GetItCreations did “The Mandalorian” inspired phone cases. She will be releasing these for samsung by the end of January. She currently has them for iPhone on her website. Please visit her shop on etsy!
Din was thrilled from the moment you announced your pregnancy, he would sit down with Grogu explaining the responsibilities of a big brother.
When you give birth, he helps you. It was his fault that you were on a deserted planet after all. He feared the worst, but you were strong and so was your child.
When he first held his daughter, she was still covered in blood, but in his eyes, she was the definition of perfection.
Jack Daniels
This wasn’t the first time he was about to become a father, but this was the time he was super cautious. Making sure you were safe at every second, he doesn’t want to go through the same pain as before.
When you gave birth, he was on a mission. He was called by Ginger and he immediately dropped everything. But he was late.
By the time he arrived to the hospital, you were sleeping and so, he let you sleep while he walked over to the glass so he could see his child. And surely enough Jack found him. The only baby with just a last name, meaning you wanted to wait until he was there to name him.
He felt a tear fall from his eyes as he looked at him, he knew he would do anything to keep his family safe.
Marcus Moreno
It was a quiet night, everyone was sleeping when you woke up. Marcus didn’t even move an inch when you got out of bed. You were in desperate need to pee.
But on your way back to the bed, you felt a terrible pain.
Of course, when you woke Marcus up, he was running around like a chicken without a head, thank God for Missy who was able to help you out.
This wasn’t the first time Marcus her his own baby and standing there he wouldn’t want this to be the last either. He cried. Tears rolling down his face while he held his youngest daughter.
Of course, Missy took multiple pictures of him which she planned on blackmailing her father later on in his life.
Oberyn Martell
Childbirth was something he was used to. He had many daughters before you even came into the picture.
But this was the very first time he held a son and not a daughter. It felt special, and as much as he loved his daughters, his heart still felt a different way to see the youngest addition to his ever-growing family.
He swore his entire life to protect him as he would be his rightful heir. You even caught a glimpse of a tear running down his cheek before he whiped it.
Javier Pena
Panic wouldn’t even begin to describe what he went through that day. He thought he would rather go after another Escobar guy instead of going through this hell, and he didn’t even had to do anything. He held your hand and that’s all. You did all the work.
His mind often went to that dark place, that dark place which told him to just run, leave and never come back, but he stayed.
And that dark voice in the back of his head disappeared when he held his daughter for the first time. And how glad he was that he didn’t leave.
Tiny little girl with his eyes. Perfection. He just stood there, frozen as he looked at her. Not even giving her to the nurses when they asked.
Pero Tovar
After your third child you thought Pero would have enough. You thought he would have enough and not want more children. But you were wrong. Two girls and a boy weren’t enough. He wanted more. And you were happy to give him more.
Each birth was more terrifying to him than the last. He loved his children all the same and he just loved you a little more as he held his second son. Each time he was reminded just how amazing you were and it made his heart explode.
Him, a rough swordsman, such a soft and kind father and husband. He never saw himself in that position. As you finally fell asleep, he watched the kids, showing them his youngest, like the proud father he was.
Summary:When asking for zoomies is just too much for you.
You didn’t like the new ship. Not one bit.
It made you sit back, not on your man’s lap.
You travelled while sitting at the back, not while he held you. You held Grogu close to you, but you needed his arms around you, you needed to feel the cool Beskar and his heat radiating off of him, making you fall asleep as he flew. Now, all you had was your kid. Who constantly kept on banging the window, asking Din to go faster. Honestly it was adorable, but you started to feel sick after the tenth time. So, when Grogu wanted Din to go again, you grabbed his little arms.
“Please, no more, I feel sick.” the Kid understood you, of course he stopped, not wanting to see his mommy sick he decided to cuddle against your chest.
Then you heard Din’s voice through the comunication system.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just no more jumps please, my head hurts.”
“Should we stop? There is a planet fairly close.”
And he already stirred the ship to go that way, the last thing he wanted is for you to be sick and some fresh air will really help you.
After landing, you quickly got out of the ship, with the Kid still in your hands, you started walking around the foresty planet.
“I feel better…but, I’m a bit dizzy.” you said as you leaned against a tree. Din rushed over to your side, helping you to a nearby rock to sit on.
“Meshla? What can I do?”
You handed him Grogu and held your head, “I don’t know. Do you have any meds?”
“I do,” he rushed to his ship, finding the emergency bag and taking out a painkiller, he handed it to you with some water.
“Thank you.” you took the pill.
“I will only use that when we are chased or something, if you get a headache every time.”
“I don’t think it’s that, it's the amount. You did it like 12 times because he asked you. But we learned from it.” Grogu made a noise and reached out to you, Din held him closer to you as he grabbed your hand. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to heal me, I’m good.” you said as you started to feel the force he used. As you said that, he stopped. “I just need an hour or so, then we an go.” you said to Din as you took Grogu from him once more. He nodded and decided to go relax with you under the huge tree.
You leaned against him, he moved his arms around you, finally, finally he was holding you, just as you wanted.
Now, not even the annoying headache could ruin your mood.
Paz pulled you closer. Pulling your entire body closer to his, he needed you there, right there. By his side, so he could also fall asleep.
You were fast asleep.
He placed his hands on your face as you moved in your sleep, unaware of the entire galaxy. To you all that was were the dreams you were having, nothing more, nothing less.
Your head was on your Riduur’s upper arm, as it had since the two of you went to bed. Your body had only the thin bed sheet to cover it.
And the same could be said for Paz. As once again, when he got back to you, he couldn't keep his hands to himself.
Paz still wondered what he did to deserve such a gorgeous and kind wife like you.
You always supported him and treated him with respect, as he should be, according to you the blue armoured Mandalorian was a king of his own, and he knew better than to argue with you.
You were his treasure.
In his eyes, you were perfection itself. Even on his darkest days, you somehow managed to make him smile. Even if you couldn’t see him under the helmet, you knew he was happy, because so were you.
Paz placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes.
As he drifted back into sleep, he knew that you would be right there beside him, in his arms, in the morning when he woke up.
Warnings:SMUT, somnophilia helloOooo everyone I am BAAACK, oral sex, face sitting, cockwarming, domestic kink idk if that’s even a thing but it’s in here, mentions of death, canon typical violence, descriptions of hunting an animal, ends on a cliffhanger, this might actually be the longest most descriptive explicit smut I’ve ever written I was left alone for too long send help
A/N: hiya yoditos missed yall like hell, thanks for sticking with me in my 100+ day long era of broodiness I swear to god I’m gonna fuckin finish this story if it’s the last thing I do
***
Even after all that excitement and adventure, if there was ever one single moment with Din you’d want branded into your memory forever, it’s this one.
word count: 3.5k // warnings: SMUT, vaginal sex, fingering, biting, injury, a lil gore, needle, vaguest hint of a blood kink (you know he has one), space condoms, consent is sexy, din is ooc but he always is in things like this, reader is gn!afab bc work with what you got, swears, overuse of italics, this was meant to just be filthy but some feelings snuck in there idk how, 18+ pls no babies
Smoke clings to the inside of your nose, itching all the way up to your eyes and back down your throat. You’re sure your voice will be hoarse for days after this.
Guild havens never stay that way for very long, there’s always someone who owes somebody else credits and before anyone knows it there’s blaster bolts and punches flying every way you turn. You’ve made it this far unscathed at least, crouched behind a crate in the street, as hunters you’d been laughing alongside less than an hour ago fire off shots at each other in the marketplace.
You catch a glimpse of sunlight glinting off a helmet a little ways down from you, someone without the good sense to keep their fucking head down. Or someone who doesn’t need to.
summary:three hundred and sixty eight days—one standard year—that’s all he agrees to. then you’re gone.
word count: ~4.5k+
warnings:canon typical violence and weaponry, mean!mando for now hehe, hand around neck once (no choking), language, x fem!reader
a/n:this takes place post s2, meaning there’s no grogu (and we are ignoring the darksaber), but there will be plenty of ~other things~ to fill that void. the title comes from a painting of the same name by edward hopper. many thanks to @djarinsbeskar for being some extra eyeballs on this one! gif by @djarsdin.
let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the following chapters. xoxo!
DAY ZERO
A girl—you’re just a girl. Barely a woman.
You stand beside Karga, tendrils of hair framing your face, and Din sees the haughty strength in your shoulders, the iron viciousness in your stare. He sees you—green and gung-ho and itching for a fight—and he bites his tongue to keep from groaning.
His hands clench to fists at his sides. Fuck, he doesn’t have time for this.
Warnings:SMUT, somnophilia helloOooo everyone I am BAAACK, oral sex, face sitting, cockwarming, domestic kink idk if that’s even a thing but it’s in here, mentions of death, canon typical violence, descriptions of hunting an animal, ends on a cliffhanger, this might actually be the longest most descriptive explicit smut I’ve ever written I was left alone for too long send help
A/N: hiya yoditos missed yall like hell, thanks for sticking with me in my 100+ day long era of broodiness I swear to god I’m gonna fuckin finish this story if it’s the last thing I do
***
Even after all that excitement and adventure, if there was ever one single moment with Din you’d want branded into your memory forever, it’s this one.
He’s asleep. And no—not because he passed out quicker than you can snap your fingers and then awoke less than two or three hours later at most, not like he always does. This time, he falls asleep, and then he staysasleep.
The baby is tucked away in his crib, shields closed and hidden inside the quietest part of the Crest, and you’ve been awake for at least an hour. You, awake, and Din, asleep. You could count the times this has happened on one hand, and in other circumstances, you might worry that he’s sick or something. There were a lot of people in Nariss and he could’ve caught a bug, but then again, he wears a filter over his mouth pretty much all the time, so you wonder how often that actually happens. No, his body temperature is normal when you lift the back of your hand and fold it along the bend of his neck as he breathes slowly—a few degrees warmer than you, but normal for him.
Is he just that tired? You blink your eyelashes against the skin of his collarbone, staring at the red and green buttons illuminating through the darkness across from your fluffy, comfortable bed on the floor. You’ve seen him come back bleeding and still not rest like this. You thought you slept for a long time; it was one of those nights where you wake up multiple times, smile when you remember where you are and whose body is pressed tight to yours, before passing back out and thanking the Maker that you can continue to sleep. After days of bells ringing every hour, a city with enormous crowds roaring, parades clanging, and fireworks booming, you’ve returned to the most blissful silence you could’ve ever dreamed. Hyperspace, Din’s skin pressed against yours, and against all reason, waiting in the darkness for him to wake up.
Your cheek is squished against his chest and instead of holding you like normal, his limbs are completely splayed out on the floor spread eagle and… maybe you didn’t sleep a long time? What’s more likely? Your body being okay with operating on less than average naturallyor Din finally letting himself relax for far longer than he usually does? You don’t have a clock handy, but you feel well-rested. Alert. Maybe it’s a little of both?
Part of you is antsy to not be the only one awake—it’s so weird—but part of you also wants him to sleep as long as physically possible since he never fucking does it. You wonder if this has always been in him. If he was always able to mute his body’s natural need to be active, present and ready, or if this is somehow an unintentional change inspired by your cultivated love of the most basic things in life that most people take for granted. Sleep in the cool, pitch blackness. Water, freely used and consumed and enjoyed, not hoarded and traded like precious jewels. Real food, not… dehydrated chalk bought in the barren markets under a blazing hot sun. It had enough nutrients and fed you well enough, but caf was once a luxury to you, and fruit was, too. For him, you think they still are to an extent—necessities are luxuries, but what about luxuriousnecessities? Long hot showers, mouthwateringly delicious food, sleeping in… those are completely foreign to him unless you give him a real shove, and this time, you think he made the leap all by himself.
His skin is soft under your cheek though, no matter how harsh of a life he’s lived. You’re suddenly struck with the realization that he’s experienced this multiple times with you, this is what it’s like. Tangled in sheets, hearing him breathe slowly while you hold onto him and stare into the darkness, wide awake. His body is so warm; you fit perfectly next to him and you’d stay here forever if you could.
Except… you’re a bit bored. Not bored enough to move, obviously, but enough to wish he was awake and interacting. You must be terrible company if this is how he typically spends his downtime in the mornings, just waiting for you to wake up, and every gentle breath he takes is another moment you consider a way to entertain yourself.
Well. What does he typically do to entertain himself when you’re asleep?
But then your brain instantly short circuits like it shocked itself with your own train of thought.
Maker. Your chin lifts slightly and your fingers twitch against his chest out of surprise alone, immediately tense just remembering all the gloriously naughty details. It’s been around a year and a half since you first met Din, and you think the best mornings you’ve ever had all started out the same exact way. There’s nothing like blinking your eyes open out of a deep slumber and suddenly realizing that you’re a breath away from an orgasm. It’s like your mind barely has a second to register the warm tongue slowly moving between your legs before you’re locking down and—
Whew. No, no you don’t have the audacity to do that, that takes serious fucking backbone, and it’s unsurprising to you that Din established it early on as something he loves doing. He’s brazen and likes what he likes, no shame. Courageous enough that part of you thinks he doesn’t even know what the word actually means. It’s nothing at all to him, and proves to be the greatest challenge in the universe for you.
Oh, but then the longer you think about it, the more appealing the idea becomes. His body laying out completely naked and relaxed under you, lost in his dreams while you pleasure him. Could you make it as good as he does? Could you make it so soft and hot and generous that he doesn’t wake up until the very last second, and by then it’s too late to stop? It sends a small shiver down your spine. The first time you gave him a blowjob, Din barely allowed it and complained about wanting to fuck you the entire time. The next time you were able to do it, it was in public and again, he only just allowed it. He was still as a statue and tolerated the pleasure you gave him, endured the smooth glide and heat of your mouth, only grabbed you once to make sure you didn’t pull off of him right when he was about to cum so you didn’t make a mess.
This time, if you can manage to make it as sinfully good as he always does, then you’ll finally be able to get him to experience the luxurious things he deserves. Without complaining about the actions he wants to take instead, without holding tense and on edge the entire time. Heat ripples through you, deciding that he’s going to enjoy this. Maybe he’ll start sleeping in more, who knows?
Just testing your luck, you carefully lift your head from Din’s chest, making sure his breathing doesn’t change, and press a whisper-soft kiss to his shoulder.
No response from him. Is he a light sleeper? You don’t even know, that’s how often you’re in this scenario. Will he make a sudden movement when he finally rouses, will his breathing change? It suddenly occurs to you he could actually be fully awake right now and you wouldn’t have any idea unless he decides to make some indication, but you suppose that thrill could be part of the appeal for him when he does this to you.
Your mouth slowly opens and you let the warmth of your tongue barely brush against his skin. Still, nothing at all from him. Completely comatose, the gentle rise and fall of his chest is your only indicator he’s not actually dead right now.
Carefully, you extract yourself from his side in the soft nest of blankets so that your skin isn’t touching his anymore. It’s a process, but you stay patient and slow. You don’t use your hands, their only purpose is to prop yourself up, allow you to hover over him without making any physical contact. All you want him to feel in his dreams is your mouth, soft lips and warm tongue worshipping him, and you’re exceedingly cautious with your movements in order to make that happen.
With every kiss you press to his skin, you think about how much you adore him. Every slow lick along the curve of his muscles is a thought, a hope for him, a brand of your love on his body. In response, Din’s breathing almost seems to go even slower under you, melting into the soft blankets. He isn’t excited by your gentle caresses, not any more than someone would be excited to be home. Instead, it speaks to peace. Bone-deep tranquility in the quiet, never more relaxed than he is when the Crest is moving safely through hyperspace, he’s wearing no armor, his son is sleeping peacefully, and you’re resting in the silent darkness next to him.
You make your way downwards, taking all the time in the world with it. The sheets cover his naked waist and you’re careful about lifting them, even more careful in slipping your body underneath. Your tongue trails gently down the ridge of Din’s hip, your lips brush the very top of his thigh. Even in the pitch black, you can tell his cock is already beginning to find more of a shape in response to your mouth. Your lips are barely a feather against him, never lingering in one place too long, making sure to keep your touches teasing and perfectly elusive. He’ll never be able to predict you in his dreams, you’re gone before his slumbering thoughts can manage to figure it out.
The whole time, you move closer and closer to the object of your desire. When you can’t hold off any longer, you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, opening your mouth to flutter your tongue under the curved flesh.
Din’s thigh barely twitches in his sleep, and you feel him continue to grow thicker. He’s so soft here, his skin is like silk, and for a long moment, you just use your breath to warm him. You slowly drag your parted lips down the length of him, a mere ghost of a touch, and it seems counterintuitive how quickly he’s getting hard for almost nothing at all. When you reach the base, your tongue peeks out to trail a thin little line all the way back up, and you do that at least twice more. Barely there, barely anything, but he continues to swell nonetheless under your whispering touches and it’s filling your body with all sorts of debased desires.
