#breaking my silence… i do not like the tinted visor……. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nabtime · 1 year ago

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Our Empty Graves XII

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 12: with my eyes wide open im dreaming (darling do I deserve such a break?)

Chapter Summary: Recovery, cooking lessons, and an odd dream.

Chapter Notes: title from With My Eyes Wide Open I'm Dreaming by Patti Page Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 13 // Spotify

They got back from Doctor Leslie’s clinic after she’d kicked them out in the early hours of the morning. Danny couldn’t really tell you which day or how long they’d been in her clinic, but he could tell you it was early. Too damn early for anything, let alone traversing the back-streets of Gotham and hoping no one tried to jump them while Red’s hands were tied. He carefully directed Danny down the streets and made sure he didn’t get lost as they made their way to one of Red’s safe-houses. From what he was able to tell it looked like the same one he’d first been brought to, the one he was most familiar with. The one that looked the most lived in.

They both collapsed on the couch and didn’t move for a long while, neither of them dropping off to sleep like they should have- just trying to process everything.

Danny chose to stare at the ceiling, the colors of everything around him seemed so bright- no matter how often he’d had his tinted visor off lately, it was still something he wasn’t used to. He’d... existed, for so long, with everything in shadows and bathed in a sheen of darkness. His face felt naked and vulnerable to the world.

He didn’t want to put it back on, though. Which was a new and terrifying feeling.

He chose to ignore it and bask in the silence of the apartment, the only sounds being the hum of the appliances and the distant hustle of the city. There was a surprising lack of screaming and sirens that usually plagued Gotham, probably from the ungodly early hour. Even the terror of Gotham had to sleep sometimes- the rogues and the bats all tucked away all nice in bed while the normies went about their day.

What a wild place he’d landed in.

He hoped that explosion hadn’t hurt anyone else. He’d been far too distracted by making sure Red made it out okay that he didn’t even think to look for any other casualties. Although, he was pretty certain no one else liked to hang around the carnival themed area of the docks so the likelihood of any others getting caught in the blast was low. But not zero. Whatever the case, it was too late now- the cleanup and aftermath having long since passed. Whatever bodies there may or may not have been weren’t something he could help with now. It wasn’t something he particularly want to think about either. (There seemed to be quite a few things that he didn’t want to think about.)

He thought, instead, about what to do with Red’s hands. As a ghost, Danny had some semblance of accelerated healing. So, theoretically, since Hood was also ghost-adjacent, he could have accelerated healing too. Maybe Danny could jump-start the process? Figure out a way to blast his hands with enough regenerative ectoplasm that it fixed them all shiny and new instead of making them radioactive? He also needed to take care of that poison pooling in the other’s chest. He didn’t like it. He’d never encountered ectoplasm that was so rancid before. Usually you could tell the intent of the stuff by the smell or the taste- some instinctual sense ghosts had to tell one type of goo from another. The stuff Hood had felt like nothing but pure malice. It had no other purpose but to hurt.

It was close enough to ectoplasm to bring the other back to life (if that’s even what did it in the first place) and give Red some ghostly attributes (like purring!) so it stood to reason that pure or at least regenerative ecto would fix it. But would flushing his system with it work? Would it eradicate the poisoned ecto or would that have to be removed first for it all to work? Would anything even happen at all? Would any of it help or would trying to do any of that just kill him all the way? Red had been alive with the bad-goo for this long without much consequence, who’s to say it even needed to be removed at all?

Danny didn’t know. Danny didn’t even have the slightest clue. He wasn’t a doctor. He wasn’t an expert. All he had were questions and shoddy speculations. Nothing he could test. Nothing he would dare mention to Red in case it went horribly, horribly wrong.

It would be fine as it was for now. Probably. Hood would just have to deal with his hands healing at a normal human rate, no matter how long and terrible that was.

They sat for a good while longer. Danny in a slowly growing panic and Red nearly dropping off to sleep right there on the couch a few times.

Then the awkwardness began. The first hurdle they’d have to jump while Danny cared for the other during recovery.

Red pulled himself from the couch with a prolonged groan- movement slow and likely agonizing. He didn’t move further, just shuffled from foot to foot in discomfort and looked into the distance with the most despondent look he’d ever seen on the other man’s face. Danny sat up and studied him, waiting for a cue to guess where he could help.

“I have to go,” Red whispered, voice wrecked from his sore throat and the pure helplessness in his tone.

They had a silent stand off. Hood glared at his hands, then Danny, then the bathroom door just down the hall before he circled back to his hands. He didn’t appreciate Danny’s silent huff of laughter at the action.

Danny rolled his eyes and held up a hand, holding up one finger and then two and tilting his head in question.

Red sighed. “One,” he said tersely.

Danny shrugged a bit, hauling himself up from the couch. Then he stepped closer, looking up into Red’s widening baby-blues with a smirk. Gently, he undid the tie to Red’s sweatpants and loosened them, then stepped back. He waved toward the bathroom and then mimed shimmying pants down using his elbows and then sitting, trusting Hood would get the message without him having to spell it out.

Red squinted at him before the light-bulb seemed to go off. “Fucking genius,” he muttered before speed-walking for the bathroom- happy he could do that by himself at least.

(How he got his pants back on without Danny’s help was a bit of a mystery, but none of the bandages had been disturbed so he let it go.)

Red Hood was a stubborn man. Danny already knew this, but trying to take care of him and make sure he didn’t use his hands only made it clearer. Hood was a stubborn bastard dead set on self-sabotaging his recovery.

He refused help wherever he thought he could get away with it and tried to sneak in doing tasks that he knew he couldn’t do on his own anyway. Danny had caught him multiple times trying to do things he shouldn’t- like attempting to get plastic over the wrappings on his hands in order to do dishes when Danny wasn’t looking. Kudos to him for thinking to protect the wrappings from getting wet, but he was still in trouble because he was putting undue pressure on his broken hands. Danny had also caught the man trying to put on his Hood Helmet™ and crawl out the window! He’d had a very stern “talk” with him after that- Danny threatened to take Red’s hands off himself if he tried that again.

It was all incredibly awkward at first. There were quite a few things you couldn’t do on your own if you didn’t have hands- not if you weren’t used to it- not without tools. And Danny had to be there to help him with all of it. He didn’t mind it- not really. It was a little odd with how intimate it felt, but he liked taking care of Red. That protective part of his core hummed with satisfaction at being able to keep Red healthy and safe. He was also perfectly happy to let Red have as much independence he could manage without using his hands- if he could use his elbows or feet or whatever other appendage or makeshift tool for the task then Danny would let him. He was surprisingly resourceful so long as Danny made sure he wasn’t trying to push himself past his limits.

Their second big hurdle came with dinner.

Danny caught him trying to fumble with cooking utensils in the kitchen. He knew his cooking wasn’t that great, but come on! It wasn’t that bad! None of his food reanimated and he took that as a win.

“Ghoul boy,” Hood said after Danny had thrown a tantrum and pushed him into one of the rickety kitchen chairs and glared at him with his hands on his hips on accusation, “I’m tired of take-out. It’s been two weeks. And I don’t trust you to cook on your own after what happened with the bagels last Wednesday.”

Danny silently scoffed and threw a careless hand to the side. So I’d burned a few bagels. So, what?

Red glared. “You destroyed my toaster and nearly set the apartment on fire. The toaster isn’t even supposed to get that hot, let alone burst into flames that can’t be put out by a regular fire extinguisher. We had to toss it out the window and hope for the best! I don’t even know how you did that!”

Okay, so, maybe it was a bit worse than burning the bagels. But still! He could do something simpler! He huffed and threw his hands in the air. I could pour cereal without setting it on fire! Probably!

“You absolutely would find a way to set cereal on fire and you know it, Spooks,” Red retorted, irritated but also vaguely amused.

Danny deflated a bit before flopping into the other rickety old kitchen chair, scratching dejectedly at the sleek dark wood of the itty-bitty table the chairs surrounded. It sat in a small corner of the kitchen and was what counted for a dining room in the small apartment.

The apartment itself was small and cozy- it felt a little lived in- even if it was still pretty barren. The kitchen was well stocked with utensils and appliances (fancy ones that Danny definitely never wanted to touch for fear of either breaking them or them breaking him), if not always stocked well with ingredients. There were extra blankets and pillows for the second-hand couch- all in bland colors and made of cheap material. It screamed of a temporary place, something put together with minimal thought and expense- always meant to be a safe-house instead of a home. Not to mention the cache of weapons and tools that took up the entirety of the guest room. And the industrial strength first-aid kit supplies stocked in with them. He’d only glimpsed the room once, Hood showing him briefly when he’d apologized about not having any extra space. Danny’d shrugged- he slept in a tree most times, he could stand the couch.

Red interrupted his wandering thoughts with a question he didn’t particularly want to think about. “How’d you manage to be so bad at cooking in the first place? You eat, even as a ghost, so have you just been foraging around the forest all this time, like some undead squirrel?”

Danny huffed some semblance of a laugh before sighing. The question had an answer, there was absolutely a reason he was so bad in the kitchen, but did he want to share it? Show such a sad piece of himself to Red Hood? He stared down at the table as he tapped a slow rhythm on the wood. He couldn’t feel it under his fingertips, even without his gloves on. He debated for a bit before pulling the marker and whiteboard from his chest. He hesitated, fiddling with the cap and making no move to write.

There was a soft hum from Red and he looked up to see the other staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face.

“I’ve always liked cooking,” he said, voice soft and distant. “Even when I was bad at it, even when I didn’t know what I was doing, and even when I was only doing it because if I didn’t then I wouldn’t be fed.”

Danny felt his core let loose a small mourning croon before he could stop himself, the sound not unlike a dove’s churr. He quickly slapped his hands over his mouth (like that was even where the sound had come from) and tried hard to fight off a blush.

Red let out a short laugh at him, his eyes focused on Danny now instead of some long-away point in his past. Red’s grin slipped, though, as he continued.

“Growing up in Crime Alley is tough. Even tougher with a shitty dad and a mom that couldn’t control her drug use. She tried her best, but her good moments- where she was coherent and cared- were few and far between,” he said before smiling a bit. “The neighbors would step in, sometimes, if I bugged them enough. If they were friendly enough. Learned a lot of different recipes that way, too. All kinds of folk can end up down here, on the ground floor of Gotham.”

He sighed. “Really had to learn to fend for myself when I was inevitably orphaned.”

Danny didn’t like the way he said that. Like it had only been a matter of time before he was left to the mercy of the streets. Like it was the expected outcome. Like it was an everyday occurrence. Or- like he had deserved it. Like the circumstances had been his fault. He crooned again, lifting up from his chair and reaching out.

He placed a hand over Red’s forearm, wanting desperately to hold his hand instead, but trying to give comfort where he could anyway. Hood laughed softly at his efforts and smiled at him.

“I wasn’t orphaned for long, Spooks,” he said, using his wrist to pat at Danny’s hand to let him know it was okay. “I got picked up eventually.” And then his face twisted into a grimace, a complicated series of emotions flashing across his face before he shook his head to clear it. “B wasn’t ever allowed in the kitchen, but Alfred taught me all kinds of tricks and tips and dishes to make. I miss it sometimes, honestly.”

Danny floated closer, lifting fully out of his chair to lean against Hood’s side, offering silent support. He didn’t ask, not wanting to bring up bad memories and knowing full well how painful it could be to think back on the good times before you died. Most times it was worse than thinking about the bad times; because you knew it would never be the same. That you could never, ever, go back to those times. Death, even temporary as it had been for both of them, was a force of finality. A curtain closing around your life as you knew it. Dying changed you.

Red smiled and leaned down to press his forehead to the top of Danny’s head where the foggy wisps of his hair licked at Hood’s shoulder. Danny just nuzzled him further before pulling back and picking up the board again. He wouldn’t share everything, but he could share a little. Just like Red had. He tapped the board for a bit before deciding on what to write, appreciating the quiet patience of the other beside him as he waited.

My dad was really bad at cooking- unless it was fudge. And my mom wasn’t too bad at it, but she’d get distracted a lot and end up burning things. And then she and dad would hole up in the lab most days anyway. It didn’t help that they would store specimen samples in the fridge next to the food either. My older sister tried her best, but she was too young for most of the big appliances at first and no one was around to teach either of us most of the time.

He decided to leave it at that. He didn’t want to go into the times the food came back to life. Didn’t want to think about how many thanksgivings and holidays had been ruined from the turkey reanimating and besieging the house or the cookies going up in flames and almost burning everything to the ground. Didn’t want to think about all the times Jazz had burned herself trying to keep them fed with something decent or how often she’d had to beat the blender into submission with the Fenton Creep Stick. He couldn’t look at a toaster without shuddering- probably why Red’s had combusted like that, actually- not after one had tried to eat him alive when he was five.

Red nudged Danny’s arm with his elbow, offering a silent comfort just like Danny had done for him. He also didn’t ask further, letting the knowledge sit between the both of them. Red hadn’t had a good childhood and Danny hadn’t had a particularly stellar one either. It’d taken time and perspective for him to come to that conclusion- about how his parents hadn’t been as good as they probably should have been. And that wasn’t even to mention what happened after the accident.

He caught Red looking thoughtfully down at the main jumpsuit of the hazmat he still wore, and heard the soft murmur of, “A lab, huh?” before Red sighed and slumped over the back of his chair. His huge muscley bulk made it creak ominously.

“Alright,” Hood declared, pushing himself up from the table and attempting to put his hands on his hips before thinking better of it. “Cooking lessons it is, then.”

What? Danny stood fully and moved to stand in front of Red while drawing a frantic question mark in the air. How the hell did he expect to do this without hands?!

Red shrugged. “I’m going to tell you what to do and you’re going to do it. Carefully and with strict supervision. And you might want to go ahead and grab the fire-extinguisher.”

Danny stared. This was not going to end well.

Oh well, it wasn’t his kitchen at risk here. He did grab the extinguisher, though.

“Open up the fridge and the cabinets, Jellyfish. I gotta see what we’re working with here.”

Danny did so, floating a little bit in order to reach the top shelves and ignoring Hood’s soft snicker at the action. Damn tall people. He stood back and watched as Hood went around, muttering to himself as he compared different ingredients- what little they had- and only occasionally asking Danny to pick something up and check its expiration date.

“The andouille’s still good, we have rice, and the spices are all in date- even if they’re not fresh,” he heard Red murmur as he paced around the small space in the kitchen, Danny now floating over the table to keep out of his way. “No aromatics, though. Didn’t have a reason to keep fresh produce. Miracle at all that I even had sausage and broth.”

He paced back towards one of the cabinets, lifting a hand before pulling it back when Danny made a move to lunge and stop him. He grumbled before using an elbow to shift the cans around himself.

“Tomatoes,” he said, nudging a can to the front and picking it up between his elbows to place on the counter, “so creole style.”

Danny would forever be impressed with how much Red had learned to improvise in the two weeks without his hands so far. The man had been put out at first but he was quickly learning everything he could and couldn’t do and what he could manage in more- creative ways.

The table was already littered with several ingredients, ready to be put to use once Red was finally done obsessing over having everything they needed. Oil, sausage, a bag of long grain rice, a box of chicken broth, a bottle of hot sauce and another of worcestershire, and several different spices and seasonings. One was labeled Cajun, so he assumed they were cooking something spicy.

“Fetch!” Hood barked, causing Danny to startle out of his floating and almost fall- barely catching himself before he hit the table. He looked up to see Red grinning at him and stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

“Grab my phone for me, would ya?” Hood asked before turning back around and assessing the bare cabinets yet again.

It had become a pretty common thing between them, Hood trusting Danny with his phone to text and help make calls. It was the only way Hood was allowed to still run his criminal empire- from a distance, and in turn Danny was trusted with the passcode and access to everything. Red had a surprising amount of numbers saved in there- always a person for something or another. Just as many numbers for Grannies around the Alley as there were for the gang members in his crew. Danny knew Hood was trying to build a community- trying to make things better in every way, but it was still astounding to see.

He’d called Nadi early on that way too. Yes, Hood had had to do the talking and Nadi had chewed him out real good before busting down the door to the apartment to make sure Danny was okay, but he hadn’t wanted to let her worry. She’d taken Red by the ear and chewed him out some more after fussing over Danny- telling Hood that the only reason she wasn’t tearing him a new asshole was because he’d already done that himself. He’d been surprised that Red had been willing to let her see him without his helmet- he’d still slapped a mask on but still. And even more surprised that he’d let her know the address to the apartment. It spoke a lot of the trust he had in both Danny and Nadi. He was in a particularly vulnerable spot with his injuries- yet he’d let them in.

He grabbed the phone from corner of the living room that had a tiny little table next to an open outlet with a charger plugged in. Hood had multiple phones- most of them burners- but this one was the main one so it got it’s own special little place. He popped it off the charger and skipped back into the kitchen, unlocking it and holding it up for Red to see.

He nodded and said distractedly, “Call Mama Pourciau for me, please? I’m hoping she has some of the ingredients we’re missing.”

Danny did as told, scrolling through the frankly huge list of contacts until he got to Mama Pourciau and clicked the call icon. He put it on speaker and held it close to Hood so he could talk comfortably. He wondered idly what they’d be making.

Well, he wasn’t about to find out through the phone call because Red was not speaking English while talking with Mama Pourciau. If he had to guess, he’d say French- but it also sounded different to any French he’d heard before. He’d have to ask later what language it was.

He zoned out while watching Red talk, his voice nice as it wrapped around words he’d never heard before- the accent of them pleasing in a way Danny never thought he’d have a thing for. And then the call ended on Mama P’s end and Hood was smirking at him over the dial tone.

He shook his head and gave Hood a sheepish look, floating back over to the living room to put the phone away in order to avoid the teasing light in his eyes.

“She’s going to be bringing a few ingredients by, so keep an ear out for the door. She didn’t have everything but it’ll do in a pinch,” he said and then paused and hummed thoughtfully. “Go find those blankets that Mrs. Almeida dropped off the other day, too. Mama Pourciau’s daughter had a baby a few months ago and those should do as payment.”

Danny grinned and gave a jaunty salute before hopping away to hunt down the downy-soft blankets Mrs. Almeida had knitted and brought over for them in thanks for paying her son’s bail last week. Joao had done nothing wrong and Mrs. Almeida had been beside herself when the GCPD had tackled him and taken him in. Danny himself had gone down to the precinct and haunted the shit out of them in retribution.

Most people in the Alley seemed to work within a complex network of barter and trade, working with each other to cover each other’s needs. At least, now that Hood was making sure there weren’t any trouble-makers to disrupt it they were. And he kept the cops away from things that weren’t their business. Before the Alley had seemed to be a free-for-all. An every-man-for-himself type of place full of cruelty and despair. Now, slowly, it was building into a community. Something beautiful.

When Mama Pourciau knocked on the door, Danny answered with a grin and an armful of brightly-colored blankets. The older woman-stout and dark skin lined with age- had cooed and kissed his cheeks and traded burdens with ease. She hadn’t flinched at all at the sight of his fangs when he smiled. Hadn’t even hesitated to hug his colder body, her warm one smelling like coco butter and spices. She just patted him on the cheek and told him he was a sweet boy with her pretty accent and then told him to tell Red Hood that she’d be happy to send him recipes any time.

He nodded, awed at her response to his monstrous nature and waved with his hands full of groceries as she left. He felt dazed as he made his way back into the kitchen.

Red laughed at the look on his face when he came back. “Komik,” he said softly, shaking his head before gesturing for Danny to put the bags on the table to join the other ingredients.

“Cooking one oh one,” he started. “Fancy cooking, at least, starts by making your mise en place.”

Danny stared blankly and waited for Hood to explain what that was. He didn’t know any French, thanks. He’d barely learned any Spanish in high school before he’d had to drop out. Thankfully, Red knew full well he was an idiot already.

“You gather everything you need, measure it all out, and have it handy for when you’re ready to put it all together,” he continued without any judgment in his tone. “So lets see what Mama P was able to scrounge up and put it all together.”

Danny pulled everything out one by one, Hood naming each ingredient as he did so. Onions, green and red bell peppers, celery, garlic, dried oregano and thyme, okra, and even a small amount of shrimp.

“Ooh,” he said when Danny’d pulled out the shrimp. “I’m gonna have to get that woman something more than blankets for that. Didn’t ask her for any shrimp, sneaky minx.”

Danny had spluttered at the phrase, almost dropping the shrimp in the process. Who the hell called a sweet old lady like Mama Pourciau a minx?

Red laughed at Danny’s fumbling but then mumbled, “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Danny rolled his eyes before miming closing a zipper over his mouth.

“Alright,” Hood said, stepping over to the cabinets and drawers and pulling one open with his elbow. “Time to slice, dice, and measure.”

Danny pulled all the tools they would need per Hood’s instructions, making sure to follow along and pay attention. He was determined not to set anything on fire this time. Right now, thankfully, they weren’t working with heat yet, just chopping and putting everything together. Pulling out things like a Dutch oven and setting it aside. Measuring cups of rice and broth and using little spoons for the spices that were then put in little cups. It was fascinating. It was… nice.

Danny didn’t know cooking could be like this. Slow and methodical and soothing. There was no yelling here- no shouting about sentient hot dogs or being careful with the stove that he was too small to use. There was no uncertainty here- no guessing and guessing wrong about the basics and ending up with inedible accidents or stinging burns. Just him, Hood’s low, patient voice, and the food slowly coming together under his hands.

Partway through, Red had them stop and look for the small radio he kept in one of the upper cabinets, wanting to listen to something while they cooked. He had Danny flip though several different stations before landing on one that played music you might be more likely to hear play from a gramophone- soft and brassy and old. He’d wanted to question it, but watching Red’s eyes close in contentment and his hips gently sway made him pause. Maybe another time. He almost nicked himself with the knife watching those hips.

“We’re going to use the stove now, jellyfish,” Hood said softly as he nudged Danny with one of those distracting hips. “You ready for that?”

He shrugged. Maybe another time he’d be nervous, certain something would catch fire, but with Red showing him what to do and how, he felt pretty confident he wouldn’t mess up so badly this time. He bumped his own hip against Red’s and moved all the things they’d be sauteing next to the stove as the other told him to.

He browned the andouille, no problem, and then spooned it out for later. He poured in the onion, bell pepper, and celery, smiling as he stirred and relished in the delicious smell. Cooking had never smelled so good before- not when he was the one at the helm like this. It was something he could get used to if it went this well each time. It felt far more relaxing than he’d ever thought it could. He was used to the kitchen being a war-zone, full of screaming and fighting and chaos. This was nothing like that here now; just the soft sizzle of the food, gentle strains of old slow jazz, and the low murmur of Red’s instructions.

Hood hummed, pressing close behind him- chest to back, and hooked his chin on Danny’s shoulder. He was surprised at just how comfortable it all was. He leaned back into the embrace, just a bit, and felt his core rumble with a contented purr. Hood huffed a small laugh, but Danny could feel the echoing purr from the other’s chest against his back. Red had them both slowly swaying to the music and Danny had never felt so- warm was the only way to describe it- in his life.

“Garlic now,” Red said into his ear, “just for a little bit. Half a minute about. Till you can smell it good.”

Danny shivered and dutifully poured it in. The aroma in the kitchen was already heavenly, but it just continued to get better and better the longer they cooked. He could see why Hood liked this so much now. Eventually all the ingredients aside from the shrimp were added into the pot- Dutch oven- and all that was left was to wait while it simmered for awhile before adding them in.

It was peaceful and beautiful and if he could bottle the moment up he would. Just the smell of spices cooking on the stove and the rocking dance with Red to soft strings and trumpets. He didn’t deserve such a good moment. Something so painfully human and full of life. He didn’t deserve something so dreadfully gentle. But he wouldn’t tear himself away for the world. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he couldn’t bare to let it any of it go.

