ve only a second to react, jamming your body under his arm to keep him upright. His momentum nearly pulls you forward, but you plant your feet and remember at the last second to call on the Force to assist you.

He seems to come to himself enough to walk somewhat as you steer him to the nearest alley away from the vendors.

He braces a hand on the stone wall, but even it isn’t enough as he drops to his knees. He doesn’t even seem to have the will to stand.

Crouching beside him, you place one of your hands on his chest.

“I…. I…” The tremor in his usually so crisp wording and steady voice crushes your chest, making it hard to breathe. “I failed him. I failed him.”

“Obi-Wan,” you start, trying to grasp at anything, everything to comfort him, not even thinking of how you can’t call him that here, even if there’s no one in sight.

If he registers your call, he doesn’t let on, continuing in his whispers to the wall. “He was burning. Burning, but I couldn’t do it. It would have been mercy to kill him, it was my mandate to do it, but I could not...” his voice gives out on the last word, and his shoulders fall forward in a shuddering inhale that transforms into a cut-short sob on its exhale.

“And now…” as the words pour from him, his shields fall, and so do the floodgates on his emotions, and it takes all the training you know to not be washed away in the torrential current of his grief. Does he even know he’s doing it, or has the insurmountable weight of his burden finally overridden his innate control over them?

“I’ve sentenced him to a fate worse than death.” He’s only barely choked out the end of his thought before his shoulders start to shake in earnest and he crumples in on himself as he begins to weep for his brother.

Giving no heed to the odd angle, you throw your arms around him. Trying to get your arms around his body is exactly the embodiment of the feeling of the moment, this anguish you don’t even begin to be enough to cover.

What could you say? What could you do? What would even begin to…

When you press your fingers to his temple, it’s light, a show of how unforced this is, how much he can say no if he needs. Because this isn’t for you. No, it’d be so much easier to not know the exact depth of his pain and rip your chest open with that knowledge. But you’re offering it, meaning it absolutely, desperate for him to take the hand offered to him. “Please let me in. Don’t do this alone. Let me…”

Then he’s pulling you in, not just letting you come in yourself, clinging to you like a person drowning. You remember to steady, to try to keep your own head above the water as wave after surging, overpowering wave of soul-crippling agony like you’ve never felt it engulf you in their surge.

You can’t hold out against it no matter how hard you try, so you refocus from centering yourself to pulling his signature into yours as you wrap your arms tighter around his torso.

And you begin to weep with him.

*********

The suns are drifting low by the time both of you have any intelligible thought, far too late to start the journey back to the hut.

At the inn, as Obi-Wan falls into the beginnings of a restless sleep, a thought emerges, clear and crisp in its awful truth.

You cannot tell him for a long while still.

*******

It’s different now. Because when he wakes in the night, he doesn’t give you falsehoods you see right through. He lets you into the terror and distortional dreams that all reside over one theme.

There’s silence in the first days after. Just silent tears and still embraces and the way time seems to freeze when grief is at its worst.

But then he starts talking. It comes in little pieces, then in larger ones.

The loudest thing his signature screams is guilt.

You tell him how it isn’t his fault, how Anakin is responsible for his own choices, but he just gives you a new reason every time as to why it is his fault, how he could have stopped it.

Because even in what he considers his worst failure, his verbiage is indicative of how it’s not his own image and pride hurting that he’s even considered. All of his thoughts, all of them, are on what Anakin needed that he didn’t give.

At first, it’s just impressions from his mind, unsorted, blurry thoughts and feelings, but it eventually begins to become words.

“After his mother died… I know that he blamed me. How couldn’t he? He told me of his dreams, dreams he knew were foresights, but I dismissed them, multiple times, at that. And the council… advised me against comforting him, but he… I… I did anyway.” His shoulders are forward, body sagging with unsureness that doesn’t fit him right in the slightest. “But it was far too late. I know there was something pivotal about the death of his mother, and I am...” he hesitates, seemingly not because he doesn’t know what to speak, but because he does. “Terrified. Terrified it’s all because I didn’t validate him sooner. If I had not...” His voice breaks off, as he shuts his eyes.

Fear is not something admired by the Jedi, you know. When he speaks of his own emotions, he speaks them like he’s confessing them.

And as he confesses and confesses, you comfort where you can, cry with him when you cannot.

*****

The swells of sorrow ebb and flow in their intense bursts and receding stillness, and despite the moments of not being able to breathe under the weight of it, there are miniscule, almost violating, hysterical intervals where smiles and life spring to the surface, gasping for air.

Or in this case, the inexplicable desire to dance.

You don’t even really know when you start, simply going about cleaning clothing in the sonic washer, and the next, some ridiculous, repetitive tune sweeps you to move your hips and feet, uncoordinated and graceless. The tune itself played from a datachip, scrapped with some pieces Obi-Wan was repurposing to make repairs. You’re not even familiar with the type of music, and it’s hardly the type of music you’d normally choose, but you find that today, it’s an improvement on the quiet that falls upon the house as Obi-Wan works outdoors.

The song swings into a bridge, and you slide across the stone floor, imitating something you saw in a music holo years ago, as you do, your foot catches on the rug you recently added, sending you fumbling for your footing. You eventually catch it before you fall, but as you look up, you decide to lower yourself to the ground anyway at the sight of Obi-Wan, leaning up against the door frame, watching you with an amused expression, the fingers of one hand tracing between his lips and chin.

You sit splayed as tactless and gangly as you danced and let out a short, startled laugh.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. I was quite enjoying myself.”

Maker, could you just hide under the rug you tripped over? “Please tell me you haven’t been standing there long.”

He pushes off his lean on the wall, crossing the room to you. “I won’t tell you lies, my love.”

Shame twists in your gut at his words, chasing the laughter in your throat away. But Obi-Wan extends a hand down, and you take it, letting him draw you to your feet.

He kisses the back of your hand before taking it in his, extending the clasp out to the side of your bodies as his other hand rests hot on the small of your waist.

“But I will join you, if you don’t mind a style change.”

“I don’t know how to dance like this,” you say, factually.

“Then allow me to teach you.” When you look in his eyes, they’re lined with the etches of heartache still, but there’s something else too, brimming to the surface.

“What, to this music?” You give your last, unconvincing protest.

He simply drops his forehead to yours, and the small sounds of the room fade to white as a sweet, moving melody replaces it. It’s not perfectly clear, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s because it’s coming from Obi-Wan’s memory.

The music has a distant, foggy quality, and it has potential to be eerie, but instead, it just lifts you into an ethereal feeling.

He steps, and your feet follow, not as graceful, but he makes it easy for you, the steps hinted out in his thoughts before taking them in actuality.

When you start to feel confident enough in the movements, you look up at him. “Does this mean I can teach you my dances next?”

He laughs, laughs, unabashed and with no emotion harbored under it, and some torn piece of your heart mends at the sound.

“Certainly not.”

You laugh too, even at the thought of him trying. The laugher rolls into a smooth quiet, and you let yourself bask in the feel of his body against yours, the press of his hand on your back as you rest your cheek against him.

Obi-Wan cradles you to him, forsaking the pattern of the dance as he encompasses you in his arms, lowering his lips to your cheek, then your mouth in a blazing kiss.

He takes your hand in his, lifting it above your head. Then you’re guided into a spin, and the room spins double with it as you abandon all endeavors of trying to get the dance correct. Your hand drops protectively to your belly before you can even think better of it, and by the time you know you’re not going to throw up, it’s too late. You already feel Obi-Wan’s unmistakable concern right before he asks, “What’s wrong?” extending an arm out toward you.

His complexion is ashen with worry, and when you don’t respond, you feel him start to reach out to your mind; a spike of panic zaps down your spine, and you’re suddenly not sure you’re not going to throw up after all.

Your shields crash down, not enough time for subtlety, and he retracts both his hand and inquiring tendril of energy as hurt and confusion shape his features.

You can’t do this. You can’t keep up this facade or cover this moment with a lie you know he’ll see through. But you can’t tell him either. After all the weight he’s carrying, the weight of the being that grows in you should be yours alone. You can’t thrust that upon him.

But it’s a delusion that you can keep this from him forever. You’re going to hurt him one way or another, and the weight of your silence and lies multiply every day you insulate him from the truth.

You take in a shuddering breath as dread settles into your bones. You know what you have to do.

Even as you slowly lower your shields, opening your signature, your mind screams at you in opposite directions, ripping you in half, and your hand shoots out to the nearest wall to stabilize yourself. How could you be so sadistic to tell him this? How could you not tell him? After all the trust you have in each other?

But he doesn’t take the invitation. “I will not touch your mind if you are still unsure you want me to,” he says softly but resolutely as he approaches you, but stays an unthreatening distance away, as if approaching a frightened animal.

No, no, no. You won’t have him being the one to sturdy you through this. You need to be strong, be ready, don’t force him to coddle you through the blast to his own chest.

So you dial down your own emotions and switch your absorption to amplifying the still tiny, barely recognizable life you’ve been carefully censoring ever since you heard it yourself.

You want to close your eyes, blockade the pain of both how it impacts him and how it will impact you, but that’s not how you two do things.

Summoning every iota of bravery and resolve running in your veins, you force yourself to look up at him as you watch understanding coat him.

His eyes go wide, and his hands clench and flex at his sides in an erratic, nervous pattern.

You can’t keep your signature open to his mind’s reaction, you just can’t. He’s seen enough, and you can put your shields up again. His face is enough to confront all on its own.

Obi-Wan steps toward you, slowly, dazed in a completely uncharacteristic way. With the way he seems to ever be prepared for the blows life throws at him, you hate how you have to be the harbinger for the second one that’s knocked him off his feet.

When he stops in front of you, he places his hands on either of your shoulders and looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, and you nod, trying to not let fear seep into your expression.

One of his hands covers his mouth as he takes it in.

And then he’s sinking in front of you, off of his feet indeed, and onto his knees. You want to follow, ready to hold him through the heartache sure to follow, at the second child he didn’t ask for while he still grieves the loss of the first.

But his hands instead take purchase on your stomach, tightening the fabric of your tunic around the barely-visible bump before bunching it up and lifting, just enough so he can tilt his forehead against the skin there.

You can feel him reaching out, not taking him long at all to find what he’s searching for, and curiosity beats self-preservation at the last moment, prompting you to open your mind again, just for you to be able to catch elation coursing through Obi-Wan.

You don’t even bother trying to stifle your confusion as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

Sinking to your knees to meet him, you take his face in your hands, trying to make sense of it all as he takes your hand in his. “I never... “ when his voice comes out unsteady, he clears his throat and tries again. “I never thought I’d have... That we could… didn’t occur to me that now...stars above, how long have you known?”

You don’t recall when you start crying, but tears are falling freely down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I’m so sorry. I… I would never want to keep something like this from you, Obi-Wan, but I couldn’t tell you, not with everything, not with all you already have…and i’m so sorry.”

“Oh, heavens, no. You should not have to do this alone. Please don’t keep things from me, even if you think it to be for my sake. We can…”

You fix him with a pointed, unamused stare. He exhales as he must notice his hypocrisy.

“Your point is well-put and taken, but the sentiment still stands. We’ll not keep secrets from each other anymore. Do we have an accord?”

Despite it all, you smile at his overly-formal phrasing, something you’d normally have a quip about if it weren’t for the concern still nagging at you.

“Are you not angry then? Or disappointed?” you watch him carefully, praying to any deity listening that he doesn’t concoct some half truth to placate you. His first instinct is always to protect, but you’d never want it at expense of his authenticity.

Bafflement marks his brow at first, then he takes your face in his hands. “Darling, no.” He says your name, gathering every bit of your attention. “I dreamt of you. During the war, when I was away. I did not sleep well, even then, but when I did, I’d sometimes dream of you, holding a child that I knew to be ours. When I woke, I would remember it so vividly, so painfully, because I never thought that was an attainable future for us.”

But that doesn’t need to matter if you… do you want this child?” His eyes are so full of hope, and it was the last thing you expected, but here he is laying it down on the altar of your preference, and maker, are you glad those two things aren’t opposing each other.

Because his hope and yours are one in the same, and once he knows it too, at your whispering, choked, “yes,” he’s clutching you in his arms.

And for the second time in a month, you’re both huddled on the ground in tears. The first, bowing under the mass of catastrophe. Now, at the glowing relief of the sprouting of a dream sown in tears, too tender before to even say aloud.

But now? You’re saying it, back and forth, from him to you as your walls fall, permitting him into your mind as he welcomes you into his, and finally you take true comfort once again in the home you’ve built in each other.

*******

The night after, you lie side by side, hand in hand, on a blanket splayed not far from the hut. The suns have sunken, but the pinks and oranges of their palette still paint the sky where it hasn’t yet turned to midnight cobalt. The light of the lantern gives off a similar hue, dousing everything in your reach in soft, warm hues.

It has taken Obi-Wan some convincing, being so out in the open with everything he had to worry about wasn’t his first choice, but you compromised for a small alcove in the rock formations which surrounded you on two sides. More easily defensible. Not that he needed it, but if he was cautious before, it was borderline unbearable now. With the added danger of the Empire knowing without doubt that he lived. With more than ever to lose.

So, he was in charge of safety, you were in charge of snacks. And if they so happened to be almost entirely comprised of those melons you couldn’t quite get enough of lately? That was no one’s business except yours. You brought a few things you knew Obi-Wan liked too, of course.

What little remains of the miscellaneous spread you push to the edge of the blanket so you can both lie down.

“I dare say it’s almost pleasant out tonight.”

You turn your head to him, a snort ready at him discussing the weather of all things, but it instead forms a cloud in your throat at the sight of him.

His eyes are closed, hair rustling in the slight evening breeze, a tranquil ease over his profile.

The small patches of grey in the part of his beard next to his ears catch the first glints of moonlight in a way the rest of his hair doesn’t, giving them away.

The mellisonant lowness of his voice brings you back to yourself, cheeks heating.

“I can feel you staring, little one.” He opens his eyes, leisurely rolling to his side. “Some say it’s quite impolite.” Slanting over you, he lifts a brow, daring your response.

“And is that a problem?” You look up at him through your eyelashes, feigning innocence.

Obi-Wan’s gaze follows back up to the stars, as he plays right along, pretending to have to think on it. “I suppose it depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not you allow me to return the impropriety,” he responds with a coy smile, moving back to you, so close now you can feel his exhales on your cheek.

Warmth blooms through you as you answer back, “You can always look, Obi-Wan.” You lift yourself to close the short distance between your face and his, pressing your lips together, which he deepens right away. Using the hand not supporting half his body off of you still, he fans out his fingers across your belly, towing the line between caressing gently and clutching protectively.

You pull your lips back from his as an uninvited slither of insecurity slips into your chest.

He senses it, of course, so you speak before he even needs to ask. “Are you really, truly, certain this is what you want? Now? I don’t want you to just say so because…and we could wait, we have...”

“I am,” he says, adamantly, before you even have a chance to finish. His eyes flash to the side. “I…” He rolls back onto his back, looking straight up as he talks seemingly half to you, half to himself. “There is not much I know for certain these days. Some days… I scarcely can remember who I am anymore.”

He turns his eyes back to you, unwavering. “There are seldom few things I haven’t questioned of late, and my love for you isn’t one of them. And from the moment I’ve known, from the very first instant you let me feel the life within you, my love for them hasn’t been one either.”

Your thoughts split into two, one wanting to lean into it, to take him for his word that’s always true, and the other cautioning you, telling you to keep distant and watch for the surface level honesty he gives that hides the brutal one he safeguards you from.

But you’re not hiding anymore, feelings unconcealed in your energy and on your face, so he leans back into you, grasping your arm in his hand, squaring your shoulders to him. You cringe at yourself when you know he’s heard the impression of you questioning. It’s redundant, but self-doubt always is. “Know, please know, my darling.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it up to his temple with an insistence that you have no desire to counter.

And it’s there. Right there and sparking in its clarity, right at the threshold of his mind as you enter it. How much he means his words, no holds barred, no cleverly crafted glazes to an unly underbelly of reality. His reality was this, how severely he craves starting a family with you. How much he already loves the being within you, how he looks forward to the day he gets to hold them in his arms.

The fear is there too, quiet, but not kept from you. The fear of failing as a father, unsure of assuming any role that resembled a mentor again, all-too-familiar with the ghost that will float over him in every lesson he teaches.

What shocks you there is his faith in you. In how much he’s already learned from you about the impact of open affection, in how you don’t let your feelings lead you, but you let them breathe, not suffocate them. It’s part of how he even can acknowledge his fears to himself and to you without berating himself under the too-simple phrase “fear leads to the dark side.” There’s truth in it, but also inaccuracy.

Because he’s afraid, and yet, there is so much light in the acknowledging of it to himself, and in that very act, it loses much of any power it could have had over him. Oh, how deeply he wishes he could have articulated that understanding to Anakin.

The pain is fresh, but so is his anticipation for the future, swirling together in a potent drink, and his throat bobs with the effort to swallow them down simultaneously.

He knows you’ll help ground him through it, he trusts you, even in his uncertainty in himself.

It breaks your heart but also warms it: the knowledge that he lets you into that place where he keeps the questions of himself, the place only you and the man who’s caused most of this doubt have been permitted.

With a thankful short farewell, you part from his mind as you know exactly what you want to do.

The remains of your snacks still rest on the edge of the blanket, including the shells of the deep purple-pigmented melons. The one draw-back to their delightful taste was how badly they stained your fingers. You had to break them into tiny pieces, plopping them into your mouth without allowing them to touch your lips unless you wanted your mouth to stain too.

But right now? The staining quality was just what you needed.

Although first you needed a blank canvas.