Whenever you thought about Din doing this to you before, it was always blush-inducing, something that warmed your cheeks and made you smile bashfully. A kink your future husband has, nothing more and certainly not anything less. Now, while you’re experiencing it from the other side, the intimacy is making you incredibly hot and achy between your legs. Imagining him being as careful with you as you’re being with him, picturing him under the blankets just like this but carefully dipping his tongue into your slit instead, pressing slow kisses to your clit and listening for your breathing to shift. He’s almost always up front and full speed ahead when you’re there to react to him, and it somehow only strikes you right now that he can be extraordinarily patient and attentive when he wants to be.
After a few more open-mouthed kisses along his deliciously hard length, you pull back to press another soft kiss to the tip—but this time his cock jumps against your lips so hard that you feel it graze your front teeth for a second, and you freeze.
No teeth. Noteeth. You don’t even want something as firm and tactile as your hands to touch him, and teeth are even more likely to rouse him. Even though Din has given you plenty of indication to say that he likes a little discomfort with his comfort—he likes jerking off dry, he likes biting, leaving marks and fucking you so good that you can’t stand afterwards—you want it to be allcomfort. You want to give him the luxuries he doesn’t think he deserves and you’ll wait an eternity to get that to happen.
He doesn’t move or react in response to your slip up, and his breathing doesn’t change. Regardless, you know it’s only becoming more likely as time goes on, so you find the spot you know he likes the most, on the underside just under the head of his cock. Your mouth stays there, your tongue bathing it gently while your lips find a home along the silky hot curve of his tip. And then you just keep doing that without ever moving, stopping, speeding up or slowing down. You do it until he’s swollen and dribbling precum, throbbing and aching for release. You do it until you feel his muscles start fidgeting, his balls pulling up tight to prepare for it. Still, you never rush. You’re as patient as a saint while you pleasure him, but it doesn’t really take that long at all.
When you’re sure he’s inches away from it, you lift up just enough to slide your tongue underneath the head of his cock and ease it into your mouth.
That’s where he leaks now. Your tongue fits along the curve of him, slowly massaging him with every soft corner of your mouth, and then Din’s breathing finally changes—finally, you hear the rhythmic, lulling inhales and exhales stutter awake.
“Sw—?” Comes his groggy voice, but then he chokes open-mouthed and shocked as he immediately starts cumming, hard and unexpected and first thing in the morning on your tongue.
Your moan feels good when you finally let it out, a soft noise of relief after holding it in for so long, but Din… Stars, it’s like he’s still figuring out where he is, and it’s likely the reason he just shakes instead of thrashes somehow, his fingers just clench instead of doing something brash like usual—grabbing you fiercely or slamming his hand against the floor with it. This time he just shudders and his hips flex up into your mouth, so shocked that it all just comes out through his throat while yours is being filled. The gasp he takes is pure heat ripping through you—raw, harsh, desperate. Caught against such soft sheets, helpless and confused with the lingering darkness of sleep.
“Fuuuuuck,” Din groans, long and loud and dragging across broken glass just to get to your ears. His hands fumble as they blindly reach for you but you’re hidden under the blankets, so all he can do is just twitch and pant brokenly and croak your name while he finishes unloading in your hot mouth.
When he finally stops and you hear his moan turn into a quiet whimper, you settle your head down on his stomach, content to hold him there on your tongue for a little while while he catches his breath. Din sounds like he just ran a marathon not even thirty seconds after waking up, and you flutter your eyes closed and hum in contentment, settling down to get comfortable. Even though his muscles are still spasming in the comedown and not providing a stable surface to truly rest on, it’s so much more relaxing than when you did this in the shooting range on Tatooine and you plan on doing it until he tells you that’s enough.
Din stops allowing it so much sooner than you hoped, though. Maybe it’s because you just couldn’t help yourself and started gently sucking on him the second he stopped trembling. Whatever the reason, the blanket is suddenly ripped off and your elbow is caught in the darkness. You don’t want to, but you finally let his soft cock fall out of the heat of your mouth and he doesn’t even allow you to kiss it one last time before you’re being hauled upwards.
Without a word, he flips you on your back and then just flattens himself down on top of you, burying his face into your neck and sighing.
You reach to gently scrape your nails across his back, smiling unseeingly up at the pitch black ceiling when he shudders and lets out a muffled mmf against your skin in appreciation. Din’s shoulders dwarf you and you take your time dragging your fingernails across the vast spread of them, the subtle dip that leads to his nape. Nails slowly raking through his curls now, flexing your hand wide to ride the curve of his scalp, pressing your fingers in and working at that tension you know lives there. This is where the padding of his helmet digs in the most and weighs heaviest; you know, if only because you’ve worn it yourself, it’s right behind his ears and down just a bit—
—there, Din melts fully into you, breathing deep and slow while you touch him, letting your other hand drag up and down his back. He’s so big and muscular and heavy but you love being squished by him, especially knowing his intense lack of energy and inability to move is specifically because of you.
“Morning,” he finally mumbles into your neck, and you just giggle happily, albeit shallowly and with little support. It’d be easier to breathe if he just moved off your chest a bit and you’re trying to conserve air at the moment, but you think Din is still so drunk off that orgasm that he takes a few more seconds before realizing.
When he finally eases himself downwards to free your ribcage from his weight, oxygen seeps back into your lungs and it’s good enough. He’s still all bulk piled on you, sandwiching everything below your stomach between him and the ground, but you can breathe now and he’s at the perfect height to drop his head down to your chest.
Din’s mouth lazily drags down to one of your nipples, and his lips close around it with a low noise. Oddly enough, it’s so nice that it feels more domestic than overtly sexual. You relax back down into the blankets and play with his hair while he plays with you, arching your chest to his mouth and humming softly.
“You slept for a really long time,” you whisper down at him, and there’s warmth in your voice that’s never been there for anything else before. You don’t know what you’d call it, but it carries the endless sunshine you grew up in, the nourishment of the precious water you used to farm for. “Are you feeling okay?”
Din’s bassy moan rumbles out in deep satisfaction, and he moves to lick one long, slow line between your breasts. “Mmm,” he breathes against your skin. “Never better.”
The rough timbre and vehemence in his tone sends a small shiver down your spine, and you shift your shoulders a bit to offer him your other nipple. He quickly takes it into his mouth, and his soft curls spring while you comb your fingers through them, his fingers dig into your hips when your nails gently scratch his scalp. It’s blissful. You’re filled with a deep, aching love for him once more, and your soul is plagued with a generosity for him so bright and brilliant that it’s almost a compulsion inside you.
You want to lock him in the fresher for a good half an hour and force him to take a long, steaming hot shower, and then you want to make him breakfast.
You can’t even fucking cook. You likely could if you learned, but there’s no kitchen in this ship, and Din would probably break down the door in the shower if you had the audacity to try and barricade him in there. No, you think you’re just feeling that mushy and doting right now. He’s such a capable man in every single circumstance, and the fact that he’s allowing you to take care of him is as addicting as it is intoxicating. You long to give him nice things, feed him and touch him and fill his life with the softest, sweetest pleasures.
You’re completely lost in domestic fantasies, but when Din’s teeth gently close around your nipple and his tongue flicks it at the same time as if to get your attention—thenit becomes sexual.
“Settle down,” you breathe out, dragging your palms along his shoulders and beginning to knead the tight muscles there. Does his back hurt after laying on it like that all night? You can give him a massage, your hands are so much stronger than they used to be—
“I want to fuck you,” he immediately lifts his mouth to fall back into an all too familiar exchange with you, but the way he’s panting against your skin lessens the threat and it’s more heartwarming than anything else. “But you already made me cum.”
But Din’s mouth and your arousal is another familiar exchange, and when he goes back to using his tongue and teeth in different ways while laying between your legs, your breathing starts to come a little heavier. You start to wiggle a bit, fidget and move under him but it’s like his body has welded you to the floor.
“I want to make you food.” The urge is so strong that you at least need to manifest it out loud before you get too distracted to remember. “Are you hungry? What sounds good?”
“Mmm,” Din rumbles once more, and that’s all the warning or answer you get before his arms suddenly tighten to steel and he flips you over on top of him. There’s a tiny squeak from you while you flail and try to catch yourself in the pitch blackness at the abrupt change in position, and then you’re caught by his arms hooking under your thighs and shoving you upwards.
“Din—?” You scramble to hold on, not wanting to plant face-first into the metal ground but not really registering where exactly it is in the darkness, either.
“What sounds good?” He repeats under you, continuing to lead you up along the length of his body. At one point you feel his shoulders shuffle downwards between your spread knees, and you think that’s the moment it finally registers for you.
Air rushes from your lungs in understanding, suddenly feeling his chin brush against your hip and warm breath fan against your pussy. You can barely speak right. “Wait, you w-want me to…?”
“Sit on my face,” he finishes low in his throat for you, finding your wrists in the darkness and tugging them down until you feel his soft locks brushing along your palms. His large hands close around your fingers and push your knuckles into fists, encouraging you to grab a handful of his hair. “Use it. Make yourself cum.” Din’s head turns to give your thigh a soft kiss, and the massive shudder down your spine makes your whole body erupt in goosebumps. “It’s yours.”
Fuck, he barely said a handful of words and you’re already soaking wet for him. Warm hands soothe along the backs of your spread thighs and you don’t realize how tight you’re holding yourself until his fingers dig in and start working at those flexed muscles. His breath is a hot whisper against your skin, as gentle and elusive as your mouth was on him earlier. Din’s powerful hands keep massaging your legs and hips and ass, pressing kisses to your twitchy muscles and getting closer to where you want him most.
You think your body doesn’t know whether to tense or relax the second you feel his tongue dip between your folds. His chin either lifts up or your hips sit down a little more, you can’t really tell because it’s pitch black and all you can concentrate on is him brushing your clit in soft, gentle strokes of his tongue. A low moan rumbling between your legs gives you even more shivers, and you start combing your fingers through his hair while Din trails his up and down your legs.
“Fuck,” you whisper, subconsciously leaning into his mouth with how much you want it. The position you’re in feels too dominant to match how needy your voice sounds, but you don’t want to move because then he might stop and you can’t let that happen. His tongue feels perfect, tracing smooth and practiced arches over top of your clit just the way you like. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you feel the beginning of an orgasm start to simmer deep inside you.
But then, as soon as you register the familiar chaotic swirl building down low and your breath catches, it’s like he just… tapers off.
Gradually, Din’s tongue stops being so dexterous. At first you think you’re just imagining it, imagining that release creep further away the closer you get to it, but no—you let out a pitiful little whine when you realize that he’s moving incredibly slow on purpose. Still drawing circles around your clit, but then at one point he starts avoiding it. Instead, he drags his tongue down until it presses along the slope leading to your entrance, and you’re left trembling and confused by the lack of stimulation.
What is he doing? Is he trying to edge you? His mouth isn’t tired yet, you know from experience how long it takes until that happens, but he’s slacking. Lazing under you, barely moving his tongue at all at this point. You bite your lip, trying not to get frustrated with him.
“Din, please,” you pant instead, begging for that last something that’ll bring you over the edge. Your body is rigid over him and your fingers flex repeatedly against his scalp without pulling any hair, gentle but tight with tension and so close to it that you whine. “Please, I want to cum—”
His hand leaves your skin for a second, and then he brings it back to give you ass a loud smack. You gasp and jerk forward, snapped out of your frantic climb and accidentally tugging his hair when he turns his head against your thigh.
“Useit,” Din growls, and then teeth sink into your soft flesh.
You wince at the unexpected pain and your fingers pull on his hair, but his teeth stay clamped around the sensitive skin and you have to yankto get him to stop. Fuck, you know that’s gonna bruise, and for just a split second, you feel a spark of anger at him for treating you so carelessly after how gentle and sweet you were with him. Any marks of his you wear are usually left in the throes of ecstasy, but this just feels provoking and harsh and intentional. Wanting to stir you up and find the fighter inside you by being just this side of mean, like he did when you first learned how to throw a punch on Naboo. Refusing to accept your timidness or inaction any longer—if he knows it’s in you, then he’ll force you to be brave.
Your fingers yank on his hair again to pull him into position and Din’s encouraging groan is cut off by your hips dropping down on his mouth. When he deliberately doesn’t give you his tongue, flames begin to lick at your skin in the absence of his touch. Not only is he forcing you to do it yourself, he’s also going to make you say it out loud yourself, and a thrill skitters throughout your entire body.
“Open your mouth,” you breathe, heart pounding at the sudden power rush, and everything inside you turns molten hot when Din’s jaw slowly opens and his tongue obediently slides deep into your slit in response.
You lift your hips up and move back until just the tip of it rests against your clit, and then you slowly ease forward and drag your pussy all the way up the length of his tongue.
Din groans again while you lift up and move back once more, doing the exact same thing over again, and then again. The movement becomes more fluid the more you do it, the pleasure starting to blur into a pure fiery sensation every time you rock your clit along his tongue. Callused fingers dig into your ass and help you, your hands release his hair so you can plant them above his head and start fucking down into his mouth. Your body is a rolling tide gradually beginning to rise, breathing speeding up and pleasure mounting until everything finally boils over and you cum just like that, on your knees and the heat of your cunt rocking against his face.
Eventually, the aftershocks die down just enough to feel his arms slide up to hook around your thighs, keeping you steady and held in a firm grip that you’re immediately thankful for. Your energy is drained and your spine slouches while you recover, panting and buzzing in a post orgasm bliss.
But then of course, Din decides to use thatof all moments to start moving his tongue.
Your chin snaps upwards in the darkness and everything in you seizes, but you’re clutched in a devastating grip that keeps you anchored right there to the floor. His arms are steel iron shackles wrapped around your hips and a tongue that has gotten waytoo good at learning what you like for you to even keep up. That firm, perfect rhythm right over your clit, giving you everything you begged for earlier but at the most overwhelming of moments. No matter how you try to scramble away from the shocks of oversensitivity, he’s able to yank your hips back to sit down exactly where he wants you.
You choke out his name and Din keeps you held there so tightly that your weight is actually shifted backwards at one point, forcing you to reach both hands back and plant them against the floor behind you so you don’t bend wrong. Your head drops back and your mouth opens silently at the ceiling, expression clenched and lungs gasping while you endure. He doesn’t let up and you think you must acclimate at some point, because there’s just a split second of warning you get where lightning sparks in your floor muscles and then comes the crash.
Your body contracts so wildly with your second orgasm that you fling forwards and barely catch yourself at the last moment, shaking and moaning through the onslaught. You nearly rip the blankets under your fists, that’s how hard he makes you cum. It was good when you were in charge of taking your own pleasure but he’s just shamedyou, it’s fucking blinding when he’s in control. Your shoulder just barely muffles your sob of ecstasy and it takes so much out of you that you’re dead weight on top of him afterwards, not able to move a single muscle.
Somehow, you find yourself tucked against his side once more with your head laying against his chest, just like when you first woke up this morning, and you’re as comfortable as you are confused. How did you get here? You don’t really remember Din easing your body down next to him and then scooping one arm around you into this position, but when you squeeze your legs together, your pussy is still throbbing and you’re wet with his mouth. He holds you silently, and you both bask in the endorphins for a few moments while you catch your breath.
You’re still slightly dazed, but your body feels so fucking good and pleased that you blurt it out without thinking. “When can I look at you, Din?”
You think he’s just as surprised as you are by the unexpected… helplessness in the way you say it. Phrasing it like that in a strangely powerless tone, as if he’s the one standing in your way and preventing it.
“Why does it sound like you’re whining?” He turns his head to ask you flat out, and even though there’s no malice behind his words, they’re so blunt and forthright that you immediately bury your face in his neck to snort an embarrassed laugh in agreement. It did sound like that and you’re really not proud.
“You’re right,” you admit, feeling his palm beginning to drift up and down your back. It immediately relaxes you and soothes every worry or anxiety. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“I already told you before.” His voice suddenly sounds deeper. Not the pitch necessarily, but the actual depthof it. Almost contemplative, in a sense. Saying it to you as if he’s now just a little further away than he physically feels while holding you. “Look whenever you want.”
You know this. What you don’t know is if your lingering inability to decide on a moment is a testament to your natural aversion to taking charge in important situations or if it’s just because of his tone whenever he talks to you about it. There’s a sudden quietness that his voice tends to take on, a reserved silence that sits deeper than his normal preference for not speaking that makes you wonder if you still don’t know some very crucial detail he isn’t sharing. He said Mandalorians look at each other when they agree to spend the rest of their lives together, but is that it? If so, you can’t imagine life would change all that much beyond being able to look him in the eyes whenever you’re alone with him. You’d still be here on the ship to raise the kid while he hunts for quarries, you’d still spend blissful nights wrapped in his arms, the only thing that would be different is that you could have the lights on. You could take his helmet off every single time he comes back from a hunt and give him a long, soft kiss in the privacy of the hull, fluorescents bright and blaring along the bone structure you only know by touch.
You’re quiet for a while, but Din’s voice comes through the darkness when it’s clear you don’t know what to say.
