#the last 2 gifs are me waiting for my boba to be ready so i can grab it and go hooome and watch ep 8 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stormkobra-5 · 3 years ago

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The Heir of Djarin

Episode 2: The Heir of Djarin

Summary: The Girl Misplaced has been on Yëa for three years training under Din Djarin. Now she’s ready to receive an inheritance wholly unexpected and earn her title as a Mandalorian, but her path, to Din’s disappointment (though maybe relief), does not lead to the path of a bounty hunter, but of something entirely different.

A/N: What’s this what’s this? Bo-Katan? It’s not what you think.

Notes: None

Warnings: This story is rated 14+ for canon-typical violence, action, and language. The main character is recovering from a traumatic backstory for the sake of the plot, so there is mention of distrust, social anxiety, self-doubt, and emotional damage. Later chapters may involve mature themes for drug usage (spice), excessive alcohol consumption, and clubs that imply adult entertainment (the main characters do not take part). Nothing explicit in any chapters.

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Din grabs me by the back of the neck, takes a step, and flips me clean over him. I land on my back with a grunt, the breath whooshing out of my lungs. Din patiently waits for me to catch my breath. “Your timing is good, but your execution is weak. You have to put more of an effort into shifting my weight.” “Yeah. Sure. Because you’re not wearing twenty-three hundred pounds of pure beskar.” I’m wheezing as I move onto my elbows. “Where the hell did you learn to fight, again?” “The--” “The Children of the Watch, the Fighting Corps, yes Dad, I’ve heard the stories.” Even after three years, it still feels odd to start calling Din-- who has, essentially, been my father, everything a father should have been that I missed out on-- Dad. It happened on accident, honestly. We’d been practicing stealth. He’d been rattling off things for me to remember for like fifteen minutes straight, and I finally just burst out, “Yes Dad, I know.” Ever since it just kind of... stuck. At first it was horrible. I shut down for like a week until I came out of my shell, and I stuck with calling him Dad. It felt good. I’d never had a father. I’d never been able to say Dad with any real warmth to anyone until about a year ago. Din didn’t mind at all. In fact, if anything, he acted more Dad-like than ever. Din reaches down and grabs my outstretched hand, pulling me to my feet. He watches me for a second, then takes the standard number of steps back. From a nearby boulder, Grogu happily gobbles up some frogs I’d caught earlier, watching my training eagerly. For the last three years, Din has diligently taught me all he knows-- not only to become a Mandalorian, but so that I’m not lost in this world. I’m now fluent in Mando’a of all forms, I can read and write Aurebesh, and have somehow managed to understand the Galactic Standard Calendar. He’s taught me history and given me maps of quadrants and Rims and territories. He’s given me books on races, creatures, and cultures of different worlds. He’s taught me the Mandalorian Creed and Resol’nare, the Six Actions, making me memorize them until I could recite them without thinking. He’s taught me how to fly both ships he owns-- a refurbished silver Naboo starfighter, and the legendary Boba Fett’s Slave I. I fare much easier in the Slave, surprisingly enough. Somehow, Din has had connections to two of the most important Mandalorians: Lady Bo-Katan Kryze and Boba Fett, who, without heirs, trusted all of his belongings to Din, with whom he had worked with on occasion. Even that pales in comparison to the object he holds secret: he once took me to a little lean-to concealed in the woods which held a lightsaber hilt. I remember my awe at seeing the Darksaber, that burst of electric sound and hum of energy as the blade came to life. The glow of ultra-black with a sheen of white, and how Din was surprised when my swings were perfectly balanced. I was, too. Since, I haven’t seen the Darksaber, and I’ve never asked to. I’ll see it