And in the end, well, they’d managed to make a pretty damn good jambalaya. Even Red said so.

═════ ◈ ═════

It wasn’t often that Danny dreamed. It wasn’t often that he slept in the first place, his ghostly nature allowing him to go for days without rest, and to dream within those handful of moments was rare. Nightmares, yes, they plagued him almost every time he couldn’t avoid dropping off to sleep any longer.

Dreams were different, though. Softer.

It should have been a nightmare, with what he was witnessing, but everything was distant and fuzzy around the edges. Like he was completely detached from the scene (the memory) he’d found himself watching from a completely different point of view. This wasn’t his memory, but it was of him, of something that often came back to haunt him.

He watched, in remote fascination, as his own clawed hand plunged into Pariah Dark’s prone chest and ripped out his core.

He’d been told by the other ghosts right before the battle, and in no uncertain terms, that taking the Tyrant King’s core was the only way to stop him. That without the original Council of Ancients to seal him away, putting him back in the Sarcophagus would do nothing. The only way for him to be defeated was to End him. And they’d all been fairly confident that Danny was the only one capable of doing it.

And hadn’t that been something? Every ghost that had ever kicked his ass had told him that he was the only one. The only one strong enough to defeat an Ancient King that had ruled over the Realms for thousands of years, that had previously only been defeated by being locked away by a group of powerful Ancients.

And he, an eighteen year old half-breed that they’d previously fought to hell and back, was their only hope.

He ran, at first. Scared out of his mind and fully believing that all his enemies were simply trying to get him to fully kill himself and act as canon fodder against Pariah to buy them all more time. Yes, he’d gotten stronger. Exponentially, every year. Especially after he abandoned the last shreds of his humanity and dedicated his full focus to developing his powers and fighting skills. He had no allies. Only four years of getting the snot beat out of him and a worryingly long list of powers that grew by the week. That wasn’t enough to kill a King. Not alone. Not by himself.

They’d found him and pulled him back, telling him his only choices were to either face the menace or be Ended himself. He hadn’t seen much choice there. They’d reluctantly laid out a plan to help him. They knew all their afterlives were at stake should he fail, but yet no one else stepped forward to do the job themselves.

The weight on his shoulders- his duty as a protector- had always been heavy. Especially when he’d just started out, when all he’d been was a scrappy fourteen year old just trying to survive. Just trying to protect the family that continually left him cold. Trying to protect the town that grew to hate him more and more. And when the GIW had invaded, it grew to protect other ghosts as well. It hadn’t been very hard, with the GIW being as incompetent as they were, but he still hadn’t wanted to see what would happen if they caught anyone. And it wasn’t like protecting the ghosts that hurt him had changed the status quo- he was far too used to saving those that would rather kill him than accept his help. But he gave it anyway.

And now they were forcing him. Telling him that despite all the animosity they’d treated him with, he was their only hope for survival. That he had to put what was left of his life at stake for them.

And he’d been so angry at first. Wanting to rage and scream and not being able to emit a single sound from within his suit. Because how dare they? How dare they pin this all on his shoulders? How dare they demand he save them after everything they’d put him through? After every fight, every taunt, every stab in the back.

And then Vlad, the idiot fruitloop that had started it all, had pulled the Fright Knight’s sword from the ground and transported the entirety of Amity Park into the Infinite Realms.

The people at the edges of his parent’s ghost shield had died. Humans couldn’t survive the Realms for long, and they could survive even less without protective measures like the shield. Not to mention however many casualties had happened when the ground itself had been rent apart with the transition.

And then the bastard had had the gall to tell Danny it was all his fault. That it was Danny’s cowardice that had killed them. Danny’s childishness that had caused everything to fall apart. He’d stood there, all smug and demeaning, pointing the sword at Danny’s chest as he placed the blame on someone else- completely disregarding how his own antics of tracking down the Ring of Rage for his own gain had been the reason Pariah was set loose in the first place. The Ring he still boasted on his finger.

It had never been more satisfying than that moment to punch the ass in his fanged blue face- the safety-goggles Vlad’d died in crunching under his fist.

The man liked to lord his superiority over everyone he came across, but especially Danny. Liked to claim that because he was the first of their kind, the first of the Halfas, and because he had years of experience and knowledge over Danny that he was better, and stronger, and smarter in every way and would always be so. That unless Danny gave in and became his student (his son), he would always, always be just a rash and ignorant boy. He liked to pretend, though, that it was also only a matter of time until Danny gave in. He used the fact that they were the same to twist the knife deeper and deeper. Insinuating that Danny’s path to becoming like him was an inevitability (and he refused to think about that).

But he was wrong; they weren’t the same. They were both Halfas, yes, but that wasn’t all they were. Danny was a Fetch, the ghost of a person still living. The true balance between life and death, a being both alive and dead in an even split. Vlad was a Draugr, a vengeful ghost with a corporeal body. There was still a part of Vlad that was living, however small, which classified him as a Halfa and allowed him to age the way a human would. But he was more ghost than human, even clutching to the last dregs of life within him as he was- claiming in vain he was human. Danny, on the other hand, had given up his life, denying that any part of him was still human despite the truth. Vlad was made from spite and slowly rotting flesh; Danny was made from tragedy and pure ectoplasm.

Danny had grabbed the sword from the cursing man and cut the hand that bore the Ring clean off in one vicious swipe. He’d never been so violent, never taken it that far before. And it had both felt exhilarating and terrifying. He’d shut down all feeling after that, grabbing the Ring for himself and leaving Vlad to scream and wallow in his deserved agony. They’d been lucky enough as it was that Pariah hadn’t taken the Ring from Vlad before that. With it, the King might have truly been unstoppable.

It’d been with the help of his enemies taking on the army, the Ring of Rage enhancing his Wail beyond measure, and the Sword of Nightmares slicing anything in his way, that he’d been able to fell the monster. He’d pinned Pariah to the ground with the Sword and used the enhanced strength of the Ring to dig into his chest.

(The Ring refused to leave his finger, stuck there- and forever making it impossible for him to speak without unleashing a world-ending wail. It stayed invisible most times, but he could feel it. Always.)

He watched, now, dispassionately, as a younger version of himself clutched Pariah’s core within his ectoplasm covered claws.

This was a dream, not a nightmare. He knew the difference well.

A figure appeared to his left, shrouded in a purple cloak and dark shadows, nothing of their face to be seen but deep red glow of their eyes- similar to the eye-shine of a predator in the dark. He knew the figure, but he couldn’t quite place from where. It was a memory on the edge of his mind, but he didn’t struggle too hard to grasp it. This was still just a dream.

The figure said nothing for a time, the both of them just continuing to watch the wretched memory play out. They watched Danny crush the core to dust, watched Pariah’s body melt horrifically slowly as he screamed, watched as Danny pulled the Sword from the King’s body and plunged it back into the ground. Watched as he fell to his knees in despair when nothing happened- when Amity remained trapped forever in the Realms.

“Why this?” he asked of the figure, wanting to look away, but unable.

“A warning,” the other said, voice smooth and even with the softest curl of a lisp at the edges. “A reminder.”

“Of what?” he asked, knowing he wasn’t likely to get an answer. Because that’s how all of this bullshit ever worked. Never any answers, never any real help.

“All will be revealed in time,” the other said, pulling a staff from the depths of their cloak and tapping it on the grass beneath their feet.

And then Danny woke up, disoriented and head fuzzy with sleep, the dream slipping from his mind the longer he tried to think of it, until it was nothing but a disquieting echo.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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treesnutsandleaveswrites · 3 years ago

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Rescue Mission

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)

Summary: The Batch agrees to help Hera save her parents; you encounter a familiar face

Warning: angst, TW: PTSD episode, TW: panic/anxiety attack, mentions of shooting and violence

Word Count: 2048

A/N: Won't be updating constantly, but sorry for keeping you all waiting

pt xvi, pt xviii

XXXXXXX

You and the Batch were looking over the city's capitol, trying to figure out what’s going on. You looked through one of your sniper scopes, having detached it from your rifle, and observed the heavily guarded area. Some people started to gather as Admiral Rampart made an announcement, which you listened to through Chopper’s satellite.

“Citizens of Ryloth, the shocking attack of your beloved Senator has left you shaken, but Orn Free Taa’s condition continues to improve and he will make a full recovery. The perpetrators of this heinous assasination attempt have been captured…”

Hunter looked up from his binoculars and over to Hera, “Assasination attempt?”

Hera shook her head, “That’s not what happened.”

You looked at Hunter for a moment before Omega spoke up.

“Hunter… Crosshair’s here.”

You took in a sharp breath as you looked through your scope and saw his familiar baster rifle and him in his new Imperial armor.

“Great. Just what we need!” Wrecker grumbled.

Hunter then gestured for the boys to huddle, so you took a bit to watch Crosshair before turning the girls.

“Keep an eye on the Capitol.” You ordered Omega and Hera, then put on your helmet before joining the boys.

“Ryloth’s not a separatist planet.” Echo said mid-coversation.

“Exactly my point.” Tech stated and went on about who knows what. You tried to listen to him, but you could see a change in Hunter’s demeanor.

“Wait here.” Hunter ordered as he rushed off.

You waited with the others before an Imperial probe droid came crashing down near all of you.

“Oh good… a probe droid.” Tech sighed.

“The Empire will know we’re here.” Echo announced.

“And so will Crosshair.” You said in unison with Hunter.

“Let’s move.” Hunter ordered, so everyone started following. Hera took a moment before being pulled by Omega with Chopper behind them. You were near frozen in your spot due to the thought of possibly reuniting with Crosshair. Echo was near the back, trying to make sure no one was left behind. He turned and saw you still in your place, then he went to you before grasping your hand tight.

“We can’t stay, mesh’la.” He insisted, which caused you to nod and follow him back to the Marauder.

You sat of the Marauder’s steps as the Batch talked with Hera.

“I told you… no guarantees. We’ll get you off world and take you somewhere safe.”

“Wait! Please!” Hera pulled at Hunter, “I’ll pay you double!”

“No money in the galaxy will matter if we’re dead! What you’re asking us to do is not worth the risk.”

Hera took a moment to look at him, “Not to you.” She rushed off. The boys started to head to the Marauder, but Omega stayed back.

“You shouldn’t have said that!”

“Being strategic means knowing your limitations, Omega.”

“She’s trying to save her family! I would do the same for you.” Omega retorted before following Hera. Hunter took a moment to process her words before turning towards the ship and seeing you still sitting on the steps. You hadn’t taken off your helmet since you got back to the base, but Hunter could sense the rigidness of your stature. He crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your helmet before gently lifting it from your head. You were pale and had tear streaks staining your cheeks. Hunter was surprised at first, but came to realise what was wrong. It was similar to your small episode in the fresher just recently. You were suffering from plasma shock… Hunter placed your helmet to the side and carefully caressed your wet skin.

“I know, cyare… I know…” He whispered before picking up your helmet, then hooking an arm around your waist to help you onto the cruiser. He sat you down and stood between your legs with his face in your hands. He did his best to coax you through the process of a plasma shock episode and made sure his attention was undivided just in case anything else happened. Once he sensed your calm breathing and heart rate, he moved away.

“I’ll be right back… just take your time, my love.” He hooked your chin endearingly before heading to the cockpit. You stay seated for a bit before Omega and Hera rushed onto the ship, straight into the cockpit. You were about the get up to see what was happening, but then D-5 rolled over to you quickly and bumped your foot.

“Star! S-s-s-star!”

You smiled weakly before picking him up and looking at him, “You haven’t broken anything have you?”

“All-all better!”

You hummed before placing him down and following his trail as he rolled into the cockpit. Yo stood at the threshold as Hunter spoke.

“Alright, you two go with Chopper as back up, but at a distance.”

The girls got excited, which caused Tech to speak up.

“By themselves?”

“Tech, Wrecker, wait until those canons are down, then move in. Echo and I will scale the Capitol wall and free Hera’s parents.” He looked down at Hera, “I guess we’re following your lead!”

Omega saw you at the threshold and grinned, “Did you hear that, Lodestar?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yeah. I know you’re just getting started with this mission stuff, but you’ve got clone blood in you. Just be careful, okay?” You approached her and cupped her face.

“Where will you be?” Hera wondered with excitement in her eyes.

“I’ll join Hunter and Echo at the Capitol. Freeing people is my thing, remember?”

Everyone looked to each other before dispersing to prepare.

*******

You walked cautiously with Hunter and Echo, approaching the walls of the Capitol. You nodded to Hunter as you all readied to scale the wall. Hunter crouched, offering you a boost before helping Echo and then jumping up himself. It was a fairly quick process and you climbed over the dursateel parapet as Hunter took out one of the guards. The other looked over the wall at Echo.

“A little help?”

Hunter got his attention as you looked at the small map of the Capitol you had downloaded through your holopad connected to your armor on your wrist. The others looked over to you before you nodded and gestured to the direction you should be going. The three of you arrived to the detention level and took out the guards then you found the cells before freeing those enclosed in them.

“What are you doing here?” Gobi Glie asked as he looked at all of you.

“Breaking you out.” Hunter explained.

“You know them?” Another male twi’lek asked who must have been Hera’s father.

“They are mercenaries, but I did not hire them for this.”

“Hera did.” Hunter stated.

“Hera? Where is she? Is she safe?” Her father asked.

Echo chuckled, “With Omega and Chopper? Let’s hope so.”

You were looking through your map again, “We should go soon, troops will be heading to the refinery by now.”

Hunter nodded before following you away from the detention level to find a safe exit. Everyone rushed down the halls but you stopped.

“What is it, Lodestar?”

“This… this is too easy.” You whispered.

“We have to go.” Cham insisted.

“No, no, I’m going to double back… see if the courtyard is clear.”

“That’s not the plan.” Hunter said sternly.

“Crosshair knows we’re here. He knows how we think. He isn’t a fool.” You argued, “I’d rather have one of us caught or killed than these innocent people we’re helping. I’m going to check the courtyard.”

You rushed away from the group before taking a detour for the upper wall again. There were troopers scouting out the exit, so you pulled out your blaster and stunned them before making your way around to get a better look. There was an overhead view on the farside of the courtyard where you could use your rifle just in case things went south. As you rushed over, you could see troopers lining up with shields and blasters, ready to attack the front gates.

“Hunter, do you copy?”

“I copy. We were just warned, we’re heading for Senator Taa’s private quarters. There’s a ship waiting there. Rendezvous back with the group.”

You stopped, eyeing a figure at the overview, “Go on without me. I’ll meet you back at the base.”

“Lode-”

You silenced your comm before pulling out the dagger you had sheathed in an underarm leather pocket. You approached carefully, trying not to make any noise. As you were getting past them, a shot near misses you. They approached out of the shadows and your heart froze. The person waiting there was Crosshair himself.

“So… Hunter has found another replacement.” He sneered through the modulator of his helmet. Your heart was pounding in your ears as he stopped just a few feet away.

“Silent too… How original.”

You gripped your dagger before sheathing it and standing there looking at him through the dark visor of your helmet.

“However, fairly stupid. Nothing like me.”

Says the one doing the Empire’s dirty work.

You took a step back as he raised his rifle again.

“At least give me a challenge.” He groaned, “You have no idea how good I am with a moving target.”

But you do…

You clenched your fist before rushing towards him and knocking the rifle out of his hands. He grunted before grasping your shoulders and tossing you into the wall. He approached you, looming over your body before pulling you by a piece of your armor and leaning you over the ledge, looking over you.

“You’re holding back… some soldier you are.” He commented quietly before taking your blaster from your belt and raising it up to the side of your helmet. Your breathing was fast and your whole body was shaking, but you still managed to raise your arm and take off your helmet quickly. Everything grew silent as he looked at you through the tinted green visor of his Imperial helmet. He dropped the arm holding your blaster and loosened his grip.

“How…”

You shoved him away forcefully before kicking the blaster out of his hands and picking it up, then shooting his rifle so it couldn’t fire. You then rushed away as he was down, making your way back to the base.

*******

It was nearly sun up when you arrived back to the valley where the base was. Omega was waiting with the Batch and Hera when she saw you. She ran up to you and hugged your midriff tight.

“I was scared you got captured by the Empire.” She admitted.

“I’m alright. Just had to make sure everyone was safe…” You replied before looking up at the others.

“We’re heading south to another city, away from Imperial scanners.” Tech explained as you approached the Marauder with her. You nodded, avoiding Hunter’s eyes and following Omega as she and Hera pulled you onto the ship.

You all arrived at the hangar of the small city before Hunter talked with Hera’s parents and the Batch was gathered around with Hera, occupying themselves. You stood to the side, still thinking about Crosshair.

“Lodestar.” Cham called and you looked up before approaching, “It has been an honor finally meeting you and working alongside you. We are all familiar with the work you have done.”

You nodded politely before Hera was called, so you walked away towards the Marauder. It was only a few minutes before the others joined you. You all filed onto the ship, but before Tech and Echo could go to the cockpit, Hunter stopped them and they all turned to you.

“What were you thinking?” Hunter pressed, crossing his arms over his chest, “You almost sabotaged the whole mission.”

You didn’t say anything, looking at him while he talked.

“You risked being caught by the Empire, Lodestar, don’t you understand that?”

You gave him a curt nod, seeing Omega’s worried eyes in your peripherals.

“Next mission, you’re staying on the ship--maybe even stay behind on Ord Mantell.” He ordered, before walking back to the cockpit. His brothers protested while following after him, but Omega stayed with you in the main Hangar.

“Lodestar? Are you alright?”

You looked at her with a nod before she went to sit as the ship started to take off.

XXXXXXX

Taglist: @darkangel4121

@lightning-wolffe

@alucas528

@rintheemolion

@shadowfoxey

@butch-medusae

@gabile18

@incandescentlywarm

@echo-is-worth-more-than-2000

@spidercrush3

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spoopyredacted · 3 years ago

Text

unheavenly creatures

chapter six

clan leader mand’alor!din x shayr’la(ofc) 1.1k

description: angst 😬 sorry?

a/n: @tiffdawg is my lifesaver. @colesterstrudel lets me send her angst and then she yells at me about it.

masterlist / pinterest / ao3

chapter one / chapter five

———

Why does it hurt?

Because you love her.

———

A soft knock reverberates through the room and Shayr’la doesn’t know if she has the strength to answer it. Luckily she doesn’t have to wait long before the Mand’alor enters the room, helmet tilted in worry.

The crackle of the vocoder warns her before he speaks. “Cyare, are you alright?”

She looks up to him but can’t answer, can’t voice what the message has said. Her throat is tight and voice is broken. She feels tears welling up again in her eyes as her gaze dances across helmet. Unable to voice what was said in the message, she presses play instead and lets the blue image deliver the blow.

She turns away when the coughing starts. Attempting to block out the noise as dread wells up inside her.

He’s stoic as the message plays and remains that way until after it ends.

Long shadows stretch across the floor as the sun sets and Shayr’la can’t drag her eyes away from watching them slowly grow in length. Not wanting to break the silence. Not afraid of him per say, but afraid of how he could change her mind.

Make her stay.

With him.

The silence is finally broken with a question. And then a tirade.

“How— how can they ask for you?”

“They left you here.”

“And now they feel bad and they reach out to you. They just want your sympathy, love.”

“Ka’ra, they don’t deserve it.”

“They don’t deserve your kindness and they don’t deserve you.”

The Mand’alor stops, realizing he has been rambling and letting his anger get to him. But he can feel the pent up frustration begin to boil and he knows if he does not get control over himself soon he will say something he regrets.

How could they ask this of her?

It’s unfair.

Shayr’la hasn’t said a word the entire time. The Mand’alor finally looks back to where she sits. Her eyes are bloodshot and rimmed red. She wipes at her cheeks, brushing away the tears that have fallen.

Taking a deep breath he asks, “Do you want to go?”

The whispered question hits her in the gut, filling her with dread. She doesn’t want to look up. Can’t. She doesn’t want to face the way heartache washes over him. To see the melancholy set in his shoulders. So she keeps her eyes cast down, focusing on her hands, twisting together in worry and anguish.

And soon to be regret.

The Mand’alor stands before her, awaiting her decision and hoping that she will refuse them. That she will want to stay here. Stay here with him. That she will say they don’t have that kind of hold on her anymore.

But the silence almost kills him.

A step closer.

He reaches out to her, tilting her head up to face him. His hand engulfs the entire side of her face and he thumbs at her bottom lip, gently prying it from the clutches of her teeth.

“Ka’ra, answer me.”

She stares into the tinted visor that is always somehow mocking her, showing her her own reflection and never the face she wants to see. She can never see, she knows this. And yet it still hurts when she catches herself longing to know the shape of his brow, or the curve of his nose and the plushness of his lips. She wants to trace over the dusting of facial hair she just knows he keeps, and she desperately wants to drag her nails along his scalp, figuring out all the noises he would make as she digs in.

But she can’t. She can’t.

He tilts her head more, not allowing her to turn away, she knows he wants an answer and he won’t let her go without one.

She knows the answer, it’s right on the tip of her tongue. But if she says it.

If she says it.

“Yes—” Shayr’la takes a shuddering inhale and looks up, unknowingly making direct eye contact, “Yes, I have to go back.”

His heart shatters.

Feels it clench and drop right to the floor.

He can’t breathe. He can’t think.

“You… you want to go back?” The barely there question lingers between them. Like something heavy and old, and now immovable.

Like something they both thought they were over.

The Mand’alor drops his hand from her face and takes a step back, turning from her.

Turning from his wife.

“Okay.” The broken whisper of his voice breaks into her heart and crawls its way inside, burrowing deep. “If that is what you wish.”

His back straightens and becomes rigid and as he acknowledges her answer… her choice, her choice, he wants to shut down and retreat.

But he won’t let himself. Not yet.

He’ll save that for later in the safety of his room.

Will she come back?

He wants her to.

But then he gets scared. And he gets mad. Rage filling his mind, slowly letting it consume him. He knows he needs to leave, he needs to walk out the room and not look back before his mouth says something it doesn’t mean.

“But tell me Ka’ra, answer me this, do you really wish to go back? Back to your Elders? Or are you letting them guilt you into going back?” There's a bite to his words— in his voice— he doesn’t know how to control it.

Stop.

“Because of some sort of honor that you feel towards them?”

Stop before it’s too late. Before you hurt her.

“Because you feel like you owe them your time? Your attention. You don’t owe them anything, they don’t care for you, they never cared for you.”

There it is.

“Not like we do.”

“Not like I do.”

The sentence is out of his mouth before he even realizes it. Spit out through clenched teeth and cracked lips. Mixed with anger and passion and yearning.

I love you.

The thought surprises him. And yet it doesn’t at the same time. But the words get caught in his throat. In his chest. On the way up to his lips yet they never part to let them free.

Shayr’la whispers, “You don’t mean that.”

“Do not presume to know how I feel Ka’ra,” The Mand’alor snaps at her. His outburst caught her off guard.

He's in front of her now, lost pacing in the left over fury of his emotions. A heavy rasp crackles through his helmet as he catches his breath and attempts to quell his anger.

Tension and unspoken words lay heavy between them. Of things left unsaid. And will remain unsaid.

“I said you may go. So please—”

A gloved hand comes into view; soft and broken in.

Trembling.

It comes close. So close.

Like a reflection of themselves.

An almost.

But it doesn’t finish. He doesn’t commit and she doesn’t meet him; The both of them not allowing themselves to transpire. A moment happens, something fragile, delicate, cracked, before it could even begin.

“—please, love...”

A tear falls.

“Go.”

#the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #cl!din #julia tries writing

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arbythel117 · 3 years ago

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Come For A Walk - A Prompt Fill

This was a prompt from @faerhardyn-the-raging-ethereal :) Thanks for it, and sorry it took me so long to finish it ❤

Prompt: Thel notices the subtle shaking in John’s hands as he watches him converse to Blue Team and Halsey. He notices the shaking even when the Spartan thinks that not all attention is on him. Thel knows the man is hurting so when the sun is down on Sanghelios he searches for the man, to converse and comfort him.