“Do you need to…” You don’t have any fucking clue what he’s trying to ask, but the quiet unsure way he says it is endearing all on its own. “Do you have anybody you… need to tell first?”
It immediately strikes you as odd—when he found you on Arvala-7, you didn’t need to say any goodbyes before hightailing it off that barren wasteland and you don’t ever remember him once mentioning the complete lack of people you told. Why would he ask that, you wonder? But then, you suddenly realize he’s likely only saying that because he’s just as clueless as you are about what you seem to be waiting for.
“Are you asking me if I have a family, Din?” You tilt your chin up to kiss him slowly, even though your lips want to pull into a smile at the sentiment. “A mother you need to impress? A father you need to ask for permission?”
His head drops against the blanketed floor with an already overwhelmed thump and groan. “If they exist, they’re going to despise me.”
And you allow yourself to consider it for just a single second, not trying to hide your blinding grin in the darkness. What a disasterthat would be—a story all its own, watching him introduce himself to your parents with a gruff silence and awkward stance. He’s only charming to you, it’s a fact you’re well aware of every single time you’ve seen him interact with anyone else. Karga, Peli—he’s… abrasive and stoic with them, short and the furthest thing from sweet. You can’t even imagine what it would look like if he actually cared about anyone else’s approval, much less tried to gain it.
Still, you can’t help but tease him. “Despise you? What makes you say that?”
“Because I took their little girl away from them,” Din purrs in response, riding his hand down the curve of your hip without moving his head off the floor. “And I do terrible things to her in the dark.”
Shit, if he keeps talking like that, terrible things will be the only things you do in the dark, and you know neither one of you is physically prepared to go again. Instead, you smile and admit the truth.
“They don’t exist,” you tell him, dragging a finger along his chest as it moves. “Not anymore. I’m all yours to steal away, no one will challenge your honor.”
Din shifts slightly, just enough to imply he’s lifting an arm back to prop his head up and look at you.
“Kuiil was all you had?” He whispers after a moment, reaching a careful hand forward to play with your hair.
“Pretty much,” you whisper back, resting your chin on his chest. This isn’t something you necessarily enjoy talking about, but when he’s the one asking, you suppose it’s easy to share. “Some neighbors here or there that I took turns staying with, but Kuiil… taught me everything I know. Helped raise me, and then let me hang around and bother him after I was old enough to be on my own. It took a village, but he was always my favorite.”
“Is that why you’re so good with electronics?” Din asks thoughtfully, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I never knew that much about him, except that he was a great mechanic, and a… selfless man. A good person. I really liked him.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, more wistful at his memory than sad. Din doesn’t like a vast majority of people, but if anyone deserves the mantle, it should be Kuiil. “Big scary Mandalorian in the middle of the desert with fifty guns strapped to him, Kuiil still probably would’ve given you the shirt off his back if you said you could use it. He helped me keep the farm going after my parents died. I think… he was my best friend.”
It’s a few moments before Din speaks, but when he does, his voice is barely there. Hidden in the darkness almost as much as his face is, but informing you of everything you need to know just by his tone. “My parents died, too.”
Your heart automatically goes out to him, even though it’s currently pressed tight against his without any fabric obstructing it. Din doesn’t sound particularly sad, but maybe… resigned, and you can relate to the feeling. It must’ve happened so long ago that it’s just a fact at this point, nothing particularly painful or groundbreaking, not anymore.
Your voice is soft with understanding. “And then you were raised by the Mandalorians?”
He nods an affirmative in the pitch black, but you can only tell through the way his muscles subtly move under you.
“Did you ever have a family with them?” You ask, not wanting to press too hard on painful memories but also not wanting him to think you’re disinterested in hearing about his past. He almost never shares it, you need to tread lightly whenever he decides to. “A clan you joined before creating your own?”
“No,” he answers calmly, but there’s something gentle and somber in his tone that you’ve never heard before. Lost in his memories. “I was too old for that when they found me, I was sent to the militia for training the first week I was there.”
Well that… doesn’t sound good. They sent an orphan to train with an army a week after his family died? Even if he was a teenager or young adult at the time, far older than your measly eight years when you lost your parents, that’s just… unfathomably cruel.
And then all of a sudden, things start clicking into place even without having any further details. Just knowing that simple, two sentence fact about him explains so fucking much, it’s insane. The preference for solitude, the militaristic attitude and gruff exterior, the sandpaper grit he approaches his entire life with, it makes so much sense now. If you had no generous neighbors or community to rely on when things fell apart, you’d probably be hardened to stone, too.
Instead, you’re… tenderhearted. Where he’s fearless and quiet and rough around the edges, you’re curious and dreamy and emotionally empathetic. How easily could the roles have been reversed given the circumstances, you wonder? Could you have ever survived an existence like his before you met him? Something tells you that you’d probably die first, left behind somewhere or taken by your loneliness. You hated your childhood—you still can’t think about that horrid, lonely desert without shuddering, but… you suppose there are far worse things to endure in life than how you were forced to survive, and the man holding very still underneath you waiting for your response is testament enough to that.
“A clan of foundlings, then,” you muse softly, settling the conversation there. He’s shared more than enough, more than you’d ever have the tenacity to ask.
“This is The Way,” Din murmurs quietly at the ceiling in response, and it might be another half hour or so just like that before you both finally drag yourselves out of bed. You should be arriving at your destination soon to retrieve the fifth quarry, and neither of you have forgotten about the deal you both made before you spent a week outrunning him.
***
For as much keeping secrets has always been somewhat of a precedent for Din, you’re starting to realize he’s really not all that great at it.
Or maybe you’re just getting lightyears better at reading him, feeling the subtle shifts in his energy and figuring out exactly what he’s thinking just by listening to his footsteps pace around behind you. Your clothing is being balled up and thrown into a spare bag, he’s accumulating all measley credits he can find stashed around the hull and throwing them in there too, and you’re standing still in the middle of the hull while he can’t stop moving. Crossing in front of you, behind you, finding things to add to the bag that he’d never take for just himself. Extra rations, extra supplies—he even walks over and yanks open the emergency kit, rummaging around and grabbing an E-bacta shot. Though, he wavers slightly on it, looking down at the syringe balanced in his glove for a bit longer than necessary before adding it to the stash.
You know exactly what’s going through his head, it’s almost entertaining. Almost, being the key word. If you weren’t feeling so empathetic, you might find the constant restlessness a bit disconcerting, but as it is… your heart is very warm and heavy in a strange way. Part of the reason you haven’t said anything is because you’re wondering if he’s actually going to follow through here, or if he’s going to say something to you. Is he going to speak up?
From the tightness in his shoulders and the low angle of his helmet as he walks, you’re guessing not.
“Hey,” you finally murmur, giving him a soft smile while you cuddle the kid a little closer to your chest. “I know. It’s alright.”
“Know what?” He asks distractedly, walking over to the armory and opening it. He begins strapping extra ammunition to his body—knives, vibroblades, bullets, fitting guns in places you never even considered before, and it’s endearing enough to make you smile softly.
“I know you’re trying to figure out if you should tell me the truth or not,” you respond, shrugging a shoulder and looking down at your feet when he slows to a stop.
“The truth about what?” Din asks, cautious and slow.
“That you found me way before midnight that last day on Sanctuary II,” you say as you study the floor, your voice coming out melodic and sweet and maybe just the smallest bit sad. “Days before then, probably, but you let me have an adventure when you didn’t have to. You really don’t want us coming with you to grab this quarry, but you also don’t want to tell me I lost. It’s alright. I know.”
Though… you’d still love to go with him. You’ve been studying the quarry’s identity whenever you can, memorizing his face and name and the vague background the Guild has on him. Oshua Ryler, twenty year old human male, missing for two months, no criminal record, last seen on Anoth. The puck was commissioned by his twin sister Thia, ten thousand credit reward if found alive, zero if brought back dead.
It’s a complete shot in the dark for a very small return, but you were so excited about being useful that you had absorbed every bit of information you could about him. Din never said a damn thing to you about it, his voice sounded light and unbothered whenever he addressed you and at first, you thought he wasn’t unhappy to have the company.
But then you caught sight of his hunched shoulders and his worried pacing. The rigid movements and the way his hands never stopped fidgeting. Always moving, sleeping and eating less the closer you got to Anoth, not speaking the amount you normally inspire in him.
If that didn’t make you go all gooey and soft with understanding, then the way he was clearly trying to hide it from you sure did. He’d only stand there and look visibly conflicted when you weren’t paying attention, he’d only allow his composure to slip whenever he thought you weren’t looking.
Even now, when you finally glance up at him, Din is holding very still like he’s just a big metal canteen filled with uncertainty. It melts you instantly, makes you fold without even looking to see if you have a winning hand. He knows how much it means to you that you’re not stuck in one spot for days on end again. And… you also know much it means to him that you and his son stay here, far away from the danger that seems to follow him around like the cape clipped to his shoulders.
“Be safe,” you finally lift your chin to tell him, showing him your most heartfelt smile. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
And then he’s instantly rushing forward and crowding you, pressing his body up against yours and squeezing you tight. You nearly stumble backwards at the unexpected ambush and have just enough sense to save the baby at the very last second from being squished.
“Thank you,” he whispers next to your ear and stars, you have never been crushed like this. Not emotionally—literally, physically, you think your back actually pops under the strain of his arms and you can’t decide if you need to get away to prevent your spine breaking or if it’s the greatest feeling in the universe.
When you’re finally released from the death grip, it takes you a moment to recover and you do so with gentle gloves cupping your jaw, a beskar helmet lingering so close to your face that you’re sure he’s behind the visor looking at you like you painted the sky. Hell, you probably would’ve conceded a long time ago if you knew this was the kind of relief that would flood through his soul—it’s palpable, you can feel it roll through him under the armor. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed for choosing to stay behind like normal, but without you and the kid tagging along, he’ll probably be much quicker and more efficient with grabbing this throwaway puck.
Still. You point to the e-comm strapped to his wrist, and the matching one on yours. “Midnight check-in?”
His thumbs brush the line of your cheekbones as if you’re made of glass, transparent and fragile and cherished after being completely compacted and crumpled with gratitude. “If I can.”
That’s the best you’re going to get, and right now, you think you’re so dumb in love with this man that it’s more than enough for your dreamy little heart.
***
“Well, little goblin!” It’s done. It’s finally done, after months of work, and you’re proud enough to fucking beam. “How do I look?”
It’s been barely a few hours since Din left, and you spin around and lift your arms like a ship, glancing down at your figure with glee. Din’s old armor lays against you like it was created for you specifically, but that’s just a manifestation of your attention to detail. You slaved over this in all your free time not spent sparring or practicing your shots—dissolving all the paint and rust, reshaping the metal with Peli’s forge, rewiring the magnetics box to make sure it would stick to the underplates without falling off—and now it’s fucking perfect. It’s missing gloves and boots and one of the pauldrons for your shoulders, and of course, a helmet obviously, but a chest piece and two thigh braces and one pauldron actually looks kinda fucking cool. Less invasive, less heavy, arguably more feminine. Even though you’ve got nothing besides your dark, drab clothing underneath it, you still think you look… badass.
Badass.
Two gigantic black eyes blink thoughtfully at you, causing you to frown at the lack of immediate happiness from him. Come on, is nobody thrilled to see your character growth? Din was silently torn up by your childlike drive to adventure and the kid is now apparently unimpressed by the productivity you’ve engaged with during the waiting periods, so what gives? Are you missing something? Are you the problem?
No, of course not. It’s like this metal strapped to your body refuses to let you think that way any longer. You’re not the problem, but you canbe, it whispers to you.
Though, while you’re peacocking around in front of the ship in the new digs and hyping yourself up, the baby just spins around and walks away from you.
“Hey, where are you going?” You call out to his tiny little back, popping your hands on your hips. When you don’t get a gurgled response, you sigh and follow him back up the ramp, clanking. Clanking,you’re making that sound. You like to imagine that this is almost how pretty ladies in big cities feel when they wear high heels for the first time and get to listen to the clack. Ooh, it’s powerful, a reminder of your upgraded wardrobe every step you take, and you fucking loveit.
You get why Din never wanted to take his off. When the armor is comfortable and fits your body, it feels… right. Correct. Meant to be. An extension of yourself that you could almost forget about if it wasn’t weighing you down. It’s safe and concealing, protecting your body in a way that makes you want to keep it on if only for peace of mind, regardless of external threats.
Eventually, you find the kid next to the bed, hauling your backpack out from the corner of the hull. It’s three times his size and four times his weight, but he continues heave-hoing across the floor until it’s far enough away from the wall to open the contents.
“What’s up, bug?” You ask, plopping down next to him with a rattling clink clank clonk. You can get used to this, holy shit. “You hungry? No fresh meat in there, sorry to disappoint. We can go look for something outside?”
You make a gesture of putting your hand to your open mouth a few times and then touch your tummy, something you’ve started doing to signify the word food to him. The kid ignores you completely, but he also seems stumped at the concept of a zipper, so you open it for him and watch him dig around in an attempt to satisfy both of your curiosities. Soon, two little green three-fingered hands tug out a light piece of fabric. He drags it over to you and pushes the clothing into your lap, and you study it with raised eyebrows. Your robe from the festival in Nariss? This is what he wants?
“Do you want me to wear this?” You ask out loud, considering. It’s got two pieces, the hooded tunic and the pants, and it might go well with the armor. The robe was literally made from scratch for you but you never really considered putting it on again, thinking of it more as a costume full of good memories than an everyday wear kinda thing, but it might be a good idea just to see.
A few minutes later, and, well. This kid is a fucking genius. For donning a drab brown sack around his body at all times, he makes one hell of a stylist.
You look… like you finally belong at Din’s side, almost. His equal—wait, no, pfft, definitely not equal, but a counterpart of sorts. A sidekick? Are you giving off sidekick vibes, is that what this is? The opalescent fabric shielding your body has no bloodstains or wear and tear the way his clothing does, the armor laying on top of it has no char marks or dents from enemy blasters, but you look like you’re at least in the right place now. An untried soldier, perhaps, or one that’s been sheltered and never had to pay any real dues.
Since you’re already in this deep, you figure you might as well complete the package. There’s an extra holster you find in the Crest’s armory and an ammo belt that slings across your chest. It’s a bit big on you and the fancy gas canisters for your blaster weigh it down more than the regular ones Din uses, but it works. From what you can see in the reflection of the Crest’s fuselage, you’re thrilled with the final result and this time the kid is beaming, too.
He climbs up your thigh and you scoop him up, chuckling at the way he plops against the armor and snuggles up against it. Usually he sits on one of your hips, but this time you cradle him in a forearm just because the metal is too clunky to navigate.
“Guess who I am, goose.” You give one of his cheeks a tiny little poke, and the boy giggles. “Who am I?”
He looks perfectly at home cuddling up to solid steel, just as comfortable as he is when he’s falling asleep in Din’s lap. It makes you acutely aware of just how small he is, how fragile and helpless. While you’re looking down and admiring him, you see the kid bring one tiny little hand up to his mouth a few times, and then reach down to touch his tummy while he blinks up at you.
Ah, so he ishungry. You suspected as much, one meal keeps his tiny tummy full for awhile but it’s been a few days since he gobbled down some poor live animal. He’s entirely capable of catching and consuming it himself, which is a relief on your behalf, but it was pretty horrendous to witness the first couple go arounds.
“Alright, squirt,” you huff, clanging down the ramp and not bothering to close it behind you since you don’t plan on being too long. Maker, the sound is so sexy, it sits deep in your bones and makes you stand up a bit straighter, lift your chin a little higher. “Let’s see if we can find you something.”
Apparently not much happens on Anoth. The terrain is rocky and the population is abysmally low, which isn’t all that ideal. A local town or marketplace may give you something to do, but you suppose there’s an upside to boredom. The Crest continues to be pristine and you’ve now cultivated a new set of armor out of crumpled scrap that used to be gathering dust in a forgotten storage compartment. Even though there isn’t any real information about the level of crime on this planet—which typically means it’s not notable enough to be a concern—you feel safer like this as you begin trekking around slate grey boulders in search of a small animal. Your blaster slung around your hip, the light fabric rippling in the breeze, and silver metal clinging to your body.
Wait. You reach up to lift your hood over your head and pull the mask up over your nose, and now. Yes, this is the feeling. Your breath puffs against the fabric and your boots scrape across pebbles and rough cliffs, and the baby seems so content in your arm that he’s actually quiet the entire time. You search for a good twenty minutes in easy silence, but this planet seems… barren. No crawling critters outside for the baby to chase down and catch, no rivers running nearby to grab a fish from, and no markets or people to be seen.
There is, however, a large flock of birds flying overhead and a perfectly good blaster on your hip. Better than good actually, magnificent and crafted for your hand specifically. There’s also a hungry baby looking longingly up at the sky, and you give him approximately thirty seconds to use his sorcery to pluck one of them out of thin air and levitate it down towards his greedy green hands.