again when I’m ready for... whatever it is that I need to be ready for to see it again. However badly I want to wield it. My blasters feel clunky and useless in my hands, though my aim is nothing short of a sharpshooter’s now-- although I do like the sound my twin WESTAR-34 pistols make, I much prefer the way the Darksaber felt. Light, balanced, an extension of my arm, the way it seemed to mold with my hand even when my instinct was to default to a reverse grip. Nevertheless, Din has taught me all forms of combat. Hand-to-hand, blaster, projectile, rifle, blade; not to mention the physical aspect. After three years of working hard, I’m fit, healthy, fast, and agile. I can run halfway up the trunk of a tree, flip, and come back around in a punch. I think Din’s jealous, but he’d never admit it. On top of all that, somehow he managed to teach me how to hunt both prey and bounties. How to track and forage and survive with nothing but the clothes on my back and my surroundings. He helped me tune my senses to always be alert and observant. I’m a much different girl from the one that landed here what feels like an eternity ago. And now I’ve noticed that Din has paused. He hasn’t attacked me yet. I drop out of the fighting stance, knowing him well enough to see that something’s distracting him. “What is it?” “...I have... nothing left to teach you,” He admits softly, almost regrettably. He heaves a sigh. “Your birthday’s tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’ll get your inheritance. You’ll be able to go off into the galaxy and start your own life.” I smile, coming over to throw an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll come visit, Dad. It’s not like I’m leaving forever.” “I know. But the life of a bounty hunter is dangerous. The guilds are tough. Working your way up can be difficult. Maybe, since you’re a Mandalorian, you’ll have an easier go of it, but... What?” He’s noticed that I’ve stepped back, wringing my hands and avoiding his gaze. “I... I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that.” “Oh?” “Yeah.” I take a deep breath. No sense in putting it off. “...I don’t want to be a bounty hunter.” His silence makes me nervous. “I-I mean... I want to be a doctor. I want to heal people. Help them.” I don’t want him to think he’s spent these years training me for nothing. Besides, I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. I can practically feel Din frowning. “You know that the First Order wants Mandalorians dead, right? Not even bounty hunting is safe, but it gets their dirtiest jobs done so they let them go. But living out in the open is a death sentence. There will be nowhere in the galaxy that a Mandalorian will be able to be a doctor, nowhere but the Resistance.” When he sees my face, he gets it. “Oh.” “I want to join the fight. From the sidelines, as a doctor, but I’ll fight if I have to. I can fly a ship pretty good, even in a dogfight-- I can beat you any day, old man.” “Hey--” “I want to help free the galaxy, Dad,” I add, a little plaintively. Din sighs, watching me for several moments, before nodding. “This is your path, then.” He crosses his arms. “Go pack your things. At first light tomorrow, we leave for Takodana.” Curiosity pricks at me. “Isn’t that where Maz lives?” I haven’t seen her since she told me I could never go back to Earth, but I know the name of her favorite planet well enough. “She’s the only one who knows where General Organa is. In order to get into the Resistance, you’ll need the general’s permission.” My face breaks into a wide, beaming smile. “So you’re coming with me, then?” “To Takodana,” Din specifies, “No further. I’m too old to join a Resistance.” He walks over to scoop up Grogu, who laughs at suddenly being lifted off of his boulder. “Put your things on the Slave, by the way. I’ll take the Naboo fighter.” My grin grows, if possible. I love flying the Slave. It’s a highly maneuverable craft that seems to know my every thought before I can actually perform the move. It moves with me, rather than me moving the ship. It’s no wonder that Boba Fett, and before him his father Jango Fett, loved it so much. I nod and race off. Our hut has changed