---

The more time Thel spent around the Spartan, the more he learned about his subtle gestures and body language. The way he subtly tilts his head when he’s listening closely to others, that even though he’s stood straight that he’s relaxed, or how he communicates with his teammates with a lot of hand signals Thel had learned over time what they had meant. John had taught him what a Spartan smile was, because it couldn’t be seen under the tinted visors they wore, and that had been a groundbreaking moment for their relationship, drawing them ever closer to each other. Sometimes, Thel returned the gesture.

The one thing he noticed about John over anything else though, was how much his hands always just barely shook.

He couldn’t recall if it was always like that when they had first met, he was never too focused on the Spartan back then, only trying to keep peace with him and their mutual allies after leaving the Covenant, but as they grew together, he began to notice it. From just watching him walk around, to when he’s relaxed or eating. The only time Thel hasn’t seen it happen is when John was on the battlefield. The man was always fully focused, and his aim steady and true, unwavering.

Thel didn’t know if it was just nerves causing it, from excitement of the next mission, or his feelings, which he believed to be the more likely case. He needed to get John alone sometime and talk to him about it. He wasn’t even sure John was aware he did it.

He could see it again now, from where he was working, overlooking a balcony in his Keep, seeing John and his team with Halsey just a distance away outside.

He quite liked the Blue Team, and they were quick to accept the blooming relationship between him and John, if a bit skeptical at first. Kelly always seemed to be the most laid back of them, and he could see it now, the way she casually leaned against a tall boulder. Fred was second in command, a bit more serious, having his armored arms crossed over his chest. Linda never spoke much, very similar to John in that regard, but she was always one to get straight to the point when it mattered. She stood there with her sniper rifle in hand that he had never seen her without. It had freaked out many Sangheili originally when they had first come to Thel’s planet, but quickly learned she wasn’t a threat at all. He assumed it was something that made her feel safe on what was an unknown planet to her, surrounded by who used to be enemies.

And then there was John. The human had his back turned to him, standing straight as he usually did, but it was clear he was comfortable in the presence of his team and the doctor. Despite it, with his arms hanging at his sides, his hands shook. But almost as if John had sensed him watching, those same hands clenched into fists mere moments later to stop it.

Thel only watched for a few more seconds before letting out a sigh, and turning, seeing Rtas looking at him. They were working together on some of their Keeps paperwork before the former got distracted by the Spartan.

“You are worried about him.” Rtas commented, speaking in their native tongue, concern present in his orange colored eyes.

Thel was quiet, his mandibles shut closed, before he slowly nodded his head and let it hang slightly. “Yes.” He answered, then looked back out at Blue Team. He didn’t know what they were speaking about, most stuff was classified between them but sometimes John told the Sangheili about it. “He’s been through too much recently. I can see he keeps everything bottled inside.” Thel said.

The most recent event the Spartan had to endure through was losing Cortana. She had been a best friend to him, someone the Spartan could rely on through thick and thin until she became rampant. John had to personally put her down, he refused to let anyone else touch her, and Thel could tell it had affected him a lot. The way the other had been more withdrawn than usual lately, more quietly spoken or not speaking at all. He’s been hurting.

“You should speak to him.” Rtas said, putting a clawed, four-fingered hand on the other’s shoulder. “I can tell it has been affecting you as well.”

Thel looked Rtas in the eyes, a quiet falling over them both. He worked his mandibles as though in search of the right words, and then nodded. “I will tonight. At sundown.” He promised.

“Good.” Rtas gave him a half-jawed Sangheili smile. “It will be good for you both.” Squeezing his shoulder and standing up, he went over to the balcony doors and shut the curtains, blocking out the sun and the view of the Spartan team outside for Thel’s sake. “Let us get back to work.” He said, sitting down across the other Sangheili again, delving back into paperwork with him.

***

It wasn’t difficult to find the Spartan. The Sangheili had offered them their training grounds to use whenever they felt like it, and in fact, many of the Sangheili loved training with and against them as the Spartans made formidable opponents and trainers. Many of the young ones still had yet to best them in a fight, and it only made them fight harder to defend their still growing honor. It was a good lesson for them.

To find John here though, at the time of night it was, with the sun nearly set over the horizon, was a bit unusual. He would normally have called it a night already and turned in and Thel wouldn’t see him again until the next morning. But entering the grounds, Thel could see him sparring in hand-to-hand combat with his teammate, Kelly. They looked to be on equal footing aside from Kelly dodging and moving from attacks a bit quicker. She was the first one to notice Thel, and John had taken the opportunity of her distraction to knock her off her nimble feet.

“Oof, hey,” She complained after she landed, and gestured towards the Sangheili. “Looks like there’s someone here for you, John.”

“I hope I am not interrupting.” Thel apologized, walking closer towards the pair.

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “Not at all. Do you need something?” He asked, and again, Thel could see that slight tilt of his head as he asked.

“I would like to walk with you.” He requested, and glanced at the female Spartan. “If that is alright with you.” When Kelly just shrugged her shoulders indifferently, he looked back at John expectantly.

“Sure.” John replied. Turning to Kelly, “Let the team know I’ll turn in late tonight. Don’t worry about me.” He said and began to walk towards the exit of the training grounds. Thel followed just a step behind.

Only moments later, Thel could have sworn if looks could kill just from a helmet visor, they would have, as John had suddenly turned and stared down Kelly for a few seconds while she waved innocently back at him.

***

The nights of Sanghelios were quiet, and always lit up. The only sounds that broke the quiet were the rushing of the nearby rivers, and the sounds of their footsteps and occasionally the scurrying of the nocturnal animals coming out for the night. Overhead the aurora shone bright, dancing in blues and greens, along with the two moons of Sanghelios. The planet truly did feel like a different place at night than the busyness the day brought.

John and Thel walked side by side for a distance away from their homes, in a comfortable silence, almost seeming to not really have any destination in mind of where they were going as Thel lead them down a winding path through the mountains with the double moons lighting their way.

As discreetly as the Sangheili could, Thel looked down at John’s hand closest to him. It was shaking ever so slightly again as they walked. He let out a silent sigh through his nose, and imitating what he had seen humans close to each other do and threaded his fingers between John’s armored ones, holding his hand.

It wasn’t practical for him, it was uncomfortable a bit actually, with how his hands were made compared to the human’s and being slightly larger, but he did it for the comfort of the other. John’s hand had reflexively almost pulled away, but remained locked when his visored eyes met Thel’s amber ones.

“Sorry,” Thel apologized quietly, “I hope this is okay.”

It took a few moments before John nodded. “Yeah...” He breathed out, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Good.” Thel replied, leaving them in silence together for a bit longer as they walked, hand in hand. Though the armor was cold in the night air, he could swear he felt warmth emanating from the Spartan’s hand that was more relaxed now, unshaking.

“Why-“

“I-“

John was the first to break their silence after a while, only to have himself cut off as Thel began to speak at the same time.

“My apologies.” Thel apologized quickly after the few moments of them realizing they tried to speak at the same time. “You first.”

“Uh, right,” The Spartan said, a bit flustered now, “Why bring me out here?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly. Though he could appreciate the view of the double moons, the rising stars, the aurora, the view the mountains gave at night, standing tall around them and casting dark shadows, he knew there had to be a reason beyond that that the Arbiter had requested him along.

“I was concerned.” Thel answered, and looked up at the sky. “Maybe it is not my place,” He said, then looking back at John, “but I thought you seemed like you could use a friend.” He said, then added more softly, “Are you okay?”

John suddenly came to a stop, causing Thel to stop, surprised, as he stiffened, and gently pulled his hand out from Thel’s own. The absence of John’s hand in Thel’s own was immediately missed by him, but the Sangheili didn’t protest, only tightened his closed mandibles in response. To John, he didn’t know where this was coming from. He didn’t believe he gave off any indication to cause any worry. He always kept everything bottled up tightly, never to be seen by anyone, put on a facade that everything was okay and that he was okay, yet Thel, ever so seemingly observant, had noticed he truly wasn’t okay. Sure, his team knew about his pain and his grief, his depression, but they never spoke much of it, just living life as it came, and no one else outside of them knew what he was going through.

Thel was the first one to ask him, outside of Blue Team, if he was okay. It was such a simple thing, yet it meant so much to him. That someone outside of what he considered family cared.

And he wasn’t prepared for the surge of emotions that brought forth in him that he would usually only let out if he was completely alone. The sudden stinging of his eyes that he only wanted to rub to stop tears from spilling over, the lump in his throat as he tried to come up with some response for Thel, only for nothing to be able to come out.

John was suddenly thankful for the helmet he wore over his head, hiding the raw emotions that crossed his face from the other.

Thel gently took both the Spartan’s hands into his again, as they began shaking uncontrollably with the sudden emotions. Though his hands had armored pads over the top of them, it didn’t stop Thel from rubbing his thumbs over top of them simultaneously. He would give him the time he needed to respond while also letting him know he was here for him.

When a single shake of a head was the only response Thel got back after a couple minutes, it was all he needed to hear from the other, not expecting more beyond that tonight. Thel got the closure he needed, and they could work on it together in the future, opening up to each other. “I will be the ears to listen when you need it.” He promised, willing to go at John’s pace.

And John was also thankful for Thel. The other was present for many of the things he’d gone through recently, he was someone who could likely understand him the most. He was glad to have been gradually becoming closer to the Sangheili.

He shared his silent thanks by giving Thel’s hands a couple of light squeezes, comforted by the squeeze he received back.

Drabble 01

#halo #charbiter #john-117 | master chief/thel 'vadam | the arbiter #master chief #john-117 #thel vadam #rtas vadum #s2 blue team #prompt fill #short story #feel free to send me prompts! especially for charbiter :)#i love these two nerds a lot #i hope you enjoy ❤#i have plans to write more :)

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sabababa · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Can you do the 2 part to "They get hit by a quirk that makes them live their greatest fear headcanons" but with hawks, dabi and todoroki, please? Thank you!

Hawks get hits by a quirk that makes him live his greatest fear

Hawks x GenderNeutral!Reader

Author’s note: I know you noticed that I don’t write for these guys, but I have been debating on writing for Hawks anyway (Dabi and Shoto have never caught my eye) and I only watch the anime, so can no one please give me manga spoilers, I already got spoiled about the latest chapter lmao Bro, this got so dark and sad and HAWKS BB I’M SORRY-

Part 1: Izuku, Katsuki, Mirio, and Aizawa

Warnings: Angst (Fluff ending), domestic abuse, mental abuse, some suggestive themes, cursing, body mutilation (feather pulling)

Hawks

You abuse him

Hawks had just apprehended some low-level thug when, what he assumed was, a pedestrian bumped into him

The world went dark before he regained his sight again

Since he was still on edge from earlier he whipped around to find the person but saw no one there

Come to think of it, no one was around and it was night already

His feathers twitched out of instinct at feeling something wasn’t right

And his first thought was to go check on you

He flew back to your shared apartment and landed on the balcony before sliding the door open

His eyes darted around the room and saw you sitting on the couch

Wearing one of his shirts

And some racy panties

His wings released the tension they held and instead puffed themselves up to appear bigger

Some old bird instinct to attract you

You leaned against the arm of the couch and did a ‘come here’ motion with your finger

He had a seductive look on his face as he stalked towards you

“Whatcha’ wearin’, lovebird?” He cooed

“Come find out, birdy,” You purred

He climbed on top of you and trapped your lips in a deep kiss as your hands snaked their way up his chest, it sent a shiver up his spine and to his wings

Then, he felt you flip them off the couch, to where he was on the bottom

He let out a yelp from the sudden force as he fell awkwardly onto his wings

“B-be careful, lovebird,” he groaned out, but tried to keep the mood going

Maybe you were wanting it to be a little rough and he could oblige to that

And then he felt a sharp bite at the spot where his neck and shoulder met, just above the collarbone

“AH! L-lovebird!” He winced, but smirked. “Gettin’ a little rough are we- OW!”

You broke skin and he could feel some blood trickle down his flesh and onto his wings

He had to admit, even though the bite hurt like hell, he was kinda turned on that you were marking him so aggressively

“Lovebird, as hot as that was, could you be a little gentl-AAHH!” He was cut off by his own scream as you ripped some feathers out. “NO, that’s it! I’ve had enou-AH!” He tried to push you off, but you pulled more feathers out

“Quit being a baby,” you grunted, looking annoyed

“Get off me!” His voice felt weak as he yelled. It wasn’t filled with anger, but with fear

He managed to crawl out from under you and stand up above you, his wings fanned out to intimidate you, but you weren’t some stupid bird who would fall for an act like that

You sighed and stood up too. “Jeez, you’re so sensitive! I’m just having a little fun!” You kicked him between the legs at the end

As he was doubling over, you brought your knee up to connect with his face and he fell backward instead. His visor had cracked upon the impact

He curled into a ball as he felt blood leave his nose, it felt broken too

Different types of pain were appearing all over his body as he curled tighter into himself, using his wings as a shield

“You’re so weak! I thought you were a hero!” You growled as you pulled more feathers out

He screamed in pain and scrabbled away from you, ending up hitting a wall

“Fight back if you’re so strong!” You yelled down at him as you loomed over threateningly

But he couldn’t fight back, he didn’t want to use his feathers against you. They were meant to protect you, not harm you

Maybe I deserve this? He thought

“You’re not a hero! You’re just some stupid kid who thought he could make a difference!” You couched in front of him and yanked his hair back

He whimpered and felt tears in his eyes as a sob threatened to escape his throat, but he swallowed it back down as he spoke out. “Y-you’re right, I’m sorry!” He sniveled

I’m just a stupid kid

You tugged his hair down so his face would connect with the hardwood floor, breaking part of the visor

Pain from his broken nose surged through him as he finally let out a sob

“Sorry won’t do shit!” You yelled. “You’re so fucking pathetic! Sniveling and crying all bloodied on a floor!” You ground his face harder to the ground. He let out a wail. “What would you do if I were a villain?! You’d just take it and give up, wouldn’t you?!”

I’m so pathetic

“Tch,” you finally released him from your hold and the pressure on his nose went away. “You’re not a hero and you’re not worth my time.”

His eyes closed as he sobbed into the floor

I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy, “I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy,”

“Hawks?” Your voice was gentler this time as you spoke, it cracked even

He squinted an eye open as he stared up at you

The aura was different, the world was different

He stared at you through the yellow tint of his visor, which was somehow repaired

Your clothes were different. You were in your work clothes, the house keys still in your hand like you had just gotten home. You had a tearful look in your eyes as you stared down at him

“Hawks?” You squeaked out again and dropped to his level

He pushed himself up to sit on his knees and noticed all the pain was gone. His nose wasn’t broken, his feathers were still in place, and the bite was gone

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your hand reach out to him and he flinched back harshly, his back hitting the wall as he gave you a fearful and questioning look, his breathing picked up as he was too afraid to speak

Your hand immediately pulled back from his sudden movements

You hated how scared he looked

“Hawks, what’s wrong?” You pleaded with him

His breathing slowed slightly when the changes were starting to set in

He guessed it was some villain quirk that got used on him, or something

But he couldn’t stop the fear he still felt as he stared at you

You reached your hand out again, seeing that he calmed down slightly

“DON’T-” He yelped at first and held a hand out to stop you. He swallowed thickly when he noticed that you pulled back again. “Just- Just don’t touch me,” his voice wavered as he pulled his knees to his chest. “I need a minute.”

“Okay,” you whispered and left him alone in the living room and went to the bedroom

You changed out of your work clothes and slipped into one of the shirts he had given you to use. You sat on your side of the bed as you worried about what Hawks went through. Did he have a bad villain attack? Maybe it was some PTSD you didn’t know about? Whatever it was, he looked so frightened

You heard his boots trudge down the hallway and saw his form was slouched against the doorway

He looked up at you and his droopy eyes widened at seeing you

What did you do now?

“Hawks? What is it?”

He let a shiver visibly pass through him as his body shook and puffed his wings up, before flattening the feathers again

He slowly made his way over to his side of the bed, taking off his headset, visor, and boots, before leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. He stared at the ceiling for a while in silence and you decided it would be best for him to speak when he was ready

You heard him sigh and you looked over at him, he hadn’t moved

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he turned his head to look at you, “right?”

“Of course I wouldn’t, I love you!” You inched closer to him, just wanting to be in his arms or to at least hold him

He stared at you for what felt like forever before a sob escaped his lips and tears fell from his eyes, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth and hunched over on the bed as he continued to cry

You gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder and he stiffened as his crying stopped

But then he flung himself at your lap and wrapped his arms around your waist as he bawled

You clung to him as you rubbed a soothing line between his wings along his back

Eventually, his sobs stopped and he turned his body to face you fully

You brushed back a strand of his hair from his eyes and gently wiped away the tear stains against his cheek

He sniffled as you cleaned his face and brought a hand up to press your palm against his cheek, making you look at him

“Am I worthy?” He asked

“Of what?” You asked confused

“Of you.”

You leaned back slightly from the question, wondering what could have caused him to act like this, but you leaned forward again to place a kiss on his lips

When you pulled away he tried to chase after your lips with his own, but got too far

You laughed lightly and ran your fingers through his hair

“Of course, birdy, you’re worth so much more than you know,” you leaned down to give him another kiss. “Will you tell me what happened?” Your lips hovered over his

“I will in the morning, but right now” he placed a hand behind your head, “I just want you to love me.” He pressed your lips together in a passionate kiss

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you want to request some headcanons please go here for the rules!

Masterlist

#hawks x reader #hawks headcanon

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floral-force · 3 years ago

Text

Knight in Beskar Armor - Chapter 8

A Hunter's Embrace

words: 5k

warning: smut/NSFW/18+ ONLY (unprotected sex) content ahead--please check tags!

a/n: I wrote this from Din's POV! I wanted to try switching it up, and I liked how this felt. Let me know what you think!

series masterlist | read on ao3

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“Princess, princess,” he whispered, gently nudging the sleeping form next to him. “Wake up.”

She started to slowly turn her head, but before she could look at his face, he clamped his hand down over her eyes. The Mandalorian had fallen asleep next to the princess, and he was helmetless.

“My eyes are closed now, Mando,” she smiled and rolled over, and his hand moved down to cup her face. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mmm, I slept well,” he mumbled, sleep tinting his voice. “What about you, Princess?”

“I also slept well,” she said. “It was good to sleep next to you.”

He wished she could see the smile on his face. Hers was bright and beautiful, lighting up any room she was in. Waking up next to her was better than he’d expected, even if they were squished together on his cot with Grogu above them. It was almost domestic, and it scared him. He hadn’t intended to get so close to the Princess of Naboo; he was hired by her father to protect her, not pleasure her.

“I’m glad,” he said. “We should be arriving at Corellia soon.”

“Well,” she yawned. “Better start getting up, Mandalorian.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

He punctuated his sentence with a kiss, making her giggle and tangle her hands in his hair, stealing a few more kisses from him before he finally left the rack, taking his helmet off the shelf and closing the panel to the rack so she didn’t have to worry about seeing his face. As he took a quick shower in the fresher, he thought about her face while she had sucked his cock. Her eyes had filled with tears, wide and searching for his through his visor. He wished he could have met her gaze with his, no helmet filtering their connection. Even thinking about it right now was making him hard.

He was about to be on a hunt; he couldn’t have any distractions. So, he decided to start to stroke his half-hard cock, water streaming down his skin. He closed his eyes and thought about the princess and her mouth. She had taken him so well, every inch in her pretty little mouth, swallowing him whole. He grunted as he started to speed up his strokes, his cock already throbbing. Ever since that night in the garden he’d been thinking about how her lips would fit perfectly around his cock, how it would be so easy to silence her sharp tongue and have her use it to give him pleasure instead of retorts.

The Mandalorian’s hand reached out to touch the shower wall, steadying himself as he came closer to climax. Fuck, he wish he would’ve taken her after filling her mouth with his cum. Pushing her down on the floor to fuck her while she looked into his eyes. Filling that pretty royal pussy with his thick cock, making her moan and beg. He thought about her moaning his name—Din, Din, Din—as he snapped his hips, urging her to finish with him, begging him to join her on the edge—

He groaned her name when his cock throbbed and spilled thick white ribbons on the shower floor, his eyes squeezed shut while his mind reeled from pleasure. Having that princess around was dangerous, not just for hunts, but for his own sex drive. His self-control was strong, yes, but sometimes his lust was enough to strangle it. His hunt on Corellia was going to be good for him.

Mando toweled off and left the fresher to retrieve his armor, not even bothering to wrap his towel around his waist. He was quick opening the armory, on edge in case he heard the rack panel open. He suited up, and before he placed his helmet back on, he looked at himself in the fresher mirror. Maybe it was a good thing the princess couldn’t see his face—she couldn’t see the lines from years of hunting, the furrows in his brow from frustration, and the circles under his eyes that lingered after nearly losing the child. She was young and vibrant, a millaflower in bloom. He was a battle-worn bounty hunter that jumped from one quarry to the next, polishing his beskar and tending his wounds between each. If he ever took his helmet off—something that he doubted would ever happen—he wouldn’t blame her if she rejected him.

“Mando? Mando? Are you almost done?”

The sound of her muffled voice and knocks on the rack panel yanked him out of his thoughts. Din quickly put his helmet on and rushed over to the rack, opening it to see the child nestled in the princess’s arms, cooing, and playing with her hair. She was smiling, and it tugged at his beskar heart just a bit. When she looked up at him, he felt a pang in his chest; it was going to be hard to leave her during his hunt.

“He likes you,” Din said, nodding at the child.

She looked at the wiggling green baby in her arms. “I suppose he has warmed up to me quite a bit since we first met.” She laughed when Grogu babbled. “He jumped down from his little hammock and hasn’t left my arms since.”

Din would have hugged her and Grogu, wrapping them in his arms, if it weren’t for the fact that they were about to leave hyperspace and land on Corellia. He stopped his heart from growing too soft at the scene, instead clearing his throat.

“The ship is going to leave hyperspace. We’ll land on Corellia soon,” he said, noticing how her smile slowly dropped.

She nodded, setting the child down on the cot despite his complaints. “I’ll get changed.”

“Be quick,” he said as she walked to the fresher, taking clothes with her. “You need to be strapped in when the Crest leaves hyperspace and breaks the atmosphere.”

“I’ll hurry.”

Din looked down at the child, scooping him into his arms. He let out a quiet sigh; he knew he’d upset the princess, but he couldn’t let their attraction come between his bounties. He needed the credits now that he had another mouth to feed—he couldn’t afford to get distracted or go soft.

When he got to the cockpit, he set Grogu down in the copilot’s seat, handing him his favorite metal ball before he could snatch it himself. Din chuckled as he prepped the Crest up for the drop, watching the nav panel and waiting on the princess to arrive. When she did, she was in another pair of black leggings, this time wearing a short-sleeved purple tunic, a belt knotted around her waist. He noticed that her hair was in braids as she looked at him, strapping into her seat and twiddling her thumbs.

The Crest left hyperspace with a jolt and Corellia came into view, white clouds encircling its blue and earthy surface. Din alerted his docking contact with the push of a few buttons, and when he received the transmission to enter Corellia’s atmosphere, he guided the Crest into it. The Crest made a bumpy entry into Corellia, and the Mandalorian winced when he heard the princess sharply inhale. Finally, they reached smoother air, and he managed to land the ship on his contact’s docking platform, quietly groaning when he saw droids approach his ship.

Din pointed at Grogu. “You, stay in the crib. And you,” he pointed at the princess, “You stay on the ship with him.”

“I can’t leave with you?”

“Absolutely not.” He left the cockpit and she followed him, standing behind him as he gathered weapons. He turned to look at her when he’d gathered enough detonators and ammunition for this hunt, slinging his rifle over his back.

