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uh-i-think-its-frank · 4 months ago

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TRADITION

Master!Luke Skywalker x Padawan!Reader

Luke Skywalker is on a mission to rebuild the Jedi Order, using traditional methods, training and ideology from the Jedi Code.

His first ever student makes him question tradition.

slow burn | forbidden love | mild angst | smut MDNI

no use of y/n | AFAB reader | she/her pronouns

set just before the Book of Boba Fett

word count: 14k

masterlist | fic recs | ao3

a/n: this is my first published fic in a very, very long time so constructive criticism is welcomed! I have an idea for an angsty pt. 2 so lmk if u want it hehe

Training under Luke Skywalker was difficult.

Despite being a polite and gentle man, his methods of teaching were strict and calculated - each lesson was designed to have a specific outcome and he always made sure she came out of it with the skill and knowledge he intended. This often meant early mornings and late nights, aching muscles and a brain that felt like jelly after focussing on strengthening her connection to the Force.

The most difficult part of training under Luke Skywalker, however, was Luke Skywalker himself.

She had been new to this galaxy when he found her. She honestly doesn’t quite know how she even managed to get from Earth the planet of Tatooine. It involved her bizarrely finding a broken down ship in the woods near her house and somehow getting taken into space by the inhabitants of said ship, ending up galaxies away and missing the primitive planet Earth.

The men that brought her to the desert planet were smugglers, who swore they saved her life because they were certain that whatever debt collectors they had chasing after them would’ve killed her if they knew that she’d seen them. And yet, after many weeks of travelling and not getting along, they just left her on this rock to fend for herself with no knowledge of where she was or how to get home, like true saviours.

Thankfully, however, due to having to help her kidnappers fix their ship after every firefight they got into, she'd found a talent in mechanics, and managed to get by working for Peli Motto, fixing up whatever rust buckets came through her hangars in Mos Eisley Spaceport.

Peli’s hangars were usually home to bounty hunters and smugglers, working for the Bounty Hunters Guild or the Hutts and were just as rough and grimy as you’d expect them to be. And while the odd everyday traveller would come through, it was rarely a special occasion and usually ended with the older woman she called her boss scaring them off with her no-nonsense attitude, always telling it like it is.

So when a ship landed and Peli stopped mid-curse when she turned and saw the x-wing sitting in her Hangar, back straightening when she saw the pilot, the Earthling woman knew he had to be serious business.

She moved to stand beside Peli, watching the lid of the ship lift to reveal who was possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen unbuckling himself from his seat. She found that her own back straightened without realising it as she watched him, clad in black, perfectly fitting robes, pristine black boots and a single gloved hand. She side eyed Peli for any hint or explanation as to who this was and why he seemed so important.

Peli caught her gaze but ignored her, boisterously walking over to the ship, welcoming him as the mystery man lifted himself out of the cockpit.

His feet hit the ground and he regarded her boss with a polite smile, resting his clasped hands behind his back as he gave her a small bow in thanks.

She decided to walk out after Peli, moving out from under the shade of the tool shop and into the sunlight of the open hangar. The blonde man's eyes lifted to meet hers, as if knowing she’d been there all along and gave a small nod, a look on his face that seemed almost… determined. Like he had something planned.

After a while of Peli talking his ear off and offering him any repairs he needed or even a service on his ship free of charge, he finally explained that he was there for a reason. And boy, was it not what she expected.

He introduced himself as Luke Skywalker and the young woman shared a look with Peli, eyes wide. She recognised the name from the Holothrillers she and her boss would watch together late at night in the tool shop, as they ate their bland dinners with greasy hands while Peli elaborated on some of the plot points, explaining how the actions in the films had actually affected the rest of the galaxy in real life and where she was and what she was doing when the events happened.

The younger woman had quickly grown enamoured by the story, asking Peli a million and one questions about the Empire and Luke Skywalker and she’d since only known him as the farm boy who became a Jedi and defeated the Empire. A Historical figure. A man she’d never meet. And yet, here he was.

He explained that he was on a mission to rebuild the Jedi Order, and that he had been searching for others who were Force-sensitive to help rebuild it with him. He said he’d already contacted many. Used the Force to find them and travelled to ask them for their assistance, offering to train them if they needed. But they’d all turned him down.

There had been rumours of a band of Inquisitors, Jedi Killers, still on the hunt, despite the Great Jedi Purge ending over 6 standard years ago, not long before the fall of the Empire. This rumour had made the surviving Jedi, Force-users and parents with Force-sensitive children anxious to reveal themselves for fear of their lives.

It was an understandable fear, one that the lone Jedi found reasonable. Though, it was tiresome to travel to so many different planets to make the same speech, only to get turned down out of fear.

Luke explained that he could feel the Earthlings' connection to the Force. It was distant and lacking strength, but still, there was something there that could be worked upon, that could be strengthened with the correct training. He’d travelled there, to her workplace and makeshift home just to ask her to join him, to train with him and become a Jedi Knight and use her knowledge to train others and keep the Jedi Order alive. To rebuild what was lost to the Dark Side for many years.

Maybe it was her ignorance on the matter due to her brief time in this galaxy, or maybe it was simply the desperate look in his beautiful eyes. But after a bit of convincing and advice from Peli to do what she felt was right - she’d accepted his offer.

The next day, they’d travelled to Ossus where Luke and many builder droids had been and were continuing to build a new Jedi Temple, to be fit with enough rooms and space to train whole generations of Force-sensitive children when the time was right. But for now, the only occupants of the large Temple were just her and her new Master, Luke Skywalker.

He’d had servant droids take her measurements and get her fitted for her own set of Padawan robes as well as a whole new wardrobe of sleep and casual attire, suitable for the Temple. And despite being thankful for the new, perfectly-fitted apparel, she fought tooth and nail until the droids finally allowed her to keep her ill-fitting, grease-stained overalls in the back of her wardrobe, only after they had been deep-cleaned. She knew she may never get the chance to wear them again, much to her dismay, but she couldn’t bear to part with them.

She was a lot older than most Padawan ever were. Most were trained as young children through to adulthood, where they’d be deemed true Jedi Knights by the age she already was, but desperate times called for desperate measures. There were only a handful of Jedi left, after all, and even less who were willing to aid the New Jedi Order.

So, in an attempt to make up for lost time, she tried her absolute hardest, diving head-first into her training. She spent her days learning from her Master and her nights in the Temple library, studying the history of her predecessors, staying up much too late and waking up much too early just to do it all over again.

She was passionate and hardworking, things that she prided herself on. Her work ethic prevailed over anything else… Usually.

See, she had an issue. She was great with history. She’d gotten to a point just mere weeks into her training that she could recite a play-by-play of the Clone Wars if asked to, and found herself absolutely enthralled by every piece of information that she absorbed in that library, going through the thickest history books within a single day if she ever got the privilege of having one off - which was rare. But she excelled in this area because she could do it alone.

Connecting with the Force, physical training or anything else she had to work on with Master Luke was where she struggled. Simply because, well…

She found him so distracting.

At first, it was nearly unbearable. She would flush every time he would touch her to position her body during training. She'd get caught up thinking about him when she was meant to be meditating. She'd stutter when he'd ask her questions that should've been simple to answer, like how she slept or about the book she’d stayed up too late reading.

It was like she was in high school again, crushing over a boy so badly that even the mildest of interactions had her smiling goofily at herself when she lay in bed that night, excited to go to sleep just so she could see him again the next day. But this was worse. Much, much worse.

Because not only was this man her teacher, her Master. It was also written, directly into the scriptures that she read every night before she went to sleep.

A Jedi does not act for personal power or wealth.

But only seeks knowledge and enlightenment.

This scripture, whilst it encourages selflessness and promotes the importance of preserving the knowledge of not only the Jedi, but the galaxy itself, the things that make up the environment around them, also means something deeper, more complicated. And it’s everywhere - all throughout the Jedi Code.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

When master Luke had first shared the Mantra with her a few weeks ago, and recited the oath she must take, she had asked him to elaborate. To explain every rule she was meant to follow and every promise she had to keep. She’d been excited. Eager to learn more of her new life, and the things that lay within it.

But the news had been crushing to her. When she realised that attachment was not frowned upon, not thought of as taboo, but forbidden entirely, she’d gone quiet.

The thought rolled through her head over and over, until it didn’t sound real anymore and Luke's usually relaxed face fell into a small frown, watching her absorb the information.

”I…” She began, a lump forming in her throat that she had to swallow. “I’m to never get married? … Never have children?” She asked, tears welling in her eyes.

He was hesitant to respond, able to see, able to feel the sadness within her. The weight of this new knowledge, crushing. He sighed, saddened to have to hurt her further by reconfirming;

“Emotions can cloud our thoughts. These clouds can lead us into unfathomable darkness.” He’d responded, bluntly. “Only those who find a way to rise above the darkness are deemed worthy to become Jedi.”

It was a hard hurdle to get over, to accept, having always thought of herself as the kind to fall in love, get married and settle down. Become a mother, start a family. Eventually. When she met one who was worthy of her love and her, theirs.

But over time, she grew to accept her new way of life. As her connection to the Force grew, so did her understanding of the Dark Side and the necessity of that rule.

With her academic knowledge of the Force, her determination and the uphill battle that was shoving her crush down. Way deep, deep down. She began excelling at her training. She was able to meditate fully with little to no distraction, had found their day exercises across the creeks and forests of Ossus easier to handle and she even managed to blush only a little when he touched her body during their hand-to-hand combat lessons.

It was now, only in her free time that she found herself thinking of him. After he dismissed her for the day and she was no longer required to have to think of him professionally. It was only in the safety of her quarters, in the dark of night as she lay in bed, that she allowed herself to think of his bare hand touching her skin and the fire she felt in her stomach whenever it did. His chest, warm and inviting, vibrating with his voice as he told her how to position her hands to produce the most amount of force in combat. His biceps, that she’d only seen once, on a particularly hot day on the sunny planet they inhabited and he had been stretching after training, muscles flexing with the movement of his arms.

She groaned with frustration, pressing her pillow into her face to muffle the sound.

An uphill battle, indeed.

The next day had been the same as any other. Morning meditation, breakfast and then Force training. But Master Luke pleasantly surprised her when he had made mention of learning something new.

It was midday on Ossus as they sat across from each other, under the shade of a large tree. Stacks of rocks surrounded them, evidence of previous training and meditation sessions. She wore a soft, excited grin on her face, eager to learn. His sandy hair was neat as he spoke to her, saying her name gently.

“In your studies, have you read about Mind Probing?”

Her grin faltered.

Oh, dear Maker, no.

She nodded gently, heat threatening to rise to her cheeks as anxiety slowly filled her and she was thankful that she’d gotten better at mentally shielding, hoping that her Master could not feel her nerves through her Force signature.

She remembers the exact paragraph that she read on Mind-Probing simply because she had had to put the book down as dread filled her at the realisation that she would need to be taught this at some point. She had no clue it would be so soon.

Master Luke’s face remained his usual calm. If he’d noticed her panic in any way, he didn’t show it, nodding in approval and continuing to speak.

“Good.”

She hated the shiver that ran through her at his praise.

“The Force's influence over the minds of other beings can be a valuable tool in the right hands, but it can be easily abused as well.” He began, resting his hands on his knees. “As you will have read; Those on the dark side have been known to use the Force to read the thoughts of other beings and, if necessary, search their minds for information.”

The young woman nodded, trying to keep her face straight as she anxiously toyed with the fabric of her pants. Master Luke’s face showed pure relaxation as he continued.

”It is important for a Jedi to be capable of protecting themselves against such an intrusion, which is why we are going to be practising shielding against the probe.” He finished, observing her silently for a long moment.

She averted her gaze, looking down at a piece of fabric she’d been running her nail over, unable to look at him in the eye, for she was scared of just how much he would be able to see in hers.

“You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question, but merely a statement of truth. One that was impossible to deny, so she didn’t.

She nodded, looking back up at him as she did so. She paused her anxious fidgeting to bring her hands into her lap, eyebrows furrowing as she searched for the right words to say.

“This process is known for being exceptionally painful for the subject undergoing the probe." He stated before she could bring herself to speak. “Is it the pain you fear?”

She was silent for a moment, knowing that if she simply lied and said yes, her Master would see right through her even with her mental shields up. Because, well… she was an absolutely terrible liar.

Master Luke had caught her out a few times; when she’d tell him that she didn’t stay up too late, or that she’d drank plenty of water that day. He always told her that her face gave her away; like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

She let out a small sigh.

“Among other things… yes.” She admitted, a blush dusting her cheeks.

Master Luke observed her for a moment longer before nodding gently, a look of understanding in his eyes.

“I understand that it’s invasive.” He began, raising his gloved hand, as if taking an oath. “I can assure you that I will not look further into your mind than what’s necessary.” He promised, earnestly.

She flushed, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights as she blinked away her embarrassment. She hated that she seemed to be so easy for him to read. Has she always been like this? Or does Luke's connection to the Force make him exceptionally good at picking up people's emotions?

It often made her wonder if he was truly as blind to her attraction for him as he made himself out to be. Surely if he could tell what she was thinking now, he wouldn’t be so blind as to miss her fruitless pining.

And if that was the case, then maybe whatever he sees in her head today will be of no surprise?

She breathed deeply, straightening her back and placing her hands back on her knees, as if she was about to start meditating.

She nodded, breathing out a quiet ‘okay’ as permission.

He mimicked her posture as he spoke.

“When I enter your mind, you will be able to feel me. I will have full access to your thoughts and your memories.” He began, watching her face carefully to ensure she understood his words.

“It will, in fact, be painful and you may find it hard to concentrate. However, your goal is to find me within your mind and push me out.”

She let out a nervous breath, rolling her neck and shoulders back to loosen them, taking some time to ground herself and connect with the environment around her. Using the Force to extend her senses and calm her. She nodded, only closing her eyes after witnessing Master Luke close his, seeming satisfied with her consent.

She took a brief moment to relax. Focussing on breathing and emptying her mind to bring herself to a light meditative state, hoping to prepare herself for the experience and calm her anxiously beating heart in one fell swoop whilst she waited for the man in front of her to invade her mind.

It started as something she could sense. Like a disturbance in the air around her, interrupting the usual waves of energy she was used to.

It exudes calm, much like Luke himself, and starts out as feeling quite unimposing. Unthreatening. She thinks to herself that the sensation is odd - unlike anything she has felt before. But the hair on the back of her neck stands as it approaches her. Almost like a tendril, seen with unseeing eyes through her Force signature, skulking through her environment like a serpent looking for prey. She finds herself bristelling at its proximity, goosebumps rising on her skin as she feels its disturbance wade through her energy. Its calm was unwavering, yet the knowledge of its intention made her nervous.

She gulped as it paused in front of her, waiting and patient.

She tried to brace herself, tried to find a way to preemptively build up a wall in her head to prevent it from entering. Yet still, when it struck, she was unprepared.

She whimpered when it hit her, a pain shooting through her skull, like a hundred migraines occurring at once. Her body tensed and her face screwed up in pain, a blur of sensations and imagery and emotion blew through her and her breathing quickened. A strangled cry escaped her lips.

But suddenly, she could see.

Luke was sitting in front of her, under their tree. The picture was hazy, as though a camera was going in and out of focus but he was there all the same; discussing Mind Probing, the wind blowing through his hair as she thought about how beautiful he was. Just as she had just moments ago.

She felt another bout of pain, gritting her teeth to prevent from crying out as the imagery changed, to the mediation they’d done earlier that day. Then again, to her breakfast.

Images of her most recent days flowed through her, the pain getting worse and worse as the memories sped past, the pressure in her mind expanding as the memories went further back, to when they first started training together. When all she thought about was Luke. Her stolen glances, her silent pining.

Through the pain, she felt a pang of embarrassment in her chest, panic shooting through her body as she clutched the fabric of her pants. She struggled to get ahold of herself, to capture her own thoughts through the fog of Luke in her head and the pain making its way down her spine.

Watching him as he stretched. Gazing him up and down.

She let out a grunt as she felt him pushing further, her eyelashes growing wet as tears built up in her eyes as she forced herself to breath strangled breaths, searching desperately for a way to push him out.

She imagined a wall - a barrier. Similar to the one she used for her usual mental shielding, but it was weak against his effort. He pushed against it.

His arms through his tunic. The feeling she got between her legs when she stared at his hands for too long.

She let out a strained sob, eyebrows furrowing and teeth gritting as she began pushing, the image growing blurry with her effort.

She could feel him resisting, pushing himself against the imaginary wall she’d built, trying to wiggle himself through.

She found her embarrassment begin to bubble, flipping inside her chest and morphing to anger. Frustration. The fire of the new emotion helped her as she imagined the wall moving forward, back through her thoughts and memories, shoving against the intrusion, slowly forcing him back out.

The pain grew easier to handle the further forward she pushed, but her mind and body grew tired. She put everything into pushing him back, back to the beginning where he kept her fighting for another moment, pushing against the barrier she struggled desperately to keep up.

She could feel the sweat beading at her forehead as she fought, a shaky breath escaping her as she pushed and pushed and pushed until he eventually, finally, he relented, letting go so suddenly that she hadn't even realised what was happening as a blur of imagery and emotions blew passed her, feeling as though she was falling; hurtling through the Force.

For a moment, she thought she may have gotten lost in her own head. Somehow made a mess of herself and had spun out of control in her own mind.

But as she slowed, an image grew clearer, not of Luke, but of herself.

She sat in the Temple, at the dining table where they ate all their meals, nose buried in one of the historical texts that she could hardly put down, looking awfully concentrated.

She lifted a spoon full of soup up, not daring to take her eyes off the book for even a second as she struggled to find her own mouth, completely missing and dipping her chin in the spoon of soup.

A rush of amusement ran through her own body as she watched herself, feeling the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips as affection bubbled in her chest, heart beating the tiniest bit harder.

Confusion swam through her mind, not understanding quite what was going on. So, she pushed forward, the imagery changing, swirling wispily around her as if in a dream.

She could see herself again, during their runs through the bamboo forest, hopping on the stones across the creek.

She pushed once more, only to see the ceiling of a room she didn’t recognise and was overcome with pleasure, thoughts of herself flooding her mind as her pleasure increased; the ghost of a deep moan emerging from the memory.

Without warning, a flash of white surrounded her and she felt as if she was travelling a million miles an hour, hurtling through memories once again as she was shoved out with so much force, she physically toppled back.

She took heaving breaths as confusion clouded her, bringing a hand up to her sore head, groaning. She lay on her back for a moment before moving an arm underneath her to lift herself up into a half-seated position, resting her weight on one arm as she used her other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, catching her breath.

She opened her eyes, the sun was blinding as they focussed on the figure in front of her, taking a second to adjust in her disorientation. The blurriness cleared to reveal Master Luke in front of her, red faced and mouth agape, looking absolutely mortified.

Understanding flooded her as she finally realised what she had just experienced. Her eyes widened, blinking in awe as she opened her mouth to speak but found herself hesitating.

She pushed herself up fully, resting her weight on her hand.

"D-did I just-" she began but stopped short when Luke stood up.

She watched as he lifted himself off the grass, smoothing out his tunic and pants, face now back to its usual blank state but cheeks still fiery red and for the first time ever, he was avoiding eye contact with her.

"Master Luke, I'm sorry, I didn't-" She wanted to grovel at his feet after what she'd done, apologise for having invaded his personal space. But he raised his hand, signalling her to stop.

He was silent for a second, seeming to need to collect himself before speaking, looking down at his feet as he cleared his throat.

"I think that's enough for today. We'll pick back up tomorrow." His voice had a polite tone, but there was a roughness to it that she hadn't heard before, like he was holding back frustration.

She wanted to speak again, to apologise. She even opened her mouth to do so, but found any potential words dead in her throat.

"You're dismissed." He looked down at the younger woman for a brief second and nodded curtly before beginning to walk back to the temple, his strides longer and faster than she was used to, leaving her under the shade of their tree to process what had just happened.

She spent the rest of the day alone, trying her hardest to train independently, despite having been dismissed by Luke, but finding herself so distracted that she decided to just finish training early anyway, heading back to the temple and pottering around, trying to rid herself of the guilt that sat in the pit of her stomach.

She knew Luke must’ve been really upset when he didn’t show up for dinner. When the servant droid placed her plate in front of her and hadn’t returned to place one on the other side of the table, she felt her heart sink a little more.

She sighed, moving her padawan braid behind her shoulder and began eating solemnly.

She felt terrible for what she did, invading his privacy like that. Having made him look at her the way that he did, unable to look her in the eye. Like he had been betrayed.

But the worst part of it all, what kept eating away at her; she hated to admit it. Hated to be in direct violation of the Jedi Code by being so utterly selfish by finding that the guilt that bubbled in her gut, did not come from the invasion of privacy, but from the knowledge that she had enjoyed what she saw. The image played over and over again in her head, involuntarily, as if it was a malfunctioning hologram, skipping over itself to replay all over.

The guilt followed her to bed that night, where instead of smiling up at her ceiling like she often did, her fingers twitched by her sides as she lay awake, filled with the knowledge that he had pleasured himself while thinking of her.

It took every ounce of self restraint to not do the same - knowing she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye tomorrow if she did.

The next morning was bright and warm as she breathed deeply under their tree, body relaxed and mind empty as the rocks around her hovered silently.

Luke was usually already under the tree when she arrived, having been meditating for Maker knows how long before she even left the Temple, but when he hadn’t been sitting in his usual place when she walked up the small hill today, she had accepted, with much disappointment, that she would be training on her own for the day.

She was, however, pleasantly surprised when she felt a familiar presence enter her senses. Despite her eyes being closed, she could see him, walking toward their tree, looking at her with his usual neutral expression as he adjusted his leather glove on his right hand, no sign of the blush that graced his cheeks yesterday afternoon.

Although, she noticed something about him immediately. That something was different. It took her a moment of mulling it over to realise that it was that his presence in the Force seemed… hollow, almost. Like something was missing.

She quickly realised that he was guarded. Shielding himself from her.

“I was starting to think I’d be training on my own today.” She stated when he’d gotten close.

He was silent for a moment and she could see him pause in front of her, looking down at her as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

”I’m sorry for running late.” He said, moving toward his usual place in front of her.

She could hear the rustling of his clothes as he moved his hands to his sides, looking at her with that unreadable look that she loved and hated. His breathing was relaxed but he had a tenseness in his shoulders that was not usually there.

“Don’t apologise,” She began, opening her eyes slowly to look up at him properly. “I’d be upset at me too, after what I did yesterday.”

He said nothing as he stared at her, face relaxed except for a soft furrow of his brow. She sighed, lowering the rocks around her gently to the ground and moving her hands into her lap, toying with her fingers.

“I… invaded your privacy. I entered your mind without your permission, and I apologise for that.” She said, thankful that she could finally get the apology out in the open, after sitting with the weight of it on her shoulders since the second she’d seen his face yesterday.

She found it hard to look directly at him, as despite him being a beautiful and kind man, he was intimidating. He was often hard to read, even when he wasn’t shielding himself from her. When unguarded, he usually emitted an aura of calm. Pure neutrality. The same way she felt when she just finished meditating. But his presence was also always intense. Heavy.

And now, with his shield up and no way to feel his usual calm demeanor, the only thing she could feel was his intensity.

Maybe it was her attraction to him that made him feel so intimidating to her, maybe it was just the way that he was, but she felt herself grow nervous. However, she chose to keep herself open. Allowed him to feel her anxiety, her guilt, her pure sincerity, if he chose to pay attention - and she knew he always did.

He breathed in deeply, looking away from her to take a seat across from the younger woman, now eye level with her. She felt a small shift in the air around them, filling her with a gentle wave of emotion. Calm.

He’d opened himself up to her, just a little.

She looked at him again, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

“It was an accident.” He stated, simply. A soft, reassuring smile on his lips. “You pushed too hard and when I left your mind, you followed me into mine. I should’ve prepared myself for it but I didn’t.” He moved, straightening his back and relaxing his shoulders, evidently preparing to join her in meditation.

“I accept your apology and I’d like to offer you one of my own. For not informing you of the possibility.”

She smiled, joining him in adjusting her posture as she nodded.

“It’s okay.” She confirmed, closing her eyes once again, grateful to feel the weight of anxiety lifted off her chest. The day moved like every other, training as normal, eating together as always.

But there was something different between them now. A shift in their dynamic.

It was subtle at first - she assumed it was simply the fact that they’d moved past a hitch in their platonic relationship. A teaching moment between Master and Padawan, moving past their personal feelings and focussing on the training at hand.

However, as the days passed, lingering glances had turned into shy eye contact. Her blushing cheeks at his touch were met with knowing smirks. Their dinners, usually littered with small talk and questions about Jedi training, turned into meaningful conversations. Hells, she’d even made him laugh a few times and boy, was she ecstatic to discover that Luke Skywalker, the most serious and quiet man she knows, Jedi Knight, has the sweetest, most boyish giggle she’s ever heard. She revelled in the sight of his toothy smile, cheeks creasing with the size of his grin.

Her heart pounded even just thinking about it as he led her to a new location of the Temple, one that had still been getting built by worker droids when she first arrived to Ossus for training. The room was large and open, with a lifted podium in the centre, where he led her before handing her a wooden pole, the handle surrounded in metal and wrapped in leather, to replicate the weight of a mechanical hilt.

Her eyes widened.

”Saber training?” She said, awestruck as she gazed up at Luke, who looked down at her with the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nodded, moving to stand in front of the shorter woman, hands behind his back as he watched her.

“I’d like you to position yourself in a fighting stance.” He said simply, face blank once again, calm yet intimidating aura ever present.

Despite their recent change of dynamic in their free time, he rarely shifted his focus off of training her properly.

There had been a few times where she tried to keep their light conversation from dinner or breakfast going into their lessons, but had each time been met with a telling look or sometimes even a gentle scolding, her name rolling off of his tongue with a disciplinary tone. A reminder to stay focussed.

She gripped the hilt of the wooden saber in her hands and shuffled her feet shoulder-width apart, bending her knees slightly, trying to mimic the stance she’d seen in the Holothrillers that Peli and her would watch on Mos Eisley.

Once in position, she looked at Luke, waiting for him to provide further guidance.

He observed her, gaze slowly trailing down her body as he took in her position, tilting his head as he did so, seeming ponderous.

Her stomach fluttered at the sight of his eyes taking her in with his very serious expression, his jaw tightening as he observed her.

He started to move, his hands staying behind his back as he slowly circled her, his footsteps echoing in the open space, their sound becoming her only knowledge of his location after he exited her vision, reminding her once again of her weakness in the Force when preoccupied and not meditating. Their recent Force training sessions had been consistent with that Maker-forsaken Training Remote. The burns on her legs and feet from its tiny beams are proof enough of her ineptitude with the Force when distracted. They would soon have to make a trip into the city for more Bacta at the rate she’s going through it.

His sudden appearance directly behind her startles her, jumping when he begins speaking. She swears she can hear the hit of a smirk in his voice, amused by her skittishness.

“Your instinctual position proves almost perfect.” He begins, “However, we need to make a few small adjustments.”

He takes a step closer and the only thing she can sense without the aid of the Force is the sound of his clothes rustling as he moves and the sound of his leather glove stretching with his fingers. Her grip on the hilt of the wooden saber tightens as she anticipates his touch, her senses heightened as her heart began to pound.

Her breath hitches when she feels his gloved hand touch the back of her thigh, pushing as he does so.

“Bend your knees a little more.”

She does as he says, lowering herself with his hand guiding her, revelling in the feeling of his fingers. The smooth leather of his glove makes her yearn for the touch of his skin against hers. She can’t help but think of him gripping her thigh, moving her however he wants.

His hand pulling away pulls her out of her thoughts, the ghost of his touch tingling her skin, making her legs feel weak.

He then gently places both hands on her shoulders, just soft enough to stabilise her as he brings himself closer, warm chest nearly touching her back as he uses the outside of his boot to push on the inside of her right foot, spreading her legs the tiniest bit more.

The unexpected action makes face flush and her toes curl in her shoes as she has to consciously focus on keeping her breathing steady. Mind wandering, immediately.

”Keeping your feet further apart helps with agility when in combat.” He stated, factually, his breath on her ear and she has to try not to shiver at the feeling.