“May I take your tunics off?” you ask, sitting up.

Despite a short twitch of confusion and then interest, Obi-Wan follows, raising himself up into a kneel, slightly lifting his arms in compliance.

The paleness of his skin catches all the light of the lantern, highlighting your view as you slowly slide the fabric up and off, gliding your hands up the line of hair dipping below his navel as it becomes more exposed. It grants you a quiet, steep intake of breath from him and you suddenly give halt momentarily, distracted by the alluring appetite you’ve created.

No, you won’t give in. Not yet. He needs to know this.

You take one of the broken pieces of melon rind in your hand, where little tart bits of the fruit still cling, dribbling pigment, but before your finger makes contact with the taut skin of his chest, you pull back at the realization you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

How do you even begin to describe him? Obi-Wan is so many things at once, so many attributes, and every descriptor that comes to mind falls blatantly short of him.

Then you recall Obi-Wan going through the motions of Alchaka, watching his body fight to maintain the poses at times. Being such a personal practice, you felt honored that he let you see him go through the exercises, and even more honored that he opened up to you about the purpose behind it later. It was an exercise of both physicality and Force use, and the goal was absolute exhaustion. That was the destination. Trying, knowing from the start that he’ll fall short in the end, but doing it all the same. Because there’s so, so much to be said for the trying.

So you do. You bring the messy fingertip to his clavicle, smearing the first word you know to absolutely be true of him, as if starting the premise with a whisper of I know you’re even more than the sum all of these singular praises.

The word “complex” appears in your penmanship on his skin as you drag it to life. You look up to his eyes, and his curiosity is clear there, but also so is the tenderness that is elemental to any time he looks at you. And just like that, you have your next word.

Kind.

And at the way he flushes so lovely for you at that?

Beautiful.

You feel his protest before you see it, the objection in his signature, and you know you’re going to have to switch methods.

Just then, a droplet from where you’ve written the last word on his pectoral falls, down, down, threatening toward the hem of his trousers, but you’re fast, dropping your mouth down and catching it all on your tongue before it can stain the bleached beige of his remaining clothing.

When his stubborn revolt at the affirmation quiets in his mind in exchange for a flash of searing lust, you know exactly how you’re going to continue.

Because Obi-Wan Kenobi, general, warrior, negotiator, Jedi Master, legend, has rarely ever been affirmed as such, and he squirms under the thick blanket of his humility and deprivation anytime someone endeavors.

So you need his mind to be preoccupied enough, guards down low enough, so he can even hear the message get through.

When you place your hands over his waistband, locking eyes in inquiry, stopping when he hesitates, scanning the area around you, vigilant as always. Overly so now.

“We’re alone. And wouldn’t you be able to sense it if we weren’t?”

He looks down at you as he answers. “If I stay mindful enough to do so, yes.”

Good, he’ll be even less prone to fight you if he has some of his mind sensing outward.

You look back up at him with the facial equivalent of asking “well?” to which Obi-Wan sighs in response. “Very well then.”

With your familiarity with ridding him of clothing, it only takes moments before you can finally taste him where you want to, where he’s already hard and swollen for you.

You know you won’t be able to take him as much as you want, a recently-developed overactive gag reflex preventing you. But it just so happens to be convenient tonight, as the resulting taunt should have him right where you want him.

A gentle kiss, right to the head of his cock is all the warning you give him before taking the whole tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, pulling a choked hum deep from his throat.

Oh, oh, Maker, have you done a grand miscalculation, because you forgot an entire factor in this equation: the way you have been borderline hysterical in hunger for him.

You’ve kept so much from him, and part of how you’ve even managed is starting to convince yourself of less than fact. Facts like how many times you’ve had to change underthings recently, physical evidence of desire unwilling to comply to your head’s demands. Facts like how you’ve literally had to bite your finger to keep the feelings at bay.

You’d expected changes in your body even before your belly grew, but this was one you hadn’t anticipated. In some ways, it wasn’t that different than usual. You never knew you could want someone with the breadth that you want Obi-Wan.

But this? Of late? It feels like it’s been amplified tenfold.

You’re not keeping any cards close to your chest anymore, but you do have to ignore your own body’s screaming cries as you complete this.

He needs to know.

Nerves still serenading his brain with feedback, you re-wet your finger with the purple juice and write the next words across his abdomen.

Wise.

Perceptive.

He’s caught on to your scheme by now, cued by the all-too appropriate addition of the last word, and he lets you know it, an impression projected, speechless but still unobstructed. He’s still powerless against it. Or rather, letting himself be powerless. Trusting you with the control he has left, trusting you in his vulnerable places. The places where he’s weak.

Strong.

The word spread over his right upper arm, where he’s obviously just that. But may the tint of the word bleed through his skin, may it run through his veins, because that’s how deep and deeper still that his strength runs. It’s in the way he doesn’t flaunt it. It’s in the way he chooses to wield it.

Gentle.

He closes his eyes, flinching at the onslaught of acclamation, and you dip your head down again, wrapping your lips around his cock, letting him slide to where you can take him comfortably, just starting to build a pace as his hips squirm in harmony with his suddenly erratic breaths. Oh, how you’d love to let him deeper, allow his cock past your lips beyond the teasing amount you can take now, but the little writhes his body gives in protest are enough to almost make you okay with how your mouth won’t agree with your ambitions. He says your name, groaned out in bliss as he cups a hand on your cheek.

His barriers are down, so it’s easy to hear when his deprecating thoughts quiet again, and you switch back to coloring him again.

You know the moment you look up at him that it’s a mistake, because he’s flushed, so torn, suspended in the limbo of your give and withdrawal, mouth ever so slightly open, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

You’re only human, so before you draw anything else, you bring your lips to his, which is yet another mistake, because among the many things Obi-Wan is, he is a deep kisser, and as his tongue delves into your mouth, your will power takes a devastating blow.

You pull back, reeling at the reminder of how easily he can take back control, knowing you have to complete this before you let him.

Stars, how you want to let him.

For now, you need that control back, so you take him into your mouth again, filthily wet and not nearly long enough as you quickly pull back, watching in satisfaction as he heaves forward at the loss, correcting himself quickly back into straight posture.

With a smirk, you drag your slippery, pigmented finger across his lower stomach.

Disciplined.

There’s so many more words, so much more he needs to know, and if you covered every inch of his skin in the smallest writing it still wouldn’t be sufficient of all that he is.

Or you could whisper it all through the Force, embed it all in his mind.

But because you’ve been there, know his mind inside and out, you know every time he sees his own skin, all he sees is the red of blood on his hands. The blood of his brother.

And that’s exactly why you’re going to stain it in your own colors. Take back territory and push back the front lines that the army of guilt has taken over on him.

Your Jedi, ever-adorned in unassuming beige, now drips in the color of royalty.

Charming.

Humble.

Confident.

Steadfast.

You’re only left with enough space for one more word, and you want some sort of conclusion to it all, something to summarize the expanse of the man kneeling in front of you.

Nothing can.

But maybe, just maybe, one word encapsulates what he is to you.

Treasure.

This time you do chant it across his thoughts, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

Cerulean blue blinks open, slowly, almost painfully and nearly overflowing with emotion.

Thank you, is all he says, unable or unwilling to say it out loud, much too heartfelt and newly-budded for that.

You know his pain has older roots than those tended to in this moment, but you vow to yourself that you’ll never stop trying.

Lowering your mouth around him once again, you don’t tease him anymore, at least not intentionally, even though you still can’t take more than half of him.

“Look at you, you’re…” he hisses in a breath as you swipe your tongue against that vein on the underside of him. “Stunning. You’re doing so well, little one.”

The taste of him compels you as much as his words, seizes you in spice-like addiction, and how interesting it’s going to be explaining that taste craving to him, among your sudden adoration for those damn melons.

“Darling, I’m…”

You feel it in his energy before he says it, already pulling off, replacing your mouth with your hand, dropping your lips down even lower, mouthing at his balls, and the feedback is instant. An outpouring crest of his pleasure blasting outward as he lets out a depraved moan, netting his hands into your hair.

Your hand is wet and so is where he’s spilled on his still flexing and releasing stomach, clear white maring the lettering halfway through “disciplined.” You’d clean it with your tongue if you weren’t sure how your overly sensitive taste buds would react now.

It’s not the first time you’ve had sex since you’ve known you were pregnant, but it’s the first time since he’s known, and it’s the first time you’re not hiding the symptoms. Before, you carefully shied away from anything that might give you away, and between the preoccupation of everything on his own mind he was trying to keep from you and his respect for your boundaries, he never pressed. He had questions in his eyes, but you knew how to carefully reveal partial vulnerabilities to keep him off your trail.

Your chest flares at the memory.

We’re not hiding now.

It’s your chant, your reminder, your comfort. How nothing of this caliber will be kept between you again.

His eyes confirm it, sincere and exact as they fight to break through their dazed slipping.

Never again. His voice in your head is home, so consoling it can and has put you to sleep before.

Right now, it wakes you up in a different light, dowsing you in heat as Obi-Wan takes your hand in his, wiping it on a piece of his discarded clothing before wiping the spend off himself.

Then he’s taking your face in both his hands tilting you up before kissing you soundly.

I love you, he says across the wire that ties your minds, the wire that keeps growing stronger every day. So, so very much.

You say it back, a fact as simple as breathing. You love him.

You want him, borderline need him the way you need your next inhale, you don’t say, but he must hear it anyway, because that cocky little smirk that’s been gone far too long is back.

“Shall we do something about that?”

You’re about to just lift your shift dress up and off in response, but he halts you, grasping your wrists.

“Allow me.”

He pulls you into another sultry kiss, completely neglecting the task of ridding you of clothing.

Or so you think.

There’s buttons all the way down the dress, and you’ve never used them, always wondering at their purpose if it can so easily lift over your head.

At first, you don’t even know he’s doing it until you start to feel the coolness of the night air on your nipples. Opening your eyes, you pull back from him to watch as seemingly in thin air, your buttons undo themselves.

“You needn’t seduce me further. You already know how much I need you,” you gasp, breathless from the kiss.

Obi-Wan just gives a small smile as he drops a hand, dragging it down your side, then down your thigh. “Hm. So impatient. All this from just pleasuring me?”

Maker, he knows! He knows that you are. You always have been, and it’s not as if you weren’t projecting your feelings too.

When he reaches a hand between your thighs, parting them and making a single, tempting stroke through them, his fingers come back glistening.

“I should think you could feel that I am.” You let the tide of your frustration spill over into your connection to his mind.

You know he had to hear you, but he gives no indication that he did.

“Mm. Desire needn’t always be indicatory of impatience,” he punctuates his statement with a hand at the base of your skull, tipping your head back to expose your neck. “I need you to be patient, little one. Let me savor you.” And with that, his mouth makes contact with your neck at the same time his other hand plays with one of your exposed nipples.

You whimper at the attention, quietly pleading with him for more. Among the still slight changes to your body, this has been the most notable one. How sensitive your breasts have become to even the scrape of the fabric of your clothing.

And with the rough pads of his fingers working only one, leaving the other to pang in want...

“Obi-Wan,” it’s a prayer, a request. He doesn’t need his hands to cause sensation, and you’d beg him right now if he asked.

He lets up on your neck, only barely, lips moving against the now throbbing skin. “Answer me first.”

Clearing your throat, you give the most cogent response you can muster. “Depends on if you’re definition of savor is synonymous with torture.”

He locks eyes with you then, gently grasping a breast in each of his hands, dragging his thumbs over the nipples as you moan out your assent.

His chuckle is far too self-satisfied to be becoming of a Jedi, but you’re already too far gone to call him on it.

“Is that what you want, little one? For me to torture you so?”

An affirmative whimper is all the response you can give, and Obi-Wan reacts quickly, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your eyes up to his again.

“Then you will be patient for me. Because I’m always happy to stop, and we can begin again when you decide to adhere.”

Your brain short circuits on the spot, and all energy is redirected much, much lower. His voice, stars above, his voice when it takes a commanding tone.

It’s intimate, it’s personal, and yet this game is almost inappropriately playful for how sincere the moment is.

But such was being loved by Obi-Wan. Full of dissimilar feelings that shouldn’t fit, but moved together in liquid consistency. Like metaphors that didn’t rhyme but still somehow gave their own life-giving rhythm, not dissimilar to the sound of his heartbeat when you lay your head against his chest at night.

Making quick work of the remaining buttons of your shift and underwear, he beckons you to join him as he lies back down, large, warm hands guiding you to turn around so you’re facing away from him.

You know that the purple stickiness of the fruit will smear from his body to yours like this, but you can’t at all bring yourself to care.

You gasp a sigh of relief as one of his hands finds your breast, brushing a knuckle over the too-sensitive nipple.

“Please.” Your whispered beg sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. But as you arch against him in a frenzied attempt at skin contact, Obi-Wan juts his hips forward, grunting into the exposed column of your neck, and stars, yeah, maybe he didn’t find that so pathetic after all.

“What do you want, darling?” His voice doesn’t divulge any desperation, and for only the hundredth time do you envy his immaculate self-control.

“You know, don’t pretend you don’t.” Leaving any doubt to the wind, you push your chest against his barely-touching hand.

“Specificity can be a virtue; that I also know.”

You change techniques, driving your hips back softly into where he’s hard and insistent against your ass, hoping it compels him.

Then you simply… can’t anymore. You’re frozen, unable to move your lower half at all.

Tangling your desires into a knot and tucking it away, you find the mindfulness to reply. “Yeah, so is mercy.”

“Indeed it is. I shall concede when you do.”

You won’t win a battle of the wills with him. You’re not sure anyone could.

So you bring his hand over to your nipple. “Touch me here.”

You feel his smile without even seeing it as he starts tweaking the bud. “Like this?”

It’s so much sensation, all concentrated on such responsive flesh, that you want to beg for him to switch to touching you between your legs.

You haven’t even finished the thought when you feel his unmistakable metaphysical brush against your thigh.

Extending a tendril of your own energy, you invite him in, and he takes it eagerly, ever as eager if not more to be entwined with your mind as with your body.

He hears it all, the besottment, the arousal, the neediness. The panic that he might drag this out longer, that you’ll have to go a single minute longer without...

“It’s alright. It’s alright.” He sends soothing waves through your connection, and he swaps the positioning of his hand with the curl of power. He turns his hand so that the back of it runs through where you’re aching for him, gathering up your slick on the backs of his knuckles. You have to contort your neck to see what follows when he takes the hand back behind you, and your mouth goes dry when he sucks the knuckles in between his lips.

You want to hear, you want to know what he’s…

He’s welcoming you in, navigating you to the brink of his mental barriers, letting you take that final plunge into the unsuppressed fullness of your bond to each other.

Now it’s your turn to hear it: how his carefully constructed unaffected persona is not at all a match for his naked, wanton need for you.

And under that, the foundation on which that desire is built, not the product of it, is his love, his unyielding, unashamed, iridescent love for you.

It’s all you can do but to pour it back, affirming and soothing and calling his love into action with your own.

You both don’t want anything else except the most complete of entanglement, and that’s exactly what he moves to do, situating your bodies, hiking your top leg in the crook of his arm as you feel the initial breach of his body into yours, and all breath leaves your lungs in an exhilarating evacuation.

His audible gasp is an echo of his emotions, how he thinks he’s prepared for this onslaught of feeling, but how you take him off guard, how his equilibrium threatens to teeter every time.

The web of his consciousness enveloping you, it’s easy to pick out a single thought blaring within him: How much he adores the way you fit together. Your back against his chest, how your breast fits in his hand, how the snug joining of where his cock presses into your body sends you into trembles, how comforting your very presence is to his soul when he lets you in like this.

Tears, without warning, seep out of your eyes as he starts to move against you, slow and deep. You close your eyes, willing the powerful emotion away, but glimmers of light flash out behind our closed lids the moment you do, and how the kriff does he stay composed?

Anchor. Anchor against me.

He stills, letting you have a break from the barrage of pleasure blinding you as you search him out, looking for the cords of his intellect that seemingly both steam downward and beam upward, grounding him.

You find it, and you clasp on tightly.

But the moment he starts moving again, you lose sight of it all over again.

Your heightened hormones make your flesh so susceptible, and the tears start to fall again. Obi-Wan rolls your nipple in between his thumb and index, and he’s so good, and you’re so full, and you can hear his pleasure as your own, adding, doubling everything…

Scorching, electrifying heat speeds through your veins, hitting hard and fast, leaving you astounded and even more sensitive than before.

Obi-Wan’s signature spikes as your climax resounds through him, and you can feel the vibration of the wanton noises he’s making right where his beard scratches against your neck.

But he doesn’t allow it to overtake him, letting it run through him without resistance, making himself pliable but unmovable, keeping himself back from the edge.

You still have much to learn.

Because that control? Gives him the ability to not even stop, not even hesitate once, even at both yours and his own ecstasy flowing through him.

When he starts striking his hips hard into yours, the weight of him inside you dragging exactly in the right place, you start to cry in earnest. Obi-Wan stops for a millisecond, concern radiating off of him, even when he can hear how much you want this so clearly, has access to every little passing thought.

“Don’t stop, I’m fine, I pro…” He does just as asked while moving his hand down to your belly again, a soothing touch to his rough thrusts. Your eyes are blurred with wetness, overwhelmed with him.

He’s listening to it all, applying every micro-feeling of feedback into action against your desperate, post-orgasmic skin, hand switching back and forth from your nipples to loosely clutching your neck, Force energy focused on applying pressure to your clit.

“You’re doing so well, so good for me,” comes the wisp of his sultry tone, lips pressed against your ear.