When it doesn’t happen, you lift your blaster with one hand and cradle the kid with the other, squinting one eye shut while you take aim.
Breathe in, breathe out. Fire.
Without any ceremony at all, the plasma beam hits and one of the birds plummets to the ground, dead long before it even reaches impact.
You… truthfully, there isn’t a single part of you that actually thought you’d make contact the very first shot, which might be why you suddenly feel shocked and a bit nauseated by your actions. You didn’t even think—you saw a living thing and then you killed it because the baby in your arms was hungry, no consideration beyond it. It makes logical sense to any rational person, yes, but it doesn’t make sense for you,and it’s fucking you up because it didn’t fuck you up the way it should’ve. You allowed the instant power rush to make you careless and brash, and the sound of it hitting the ground slices through the armor clinging to your body.
You remove your hood and pull down your mask while approaching the dead animal with a frown, trying your best to not feel like a terrible person for shooting it. It’s like as soon as your face is revealed and you’re staring down at it, the guilt starts digging claws into your stomach, shame rolling off you in waves. This little bird did nothing to you, it didn’t deserve to die, but then the baby climbs out of your grip and drops to the ground with a happy little coo. He waddles up and grabs the corpse without blinking, and then downs the entire thing in one bite, feathers and all.
“Oh.” Your face twists up with disgust, but you’re also strangely relieved at the fact that you didn’t have to be the one to touch it and that it’s completely gone now. Out of sight, out of mind. You don’t like dead things and regardless of the armor you’re wearing, you really don’t like being the reason they’re dead. Or handling them when they’re dead. Or looking at them when they’re dead. But if it’s to feed the baby, then you suppose the creature has served a greater purpose than it ever would have alive, and there’s an entire flock of them continuing to fly and sing unbothered above your head. At least the end was swift and painless for this animal, and you much prefer that over witnessing it being swallowed alive by the deceptively tiny chomper at your feet.
You think you’re still working to process what you just did when the speaker in your ear flicks on.
“Sweet girl—” Din’s voice suddenly crackles through the comm, sounding out of breath and… scared. “—to get out, they’re coming for the kid, you have to get—”
“Mando?” You reach a hand up to the earpiece, trying to hear him. He’s breaking in and out, but for the first time since you’ve known him, it sounds like there’s true terror in his voice. He’s speaking so fast, fitting so many words into such a small space when he normally doesn’t talk much at all. “Slow down, I can’t understand you—”
“Run!” He roars through the earpiece. “You can’t let them take him! Get to Nevarro—Karga will—”
Screeches of blasters quickly fill the comm and drown his voice out before he can say anything else, and you try calling out to him again but get no response. You stare down at your wrist in shock and when the communicator cuts out completely, you’re left standing with the baby at your feet in dead silence.
There’s about five full seconds of nothing before you grab the kid off the ground, turn around and sprint like hell back to the Crest.
Your mind blares panic as you run, Din’s voice repeating in your thoughts over and over again. They’re coming for the kid, you can’t let them take him, you have to get out. What does that mean? Who is coming for the kid? Whoever they are, it’s enough to make him scream at you to retreat to Nevarro, sending a life or death rush of adrenaline through your veins, pumping your legs forward as fast as you can.
Fuck, you traveled so far away from the Crest, you were so lost in your head while wearing this armor that you put your family in danger. The metal makes too much noise while you run, like it’s just not meant for it. Not meant to be worn by someone sprinting so fast for safety, it’s meant to protect someone standing still and confronting the threat that’s chasing them. The large rocks scattered around the landscape require you to serpentine your way through them, never slowing and never stopping. Get to the Crest, get to Nevarro, don’t let them take the kid.
It takes an eternity but as soon as you see the ship parked in the distance, you spot a small group of stormtroopers walking up the open ramp.
Stormtroopers?
You halt in your tracks so fast that you skid forward on the rocky ground and nearly fall, not quite believing your eyes. What the fuck are they doing here? At first you think you’re just imagining your worst nightmare coming to life—the Empire never made its way out to Arvala-7 but you’ve heard more than enough stories from Kuiil to know what you can handle and what you need to run from. You’ve never seen a stormtrooper in real life before, but you know what the armor looks like. You recognize the white plastic they strap to themselves, the cheap regulation blasters they carry and how they’re notorious for not being able to use it, but they represent a much larger threat than any single one of them individually and you’re woefully unprepared to face it.
You spin around and duck behind an enormous boulder before they can spot you, shoulders pressed tight to the rock and baby clutched to your chest as you sink down to the ground. Your heartbeat slams in synchrony to the footsteps of the troopers moving up the Crest, and your arms are wrapped so tightly around the kid that he has to use his arms to shove at your rigid hold in order to be released.
“What do I do?” You whisper to him when he finally looks up at you, staring into his large black eyes as if he’ll choose now of all moments to speak coherent words in full sentences. “What do I do?”
The wrinkles are purely for aesthetic purposes, there’s no sage advice to be found from them. You feel like you’re having an anxiety attack and might actually die before ever making it out of here. Your breaths are all wrong—you try to close your eyes and do everything you can to breathe the way Din told you, inhaling quietly through your nose and letting it out through your mouth, but you can’t. You can’t get enough oxygen, you’re so scared that your lungs are trembling and they’re making it impossible to stay silent. Tears flood your eyes and you hunker down, body freezing and crumpling under the terror. You know you need to run, but you can’t seem to move a single muscle and your only means of escape is being boarded and captured right now.
You’re doomed. You’re being confronted by certain death from dozens of meters away and it’s so much scarier when it doesn’t sneak up on you. One of the last things Din said was that they’re looking for the kid, and while you have no clue what the Empire could possibly want with this child, there isn’t a single doubt in your mind of what will happen to you if they get to him. You’re going to die if you don’t find some way to escape with the baby. You know it, and Din knows it. You could hear the pain ripping through his vocal chords when he screamed at you to run. He could be dead right this second but you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t think—
Three fingers slowly land on your cheek.
You blink at the baby in front of you, the unexpected touch of him enough to hit a reset on your fumbling and leave you stunned with zero thoughts. Feeling his tiny hand brush against the tears wetting your skin for a moment.
Except, then all he does is use your face to prop himself up and start climbing. You automatically grimace and scrunch an eye shut to protect yourself from his claws, but then he reaches one arm behind your head with a small gurgle.
Slowly, the fabric of your hood is tugged upwards, with a few pieces of your hair caught in his grip and being yanked on at the same
Warnings:SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!
A/N: Hey yall!!! So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read! School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc
Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!! As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!
Day 5–11:13am:
You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot. Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider. You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns. The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.
Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime. Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip. You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago. On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes. Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.
It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.
“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it. “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”
Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it. Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy. Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you. Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.
“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth. “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”
Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids. “They start at eight.”
Thefireworks, you almost forgot. You know what? Today is a good day. You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one. The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back. Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.
Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates. The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago. The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask. Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes. It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by. Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony. Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color. Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.
Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.
It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city. As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming. The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete. You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you. Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers. Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops. Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them. You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.
About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch. There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself. Good intentions, terrible idea. Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours. It’s so goodand it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at. Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.
Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language. Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different. It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy. Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it. Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on. There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.
At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin. You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.
A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession. First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always. Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs. Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions. The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…
Through it all, you think of Din. No matter the faces, the sights you see. There’s someone juggling. There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts. There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed. Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din. Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you. You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year. You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go. For you, he’d go.
Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second. Why… Why was that scene so vivid? So wistful? You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din. But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation. Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him. Why? You want to travel the galaxy, right? You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?
For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.
***
Day 5—5:04pm:
It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.
More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over. You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.
“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress. So many fucking people here, you know her pain. “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were justhere—”
She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.
“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you. “Before anyone knows they’re missing. Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while? You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”
Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task. Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be. Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days. The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you’ve ever met.
“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees. It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”
You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word. You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.
***
Day 5–5:17pm:
“Really?” You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.
Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you. The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet. The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.
“How did you find us so fast?” One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.
“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn. Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off. All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult. “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”
“Are you gonna rat us out?” The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.
“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away. “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”
You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.
The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second. Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective. Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—
He’s here… isn’t he?
Only, there’s nothing. Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will. You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.
It’s so… unexpected, this feeling. It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter. You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens. Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not. Playing with you from so far away.
This…thisis a taunt.
The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary. Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was. This is scarily sophisticated. Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you. You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid. You know him with your eyes closed. You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace. Not because you can see it, not really, not directly. But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.
“You okay, Nerida?”
The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you. The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.
“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room. He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least. But you’re not stupid, you know what this means. You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way. He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down. You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.
“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools. “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left. Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”
***
Day 5–5:32pm:
Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows. You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering. Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.
Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place. When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily. A purple fruit. She must’ve saved it for you.
Maker, fuck yes. It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors. As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards. It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him. You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.
Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it? It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float. It’s just a thing. Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives. Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles. You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time. You don’t know what else you’d call it. Love is the only word. To love, to know. To hold in the heart.
Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group. You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.
“Where is everyone going?” You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem. It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together. They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately. Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next. A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.
“The eastern part of the city!” Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings. “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”
“Is…” You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn. Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway. “Is it part of an ocean?”
Naydee shakes her head. “A really big lake!”
Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it. You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view. And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.
Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage. You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze. So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you. Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes. They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown. You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.
And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on. All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out. They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything. You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city. It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time. You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.
And that’s when you see him.
But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he’s just allowing it to happen. You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for. Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away… This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes. If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you’re about to be on the wrong side of.
You have a decision to make, very quickly. Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear. Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time. Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.
You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping. Baby. He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion. You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to. You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.
Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly. What do you do, what do you do?
No matter what, you know it’s over. Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result. What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you? The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.
Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear. When you do see me… try to outrun.
You should run—run,it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.
Unless…
Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor. You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right. This maybe has a… two percent chance of working? Maybe? Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have? Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.
You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead. He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing. Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left. Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—
A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.
Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear. Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrifiedand it shows, you can see it in your eyes.
You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.
“Miss Nerida?” A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actuallyfight him. Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.
Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner. They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units. Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you. Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.
Just a few more hours, kid. A few more hours.
Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.
“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking. Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong. “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”
They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you. You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it. She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.
“What did you do?” He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice. He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed? The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.
You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory. It worked. It worked. You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip. Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.
“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze. “Don’t get caught.”
There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds. “You look beautiful.”
You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you. The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.
***
Day 5–5:24pm:
Din is fucking furious.
Hehadyou. You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere. In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you. Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.
But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you. They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following. It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.
He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour. It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.
Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes. There was… a moment. Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet—
No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be. It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.
But he can’t get rid of it. Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered. The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear. It was silvery, he’s almost certain. Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.
Color. Everywhere. Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.
***
Day 5–6:59pm:
This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.
It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it. Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream. The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.
That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would. You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.
You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now. You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud. You’ve decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though. Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be. Fully, without worry or fear.
Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—
It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen. So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it. You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.
As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response. There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.
Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.
Din.
You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above. You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself. “Do you always see in black and white?”
It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does. “Only when I’m tracking someone.”
The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you. You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is. He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.
“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?” You ask after a moment. This whole time, everything has been grey for him?
“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all. “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”
For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying. Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly. He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him. “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”
He takes a second, before clarifying for you. “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”
So that was the ultimatum. He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again. Does he not understand? Does he not know what you know? Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him. It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest. And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive. Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t. Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.
“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky. It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point. “You’d find me without the helmet. And I’d find you.”
The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick. You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course. That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred. Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight. This is a celebration of life and family. Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching. A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.
“Think so?” He asks softly. He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant. You’re able to hear it in his words. You don’t know why, though. Doesn’t he believe you? Perhaps… perhaps this isn’tThe Way. Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all. Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love. This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that? How would the Mandalorians reconcile that? You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face. It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.
“I know so.” For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does. Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you. “Will you look at the sky?”
“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t. Not the way you want him to. And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you? The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest. You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them. All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time. You want him to know the significance of that.
“With color?” You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.
“I…” Din wants to argue, or at least say it again. He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off. It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.
“How do I fix it then?” You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold. How do you fix this problem? How do you convince him to look with you? You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left. “Do you want me to come look for you? It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away. Look at the sky.”
It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay. You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response. You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you. He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.
But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again. This must be the end, they saved the best for last. Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.
“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you. Maker, it is, isn’t it? Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying. Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.
It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways. It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.
Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.
“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on. “Come and find me.”
***
Day 5–7:37pm:
After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.
Stars, that’s a lot of children. They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.
“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her. “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”
“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up. At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you. Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day. You’re going to have to say goodbye now.
“What happened to your family?” She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention. “Have you been in touch with them? If not, I’m sure you can come back with us. It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”
You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.
But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?
There’s more people here. More danger, but better places to hide. It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense. But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women. He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.
It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule. Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses? Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time? No, you’re overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.
“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that. Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end. Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond. Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical. Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it. You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.
“I…” Quick, come up with something. You clear your throat. “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them. I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”
Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”
Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t. You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is. You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them. But with Din, you don’t have any walls. They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since. It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.
Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is. Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back. The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out. You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.
You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is. You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time. He could be anywhere now. Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.
***
Day 5–11:32pm:
You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view. One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so. Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.
The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach. Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy. If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it. These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous. Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.
It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong. This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so. It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier. Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet. Why? Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right. What’s he waiting for? You can’t have won. It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he shouldbe there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.
When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.
“Sorry!” Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face. “Didn’t mean to scare you! I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there. “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”
You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus. She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din. Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you. You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far. Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards. You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls. What is he doing?
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”
She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently. The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.
Fuck, you just need to breathe. As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax. You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance. Breathe. Focus. There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.
Can you eat? You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy. You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now. The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard. It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there. The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.
A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there. Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator. Five minutes. You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you. Can you feel him? Is he closing in?
You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath. Focus on that feeling from earlier. The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards. Can you feel him?
Something catches your eye.
Or no… it doesn’t, does it? Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss. The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual. Nothing else.
But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall. It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat. He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?
Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back. You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately needto keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—
—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.
Run. Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t. Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass. He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can. The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away. Where’s the kid? How did he get those robes? Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?
Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.
You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them. It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward. Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster. Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.
As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you. Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.
Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you. Walk right by… Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing. He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place. The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.
You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight. Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away. The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster. It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.
You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet. Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door. Where is he? There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them? Wasn’t he right behind you?
Summary: The Mandalorian brings you and the children to the Tribe.
Words:5.3k
Rating/Warnings:T, maybe? A little bit of bloody description.
Notes: Happy May the Fourth!!! I’m personally super excited for this part of the story. Fair bit of warning, I did improvise some of the Mandalorian culture. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Nevarro is a desolate rock of ash and burnished horizon, and you feel like clutching all three children closer to you once the Razor Crest is safely landed. The Mandalorian chose to set the ship down behind a gulch, something that would have normally terrified you for your lack of vision, but his logic, as always, is sound and planned. The Tribe lives in a subterranean enclave, and there exists more than one way to enter underground.
If the Mandalorian senses your tension, he says nothing about it. The little ones, however, not only share your worries but fully confide in you about them. Corde pulls at the ends of her hair, chewing at her bottom lip until it’s raw. You wrap her in your old cloak, folding it around her shoulders so her little arms aren’t susceptible to the cold. Their clothes, that you had already washed various times, were falling apart when you’d met them. Now, softened and fresh smelling, they were threadbare at best. You didn’t have enough fabric for handkerchiefs, let alone something they could wear, and it was another worry you put on the shelf in your mind.
The baby is the one most affected by your mood. His ears are perpetually drooped like wilting petals, his large, owlish eyes gazing up at you dolefully. When you hold him, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you pace, he fidgets and fusses, and you have to remember to take deep breaths. He eventually feels the settling of your heartbeat, begrudgingly quieting against your shoulder, and by the time the Mandalorian shows himself, dropping down from the ladder, you feel more tired than if you’d ran the whole way to Nevarro.
“How will they offload your cargo?” you ask, turning your mind to something other than what you’re about to do. He still has yet to collect payment from the jobs he took the last few weeks, including the Avlice brothers, and you knew he was ready to empty the hull. The children had not noticed what hung from the rafters, but it was only a matter of time. You weren’t sure if you would be able to explain that to them.
Summary: You tell Din about your past relationships; Din takes you sex toy shopping.
Pairing: Din Djarin x ADHD!fem reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: SMUT and feelings! 18+ only!! Language, unprotected PiV (inadvisable, plz wrap it before you tap it), mentions of sex toy use, mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex toys, light angst (in the form of abusive/controlling past partners), insecurities, anxiety; Reader has an unusually high libido (hypersexuality), and feels bad about it. I think that’s it, but please don’t hesitate to message me if I missed anything!
A/N: in honor of all the new Mando/Pedro content, and in honor of @chaoticgeminate ‘s birthday- here’s Vibes part 5
Another note: Am I working through some pretty heavy relationship and sexual trauma with this series? Absolutely. Thank you for tagging along for the ride.