He removed his hands slowly, trailing down her upper arms before retreating fully as he moved to stand in front of her again, keeping his distance close.

The young woman took deep breaths, closing her eyes to take a moment to relax before opening them again, her dilated pupils taking him in. His face stayed neutral, exuding relaxation as he watched her and she hoped she didn’t look as desperate as she felt, practically panting with want, too aware of every part of her body that yearned for his touch, from her hands, to her feet, to the apex of her thighs.

She grew tired as she kept her shield up, strengthening it as her thoughts wandered, trying to focus on anything other than his eyes or his hands or his stupid unreadable face.

She took another deep breath.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. His demeanor remained unchanged as he looked down to her hands gripping the hilt before he raised his own, gloved fingers gripping the saber while the other hand reaches for hers.

She let out a shaky breath when his skin touched hers as he repositioned her hands, swapping them around whilst he held her saber for her.

She hoped she wasn’t reading too far into it when his hand lingered on her fingers for a moment longer than it should’ve.

“Always lead with your dominant hand.”

He moved away again, walking with his hands behind his back as he observed just as he did before, eyes roaming her body for signs of imperfection. His head moved as he looked her over, circling her once again, his gaze burning into her skin.

His demeanor made her feel like a rabbit in a lion's den. And her face flushed at the knowledge that she liked it.

The rest of saber training had felt torturous. Not only because of his lingering touches, but because watching her Master wield a saber with ease, his tunic tightening around his muscles, his breathing growing ragged with exertion was like collapsing dehydrated in the middle of the desert and seeing an ice cold water bottle sitting just outside of reach. Like being in a prison cell, the key to the door hanging just outside the bars.

Like being infatuated with a man you can’t have.

She touched herself in the refresher to the thought of him, after training.

After dinner, spending some time in the Temple library, opting for a romance book after the excitement of the day, and doing her final meditation for the night, she retired to bed where she tossed and turned more than she usually would.

The events of her day played over in her mind, the ghost of her Masters touch still present on her skin.

She came to wonder if her frustration with her inability to be with the man she so desperately and selfishly pined for, indicated a dark desire. A path to the Dark Side. If, deep down, she really was filled with selfishness and hate.

She’d never identified with the Dark Side, often finding the lust for power obnoxious and all-too similar to Earth's facism, a political standpoint she’s always detested. But the Dark and the Light side of the Force were not a simple matter of opinion or politics.

No, it was almost as though it was destined. Something that the Force predetermined to keep balance within it. So, although she felt no pull to the Dark Side, was her selfish desire for Luke Skywalker a pathway to it? Would this infatuation with her Master create a pull that has already been predetermined?

The thought had her restless and after chasing sleep for an hour and it eluding her, she decided to just continue reading the new book she had started this evening in hopes of putting her racing thoughts behind her.

Flipping the blankets off of her body and shuffling to the edge of the bed, she stood to walk to the other side of her quarters, where the book sat on the table next to a small carpet she used for her evening meditations. Luke had placed it in here, insisting she have somewhere other than just their tree to sit and meditate.

She gripped the book whilst looking down at the cover, an image of a Human man holding a Twi’lek woman by the waist, staring lovingly into her eyes. She sighed down at it almost longingly before moving to make her way back to her bed.

Her feet stopped dead on the stone floor when a small, nagging feeling rose up on the back of her neck. It almost felt like a small tingle, like a bug was crawling on her skin or her hair was grazing her neck. She thought she may have imagined it at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. A shiver ran down her spin and her blood ran cold.

She stood in the centre of her room, waiting. Feeling. Goosebumps rose on her skin as the shiver expanded across her whole body, her feet had pins and needles.

Something was wrong.

Her eyebrows furrowed, her toes flexed against the stone tiles as an image of a black mask appeared in her mind. A flash of blinding red light.

A deep feeling of dread filled her, her chest tightening as the feeling overwhelmed her and she brought a hand up to place her palm against it, feeling her heartbeat rattling in her ribcage.

It was then that she heard a scream. Not in her head, but within the Temple.

Luke.

The book fell to her feet and she took off, ripping her door open and sprinting down the hall, through the common area where they ate together and down the opposite hallway, toward her Masters quarters.

She had never been here before, had never even thought about coming here, out of respect for the unspoken expectation between Master and Padawan. But as she grew closer, the hairs on her arms stood as the overwhelming sense of danger flooded her senses.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think it over for a second before pulling the door open and running so fast into Luke's room that she nearly tumbled over the area rug on the floor.

Luke laid seemingly unharmed in his bed, writhing and whimpering. But as she watched him, flashes of red light flooded her head and she blinked as they appeared.

“Luke!” She yelled, running to his side, looking down at him under the covers, the word ‘no’ tumbling out of his lips between whimpers and groans.

She was confused, brows furrowing as panic filled her. Was he just dreaming? And if he was just dreaming, why was she sensing it? Experiencing it through the Force?

His shoulders convulsed as he let out wailing sobs. His face scrunched as he began crying and her heart clenched at the sight. His beautiful face twisted into agony, as though he was in mourning.

She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, his bare skin wet with sweat, jostling him in an attempt to wake him.

“Luke, please!” She cried, anxious to get him out of whatever dream he was having. He continued to writhe, his hair stuck to his damp forehead.

She placed a knee on his bed, leaning over him to capture both of his shoulders to shake him.

”Luke! Wake up!” She shouted louder this time, being cautious as to not injure him with her grip.

He gasped as his eyes shot open, the word ‘no’ still escaping his lips as his body jolted out of sleep, startling even more at the sight of her.

She let out a small yelp as he shot up, her hands leaving his shoulders and up to her chest, frightened by his sudden movement.

”it’s okay!” She shouted over his whimpers, “Luke, it’s okay! It’s me!” She pleaded.

Confusion clouded his eyes as his body heaved with ragged breath, bracing one hand on his bed and bringing the other to his chest, flattening it across his sternum as he caught his breath, still whimpering and mumbling, as if still coming out of the throws of his dream.

“Luke, are you ok?” She brought a hand down to his forearm, grazing his skin gently so as to not frighten him again.

He flinched a little at the contact but settled when his eyes caught hers, clearer than they were before and she breathed out a relieved breath, grateful to see the recognition in his face.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to gain control of his breathing. His face was still twisted in confusion and panic.

“I-I can’t-“ He tried to speak but struggled, closing his eyes.

She looked around his room quickly, realising she hadn’t taken note of anything when she’d entered and hoped to find something that could help him now.

She nearly gasped in happiness when her eyes settled on the glass jug of water on the table across from the bed.

“Hang on.” She stated, giving his arm a reassuring tap before hurrying over to the table, picking up one of the upturned glasses on the tray and pouring some fresh water into it.

She brought it back over to his bed, grabbing at his hand to guide it to the glass, where he looked up at her with grateful eyes and a furrowed brow. He nodded in thanks as he gripped it with shaky hands, bringing it to his lips to take a sip.

She then hurried to the other side of the room, grateful to see that their quarters were practically identical. She rushed over his own meditation mat and pulled aside the thin curtains so she could open a set of balcony doors, allowing the cool night breeze to enter the room, something she often did whilst she was meditating in her own room.

She turned to watch him sigh in relief when the breeze hit his wet skin, the messy bed hair on his head moved with it. He removed the glass from his lips, bringing it down to rest in his lap.

It was only now, after her goosebumps died down and the shiver of imminent danger had left her, that she took notice of his appearance.

He was shirtless, the sheet that had initially covered him when she entered pooled on his lap, exposing his chest. He was unexpectedly lean, although she supposed you had to be to be a Jedi; even she had noticed a difference in her body after she began her training almost a standard year ago. The moonlight flooding in from the open door glistened against his moist skin, revealing the contours of his biceps, and as she looked at his arms from her new position in his quarters, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing his signature leather glove and she could now see his broken skin, where something metallic shined in the moonlight from underneath.

As she walked closer, she realised that underneath the skin of his right hand was metal and wiring, the skin around it seeming damaged.

She had heard the stories, heard that he’d had his hand cut off by his own father, but had never known the legitimacy of them. All the books, Holothrillers and verbal retellings had said different things. Some that he was the hero, others that he was the villain. But they all showed the same depiction of his father. A man in a black mask with a red saber.

She sat cautiously on the other side of the bed, watching as he finally caught his breath.

“Are you ok?” She asked, quietly. Despite being the only two in the temple that aren’t droids, the darkness of the night made her feel like she had to whisper, like they were sharing a secret they didn’t want others to hear.

Luke moved to place the glass of water on his nightstand and she mentally scolded herself as she watched his muscles contort with the movement.

“Yes, thank you,’ he began, still capturing his breath as he moved back to look at her. “I apologise if I woke you.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, toying with his fingers as he stared at her with a sheepish expression.

He was embarrassed.

She shook her head, adjusting her position on his bed so that she was sitting on her knees, facing him entirely.

“You didn’t.” She tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear, watching as Luke took in her nightgown and untied tresses. She realised that he had also never seen her like this and probably found it equally as jarring as she did.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was about to start reading my new book to see if it would help when I became overwhelmed with a terrible feeling.” She explained, looking down at her lap. ”I had no clue what it was until I heard you yell.”

Luke suddenly moved, and she looked up at him, seeing a look of surprise on his face as he adjusted his position to face her.

“You could sense it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never felt anything like it. It was like the room just stilled and all I could feel was this overwhelming sense of danger or fear - but it wasn’t my own.” She elaborated, realising that Luke was clearly interested in her experience. She watched as he nodded, silently urging her to continue.

“And then I could see… a figure. A man in a mask. But I wasn't really seeing it. It was like a picture had appeared in my head.”

Luke nodded, a soft smile adorning his face.

“Your connection with the force has grown.” He stated simply, gulping down the last of his ragged breath. He seemed almost proud but there was a distant look in his eye, as if he was still thinking of his dream.

She shuffled closer, moving toward him again, capturing her nightgown in her hand to gather it at her knees so she could move without the fabric getting in the way.

She lowered her voice again as she asked;

”Were you dreaming of Vader?”

His eyes met hers for a brief moment before moving again to stare down at the bedsheets, his face scrunched as he thought, his hair still stuck to his forehead.

“N-no. It was someone else.” She could tell he was thinking back, trying to connect any dots he could find. “I didn’t recognise him. But you feeling it through the Force tells me that this was not just a dream.” He lets out a sigh, bringing his robotic hand up to his hair, smoothing it out.The mechanical pieces clicked quietly as they moved with him.

“A premonition?” She asked, awestricken at the thought. Luke gravely nodded in return, his hand dropping to his lap once again.

”Do you ever know when it will come true?” She questions further, knees knocking with his as she moves even closer to him without thinking, interest piqued. She’d read of Jedi getting prophetic visions and had found great interest in it, having never experienced one before - until now, she supposed.

He looked down at their legs, seeming to think for a moment before responding.

“No, it’s hard to know when it will happen. It may never happen.” He began, his eyes on her exposed knees and the fabric of her nightgown pooled between her thighs.

She came to a slow realisation of the situation they were currently in.

She was in his quarters. In the middle of the night. In his bed. In nothing but a nightgown.

She suddenly hoped the white light of the moon didn’t reveal the blush on her cheeks as he continued speaking, the air around them seeming to have shifted as he, too, realised their predicament.

“The future is always changing. The actions of the present are constantly adjusting the future.” He gazed down at her, his voice thinning as he spoke.

There was something different about him as he sat across from her. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just woken from a nightmare or, as she’d just discovered, a premonition, but he was more expressive. His usually neutral face was still relaxed, a great juxtaposition to how he looked earlier, but his eyes communicated more than she was used to. He continued looking at the way her nightgown flowed around her, eyes glittering in the moonlight. His eyes would meet hers every so often, as if to maintain the guise of innocence as his jaw clenched, the action visible in the contrast of the soft light.

The room seemed heavier, and she wasn't sure if it was the Force, or her imagination, but there was almost a kind of electricity filling the space between them. The new aura around them made her stomach flutter, reminding her of their time saber training earlier today, a memory that has her mental scolding herself once again, sure that she was to make a fool of herself if she thinks too hard about the way he touched her then and the way his body moved under his tunic. What she would give to see him do it shirtless like this.

She swallowed, fingers clenching her nightgown nervously, an action she see’s Lukes eyes catch instantly. Her inner thighs tingle and her heart pounds as she prepares herself to speak.

“Are the dreams of a Jedi often premonitions?” She asked, voice weak as she moved her eyes down to his body, his biceps twitching with every small movement as he toyed with his fingers in his lap. She watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he gulped.

His hair was still tousled, shoulders moving in breaths that still aren’t quite even, his eyes shining with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Not always... But they can be.” His response was delayed, distracted almost. His eyes were lidded as they darted across her face. At her eyes, to her lips and across her cheeks that looked so smooth and so pleasant in the night.

A cold breeze blew through the open balcony window, making the curtains behind her dance and her nightgown move against her body, brushing against her nipples. Her toes curled as they hardened in response, a quiet breath escaped her, nearly inaudible, but he heard it. Of course he heard it.

Luke watched as her hair flowed around her shoulders, not used to seeing it out of its usual braid or bun. She could see his eyes trail down the strands of hair within her padawan braid, down to her collarbones, and he licked his lips when his gaze met her chest, breath seeming to falter at the sight.

His breathing grew heavy again as she leaned forward without thinking, her body moving practically without her permission. She wasn’t even thinking about what she was doing. Her stomach bubbled with longing and all she knew was that she needed to be close to him.

“How do you tell the difference between a dream and something prophetic?” She whispered, pausing so she could look into his eyes, looking at whatever emotion lay beneath them, desperate to know if this was ok, If she was reading this correctly.

There was something there, something akin to desire. But there was hesitation as well. She could see it in the crease between his eyebrows. It made her hesitate, not wanting to push this further if he didn’t want it.

“You just feel it.” He responded shakily, swallowing once more as his eyes darted to her lips, his tongue wetting his own without a second thought. When his eyes met hers again, there was an excited cloudiness there.

She took it as her sign. Her permission to lean in closer, watching him as she did so for any sign of discomfort, but he looked at her lips again and she could’ve sworn he leaned in too.

She could feel his hot breath on her face as she neared and she stopped just before their lips met, waiting for him to make the final move.

He hesitated.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He stated simply but didn’t make a move to pull away, his voice a rough whisper.

Her nose bumped his as she moved the smallest bit to look him in the eye, lips moving further away just by a centimetre

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked. Her question was genuine, but it came out breathlessly. Dreamily. Full of want.

He took a moment to respond, gulping nervously, his breathing shaky.

She was about to pull away, about to apologise for her forwardness when he finally shook his head.

“No.”

He still didn’t move toward her, like he was nervous to make the first move but when she finally brought her lips to his in a gentle kiss, he responded immediately. His lips closed around hers without question, soft and cautious.

Despite her initiating it, he took the lead, repositioning his head to capture her lips with more ease, adjusting his body as he leant in.

She lifted a hand to his cheek, sighing against his lips when he leant into her touch, moving his real hand to the side of her neck, cupping the back of her head to pull her in whilst his mechanical hand rested on her thigh in front of him.

As the kiss deepened, she lifted herself on to her knees, cautiously crawling into his lap, making sure he had plenty of time to stop her if he felt like he needed to, but he welcomed her gladly. His hand on her thigh slid up to her hip to pull her in, the fabric of her nightgown riding up unintentionally as he did.

She settled into his lap, body on fire as her thighs rested around his waist, enjoying the way her bare skin felt against his.

The kiss was heated, breathless and desperate, but remained innocent enough until his grip on her tightened and he pulled her closer, chests completely flush.

A whine left her throat at the feeling of her bare sex brushing against the unmistakable hardness under his sleep pants.

He sighed in response, moving his hand from her neck to her bare thigh, pulling her in closer again, encouraging the movement of her hips.

She ground down on him properly for the first time and he whined into her mouth. The sound was deep and desperate and she could feel it vibrate in his chest against her breasts as it came out.

She moved a hand to the back of his head, lacing her fingers through his hair as she felt Luke’s tongue ask for entrance against her lips.��

She moved her hips again when their tongues met, encouraging him to continue. Giving him all the clues he needed to keep going, the reassurance that she was enjoying herself and that she was desperate for more of him.

His hand on her thigh trailed up under the fabric of her nightgown and around the curve of her ass, gripping it as he pulled her against him, jutting his hips up to meet the movement. She gripped his shoulder as her folds rubbed against his length, finding herself frustrated at the barrier of his sleep pants between them.

He placed his other hand under her nightgown, the fabric gathering on his forearms as he explored her bare skin, bringing his hands up to capture her breast in his palm, giving it an experimental squeeze.

She pushed her chest further into his hand whilst she rocked against him, breathing laboured. She sighed when he grunted in appreciation at the weight of her in his palm.

His thumb brushed against her nipple lightly and she pulled away from the kiss to let out a shaky moan, taking a moment to look at him.

“We really shouldn’t do this.” She stated, looking him in the eyes. But her actions betrayed her words, cupping his cheek and rolling her hips again, eyes closing at the feeling. She knew how he felt about this. About the Jedi Code. And wanted to give him any out he may have needed before they went too far.

But he groaned at her excitement, at the feeling of her wetness seeping through his cotton pants, eyes dropping to her neck and collarbone, where he brought a hand up to move her padawan braid over her shoulder with the rest of her hair.

“Do you want me to stop?” He mimicked her words from just moments before, his voice raspy and breathless as he brought his lips to her throat, shivering when he heard her gasp and grip the back of his hair at the feeling.

“Please don’t.” She moaned, revelling in the feeling of his lips dancing across her skin.

He let out a deep chuckle, one she’d never heard from him before, his breath cooling the saliva on her neck, making her whine as he brought his hands down to the hem of her gown and began pulling it up. A wave of excitement ran through her as he removed his lips to lift the fabric over her head, leaving her bare in front of him.

His eyes roamed her body, wetting his lips as he looked down at her breasts, discarding the garment wherever it fell and bringing both of his hands to her chest, thumbs grazing over her nipples once more, a restrained breath leaving his mouth as he watched as her face contorted in pleasure.

She reached a hand between them, tugging at the band of his cotton sleepwear to communicate what she wanted.

She lifted herself up on her knees, giving him space to pull the garment down.

Her thighs quivered with excitement as his length was freed from his pants, pink tip wet with precum and standing flush and straight.

She helped him rid his legs of the fabric so they were both bare for one another, hearts hammering and chests heaving with strained breath as they gazed at each other, the weight of what they were about to do sinking in. They didn’t move for a moment, looking to the other for their final looks of approval, to make sure this was a decision they wanted to make together.

He looked up at her, eyes softening as he brought his hand to her cheek, pulling her in. She captured his lips in a kiss once more, revelling in the spark on her skin where their bare chests connected.

She moved over his lap, rolling her hips once again and they both sighed as her wet folds finally ground against the bare underside of his length. His hand grasped her hip, making her skin feel like it was on fire as his fingers tightened on her body, groaning at the sensation of her slick coating his shaft.

She did it once, twice more before lifting herself on her knees whilst he moved his real hand between their bodies, positioning himself at her entrance.

She lowered herself onto him, watching his face as his tip breached her entrance.

She gasped at the feeling and electricity shot through her. His jaw hung open, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders moved with the inflation of his lungs, eyelids fluttering. He let out a strained moan, his grip bruisingly tight.

They made eye contact as she settled further, taking her time lowering herself on to his length, savouring the feeling of her stretching around his girth.

She moaned when she finally bottomed out, gripping his shoulders to ground her as her thighs quivered. His eyes were blown, pupils dilated as he watched her face, closing them only to place a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, his arms wrapping around her waist as she began to move.

It was agonisingly slow and drove him crazy, the way she moved on him, lifting her hips and feeling him dragging out of her slowly, only to sink back down again at the same pace. Slowly and gently, savouring the feeling of him inside her, like she was committing him to memory.

His grip tightened as he grabbed a hold of her thighs, helping her lift her body, guiding her.

The way he grabbed her made her think he was going to take charge, change the pace and slam her body back down to his. But instead, he matched her pace, moaning into her mouth and jutting his hips in time with hers, needy and desperate but still tender and gentle.

His head dropped to her shoulder as their bodies moved together, leaving sloppy, delirious kisses on her neck every so often while she gripped his hair, moaning into his neck as his fingers gripped her body. The sound of their panting filled the room as their pace quickened, Luke’s breathing growing laboured.

She could tell he was fast approaching his release. Could sense it from the way he grasped at her thighs but also within the air around her, as if the tension in his body filled the room. The coil in his stomach, growing.

His shield must’ve been down.

He moved back, eyes locking with hers as he positioned his mechanical hand between their bodies, the faux skin feeling close to lifelike, but lacking the warmth of his body. She could see the determination in his face, like he knew he was going to finish too fast and wanted to make sure she finished first.

He laid a hand flat on her stomach, reaching his thumb down until he found her clit.

“M-maker.” She gasped, eyes nearly rolling back at the spark his circling thumb sent through her body. If her eyes had been open, she would’ve seen the satisfied smirk he wore when her body stuttered against him, savouring the feeling of her clenching around him. The sounds she was making flowed through him, bringing him closer to his end.

The presence of his pleasure flooded her through the Force, swirling in the air as his release grew near, aiding her journey as well.

As if he could feel it, maybe he actually could, he put more pressure on her clit and her body shivered as she got closer to her climax, struggling to move against him.

He thrust his hips up, using his other hand, still clasped on her waist, to guide her down on to him, taking charge as her body struggled with the extra stimulation. She moaned as his hips bucked into her, his cock filling her beautifully as she throbbed around it, orgasm swirling in her abdomen.

He guided her through it, swirling his thumb around her clit until her thighs convulsed around his waist. Her face contorted in ecstasy, moaning as she reached her climax and Luke finally allowed himself to finish, burying his face in her neck as he whimpered with his release, hips sputtering and biceps flexing with the grip he had on her body, cock twitching inside her.

Her walls throbbed around him as she came down from her high, falling limp against his body, face resting on his shoulder as she caught her breath, enjoying the remaining waves of pleasure as their bodies relaxed into one another.

His hand left her pelvis, moving to engulf her in an exhausted embrace, one hand flat against her back and the other in her hair, thumb rubbing against her jaw.

They stayed there for a while, enjoying being in each other's arms until she eventually pulled back, only to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. He reciprocated sweetly, stroking her hair softly and massaging his fingers into her scalp.

They pulled apart to rest their foreheads together, eyes closed and simply appreciating each other's presence, their heavy breathing slowing as they relaxed.

After a while of comfortable silence, a thought struck her and the young woman smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, hand moving to cover her mouth as she opened her eyes.

Luke pulled back to look her in the eye, a smile toying at his lips.

“What?” He asked with a soft voice.

She giggled, covering her face shyly as she shook her head, hair flowing around her shoulders. “It’s nothing-“ she chuckled again, eyes closing as her shoulders shook with soft laughter.

A toothy grin broke out on his face, his cheeks creasing as he let out his own laugh.

“Well now you have to tell me.” He teased, lifting a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear affectionately.

She smiled at him, hesitating for a moment but so caught up in the intimacy of the moment and the laughter between them that she said it anyway.

“I was just thinking…” she trailed off, looking away as she held back another laugh. “That for a man sworn to celibacy, you sure seem to know what you’re doing.” She hid her face as it came out of her mouth, cheeks flushing as she giggled.

Luke’s eyes widened, a surprised look on his face at the forwardness of her statement and for a moment she was nervous she’d said too much. But she relaxed when he scrunched his nose as a shy smile broke out on his face.

“Oh my-“ he cut himself off with a laugh, bringing a hand up to his face in embarrassment.

She laughed even harder at his reaction, thankful that he’d found himself amused by her joke, bringing a hand to rest on his bicep.

He removed his hand from his face and looked up at her again, a wide smile still playing on his lips.

“I haven’t always been a Jedi, you know.” He offered as an explanation, dropping his hand to play with the ends of her hair.

She smirked, deciding to keep going with her teasing.

“So Tattooines resident farm boy, Luke Skywalker, got around that much, huh?” She poked his cheek playfully when she said it, smiling when he rolled his eyes in jest.

“Not that much.” He shook his head, swatting her hand away gently. “But I did have a friend, Biggs, who loved to talk about all of his experiences.” He exaggerated his words when describing his friend, a boyish giggle left his throat at the memory, his face plastered with his grin.

She smiled affectionately at him as she toyed with his robotic hand that he hadn’t removed from hers, feeling the replicated skin and the mechanics underneath it, watching as the gears moved with every twitch of his fingers.

When his laugh died down, he continued;

“And you know that we aren’t sworn to celibacy.” He teased, still toying with the ends of her hair with his other hand, trailing his fingertips across the bead that secured the braid behind her ear, the hair within it longer than the rest on her head.

“We can technically make love, we just can’t be in love.” He finished, a smirk still playing on his lips but she could hear the way he trailed off, watched as the smile slowly left his face and a sudden sadness filled his eyes.

She smiled softly at him, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Sounds like a loophole to me.” She joked, lacing her fingers with his. He looked down at them, rubbing a mechanical thumb across the back of her hand, the whirring of the gears within it breaking the silence in the room.

She doesn’t know why she says it, why it was on her mind or why she thought it was a good idea to verbalise it, but without thinking, she whispers;

”Those things kind of go hand in hand for me.”

The weight of her words filled the room and she felt mortified the second she said it, in awe of the implied admission in the sentence, but unable to deny it.

His eyes met hers, realisation settling in them as his face fully dropped to one of sadness. Something akin to regret washed over him as he took a moment to respond, mouth opening and closing as he thought of what to say, shaking his head.

The way he said her name reminded her of the times he’d scold her for being distracted, but instead of authority behind his tone, it was disappointment. Heartbreak.

He brought his other hand on top of their clasped fingers.

“This was-“ he stops short, struggling to find the words.

He shook his head, running a thumb over her hand as he tries to collect his thoughts.

“We shouldn’t have…” He can’t bring himself to say any more, but he doesn’t have to.

“I know.” She states, simply. A sad smile ghosts her face as she looks at him, bringing her free hand up to his, cupping his cheek. “I know, Luke.”

Despite his words. Despite what he knows he should be doing; He leans into her touch. Furrowing his eyebrows, gloomy eyes looking into hers as he watched them begin to tear up. His chest tightened at the sight of her eyes welling, gripping her hand tighter.

“C-can we just…” She began, swallowing the lump in her throat in an attempt not to cry. “Can we pretend that it’s ok? Just for tonight?” She asked, pushing his hair back to get a better view of his face, committing the view of his desperate eyes in the white light of the moon to memory.

His stare darted between her eyes, seeming torn. He was silent for a while, jaw clenching as his mind raced. But eventually, he sighed, rubbing his real hand over her forearm, almost reassuringly as he nodded, a sad smile on his face.

She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, leaning down to peck his lips once more and he held her there, savouring the feeling of her lips on his.

She adjusted herself in his lap, his cock still half-hard inside her and he let out a small, overstimulated grunt, pulling away for a second to look her in the eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe the tear that began to roll down her cheek.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He promised, cradling her face.

She nodded with a sad smile, leaning in to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

The night passed slowly as swapped stories, sharing laughs together in each other's embrace, tangled in the bed sheets as the sound of the curtains shuffling in the breeze filled the room amongst their whispers.

He told her of his time growing up on Tatooine. Of his best friend, Biggs and his aunt Beru and Uncle Owen and all the trouble he’d get in for getting up to mischief in town. He explained how he and Biggs used to race landspeeders and fly small ships whenever they could, often crashing or ending up somewhere they shouldn’t have just because they egged each other on and brought out the worst in each other in the most beautifully chaotic way. He said that doing these silly things had made him realise that he wanted to be a pilot, and had even applied for the Imperial academy, simply because he knew they would train him to fly better than he knew he already could.

He made her giggle at the mention of his childhood memories of Peli, who he hadn’t really known as anything but the mean lady at the Spaceport that wouldn’t let the aspiring-pilots in to look at any of the ships in her hangars, even when the young boys begged.

She shook her head in amusement, unsurprised by his observation of the older woman. A smile graced her lips as she did, only dimming slightly after an oddly homesick feeling struck her, realising that she hadn’t seen her old boss, someone that she considered a friend, in quite a long time.