Since you aren’t even thinking about changing position, you know it’s his own preference that has him withdrawing, guiding you onto your back.

There’s no inhibition this way, not the way there is when you’re on your side, no separation from your bodies being flush when he pushes into you again. You have to anchor in him, both mentally and with your fingernails clawing at his shoulder blades as your body starts into tremors.

He’s keeping the weight of his chest off of you, even though your belly is still barely swollen into distinguishable roundedness, and as much as you miss the contact, you can look into his eyes like this, can see the unfiltered attachment and all the weight of all the emotion he wills his body to not cave under.

But then the tremoring transforms into series of contractions throughout your body, centering through your slick core, and you thrash your head to the side catching a glimpse of Obi-Wan’s fingers clenching into white knuckles, grasping into the exposed sand from the blanket being bunched up.

He projects his thoughts across the tether to you, how thoroughly impacted by the very fact you’re carrying his child, how affected he is by every little thing about you, honored that he’s allowed to touch you like this.

You roll your hips back up into his, and that’s what it takes. His stuttering body is the lightning, and the searing, molten pleasure across your connection is the thunderous repercussion.

It completely overthrows you, and your body bows against him as his high instantly cues yours again.

You can feel him throb inside you at the very moment you do, his turn to experience the secondary sensory white-out of your mate’s climax through the Force, his shuddering shout meeting your breathy whines in the close distance between your mouths.

And he does kiss you then, soundly but with the haze of afterglow slowing it.

“Have you any idea how bewitching you are to me?” He breathes it out, and despite all the ways you’d normally scoff at such words, his eyes tell the story, and you listen to it’s truth.

His eyes hold that constant infiltrating study of you, the one that could be unnerving if his mind, still tethered to yours didn’t hold such amor, heart bleed such fondness that settles in the creases around his eyes.

How interesting it is watching someone as knowledgeable as him having such an inquisitive outlook on life, and being so frequently the object of those investigations.

Did the galaxy know her debt to him? Did she know the sum owed to inflicting the worst of life’s pains on someone who refused to let it build anything except an even gentler man of himself? When does she plan on repaying him? What does she offer in exchange for her cruelty of the hand she’s dealt Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Then the whisper comes, soft but crisp, from somewhere in the threads of existence around you, “Can’t you see? It’s you, child.”

You could argue it. You could scream how it’s not enough, how you’re not enough, how he deserves so much more from some dark insecure place inside you. Or how love shouldn’t be treated as currency in exchange for pain, how the galaxy could still have your fists if that was how it tallied.

But the finality of it settles in your soul, more impressionistic than in solid wording: there is no easy conclusion that ties the suffering of life into purpose, no experience that erases or mends its pain. But love. Love makes the complicated endeavor of trying to find purpose in the madness worthwhile.

Obi-Wan’s hum of agreement resounds in your ears and through to your head. His Force signature feels so familiar, so at home within yours and yours within his, that you’d briefly forgotten he could still hear you.

With all the strength still left in quaking limbs, you wrap your arms around him, and he melts into it.

The compassion of his soul hardly matches his war-ravaged skin, his guilt-ridden memories. Every good thing here came to be with a war waged, refined and not burnt away in fire at his sheer tenacity.

It’s a growing thing, blooming in the desert. The beliefs in both of you. Your love for each other. Your own trust in the Force.

Healing is no short journey, but her two sojourners here are determined.

And if that tender hope can blossom here?

Then maybe, just maybe: Tatooine is exactly the place for a baby after all.

*********

In the valley beyond the hut, a boy jets quickly away in some mechanical contraption he recently motorized, a girl in a similar vehicularized compilation of junk not far behind.

On the cliff’s edge stands Obi-Wan, eyes scanning the landscape intermittently for any sign of threat between longer affectionate looks at the children before him.

He turns, feeling your approach in his keen awareness as you set a hand on his shoulder from behind. His temples are now even thicker with sun-bleached silver, and his eyes wield the lines of laughter around them.

And you? You’re as roped in by his gravitational pull as you’ve always been.

He puts a hand over yours, clasping it to bring you in front of him, where he can still watch the children and encase you in his arms at the same time.

“Slow down, Luke! You’re going too fast!” comes the distressed cry of your daughter, Ahlina, drawing your attention away from admiring Obi-Wan and back to the valley. Her vowels curl in the same way her father’s does, but her more casual phrasing was certainly thanks to you. Luke shouts back at her, “Come on, keep up!” while he races on ahead.

Obi-Wan smiles, seemingly amused at a secret joke.

“They are much too young for this nonsense still,” he speaks, muffled slightly as he hides his lips in your hair.

“Probably,” you reply with an airy laugh.

Not long after, the engine on Luke’s small contraption gives out, jutting him off and tumbling forward into the sand.

“I told you!” Ahlina yells, her own machine coming to a halt not far away from Luke.

When they make it back up the cliff, Obi-Wan couches and opens his arms, and they both come running with smiles. They’re still young enough to be unshy about affection, and Obi-Wan knows to soak it up, closing his eyes in relishment.

Luke is the first to wiggle down, waving before running over to hug your leg, which you happily return, brushing some of the blonde mop of hair from his forehead. You adored the nights that the Lars let him sleep over.

Although the nights that Ahlina slept over at theirs certainly had their allure too.

“Can we have a snack, Daddy?” Ahlina asks, still happy to be hoisted up on one of his arms.

“Hm. Perhaps I can make some of those ahrisa sweet breads again?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Can Mommy make them?”

“Why not mine?”

“Because you always burn them.”

He bops a finger lightly on her nose with a smile. “Cheeky.”

She goes to bop him on his nose in return, but he catches the finger, holding it.

“Give it back!” she screeches through a giggle.

“No, no. I think I’ll keep it now.”

The suns are dipping low as you retreat into the hut, the two children running ahead, racing to gather the ingredients to help you bake the bread. Luke especially was an enthusiastic sous-chef.

You step to follow them, but Obi-Wan grasps your hand. You turn back to him, and he barely gives you a second before he joins his mouth to yours. Sliding a hand into the auburn beard, you open your mouth to him, letting his familiar taste permeate your senses.

He reluctantly breaks after a long moment, and you take his hand in yours. When you turn back to the horizon, the suns are dipping, blanketing the landscape in the most celestial light of the day.

The planet’s eyes aren’t harsh in the way you used to see them. They’re still intense, and frequently unforgiving.

Perhaps they never changed. Maybe only you did.

But as they sink now, you give a silent, partial farewell, knowing they’ll greet you again in the morning.

Because if Dark’s patience is infinite?

So is the promise of the return of the Light.

Tagging upon request: @million-dollar-legs

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi wan smut #obi-wan smut #obi-wan #obi-wan x oc

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beskarhearts · 3 years

Text

Vencuyot (Din Djarin x reader)

source: @isetthetone

Connection series Pt. 11

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, fighting, total sleazy douche bag

Word count: over 8.5 K

Summary: Din and you finally get started on helping the kid find his kind.

Notes: Alright, we are finally going into the events of season two! Each episode will probably be about 2-3 chapters. And I’m also planning right now on how to incorporate original scenes while also kind of following the overarching story line from season two. I am very excited to see how you guys like it!

Previous Part ____ Next Part

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“You’re good with him.”

You smile warmly at Din, holding the child’s little body against your chest to which he let out a string of joyful noises that pulled at your heart strings. You looked down quickly to see the child’s eyes look up at you, his little hand beginning to pull of strands of your hair. He always loved to play with it, sometimes to tug at it or yank it, but most of the times he’d just run his three tiny fingers through it like it was the most fascinating thing. You looked back up to Din, who watched the two of you with his helmet tilted slightly. You couldn’t see his expression but you’d like to think you knew him well enough to know he was smiling underneath the helmet.

Moments like these were nice. The kind of moments where you, Din, and the kid just sat together in the hull of the Crest, letting the ship guide you guys through hyperspace as the three of you just relaxed. It was domestic and pure and everything you and Din deserved.

“Yeah. I guess I kind of am.” You quietly admitted. You never wanted to brag about the way you were able to care for the child. Yes, it was part of your job around here. But Din also helped and a small part of you always saw the child as Dins, and solely Dins. Din had been the one to find him and protect him. He was the one who made an oath to find his kind, putting his Creed and life at risk to do it. It had been just been the two of them for a while before you came along. So yes, you were good with the kid, but you never wanted to overstep a boundary and claim the kid as your own. Even in spite of the way a maternal wave washed over you each time you saw the child coo at you or reach for you. The way a sleepy smile would pop onto his face when he woke up and saw you. The way some nights he would just need to be held by you for a while before feeling safe and secure enough to go to bed. In spite of all those things that made you feel special, you still wanted to show respect to their relationship.

“You definitely are.” Din paused, sitting forward a little more before continuing. “Is it cause of some... Jedi thing?”

You smiled at the way Din spoke about anything Jedi related. You were the first to admit you weren’t the most educated about Jedi history but Din was absolutely clueless. You supposed that made sense considering the rift between Mandalorians and Jedi’s but it still made you chuckle whenever he tried to speak about the matter. “I don’t know, to be honest. I think sometimes I just can feel what he needs or sense when something is wrong. I don’t know if it’s a Jedi thing or just a m-” you cut yourself off, trapping the words in your mouth before they slip out.

“Just a what?” Din asked and you shook your head quickly.

“Oh nothing, it was just a silly thing.”

Din sighed, reaching forward and brushing his hand against your knee. “What was it, cyar’ika?”

“I was going to say a mother thing. But not cause I’m the kids mom or anything. It was dumb because I’m totally not. I’m just-“

“Stop.” You physically bring your lips together to stop yourself from rambling. “I might not know much but I know the kid sees you as a mother.”

You smiled warmly, looking down at the child in your lap who continue to play with strands of hair, not paying much attention to the conversation being had. “Yeah?”

Din nodded. “Of course. And you are a good one.”

You tried to look away from Din, not wanting him to see the way your face flushed from the compliment or the way your eyes started to water from the sincerity of it. You truly loved the child, probably a bit too much. And maybe you shouldn’t look at him like a son considering what you knew was bound to happen, but you didn’t contemplate the pain you would one day feel at his possible departure. As far as you knew, this was your family and you were going to enjoy it for as long as possible. And that meant treating the kid like your own because even if you selfishly wanted to build a wall up, you knew the child needed a parental figure in his life. He was only a small child after all, one who had already been through enough and hidden away for so long. So you figured you could do this for him. You could show him love and compassion, how it feels to be protected by someone who cares for you. It was a job Din did extraordinarily well, something you don’t think he even realized he did. And you were damned to do your best by the kid. Even if in the end it hurt yourself. Because wasn’t that one of the biggestc, yet also inevitable, sacrifices of a parent?

“Thank you.” you whispered out and the kid finally looked a you then, showing you the hair in his hands to which you nodded. He dropped the hair before picking it back up, seeming satisfied by the feeling of the strands slipping through his fingertips.

“Do you ever. I don’t know. Want... some?”

You glance up a Din, your eyebrows shooting up at the way he awkwardly fumbled with his words. Din was usually a very clear man so you knew if he was struggling to express himself, it must be new territory for him. “Want what?”

Din didn’t bother to verbally answer, simply directing his head towards the kid. You let out a small ‘oh’ once understanding what he was getting at. “Kids?” You clarified to which the Mandalorian firmly nodded.

Your heart skipped in your chest at the thought. Maker, kids. You hadn't considered the idea of having kids in so long. For many years, it seemed an impossible task. Having a child meant allowing someone in, which was not something you excelled in. You also never found yourself too invested in the prospect of having kids of your own. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, though Jakku was never teeming with them. Kids were fine. You often found them to be funny, like little drunken adults just wandering around. And you could t deny that they were cute (though you would argue the child in your lap was even cuter than human children). But when you looked in the mirror before, you never saw a woman who could be a mother. It just wasn’t part of your personality. You had watched your own mother for so long and you loved her, but you hadn’t been similar to her at all, you two often having differing opinions. But your mother had seemed like such the picture-perfect mom to you and if you were nothing like her, how could you be a mom?

But now things were different. You were a different person than you used to be (a better one as well you would argue). And that was due to Din. Having allowed yourself to open up to someone taught you a lot of things about relationships, communication, and trust. And now there was someone in your life who you could kind of invision a future with. A very rocky, unclear future but a future nonetheless.

The kid also changed your perspective. When you met the child, you instantly felt a connection to him. You wanted to grab his small little body and hold him close, make him smile. It was like this instinctual side of you kicked in, a side you didn’t know you even had. And now you liked it. You liked caring for him and being there for important things. You loved to way he had begun to expand the way he communicated , whether that be with his facial expressions or noises. You loved that when he first woke up in the morning and saw either you or Din, a sleepy little smile would form that made your morning instantly better. You loved when he would giggle when you did something stupid or silly. You even liked when he needed your help, when his grabby hands reached out for something he wanted. Watching him grow was like a gift. So now the idea of kids sounded exponentially more appealing than it ever had before.

“I never really used to. Was never that type of person really. But now... yeah. Maybe one day.” You said the last part with a sheepish shrug. You didn’t know what one day meant, even to you. You had sworn to stick by Din, even once the kid was gone. And though there was no label and nothing official, there was clearly something happening between the two of you. You were certainly a little more than friends, though you didn’t want to jump to any assumptions and make a fool of yourself.

But you couldn’t help the way your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the thought of having kids with Din. You already knew he was paternal. You didn’t need to see beneath the armor to see the way he looked at the kid. He treated him like a son and did an exceptionally good job at protecting him and making him feel safe. And sometime, when you were with the kid and Din walked into the room, you could feel this rush of love wash over you, almost like you were feeling what the kid felt. You felt this immense sense of belonging and love, a type of admiration you couldn’t even begin to describe. He looked up to him in a way a kid is truly meant to look up to their dad. There was no doubt in your mind that Din would be a great father.

You cleared your throat and looked up at Din. “What about you?”

“Absolutely.” The answer didn't shock you too much in particular. It was the speed at which he answered. He hadn’t taken a second to even think about it or contemplate it. The answer had just leapt out of his mouth as soon as you had finished speaking. You couldn’t help the way you grinned at him but felt it drop slowly as he let out a loud sigh, his helmet dropping down. “But I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?”

“This life isn’t right for a kid. And I’m just not the kind of person.”

“Woah, that’s not true. Have you seen yourself with the kid?” You reached a hand out to rest on his leg, reassuringly squeezing it. His helmet finally lifted up a little but you could still see the way his body slightly dropped. “You would be a great dad, Din Djarin.”

“A Mandalorian isn’t the greatest dad.” You could definitely understand where Din was coming from. Life for Din was unstable, tumultuous. His whole job required a certain level of danger that he had to willingly accept every day. Definitely not the most conducive for raising a child.

But you had always imagined Din settling down one day, not even with you per say but just in general. He deserved that. Out of all the people you could imagine, he was one who deserved to find a home somewhere, marry someone, have a peaceful life with what he wanted. Now that you considered it, you didn’t even know if that was a possibility. “Is the whole Mandalorian thing a life time commitment or do you eventually retire?”

“I never really thought about it. I just figured I’d keep going until...well, let’s just say Mandalorians don’t have the greatest track record.”

Your stomach lurched at the meaning behind Dins answer. A job that was a game between life and death meant one of two things, you either lived or died. And you expected that eventually death caught up to the Mandalorians, no matter how strong or unshakeable they appeared. Your heart broke for Din. He had been living his days just working, expecting his life to be cut short because of the life he lived, the job he had, the armor he bore. You squeezed his leg even tighter, forcing him to look at you directly. You stared right into his visor, hoping you were making eye contact with him. “I’m here now. And I’m going to make sure you live a long life. A good one.”

Din just stared back at you, responding with a small jerk of the head. “Okay.”

You nodded in response before smiling, try to lighten the situation. “Good. So you better come up with a retirement plan, old man.”

Din chuckled at you, shaking his head jokingly. “Will do.” You grinned at him but felt it drop slightly as Din continued on. “We need to start looking for the kid’s kind.”

You knew this moment was coming and soon. You and Din had already spent too long playing house, justifying it with excuses like you were trying to come up with a good plan or you were letting time pass so things could calm down. But you and Din both knew the truth deep down. Things weren’t going to calm down and no good plan would be formed without starting somewhere.

You looked back down at the kid, who just gurgled as he saw your attention land upon him. Sometimes you thought he was too young for training, even though he was fifty. He was just a baby. A child. You had only received a sliver of training and that had been some of the most intense work you had ever done. You couldn’t imagine the same little child in your lap, the one whose most prized possession was a metal ball and who cried when he couldn’t eat a butterfly, was supposed to become a Jedi. But you also understood that you couldn’t even attempt to understand his full potential and just how truly powerful he was. And the earlier he started harnessing it, the better. Sometimes you wish you had been taught earlier. You understood what it felt like to be younger and capable of something you couldn’t understand. It was terrifying sometimes and other times just plain confusing.

You looked back up at Din. “Yeah. We do.”

“We need a plan.”

“We don’t even know where to start, Din.”

“Do you know of any... Jedi places?”

You laughed at his question. “No. I’m afraid I will be of no help to you in that regard. I barely know any more about Jedi’s than you do.”

Din nodded and you knew he was slightly disappointed, but not upset. You understood that feeling. Sometimes you wished you were better or knew something so you knew how to help out. But you had also accepted that you were who you were and nothing would change that.

“I need to find other Mandalorians. I was told they could help me.”

“Well, where are the Mandalorians?”

“I don’t know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “How do you not know? You guys don’t have like some meet up spot or something?”

Din chuckled, now finding your lack of knowledge about Mandalorians as funny as you find his lack of knowledge about Jedis. “They are called coverts and they are in secret locations for safety. There was one on Nevarro but that got exposed.”

