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vodika-vibes · 4 months ago

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Me again 😈 this is the last one (for now)

How about Howzer x reader with "sh, sh, I'm going to patch you up."?? I love Howzer so much and virtually no one writes for him </3

Playing Doctor

Summary: In an ideal world, being trapped in a cramped place with Howzer would be a dream come true. After all, you’ve been crushing on him for ages now. You just wish the situation was a little less sucky.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1200

Warnings: Reader is injured, pining, Howzer is jealous but pretends that he isn't

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I couldn't get Howzer to agree with me. Until I put on a Disney playlist on Spotify and the words just started flowing. (Also, I have been in a not-great mental place since the 6th, but I think I'm better-ish now). I hope you like it!

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You’ve known Howzer for years now.

You first met him at the beginning of the Clone Wars, all of those years ago. And, looking back now, you can admit that your first impression of him wasn’t the greatest.

He was arrogant. Cocky, even. And in his opinion, you were a meddling busybody who needed to spend a day or two sitting in a jail cell.

You weren’t, and aren’t, a soldier. You were the former base commander’s receptionist, and when he left for greener pastures, you were left behind with a handful of soldiers and support staff who weren’t important enough to anyone to manage to pull a reassignment.

In truth, you kept the base running through duct tape and a prayer. And then Howzer came along and took it from you.

It wasn’t until he realized that none of the NatBorn soldiers, or support staff, would listen to him, that they all deferred to you, that Howzer realized that he stepped on a few toes.

And he didn’t apologize until your Squad of Misfits pulled him and his men out of an ambush that should have killed them, but only left him badly injured and with a scar on his face.

The rest, as they say, is history.

By the time the Jedi Purge happened, you and Howzer were friends. Friends enough that, when he called you to ask for help, you dropped everything and hurried to his side.

That had been a year ago, and while you won’t ever say that you regret it, you do wish that you had been more clever about your career prospects.

Or, at least, more clever.

Surely, if you had gone to medical school like your mother wanted you wouldn’t be in this situation.

Right?

You release a pained whimper as Howzer presses his hands, firmly, over the wound in your side. You try to pull away from his painful touch, but the way he has you positioned against the wall of the cave you’re taking shelter in means that you can’t move.

“Howzer—”

“I know it hurts, ad’ika.” His voice is low, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a grim look on his face before. Well, not directed towards you, at least, “but I need to stop the bleeding.”

Hesitantly, because he’s been funny about you touching him lately, you wrap your hands around his wrists, “‘m sorry. I messed up.”

“It’s not your fault. Who knew that the Stormtroopers had people who could use fucking javelins. Where are we, the Middle Ages?” He sounds stressed and angry.

“Many Indigenous people use weapons like that,” You reply, “Like the Ewoks and the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine.”

Howzer releases a huffed laugh, “Why do you know that?”

“I saw a documentary about it before,” You admit.

“Yeah? When was this?” He applies more pressure and you whimper as the sudden pain knocks the air out of your lungs, and you see a muscle work in his jaw.

“When I was a kid,” You manage to say, “There used to be a show. Tula the Tooka. Tula would teach kids about different races and show how we’re all the same.”

“Fighting bigotry one little kid at a time?”

“Something like that.” You wince, “She also covered some basic language skills, like how to say hello, or I’m lost, in whatever language.”

“Sounds educational,” Howzer shifts his hand and glances at your side, and then he takes your hand and presses it over the wound, “Apply pressure while I pull out my kit.”

“You could always just leave me here,” You offer.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, I’m not leaving you behind.” Howzer replies as he starts digging through the bag he’s been carrying, “You can’t actually think that I would do that.”

“I don’t.” You admit, “Make your life easier if you were less loyal, though.” You pause, “Idiot.” The word is affectionate, and the corner of Howzer’s lips curl up into a small smile.

“Wonder what having an easy life would be like,” He jokes, before he turns back to you, “Alright, move your hand.” You do as he asks, though you don’t realize why he’s saying that until the sharp scent of alcohol reaches your nose.

You yelp and jerk back when an alcohol-soaked cloth presses against your side. Though, you don’t get far.

“Shh, shh,” he effortlessly tugs you closer, so he can keep the cloth pressed against your side, “I’m going to patch you up.”

“You couldn’t have given me some warning?” You choke out.

“Sorry, ad’ika. But you’re kind of a baby when it comes to pain.”

You stare up at him through tear-filled eyes, “And you thought this would help? You’re a jerk. Rex would never—” You yelp again when his touch gets rough enough that it hurts.

The painful pressure vanishes almost immediately, “Sorry, I’m sorry! I forget that you’re so much more fragile than me.” Howzer blurts as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe a tear from your cheek, “Please don’t cry.”

“I-it’s okay, you didn’t mean it.”

Howzer sighs, “It’s not okay, but thank you.” He pulls some bandages from his bag, “I bet Rex would never forget that.” There’s something odd in his voice, and you realize, with a start, that he’s jealous.

“Howzer?”

“Hm?”

“Are you jealous of Rex?”

He fumbles with the wrapper of the bandage, and his dark eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, before dropping back to your side, “Course not.”

You stare at the top of his head for a moment, and then you sigh and reach up to run your fingers through his hair, “You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“Are you allowed to have favorites?” Howzer asks as he applies the bandage and tapes it to your skin.

“I think you’ll find that I don’t care about what’s allowed,” You counter, “You’re my favorite, and I’m glad that I ended up stranded here with you over anyone else.”

He finally meets your gaze, “You hate being stranded anywhere.” Howzer corrects with a wry smile.

“See, no one else knows me like you do.”

“Well, I have known you for years now,”

Your hand falls from his hair to rest against his cheek, just over his scar. There are so many things you want to tell him. So many thoughts you want to share.

Things that he deserves to know.

But the words seem to stick in your throat.

After all, there’s no way he feels the same way for you as you do for him.

So, instead, you offer a tiny smile, “I’m guessing you have a plan.”

Howzer turns his head and presses a light kiss to the palm of your hand, “Always do.” He pulls away from you, “Are you okay waiting here for me?”

“Just don’t forget about me.”

“Never.” He stands and peels off his jacket, “Here, use this as a pillow and get some rest. I’ll be back when I’m done.”

You take his jacket and fold it so you can lay down, “Be careful,” Howzer tosses you a wink, and then he’s gone.

And, now alone, you release a quiet sigh. “I love you, Howzer.”

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#star wars #tbb #captain howzer x reader #howzer x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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rinixo · 2 years ago

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aquae vivae

Din Djarin/Reader | 4.1k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, PIV sex, Mand’alor Din Djarin, breeding kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of pregnancy, subtle sex pollen, wedding night, oral sex

Your wedding night as the new bride of the Mand'alor.

AU of the 'trying to sleep' series (non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi). Can be read alone.

a/n: This follows the same general story as 'thrones and people and cities' but can technically be read alone.I tagged 'sex pollen' but it just barely fits that trope. Mainly just added it so folks who aren't into it can skip/you're aware of the inherent dubious consent of it - but there is nothing but 100%, enthusiastic consent from all parties here.

read on ao3

You pause at the edge of the pool, eyeing the dark depths. The sound of dripping water echoes through the caverns, the only sound apart from your thrumming heart.

The murmur of your name snaps your attention to the caped man halfway down the steps into the pool. Din is half-turned towards you, armored head to toe as usual, the end of his long, furred cape floating in the still water. The cape around your shoulders matches his, and you rub the soft fur with your fingers nervously.

Din reaches out a gloved hand. Stepping forward, you lay your own in it and let him lead you down into the water. You’re surprised - despite the dark chill of the cavern, the water is strangely warm. You wonder if it is fed by geothermal springs, deep below the crust of the planet, or if it is something deeper.

There’s magic in the sacred pools, Din had murmured into your hair one late night. He told you about how bathing in the waters had redeemed him, how it was the great catalyst leading to his eventual accession to the role of Mand’alor. Now, as you stand before him, hands grasped in his, you wonder if the tingling on your skin is from the magnitude of what was about to occur or something more. Something without a name.

When Din had explained to you what a Mandalorian wedding was like, you had been quite happy at knowing it was a simple sharing of vows. He had then suggested that the two of you journey into the depths below the city center, to where the caverns with the living waters were located. There, just the two of you, you would bind yourself not only to the man you loved but also become Mandalorian yourself. It was a big moment, and one you had put a lot of careful thought into.

“Are you ready?” Din asks quietly. Squeezing his hands, you smile softly.

“Yes.”

Though you had memorized the vows before venturing into the caves, Din lead you through the words. You were grateful, not wanting to embarrass yourself by stumbling over the pronunciation.

“Mhi solus tome.”

We are one when together.

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when apart.

“Mhi me'dinui an.

We share all.

“Mhi ba'juri verde.”

We will raise warriors.

—

Blinking at the late afternoon light, you followed Din up out of the caves, wet gown sticking around your legs. You were looking forward to changing out of your damp outfit and spending the rest of the evening with your new husband.

People buzzed around you the whole way back to your chambers, several of them wishing the two of you congratulations. You murmured shy thanks, the feeling of being the center of attention during what you felt was such an intimate time causing some of your innate timidness to come forward.

Din had explained to you that part of Mandalorian weddings included feasting and celebrating after the vows were shared. The families and clans of the couples were usually the extent of the guests, but with an apologetic smile, Din warned you that the feast to celebrate your union was likely to be much larger. He was quite beloved as a leader - as the first Mand’alor to resettle the planet since the Purge. The first royal wedding in decades, with the capital more populated than it had been in ages, was shaping up to be quite the affair.

The delegation from Naboo had also gotten involved. The ambassador, who had been so put off by your relationship at first, reveled in the chance to showcase Naboo. All week shipments of millaflowers and lanterns were arriving, along with cases of draping fabrics, mirrors, and jewel-toned crystal. He had even commissioned a gown for you to wear during the feast. Traditionally Naboo clothing was very structured, so you were thankful to see that the gown the ambassador had made for you was in the lake country style - lighter, made of lace and tulle, with a low, open back.

As you stepped into the gown, securing it at your shoulders and around your neck, you paused to look at yourself in the full-length mirror in the closet of your chambers. You had never worn something so lovely. Draped over a chair in the corner was your cape, now dry from its dip in the living waters. It was a symbol of your new status, and you mused at the fact that the gown complemented it quite well.

A knock at the closet door drew you out into the main part of your room. Din - your husband, you thought giddily - was standing there in his armor, sans helmet. You felt yourself flush at the way his eyes widened at your appearance, drinking you in.

“You look stunning,” he breathed, and you smiled at the compliment. You step forward and fuss with his armor - unnecessary, as it was spotless as usual - and looked up into his deep, kind eyes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you remarked, leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth gently. You felt him smile and tilt his head to chase after your mouth, but you pulled away teasingly.

“Later,” you whispered. “We have a feast to attend, remember?”

Din grumbled, and you smiled placatingly. You’d be lying if you didn’t want to forget about the feast and spend the rest of the evening alone with your husband, but you knew if you didn’t show up for just a little while the ambassador would drag you there himself.