She put her hands on her hips, squinting at him. “Not even to stay in a hotel?”

“No.” Din moved over to stand in front of the ramp, and he heard her tiny footsteps following behind him. “We need to maintain a low profile.”

She stamped her foot, and his head snapped to look at her. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were tired, and he almost felt bad that he had to hold his ground on this. He didn’t know if anyone was after her, and he also couldn’t risk having her be a distraction during this hunt. Din knew she wasn’t used to life on the Crest, and that she wasn’t used to not getting her way. She was spoiled—and he wouldn’t give in every time she wanted something.

“Mandalorian,” she said, the ramp lowering. “What do you expect me to do while you’re gone?”

He shrugged. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Someone is just trying to outrun a debt they owe.”

With that, he stepped down the ramp, giving her one last glance before leaving her and the child behind. Once he was on the ground, he raised the ramp again, not wanting his contact to get a chance to look inside, or allow the princess to slip off the ship.

“Ah, Mando!”

Din’s head turned and he saw a teal Twi’lek step out of the shadows, a few repair droids trailing behind him.

“Inun Olan,” Din replied, walking towards him. “Thank you for letting me dock.”

Inun clasped Mando’s arm. “Not to worry, my friend. It’s the least I can do after the many times you’ve saved my skin.”

“How much do I owe you?” he said, pulling out a pouch of credits.

“For you? First night is free.”

The Mandalorian opened the pouch and tried handing Inun 300 credits, but he forced them back into the pouch, shaking his head.

“I have to get going,” the Mandalorian said, pulling out his tracking fob. “No droids.”

Inun nodded, sending his repair droids back into the building. “Whatever the Mandalorian wants, I shall give him.”

Din nodded and left the dock, resolving to make this hunt a quick one. It wouldn’t be hard to find a Gran on Coruscant, anyways—although it was a densely populated planet, people would recognize one right away. It was foolish of the bounty to think he could hide out here; if anything, it made his job easier. He’d probably started off running to a shipyard, hoping for transport. The tracking fob in his palm blinked, and he began to plot out his course.

This hunt wouldn’t keep him far from the princess and the child.

So, the Mandalorian may have made a miscalculation.

Usually quarries that owed a debt weren’t being pursued by more than two hunters at a time, and normally neither hunter ran into each other. The bounty simply wasn’t worth enough credits to fight if one had gotten to the quarry first.

After a kick in his chest plate, the Mandalorian wondered if Karga had misinformed him—was this bounty more than an indebted Gran on the run? The red Palliduvan hunter tried to shoot him once again, but her shot missed when he rolled behind cargo crates. She was a good shot; he couldn’t take any chances with testing how good her aim was. His only choice was to rush her and force her to fight hand-to-hand.

He shot rockets off towards her and jumped back out when he heard her swear after being hit, her rifle clattering to the ground. His fist connected with her jaw, and she snarled before flipping and kicking him away again, trying to grab the blaster on her hip. Before she could get any further, he took her wrist and twisted it, pushing her back and away from his body in case she decided to use her fingers to try to claw at him.

“Who sent you for the Gran?” he growled.

She laughed, her sharp teeth red with her own blood. “A Gran? I’m worth more than some low-caliber job. I’m here for the princess.”

Oh, fuck.

When she noticed the Mandalorian’s hesitation, she struggled again, and his free hand moved to wrap around her neck, squeezing hard enough to discourage further attempts of escape. She sneered at him again, and under his helmet his lips twisted into a snarl.

“I heard she was with you—some pretty young thing from Naboo,” she gasped when he squeezed her throat, applying more pressure. “There’s a bounty on her head, Mando. And you’re in the way.”

She punctuated her sentence with a kick square in his chest, one last attempt at escaping and grabbing her blaster. He was quicker, though; he slammed her to the ground, knocking her unconscious on the dirty ground of the shipyard ally. When she didn’t move, he finally stood up, binding her wrists and snatching her weapons off the ground. He couldn’t risk her waking up and tracking him again.

As he stalked off to the Gran’s location, he ran through this new information. There were people on the hunt for the princess. A part of him had known this since the night he’d swept her away from Naboo; there was no way that whoever assassinated the king had planned on stopping with him. Even when he’d been briefed by the king, he’d been warned that it wouldn’t stop with his death, and that people were going to be on the hunt for her neck—the neck the Mandalorian had held tight and kissed gently.

Telling her was going to be...tricky. He had to convey the very real danger she was in—danger that had made his heart stop and his blood freeze—without alarming her so much that she shut down. As he dragged the Gran back to the crest—he was begging so much that Din had stunned him—he came up with a way to delicately break the news that there were hunters after her. Din was shaken by the news. He’d figured the assassin wouldn’t stop with her father, but he supposed he’d forgotten about that in favor of remembering how the princess tasted on his tongue.

When her father had commissioned him to protect her, Din hadn’t realized how imminent of a threat there was to the royal family, nor how deadly it truly was. He also hadn’t realized how he’d be pulled towards the princess, a spark between them strong enough to start a fire. He’d been pulled toward her like a moth to a flame, his wings burning bright in her fiery eyes. Seeing her in the garden was an accident—he’d been drawn towards its opulence, not used to something so grand and full within the confines of brick and mortar. He hadn’t been able to sleep in his quarters, craving the tiny rack and the gentle snores of Grogu above him. After seeing her, he stayed up even later fantasizing about pinning her down right there and pleasing her, trapping her in his embrace, making her submit to him. Looking at her bathed in moonlight made him understand that the garden wasn’t the only beautiful thing confined in the palace.

“Mando—back so soon?” Inun’s voice boomed, his arms open.

“It was an easy chase.” He tossed a few more credits into the Twi’lek’s hand. “Quarries that owe a debt don’t think with their head.”

Inun laughed. “Well, my friend, your ship is repaired and fueled for your next hunt.”

“Thank you,” Din said, looking down at the Gran that was beginning to stir.

Inun nodded, and Mando ascended the Crest’s ramp.

Once inside the ship, he scanned for the princess, catching her and the child’s heat signature in the rack. He was silent when he dragged his bounty to the carbonite freezing chamber, encasing the Gran in carbonite, a terrified expression frozen on its face. When the Mandalorian turned around, he saw the princess, distressed and holding the child in her arms. Her hair was a mess, her feet bare and legs exposed. She was in the old shirt he’d given her when she had first met him. It made his cheeks flush, and he was thankful yet again for his helmet.

“W-what was that?” she stuttered, looking from him to the frozen Gran.

“Carbonite. Clients like their bounties alive. So, I freeze them.” He scooped Grogu out of her arms, and the child gurgled, which made her chuckle. “How was her?”

“So very sweet,” she smiled, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “I could tell he missed you, he wouldn’t let go of me.”

Din handed the child back to her and strode over to the cockpit ladder, and he was happy to hear the princess’ tiny footsteps follow him. They were going to jump back into hyperspace to get to Nevarro—he’d only taken one bounty from Karga, mainly because he wasn’t sure how much the princess could handle. As she stood next to his pilot seat, strapping Grogu in, he could smell the flowers on her skin, her scent almost intoxicating to him after the scent of fuel had burned his nostrils during the hunt. The jump into hyperspace passed without a word between them, the child’s tiny gurgles and the Crest’s groans the only noises reaching their ears. It didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable; it felt like there was a small understanding between them now. When it had developed, Din didn’t know. Maybe while he was gone, the princess had had some sort of realization. He hated that he was going to knock her back to where she had started—scared and kicking him as he carried her away from danger.

He decided to break the news after finishing his rations. Grogu had finally settled down in his crib in the cockpit, calm now that his father was back with him. Din replaced his helmet and gathered his nerves as he left the cockpit to approach the princess, who was laying on her back in the rack, her knees bent and legs kicking off the edge of it. For the first time in a while, she looked relaxed. It made him feel even worse about telling her that she was in danger.

He called her name and she sat up on her elbows, smiling gently at him. He thought back to the garden and how terrified she had looked at the sight of him. Something inside of him fluttered, but he crushed it quickly. “Princess, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Mando?” her smile morphed into concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, the bounty was easy,” he knelt in front of her between her legs, looking up at her.

“Oh, good. I was worried.”

He took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t hear it. “Princess, there are bounty hunters after you.” Her face went white. “You’re in danger.”

“W-why do they want me?” she whispered, crossing her arms, her fingers digging into her flesh.

“Whoever wanted your father dead didn’t want to stop with him,” he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and he heard her breath catch in her throat. “I thought I was safe with you.”

“You are.” He grabbed her hand, making her jump and stare down at him. “You are.”

“Mando…” she whispered, tears slipping out of her eyes.

He murmured her name, sweeping her into his arms. He felt her shoulders shake as she sobbed into his armor, her hands gripping his pauldrons to remind herself that he was there beneath her, surrounding her and embracing her. It hurt him to see her hurt like this, and it hurt more knowing he was the source of it. His armor was cracking, but for some reason, he didn’t mind. As he held the shaking princess, all he wanted was to kiss her and make her forget her pain for a moment. But the thought of admitting that was something that deeply unsettled him. So instead, he held her tight, rubbing small circles on her back, and stroking her hair until she quieted and sat back, staring at her lap, back against the rack panel.

“We’re going back to Nevarro,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll turn the quarry in, and we can make a plan.”

She nodded. “Do you still want me with you?”

“I swore to protect you.”

“I don’t want to endanger you.”

“Princess,” he chuckled. “I’ve handled worse.”

He flinched when her fingers reached out and brushed his helmet. “I suppose you have.”

He took her wandering hand in his and she weakly smiled at him, her cheeks still stained red from her sobs. She looked like a weeping angel, a maiden in mourning, a beauty that carried herself with grace despite it all. Before she could react, he was peeling off his armor, tossing pieces off haphazardly, ignoring the clangs of beskar on the floor of the Crest in favor of her excited giggles. It was music to his ears, and such a welcome sound after hearing her cries.

He took her in his arms, laying her on her back. The red on her cheeks was no longer due to tears—it seemed her eagerness was showing on her skin. Her hands pressed on his chest, picking at the fabric that covered his skin.

“The kid needs you here,” Din said, stopping his tongue from slipping.

She smirked. “The kid needs me here?”

“He likes you.” The Mandalorian thought about how Grogu looked nestled in her arms, smiling up at her. It was burned into his memory, and it was something he didn’t want to forget any time soon.

“He likes me.” Her hands traveled down his torso, tugging on the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal a bit of his golden skin.

“Yes.”

He suppressed a shiver when she pulled his shirt up further, the cold air of the Crest hitting his skin and amplifying the warmth from her hands. All he could do was stare at her and memorize the way she looked in this moment. Maybe he didn’t want to fuck her; maybe he wanted to just remain above her, hands by her ears, keeping her in his trap as he committed every curve of her body to memory.

“Close your eyes, mesh’la.”

She immediately did as told—so obedient—a gentle smirk on her face as he took off his helmet and shirt. He felt her jump when his lips met hers, then moaned when her hands cupped his face. She was so touchy, so insistent upon knowing every line and bump on his face, every hidden story in his skin. It made him kiss her more, his tongue exploring her mouth as one of his hands crept between her legs, cupping the heat between them. She gasped into his mouth, rolling her hips ever-so slightly.

“Can I taste you, princess?”

She nodded—yes, yes, yes, please, Mando—and gave him one last kiss before he pulled her shirt up and over her head, revealing her perky tits. Her hands tangled in his hair as he bit and kissed her chest, relishing every gasp and whimper when he sucked on her nipples and sucked her delicate skin hard enough to leave a mark—his mark. Just hearing her voice and listening to her needy moans was enough to make his cock throb and leak, but he had work to do.

He sat back and roughly pulled her pants off, and gently slid her panties off, noticing the damp patch that her arousal had created. Instead of tossing them to the side, he smirked, leaning back over her.

“Princess, you already made a mess, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she whined, her fingers curling around his wrist, urging his hand down and off her face.

He held steady though. “Taste how wet you already are.”

She gasped when he stuffed her panties into her mouth, and fuck, she looked pretty gagged. Din had found another way to silence the princess, and he was quite pleased with himself. He licked down from her sternum to the top of her mound, stopping before going any further. Her body arched up to meet his wet tongue, his fingers digging into her thighs, pushing her legs open to reveal her cunt. When he pulled back her folds, he chuckled. She was already soaking wet for him, already on the edge. Her begs for his tongue were muffled but he could tell she was on the brink of tears—so needy for her knight. And who was he to deny his princess?

When his tongue licked slowly around her clit, she arched up, her hand tugging his hair. He couldn’t help himself; he slid his tongue into her scorching hot, soaking slit, and moaned when he tasted her. She moaned so loud that Din was proud of himself for gagging her—it was sexy and practical. The princess was soaking his tongue, and he loved the taste of her. He needed more than this, though. He needed to feel how wet she was on his aching cock. He’d been wanting it for too long—he needed to have it.

She cried when he pulled his mouth away, but she sighed when he easily slipped two fingers inside of her, curling up and pressing against the soft spot inside of her cunt.

“Does my princess like daddy filling her like this?” He smirked when she nodded, moaning. “Does she want more?”

When she nodded again, he pulled her panties out of her mouth, and replaced them with the two fingers that had been inside of her. He groaned when she worked her tongue around his fingers, his free hand palming his length through his pants. When his patience ran out, he stood and got rid of the restricting fabric, his cock throbbing against her bare skin when he resumed his position above her, kissing her again. He lined himself up with her entrance, stroking her cheek before placing his hands beside her ears, admiring how gorgeous she looked beneath him—already such a mess for him.

“Do you want this, princess?” he asked, the tip of his cock teasing her wet entrance.

“Yes, Mando, please,” she whispered, her hands snaking up his torso and wrapping around his neck.

He slowly slid inside of her, moaning as he felt her cunt stretch around his thick length, watched her face as she took every inch until he was buried to the hilt. Din kissed her and began to slowly thrust, having to force himself to keep a steady pace because his cock was already aching and ready for release. He moaned her name, moving down onto his forearms. She felt better than he could have ever imagined—so tight, so wet, so warm—and he was trying so hard not to finish already, fuck—

“J-just like t-that—ah, fuck—yes—there, there,” she panted, her breath hitching as her walls fluttered around his cock.

“Like that, cyar’ika?” he said, sliding the head of his cock over a spot that was making her melt into the floor beneath him.

“Yes, Mando, yes, right fucking there—”

“Din,” he growled. “My name is Din. Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Din!” she cried. He sped up and embraced her, feeling her cunt begin to pulse around his cock, begging for his own release to join hers. Her face was buried in his neck, her mouth close to his ear. “Fuck, Din—you’re so good—just like that—stars, I’m gonna cum—I w-want you to fill me—fill me, please, Din—”

He moaned her name, his spend filling her pulsing cunt as she nearly shouted his name, their orgasms and voices in harmony. Their song of release filled the air of the Crest, and Din never wanted to let go of her, never wanted to forget how she looked—spent, flushed, happy—and how she felt around his cock and in his arms. He kissed her and repeated her name into her neck, feeling her quick pulse beneath his lips. She whined when he finally pulled his softening length out of her with a wet squelch—fuck, he’d have to clean that mess up—and he shushed her with a deep kiss, melding their burning mouths together. He sat up and scooped her into his arms, making her squeal, her back sticky with sweat and her face glistening. He carried her over to the rack, setting her down gently and snatching a pair of briefs.

“Are you going to get your son?” she mumbled, sitting up. “Because if so, I’m going to use the fresher.”

He chuckled, kissing her cheek. “My perceptive princess.” He rose to his full height again, slipping the briefs on. “I’ll be back soon.”

He went up to the cockpit and lingered there for a little while, cradling Grogu in his arms and staring out at hyperspace. The small child snored softly, and Din couldn’t help his lips from curling into a gentle smile. He made his way back down to the rack, noticing the panel was closed. She was thoughtful; instead of risking seeing him, he could announce his arrival so she could close her eyes. It made his heart skip a beat—he’d never experienced that...kindness…before. He knocked, and the panel slid up.

Grogu only stirred slightly after being placed in his hammock, nestling into his blankets for warmth after losing his father’s. The princess was wearing his old shirt again, her legs exposed and the curve of her ass peeking out below the large garment. Din slid next to her, pressing her back into his chest, embracing her. It was where she belonged, and she knew it too, placing her hands over his and contentedly sighing.

“Get some rest Din,” she whispered, pulling the hand on her waist to her lips, kissing it.

For the first time in a long time, Din fell asleep quickly, and he dreamt of sweeping the princess off her feet for a dance at the ball, his cyar’ika resting in his arms as they spun around the ballroom.

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dinthehottotty · 4 years ago

Text

A Thing About Silver (Part 1)

Din Djarin x Reader x Cobb Vanth

Reader is really horny and Mando refuses to give into her prompts. She takes comfort from Cobb before returning to Din.

Warnings: Smut, cream pies, jealous!Mando, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex. Minor psychological break, this turned out more fucked up than intended. Angst. Rejection.

...

You'd felt the sexual frustration for months now. And not just a couple. It was going on nine months. Nine! And stuffing your fingers up inside you in the dark of your bunk before Mando came into the room was far from satisfactory. The desperate and quick orgasms were becoming even less powerful, making you chase multiples only to find a lack luster completion. And recently you'd even resorted to when he was there. You'd listen for his quiet breathing and pray to all the gods that he was long since passed out.

It felt like your cunt hadn't stopped aching for months. The whole time you'd thrown flirty comments at Mando. At first he ignored them. But the things you said went from cute little flirts to filthy fucking language. Especially when he joined in, throwing random comments in it. You shiver every time you think of him saying ‘Now is not the time to stare at me so you can think of me in your bunk later.” You’d given him a naughty grin as he told you to hand him a tool on your other side while he worked on a panel inside the ship. His quips were getting better.

There was something about being in that little bo-dunk strip in the dessert that reminded you just how thirsty you were. What you wouldn't give to gulp down (not even his at this point) some thick cock.

Ugh. Even the thought made you internally cringe.

You were getting desperate.

And then the Marshall walked in.

Your heart stuttered automatically in your chest. Hard. Dirty thoughts of getting railed by not one, but two Mandalorians had your brain short circuiting. Oh, filth oozed from you.

And then he removed his helmet and you speed ran the five stages of grief. Just as acceptance rolled in, Mando demanded he 'take it off or that he would.' It was low and threatening and made you nearly lose your mind even thought his intent was murder and not some western style three-way. Nonetheless, it would steamroll your dreams nightly.

You didn't expect Vanth to charm you the way he had. You suppose it was his silver hair and pearly grin at work with your dry spell because normally you had a thing for mocha skin and soulful brown eyes.

Now, the deep ache had reached not just between your legs but deep in your belly. There was a monster hooked in your cervix and you needed something to beat it to death in there. Fuck were you getting desperate.

Almost an entire week of Vanth flirting with you and Mando barely acknowledging it. Like it didn't matter. Oh, did that make you boil. And here, celebrating back in the town for killing that godforsaken sand dragon, you were about to spill over. Especially when Vanth smirks at you from across the bar, a lift to one of his brows, questioning your next move.

You hadn't given him an inch on the mission. Not a smile or a blush. Just kept your mouth shut and glanced to Mando who'd plainly ignore it.

You didn't know if he didn't see Vanth as competition or if he just didn't care. You reach back for your drink on the bar, ready to throw one back in attempt to burn our the flames between your legs. A flash of silver catches your eye.

Glancing over, you see Mando striding over from the door.

"Room is ready. Go get some sleep. We leave early." He orders.

With liquid courage in your system, you glare at him and turn back to your drink. You motion for the bar keep to refill you. "Are you going to be joining me? Or are you going to leave me high and dry again?" You manage out the growl.

He stares at you in silence and you face him, giving a question lift to your eyebrows, a lack of anything other than blatant distaste in your features.

"You're drunk." He decides.

"Getting there." You snap and take a slow sip of your drink, eyeing the tinted visor on his face.

He watches as you twist your body toward Vanth again and lean against the bar. He's calmly watching the exchange between you both from across the loud room.

"Tell you what, you give me one good dance to the next song and I'll go back to the room with you right now." He doesn't budge.

"No," is his only answer. You shake your head and scoff.

"Fine," you reply.

"I'll leave you here if you're not up tomorrow at sunrise." He threatens. Honestly you're more surprised he's not mushing you back toward the ship as you speak.

"If you don't stop me, I'm going to dance with Vanth." He's quite once more. You allow your head to lazily loll back towards the Mandalorian. He's stiff as a board and so quiet you decide to continue with your liquid courage. "Tell me 'no' and I won't fuck him. Tell me you'll take me back to the room and bruise my cervix right now and I won't go seek him out to do it instead." Mando turns to look toward Vanth now. You see his fists tighten, the leather stretching tight across his knuckles.

"Say no," you prompt again. The air is filling with the bustle of the space around you but it stills between the three of you, like lightning about to hit. You straighten to your full height and step close, hovering within inches of his space. You lower your voice to honeyed whisper. "Take me back to the room, Din." His head twitches your way, but barely. "Use me like a whore. I just need to feel something. Something other than my own damn hands or my fucking pillow, please just say no." Give me hope.

He remains silent and watches Vanth. His body is turned towards you, but his head is directed at the Marshall. You wish you could get a read on him but for the life of you, you can't. He just remains silent.

Finger tips brush your arm, bare ones. You hadn't realized Vanth had slid across the small bar to your side. "Hey, sweetheart," he purrs down into your ear. You glance over at him. "You've got such a tense face, come dance with me, break loose of Mando." He urges with a wink and a grin.

He was hesitant to flirt with you at first, but the more he did it and the lack of either parties protest leave him gaining confidence. You and Mando were dancing around each other, gaging the reaction of the other. He never stepped in between. Even now you were watching him. He just remained silent and stared at Vanth. You wish you could read his mind, understand what the fuck is running through it.

After a long still moment you twist toward Vanth. "Are you going to be able to keep up, old man?" You reply. Surprise and excitement flash across his face as Mando's head now swivels at you.

"I help you take down a sand dragon and you think I can't handle a dance?" His hand returns to your arm. Hard finger tips trace feather-light down the sensitive underside of your arm and ghost over your wrist. Your heart stutters in your chest when he firmly intertwines your fingers and gives a gentle tug.

Still, the suit of armor doesn't say a word as you're dragged away. A pain fills you chest. You throw your drink back and drop the glass onto a near by table you pass. A new song comes on, more up beat and you push Mando out of your head as much as you can. You don't need the painof rejection dampening your mood. Not when your so close to getting your legs lifted to your shoulders.

Vanth can dance, you soon realize. He's gracefully zipping you around to the beat and you're actually having fun within a minute of starting. It's a fantastic distraction. And so are his hands.

They start up high, the middle of your back, barely touching you, clasped with yours. And by the third song, when there's a heard of bodies also moving around you, he starts to wander. The hand holding yours falls to your hip, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes dart for a moment. Beskar watches you from the bar still, now sitting. Watching.

"So, before I continue trying to coax you away," the voice in your ear startles you as you both sway to a slower tempo, "am I going to be shot with a blaster by Mando?"

It cracks a smile on your face and you giggle at the thought. "Not what you want to hear, but I've been throwing myself at him for months and not a damn thing's happened," you reply.

"Too bad he took the armor," he replies. Your eyes widened at the thought he was proposing. You sink against his chest, staring up into his crystal blue eyes.

"That might stir up some psychological issues for me, Vanth," you say with a flirty giggle. He grins.

"Damn, you've got the most stunning smile," he murmurs and suddenly his hand is coming up to cup your face and tuck your hair behind your ear.

More than anything you want it to be Mando touching you like that, telling you he loves your smile. It makes you ache. You do the only logical thing you can think of.

You push it deep down, bottling it up with the rest of your emotions.