“So you have no clue where any are?”

“No.”

You huffed. “Well then, what do we do?”

“I know some people who might know information about where Mandalorians are. We can start there.”

You nodded. “I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“So once we find a Jedi, we just hand him over? That’s it?” You found that to be such a bizarre thought. Jedi’s were supposed to be peacemakers but that hadn’t stopped a fair share of them from becoming Siths instead. How were you supposed to meet someone and just trust them enough right away to hand the child over? What if this person just took advantage of him or worse, handed him over to Gideon for a large prize?

“I don’t know how this works at all. We need to just find out more information before we get to that.”

“And what if we can’t find one?”

“I made a promise. He is under my care and I vowed to bring him to his kind. I will make sure it happens, no matter how long it takes.”

You admired Din’s dedication. You had never met an individual who was so devoted, whether that be devoted to his Creed or to the child or yourself. It was so admirable and you believed every word that came out of his mouth.

“You are a good man, Din.”

Din just nodded in response and you wondered if he ever believed you when you said that. You meant it with every part of your being but you don’t think he ever looked in the mirror and saw the man you saw. Saw the kind heart and the beautiful soul that laid hidden beneath all his armor. You just wanted to spend all your days showing him that, hoping one day he would see it. Look past the helmet and the job and see who he was.

“Din?”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do after all of this?” The question had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks now. You knew Din had said he wanted you to stay. And you knew your relationship had now progressed, though neither of you had placed any binding label on it. Those were great things and you were thrilled by them but you didn’t know what that would entail for you guys.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we find the kid a place to go, what do we do? Are you going back to bounty hunting? I mean can you even do that after you took the kid back?”

Din’s helmet tilted and you knew he was deep in thought. Part of you hoped he couldn’t and you felt selfish for it. You knew that was what Mandalorians did. They worked, endlessly. But you couldn’t imagine finding somewhere for the kid to go and then Din working night and day to catch bounties, traveling through the galaxy from one place to the next for the rest of his days. You wanted him to be able to relax, to live a life that he had never even thought to envision. A life where he could have kids when he wanted to or could just live in peace.

“If you could go to any planet, where would you go?”

You brought your head back, staring at Din with a perplexed expression. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just tell me.”

You thought before remembering a planet Mai had told you about. “Sesid. Mai said she read about it once. There is supposed to be so much ocean that you can’t walk anywhere where you don’t have a view of it. And where you don’t see blue, it is supposed to be so green with so many trees and plants.”

“Then we will go there.”

You let out a laugh. “Din, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know exactly what will happen after all of this. But I know I want to be with you. So once we find the kid a place to go, you and I will go to Sesid.”

You smiled up at him. You still didn’t know if that was even possible but you didn’t want to think about what would realistically happen. You wanted to believe, if only for this moment, that Din and you would help the kid and then be together, somewhere beautiful and happy. “Okay. Sesid it is.”

Din nodded in agreement. “I do know one thing for sure, though.

“What?”

Din leaned towards you, close enough that if he weren’t wearing the helmet you could kiss him. You leaned against him, your forehead tapping against the helmet. “I am going to do whatever I can to make you happy.”

__________

Once night fell, the two fell into their new routine. They didn’t discuss it but it kind of just fell in place. As soon as the child’s eyes slid closed, Din grabbed onto her, pulling her to crawl into his bed, the cot on the floor she used to sleep on being long forgotten now.

Din shuffled in next to her, closing the hatch to the cot and removing his helmet immediately after. Part of him wished so much that he could have a light on, just so he could see her face when she was laid in his bed, next to him. But for now, being able to feel her beside him was more than he could ever ask her.

Din rested his body against the padding of the thin mattress, feeling her immediately shuffle into him. Her head sat to rest on his shoulder and he could feel her breath tickle his neck. One of her arms wrapped around his chest, clinging on like it was a life preserver. Her legs tangled with his and she let out a loud sigh once she finally rested comfortably into him, letting the shape of his body contour into hers. “You are very comfortable, y’know?” She mumbled happily and Din felt a small smile grow on his face. He loved this. Loved the way she clung onto him and the way she hummed as he wrapped an arm around around her back, tracing her spine over her shirt with his finger tips.

“Yeah?” He responded, feeling himself turn his head in her direction. He couldn’t see her, only the silhouette of her body if he focused enough.

“Mmhhm.” She hummed and Din brought his lips down to kiss the top of her head. Her head tilted up in response and she brought her lips against his, allowing the two to mold together. Din couldn’t believe he had gone this long without kissing her. Whenever he did, it felt so divinely perfect in a way he couldn’t even begin to describe. It was warm and thrilling but also made Din feel safe in a way he never had before. Like no matter what happened, he would be okay as long as she was there. He had never felt that way with anybody else before, besides his parents so long ago. Nobody had ever wormed their way into his heart like she had.

She eventually pulled away, her breathing a little heavier than before, and rested her head back into her previous position, nuzzling into him. “Where are we headed now?”

“A planet on the outer rim. I know someone who might be able to help me find other Mandalorians.”

“A friend?”

Din couldn’t help the small chuckle that came out. “No. He is an old gangster. Gor Karesh is his name.”

“Oh, lovely. Old gangsters are my favorite.”

“Oh really?”

She let out a giggle at the jab and he could hear the grin on her lips. “Oh yeah. You better hope he doesn’t win me over cause I might just stay with him instead.”

Din narrowed his eyes, not understanding what she meant. “You aren’t seeing him.”

She paused for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “Yes, I am. I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t want you coming. You’ll be safer in the Crest.”

“Din, last time you left me alone in the Crest, a man ended up dead.” She didn’t say it with anger or annoyance. Din didn’t detect any harshness in the words. It was just said very matter-of-factly, reminding Din of himself. But it still didn’t stop the way his heart dropped into his stomach at her rebuttal. She wasn’t wrong. Last time she had begged him to come and he had refused, all in the name of protecting her. But he had seen where that ended and he didn’t want a repeat of it.

As much as it pained him, she was right. Din wanted nothing more than to protect her and keep her safe. But in a galaxy like this, with a man like Moff Gideon hunting for him, nothing was safe. It was all inherently dangerous. And Din knew she was more than capable. She was smart and strong. She could stand her own but he still felt uncomfortable with the idea of pushing her into danger directly. It felt like a betrayal to the promise he had made to protect both her and the kid. “Okay.”

She nodded her head against him. “I’ll be fine. You know, I might even be an advantage. I’m pretty smart.”

“I know you are, sweet one.”

“Well then, we will be fine. We’ve got your crazy Mando strength, the kids hand thing, and my quick-witted humor. It should go very smoothly.” Her body started shaking slightly with laughter and Din couldn’t help but to join in with her. He couldn’t remember the last time anything in his life had gone smoothly and he expected this to be no exception.

Once the laughing stopped, she rested her hand on his chest, right over his heart, and patted softly. “Really though. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

Din nodded, feeling slightly better with her reassurances. She was probably right. It would be okay especially with her there. Din had never really worked with anyone before but everything was different now. She was his rock and he trusted her. She pressed a small kiss onto his jaw and he could feel her smile into it.

“Din, this is perfect but I am going to be a pain in the ass.”

“What is it?”

“I’m freezing my ass off.”

Din let out a chuckle, shaking his head. It was probably from all the years he spent in hyperspace, but he was never cold while she managed to somehow always be cold. Even with his body heat and the one blanket over them, he could feel the goosebumps on her skin as he ran a hand over her arm. “You are always cold.”

She huffed. “It’s not my fault you are cold blooded and that this ship is colder than Hoth itself.”

“Where did your blanket go?”

“I think it’s still in my bag. I haven’t gone through it since I got back from Jakku.”

Din started to shuffle, pulling away from her to which she let out a loud whine. “Let me put on my helmet and I’ll grab it for you.”

She sighed contently at him and Din slipped the helmet on his head before opening the door to the cot. Some light from the hull of the ship reached his bed and he could see her face just slightly illuminated, a sleepy, lopsided smile on her face. She looked right back up at him. “Did I ever tell you that you are my hero?”

Din shook his head before slipping out of the bed. He walked over to a corner of the hull, where her bag had been sitting for days now. He bent down, opening it and saw the blanket on the top, with a small piece of folded paper with her name sprawled on it. He picked it up, feeling the weight of it in his fingers. “What is this?” he asked out of curiosity, not opening it.

“What is it?” She said, not bothering to get up to look.

“I think it’s a letter.” He looked back just in time to see her head pop up slightly. She furrowed her eyebrows before beginning to slip out of the bed, wrapping the blanket around her body.

“What does it say?”

“Just has your name on it.”

She eventually stumbled over to him and he reached his hand up, offering the letter to her. She reached a hand out from under the blanket, grabbing onto it and reading the writing on the front. “That is Mai’s handwriting.”

She brought her other hand out, the blanket resting on her shoulders and arms, and began to unfold the piece of paper. Din looked up at her as she began to read. He sat silently, even as her face dropped into a blank stare and her face paled. She suddenly folded the paper up, shaking her head. “What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But I can’t read it right now.” He saw the way her chest was heaving and how her eyes were frantically moving around, as if she was trying to follow something that wasn’t there.

“Sweet one?”

“It’s something about my family. That’s as far as I got.” Din stood up and looked down at her. She didn’t look at him, her face twisting up as she frantically shook her head as if begging someone to stop. “I can’t do this. I’m am finally okay with everything and I don’t need to read something that will just mess with me.”

“But what if it is something important?”

“If none of them told me and I didn’t find out for this many years, I am sure it can wait.” She scrunched the paper up in her hands, tossing it into the opening of her bag. “Besides, we have to focus on the kid. This can wait. He can’t.”

Din slowly nodded and she forced a smile onto her face. He hated when she did this, when she buried everything in and just put on a smile. He knew it was how she coped and he could identify with that. He was similar, but instead of smiling, he buried everything down and then hunted a bounty to forget.

Instead of pushing her, he held up the blanket that was still grasped in his hand. She looked at it and chuckled. “Maybe I can sleep now since I won’t be freezing.”

“Are you okay?” Din couldn’t help but to ask.

“I will be as long as you come keep me warm.” Her hand reached out for one of his and tugged him over. “Let’s go to bed.”

__________

“Well, this is just such a beautiful place. We should come back one day when we are really able to enjoy the sights and sounds.” You sarcastically mumbled, arms protectively held over your chest as you looked all around you. The walls surrounded you, all of which covered in a plethora of graffiti, parts of them crumbling into pieces. The outer rim was not a pleasant place in general, you knew that. But you had finally landed on the planet where Koresh was supposed to be and as soon as you stepped outside the Crest, you just knew it was a real shit hole. And walking through the streets of whatever town you were just confirmed it.

It was completely dark outside, almost totally silent. You didn’t see any other people around, except for pairs of red glowing eyes that hid in dark corners and made the child whimper. You looked back to the child, who was sitting in his pram that floated beside you. His small ears tucked in slightly on himself and he buried himself into the pram slightly, big eyes looking all around. Looking over at Din, you didn’t detect any sense of unease. He was on what you’d like to call Mando mode. His head was aiming straight forward, attention on the path in front of him. He stood tall and straight, seeming like such an intimidating figure even in such a shady place. He was completely silent, not speaking. He didn’t like to talk much in public and you weren’t sure if it was because he was uncomfortable to do so or if it was a matter of maintaining a reputation that made others cower in fear.

You let out a sigh at his lack of response until you turn the corner, coming to a door. You see the first individual of the night, a Twi’lek standing guard who stares back at the Mandalorian. He doesn’t greet the two of you with anything but a harsh expression. So much for a welcome.

“I’m here to see Gor Koresh.” Din directed, his voice sounding strong through the modulator. Despite the demand, the Twi’lek still doesn’t speak, just looking over at you before his eyes landed on the Child. The kid looked up at him, cooing slightly.

The man looked away, moving aside and pushing the door open for you to pass through. “Enjoy the fights.” was all he said as you and Din entered. As soon as you walked into the building, you felt your face scrunch up. The place smelled like ale and blood strongly, slapping you in the face as soon as you stepped through the door frame. You walked down some stairs, studying the scene in front of you. Crowds of humans and creatures, some of which you didn’t recognize, sat or stood amongst benches, yelling loudly and banging their fists. You saw some woman sitting besides the men, some looking less impressed by the entertainment than their counterparts and others looking just as engrossed as the others. In the center of the room sat a platform where two Gamorreans were fighting wildly. They were both fearsome creatures with less than desirable faces. They snarled and huffed, though the sound was drowned out by the yelling in several different alien languages that filled the room.

Din strolled over to a bench, seeming unbothered by the scene before him and not in any way distracted by the environment. He plopped down onto a booth, next to a Abyssin you assumed to be the man of the hour, Koresh. He stood out from the crowd, his body draped in richer fabrics and a large ring on one of his chubby green fingers. You sat down next to Din, watching as the child’s pram hovered right beside you.

The Abyssin didn’t seem bothered or intimidated by Din’s presence. He was s gangster, probably used to having bounty hunters around. Probably hired a few himself, perhaps had one or two come after him even. “You know this is no place for a child.” He spoke, his gaze landing on the child and you for just a moment before going back to the fight, his eye glistening with excitement as he appeared totally enamored by the barbaric nature of it.

“Wherever I go, he goes.” You almost wanted to smile at Din’s response. It sounded intimidating coming from him, but you knew the sentiment and honestly behind it. You refrained from doing so, keeping a blank face and trying to keep your gaze on Gor Koresh. You weren’t much for watching fighting, finding it dull and tasteless, though you couldn’t help but to find the banging and rumbling to be distracting.

Koresh just let a chuckle out. “So I’ve heard.”

“I’ve been quested to bring him to his kind. If I can locate other Mandalorians, they can help guide me. I’m told you know where to find them.” You weren’t surprised by Din’s directness or lack of small talk. This was just the kind of man he was, part of it being him and part of it being due to the armor he wore.

The man let out a sigh. “It’s uncouth to talk business immediately. Just enjoy the entertainment.” The creature finally tore his sight away from the fight, giving you a fleeting glance as a smile curved his lips. You knew that smile very well, had seen many men and creatures wear it before. And usually, it didn’t end well for them. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend? She is quite the beauty.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyebrows raised and face scrunched up in slight disgust. He couldn’t even try to be a little subtle, or at the least more original.. You let out a sigh and looked at him, even though his attention was back on the fight. “How about you just help us?”

Din didn’t turn to look back at you but you saw the way one of his fists clenched. This was his domain and he wasn’t used to others being with him while he worked. And you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, but you also weren’t going to let this man look at you like that. You wanted to say a lot more, but knew your mouth could get you in trouble and decided to leave it at that.

The Abyssin let out a huff. “Didn’t know you kept women around. Or children too.” The words were directed at Mando, him not bothering to respond to you directly. You wanted to say something but jumped slightly at the sound of loud clanging. The child cooed in distress as you looked at the fight. The two Gamorreans were clanging their axes together, one of which knocking the other to the ground. Cheers rang through the ground but Koresh looked rather annoyed.

“Bah! My Gamorrean’s not doing well. Kill him! Finish him!” An axe was brought down to the fallen warrior, who dodged just in time to avoid the slamming down of the blade. Koresh smiled just barely at the sight before glancing at Din. “Do you gamble, Mando?”

You couldn’t imagine Din being a gambler. It seemed so unlike him, almost against the ideas he held close to his heart. He wasn’t one to trust luck. He depended on himself and nothing else. “Not when I can avoid it.” He responded.

“What about you, sweetheart? Do you gamble?”

You rolled your eyes at the question. “No. I don’t.”

“I do. Which is why I’m the rich one here.” Koresh responded, letting out a chuckle at his own jab. “How about this? I’ll bet you the information you seek that this Gamorrean’s going to die within the next minute and a half...and all you have to put up in exchange is your shiny beskar armor.”

You felt your eyes widen slightly. You knew Din could handle this creep and you knew that beskar was worth a lot. It was no wonder Koresh wanted it. But you couldn’t imagine Din would be willing to put it on a silly bet based purely on luck. You couldn’t help but to scoff in response. “His armor isn’t on the table.”

Koresh smiled at your harsh response. “Okay. How about we bet the woman then? Wouldn’t mind a new friend.”

Din for the first time looked over at you for just a second, seeing the way your jaw locked. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was angry by the way he moved. He turned over, looking back at the man. His fist was clenched against his lap but he didn’t bite the bait, just calmly responding. “I’m prepared to pay you for the information. I’m not leaving my fate, or hers, up to chance.”

“Nor am I.” In a flash, his hands reaches into his coat, whipping out a blaster at a surprisingly quick speed. A shot rings out in the building, one of the Gamorreans dropping dead, his axe clanging down beside him. You hear gasps and a cry ring out from the audience at the sudden end of the fight. Your head whips over to Koresh, just in time to see several men rise from the bench behind him, all of them whipping out guns that aim right at Din’s head. You felt your chest squeeze up slightly, panic settling into your bones. But Din just remained seated, even as the crowd yelled and rushed out of the stadium from all directions and Koresh rose from his seat, his own blaster aimed at the helmet. You couldn’t help but to wonder how he could always remain so calm. You felt your hand itch towards the blaster on your hip, but you didn’t know what you would do with it. One blaster against a handful of men, all with their own loaded guns, wasn’t a fair fight by a long shot. Trying to do anything might just get you and Din killed immediately so you waited, seeing how Din handled it.