Luke, whether through the Force or solely from her facial expression, had noticed the shift in her, asking her sweetly to tell him of her past.

He’d known the surface-level things. That she was from a primitive planet in a far away galaxy and became stranded on Tatooine, ignorant to many of the workings of her new home. But he listened intently as she explained how Peli, despite being an abrasive and rude woman on the surface, had selflessly taken the young woman in after seeing the lost look on her face when the ship that she’d landed in not an hour earlier, had taken off without her on it.

She explained how she felt quite neanderthalic, having little to no knowledge of most of the technology she came across or how the currency system worked.

Peli had helped her through it all in the months they lived together by explaining the politics to her, reciting the history she knew of and even teaching her to read and write in other common languages in the afternoons, after dinner and before she retired to her uncomfortable cot in the back of the Tool Shop, where she slept amongst the droids.

Their chatting lasted hours, even after their eyes began to get heavy and they started yawning, unwilling to let the night end. There was a part of her that wondered if he, too, was trying to enjoy it while it lasted, for they knew they had to face reality tomorrow.

She tried not to think of the sunrise and the knowledge of the inevitable serious discussion they would have to have when the time came.

Finding comfort, for now, in the safety of the moonlight as they revelled in feeling as though they had no responsibility, wrapped up in the discussion of their interests and passions outside of training.

They stopped only to share sweet kisses or even to once again become a mess of tangled limbs as he eased them both slowly back into the throws of… what did he call it?

Making love.

Hands gripping at each other's bodies, moans swallowed by each other's mouths, too absorbed with each other to even think about the world around them as she grabbed at his body for purchase, tugging at his hair without thinking.

She nearly felt bad for it, even through her sex-drunk daze, having not intended to grab him so harshly, but she was pleasantly surprised when she felt his hips sputter, moaning into her neck as he came again.

She found herself pocketing that knowledge in the back of her mind for later.

He collapsed on top of her, being cautious to rest his weight on his arms, as to not crush her under him.

She kept her hand in his hair, loosening her grip to gently massage his scalp lazily, arms as weak as the rest of her body as her chest heaved and her legs twitched.

His eyes closed at the feeling of her hand in his hair, revelling in the comfort he found within it and finding himself unwilling for it to stop.

He withdrew from her, both of them wincing with sensitivity and letting out small grunts at the feeling. But instead of rolling to her side or moving off of her, he chose to move down to rest his head against her chest, spreading his body across the mattress and bringing his hands to her sides, holding her dearly as he listened to her erratic heartbeat.

She moved her other arm across his back, embracing him as she tried to calm her breathing and they stayed like that for a while, basking in their post-sex haze as her fingers trailed over his back and through his hair.

She found herself not thinking of the Jedi Code, or of their agreement to speak of the consequences of their own actions tomorrow, but of her happiness. Of the way her stomach fluttered when his fingers twitched against her side or the way her whole body felt tingly with excitement.

He sighed contentedly when she placed a gentle kiss to his head, moving to look up at her and she swears she feels his heart hammer against her stomach when they make eye contact.

She brushes his hair off of his forehead, smiling down at him and shaking her head.

“Your hair is a mess.” She teased, bringing both hands up to rake her fingers through his hair, smoothing it down from its previous nest-looking mop.

He laughed a genuine, hearty laugh as he brought his hand up to his head, helping her fix his hair as a small blush dusted his face.

“You really know how to keep the mood going, don’t you?” He jested, smirking down at her teasingly.

Her smile grew, laughing lightly as she came to the conclusion that she really liked this side of Luke Skywalker.

Relaxed, smiley and even a little goofy. Willing to joke around with her and reciprocating her light-hearted teasing.

His usual seriousness was endearing, one of the things that she’d actually always found attractive about him. But now, watching his eyes crinkle and his smile grow as he shook his head down at her, a gentle chuckle rumbling in his chest; she decided that, yes. She could get used to this.

Their bodies were sweaty and sticking together, hair tousled and messy as they lay gazing at each other with stupid, love-sick grins. It was then that a new thought struck her.

She moved her head, twisting her face into a look of pondering, as if in thought. To sell her performance even more, she brought a finger up to tap on her chin as she hummed, feigning indecision.

After a moment, she widened her eyes, as if to say ‘ah, i know!’

“I think I know how to keep the mood going.” She teased, excited to keep their silly conversations going, desperate to see more of his goofy grin that she found herself enamoured by.

He played along, tilting his head in mock interest as he spoke.

“Oh yeah?” He offered, smirking at the little joke she was playing.

She nodded, a mischief-ridden smile stretching across her face as she looked down at him, loving the way his eyes sparkled with excitement. She raised her eyebrows suggestively as she spoke;

“Wanna join me in the refresher?”

#luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker fanfiction #Luke skywalker #mark hamill x reader #mark hamill fanfiction #mark hamill #fics #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars smut #luke skywalker smut #mark hamill smut #master x padawan #master luke skywalker #ao3

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thewritingfairy · 28 days ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ To protect a world

requested by: @bunbunboysworld

yandere batfam x jedi!gn!reader, one shot Trigger warnings: neglect, violence, shouting, crimes, if I missed anything pls do say so! main m.list

You don’t know why your family never cared for you, never loved you the way they love each other. But in the end it doesn’t matter, the day you accepted the offer to be trained as a Jedi you left them behind.

You left your attachments behind, you left behind who you once where to be reborn. To be reborn, but not to forget your past. Through your training you learned one thing, your anger is justified, your thoughts are justified and your dark side is not to be forgotten. Your dark side is not to be hidden, but you must not allow it to conquer you.

And you didn’t, Luke Skywalker guided you in ways you could never thank him enough for. You couldn’t thank any of them enough, but when you got the mission to be an ambassador at earth your heart sank. You didn’t want to go there, terrified that the dark would take over your heart. But with everyone’s reassurance you over came that fear, you went back to earth.

Wearing your Jedi uniform, wearing your lightsaber proudly.

Yet when you met the Justice League, you didn’t expect to be grabbed by Batman, you didn’t expect him to fall to your knees. For his children to come around, for them to look rigid and surprised. As if they know you, well knew you.

But as you look back at your life on earth you don’t remember anyone you were close with, you don’t remember anyone you trusted.

“My baby,” Batman whispers, tears rolling down his face barely visible under his cowl. “I’m never letting you go again.”

….It’s your father, it’s the man who treated you like nothing but dirt. Breath (Name) remember your training.

You step back, out of his embrace. “Sir, please be mindful of my space,” the Justice league stares at you two, stares at his children who seem frozen in shock. Stares at how they remember them talking about a missing sibling, and now they stand in front of them. “I’m here as an ambassador and temporary protector of Earth as our war wages, after that I will rejoin my fellow Jedi.”

Bruce Wayne, dressed as Batman, didn’t stop crying, but his stare became harsher. But he couldn’t say anything.

No but he thought,

He would be damned if he let’s you escape again. He’ll be damned if you disappear again, you are his child. You’re his baby, his child, and you will return home and stay home.

If he has to force you to stay home? He will, he’ll ensure you’ll never be able to leave again.

I've never written for Star wars before, I've interacted with the material, watched it ect. But I never have done anything fandom related, so this is a very vague piece and a bit shit ngl. And it's so short---

#☾ thewritingfairy #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #dc fanfic #yandere #male yandere #yandere batboys #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere father #yandere dad #yandere male

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vaderinthevoid · 2 months ago

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WORK

Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive but no smut, really.

“My darling please I do not have the time for this,” she says as his lips slowly trail down her neck lighting her insides on fire and sending a chill down her spine.

She struggles to breath when he slowly lifts her hair and starts to gently suck and lick at the back of her neck. Her body still unfortunately turned toward her desk which seems to be more and more how she’d spend her nights, instead of in his arms.

He missed her. So much more than he realized. How on earth did it only just occur to him that they had not spent a night together in months now? With the war surging onward everyday he knew there would be more times that they were apart than together. He and Ahsoka or Obi-Wan would be gone days to weeks at a time on missions, and, of course, she would remain mostly on Coruscant and occasionally surrounding systems.

She was a Senate Liaison for the Jedi Council; and truly a magnificent one, in Anakin’s opinion. A wise Jedi in her own right, she would often be found advising powerful senators on peacekeeping, discussing council matters with Masters Yoda and Windu, and occasionally partaking in more “aggressive negotiations” when things go south. Something he is proud to have taught her.

She cared a lot about her work, and the Jedi Order, but she loved Anakin so much. No longer having the strength to deny it after all this time.

She missed him deeply. Which is why, when he entered her apartments, his force signature filling her senses, she couldn’t bare the thought of not holding him close. The thought of not feeling the warmth of his skin on hers for so long had become such a tragedy all of a sudden.

She forgot herself entirely when she saw that devious smile on his face. Pure confidence in his gait. “I truly did not know it was possible,” he says approaching her desk.

“What’s that my darling?” She shot him an amused and quizzical look before returning to her data pad.

“Each time I see you I manage to find more ways to appreciate your beauty,” he says while coming to hug her from behind.

She turns around to look at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh Ani,” holding his face in her hands and softly kissing him, “how I love you.” Another kiss.

“It’s been so long, my love.” He whispers meeting her eyes, only inches from his own.

“I know. I know. I just need to get through this meeting with Senator Organa and I will return to you as soon as I am able.” She places her hands on his arms to release her and she attempts to guide him to the couch on the other side of the room.

Instead he turns her around and pushes her hips lightly into the edge of her desk.

“It has been so torturous to go without your touch for so long. How I have longed to fill you with all of me.” Her legs go shaky and her thighs can’t help but clench.

Now he was running his hands down her sides and wrapping his arms around her waist pulling her closer to him as if starved for the feel of his lover’s skin.

“My darling please I do not have the time for this,” she says as his lips slowly trail down her neck lighting her insides on fire and sending a chill down her spine.

“Then work and I can continue. Sit down.” She sits in her chair.

Next thing she knows he’s on his knees, lifting the skirts of her dress, spreading her legs wide so that the cool air of her apartment hits her in the best ways.

“Do not make me late General.” She commands.

“Work,” and with that he dives in.

#anakin skywalker #revenge of the sith #darth vader #star wars #star wars anakin #kenobi series #swedit #anakin #anakin and obi wan #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin imagine #anakinskywalkeredit #clone wars anakin #clone wars anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #general anakin skywalker x reader

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deathofacupid · 1 year ago

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dude (blurb) | jake peralta

summary: "dude" but romantically.

warnings: none.

pairing: fem!reader x jake peralta (friends to lovers)

word count: 0.8k+ words

"okay, but i'm serious! you have to try it, it's literally amazing."

"i was gonna take your word for it, but i remembered it's you... so, no."

"dude," he whined, a soft smile adorning his lips.

"dude," you say back, same tone.

"fine, fine, what if i make you one? that's, like, no work required. y'know minus chewing."

"jacob jeffrey peralta, i am not, not even on my deathbed, trying pickles with ice cream. that's just a new level of gross."

"but charles approved it!"

"why on earth would that affect whether or not i try it?"

"y'know, i have no clue. i'm getting desperate."

"i can see that."

"dudeeee," he kicks his feet on the floor as he's sitting next to you on the couch. die hard is playing on the tv in his apartment, but the two of you have seen it so many times, you practically have it memorized by heart.

and why would you ever watch die hard when jake's sitting right there?

between you and yourself, you know which you'd rather watch. okay, "watch" sounded creepy.

you're laying on his lap as he's looking down at you, pouting.

you roll your eyes, but it's all fun. "dudeeee."

truth be told, you're sure you can handle the odd food combo, but teasing him and drawing this out is so much more fun. god, you really are in love with him.

"pretty, pretty, please? with- with, like, seven cherries on top?"

"just seven?" you pretend to be offended.

"i'm a brokie, the best i can do is eight." jake runs a hand through your hair, it's so comforting.

you sigh, "all right."

"to the cherries or the pream?"

"the- the what now?"

"pickles. ice cream. pickles and ice cream. pream? yeah, you know what, that's... that's not it. doesn't roll of the tongue great."

"oh, yeah. that, and it sounds like an std."

"good point. i'm gonna assume you meant the... cream... pi... creampi-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there."

he nods quickly. "right. what about cream-"

"not if it starts with 'cream', dude."

"icickles?"

"n-"

"piccream!"

"if i try your 'dish'," you air quote, "will you stop trying to come up with names."

"maybe."

you give him a look, and he amends, "yes. maybe. i pledge to do my best." jake salutes you, then pokes your check. you scowl, swatting him away and sitting up.

"lead me to your kitchen."

"sure. it's five steps that-a-way," he says, pointing to the kitchen that is quite exactly five steps away. like a true gentleman, jake scoops you - through which you protest ("dude!") - and then (after six steps, actually [wow, his apartment is slightly bigger than hypothesized]) sets you on the counter.

"i feel like you should know that i'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."

"but why would you when i'm here?"

"dude."

"dude," he replies, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer.

"how are you even supposed to eat this? like... spread it? o-or dip?"

jake grabs a spoon and scoops some ice cream onto it. "watch, young jedi."

"i don't-"

"shh, i'm yoda-ing." he spreads it on the pickle and shoves it in your face. slowly, you sniff it. it doesn't smell... like anything bad, really.

it doesn't look great though. "is it too late to go back?"

"yes." after a second, he groans, "gah, i'll go first." he takes a bite, and you make a face.

"mmm... you shouf knodis is-"

"jake, swallow."

he grins and you furrow your brows. "what- oh. oh! jake!" your cheeks heat up so quickly, for a number of reason. because, yeah, obviously the second one sounds better.

also, of course that's what he instantly goes to.

"oh, my god. are you twelve or thirty-three? because i honestly can't tell."

"dude, i'm well-versed. you wouldn't understand."

"i'm... twenty-five. wo-wouldn't i-?"

"schematics."

"yeah, okay, bud."

"dude," he corrects.

"right," you murmur, "dude."

you don't really realize how he's leaning in, the way if you do too, your lips would touch. you falter, and you can feel warm breath minglingwith yours.

jake cups your cheek and you lean into it. you aren't sure what's about to happen, though it should be obvious. but with jake, you're nervous, afraid that this isn't really happening.

you have no clue what he's done with the pickle, and you have no clue why that's what's on your mind right now.

he squeezes your waist gently, a way of asking for permission. you nod, and at first, it's just a brush. just a brush of his lips against yours, feeling for some type of sense that this is happening. that it's reality.

you press back against him, your hand on top of his, the one on your face. your other hand blindly feels for his hair, tugging against his soft, brown curls.

when you pull away, you're breathing hard. not because of the kiss, because it wasn't aggressive or any longer than twenty seconds, but because of the adrenaline of it all.

"dude," he breathes, and you giggle.

"y'taste like pickles. and ice cream. it's actually not that bad," you admit. "at least not on you."

"dude," jake repeats, dumb-founded at what just happened.

you peck him again, right on the lips, "dude."

#b99 #brookyln nine nine #jake peralta #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x you #jake peralta x y/n #jake peralta oneshot #fluff #jake peralta fluff

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padmesweetheart · 2 months ago

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Master of walking?

Pairings: Anakin Skywalker x Girlfriend reader

Warnings: Clumsy Anakin

It was supposed to be a simple task. A peaceful walk through the gardens of the Jedi Temple, a moment of quiet. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the peaceful grounds, and you thought maybe, just maybe, today would be the day you’d enjoy the calm serenity of the temple.

That is, until you heard it.

“Ow!”

You turned just in time to see Anakin —your usually graceful, heroic, and extremely talented Jedi boyfriend—trip over his own feet and fall face-first into a flower bed.

You blinked.

“Anakin?”

He groaned from the ground, his arms flailing dramatically as he attempted to push himself upright. “I’m fine, I’m fine! I meant to do that!”

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. Anakin slowly stood up, his face covered in petals, trying to brush himself off, but only managing to get dirt on his tunic.

“It’s not funny,” he muttered, wiping the flowers off his shoulders. “I’m perfectly coordinated, I swear.”

You chuckled, offering him a hand to help him up. “Are you sure? Because I just saw you trip over a nonexistent rock.”

“I didn’t trip! I was—uh, performing a very advanced Jedi maneuver.” He tried to stand up with a flourish, only to stumble again, this time directly into a nearby fountain.

“Anakin!” you exclaimed, rushing over as he flailed in the water.

He splashed around like a panicking Bantha. “I… I can explain! I’m… I’m doing a… water meditation! Yes, yes, very… focused!”

You held back another laugh as you pulled him out of the fountain, soaking wet and grinning sheepishly. “Water meditation, huh? I think you’ve invented a new form of self-sabotage meditation.”

Anakin wiped his face, dripping water everywhere, and sighed dramatically. “I’m cursed. The Force has it out for me.”

“No, you’re just incredibly clumsy,” you teased. “But don’t worry, I’m here to help. Maybe we should stick to something less dangerous… like walking.”

“Hey!” he protested. “I’ll have you know I’m a master at walking!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Master? Anakin, you’ve tripped over air three times in the past five minutes.”

Anakin grinned, dripping wet and completely unbothered. “Well, maybe that proves my mastery. The Force works in mysterious ways, after all.”

You shook your head, still chuckling. “You’re something else, Skywalker.”

“And that’s why you love me,” he said, flashing a playful smile.

“Mm, that’s debatable,” you replied, ruffling his damp hair as you walked him toward the temple entrance. “But today, I’ll admit, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Anakin smiled brightly, despite his soggy state. “See? It’s all part of my charm.”

And as he stumbled once again (this time intentionally for dramatic effect), you couldn’t help but laugh, thinking to yourself, What on Earth did I get myself into with this guy?

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker drabble #hayden christensen imagines #as imagines

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lilolilyr · 5 months ago

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~ Lilo's 2024 Star Wars recs ~ (another Ao3 year in review)

This is specifically the star wars edition of my reader year in review, the rest & more info can be found here!

Descriptions/summaries by me, click the links for the ones from the authors.

The Good Sith by sonnyrain - Obi-Wan Kenobi and all of the Vod'e time travel and end up on a Sith planet. Obi-Wan, now 'Aranar', turns to the dark side, swearing to protect his men no matter the cost. Over a million words, lots of plot and character developments, fix-everything, still ongoing as of mid last year but you can read the first part(s) on their own.

I love this fic a ridiculous amount, I read several parts at least twice, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Like, when I think up my plotless little fluff piece fix everything bedtime stories I think up to fall asleep (and sometimes when something's good have to forego sleep to write down immediately because I know I won't remember fuckall come morning), I think of the versions of the characters from that 'verse just as often as I think of canon star wars characters or ones from any other fics. It fits into my headcanon 'verse really well because I always work with multiverse settings, and I love the kid characters especially little Sithling Aurek and his twin Soul.

Knives and Spices by argentee, mikaiyawa and others: A whole group of humans from earth is kidnapped into the Star Wars world, and separate fics follow separate characters. One becomes Mandalorian, one a pop star, yet another befriends some pirates and travels to lands we've never seen in canon. 280k, ratings and warnings vary, series still ongoing, parts can be read separately

I love and adore all kinds of self insert stories but this one is just extra levels of amazing - it's basically humans are space orcs meets Star Wars, and humans are all a bit force sensitive - the ending of the series summary describes it perfectly: "how much trouble can a few humans cause? All of it. All the trouble." and I love it all to bits!

Like a Tree by the River by @bairnsidhe - at Galidraan, Komari has a vision of the canon future and decides that she'd rather leave the Jedi behind than be a part of that massacre. Somehow, this ends with her and Dooku being adopted by mandalorians, and her in turn kind of adopting teenaged Obi-Wan at Melida/Daan? 20k T

Idk, this isn't even such a long one and I mean all of BairnSidhe's works I've read are great but somehow specifically this one with Dooku being the 'a bit old' ad and Komari therefore the bu'ad of a random coruscanti Mandalorian just stuck with me and I sometimes randomly think of Dooku being all confused and have to smile xD the plot&writing is also really good!

How a Romance Novel Saved the Galaxy by @arianaderalte: The mandos get their hands on a novel that describes a romance between mandalorians and jedi, and just how perfect jedi really are as partners for mandalorians... This changes things when both groups interact irl. 200k, rated T, Violence

This series has Everything. Jedi, Mandalorians, action, relationships, all kinds of queerness, and excerpts from a romance novel about the ancient Sith wars. Honestly, this fic just couldn't be better! I binge-read through it in one go even though I should have done a million other things at the time and I didn't regret it one bit xD

All the Amavikka stories: the slaves on Tatooine have a separate secret culture with language, myths and names, and Anakin, coming from this culture, reacts to Palpatine being his newest slave master

I think this idea of Tatooine slave culture and of Anakin's characterization is so interesting and I love reading it, from long Double Agent Vader by @fialleril, which I think is the original fic creating the Ekkreth lore, over the ongoing series Biting His Own Tale by @adragonsfriend, to the short story I can't find anymore about depur erecting a tower, a song-fic to Babylon by Dirt Poor Robin and the reason for my obsession with that band - please, if anyone has a link, send it my way! - and all other fics, I love this trope so much!

I think Ekkreth Skywalker was one of the first trope rabbit holes I stumbled into when I got really into Star Wars longfics in the middle of 2024, and I'm always excited to see references to it in fics mainly about other characters as well, like Breaking Chains by @jehanneargentee, and I went back to (re)reading fics about the trope on purpose several times as well :)

The last fic leads neatly into the next trope I really loved this year, Time Travel stories, more specifically Obi-Wan Kenobi time travelling and meeting mandalorians :D

I don't really have more specific stories for this one, I read so so so many of them that they just blur together in my mind. I marked a couple with the Ao3 rec function so I assume I liked those especially much, but going through them now I still don't really remember much, but I do recognize a couple fic author names as authors I read many good fics from, Ariel_Sojourner AppoApples @batshieroglyphics @roosjem LeeTheHobbit @triscribe cjwritesfanficnow @laurabwrites y'all's are awesome! Everyone, go check out all their fics!

I do also read and enjoy stories where people other than Obi-Wan travel through time, one that really stuck with me is In Good Time by morwen_of_gondor, about the Mandalorian trainers Kal Skirata and Walon Vau time travelling back to their time on Kamino.

All the fluffy h/c, fix-it, everyone lives, no order 66 Clone Wars fics! Pro-jedi, pro-clones, anti-sith (which sometimes includes Anakin, sometimes not), usually focusing on the 212th.

I never watched the series and it's been ages since I watched Attack of the Clones, but somehow, probably on the time travel -> Obi-Wan fics -> General Kenobi pipeline, I ended up reading a loooot of clone wars (fix it) fic, specifically lots and lots of Codywan!

You know that lovely feeling of getting into a new fandom without having any preconceived notions or otps or anything, so you can read All The Fic without any ships or bashing squicking you out? Yeah, that was me in Star Wars several months ago, cursed be the Codywan that got to me xD I can barely read time travel fics anymore without mourning the existence of the Vod'e because changing the past usually means they won't be created (unless they're the ones time travelling of course. Love those fics) and where I used to read just about anyone x Obi-Wan (and also anyone x anybody else lmao), I'm not pretty exclusively into Codywan... That being said, there's a reason for that, and that's the amount of amazing fics for that ship that I came across!

Again, I don't have specific fics that I remember because I just read so many one after the other... I guess I'll have to re-read them all. Which is great actually because me not remembering them much means I can reread them basically for the first time! I did mark some as rec but looking through them now I think they're not mainly recced for the codywan... My shippy bookmark tag might give a better overview.

Another ship I got into was clone troopers Waxer x Boil, I like the thought of the Vod'e being a society of to outsiders identical looking but to each other separate people who only see their immediate batchmates as siblings (which would also psychologically make a lot more sense), and these two are just super cute.

One of the first Waxer/Boil fics I read is also Codywan and it's one of these clones&Obi-Wan time travel fics I like so much :D The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Saving the Galaxy by Accident by @antigrav-vector and @quarra, it also has some Dooku/Sifo-Dyas which is another ship I really like.

Another one I still want to continue reading is RCAU: Open Skies mainly by @cacodaemonia, what I've seen of it so far is great and the story is So Long (almost 900k, a honestly daunting wordcount and probably what made me procrastinate continuing it, but also Awesome because So Much Fic), it's cute and shippy and no order 66 but also has plot and interesting characters and ocs and I just love it <3

Also similar but less ship centric, I absolutely love all the fics where Fox gets to kill Palpatine. Just, best trope ever. The Corrie Guard deserves a little Sith Murder. As a treat.

Jaster Mereel and his haat'ade (True Mandalorians), there are a bunch of really good ones where they rescue Obi-Wan and the Young from Melidaan, but also in general all the Jaster fics are great!

While I'm very anti guns irl I just love the fictional Mandalorian culture xD with their cool armor and their codex and the language (per my last count I know 90 words of Mando'a just from fic reading osmosis, send me an ask if you want a list lmao), the vibrant culture created by it being a creed, not one species... and Jaster is just my favorite Mando'ad ever, maybe because he doesn't have much canon attached so fanon just went wild? xD there are also a bunch of jedi shippy fics with him and Dooku sometimes in ot3 with Sifo-Dyas, or him and Jon Antilles like the wonderful 100k wip trade your heart for bones to know by @blackkatmagic, and I think there was one with time travelling adult Obi-Wan as well - edit: yes several, by @roosjem @cjwritesfanficnow @batshieroglyphics <3

Skywalker Family Values by Ariel_Sojourner: Sith-son Luke and senator daughter Leia end up in the same summer camp, it ends in a destruction of the speciist camp, a rebellious theatre performance and the reintroduction of their parents... Aka the parent trap/ Doppelte Lottchen AU that is still somehow perfectly in tune with the Star Wars world! 55k, T for violence.

Can't forget the fic that actually got me into Star Wars! At least I'm pretty sure this is the one? I think there was a tumblr post talking about crackfic ideas for a parent trap AU, and I went looking and found this one, which is actually 100% serious and such a good read. I actually made my mom read it as well xD Das Doppelte Lottchen (German original parent trap book from 1949) was one of our favs for her to read to me when I was a kid, and my mom is always looking for new reading material and as I'm mainly reading fanfic, I'm always happy to find fic she'll also like.

And, because I turn everything into a tag meme, maybe some of you also want to show your appreciation for the writers who got us through the last year - everyone who sees this, feel free to make your own post (if it's just Star wars fic I guess you can reblog-add to this one, but otherwise seriously make your own post)! and remember to leave your authors some comments especially if they can't be @-ed on tumblr :) tagging all the authors already tagged above and everyone else who sees this!

here's my 2024 rec list for other fandoms

more of my fic recs • my writing • my Star Wars • Star Wars fic recs

#ao3 wrapped #a fic writer's tumblr account #lilo writes fic recs #lilo reads #jan'24 #my post #mine #long post #star wars fic rec #star wars fic recs #star wars #codywan #obi wan kenobi #Commander cody #jaster mereel #amavikka #star wars time travel #mandalorians #clone wars

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yandere-wishes · 11 months ago

Text

⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

ᯓ♡ : @feedmestraycats @moonlovefairy @wicked0clouds @phoenixes-and-wizards @peridedarling @morax-on-my-mind @magikmaik @lov4gor3 @manchuria @bucksdonkey @embersofimagination @hauntedhedgehogs @peter-laufeyson @papitas-con-sal @f0odie @boredtone @bluechissbrain @yourfilthydevil @n0t-skywalker @xsister-serpent @gabriqllas @zionysuss @i-love-my-babygirls @pagingoswin @jxp1ter @faebirdie @deezhutts565 @thesithdiaries @pagingoswin @hauntingwolf @scentedbanditlampwobbler @uwingdispatch @mask-knife-is-buggys-girl @lunarsvertigo @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @penny44224 @suburbanlegendzzzz @jihyos-wifey @reylo-imperium @ladyofyourdreams @sassybananaweaselpsychic @96jnie @@jxp1ter @sunnymoonxx @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @smutmaniac @alena1100 @marice23top @ohdearmaggie @strawberrycat69

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devieuls · 9 months ago

Text

ˋ Haunted .✵

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.9k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

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Chapter I: The Abyss of Temptation

(The shuttle landed silently on the verdant surface of the planet Khofar, a wild jewel among the worlds of the Outer Rim Territories. As the hatch opened, a wave of humidity enveloped the Jedi, carrying with it the intense scent of damp earth and the exotic fragrance of the lush vegetation. The forest stretched out before them like an endless sea of green, where the trees rose like ancient towers, their massive trunks covered in layers of gleaming moss. The thick, intertwined canopies above them created a natural roof, allowing only faint rays of light to filter through, speckling the ground with golden patches. Khofar was a living, wild planet, and they were only temporary visitors, intruders in an ancient and balanced ecosystem. Every rustle among the leaves, every distant call, was a warning. A premonition or prelude to what the day would bring.)