“I have something for you first,” Din pulled a small pouch out and turned it over. Something silver fell out into the palm of his gloved hand.

“A pendant?” You watched him hold it up, and saw that it was a delicate chain with a silver charm at the end in the stylized shape of some kind of creature, no bigger than one of your fingernails.

“I asked the armorer to make it,” he murmured. “It’s a Mudhorn, the symbol of my - our - clan.” He reached forward and clasped it around your neck, the weight of the pendant laying heavily on your breast. “It’s pure beskar, made from a piece of my armor.”

You looked down, touching it lightly. “It’s beautiful.”

Din merely smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours, and you responded in a quiet moment of tranquility.

—

The feast was certainly one for the history books. The throne room made you gasp as you entered it, arm-in-arm with Din. The vaulted ceilings were lit with hundreds of beautifully crafted lanterns, mirrors, and crystals reflecting the shimmering flames around the massive space. The millaflowers and fabric draped every surface, the sweet scent of the blooms perfuming everything around you. You gave credit to those who had decorated - all of the decorations perfectly complimented the stark, structured Mandalorian architecture. It truly was a unification of your two cultures.

All around you guests came forward with well-wishes and gifts, which a never-ending retinue of assistants would take a place elsewhere. Grogu, who was also dressed up for the occasion, gurgled happily in his father’s arms at all of the attention. You, however, were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Sensing your discomfort, Din lead you up to the raised dais in the front of the room, where the two of you sat side-by-side in lavish seats set in front of the throne. You reached for a goblet and downed a mouthful of sweet, flowery liquor. Din - who had put his helmet back on before the two of you joined the celebrations - tilted his head slightly in amusement.

“Feeling all right?” He asked, placing his hand on your thigh soothingly. You nodded, placing your drink down on the table and sighing deeply.

“Yes, I just needed some space,” you admitted. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” he answered. “Just a little while longer.”

Guests continued to stream up to the two of you, though now that you were seated and there was a decadent table between you and them you felt more at ease.

An elder Mandalorian approached your table with a crystal carafe filled with a deep red liquid. Setting it gently on the table, they intoned in heavy Mando’a.

“Wine,” Din translates, “Made in the ancient tradition from herbs and tinctures symbolizing prosperity and love. It’s a gift from those who remember the old ways and hope that our union brings forth a new age of growth for our people.”

“Thank you,” you express, taking the carafe. The elder bowed, before shuffling away to allow others to come forward.

The number of people coming up to you seemed to go on forever, and you poured yourself a generous glass of the special wine to help distract you and calm your nerves. It seemed to be working, the sweet yet tart liquid filling you with a familiar warmth and ease. You offered some to Din, who accepted a small taste by lifting his helmet enough for you to tip the goblet into his mouth.

After a while, you felt yourself relaxing into the plush furs of your chair, leaning against Din’s side. You played with Grogu’s ears as he tucked into the snacks laid out on the table, smiling fondly at the child and his voracious appetite.

“Does this mean I’m his mother now?” You wondered aloud and felt Din chuckle.

“I suppose,” he mused. “I’m his father, and you’re my wife, so that would make him our child.”

“Hmm,” you wiped a crumb from the side of the baby’s mouth, amused. “I always imagined my first child looking a little more like me.”

Din coughed, tensing slightly next to you. “Well,” he intoned lowly, leaning a little closer so that his words were only audible to you, “Perhaps the next one will.”

He placed his hand on your thigh again, the thin fabric shifting as he rubbed your skin. You felt warm from your head to your toes, with most of the heat pooling between your legs and where Din’s hand was placed. Throat suddenly dry, you lifted your drink and took another sip.

“C-can we go soon?” You lilted, wanting nothing more than to return to your rooms with Din alone.

“Soon,” Din promised, and you tensed your legs slightly to try to alleviate the ache growing between them. It was a familiar kind of ache, one that you had felt before, wine or no wine. However, there was something different about the way your body was reacting to the man next to you, and you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to take it before pouncing on him in front of everyone in attendance.

Thankfully it was not very long before Din gestured to a member of his staff and had them assist the two of you in making a smooth exit. He passed Grogu, now pleasantly drowsy, to one of his aides and then guided you back to your shared chambers.

When inside you kicked off your shoes, sighing at the relief of the cool floor under your feet. Din let go of your hand and locked the doors behind you, the sound of it engaging sending a throb of anticipation through your body.

You stepped towards your bed, which you had been sharing with Din for months before this. Something about its wide surface, covered in soft linen and furs, felt different this time. It was now your marriage bed.

The sound of Din removing his helmet, the seal disengaging, made you glance over to him. He placed it down gently and started with the rest of his armor. You stood there as if transfixed, watching as the man beneath the armor was slowly revealed. You always enjoyed being the audience to this ritual, and tonight was no exception. In fact, your body continued to warm, shivers of need going up your spine.

Din turns towards you, dressed down only to his most base inner layers. Realizing you were staring, your hands went to the clasp of your gown before he stops you with a low murmur.

“Allow me,” he husks, and you drop your hands to allow him to undress you himself. His fingers, surprisingly soft despite his rough past, dusted across your skin as the lace and tulle were unwound from your frame. At the same time, he began to back you up until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Pulling a pin from where your neck met your shoulder, your gown unraveled and fell softly around your legs. Din’s hands paused, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you there, bare save for the beskar pendant around your neck.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, and you nearly moaned at the tone of his voice. It rolled over you, through you, like thick, rich honey and smoke. You could practically taste it. With a gentle push, Din laid you back onto the bed, standing over you with a hungry look in his eyes.

“I dreamed about this.” He kneeled on the bed, crawling up your body. “You, in my bed, wearing the symbol of my clan.” His head dipped to place a kiss to the center of your ribcage. “Bound to me.” You shivered again as his mouth trailed up to your collarbone, your neck, and across your jaw. Your hands, shaking with expectant thirst, snaked up his powerful arms to clutch at his shoulders.

You wanted to say so many things, all of the emotions that had built up catching on the tip of your tongue, but when you opened your mouth all that left you was a choked “please.”

Din’s mouth slotted over yours and you moaned deeply into it, body arching up to press against his firmer form. One of his hands came to your thigh, and you hitched it up around his waist, rolling your hips wantonly. Your hands ran under his linen shift, and you whined at the barrier between your skin and his.

With a groan, Din’s mouth released from yours just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side. He continued his exploration of your flesh, licking a slow stripe down your arched neck. You hissed as his teeth pulled at your skin, your nails scratching lightly across the skin of his upper back.

“Din,” you crooned, hand going to his head as he dipped down to tease the peak of one of your breasts with that wicked tongue. You cried out as he sucked roughly on your nipple, sensations of velvet and fire going straight to your swollen pussy. His mouth moved between the tips of your breasts, pinching and sucking and nipping at the flesh there until it was as swollen as your pussy felt.

He raised his head, eyes wild. He took in your body, writhing and panting, and thought you reminiscent of molten steel. You sought his gaze, pupils blown dark and wide with desire.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Din croaked, dipping his head down to nose the soft skin of your stomach. “Perfect creature…” he kissed his way down your lower abdomen. “I want to fill you up, sweet girl - do you want it too?”

You let out a wail as he licked a firm stripe up your leaking cunt. He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders so that you were bent - your upper back laying against the bed, your hips angled up towards his mouth. You were wetter than you thought possible, your pussy swollen and flushed. Din sucked firmly on your clit, moaning at the way you keened and shook in his grasp.

Your hands thrashed, clutching desperately at the furs around you. Your thighs tensed, squeezing tightly against the sides of Din’s head as he brought you closer to the crest of your pleasure.

The feeling of his mouth leaving you made you groan in frustration as he dropped your lower body back to the bed. You opened your eyes, brow furrowed as you propped yourself up to stare at your smug husband.

He climbed over you again, shedding his pants. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the hard cock between his legs, flushed and bobbing, leaking clear droplets of pre-spend. You laid back, legs spreading so that he could settle between them firmly.

“Eager girl,” Din teased. “You that desperate to have me inside of you?”

“Din,” you groused, “If you don’t fuck me soon I think I’m going to die.”

He laughed, husked low in his chest as he pressed himself firmly to your swollen entrance. You laid your head back onto the bed, sighing in relief as he began to stretch your walls. It felt like he was splitting you right down the middle in the best way, and you arched your back to let him sink in further.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re a jewel,” he breathed roughly, hips snapping forward until you wailed. “Taking my cock so well.”

You shifted your hips under him, angling yourself to take him as far in as your body would allow. He chuckled at your frustrated expression, arms braced on either side of your head. He bent forward to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

“My little wife,” he breathed over your lips. “Wants my cock so badly.”

“’S'good,” you slurred. “Big. Fuck me, please.” He answered you with a rock of his hips, hitting that spot inside of you that made you keen again.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he crooned against your mouth, hips slapping mercilessly against your pelvis. “Come on.”

“C-come in me,” you begged. Flashes of images - a little curly-haired baby at your breast, curled up against Din’s chest as he whispered to it lovingly, lowly - made your pussy clench around him. Your body ached for it in a way you had never experienced. You wanted him to get you pregnant, wanted to carry his child inside of you.

“Fucking - anything you want, sweet girl,” Din gasped. “Want me to fill you up “ he rides you hard, desperate for the way you cry with every punch at your guts. “You’re so good, baby, fuck-“

He continues to ramble, lost in how you’re tensing around him. “You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful, full of my child. You don’t know how badly I want it, so badly - I can practically see it -“

Emotion wells up in your chest, binding with the pleasure thrumming through you. You’re nearly there - fire rising from your toes and flooding down from your chest. Din dips his head to kiss your neck, and you start to tip over the edge. Your orgasm starts deep inside of your cunt, from where his swollen head is grinding up into your walls, and sparks down to where his pelvis rubs against your clit. Your vision goes white and you hear Din cry out as your desperate pussy wrenches from him his own release.

“T-take it,” he growls, hips snapping against yours, the head of his cock tight against the seal of your womb. You whine at the pressure of it, the feeling almost too good to bear. You shift your hips, pulling away before his head snaps up from your neck.

“No no no- take it,“ he groans, hand tight on your hip. You writhe under him, tears of pleasure pricking the corner of your eyes. His gaze on you burns, and you struggle to see him clearly through the fog of your ecstasy.

His pace remains steady, desperation clear in the way he rams his cock up into your cunt. “Your duty,” he gasps, leaning forward so that his chest nearly crushes you. “Do your duty and take my seed, bear my children.”

He holds you there as he pulses out the last of his release, breath leaving him in short pants through his nose. His teeth are gritted, brow furrowed, gaze locked to your eyes so that you can’t look away.

“D-Din,” you shudder, and his eyes soften. His grip on your hips loosens minutely, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“You did so well,” he praises you. “You’re so fucking good.”

You blink wetly, mind still focused on his cock and how it’s anchored inside of you, pinning you to the bed, plugging you securely. Din tilts his head at your determined expression, and when you roll your hips experimentally he sucks in air sharply.

“Feels good,” you mumble, drunk on the pleasure and the feeling of him still hard inside of you. Stars, how was he still so fucking hard? And why was your body telling you to make him come inside of you again?