Koresh laughed at your panicked expression. “Thank you for coming to me. Normally, I have to seek out remnants of you Mandalorians in your hidden hives to harvest your precious shiny shells.” You felt rage bloom within you as you realized what this mans job was, your eyes widening in anger. He made money off ruining people’s lives, ripping the amor that means the world to the Mandalorians off of them with no regard for human decency. No wonder he was so rich. “Beskar’s value continues to rise. I’ve grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse. And then take your woman as my new companion.” He chuckled once again, his eyes running down your body with a disgusting smile.

“Tell me where the Mandalorians are and I’ll walk out of here without killing you.“ Din, please, please know what you are doing. You trusted Din and you knew some stories of what he has done, though he never wanted to talk about it too much or seem like he was bragging. Din was an annoyingly humble man and it made it hard to find out just what exactly he was capable of. You knew that he was strong, unnaturally so, and you had seen him in action before. But you hadn’t seen enough to know what he was truly able to do. And you couldn’t help the way your heart slammed in your chest, even upon hearing his confident voice make the demand.

Koresh’s face dropped slightly. “I thought you said you weren’t a gambler...”

That was when you saw it out of the corner of your eye. You had completely forgotten about his whistling birds, him having explained it to you weeks ago when you almost hit a button that triggered it. The child must have also sensed what was about to happen, reaching out quickly to hit the button that closed the lid to the pram, sinking into it before the lid closed. You figured he had the right idea but you just let your hand hover over the blaster, waiting for the next move.

“I’m not.” Din said. Suddenly, the whistling birds shot out, instantly hitting all four of the henchmen and causing them to drop immediately to the floor. You feel Din’s arm reach out, pushing you away, and you brought your own leg up to kick the pram back, already knowing what was going to happen next.

The Gamorrean who had been on the platform recovering, rises up, snarling. You see as he was ready to jump down, onto Din. But Din scoots over to the side, causing the large creature to slam down onto the bench, the wood under him cracking and splitting open. You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips as you saw him pass out instantly. “Now that was too easy.” You chuckled.

Your hand instantly reaches for your blaster as you look away from the fallen fighter. The Twi’lek from the entrance of the building reached for Din, grabbing him from behind. You rise up the blaster quicker than you ever had before, firing off a shot that hit the guard right in the neck, causing him to release Din and drop down to the ground, joining the others. Three people run after Din as Koresh rushed out of the building, trying to escape while you two were distracted by the fighting. You turned to check on the kid, finding the pram still closed before running towards the exit.

You had just made it out the exit when you heard footsteps charging behind you, to find one of the Zabraks that was attacking Din coming after you now. A You raised your blaster but found it to be no use when the creature dropped dead before your finger could even pull the trigger, revealing a blade sticking out of his back as he landed face down on the dirty ground. Your head whipped up to find Din behind him, only pausing for a moment to look you over for any damage before charging towards Koresh.

You followed closely behind, only to stumble into his back when the Mandalorian stopped dead in his tracks, your body falling into the metal of his armor and clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. In what seemed to be a flash, Koresh had his legs stuck in Din’s grappling hook and his whole body was being lifted up by a street lamp. Din didn’t stop until the mans body was dangling upside down, his head only a few feet above the ground.

Din stepped forward, facing the creature who now looked absolutely terrified. Part of you wanted to laugh at the sight but instead you stepped forward and glared at him. The man started swaying, trying to break out of the hooks with no luck. “All right, stop, stop!” He yelled out, looking at Din. “I’ll tell you where he is. But you must give me your word that you won’t kill me.”

“I promise you will not die by my hand. Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?“ Your eyebrow raised at the odd wording of Din’s answer until you saw the red eyes that lined the streets start caving in slowly, seeming to stare into the scene before them. My hand, he had said.

Karesh let out a groan. “Tatooine.”

“What?” you and Din both said out-loud and the man just let out another groan, face twisted in discomfort.

“The Mando I know of is on Tatooine.“ he repeated.

“I’ve spent much time on Tatooine. I’ve never seen a Mandalorian there.“ Din responded, tilting his helmet just slightly as if thinking, mulling over in his mind whether or not the man was lying to you. You trusted Din, but Tatooine also seemed like it wouldn’t be the most surprising place for a bounty hunter to be. That planet didn’t have the greatest reputation, lots of sleaze bags and criminals roaming around there from what you heard. Wouldn’t be the most shocking thing for a Mandalorian to be there, whether for work or just because of the environment.

“My information is good, I tell you. The city of Mos Pelgo. I swear it by the Gotra!” Another groan left his lips, even louder this time. You rolled your eyes and looked over at Din.

The Mandalorian stood still before giving you a slight nod. “Tatooine it is, then.”

You brought your hand to your waist to grab the knife strapped to it, preparing to cut the man down when Din’s hand reached out for your wrist, holding it still. You looked up at him, waiting for an explanation but he only stared down at you, shaking his head just the slightest bit. You let go of the handle of the knife, leaving it at your side, and looked back at Koresh who looked back at you two expectantly. You saw the red eyes still there, still glowing in the darkness behind him ominously.

Din let go of your wrist and turned, starting to walk down the street with the pram following behind him. Part of you felt like you should cut down the gangster, until you remembered how he made his living. Ruining the lives of other Mandalorians just for some beskar to make him a richer man that he already is. Instead of cutting him, you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster to which his face scrunched up in confusion. “Koresh, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

You began to walk away, following after Din who slowed his pace for you to catch up when the Abyssin started to thrash wildly, panic settling into every pore of his body. “Wait! You can’t leave me like this!”

You turned back one last time and glared at him. “And you can’t take off a Mandalorians helmet. Yet you did. Many times.”

The man continued to scream, the red eyes caving in on him as you looked back at Din, catching up with him. You heard begging and screaming from behind you, but drowned it out. Part of you felt like you should feel guilty. But he had threatened Din. Ruined lives for money.

There was no guilt, no sadness at what was happening in this very moment. Instead you just felt like your body was energized, the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through you. You had spent so much time now on the Crest with Din, and before that you were just on Yungbrii. You had to fight off a couple creeps here and there, but nothing like that. Nothing that made blood course through your body and your heart pound in your ears. You found you could understand why some people found this addicting, why some people chose to be bounty hunters. It was thrilling in a way you’d never felt before.

You glanced over at Din, studying him. He looked completely unbothered and maybe that was because you couldn’t see his face, but you had a feeling the grizzly attack behind him brought him no sense of upset or guilt. You imagined he felt what you were feeling but ten times stronger. The Mandalorians were his people, his clan, and they had been attacked by the selfish monster. You couldn’t help but to wonder if he had any attention of letting Koresh go, even if he hadn’t attacked the two of you.

Shaking away your thoughts, you spoke loudly over the noises behind you which were now slowly drowning away as you continued on. “Where are we headed now?”

“Tatooine.” he responded and you nodded. You supposed it was the right place to start, even if Din didn’t know of any Mandalorians there. “You are okay, right? Nothing is hurt?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face at the way his tone softened, the way his whole figure relaxed. You found it amazing how he could change from bad-ass, killer Mandalorian to your soft, caring Din so quickly.

“Yeah. I am fine. You okay?” Din only nodded in response. You looked away from him, to the path in front of you before speaking again. “You know, I have to admit something.”

Din continued walking, staring into the environment around him. “What, cyar’ika?”

“I don’t know if this sounds bad, but that was kind of fun.” You smiled up at him.

Din stopped walking for just a moment, looking over at you and you could hear a chuckle pass through the modulator. “You did well.”

You winked at him before continuing to walk on, the Mandalorians boots crunching behind you as he followed. “Told you I was handy. Now let’s go find this Mandalorian.”

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian imagine #sw #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars imagine #star wars #the mandalorian chapter nine

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lynn-writes-things · 3 years

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Birthday’s

“For a prompt, maybe a Hunter and reader fic where the bad batch help celebrate the reader's birthday? Maybe some fluff or smut?“

Thank you so much for the request, and thank you SO so much for the donation!! I appreciate it more than words can say!

Word count: 2470

*takes place pre-Echo

Birthday’s weren’t really a big deal in the GAR, seeing as though the Jedi were taught to remove any attachment to the day of their births; the clones didn’t even have birthdays that they knew of; and any civilian officer was likely too busy to remember, let alone to celebrate. It just wasn’t something that you did often. Of course, you knew your birthday – knew the exact date and time, because as a child, you had asked your mother about it every single year until you memorized the time to the last minute.

At one point in your life, your birthday had been your favorite day of the year. More so than Life Day, even. You had always loved the festivities – the focus on you; people showing how much they care about you; not to mention the gifts and the celebrating. You’ll never forget the year you became legal to drink, and your friends had taken you out for fun. It had been a night to forget – though the events leading up to the drinking were fond ones that you will treasure forever.

That time of year was drawing near again, and you couldn’t help but talk about it to the boys – who you’d been on assignment with for the past several months – in fact, it had almost been a year. You figured they wouldn’t like you talking about your birthdays of the past much, considering that they’d never really experienced a birthday, but to your surprise they all encouraged you to keep talking.

“When I was really little, my parents filled my entire bedroom with balloons, so that it would surprise me when I woke up – only I woke up too early, and I sat alone in my bedroom for hours just playing with the balloons. When my parents came to check on me, they couldn’t stop laughing.” You explained with a little laugh. It was early, and you all were drinking cups of caff. You swirled yours around, letting the swirl entrance you deeper into your memories.

“Then, when I was a teenager,” You smile, this memory a particularly pleasant one. “Me and some friends went out to this bakery with her parents – they had money, like they had mad credits. They took me cake-tasting to decide which kind I liked best for my cake, they told me that was my present from them. I wasn’t going to complain- free cake!” You laugh. “Anyways, I tried this one kind, (your favorite cake here), and it literally change my life- I’ve never had any cake that was as good as that. It’s kind of hard to find, but there’s a really nice bakery on Naboo that has it for a lot cheaper than the fancy place did.” You explain, considering making a special trip just for some cake, then immediately telling yourself that it’s a stupid idea.

“What about when you were an adult?” Crosshair asks. “Surely it gets more boring.”

“Oh, it does,” You laugh. “It gets so kriffing boring after a while. But, certain ages grant you certain milestones. Like, when you turn twenty, they let you drink. My twentieth birthday was insane- my friends made me go out to this bar with them – they were all older than me – and they ordered this drink for me, it tasted like starcherries and Mandalorian oranges – it was so good.” You exclaim, missing the taste of your first (legal) drink. “Anyways, they called it a Sailor’s Sunset, I think? But, it was a super fun night, we danced for hours, and I met this really cute guy, and… Well…” You laugh, cheeks heating up at the memory. “Anyways!” You exclaim, clearing your throat. “It was a really fun night. I also learned that I could shoot Corellian whiskey better than any of my friends.”

“Bet you can’t shoot it better than us.” Hunter teased.

“You’re probably right,” You laugh. “But I’d be willing to give it a shot.” You joke, and there’s a chorus of groans at your terrible pun that you couldn’t help but to make.

“So, when is your birthday, anyways?” Tech asks, ready to mark it in his holopad.

“It’s next week, on the second.” You explain. Not that you’d been keeping track of the days when you thought it might be close – not at all. That most definitely was not the case.

The night of the first, when you fell asleep, the boys all got up and got down to business.

“Okay boys,” Hunter began. “This has to be special. We want her to feel like she’s one of us, right?” He asks, and they all respond “Right!”.

“Crosshair, you’ve got the whiskey?” He asks.

“And the mixers.” He says. He didn’t know how to make a Sailor’s Sunset, but he was willing to give it a try, for your sake.

“Wrecker, you’ve got the balloons?”

“Yep! I might’ve gotten too many, though.” He says.

“No such thing- this is Y/N we’re talking about.” Hunter replies. “Tech, you’ve got the cake?”

“Took it out of the freezer yesterday, it should be defrosted by morning.” He replies. Getting the cake from Naboo without you figuring out what they were doing had been a challenge, but they had just barely managed to pull it off while you were in the refresher.

“Alright,” Hunter said, satisfied. “Bad Batch, let’s throw Y/N a birthday to remember.” He says with a smile, and they all get down to work. They all start blowing up balloons, with a goal to fill the barracks with the blown up latex. Wrecker had gotten different types- colorful ones; black and white ones; he even had found some that when blown up would read “happy naming day!” which was as close to “happy birthday” as he could find. They meant the same thing, more or less. He just hoped you didn’t get offended by the slight difference.

It took hours to blow all of the balloons up, but once it was done, there was a thick layer covering the floor, as well as a few smuggled into your bunk with you – but just a few, so you likely wouldn’t pop any and scare yourself awake. Though, Crosshair thought that would’ve been kriffing hilarious. Mean, but hilarious. He figured if it happened, you’d end up laughing once the initial fear wore off – he knew your sense of humor pretty well. But, still, Hunter refused to let him risk it.

“Wait,” Tech began. “Does anyone know how to make her caff?”

“I do,” Hunter answered. “She likes it the same way I do. She told me that before.”

“We’ll have to wake up before she does.” Crosshair says.

“That won’t be too hard,” Hunter answers. “Her alarm is always set for 0700, we just have to wake up before then.”

“How do you know that?” Tech asks.

“We usually wake up at the same time. You catch on to things like that after a while.” He replies with a shrug. He was used to waking up with you, the two of you would often talk over your morning cups of caff before the others woke up. It was the one time of day where there was no stress- just peace between the two of you. It was easy to forget about the war in times like those, which meant everything to you both. Neither of you would ever miss a morning, both cherishing your morning caff-sessions more than either of you would admit. During these early-morning moments, the two of you had gotten very close with each other, and shared very intimate conversations. Secrets were shared, as well as light-hearted compliments. You had a feeling the long-haired Sergeant liked you, which was good, because you liked him as well, though neither of you would confess. The early mornings weren’t a time for heavy confessions like that. But your birthday? Oh, your birthday might be, Hunter thought, mentally preparing himself for that night.

The boys had picked out a planet that they knew had a lake that was safe to swim in, with little risks for attack. Just private enough to take the night off and celebrate over drinks, cake, and swimming. Tech had put in the coordinates, and you were currently on your way there.

When you woke up, it wasn’t to your alarm blaring- it was to the smell of caff, and the boys saying, “Happy birthday!”. You smiled and groggily rubbed your tired eyes, looking up at them all with looks of adoration.

“You guys didn’t have to— Balloons!!” You cut yourself off, getting excited about seeing all the multicolored latex bulbs all over the ground, and all over your bunk. “Did you guys really-?”

“We did.” Hunter says. You sit up and he hands you the cup of caff. You take a sip and smile; it’s exactly how you’d make it for yourself. You can’t help but sway back and forth in happiness.

“Maker, you guys are my everything.” You say, taking a sip. “Thank you.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” Tech says. You get out of your bunk, and follow them out to the main area, where you see balloons strung up on the wall messily that say: “Happy naming day!” and your smile is so wide that it hurts your cheeks. Then you see the cake box, and you gasp.

“You didn’t-!”

“We did.”

“When?!” Your voice had jumped several octaves in your excitement, and you felt bad for Hunter, though he was smiling at your excitement. He didn’t give a damn that you were yelling, or how high your voice had gotten. He was just happy that you were happy.

“When we went to Naboo last,” Tech answers. “It’s been in the freezer.”

“How didn’t I notice anything—”

“That’s sort of what we’re known for, Y/N.” Hunter smiles.

“Yeah, but—” You can’t help the tears of happiness that well in your eyes, your heart swelling in your chest. You can’t believe that they’d go through all of this just for you. Crosshair puts a hand on your shoulder, and you quickly turn to just hug him. It catches him off guard, but he smiles regardless, holding you in return.

“Thank you guys.” You sob. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too, Y/N.” Hunter says, preparing to say something slightly different later. But that could wait for now.

“Looks like we’re approaching,” Tech says, checking the navigation. You would’ve asked which planet, though you knew he wouldn’t tell you – Tech always made you guess where you were going. Always. You weren’t complaining, though, it was always a fun game, not to mention a good way to boost your memorization of the planets.

Once you were landed, you stepped out and realized that you were staring at a lake. Not a grimy pond, but a real, actual lake. The water was so clear that you could see to the bottom – it didn’t look too terribly deep, either. A long time ago you had told the boys that you loved swimming, you were surprised that they even remembered the comment.

You decide to all swim in your blacks to avoid any awkwardness with you being the only naked female around, which you’re thankful for. Though of course, the boys take their shirts off at least. You do your best not to stare at Hunter or his impressively toned muscles—You absolutely do not get caught by Crosshair, who laughs at you, but promises to keep your secret. You swim around for what feels like hours. You’re in and out of the water until the sun starts to go down, and you suggest drinks. You all climb out and start trying to dry off. Tech gets the cake cut, and Crosshair pours a round of shots for everyone. You take yours and grimace at the taste- it had been awhile since you had Corellian whiskey. It had been a long while.

“What’s that face for?” Hunter teases. “Thought you said you could out-drink us.”

“I said I might be able to.” You laugh. “If you’re looking for a challenge, Sarge, you’re on.”

“You don’t want to do that,” He laughs.

“Trust him, you don’t.” Wrecker tacks on, clapping his brother on the back. “He can even drink me under the table.”

“How—”

“Here, try this,” Crosshair says, thrusting a glass filled with a peachy-pink drink in it at you.

“What is it?” You ask.

“It should be a Sailor’s Sunset.” He sighs. You giggle – the color’s all wrong. But you try it regardless, and it’s shockingly just as good as you remember. You hum in appreciation.

“It’s really good,” You smile at him. “But it could use a smidge more cherry.” Crosshair smiles, pleased with himself for guessing the drink correctly.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Hunter speaks up, nodding away from the others, towards the tree-line. You follow him over, and he down the shot in his hand before continuing.