If only you had known in advance that your teammates would die one by one before your eyes as you returned from the hut where Jedi Master Kelnacca lived, you would have thought twice before agreeing to the mission. You had fought against the Sith who killed your friends, battling with anger and bitterness, in a grief too fresh to fully comprehend. In the end, the pain of your body hitting the hard ground was nothing compared to the searing agony in your side from a nearly fatal wound. Your vision began to blur, and you could only see footsteps approaching before everything faded to black.

You awoke slowly, as if emerging from a hibernation that had lasted for years. Your eyes opened with difficulty, greeted by a nearly suffocating gloom. The dim light of a few torches was the only source of illumination within what seemed to be a cave. The rocky walls, uneven and cold, seemed to loom over you. You felt weak, every movement was a struggle, and a dull pain throbbed in your side. You tried to sit up, but your injured side forced you back down, a hiss of pain escaping your lips. You brought a trembling hand to the wound and felt the rough texture of the bandages wrapped around the torn flesh. Despite the agony, the wound had apparently been cleaned and treated with care. Someone had taken the time to tend to it, to ensure it would heal, though it was still far from being fully recovered. You looked around, trying to piece together fragments of memory that crowded your mind. You remembered your friends' deaths, Sol screaming, your lightsaber changing color, and a battle. You recalled the fierce confrontation with the Sith, your fall, and the darkness that enveloped you. But beyond that, nothing. You had no idea how you had ended up in that cave, nor who had brought you there.

Your heart raced, panic beginning to seep into your thoughts. Were you a prisoner? And if so, who had shown such mercy to tend to your wounds? The most unsettling question was the most obvious: why hadn't the Sith eliminated you when he had the chance? A shadowy thought slithered into your mind, and the face of the Sith echoed in the depths of your being. The idea that he might have been the one to save you, to care for you, was as chilling as it was improbable. Yet, you couldn’t shake the possibility from your mind, no matter how absurd it seemed.

You dragged yourself out with great effort, and through the blinding light, you saw the silhouette of a man, barely identifiable. You followed him stealthily, still holding your side and trying to endure the pain from the wound. For a moment, you lost sight of him, only to find him again shortly after, immersed in a pool of water in what seemed to be a coastal area with black sand you couldn’t identify. Your eyes fell on the figure facing away from you, submerged in the water, his muscles relaxed, his raven hair wet and slicked back. To your eyes, the man seemed completely unaware of your presence, though he appeared to have a vigilant awareness of the surrounding area. You moved silently among the rocks and vegetation, observing your target until your gaze fell upon a pile of clothes near the shore, where the deactivated lightsaber lay. With swift and somewhat precise movements, you approached the lightsaber. Tension mounted inside you as you crouched to pick it up, aware that any sound could betray your presence. You grasped the metallic object and assumed an attack position as the man began to speak, still with his back turned while he calmly washed himself.

"how does it feel?" he said, turning towards you. You recognized him immediately. The mere sight of his face sparked rage within you. "Pleasant, don't you think?" His tone was a piercing screech to your ears. You gritted your teeth, not responding, remaining in your attack stance. "Your stance is good despite the wound on your side, but your elbows are a real mess. I had my doubts when we fought last time, and now I see why it was so easy to defeat you. Your elbows are too low; you should keep one higher, you know?" he continued, observing you. "…To block more quickly and strike with more precision." He took a brief pause. "Since you don’t know how to use the Force, you should learn to block better," he concluded, stepping out of the water, now only a few steps away from you.

"Don’t move," your stance changed, now aiming the off lightsaber directly at him. Your gaze was sharp and cold. "If you don’t want to join me, at least let me put my clothes on" he said. You took a slight step back, allowing him to exit the water. You swallowed, trying not to let your gaze fall on the naked, wet defined body of the man, keeping in your mind that he was your enemy. You began to ponder whether it was appropriate to attack him now. But it was neither Jedi-like to strike a defenseless man nor to act in such a dishonorable manner. "Surely, you’re wondering if it’s honorable to kill me like this," he began, his tone different from the one used in battle. You swallowed. Your gaze fell for a second on his chest, and you cursed yourself for the terrible idea. "In battle it’s justified, but days later isn’t it revenge?" he asked with a sarcastic tone, as if he already knew the answer. "And now you wonder if I can read your mind… and the answer is… no. Anger betrays your thoughts" he continued, dressing himself as if you weren’t pointing a weapon at him. His gaze seemed oddly gentle, more delicate, almost innocent. So much so that he almost didn’t seem like the same man who had killed seven Jedi just a few nights before.

"Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you kill me?" you asked, watching him sternly, uncertain of what to do next. "Am I your prisoner?" "Prisoner? You’re the one with a weapon" he said with an overly calm look and an obvious tone in his voice, as he walked back towards the cave, passing by you without fear. You followed him, teeth clenched. You wanted revenge on this man, but what a miserable person you would be to strike him from behind while he was unarmed. "If you keep me here, Sol will come for you. He’s found me before, and he’s powerful with the Force." Your voice sounded threatening, though not as forceful as you’d hoped due to the stabbing pain in your side. The man turned and looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Do you think he’s powerful with the Force? It’s you who’s powerful with the Force, y/n. Someone should teach you," he said. You were stunned for a few seconds, as he knew your name. To you, he was a stranger, but you didn’t seem to be as unknown to him. The stranger walked back into the cave, and you followed him, confused. "In what way am I powerful with the Force? You should know it’s something to be practiced. If you don’t train it, it fades" you said, your voice still sharp as you scrutinized the man who seemed so at ease in your presence. You had long abandoned being a Jedi, retreating shortly after becoming officially part of the Order. If it hadn’t been for your sister leaving a trail of blood wherever she went, you would have stayed far away from that world. You had lost every Force ability, not having practiced it for many years. You vaguely remembered how to use a lightsaber, thanks to Sol, who had helped you recall the skills during the time you spent together, training with his young Padawan Jecki.

The stranger was seated next to what appeared to be a small campfire, while you kept your distance. He tasted the food he was cooking. You didn’t trust him; something about him made you suspicious, aside from the fact that he had decimated your team. "You know… The Jedi teach that there’s only one way to access the Force, and if you don’t do it their way, it fades. But there’s another way," he said gently, turning his gaze toward you. "Beneath the surface of consciousness, there are powerful emotions." "Anger. Fear. Loss…" he slowly mentioned the emotions you had learned to suppress, as you had been taught in the Order during your time as a Jedi Padawan. "…desire." The last emotion was spoken almost in a whisper as he took on a more serious and penetrating expression. You swallowed, observing him with disdain, though you subconsciously held your breath as he listed the emotions. "That’s the path to the dark side," the words came out acridly from your mouth.

The man’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a mocking smile. "semantics… You Jedi are so closed-minded," he replied, turning back to the fire, stirring the stew he was cooking. "The light side isn’t the only way to access the Force. The dark side… amplifies emotions. It’s just another way to access the Force. A way… to freedom." His convincing tone almost seemed reasonable, though it was contrary to your way of thinking. "You killed my friends," your gaze grew even sharper and more bitter, as your hand still gripped the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber, seeking comfort in the familiar cold metal. The Sith’s words were like poison seeping into your mind, exploiting the insecurities you had always tried to suppress. "Friends? That’s what you call people who come to seek you only in moments of need and then ignore your existence?" His voice was laced with a mix of disdain and feigned compassion. Every word from this man was a blade sinking into your soul, touching raw nerves you had tried to ignore. You had been trained to combat fear, anger, desire—all emotions that, if left unchecked, could lead you down the dark path. But at that moment, you felt the internal storm growing, fueled by suffering and loss, a mourning.

"War isn’t pretty, y/n, sometimes…" he began, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he stood up, beginning to walk toward you with determined steps, never breaking eye contact. "Sacrifices must be made for a greater good." He stopped just inches from you, his penetrating gaze studying you with a mix of cynicism and desire, as if challenging you to contradict him. Every fiber of his being radiated an irresistible force, a magnetism that seemed to envelop him like a shadow. He leaned slightly toward you, his warm breath brushing against your skin as his lips dangerously neared your ear. "Your friends," he whispered with a cold, almost contemptuous tone, "were just collateral damage." His words were like sharp knives—cutting and relentless—but the seductive tone with which he spoke betrayed an unsettling intimacy, as if he were confiding a dark secret that only you could understand.

The stranger leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes, deep as an abyss, stared at you with an intensity that seemed to penetrate directly into your soul. His face was close, too close, and his expression was serious, almost sorrowful, but there was no trace of remorse—only a dark understanding. "Why do you love people who can only go so far?" His voice dropped further, becoming a near-confidential whisper. "Who can’t go as deep as you can?" His gaze was intense, his eyes locked onto yours with an expression that seemed to reveal far more than his words had. There was a hidden desire, a need struggling to surface, but the man skillfully masked it, maintaining a subtle balance between cynicism and seduction.

You held your breath, feeling the weight of his words and his proximity. You knew that behind those words lay a darkness trying to corrupt you, but his allure was dangerously real. Your mind was conflicted, torn between repulsion at the Sith’s cynicism and the irresistible magnetism surrounding him. The man gave you a slight smile, a smile that never quite reached his eyes, as he pulled back just a few centimeters, leaving you teetering between temptation and inner struggle. "Maybe, y/n," he added in a mellifluous voice, "you’re destined for something more… something greater… something that I can show you." "I’m not my sister. I’m not so easily corrupted," you said, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain control over yourself. Every fiber of your being struggled to suppress the tumultuous emotions the stranger had tried to awaken in you. Your heart pounded loudly, betraying you, but your face remained impassive, covered by a studied veil of disgust. With a slow, deliberate motion, you took a step back, putting distance between you, your gaze charged with superiority and defiance.

Qimir observed you with an impassive expression, but behind his dark eyes was growing interest, a sort of admiration for your resilience. To him, you were not like the other Jedi he had encountered, too weak or easily swayed. In you, he saw a potential acolyte, someone with an inner strength that could be nurtured and guided toward an even greater power. A subtle smile appeared on his lips, a nearly imperceptible curve that betrayed his pleasure at seeing you so determined. "You’re not like your sister, that’s true," he admitted with a tone that seemed both a compliment and a challenge. He took a step toward you, closing the space between you once more, but this time with an even more calculated calm, like a hunter who knows its prey. "But don’t mistake your determination for invulnerability," he continued, his voice soft and sharp as a blade. "The force you suppress within you, the force you’ve learned to stifle, is what could make you great—much greater than the Jedi could ever imagine. I see in you a potential that goes beyond the limitations of their dogma, and that is what frightens them." He stopped just a few steps from you, his gaze locked on yours, trying to pierce through the mask you had erected. "I’m not here to corrupt you," he whispered, his voice almost persuasive. "I’m here to offer you a choice, a path that the Jedi have always denied you. A road to a freedom you don’t yet know." You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to show any weakness to him.

"I don’t need your freedom," you replied coldly, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil. "Your whispers don’t touch me. I know who I am and what I represent." "So sure of yourself" he murmured, with a tone that seemed to appreciate your determination. "But what do you truly represent, y/n? A Jedi struggling against her own nature, stifling the potential that could make her truly powerful? Oh… perhaps I should say, ex-Jedi?" he asked with ironic amusement, towering over your figure. You clenched your teeth, pointing the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber at his stomach.

He tilted his head slightly, amused, his gaze growing more penetrating as he sought to reach that part of you he knew existed—the part that thirsted for knowledge, power, something more. “You feel the Force, you perceive it in ways that even the Jedi cannot understand. And you know there is a greater, deeper power calling you. It is not betrayal to explore that possibility. It is… evolution.” His words, spoken with such conviction, seemed to echo in the cave, breaking through the barriers you had erected to protect yourself. You raised your lightsaber to meet the man's neck. “Do it… light it” he ordered, his tone of challenge making your blood boil. The Sith, on the other hand, seemed delighted by your anger, his sharp and contemptuous smile only fueling the tension. Qimir merely tilted his head slightly to the side, offering his neck completely to you, his penetrating gaze fixed on the lightsaber you pointed at him, waiting for the moment you would decide to ignite it.

“A Jedi… does not attack the unarmed" you said through gritted teeth, your voice a murmur of frustration and determination. Your mind was a tumult of emotions, but your will to remain true to your principles was steadfast. “Do you still think you’re a Jedi?” he asked, his voice low and enveloping, almost hypnotic. “Don’t you remember how your lightsaber changed color the last time? Do you still believe you must adhere to a code you’re questioning within yourself?” Those words hit like a punch to the stomach, evoking images you would have preferred to forget. The blade of your lightsaber, once glowing a pure blue, had trembled, taking on red hues like those of the man before you. You took a step back, your heart racing, desperately trying to put space between you and that voice which seemed to read into you with ruthless precision. But the man gave you no respite. His hand moved with surprising speed, gripping your arm in a gentle yet firm hold. His fingers closed around your wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from withdrawing the saber from his neck. The contrast between the contained strength of his touch and the relaxed calm of his face left you breathless.

His penetrating gaze was fixed on your eyes, a subtle yet relentless challenge. “You know yourself that after what’s happened you couldn’t return to the Jedi even if you wanted to,” he whispered, his tone charming and confident, as if he had already won this silent battle. “Sol has seen it, don’t believe that after succumbing to rage and revenge you can return to a position that no longer belongs to you.” You felt trapped, not so much by his hand holding you but by the words resonating inside you. His words seemed to challenge every certainty you had until that moment. Every fiber of your being wanted to reject him, but there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made you doubt, even if just for a moment. Qimir moved closer, his warm breath against your skin, each movement calculated with lethal precision. “It’s not a matter of principles, y/n,” he continued, his tone now almost seductive. “That pain, that anger… this is what you are.” Your breath grew irregular, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain control. “Let me go.” you threatened, your voice a low growl, but you knew there was a shadow of hesitation you couldn’t hide.

“Sol saw it… the Jedi saw it” he continued, his tone now softer but laden with cruel truth. “And for that, they will throw you away, again.” His piercing gaze cut into you, as your eyes took on an expression of anger and fear at his words. You felt his words like a sharp blade piercing through your defenses, and your gaze hardened, but you couldn’t hide the flicker of fear in your eyes. The fear that, deep down, he might be right. The fear that your Order, those you would give your life to protect, might indeed see you as a threat, something to be eliminated. The Sith sensed that shift within you, and his gaze became even more penetrating, probing every corner of your mind. It was as if he could see every weakness, every hidden thought, and he used them with a terrifying skill. “You can’t hide from what you are, y/n. The dark side isn’t a weakness… it’s your strength. And you know it.” You gritted your teeth, disgust and anger mixing into an explosive blend that pushed you closer to the edge. He seemed to know exactly which buttons to press; every word, every look was a sharp blade striking at your raw nerves. The tension inside you grew, turning into a knot that threatened to snap. Until you could no longer hold it back, and it was in that moment that you ignited the lightsaber, the glowing blade just a breath away from his neck. “It won’t be like that,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, desperately trying to stay calm, though your eyes betrayed the mask of confidence you wore. “I will not succumb to the dark side.”

The man remained still, his mocking smile slowly widening as his eyes stayed fixed on yours, as if he were looking through you, reading every hidden thought. He swallowed slowly, a gesture that seemed almost like an invitation, a further provocation. The blade of your saber illuminated his face, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes, only a cold calm. “It’s not something you have to give in to… it’s inside you,” he said with that velvety voice of his, each word a whisper insinuating doubt into your certainties. His words struck you like a blow to the heart, breaking that fragile barrier you were desperately trying to maintain. “Your potential is immense,” he continued, lowering his voice to a warm, almost intimate whisper. Your gaze grew sharper as the subtle poison in his words sought to seep into your consciousness. The lightsaber blade barely touched his skin without making contact, his calm expression only annoying you. It was as if the threat had no effect on him, as if he knew you would never have the courage to go through with it. Every movement he made was slow, deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge, playing with your emotions like a master puppeteer. Anger bubbled within you, a fire growing ever stronger, fueled by his words, his confident smile, the way he seemed to control everything. You couldn’t deny it; there was a part of you that wanted to give in, that wanted to let go of the anger, the pain that burned so intensely. And he knew it; you could feel it in his voice, see it in his eyes.

“I understand…” His voice was a seductive whisper, just above a breath, as his hand rose with studied slowness, approaching yours without ever touching it. His eyes, which had been filled with impenetrable confidence until now, took on a new light, something deeper, almost vulnerable. “I’ve lost everything, y/n…” His gaze now seemed sincere, almost pleading for some strange reason. “But when you lose everything,” he continued, his hand now resting on yours, which still gripped the cold lightsaber handle. The contact was surprisingly gentle, a light pressure, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His grip was soft but firm, and the contrast between his words and the apparent gentleness of the gesture made you waver. “That’s when you’re truly free,” he concluded, his voice a whisper carrying an inescapable weight, an invitation to surrender, to let go of everything that still bound you to the light. His gaze locked onto your eyes, deep, almost pleading, but not for pity: for understanding, for sharing. It was as if he wanted you to see the world through his eyes, to understand that the dark side wasn’t a condemnation but a liberation. His words struck you forcefully, penetrating your defenses once again with lethal precision. It wasn’t just a mental game; there was something genuine in the pain that lingered in his voice, a shadow of loneliness that echoed your own torment. And in that moment, the Sith you had seen as an implacable enemy became a figure that seemed to understand your suffering, your anger.

“The anger you feel, the pain that consumes you… you don’t have to fight it,” he continued, his tone calm and inviting. The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating. You felt the dark side’s pull toward him, the promise of freedom shining like an irresistible temptation. But there was something more in that man, something human, making it harder to you to ignore. The sincerity in his gaze, his voice dropping to an almost intimate whisper, made you doubt your certainties. His hand, warm against yours, made you feel dangerously close to an abyss you weren’t sure you wanted to avoid. You remained still, analyzing his words in your mind. The lightsaber still tightly gripped in your hand, your teeth clenched as you swallowed before sighing, thinking about what you should do. You deactivated the lightsaber and stepped away from him, pressing the hilt of the now-deactivated saber against his chest. You wouldn’t be deceived by his seductive words. You knew who you were and what you fought for. But, inside, a small part couldn’t help but wonder: what if he was right?

“You don’t know me to tell me these things. And as I’ve said, I’m not corruptible like my sister,” You hissed, your voice charged with a tension the man couldn’t help but appreciate. He let his smile spread slowly across his face, watching with almost amused interest as you deactivated the lightsaber and then pressed the hilt against his chest. The determination in your eyes, the resolve in your gesture, fascinated him. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but there was something in you, an inner strength, a resilience that intrigued him deeply. He could see the internal struggle you were facing, the conflict between the Jedi code and the emotions he had deliberately stirred.

The Sith, with a slow and measured gesture, placed the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber on a nearby rock. The smile on his face shifted into a smirk of satisfaction. “Perhaps I know you better than you think,” he admitted, his voice soft and filled with an intensity that echoed in the silence of the cave, where only the crackling of the fire could be heard. “I see who you are… who you could be. Your strength, your will…” His steps continued to close the distance between you, and you took a step back, trying to maintain the space between you. He gently took your wrist and pulled you slightly towards him, towering over your smaller figure. He looked at you with what might have seemed like admiration or… desire. You held your breath, swallowing, paralyzed by what could be the gentlest yet most dangerous of predators. The man brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you reduced to mere centimeters, his breath mingling with yours, warm and slow. His touch was once again firm but never painful. His eyes, dark as the abyss, glowed with an intensity that slowly captivated you. You found yourself hanging on his lips, almost asking for permission to breathe regularly. “It is rare…” he concluded. You took a deep breath, and the tension between you was growing increasingly palpable. His tone was like sweet poison, flowing slowly through your veins, making you doubt once more everything you had always believed. His hand slowly moved from your wrist to your side, stopping just below your ribs, where the wound, though treated, still throbbed painfully. The contact, though light, made you flinch, a mix of pain and something else you couldn’t quite identify. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the tension between you becoming almost unbearable.

“You’re still loyal to someone who didn’t think twice about abandoning you to the enemy on Khofar some nights ago…” You swallowed at his words, feeling the knot in your throat that blocked every word and the weight in your stomach. “Deep down, you’re still searching for a master, someone to guide you… That life, you’ve never truly felt it as your own; they never understood you,” he continued, his gaze fixed on your eyes as if he could see inside you, reading every thought, every hidden emotion. “But I can.” For a moment, you felt yourself falter at those words. The tension between you was palpable, and you could not take your eyes off what must be your enemy, although your mind tried to keep lucidity. Your breathing was slow and irregular, each breath an attempt to hold back an invisible and unknown force that seemed to want to overwhelm you. The knot in your throat was getting tighter, blocking the words you wanted to say. Your eyes were mesmerized. There was an incredible intensity in those foxy eyes, a mixture of fear and fascination that left your heart inexplicably throbbing and mind confused. You failed to swallow trying to make words come out to counter his claims

“You are like me…” he whispered a short distance from your lips.

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Notes :

Well, yes, the sexy hot af villain who will be the protagonist of the new series is Him. Qimir, from The Acolyte. If you don’t know him, go and watch that series because Manny Jacinto put all his effort to seduce us towards the dark side. This is just the beginning, still do not know how many chapters will have but I hope not many, I would like to write about more topics for him.

if you haven’t seen the series there will be some spoilers, so please watch the series first

-Mel

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welcometo79s · 9 months ago

Text

just a little love

synopsis: as you're busy reading in your coruscant apartment; fives really craves some attention and affection from you.

contains: fives x gn!reader, kisses, fives being clingy, pure tooth-rotting fluff, self-indulgent [repost after being shadow-banned]

warnings: non-sexual making out. yeah it's a thing. my asexual soul only found out that most people on this cursed earth consider like, french kissing and neck kisses inherently suggestive like 4 weeks ago so if you wanna read it like that, sure. but it's also fiction where i can have whatever i want so just know this was made with the intent of it being SFW romantic fluff and that's how it's written. i hope this isn't too confusing to my allosexual audience, bear with me here.

word count: 2k

The rain seemed to be hitting the windows of your small Coruscant apartment but you paid it no mind. The thick glass shielded you from the relentless storm outside and your nose was buried in your newest novel; an adventure of two mercenaries doing seemingly impossible jobs throughout the galaxy. You had made yourself a cup of tea and the steaming beverage as well as the warm blanket you had thrown over your lap soothed you and helped you focus on the story. You hadn't gotten very far in the book yet; only having just started Chapter 5, but you already had a feeling that this was going to be a good one.

You were about to find out whether the two protagonists would manage to make it to Tython to find an ancient Jedi holocron for their client when you heard sounds coming from the bedroom. You noted that Fives must have woken up. This was his first day on shore leave and as much as he had enjoyed the nice lunch he had shared with you and the holofilm you two watched together, the campaign before had tired him out. So the two of you had laid down in bed and cuddled; Fives having fallen asleep in your arms to the sound of your heartbeat and the soothing motion of your fingertips running up and down his back.

Once you had woken up, you couldn't fall asleep anymore so you opted for finally getting started on that book you bought; getting up quietly as to not wake your favorite ARC Trooper. You had pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and left him to finish his nap, instead sitting down on the living room couch.

But now that Fives was awake, it didn't take long for him to show up in the doorframe, dressed in black pajama shorts and a loose fitted blue 79s shirt he, according to his own words, had won in a Karaoke competition. You gave him a soft smile. "Slept well?", you asked before returning your attention to the datapad you were reading on.

"Hmm... I missed you though", he mumbled and made you laugh with the almost pouting tone in which he said it. He sat down beside you and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning against you and resting his chin on your shoulder. You could tell right away he was in a clingy mood and when Fives wanted attention, he wasn't exactly subtle. The way he had basically slumped against you with his whole body weight and attempted to snuggle up to you, despite your sitting position and the way you were holding that datapad making it pretty difficult, had already given you an idea of his current state.

But when you continued reading instead of putting the datapad aside and giving him the affection he was looking for, Fives decided he had to dial it up a notch. "Cyare...", he started carefully, turning his head on your shoulder to press a few soft kisses to your neck that tickled you, "you know I'm only on leave for a couple of days... then they're putting me back in the danger roulette with all the separatists, clankers and evil alien machines that want to kill me."

He sat up and and put a finger to your chin, turning your head towards him and pecking your lips gently. "You're the only thing I look forward to when I'm on leave... well besides not having to fear for my life", he continued and you let out a sigh. Fives nuzzled your cheek, leaving a few kisses on your skin every once in a while. You paid him no mind. There was however a subtle smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You couldn't deny that you liked Fives being a little clingy and sappy sometimes.

Fives wondered whether you had understood that he craved your affection. "Can I kiss you?", he asked and poked your other cheek with his pointer finger, resting his chin on your shoulder once more. "I really want to kiss you."

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gently running a hand through his hair. "Believe it or not, I got that cyare", you chuckled and your tone softened a little. "Let me just finish up this chapter. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes."

Fives' response to that was attempting to sit down on your lap, pushing your datapad closer to your face due to the proximity. You looked up from the device and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, raising your eyebrows. "You're a pain, you know that?"

He chuckled. "You don't mean that."

You let out a sigh and handed him the datapad. "Can you put this on the table for me?"

There was a triumphant smirk on his face when Fives took the item from you and leaned back, turning slightly to place the datapad on the living room table behind him. Once he had turned towards you again, he inched closer to you on your lap and you snuck your arms around his waist, pulling him flush to your chest. You could feel his weight on your legs, knowing he was technically too heavy for you to keep him here for long, but you tried to brush that thought aside.

Fives was so close to you now that you could feel his breath on your lips and he smiled at you softly; a loving gaze in his eyes before he cupped your face with his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back immediately, slowly and lightly pecking his lips with your own. You could feel his lower lip slightly tremble under yours and you went to gently pluck on it with your lips. Fives let out a content sigh and pressed a more firm kiss to your mouth, then your cheek and several spots along your jawline.

"I love you so much...", he mumbled between kisses, making you smile at him.

"I love you too", you responded quietly, pulling him in for another round of kisses to his lips, your tongue gently sliding over his bottom lip and being met with a sweet taste. You pulled away for a moment, smirking at Fives. "Are you wearing lip balm?"

Fives chuckled slightly. "Had to. How else am I supposed to convince you to keep kissing me?"

"What makes you think I'd say no to that?", you pressed another soft kiss to his lips and Fives went in for another two as soon as you pulled away.

"You just did", he responded, thinking back to you reading on the couch.

"No, I said 'wait a second'", you reminded him and Fives grinned.

"If we spend all our time waiting, life passes us by", he proudly proclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

"Do not give me words of wisdom to justify your abysmal lack of patience", you laughed and Fives chuckled as well. "What flavor is this anyway? The lip balm?"

"It said bubblegum peach on the package", he answered and you shook your head with a smile at the mental image of the 501st elite ARC Trooper, slayer of battle droids, walking into a drug store and buying something called 'bubblegum peach lip balm' just to kiss you later. Then again, that was something Fives would do. "Do you like it?"

You pondered the question for a moment, chuckling to yourself. "Jury's still out on that one", you teased and pulled him close again, pressing your lips flush against his before opening your mouth slightly. Fives' plucked at your lower lip gently before his tongue slid in to meet yours in a loving, slow kiss. You felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach and Fives wrapped his arms around your neck, the motion lifting his shirt a little. You shifted the position of your arms and wrapped them around his exposed midriff, your fingers gently drawing circles onto his sides; something you had learned did not tickle him in the slightest.