Closing your eyes, you sink your face against his hand, lifting a hand from his chest to cup it against your face. When you open your eyes you are startled to find Mando standing behind him and let out a squeak.

"What?" You snap sourly as Vanth twists.

Mando's hand is clenched tightly at his side. "It's on the north side of the village."

"It's two places down from me," Vanth offers with a sugar sweet grin. "I'll make sure see gets back." That... that is the reaction you wanted Mando to have when Vanth flirted. Instead, now your twisted in the latter's arms.

Mando looks at you again, then heaves a sigh and leaves.

You fight the urge to follow him. Instead, you continue to dance with Vanth, pushing your hips into his and building up that urge you've been wrestling with for months.

It's the feel of his mouth pressing down on your neck. That's all it takes for you to throw credits down on the bar and drag him out. The moment the cool night air hits you, he's pressing you up against the side of the building and tasting you. There's teeth and tongue. Arousal is burning you up.

Vanth has you both shuffling around the side of the bar and against the side of it before he's sliding a hand into your underwear and you breathe a gasp of relief. You want to sob at the feeling of him filling your cunt so easily with two fingers. His face crumbles in delight.

"Fuck, look how wet you are," he groans. "Come on, let's go back to mine. I'll eat you out, okay?" He coaxes while rolling his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy slowly. Like your not bracing against the wall and rocking desperately onto his fingers. Like you aren't gasping for the dry air as you would be if you had ran a marathon. He'd barely touched you and it felt so kriffing good that there was a heat burning through you like no other.

The feel of his hand where you so desperately need it and his blunt promise to make you cum has you clamping tightly on his fingers. You mewl out a quiet please, so desperate for this not to stop. Nothing had felt so good in so long. You always had to rush and his fingers were thicker than yours, could reach better.

Thankfully he's so mesmerized by your reaction he keeps up his good work. It's not even ten seconds before heat fills your belly and your hands snatch his forearm, holding it in place and leaning your forehead on his shoulder. "C-close," you manage to warn when the palm of his hand pressed down on your clit.

His eyebrows shoot up as his other hand tilts your head back to look at your face. "Already? You poor thing. You're wound up tighter than a-" he doesn't get to finish his thought because you're fisting hands in his shirt when he fingers you slower, but pushes harder up into your front wall. You give a broken cry, tucking your head into your chest and pushing back onto his hand as you completely come undone.

It's the best orgasm you've had in months, leaving Vanth grinning down on you with dark eyes. Your legs wobble beneath you. "Oh, you poor thing. Mando's been edging you for far too long." He breathes before ghosting his mouth over your neck. Your head rolled back exposes it and you whimper as he presses his fingers a few more times into the spongy sweet spot inside.

Its only when someone stumbles loudly from the entrance of the bar that he drags his fingers out, leaving you aching and unbearably empty.

He pulls you into his side, and if anyone saw they'd probably call you drunk. Your a ragdoll from coming off your orgasm. It was hard to focus your eyes as he supports you. The both of you give soft chuckles in response.

"My place?" He prompts.

"Aye, Marshall." He steadies you before the two of you meander the short distance of the street. There aren't many buildings. Its more of a village than a town. No matter where you stood in it, you could see the edges. When you step up onto the front porch you turn to glance around, a flash of silver making itself known.

Silver? Mando. Two buildings down, the last one on this stretch, across the street sat the Mandalorian. The light glowed from the open door behind him, warm and inviting.

I wanna go home, the intrusive thought rang in your head. A pitifully small voice urging you to head down to the porch steps that Din perched, cleaning his rifle, on.

The post orgasm clarity was hitting you. You felt sleepy. Exhausted. You could head in, lay down beside the child and drift to sleep until your partner woke you and dragged you to the next planet. Sleep off the alcohol.

Din glances up, pausing and staring right at you. You step his way, hesitating at the end of Vanth's porch. The man behind you opened his door and turn toward you. But you were too caught up in Mando's reaction. He watched you.

Just tell me 'no', Din. You internally begged. If he'd so much as gestured you back to him you would leap from the porch and race back to him. Instead he went back to polishing the barrel.

Spite fills you and you turn toward Vanth. He gives you a gentle questioning gaze before gesturing you into the dark. You step through, feeling the heat of your anger rising again.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Is the words he speaks when the door closes. "Don't think I'm above sleeping with a woman so she can get her revenge. You can use me however your heart desires." He says, flipping the light on.

"Leave the light off and kiss me. Roughly. I'm angry." You admit. He raises a single brow before brushing his fingers over the light on the wall and turning it back off.

"Rough?" He rasps, striding forward to cup your face. "Can I cum in you?"

The question short circuits your brain, negating any anger or reason for your anger at the request. "Oh, fuck. Please?" You squeak and he grasps your face in his hands, bruising your lips with his. His mouth tastes like spotchka and his teeth are eager to bite.

He kisses over your jaw as his hands drop to drag your body back against his. He's an effective amnesia to your poor broken heart. His hands feel good as they tug at clothing. You don't quite register doing the same. Not when his teeth are nipping at your neck and speeding up your heart rate.

Dank ferrik, it felt good to grind your stimulated groin over his with less fabric in the way. You both gasp into the night.

You push away the guilt that nubbed up in your mind. No. He rejected you. Din rejected every advance. You had no reason to feel guilt.

Still it lingers in the corner. Watching through a tinted visor and looming.

Cobb tilts you back onto the bed, groaning deeply into your shoulder. "Do you want to cum again, first?"

"N-no, just, just put it in," you groan. "Just wanna feel full." It earns you a shaky groan of approval.

Without warning he grips your hips and flips you onto your stomach. A sharp smack lands on your ass, letting you moan softly. He sits upright, lining up with you in the dark.

You whimper when you feel his cock rub once over you before he's aligned. Then he sinks in and that delicious stretch has you gasping as he slides home. There is a drawn moment where you both soak up that initial cure of need. Then he sets a fast pace, drilling deeply.

A hand closes on the back of your neck, tightening.

"Are you enjoying this?" Din's modulated voice asks in your ear, mockingly. He's not actually there of course, only serving to piss you off more. Because you know how much better it'd feel if it was him splitting your ass in two.

You brace against the bed. Pushing back harder and moaning. It makes the hand twist around your throat and jerk you back against Cobb. The change in position makes you whimper. You reach back for hair, guiding his mouth to yours.

Cobb seems to understand that the roughness is urging him to kick up his own. His hand on you hip snatches one of your breasts to squeeze. You break away to whimper and catch more silver.

"Do you think I'll be here every time you fuck someone now?" The Din-Delusion taunts as he lounges on the pillows comfortably. You were definitely going to have a psychological break after this one night stand.

He's so annoying that even the delicious grunts that rise from your new lover is hard to focus on.

"Harder." You rasp. You're tossed to the bed as Vanth crawls across you.

"You can call his name if it makes you feel better," he rumbles as he sinks back into your cervix with a hard thrust. His fingers dig into your thighs.

"Call it out," Not-Din chuckles. "Cry my name loud enough I can hear it across the street. Maybe that'll spur me on." It's dripping with so much sarcasm as your head nearly knocks into his leg that isn't actually there.

"No," you snarl at the figment of your guilty conscience. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and cry out when his hips canter harder into you. You claw at his back, earning happy groans and him twitching inside you.

"Yeah, probably a better idea. If you call put my name I might think your in trouble and shoot the bastard."

"I'm gonna fuck you a-again. Cl-close."

"Cum in me, Vanth!" you cry louder than intended. His hand tangles roughly in your hair, exposing your throat to new assault. Fuck, you'll ache tomorrow, you hope.

"That's it, baby girl," Not-Din coos. "Louder, maybe that'll make me respect you enough to see you as more than just a kid. Maybe I'll see you in sexual manner."

Vanth's hips stutter as he spills inside of you. He pants against your neck for a moment and then draws back to flash you with a dazzling smile, even in the dark. "It'll take me a minute to recharge. Can I go down on you?"

It makes you blink in surprise, even Not-Din tilts his helmet with curiosity at the sweaty man on top of you.

"You... you just came in me though..." you protest weakly.

"So, it's mine." He drops down to snatch a nipple into his mouth, delighted.

You give a moan. "Ye-yeah, knock yourself out, Vanth." He drags you to the edge of the bed to throw your legs over his shoulders. It feels so lewd to have him lapping so hungerly at you while his own cum spilled out of you.

"Filthy girl, aren't you?" Din growls out, moving around behind Vanth to watch casually. Why did that turn you on? Having the Mandalorian watching as another man devoured you. You liked it, when the man between your legs moaned against your sex.

He was decent at it. Obviously doing it more for himself at this point than for you. But between the sexual frustration that had been building for months and the overstimulation, it wasn't taking very long to bring you to a second orgasm.

All the while Not-Din leaned back and watch, taunting you and mocking you. "You really said let's throw it all away for a fuck." That line got you.

Vanth was lapping at your oversensitive clit, pulling the hood back and relishing the sobs of pleasure. But it wasn't just a sob of pleasure. Tears rolled over your temples and into your hair as your legs quake. Your chest ached as you begged him not to stop, hoping another orgasm might drown out the despair that this wasn't the man you wanted.

He was a poor substitute to reconcile your hurt feelings. You regret it already, as you knew you would. But that doesn't stop you from screwing him for a few more hours.

Eventually all is quiet, the both of you lying in the dark, catching your breath and coming down from your highs. And you watched as the vision of Din faded, feeling more empty now than you had before. "Thanks," you murmur into the dark and sit up before exhaustion fully takes you.

"Hey," he calls into the dark, the only light trickling in from the port window. "I know heart break is absolutely soul crushing, but there will be others. I promise. Someday it won't hurt so bad." You flinch when a hand brushes down your spine.

Self hatred seeped from you with the finishings Cobb left in you. "I'm gonna go," you manage, standing on sore legs to collect your clothes.

"Alright."

There's nothing but the shuffle of clothes as you get dressed. That was the last thing either of you spoke to each other before you stepped out onto the porch and into the cool night air.

#din djarin x reader #din x you #din x reader #reader insert #cobb vanth #din djarin #smut #angst #dont worry you bang din next

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dinsrose · 4 years ago

Text

My Center of Happiness

Din Djarin X Female Reader One Shot

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Praise Kink, Soft Din, Swearing

Summary: Reader and Din stargaze together, and it basically just turns into pure porn. If soft smut, fluff, and praise kink are your thing, you have come to the right place.

You can read the one shot here as well on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30192981

Here’s a song that reminds me of the fic

Here’s a song to listen to as you read the one-shot. It reminds me of Din and Rose in this particular scene.

The stars are perfect tonight. They twinkle and dance throughout the sky while shining brighter than you have ever seen them. There must be a meteor shower tonight as well, because you occasionally catch a glimpse of a falling star soaring through the atmosphere. These are your favorite nights. The nights where the galaxy is so quiet and kind. The clear skies make for the most beautiful scenery. One of your favorite things to do, is find the constellations in the sky.

Many people do not care for the stars, but you always have. When you were little, you used to look up at the sky and make countless wishes for a better life. The sky held so many opportunities in your mind. Your mother always told you that when you wished upon a falling star, the wish would always come true. You just could not tell anyone about the wish. Ever since she told you that, you spent almost every night wishing and talking to the sky. Wishing for a better life, a life where you and your family could be free. A life where you could fly away with your mother and father, living on the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. You always wondered what was out there.

Tatooine had been your home planet for your whole life, but you knew there were greater places out there. It used to drive you crazy, knowing that you would never get to leave that damn planet. You come from a family of slaves. It was a given that you would always be a slave, and never get out of the lifestyle. Especially considering you were the only one left of your family. You had convinced yourself that your life would always be the same. That you would never leave that sandy planet and be doomed to work every waking minute until you died off from exhaustion. Until one day, a bounty hunter came barreling into your owner's cantina to take him in. You never would have imagined this bounty hunter would turn your whole world upside down. This bounty hunter, Din, has given you everything you could ever want and need in this life.

When he offered to let you be a crewmate on his ship, and help take care of his adorable little green sidekick, you didn't even hesitate before shaking his hand in agreement. The past few months with them have been nothing short of amazing. The kid has grown to be as one of your own. You love him more than anything, and you couldn't imagine life without him. His father has become a huge part of your life as well. You are now part of a small, happy family; a clan of three.

The memories of the past few months cause you to smile as you lay back in the grass. Din had parked the Crest here on Naboo in a secluded area for the next few days. A few days to take a short break from everything for just a moment. After catching a glimpse of the sky, you had decided tonight would be the perfect night to stargaze. Din was asleep in the ship, along with the baby. The hatch had been left open anyways, because you wanted to get some fresh air. You had tiptoed down the hatch to a small spot in the grass about 20 feet from the ship. A spot that was perfect enough to lay down in and have a good view of the sky.

The cool breeze whipped all around you, causing the long blades of grass to slowly dance in the wind. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers. Everything here was just perfect. This was most definitely your favorite planet of them all. It had a special beauty about it, something just different from the others. The greenery here was unlike any other you had ever seen. The place was almost too perfect to be true. If Heaven was a place, you imagined this is what it would be like; on Naboo... in the flower fields... baby on your hip, and Din right beside you.

"What are you doing out here? And... why are you laying on the ground?" You hear his modulated voice ring out from behind you. Glancing up as far as you can, you see his figure come into view standing right above you. The moonlight reflects off his beskar as he towers above you. He just stands there in silence. There is just something about his silence that makes him so... sexy.

"Stargazing," you reply with a smile on your face. "I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was... and then I saw you were missing and got worried." He replies.

A grunt comes out from under his helmet as he starts to lower himself down towards you. He pushes his knees back and puts his palms on either side of your head, his helmet barely two inches away from your nose. He hovers there, the two of you facing opposite directions, and butterflies begin filling your stomach. You reach up slowly and place your hands on either side of his helmet. The beskar is cool to the touch as you pull his head down gently. You plant a gentle kiss right on the top of his helmet where his forehead would be. A smile spreads across your face as you pull back to look into the black visor.

"Join me, shiny." You say softly.

"How could I say no to that?" He says with a light chuckle.

He slowly rolls over to the side and onto his back. With your bodies facing opposite directions, he lines his head up right to the side of yours. If he did not have the helmet on, his ear would be the only part of him touching you; or maybe some soft, curly hair. You have never seen it, of course, but you have felt it a few times. He has removed it before while you were blindfolded, to gain access to your lips with his. And oh Maker, his lips were the softest lips you had ever kissed. His hair the fluffiest hair you had ever ran your fingers through. Thinking about it sent shivers through your core.

"What are we looking at here?" He asks. His voice sends vibrations through the helmet, and it tickles your ear.

"Well, for one, I am looking for constellations. I am also talking to my good friend Ada up there." You reply with a giggle. Ada was a name you and your mother had given to a star when you were younger. It was a silly joke to you now, but it still held very sentimental value to you.

"Ada?" He questions.

"Yes. My good friend Ada. My mother used to tell me that the stars were our very good friends, and that they would grant us wishes. So, naturally, as a child, I truly believed the stars could hear me." You giggled before continuing. "One night, I decided to name one of them, because if that star was going to grant me a wish, it had to be a special friend of mine. I shared my thoughts with my mother, and we both decided Ada was a good name." A small smile comes across your face as your voice begins to fade. "It's silly now, but something about it still holds sentimental value to me... so I talk to Ada to this day. Especially when I miss my mother." A frown replaces your smile as a wave of sadness washes over your body.

He goes quiet for a moment. All you can hear is the two of you breathing, and the wind whipping through the night air.

"So... the stars are special beings to us?" He finally asks.

"Yeah...something like that. My mother told me that they were their own individual being, just like us. That a specific star picked us to grant our wishes. That one star spent its whole existence, to make us happy. Basically, that star is a very special presence in our lives, and it is the sole center of our happiness. Everything good we receive in this life comes from that star. So, I think that makes them pretty special." You reply as you turn your head to the side to glance at him.

He lays there for another few minutes in silence. The moon reflects off his visor as he looks up into the sky. Looking over at him sends a warm feeling through you. Does he know that he is the center of your whole existence?

His finger suddenly points up to the sky. "You see that big star right there?" He says softly.

Following his finger, you can tell which one he is talking about almost immediately. It is much bigger than all the others. It has a pink tint to it as well. Somehow, it is much more beautiful than any other star up there. It dances in unison with the others as you watch it, waiting for him to continue.

"It shines brighter than the rest. It's prettier too... looks like a pink tint to it." He continues. "That's Rose... I am naming it Rose." His helmet turns to the side as he looks at your face. "If I have to name it something because it is the source of my happiness... it is going to be named appropriately."

Warmth floods throughout your entire body. "Rose" That is the nickname he had given to you about two weeks after the two of you had met. He had found out it was your middle name, and decided he really liked the sound of it, so that is the name he has called you ever since. Tears well up in your eyes at his sentiment. He just named a star after you, for the sole purpose of getting his point across that you are the source of his happiness. Nothing makes you happier than knowing that you make him as happy as he makes you. That has become your sole purpose in life, to make him happy.

"Din... " You whisper. Not really knowing what to say, you give him a small smile in hopes he understands the depth of your feelings for him.

His body shifts as he pulls himself around and lays down directly beside you. He props his elbow up on his neck so that he can face you on his side. He looks so perfect in the moonlight, even if you cannot see an inch of his skin.

"My sweet, Rose." He breathes out as he reaches up. His thumb starts grazing the side of your cheek as you close your eyes. His thumb trails every feature of your face as he lets it explore. Din has been really big on touch ever since the first time you let him touch you. After years of being deprived from the feeling himself, he can't get enough of it. You feel the leather graze gently across your eyelashes and down your nose before landing on your lips. He gently pushes his thumb inward as he trails it across your bottom lip.

"Keep your eyes closed." You hear him say.

A puzzled expression crosses your face, but you do as he says. His hand leaves the side of your face, leaving it feeling bare. He shuffles around a moment before you feel his soft hand reach back up, uncovered. He took his gloves off. His hand snakes around to the side of your head and holds it firmly at the base of your neck. Before you can ask what he is doing, a soft pair of lips lightly connect with yours. Maker, he had taken off his helmet.

The thought of it startles you slightly as you jolt back a little, careful not to open your eyes. He had never taken it off before without having you blindfolded in some way. Did he really trust you this much? Deciding that you do not care, you lean forward, wanting to taste him once again.

Electricity sparks throughout your entire body as your lips collide with his. A light moan escapes your lips as you taste the sweet flavor of his lips. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to grant him entry. His hands reach up and firmly grab both of your cheeks to steady your mouth right where he wants it. He can do anything he wants. You are in the palm of his hands and he doesn't even know it.

His body suddenly shifts, and he rolls on top of you. He straddles your hips with his legs, and places his elbows down on either side of your head. His lips never leave yours as he smoothly makes the transition. Your fingers reach up and tangle themselves in soft, wavy hair. The kiss suddenly becomes desperate, the both of you taking as much as you can from one another.

You let out a soft moan and pull back. "Din..." You whine.

"Tell me what you want." He replies.

His body freezes while waiting for your response. He hovers over you, keeping his eyes trained on you. Not that you can see it, you can just feel when his eyes are on you. It sends a shiver through your body. His weight shifts on top of you as he slowly drags one hand down your stomach. Warmth begins to flood your center as his hand reaches your thigh. He grips it firmly before asking again.

"Use your words, Rose. Tell me what you want." He repeats.

His demeanor makes you shudder, it drives you up a wall when he gets like this. Letting out a shaky breath, you try to speak.

"Yo- you," is all you manage to squeak out.

That is all it takes for him to act. His fingers start to slowly make their way up to your center, which is already soaking wet. His fingers come up to the top of your pants, and start to tug them down. He takes his other hand and wraps it around the base of your back, lifting you up to help ease off your pants. With one swift movement, he yanks them down to your ankles, taking your underwear with them.

His fingers instantly start making there way back up the inside of your leg. A gasp escapes your lips as the anticipation begins building in your stomach. Instead of landing his fingers right where you want them, he skips over your center and makes his way to the base of your shirt. You try not to whine out in disappointment.

He lifts your shirt up and over your head in one swift movement. His other hand is still holding your body off the ground. Your body is gently lowered back to the ground as he sits himself up. The only thing you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling through the air.

"You're so beautiful, Rose." You hear him breathe out. His breath hitches in his throat as he brings his hands down to rest on your chest. His finger starts to trace the outline of your breast until he reaches the peak of your nipple.

"My beautiful girl," he continues.

He leans down slowly, and presses his lips to the top of your breast. He begins kissing all over every inch of your chest as gently as he can. His lips leave an electrifying feeling on your skin everywhere they touch.

After a few seconds, he starts to trail his kisses upwards until he reaches the top of your neck. He starts sucking and biting the side of your neck as his hand slowly makes its way back down your stomach.

Your thighs are already soaked from what little he has already done. You can feel the wetness dripping down the back of your upper legs.

His fingers finally make light contact with your center, and it almost causes you to scream. Your back arches into his touch as he pushes down onto your clit. He begins to rub slow, small circles around with his thumb as he continues to suck on your neck. There will be bruises there. He loves to leave his mark on you.

"You know you always look so good when I mark you up." He growls into your ear.

Your moans begin to ring throughout the air as he speeds up the circular motion on your clit. The sensation is almost overwhelming. His lips come up to your ear as he lets out a grunt.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this, cyar'ika?" He growls.

A whimper escapes your lips in response. His thumb stops almost instantly when you don't answer his question. It almost makes you cry out.

"Din... please," you beg.

He slides his fingers through your folds and slowly pushes into your entrance. It almost makes your eyes pop open, so you squeeze them even tighter so as not to accidentally open them. His thick fingers fill you up and stretch you open. He curves them up slightly, an pushes them against that sweet spot deep in your center. As soon as he finds the right spot, he begins to glide his fingers slowly in and out, making sure to hit that spot each time he glides across.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you arch your back. The sensation is overwhelming. Instead of seeing the actual stars, you are now seeing stars from the back of your eyelids as the pressure begins building in your lower stomach. The sensations cause you to start writhing beneath him. His hand comes down hard on your stomach and pushes you into the ground; forcing you to stop moving.

"Relax, sweet thing, just relax." He says as he pushes you into the ground.

"Din, please... I need you closer." You whine out.

His fingers suddenly pull out of you, leaving you feeling empty. The pressure in your stomach is almost unbearable at this point. He begins to shuffle around, and you are about to ask what he is doing until you feel his hard cock rub up against your inner thigh.

Maker, he's hard as a rock. He wastes no time lining up and pushing into you. He's so fucking thick. A loud gasp escapes your lips, and your body shoots forward. As if he knows what it would do to you, his other hand clamps over your eyes as they begin to open.

"Fucking perfect," He growls out. He starts to move at a slow pace, stretching you out as he does. "Maker... you're so- so ti- tight." He grunts.

His chest comes down to meet with yours as he continues to fuck you at a slow pace. Hand still clamped over your eyes, he brings his lips down to yours and kisses you hard. You moan into his mouth as you open it to let his tongue gain entry. He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth as he lets go. His hand slides away from your eyes.

"Keep being good for me," He breathes out as he begins stroking your hair. His cock is ripping you open, but doing it so gently it almost makes you want to cry. His lips begin to leave small kisses all over every inch of your face.

"You feel incredible." He breathes out after he leaves a kiss on on the top of your eyelid.

He suddenly puts his hand under the arch of your back, and lifts you up into a sitting position. His cock is still inside of you when he settles you down onto his lap. The both of you are facing each other in a sitting position. You moan as you wrap your arms around his neck to gain some balance.

"Now be good, and start moving." He instructs.

You slowly start to move your hips and bounce on top of him. His cock hits you so much deeper at this angle, you have to squeeze your eyes really tight to keep from accidentally opening them. His hands are everywhere. Stroking your sides, cupping your breasts, scratching down your back... just everywhere.