“I figured now’s a good time to tell you,” He says, and pauses. You know where he’s going with this before he even starts, and you can’t help the smile that takes over your face. “I—”

“I like you too, Hunter.” You say, cutting him off.

“I don’t think you understand how much,” He says. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”

“Trust me, I understand.” You gently caress his cheek with your free hand. He leans into your touch, looking at you with a softness in his eyes that was usually reserved for your early morning chats. You don’t need to say more- neither of you do. He leans forward and kisses you, your lips connecting in a slow, passionate dance. You only break apart when you hear cheering from behind you, where the boys are watching with smiles on their faces.

“I love you, Hunter.” You say quietly, your nose brushing against his; his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiles.

After several shorter kisses, you all go back to the ship and enjoy some cake. It’s just as good as you remember it being all those years ago, and you thank them ten-fold for it. For everything. You cry again as you thank them, and Hunter wraps an arm around you. Wrecker is on your other side, and he wraps an arm around both you and Hunter. Hunter gestures for Tech and Crosshair to come over, you all move to the floor. Crosshair leans against Wrecker, and Tech settles between your legs, leaning back against you as your arms wrap around him.

“I love you boys.”

“We love you too.” They all reply, and it doesn’t take long for you all to fall asleep like that. It’s heaven, you think. This was just simply heaven.

#the clone wars x reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #lots of fluff #love #lottttts of fluffy loviness #the boys care about you #so fucking much #birthdays #birthdays with the bad batch

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tiffdawg · 3 years

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The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

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… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer.

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip.

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight.

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!”

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.”

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he responded quickly.

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word.

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din.

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.”

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

“Last time–”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.”

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

“Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed.

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.”

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.”

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.”

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted.

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night.

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped.

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed.

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both.

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

“Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”

“Of your future on Lah’mu?”

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.”

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction.

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him.

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire.

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling.

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.”

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #fic: the light of stars

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ooops-i-arted · 3 years

Note

I know that considering (TCW-2008) refs/characters in this episode that it won’t be your fav but can you please share your child development thoughts for S02E05 please??

They may have been stuff I wasn’t fond of but there were so many cute Baby & Dad moments to make up for it!!

First of all, the puppeteers deserves ALL THE AWARDS for bringing Baby Yoda to life! Not just making Baby “come alive” in general, but also that sort-of-awkward way children move when they don’t have complete confidence in their limbs yet. The are doing a phenomenal job this season and I hope they are all safe and healthy and have all the chocolate they want. Not only is it fantastic from a special effects perspective, it really highlights how far Baby has come now that he’s not stuck in a pod all day and implies that Din is trying to keep him active and physically healthy, and giving him opportunities to develop his muscles and muscle control. (Just imagine them playing a makeshift game of chase through the Razor Crest!)

I absolutely loved Din saying “Hey, what did I tell you” because I have said those exact words in that exact tone SO MANY TIMES and also his Dad Voice is getting so much better! Baby actually listens to him and understands that Din expects him to listen! Of course he still wants the ball (and apparently takes it enough that Din has been practicing his Dad voice on that too, “What did I say about that” is another phrase I also use at work).

Though there may have been another reason he wants the ball this time - as a comfort item, like a child bringing their favorite stuffie to the first day of school. Baby was there when the Armorer told Din to find Jedi to bring the Baby to. He has been listening a lot when Din talks about finding Jedi to train him and give him to. I think Baby is very, very aware of the fact that the end goal is to leave him with the Jedi and is very afraid of leaving his beloved father. He would’ve had stable caretaker(s) at the Jedi Temple but in the last twenty years who knows what’s happened to him. His subdued, don’t-draw-attention-to-myself behavior in Season 1 definitely makes me think he’s been neglected, bare minimum, and possibly abused. Din not only treats him kindly but actually takes care of his needs, is kind to him, and is the most stable presence in his life. Of course he’d be terrified to leave him!

I think that’s also why he doesn’t play ball with Ahsoka, so to speak. We all know he can lift a mudhorn, a rock is no problem for him. He could do it in a heartbeat. But I think he understood that if he showed off for her, Ahsoka might take him away. So he refused for that, and because it’s very common at that age to refuse to do something to regain control of a situation. (That’s why you get kids enjoying telling you “No!” and the whole terrible twos thing.) If he refuses, he stays in control of what’s happening. But of course Din knows exactly how to tempt him with his favorite ball, and kids do want to please adults they like. Anything to hear that sweet, sweet positive reinforcement. So it wasn’t just the shiny ball that convinced Baby - it was the fact that Din was the one playing with him, and that Din so enthusiastically tells him good job. (And Din is noticeably more into it when using the orb. Maybe he and Baby have played with it before? So it’s more natural to both of them. And he was truly so proud of his boy!! It was adorable.)

It’s the same with hearing his real name, which he presumably hasn’t heard in twenty years. He responds when Ahsoka says it, but when Din says it? He’s instantly turned around, ears perked all the way up in “happy” mode. It’s special when Din says it, because Din is special to him.

Which then ties into the whole attachment thing. Baby is very healthily attached to Din. There’s a reason we stick kids with the same teacher for a year plus at a time, it’s because kids are comfortable with a regular person they can get to know, just like adults are. To Baby, Ahsoka is just some orange stranger and Din is his dad. Of course he is more attached to Din and has fears over losing him, especially if he’s been deprived of that for the last 20-odd years! It’d be different if Din was sticking around to transition Baby somewhere new, or just dropping him off for lessons. But leaving a parent permanently and abruptly after likely previous trauma? That would be horrible for Baby.

And re: The Jedi + attachments Ahsoka (and Filoni) are wrong on that. The Jedi do not forbid attachments, only letting your attachments rule you. Ki-Adi-Mundi is married and so were others, and there are plenty of Padawan-Master relationships to see - for example, Obi-Wan was attached to Qui-Gon and clearly loved him and was devastated by his loss, but it’s only when he conquers his emotions and calms himself is he able to defeat Maul, and afterward is implied/shown to mourn Qui-Gon and handle his grief in a healthy way. Anakin doesn’t fall because he’s attached to his loved ones. He falls because he’s willing to commit murder and genocide over his attachments. So “I can’t teach Grogu because he’s attached to you” is bullshit. “I can’t teach Grogu because he is attached to you and needs to be safely transitioned into Jedi life in an environment that is comfortable and safe for him, with your help as his adoptive father, and I have no way to do that here and/or don’t feel comfortable doing that” is much more accurate. (This is probably what would’ve happened if the Order was still around, anyway, and/or how he was actually taken in - the 3D TCW episode with the Jedi children shows the bounty hunters tricking the parents to kidnap the kids, implying that a real Jedi would work with the family to transition the children in a safe and healthy manner. The Rodian even says the Jedi have already spoken to her iirc.)

Of course even if Grogu is unhealthily attached to Din (which he isn’t, imo, he behaves like a child at a normal level of attachment to a regular caretaker he loves) then ignoring it and not doing anything about it is equally bad.... as we’ve already seen when he got upset with Cara last season. Baby must learn to control his powers so he doesn’t hurt himself or others, especially since he’s so young he doesn’t always have full control over his own emotions. “Big” emotions can be a lot for a kid; a screaming meltdown is bad enough when the kid can’t yeet you with their mind. I’ve been hit, kicked, bitten, scratched, had toys thrown at me, even been hit with heavy wooden blocks. A Grogu out of control with his emotions and using the Force? Terrifying. Yes, his attachment to Din makes him more vulnerable to his fears and anger - we’ve seen him choke Cara and while he only held back the mudhorn, in theory he could’ve done more. But that is just all the more reason to teach him control. Ignore harmful behavior and it will only get worse, and Din isn’t really equipped to help him navigate that since Din doesn’t understand the Force and can’t understand what Grogu says.

(Also lol at “He doesn’t understand” “He does.” You can 100% tell when kids understand you perfectly and are refusing to do it, even when a parent is making excuses for their darling. xD Especially since kids will frequently act/react differently to their parents versus other caretakers.)

“He’s hidden his abilities to survive over the years” I call partial bullshit on that. No, I don’t think Baby has done any long-term planning or had thoughts along the lines of “I’m being hunted and need to protect myself by pretending not to be a Force-user.” But I think he has probably figured out people react a certain way when he does Force things and perhaps decided “I shouldn’t make things float because then people will grab me/I will get taken away/other consequence I don’t like will happen.” That’s more in line with a toddler’s level of thinking/comprehension. And it adds greater weight to him saving Din from the mudhorn - he didn’t know how Din would react to him using the Force, if Din would try and hurt him or lock him in the pod or whatever, but he still wanted to save Din. Overall though I think Baby’s Force-use is in line with a toddler’s thoughts. “I want X to happen, I can make that happen with the Force, so I will make X happen unless I’m more scared of [consequence] happening.”

So overall a pretty revealing episode for Baby/Grogu. (I’m not used to the new name yet tbh.) Although I’m worried about how many times it will take Din hearing it to realize that yes, you are this baby’s father, get that through your beskar-plated skull.

#baby yoda meta #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #baby yoda #grogu

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passable-talent · 4 years

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*grabby hands* childhood Jedi training rival x anakin skywalker? 🥺🥺

you ever had a boy own your whole heart? I didn’t even realize how much I loved this man when I watched the prequels at 7 until I watched them again at 19- literally a gay awakening, twice. unprecidented.

also. I LIVED BITCH

Three years old, and you’ve never known anything other than the Jedi Temple. You’re learning words quickly- words like ‘up’, and ‘down’, and ‘Force’.

Five years old, and you’re told about how your parents sent you to Coruscant with pride, because you were force sensitive. They knew that someday, you were to be a Jedi.

Age seven. The time is drawing closer for you to become an initiate. You’re doing well in your classes, and you’re capable of some deep meditation, even if Master Yoda always comments that you’re too distracted.

Age nine, and there’s an eleventh added to your clan of younglings. His name is Anakin Skywalker, and he seems cool. He’s a bit old to start his training, but he’s part of your clan now, so everyone helps him study and catch up to the rest of the group.

You’re eleven years old. The initiate trials are only a few years away. Anakin is your best friend, even if you’d never admit it. He’s such a show-off, his force powers much stronger than anyone else in the unit, his marks on strategy exams are always outstanding, and he’s already a padawan, as he loves to remind you. But your politics are stronger, and when you practice with the wooden sabres, you beat him every time.

Thirteen, now. Next year, you’ll compete in the initiate trails, and if you succeed, the Apprentice Tournament. Anakin has started going on missions with Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he’s stopped teasing you about it, since he’s noticed how you redden with jealousy.

The initiate trails were a success. You’d gathered more skill in the force, though you still weren’t at Ani’s level, and passed the first trial. You had been gifted an orange kyber crystal by Master Mace Windu, and your lightsaber was distinct and brilliant. Finally, you had something to tease Anakin about- his blue blade was a common color.

For a year you trained with renewed fervor, having been moved from a youngling to an initiate. You were readying to participate in the Apprentice Tournament, where you would show off blade skills that Master Kit Fisto praised as being some of the best he’d seen from an initiate. Anakin helped you train, though he always offered with a throw-off statement such as ‘you’ll need all the help you can get’.

And if he didn’t cheat and use the Force, you certainly would’ve won more than you did.

Master Mace Windu had become an idol of yours, ever since he chose you to hand that kyber crystal to. If he didn’t mind the interruption, you would study with him, and he would guide your emotions, like your jealousy of Anakin and your angry determination, into Jedi strengths. He harbored the decision that he would take you as a padawan, as he hadn’t had one since Depa Billaba completed her trials, years ago.

He told himself that he’d take you as a padawan as soon as possible, but it seemed that you were intent on competing in the Apprentice Tournament, and he wouldn’t stop you.

Fourteen years old, and facing off against your class- and clan- mates in lightsaber duels, one by one. Your skills with the saber were unmatched by your peers. Certainly not by far, but you had a talent, a natural knack, and you quickly progressed through the bracket, until the final free-for-all. Anakin and Obi-Wan, you knew, were in the stands, just like Mace Windu. You needed only to win, or at least put up a fight, to impress them all.

Strategy was your ally, as the match started, as you did not charge headfirst into the battle. Your angry determination had turned to cool focus, picking out the best times to engage a fight and turn your opponent away. Soon enough, it was you and one other initiate- Lys Kysek. He was skilled, but you were better.

Cheers erupted when you won the duel, and you gave a humble bow, lifting Lys up to show respect to him. When you exited the Arena, you found the congratulations of your friends, and though Anakin looked impressed and happy for you, he maintained that things would’ve been different if he’d entered the tournament.

Seventeen years old- you’re a padawan to Master Mace Windu, and have been for three years. Anakin is most certainly the person you despise most in the world, and anyone who claims otherwise is clearly lying, kidding themselves. Don’t they see how you boast every time you beat him in a duel? Don’t they see the way you flush with anger whenever he bests you? What other explanation could there be for your sputtering whenever he sends you a cocky smile?

Yeah, yeah. You see, Jedi are forbidden to love. You wondered, though, if the Masters of Old would’ve written that rule if they’d seen how Anakin smiles.

At nineteen, you were knighted, having completed your trials. It was rushed, you knew that, but the Clone Wars had begun, and the galaxy needed Jedi Knights like never before. It was fine- Master Windu would do just fine without you. And besides, being a General in the Grand Amry of the Republic had its perks.

One being, of course, that you were able to chose to go on missions with your old friend, Anakin Skywalker.

He had his hands full, with his new padawan and all, so he was often grateful to have you at his side. Ahsoka, her personality not unlike a Florrumian fire cracker, seemed to reignite the rivalry between the two of you, going so far as to claim she wished that she had been your padawan, instead of Anakin.

Oh, how that made him boil.

Still, you would follow him into battle in a heartbeat. You’d protect him with your life, and of course, he would do the same. Together with his piloting and your sabre skills, you were unstoppable on missions. Ever so slowly, you forged a force connection.

It was like that of a padawan and master, but more balanced, like a true partnership. You could feel each other’s presence, location, and sometimes even emotion, when it was particularly strong. Anakin never spoke of it, and so you wondered if you were meant to hide it- maybe, it had happened because of the love you held for him as a teenager, and maybe still did. Jedi weren’t meant to grow attached to anyone, especially not the way that you had, and so you kept quiet, and just felt it when he stood beside you.

Anakin and Ahsoka had left for a mission that you weren’t meant to accompany them on. You stayed at the temple and completed the diplomatic communications you were known to be quite good at, content and confident that Anakin would return unscathed.

And then, you felt it.

In the middle of your meditation, when your body was open to the force, you felt the deepest, most raw pain you had ever felt in the depths of your stomach. It made you double over and nearly vomit, its pain so intense that you couldn’t move. It ebbed after a few moments, and on weakened legs you stumbled to your communication station.

Where pain had been only moments ago, you now felt fear settle. You had a connection with Anakin, and when you were meditating with the force, had felt horrible pain- the conclusion was obvious that Anakin was hurt. You tried first to reach him, but nothing went through. Then you tried for Ahsoka, who was equally unreachable. When you couldn’t reach Captain Rex you started to fear for the worst.

You ran to your old Master, finding him in discussion with another Jedi, who he waved away as he sensed your panic, and strife.

“What is it?”

“Anakin’s in trouble. I can’t reach him, and I think he’s hurt.” Mace turned to the nearby communication equipment and tried to reach Anakin’s unit, but gave you the side eye as he did so.

“How do you know he’s hurt if you can’t reach him?”

“Master, I- I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” You conceded with a sigh, knowing that your master could see through you.

“Anakin and I- we have this bond, in the force. I don’t know how it happened. But it’s never been like this before- I’ve never felt his injury, and I’ve never felt him when he was so far away. I- I’m scared that he’s in real danger.” By this time, Mace had pulled up transmission with Obi-Wan, who quickly relayed the 501st’s last known meeting and location.

“Be careful,” Mace warned you, “what you’re describing sounds almost like a Dyad. It can’t be, we would’ve known by now, but if it’s this similar now, it could prove to be dangerous, later. Don’t let his pain keep you from his rescue.”

You hopped in a speeder and raced to the aid of your friends.

When you entered the atmosphere of the planet Anakin had said to have been lost upon, you tried to open your mind to the force- it was difficult, you had to admit, flying a speeder through Seperatist airspace, but you had to try. You let the force guide you to a different part of the planet, where you touched down and hid your ship amongst the foliage as best you could.

Once again you let the force guide you, sending you deep into the woods. You knew you must’ve been getting close when you began garnering fire, but instead of red droid blasters, you were avoiding instead blue fire.

So you ignited your saber and lifted it as a sign of peace.

As soon as the clones stopped firing, you rushed toward them, and found almost exactly what you feared. Ahsoka had tears running down her face, surrounded by a protection squad of clones, and Anakin was bleeding heavily from a droid blast in the center of his abdomen, right where you had felt the pain. You had taken time to get here- he was still alive, but had passed out either from the pain, or from blood loss.

“Master (Y/N), I don’t know what to do,” Ahsoka sobbed, and you feel to your knees opposite her, at Anakin’s side.

“Ahsoka, give me your hand,” you ordered her, and you pressed down her hand onto the left side of his wound, then moving your palm to its right. “Meditate with me. We’re going to give him some life force, to help him heal.” You’d tried this, once, long ago. When you were on a mission with your Master, and he’d received a similar wound. It was much smaller, and he’d been able to guide you through it. Today, you would be that guidance, for Ahsoka. And maybe, her Force powers and yours combined would be enough to heal him. “Visualize the Force, the Force all around us, within us. Visualize it traveling down your body, into your fingertips, into Anakin’s body. Visualize the energy flow being channeled by the two of us.”