One more note: thank you to @doin-stuff for the amazing Mando gif, and thank you @firefly-graphics for the amazing sex toy dividers (perfect right?)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought for a moment that Din was serious when he’d said he would help you shop for a less noisy vibrator. When you had landed on the ring-shaped, city-station (Glavis, Din had called it), he’d grabbed hold of your hand and practically dragged you out of the Crest and into the city in his excitement.
I would like you to know I had to go back and re-read all of Vibes in preparation for this because I was too excited! And now I’m going to dive in with gusto!
DIN IN A SEX TOY SHOP DIN EXCITED TO BE IN A SEX TOY SHOP DIN INSPECTING THE SEX TOYS I AM LOSING IT ASH! This is exactly the content I love, seeing Mando be not only positive but enthusiastically so. Reader’s past anxieties about buying a sex toy are so common, I felt the same way buying my first one too! Like can we calm down just a bit, I’ve been conditioned to not prioritize my orgasm, I’m having A Time right now.
The sex toy dividers are *chef’s kiss* too!
Oh honey, her experience with her past boyfriends makes me want to give her a hug. On top of figuring herself out, having to stroke these guys’ egos just to not feel rejected by them? Those were boys, and Mando is a MAN, and one who I’m sure will be a lot more understanding of her needs.
Using gentleness to keep you here with him instead of pain.
Din Djarin to a fuckin T. Yes yes yes, I love the way you characterize him here. Giving her the time to say what she needs to say and to reassure her. Telling her he doesn’t feel like it’s a responsibility to pleasure her. God, he’s just excellent.
Also as a side note, his physicality in this is off-the-charts hot. He’s exceptionally sensual not just in the way they have sex, but in the intimacy he gives her as well. Like I’m swooning over here as he laces their hands together and grips the back of her neck. Gah!
“How could I ever get tired of how much you want me?”
The PLEASE! Ash you’re going to kill me with this man. I am so in love with him. I’m going to catch on fire. How is he so HOT and RESPECTFUL!
The intensity with which he’s focused on it is reminiscent of how he uses his imposing presence to get information on bounties, and you’re about to ask him if he’s trying to intimidate the box into giving up the location of a quarry when he asks in a quiet, slightly-strained voice—
“…. why is it shaped like a flower?”
And then like that you have me laughing like a loon at this exchange. God, the duality of your writing gets me every time. I’m losing it and horny and it’s YOUR FAULT!
And then Din READING THE DESCRIPTIONS? I can hear it in my head and now will never be able to unhear it. I’m ruined forever.
Din Djarin also having preferences in what toys he likes makes me absolutely feral. I’ve seen writing where he’s tolerant of toys, uses them and has no problem with them, but I love the uniqueness of him actually showing interest and desires in what you pick.
leaning down so he can husk in your ear.
Ohhh you just reminded me of this phrasing and I love it.
“I changed my mind. I don’t care if it’s loud- if you’reloud.”
He reaches out and takes your hand in his, the supple leather creaking softly as he tightens his hold on you.
“I just want you to feel good.”
Fuck.
SAME GIRL SAME.
And he’s such a little sneaky sneak! I love how cute he’s being as well, picking out things he doesn’t show her. Also to be the shopkeep who rings up a Mandalorian’s sex toys would be the highlight of my life.
Every line he says is going to yeet me into horny space, Ash. I’m going to break an intergalactic speed limit with how turned on I am. I loved every second of this (as you can probably tell) and now I feel like I need to go shopping (BOB might be getting to retirement age. I’ll throw him a going-away party). I am DYING to see what comes of the next few installments and what surprises Mando has in store!
Summary: Mando offers a lesson in restraint. And blasters.
Word Count: 4000
Warnings:Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, grinding, descriptions of male and female bodies, allusions to sexual acts, female masturbation, descriptions of PiV sex, we’re fantasizing about one (1) sexy space dad in this house.
Notes: Don’t we all just love some weapons training? Someone explain to me why it is so attractive when Mando does it, because I have never found it sexy in real life. I’m also dedicating this installment to my Star Wars sister @amywritesthings because we just keep yelling at each other about how much this trope worms into our brains and I feel like she’s owed this as a treat.
Takes place directly after A Sweet Response to Tragedy. Like literally the next day.
The blaster in your hand is warm, sweaty along the grip and sticking to your palm. Your wrists are tired, your trigger finger stiff, but you raise the barrel to aim again before firing a bolt.
Zzzst!
“Miss,” Mando says, and you sigh comically, dropping the blaster from its durasteel target and tilting your head up to the sky.
“I don’t think this is a ‘practice makes perfect’ situation, Mando,” you huff, looking over at him. He’s sitting on a fallen tree, one elbow on his knee as the child stomps around in the dirt.
First of all the dedication has me weepy on a Tuesday. Second, the description alone has me marked down as scared and horny and I am sO READY TO READ THIS OH MY GOD, this is so exciting to come back to after my lil fic reading hiatus to go be a menace on a beach. Let’s do this WONDERFUL TROPE THAT SENDS ME TO MARS
You know I had to do it. My bestie in all things weapons related! Get ready to be at LEAST horny because as much as I love a slow burn, I also want to smush them together and make ‘em all sweaty.
(THE PEDRO TRIP TOO OMG this one is me like way too often)
We are starting off hot and suggestive. I love Mando flirting just a little bit, he’s barely said anything and I’m already sweating.
The whole conversation about their violent backgrounds makes me so very soft and wistful inside. They’ve both had danger and fear and safety be large parts of their lives and as scary as it has been, they’re finding not only companionship, but also allies in each other. I personally think that’s an even stronger bond. And Mando is such an understanding person. He wants to keep her safe, and give her skills to keep herself safe too.
And then we have COMPETENCY KINK ACTIVATED YEAH MANDO!
That image is burned into my brain. He knows what he’s doing. The training is secondary at this point. His brain is just on a loop of blaster innuendos. The fact that she made any shots is more telling of her own restraint than mine, I would have jumped him in an instant.
THE PRIEST IMAGE LOL. We might need some God after the next part.
Your reaction to that scene is EVERYTHING. I almost fainted at “Kneel,” too. I shouldn’t be allowed to have this much power, I only abuse it. And Mando losing his mind and willing to just go at it in the dirt has every feral bone in my body activating (plus one of his too).
!!!We have misplaced the baby, I repeat, the sexual tension broke and we misplaced the baby!!!
I love that you found the hide and seek line adorable, because I was sure people were going to be coming for my head for another Grogu cockblock. He was a little wingman for a second, even though he was the reason why they had to break it up.
YES GURL YOU IS! You is an us!
I think it’s finally starting to hit home with Mando that this is mutual. He’s been brushing off some of the signs out of anxiety about what the next step might look like, but he can’t deny what he feels much longer. And she is living on his ship, and wearing his clothes, and caring for his son! If that ain’t a relationship of some sort you deserve getting bonked in the beskar.
I have definitely been very slowly burning this, but in the next few episodes we’re going to make some headway. They’re not fooling each other anymore, and honestly they could use the release!
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Amy, I love you forever and sorry I made you horknee too early on a Tuesdayyyyyyy!
Mando – a honest-to-goodness (badness?) real Mandalorian – is in your rented room. Your now locked rented room. You are alone with a bounty hunter in a locked room. You are…
You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the burning in your chest forces it out. Mando doesn’t flinch or get up when you finally (idiot) see him (careless). You are smarter than this (no), you know the dangers of being a woman (not smart enough) yet you are now alone in a room with a trained killer (kriffing idiot you’re so screwed).
Pairing: mandalorian x jedi!reader Word Count:12.3k Summary: Years after the Empire fell, Aura ventures away from home to find whatever is left of her family. Not the Jedi part, but the part that descended from Mandalore. Amidst her search, meeting with an acquaintance on Sorgan, a Mandalorian and a youngling cross her path and change everything Aura thought she knew she was looking for.
note: it seems that for the 3rd time, Tumblr has crashed as I tried to post this so I’m ready to yeet myself into oblivion but HELLO THERE and please enjoy this piece of work I’m ready to cry over out of sheer stress <3
What was it with Jedi and their cloaks? Was it supposed to conceal their identity or announce their presence to the rest of the cloakless world?
Well, Aura supposed it never mattered anyway considering she never really finished becoming a Jedi.
Yet, here she sat with a soft brown cloak, matching her leather boots, sitting around her shoulders over a traditional Jedi outfit in the summertime heat of the planet Sorgan. Underneath the natural griege colored tunic hugging her frame as it bellowed down to her knees with the same fabric hugging her waist as a belt, Aura sported a long sleeve top tucked into a pair of fitted trousers that were the color of an off white.
It may have looked heavy, but the breeze that blew into the cantina grazed her skin and cooled her off with the drink she sipped. It wasn’t hard to catch a breeze when the wooden dome had been so loosely weaved together that there were so many gaps. It was nice though and the food smelled so amazing that she was tempted to grab seconds.
The chatter was loud though, mixed in with the hard working kitchen that sat in the center, and Aura almost couldn’t hear the footsteps of an old acquaintance approaching.
“Do all you Jedi sit so ominously?” asked Cara Dune, her strong voice standing out among that of all the creatures in this cantina.
Aura smiled, lifting the hood of the cloak from her head, revealing curly, straw like hair the color of sand that had been attempted to be packed into two braids.
“Sometimes it helps keep the creeps away.” Aura shrugged. “I see you’re hiding out these days so I don’t want to keep you very long.”
Cara Dune was a name she had only ever heard of, but the friend that connected them both from the rebellion was enough to consider the woman before her a friend. Aura was strong, but this woman’s could intimidate any threat in this world.
“I’m relaxing.” Cara shrugged. “But I was told someone referred me to you as a source to find someone?”
Judging by the way her face scrunched up and the way her voice lifted higher at the end of that question, Aura’s suspicion that this was a dead end was being confirmed with every passing second.
“Yes.” Aura sighed. “I’ve been searching for…” she trailed off as the many faces came to mind. “I am looking for other Mandalorians. There aren’t many left, but I heard that some had passed through Sorgan and then someone remembered that you lived here. I’ve been searching for years and at this rate, the Outer Rim is my last hope.”
Cara glanced around at the humble creatures that surrounded them and sighed with just as much despair.
“I wish I could help, Aura, but I haven’t seen anyone. I’ve only been here a week. It’s a quiet place.” she shrugged, to her disappointment. “Any Jedi mind tricks you could use?”
Aura blurted out a brief laugh that dissipated the weight on her chest for a moment and she shook her head. “Do you think I’d spend the last four years searching if I could?”
Cara laughed too, pausing to take a sip of her spatchka but at that very moment, her body went still as her eyes peered over to the entrance behind Aura’s head, that tilted with curiosity.
“If there’s a greater power than Jedi mind tricks then I think I just found it.” Cara muttered.
Aura’s face scrunched up and she glanced back, following the astonished gaze of her acquaintance and felt everything momentarily freeze. That first wind of curiosity for the Mandalorian who had walked through the door was followed by such a small, infantile movement in the Force itself at the sight of the creature that waddled beside him. A creature all too familiar with her for her liking and it was then, that the hopefulness that swelled in a single breath had been lost.
“Something isn’t right with that.” Aura said quietly, spinning back in her seat to face Cara.
The creature had looked so familiar, and not because it resembled a former mentor of hers.
“That’s not the Mandalorian I think you’re looking for, this guy’s Guild.” she said, mirroring her suspicion with a glare over at the man.
Both women glanced at the table this Mandalorian took a seat at with the child, and Aura’s eyes narrowed to get a better idea of who they were but even she was not that strong. However, she was able to gain a brief impression.
“He wants to know who we are.” said Aura, quick to be on the defensive as the newcomer spoke to a waitress. “What is the Guild?” she asked, glancing at Cara.
“Bounty hunters.”
Aura inhaled slowly, shutting her eyes for a moment before releasing the air through her nose. Of course it had to be a bounty hunter. It seemed that her luck was running dry these days but even in her wallowing disappointment, Aura sensed how uneasy Cara was.
“You think he’s here for you?” Aura guessed.
Cara shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a fob on me.”
Aura glanced between him and her acquaintance, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before they probably needed to leave.
“We’ll slip out the back and let me find out who he is. Stay covered though until I have him.”
“That’s all you.” Cara said, putting her hands up in defense.
Aura smiled.
In an instant, the pair slipped out of the cantina but in the quiet away from the chatter and kitchen sounds, Aura realized just how much her heart was racing. A breeze that rattled the trees made her aware of how on edge her nerves were even for a Jedi. She loved a good fight, but the sight of a Mandalorian that wasn’t the Mandalorian she was looking for was enough to raise reasonable suspicion either way.
While Cara went elsewhere, Aura hung above to have the high ground, tip toeing across another wooden dome, eyeing the Mandalorian as he made his way back to the small alley between homes.
As she observed, focusing in on him with precision to her stare, Aura was able to breathe with the wind without trying. When she dropped the cloak from her shoulders, welcoming the beaming sun on her arms, she was ready.
Aura leaped down on the confused Mandalorian’s shoulders. Before he had a second to retaliate, she back flipped off and landed low to the ground where she could sweep his legs out from under neath of him. Taking a quick breath, she got in a fighting stance, but it seemed the Mandalorian was quicker to get back on his feet and when he was throwing a fist at her, Aura had to act quick and just nearly dodged it.
As her fighting was more graceful, weaving in and out of the Mandalorian’s way in the small space between the wooden walls that closed them in, his fighting had been more brunt and every punched she blocked hurt as much as it would even if she hadn’t. Any time she backed him against a wall with such force of her own legs, the Mandalorian bounced back and suddenly it was her catching bruises.
Aura spun around him, ducking low and jumping high, refusing to reveal her limited use of the Force and at one moment she sprung up in front of him, she was able to swing her elbow back into the beskar helmet he wore and kicked his legs out from underneath of him again.
When went to pin him down, flames began to shoot from a weapon installed into the armor of his wrist, but Aura was quick to shove his arm back over his head and squeeze down on the armor, pinning him down successfully.
There was no time to catch her breath though when his gloved hands wrapped around her throat and flung her back over his head, and Aura met the ground with a breathtaking slam. As she rolled onto her side and retrieved the blaster in her boot though, it was met with another blaster from the Mandalorian himself.
It seemed they reached a stalemate.
“Well it seems like you didn’t need my help at all. I gotta give you a few pointers though next time.” Cara said, approaching them with the child.
Aura caught her breath, dropping the blaster and laying on her back, eyes lingering on the child who slurped his soup without a care in the world. This was no fraud of a Mandalorian.
“Want some soup?” he said, revealing his voice for the first time.
“Saw most of my action mopping up after Endor. Thanks for that, by the way.” Cara Dune nodded.
“Is that being sarcastic or…?” Aura questioned.
It was decided that differences would be settled over spatchka and apparently, soup, but as Cara told her story of where she had been, Aura’s eyes were set on the child who seemed equally as intrigued. There was a blockage, perhaps within herself, that made it difficult to understand why this child was so familiar.
“How did you end up here?” the Mandalorian asked.
“An early retirement. But this one on the other hand was on a search.” she nodded towards Aura, who’s head popped up.
“Me?” Aura asked, almost forgetting where she was, glancing between the Mandalorian and Cara. “Um, yes. I have been looking for Mandalorian’s. My mother lived on Mandalore and when you walked in the door… I just knew you weren’t them so I was a little disappointed if you couldn’t tell.”
Aura instantly became flustered from her urgency to provide a very, very, very simplified story that wasn’t necessarily a lie but a galaxy away from the truth.
“You had a hard hit; I will give you that.” The Mandalorian said flatly, making her wonder if he was trying to make a joke or not. “I’m with the Guild.”
Aura was curious as to where this man was from and how he was in the hands of a very, very young youngling. But she was not so easily willing to explain her life and who she was looking for to someone who wouldn’t give much in response either by the looks of it. At this rate, Aura was only interested in packing up and moving along, even with the adorable glossy eyes of the curious youngling bore into hers.
There was a foggy past, or perhaps it was her own fog, but he was scared and comfortable all at once.
“Well I have no idea what that is other than it wasn’t what I’m looking for.” Aura sighed.
“In all honesty, I knew you were Guild so when she was willing to let her tantrum out on you, I assumed you had a fob on me so she would have done the job.”
“Makes a little more sense now.”
Aura was still new to the Outer Rim function. The last time she was here she had kicked a bounty hunter into a pit in the sand where a creature presumably ate him. As she was busy playing catch up, she noticed Cara was getting ready to leave.
“This has been fun. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you were looking for. But unless you wanna go another round with me, the rest of you gotta find another planet to mooch off of.” said Cara, finishing her drink before walking way.
Aura felt utterly defeated, staring at her drink, weighing the curiosity of searching more or the curiosity of this Mandalorian before her.
“Well, looks like this planet’s taken.” he said to the child, standing up from his seat.
“Wait.” Aura blurted out, looking up at the Mandalorian as he stood up from his seat. “Let me at least walk you back to your ship, if you’re not to upset about me beating you up earlier.”