Fives kissed you slowly but passionately, pouring all his love for you into the gesture and you knew what he tried to convey without him needing to say anything. He had missed you. You had felt the same way while he was away on the campaign. This was him making up for all the times you both had been laying alone in bed at night, wishing to be able to hold the other. Fives already called you every day if possible, sneaking out of the barracks at night in secret to contact you and let you know that he was okay; that he loved you and thought about you. You thought about his brothers and wondered what they would think if they could see him sometimes; sitting on your lap like this and kissing you tenderly over and over again. The difference from seeing him decapitate droids in battle was probably jarring.

You smiled against his lips at the thought, almost letting out a chuckle as Fives attempted to snuggle even closer to you, his tongue moving against yours in a gentle motion. You didn't know how long you remained like this. It was easy to lose track of time when Fives was all you could focus on and he kissed you like you were his favorite thing in the galaxy. He said you were, at least. You vaguely remembered him having followed that up with listing "beds that don't feel like concrete" and "fruity mocktails at 79s" for second and third place.

Sometimes it felt like you could go on like this forever, getting lost in the sensation of his kisses and forgetting about the rest of the galaxy; about the war. For those few days you spent together when he was on leave, a future where the two of you didn't have to worry about keeping secrets and fighting battles seemed almost in reach. You pulled away after a while, noticing how your legs were beginning to feel a little numb from the weight of carrying Fives and you gestured him to lay down.

Once he had done that, you snuggled close to him on the couch, pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before Fives lifted his head to press one to your forehead, his nose brushing against yours as he did so. You slid down a little to rest your head against his chest, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt. For something they gave away at a Karaoke competition in a clone bar, the shirt was of surprisingly good quality and soft; the comforting sensation made complete by the warmth that Fives radiated. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, resting his chin on top of your head.

"I still can't believe I'm this lucky", you mumbled and felt his chest rising and falling with every breath. Fives chuckled softly.

"I feel the same way sometimes. A lot of times actually", he had a content smile on his lips and closed his eyes, enjoying holding you in his arms like this. "Want to continue that holofilm later we started on my last leave but never finished?"

You shrugged. "I honestly didn't like that one that much", you admitted and Fives grinned as an idea hit him.

"Then how about a Fives original?", he chuckled and looked at you with a mischievous smile. "Do you want to see Hardcase and Jesse look for the hidden stash of gold from a pirate group in the freezer of 79s? They made me promise not to show the recording to any of our brothers but you're not one of my brothers, so..."

You laughed. "I don't think they'd appreciate if you showed their drunk misadventures to me though."

Fives sighed. "Yeah they wouldn't... still, do you want to see it? I made it a montage and put funny music over it too."

You chuckled and smirked up at him. "Are you kidding? Of course I want to see it."

#star wars fives #tcw fives #clone trooper fives #arc trooper fives #tcw fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #star wars fives x reader #sw tcw #star wars the clone wars #clones x reader #the clone wars fives #fives x reader #tcw fives fluff #tcw x reader #star wars x reader #star wars clones #star wars clones x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Hello, I hope you are doing alright! So I can have a kinda cross over idea for a teen male reader. a mix of Batfam and star wars. The reader is a Jedi padawan that had to flee towards the Earth after the Jedi were forced into hiding and the rest is up to you.

Oh... It's been years since I watched Star Wars, but wiki is here to help. If there is something inaccurate, my apologies. Also, I had to put this iconic line in here.

Summary: (Y/N) is a Jedi who ran.

Warnings:

Earth wasn't a bad experience for (Y/N). After all, he has seen many different species and has seen a lot of things that would make everyone's skin crawl. It took a while for him to adjust to life here on Earth. It was... Interesting more than anything, but he did miss his fellow Jedis.

The Sith have taken over and every single Jedi was forced into hiding and they were forced to run. (Y/N) was a padawan, well, still is, but he doesn't really have any formal training, but he managed to pick up a few materials to study.

Padawans ran the farthest and hid extremely well. They had to, they would be the first targets for the Sith to kill them. (Y/N) for some reason actually loved Earth. Here, humans were a little bit weird, but he found success here as a writer.

He has always loved writing and then humans here liked it? He had no problem writing. He wrote under a pseudonym and he really enjoyed. Soon, he found a part time job in a really big tech company called Wayne Enterprises.

He worked hard there, despite it being a part time job. He enjoyed and he offered some insight to technology. Lucius Fox noticed him quickly and took his under his wing almost automatically. Such talent as Lucius would say, can't go to waste. He would be feeling guilty beyond belief.

There he met his now boyfriend Bruce Wayne.

Bruce and (Y/N) met when Bruce walked in the laboratory, wanting to see Lucius about something, but he found (Y/N) instead. (Y/N) and Bruce talked until Lucius came. He smirked as he saw something between the two.

He waited for a few moments before coming in, introducing (Y/N) once more to Bruce. Then, Lucius took Bruce and left (Y/N) to work alone in the lab. (Y/N) didn't think much of those conversations. He didn't look for anything exciting. It was just in his code as a padawan.

But Bruce wanted something more. (Y/N) was slightly conflicted about it with his training and everything he has been taught. But there was something about Bruce that made him... Well, (Y/N) had a few hot nights with himself after a meeting with Bruce that day.

That has been going on for a few months until Bruce has decided to man up and bite the bullet to ask (Y/N) out on a date. He really wanted this, so he had to be very careful and not scare him away. It took Bruce a few months to realize that he was bisexual so he said screw it.

He will ask him out. Even if (Y/N) says no, then that's life.

You could only imagine Bruce's surprise when (Y/N) said yes to the date. Bruce was shocked, but happy that (Y/N) has accepted it. Bruce told (Y/N) he would pick him up at his place and to be ready by 7 pm. Bruce was never so nervous in his life.

His kids noticed, how could they not? But Alfred told them that there will be hell to pay if they try to do something to (Y/N) and Bruce and if they try something to jeopardize the date.

Of course, they won't disobey their actual authority figure in the house so they waited with Alfred. Everyone was wondering whether or not he was in love and they have been wondering about (Y/N). What was he like? Is he cute? How come Bruce asked a guy? Is (Y/N) a gold digger?

All of those important questions, you know. They have to look out for their dad you know? Sure, Bruce is no fool, but still. And maybe, just maybe, they were bored with their lives.

Bruce and (Y/N)? Oh, they had a wonderful time. Bruce and (Y/N) talked about a lot of stuff. Bruce just wanted to know (Y/N) even more. He really did. Something was just... Bruce may have fallen in love.

And (Y/N)? Oh dear God, he fell hard. But still, he was scared to break the code. But he already got bonded to Gotham. It was a very peculiar city to him and he loved it. He didn't have it in his heart to ever leave this city. More so to leave Bruce. There was something about Bruce that (Y/N) found interesting.

Bruce drove (Y/N) back home that night and (Y/N) meditated before going to bed. Bruce, on the other hand, had patrol to go on. And let me tell you, the kids weren't letting up. The entire patrol was chaotic and Bruce under a line of fire from his sons.

It was just tiring and... Bruce was happy that he was patient with his sons. He really was.

Bruce introduced (Y/N) to his sons after a year of dating. He wanted to take it slowly and to see how he would react. Not everyone wants to date a man, a father of four more precisely. He told (Y/N) that he had kids on the first date. It was to make sure that there were no misunderstandings.

The introduction went very well. Everyone loved how (Y/N) was calm and relaxed, an oasis so to speak. A complete opposite of Bruce. Damian loved the way he meditated. Damian already called dibs on (Y/N). Tim said that he would borrow him for tech stuff. Jason simply gravitated due to the fact that he was calm and so... Balanced. Dick simply loved the fact that (Y/N) was a calm person.

But nothing is ever perfect and nothing lasts forever.

(Y/N) had to come clean to Bruce. He had to tell him about his Jedi side. He couldn't lie to him about it and he didn't like that something so heavy on his shoulders.

Bruce was worried when (Y/N) told him that they need to talk to him. Bruce could see that it was something serious and he thought that they were going to break up.

He didn't understand the word Jedi. What? Bruce thought that (Y/N) was crazy. Then (Y/N) used the Force and showed him his lightsaber. Bruce had to sit down for a second. Okay... What the hell is going on?

(Y/N) told him everything about Jedi Order and the Sith. He told him about the Sith taking over and forcing Jedi's into hiding. Bruce processed it all and asked him about leaving Earth. It was a valid question.

(Y/N) told him he couldn't leave because he got attached. He loved Bruce and his sons and that he couldn't leave. Even as if gets safe. Bruce hugged his boyfriend tightly, giving him a kiss. After calming himself down he also told (Y/N) that he has something to confess.

(Y/N) didn't expect to hear that Bruce Wayne is Batman. And that his kids are the birds, but hey... At lease they were honest with one another. Bruce and (Y/N) shared a hug that day, happy that they got honest.

And that's what led to this moment between the two of them, in the middle of the night. It was a difficult patrol for those involved and Bruce just wanted some comfort. (Y/N) had to step in with his Force and everyone was just exhausted.

(Y/N) also had to come clean to the kids and they all wanted to see more of his Force, but he was too tired to even think, let alone use the Force. Bruce ushered everyone to go to the showers and just go to sleep.

(Y/N) and Bruce shared the shower, making sure that they are okay and unharmed. (Y/N) allowed himself to be lead to the bed to be changed by Bruce, who understood that this was not something that (Y/N) is used to. (Y/N) isn't used to operating every night.

(Y/N) reached out for Bruce who happily took his hand into his and squeezed, letting him now he is here. (Y/N) sighed as he relaxed, Bruce getting behind him and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

" Sleep honey, you deserve it. " Bruce murmured into the back of (Y/N)'s neck. (Y/N) nodded and just relaxed... The night wasn't really over yet.

All four sons came in at same time, seemingly having a bad dream at the same time. (Y/N) and Bruce welcomed them in. (Y/N) just got squished between them all and thankfully, Bruce had a big bed

For some reason, he wouldn't have it any other way.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 7 months ago

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In Another World

Part 2

Request: Hi! Can I please request a Kylo x f!reader oneshot where she’s from Earth, & doesn’t know about jedi + 1st order(she’s not a Jedi/no powers). One day stumbles upon something that causes her to teleport where the 1st Order is. Kylo & troops notice her & capture her(she’s terrified/confused), He keeps her safe, & to fully protect her, he marries her so the order doesn’t question why she’s alive. She hates it at first, but they both fall in love, she even talks him down, so he doesn’t kill his dad. Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Warnings: angst

WC: 1.5 K.

You can read part 1 here. Fictober Challenge

You didn’t understand why Ren had forced you into a marriage at first. You assumed, like other men who force women into such bonds, that he wanted something cruel and selfish. You prepared yourself to resist, even if fear gripped you, you would rather die than let him touch you like that.

But to your surprise, on your wedding night, he entered your now shared room with nothing but a condition: you would obey his commands in public, but in private, you had the freedom to be yourself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being in a cell.

Over time, your defenses softened. He remained cold and stoic, but he started inviting you to join him for dinner.

Those dinners were silent and tense at first, but one evening he asked, “How was your day?” It startled you, and the truth tumbled out; how suffocating it was to stay locked up every day in your room. Something changed then. He began to let you roam the base, and you’d walk alongside him, watching as he commanded his troops.

Then, there was that fateful day on a distant planet, where he was hunting rebels. He asked if you wanted to step outside, to feel the sun on your skin. It was a monumental leap of trust on both sides. You spent the day collecting wildflowers you’ve never seen in your life. And when he saw your collection that night, he laughed- a genuine laugh that lit up his entire face. It amused him how you seemed to be so fascinated with these common, mundane flowers. It was the start of something beautiful, fragile, and so terribly dangerous.

The flowers became your secret language. Every time he returned from a mission, he brought you a new one. Each time he saw the sparkle in your eyes and the smile he put on your face, his heart softened further. But the day he brought a flower and your smile didn't reach your eyes, something in him shattered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hesitantly stepping closer.

“Nothing,” you shook your head dismissively.

He took your hand, a rare gentleness in his touch. “I know you’re lying. Please. Tell me.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering to meet him. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do. Please talk to me,” he urged.

“I was just thinking… about everything,” you admitted.

He frowned, confusion and worry etched in his features. “And that made you sad?”

You nodded. “Yes. Because I see good in you, Ren. You don’t have to serve the dark side,” you said, cautiously.

His hand fell away, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do,” you insisted, stepping forward. “You don’t have to be the monster you pretend to be. I know there’s a part of you that is good. You saved my life. At first, I thought it was out of cruelty or control, but now I see… you were trying to protect me. You can’t hide that part of yourself anymore.”

“And why does that matter?” His voice grew rough with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. “Why does it matter if I’m good or bad?”

“Because I have grown to care about you,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I like you. And it hurts to see you hiding behind this wall, pretending to be something you’re not. You’re more than just darkness and cruelty-”

His expression shifted, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Y- you care about me?” The words seemed to echo in his mind, blocking out everything else you said.

As he pointed that out, you realized you revealed more than you intended. You took a shaky breath, there was no denying it now. “I…I do.”

You braced yourself for anger or rejection, but instead, he closed the distance between you. His hand rested at the back of your head, and he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort, rejection. Finding none, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours,s o gently you almost didn’t believe it was real. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling as you deepened the kiss, feeling the walls between you finally crack.

From then on, he became more caring, more affectionate. Even with his troops, he was still intimidating but gentler.

He had opened up to you, sharing stories of his past, of his grandfather, and the legacy that haunted him. In return, you spent hours studying their histories, trying to understand the world that shaped him.

One day, he captured a girl who held crucial information about his uncle. He didn;t want you to see her, but word got around, and you found your way to the room. The sight of her, bound and defiant, brought back memories of your own capture. You talked to her, and eventually, you freed her. She hesitated, begging you to leave with her, but you told her that Kylo wouldn’t harm you.

“Where is she?” he stormed into your shared room, his voice like thunder.

“Who?” you feigned innocence, though your heart raced.

“Don’t play with me, Y/n. I’m not in the mood. Where’s the girl?” His fists clenched, his nostrils flaring.

“Oh, Rey?” you replied with forced nonchalance. “I let her go.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Let her go? You let her go?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea what-” He was interrupted by a trooper informing him they’d located her. His father was there, too. Without another word, he stormed out, leaving you behind.

You followed, finding him poised to strike his father down. “Stop!” you cried, your voice cracking with desperation.

“Get back to your room,” he ordered, his voice like ice.

“Ben, please,” you pleaded, taking a cautious step forward. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, raising a hand, ready to use the Force.

“Remember what you told me about your grandfather?” you pressed, your voice trembling but determined. “Vader returned to the light. He saved his son, and his son saved him. If you want to honor him, let your father go. Please, come back to me. I won’t leave without you.”

“Y/n!” he growled, the conflict raging in his eyes.

Heart pounding, you took a final step back toward the railing. “I’m giving you a choice, Ben. Will you let your love for me win…or your thirst for power and revenge?”

“Don’t try anything reckless,” he warned, fear flashing across his face.

“Then choose me,” you whispered, before letting yourself fall into the void. Fear gripped you, you didn’t want to die, but hope lingered- that he would save you, choose you.

You never hit the ground. His arms caught you, and you opened your eyes, he held you tightly. He’d let go of his father to save you. He chose love over hate.

Guiding him back to the light was a slow, painful process, but he let you in, step by step. Peace followed, but the dream began: visions of a place you knew you had to return to. You couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. You knew what that meant. You had to go, leave him behind, return to your life, your own timeline. You spent the last few days giving him all the love you could, spending every minute of every day with him.

The day finally came. You brought him the coordinates, the dread heavy in the air. When he asked you about it, you told him you’d been having dreams about that place and wanting to explore it, without explaining further.

When you arrived, you saw the thing that looked like a portal of some kind, but he couldn’t see it. To him it looked like a wall.

He sensed your pain and unease. “Y/n, why are we here?”

You inhaled slowly, unsure of how to tell him this. “I have to go back.”

“Go back? Where, Y/n? Go back where?” He knew the truth, but he didn’t want to hear it, believe it.

“You know where,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “I have to. All signs are telling me I can’t be here, Ben. The dreams, this unsettling feeling, the accidents lately. I’m not meant to be here anymore,” you explained.

“Nonsense,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You belong here with me. You can’t leave me now…Please,” he begged, his voice breaking.

“I believe I was brought here to save you, to guide you back to the light.That purpose is fulfilled. I must go back and you have to let me. I don’t belong here and you know that, no matter how much I want to, how much you want me to… If you love me, you will let me go.” A tear slipped down your cheek and in a moment he was there, wiping it away, his hand trembling.

“But I love you,” he choked out.

“I love you, too. Maybe in another world, in another life, we’ll find our way back to each other. I will miss you so so much, Ben. And I will always love you.”

You kissed him one last time, lingering, memorizing every sensation, not wanting the kiss to end. But it had to. You struggled to pull away, but when you did, you didn’t look back. You walked toward the portal, his fingers slipping from yours. That touch was the last thing you felt before awoke, to see yourself back in the lab, with tears streaming down your face.

Tags: @aoi-targaryen

#star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #fictober #whumptober #kylo ren x reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #kylo ren imagine #ben solo x reader #ben solo imagine #gif imagine #adam driver #kylo ren one shot #ben solo one shot #fictober24 #angst

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snitchcrimsonwrites · 25 days ago

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Drawn Together-Chapter 10

Pairing: Tech x Jedi! Reader

The Bad Batch are on the run after the events on Pantora when they run into a mysterious stranger who offers them assistance. Who is this stranger, and how come it seems like they know, Echo? The story will roughly follow the events of the series.

Rex has a plan for removing the Batch’s inhibitor chips. Clone Force 99 just need to meet him on Bracca, sounds easy enough right?

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

Stars race past as the Marauder glides through hyperspace. Inside the ship's main compartment, Wrecker is hunched over on the landing seats, holding his head in his hands, while Omega hunches next to Tech as he fine-tunes a scanner attached to Gonky’s back. You kneel next to Wrecker, your hand softly placed on his temple. As you direct a steady flow of Force energy, you aim to alleviate the pressure in his head. He seems to breathe a bit more easily beneath your touch, though some tension remains. The headaches are becoming alarmingly frequent.

“I don’t like this. Rex wants to cut open my head," Wrecker whines.

“He aims to extract the foreign programming chip integrated into your neural matrix... and into all of ours as well. There's a distinction.” Tech responds matter-of-factly, not raising his gaze from his task.

Wrecker mutters, clearly annoyed. He never requested this. “Yeah, well… same result.”

“Don’t worry, Wrecker. Tech has been having me study surgical techniques all morning. If Tech gets squeamish, I’ll step in," you joke.

Wrecker looks at you cautiously, clearly not finding the joke amusing. “Not funny, Y/N. You and Omega don’t have to be concerned about anyone messing with your heads."

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you apologize. “But you’re in good hands. I promise. We wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” “Absolutely. We’ve got you, Wrecker,” Omega agrees.

Wrecker grunts and offers a slight, grateful nod, despite his shoulders remaining stiff with unease.

—-----------

The surface of Bracca was cluttered with the decaying remnants of countless ships, their hulls fractured, cannons twisted, and durasteel ribs protruding from the earth. As the Marauder touched down, the hatch hissed open hydraulically, unveiling Rex, who stood ready, his figure outlined against the imposing wreck of a Venator-class Jedi Cruiser nearby.

Rex nodded sharply at the cruiser. “That’s our destination. The med bay should be intact enough for us to extract the chips.”

Without a word, the Batch disembarked. You followed closely behind Tech, who was slightly hunched, his eyes fixed on the scanner in his hand as he continued fine-tuning the readings.

“How’s the scanner coming along, Tech?” Hunter inquired, carefully stepping around a sharp piece of wing plating.

“By assessing Rex’s neural mapping after the removal against Y/N’s baseline without the chip, I’ve identified the distinct frequencies tied to the interference from the inhibitor chip. I’m currently adjusting for cellular anomalies.”

You glance at Hunter, providing a helpful translation. “He’s almost done.”

Hunter offered a faint smirk of appreciation. “Good to know.”

As you venture deeper into the graveyard of ships, water sloshes beneath your feet. Portions of the wrecks are partially submerged in still, dark pools, with the taller fragments rising like towers from the mirrored surface.

“There’s a side access port,” Rex pointed out, indicating the aft section of the cruiser. "It should be less patrolled. Now, it’s half-submerged, so we need to tread carefully.”

Hunter paused, tilting his head. His eyes scanned the rippling water beneath which something moved. “Stay out of the water,” he said, his voice low. “Something’s down there.”

The team moved cautiously. You hoisted Omega toward the hatch, and she scrambled through. Tech offered his hand as you climbed after; you accepted with a glance, knowing he knew you didn’t need it to navigate.

You all continued to navigate through the twisted skeleton of the cruiser. Rusted beams groaned underfoot, and each step echoed faintly through the derelict structure.

Inside, the cruiser’s halls were warped and partially collapsed. The walls had buckled, and the ceilings sagged. Rainwater dripped steadily from overhead fissures, pooling along the slanted floors and trickling into deeper crevices below. The group reached a ruptured bulkhead where the floor had entirely collapsed, exposing a gaping chasm beneath them. Black water swirled below, its surface disrupted by shattered beams and jagged debris.

"The med bay is just over that gap,” Rex said, pointing to a ledge faintly visible on the opposite side.

Wrecker looked down and frowned. “So… what, do we fly?”

“Grab that cable,” Rex instructed flatly.

Wrecker muttered something inaudible, surveying the drop with evident unease. His gaze flicked to you as Rex turned.

“You think you can make it across? Anchor the line?”

You rolled your shoulders, already grinning. “Not a problem.”

You stepped back, your boots slipping a bit on the sloped floor. Then, with a strong sprint and a focused use of the Force, you propelled yourself over the chasm—your cloak billowing behind you, body rotating midair. You landed in a crouch on the opposite side, as steady as rock.

The clones stared for a moment, silently impressed.

Rex smiled slightly and shook his head. "It never gets old. Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be a Jedi?” he asked the others.

“Every day,” Echo replied evenly.

You quickly secured the cable to a mangled durasteel support beam, giving it a sharp tug to test its strength. It held firm. One by one, the others began to cross: Tech first, then Echo, followed by Omega, and Hunter next. Wrecker lingered last, staring at the cable.

“Actually… uh, you know, my head feels completely fine now,” he stammered. “Maybe I’ll just stay here and start a new life.”

“Don’t look down,” Omega called encouragingly. “You’ve got this!”

Grumbling, Wrecker finally seized the cable and started to shimmy across, holding on as if his life depended on it. Halfway across, a tense snap reverberated through the chamber. The anchor point tore free with a shrill cry of metal, and the cable snapped away from the other side.

“WRECKER!” Omega’s scream rang out as he dropped.

You reacted instinctively. One hand shot forward, fingers spread wide. The Force surged through you, catching him in midair. His descent halted suddenly. You widened your stance, bracing your boots to prevent yourself from falling over the ledge. Echo rushed to your side, anchoring you as Wrecker twisted in midair and caught the trailing cable with both hands.

“Hang on!” you shouted, eyes burning with focus.

You gently released your hold, easing the Force’s grip as the others pulled him up. Tech and Rex steadied the line while Echo and Hunter began lifting Wrecker to safety.

“Well. That was suboptimal,” Tech said, panting.

“I’m good,” Wrecker sputtered. “Totally fine. No problem. Didn’t scream.”

Hunter raised a hand suddenly, his entire body snapped into alertness.“Hold up.” Everyone froze.

Omega stepped closer to the edge, eyes wide. “What is that…?”

The water beneath stirred. A dark form moved just under the surface, and then, abruptly, a tentacle shot up, coiling around Wrecker’s leg and dragging him down into the depths.

"Catch this!” you shouted, throwing your pack to Tech, your saber gripped tightly. Before anyone could intervene, you plunged forward, diving into the murky black depths.

The water engulfed you completely until a flash from your lightsaber illuminated the area around you in a brilliant display of color against the pitch-black surface.

Wrecker fought beneath you, bubbles escaping from his helmet as additional tentacles ensnared him. In one powerful motion, you sliced through the tentacles holding him, seized his armor, and kicked upwards.

With a circle of your upper body water churned behind you, currents bending to your will. You summoned a stream to rise, lifting you both in a spiraling surge toward the surface.

You emerged with a gasp, pulling Wrecker along. “Hold on!” Although you hadn’t fully mastered this skill enough to return you both to the ledge, you successfully reached the cable as the others pulled you up. As you approached the ledge, the others hurried forward, extending their arms downwards. Hunter and Echo grab Wrecker, hauling him up. Rex and Tech pull you up afterward, soaked and breathless.

Omega rushed forward, eyes full of emotion. You and Wrecker collapsed side by side, panting heavily, drenched and nearly drowned.

“Maker…” Rex sighed, leaning on his knees. “It nearly makes me nostalgic for fighting clankers.”

“At least they didn’t try to eat me,” Wrecker wheezed.

Tech appeared beside you and offered a hand. You took it, pulling yourself up. With a small motion, you flicked the water from your clothes, and the droplets spiraled away in a controlled swirl.

Tech returned your pack, arching an eyebrow. “You have a talent for dramatic departures."

You smiled confidently while adjusting the strap. “Only when absolutely necessary.”

—--------

In the aftermath of the chaos, silence envelops the group as you advance, your boots faintly echoing in the slanted corridors until you reach the med bay. Inside, the space showcases its decay. The previously sterile white walls are now stained with rust, grime, and old scorch marks. Rats scurry on the floor as Rex and Tech illuminate the room with their helmet lights.

Tech remarks detachedly, "I would no longer classify this as a sterile environment."

Rex doesn’t miss a beat. “Would you prefer the facility on Kamino?”

A pause. Tech regards the cracked surgical pod and blood-flecked instruments with dry disdain. “This will do nicely.”

In the corner, Echo links his scomp arm to the control terminal, its interface flashing unpredictably as he starts calibrating the surgical systems. You stand next to Tech, aiding in organizing the required surgical tools. Your gaze shifts to Wrecker, who paces like a caged animal. Tech approaches him, scanner ready. “Time to get scanned, Wrecker.”

“Let’s just get it over with,” Wrecker mutters, pulling off his helmet.

The scanner produces a continuous sound while scanning his skull. “Chip location confirmed. Ninety degrees from the right orbital floor—where the parietal and temporal lobes meet,” Tech states, looking at you with a subtle air of satisfaction. “It's just as we predicted.”

“Nice to be right… even when the stakes are terrifying,” you say, trying to sound lighthearted.

You walk up to Wrecker steadily, holding a syringe. "Alright, big guy. This will just help you relax..."

But before you can finish, Wrecker’s hand lashes out and clutches your wrist in a crushing grip.

“Jedi,” he says, voice flat and hollow. “Are enemies of the Empire.”

His other hand grips your throat with terrifying strength. You gasp, fighting against his hold.

“Wrecker, it’s me!” you rasp, paralyzed with fear. Just before Wrecker's grip tightens on you, Tech slams into Wrecker’s side with unexpected force, freeing you momentarily. However, the distraction is short-lived. Wrecker retaliates by grabbing Tech by the neck and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength.

“You are violating Order 66,” he states, and with a mighty yell, Wrecker throws Tech across the room. The sound of impact resonates, and Tech collapses to the floor, motionless.

“Tech!” you scream, your voice hoarse.

Wrecker rotates slowly, picks up his helmet, and puts it on with a chilling finality. He raises his blaster rifle, directing it straight at you.

Positioning yourself between him and the others, your hand moves towards your saber, though it shakes a bit. He’s not himself; you sense it. Then he fires.

Blaster bolts scream through the room as you skillfully deflect them, sending them into walls and broken consoles. You back away gradually, luring him toward the corridor.

Echo shouts over the chaos, “We can’t let him destroy the med bay! We need that pod!”

You duck through the med bay doors, as blaster fire scorches the narrow corridor in bursts of red.

“Omega! Stay with Tech. Don’t let him move if he wakes. Echo, safeguard that pod!” you shout over your shoulder. Rex and Hunter emerge from around the corner, entering the battle. “We need him down, now!” Rex shouts.

You reignite your saber, its glow illuminating the corridor with an eerie light. You deflect shot after shot but never hit Wrecker. A bolt nearly ricochets dangerously close to Rex. “Sorry!” you call out, breathing heavily.