locations, after a monsoon flooded us out and into the shelter of a nearby pine on a ridge-- now I have my own room. My own little closet and drawer and cot. It’s only big enough for the cot, really, but it has a door so I can change privately. And it’s absolutely covered in art. I made the paints from scratch, and I use a paintbrush made of a stick and rabbit hair. In yellows, blues, purples, and greens are various depictions of flowers, animals, and even one picture I worked on for weeks of our little family here. I usually pause to figure out where I can add more, but I’m starting to feel like Rapunzel (long hair included), except I’m free whereas she’s trapped. No more chains. I only wish the rest of my family had been sent here with me. I try to only think of happy memories with them, not the fact that we’ve been separated over so vast a distance. It’s painful, but I’ve come to accept it. Hanging on my neck always is the bear claw. I launch myself into my room and yank my knapsack out from under my bed, butterflies in my stomach. It’s happening! A doctor in the Resistance! A Mandalorian! I’ll get to see space! Even in three years, Din has never let me fly the Slave or the Naboo fighter anywhere farther than the edge of the atmosphere, where black domes overhead instead of blue, but I can’t see much from there. Flying in space, amongst the stars, without barriers, I’ll be completely, absolutely free. Of everything, in any space and time. I pack only what I need-- a couple changes of clothes, which is really all I have. Although, I do make it a point to carefully wrap and stuff into the pack a gift from Grogu: a rock he painted especially for me. I’ve long finished by the time Din and Grogu arrive. I beam at them. “Hey guys! Long time no see!” Grogu reaches for me and Din passes him on. I set the little guy on my lap, bouncing him up and down. He giggles, fiddling with a little tarnished silver knob apparently from the first ship he was on with Din, the fabled Razor Crest. Din carries something under his arm, a very large burlap sack. Inside, I hear the telltale clank of beskar-against-beskar, and I go alert. “...What’s that?” Din sits down before he answers me. “Besides my own, I have two other sets of armor. One had belonged to Boba Fett. He came to me to deliver it personally in his final days, and told me to pass it on to a foundling, if I could find one. Grogu’s safety, however, came first, and I found myself remaining on Yëa for his sake. The other set, however...” He places a hand on the sack beside him. My heart is pounding with excitement. “It was given to me by Maz. The fate of its owner remains unknown to me. But it will suit you, in fact, is all but meant for you.” He opens the sack, reaching in carefully. With both hands, he extracts a helmet. Smaller than his, clearly made for a female, sharp-angled. Its cross-shaped visor is more triangular, with diamond eyes and a sharp staff running down the length of the face. A rangefinder sticks up from the earguard on the right side. It’s old-- very old. Its paint has been scratched and worn away to reveal the beskar beneath, but the white and pastel blue can still be seen, as can the eyes and beak of an owl on the forehead. Gently, I reach for it, fingers grazing the helmet. “This armor belonged to Bo-Katan Kryze.” My head snaps up to meet where I believe his eyes are in astonishment. “Bo-Katan...” He’d told me stories of Bo-Katan, the last of Clan Kryze, heir the the duchy of Mandalore. If she had had the Darksaber, she would have become the duchess of Mandalore and begun to rebuild, but her fate led her elsewhere before she could wrest it from Din in combat. He knew very little of her otherwise, so her story was mysterious and full of holes for both of us. But to have her armor... “You, Laylah, will become my heir,” Din continues, “And when the time comes, I will pass unto you the Darksaber. You will rebuild Mandalore to all it once was one day, as she wanted to.” Din had talked about me restoring our ancestral home so many times, I honestly had accepted it long ago as a part of my destiny. Rebuilding on the cursed planet of glass can either be good, to cleanse it, or