Think about that later, you decide, hooking your legs around his waist and pushing him further up into you. He chokes again, head drooping to look at where the clutch of you holds him tightly inside.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re never going to know sleep without the feel of me leaking out of you.” He rolls his hips back before slamming back into you, your mouth opening in a satisfied groan. “Not until you’re fucked full of my child, sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding feverishly. It’s all you can manage to say, everything in you focused on where his body enters yours, in and out, inandout-

The two of you spend the entire night and most of the early morning like that, tangled together, until your bodies are near to collapse from exhaustion. It’s Din who taps out first, placating your desire with soft kisses to your temple and strokes to your still-swollen cunt. It isn’t long before your eyes start to droop, sleep just on the edge of your consciousness as he teases you to one last, lazy orgasm. You all but pass out, head resting on his chest to the feeling of him stroking your hair lovingly.

You wake hours later, alone in bed. Your body aches sweetly, and as you start you rise you roll your neck and groan.

“Good morning,” a raspy voice greets you, and you turn to look at where Din leans up against a dresser. He sips from a steaming mug, brow raising in humor at your bedraggled appearance.

“G’morning,” you croak, throat dry. Din sets his mug down, trading it for a glass. He comes over to the bed, sitting next to you, and hands it to you. You take it, gulping down the cool water gratefully.

“What time is it?” You asked, licking your lips. When he tells you - mid-afternoon - you scoff. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Din’s brow raises again, and he leans back against the headboard. “Thought you needed the rest,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Since you kept me up all night.”

You pouted, indignant and embarrassed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you mumble, and he laughs.

“Quite the opposite,” he husks. “And as much as I’d like to take responsibility for your behavior, I had a feeling it was due to something else.” You tilted your head in confusion, sipping more of the water.

“The wine,” he explained, and you thought back to the previous night - somewhat difficult a task - and remembered the crystal carafe.

“Turns out they mean “new age of growth” more literally than I understood,” Din continues. “That wine is made from herbs that act as an aphrodisiac and increase fertility. You drank a lot more of it than I did, so it hit you harder than it did me.”

You choke on your water, some of it dribbling down your chin. Wiping it away, you set your glass to your side and cover your eyes, groaning. Din pulls you closer and you bury your face in his chest, burning with embarrassment at the situation - and the implication.

“Silly girl,” he croons, hand creeping down your side. You look up at him, another shy pout on your lips, and he tips your chin up to kiss you slowly, deeply. You sigh into it, shifting your leg to straddle his lap and feel him smile against your mouth. You shift down to where his cock sits, firm and proud, and grind your bareness against him until he groans.

“More? So soon?” He whispers darkly, and you nip at him cheekily. Pulling back, you look your husband in the eye, a mischievous glimmer in your gaze.

“Might as well make sure it works, right?” You tease lowly, and shriek in loving laughter as he throws you down and begins to devour you again.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #mando x reader #din x reader

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skykind · 7 months ago

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A Clone Wars Episode Deep Dive

I didn't discover The Clone Wars fandom until 2021 and only started watching the show in mid-2023 (finished a few months ago), and I want to discuss and analyze all sorts of odds and ends—years after most people watched. This includes cool stuff in episodes I think some fans understandably skip when doing re-watches and therefore no longer remember well, but I’m digging into one of them anyway. So, have a long post about S2:E11, "Lightsaber Lost," and then come talk to me about it if you’d like!

This episode is saying three things at once, and the closer you get to the symbolic message meant for mostly adult audiences, the wilder things get.

The literal plot: Ahsoka’s lightsaber is stolen, and she recovers it with the help of a Jedi elder who teaches her life lessons along the way.

The morality tale for young viewers: gun control (a bold choice).

An eerie interlude for older viewers: A pair of brief scenes—only 45 seconds or so in length combined—communicate the future purge of the Jedi order via symbolic visual storytelling and a speech that’s being broadcast in the background. No dialogue required.

I'm going to focus on this third bullet point, but I also recommend a re-watch for the gun control angle. (Hint: if you think the writers are only arguing for handling guns responsibly, you haven’t taken the Jedi’s current context into account; also, the writers aren't referring to literal in-universe guns—Ahsoka’s lightsaber is the gun.)

Back to the episode’s message for older viewers: Split over two scenes, the audience watches Ahsoka chase a bounty hunter in possession of her lightsaber, then the bounty hunter partially damage and destabilize an enormous levitating billboard so she can get away from Ahsoka, and finally Ahsoka tumble down and precariously cling to the billboard’s screen. The billboard shows Palpatine delivering a—likely prerecorded—speech that is meant to sound supportive of the Jedi, but is instead priming Coruscant residents to believe anti-Jedi rhetoric; just before this two-scene sequence ends, Palpatine also begins to explain why he needs more executive power in order to support the Jedi.

It's great to pinpoint an example of Palatine's propaganda, but what does the visual storytelling communicate, with this speech for a backdrop?

Note: the text of Palpatine’s speech, shown in captions in the following screenshots, is not in alt text as that would chop the speech up between image descriptions, and is instead in a single paragraph after the final screenshot.

Palpatine's Speech

"I have no doubt that the Jedi are doing their very best to ensure the safety of every citizen in the Republic. The accusations that the Jedi created the Clone War to give themselves more power over the government is absurd and I will not stand for it."

Ahsoka as Symbolically at Palpatine's Mercy

After a scene break, Palatine's speech picks up mid-sentence and we see just how small and vulnerable Ahsoka is compared to Palpatine's soaring and vast projection. She appears entirely at his mercy, and somewhat at the mercy of Coruscant as well.

Palpatine's Speech, Resumed

"…Count Dooku and his droid army. To support the Jedi's efforts in the war, I ask the Senate to pass these new laws, giving more jurisdiction…"

The Genocide to Come

As this speech is broadcast to Coruscant, the seemingly trustworthy and dependable Chancellor of the Republic symbolically collapses beneath Ahsoka and leaves her stranded over a chasm. All while Palpatine spreads propaganda that will eventually convince the public to support her people's genocide.

Perhaps the best way to describe this is:

An unarmed Ahsoka struggles to hang onto the edge of a high precipice, that precipice is a symbol for Palpatine—and in a few years, Palpatine will shove the entire Jedi order off the edge of a much higher cliff.

Given how the sheer visual scale of Palpatine in this second scene represents the power he can wield over the Jedi—as the staging emphasizes Ahsoka's relative smallness and her physical vulnerability—it's clear the Jedi will not be able to rescue themselves when this future betrayal comes; Palpatine has amassed too much power and put too many plans in place. And no one who's bought into Palpatine's propaganda will try to catch the Jedi when they go over the edge.

Ahsoka’s Survival

Ahsoka’s individual survival of Order 66 is signaled here by her ability to get off the levitating billboard, but nothing about the staging suggests this comes down to unique skill—any number of well-trained Jedi could have gotten out of her predicament when the right opportunity (a single speeder that veers out of its lane and passes unusually close to the screen) presented itself.

In both “Lightsaber Lost” and "Victory and Death" (S7:E12, see below), her survival involves flinging herself through open air (and into an out-of-place flying vehicle), a nice nod to Ahsoka’s association with flight and Morai, though I feel like that’s a coincidence (?) as of season 2. Or maybe not. I have no idea if Ahsoka’s symbolic associations—flight in the case of “Lightsaber Lost,” rather than Morai specifically—were planned out in advance.

What About the Propaganda?

Returning to season 2, we come to the final big-picture takeaway of the "Lightsaber Lost" scenes: I’ve referred to Palpatine’s speech as something that plays in the background because Ahsoka doesn’t pay attention to his propaganda, even though it’s literally in her face. What does this mean if we treat Ahsoka as a stand-in for the Jedi, and Palpatine’s speech as a stand-in for his growing threat to the Jedi? In these scenes, Ahsoka first doesn’t pay attention because she’s trying to stay alive in precarious circumstances, just as Jedi across the galaxy are kept distracted from the big picture by trying to keep themselves, their Padawans, their troops, and civilians alive as war swallows up the galaxy. Then, Ahsoka is distracted by tracking the bounty hunter who has her lightsaber; in the context of this episode (which asks, ‘who should be allowed to use a lightsaber, and when?’), Ahsoka’s lightsaber also comes to represent Jedi’s efforts to fight the Clone Wars as ethically as possible. It presumably takes more time and effort to fight a war when you’re concerned with morals, at least when the opposition is perfectly happy to commit war crimes. By tossing the Jedi into a war, Palpatine keeps them too busy to systemically search for the Master Sith (in addition to Sith stuff diminishing the Jedi’s ability to use the force), as their time is eaten up by upholding the equivalent of the Geneva and Hague Conventions (etc.) when almost no one else is, by protecting as many other lives as possible, and by staying alive.

And The Clone Wars communicates all of this in a minute! Though I’ll admit my final point about Ahsoka’s lightsaber representing ethical combat is a stretch. I love it when TV shows and movies make full use of visual storytelling, and The Clone Wars is fabulous at it.

Whew—and that’s that! I’m grateful if even a single person has read this far and would love to know what you think, but regardless, I had fun analyzing this episode and organizing my thoughts about it. Cheers to the Clone Wars fandom.

#ahsoka tano #ahsoka #the clone wars #star wars #jedi #order 66 #sheev palpatine #star wars meta #beloved jedi #skykind meta

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autistic-ben-tennyson · 12 days ago

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Why the Diamond Redemption Doesn’t Work

About a year ago I wrote a post defending Steven Universe and Steven’s character writing. Since then my views have changed a bit and while I don’t think Steven is as much of a wuss as those Jack Horner or Hitler memes make him out to be, I can understand some of the gripes with the Diamond’s redemption. While Lily Orchard is a shitty person, I do side eye some of the people who hate her especially due to transmisogyny getting worse and her being a trans woman that doesn’t pass well and while some of her criticisms of the show are unfair, others were those black fans already had discussed regarding the show’s anti blackness with Sugilite and Bismuth and I’m going to explain why the Diamonds redemption doesn’t work by comparing them to similar characters.

In most stories that redeemed a fascist, abusive or genocidal villain, something was done to ensure that they would be incapable of causing further harm. Darth Vader, Kylo Ren and Gendo Ikari all died. They may have committed a heroic sacrifice and gotten acceptance from Luke, Rey and Shinji but that’s it. Vader and Kylo did go to Jedi heaven and Gendo was allowed to reunite with Yui in death but they still had to die as their crimes were too great to forgive. People can criticize how well executed these redemptions were but they only reconciled with one person and no one was forced to forgive them.

As for villains who were given a second chance and continued to live, something was still done to prevent them from hurting others. Lord Ozai had his powers taken away by Aang. ATLA has also been criticized for falling into white liberalism but at least Ozai still faced consequences. Ben directly targeted the Highbreed’s racist ideology by forcing them to walk in the shoes of those they tried to genocide by mixing their DNA with the omnitrix’s aliens. Lord Garmadon was corrupted by the Great Devourer and later Oni blood after his resurrection and he had to prove both times he had changed by taking a vow of nonviolence and helping the Ninja. Harumi’s redemption was criticized for being rushed but at least she had lost her powers and was implied to be under police surveillance in Crystalized. All these villain characters got off easy but at least had something done to remove their ability to cause harm.