Echo charges in, utilizing a heavy canister as a makeshift shield. “Come on, Wrecker! This isn’t you!”

Wrecker roars and crashes into him, sending Echo flying into Rex with bone-rattling force. They collapse, unmoving.

You rush to their side, breathless, but just as you’re about to check on them, Wrecker is already on the move again.

“I’ve got him,” Hunter snarls, charging up behind Wrecker and securing him in a chokehold. “Snap out of it, Wrecker! Resist!"

Wrecker slams him into the wall. Hunter leans back, disoriented, as Wrecker effortlessly lifts him, tightening his grip around his throat.

“Clones in violation of Order 66… must be terminated.”

A blaster shot slams into Wrecker’s shoulder. He drops Hunter, stunned, and spins around. At the far end of the hall stands Omega, Wrecker’s blaster trembling in her hands.

“Please, stop,” she pleads, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wrecker meets her gaze and starts to move closer. “Good soldiers follow orders.”

Omega retreats and then bolts down the corridor, lungs searing, until she finds herself at a dead end. She turns, gasping for breath, just as Wrecker comes into view, aiming his blaster at her. Suddenly, he is yanked back as a stun blast hits him in the side, making him freeze and then drop to the ground.

Behind him stand you and Rex, smoke curling from Rex’s barrel.

“Sorry, Wrecker,” Rex says quietly.

You hurry over and kneel next to Wrecker, assessing his vitals. He's still breathing. Looking up at Omega, you see her hands trembling, and her eyes are filled with shock.

“It’s finished. You’re safe now." You draw her close in a firm hug, your tone soft. “You showed great courage, Omega. Truly courageous."

Footsteps echo through the corridor. Hunter limps into view, coughing, closely followed by a battered Echo. Echo quickly kneels next to Wrecker, checking his pulse to confirm. “He’ll be out long enough to get him into the pod,” Rex confirms.

“Then let’s wrap this up before he awakens again,” Echo says solemnly.

—----------------

The soft hum of the surgical pod pulses through the room as the surgical arm glides silently over Wrecker’s head. Wrecker lies still, his massive form barely contained within the pod. The rest of the Batch stands close by, stiff with quiet anticipation.

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Echo murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes fixed on the pod.

“No idea,” Rex replies. “I’ve only been in the pod… not watching someone else go under.”

Omega perches on a nearby crate, arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting on top of them. Her gaze remains fixed on Wrecker.

In the furthest corner of the room, you kneel next to Tech, who is slumped against the wall, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. A small cut marks his brow, while a dark bruise spreads across his cheekbone. You carefully dab at the injury with a piece of sterile cloth, each motion gentle, practiced, and deliberate.

“You ought to get some rest," you whisper.

“I think lying there unconscious on the floor counted. For a while," he said casually.

You give him a glance, and he holds it without backing down.“But I’m fine,” he insists. “I promise.”

You observe him intently, feeling doubtful. He returns your gaze. “You didn’t have to push me out of the way," you respond, your voice low.

He adjusts his goggles with precise movement. “No. I didn’t.”

His tone is quiet but firm. “You are more than capable of handling yourself. That’s never been in question.” He pauses, just long enough to hold your gaze. “But in that moment… you were in immediate danger. I calculated the most effective way to reduce the risk.”

A pause. “And if it comes down to a choice… I’d rather it be me than you.”

The words hit like a silent explosion. You freeze. Something in your chest tightens.

“You don’t have to say things like that,” you reply, trying not to unravel.

“I’m aware,” he says without hesitation. “I simply mean them.”

You feel your face flush despite yourself. Your fingers fumble with the cloth, brushing too lightly against his temple. Tech instantly notices, his brows lifting in faint concern.

“Your skin is warmer than usual. Are you developing a fever?” he asks, gently placing his hand to your cheek.

You let out a small laugh, feeling flustered. “No. You just… caught me off guard.”

He tilts his head, pondering. "Interesting. That wasn’t what I intended."

“You actually do that more frequently than you realize."

Before he can respond, the pod lets out a gentle chime, signaling the end of its sequence. Hunter and Rex spring into action, their instincts sharpening. Omega sits up straight. “Is it done?” she asks, her eyes wide.

—--------------------------

Moonlight cascaded over the broken outlines of abandoned ships in Bracca’s vast graveyard. Tech sat by himself on the edge of a partly collapsed Jedi cruiser, a datapad on his lap, taking the first watch. Your footsteps disturbed the silence as you stepped out of the corridor. "I thought you wouldn’t mind some company,” you said gently.

Tech didn’t make eye contact, but a slight smile hinted at his relief. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope for it.”

You settled beside him, boots swinging over the edge, shoulders touching as you both gazed at the wreckage. After a moment of silence, you glanced at him, noticing the freshly shaved patch at his temple and the narrow strip of gauze still adhered to his skin from the removal of the inhibitor chip just a few hours earlier.

“How are you feeling?” you asked gently.

“Physically?” he replied with an almost clinical calm. “Adequate. Slight fatigue. Understandable after a foreign object is removed from one’s parietal lobe.”

“Cognitively, however…I am unsure. I assume that’s what you’re really asking.”

You exhale softly, curling your fingers around the edge of the ledge. “It’s been a day.”

Your voice was low and even, but it carried weight. You spoke slowly, explaining how you hadn’t expected all of it to come crashing back—the loss of your squad, the betrayal, that sick, helpless moment when everything fell apart. And today… watching it happen again.

Almost happening again with Wrecker. You didn’t think you’d have to live through that a second time, and you hadn’t expected the Batch to matter this much. Not so soon. Not so deeply.

Tech listened without interruption. “You’re not alone in that realization,” he said after a beat.

You tilted your head, intrigued. "When Wrecker attacked you… When he grabbed you—” His voice paused briefly. “I’ve encountered numerous dangers. Close brushes with death. Tactical setbacks. But that… that was something else entirely."

He took a slow breath. "It was… irrational." Instinctively, you reached up and lightly brushed your fingers against the unbruised side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

“I never thanked you,” you murmured. “For intervening." Before he could respond, you leaned closer and kissed his cheek.

Tech stiffened slightly, his blink betraying surprise more than anything else. “That was… unexpected,” he admitted.

“Just unexpected, but not unwelcome?”

“No. Definitely, welcome.” A faint smile crossed your face as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Is this okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just shifted slightly, enough for you to nestle against him more comfortably. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a breath. “Yes. Very much so.”

The silence returned, but it felt different now. The wind had settled, softly weaving through the shattered remains of ships. Below, lights from the distant scrapyard flickered like fireflies, while above, the stars glimmered faintly on rusted durasteel.

You drifted to the side, your breathing slowed, and your body fully relaxed. In just a few minutes, your head lay completely on his shoulder.

Tech tilted his head to glance at you, surprised to find you asleep. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare. Instead, he adjusted minutely to make you more comfortable. His expression shifted, softening into something contemplative.

"Intriguing," he whispered softly to himself.

He averted his gaze back to the wreckage, his voice low and filled with reverence. “You never rest deeply; I've watched you for countless nights, and never have you slept soundly—until now.”

You didn’t stir. Your hand rested lightly against his leg, and your posture was finally free of tension.

He allowed you to rest, remaining still and keeping watch long past his scheduled time, until the soft chime from his datapad broke the stillness.

Tech raised his hand and lightly touched your arm. “Y/N, it's time to wake,” he said softly.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him, your eyes heavy. "Did I doze off?"

“You did. Approximately forty-eight minutes ago. I elected not to disturb you.”

“I wasn’t planning to—” your voice trailed off, still thick with sleep.

“It’s alright. You needed it,” he finished. You both stood up slowly; Tech gestured toward the ship’s interior.

“Go lie down. Get the rest of the cycle, if you can.”

You hesitated. “What about you?”

“Echo’s shift. I’ll see to the handoff.”

You and Tech walked side by side down the corridor. At the entrance, Echo perched on a crate, casually chewing on a ration bar. He raised an eyebrow as you approached, his gaze shifting between you and Tech.

“Well, well. Thought you were on watch, Tech. Or were you both very invested in perimeter security?”

Tech didn’t blink. “The perimeter remained uncompromised.”

You let out a quiet snort as you moved past Echo toward the makeshift bedrolls. “Night, Echo.”

“Sleep tight, General.”

Tech and Echo exchanged a look. The corner of Echo’s mouth tugged upward in a smirk, but he said nothing more.

—--------------------

Tech crouched at the base of a long-dead console, sleeves rolled, hands deftly pried open a durasteel panel with a vibro-tool. Inside, there was a tangled nest of wires, aged but still reparable. He worked with careful precision, his brow slightly furrowed as he muttered softly to himself.

Behind him, you were shoulder-deep in a disheveled storage locker, rummaging through a chaotic mix of ship components in search of anything that might be functional.

“Whoever stocked this ship was excessively obsessed with hydrospanners,” you called out, the sound of your voice muffled by metal. “I’ve discovered six, and not one is the same.”

Tech didn’t glance back. “Phase One Republic engineers favored redundancy. Early clone support protocols emphasized overstocking, anticipating rapid deployment losses and emergency fieldwork. The approach was inefficient but thorough.”

You emerged from the locker with a bundle of wire spools and a half-rusted welding torch, glancing at it with distaste before carefully tossing it onto the accumulating “usable” pile beside you.

“Well, they definitely succeeded in overstocking.”

Tech stood up with a subtle hint of triumph, brandishing a power relay still coated in grime. “This will be useful. Possibly even responsive. Intact wiring, minimal corrosion.”

You glanced over at him, impressed. “How do you always know what you’re looking for?”

He gave a small shrug, trying to maintain modesty. “I understand how things are constructed. That tells you how they’re likely to fail and what’s worth salvaging.”

You observed him briefly before returning to sort through the scrap. “You seemed a bit distracted this morning. Is everything okay?”

“If you're referring to my performance, I assure you, I'm operating at approximately ninety-seven percent baseline. No lingering neural degradation from the procedure.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Tech halted, one hand lingering on the open panel. After a brief pause, his voice turned gentler.

“I was thinking about last night. When you fell asleep… on my shoulder.”

You hesitated, feeling sheepish. “Sorry. That wasn’t exactly intentional.”

“It was... welcomed," he answered plainly. “And it felt significant."

“It was,” you replied, locking eyes with him. “I felt safe. That’s… rare for me.”

Tech cleared his throat gently. “We should finish gathering what we can. The others will be expecting us soon.”

“Right.”

The two of you packed the last viable parts into separate satchels. As you handed him a coil of wiring, your fingers brushed against each other, and neither of you pulled away. As you stepped into the corridor side by side, your shoulders bumped, and your footsteps echoed faintly in the hollowed-out ship. But Tech was again distracted, visibly grappling with something. His brows furrowed slightly behind the lenses of his goggles.

“There’s… another thing I’ve been trying to understand. From last night.”

You glanced at him, already half-smiling. “When I kissed you on the cheek?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve been analyzing the context. It didn’t feel like a standard gesture of gratitude. It seemed more… layered.”

You slowed your pace, eyebrows raised, slightly caught off guard by how directly he had voiced it.

“You don’t offer physical affection lightly,” he continued, his tone steady yet sincere. "This led me to think—maybe mistakenly, but I hope not—that it has personal significance. More than just in the moment."

He paused at that moment, turning to face you completely. “I’d prefer to be correct.”

You halted your steps. "You’re not wrong,” you replied softly. “It was a thank-you—for saving me. But it wasn’t solely that.”

You inhaled deeply to center yourself. “Echo has rescued me from countless firefights, and I’ve never kissed him. You… you’re something else.”

The realization hit him. He blinked, his lips parting slightly as he adjusted to every detail of the previous night. Then, he nodded once, slowly and confidently, as if something crucial had just fallen into place.

“That distinction matters more than I’d accounted for.”

You resumed walking, your pace now slower and more deliberate. The air between you hummed with something charged yet quiet. You could feel Tech glancing your way again, deep in thought.

"Could I… conduct an experiment?” he asked unexpectedly.

You tilted your head and asked, “What kind of experiment?”

He exhaled slowly and deliberately. “Last night, you kissed me. It elicited a… reaction. Difficult to quantify. But I believe it’s linked to a developing emotional variable I hadn’t previously accounted for. I’d like to attempt replication, for comparison. With your permission, of course.”

Your brow lifted, amusement flickering across your face. “So you’re asking if you can kiss me.”

“Yes. However—to clarify—I don’t mean the cheek this time.”

“You don’t need to run an experiment to kiss me, Tech.”

“Perhaps not,” he said, voice quieter now. “But I wanted to be certain you’d say yes.”

“I’m saying yes.”

In that instant, Tech leaned closer, intentional and meticulous. His lips brushed against yours, tender and inexperienced, embodying a kiss filled with sincerity rather than skill. You leaned into him, your hand moving to softly graze the edge of his collar. His fingers momentarily twitched at his side before settling down. When the kiss broke, he blinked several times, his expression somewhere between awe and recalibration.

"...The data supports the hypothesis,” he stated softly.

You laughed, breathless and warm. “You’re impossible.”

“Possibly,” he agreed. “But presently… quite happy.”

#bad batch tech #star wars bad batch #star wars #tbb #the bad batch #tech x jedi reader #tech x jedi oc #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech #tbb x reader

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hhoneylemon · 1 month ago

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#dick grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 month ago

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Out of this World Chapter 13: You Remind Me of the Babe

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader/OC

Summary: The Mandalorian and the Earthling take the child to the forest planet of Corvus in search of Bo-Katan's Jedi ally.

Author's Note: Holy moly. This chapter was a DOOZY. It took me over a month but this thing finally made itself clear to me. When I tell you, dear reader, that there were SO MANY REWRITES. So many edits. So many conversations with my best friend. April 2025 was consumed by this chapter. Any moment to myself was spent thinking about it. This chapter is so very important to me, and so integral to this story. This one is a bit of an emotional roller coaster, and it may be the longest chapter of this story to date. Like all the chapters thus far I poured my heart and soul into it, but this one is special. I certainly wasn't going to post it until I was truly happy with the final draft, but now that I am happy with it I am also so thrilled to share it with you. I hope that you enjoy and I hope that the blood sweat and tears that went into this make for some good fanfic reading.

Mando'a: Di’kut - idiot, useless individual, waste of space Di'kutla - useless, worthless, stupid adika - little one cyar'ika - darling cyare - beloved ner - my verd - warrior ratiin - always ner burc'ya - my friend ni kar'taylir darasuum - I will know you forever (I love you)

Warnings: Cursing, violence, death, major character has a panic attack, vague conversation about religion, bastardization of canon events, I take some... liberties with the Force, fluff, lots of feelings from everyone, a reference to Labyrinth if you squint. I know that Labyrinth can't exist without Star Wars, but I wanted to use it anyway regardless of the fact that Earthling's Earth has no Star Wars... just go with it.

As always, strictly 18+, minors DNI

AO3

*****

The road to Corvus proves to be long and depressing, taking a few of the bleakest weeks you've experienced on the Razor Crest thus far. Moving about the ship feels completely miserable and it’s taking everything you’ve got to hold yourself together for the sake of your loved ones. But with each day that passes as your mobile home stretches across hyperspace, your ability to do so feels more waning than the last. Even that one spell when you and Din had been quietly mad at one another for several days felt like a nice family road trip compared to this. Instead of being mad at each other, however, this time the two of you are just equally trudging though the murkiness of one another's misery.

You haven't been sleeping well. When you do manage to get some rest it's back to being without your cosmic companion squished against you, which is likely contributing to the problem in the first place. Din's simply been too antsy to be cramped up in that tiny sleeping cabin with anyone besides himself, and he's told you as much multiple times. In your bones you know that when he does try, he can’t sleep either. He hasn’t complained about it outright, but the sound of his restlessness is obvious in the constant weariness which has chosen to settle in his voice as of late. It sounds as if everything in him has been worn so thin that he’s working with only useless shreds of himself. You can tell that he tries his best to sound normal in front of the kid, but when it’s just the two of you speaking you hear the torment in your love’s sullen tones.

“I can't relax enough to fall into real sleep,” he’ll respond in that same dejected manner when you ask him to join you in bed, “I fear I will just keep you awake with my constant fidgeting. It feels like I can't breathe in there.”

At this point you've ceased pestering him about coming to bed all together. The last few times the urge has bubbled up your throat you’ve shoved it back down, tired of that little pang of disappointment you feel each time he refuses. You're desperately missing the feeling of his strong body snugly flush with yours, wanting your own sense of comfort and security back at such a tough time like this.

Din does, however, make himself comfortable on the floor just outside the cot every night, listening as you read The Ruins of the Exiled to the kid. He hasn't missed a bedtime yet. It's the one genuinely nice and lighthearted part of the day for either of you. You'll be curled up in that poor excuse for a bed with the child in your lap, and your Mandalorian will be at the mouth with a bare hand reaching in to stroke your leg or caress your foot. It's comforting for you to have that touch from him in those moments. He's clearly using it as a way to communicate to you that he is trying his best to be present even if it's incredibly difficult for him to articulate that right now. Until this miserable trip is over and done with, it's the best you can hope to get from him.

It's after one of these reading sessions when you find yourself curled up in the cot thinking about possible outcomes for the future. Above you the child sleeps soundly in his hammock. Looking around the dimly lit sleeping cabin and trying to imagine how empty it will feel without the little one’s snores dangling over you, a sharp sting to your heart causes that thought to quickly dissipate. Instead, in an attempt to pull yourself from the pit of despair’s tempting edge, the image in your mind is replaced with a wildly contrasting scene.

One of a child’s bedroom, decorated and filled with things only a child could want. The warmth of a real home, not a nook on a cold spaceship. Much as you love the Razor Crest, you're aware that it cannot sustain a full life.

That image warms you for a moment, until everything around you is unexpectedly in disarray. Somewhere in the midst of all this contemplating the ship has suddenly dropped from hyperspace. Without warning, the world as you know it is violently lurching forward. With a frightful little squeal the kid comes falling out of his hammock and into your arms, and frightful noise of your own escapes your throat as the both of you tumble out of the cot all together. The pain in your right ass cheek feels like it's going to bruise from the way you land, but thankfully the kid is unscathed as you cradle protectively against your chest.

“Ugh, what the hell was that?” You ask yourself curiously before holding the child out to examine him, fingers brushing his forehead gently after he shakes his ears out like a dog drying its wet fur. “You okay, sweetie?”

The kid blinks up at you a few times, nodding and giving the 'thumbs up' gesture you've recently been teaching him for yes and no responses. Your heart soars a little at the sight of his two little fingers curling into a fist, noting that it's the first time he's flashed his 'thumb' without your prompting.

“What about our Mandalorian, I wonder?” A frown creases your facial features, asking the child this rhetorical question with worry in your tone. Then you move to get up, rushing over to the ladder. With your free hand cupped to the side of your mouth, you're calling up, “Din?! Is everything alright?!”

When an answer does not immediately follow you look down at the kid with even more worry knitting your brow. “What do you think that was all about, buddy?”

The kid coos and shrugs in response. You make quick but careful work of climbing up just enough to shove the kid onto the ground up there so that you may safely climb the rest of the rungs yourself. Once on the Crest's second floor you're scooping the child into your arms again, pressing the button for the cockpit door to make your way inside.

Din is in his seat facing towards you but he does not look up when the door opens. He's hunched forward, elbows balanced on his plated thighs. The silver of his beskar helmet is encased with the brown leather of his gloves, the orange tips of his splayed fingers pressing into the visor and forehead.

You hear him cursing in Mando'a under his shallow breath. Barely audible, the hiss of the modulator every few words is giving him away more than anything. The stars sit eerily still behind him. It dawns on you then that the ship has not only dropped out of hyperspace but is also completely sedentary.

“Din? What the hell happened to the ship? Are we okay?”

Din doesn't move, nor does he answer you. The string of Mando'a curses and phrases you don't understand continues to spew from his hidden mouth, the very sound of it sending jolts of anxiety through you. He's really starting to freak you out, having never acted like this before. You’ve seen him on edge plenty of times but this feels worryingly different. This is fucking unnerving . Moisture begins to spread through your palms, and the knot in your belly is dangerously close to becoming a deep pit.

Voice wavering, you ask him, “More importantly, are you okay, ner verd? ” Using the pet name you’ve adopted for him recently, you're attempting to pull him from what seems to you like some new form of panic attack.

Din has his special, lovely names for you which you cherish so much. So naturally you'd been wanting something personal to call him in return. Going through most of the ones common on Earth, none of those ever felt right to you. It seems wrong to call a Mandalorian 'honey' or 'baby'. Just doesn't sit well on your tongue. Then one day when you were practicing Mando'a the word for warrior came up. That's when the light-bulb appeared above your head. Din Djarin is your warrior. What could be more fitting than calling him just that in the tongue of his people? Laying half naked with him on the cockpit floor one night, you let the name slip from your tongue and it stuck the landing, so ner verd he quickly became.

Mindlessly, you're reaching for your warrior now, the gesture innocent enough, without considering his possible sensitivity around personal space at a time like this. It's a force of habit to touch him when he's feeling emotional, as he usually welcomes the physical attention. Your once touch starved lover usually acts as if he needs to feel the touch of your flesh against his more than he needs food or water.

Which is why you truly don’t expect Din's entire body to react to your oncoming fingers, jerking back against the dark red leather of the pilot's seat as he hisses, “ Don't touch me! ” He says it so sharply, almost as if he thinks that when you touch him one or both of you will burst into flame. Clutching the armrests of his seat, he shakes his helmeted head fiercely back and forth. “I am not worthy of that name. I am not worthy of anything . Di’kut! Di’kut! Di’kut! Ni di’kutla!”

The child's ears cast downwards and he makes a fluttering little noise of distress. You're flinching backwards too, putting a decent amount of distance between Din and the two of you. Moving over to the kid’s seat, you gently sit the foundling down with a kiss to the top of his head before turning back to face Din.

Hearing him say those things about himself, to call himself something like an idiot or a worthless waste of space in Mando’a, is completely discombobulating.

It feels like you’re not even looking at the man you consider to be your warrior right now. He looks like someone else, body moving in frantic ways so alien that your heart fills to the brim with fear at the sight of it. This is the man you rely on, the man who both protects you and teaches you to protect yourself. The man who makes you laugh without even trying and makes you cum at the drop of a hat. The man you’re certain you want to spend the rest of your life with. Face or no face. Green Bean or no Green Bean. Up until this moment you were so fucking sure that Din Djarin is it for you. Is that surety faltering?

No, certainly not. This may be the most he’s ever freaked you out, but that doesn't change the fact that you’d be lost without him. The only sure thing you see when you attempt to glimpse far enough in the future for your hair to be gray and your skin to have sagged is a beskar helmet by your side and a tan, wrinkled hand tangled in yours.

With a steadying breath, you remind yourself that Din Djarin is it for you. He’s the one and only. The person you intend to be with for as long as humanly possible. Din’s helped you through so many emotional ups and downs since the two of you met, and perhaps there have been times that he was just as frightened as you are now. Lord knows he’s seen you in similar states of distress.

Normally he’s the one who’s level headed, or has everything figured out. On the surface at least. It’s only really apparent to you at this moment that perhaps your warrior has only had things half figured out. He’s a natural leader, but that doesn’t mean he’s always in the headspace to lead.

Feeling determined to show him the same amount of trust and respect he usually displays for you, some of that fearful urge to flee gets pushed to the side.

Stepping forward slightly, careful not to get too close, you finally say to him, “Whatever happened to the ship sure scared the hell out of Green Bean and I. We got thrown out of the cot.”

His head finally snaps up at that, his voice tenderly asking, “Are either of you hurt?” The worry in his tone is so severe, causing your heart to surge with worry for him.

“No, we're fine. Shaken up if anything,” you reassure him evenly, “It’s you I’m concerned for.” Then your brow furrows, disquiet riding your tone, “Din, please talk to me. What's going on? Are we in danger or not?”

“We're not in danger. I-I dropped us from hyperspace on purpose,” he responds, visor clearly avoiding your gaze as he hesitates.

Springing from a furrowed position up towards your hairline, your brow continues to move along with your emotions. This time there's a surprised tone riding your voice, “I thought we still had like seven hours to Corvus?”

“We do. I... I don't know what came over me. I was sitting up here thinking about everything. Thinking about him ,” Din gestures towards the kid, and you notice his hand is trembling. Then he adds, “And then all the sudden hyperspace sounded so damn loud. Like a sharp painful dinging, as if the natural volume of the world increased out of nowhere. The noise of it made my chest hurt and my skin crawl. I needed it to stop. Needed everything to stop.”

“So you stopped the ship cause you needed everything to stop?” you ask tentatively.

He nods, “Still do. Even my own voice sounds like it's screaming at me right now. Yours too, and those noises the kid's making. Shit. It hurts . I've never felt this before.”

“You’re very overwhelmed. Sounds like an anxiety attack,” you say quietly, “and a bad one at that.”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I am not fit to carry on. I can’t do this anymore, cyar’ika.” After that his breathing becomes shallow again and he barely sounds like himself as he frantically mutters, “ I can't do this. I am a poor example of a Mandalorian. My beskar should be melted down and donated to those in need. Those with more honor than myself.”

Your chest begins to seize up a little with a mini anxiety attack of your own, your already weakened sense of security beginning to crumble under the weight of this sudden shift in your surroundings. “Din, you’re scaring the shit out of me right now. You don’t sound like the man I know under that beskar. Nothing’s more terrifying to me than seeing you like this.”

“I don’t know who the man under this beskar is anymore. Maybe I never knew.” The way his head tilts up to look at you as he says that, shoulders as slumped as they ever have been, makes you feel both beaten down and desperate to get this situation under control.

“Listen to me,” with your hands out in defense, you murmur, “I'm not gonna touch you. Promise. Do you want me to go back downstairs and leave you alone for a little bit?”

With a sharp intake of breath he quickly shakes his silver head, “ No. I do not wish to be alone. I... I need you,” he says your name, the cadence of it strained.

Nodding, you ask, “Can I sit on the floor here in front of you, then?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No.”

“Okay. I'm here for you. I’m freaked out and I’m worried about you but I’m here . I’m not going anywhere unless one of us needs space.”

“I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Moving slowly so as not to upset him, you lower down and cross your legs in front of you, sitting with your back straight and your hands on your knees much like in yoga. Looking up at him, you gently pat the area on the dark metal ground in front of you, beckoning him down to your level. You’re determined to get your guy to come back to you, even if for but a moment.

Then your face muscles strain as you try to send him an understanding smile, hoping he can read your expression and feel safe as you address his apology, “I'm not worried about that right now but thank you for apologizing. I know you didn't mean it. Do you think you can try breathing with me to get your rhythm back to normal? That shallow breathing you're doing is actually making the anxiety worse. I learned about this in therapy. Your thinking brain needs all the oxygen it can get right now. One trick to snap out of it is to do some breathing exercises to relax your nervous system. The idea is to make your brain realize you're safe in order to stop using the fight or flight response. I’m anxious too, and I think we need to calm down enough to really talk.”

Wordlessly and unceremoniously, Din slides forward from the pilot's seat and lands with a dense thud on the floor, moving to get into the same seated position as you. After a moment his head tilts up so his visor can finally meet your eyes.

Slowly, in and out through your nose, you take a few deep breaths and he audibly begins to mimic you. Gently, you explain, “What I want you to do is inhale for a count of four, hold it in for a count of four, exhale for a count of four, and then hold for another count of four. Then you do it all over again. We will do this for as long as you need to, but after a few rounds your body should start to relax. Feel free to close your eyes.”

Din nods, and for the first time since the day you first met him, his stiff and stoic beskar face suddenly has you completely thrown off your game. At an emotionally critical moment like this, seeing his real facial expression would help in so many ways. Without it you're not sure if you know how to gauge when the anxiety attack is ebbing away or how bad he truly is feeling. You want to feel certain that it's pretty fucking bad, though you're not sure if trusting your intuition is enough in this situation. You've become fluent in the body language of Din Djarin but, as you told him, you've never seen him like this before. These are uncharted waters, and it would certainly be a bit of a life raft to be able to look at him right now.

But would actually seeing his anguish truly help? Or would that just unnerve you even more? Would seeing real pain in those mythical brown eyes you try to imagine from time to time break your heart in a brand new way? Is your heart strong enough to withstand what something like that might look like?