In what sounded like a very brief and humorless laugh, the Mandalorian damn near scoffed at her.
“It’s a long walk.” The Mandalorian shrugged. “ But if it’s all the same to you, it was a fair fight that would have ended much quicker without your element of surprise.” he said, scooping up the child as he walked away.
Aura felt a smile spread on her lips and she quickly followed after the pair on the way out of the cantina. It wasn’t what she was looking for, but it was certainly more than she bargained for and possibly a step in the right direction. What were the odds of this happening?
Once out in forest where a long dirt path stretched into the horizon, Aura felt a sense of calmness watching down on it from the towering trees, peaking through the leaves with every summer breeze. All forms of nature made her closer to the Force, even if it was still barely there anymore within her. Deserts, on the other hand, were exempt from any comfort of hers. It had been so long since she truly used the Force though and there were only so many things that made her feel whole while it was all wonky on her.
“So, is the Guild a group of bounty hunters? I knew a bounty hunter what that kind of armor once, which is why I didn’t expect much of you when you walked in.”
“Yes.” he dryly replied. “I don’t know much of Mandalore. I was never raised there, only on Nevarro with the Guild.”
Slowly nodding, Aura glanced down at the child who was staring up at her the entire time they walked, almost making her quite uncomfortable. Did it sense she was Jedi? Did Master Yoda have a child no one ever knew about? But then, at the realization that this man was a bounty hunter, she actually grew concerned for the child.
“This little guy doesn’t happen to be one of your bounty’s, does he?” Aura asked cautiously, eyes widening slightly.
“He was.” the Mandalorian sighed, seemingly impatient. “He was meant to be delivered but it didn’t quite work out.”
Aura had her suspicions, but they were good ones now, getting the impression that this Mandalorian perhaps didn’t want to give up this adorable child. However, she had a feeling he didn’t quite understand his value, but at least it explained why the child was comfortable as well as fearful.
“The woman back there thanked you for the mess on Endor. What did she mean?”
“Oh, I was apart of the Rebel Alliance. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Aura said warily.
It was by some miracle that this Mandalorian did not recognize her, let alone recognize her identity as one of the Jedi. Was the Outer Rim truly so distant from the rest of the galaxy? Aura almost felt saved by this though, not wanting to reveal anything of her history anyway. It was known that Mandalorian and Jedi never bonded well, not to mention, her lineage was valuable and was sure there must have been a few bounties on her own head once.
“I never meddled with that end of the galaxy. But yes, I’ve heard of the rebel alliance. I would commend you, but the New Republic hasn’t been very friendly with the Outer Rim.”
Aura sighed. “I noticed. Shortly before I left on my endeavors, I had a position in the politics of it all. Forming a new government after everything that happened seemed promising but in fact, there are some things that never change with governing authorities.”
“Sounds like you have a pretty good understanding of how that all works. You just gave that all up for what? To find your family?”
There was a hint of accusation to his tone, one that Aura was offended by slightly until she realized how she must have sounded.
“I’m not a spy lingering the Outer Rim to figure out where the New Republic can settle, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Aura chuckled. “I long since despised politics. I’m essentially an orphan. I figured the best way to spend my time was to finally chase after my birth right. But Mandalore mine as well be nonexistent and I’m learning that whatever family I have left mine as well be too.” Aura rambled.
As the Mandalorian absorbed it all, Aura felt guilty for speaking so quickly and on edge. It was stressful trying to blur out certain aspects of her life. She wasn’t necessarily lying, but she certainly wasn’t revealing much.
The trees spaced out to a clearing where a ship sat and the silver bullet it was reflected the setting suns rays that peaked across the horizon, creating a shimmering glow that weaved in and out of the trees. Every sunset was different on every planet, but this felt so simple and serene.
“I assume your ship was on the other side of the village?”
Aura shrugged. “I hitched a ride here back from Tatooine. I was going to head to the cantina to find a ride to next location, but at this rate, I may head home.”
Even as she faced the Mandalorian, her eyes were pulled by the sight of the child who held his arms up towards her. Her lips parted ever so slightly, heart melting a little at the sound of its coos and urgency to be picked up and held. Something within her though mirrored the urgency and with a warming smile, she kneeled down to pick the little one up.
“We leave in the morning. I need to keep a low profile so I can’t provide any transportation but for the night you’re welcome to stay.” the Mandalorian offered, eyeing the way Aura held the child with ease.
Aura looked at him with surprise.
“I don’t want to be a bother. After all, not even hours ago we were all at each other’s necks. I don’t want you to feel obligated to trust a stranger all because she kicked your—” Aura pursed her lips, shaking her head as she realized a little one was in her arm, chuckling as she handed him off to the Mandalorian.
“Just say thank you and call it a day.” he said, taking the little one with an uncertainty to his movement.
Aura’s eyes narrowed playfully.
“I’ll call it a day after I show you how to handle a youngling like it’s not about to explode.” she grinned.
The Mandalorian watched her walk by, dropping her sack of belongings on the ground before returning his gaze to the child. It blew his mind how easily she handled him, but there had been a million other things running through his mind now, making it impossible for him to be at any type of ease no matter how much it seemed Aura was going to torment him about it.
Sighing heavily, the Mandalorian placed the child down and walked towards the ship where he would prepare for the evening ahead.
With the night came the echoing calls of creatures that made the goosebumps on Aura’s skin rise.
Darkness surrounded them, the under lights of the Mandalorian’s ship basking them with an artificial white glow, but Aura could feel the nature around them even while it was hidden and didn’t feel entirely too fearful of what was lurking. Down to the damp soil and up to the leaves that touched the sky, Aura could sense what was around her as she zoned in on the small fire burning before her.
That focus was hindered though as the Mandalorian made a few repairs underneath one of the wings, and the clinking of tools distracted her.
It was mostly silent, but comfortable, as they enjoyed a small dinner among themselves over the fire that Aura had retrieved from the cantina earlier. He didn’t have much to say, but Aura was dying to know more about him despite everything inside her not wanting to care.
As the Mandalorian kept to himself though, Aura quickly bonded with the child. She sensed the Force within him no doubt but she never had quite enough training to even know how to handle it.
“Do you mind trying to get him to sleep?” the Mandalorian asked, his voice sincere but still masked with the abrasiveness of his helmet.
Aura shrugged. “Sure. Where do you usually put him?”
“Just inside, you will see it.”
Aura nodded, scooping up the little one who yawned, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at him.
The hatch opened with a hiss, filling the air around her with cool steam, followed by the sound of a faint cranking sound.
It was surreal to be in this scenario, putting a child to sleep in the ship of a bounty hunter who had nearly blew her head off earlier but she was now nearly playing house with. Eventually, nice gestures had to cancel each other out though. Upon walking up the ramp into the ship, she stared in awe at the weaponry and cargo he held.
“Now, where is your bed…” she trailed off, twirling around.
At the sight of a silver bullet of a cradle, Aura found there to be blankets inside and smiled, placing the child down in the dent in which his body had previously made.
“There you go little one.”
The child’s big green ears almost moved with curiosity as she backed away. She was in awe, curious of whether or not Master Yoda was once young like this. That was forever ago though and while her many questions would go unanswered, she was caught in the moment of staring at the adorable child without a care in the world. It looked so tired yet so calm, and as its blinks grew slower, Aura quietly slipped from the ship.
“Excuse me.” a gentle voice quietly called.
Aura’s eyes narrowed, watching two young raggedy gentlemen approach with a lantern.
“Excuse me, sir!” a more shrill man’s voice followed.
Aura approached them as the Mandalorian impatiently drew himself from his work, the beskar even more intimidating under the night sky.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Even she was astonished by his coldness when she witnessed such unhinged compassion with the child, even despite its awkwardness. But Aura came into their line of site and they no longer warily eyed up the Mandalorian, but jumped towards her with more desperation.
“Uh, yes! Raiders.” the first man said.
“We have money!” the one with the lantern added.
“So you think I’m some kind of mercenary?” the Mandalorian retorted without sparing them a glance.
They looked almost frazzled by his response, looking at him then back to her, but Aura shrugged.
“He’s the boss here, not me.” She whispered.
“Well, you are a Mandalorian, right?” the first man asked, glancing at his friend with confusion. “Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That is Mandalorian armor, right?”
Aura was beginning to realize everyone had different perceptions on what a Mandalorian actually was because the man she was looking at wasn’t truly one in her eyes. He was something else at least, someone who deserved a little more credit than she was giving. Yet, she still scoffed at the young men before her as they enlightened her just a bit and she received a glance from the Mandalorian that made her face go blank.
Even with a helmet on, he conveyed such emotion.
Clearly, he was displeased with the things she found humor in.
“It is.” the Mandalorian responded flatly, looking away from her as he turned to walk away from his work to go on the other side of it.
“See? I told him!” the man with a more shrill voice gasped as he followed. “Sir, I’ve read a lot about your people…” he stammered. “Tribe, I mean. If half of what I read is true–!”
“We have money.” the other man interjected.
Aura was curious to know what they’ve read. Were they as ruthless as what this bounty hunter represented? Her father always told her they were peaceful people, however, some did not agree, which is what caused such a problem on that planet.
“How much?” the Mandalorian asked.
Aura was fuming on the inside the more she let her thoughts run, and her eyes were like daggers at the necks of the two men before her.
“Everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen. We’re krill farmers.”
“We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in.”
The Mandalorian turned around to stare at them. “It’s not enough.”
Then, he walked away again. Aura crossed her arms, feeling sympathy for these men who were truly begging at this rate. She cast the Mandalorian a glance, wanting to urge him to help, for if not, she would but she couldn’t be sure if he even noticed her behind the helmet.
“Are you sure? You don’t evenk now what the job is!” the man pleaded, following on his tail.
“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.”
“Come on, Mandalorian.” Aura teased, watching him pass her as well.
“This is everything we have. We’ll give you more after the next harvest!’
However, when the Mandalorian ignored all of their attempts at this rate, he still walked up the ramp and Aura couldn’t help but pity them. She may not have been at her tip top shape, but she had nothing else to lose by staying here since she was stuck for a while anyways and considered offering her help.
“Come on, let’s head back.” the more conserved man said, finally giving up as the defeat sunk his shoulders. “Took us the whole day to get here. Now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere!”
Just as Aura stepped forward, crying out “wait!”, another voice had fell into sync with hers, and she watched with curiosity as the Mandalorian had also turned back around.
For a moment, she stared at him mid step, her face scrunched up with confusion.
“I will help you.” Aura said unsurely, still thrown by what had happened as she finished stepping towards them.
Their eyes were filled with hope once more, but they still looked towards the Mandalorian who looked just as caught off guard as she did.
“Where do you live?”
“On a farm. Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.” the man replied.
Aura grinned. “He seems to be a little hard of hearing with that thick helmet of his.”
“In the middle of nowhere?” the Mandalorian asked, his head turning towards her for a brief moment.
“Yes.”
“You have lodging?”
Aura groaned out loud, huffing as she threw her arms in the air.
“Oh, stars! Are you going to help me help them or what?” Aura cried, growing impatient of the useless build up to an answer.
The young men were already on their toes, unable to hold their excitement as they stared at her and then up the ramp at the Mandalorian who nodded.
“Get up here and help.”
Aura smiled. Whatever these men implied about the Mandalorian’s had bugged her, but in this moment as she stared at the Mandalorian before her, she was starting to hope that those assumptions weren’t all so violent at least.
As Aura helped pack the small hover craft with some of their belongings, the Mandalorian took the credits to recruit Cara. It was an all hands on deck situation and she was relieved to see the woman return again. They all piled onto the small craft, the child sitting between Aura and the Mandalorian with Cara across from them, their legs stretched out in front of them with the lantern above their heads casting a faint, hazy warm glow.
Aura was exhausted to say the least, her cloak wrapped around her shoulders and sack behind her back to keep her comfortable. It seemed the child enjoyed the cloak yet found itself laying on the Mandalorian’s thigh. It was colder at night so it made sense to bundle up.
“So, we’re basically running off a band of Raiders for lunch money?” Cara asked.
“They’re quartering us in the middle of nowhere. Last I checked that’s a pretty square deal for somebody in your position.” He swiftly replied.
Cara’s eyes averted to Aura who shrugged. “Let’s be honest, I just happened to offer my help instead before he even considered it. He didn’t care until they said it was in the middle of nowhere.”
The Mandalorian glanced at her again, a look she’s received several times tonight and if only she could see what face he was making at her, she was sure it was the same one he’s made each time.
“Worst case scenario, you turn up your blaster. Best case, we’re a deterrent.” The Mandalorian answered. “I can’t imagine there’s anything living in these trees that an ex-shock trooper and ex-rebel couldn’t handle.”
Aura had to grin at that and as the Mandalorian leaned back, Cara shared that knowing grin as well. Little did the Mandalorian know, Aura was much more capable than that, however, she would never let it on for it would be too dangerous. But as her culture came to mind, Aura was curious to know what these men who had sought them out were thinking earlier when they mentioned Mandalorians.
“Hey, you! The man with the panicky voice!” Aura gently called, drawing the attention from the younger man with the curly hair peaking out from his hat.
“Yes, ma’am?” he quickly asked, proving her claim.
Aura sighed. “What exactly do you know about Mandalorians? What makes you think they’re all these victorious bounty hunters?”
The Mandalorian in question lifted his head, glancing at Aura who’s sheer curiosity was only a disguise to a fire in her blue eyes. He didn’t have to take his helmet off to see that whatever they had said earlier clearly ticked something in her.
The young man started stumbling over little readings from his books.
“There’s so many stories of them, I couldn’t even begin on where to start.”
Aura chuckled, nodding. Of course, the Guild or whatever it was that the Mandalorian worked for had come from a group of them that created this narrative. It wasn’t a false one, perhaps just a different one.
“I know a place you could start.” Aura said. “For every Mandalorian story you hear that incites violence, mercenaries, and ruthlessness you should know that Mandalore was once a planet of peace and neutrality before that same mentality ruined it and ruined my mother.”
The young men looked mortified, ready to scramble for an apology and the Mandalorian himself was lost as he tried to gather where this was all coming from.
“You don’t need to apologize. It isn’t your fault our part of history was wiped out from anyone’s knowledge. There wasn’t much left of it to go on anyway.”
Aura didn’t remember much of her mother at this point in her life, but as she sunk back into a comfortable position, taking a deep breath to expel the energy that left her so riled up with discomfort, she played the memories she did have once more. It wasn’t so saddening anymore, but rather, comforting in times like these.
“How did you know all of that?” the Mandalorian asked.
It took her a moment to even fathom an answer, blankly staring up at the starry night sky that peaked out from the silhouette of the peaks of the trees.
“My mother was the Queen of Mandalore. Not that it mattered much to anyone else anyway.” she exhaled with a shrug.
Silence filled the air with a tension so thick that not even the creatures of the night made a sound. As she closed her eyes though, the surrounding air was soothing as she found those very little sounds once more.
The Mandalorian laid back in awe, unsure of what to say or do as he looked at Cara then back at her. It seemed that Cara knew this already, shrugging it off just as Aura easily did. How could something just be blurted out that way? The Mandalorian was never one for sentiment, and he sensed Aura hardly was either, but that felt more intense than most secrets often kept.
“I could feel your pity from here.” Aura grinned, her eyes shut as she spoke. “I was only ten years old and I barely spent time with her anyway, I am a grown woman now. There’s no need to sympathize.”
“Fair enough.” said the Mandalorian.
“I will drink to that the second we’re off this thing.” Cara agreed.
Then, the three of them dozed off on the soothing ride through the night. The Child snuggled between Aura and the Mandalorian, and at some point, Cara’s legs ended up on top of Aura’s. It was the first time in a while Aura fell asleep with some assurance that her life wasn’t entirely too screwed up.
Aura didn’t think she was particularly tired to the extent that she’d sleep through the entire journey.
But when the craft stopped, she was jolted awake by the sound of children, and before she knew it, it was daylight and her eyes were painfully adjusting to the settlement they arrived to. Around her, Cara and the Mandalorian sprung up in a defensive position while she sluggishly took her time to stretch. At her side, the child watched the onslaught of other children giggling and running up to them.
Their noise was like a painful ring to her ears but granted, she had just woken up.
“Well, looks like they’re happy to see us.” The Mandalorian said.
Aura chuckled at him. “Us? I think they’re more excited about the little one.”
They began to unpack their baggage, but it was mostly the Mandalorian’s, and in the meantime, she was in awe at the beauty of the place. In this massive clearing bordered by the trees, symmetrical krill ponds bordered the homes that looked like tiny little raindrops themselves. Everyone who approached them wore a smile, as well as clothes with earthy tones that nearly made them blend in.
Aura felt out of place in her attire that could be matched with the sand. It bewildered her how everyone’s clothing truly reflected their home.