Once you’d explained, you closed your eyes, and pictured it. The Force, to you, looked like golden light, compassion and kindness shimmering in the air all around you. Like a magnetic field it was drawn to Jedi, and in this instant you saw it pour downward through the funnel you created with Ahsoka into Anakin’s body.

He opened his eyes slowly, a small groan leaving his body.

“Hey, (Y/N). You made it after all.” Ahsoka called Master! and leapt forward to give him a hug, to which he laughed and hugged back, teasing that it would take more than a droid to kill him. You shook your head and sat back, narrowing your eyes.

“Skywalker, how many times am I going to have to hop in a speeder and race across the galaxy to make sure you don’t die?”

“Oh, just once more,” he shot back, that smirk back on his face, as though it had never left. “I don’t suppose you have a way off this planet?”

“You’re lucky I’m going to let you on my ship.”

As soon as Anakin opened communications on your speeder with Obi-Wan to report the successful, if nearly life-costing, mission, you let Captain Rex take the wheel, and went to the deck below to speak with Anakin in private.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” He asked, his hand over the scar that had formed from rapid healing. “When I got shot.”

“Yes,” you answered, eyes cast to the side.

“Why are we connected like this?”

“I don’t know. I think-“

“Is it because of how much I like you?” You lifted your head in surprise, and briefly felt an emotion you almost never felt from Anakin- vulnerability.

“You- you do?”

“I have since we were kids. I never told you, because I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way, and thought that since you were raised in the temple, you’d never feel the same.” His expression told you he was sensing the emotions that currently broiled in your heart. The nervousness, the surprise, but mostly the relief, relief that your love wasn’t unrequited, that you weren’t the only one, that you weren’t breaking the code alone.

“Anakin, I- I can’t believe this.” You took the two quick steps to him but stopped short of the hug he was expecting, briefly laying your fingers where his wound had been, where his robes were scorched. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” Anakin gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, me too.” You closed the distance and hugged him, tightly, closing your eyes and letting yourself feel as satisfaction and happiness bounced between the two of you. “I’m glad you were there when I woke up.” You snorted, pulling away, eyes narrowed playfully.

“Buddy, if I wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have woken up.” Instead of teasing back, as you had expected, Anakin took hold of your closer wrist, the playfulness only in his smirk.

“Then it’s a good thing you were there. If you hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have gotten to do this.” With his opposite hand he cupped your face, and slowly, he brought the two of you together.

Scattered across the galaxy, there were four people who felt it when the two of you kissed. Not because of the kiss itself, but because of the connection between two who were bound by the force, pulsating outward from a moment of satisfaction, devotion, happiness. Master Yoda, on a mission to Endor, who scowled, wondering how much harder it would become to control Anakin. Mace Windu, on Coruscant, who laughed, as though he expected such a feeling. Obi-Wan Kenobi, in a cruiser halfway ‘cross the galaxy, who merely shook his head. And, on the very same ship, Ahsoka Tano, who quietly received five Republic credits from Captain Rex, who’d lost their bet.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #angst #imagines #Star Wars #star wars prequels #anakin skywalker #darth vadar #Jedi #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #poor anakin #anakin imagine #revenge of the sith #clone wars #the clone wars

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

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in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process.

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard.

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode.

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress.

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it.

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned.

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high.

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense.

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done.

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire.

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff.

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront.

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

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madmiriam · 3 years

Text

My Mando (Din Djarin) /oc's backstory idea (includes alot of rexsoka shipping)

Warning!! : I can't spell for toffee and Tumblr deleted all of my proofreaders edits. Obviously she doesn't want to do it all over again so I've had to make do.

(a clan of three by madmiriam (Me)

We all love the mandalorian, Din Djarin is so sexy as single dad and we all love him for it. But this makes it hard to write and engageing original character to go with this perfect specimen of a man, one that we can really connect with. Well I have a salutation, to connect with a character it helps if that character is also connected to a character/characters that you already know and love. So I give you my original character Jaig.

Look:

Like the picture above, originally I wasn't going to have Din and Grogu in it at first but I have a habit of making life difficult for myself, so your welcome.

Personality:

As an adult, she's calm and patient and has a sarcastic sense of humour.

As a child, she has a bubbly personality, a contagious smile, and an insatiable curiosity.

Strengths:

she finds it difficult to truly hate anyone, no matter what they've done, she proffers to look at the reasons behind the actions of others before jumping in for revenge, that's not to say she doesn't get angry at people, but her anger is not fuelled by hate. She has been fully trained in the use of weaponry, such as guns, granaids and other such, and has had a small amount of training with a lightsaber when she was younger. But afters a experiencing a tragedy at the age of 9 she hasn't touched one since, she proffers the us of DC hand guns. She is also a fairly good pilot and mechanic.

Weaknesses:

back when she was a child she had a hard time using the force when when overwhelmed. If the thoughts and feelings of others got to much, she would become force blind. When she grows older, (for certain reasons you will find out later on in. This story) she completely cuts herself off from the force. Unless her emotions get to much go handle, then the force would almost explodes out of her. She also doesn't do well when she's alown. Having grown up in various large family atmospheres. If she is not around people she cares about and loves, she will become closed off a dipressed.

Back story: (now bear with me, this storyline is set before she meets Din, its just an introduction to this character)

Jaig (due to her small Jaig eye like markings, and her father's personal connection to the simble) is the daughter of ex jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano and her mate/husband Captain Rex. She looks mostly human like her father, with the same amber eyes and his family's dark hair. But with the same facial structure of her mother, and a slightly darker and olive tinged skin tone. She also has distinct white making that were almost identical to her mother's. Except instead of diamond shapes on her forehead, she has jaig eye like markings. She was born 6 years after the clone wars ended, while her parents were on the run from the empire. Rex and Ahsoka had found it impossible to part from one another after the events of order 66, and after travelled from place to place avoiding the empire for a long time. Their feelings for one another grow, and they eventually married through the use of mandalorian marriage vows.

They built a home in the stars, and after a few years, to their great surprise and happiness they conserved and had Jaig. Things were finally looking up with the birth of their new found hope for the future.

(Their new found hope for the future/baby Jaig by madmiriam (me)

But it was not to last. It was hard enough to hide themselves, a clone and a ex jedi from the empire. But now adding a force sensative baby to the mix as well, it made it damn near impossible for them all to stay together. Which; after a terrifying encounter with one of the Empires Inquisitors, forced them to make the difficult decision to part ways. Rex would head off insearch for a new home and hopefully find and de-chip as many brothers as he could. While ahsoka would keep traveling around the stars with Jaig. Avoiding the empire and its ruthless inquisitors, whilst trying to help Jaig build up her Shields. They both agreed to keep in touch and once Jaig's Shields were up and safely secure,(which for the average youngling would take 5 years or so) they would rejoin each other and dicided what to do next. But a year after their separation Rex's comms and messeges had stopped all together, and by the time Jaig had reached the age of five and had built up some suitable shields around her mind, neither she or her mother had herd from her father in over 4 years. Her mother was adament he was still alive, but as she grew older Jaig had a hard time believing her. For if he was alive why hadn't he come to find them? Why was he not answering her mothers messages that she still sent on a regular basis?

By the time she was 6 her mother was approached by Bail Organa, in regards to starting a rebellion, and that is what they spent the next 4 years working towards, staying in the shadows gradually building up a resistance to eventually overthrow the empire.

She and her mother met the ghost crew when she was 9 (the same age Anakin had been when he was found by qui gon) and after an uncomfortably close encounter with a mysterious Sith lord called Darth Vader, Jaig's mother disided it was time to bring her father into the fold, and sent Jaig of with the ghost crew to find Rex.

When meeting her father she had opted to wear a scarf to cover her face markings and, chose to withhold her name, and who she was until she found out more about the man who was her father. She was apprehensive about him. As she had no memorie of her dad, for she was only a baby when he left. The only thing she did have, was this warm comforting feeling that she felt whenever her mother spoke of him. A feeling of being held to a large ferm chest in two equally large and ferm muscular arms. Wrapped in a soft wool blanket. Her mother told her that this was the force making an imprint on one of the more emotional moments of her like. But all the same, she proffered to be cautious.

After spending some time with Rex and his bothers. She found her self really enjoying there company. Aspecially her father's. Who dispite having no idea who she was, had already shown that he had a clear paternal instinct. Particularly when teaching her and Ezra how to fish for "Big Bongo". However Kanan who clearly didn't trust Rex or his brothers had spent most of his time hovering around ether her or Ezra protectively, eventually telling them about his exspirence with order 66, an event her mother never talked about.

After seeing the heartbreak on her father's eyes at the memories he and Kanan spoke of. She desided it was time to tell him who she was. But that decision was cut short however when she overheard Rex telling Ezra that he wasn't going to come back with them. Even though he now knew her mother was alive (1 year after separating when the message's stopped he thought both his wife and child to be dead) Jaig ran of in tears when hearing this. She climbing down the ladder of the the AT-TE and walked ferther in front of the walking monstrosity. Away from everyone else. She had finally gotten used to the idea of her father coming back with them. Had become exited by it even. But now, the fact that he was refusing to come with them. Back to his home, his wife, to her. It hurt and overwhelmed her, more than she could say.

She didn't however see what happened after. When Sebine came out and acused Rex of selling them out, of contacting the empire and never answering Ahsoka's messages; at which point he finds out about how Wolfe had withheld all the messages from Ahsoka for 8 years. Thinking he was protecting his brothers from a potentially vengeful jedi. Rex was furious at Wolfe for hiding his own wife's messages to him, and coursing him to miss so much of his only child's life.

Rex: "we have a daughter Wolfe!!! My Jaig, my baby girl doesn't even know who I am because of you!!!"

Wolfe:(was shocked and full of regret when hearing this) "I.. I.. Didn't know... Rex I'm sorry, I didnt know"

Ezra:(recordnises the name) "wait Jaig? you meen our Jaig, Jaigs your daughter?"

Rex: "wait what?"

At this point they hear a shrill scream coming from down in front of the AT-TE. It was Jaig, she was being attact by the prob droid that had been sent by the empire.

The clones immediately go into action. Rex is handed a rifle and gets ready to shoot the prob as it backs his daughter into the ground. His ames and shoots true, killing the droid with one foul shot and then quickly dashes down to retrieve his daughter from under the sparking remains of the droid.

Jaig is in hysterics at this point. Having been taken by surprise by the droid along with the emotional turmoil of potentially losing her father all over again. She then resigned herself to just sit there and cry over how foolish she was for even seeing the attack coming. But now she was being held in the familiar strong arms of her father as he held his only child for the first time in over 8 years.

Rex: "I'm here sh shh, I'm here Ik'aad senaar (baby bird, a nickname he gave her as an infant) daddy's here, daddy's got you"

He says carefully stocking her familiar dark brown hair (that was now flowing free as her scarf had fallen loosely around her shoulders, revealing her beautiful face to her father who's eyes were now brimming with unshed tears) to calm her down as he picking her up and takes her back to the AT-TE. Where the others are waiting with bated breaths. Wolfe was holding a blanket out to wrap his shacking niece into and Gregor quickly dashing off to get her a hot chocolate hoping to make her feel better.

Jaig: "I was angry. Upset. You said you weren't coming home and, then everyone felt so angry and scared all at once. It was to much. (sighs) I have a hard time controling the force when I get overwhelmed like that. I couldn't even sence the prob. I'm. I'm sorry"

She exsplans after she sits down and has a few sips of the hot chocolate that had been placed in her hands. Accompanied a number of comforting back rubs from both her father and her uncles.

Wolfe apologies to her. Explains that he's the reason her father had been out of her life for so long. That he was just trying to protect his brothers but ended up hurting his other family because of it. And tells her he understands if she hates him.

Jaig: "your Wolfe aren't you? Uncle Wolfe? Mum (she has a slight clone like accent that they haven't noticed before) told me about you, said you worked with Grandpa Plo"

Wolfe: 😳"Grandpa Plo? 😂 Boy he would have loved to have herd you say that"

He said, both of them smile at each other, Jaig having forgiven her uncle for his laps in judgment.

All seemed well again until the empire calls them back to get the clones to hand over the rebels. The clones now fueled by the new found need to keep their new family out of harms way, tells the empire where they can stick it, and quickly try to usher the ghost crew along with Jaig into the phantom so they can escape While they all get ready to fight.

Jaig: "but I just found you, mum told me to bring you home, I can't leave you behind, da.. Please don't go"

She says clutching at his shirt as he huged her tight before holding her out to face him,

Rex:"no one's abandoning anyone. Jaig look at me (tilting her head to look. Into her eyes, eyes that matched her father's) we're soldiers Ik'aad senaar, this is what we were born to do, but this time we have something to fight for.. Its going to be OK, (presses his forehead against hers) I love you my Jaig eyes, I've loved you from the I first held you. Ha you were so tiny. I didn't want to let you go back then and I don't want to do it again now, but like last time it's something I have to do, to keep you safe, my Ik'aad senaar, (kissed her forhead lovingly) tell your mother I'm sorry I couldn't make it home, and... And I love her ok."

He says before sending her back into the phantom, closing the door behind her before she can stop him.

Things then pan out like it does in the show, the phantom goes back to help the clones take down the walkers and Rex then decides he's not gonna spend any more of time away from Ahsoka and Jaig and choses to return with them and join the rebellion.

The reauion between Rex and Ahsoka continues the same, but insted of just a hug Ahsoka goes in for the kiss (how it should have always been in my opinion).

(this art work was done by @nottonyharrison (please note: this image was used with the permission of the artist,) please go check them out, as you can see their art work is stunning)

They spend most of there time with the ghost crew, Ahsoka makes the Ghost her base to return to after missions, and Rex teaching combat and war strategies to both Ezra and Jaig, but mostly to Ezra, Jaig was; in his opinion still to young to get to deep into the oncoming war.

Rex:"let her be a kid for a little longer at least".

Jaig and Ezra had eventually become good friends, Jaig looking up to him as something of an older brother, following him every where he went like a little shadow. At first Ezra was annoyed, and try to get away from her at every turn. But after a while he found he quite like having someone look up to him for a change. As before her, he had been dubed the baby of the group with the most to learn. But now he had Jaig hanging on his evey word like it was gold. He found he enjoyed the new found responsibility.

Unfortunately with her shadowing Ezra so much. This meant she got into all kinds of trouble with him. Trouble that mostly involved them running down the corridor with an angry Zeb chasing after them. Zeb really didn't seem to like Jaig very much. Said it was like having two Ezras, and one was quite enough. However other trouble also included a short but terrible trip to malachor, where after being told she can't come along she choses to stow herself away on the phantom in the small rashon hold built into the floor, shielding her mind from her mother as they flow through space.

Ahsoka: (on a call to Rex) "well I definitely out rank you😉... 😟How Jaig doing?"

Rex: "welp she's not happy, she gone and hidden herself in one of thoughs little critter caves again, I'm making her favorite tonight so I know she'll show up by dinner time, but all the same😔..."

Ahsoka: "hay don't take it to heart Rex, you and I both know this is how she deals with being left behind for anything, she finds a small place to hide and sulk it out, just be ready with a plate of nuna and a hug and she bounces right back😄🙁 when she comes out tell her I love her, and I'll be home soon"

Rex: "I will🙂😟... May the force be with you" they hang up.

It's Ezra who ends up finding her, just after they land. Pointing her out to a stressed out Kanan and a very cross Ahsoka,

Ezra: "ummm guys, I think we have a stowaway",

Jaig: "before you get mad..... consider being proud of me, I stayed still for hours in there AND I shielded my mind the whole time, so you non of you even knew I was there"

Ahsoka: "DON'T push it young lady😠what were you thinking!! Your fathers gonna be worried sick!!!! 😤😔 welp since there's no turning back now, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you back home and thoroughly grounded for a year"

The rest again plays out the same, they find Maul, Maul blinds Kanan, they get the sith holocromb but lose Ahsoka in the fight with Vader, though after seeing Jaig who looks so much like the little snippy girl from his old life, the Anakin in Vader hasitates to kill ahsoka and her child, and insted trys to convince the unwavering togruta to join him with her daughter.

Vader:"the galaxy shall never be safe for her Ahsoka, join me and I can protect her from the emperor. Join me and we can over throw him... Together"

Ahsoka: "how can I trust anything you say. If you were truly Anakin then how can you protect my daughter when you can't even protect yourself"

Jaig: "MUM!!!! MUUUMMMM!!!"

Ahsoka looks at her daughter running to her as the walls of the sith temple come down,

Ahsoka :"I'm sorry Jaig"

She say quietly as she force pushes he child into Ezra outside the temple as it fall around her and Vader out of the site of her family.

When all is quiet and Vader emerges from the rubble, after failing to find his former apprentice, the Anakin in him vows that he will not fail her child, he will do everything in his power to insure his master never find her, even if he has to hide her away himself to do it.

When Kanan, Ezra and Jaig return to base, Rex is in hysterics asking around.

Rex:"have you seen Jaig? Has anyone seen my baby?, its been over two days.. I can't find her..!!."

Jaig:"DADDY!!! 😭"

Rex turns to see her running out of a newly landed phantom in tears. Now knowing exactly where she'd been he quickly runs to her and scoops her up in his arm clucking her close to his chest in relief that she was home.

Rex:"you.. Are going to be the death of me, hey sh shshsh hey, hey what's the tears? what happen? where's your..? ."