Suddenly the barrier of beskar between the two of you feels like a brick wall, and you’re scared shitless when you look at him.

Ignoring yourself, the very notion of that feeling like a betrayal, you begin breathing with the box technique and he soon follows along fairly in tandem. Eyes slipping closed, your own body begins to relax into the feeling of it despite this being the most unrelaxed you think you could possibly feel.

After about eight or so rounds, Din's voice breaks through the uneasy silence which envelopes the cockpit, “That helped. Thank you. I feel a little more like myself now. Embarrassed, perhaps, but me again.”

Prying your eyes open, you see his body in a more relaxed position with his helmet's visor fixed right on you. You’re still feeling unnerved when you look at him, but you try your best to maintain the offered ‘eye contact’. “You're welcome. You sound a little more like yourself, but I’m still very worried about you right now, Din. I know you're not okay.”

He chuckles, the eerie sound of it devoid of any humor, “No, I am very much not.” Then his head shifts as his gaze moves to where the kid sits off to the side, and suddenly the low rumble below his chest plate is flooded with genuine humorous energy. “Look at our foundling, cyar'ika.”

Din’s sudden shift in mood has you on edge, hating the feeling of him reminding you of your past. One minute this to one minute that is what your home felt like growing up. Feeling that with Din now makes your heart sink a little, but logically you understand that though this may not be normal behavior for Din Djarin it is normal behavior for any human being going through something substantial.

Calming yourself with that knowledge, your gaze follows his. Head turning to see the child sitting crisscrossed just like you and Din, you truly cannot fight the little smile tugging at your mouth. The kid looks so mellow, big eyelids closed with his little hands at his knees as his ears lay in a relaxed position. From the looks of it he's fallen into a deep meditation, which isn't something new for him. He does it from time to time, and you’ve always assumed it has something to do with his powers.

Chuckling along with your cosmic companion, you momentarily gush, “God, he's so cute. He's the cutest kid in the whole universe. Not a single human baby holds a candle to our little guy.”

Din makes a choked noise, his visor still fixed upon the child. “I love him,” he says your name after this statement, the cadence of it so desperate as it rides the saddened tone of his voice. Then the kid's eyes pry open and he looks right at Din, who says directly to the child, “Maker forgive me. I love you so much, pal.”

Tears well in your eyes at that, unable to hold back the little quiver of your lip. “I know you do. I could see how much you love him the moment I met you both on Nevarro. I mean, I called you his dad that evening because it just always felt true. You love him as you would a child of your own, and that's obvious to just about everybody you meet.”

Din responds with a shaky voice, looking back at you, “He's felt like my child from the moment I first laid eyes on him. I can't explain it. That pram opened and I just felt connected to him for some reason. I tried to fight that feeling off, explain it away. Tried to tell myself the kid was not my problem just because I was the one who found him. But I think we both know how good I am at ignoring my feelings,” he says this last part sarcastically, with another humorless chuckle.

The self-deprecating way he says that causes you to frown, groaning a little in frustration. “I’m so tired of watching you beat yourself up over loving someone. Have you ever stopped to think that trying to ignore these feelings doesn't work because it's not natural to push it all away? I understand why you were so cautious of getting emotions too wrapped up in this, but I think that ship sailed a long time ago. Long before I came along.”

Silver pauldrons drooping as his shoulders slump, Din sighs, “I suppose you're right.”

A moment of silence falls between you and then you speak up again, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, love,” he replies.

Eyes narrowing slightly, you ask, “What was the plan for after you dropped out of hyperspace?”

He looks away, “I thought about changing our trajectory to somewhere else all together.”

With a surprised expression, you’re aware that you sound a little sarcastic, “Did you have a place in mind for this grand escape?”

“I don’t know. I do not know what I was thinking,” Din replies, then looks back at you for a long moment as he ‘eyes’ you up and down. “I am surprised that you're not encouraging me to do so anyway, though.”

With a raised eyebrow, you shoot him a very irritated look. “As the one who is strongly against this little trip to Corvus I do understand why you would say that, but I'm kind of offended that you assume I'd so readily encourage you to go against your creed.”

Din sighs, “I think a part of me is hoping you will convince me to.”

Now both of your eyebrows raise at that, a small amount of anger rising up your throat to meet your words. “ Wow . Is this why you called yourself a poor example of a Mandalorian?”

His head hangs, “Yes. I feel ashamed to wear this beskar for even thinking about going against the creed, so perhaps deep down the idea of you making that choice for me feels alluring.”

With a deep and pissed off frown, you find yourself doing one of the rarest things you’ve ever done to Din Djarin. You are scowling at the man, tongue razor sharp, “Are you fucking serious , Din? Do you know how fucking unfair that is? Making the choice for you is probably the craziest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I am not proud of the impulse,” he says defensively.

“So?" you bite back, "It still makes me feel so frustrated with you! I thought that you were braver than that, Din Djarin. My warrior, ner verd , is not a coward. Not the Mandalorian I know.”

“What is it that you mean to imply?” Din’s own ice cold frustration is now lacing his tone, replacing the hopelessness that had been there a moment ago.

“ I’m not implying anything. I’m just angry at you for putting that kind of weight on me when you know very damn well that I would have stopped this wild goose chase months ago given the chance. If I could have things my why we would have never left Nevarro after that beautiful week we spent together. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear you imply that you would just stop if I really tried to convince you? To imply that it would have been so easy this whole time? It feels like a betrayal of the trust I’ve extended to you when I have actively put your feelings about this above my own for months.”

Din’s voice waivers, anger still riding the tone of it despite the little falter you hear, “I never asked you to put my feelings above your own.”

Throwing your hands up in frustration, you're trying not to yell at him even though you want to. “You didn’t have to, dammit! I did that because I care about you. It’s wrong of you to hope I will suddenly become the selfish one so that you don’t have to be. I would never encourage you to make a decision that I think you would ultimately regret. If I acted on those feelings I would be acting against you .” As you pronounce that final syllable, the weight of it causes your eyes to mist over.

He sighs heavily, some of the tenseness ebbing away, “I can see that what I said was out of line. For that I apologize. But it’s how I feel, cyar’ika. It’s how I’ve been feeling for days.”

With a heavy sigh of your own, you feel your nerves relax slightly. You’re upset, but fundamentally it's with this situation more than it is with him. Aside from snipping, which you’re also entirely guilty of when in distress, he hasn’t truly committed any wrongs against you.

“I get that. I really do,” you eventually reply, “I was just taken aback. Even if I thought that begging you was an option, I would not humiliate myself by acting so childish about this. A person who acts on emotional impulses like that isn’t fit to be caring for a kid in the first place. I’m not going to say I feel like I can be a mother if I’m not actually mature enough to be one.”

Din sounds like he’s starting to truly feel embarrassed, "I shouldn’t have placed that pressure on you. I do not wish to disobey the creed, tempting as it may feel. It was a moment of weakness and I am not proud of it.”

Moving so that your legs are spread, you gesture for him to come sit so that you can hold him. Din scoots over, and the mass of him with all of his armor settles in between your knees before he's leaning back into you. He's laying with most of his body across the floor, but his upper back is against your stomach and his helmet rests against your breasts. With your arms coming to circle around his broad shoulders and hands resting on his chest plate, you lean in to place your right cheek against the cool beskar.

“Din Djarin, you do know that your dedication to your creed is one of the many reasons I admire you, right?”

“You've made comments as to that, yes,” he agrees, “but I still do not fully understand why.”

Settling in, you reply, “I wasn’t religious on Earth. My family tried to force their beliefs onto me as a kid but I never believed in their false values. You see, their religion’s message claims to be all about love thy neighbor and good will towards others, but then a lot of the people meant to be spreading these values are filled with so much hate. People like my grandmother, who claim to uphold their principles with grace and yet treat those who do not meet their expectations with a foul ugliness. You are the complete opposite of that to me. Even when you've had to kill because the nature of this lifestyle requires you to do so, I've never sensed real hatred or ugliness in you or your ideals. Ideals that, in all honesty, certainly line up very closely with my own. Loyalty, honor, family. For you, the creed is just about who you are as an individual, and if you're upholding your own values or not. You're not concerned with others' values unless it's someone close to you, and even then I don't mean that you're pushy about it. I just mean you're careful about who you let in.”

“Mm,” he hums in agreement, “that observation of me is sound.”

Hugging him tightly, your words flow freely, “The creed is so fascinating to me. Firstly, because it has nothing to do with worshiping a deity. Secondly, because you have never once tried to force anything you believe onto me. Thirdly, because watching you stay true to yourself even through all of this heartache has been both hard and beautiful. I wish you could see yourself from my perspective. You're a beautiful person, Din. You're strong, devoted, fucking hilarious, and the best partner I could ask for. I’ve never known anyone like you, and I mean that in the best way.”

“I appreciate that,” Din says quietly, “I appreciate everything you have to say.”

You're kissing the back of his helmeted head, breath from your nostrils fogging the cool surface as little warm lip marks pepper beskar. “You owe it to yourself, to the Mandalorian I know you are, to see this mission through to the end. I've come this far with you. I will go with you wherever we must go next. But we've gotten way too close to turn around now. Green Bean deserves to make his choice and you deserve to maintain your sense of honor. It breaks my heart every second of the day, but we have to carry on. We have to see this through as a family, even if we can’t be a permanent one.”

Din brings your hand up and presses it to where his lips are beneath the beskar, a kissing noise coming from within its confines as your flesh meets the cool glass-like material of the visor’s bottom half. “We will always be a family, even if we are not all together. Thank you for keeping me steady,” he says.

“Ratiin, ner burc'ya. Ni kar'taylir darasuum.”

“Ni kar'taylir darasuum. I fear I would be lost without you if I had to do this by myself.”

The two of you lay there for a long moment but when the kid rustles around and makes a chirping noise, you both begin to stir. Din gets up to his feet and offers you a hand. He uses it to help you up from the ground, pulling you into him for a proper hug once you're on your feet.

“I was waiting for the right occasion to give you something,” you say up to him cryptically, “and I think right now is the right occasion.”

“Mm?” Din hums curiously, tone much lighter than it had been when you first entered the cockpit.

Detaching yourself from Din, you move to lift up the child from his seat and dump him into Din's arms. Turning on your heel, you leave to climb back down to the first floor of the ship. “Stay up here for a sec,” you're calling after him as you run off through the open door.

*****

“You know what this is about, buddy?” Din asks the child in his arms, looking down into his large brown eyes. That fearful ache inside him from before is very much still present, just under control for the time being. He feels so grateful for your presence in his life right now, unsure of how he would be handling what just happened on his own. He's certainly felt anxiety before, but this ‘attack’ as you called it was frighteningly new for him. And an attack is very much how he would describe it if he had to. It came at him both from nowhere and everywhere, surrounding him. Besting him instantly.

It may be his most harrowing battle to date.

The child happily coos, and Din can't help but chuckle in spite of the heaviness within his chest, “Of course you do, don't you?” Brow furrowing beneath the beskar, Din adds, “I meant what I said, adika. I love you very much. It was wrong of me to consider abandoning this mission for selfish reasons. She's right, you deserve to choose your own fate.”

The kid nods, babbling his private little language up to Din as he makes a face Din cannot quite distinguish. The Mandalorian's heart both swells and breaks simultaneously.

Suddenly you’re rushing back into the cockpit looking delighted, and his curiosity is even more piqued. Din wasn’t sure what he’d expected when you’d run off, but he certainly wasn’t expecting you to place a tiny holoprojector into his gloved hand.

“What is this?” He asks curiously, turning the little black cube over a few times before looking at you. The thing seems like a very basic version of the same tech he's used in the past.

“A holoprojector,” you answer with excitement guiding your every movement, bouncing on the balls of your feet one foot at a time.

“I know that,” Din replies with a hidden smile, “I meant to ask what's on it. Usually these are round and a little bigger. Meant for sending and receiving images. I take it this thing lacks transmission capabilities and doesn't have a lot of space for much?”

“Just enough space for one hologram,” you agree, grabbing the device to turn it on before giving it back to him. “I bought this the same day I bought the reader pad. The kid and I wanted to give you a gift. You do so much for us. I thought it would be nice to show our appreciation. Some shop was offering what I, a mere Earthling, would describe as a photo shoot and this thing for a decent enough price. Green Bean and I love you so much, Din. No matter what happens on Corvus, we'd like you to always have a reminder of that to keep with you.”

Din's heart flutters when a grainy three-dimensional blue image of you posing with the child in your arms comes to life in his palm. The image is from the waist up. You look radiantly beautiful, giving your best smile. Your planet necklace from Smuggler's Moon is on display at the base of your throat, just above the loose round shirt collar. The kid looks so happy, dark eyes shining along with his wide grin and his ears pointed upwards. Both of your heads are titled in towards one another.

Chest swelling so greatly that he fears the chest plate of his armor may crack, Din feels himself swaying a little from the intensity of it. The kid squirms around in Din's grasp so that he's standing on Din's inner forearm, tiny arms splaying out as he puts all of his weight into gripping Din's upper chest in a big hug.

Cursing the fact that he's covered in so much beskar he cannot feel the pressure of the tiny foundling's embrace, Din sucks in a sharp breath. Almost knowingly, you move forward to gently take the holoprojector from him. At that moment Din has both arms around the child and he's tilting the helmet down to graze the foundling's wrinkled green head, silent tears flowing freely from his weary brown eyes.

*****

Corvus is gross. That's really the only way you can put it. According to Din, this planet was once beautiful. Industrial pollution and devastation have ruined most of the forest surrounding the small city of Calodan. The air is thick with a greenish smog which you can practically taste as soon as you're off the Razor Crest. Din landed the ship outside of the city limits far enough away for some privacy from the locals, so it's a short trek through desiccated woodlands to reach Calodan’s unwelcoming looking gates.

The city itself seems like a hell hole. Din keeps the kid somewhat hidden behind his cloak, the child riding in the satchel at Din's hip so you can both be on high alert. You're armed and ready, but for what you have no idea.

Upon getting let in by some sketchy looking mercenary named Lang, you and Din make your way through a city both in despair and disrepair. Its locals seem utterly petrified of everything, including Din when he tries to approach a family outside of their home. The reaction of the father is so intense, a lump forms in your throat after that.

You see why the citizens live in fear when the Magistrate's lackeys have you and Din dragged to her ridiculously lavish garden. On the way into her domain, you pass by a group of locals being kept like animals in the most inhumane electric cages you've ever seen. It's so horrifying to watch that you have to look away, and you can tell that the kid is equally disturbed at Din's hip. You would have preferred for him not to have seen that.

Once inside the obscenely contrast garden, you quickly realize that the woman Din is dealing with is pure evil. So you stay quiet and allow him to conduct his business with her. When she brings up needing help eliminating the Jedi who plagues her, your stomach drops. The vile lady brings Din a spear made of pure beskar, offering it to him as payment if he were to hunt and kill this Jedi for her.

Din wisely doesn't respond to this bargain, but leaves her unpleasant company in a way which suggests that he is going to take the job. You know Din well enough to know that he wants nothing to do with that woman, but he'd needed to get all of you out of there without making a fuss.

At the edge of the city, Lang looks down at the child on Din's hip with a curious sneer, “What is that thing anyway?”

The child glares at him and gurgles angrily.

“I keep it with me for good luck,” Din quips back, sounding both sarcastic and like he'd like to rip this obnoxious guy's head off.

You'd certainly like to do that yourself after hearing him refer to the kid as 'that thing'. The little glare the child sends up his way is definitely not lost on you, a smirk finding the corner of your mouth. Atta boy, kiddo.

As Din gestures for you to keep walking, the nasty little man shouts after your party, “You're gonna need it where you're headed!”

Trudging through the ruined wasteland of a forest, you're staying mostly quiet at Din's side while he navigates. For one thing, everything about being on this planet has you feeling miserable. Polluted, gray-green air. A woodland that must have once been beautiful is now infected by greed and capitalism. Innocent citizens being treated like meat in those awful cages. A Magistrate who clearly needs to meet her comeuppance sooner rather than later. That village is an awful feeling place and you hope to never have any reason to go back. Being there is like an exaggerated version of all the worst things about Earth.

On top of all of this, a Jedi seems to be just around the corner. Every step further into the forest feels like a step further away from your family, and that feeling has you completely cornered at the moment.

Din must notice your silence, because he looks over his shoulder at you in a gesture which you read as curious but with a splash of worry. “You're uncharacteristically quiet, love,” he observes.

“I just hate this planet,” you respond honestly, “being here is unpleasant for a multitude of reasons.”

“I relate to that senti-,” Din begins but is quickly cut off by an attack from above.

You can only watch in stunned horror as an alien woman suddenly appears out of thin air, two swords made of glowing beams of light striking directly into Din's armor. His beskar blocks the attack easily, but now a fight is abruptly breaking out between your cosmic companion and some stranger. A stranger you are willing to bet is the Jedi your party is reluctantly looking for. She's undeniably beautiful, and perhaps the most interesting alien species you've encountered thus far. Almost like a twi’lek in the sense that she has fleshy protuberances in lue of hair, but she’s also completely unique in every way.

Flamethrowers and whipchords are expertly used on her by your warrior, but the woman easily gets out of these attacks by moving her body with the same sort of ease and grace as Jupiter. The cat-like movements are certainly impressive, but worry for Din is your only concern right now.

After flipping over a branch she draws her light-swords again, and Din suddenly stops fighting with his arms raised in the air.

“Ahsoka Tano!” Din shouts with a blaster in one hand, the other hand held out in a surrendering motion. At the sound of her own name, the woman halts. Din quickly adds, “Bo-Katan sent me! We need to talk.”

The Jedi woman's gaze finally moves past Din and lands upon the child in your arms. Slowly, she moves to a normal standing position and disables her swords. It looks as if the light gets sucked up into the hilt. She then tilts her fleshy head curiously, sounding almost delighted in a way, “I hope it's about him .”

*****

“Your pacing has me on edge,” your voice quietly slices through both the ambient night-sounds of the desiccated forest and the uneasy racing thoughts of an increasingly worried Din Djarin.

Din's feet stop moving for the first time in twenty minutes, and he looks down at you apologetically. “Sorry,” he says quietly, moving to sit down beside you on the long rock you've been perched on.

“No need to be sorry,” you say, shooting what he interprets to be an apologetic look in your own way. “I just needed you to stop for a second.”

So stop he does... until his left knee starts bouncing a mile a minute. Then he feels your right hand come to press into the area of his thigh not covered by beskar. Again, this seems to do the trick of grounding him for only but a moment.

“She hasn't said a word, yet they've been at this for nearly two hours,” Din remarks. “I feel like I'm going crazy .”

“I think she’s communicating with him using the Force,” you say, eyeing him for a moment before looking back over to the Jedi and the kid with an anxious expression. “Can they do that? Is that a Jedi thing?”

Din shrugs in response, at a loss.

You shake your head, “All I know is, I feel incredibly judged whenever she looks over at us like that.”

Din follows your gaze and the scene of the two of them, faces lit by the lantern's soft orange glow with a full moon backdrop behind them, sends a shiver up his spine. Just as you said, Ahsoka looks over at the two of you briefly and Din’s blood runs a little cold. Suddenly all of this feels more real than it did a moment ago, his chest tightening.

After a few more moments of silence, Ahsoka Tano rises from her seat and gathers the child in her arms. As she begins heading back over, Din shoots up from his seat to anxiously meet them halfway. You get up and follow close behind him.

Ahsoka sits the lantern down on a small rock, followed by the kid on a slightly bigger one. She takes a seat to the kid's left and looks up at the two of you patiently.

Then she and the kid eye one another for another long moment. A small smile creases her lips and forehead, the white patterns of skin surrounding her clay-tan face altering.

Din feels desperate to know what is going on, asking, “Is he speaking? Do you... understand him?”

Ahsoka looks down at the child, tucking her hands into the pockets of her thick gray poncho. “In a way,” she says evenly. Then she looks up at Din, adding, “Grogu and I can feel each other's thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Both foster parents say this in unison. Din hears you sound just as shocked as he does.

The kid's head whips up at the two of you as little noises erupt from his tiny mouth, big dark eyes crinkling happily.

“Yes,” the Jedi responds, “That is his name.”

Din feels the name out along his tongue once again, a warmth spreading through him as he pronounces the two syllables slowly, “Gro-gu.”

Again, the kid's ear's perk up and his head whips up to look at the person who said his name. His name . Not just 'the kid' anymore. Not Green Bean. Not adika. Grogu .

Din says it once again for good measure, chuckling a little at how happy it makes the child. “I like it. It sounds like you, kid.”

Agreeing from beside Din, you move to squat down and grab for one of the kid’s tiny hands with a loving smile gracing your lips. “I like it too. You have a wonderful name, Grogu. Very handsome and distinguished.”

“What else did you learn about him?” Din asks the Jedi woman.

She takes a controlled breath, that stoic energy of hers unfaltering as she relays the requested information. “He was raised in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant where he was trained by many Jedi Masters. After the Clone Wars, when the Empire rose to power, he was taken from the temple and hidden away. From there his memory becomes... dark. Filled with much fear. That fear only starts to subside when the two of you begin caring for him. Then the fear morphs into something else.” As she says this last sentence, her tone is laced with something Din cannot place.

“Have you met another of his species?” You inquire from Din's side.

“I have only known one other like him. A wise and powerful Jedi known as Grand Master Yoda,” Ahsoka replies, meeting the child's glance when a look of recognition washes over Grogu's face. Did the kid know this grand master?

From there she asks if the child can still wield the Force, to which Din replies to clarify that she indeed means the kid's powers. She explains that the power Din speaks of is being drawn from the Force, which she describes as an energy field created by all living things. The concept of it makes little sense to Din, but many things have made little sense to him ever since Grogu came into his life.

She tells the group that wielding the Force takes a tremendous amount of training and discipline.

Din responds by saying that his task was to bring Grogu to a Jedi.

“The Jedi Order fell a long time ago,” Ahsoka replies.

“So did the Empire yet it's still out there, working in secret. It must be the same for your people,” Din argues, gesturing to the kid as he feels himself getting frustrated. “He needs your help.”

*****

The kid's been looking very tired for the last couple of minutes or so, eyes slipping closed for longer than a blink here and there. When he and Ahsoka clearly share another moment of feeling each other's thoughts, she lets out a long sigh and shakes her head. The look comes off as if she doesn't like or agree with this situation one bit.

Join the club, sister , you can't help but think. Ahsoka's eyes flick to yours the moment the thought leaves your brain, unsettling you more than anything you've seen today. She looks at you as if she heard you think that.

After a moment, she looks away and declares that Grogu should sleep, and that she will test his abilities in the morning.

Din gets up and scoops the child into his arms, nodding down to Ahsoka, “Thank you for speaking with him. We've waited months to know anything about his past.”

“Especially his name,” you interject with a yawn as you stand to join them.

Looking you up and down for a long moment, Ahsoka regards you curiously. “May we speak before you retire?” The Jedi asks, surprising both you and Din as noises of shock manage to escape from you both simultaneously.

Nervously, you ask, “Why do you want to talk to me of all people?”

“A feeling,” she replies simply.

“A feeling about what?” Din asks, tone concerned.

Ahsoka ignores Din's question, continuing to look only at you. “What planet are you from? It is not of this galaxy, is it?”

“No, it's not. Did Grogu tell you that?”

“He didn't have to. I could sense it when we first met. I must ask you, are there force sensitive individuals on your planet?”

“Ha, they wish. Not that I am aware of. From what I understand no one on Earth has special abilities.”

“Not even you? Or someone close to you perhaps?”

“Absolutely no-,” you start to scoff. But a feeling of realization dawns on you, and suddenly you're remembering everything your grandfather told you back on Tatooine. “Actually there is someone. But I don't know if I believe that he's what you would describe as force sensitive.”

“Cyar'ika, do you mean Richard?” Din asks, and you nod at him with a small frown before looking back to Ahsoka.

“The reason I am in this galaxy is because my grandfather built a device which used the energy of a black hole to transport us here from Earth. I don't even truly know how far away we are, I just know it's far . My world does not have the technology for long term space travel like most do here. We are very behind when it comes to that sort of thing. What my grandfather built is completely unorthodox. He shouldn't have even been able to build it in the first place, let alone conceptualize it. But he told me that ever since he was a little boy he's had dreams of this galaxy. Vivid dreams as if he were really here himself. As he got older he began to feel like these were not dreams at all. When compared to how the other people around him dreamed, what was happening to him during sleep each night was not that whatsoever. He felt that he was seeing a window into another part of the universe. One that made more sense to him than the one we came from. Does any of this even make sense?”

“I am following. Please continue,” Ahsoka says kindly, gesturing with a bow of the head.

“He told me that he eventually began to journal every morning to create a faithful record of his nightly visits with as much fine detail as he could remember. Eventually he became a brilliant scientist and a talented engineer. It took decades of his life but he eventually figured out the formula for how to make his machine work using what he learned in his visions. After he came here he learned of the Force and felt that was the explanation for why he dreamed of this place. He feels he is connected to it somehow and it guided his way here, but that's all he's said about it. No powers from what I can tell.”

“And do you agree with this?” Ahsoka asks.

“I honestly didn't know what to think about it when he told me this, but it's just as good an explanation as any I suppose.”

“Have you ever experienced similar dreams?”

“I don't think so, but I don't remember every dream I've had either.”

Ahsoka regards you for a long moment, contemplating. “At the Jedi temple there was speculation of the Force stretching far beyond the reach of just this galaxy. The Force is a part of the entire universe, and therefore the Force is present in the entire universe. The Jedi merely believe that we are the first ones to learn to wield it. It is only logical that early stages of Force sensitivity are beginning to appear on worlds that have no knowledge yet of its existence.”

Din gestures to you as he asks Ahsoka, “So could her grandfather learn to do what you and Grogu can do? We've seen Grogu do things that we cannot explain.”

Ahsoka shakes her head, “One must train to wield the Force from a very young age. If this individual is old enough to be a grandfather then he is too old to learn. And I believe that whatever connection he may have with the Force is not the same as what Grogu or I experience. It may not even be the same as what you experience,” the woman says your name as she addresses you.

“I'm very certain that I have no connection to the Force at all,” you reply confidently.

“Then explain why I can sense you in the way I can sense Grogu,” Ahsoka bites back just as confidently. “I cannot sense your Mandalorian this way. He is there, but his presence in the force is not pulsating like yours is.”

“Pulsating?” With a scoff and a wave of the hand, you readily dismiss her claims, “I can't explain something that isn't true.”

Grogu makes a little noise as if he's hurt by what you're saying, and your head whips over to him in concern.

“Ah,” Ahsoka says with a knowing little smirk, her blue eyes shining, “ there it is.”

“There what is?” you reply defensively, thinking idly in the back of your head that you're starting to sound like Din.

“You could feel Grogu just now, couldn't you?” The Jedi asks, her expression knowing.

“When he got upset? I could tell, yes. I'm his caregiver and I have been for months. I can tell lots of things about him. It's not the Force. It's because I've gotten to know who he is as a developing person.” As you finish this you’re shaking your head.

Ahsoka is shaking her own head in the negative, “He got upset because he doesn't want you to dismiss this connection to the Force as it is also a part of your connection to him . You merely need to learn to understand it. Not to wield it, as I do not think it is like something to be wielded, but to fully understand it.”

“What are you saying?”

“Have you always been able to sense the feelings of others?”

“I... I don't know how to answer that.” Thinking back to your childhood, you could always tell when your parents were about to get into a big fight. Anytime their emotions were heightened it felt as if the house was crashing down around you from the pressure of it. You'd just grown to assume that their volatile relationship forced you to become very good at reading the room to avoid any second hand abuse. Perhaps this trait followed you into adulthood, but it's never been something you stopped to consider until now.

Ahsoka’s eyes narrow slightly, as if she’s trying to figure you out. “Do you feel it took you a long time to get to know Grogu? To understand his needs accurately?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I suppose not. He and I were on the same page almost immediately.”

Ahsoka turns her attention to Din, “Do you feel this observation is correct?”

He nods, looking back and forth between both women, “I recall being surprised by how quickly they bonded, but I equated it to her natural maternal instincts.”