"There you go sweet thing, just like that." He growls into your ear.

Your hips begin to stutter as you feel the pressure in your lower abdomen building. Desperate for the taste of him, you pull back and put your lips onto his. He moans into your mouth as he pulls you in close and locks his arms around your back. He pulls back from your mouth and moves his head down to your chest. His lips lock around around one of your nipples and he starts sucking. You throw your head back, letting out a loud moan. The pressure is building... building... building...

"Cum for me," He grunts into your ear.

That is all it takes. Stars begin to streak the back of your eyelids as you reach your peak. You let out a loud moan as you continue to bounce on his cock and ride out your high. Your fingers and toes begin to tingle, and you clamp down around his cock as you start to shudder.

Your pace starts to fade until you finally stop. You lean your head over onto his shoulder and sit on his lap for a moment, trying to regain your breath. His cock still inside you, he grabs your back and swings you back, pushing you into the dirt.

Without any warning he slams himself as deep into you as he can go. A strangled whimper escapes your lips as your nails dig into his back. He starts railing into you as hard as he possibly can. It feels like he is ripping you open, but in a good way.

"Feel so fucking good." He growls as he hammers into you. He continues giving you sweet praises as he chases his own high.

"My perfect girl... so fucking perfect." He starts to gasp and stutter as he praises you.

His hips begin to falter, as he gets close to his own orgasm. He leans over and bites down hard onto your shoulder as he begins to let out a soft moan. You can feel him emptying himself into you as he pants and gasps for air, filling you up to the brim.

He brings his lips to yours, and gives you a long kiss as you grab his cheeks with your hands to hold him steady. When he finally breaks away, the both of you just sit there for a moment, panting and gasping for air. His cock is starting to soften inside of you, but he is so thick, it doesn't fall out.

"Are you okay?" He says softly as he strokes your hair back from your eyes.

"I'm more than okay." You breathe out as a smile breaks out on your face. Your hands make their way to his face and begin to caress his cheeks. The both of you sit there for a moment, just feeling each other. He begins to say something, then stutters.

"Hmm? What did you say?" You ask as you stroke his hair.

"Ni... kar'tayl gar... darasuum." He finally says. Having no clue what he is saying, you let out a giggle.

"Din... what does that mean?"

"You'll know one day, my Rose." He replies. His body starts to roll off of you, and you can feel his cock slide out of you. It leaves an empty feeling in the pit of your core. A soft material covers your body as he wraps something around you. His cape. He fastens it at the neck, and continues with the task at hand. A few moments pass as you lay there, eyes still shut, waiting for him to give you the okay. A warmth has settled in over your body, and all you want to do is stay right here in this moment. A hand sweeps under you and you screech out as he lifts you into the air and into his chest.

"Okay, you can look" He says.

As you open your eyes, you can see that he has put his helmet back on, and has your clothes draped over his shoulder. He begins packing you back towards the Crest, when he stops so suddenly you think something is wrong.

"I know you, Rose." He says softly.

"And I know you" you say as you lift your hands and place them on either side of his helmet.

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #din djarin #soft din djarin #smut #fluff #mando x reader #mando #din and reader

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all-hallows-evie · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: Marooned

Rating: T, for language, Canon Typical Violence/Action. Honestly, this chapter isn't that bad, the T rating is just in case I forgot about something lol

Wordcount: 3,776

Warnings: Canon typical violence and adventure, female OC with name × Tech slowburn, but not too slow lol, NOT BETA'D, because if I have to stare at this first chapter again I'm not going to post it.

A/N: HAPPY TECH TUESDAY, LOOK I'M FINALLY POSTING SOMETHING, WHEEEEEEEEEEE

There were bad ideas, really bad ideas and then there was this.

The ship hums under her feet as it trudges through the far corner of the mid rim, chugging along on it’s route without any sign of trouble or disruption from it’s preplanned course.

It should have been a routine pillaging, something she had placed firmly in the ‘great ideas’ list but instead it had turned into a routine mutiny and finished the day as a routine marooning. She sighs as she lays her head back against the seamless panel behind her.

Fucking pirates.

She has been stranded on the old freighter for at least two moons, but it was hard to say with certainty. The droids that man the ship have no need to eat so more often than not they forget to pass along anything to keep her mounting hunger at bay, adding along to the lack of any kind of panel to the outside world, getting her bearings is proving to be more difficult than usual.

She hisses a swear to drown out the low growl of her belly and focuses her gaze on the far corner of the room. Another day, another chance to count the diamond shaped tiles above her cell, she swears the number changes every other time she counts. She doesn’t get farther than eighteen when the door of the maintenance room blows open.

The dust fills the room, hiding everything under its grimy shadow. The grit in the air crackles as it’s pushed against the red of the electron walls that keep her prisoner with the ships cooling coils and a water filtration unit that has calcified and has never been fixed.

"Well look at that, we found it! Lucky break!"

"Luck had nothing to do with it, if you had studied the schematics of this cruiser like I had asked-"

"Yeah yeah yeah." The first figure, a hulking shadow in the doorway brushes off the smaller one as he stomps into the suddenly too tiny room.

"The memory core should be at the end of the-" the smaller of the two figures stops in front of her cell as the big one charges towards the end of the room without stopping. They launch themselves into the piles of junk thrown haphazardly inside, "That's concerning."

"Concerning? You see someone in a cage and you go with ‘concerning’?" She replies as she pulls herself up to standing. She takes in his armor, modified clone armor from the looks of it painted pale with a bright red stripe down his chest, his eyes slightly magnified by the goggles on his face, the rest hidden by the elongated helmet.

"According to the intel we were provided there weren't supposed to be life forms aboard." He seems irritated to see her.

"Good old Republic intel, still living up to its reputation."

The other clone approaches, he rips open the metal box in his hands and yanks out the core as if the casing was made of thick flimsy and nothing more, "I've got the thing, time to go!"

She watches, dumbstruck for a moment as her ticket out starts to head for the gaping maw that used to be a door, "Wait, you're taking the old database?" The two of them stop and turn, "It's not complete! It's missing pieces of the coordinates!" Firefek she didn't want to sound desperate but she was.

"Likely story-" The big one chuckles.

"I was trying to steal it too, I almost got all of it before my crew turned on me!"

"A mercenary or a pirate? No matter, I trust you even less now."

She had never wanted to punch anyone's face as hard as she wanted to punch his, "Check the core Goggles, I swear to you! It's missing pieces!" He hesitates and in that baited pause she knows she has him, "Please, just let me out and drop me off wherever you dock next. You can have my data chip. No harm, no foul, just get me out."

The one with the goggles glares at her, the yellow tinted transparisteel of his visor snapping downl before he turns to the bigger man. Klaxons ring all around as he scans the core with a handheld device, but it's taking up time they do not have.

The two clones share a look, silently deciding her fate.

The bigger one caves first, "Aww c'mon Tech, we can't leave her! You saw what's on this ship, she'll be a goner on some mining planet!"

"Under normal circumstances I might agree but she's caged for a purpose, and I'm disinclined to put any trust in her."

"How much damage can she do? She’s smaller than you are!"

Tech, the one in the goggles, sighs before he turns back around to face her, "If we spring you, you play by our rules. You follow our orders, no complaints, no rebuttals and if you put one toe out of line-"

"Out the airlock, understood." She nods furiously, hands pressed against the panel as she watches Tech short out the electron wall holding her hostage, the panel shudders and then it spews sparks on to the ground as the red fades and she's finally able to step through.

"Lets go shortie!"

"Wait, let me just grab-" She scrambles to the other side of the wall, trying to pull at something from the top of a shelf. The bigger clone reaches over and tosses the crate to the floor. She throws open the top and snatches out a bantha leather bag and a helmet.

"Run!"

Tech doesn't have to tell her twice, the three of them bolt out of the door and into the corridor, the lights above flash in time with the klaxons. There is a low rumble that joins the hum of the hyperspace engine, as whatever security droids are on board begin to activate.

"Back to the ship, short stuff!"

The three of them book it down the darkened halls, ducking behind walls and crates as the first cluster of security droids pass through.

She tosses her bag across her shoulder, slinging it against one side of her hip, clipping it into place with snaps sewn into her jacket. They watch three more droids pass them by before she speaks again, "My name's Nox, by the way."

"Doesn't sound like a girl's name." The big one chuckles, so deep and rumbling it almost feels like a growl.

"Well it's the only name I've got. My parents named me a bit of a mouthful, Nox just works better."

"Clear." Tech calls out and they continue on their way heading to the service hangar where their ship hopefully was waiting for them.

"How'd you end up out here?" The big one asks, with every flash of light above them she can see more of the large scary face painted roughly on his helmet, lines thrown on haphazardly only to be scraped away by carbon scoring.

She is about to answer when she is shoved back into a corner by Tech. He slaps a hand over her mouth before she can yelp, the leather slightly singed, it smells of electricity and grease.

“Wait.”

"I'm getting tired of all this sneaking around, I say we blow our way outta here!" The big one growls.

"We’re almost there Wrecker, it would be pointless to try now."

She shoves Tech's Hand away, "Blow your way out of here, are you insane? With the amount of baby on board you'd blow us into the next dimension!"

There are a few beats of silence before both helmets turn towards her.

"Baby?" Wrecker repeats but is shushed by Tech.

"You don't mean baradium-"

"Bisulfate? I absolutely do! There were containers of the stuff in the holding bay."

"This Imperial ship is headed somewhere to mine thorilide?" He repeats, tone stressed over every syllable in the word ‘Imperial’.

"That or some unlucky planet is about to be wiped from existence."

"The location of the Republic thorilide mines have been kept under the utmost security for ages, not even the Jedi Council was ever advised of its location."

"Can’t say I blame them, I barely trust them with those glowy sticks of death." She murmurs, making lightsaber sounds with her mouth as Wrecker snickers.

"Stop that. Do you know where this ship was heading? Do you have a copy of the manifest?"

"What, your amazing Republic recce didn't get you that information shiny?" He glares back at her, brows pinching together behind the dark frames of his goggles, "Maker! Did those cloners take your sense of humor? Yes, I know where this ship is going."

"Bet Cid’s contact would pay more for that bit of info." Wrecker’s grin can be heard even through the plastoid of his helmet.

Tech meanwhile has typed something to a com on his wrist, "Hunter, there's been a complication."

"What kind of complication?"

"There is more on board this ship than just the republic database-"

"What do you mean?"

"This ship is a mining vessel, out to mine thorilide."

Tech’s wrist comm goes silent, just quiet static while the voice on the other line thinks, "Ordinance?"

Both clones look at her, she nods emphatically, "Ordinance, med supplies, if there was coaxium on board I wouldn't be surprised, this place is the motherlode."

"Quite a bit of supplies on board, it would seem."

The comm goes quiet again for a few moments, "We don't have time for this, it's only a matter of time before they realize that your cruiser is stolen. Grab what you went in for and leave."

Tech shakes his head, it's so tiny and quick that if she wasn't looking at him in that moment she would have missed it, "Where is it being kept?"

"Up, five or so floors unless I've miscounted."

"Tech, Wrecker, Get out of there, now!" The voice on the other end grows more and more irritable as they stand around in silence.

"We'll be out as soon as possible." Tech replies curtly as he cuts the comm. He makes it sound so easy like they were stopping by the nearest market to pick up fruit, instead of about to hijack high quality explosives from Imperial custody, "Lead the way."

"What? Just like that?"

"Are there, or are there not these items on board?"

"Yes."

"You swear?" Wrecker leans in close, hovering over her.

"Yeah."

Tech nods, "Vital signs are stable, no signs of heightened stress-"

"What if I'm just a really good liar?"

"You can try all you want my dear, but the data doesn't lie."

"Does he do this to you too? I'm finding it a bit creepy-" She asks Wrecker as her eyebrow raises.

"You get used to it."

"Weird, so weird…" she mutters to herself as she turns and peeks around the corner. She looks around for anything that is familiar, when she sees a maintenance lift at the very end of the hall to the right. She motions them forward, and silently they sneak their way closer to the lift. She turns her attention to her side as she digs in her bag, her fingers grasp at the odd collection of junk in her pockets until her hand finally wraps around the cool metal of her code cylinder and she can finally stop holding her breath.

Tech's hand on her shoulder pulls her back to the task on hand as he drags her back a few steps. The catwalk above them from here to the lift is no more than a shoddy looking set of grates that creak as a group of security droids march along their patrol, oblivious to the three of them below.

“The maintenance lift?" Tech sniffs as they come to a stop at its doors. He raises hand to push his goggles back into place, "Perhaps you have failed to notice but none of us are maintenance droids, the moment you try to access that panel they will -”

“They’ll what?” She asks as she jams the cylinder into the port, the lift clicks open silently and she steps inside.

“The alarms-”

“What alarms? According to this," she snaps her code cylinder from the panel and drops it back into her bag, lost again to the chaos of the random junk held within, "I'm a maintenance droid doing routine inspections. How stupid do you think I am?”

"Hey hey, this one's pretty smart huh Tech?!" Wrecker is thrilled.

"Pirate." She reminds, "You don't see many my age that aren't intelligent and I'll give you one guess as to why."

The doors silently click open and before they can step out a team of at least half a dozen well armed sentry droids roll past.

They all leap from the inside of the lift and fall into a crouch behind a stack of supply crates. They wait for a few moments before Tech quickly peeks over, "They don't seem to have spotted us."

"Fuck, there weren't this many when we tried this the first time." She swears a few more times under her breath.

"We should do this my way." Wrecker offers.

"What's that mean, what does he mean?!" Nox looks nervously over to Tech, "He doesn't mean-?"

"Explosives and violence? He absolutely does," Tech sighs, “ and I'm afraid we are running low on options and even lower on time. Wrecker, what does your ordinance look like?"

“But you said I couldn't bring any?”

“Yes, and when was the last time you actually listened?”

Wrecker, the fun if not absolutely homicidal one, pulls out a couple of detonators, a roll of plastic tape, a half dozen hand grenades and three droid poppers.

“Great, nice to know you could have turned us into a small sun if I hadn't told you about the baby on board.”

"Everything save for the poppers is far too dangerous to use around those crates." Tech hisses, "Any more of those brilliant pirate ideas floating around in your head?"

She chews on her lip for a moment, wracking her brain for anything else that might be useful as she ignores Tech's sarcastic tone. Apart from the crates on this floor littered with treasure, there didn't seem to be anything of any use...except for the busted water filter. “How big of a distraction do you think it would take to get all those sentries away from the haul?”

“It would need to be something quite large or destructive enough to threaten the integrity of the ship.”

“The water filtration system on board is completely calcified, I don't think it was ever fixed since there are only droids on board. If you could flood that with enough pressure the entire pipe should burst-”

“And flood the entire floor, along with the engine room, that might just do it.” He’s on his data pad before the words are even out of his mouth, he scans the room all around and matches it with the wireframe schematics on his screen. He stalks his way backwards until he finds the panel he is looking for. He pops it open easily and then begins to slice into the mainframe of the ship, “On my count, take Wrecker to wherever the baby is, let him handle it. You get your hands on as much of the medical supplies as you can, the security onboard is a little tighter than I would have preferred so I will have to stay here and continue to flood the filter.”

“Oh, easy.”

“Think you can handle all that tiny?” Wrecker’s thundering chuckle threatens to give away their location even with the steady moan of the alarms overhead.

She grins, Wrecker is back to being the fun one, “Try and keep up.”

There is a sound of roaring water all around them as tech funnels every liquid on the ship into the filter, then a sound like an explosion a couple of feet below them rocks the ship like a lightning strike.

The sound of the alarm overhead changes as every droid on the floor turns away and heads to a lowering platform, all instructed to assist with the burst pipe.

“That’s our cue!”

She shoves Wrecker forward playfully before they both break into a sprint toward the storage rooms where their bounty is being held. She points to one of the rooms as they approach, "This one's your big boy!"

The door is sealed shut, but not for long. Wrecker doesn't slow, instead he hunches low, bringing his shoulders down and tucking his chin into the collar of his armor before he barrels straight through, punching a hole through the doors with enough force to make even her teeth rattle.

She dips into the storage room across the hall, thanking the stars that her haul wasn't locked away like his was. She rips open any crate within arms reach, tossing open the tops and letting them scatter around the room wherever they land. She snatches bacta patches and hypos by the handful and packs the crate as full as she can, slamming her entire body weight against it to get it to close. She drags it out into the hall, placing it by the door before she bolts into the room right beside the one Wrecker is standing in.

Wrecker watches her disappear into the room, the four small crates of explosives tucked carefully under his arms, “Wait, where are you-”

His question is answered as another crate hits the floor beside him. She comes running out of the room, grabbing this second crate by the handle and yanking it along, “Perfect! Not a single explosion! Love that for me!”

Wrecker bends down to offer her a hand but she has already snatched up the first trunk and is flying down the hall with them. She's faster than Wrecker would have believed she would be capable of with the two crates almost her height. She almost trips over herself as she stops and with a swift kick, the second crate lands at Tech's feet, “Come on 20/20, cut her loose, let's go!”

“What’s in that- I specifically ordered you to only carry medical supplies.”

“Yeah well, it sounds like you are used to not being listened to so, ship. Now!”

Wrecker races past, hopping off of the side and down to the level below, the halls are empty as all hands are called to help with the floor that is flooding.

Nox peeks over the side, she watches as Wrecker sets the small boxes of baby down beside him, "Toss your crate!" He calls up. She nods and yanks the crates handle, flipping it up and off of the edge with a nudge from Tech.

She helps him in turn, as they gingerly haul the crate full of ordinance over the edge before tossing it below.

Wrecker sets the crates to one side before turning back to catch Nox, but she's already climbing down. Her fingers dig into spots on the wall where she should not be able to have any grip. She finds her own way down and with a little hop, lands right beside Wrecker as Tech lands beside her. The clang of his boots echoes down the empty hallway. "We'll need to make our way through the flooded floor of the ship in order to get back to the hangar." Tech types away at his data pad again before picking up the side of his crate.

Nox follows close beside the two clones, tossing the crate up onto her back to avoid making any unnecessary scraping sounds as they get closer to the flooded area, the sound of pouring water gets louder and louder with every floor. The next floor they walk through has the water barely deep enough to wash over the toes of their boots, but it rises rapidly after that. By the time they are on the same floor as the hangar, the water has risen up to their knees and Nox has a harder time trying to distract her mind from where all of this stagnant water has been hiding this whole time.

“Holding out ok over there tiny?” Wrecker chuckles.

She turns to answer, when everything becomes...not alright. Her next step slips out from under her and she goes flying forward, crashing face first into the dark disgusting water, the crate on her back keeping her under the surface as she struggles to pull herself back up to standing.

A hand at the back of her collar pulls her back up into fresh air, slimy water pours from her mouth and nose as she gags. She doesn't need to clear the water from her eyes to know what the dark figures that are starting to line the hallway are. Tech and Wrecker are on either side of her, blasters raised as the sentry droids file in.

“I'm hoping you can fight better than you can swim.” Tech calls over as Wrecker leaps over them both and charges straight into one of the sentries. Tech keeps a few of the others at bay, clipping them with bright bolts from his twin deecees, but it's not enough. She rubs the slime from her face and charges right behind Wrecker, using her entire body to check a droid in her path, she grabs the blaster from its hands as it goes tumbling backwards and into the water. Techs shots ring out around her as he stays behind, watching over the crates behind him. Wrecker tears through any droids that get within reach, sparks flying on to the water before they sizzle and die. She concentrates her fire on any droids Tech misses until the hall is clear.

"There'll be a second platoon on their way, we better get a move on." Tech calls back to them, she tosses the almost empty blaster into the water beside her.

"Are you always just, you know?" She makes growling and ripping sounds at Wrecker.

He laughs, "Not often enough."

She stifles her laughter behind her hand as she walks back to where Tech is to retrieve the case of medical supplies, for a brief moment the last couple of days are forgotten and even the slime on her skin is the last thing on her mind. For a brief moment she was back with her men, waiting for that score of a lifetime, but when she grabs the handle of the crate and looks back it’s the clone armor that reminds her she is in fact alone. The sudden quiet of sadness doesnt last long as the doors behind them open and a new series of drods begin their march towards them.

“Incoming!”

-----

Tag list: @themarvelbunch @agentwhiskeysdarlin @pascalisthepunkest @ashotofspotchka

#tbb #tech #the bad batch #Tech Tuesday #the bad batch x oc #the bad batch fic #tech x oc #evie struggles with writing #star wars fanfiction #tbb tech

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uponrightful · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chance Ch. 6

Read Chapter Five Here

Warnings: Injury, Angry/Sad/Confused/Depressed? Din, Cursing, Bad Guys Die in canonical ways & as always my terrible editing.)

Authors Note: I have no idea what possessed me have such a fucking sad chapter. (Insert Fair Warning Here) But not only did I personally need this, the plot needed this.

Word Count: 11.5K

Mando woke up to the low ambient noise of his quarters funneling through the amplified speakers in his helmet pressing up against his ears. His body felt stiff, and his mind felt fuzzy from the unusual amount of sleep he’d somehow allowed himself to have. The windowless hull afforded him the luxury of not being able to discern daylight from dark and the deflector mods for some reason had darkened his HUD. With a low grunt he reached for his vambrace with his opposite hand and adjusted the brightness on his display before hauling himself back to his feet with another defeated sigh. His swim with the girl still weighed heavily on his mind despite his long sleep and as he walked into the empty hull the silence surrounding him only made his conscience weigh heavier. The door to the girl’s room was swung wide open with no sign of her boots, or her anywhere to be seen. Only an empty can of soup sitting next to her bed gave Mando any sign that she’d been on the ship any time in the last couple hours.

He knew better than to think she wasn’t confused with him, but that didn’t help his own confusion when it came to how easily she affected him. With an empty ship he took the opportunity to find some food for himself and quickly get it down his throat ignoring the opportunity to fully remove his helmet in the chance that she did come back soon. Glancing over the ration stock he took note of its reorganization, the corners of his mouth twitching up in appreciativeness of the unnecessary job she’d completed. After a couple checks of the Slave, he made his way to the cockpit in a habitual routine of checking fuel and water levels before noticing the bright light flashing on the comm link. He felt the hair on his neck raise as he stood looking at the anomalous sight of a missed comm.

As unusual as it was he pressed the strobing light, bracing himself for what was to come. His stiff muscles stayed bunched in anticipation until he saw a familiar green and red Mando helmet staring back at him through the blue tint of the HUD. Boba Fett and a his gruff tone urged him to respond at his soonest -convenient or otherwise- opportunity, letting Mando know just how irritated he was in the strict posture he held.

Begrudgingly, he turned to look towards the ladder to the hull and listened for any sign of the girl’s approach before connecting to Fett’s last link. Glancing back towards the ladder again, hoping that she wouldn’t walk in right in the middle of this unexpected conversation and get caught in the middle of Fett’s -admittedly- unavoidable charm.

“Find someone better to talk to last night?” Mando could sense Fett’s irriation and mocking in the strict sound of his tone. “Maybe you’ve found someone to warm up that bed you’re not doubt not sleeping in.”

“Why complain if you’re the one wasting time?” he barked back with impatience.

“A group of Hothian’s came looking for you, asking questions about a beskar Mando and a little slip of a girl he was keeping hostage.” Fett almost chuckled after mentioning the girl, finding humor in the terrible reasoning for the girl being with him. “Of course there was no one with any helpful information or a sighing… but that didn’t keep them from upsetting a few of my contacts.” He tone settled back down, lulling back into a more business-like tone that unsettled Mando more than his typical grumbling.

“Did they talk to you?” Another bad feeling crept up Mando’s back and settled at the nape of his neck, biting hard into his conscious.

“I hardly blend in.” he remarked, tilting his head down to motion towards the helmet. “I said there was no Mandalorian for parsecs. They were more than ready to leave with a unfriendly warning.”