I can find a new world for our people. But in either case, the First Order has to go. I can help with that. “So therefore, I think it’s only fitting that you be given her armor to carry on her legacy as well as mine.” I balk, just now understanding. The meaning behind giving me Bo-Katan’s armor is immense, and the gesture itself has me feeling breathless. “...You’re giving me her armor?” My voice is hardly a whisper. “It’s what she would have wanted,” Din answers, “You may have been born in a time and place far from here, but you are more a Mandalorian than many who have the blood in their veins. You’ve proven this by your dedication to learning the Way, and now you’re on the path to restore Mandalore. Therefore, I gift her legacy to you-- you are to repaint it, call it your own, but with it always remember those who came before you.” My hands are shaking as he offers me the helmet. The only armor besides Din’s that I’ve seen is Boba’s, but then it was from a distance as he checked on its integrity and I didn’t dare ask to touch it. It wasn’t my place. But now... this armor... With an unsteady grasp I take the helmet of Bo-Katan. “Before you put it on,” Din says, taking one of my hands in his, “There’s something else: before we leave Yëa, you need to be formally accepted. There are no ceremonies or traditions here, no gai bal manda, not in this place, but my word enough will make you into a Mandalorian.” I suck in a sharp intake of breath. Oh hell. It’s happening. Right here, on this couch made of wicker and wood, I’m about to become an official Mandalorian. A part of their Way, their people. I’ll no longer be Laylah Evergreen, The Girl Misplaced. I’ll have a real identity in this world. “Are you ready?” I nod, and we stand together. “Laylah Evergreen of Earth, are you ready to swear yourself to the Creed?” I’m trembling all over, and it’s difficult to keep a smile under control. “I am.” I force my voice to remain unwavering. “Firstly, your armor is an inheritance. Do you swear by your life to honor those whom bore it before you?” “I swear it.” “Do you swear by your life to uphold the virtues of strength, honor, loyalty, and death?” “I swear it.” “Do you swear to protect the innocent, to lead with courage, and to answer the call of any Mandalorian?” “I swear it.” “And lastly, do you swear to uphold the honor and dignity of Clan Djarin?” “I do.” Din nods, letting out a breath of something like relief. “Then in the name of the Mand’alore, I rename you Laylah Vhaene-Besu of Clan Djarin. Vhaene was the name of my mentor, Besu the name of my mother. I know that you will carry these names well. Your last name, Evergreen, must now be forgotten, for you are now my heir and daughter, a Mandalorian. You are not who you were before.” I can’t stop the beaming grin, or the tears. I think maybe Din might be smiling underneath of his helmet, based on the grip of his hand. He gestures to the helmet. Without hesitation, I lift it up and pull it onto my head. The fit is perfect. It’s as if the inside of the helmet has been molded to my skull. Visibility through the visor is limited, but after a moment, a system powers up. It’s like Iron Man’s helmet in here, like a VR set. I can see all around as if I weren’t wearing the helmet, and on the left side, in my peripheral, is a panel of atmospheric conditions, an ammo count, flamethrower fuel gauge; on the right are my own vitals. I smile, though I know Din can’t see it. “Welcome to the Creed, Laylah Vhane-Besu Djarin. You’re one of us now.” He nods slowly. “This is the Way.” “This is the Way,” I answer. Din sits down, and I follow suit. My knees feel ready to give out from the surreal event. That’s it. I’m a Mandalorian. Grogu toddles up to sit on my lap, babbling happily away. “Well, Laylah,” Says Din, “I’d get to work painting that. Beskar is special-- any paint will stick to it. That armor needs to have your special touch to it before we leave tomorrow, and we need to fix your leathers.” I lean over and give him a hug. Our helmets clack together. “Thank you, Dad.” “You don’t have to thank me.” He waves me off after a second. “Now, hurry up. Fixing up your suit is going to take all night.”