The villagers guided them past the pond to their homes where Aura was then brought to her own little cottage with Cara and the Mandalorian.
“I’ll sleep outside.” Aura offered aloud, unsure of who would even respond.
“Have you suddenly become a pet?” Cara snickered. “We’re here to help these people, we’re allowed to live in comfort.”
Aura rolled her eyes. “I know.” she sighed.
Personally, Aura felt it was unfair that they were being treated so kindly for such a minor problem. But nonetheless, she followed to the small quaint home that was directly across from where the Mandalorian was placed. She glanced at him as a woman from the village greeted him, catching the eyes of the child who stared back at Aura over his shoulder.
When she smiled and waved though, the Mandalorian had just begin to disappear into the home and she frowned slightly.
Aura and Cara entered the new home carved of local wood and was fairly cleared up with exception of two beds; one on the ground floor and the next on a loft that felt more like a bunk bed.
“I got bottom.” Cara said, tossing her bag on the bed’s faded beige sheets.
Aura rolled her eyes. “Fair enough.”
Aura didn’t bother climbing up the ladder that was roughly her height, and tossed her own bag as well as her cloak up on the bed. She looked around, wondering who else had lived here, sensing it was empty for some time and merely just storage. But right through the straw doorway of this place, she could see right through the doorway of the Mandalorian’s just a few yards away, where a woman and her child seemed to give up their space for him.
“You know, I never realized how much of a Jedi you really look like. It’s like you don’t even try to cover it!” Cara chuckled.
Aura glanced back and narrowed her eyes.
“Okay and…” Aura stammered, scoffing as she did. “You obviously look like a, uh, shock trooper. We get it, you have muscles!”
The girls laughed it off and Aura felt a little lighter knowing she had a companion that was able to make this all feel a little like home.
Cara unpacked her things, mainly weapons, and shook her head.
“Whatever. Just keep making lovey dovey eyes at Mando and we’ll do all the work with my muscles and whatnot.”
“I am not!” Aura snapped, her voice shooting up into the quiet atmosphere that surrounded them. “There is no lovey eyes to be made at a man who is the embodiment of a tin can, figuratively and literally!”
Flushed, Aura looked away from Cara’s laughter and went outside to their tiny little porch. Perhaps if the Mandalorian ever took his helmet off she would have insight into his personality, but it was hard to read him, and no mind of a Jedi could ever break it probably. She leaned against the wooden railing, eyeing up the village.
Maybe she did stand out a little too much, not that it mattered considering they were in the middle of nowhere.
But as she looked down at her tones of grey and beige and brown, Aura was thinking of picking up some new attire before she went on her way.
“I’m hungry. I’m going to go look for some lunch.” Cara announced, passing by her and heading out into the village.
“Have fun.” Aura said, despite Cara being out of sight.
When Aura looked back up, she saw the woman returning to the Mandalorian with a tray of food and rolled her eyes. She was only a little hungry, but was only a little bitter no one had brought them anything and decided to catch up with Cara to grab a bite to eat. To no avail, the village only had some form of krill and grains.
Many people approached them with offerings, but Aura insisted she didn’t take any. Instead, she was more than happy to talk to them and answer any of their questions. Cara, on the other hand, was quite taken with the gifts they offered. While Cara enjoyed that though and she noticed that the child was playing with the other kids, she ventured off towards their little cottages but to the Mandalorian’s in particular.
Of course, he had been attending to his various weapons.
“Am I interrupting?” Aura asked, the early afternoon sun peaking through the small window of the home and enlightening part of his armor as he turned around.
“Not much to interrupt.”
“Well, on the contrary, you seemed quite invested in a conversation with your dinner and that woman earlier so I didn’t want to bother.” Aura shrugged, her words playing with a sarcastic tone that had also been masking her bluntness.
Even when he didn’t reply, she sighed and pressed on.
“So how do you eat? Does your Mandalorian helmet have an upgrade where it just opens up at your mouth?”
The Mandalorian sighed, turning to face her with a frown underneath but his stance conveyed it all as she casually leaned upon the doorframe.
It’s not that he was angry with her, but rather, tired of the questions when he had plenty of his own. Ever since last night when she claimed her mother was the queen of the Mandalorian’s, he had been dying to know more, but didn’t want to pry. Wherever she came from or whatever part of the Mandalorian’s she grew up with, they were not true.
It was intimidating though to say the least with the shakiness of the ground between them.
Aura was friendly and genuine, yet threatening all at once.
“I take it off when I eat. It is not that difficult to understand.”
Aura’s eyes narrowed. “Just not in front of anyone else?”
“This is the way.”
Something clicked in her mind, something familiar. She remembered hearing stories over the years of Mandalorian’s who lived this way and she never heard much of it elsewhere, but it was valid nonetheless, which explained a lot.
But still, Aura wanted more of an answer.
“Fair enough. I take it, not even with another Mandalorian by blood?”
She was eager to see his face, and unsure of why she wanted to, she didn’t care to press on and distract him from organizing and cleaning his weapons.
It did seem quite obvious he was growing tired of it though.
“How was your mother queen of the Mandalorian’s and yet, you’re so different…” he trailed off, his helmet tilting slightly.
Aura took a deep, exasperated, breath. “I might have to ask you the same thing. Just put yourself in my shoes and understand how I may want to know that why my mother, who never adorned such armor was the Queen of the race you claim, yet you share none of the values she had.”
At his silence, Aura stepped forward into the home and away from the doorway, brows furrowing slightly.
“I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, I just want you to understand that we are two sides to the same coin and there is no need to delegitimize the other.”
Aura couldn’t deny that with every word she spoke, that the Mandalorian sunk within his own armor, and she couldn’t force her little grin away. As intimidating as she may be, she meant every word she meant with as much kindness as possible. It surely was frustrating at first meeting someone who turned her entire ideology upside down, but it seemed they were both missing something. Perhaps that was the Jedi in her giving her the rational thought.
“Then help me understand.” The Mandalorian said, his voice low.
“Hey, you guys ready to scope out the perimeter?” Cara asked, her booming voice cutting through the air that had grown thick between them.
Aura nearly jolted, but the Mandalorian not so casually returned to his fixation with his weapons. She pursed her lips, smiling back towards Cara and nodding, despite the awkwardness that remained from the unfinished conversation.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
Cara’s face scrunched with confusion, but she brushed it off.
Aura glanced back at the Mandalorian before walking out, hoping she didn’t scare him off too much.
The villagers who had witnessed these attacks the most gave the three of them an idea of where the marauders came from, and that is exactly where they set off to, leaving the peaceful clearing and heading into the thick of the forest. Aura followed behind the Mandalorian with Cara as he used the tech within his helmet to analyze any suspecting footprints for some time.
“About fifteen or twenty of them came through here on foot.” the Mandalorian said as he came to a stop.
Aura eyed them, making sure they were not paying attention as she kneeled to the ground, placing her fingertips gently on the soil they walked on.
“And something big, sheared off those branches.”
Shutting her eyes, she saw the gnarled faces of monstrous yet small creatures who barged through with their ancient weapons. They were big bullies with nothing but their bigness. But at mention of big from the Mandalorian, her vision got darker, a mechanical whirring in the back of her mind.
She could nearly feel the stomping foot of the machinery as she sifted through the ground.
“Just ahead.” she gently blurted out, her eyes still shut as she envisioned the footprint.
Aura quickly shot up, shaking the dirt from her fingertips as Cara and the Mandalorian glanced back at her before taking off ahead.
When Aura caught up with them, her eyes fell on a disappointing sight. As her vision had built up her conclusion on what these marauder’s had up their sleeves, it was confirmed at the sight of the AT-ST’s print.
“I’ve only seen AT-AT’s. But these are still dangerous.” Aura sighed.
“What’s an Imperial walker doing here?” the Mandalorian questioned.
Aura couldn’t even fathom how it ended up in the hands of simple minded creatures, but it was effective and threatening and winning.
“I don’t know. But this is more than what I signed up for.” Cara said with dismay.
When they returned to the village, Aura was weighed down with the disappointment of what they had come across. They decided that the Mandalorian would speak to the village of what they thought was the right plan and while it went unspoken, the three of them nodded in agreement.
“Bad news.” the Mandalorian spoke, facing the crowd that gathered before the small porch. “You can’t live here anymore.”
Aura’s head whipped towards him.
“I didn’t realize that’s what we agreed on!” she hissed.
“Nice bedside manner.” Cara muttered out the corner of her mouth.
Aura glanced back at the crowd of all those who voiced their confusion.
“Oh, so either of you can do better?”
Aura nodded at Cara.
“I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.” Cara announced, stepping forward as she stepped back with the Mandalorian.
“You took the job!” the man who first approached them called out, earning the agreeance of several others.
Aura sighed, looking down at her crossed arms. It wasn’t right to leave these people, no matter how useless the three of them felt against a droid of this magnitude. They still needed to do something.
“That was before we knew about the AT-ST.” Cara quickly replied.
“What is that?” he questioned.
Aura uncrossed her arms and took a step forward.
“It’s a walker that towers the trees, with two enormous guns that isn’t very difficult to miss.” she said, staring at all of the looks on their faces as they suddenly no longer looked to be on the defensive side. “And something tells me, you left that part out when you asked for our help.”
No matter what though, Aura watched as they all begged, clutching each other and staring up at them with their tear filled eyes.
Sighing, Aura spun on her heels to turn towards Cara who looked equally as stranded.
“Please, we have nowhere to go.” said Omera, as she held her daughter.
Cara shrugged. “Sure you do. This is a big planet. I mean I’ve been on smaller.”
Aura nodded towards her in agreeance, trying to encourage the others to think the same.
“Our grandparents seeded these ponds. It took generations!” another man argued.
Aura frowned, but tried to hide it from the others.
“I understand. I do. But the three of us can only do so much when it comes to the marauders as well as a gigantic bot like this one.” Aura said, raising her voice above the chatter building up.
“There’s at least 20 of us here to help!” the man cried.
Cara laughed to her surprise. “I mean fighters! Be realistic.”
The crowd bickered with Cara, and she gave it right back, but understandably so. Everything she said was right and despite how much Aura didn’t want to admit it, the three of them were better off helping these people relocate.
“We’re not leaving.” Omara said defiantly.
“You all can’t fight that thing.” Cara argued.
Aura took a deep breath, trying to compose herself between the small chaos that erupted.
“Unless we show them how.” the Mandalorian chimed in.
Aura’s head whipped towards him, and she turned to face him with her hands on her hips, her eyes flaring with anger.
“Oh, so the pretty little village widow bats her eyes at you and now you’re ready to help these people?!” she whispered harshly.
Cara was glaring at the Mandalorian in support, because now, the entire crowd was begging to be taught. But even as the two of them stared the man down, all he could do was shrug. If she was going to trust him eventually, Aura took a deep breath and realized she was going to have to trust this judgement call.
Teaching was not on Aura’s list of things she was great at.
Providing a solid plan to the villagers of how this evening would go was one thing she could do though.
Being taught was something she always struggled with, having so many things in her life juggled around like nothing, and there was no stability when it came to learning or teaching. It didn’t help that her combat skills were much more graceful than that of Cara and the Mandalorian’s, but she wasn’t going to sit here and read to everyone about the Force she could barely use either.
Eventually, she put her labor into preparing for the plan of attack, especially after watching the Mandalorian dance around Omera.
There was no reason to be as annoyed as she was considering she hardly knew this tin can of a human. But it seemed that for someone who showed as much emotion as the dirt they stood on, she wasn’t expecting him to be so moved by one person.
As the night drew nearer, Aura was not particularly comfortable with how this would all pan out. She could only hope that this would be a small feat with the plan they came up with and the extra hands they’ve now gained. Aura double checked the barricades and the trap, ensuring everything was in place as it should be, but the last important thing she wanted to do was check on the youngling.
Back in the Mandalorian’s temporary home, she found herself among a bustling village of people preparing for a battle that some of them have never even dreamt of. It was minor for Aura and people like Cara, but major for them.
Aura kneeled before a makeshift cradle for the little one, his green head and big pointy ears peaking out from above it, a smile growing on her face as it made a happy sound.
“I’m going to need you to follow your bedtime schedule tonight, alright? All the adults are going to kick some mech butt so you’re going to hear a lot of noise, but don’t be scared, alright?”
It wasn’t meant to be sentimental, and simply more of a joke to ease her own nerves, and just ensure he was safe before taking off. But for a moment, she young again. For a split second she was in the Jedi temple, alone and afraid again, waiting for those words of comfort to come.
But as far as she was concerned, this child would not have to know her fear or questioning.
“Aura.”
Quickly, she sprung up from the bedside of the child, turning to face the Mandalorian at the doorway.
“Right. I was just checking on him making sure he was safe and sound before all the noise started.” she quickly said.
The Mandalorian nodded.
“I was about to do the same. The kid will be fine though as long he sits still and doesn’t venture out of the place.” he said lightheartedly.
Aura smiled and nodded in response. “I assume you and Cara are heading out now?”
“Yes. I just need you to keep an eye on everyone else, make sure they’re in position and know what to do. It’s getting dark so we’ll be returning as quickly as possible.”
“Got it, Mando.” Aura exhaled, straightening her posture a bit to show she was ready.
“Glad I made that judgement call earlier?” he asked, a hint of snarkiness in that masked voice, as she passed by him.
Aura glanced back.
“If you ever put me in a position where I’m forced to trust you like that again, I will bash the part of the helmet you wear that allows you to speak clearly.” she grinned.
Underneath of said helmet, the Mandalorian’s lips mirrored hers.
Flaming torches and the moonlight were their guidance.
The villagers lined up behind the barricades, broken down to who had what weapon and put in different lines of defense. In front of it all, Aura stood before the trap that was put in place, awaiting to hear the sounds of the AT-ST.
Her foot tapped against the grass until she could find a rhythm where she could breathe with ease, and while it took a moment, Aura was one with the Force and ready for battle.
It helped to think that her family was smiling behind her, giving her a gentle push into a messy fight whether it be literal or figurative. Right now, it was truly going to be a messy fight and she knew that at the first sounds of a massive blaster shot that rumbled the ground.
Aura glanced back to see the glossy eyes upon worried faces as heavier footsteps neared in..
“Alright everyone, they’re coming which means this thing isn’t too far behind!”
Through the eerie fog that rolled over, two figures came running through and straight towards her. She backed into the ditch with them sliding in beside her, catching their breaths.
“This is it! Once that thing steps into the pond, it’s going down!” Cara announced.
Aura glanced at the Mandalorian who’s shoulders were moving with every heavy breath he took.
“Ready?” he asked.
The footsteps grew heavier against her ears, and she could see the mechs red eyes peaking through the treetops.
“Of course.” She shrugged.
Then suddenly, it broke through, and Aura eagerly held her breath as her wide eyes watched it come nearer to the trap. But when it stopped just a smidge before it, she tensed up and had let her breath out.
“It stopped?”
As if that wasn’t alarming enough, the AT-ST’s bright light poured over the entire village and everyone fell behind the cover.
“Get down!” the Mandalorian ushered, nearly dragging Aura down with him at his side.
As she glanced around though, hearing the mechanical whirring of the creature, her heart ached with the notion that this AT-ST already knew what was going on. It’s blaster shot over their heads and before anyone could register, the chants of the marauders’ came echoing in.
Cara barked out orders, but in the meantime, Aura leaped over the edge,
“Aura, what are you doing?!” he called out.
“Get that thing in the trap! I’m helping the others!” she called back.
A battle of blasters and ancient weapons clashed, red blasts firing back and forth against the battlefield. Her senses were tuned up, and she calculated every step as she ran through, pulling out her own two blasters at her hips and aiding the villagers as much as she could, giving them cover and time to recuperate.
The marauders snarled faces were coming up at every turn.
Most of them needed her help, and under the light of nothing but the torches and the moon, it was quite difficult to keep herself spinning in circles. To her surprise, Omera had it covered for a decent amount of the villagers who had rushed out from the barricades. Catching her breath, Aura moved closer towards the AT-ST, covering for Cara who was pinned a few yards a head of it, trying to lure it into the trap.
It was almost there, nearly about to stumble, and a smile was beaming on her face when it finally stumbled in.
“Yes!” Aura cried.
In what felt like forever of covering the villagers and fending off marauders, it only took several minutes to get the AT-ST in the trap.
The Mandalorian followed up with a miniature bomb of sorts, running towards it and retreating into the pond with Cara to be protected from the explosion. Aura felt the heat of the melting metal, watching as the marauders’ began their retreat.
However, out the corner of her eye, once had remained and she sensed it before she could it; a giant wooden spear was approaching her. Every nerve in her body froze, her hand reacting before the rest of her could, and when her eyes finally fixated on the pressure of her hand, she realized that the spear never made it towards her, merely stuck in the fearful looking marauders hand.
As the Mandalorian regained in his senses in the pond, the sight of Aura being pursued by one of the creatures alarmed him. But just as he jolted forward, he stopped in awe, watching as Aura stopped its weapon from impaling her without so much as blinking.