“Combative?” he questioned, watching as Fett’s shoulders sagged as he blew out a breath.

“Approaching anyone with blasters on a foreign planet is kriffing unusual… but that didn’t keep them from shoving them in anyone’s face that looked suspicious enough.”

“You didn’t lie. We’re perfectly safe here.” Telling Fett their exact location wasn’t necessary, even if the other Mando was simply trying to warn them.

“That’s bantha shit. And from the way you keep looking over your shoulder I expect you know it to.” He pointed into the holocall transponder, straightening his posture with a satisfied smirk perceivable on his shielded face. “You’ll receive encoded coordinates in the next minutes. I expect you can read Mando’a.”

“I’m not leaving without kriffing good reason for it.” Mando was aware of how his pride was getting the best of him. Fett wasn’t overacting, but it wasn’t sitting right with him that Boba was keeping such close tabs on him and the girl for no good reason other than personal intrest.

“My offer stands. I expect you’re in an uncharted sector, but that only deters the Imperials. Anyone after you certainly knows their way around all of the little hiding places you’ve found rat hunting.”

Mando and Fett stood silent in a battle of wills, completely content to wait one another out until the other conceded. However Fett was the first to break this time, growling impatiently when the familiar sound of Cleeah’s voice echoed from in the distance. Mando couldn’t make out the entire sentence, but she sounded like she was in a hurry. No doubt Fett was leaving Coruscant before the Hothian��s came knocking for a follow-up interrogation. Even in the best of circumstances Fett wasn’t willing to risk his posh hideaway under any conditions. He surmised that Fett was inviting them to a secondary location; One where Mando was unhappily admitting to being safer than anywhere he’d taken the girl up to this point.

“Mando’a.” It was all Fett said before the holo disappeared and Mando was left to decide on whether or not to leave.

***

FOUR HOURS EARLIER

A walk would clear her mind. After all, it was too pretty of a morning to waste it sitting on the ship.

Mando weighed heavily on the her mind, more so than she’d ever anticipated. He was the embodiment of emotional whiplash, steeled over from any real infiltration by the thick glittering beskar jacketing him. She tried her best to gauge his moods and respond accordingly but the more she thought she understood, the Mandalorian seemed more than happy to prove otherwise. Mando had a knack for using her lack of control against her in the worst moments, leaving her with more than a knotted up stomach and tangible mortification. The waterfall hadn’t been an accident, he was the one who said he would teach her… but after he’d shown interest it immediately dissolved like sugar in a hot cup of tea. It wasn’t like she could see through that kriffing visor of his; something kept her from acting on the obvious -yet confusing- ways he acted around her.

He must believe that she wasn’t good enough.

The girl’s stomach dropped at the thought of him preferring someone else to her even though it was a ridiculous idea in the first place. She didn’t belong to him, or vice versa so it shouldn’t really matter anyways. Mando was a man with undeniable magnetism no matter if you hated him -or had began to develop a certain liking- for the bounty hunter. She wasn’t jealous, but after hours of imagining the woman she believed to match Mando, it was like shooting herself in the foot with a blaster… nothing but pain and no benefit to herself. All of the imaginary women were like Cleeah, exotically unattainable with beautiful clothes and lifestyles that exposed them to all of the things she lacked. The longer she compared herself to these illusory women it became apparent that as long as they weren’t her nothing else really mattered. She was too small, and couldn’t defend herself like Cleeah. The names of changing seasons were still new to her, along with the idea of swimming in water that wasn’t cold enough to freeze a person in minutes. She could shoot a blaster, but that didn’t mean anything to a trained bounty hunter… nothing she did made a difference

Maybe learning a few things would impress him? Then he might not think so lowly of her.

Despite her perpetually adverse sentiments towards herself, there was one thing she knew she was lucky to experience… Mando. Living on the ship gave her more than enough time to soak in his small idiosyncrasies - when he wasn’t paying enough attention to mask them – and without anyone to discourage her, she paid painstakingly close attention to them. It wasn’t smart, and she knew that doing so wasn’t helping her growing infatuation towards the Mandalorian; pouring fuel onto the fire that licked at her core when he was around. Every day she found more and more parallels between him and the many suns they’d passed travelling through the galaxy.

Domestic things that Mando did made the biggest impressions. Seeing him rinse out a cloak in a stream and hang it to dry, or mindlessly rubbing his gloved fingers rubbing at the dirty spots on his thigh plates to clean them was radically opposite to his typically statuesque personality. He liked to cook, or at least when it was available for him to, and for a man who lived on the edge of certain death laying low on this moon suited him right down to the ground.

Every living thing gravitated towards him, from the tall waving grass to the low hanging tree branches that skimmed his pauldrons and helmet. Inherently he looked more machine than biological, but every movement was fluid and effortless like there wasn’t anything unnatural about him. Mando blended into his environment, letting the mirror-polished shine on his beskar envelop him until he was almost a shadow against his surroundings; Like he was the perfect hunter with the entire moon assisting in his hunts. The girl couldn’t be sure if Mando knew how well he blended in or if it just naturally happened; Either way it was always something she had begun to love about him.

Quietly she slipped out of the ship, hoping not to disturb Mando as he slept through the morning. Hopefully until after she got back… There was nothing worse than the feeling of his hand wrapping around her waist and pulling her back again him after she’d wandered too far from his eyesight. It had nothing to do with ��the thought of him tracking her down, but more so with the way he did it. Feeling the icy surprise of his steel curiass against her back and the slow rise and fall of his chest made more than her chest clench. It was hard to think straight with Mando so close, and the idea of him chasing her down was more than enough to have her trembling.

She neglected her boots, opting for the soft padding of the grass under her feet. Saying this moon was anything less than divine was a discredit to just how beautiful it was. She couldn’t imagine a prettier color than the deep browns of the soil sticking to her toes and the hundreds of shades of green covering every inch of the valley. Of course, Ashas Ree had been beautiful but not a single drop of rain had fallen since they landed and it was nice to explore without getting wet. After deciding on a heading, she made out towards the waterfall hoping one last visit would get it off her mind before Mando woke up. A clear head would make talking to him much more approachable when she returned back to the ship.

It wasn’t long before the familiar sound of the water reached her ears, and an even more familiar feeling of dread filled her stomach when the sizeable resonances of voices layered over the spray of the water. The girl stopped in her tracks and dropped down to the ground behind a tree placing a hand over her chest; Trying desperately to calm the thumping feeling in her heart that racked against her sternum. There were at least six different voices she could differentiate, but from instinct she estimated there to have been more than ten people rummaging about at the base of the cliff and waterfall.

Get yourself together, and find out what’s going on before you lose your kriffing mind.

Her next exhale was shaky, but not as bad as her knees when she peeked around the thick tree trunk to look between the thick trunks towards the sounds. One ship sat at the top of the cliff, it’s durasteel paneling just barely peeking through the canopy of densely needle-covered branches. Less than a hundred feet or so, stood a group of men preoccupied with setting up tents and another group sitting around a stump with playing cards in their hands. Immediately she recognized them playing Sabacc and slowly came up to her feet, taking two careful steps backwards. All of them were covered in grease, and filthy beyond any real recognition of who they might’ve been. That didn’t keep the girl from identifying that they were smugglers, just getting ready to settle in for the day.

She needed to get back to Mando before they noticed the Slave sitting in the middle of the valley… or her spying on them.

The girl didn’t have enough time to realize anything but the dull throb of a fist swiping across her cheek. Her whimper covered the sound of her body slamming back down to the ground from the heavy assault. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the tall figure towering above her who presently stood resting his hands on his hips, laughing darkly at her.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing way out here?” his scratchy voice rumbled as he roughly yanked her to her feet, sneering with blackened teeth. The girl winced away from him, still feeling the awful pain in her face and fearing another blow. His awful breath blew in her face leaving her feeling doubly sick in her current situation.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” She cried out unable to resist the need to let her tears flow. The man laughed aloud this time, shoving her in the direction of the camp she’d desperately been trying to hide from.

“Oh I expect we’ll have some fun first.” He laughed again, calling out to the men nearest to them. “Look what I found boys!” Her gut churned as she struggled against the man dragging her, violently kicking and jerking her arms in attempt to get away before someone else could come to help her attacker.

“Please let me go!” she screamed, praying that somehow Mando might hear her before anything happened to her. It was all in vain for the quick reflexes of her captor who clamped a hand over her mouth, pressing down hard against her already aching face. Her ability to breathe slowly worsened as they got closer to the camp, multiple voices coming closer and almost echoing in her pulsing ears.

A black rim started closing in on her vision, collecting at the corners of her sight and slowly dotting closer to the center of her field of view. The girl couldn’t fight much longer, and the outlook of her situation ending positively made resisting feel that much more unreasonable. Maybe it was the overwhelming helplessness that enveloped her right as she was passed through the flaps of one of the many tents that she’d been observing Or it might’ve been her body’s lack of oxygen mixed with her quick hyperventilation that caused her to pass out. Either way she wasn’t awake to feel the second blow to her face, or hear the way her body hit the ground after being tossed carelessly to the floor by her attacker.

PRESENT TIME

Mando was growing more impatient by the second as he waited for the girl to return. The girl had never been away from the ship this long, especially without giving him some type of idea as to what she was doing before she left. He tapped his heels impatiently on the floor, watching the valley in front of him, as if his thoughts alone were going to be enough to make her appear from thin air. It wasn’t the first time he’d went out searching for her, and he was sure this time wouldn’t be the last either. His mind raced with instinctual thoughts, running through scenario after scenario until he’d worked himself just short of full-blown fury before he collected his blasters and set out to find her.

There was a certain coldness in the air around him as the sound of distant voices were picked up by his helmet, chilling past his weighted armor and icing over any of the emotional turmoil that the girl had created in her absence. The sun still shown bright but Mando couldn’t feel anything other than that prickling sense of death creeping up on him. A slight breeze rustled the trees but for Mando it sounded like millions of whispers all crowding out any thought that didn’t have to do with his girl. Even death seemed quite willing to agree with Mando in the moment and he was certain that even if death wasn’t willing it wouldn’t have mattered anyways.

Laughter and the unawareness of the smugglers were telling. All of their tents were set up, and sabacc decks were huddled around by a few groups of men, all of them either yelling or doing their best to keep their tell from showing. Baudy jokes and drunken howling set the background of a hellish encampment of men who most likely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to steal away a stranded pretty girl. Mando bristled at the sight before him, instinctually targeting the tents in search of any movement that might mark if she’d been taken by them. He could see multiple heat signatures, but at this distance there was no definition to the blurry red blobs in his HUD. She was here… he knew it.

If the smugglers hadn’t been engrossed in their petty gambling they would’ve been shocked to see the imposing figure lurking right out of eyesight. It would’ve looked like the gods had created the image of hell right in front of them. The shadows of the trees clung to Mando, radiating outwards like an ominous haze of black unfurling like heavy wings around his statuesque frame. A reaper had taken form in the shape of a bounty hunter, more destructive than any known to walk the galaxy. Mando knew that death clung to him but he didn’t know that this was what set him apart from all others. Others didn’t see him as a purveyor of death’s wishes, what others saw was the incarnate of revenge and prowess. Power and menace fearfully evident on the slate black visor of The Mandalorian. This was what the girl hadn’t seen of him. Nothing she’d heard or ever would hear about Mando would compare to the malevolence displayed before these smugglers. The sunlight that she saw, swallowed whole by the all-encompassing rage that flowed through Mando as he paced imposingly towards the center of the camp. His calmness only proved the efficiency of his body and the instinctual way he was able to concentrate his intensity for the most lethal means.

Only after a dried branch that had been carelessly tossed to the edge of one of the groups snapped under the weight of his boot did one of the men look to meet Mando’s emotionless stare. The man’s eyes widened in panic just long enough for him to remember that he wasn’t the only man there. He collected his fear long enough to nudge the man sitting next to him who still sat focused on his hand of cards, unaware of the mental battle Mando was waging on the now standing smuggler. The Mandalorian couldn’t help but smile, wickedly content with the silent terror he was providing.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man finally spat out, masking his voice well enough that his partners wouldn’t notice what Mando was privy to. All eyes in the camp looked up from their cards to stare at the beskar-clad reaper. Mando’s silence unsettled the entire clan and the unanswered question rang true in the minds of all the grease-stained men. After a long moment, one of the larger men singled himself out and approached Mando with an obvious false-confidence that screamed out for attention. His long blonde hair was coated in filth and ratted into knots that collected mud; freshly dried blood coating the knuckles on his right hand.

“We were under the impression this moon was deserted.” The man smiled, unable to help himself from smiling at the inside joke Mando was also privy to. “My men and I just settled in for the evening… I expect you’re coming to say hello?” The man reached out his blood-stained hand to Mando, who momentarily thought about shooting it clean off.

“I came to get what’s mine.” He growled lowly, lowering his visor to meet the eyes of the man speaking.

“I have nothing of yours.” The man responded casually, settling his tightly clenched fists on his hips. He even took a glance down at the blaster strapped to Mando’s hip. “We just dropped our shipment, so there’s nothing for you to take anyways.” It wasn’t a convincing bluff, but the other members of the crew were obviously certain that it would deter the man in front of them into leaving. Their visible relief diminished once Mando rested his palm over the handle of his blaster, slowly resting his fingers over the well-worn finish of the weapon.

“You’ll die in five seconds.” He pointed to the tents gathered behind all of the men with his free hand. “If you don’t return what you’ve taken.” Mando’s mind wasn’t allowing him to speak of her, despite his honest attempt in saying that she was his. His anger blocked any real thought of sentiment, protecting himself in the chance that they would try and use it against him, or worse realize that she meant something important to him.

“We don’t have what you’re after.” The man sneered quickly drawing out his own blaster. The action end trained itself right at the center of Mando’s chest, gently wavering in the anxious hands of its owner. Mando sneered under his helmet at the pitiful challenge in front of him, feeling just how threatened the man felt under his unhuman stare.

Everything happened quickly. The first shot between the two men were almost in sync, Mando’s dropping the man to the ground in a fit of screams. The first blast Mando took was to the chest, knocking him off balance long enough for others in the encampment to pick up arms against him. Only a couple others picked up blasters, issuing three more inaccurate shots to his beskar; These men were the next to fall. The rest preferred hand to hand combat, assuming that Mando couldn’t fight off more than a couple men at once. His Whistling Birds allowed him the space to fight off the remaining stragglers that didn’t catch the attention of his heat seeking projectiles. In his haste, he checked the tents and found that one tent still carried the signature of three bodies huddled in a corner. Before he could move close enough to see inside a booming voice echoed over the rocks of the cliff surrounding them.

“Get any closer and she dies!”

Mando moved to stand in the opening, allowing himself to wince at the sight before him. Two men -bigger than any he’d seen- crouched over the still form of the girl, one pointing a blaster at Mando while the other held a knife to her throat. He was in terrible position and any wrong move would result in a stray blast hitting her, or a knife wound that couldn’t be healed on the ship. There had to be some way to get them away from her.

“What do you want with her?” he asked coolly, letting his modulator mask the infinite levels of fear and rage mixing with his tone.

“A fuck.” The knife wielding one spat, touching the edge of the blade to the girls throat with a an evil snarl.

“She’s a criminal.” -he lied- “Wanted for murder on Hoth. I hunted her to this moon, so she could stand trial.” It was his only chance. Even horny smugglers didn’t like the idea of fraternizing with well-known criminals.

“You’re a bounty hunter.” The second man surmised, “Then you’ll pay to get her back.” He smiled, glancing down at the multiple satchels attached to Mando’s belt, his eyes widening at the thought of making even a few extra credits.

“I wasn’t given an advance. Instead you’ll split the bounty head.” He quickly thought on his feet, watching as the gravity of the situation began to lift, if only by a minuscule amount.

“How much?” The first man asked, glancing down at the girl who was still breathing evenly despite how weak she looked.

“I take half. You split the other.” They would be insane to not take an offer like that from any bounty hunter… especially from a man like Mando.

The two men shared a glance, and nodded before removing themselves from overtop of the girl, and tucking away their weapons. It was foolish of the two smugglers, but Mando already knew how much power money held over every sentient being in the galaxy. The two men followed a silent Mando as he brought them back towards the center of the camp, and turned around to face them, mimicking the actions of finding something in his belt. He listened as the two men talked, mentioning how simple of a fight the girl had been.

“She’d gone down in two punches. Kriff, I can’t imagine how she’d killed anyone bigger than a child.” It was the man who held the knife who laughed as he imagined the false scenario of the girl.

“You think that’s the best part? I’m guessing you didn’t get the chance to smell her did you?” The second man emphasized his addition to the conversation with an exaggerated inhale. “Sweeter than any candy I’ve ever tasted.” He chuckled, turning to Mando who’d finally had enough of the charade he was orchestrating.

“Did you get more than a smell?” Mando prodded with a low growl, watching as a grin crept across the man’s face.

“I may have sampled the goods.” He chuckled before leaning in just far enough that he could reach Mando’s implied ear. “That little curve at the top of her tits… well, let’s just say it couldn’t resi-.” The register of Mando’s blaster echoed in the trees, barely muffled by the point blank contact with the man’s chest. It was followed by confused shouts and a loud groan, but it all fell on Mando’s deaf ears. There was nothing stopping him from finishing this, these men had been dangerous; Now that they were away from the girl Mando could fully punish the bastards for what they’d done to her.

Those horrific thoughts kept replaying in his mind long after he’d dispatched of the other man who’d been to startled to even make a reach for his knife. Mando’s entire body was trembling with emotion as he lifted the opening of the tent to face his failure to protect her. She was still out-cold, and a deep blue bruise was already forming on her face as Mando gently collected her in his arms to abandon the now silent camp. She didn’t move a muscle the entire walk to the ship, and Mando did his best to keep her close to his chest in case she was more injured than was visual. He could feel that shadow of darkness trailing behind him, it’s draw to seek out any of the men left alive dissipating with every step closer to the ship. He looked back down at her and set his jaw, doing his best not to scream out in frustration at the pain he’d allowed to fall on her. The outline of knuckles were already imprinting themselves onto her face, with a gut wrenching trail of blood running from her nose.

“I’m so sorry little one.” Mando’s broken gasp spoke louder than any apology he could ever verbalize. “I need to clean you up.” He murmured as he shut the hatch door behind him, feeling the need to separate her from the world outside the ship.

He laid her in his bed, cradling her head down into the pillow as he checked for any other outward signs of injury. His shaking body jerked even harder the longer he stood over her, waiting for her to open her eyes. He smoothed her hair back out of her face, and let his fingers lace through the strands for a few minutes, in his own mind thinking it might soothe her knitted brows and tightly shut eyes.

“Please wake up little one.” He begged quietly, “I need to know you’re okay.” If he’d not been paying attention Mando might’ve missed the slight twitch of her fingers followed by a quick reaction of pulling her knees to her chest, and wrapping her arms over her face. His heart clenched with helplessness as she opened her eyes and peeked through the space in her arms to face him kneeling down at her side.

“You found me.” She whimpered still protecting her face. He nodded silently, losing all of the words he’d been speaking before she’d had the ability to look back at him. Her shaky inhale was followed by another whimper as she touched for fingertips to her bruising cheek; Wincing, she lowered her arms back down and slowly scooted herself closer to the edge of the bed, judging Mando’s reactions closely.

“I didn’t protect you.” His sadness was pitifully evident as he lowered his eyes down to the floor in front of him. Nothing he could do would make up for the hurt that she’d displayed after touching her cheek. He felt her hand rest on the crown of his helmet, pushing gently as to ask him to raise his head back up. At first, he protested unwilling to face her after such a breach of trust.

“Look at me Mando.” Her voice was raspy, no doubt from screams that he hadn’t heard. It was another blow to his gut as he relented and met her soft gaze. “You found me. Saved me.” It was her acceptance of his apology, however he was almost sick to accept it. Nothing he’d done deserved such an honor as her acceptance of his failure, and it was enough to drop him to both knees under the weight of her hand on his helm.

“I don’t understand you.” He murmured, the weight of her hand traveling over the back of his helmet towards the sides and back up to the top where she seemed content to hold it. “I almost lost you.” He admitted, finally able to allow some of the weight of his emotions to strip away.

“You didn’t, and you won’t.” she assured. Mando was astonished at her bravery after what she’d endured, and he found it hard to believe that she was the one reassuring him as he shook with adrenaline release on the floor next to her. She let out another whimper, this time letting her arm fall back down across her eyes, biting her quivering bottom lip. Even in his wrecked state, he could tell she was trying to be much stronger than she needed to be.

“Where does it hurt?” he questioned her gently, making sure not to touch her as he repositioned himself to stand up.

“My head.” she whispered. “They hit me… and other things.” Her whisper broke into small sobs as she began to remember the encounter much quicker than he’d hoped she would. Mando didn’t know what to do this time as he watched her rub small circles at her temples.

“What can I do little one?” His voice broke again.

“I want it all off me.” She whined. “ ’Fresher…” she mumbled, pulling at the hem of her dirt and blood stained shirt in attempt to pull it off. “Help me… please?” Her tears welled in the corners of her eyes, as she looked up at him.

“Can you stand up?” He asked, keeping himself from touching her. Nothing would be worse than another man touching her without making it clear first. She tried, but didn’t get further than sitting at the edge of the bed before she looked back up at him, pleading eyes and a wobbling bottom lip.

“Please.”

Mando broke, and nodded gently before setting to his armor slowly removing it piece by piece until only the much preferable fabric of his shirt flight suit remained. Nothing could be worse than having her feel the cold beskar, he’d always noticed her gasps when the cold steel made contact with her skin. She reached up to grip ahold of his shoulders, defiantly wanting to do as much as she could independently while Mando supported her at her hips, keeping an arm secured around her as they slowly made progress towards the ‘Fresher. The girl did her best to hide the pain but Mando knew it was making this easy walk virtually impossible.

“Sit down here.” He whispered, sensing how easily it affected her to hear loud noises. Tired and frustrated at her lack of independence, she let Mando ease her down without even trying to do it herself anymore. He opened the water valve and let the heat rise until it was comfortable enough on the back of his bare hand before turning back to see her staring in the mirror in front of her.

“I look hideous.” She furrowed her brows and frowned, upsetting the sore muscles in her face again. She moaned at the frustration situation and looked back up to Mando who was already crouching down next to her again, tilting his head as he searched her face for any signs of sever injury.

“Can I check something?” he lifted a bare hand up towards her face, watching as her eyes widened at the sight of his scarred skin in the light for the first time. “I won’t hurt you.” It was a weighted statement; One that the both of them understood to mean more than the current circumstance at hand. She hummed a quiet okay as he touched the edge of her cheekbone, just underneath of her eye feeling along the edge until an abnormal angle caught his attention.

“What is it?” her brows pulled together for a moment before forcibly relaxing again.

“Let me look at the other side.” He removed his other glove and mirrored the same path he’d followed on the bruised side hoping that the edge he’d felt was just unique to her bone structure. Mando let out a deep sigh when he didn’t palpate that landmark on her other side. “You’ll need bacta… more than a patch.” His hands dropped away from her face. “You’ve got a fracture… that’s part of why the bruising is so bad.” There was a certain softness in his voice, only attributable to his need to soften the edge of hearing that her wounds looked awful.

“I just want to get clean.”

Mando helped by pulling the narrow legs of her pants from around her ankles, not allowing her to reach any further than necessary; Also by cutting the side out of her shirt so she didn’t have to reach above her head to remove it.

“You’re always cutting my clothes off.” She remarked with the slightest intonation of humor, and Mando couldn’t help but stifle a chuffed laugh. It wasn’t the most endearing thing to be known for, but it did seem to interest him that she didn’t seem the least bit upset by his newfound propensity for ruining her clothes.