- - -

He was right, of course; he always is. It take me several hours to paint the beskar, because I intentionally leave scenes of wear, scrapes, dents, and scratches alone. When Din asked why, I’d told him, “Because Bo-Katan worked for these. I’m not going to erase them.” He’d nodded with approval and let me carry on. Ever since I’d decided to become a Mandalorian, I’ve been dreaming a color scheme for my armor. Jango’s was blue and white. Boba’s was green and rust-orange. Bo-Katan’s was pastel blue and white. Din’s is pure silver, but his black and brown leathers made up for the lack of paint. I choose ultraviolet. A sheer indigo-purple, accented by black on the helmet and breastplate, and shiny, soft black-dyed leather straps that Din had been making for me ever since he saw me sketching ideas for how I wanted the color scheme to go-- I’d had no idea until now. Bo-Katan’s old jumpsuit-- a singular, one-size-fits all, black outfit that fit like a nice pair of leggings-- fits me well. Din takes my measurements and we spend the next several hours making me a shirt and pants of matte black leather. We switch out and adjust the buckles to the plates of beskar. By the time mid-morning hits of the next day, my suit is finally finished. Din and Grogu patiently wait while I put on the jumpsuit, the leathers, and then spend a good hour strapping on all of the beskar plates. I slip on the gloves, the soft leather boots, the tattered, one-shouldered black cape that was once Din’s and tying it securely beneath my pauldron. I put on the twin-holster belt, the vambraces, one with a flamethrower and one with whistling birds. The numerous knives. The rifle, a different kind from Din’s, goes over my shoulder and across my back. When I’m finished putting on the body armor, I’m covered from head to toe. Even my neck is guarded by the turtleneck of the bodysuit and then a leather collar. Despite this, it’s breathable. It’s lightweight and maneuverable. I could kick ass in this without breaking a sweat. Before even thinking of putting on the helmet, I tie a piece of green plaid (all that’s left of the shirt I had on when I first arrived here) around my head to keep stray strands from falling into my eyes. I rebraid my hair into its traditional rope, which stretches all the way down to my knees. I pull it up, and tightly wrap it around my head, behind the makeshift headband, and am able to circle my head almost three full times. I secure it well, then pick up the freshly-painted helmet of Bo-Katan. My helmet. I’m adding my legacy to hers, and I wonder what she would think, if Din is right that she would want this and even be proud of it. I wonder. I flip the helmet around, and put it on for only the second time in my life, but now with the complete set of beskar. I didn’t completely feel it when Din had named me his heir and daughter last night, but now, as I turn to look in the mirror, I realize it fully. Of course, it’s not a real mirror. It’s a piece of scrap metal polished to serve as one. But what I see makes me stand still with shock, and I unashamedly stare at myself for several minutes in awe. Laylah Evergreen is gone, replaced by Vhaene-Besu Djarin. Dead? No, not entirely, for I still carry her first name. But standing before me isn’t the loser teenager from Earth, but a Mandalorian woman with two legacies to live up to and a grand fate of restoring a world on her shoulders. I have to sit down. It hits me. What would they think? My family, if they saw me now, what would they do? I’d gone far beyond my hopeful-hobby of one-day cosplaying. I’m supposed to do something very important. I’m joining in the fight to free a whole galaxy. I wonder what they would think, and then I take a deep breath. I put the mirror back on my bedside table and exit my room. Din jumps to his feet when he hears me coming, whirling around to face me. In his arms is Grogu, who openly awes with wide eyes and an o mouth. Both are speechless; without saying a word, I incline my head, as I see Din do so often. He lets out a breath he must have been holding. “You’re as much a Mandalorian as one born and bred on Mandalore itself. It’s in your heart, if not your blood, and heart oftentimes matters more.” The praise has me beaming. “Thanks, Dad.” He hoists up Grogu. “You ready to go, kids? Maz is expecting us.” Grogu chirps excitedly, and I snatch my pack. We leave our little hut and follow the path through the woods that leads to the meadow where the ships are. Din’s is closer to where the path meets the meadow. Smaller, faster, capable of lightspeed and certainly maneuverable, his Naboo starfighter is a relic, specially commissioned by the Queen of Naboo herself. They aren’t built like this anymore, and it’s old enough to be off the radar. The Slave is bigger, bulkier, but a more satisfying ride. The turrets are louder and more powerful. The whole ship can fly in any direction from any direction. Its faded paint job of