In some cases a villain would be offered redemption and chose to reject it. That would have been a way to keep Steven a pacifist while still destroying the diamonds via their own actions. Lord Shen was offered a second chance despite everything he had done to Po and rejected it which caused his own death. Emperor Belos tried to manipulate Luz and was rightfully treated as the liar he was. The Diamonds for all we know could be doing the same and only acting nice to placate Steven until he dies, given how little they seem to regret abusing Rose and tried to get a replacement with Steven and later Spinel. They didn’t need to be shattered but as @thewoollyviking said, they needed to lose their powers so they could never be able to take back their empire if they returned to their old ways.

Something else that’s been on my mind is the idea that wanting the diamonds to suffer consequences is a “culturally Christian” or “Tankie” worldview. Like maybe some people are influenced by a punitive view of Christianity but i have also seen Christian fans who insisted that Steven had to forgive them based on their religious views. Wanting someone to face consequences isn’t always to be cruel and unusual. It’s to prevent them from harming other people and restorative justice is not the same as letting people off the hook. They still need to face some sort of justice to recognize what they did was wrong as a catalyst for becoming better people.

I think the problems with the diamond’s redemption came down to it being intended to be an allegory for an abusive family while having them commit all sorts of crimes like purging any gem that didn’t align with their beliefs and creating the cluster to blow up the earth. SU suffers because it used magical girl solutions to deal with sci fi/irl political issues which came off as tone deaf to a lot of people. Not everyone who dislikes it does so because of one person’s video essay and while it didn’t need to kill the diamonds, them losing their powers and being banished from Homeworld would have been more satisfying as a compromise because people like the diamonds will never change in real life and letting them off like that does have real world implications.

#steven universe #su critical #steven universe critical #Ben 10 #ben 10 alien force #evangelion #neon genesis evangelion #nge #rebuild of evangelion #star wars #avatar the last airbender #atla #the owl house #kung fu panda #ninjago #lego ninjago #lily orchard

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

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Some paz vizsla x sith male reader?

Paz Vizsla x Sith male reader

Headcanons

Because of my love for fanfic and the Kotor games, theres a lot of headcanosn in this. I will find a way to involve Revan when I can, so he’s also there, in the background. Theres also a single Revan x Canderous mention.

Theres so much about Kotor in this, it really took a life of its own, so I hope you enjoy.

I missed writing star wars so bad, can yall tell?

First of all, being Sith doesn’t immediately make you evil. It just means you follow a specific religious groups way of teaching and practice their rituals to some extent. This means you use the dark side, and have nothing against harming others to reach a goal.

You aren’t as power hungry as other sith in this time, and you aren’t under Palpatine’s thumb. Far from it actually. The dark side is to some extent fueled by your hate for the empire and anyone involved with it, as you were once a jedi youngling when the purging happened.

You were a padawan at the time, and your master had always been very interested in holocrons and the past. Their most prized possession was the holocron of Darth Revan, or one of his many holocrons that had been left all over the galaxy.

So, after you saw them gunned down by the clonetroopers you thought you could trust, you ran, taking an escape pod to get as far away as possible. It just turns out you had been carrying Revan’s holocron in your bag at the time, and after landing on a smaller less populated planet, you had hidden away in its vast cave system.

You feared going mad for a while, as you were just a padawan, one who had lost everything. You were almost consumed by this anger and rage, so uncontrollable as you cracked at the edges and fell.

Revan’s force presence must have felt this inside the holocron, as he appeared before you, and guided you through it, keeping you from completely shattering your mind and becoming a beast hellbent on revenge.

From then on, Revan became your new master, leading you around the galaxy to find his other holocrons and artifacts as he taught you everything he knew, and to the best of his ability.

He was kinder than any sith you had ever heard of or met, and he taught you a lot about the sith empire and how not all sith had been power hungry madmen, that before the rule of two, they had been more on the stable side, to a certain extent.

He never claimed they were good people, but you didn’t need that, you appreciated his honesty. Along these journeys, you even found holocrons of some of the other sith of his like, like Malak, who was Revans old friend.

Malak hadn’t been happy about you in the beginning, but he had ended up begrudgingly taking some kind of master role to you, almost like a standoffish uncle. But thanks to their training you are able to stay completely hidden from the empire, and live the life you want to live.

You go where the force leads you, which just so happens to be places that Revan and other great sith of made themselves at home in the past. You had almost started cheering and singing when you found what some would call the tomb of Darth Nihilus, much to your masters embarrassment, as Malak looked at Revan with a lifted brow.

Your interest in the past had been something you had picked up from your first master as a padawan, and it stayed. It was something Revan had to accept as his force ghost watched you fanboy over a mummified hand of Darth Sion, or leftover notes left over by Darth Malgus on saber forms.

Your greatest achievement was your helmet. Or rather, your master’s old helmet. Palpatine had pretty much ransacked the jedi temples after culling them all, stealing whatever he wanted, and the jedi had owned Revan’s helmet for many years, locked away far away from prying eyes.

With your master, and uncle-masters help, you were able to sneak in and steal it right back, taking it from right under Palpatine and Vader’s noses. The helmet barely looked like a helmet with how old and worn it was, but the power inside it made it clear. It was Revan’s helmet.

Revan had gifted it to you, almost beaming as you teared up at the trust he seemed to put in you. You were sith alright, and your emotions were what fueled you, and your love for your master and his love for you was the strongest there could be between family.

You were able to create a new helmet, using what was left of Revan’s and other materials, one of those materials being Beskar you stole from the empire. You even painted in similarly to Revan but added some of your own touches.

Little did you know, this helmet is what caught your future lovers attention first. Mandalorians love a strong partner, and those that follow the creed love some good armor, so Paz couldn’t keep his eyes off you when he saw you the first time.

You pretty much just bleed raw power into the air around you, letting it swirl around you like a second armor and letting everyone around know you were a possible threat if crossed. That was the kinda person that had Paz sweating and his blood pumping.

You would meet because you found yourself on the same planet as the covert hes with, hunting down something left by Canderous ordo, some piece of armor, like a pauldron he had left behind for Revan as some kind of marriage declaration.

Its after finding these pauldrons that you meet Paz, and some of the other older members of the covert. Apparently, words of a guy in scary black and red armor skulking around was enough to have them weary.

In the beginning they might think your Mandalorian, from the style of your armor and the new unpainted pauldrons you have added to your armor, making them hesitate, but that moment of hesitation if all you need to launch an attack.

You don’t kill any of them, wouldn’t want too, but by the force do you kick their ass, another thing that has Paz feeling hot under all that armor. He almost wants to drop to his knees to say the marriage vows right then and there when you fling him over your head using one hand, the other reflecting blaster bolts with little difficulty.

What can he say, mandalorians fall hard and they fall fast, blame it on living such dangerous and hard lives. So, when he sees you aren’t actually trying to kill them, Paz hopes there’s a chance you might stick around.

You end up getting away, ignoring the cackling of your master and the glowering of your uncle-master. The tables turn when Malak starts mentioning Ordo and the love declaration through the pauldrons, leaving your master quiet and mumbly as Malak smirks. They are definitely the reason you don’t fear the sith of old as much anymore.

Paz grieves a little as he doesn’t see you again for a while, even though he tries to keep an ear and eye out for you in your black and red armor and that flexibility that has him gripping the wall when he thinks about it too hard.

In the end its Ragnar, Paz’s son, that brings you before them again. He had ended up in some trouble, and the force had almost screamed for you to help him. Listening to the force was what you did, so you helped the helmet wearing kid out.

Ragnar was smart, and had heard his dads dreamy mumblings and the other mandalorians teasing, so he could immediately tell who you were. One way or another, and though it’s extremely against the rules, he gets you to where the covert is hiding.

Paz shows up and starts worrying about Ragnar, cuz he loves his son and doesn’t wanna see him hurt, and when he hears its you who saved him, he starts feeling hot under the armor again.

On the insistence of the force, you stick around the covert. Paz takes the time to go about romancing like mandalorians do, by peacocking and challenging you to spars. He never wins, not even the ones where you don’t use the force.

Its humorous to see that large hulking back being wrestled to the ground by you, or thrown around like he weighs nothing. You can tell how he feels about you, but you fear acting on it, even though Revan keeps bugging you to do so, much to Malaks annoyance.

In the end you two end up getting together like how many mandalorians do or did. During a fight. Things were getting tough, and a couple of your allies had gotten hurt, even Paz was down for the count.

You needed him up and at em though, so you had reached down and pulled him into a keldabe kiss, pressing your helmeted foreheads together and told him if he got out of this alive, you’d let him take you on a date.

That immediately had him standing, even though his leg wanted to buckle from a stab wound. The enemy were taken out in record time.

Your first date goes a little awkwardly, as neither of you actually have any experience dating. You spending all your life as a jedi and then sith, and Paz being part of a pretty hard covert. But you two work it out, and it ends with you sparring and scuffling in the sand, which maybe lead to something more. The helmets stay on the entire time.

No one is surprised when you two start dating, or when you start becoming a permanent fixture in the covert. Sure, they’re weary in the beginning because you are an outsider and because you are sith, but they come to appreciate you.

They really start welcoming you when you can use your dark presence in the force to hide them away from anyone searching for them, or to take out possible threats. You even start teaching some of the force sensitive members. You don’t force them to use the dark side, but you do end up teaching them about the balance between both.

When Din shows up again, he doesn’t fully know what to do with the information that Paz went and got himself hitched, and to a sith of all things, but he sees you well you fit into It all and their creed, and who is he to judge.

You get on well with Ragnar, as he was pretty much the one to bring you to his dad, and the kid grows attached to you. Who else but him can brag about his powerful dark sider warrior dad? That gets him some brownie points from the other foundlings.

When you and Paz marry there is no big ceremony, its just a vow spoken between you and that’s it. You always find yourself cackling at the memory of how jittery he had been to see your face for the first time, now that you were married.

During all this time you hadn’t been against taking your helmet off, but you just hadn’t had a reason too.

Paz spends a lot of time just holding your face in his hands and taking you in, with you doing the same to him. Expect many kisses from then on, every time you are alone. He is really bad at kissing in the beginning, since he has zero experience, but he makes up for it with his enthusiasm and willingness to learn.

Paz is still stoic around others and is a big presence, taking care of the dirty work and keeping people safe. But with you he gets to be soft, he gets to be weaker for once, which only fuels his feelings for you.

He never makes you feel like a monster for using the dark side, and he had marveled and just stared at your glowing yellow eyes for a long time the first time he had seem them, barely believing it was possible for them to look like that, just because of the force.

You are still a sith after all of this, and you still leave now and then to hunt down artificacts and other types of knowledge left by the sith of old, but you don’t feel as much urgency as in the past.

You even bring Paz and Ragnar along for the less dangerous ones, as a family trip. You can’t bring them along for most artifacts though, since you don’t wanna lose them to ancient sith traps or mind tricks.