“You can have something of mine when you get out.” He offered turning his eyes towards the floor as she reached around to unwrap her breast band. Mando worked at his own boots, sitting them out of the way as he waited for her to make the next move. Her hand rested gently on his shoulder and gripped tightly onto the fabric as she tried to push up onto her feet.

“Give me a second...” She sighed before once again attempting to get to her feet.

“Take your time. I’m right here little one.” His endearment plus the small support of his words seemed to give her enough stamina to get onto her feet, and remain there long enough that she felt confident to let Mando get her the rest of the way into the ‘Fresher.

It wasn’t comfortable in the small stall, and the sopping wet feeling of Mando’s flight suit didn’t bode well under the hard water pressure either. The girl rested against Mando as she slowly worked soap over her face, cleansing off the dirt and blood while Mando took the liberty of washing out her hair. It didn’t take long for her to get so tired that she couldn’t continue, and simply let Mando finish what she couldn’t. All of the necessary places she’d done herself, and he couldn’t have been more grateful that she’d spared him from the experience. Even if the situation was ideal, he wouldn’t have had any way of knowing just how she did things, and he didn’t want to get it wrong.

“I’m cold.” She murmured against his chest, nuzzling her unscathed cheek into him a little more as he ran his hands down her soapy back to remove the excess lather.

“You’ve been in the water too long.” She only nodded in response, and relaxed further into him as he turned off the water and reached outside of the door for a towel to wrap around her. “Here. Take this.” He wrapped it around her back, handing both ends to her with his head turned to the side.

She was about to lean away, but Mando had already decided that she wasn’t walking back. Without much effort he pulled her off the floor and kept her tight against him as he brought her back into his quarters. The room was already darkening due to night approaching, and it made transferring her onto the bed a much simpler process without the impropriety of seeing her without the towel. Mando himself reached under the bed and blindly pulled out a dry set of underclothes for himself and retreated into the girl’s room for the old shirt of his that she’d taken to wearing to bed. He changed before returning, running a towel over the wet strands of hair that strayed from underneath his helmet and donning a pair of socks and his gloves. After he'd hung his flight suit over an active draft grate and returned to his dark bedroom with the shirt and the highest strength bacta patch he could find in his supply stores.

“This should keep you warm.” He held the shirt out blindly, hoping that he was close enough that she could take it.

“Thank you.” The sound of the fabric rustling gave Mando a sense of calm and he was prepare to leave her in peace when she hesitantly mumbled something. It wasn’t loud enough to hear, but he knew it was directed at him off instinct. Patiently, he waited for her to repeat herself, either her courage or energy needed the chance to catch up.

“Say it again.” He prodded gently, taking a step towards the bed.

“Would you stay?” Her voice sounded much like normal with that sweet intonation that reminded Mando just how innocent she really was. He went cold then hot in a matter of seconds, feeling the pull of fear and desire pulling at his conscience. He stood in silence, weighing his thoughts until he just couldn’t stand the idea of needing to rationalize every decision he made when it came to her.

In two strides his knees his the edge of the bed, and he felt his way up towards the head where he nervously sat down, and brought his legs up beside hers. He crossed his arms over his chest, and took a deep breath to calm himself down. The girl made her own small adjustment and settled down closer to his side, intent on seeking out the warmth that she apparently wasn’t getting from the shirt or sheets. Quietly, he placed a hand on her face turning it so that he could apply the patch. She hissed under the cold contact, but stilled after a few minutes of letting the analgesic treatment work into her damaged muscles and bone. The girl rested an appreciative hand on top of his arm and gave a gentle, sleepy squeeze.

“Are you still cold?” He asked through a tight jaw, still feeling the radical effects of her gentle touch vibrating though his arm. She gave another light squeeze, and nodded a little before tilting her chin upwards to look at him though the dark room.

“A little.”

Responding quickly, he turned onto his side and laid still as she turned onto her side to fit herself right against his chest. Even her legs fell flush against his thighs as Mando lifted the blankets over her. The girl let out a warm sigh of approval and Mando released his own withheld breath, only his held the strain of her bare legs entangling with his own. For someone that felt like they were running a fever, Mando couldn’t understand why she’d become so cold all of a sudden. Her light snores lifted into the bedroom within minutes; Already sleeping by the time he’d found the mental capacity to think about something other than the way her skin scorched though his compression pants and shirt. Under his unnecessary justification that she might still be cold he draped an arm over her waist, and gently pulled her closer watching to make sure he didn’t move her head more than necessary.

The steady rhythm of her breathing gave him time to think for the first time since he’d went searching for her. It pained him to think that he’d been so close to losing her… a group of smugglers who hadn’t had any idea of who she was or that there were men after her. Even worse, she was seriously hurting and the only thing that was keeping her from feeling it was the adrenaline still slowly passing through her system, drip feeding protection from the fracture in her cheek. He looked down at the bacta patch, studying the dimly lit lights glowing on the surface, lighting up her face just enough that Mando could trace her features. Mando couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such a pretty face, and he was even more certain that he wouldn’t find someone that beautiful for the rest of his life. Freckles had begun to appear on her skin after being in the sunlight, darkening the smattering of color that collected on her nose and on the apples of her high cheekbones.

All of the darkness that he’d felt when walking into the camp had faded into grey, mimicking the steel tone of the beskar that lay abandoned in the floor of the ‘Fresher. It felt like he was finally able to escape the draw of battle for once in his life. Simply laying with her was enough to keep that biting instinct to hunt and fight away, even if just while he held her. He tightened his grip on her waist further, dreading the moment that he’d need to leave, and pilot them away from the maker-forsaken place forever. There was one person he needed to tell before they left.

Inside the safety and sound-proofing of his helmet he comm’ed Fett, letting his hand trace along the curve of the girl’s hip as he waited for an answer. He toyed with the frayed hem of his old shirt, feeling how low it rode on the girl’s thigh and silently admiring the drastic incongruity in their sizes.

“Mando.” Fett sounded quite tired, and for a moment he wondered just why he hadn’t comm’ed early in the morning instead of in the dead of night. He didn’t dwell on it for much longer than it took to register the thought.

“She was attacked.” He admitted, watching the miniscule reaction in Fett’s shoulders as he took in the information. Mando recounted details of the smugglers and their assault, leaving out nothing as he made certain to reassure Fett that none of the men had gone unpunished for the attack and that the girl was still unlocated by anyone other than the two of them.

“She’ll need healed.” He growled back to Mando, emphasizing the glaring issue at hand.

He had failed…

“They shouldn’t have died so easily.” He added with a sinister tone that Mando wasn’t very accustomed to hearing.

“I didn’t think… It was all I could do to get her out of there.” His voice broke under the pressure of his admission. “You’re offer still stands?” Mando asked quietly, glancing down to look at the girl who’d nestled herself tight against him, resting peacefully under the physiological sedative she’d been fighting against in the shower, mixed with bacta.

“Bring her here, she’ll be safe.” Fett’s typical tone of flattery and undercurrent of sexual tension was absent as he resent the coordinates to Mando even after he’d denied needing them a second time. Fett asked more questions about the girl, more so about her condition than anything. Repeating himself when Mando couldn’t keep his train of thought in one coherent strand as he delved deeper into the missing minutes of her rescue that had gone blurry in the midst of the blaster fire.

“She’s sleeping. It was kriffing impossible to help her do anything… Her way only.” He murmured, more to himself than Fett with a slightly frustrated sigh. Fett grunted in appreciation of her determination, although the mood wasn’t light enough for any real laughter. Boba took the lull in conversation to discuss the security procedures that he preferred -more so demanded- Mando take when approaching his landing on arrival.

“Drop straight in on the location. Don’t waste time. There aren’t inhabitants close, but if you come in at cruising altitude I’ll shoot you out of the sky myself.” Fett threatened, altogether serious in his attempt to covey the strict measures he necessitated.

“Fine.” Mando nodded, though Fett couldn’t see the physical acknowledgement.

“Make sure she doesn’t wake up to an empty bed… She’ll be feeling the full force of this tomorrow… bacta patch or not.” Fett added, dropping his visor with an lowly with a disheartened sigh. Of course he couldn’t fault Fett’s reaction, if anything he wasn’t surprised at how seriously he took the care of the women in his life when it came to safety and being overly protected when the situation called for it. Boba Fett might’ve been the most irritating man Mando had ever met, but he was still respectable in Mando’s visor. More than ever he was beginning to think that getting the girl her own comm link was one of the best decisions he’d made since bringing her aboard.

The comm ended, and Mando returned his full attention to the girl, didn’t move an inch the entire night and neither did Mando; He didn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything new. She had lulled him into a state of complete resignation when it came to thinking about getting up. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb her obviously comfortable position. It would be the best sleep she’d get for at least a couple days, and Mando was set in the idea that he wasn’t going to be the one to ruin her opportunity. He spent the hours rubbing her back, and smoothing her hair back out of her face until he was certain she’d need a shower to clean the smell of his blaster residue- covered gloves.

She wouldn’t wake up until late morning, with a low groan and a deep stretch that made her muscles quiver. Mando watched as her grogginess wore off and the gravity of the situation fell onto her face. He was fully prepared to answer any questions she had, practicing his responses throughout the night in the idea that he would be more than competent to provide any information she wanted.

His work went completely untested.

The girl took a moment to reach up for the patch covering her cheek, letting out a whimper when the light pressure she applied intensified her pain. When she recovered, her sleepy eyes fell on Mando who still had his arm possessively tucked around her middle. No amount of preparation prepared him for what she finally asked him;

“Did you sleep well?”

Awestruck by her comically causal statement he gave a swift nod, feeling the edge of his helmet gently bump against the crown of her head. He touched the spot with his free hand, hoping that it hadn’t hit her hard enough to cause any discomfort. When she happily sighed, and relaxed back into his palm heat spread through his chest, warming the cold anxiety he’d been harboring throughout the night. They laid in comfortable silence for what felt like an eternity to Mando, as she let him continue running his fingers through her hair without any complaint to the way it gleamed with oil from his gloves or the tell-tale smell of a freshly fired amban rifle. It was enough to have Mando feeling like he was back in the water, toeing the edge of an endless cavern, dangerously warm and inviting.

“I’m taking you somewhere safe. Where I can be sure that you’ll be safe even if I leave.” His voice rumbled with the lazy intonation that could be felt in every inch of the rest of his body.

“I shouldn’t have gone so far from the ship.” The girl shifted onto her back, looking up at him with an apologetic look that fired his fury towards her attackers all over again. He didn’t know how else to tell her otherwise, feeling contrary to her point of view and blaming himself for the attack.

With a deep breath he lowered his helmet to rest his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and hoping that she understood what he was incapable of telling her. It was an unfamiliar intimacy that Mando was already impatient to get more of. Nothing compared to the subtle way her presence cleared away his anger, and effortless ability to blind the dark shadows he could feel lurking patiently just outside the door to the bedroom. The girl was the first to break away, only to press another kiss to his visor and settle her forehead back against his. She was the one hurting but found the necessity to calm his unspoken distress.

“When are we leaving?” Her hot breath fogging up his display.

“It’s up to you little one.”

***

With a fresh bacta patch and some soup Mando was thankful that she slept through the entire flight. It wasn’t a long journey -no more than five standard hours- but by the time Mando’s landing gear hit the ground it was night on Aeos Prime. Nothing but the sound of water could be heard over the Slave Two’s engines as Mando piloted the ship above what looked to be a bombed out shelter of some kind as he took note of the jagged edges of durasteel, melted and bent from the long-past impact. Endless ocean surround him and for a moment he was unable to register just how much reach Fett had across the galaxy.

“Kriffing impossible.” He breathed out, watching as a shield rose up from beneath the thrashing waves to push away the water that covered a ship-sized lock gate nestled into the sand at the sea floor. Hesitant to push through the blue forcefield, he slowly pushed though watching as the penetrable shield bent around the ship until he was fully within it’s protection. The angry water raged against the power shield, trying it’s best to thrash at the charged wall separating Mando from the risk of losing another ship.

The lock gate below him opened with a metallic thud, allowing access so the slave could descend into the cavern below. Once his revelation faded, Mando was left to observe a single ship sitting in the underground loading bay… the sister to his own ship, the Slave One. Old cargo crates sat at the wayside, along with old land speeders retrofitted to haul the same crates that sat strewn about the ground. The grey duracrete walls and steel support beams looked almost untouched compared to the reinforcements above ground. Although everything was well preserved, abandonment was obvious. Dust covered the once striped floors, and deactivated droids sat at the edges of the bay, rusting from the lack of maintenance. All of it screamed military property or something of the like, what exactly he wasn’t sure of… but it reminded him of the Imperial Base on Nevarro that they’d blown sky high. That didn’t keep him from opening the hatch and stepping out into the recycled air of the underground world he’d been so hesitant to enter.

“I told you to haul ass, di’kut.” Fett’s booming voice echoed through the empty loading bay as he appeared from one of the long tunnels that connected to the giant room.

“Don’t act like that’s normal…” Mando challenged, feeling the slightest bit embarrassed that he hadn’t ever experienced something quite as unreal as disappearing underneath the ocean. Fett approached with a somewhat friendly smile, and clapped a hard smack over Mando’s pauldron before turning his attention towards the ships.

“What a pair.” His voice beamed with pride as he looked at the sister ships. “I haven’t seen them together like this in longer than I’d care to admit.” His slight chuckle eased Mando’s taught nerves.

“What is this?” Mando took his own glance around the bay, trying to find some marker of property or ownership.

“It was a city… at one point. But now it’s almost a dead planet.” Fett explained, wandering towards the Slave Two’s open hatch. “Only beings are on the opposite side of the planet, and they keep to themselves… all twenty of them. But I don’t like giving them the opportunity to do so anyways.”

Mando could only silently agree. Not just for the consistency in Fett’s operational standards, but for the safety of the girl who still lay asleep in his bed.

“How is she?” he asked, lowering his voice when he came into the hull of the ship.

“Sleeping for now. But I’m afraid she’s got a fracture, or maybe more than one.” Mando hated saying it, but there was nothing he could do but help her heal at this point. If that meant telling Boba, then so be it; It wouldn’t’ve been the first time he’d swallowed his pride in the presence of the green Mando.

“I’ve got everything she’ll need.” Fett nodded back in the direction of the way he’d come, before turning his attention back to the ship’s ration supply crates. “Bring these along… and anything else you can think of needing. If we are caught, there’s nothing worse than being without everything.” It was directed at The Crest, and no matter how badly Mando wanted to defend himself he could tell that Fett was simply being rational. Within the hour, Mando and Fett had loaded one of the speeders with rations, a third of Mando’s weapons closet and the two small boxes that the girl kept her belongings in.

Lastly, Mando made one last trip to get the girl. She was still dead asleep when he lifted her off the bed, bringing along the blankets she’d wrapped herself in to keep her bare legs from being exposed to the cold air and Fett’s possible wandering eyes. In her dream-filled slumber she nuzzled her face under the edge of his helmet, breathing steadily against his neck. Boba gave Mando a nod of approval, ignoring the opportunity to make a comment about her unconscious desire to seek him out; Instead he opted to settle behind the controls of the speeder, and pilot them down the long tunnel. Mando shielded her from the wind, keeping his back towards Fett as they traveled the long distance deeper into the darkness until the arcing floor grew tall enough to block the view of any light from the loading bay.

Further underground… He thought, instinctually wrapping the girl tighter in the blankets to keep the cold from getting through. Even the duracrete walls seemed to get darker the further they traveled below the surface of the planet. Fett slowed the speeder outside of a sealed door at the end of the hall, taking a look at his own vambrace before unlocking the thick security doors. He pulled though, and resealed them before turning to face Mando.

“Take this hallway,” -he pointed down the one to his left- “And you’ll see the common area. From there, pick a door and that’s where the two of you will stay. Full accommodations.” He gave a curt nod, and began unloading the supply crates without giving Mando any further instruction.

The room he found himself in was similar to the loading bay, but not available for any ship to enter. Most likely a docking station for speeders. He examined the room another time before following the general direction that Fett had given. Once down the hall he came into the ‘common room’ as Fett had called it, seeing the generic markers of a kitchen and dining table with a large portion of the room being occupied by a wall of instrument panels, communication equipment and radar monitors encompassing a remarkable distance around the central location of this base. Mando found the furthest door from the entry hall, shouldering through the door to find what he could only describe as the most domestic place he’d ever seen.

A bed was centered at the back of the room, with a full ‘Fresher off to the side through another side door, accompanied by three geometrically designed shelfs molded from duracrete in the walls of the room. Left untouched, the room looked empty despite its somewhat lavish accommodations. Even simulated moonlight peered from behind a thick curtain that hung over the false window in the wall.

Kriffing impossible. He repeated to himself, feeling the girl stirring in his arms. She let out a tiny whimper, sleepily brushing her hand against her face. The girl opened her eyes and looked around for a moment before resting her head back against Mando fully contented to stay right where she was as long as he would let her.

“Are we safe?” Her voice coming much clearer than her physical reaction to waking up.

“Yes. How do you feel?” He strode over to the bed and regrettably sat her down so she could gather herself without the struggle of being bunched up against him. He saw how difficult it was for her to move her mouth without the pressure being too overwhelming and quickly changed his tactics. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded quite quickly, her eyes widening at the thought of getting something to eat. Mando was more than pleased, feeling much better knowing that it wasn’t deterring her from wanting something to eat. He studied the way she looked about the room, bringing her palm up to her cheek and a small wince forming on her brow.

“Do you feel like walking?” It was a test question. Of course he wasn’t surprised when she shook her head ‘no’. Quietly he thanked whoever was listening that she didn’t say yes.

He wanted to prolong her interaction with Boba as long as he could without drawing attention to how miserably obvious it affected him. He bowed out of the room, leaving her to fully wake up and take some time alone while he went to check with Fett who’d made himself busy settling the final two crates in the common room. His own stock was nothing compared to Fett’s towering collection of non-perishables and water supply that looked just re-stocked. In silence the two men worked to collect everything into designated shelves before either of them felt the need to speak to each other.

“You don’t trust me around her.” Fett stated with a somewhat smug tone, sharply snapping his gaze toward Mando who was still sitting the final few cans of soup on the shelf. The tone in the air was charged at the quick bite Fett hadn’t been able to hold back any longer.

Mando swiftly turned to meet the hard stare in the man’s eyes, scanning the almost black rims of his eyes. Their silent battle seemed endless as both fought under the pretense that they were the clear dominant. Both had a damn good reason to stand their ground no matter who’s floor it belonged to, or what physical prowess the other possessed. Mando didn’t understand what he’d done to Fett, or why it mattered if Mando trusted the girl’s life in his hands. He hardly trusted himself with her…

“I don’t.” He finally growled out straightening his posture so Fett would have to look up at him.

“You’re foolish to think you deserve any part of her when you can see past your fucking helmet boy.” The venom of the truth dripping from the Mandalorian’s words poisoned any calmness that Mando had been carrying. The space between the two stayed out of arms reach, but that didn’t keep them from slowly walking a dangerous dance around the common room.

“I’m nothing to her. Therefore what I think has no importance.” Mando couldn’t argue against Fett, but he wasn’t willing to abdicate the challenge from a man who had no reason for desiring the fight in the first place. “I am not your son.” Mando’s words gritted under the his tight throat and the urge to show Fett just how much he was willing to prove his blood superseded Boba’s. His chest swelled with the pressure of a tightly wound coil, slowly twisting tighter with every second that Fett didn’t leave the subject alone.

“You’ll do well to keep her alive.”

It was the last straw.

Both men lunged at each other, in a clash of armor and wordless communication verbalized in low growls and grunts as they wrestled each other back and forth. Both men pinned the other to the walls of the room, struggling when the other gained the upper hand with a swift punch or a well-placed grapple that caught the other off guard. By the time each man hand found a hand on their blaster each had their sights set on the weakest target on each man. Mando found the center of Fett’s forehead most preferable, while Fett had chosen dead center on Mando’s hips with a more than deadly look filling those dark eyes.

“Mando!” The girl’s scream brought him out of the haze he’d fell into but he couldn’t drop his sights from Fett, who was fully focused on the girl who no doubt had a horrified expression. The full weight of her crashing into his exposed side rocketed him the rest of the way from his stiff posture towards Fett.

“Please don’t hurt him Mando.” She pleaded with a wobbly voice, as she gripped tightly to his cloak and the edge of his chest plate. Her hard tugs at his armor finally unwound the bunched coil around his focus. Finally realizing what the girl had said, his entire body burned to hear her say it again. Mando relished in the knowledge that Fett would have to live with the idea that she thought him superior. It stroked his flaring -and bruised- ego long after the tension in the room faded through the floor both men still stood bonded to. Again she tugged on his chest plate, pulling him to break the hard stare that as still fixed to Fett’s profile. Her whispered pleads, mixing with fear brought him to look down at her shielding his weaker side as she stared up at him with expectant eyes, looking at his outstretched blaster, then back to him.

“You don’t have to prove anything.” She quietly soothed, reaching a hand out to palm the cold metal of his barrel and assist his frozen muscles in lowering it. “I’m not going anywhere.” She seethed, taking a hard glance towards Fett who had replaced his hard stare with a somewhat amused smile in her direction; Obviously finding her irritation with him humorous. With one final pull on him, she broke his feet from their holds finally letting herself grimace from the overuse in her mouth.

Mando could see fresh blood soaking into the backing of her bacta patch, and he was quick to exit the room away from the both of them towards the Slave 2. Fett was right. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the truth, he’d only proved Fett’s accuracy within three minutes of him speaking. The girl called out for him to come back, and she followed for a short while down the tunnel before she realized that he wasn’t interested in listening to what she had to say. He needed distance from her, more than ever before. A burn in his chest only accentuated the pain that floated through his mind as he replayed the times he’d let himself fall into her lull of security, thinking that maybe the old woman had been right. That even a damn soul could find some solace in the arms of a sweet girl who didn’t see his blood-stained hands, or ink-black soul.

He shut the hatch to the Slave and ripped his helmet away from his head, throwing it into the wall with a loud cry of desperation. In a fit of rage he balled his fist and slammed it into the durasteel wall, frantic for some release in the constant war he’d internalized. Mando wanted to go back to her, and ask for the relief that was unique to her. Let go in the heat of her arms and feel that acceptance he was finally able to admit he desired more than anything. Another loud scream scraped though his vocal chords, irritating his throat from the demanding use he’d suddenly used. It rattled the ship, an empty canister suddenly being filled with the bottled up anger of a man who’d suffered more loss than he could bear the weight of.

His rage continued on throughout the night crashing down on Mando like the thrashing waves of Aeos Prime hundreds of feet above him churning like an monster with an endless instinct to devour or demolish anything in it’s path. He wallowed in the loss of control that Fett had placed upon him, and there was only one way he knew he could solve it. It only made the blow worse, when he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sealed in his quarters with his armor strewn about the hull along with his helmet and flight suit he finally collapsed onto the bed with a singular need to seek out any traces of the girl on his sheets. Even in the solitude he’d chosen over the presence of the girl, Mando found himself burying his bare face in the pillow searching for her comfort in the only way he knew how. Underneath the heavy scent of leather and metal he could finally smell that sweet mix of her sweat and something else foreign to anything he could ever guess to describe.

He found what he needed.

It smelled like her.

After all this time of keeping his distance he’d never allowed himself the purely selfish indulgence of knowing what she smelled like, and now he laid writhing like he was in pain to get just another hint of her. It was unlike him to be so unhinged; Only after Grogu had been kidnapped had anything ever felt so severe to him. Now nothing but his own guilt and fear stood guard over the one and only thing he’d ever realized he wanted. He stayed wrapped in the subtle reminder of the girl in his sheets, battling with the shadows of his training and the creed just hiding in the corners of his room and doing everything he could to fight them away just for a little while longer. Those dark figures and the evil laugh of death in the hull echoed for hours into an undetectable Aeos Prime daylight.

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