green-and-burnt-ochre reveals its silver paneling beneath, and the transparisteel is clouded at the edges with age, but it’s still a beauty and perfectly capable of putting up one hell of a fight. Even if I do sometimes have to kick the underside of the cockpit to jostle the wiring a bit. “Alright. Head to your ship, and follow my lead. You’ll be exiting the atmosphere and engaging lightspeed for the first time, so you’ll need to do exactly as I say.” I’ve stopped short to stare at him. It’s never been my ship. It’s been the ship. The Slave. Never my ship. He turns, almost smug. “Didn’t I mention that? The Slave is part of your inheritance. Boba wouldn’t want it sitting here uselessly, collecting rust and dust. Even a Resistance doctor will need a ship, I’m sure, and if necessary you’d be one hell of a wingman.” I’m running to him before he’s even finished his sentence, throwing my arms around him. I’m still not used to his kindness, to the fatherly gestures and caring. A part of me still expects him to abandon me, like everyone else. But something-- the very same something that compelled me to move Grogu’s cradle the night a branch came flying through the window because of a windstorm, that made me warn Din about flooding days before our hut was nearly washed away, that made me switch trajectories last-minute and avoid getting an engine-full of birds-- lets me know that he never will. That he does care for me, maybe even love me, and I know that I would do anything for him or Grogu in a heartbeat. I’m glad for the mask, because he can’t see my tears. But he might hear them in my voice. “Thank you, Dad.” “You don’t need to thank me,” It’s what he always says, but his voice is full of warmth. “This is all yours. Except for the jetpack. You can’t have that until I’ve trained you for it.” I feign disappointment, sagging over dramatically. “Aw.” Din chuckles, then gives me a shove. “Get to your ship, Mando.” “Do I have to change the paint job on the Slave?” “No. Why?” “Boba worked hard to paint that, and even if he didn’t do it himself, then he probably paid for it. Painting a ship that big has to be a pain in the ass. I wouldn’t want to erase his hard work.” I feel like Din smiles. “...And you probably wouldn’t want to spend the next few weeks breaking your back painting a ship instead of hurrying up to join the Resistance, would you?” Huh. That honestly hadn’t even crossed my mind. “...Huh. Well, now that you mention it, no I would not.” Din chuckles. “Alright then. Get to your ship. And remember, follow my lead.” “Yessir!” I slur, and bolt for the ramp of the Slave. For the ramp of my ship. I secure my bag and close the ramp, ensuring that it’s airtight and that life support is activated, before going to the cockpit. It sits kind of like a space shuttle cockpit. I have to lay down on my back, strap myself in, and I’m only right-side-up in flight-- not that it matters in dogfights. I power up the Slave, relishing the purr of the engine whirring to life. The lights flicker on the cockpit-- I deliver a swift kick to the panel’s underside and they blink to full brightness. I flip on the comlink. “Any chance we might be able to pick up a calibrator in Takodana?” “Finding parts for the Slave will be difficult. We’ll have to either pay for custom-made, scour the junkyards, or upgrade the whole control panel.” “Yeah, but, say the upgrade doesn’t match the aesthetic...” Din laughs lightly. “I’m sure we could request that it not be changed. It will be extremely expensive, though, and tough to find somebody willing to work on an unregistered ship. That’s illegal in most parts these days. Guess you’ll have to keep kicking it.” “Noted.” I see a flash of silver, and over the comlinks I hear Grogu squeal happily as the starfighter picks up speed. “I’m away. Your turn.” I grin, gripping the control throttle. Suddenly the buttons and gauges disappear, and the ship and I are just one. Sometimes I feel like the ghost of Boba Fett inhabits this thing, and it makes me feel comforted, like I’ve got a very special co-pilot. My rangefinder comes down, enhancing the specs. Everything looks good so far, so I lift the ship up until its vertical. I see the glint of Din’s starfighter nearby, and pull away from the forest floor to follow. “Up and away. Now what?” “This is your first time exiting an atmosphere. You have life support engaged? Inertial dampeners?” “Yep.” “Then you’re set, kid. Just follow me in a steep ascent.” After the initial trembles of an old ship taking flight, the Slave levels to a calming hum of power and energy. I absolutely dwarf Din’s starfighter as I come into position behind him and off to his right a bit. “Lookin’ a little smaller than I remember, Dad.” “Very funny. Do you have your rangefinder down?” “Affirmative.” We’ve reached it: the edge of space. The final frontier I’m about to brave for the first time. Butterflies and adrenaline have replaced all of my internal systems, and I feel light as