It’s the stability you’ve needed for many years, and though you are still fueled by passion and emotions, it isn’t the same anger that you had harbored all these years. It was more the love you had for your husband and your son, and the fact that you would tear apart the galaxy for them if they asked.

The feelings are returned from Paz of course, and Ragnar too, as you guys’ care about each other deeply, as any family should. They do get a bit freaked out, even years later, when you tell them about force ghosts and how Revan is always present. Sometimes you say it just to see them subtly looking around, it’s hilarious.

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alphaofdarkness · 2 months ago

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“This way, you can save your time / This way, you close the door and have your damn goodbye.” — My Goodbye by Jorge Rivera-Herrans & Teagan Earley from EPIC the Musical

—

(；・∀・) I— don’t know where the inspiration to try animation for some of these songs came from, pero bueno, I’m not complaining ✨👉🏼👈🏼 the songs are just too good not to try 🤩

After listening to My Goodbye, I just felt it in my bones that it fits the argument Ahsoka and Sabine may have had that lead to their strained relationship on screen. We just have to make our own conclusions, so this one is mine~.

Individual pages and my deranged rambling below ✨

I think many do agree that the break of their mentor/apprenticeship and original search for Ezra came to an end after the Night of A Thousand Tears-The Great Purge of Mandalore; soo after the loss of Sabine’s Clan and family most likely. Which is so,,, agh, leaves a heavy knot in my chest every time I think about it 😞

Pero bueno, I can understand to an extent why Ahsoka chooses to let Sabine go and all — doesn’t mean I fully forgive her for doing it during such a traumatic event for Sabine, my beloved 😤 Anyhow, that is my thoughts on it and also for Sabine’s epilogue haircut in the draws (I have officially completed all of her hair styles 🤩).

I truly think a lot of the lyrics in this song definitely fit them both, not just the parts I gave Ahsoka and Sabine.

Why purrgils with Sabine 🐋? Association to Ezra and how finding them may lead to where he is. Plus, just her overall desire to find him and how this likely was a factor when she asked Ahsoka to train her as a Jedi to be able to find/sense him in the force.

Anyways, the “I have to see him…” just— 😩😭 I know that’s exactly what Sabine was thinking in her head when she handed the map ~ (originally my initial sketch for the “Just a man” part, but I liked her expression a lot I added it in and refined the lines~

I hope y’all like! I hope to try two more with two more songs, hope y'all can guess which ones lol 😭👉🏼👈🏼 wish me luck 🍀

#ahsoka tano #sabine wren #star wars rebels #ahsoka series #star wars #implied sabezra #alpha’s art #song inspiration #my goodbye #epic the musical #traditional art

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comicchannel · 1 year ago

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Star Wars The Black Series Jedi Fallen Order Purge Stormtrooper Hasbro E7206

Link para compra BR: https://amzn.to/48kx10M

Buy here: https://amzn.to/3tHm3DE

#hasbro #action figures #comics #disney #star wars #the black series #lucasfilm #trooper #stormtrooper #purge trooper #jedi fallen order #Gaming Greats

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jo-harrington · 15 days ago

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Luminous Beings - Episode 2: Not the Smuggler You're Looking For

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie accepts the new venture presented to him and the new business partners get to know each other over drinks.

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Action, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague Reference to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: Thanks to everyone who's reading Luminous Beings so far. I'm so glad you're enjoying. This chapter we're about to dive a little bit more into the politics in the Galaxy Far Far Away. Not in-depth and detailed, but reactions from Eddie's POV.

Once again, you don’t need to know much about Star Wars to read. But if you are not familiar with Star Wars please take this as an additional warning: Star Wars has always been political. The themes have always mirrored real world events and this fic is no different. I don't go into great detail about what is happening because the focus is the characters reactions to it. They aren't really sure what's happening either. And the things that Eddie and the other characters feel in this fantastical world...they mirror what a lot of us feel here in the real world.

Writing this as we keep going headfirst into feelings of overwhelmedness and lack of control and uncertainty in our world …it was honestly very therapeutic to be able to put the feeling to words with a character I love when I oftentimes am unable to verbalize them myself. So thank you for being witness to this and I hope it helps you find some kind of sense of understanding, if only for a moment, too.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

The energy at the table was familiar, yet strange.

Familiar in the sense that it definitely felt like something they'd encounter back home on Bracca: sitting in a cantina, chatting, and listening to the DJ spin tunes that were popular in this part of the Outer Rim.

And instead of the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded the visitors and interactions on the Smuggler's Moon, there was a comfort and sense of camaraderie that Mott and Merg Assob brought that made Eddie and his friends feel more at ease entering into a clandestine agreement with Thalia.

It was strange, though, because they were quirky enough that they didn't seem like the type of people to be in the smuggling business.

Merg had been the leather-clad stranger at the Surly Sarlaac the previous night, choosing an otherwise unassuming facade to keep herself safe on-planet. Without her helmet, she was a round-cheeked, lavender-skinned Theelin bombshell with an infectious laugh and, apparently, a singing voice that would insult even the tone-deaf.

"Well, there goes our tradition of drunkenly singing shanties with our associates before we head to the spaceport," Jeff announced with an awkward laugh.

It didn't take long for his friends to realize that he'd developed some kind of attraction for Merg, which was dashed when Mott was introduced as her husband.

Mott was as human as they came, almost painfully so. He looked like the type who'd try to sell you a used speeder, with thinning hair and a highly-stylized mustache, crinkling-eyes and a crooked smile. But he was friendly. More than friendly. He was almost neighborly. He'd greeted the crew of the Dragonborn like you would an old friend, and then offered to buy the first round, especially since they'd all be doing business together.

Then he got right to work regaling everyone with the stories of their most recent travels.

Of course, not without starting off with a cordial greeting. How a friend of Thalia’s was a friend of theirs, and how she'd been one of the most reliable contacts they'd had in the business.

And reliability was comforting to hear.

Especially when the blue-haired flight attendant hadn't bothered to join them yet.

"...And then the bartender asked if I was ready for the creamiest in all the galaxy," Mott held the attention of the table in rapt suspense. "To which I replied, 'That's exactly what I'm looking for.’"

Merg mouthed the words alongside her husband with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Famous last words," they concluded in tandem, earning chuckles from Dayv and G'areth.

Eddie laughed along with slightly less enthusiasm. He kept glancing towards the entrance of the cantina to manifest Thalia's appearance.

Jeff noticed, of course, and leaned in closer.

He whispered into Eddie's ear, "Do you think she's gonna bail?"

"No," Eddie shook his head, but kept his attention towards the front of the cantina. "She's the one who set this all up, I don't think she's gonna disappear on us. Not if she wants her payout."

He felt like an idiot to be left waiting like this, but that was entirely on his shoulders. He had accepted the job and agreed to this meeting without much in the way of being able to contact their new associate. Now he was left wondering where she was, with no way of reaching her, and he knew he'd look stupid in front of his friends—his crew—if he asked the Assobs if they'd heard anything from her.

Eddie had purposely omitted some of the details about his interaction with Thalia and the means by which they'd obtained this new job. He might’ve been a little embarrassed that the attraction he felt towards her was some kind of ruse, sure. But something about their meeting unsettled him after they'd parted ways, and he couldn't quite pin down what exactly it was.

She'd begged him for help and he accepted.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. He was a nice guy, sure, but he wasn't running a charitable cause. He tried to tell himself that she was paying for their services. In fact, she said she'd pay anything, which was suspicious in and of itself.

But credits were credits…and she begged him...so he accepted.

That was enough explanation for the guys in his opinion. He knew they wouldn't go into the job blind. If they sensed anything awry, they would tell him immediately and he would call the whole deal off.

Jeff, of course, was more in tune to the fact that Eddie was behaving strangely, than anything to do with their new acquaintances.

"Do you think this is some kind of trick?" he questioned Eddie further in concern. "I know these guys trust her but what if this is a chance for the Empire to bust us after that one job on Brentall IV?"

And that was the real conundrum, the real source of Eddie's uneasiness. He was pretty intuitive, but despite his sense of nervousness and uneasiness...he didn't sense any sort of danger around Thalia. The only deceit that she had shown herself capable of was getting him to trust her, maybe even like her, for a split second before she revealed she was only interested in what he could do for her.

And not who he was.

So could this be a trap? Sure.

But was it?

"It's not," Eddie answered definitively. "She'll be here."

He picked up his drink and knocked the whole thing back, before he signaled to the roaming service droid that he wanted another.

"How do you know?" Jeff pressed.

"She'll be here," Eddie repeated with a grunt.

"Who'll be here?" A whispered voice came from beside him.

Eddie turned, startled, to find Thalia sliding into the seat he'd left empty for her.

She was dressed less conspicuously than she had been at the Surly Sarlacc; while her blue curls remained intact, she'd traded her Star Tours uniform for clothes that blended in with the locals—a fitted shirt and jacket, and utility trousers tucked into comfortable boots. There was an obvious lack of a blaster anywhere on her person, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. He realized, then, that her tactic to get his attention the night before had worked; he doubted that he'd have honed in on her amidst the crowd if she dressed like she was now.

He grit his teeth as he debated waving down the service droid again, desperate for another drink.

Thalia seemed to read his mind, though, and offered to get the next round as she greeted everyone. Of course that put her in the good grace's of Eddie's friends immediately, and they all clapped at the offer.

"Uh," Thalia observed of the various states of intoxication at the table. "Maybe some snacks, too. Sober everyone up before we head to the spaceport."

"That's a good idea," Merg snickered and pinched at Mott's arm. "This one's been getting everyone drunk on Moof Juice."

"It's so they'll be more captivated by my stories," Mott argued amicably. "Speaking of Moof, we have to tell these boys about that time on Batuu..."

"Why don't," Eddie interjected with a suggestion of his own, "you tell us about how the three of you met? Since you seem to be such good friends."

He felt the fire within him quell as Thalia turned her eyes back to him, as that calm feeling settled over him once again.

He was starting to hate that feeling.

"Business associates," Thalia corrected him coolly. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, "more often than not."

"And when you're not?"

"Then we're drinking buddies."

"It might seem like a big galaxy," Merg interjected. "But it's a lot smaller than you think. Gotta keep the few good people you know close."

"Yeah, well, the only good people we know happen to be sitting at this table," G'areth chuckled and clapped a hand on Mott's shoulder. "You folks count, of course."

"Well, thanks," Mott grinned and returned the gesture, practically pulling G'areth closer to him. "But trusting your crew is a big deal. It's why it's only ever been me and the Mrs. Can't seem to find anyone else who wouldn't sell us out to the Imps."

Four sets of eyes turned on Thalia suspiciously.

"I'm not a part of their crew," she defended herself with a sarcastic smile. "And you can ask your Captain, I'm no fan of the Empire."

The service droid approached the table with fresh drinks and took orders for the next round, which dissolved the tension that had momentarily overtaken them. As it rolled away, the crew of the Dragonborn were treated to a delightful story about a sabaac game gone wrong, a run-in with the Hutts, and a slicer who could get clearance codes to an Imperial freighter.