Aura’s hand had the marauder locked in place, the wooden spears point just a few feet away from piercing her. She too had been in awe of what she had just done, but it was natural as could be, and she laughed at how terrified the marauder was.
In one swift move, Aura kicked the spear from its hands and took it within her own, swinging the blunt end of it at his head to knock him out.
Catching her breath, she swiped at the sweat on her forward and returned to her path towards Cara and the Mandalorian. But once she turned to face them, she stopped in place once more, realizing that they saw what she just did. Cara, she was not concerned about, but it was the Mandalorian who faced her that made her worry.
“Oh no…” she muttered.
The following days came with no words to be heard from the Mandalorian after what he saw.
Aura was anxiously waiting on the edge, wondering how to approach it. Not that it mattered. She was going to be leaving anyway now that the village was saved and she had no ties left here. Instead of being an adult about it, she silently leaned upon the railing of his porch, while Cara sat in a small rocking chair and he leaned on the doorway.
“Can I set you something to eat?” asked Omera as she stepped through.
Aura bit the inside of her cheek, looking elsewhere.
“No, thank you.” he replied.
“He’s very happy here.”
At that. Aura turned to find her eyes on the child as it sat among the bigger children and she smiled.
“He is.”
Of course, it was not her place, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave the little one.
When Omera finally walked away, Cara glanced up at her with a smirk but Aura merely kicked her foot, rolling her eyes. Aura could care less about Omera, but it wasn’t fair that the Mandalorian said more to her then herself.
“So what happens if you take that thing off?” Cara asked him. “Do they come after you and kill you?”
“I don’t think he likes to be asked that.” Aura muttered.
“No, you just can’t ever put it back on again.” he grimly replied.
Aura shook her head, wondering when they’d ever even finish that conversation let alone start the new one about what he had seen.
“That’s it?” Cara wondered. “So you can slip off the helmet, and settle down with that beautiful young window and raise your kid sitting here sipping spatchka?”
It pained Aura to watch Cara brag on to the Mandalorian about that life, but she knew she was just teasing. What didn’t sit right with her was that he was so dismissive of Aura, yet she felt so connected to him and the child. Instead of moping though, Aura sipped her own spatchka and looked out towards the forest. Her bag was packed, resting at her feet, ready to go and she knew she would be leaving shortly.
“You know, we raised some hell the other week. It’s too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast. We might wanna cycle the charts and move on.” the Mandalorian said.
“Would not wanna be the one who’s gotta tell him.” Cara sighed.
Then, Aura sadly glanced over at the child who was playing with the krill. Over the past few days she had spent with him, more than even the Mandalorian, she certainly felt a bond within it that couldn’t be left alone.
“I’m leaving him here.” the Mandalorian said.
“What?!” Aura exclaimed.
He glanced at her, then back at the kid. “Traveling with me, that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe. Better chance at life.”
Aura was surprised, mainly by the fact that it was the first time he’s looked at her in days and even remotely spoke to her. Well, it was obviously more important to her that he was leaving such a valuable child behind, but he did have a point.
“It’s gonna break his little heart.” Cara said, sipping her spatchka.
Aura looked down at her lap.
“He’ll get over it. We all do.”
For some silly reason though, Aura felt more impacted by him ignoring her than she would of liked. But he was right, people get over these things and no matter how disappointed and heavy she felt to be moving on so quickly from him and Cara, it needed to be done.
When the Mandalorian snuck off and Cara returned to her room, Aura lingered behind for a moment, ensuring they weren’t paying attention to her.
As Aura always did, she moved from planet to planet without so much as a single string left behind so she could keep moving. All she wanted to do was find her family and that’s what she would do. She was sure to run into Cara again, but she couldn’t speak for the Mandalorian. Taking a deep breath, she took one last look at the village before taking off.
Aura wanted to turn back every step, but as she neared the perimeter of the village, something felt off.
It wasn’t the way she wanted to run back, but something else, making her want to edge forward into the shadows of the forest she was stepping into. Shutting her eyes, Aura let her senses carry her, walking on the balls of her feet to not so much as crack a pine needle as she walked, searching for anything that was off.
There was a soft hum, a beeping sound actually, as she grew closer.
Then, before she knew it, Aura spotted a cloaked figure with a rifle in hands, aiming towards the village.
Gasping gently, Aura whipped out her blaster and fired in the blink of an eye, the figures body hitting the ground before she could even take her next breath. Aura dropped her bag and put her blaster away, approaching the cloaked man as smoke rose from the blaster hole in his chest. She peered over, ready to run back to the village to make sure everyone was okay.
But before Aura could even turn to move, the Mandalorian came running through the trees to her.
There was no exchanged of words to no avail, only watching as he nudged over the body to find a tracking fob underneath.
It was the beeping she heard.
When he looked up at her, he paused.
“When did you decide to leave?” the Mandalorian asked.
Aura raised a brow. “When did you decide to care?”
The Mandalorian took a deep breath, looking down at the tracking fob that still blinked.
“They’re tracking the kid. They know he’s here.”
Aura was curious to know what exactly was on this kids head, but whatever it was, she had a vague idea this wouldn’t be the last time someone else tried.
“It seems the kid suddenly needs that life with you.” she offered.
The Mandalorian crushed the tracking fob under his boot and started to walk away. Aura’s heart jumped and she followed after quickly.
“I didn’t want to ask about what I saw that night because I thought that the youngling would not need to be in my care much longer. But he-he did the exact same thing…” the Mandalorian explained, pausing mid step, turning back to face her.
Aura stopped, her face twisting. “What do you mean the kid did exactly what I did?”
“I was about to be trampled by this beast and before I knew it, it was floating in air because that kid did something with his hand, just like you did when you were in danger.”
The way a Mandalorian tried to explain the use of the Force made her smile, almost want to laugh even, but it was clear he was in distress over it. But she couldn’t fathom how a creature so young was that strong already.
“I didn’t want to ask you about it because I didn’t understand it, I didn’t think I would need to understand it if I was leaving it here to hide, but he’s not safe. He’s not going to be.”
Aura stepped forward, watching as the Mandalorian’s head turned, as if looking for an answer somewhere on the ground. She understood now why he was in a predicament but at the same time, still had her frustrations.
“Next time, don’t be an idiot and keep it from me. Talking can usually help.” she ridiculed.
“I don’t even know you.” the Mandalorian accused in a soft tone, walking towards the path again. “How can I speak freely with you when one minute, you’re Mandalorian and the next you have these…powers?”
Aura frowned, trying to catch up with him,.
“Trying to explain these things to you isn’t east when you walk so damn fast! And these powers, they’re not—they don’t just belong to specific people, they can find their way into the souls of many no matter where they’re from. My mother was queen of Mandalore, yes, and she died when I was young, when everything we know of Mandalorian’s changed so my perspective of them if much different than yours.”
The Mandalorian slowed his pace, and Aura was trying to catch her breath now.
“I need to keep him safe.” was all he could say. “I now know why he was so
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Oh man it’s always horny for Din hours on here. Tin can smut is my bedtime story for real. You should see my ao3 history. Thanks for reading and reblogging, Nicole!!!
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Warnings: 18+. Sex pollen. Dub-con due to the sex pollen. Drugging (reader’s drink gets spiked). Protective and pissed off Din. Slight gore. Dead bodies. Fingering. Unprotected PIV. Outdoor sex.
A/N: I fucked up slightly, this was intended for the Sin series but when I re-checked the ask I realised I’d gone in a totally different direction than the request. I didn’t really want to re-write this so now everyone gets an extra Din fic.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Holy hell this was hot as fuck. The constant low hum of need, the way he just knows, how she takes the chance and leaps.
Excuse me while I go stand out in the rain to cool off after this one.
That photo ooooooomg! It made me cackle and you made me blush!! I hope you at least cuddled up in a towel later so you don’t catch a cold. Thanks for reading and reblogging, Jess!!!
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Rating:Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors this is not the fic for you)
Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fictional wrap it up irl), cum eating, Mando’s manspread is its own warning tbh, attempted assault (grabbing your arm until Mando intervenes), f! masturbation until interrupted how dare, the helmet doesn’t come off until it does, cursing, I think that’s it but as always let me know.
Summary: You realize Mando has a feature in his helmet that lets him see how hot you are at a really inconvenient time. That’s it. That’s the plot.
A/N: Some of you may recognize this as a sneak peek I posted months ago and never posted. So yes, it’s finally here.
Summary: After years of hiding, Din finds his girlfriend on a planet with a child.
Warning: Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 1.8k
a/n:. Requests are open.
Three suns ruled over the land and the clouds in the hues of murky waters had travelled away. Tall trees protected the inconspicuous cottage of light stone. Smoke rose from the chimney, letting the inhabitants of the village know that someone lived in the nondescript building on the outskirts in the far south by the lake of hundreds of waterlilies.
Flowers of various colours grew out of the dark soil, bordered by a holey fence in light tones. The woman, dressed in the long dress in light shades, looked through the tinted window flanked by long curtains and witnessed her daughter sitting under the lonely tree playing with her dolls of straw next to the sandpit. The cake Y/N had baked was on a plate on the round table with two identically looking chairs of wood.
Smiling, the young mother strolled through the kitchen towards the open door leading into the house and leaned against the frame, unable to take her eyes off of her daughter playing in the shade of the tree. Her heart ached, realising her little sunflower had grown fast. She didn’t have to count, had placed six candles on the cake of fresh strawberries and slices of apples. Y/N pushed herself off the wood and stepped into the light of the fading suns.
“Hey my little sunflower.” Y/N breathed.
Laughing, she halted in front of her daughter, playing with the three dolls. The dark brown eyes immediately settled on Y/N and again a dagger pierced through her aching heart, felt how it broke each year a little more. Guilt dripped from her parted lips, but Y/N knew she had done the right thing. No child should be raised in a spaceship, and Y/N knew they would have taken her daughter away the moment she was born. A veil of sadness rested over her features. Tears tried to block her view of her child, but Y/N was proud she had escaped before anyone could find out she was carrying the creation of deep love.
The memories of the early morning when she had disappeared returned and Y/N remembered the moment as if it had happened yesterday. In great haste she had fled, was heading for a planet far away from war, from ships, destruction and hunters trying to kill them all. Sometimes when darkness ruled with iron fist over the fields, Y/N wondered if she had made the right decision, but whenever Y/N looked out the window and saw her daughter playing in the garden with an unmistakable smile on her face, Y/N knew she had done the right thing.
“Mama, don’t cry,” Eloise breathed, thought she understood the sadness in her mother’s gaze.
Gently, the young girl placed her hands on her mother’s cheeks and brushed the hot tears away.
“I don’t mind that you gave me a doll as a present and the cake you baked and the dress you made is wonderful, I’ll show it to my friends’, they’ll surely want you to make them one too.” laughed the girl, wanting to cheer her mother up, thinking she knew the reason for the falling tears.
“I’m not crying because of you, my sunflower. I’m fine. The suns are blinding.” Y/N tried to talk herself out of it, but she couldn’t, couldn’t fool her daughter.
“Come here mum, I don’t mind and I want to eat the cake tonight and later I will read the book and I heard the stars will be out today so we can stay out here in the garden.”, “That’s a beautiful idea and I’m already looking forward to it.” replied Y/N.
The girl with the long dark brown hair rose from the meadow and let go of the dolls reflecting a small perfect family, Y/N couldn’t give her. Spreading her arms, Y/N immediately understood what her daughter desired and embraced the dark-eyed girl, hugging her tightly and pressing her firmly to her chest.
“Mummy?” the girl breathed into her mother’s ear.
Fear was evident in her troubled voice.
“Is everything alright?”, “I’m scared, mum, there’s a strange-looking man. He is looking at me and you.” Eloise stammered.
Suddenly Y/N´s eyes widened. Swiftly she turned and then gulped. The suns were no longer blinding, clouded by a dense layer of wandering clouds yet she shielded her eyes with her right hand, thought her eyes were fooling her. Y/N would recognise him clad in heavy armour among billions. Her heart stopped beating. The cloak was long, swayed back and forth in the rising breeze. Y/N’s fingers clawed into the flowing material of the dress of her daughter, forcing her to stay behind her, trying to protect her with her body, would protect her with her life.
“Don’t be afraid my sunflower, stay behind me.” Y/N demanded in a stern tone.
Y/N knew there was no point in leaving, to run away.
“Who is that man?” “You don’t have to fear; I will protect you and if he gets too close, then hide in the house. Run away and don’t come out.” Y/N instructed calmly.
“And what about you?”, “Didn’t you hear me?” she said sternly, and Eloise nodded.
His breathing was heavy, recognised the woman he still loved from the depths of his heart. How many years he had spent with searching for Y/N, Din no longer remembered but knew it had to be many, more than five. Anger spread through his chest. Under his mask, he grimaced, had noticed the girl, knew the woman, his wife had found a lover, a new man.
“How can I help you?” Y/N asked unsure what to say.
Y/N tried to be emotionless, didn’t want to show fear and agony, knew she had to be strong but her lower lip betrayed her.
“Why did you leave me?” it escaped him.
Warmth spread through her heart. The last time she had heard his was a long time ago, so long, seeming for forever. The words were harsh and dripping with venom yet there was love lurking in the shadows. Din didn’t want to waste a second with asking useless questions, needed answers as fast as possible.
“I’m sorry.”, “You’re sorry?” he cried.
Y/N flinched, feeling her daughter’s fingers digging harder into the flowing dress.
“I had to Din, I couldn’t stay. I had to leave everything behind.” Y/N tried to reassure him.
“Because of who? How could you do this to me? I love you.”, “You betrayed me!” he screamed from the deepest recesses of his soul.
Sadness was evident in his breaking voice. Threateningly he approached her but Y/N did not flinch, making herself taller, knowing Din had noticed the girl. His senses were clouded and eyes dilated. Darkness rooted in them, dark and dooming. Words dripping with hate, an enchanted potion escaped, but Y/N felt no hate nor fear, had fallen in love with the dark eye’s moons ago, knew he would never hurt her.
“I have wasted years of my life looking for you! I’ve destroyed ships and planets just for you, to find out that you live on a lonely planet and you’ve found a new man. I thought you died.” hatred oozed from his voice.
“I didn’t cheat on you Din. I would never do something like that. Please believe me, I love you, I have always loved you.” Y/N said.
She felt fingers digging into the long dress but suddenly the touch disappeared. Eyes met on a battlefield, he made it impossible to look away. Tears tried to cloud her vision.
“Get away from my mama!” echoed a shaking yet firm voice.
Fists collided with the steel of the armour in dark hues. Small hands tried to push him away, and the man allowed it, looked down and suddenly he saw clearly. The story became clearer.
“Eloise.” she breathed her daughter’s name.
A mask covered his face, but Y/N thought she could see the confusion in the eyes settling on the girl who stood protectively before her mother, arms wide, forbidding him to come closer. Tears adorned her face and her cheeks were painted in a light red tone. Firmly Y/N pressed her daughter tightly against her, hugging and breathing loving words into her ear.
“Everything is all right. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He’s actually a nice man.” Y/N whispered in her ear, reaping the words over and over again.
Dirt covered his dark trousers. His hands slid to the helmet and dropped it to the ground. He couldn’t believe his eyes, thought his helmet made him see other things, but he saw the colour of his eyes, saw the tone of his hair and his tan skin. Closely Din studied the crying girl in the arms of the woman he loved. The next breeze carried away the veil of hate and anger. Din recognised the eyes and noticed Eloise had his nose and hair. A soft smile spread on his lips, found the answer why Y/N had disappeared and realised he was a fool for believing she had left him for another man. His thoughts humoured him. Hesitantly, Din took one step and gathered courage. Pride filled his chest. With long steps, he slowly went towards them, not wanting to frighten the little girl, and dropped to his knees three steps away from them.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, lifting her gaze.
She knew there was no point in hiding the truth behind a layer of twisted tales.
“No, I’m sorry,” Din spoke out.
Love was the only emotion Y/N could see in his eyes. He took off the gloves covering his fingers and let them fall to the ground next to him. The sand was rising with the dust. Slowly Din crawled and halted again as the gazes met and smelled the faint smell of spring lingering in the air. Carefully, his right hand approached her face, wanting to remove the tears he had summoned.
“No, Eloise, you don’t have to be afraid of him. He won’t hurt me.” Y/N said in a loving yet stern.
The little girl listened and nodded, wanted to rise and protect her mother from the touch of the stranger.
“I had to go. I had to leave. Please forgive me.”, “I understand, but I would never have left you alone. The two of you. You should have told me. I would have fled with you if you had told me or I would have made sure they wouldn’t take our child away.” the Mandalorian breathed.
The question didn’t need to escape, had found the answer in her eyes. Smiling, Din faced the young girl, reached out and his heart quickened as his daughter placed her small hand, miniature compared to his, in his palm and Din knew he had found his home.