a feather. “Just a question, anybody spontaneously get ripped to shreds when entering lightspeed?” Din’s silent for a second. “Dank farrik, Laylah, you have to say that? Thanks for the unnecessary worry.” “Sorry.” I wince. Even now, I don’t like it when I frustrate him. “Guess I should just shut up and do what you say, right?” “Yes. You should. Alright, ready? Just pull up with me. We’re just gonna glide into space.” “Got it, Silver Leader.” “No codenames.” “Got it, Dad,” I correct, stifling a laugh. Din’s starfighter pulls up. I start to pull back on the throttle. Without even quite realizing it, we’ve left the atmosphere and are now in the blackness of space. The Slave hovers stationary for a second as I take it all in. The endless velvet of the universe stretches out before us. Countless stars, splattered like rain, twinkle and light even the farthest distances. Vast clouds of pink, orange, and umber are spread across the expanse. So full of such wonders, it’s a miracle that life can’t just be here, a crime that no one would ever see its full glory and wonders. My hands itch to pick up a brush and paint the scene before me. Instinctively, I reach for the glass, letting out a breath I didn’t know that I’d held. “It’s beautiful...” “That it is. This is only a part of what you’ll be fighting for, kid. See all those stars? Every one of them has a planet where people exist in fear of the First Order. All of their hope rides on the Resistance. Their lives will also be placed in your hands when you join.” He pauses, then, “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?” I hesitate. Suddenly it all seems like to much. A part of me wants to turn around and exist peacefully with my father and baby alien-Gizmo brother for the rest of my life and wait for the Resistance and the First Order to battle it out. But the other part squashes that one flat. Mandalore will never be free while the First Order reigns. Will I tell my people that I ate demon-rabbits from hell instead of fighting for them? An easy path is not always the right path. And it sure as hell isn’t mine. There’s something pulling me, calling me, and I swallow my fears. To Din, I say, with enough conviction and determination to convince myself, “Strength is life, for the strong have the right to rule. Loyalty is life, for without one’s clan one has no purpose. Honor is life, for with no honor one may as well be dead. Death is life, one should die as they have lived. “Mandalore will not be rebuilt by hands that sat idle instead of fighting for their freedom. They deserve a leader with strength and honor. I will not betray my loyalty to our people by ignoring their struggles. I will not die without having lived a life that my legacy and inheritance would be proud of. I am a Mandalorian: This is the Way. This is my way.” For several seconds, Din is silent on the other end. Then I hear him chuckle, and I smile. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.” His starfighter swerves a little closer. “Maz calls you The Girl Misplaced. I think, maybe, that it doesn’t mean what you think.” My beaming grin hurts my cheeks. Maybe he’s right-- I’ve fared much better in this strange world than I ever did Earth. Maybe I was meant to be here, but was born on Earth and later, the universe fixed its mistake. “I’m proud of you, Laylah. I just want you to know that.” I’m crying again. I can’t say anything in response. The person that was my biological father only called me names and hurt me. Never once did he say that he was proud. “...I’m glad you’re my father, Din Djarin. You’re more than I ever wanted.” I hear Din chuckle. To me, from here, it looks like he’s reaching under his helmet to wipe at his face. “You crying?” “Mandalorians don’t cry.” The laughter is clear in his voice, and it spreads to me. “Au contrare, my shiny friend,” I laugh, “For I, myself, am crying at this very moment. What about you, Grogu? You crying?” I hear him babble a bit, and Din chuckles. “We’d better get going. Maz is expecting us in a standard hour, and the lightspeed journey is about half that.” “So what now?” “See the lightspeed button?” “The one you told me that I was not to push under any circumstances unless you told me to? Go on.” “Well, now I’m telling you to. Punch it!” Just like that, Din’s starfighter is sucked into the interplanetary portal of lightspeed, gone before I can blink. My coordinates are already locked on Takodana, and I do what Din said to eagerly. “Alright baby, let’s see what you’ve got!” For the first time in my life, I hit the lightspeed button. The Slave shudders, lurches, and then the pinprick lighting of the stars begins to scream past as a blue-white blur. I feel my stomach drop and I let out a whoop of adrenaline. “YEAH! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” The Slave hurtles through lightspeed, and I barely have to touch the controls as it brings me closer and closer to the source of that incessant pull.