(a father's comfort, ruff drawing by madmiriam (me)

He couldn't finish the sentence as he looked around and sure two other people emerging from a now empty ship, neither one of them was his wife. Ezra looked him in the eyes and with out saying a word, he knew. He knew Ahsoka, his Ahsoka was gone. He closed his eyes, sheding one silent tear as he held his girl tighter, and slowly carried her away, away from the crowd, but not away from the heartache.

After the loss of her mother, Jaig's once bubblie personality had diminishes somewhat. She refuses to leave the side of eather her father or the members of the ghost crew. She goes on a few missions with them and liston to every word her father says about ways of fighting, fighting to protect herself and the people she loves. Before heading to a mission on geonosis he gives he one of his old DCs. (its twin had been lost in battle during the clone wars and he had gotten a replacement pear, but he had always kept his first well maintained in case he ever needed it)

Rex: "I know it's no lightsaber, but if will keep you and the others safe when used properly"

Jaig: "I don't want a lightsaber any more, 😔sabers get you killed"

Rex: " not all of them Ik'aad senaar" he sighs kissing her forehead "not all of them".

But even this would not last. When it came time for the empire to attack chopper base. Vader sends his own secret troops of undercover purge troopers to find and retrieve Jaig, and to also fake her death so both the empire and the rebels would not come looking for her. This of corse left Rex in his lowest point yet. After watching the ship he had put his daughter on to be evacuated blow up before it even left the ground. He found it hard to not simply drop all his defences and just calming walk into the flames after her. If it hadn't been for Zeb he probably would have. These kind of thoughts invaded his mind so frequently after that day, it was hard to remember when they didn't. He had lost both his wife and now his child. His hope and his reason for fighting were gone, and he wanted to go after them. But he couldn't. Not while there were still people to fight out there, the people who took everything for him and was still grabbing for more. People who his wife started this whole rebellion to fight against. No, he would keep fighting, as long as there is still even one imperial still left alive he would live and fight, until every last one of then were wiped out of existence. (that's gonna take a while)

Meanwhile Vader and Jaig finally meet properly face to mask. Jaig is having a hard time counselling her fear. But Vader was also having difficulty concealing his pain. Pain that had lingered since the moment he had emerged from that crumbled down sith temple, with no sign in the force or otherwise of his once padawan,. The last family he thought he had, that had not betrayed him, who had(once she had seen his face underneath his freshly cracked mask) said she wouldn't leave him, not again. But she had left him, not by her own design he knew, but she had left him all the same. And she had also left a child behind, a child like the one Padme would have given him if it weren't for both the sith and the jedi.

The jedi, who had forced his hand in turning to the dark side, by telling him he should just let Padme die for the good of the galaxy. The jedi who had abandoned his padawan, his little sister, his first child (if he could go so far as to say) in her time of need, and then exsept her to come back all smiles, acting as though her whole ordel was just a trial to prove herself to them. When it was them who should be providing themselves to her.

And the sith,. The sith who had manipulated him from day one to become what he is now, the sith who had taken every thing he had, his wife, his child, his brother/father figer, his little sister/daughter and his friends. The clones. His home all gone for the sake of his masters new empire😡. Yes he new this had been his master's plan all along, the war the clones, the inhibitor chips. All to gane more and more power for himself and to distroy the jedi in his wake. Dragging Anakin down into the darkness with him, and he would do the same thing to Jaig given the chance. Vader could feel the raw power of the force rolling of her, the energy mix with her fear would be a prime canderdate for Sidious's manipulation, should he ever discover her existence.

No!!! That would not happen, neither the sith or the jedi would have her, he would not alow it.

Jaig:"I know who you are.. I know what you did... You tryed to turn my mother before killing her, but you wouldn't turn me, you hear me, I.. Will.. Not... Turn"

She says her voice shacking with her body in fear.

Vader:"no... You will not..."

Jaig: "then why am I here? I haven't done anything to make you hate me.... At least... I don't think I have"

Vader:"I do not hate you Jaig, like your mother, much to my masters great..... disappointment... I could never hate you"

It was true. He couldn't hate her. Couldn't bring himself to hate her. But he couldn't love her either. He had no more love left in him to give. But he could protector for the sake of someone he had loved.

Jaig: confused "then.. Then please let me go, I won't tell anyone if that's what your worried about, I just want to go home, I want my dad, please I just want my daddy😰"

Vader: "you father's fate is.... Regrettable. However it is a necessary evil, it is emperative that he believes you to be dead"

Jaig: "why what did he do to you? what did any of my parents ever do to you?!"

Vader: "as shocking as it may sound, these actions are not done out of hate. You will know this soon enough but for now, I must focus on getting you as far away and as hidden as possible" he then calls in a trouper with red and black armor.

Vader: "CC-2224 I trust your men are ready"

Cody: "ready and awaiting orders.. Sir"

Cody says through gritted teeth not bearing to even look at his once general's masked face.

Vader:"good, I trust the surgery was a success for all of them?"

Cody: "yes.. Sir.. Though we are all having adjustment issues due to recent ... and.... less recent events"

Vader: "thoughs... issues.... had better not interfere with the performance of your mission commander, you and your men have been chosen for one reason and one reason only, and it is for your loyalty to her safety. I can feel your hatred for me commander Cody (Cody inhails sharply at the sound of his name) but I also know enough about you and your brother's to know that they will not let this anger get in the way. I trust you all know the consequences that await you should you fail"

He ignites his blood red saber to put more emphasis on his point.

Cody:"yes sir"

Vader:"very well, now take her and go, and protect her with your life, I shall make my own way back to base as some as I can, her training with began immediately after my return, so be sure to proper her, but until then you already know what to do".

Cody noded before walking over to Jaig, then bent down and gently but fermly lifts her out of her seat, and quickly carry her out of the cell, down the hall and, through the, docking Station towards a unmarked referbished gunship.

Jaig: "where are we going? "

She said with a soft whimper. She was relieved to be away from Vader but still felt apprehensive with the idea of being taken away yet again in the arms of this.. Purge trooper, at lest she thinks it's a purge trooper, she had never seen one before so she could only guess.

Cody: "sh sh it's gonna be OK little one, I'm taking you some were safe, but we have to hurry now"

Jaig:"why?"

Cody: "no one on this ship other than Vader knows we're here and we have to keep it that way kid"

Jaig:"why would you need to hide from your own men"

Cody:"cuz you never know whos watching, I'll explain more when we get off this ship and into hyperspace"

Once they were on board the gun ship, that had been modified to acomidate long period space travel. The modifications included everything from comfortable seating to a working hyperdrive. Cody set her down in one of the seats and strapped her fermly in before heading to the cockpit, leaving her now surrounded by four more purge troopers (hardcase, fives, dogma and waxer, who I'm gonna say lived, cuz I have attachment issues, boil is in the cockpit piloting the ship) who are all looking at her intensely through their helmets. (hardcase and fives are in borrowed discises, after Fives finds out about the chips he and hardcase desert the army and decide to strike out on their own to try and find out more about the chips and their perpose, unfortunately they were too late to do anything about it before oder 66 happened. They have been on the run ever since, until Vader aproches them, informing them that he has been keeping tabs on them, and had been insuring the empire believes them both to be dead, and tells them of the mission, they agree to help because it's Rex and ahsoka's daughter they'll be protecting, but only under the condition the they only report to a de-chipped Cody and all other clones included in the mission must also be de-chipped as well. Vader had agreed to this as he was going to have their chips all removed anyway, to prevent any itchy trigger fingers being near his new force sensative)

Once they're in hyperspace Cody returns to the main area of the gun ship, where the other clones are crowed around a frightened looking Jaig

Waxer: "is this her? Wow she looks so much like her mum"

Fives: "she has our eyes though, our wonderfully handsome eyes"

hardcase: "and out hair, Ha!! I knew Rex's hair wasn't naturally blonde😂"

Dogma:" technically Hardcase, her hair being brown isn't proof that his is to, she could have just gotten the hereditary Jango gen of dark hair"

Fives:"aww suck the fun out of it why don't you"

Cody: "guys back up, give her some space, your freaking her out, and take off your buckets, I don't think they're helping"

When their buckets were removed Jaig was shocked to see five versions of her father's face looking down at her, all old and a little worse for where's, but all very much clone. She recordnises three of them from her father's holopad.

Jaig: "Fives?"

Fives:😃 "yeah! Yeah kid, that's me your☝️ Uncle Fives (he kneals down taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze, before turning to Cody) she recordnised me first that must kill you😁"

Cody: 😠 "only cus you have a, dirty great 5 on your forehead You Di'kut"

He said before knealing down in front of her

Cody:"hey kid, sorry I couldn't introduce myself earlier, I'm your.."

Jaig:"Uncle Cody"

Cody:😁 "yeah kid (to Fives) SEE!! over there are your uncles Dogma, Waxer, Hardcase and back there in the cockpit is your uncle Boil, I know your probably not used to this many of us, but there's more we're we came from where we're going, though they live un a different fasilaty to ours, but every single one of them would be whiling to keep you safe if they knew. So you don't have to worry, we're not gonna let anything happen to you"

Jaig "but Vader.."

Cody: (places both hand at the side of her head and looks her dead in the eyes) "isn't going to TUCH you, not if we have anything to say about its, he may be our sponser, and he will be coming round every so often to check on you and train you. But you'll have several hundred or so uncles on the planet ready and waiting with fully loaded blasters should he ever try to hurt you, us 6 especially as we're the only clones there that know about you yet and we're gonna be living under the same roof, as you and one of us will always be close by to help you. OK kid, it's all gonna be ok (he says hugging her) your safe now"

Jaig: "but I don't want to be trained by Vader, I said I wouldn't turn and I meant it"

Cody: "it's alright, its alright. The one thing Vader has assured us of, is it he will not be training you in the dark side. And judging by the amount of effort he's putting into keeping you hidden, I'm inclined to believe him. He told us that you must block your self off from the force, what ever that means. Which is what he's going to show you how to do. Apparently it's the only way to keep the emperor off your scent. But like I said, one of us is always gonna be there should he try anything"

Fives:"yeah we'll look out for you kid, I know you miss your dad, and we're pretty poor substitutes, but we're here for you all the same"

Hardcase:"and we're not leaving anytime soon"

Dogma: "well not if we can help it"

Jaig "but where are we going?"

Cody: smile "to the closest thing we clones have to a home... Kamino"

Kamino had changed over the years, once the emperor had ordered to stop to any more clones creation. The cloning fasilaties had been abandoned by the kaminoans, along with all the rest of the untrained cadets who were all shipped of to the mustafa system to be trained and bred as the empires elite force of purge troopers.

The cloning facilities were left to the old now retired clones, to live out their days away from civilisation, many now wolowing in sadness and regret for their actions under the influence of their now un activated inhibitor chips.

The place Jaig and her other uncles were heading, was just a few hundred miles of from the main cloning compound. It had been kitted out with everything they might need, weaponry, shields, a food station, bedrooms, a bunkhouse, a training ground, and a shooting range. The only beings abord were now the clones, Jaig, the cook and the maintenance crew, well I say crew, it consisted of one male Ugnaught named Kuiil and three droid assistants whom he had reprogrammed to help with any and all clean up and maintenance duties.

Jaig would continue to live out there with her uncles for the next 5 years. They would go on to train her with any and all things clone, weaponry, though she had learnt a lot of that from her father's teachings, and the language and teachings of the mandalorian. The boys were insistent that she learn all of what little they knew of their heritage, as they were all descended from Jango, who was of mandolor. Any clone would tell you how proud the clones were of this heritage, and now they had someone to pass it all down to. They even taught Jaig the mandalorian wars songs that they had all learnt as cadets, and the Clone Haka, that had been performed by many clone troops over the years, before battle,. Much to the confusion and quite frankly terror of the B1 battle droids who witnessed them.

Fives: "ha your mum was pritty good at this to"

Jaig: now 12" my mum knew the Haka? "

She said, trying to picture her calm and serene togrutan mother, chanting, stomping and banging her chest along side millions of clones Warriors, all while making different faces and throatle sounds at the droids on the other side of the battlefield.

Hardcase: "oh yeah!! She was a natural, always shouting the chant in her loudest voice and making her scariest war face, like this 🤪😜🤪"

Fives: "and that my dear Jaig, was when your father fell in love🥰"

Vader came over as often as he could spare, when he was sure he couldn't be directed be his master or that anyone following him. Teaching Jaig how to disconnect herself from the force, telling her that if she continues to use it, the consequences would be severe.

Vader:"if the employer was ever to discover you exsisens, he would hunt you down in an instant, and kill anyone who trys to hide you from him. This is why you must never use the force again, and you must never leave. If anyone outside this fasilaty were to learn of your existence, you would be in mortal danger, as would everyone you care about"

Jaig: "but why couldn't my dad come? You could have had both our deaths faked and brought him here with me"

Vader: sighed "he is to mixed up with the rebel alliance, and besides, it was his reaction that sold your death to the universe. A trick I learned from my old master...the hard way"

He said bitterly.

Jaig knew she should hate him, he had taken her from her home, her friends and family. He had taken her mother, and it was because of his foolish decision to trust, a maniac, power hungy, sith Lord, that her family were forced to live in the shadows, and her mother, and father were force into separation when she was just an infant. She didn't like him by any means, she frequently tryed to avoid his at any turn. But she still couldn't feel hatred for him.

Cody: "na that your mother in you, she was never one to hold much of a grudge ether. She got angry at people don't get me wrong but she never hated them. She cryed over the potential execution of a woman who had Framed her for Murder once. And had taken the time to give all her deceased troops, who had tryed to gun her down a funeral. Even though she and your father where now on the run from the empire"

Over the years living there, she became closer with her uncles, or at least most of them. She argued with Boil on an almost daily basis, but they had their moments, she told him and Waxer how she met Numa, who was still fighting for the freedom of her home. She had a difficult time connecting with Dogma. He was very distance from her and didn't talk much. However she did like listening to him read. Dogma who had been a stiff by the book solder his entire life, and had been through so much, found he secretly quite enjoyed the company of his niece. But she spent most of her training with Fives and Hardcase. Both clones always new how to make her smile and told her many stories of her parents during the war, stories not even her parents had told her, (though they never much liked talking about the war), and she had given them a new lease of life, and new perpose. She was probably closest with Cody, he had know her father since they were both cadets, and was determined to teach her everything he knew, but he also showed his softer side with her. There were many a time he would be seen walking down the corridor carrying the young girl who was really getting a bit to big to be held, in his arms fast asleep from a long day.

She had also become quite good friends with Kuiil the maintenance manger, she learnt that he was paying off his debt to the empire through prolonged servitude, he had been in many battles he didn't believe in, until Vader; after seeing his reprogramming skills had, offered him a place on this secret compound. Kuiil had also taken quite a shine to Jaig, she was kind, and eager to learn the inner workings of the machines he fixed.

But yet again, even this would not last. After the destruction of the First Death Star, Lord Sidious had been furious with Vader, he tortured and demoted him. But through his touture he discovered the existence of the child Vader had taken such lengths to keep hidden from him. And through this new information, he devised a plan.

To brake his apprentices even ferther, he would force him to chose, chose between the life of his padawans child, who he had swarn to protect, and the life of his son, that he did not yet know about. But unfortunately for the emperor, he did not bargain for the tactical brilliance of the Clones.

When the empire, came to take the now 15 year old girl, they had already divested their own escape plan. They sent Jaig along with Kuill over to the kaminoan cloning facilities, turned clone retirement home, before the empire even entered the atmosphere. There she was frozen in to carbonite and fastened to the inside of the newly alcoved underbelly of a small one-seater Y wing (to insure the if the empire should come across them she would be well hidden and undetected, Kuiils cover story being that he was delivering supplies to the clones) there Kuiil would then fly far away from any siverlized planet. While, the clones continued to fight and defend the compound as though she was still there, and then proceed to escape themselves, using an old subship left over from the battle of Kamino. But not before bowing the place sky high, making it seem like the empires had fired at the fewl tanks corsing the whole building to be destroyed along with anyone who was inside.

This was not the out come Sidious had wished for, however with the now almost certain death of his ward, Vader plunged ever ferther into the void of darkness and hate. So the desired effect Sideous was planning for was reached anyway.

After being unfrozen from carbonite, Jaig and Kuiil parted ways. She chose to for her father, but it became fruitless. Chopper base had long since been evacuated and the rebel alliance was always one step ahead of her in their attempts to avoid the empire. For 2 years she searched for them, and fought the Empire where she could, until she finally stopped, delving into the belief that what ever family she knew was now gone, she rejoined Kuiil on a deserted planet called Arvala-7, while the galaxy celebrated the fall of the empire. Where for the next 5 years they would both try to live out their lives in peace, working the land and carrying for blurgs, until a mandolorian arrives on their planet, looking for a little green bounty, which starts of a whole new adventure for our now Adult Jaig.

OK guys let me know how I did, and if you would like to see Jaig's adventures with Din Djarin and little green bean Grogu. Let me know. I'm not much of a writer,. But I always got so irratated when reading Din Djarin/oc fics where to make her interesting, they give the oc force powers, with either no build up to it, or she's a run away jedi, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of season 2 were they're trying to find the jedi, so I thought I'd write my own. I wanted to have a character that has both a clear connection to both the mandalorian culture and the force, without making her a mary su. She has a connection to the force. But she can't use it, or control it. Therefore she can't train Grogu to use it. Which would mean they'd have to find the jedi, to help him learn to control his powers. Plus I don't want to just giving her everything with no preplanned reason. So here is my preplanned reason. I know these short scenes and conversations don't really delve much into her personality but that's were you come in. Tell me what you think of her, and what you think she's like as an adult. I wrote a few things like her kind nature and her sarcastic humour. But I could do with some ideas on what you would like to see. Let me know, and...

May the 4th be with you,😉

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