"Allegedly," Mott, Merg, and Thalia all said as they got to the end of their story.

It was a hard story to follow, so outrageous it had to have been a lie, but having heard one of Mott Assob's drawn out anecdotes prior to it, the boys figured it was true. Or, at least, some of it had to be.

"And what about you boys?" Merg asked then. "Thali said you're from...what was it...Corellia?"

"Bracca," Eddie and Thalia corrected her in tandem. Eddie shot her an annoyed glance.

"Even worse," Merg snorted. "The guilds will screw you over more than any of the Bosses will; I’d start smuggling to avoid them too. So, let's hear it. How'd you get off that scrap-heap?"

The boys all hesitated, eyes darting to one another as they tried to figure out which one of them would start.

If they should start.

Of course, as the Captain, Eddie took the lead.

"It's not as glamorous as your story," he began with the slightest tinge of self-pity in his voice. "But these guys have been my best friends for years. We met back at school…"

He drifted off into the fond memories of him and his friends back home.

Bracca - 19BBY

"Long night, Mister Moonsun?"

Eddie's head snapped up and he shifted in his seat as his classmates snickered around him; he then turned his attention to his instructor, Cal Larke, who stood beside his station and stared at him with gentle concern.

"No, sir," Eddie cleared his throat and shook his head, then looked down to the datapad before him. It showed an extensive engineering diagram that almost made his eyes cross with its complexity.

"Bored?"

"No, sir, sorry."

How could he tell his instructor that he'd been kept up with nightmares and hadn't gotten much sleep? That he felt little bits of anxiety, pains in his heart all night and he was too afraid to close his eyes again.

Instead, he just apologized again and said, "I won't let it happen again."

Larke placed a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder and then went back to his podium to continue his lesson.

Eddie turned his head towards the next station, where Jeff was seated, and shot him a questioning glare as if to ask "how come you didn't wake me up?"

Jeff just shrugged apologetically and looked back down to his own datapad.

Poodoo Head.

Everyone knew that Eddric Moonsun wasn't the best student at the Training Institute—he wasn't even in the top 50%—but he was curious, good at tinkering, and a quick learner. So this was where he ended up, whether he liked it—or was good at it—or not. The Guilds could always use more manpower, according to his uncle. According to everyone.

Not like there were many other career options on Bracca, unless he wanted to sling bantha hash someplace at the Terrace.

He'd live and work and work and live, until he was an old man and death came for him. It would be a simple life.

A simple life was a good life.

At least, that's what Uncle Wane always said.

Your family, your health, a job that paid well, and a good cup of caf to wake you up in the morning; those were the keys to happiness.

Except...Eddie wasn't sure that was really what he wanted.

He trudged through the rest of the lesson and whooped when class let out for the day.

One of the only good things about Bracca was that it was basically one big playground; that was the way he and his friends looked at the otherwise lackluster planet that they called home. Bracca was dotted with the hulking, rotting skeletons of cruisers and starships dating back as far as anyone could remember.

If Corellia was the shipyard of the Galaxy, Bracca was the junkyard.

And instead of building the next great starship—or warship, as deep as the Republic currently was in the Clone Wars—the engineers on Bracca thought of ways to break down the remnants of star travel past and reuse their parts for something new. Inventions that could benefit lesser-developed or wartorn planets in the Republic.

Everything that was left behind? The husks? The engineers made good use of them too.

Of course, they weren't meant for dumb kids to climb and play in but it happened anyway.

In the outskirts of town, past the Terrace but before the vast shipbreaking yards, Eddie and his idiot friends created a makeshift clubhouse in the remains of a Rendilli corvette. It was an old scrap heap—a relic—that wasn't even worth the time to break down, so of course they thought it was perfect. It was where they wasted time between class and home. They fussed with fantastical make-believe stories and crafted little figurines out of scraps to go along with their games; tales of heroes and villains and myths that they'd only ever dreamed of.

They’d have speeder races through Coruscant, vibrosword fights with bounty hunters on Mandalore, and explored the suncaves of Sedri for treasure.

They'd even found, in a stack of discarded parts, a dusty, old, bin-shaped T7-series astromech droid. It was a relic too, and of course it didn't work, but Jeff and G'areth had started rebuilding it, bit by bit.

Maybe they’d get it to work one day. The droid. And the ship. And they’d all be able to leave Bracca behind and live out their fantasies.

Until then, the most exciting thing they did was listen to the Holonet News.

"Don't know why you kids wanna listen to any of that stuff," his uncle would always grumble while Eddie caught the morning broadcast before they left for the day. "Just propaganda for the Republic. We're in a war no one wanted. They've got to make it seem like we're winning."

But there was another reason why Eddie liked to watch the broadcasts. It's why everyone wanted to.

The Jedi.

The protectors of the galaxy, now tirelessly working to stop the Trade Federation from…

What were they trying to do exactly? Eddie couldn't be too sure; he had been a bit too young to care about the details when the conflict began. It was practically history now, and he was barely passing his galactic history module.

But stories of the heroes of the Republic were endless and exciting; they always had been, even before the war. The mysterious Jedi Masters and their travels and adventures throughout the galaxy. Peace and justice, the ways of the Force.

Aside from the impact of the Clone Wars, nobody on Bracca seemed to care except for Eddie and his friends. Nobody they knew, at least.

It was just another bit of escapism from the mundane future that waited for them and that they—or possibly just Eddie—refused to accept.

"This just in," Eddie shouted, mimicking the HoloNet News anchor's voice, as he and his friends ran towards their clubhouse. "General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker foiled yet another assassination attempt on the Chancellor's life earlier today above Coruscant."

"The Chancellor thanks his heroic saviors by awarding them with fame and riches beyond belief!" Dayv added excitedly.

"But the Jedi, known for their vows of selflessness, rejected the rewards," G'areth continued. "We were able to get a statement from General Kenobi himself."

Eddie, who'd spent hours practicing his fancy Coruscanti accent just for the fun of make-believe, adjusted his posture to match the Jedi Master.

"It is our duty and privilege to save the Chancellor and ensure democracy thrives."

"He wouldn't say that!" Jeff scoffed and slapped a hand against his shoulder.

"Yes he would! I swear!"

Once their bickering was over, they logged in for the afternoon broadcast of the Holonet news on a datapad and all went about their little hobbies.

Ga'reth and Jeff took out their tools to work on the droid. Eddie fiddled Wane’s old guitar and daydreamed something new for once—starting a band with his friends one day; talk about a dream. And Dayv tapped away on his own datapad, some research for their pretend.

Finally, the much-awaited broadcast began.

"This is Alfwanne Pinngran," the lead anchor greeted.

"I'm Kafra Krint,” came the voice of his co-star. “And this is Holonet News."

The boys all hummed along with the catchy intro jingle.

They expected to hear the repetitive stories that had fed into their imagination for weeks—news of the heroes of the war—but the mood immediately turned somber as Kafra began with breaking news.

"An attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant!" All four boys froze. "Smoke has been seen coming from the Temple, but with no official statement given by the Jedi Order, we can only assume the worst."

"And you know what they say about assuming things, Kafra," Alf cut in, his mistimed joke taking on more of a somber tone.

"CSF has told us that the situation is under control and the residents in the surrounding areas should proceed with normal activities. Skylanes around the temple have been diverted and there has been increased security on the ground as Clone Battalions have been seen en masse. Holonet News will report more once we have additional information."

The boys sat in suspense, hoping for more, but the broadcast moved back onto other reports as usual. General galactic news, reports about the Clone Wars, and a one-in-a-lifetime weather event in the atmosphere of Umgul.

They were all shocked.

Eddie was stunned into silence.

They waited and listened, but soon the broadcast was over.

They raced home after that. Escaping from their mundane lives suddenly didn’t seem so important. They couldn't waste another minute on their fantasies and make believe, not as a big part of their world came to a screeching halt.

And it did, indeed, come to a screeching halt.

Especially for Eddie.

He complained of a stomach ache to Wane for days, and Wane—knowing not to question or force his nephew to do something he truly didn't want to do—let him stay home from the Training Institute.

"But only ‘til the end of the week." He pointed at Eddie sternly. "You're getting older now, son. Sixteen. You've gotta have some responsibility. You've gotta finish your classes and make something of yourself. Moping around at home isn't gonna get you there."

"I know, Wane," Eddie sighed.

Wane, ever a man of few words, turned on his heel and was about to depart. But he stopped at the door and looked back.

"Someone at school bothering you?" he asked.

Eddie stiffened for a moment under his uncle’s scrutiny.

He knew he couldn't tell Wane about his worries; Wane kept his head down, and didn't care about the Republic or the Jedi. He didn't care for the war either but what could they do? They couldn’t just up and leave the galaxy; the most they could do was get off-planet. He wouldn't understand why Eddie was so affected by the news he'd heard.

So he just said, "No."

"You get into an argument with your friends?"

"No, everything's fine."

"Well...how about we go down to the Terrace for breakfast on Benduday? You tell me what's bothering you."

Eddie sighed and reluctantly agreed, but felt the guilt churn in his stomach until Wane finally left their flat for his shift.

He immediately hopped out of bed to grab his datapad from his schoolbag; he signed into Holonet News and scrolled articles for anything from Coruscant that would give more details about the attack on the Jedi temple.

And it was silly. He knew that it was silly.

Eddie—well, the whole kriffing Moonsun family—wasn't big on beliefs. Sure, there was the Force, but he didn't see or feel any Force. Most of the galaxy didn't, at least as far as he knew.

But it was nice to believe there was more, wasn't there?

Not just the mystical, but the tangible, too. Dreams and goals and plans.

Wane had been right, he had to think about his future, but to have a future that was a carbonite copy of Wane's life? That's not what he desired.

Wasn't there more out there than that? A whole galaxy to explore and search for happiness.

Eddie's father thought so, that's why he hadn't been back on Bracca for more than a few days at a time since his mother died. But Aldred Moonsun had lost his way thanks to grief. He couldn't care for his son, only for himself. There was nothing ambitious about his abandonment of the status quo.

So, for Eddie, the Holonet truly represented...more.

The stories about other planets, the stories about the Jedi, about heroes and princesses and even the types of foods that could be found if he could only get off Bracca.

Bracca was the only home he'd ever known all his life; how could he tell his uncle that what he really wanted was to be anywhere but here?

How could he tell his uncle that after he'd learned about the Jedi, he'd wished that they might come and take him away to be a hero and save the galaxy one day, just like they were?

A notification at the corner of the screen pulled Eddie back to reality and he pressed it to see the live broadcast of the Galactic Senate.

It started slow, with introductions of delegates from around the galaxy.

He enjoyed seeing their garb; costumery that celebrated the cultures of the planets they represented. It was so different from the purposeful clothing that his uncle wore as an engineer, or his uniform for the Training Institute—even though he'd added his own little bits of flair where he could to feel different. To feel more like himself, whoever he really was.

A scroll of text at the bottom of the screen indicated that this was an emergency convening of the senate, called by the Chancellor himself. There were statements from various senators about their quick trips to Coruscant from afar, and all had statements and well-wishes about the attack on the Jedi Temple, as true politicians would.