“Yeah, I just always assumed it was because of that too,” you agree, brow furrowing as you consider the possibilities of what Ahsoka is implying. “Even with other kids I've watched I just felt like I always knew exactly what they needed from me. But with Green Bea-shoot, I mean Grogu , it definitely feels like our connection is stronger than any I've shared with another child.”

“Another indication,” Ahsoka says, “That name you called him when you had nothing else. Do you not agree that the cadence of it sounds similar? It even begins with the same sound.”

Now you're really scoffing at the Jedi woman, “Oh don't be ridiculous. I call him that because he's green and it was a cute little nickname.”

Grogu again seems distressed, and both women stop to look at him for a moment.

Ahsoka meets your eyes as she goes on, “Or perhaps it is subconsciously what your brain conjured when Grogu wanted to share his name with you? He showed me the memory. He was trying very hard to communicate with you that day, and he used a great deal of his power to try and make you feel his name.”

“I... Are you serious?” You're dumbfounded as you glance at the child again.

“Very,” she replies evenly.

Looking at Grogu, mouth slightly agape, you cannot quite believe what you are being told. “Well I got close, sweetie,” you tell him with a shaky little laugh, halfhearted smile trying its best to reach your eyes. This revelation has you feeling exhausted suddenly.

“And what of you two?” Ahsoka is looking between you and Din with a curious expression.

“What do you mean to imply?” Din asks, voice on the edge of being defensive as he comes to stand closer to you.

Considering the possibilities of this, your body sinks back down onto a rock, facial muscles going slack with shock. “I think she means did any of this play a factor in how we ended up romantically entangled. I worry the answer is yes now that I really think about it.”

“Grogu told me that your Mandalorian will not remove his helmet in front of another living being, including you,” the Jedi says to you, and then to Din, “A Child of the Watch, I believe?”

Frowning, your voice drops a little, “And you feel that I have been able to sense his feelings this whole time and that is why we are close regardless of that factor?”

“It certainly couldn't have hurt,” Ahsoka replies knowingly, and you cannot help but sense that she is purposefully trying to get you to feel that knowing glance. Not to just see it and interpret it. The fact that you even understand that from her is a little mind boggling.

Could this truly be something that you've never known about yourself? Would this explain odd things from your past? Could this actually be real?

“This is a lot to take in,” you say, heavy waves of exhaustion flowing through you. Din's hand is on your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze, so you reach up and touch the light tips of his gloved fingers.

“As I said, this is not so much an ability you can wield. Think of it as an extension of yourself you did not realize was there. But I understand that this is a bit daunting. We can discuss this further in the morning,” the Jedi says wisely, dipping her head in a kind nod.

*****

On the Razor Crest, the air is so thick with tension that it feels impossible to move through the space comfortably. Once the sleeping kid is tucked away in his little hammock, the two adults take to the second floor of the ship to speak without disturbing him.

Driven to tears, a sob escapes your throat as you throw yourself down in your seat. Drawing your feet up on the leather so that you can hug your knees, you take the opportunity to bury your cries into the meat of your thighs.

As Din makes sure everything looks good on the Crest's controls, he then flops down into the pilot's seat and spins around to face you.

“I'm sorry,” Din says lamely. “I know that this news of Force sensitivity is disconcerting. I want you to know that it makes no difference to me. You know me better than anyone, and if the Force helped that along then all I can do is thank it.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Din. But it's not just that. The Force thing I can deal with, if I even believe it. Which is something I'm still trying to figure out. It's Grogu , Din. I don't want to say goodbye to him tomorrow.” After you say this, another great sob escapes you and you're forced to muffle it in your thighs again, body quaking.

He sighs, “I feel responsible for this misery.”

“It is not your fault. I broke the number one rule in any caregiver job. I became too emotionally attached to my client. And my client's dad. Christ, Fran Drescher eat your heart out,” you say this last part with a cynical laugh as you wipe at your nose with your sleeve.

“I'm too tired to handle Earth references right now, cyar'ika,” Din croaks out weakly, slumping down in his seat.

“Humor is my coping mechanism,” you reply with a halfhearted shrug, waving him off. “Just ignore me.”

Din shakes his head fiercely, “Ignoring you would be cruel. I do not wish to be cruel to you when we're both this vulnerable. I already feel responsible enough for your pain and I do not intend to cause any more. I tried not to let things get this far, but admittedly I didn't try very hard. As much as I preached about not playing happy family... about not getting too attached... you know I was just as guilty of doing it myself. I am both weak to my desires and a hypocrite, as it would seem.”

Shaking your own head in the negative, a deep frown creasing your tear-stained face, you counter with, “I don't consider any of the last nine months, nearly ten now, to be 'playing family', Din. What I have with the two of you is the realest thing I've ever felt in my life.”

Din sighs, head dropping, “I misspoke. Perhaps I am the one who should be ignored.”

A sigh of your own falls from your lips, shoulders slumping, “Neither of us is going to be ignored tonight. I feel sensitive so I picked apart your words and that's not fair. For that I'm sorry. We need each other now more than ever.”

“You know that 'playing' is not how I see this. It's just hard to string thoughts together right now.” Then Din's voice waivers, and you can hear that he's fighting weeping when he speaks again. Or did you 'sense' that? “This is probably our last night with him, cyar'ika. The thought of it... I do not think I have felt a pain like this before.” As he says this he begins rubbing the chest plate over his heart.

“It hurts for me that way too. It's like this searing burn. Right here, right?” You point to the area right between your breasts. He nods, and you're really contemplating the possibility that what Ahsoka said about you is true. Are the two of you experiencing similar pain, or does your empathy truly run that deep? What a strange notion. Then you add, “And the pain is draining down into your stomach, making you feel almost nauseous?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Din makes an indistinguishable noise, the helmet looking at you with an energy you don't recognize. It comes off as so defeated, and that's something you cannot abide.

Getting up to move towards him, you're placing a hand on either arm rest as you lean over him a little. “We are strong . We both know how to lose people. But this is hard . Maybe one of the hardest things either of us has ever had to grapple with. It's not going to be easy, but I do think that together you and I can find our way out of how shitty this feels one day. Things can't feel shitty forever. You're worth every ounce of patience I have to give. I hope you'll show me the same in return.”

“I will,” he breathes, modulator hissing.

“I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight, but I say we go get in the cot and just be close to our boy while we still can.”

Din's hands find your waist, gripping slightly as his helmet tips upwards to allow for the visor to meet your eyes. “Before we retire, I need to thank you. I know you do not want any of this to happen, yet you've handled yourself with such grace. Your respect for my creed is, as always, appreciated more than you know. You may not walk the way but you are just as formidable as any Mandalorian woman I've come across, if not more. That warrior’s heart of yours is the strongest muscle in your body, ner cyare.”

Moving so that your forehead softly butts into his for a kiss, tears cannot help but re-form in your eyes as you softly utter the words, “This is The Way.”

The helmet's modulator hisses with the little gasp you hear hitch in his throat, his body reacting along with it. First there's the little flinch of surprise, then his arms swiftly move to envelope your hips and the firm metal of his helmet comes to rest against your abdomen. He squeezes you, and as your hands move to lay upon the silver beskar which clouds your only love's surely anguished face from you, his clearly anguished voice whispers, “This is The Way.”

*****

The next day Ahsoka Tano is waiting outside of the Razor Crest as the three would-be family members emerge. After a restless night, both adults are feeling completely miserable as they greet the Jedi from halfway down the ramp. Grogu seems to be in good enough spirits though, babbling at the Jedi woman as she greets him with a squeeze of the hand and a bow of her head.

“Good morning, Grogu,” she offers warmly to the child in Din's arms, a smile finding her intensely blue eyes. Then those eyes move to the two adults, nodding in greeting. “I trust neither of you slept well by the looks of it.”

“How could you guess?” You reply sarcastically from Din's side.

In a rare moment of understanding your need to lighten the mood, Din says to you in a sarcastic tone of his own, “It's obviously the bags under my eyes.”

At that, you snort loudly, letting out a short bark of a laugh, shoving at his shoulder a little. The kid giggles against Din's chest as the Force of the shove causes Din to rock backwards a bit. He finds himself grinning despite the misery in his heart, and for the first time he really does understand that with you by his side he will eventually overcome this loss. His life will not be without joy, even if it has to be without the child.

The white markings which frame Ahsoka's face alter shape slightly when her brow shoots up, an amused smile finding her lips as she observes the display. After a moment, she beckons the group to follow her deeper into the forest.

Soon back to the area they were in the night before, Ahsoka leads them over to the mossy rocks and fallen trees. Its bright green color is a stark contrast to the desolation surrounding it, making the patch of land feel oddly beautiful.

Ahsoka turns to face Din, though her attention is on Grogu the whole time as she says, “Now let's see what knowledge is lurking inside that little mind.” With a delicate finger to the kid's nose and then a hand resting on his chest for a moment, the way she smiles down at him indicates to Din that she's communicating with him again.

She separates herself, gesturing for Grogu to be sat down on a large rock. Din obliges, and when he squats to sit Grogu down he rubs his back in an encouraging little gesture of 'you got this, pal' without verbally saying it. Considering everything he learned about the Force the night before, Din feels confident that the kid understands.

Lifting up from the squat, Din comes to stand next to you a few feet away from them. When he reaches your side he notices your eyes are a little wet as you turn to look up at him. Din reaches for your hand, holding tightly once his gloved fingers find yours. Little do you know his eyes are just as wet beneath his helmet. Not only do you hold his hand in return, you adhere yourself to it. He squeezes it fervently, hoping that you can also feel his intention through the Force like Grogu.

With you by his side, Din watches Ahsoka pick up a small rock and hold it in the palm of her hand. She then flips her hand and holds it straight upright, the rock floating in midair as she pushes the thing towards Grogu. It slowly floats into his hands and he chirps.

“Now return the stone to me, Grogu,” she orders, hand out.

He looks down at the stone and frowns, looking back up to the adults with worry in his eyes.

Din also frowns, offering lamely, “He doesn't understand.”

“There's no way he doesn’t,” disagreeing with a shake of the head, you add, “we've seen him move stuff around with his mind plenty of times. Grogu, don't be shy sweetie, it's okay.”

Ahsoka's face is soft as she says, “It's okay. The stone, Grogu.”

Din looks at the kid and then nods sideways towards the Jedi woman encouragingly. Come on, kid. You got this.

Grogu suddenly makes a noise of frustration and drops the stone all together. You make a noise beside Din, eyes flicking to him before back to the child with worry. Ahsoka sighs and walks forward, each movement of her body so graceful as she squats down to hold Grogu's hand.

Eyes slipping closed, she remarks that she can sense much fear in the child. “He's had to hide his abilities to survive over the years. But the fear I sense in him comes from a different place... let's try something else. Come over here,” she commands.

The kid doesn't move, and Din motions for him to go over to Ahsoka with a nod of the head in her direction again. Still he doesn't move, looking down with a frown. “He's stubborn,” Din says, at a loss for why Grogu is suddenly being so shy about his powers.

“Not him,” Ahsoka replies, gaze turning to Din, “You. Both of you. I want to see if he will listen to you two.”

You meet Din's gaze through the visor, nodding to him as he leads the two of you to where the Jedi stands patiently waiting.

Handing him the stone, Ahsoka gives an encouraging nod.

Din holds his hand out, “Come on, kid. Lift the stone.”

“Grogu,” Ahsoka says into Din's beskar covered ear.

“Grogu,” Din repeats, and the little noise the kid makes is so sweet that Din wants to give this whole thing up and run back to the Crest with the child in his arms. To tell this Jedi lady never mind and high tail it the hell out of there. But instead he forces himself to say, “come on, Grogu. Lift the stone.”

The kid still refuses.

A deep frown creases your brow, shaking your head as your voice takes on a worried tone. “Yes, he's stubborn sometimes, but so is every child. This isn't like him, Din.”

“Connect with him,” Ahsoka interjects, “I have seen the way you two are with him. Be that way now.”

“Wait, I have an idea,” Din says, digging into the pocket of his utility belt for the silver ball from the cockpit. He'd found it earlier that morning and forgot that he'd shoved it in his pocket until now. “Grogu, you want this? Your favorite toy, buddy?”

Grogu's little green face perks up at that, ears lifting.

“Oh good idea! Come on, Grogu. Take it,” you're encouraging from Din's side with that kind, loving smile of yours directed at the foundling.

After a moment of hesitation, Grogu uses the Force to take the ball from Din's hand. Both adults cheer and hug one another before moving down on one knee to praise him, each telling the kid they knew he could do it with loving little pats on either tiny shoulder.

And that's when Ahsoka suddenly declares gravely, “I cannot train him.”

Both adults stand to attention.

“What?!” Din exclaims, mouth going slack under the helmet.

“But he just did the thing you wanted him to do,” you argue with a confused tone, brows knitting.

Ahsoka shakes her head, “He's formed a strong attachment to you two. His attachment makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger .”

Din can't wrap his head around this at all. “All the more reason to train him.”

Ahsoka looks scandalized. “ No! I have seen first hand what these feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight! To the best of us...”

As she lets this last bit trail off, Din can't help but feel that she's drawing from a deep well of private pain and he relates to that anguish in her face. It's only there for a moment, but it's heavy. He knows the searing pain of loss when he sees it.

Her voice returns to a more neutral tone as she shakes her head, stating firmly, “I will not start this child down that path.”

“Please help us to understand, then,” you plea in return, eyes flicking over to meet Din's helmeted gaze every now and again. He reads the worry in your furrowed brow, but in your eyes the gleam of hope is unmistakable.

Din's own hope is beginning to swell in his heart, but he tries his best to sound calm about it as he says, “My task was to return him to the Jedi. If you are going to refuse I need to know why.”

Ahsoka sighs, looking away from everyone for a moment as she turns her back to them. With her hands clasped at the small of her back, the Togruta woman's impressive striped lekku on display, she takes several deep and calming breaths. Then she turns to face Din and his family once again with a serious expression weighing on her striking features.

“Jedi must free themselves of possession and attachment. Attachment is antithetical to the Jedi way of life. When one becomes attached to something or someone, one begins to fear losing what they have found. Fear of that loss can lead to jealousy, greed, anger, negativity. Negative feelings are normal. All feelings are normal. As Jedi we learn to feel through our emotions and move on. We do not let them consume. When a Jedi becomes a slave to their feelings, it can lead them down the path to the dark side of the Force.” Ahsoka's face becomes grim as she ends her speech with a firm statement of, “I would not wish that fate upon any child.”

“What makes you think he would become a slave to these feelings?” Din asks defensively.

Ahsoka's blue eyes narrow in Din's direction. “Because, Mandalorian, he already is! You and her have corrupted this child with so much love and affection that he cannot bear to be separated from it! I told you I sense much fear in him. Grogu is absolutely terrified that I'm going to take him away from you two. Even though I have already assured him that I am not .”

The look on your face is so filled with relief that you seem suddenly younger almost, the life finding your eyes again as a smile slowly creeps up your lips. Din can hear the joyful surprise in your voice, asking the Jedi, “You're not? ”

Ahsoka's face softens as well, her own lips curving upward as she nods once towards you, “I am not.” Then to Din she says, “And I never was.”

Din's a little taken aback by that statement. “What do you mean?”

“Grogu showed me last night that he does not wish to resume his Jedi training. He feels that path is no longer the one the Force has set him on.”

Din looks at the kid, frowning under the beskar as he looks him over. The little guy looks almost scared, like he's worried about the reaction this news will receive. Gently, Din asks him, “Grogu? Is that true?”

Grogu looks away as if he's ashamed of himself for a moment, or embarrassed in some way. Din moves to crouch down in front of him and you're soon coming to squat down as well.

“Sweetie, it's okay,” you soothe the child, “no one is upset with you and you're not in trouble.”

The motherly voice you've taken on is not lost on Din whatsoever, his heart swelling at the sound of it. His own tone softens more as he assures the child, “Yeah, buddy. We are not mad at you. This choice was always yours to make. It was my job to get you here so you could choose.”

Grogu's little face looks relieved, and at that he begins reaching for the two of you with little babbles and coos.

When you both grab for one of his tiny hands, Ahsoka declares, “You are like parents to him. Grogu showed me these feelings last night in great detail. He allowed me to view a glimpse of the life he has lived with the two of you. This child hasn't felt this happy or safe in a very long time. In Grogu's eyes, you are his mother and father. With you he is home.”

Din's so overcome with love, eyes slipping closed for a moment as the information sinks in. The reality of it. His deepest wish, the thing he's secretly yearned for for months... is suddenly the true outcome of this long quest after all? Maker, his heart wasn't prepared.

Then he hears you asking, “If you never intended to train him, why the test of his abilities?”

Din's eyes open as Ahsoka is explaining, “It was necessary for me to see how much he can still wield the Force, as well as the validity of the attachment between all of you.”

“And your conclusion?” Din asks.

Her smile is genuine, “The three of you are a family. One I believe to be brought together by the workings of the Force. A unit not meant to be broken. At least, not for a very long time.”

“This is music to my ears,” you're happily saying to yourself, a hand to your chest.

“There is one other reason for the test,” Ahsoka addresses Din as she speaks, “Grogu wanted me to ensure that you upheld your oath. He showed me how important your Mandalorian creed is to you, and he did not want you to feel as if your mission was a failure.”

Chest swelling, Din looks right at the kid as he declares, “Nothing about this quest was a failure, Grogu.” Dank farrik , if only the kid could see the pure joy on Din's face right now.

“Thank you, Ahsoka,” you say genuinely.

She gives a single, graceful bow of the head. “I have delayed too long. I must return to the village.”

“The Magistrate hired me to kill you,” Din declares as she begins to turn to walk off. As those words leave his mouth, she stops in her tracks and turns to him with a raised brow. “Offered me a spear made of beskar as payment. I did not agree to anything. For your help with understanding the kid, with Grogu , I will help you eliminate her before we depart.”

*****

You have no interest in joining a fight right now, so when Din asks you if you'd be okay with taking Grogu home to the Razor Crest while he and Ahsoka take care of the awful Magistrate back in the city you're thrilled to agree. Imagining the beautiful Jedi facing off with the evil woman in her very Kill Bill Zen garden, with a lightsaber in place of a katana, a smile can't help but form on your lips at the grizzly mental image.

And so the two of them construct a plan while you lovingly cradle Grogu to your chest, humming one of his favorite Earth songs to him. Din eventually shares a meaningful embrace with each of you, and then both parties set out to go their separate ways.

As you and the kid are making your way back to the Space RV alone, a stray thought comes to mind. Are you really ready for this? Do you have what it takes to do right by this kid?

A weird moment of fear strikes your heart at that, enough to stop you in your tracks. Grogu makes a little noise at you from his perch in the satchel and when you look down at him it hits you that you really are going to be his mother now.

Ahsoka Tano, a real Jedi what-have-you, has declared it to be so herself. Grogu readily agrees, according to her testimony. You still can’t shake how strange it felt to watch her silently communicate with him. A small pang of jealousy surfaces at the memory of it, wanting to be able to listen to his coherent thoughts in the same way. Feel them , as she had put it. Perhaps it's a skill you can build with practice if what she claims about you is really true.

From what you gather, you’ll never be able to ‘wield’ it like Grogu, but perhaps you can teach yourself to understand your connection to the Force and how it relates to your connections to others. Dramatic as it may sound, you’ve always felt like you can see the best and worst in people whether they try to hide it or not. But that’s not something you ever attributed to any sort of otherworldly ability. It always just felt like you would get a hunch about someone’s feelings or intentions and be right about it. Sometimes this works in your favor and other times it can cause complete chaos. Your accuracy record isn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, either. You’ve been wrong plenty of times, but you’ve also been correct enough to feel that perhaps Ahsoka’s observation of you is not false after all. Perhaps you do have some minor form of an ability.

It’s just so bizarre to think that there’s anything different about you at all. Back on Earth you idolized sci-fi stories and characters with special abilities, always pining for a life like that. To realize that in a little less than a year you’ve gotten the chance to live out what was once your heart’s deepest desire in nearly every aspect, that’s enough to make your head spin.

But your heart’s deepest desire has evolved just as much as you have in the last ten months. Now when you close your eyes to dream of a life you feel satisfied with, a Mandalorian and a green child stand by your side. That same green child who is perched at your hip as you walk towards home, the green child who thinks of you as his parent.

The fear you felt a moment ago is what you assume most new parents feel on their first day. But this isn't your first day. You aren’t new at this. You’ve been with this kid for a long while. He’s felt like your son for the last couple of months now, so why the sudden trepidation? Is it because now it's actually real ? Ahsoka called the three of you a true family. Unlikely loved ones brought together by the mysterious ways of the Force. A unit that is not meant to be broken.

The intensity of what you feel now is unmeasured. After months of looking for a Jedi. After months of fearing the loss, the pain, and the suffering that would inevitably follow. After months of constantly worrying that this loss would drastically alter the dimensions of your relationship with Din. After months of trying to mentally prepare for unimaginable heartbreak... suddenly that heartbreak isn’t going to happen?

The truth is… you hadn't really planned for this outcome. No matter how hard you may have wished for it.

Back on Earth you'd been starting to worry that a child was never going to make sense for you. It always seemed so far off in the future. A distant dream. As you told Din once, adopting a child was something you saw yourself doing if you had the right partner to raise one with. But between dead-end relationships and dead-end jobs, the idea of it seemed pretty impossible by the time you ended up in this galaxy.

Now you have this beautiful little boy in your life and he's asked to be your son, for you to love him as your child. As you've said many times in the recent past, you would become his mother in a heartbeat. Now that heartbeat of opportunity hits like a great thunderclap all around you, shaking the very ground beneath your feet. All at once you know it to be true in your bones, that this is the course you’re meant to be on.

So the question now is where do you all go from here? You and Din are going to need to have a very serious conversation about what the future holds, but none of that really matters in this singular moment. Not when the child at your hip has acknowledged that he loves you as a mother to him.

"Grogu?" You ask him tentatively, the name still feeling a bit foreign on your tongue. The way he whips his little head to smile up at you when you use his name causes your chest to swell. Removing him from the satchel, you gently place him down on a big mossy rock in order to squat at eye level with him. "So you really do want me to be your mom, huh kiddo?"

He makes one of his little 'patu' noises in response to you, bowing his head in a single nod.

Okay, then. If it's a mom he wants, it's a mom he's going to get. Time to pull on those metaphorical mom jeans and talk to him like he really is your child.

"Grogu, sweetie, I want you to know that I am aware of how hard all of this has been on you. Constantly moving around. Having to hear me and your dad argue about your future. Being in danger half the time. I'm sure it was really scary and confusing, buddy. It was scary and confusing for us too. But I think that before you met Din, you'd been even more scared and confused. For a long time it sounds like. I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry that you had to ever be put in this situation in the first place. I'm sorry you've had to see so much ugliness in your young life."

The way he looks at you with such understanding in his big eyes causes your own to water, but you soldier on through what you need to say.

"I just need you to know this: Now that you're officially staying with us, you never have to question where your home is ever again. Ever. I love you very much, and I promise that as long as I am alive you will have a place in my heart. I've wanted a child for a long time, but I am so lucky that it gets to be you, buddy. You will always have a home with me, Green Bean. Shoot, I hope it's okay if I still call you that sometimes. It'll be hard to break the habit."

The kid seems to soak in these words, little tears of his own forming in his large eyes as he quite literally flies forward and into your arms. His body is so tiny, so it surprises you with a squeak when the Force aiding him knocks you backwards onto your ass. You can't help but giggle as he snuggles into your chest, but the giggle quickly slips into a sob as he squeezes you for dear life.

Grogu's little form shakes as he cries into your shirt, soaking the material with tears, snot, and saliva. You could care less about the mess of it, sitting in the dirt as you comfort your weeping child.

After a little bit, Grogu hiccups and his breathing evens out. He looks up at you with his huge brown eyes as he motions towards the Razor Crest in the distance.

"Ready to go home? Me too, buddy. Let's go see what Jupiter is up to. Hopefully your dad and Ahsoka make quick work of defeating that nasty Magistrate lady. I don't know about you but I am so ready to get off this polluted rock.”

Looking around the ruined forest land, a shiver runs up your spine as you move to get back on your feet. “Place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

*****

Din's impressed with Ahsoka's skill as a warrior. The entire ruse leading up to Din's dramatic jetpack entrance goes off without a hitch, and the Jedi's abilities are unmatched as she takes out several mercenaries. It is no wonder the Jedi were once so revered.

He doesn't have to see her fight the Magistrate to know she is winning, the sounds of their struggle echoing throughout the quiet city are all the indication he needs. Lightsaber colliding with beskar, the unmistakable grunts of physical exertion.

Lang's silly little standoff with Din doesn't phase the Mandalorian one bit, the natural high he's still riding on very much at its peak. After learning that Grogu has chosen to stay, Din's not sure if anything could phase him right now. His heart is completely filled to the brim, making him feel utterly unstoppable.

Din pretends to listen as the man spouts off, knowing a betrayal is just around the corner. The faster the scummy little man tries to pull one over on Din, the faster Din can be on with his life. The newfound joy he feels when he thinks of the future is fueling every action in him.

Din shoots Lang down when the older man attempts to attack, and though he holds reverence for the act of taking a life, he's thrilled to be done with this ugliness so he can get back to what really matters to him.

With the city freed from the Magistrate's tyranny, the locals are soon celebrating out in the streets with flutes and dancing. Within an hour the place is already filled with so much life compared to when he arrived the day before. Din watches a family embrace with relief lacing the emotion of it, and he's suddenly desperately ready to get back to his family to share a similar moment of relief. It occurs to him that he hasn't really been able to process this life-altering news of Grogu's choice to stay, nor has he been able to discuss it with the one person he values most.

Ahsoka comes to Din at the city gates, where she gives him the beskar spear and insists that it belongs with his people. She asks him then if she may accompany him back to the ship so that she may say her goodbyes to Grogu, and Din gladly leads the way. The music fades out as they head into the forest, leaving Din slightly saddened to hear its pleasant tones dissipate. If only he could save music from every world on his device.

When they reach the Razor Crest, Ahsoka respectfully remains outside to wait for Grogu. Inside the ship, speaking of music, he hears your voice as you sing along to one of those Bowie songs you’ve corrupted him with.

This song in particular is one you sing to the child often, given that the odd lyrics seem to be about a magical baby. You’ve tried to explain the movie of its origin to him several times, but he fears it is one he would have to see to understand.

Following your voice and the surefire scent of food being cooked in the galley, Din finds you happily attending a meal with one hand as the other holds Grogu at your hip. As your body sways back and forth, your hips wiggle along with the music and your bare feet gracefully step in and out of position. When you use the tongs in your left hand as a handheld microphone, Din cannot keep himself from holding in the loud snort which escapes him.

Jumping a little with a yelp of surprise, laughter soon follows as you lift Grogu to squeeze him tighter, nuzzling his head with your cheek. “Looks like our dance party is over, sweetie.”

The domestic sight of it flares his heart, especially when you turn to meet his gaze with a radiant smile. You look probably the most beautiful you’ve ever looked to him in this moment.

His own smile is one that he fears may get stuck there forever, tone playful as he teases you, “Mm, making dinner without me I see?”

“Just some noodles. Nothing as good as your food, I assure you. Grogu and I were starving so we had to make due without you,” you say with an equally playful roll of the eyes as you stir the sizzling food. “Seems like you made it back just in time if you’re hungry.”

Din reaches out to stroke a thumb over Grogu's little hand, telling both you and the child, “I am starving as well, but it's time to say goodbye.” When an almost comical look of horror crosses your features for a moment, Din quickly squashes your worry, “To our new friend. Not each other. Ahsoka's business here is finished and so is ours. She asked to say goodbye to Grogu and I figured it was as good a time as any to get on the road. Without the Magistrate the town should start to rebuild. It was already an improvement when I left, but I don’t want to be here anymore. The more distance between us and Corvus the better.”

“Agreed. Where are we going to go next, though?” you ask, setting the utensil down to fully face him.

“I don't know, but we can figure that out as a family,” Din replies, and the truth of the statement leaves him feeling like his life is about to change in ways he can't begin to fathom just yet.

*****

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