Eventually, Chancellor Palpatine took his place at the center of the Galactic Senate and began his speech amidst the applause at his appearance.

Immediately, Eddie could tell that something was wrong. A feeling deep in his gut. The Chancellor's words...they just didn't make sense.

The war was over, the Separatists had lost.

But with the Republic's victory, a new challenge emerged.

Jedi. Betrayal. Rebellion. Assassination.

An uprising against the Galactic Republic on over a thousand worlds, and the Clone Battalions protecting the sanctity and order by slaughtering the traitorous Jedi.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine declared to the roaring crowd, most of whom seemed to agree thanks to their cheers.

Eddie was horrified as Holonet News began flashing what could only be described as wanted posters across the top of the broadcast. Hundreds of faces of Jedi Knights and Masters.

Yoda. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Quinlan Vos.

And apprentices.

Padawan Jin-Lo Rayce. Padawan Ferus Olin, Padawan Steev Toninghar.

Kids who looked just about as old as he did. Some even younger.

They were going to hunt these younglings down? They were going to kill children?

The list went on and on.

And Eddie continued to watch the address in horror and confusion. In grief.

Everything he knew, the stories he knew and loved...had it all been a lie? The Jedi were heroes; they'd just saved Palpatine. They'd never try to kill him.But why shouldn’t he trust what the Holonet News said? Why shouldn’t he trust the Chancellor when he’d just led the Republic to victory? When he’d just ended the Clone Wars?

Palpatine said one last remark to thunderous applause before his Grand Vizier took over the address—

"In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society."

—and with that Eddie's world began to be torn apart by something so much bigger, so immensely grander than a boy from Bracca could ever fathom.

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

"...old Ed here got a job with his uncle down at the shipbreaking yard, and he strong-armed us into starting a band to play down at the Terrace until we were done with school."

Eddie was pulled back into the conversation as Jeff patted him on the back; he straightened in his seat and turned his eyes down towards his drink, a little ashamed that he'd lost himself in the memory of the day everything changed.

Despite this, his friends had done an excellent job of telling the tales. Of Bracca, of their schooling, of their dream of something better. The others sat raptly as the story concluded.

Well, Mott and Merg did.

Thalia was stiff beside him, fingers tapping against the sides of her glass as she seemingly absorbed the story, but looked to be lost in her thoughts. Just like Eddie had been.

It only took a few brief moments of his eyes on her for her to break from her trance; she turned her head to him, and with sad eyes, she gave him a smile.

Once again, he was left confused. He didn't know what to make of that smile. Didn't know what to make of her. Didn't know what to make of this whole kriffing situation that he seemed to have gotten himself into by accepting this job.

He was unsettled by his own recollections; he hadn't really thought of home in years. They'd left and hadn't ever looked back. His uncle had visited them once—just once—at their first flat on Coruscant. It had been a long and tedious journey that Eddie hadn't made him take again. But other than that, it was a holocomm on birthdays and a transfer of credits to hopefully help Wane retire someday.

Credits like the ones he could send once they were done with this job. Credits like the ones Thalia promised. Promised him, Eddie Moonsun of Bracca, the planet he left behind and had barely mentioned to anyone outside of his crew. His friends.

How had she known that fact? And why were they telling her more? What were they doing? Sitting around telling stories, telling secrets, instead of doing the job that would be paid to do?

"Work got pretty lean by the time the rest of us graduated," Dayv continued with a distasteful grunt. "The Engineering Guild turned into the Scrapper Guild. The Empire decided they didn't want recycled ships after the war was over."

"So we all worked on fixing up the old corvette."

"And that's the ship we still use today."

"The Dragonborn," G'areth said with a dramatic flair, hands waving enticingly.

Eddie's friends started to talk about their trip to Coruscant and their first job, but he decided enough was enough. Everyone went silent as he stood from his seat and adjusted his jacket; they all stared at him expectantly.

What were they expecting? What did he expect? He should just call it off once and for all...but for some reason, he couldn't.

He didn’t want to do this. But he knew he had to.

"And the rest," he concluded with an air of finality, "is history. Now, are we gonna sit around here all day? Or are we going to get your cargo off of this blasted planet?"

Eddie leaned against the hull of his ship as he observed the droids that zipped around Deucalon Spaceport.

He was used to a lot of chaos and commotion in the hangars. There were ships guided in and out, and passengers and cargo being loaded and unloaded. Someone a few bays down was arguing with a customs droid and angry Huttese echoed off the durasteel walls; Eddie wasn't much of a betting man but if things didn't cool off soon, he might almost expect blaster fire.

However, the most important thing that he needed to keep his attention on was the cargo being loaded off the Assob's shiny Rendili freighter.

It was an unassuming container, a rectangular cuboid twice as tall as he was, if he could guess. He figured it was the size of his childhood bedroom, which was to say that it didn't look very big at all. It didn't look very suspicious either, or like it contained something that desperately needed to get off-planet.

But that was the whole point of smuggling, wasn't it? To avoid suspicion or detection?

As the singular container was repulsorlifted away from the Assob's ship, Eddie expected more to be unloaded. A second container, maybe a third. But the loading ramp soon shut with a satisfying hiss.

That was it? Must have been one hell of a container.

Thalia walked alongside Dayv, Merg, and the traffic controller that was overseeing the transfer. She stopped beside Eddie as the others loaded the container into the Dragonborn's cargo bay.

"G'areth made a new friend," she told him in an amused tone. "Mott has a whole team of pit droids and G'ar helped one with a stuck clamp. I've never seen a droid with a crush before, but there's a first time for everything."

"You made all this fuss over one measly container," Eddie scoffed and ignored her story. "What's in it?"

Thalia's smile dropped and her eyes hardened.

"Need to know." Her response was curt and sharp, and Eddie could practically feel the phantom jab of a finger against his sternum, even though her hands were clenched around the straps of her bag.

"Well, I'm letting it on my ship," he snarked back at her. "So I need to know."

And he was sure that she would fold. It wasn't an outrageous thing for the captain of the ship you hired to smuggle something onto the capital of the Empire to know just what it was he was about to smuggle. With a container that small, it couldn't be anything outrageous either. Spice, weapons, credits, artifacts...that's really all it could be. Maybe a few speeder bikes? It wasn't even large enough to fit a decently-sized speeder.

Kriff, he'd even settle for knowing who hired Thalia! She'd called herself a freelancer, right? She helped someone get something somewhere. He knew where it was going, he would either like to know the who or the what.

The longer he stared at her and waited for an answer, he should have realized that he wasn't going to get it.

For the second time in the past 24 hours, she looked nervous; her otherwise cool and confident facade faltered. She worried her bottom lip for a moment and her eyes darted to the loading ramp where the container was being lifted in.

Then she looked back at Eddie.

"I'll pay extra," she said. "If you stop asking about what's inside."

Eddie felt a hot annoyance ignite in his chest.

"See," he pushed himself off the hull and took a step closer, "these are all terms that we should have discussed before I agreed to this job. All the little extras you seem to want, how much that'll affect my crew's cut of the payoff, who we're working for—"

"You're working for me," Thalia cut him off to respond.

"Then who are you working for?" Eddie asked sharply, and then sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Oh, sorry, is that 'need to know' too?"

Thalia's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth and she exhaled sharply out of her nose.

"As a matter of fact, it is," she replied after a beat.

"And you're gonna pay me not to ask about that either, right?"

"Sure am."

"Fine."

"Alright," Merg clapped her hands, ignorant of the glaring contest Eddie and Thalia were engaged in. "She's all loaded up. All of the forms are in order. That is to say...the forms don't exist."

There was another beat of silence, and an unexpected twitch in the corner of Eddie's eye, then Thalia broke eye contact and turned to the Theelin.

"Thanks for everything," she said gratefully. "You guys know it means the world to me when you help me out in a pinch."

"Thanks for having extra credits when you're in a pinch," Merg winked. She looked over at Eddie. "You take care of our girl, huh Moonsun? I know we're pals now, but I don't want to have to put a bounty on your head."

Merg turned on her heel and walked back to her ship with the wave of a hand as a farewell.

Eddie folded his arms across his chest and took another step closer to Thalia.

"What did she mean, 'take care of our girl?'" he asked, almost afraid of the answer

"It means exactly what you think it means," Thalia snorted. "Don't let anything happen to me. Or the cargo. But, mostly me; Merg is very protective."

"And why would good ol' Merg think I have anything to do with protecting you?" Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, but she simply smiled innocently.

Condescendingly.

"Listen, lady," Eddie started. "I don't know who you think you are, but you were not a part of this deal. None of this was a part of this deal. My crew and I are smuggling cargo for you. Suddenly we're not supposed to know what it is or who wants it? Fine. But this is where I draw the line. So get your cute little uniform back on and get on a Star Tours flight straight to Coruscant if you want to meet us there. You are not setting foot on my ship. And don't you dare say you'll pay extra. There aren't enough credits in the galaxy."

"You didn't just agree to this job Eddie," Thalia spat at him. "You agreed to help me, and helping me means that that container doesn't get within a parsec of me. So I'm coming aboard your ship, whether you like it or not."

"You can't just keep adding new terms to the job because you feel like it," Eddie argued.

He was about to call his friends and tell them to off-load the container when Thalia grabbed his arm to stop him again.

But he shook her off.

He was done with her manipulative tactics, her little mind tricks. The touching and the pleading and the you're-my-only-hope. His crew might fold at the prospect of credits and a round of drinks and a pretty face, but he wouldn't. Not this time. He was the captain, this was his business, this was how he made sure he and his friends had a future...especially when the future of the galaxy seemed so grim.

"I don't know who you think I am," he snarled at Thalia. "But I'm not some rookie who's gonna let himself get walked on. And if that's the kind of service you want your highness, then I'm not the kind of smuggler you're looking for."

"You're the only smuggler I trust," she insisted.

"Trust? You don't even know me, how can you trust me? How did you even hear about me?"

"Word of mouth? Holonet? Does it really matter?" She shook her head. "But we're here now. The cargo is already loaded. Everything is set. So what's gonna get me on that ship with that container and en route to Coruscant?"

What could he say to get her to give up? A million credits? Two? But that desperation…he almost felt bad—almost—that he was gonna take a Star Tours flight attendant for all the credits she was worth. However, he knew that she wasn't just some innocent little flight attendant. She was a con artist, a criminal. Just like he was.

"I want 80% of the cut," he demanded.

There was some hesitation at first—and to be honest, Eddie thought that was such a ridiculous number that she’d simply tell him no—but eventually Thalia nodded.

"Done.”

His eyebrows jumped in surprise and he continued.

"And I'm there when you meet this mysterious benefactor you're so intent on keeping secret. That way I know I'm not getting screwed over."

"Sure. Fine. Next."

What else? What else?

"I call the shots from here on out," he continued. "No more secret and sudden demands I don't know about. I'm the captain for a reason."

He couldn't control the smirk that formed on his lips as he watched her jaw clench at that.

"What about—" she started but he cut her off.

"Ah, ah. There's no 'what abouts.' I'm the captain. You said you trust me. Then trust me. And I'll trust you."

"Then I need a failsafe," she insisted. "Some kind of clause in case you muck up the whole job. Like if the Empire does find that container."

"They won't."

"But if they do."

There was an edge to her voice, a nervousness, that put him on edge.

"They won't," Eddie repeated. "But if they do. If something happens and nothing goes horribly wrong, like the ship blowing up or something like that, then our cut goes down to 50%. Not just zero. If you're so afraid of the Empire, then that means my crew and I are taking a big risk here; 50% that's my failsafe."

Thalia looked like she wanted to say something else.

In fact, he could practically hear some of her grumbled words in his head; it wasn't a stretch to imagine, he'd heard it all before.

Instead, she sighed and held out her hand.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

Eddie grinned, slapped his hand into hers, and shook. Then, once her grip loosened, he pulled her into the crook of his arm and gestured to the loading ramp.

"Then Miss Trieste, welcome aboard the Dragonborn."

Next Chapter: Episode 3: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This

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hereforthefanficsandromance · 1 year ago

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Fan Prize Story #1: Training in the Water

Credit: FlamMabel

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Thank you @flammabel for participating in the Act II opening weekend for The Way He Looks at You. I hope you enjoy your prize!

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Master List: One Shots

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Summary

You, a former Jedi, watch Cal practice his forms. He offers to jog your memory on how to do them. Rating: 18+ Words: 2.2K

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You could hear him before you could see him. The sounds of splashing as he moved through the water, practicing, always practicing. You had been traveling with Cal for a few weeks now and his commitment to rehearsing the forms of the old ways impressed you. You knew the forms, but you practiced them much less. It was honestly embarrassing to attempt them in his presence.

Cal had helped you escape a deadly situation with the Ninth Sister. Your ability to save yourself had waned since the Purge. Lying low for years will do that to a body. You weren’t out of shape, per se, but Cal had been training more in recent years than you. Still getting to know the man, it felt awkward to ask him to teach what you both learned as padawans. So you settled for watching him move through the familiar but forgotten movements. Then sneak away to practice in your room aboard the Mantis.

Your short copper hair danced along your temples as a light breeze rustled the trees of the lush and beautiful planet. The sound of splashing grew as you neared where Cal was practicing. Your heart rate increased as you rounded the corner, exposing the handsome man.

He was wearing trousers and an undershirt that pleasantly showed off his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but let your eyes rake across each flexing inch of skin as he moved. His red hair speckled with dark stains from the water droplets he has stirred up.

Cal looks up to meet your eye as you approach. He offers you a cheeky grin and a small wave before returning to his forms. You make your way to a large flat rock by the edge of the water. The smooth stone was now heated to a comfortable temperature in the sun.

You nod your head to Cal and lounge on the rock, thinking perhaps you could meditate here. But the thought of taking your mind elsewhere when the view in front of you is so beautiful seemed impossible. So instead you watched, as you have many times before.

Mostly you tried to stay focused on learning from his movements, but your brain had other ideas. It saw each movement as more than Jedi training; it saw opportunities for how he might behave in a more intimate setting.

His long fingers, trained to coax objects into his hands using the Force, could instead coax out multiple orgasms from your aching- No. You can’t think of him like that. You barely know him. The Order fell, but you can stay true to the old ways. Though there are few Jedi left to complain if you stray.

His powerful body could save the galaxy and make you see stars, couldn’t it? It might improve morale, give him a reward for his years of hard work. Your cheeks flush at the runaway thoughts, and you focus to steady your breathing. Then you hear Cal wading out of the water and approaching your spot in the sun.

“Did you hear me?” He asks.

“Oh! No, so sorry, I was lost in, uh, thought.” You say.

Cal gives you a curious smile. “I was asking if you’d like to do forms with me in the water.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Does it have to be in the water?”

You watch as clear streams travel down his clothes and into the earth. His skin is shiny and sleek. You wouldn’t mind getting a drink off of him.

“The water resistance requires focused and precise movements. It’s a great tool for training.”

“But my clothes will get wet.”

“Don’t worry, we can lie in the sun after while they dry. Maybe just take off any layers that might slow the drying process.”

He says and gestures to his shirt lying under a nearby tree. You look between him and the article of clothing, wondering if removing your shirt is a good idea.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me taking off a layer?” You ask.

“Of course! I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I promise, practicing forms in the water is worth the time to dry.” He smiles and offers you his hand.

You accept the outstretched limb and stand with his help. Moisture moves from his hand onto yours, sharing the cool water between your bodies. Reluctantly, you release his hand to grasp the bottom hem of your shirt. You lift the fabric and remove it from your skin.

Now only in a sports bra and trousers, noticing Cal’s eyes on you. He has the good grace to look away and pretend he hadn’t stared. But you saw the look in his green eyes. The hungry way his eyes raked over your exposed flesh. This new information makes you feel bold and you feel ready to test the waters.

“I’m wearing some shorts under my pants. I’d rather not have to wait for them to dry, so if it’s okay with you, I’ll take them off as well.” You glance up into Cal’s eyes as you ask the loaded question.

Cal swallows hard and nods, keeping his eyes trained on your face. He appears to be fighting an internal battle.

“That’s great! It’s fine, I mean. Whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He stumbles over his words.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and pull the fabric down to your ankles, stepping out of them. Leaving the clothes on the warm rock. You glance at Cal, and he looks anywhere but at you, his pale skin now burning red.

“I’m ready.”

“Right, um, lead the way.” He says.

You give a small smile, but are internally beaming. There is no doubt in your mind that he is going to check you out as you walk ahead of him. You pass the nervous man, barely brushing your arm against his as you begin the walk towards the water’s edge. Knowingly, you sway your hips a bit more than normal as you walk, giving the other Jedi a small show.

As you step into the shallow water, you turn to look at Cal. All you see is panic in his eyes as he rushes into the water until waist deep. You take your time moving into the water, allowing your skin to disappear gracefully into the blue lake. Cal watches you move, but occasionally glances down into the water directly below him, then shifting.

“The form you were doing, I struggle with this part.” You say, trying to offer a distraction.

You move through the form before getting to the troublesome part where you aren’t sure how to position your left arm to carry the right arm forward uninterrupted. Cal takes the welcome distraction and focuses on helping you. He tries a few times to talk you through the process before it happens. He approaches you in the water, realizing that you need more help than just verbal instruction.

“Like this,” He says gently while stepping behind you and placing a hand on each arm.

Your skin lights up at the touch, allowing him to guide your movements through the tricky part. You become distracted by his touch and fumble, twisting around to apologize. As you turn to face Cal, your thigh brushes against something firm.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you brought your lightsaber in here. Do I need mine? I left it back with my clothes.” You say, embarrassed that you joined in practice so unprepared.

Cal turns deep red. “That’s not…I, uh, also left my lightsaber with my shirt.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you…are you…um…”

“You’re pretty.” He mumbles.

“You are too.”

He cocks his head and gives a half smile. “You think so?”

You bite your lip and glance down before looking into his crinkled eyes. “It’s honestly distracting.”

“My sentiments exactly.” He lets out a laugh.

His hands are still on your arms, frozen from a forgotten moment. You take a chance and rest your hands on his chest, facing him entirely. Cal repositions his hands, resting on your hips.

“Can I…” He trails off.

You nod, not needing to hear more. Cal wastes no time leaning down to brush his lips against yours. Electricity sparks in your body as he kisses you harder. His hands grip you tighter and pull you flush against his body. The angle proving that it was not a lightsaber you felt earlier.

You kiss him back with equal force, wanting him as much as he wants you. Cal wraps his arms all the way around you and steps back, falling deeper into the water, pulling you in with him. You let out a small squeal as you fall, landing softly on his chest as he partially floats.

“Cal, are you sure?”

He nods once then resumes kissing you deeply, his tongue moving in past your lips. You let out a small moan, encouraging him. He breaks the kiss, looking at you with hooded eyes, his pupils dilated and lustful. Cal moves in to kiss down the side of your neck. You tilt your head, and he fills the new void. His hands move up from your waist to figure out how to remove your bra.

You giggle as he struggles, and he sinks his teeth into the base of your neck in response. The sounds of laughter changing to something more primal and needy. He finally frees your body of the offending fabric and pulls away to watch your breasts spill into the water.

His eyes light up and he leans forward to take one into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue at the sensitive bud. You throw your head back as he works, his other hand snaking up to play with the ignored nipple, pinching and twisting to your delight.

“Cal.” Escape your lips.

You feel him smile against your skin at hearing his name while he pleasures you. Trying to return the favor, your hands move down to his waistband and push them down over his hips, freeing his hard length. You wrap your fingers around him and immediately hear a strangled sound from the man suckling at your breast. Slowly pumping him beneath the water, you imagine what it must look like.

Thoughts interrupted by his expert fingers pushing under your elastic shorts and searching between your legs. He brushes your clit as he finds your weeping hole and you let out a groan. Cal draws back away from the wetness and tries to find the small bud that made you cry out. He wants to hear you make more noise.

He finds the spot, and you cry out his name again. Cal settles into position and rubs deliberate circles around the bundle of nerves. You let loose an array of noises and barely audible swears.

Cal keeps his eyes focused on your face, fascinated by the way his fingers are affecting your body. His other hand travels down to free you of your shorts. Once you kick them off, he uses the Force to pull them from the water and send them to the edge of the shore. His trousers following soon after.

You release his cock to pull his soaked shirt up over his body, causing his fingers to leave your body for a moment. His hair is messy and wet, his incredible physique is now on full display. He gives you a boyish smile and you feel weak at the knees.

Cal pulls you close again, and you wrap your legs around him. His tip pressing against your entrance, you look at him and nod and he pushes in a few inches. You both press your foreheads together as you experience this new and wonderful sensation.

“You feel so good. It’s really…good.” He says in a hazy lust.

Cal reaches between your bodies to pull more sounds from your mouth as he successfully finds your clit again. Your moans give him the permission he needs to thrust repeatedly into your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and meet his movements. It doesn’t take long until you are both panting and approaching your edge. Cal’s fingers become more frantic, trying to time your pleasure with his own.

“Cal, please, I’m close.” You say.

“Me too. You’re incredible. I should have offered to help you with your forms sooner.”

“You can help me with my forms daily if it ends like this.”

A coy smile crosses his lips as he pumps forcefully a few more times. You grip his shoulders hard as your orgasm arrives. Your core squeezing and gripping at the Jedi inside you. Cal swears under his breath as his thrusts slow and grow sloppy. You feel his own release as he fills you with his desire.

You both stay in the water, just enjoying being so close to one another. Finally, he slides out and carries you to shore, your legs still wrapped around him. Cal takes you to the large rock and sets you down before sitting next to you.

“I promised you we would dry in the sun.” He offers a shy smile. “Maybe we could keep working on things out here. I’d like to hear those noises again.”

Cal doesn’t stop his work until you are both as dry as you’ll likely be.

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#cal kestis smut #cal kestis x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #smut #jedi survivor fanfiction #star wars jedi survivor #sw jedi survivor #star wars jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #hereforthefanficsandromanceworks

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