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@simonsbluee

#star wars fanfic #the mandalorian #din djarin #poe dameron #poe dameron x oc #oscar isaac #mandalorians #grogu #bb-8 #star wars oc #bo-katan kryze #boba fett #pedro pascal

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable. She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #lay x reader #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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viastro · 5 years ago

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somewhere only we know | lee seokmin

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and seokmin go to your hidden spot. laying under the night sky, you both catch sight of a shooting star.

ミ★ genre: best friends!au, humor, fluff, hidden feelings

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 1844

ミ★ pairings: seokmin x female reader

ミ★ notes: i literally almost cried while writing this uh HELP! i’m in my FEELINGS! i’ve been blaring day6 in my headphones for the past three hours and it’s almost 4 am but it’s fiNE! i’m going through it and that’s OKAY! omg i love seokmin he’s so precious i hope you guys like this one

“I just think we as a society should appreciate guys wearing cardigans more.” Mingyu states, taking a sip of his soda afterwards as he awaits everyone's response. Minghao raises his hands up in the air and claps, “Outstanding. Say it LOUDER!”

“I JUST THINK WE AS A SOCIETY-”

“Stop.” Seungkwan goes into a laughing fit, causing the rest of the guys to lose it. You grin behind your soda, trying to hold back your own laughter. Seokmin laughs loudly beside you as Mingyu gets up to shove Minghao off the couch.

It’s a warm Friday night at the Jeon residence, the fourteen of you goofing around after finishing your finals. You guys haven’t been able to hangout altogether like this for a month since you were all so busy studying for your exams, so being able to sit down and spend time with them is nice.

Except for the fact that you feel this heavy weight on your shoulders cause you feel like you absolutely failed your sociology final. You know that Seokmin has noticed your mood due to him staying close beside you the whole night, trying to make you laugh as much as he can.

“You alright?” Seokmin finally asks, spouting you out of your thoughts. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and you give him a small smile, “Kinda. Just worried about my final, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you yn, you’re my best friend. I can literally sense how much it’s bothering you based on how slouched you are right now.” You immediately straighten your shoulders, making Seokmin chuckle at you.

“Mingyu please get off of mE!”

“No, you were rude.”

“HELLO??!!”

“Wow, and nobody’s gonna help him?” Jeonghan says as he videotapes the whole thing, and you snort, reaching over to the coffee table to grab a chip.

“Some world we live in.” Chan finishes, bursting into laughter when Minghao starts slamming his fists onto the floor like a child who got their favorite toy taken away. Mingyu finally gets up off the poor boy, and Minghao lets out a wheeze before standing up and jumping on the giant.

“Ah shit, everyone grab their cups and plates.” You announce, and everyone grabs whatever’s fragile and places it out of their way. Minghao currently has Mingyu in a chokehold, and Mingyu is refusing to tap out as Vernon now takes the role as referee.

“Mingyu! Just tap out already!” Wonwoo yells, and Mingyu shakes his head no.

“Your face is so fucking red Mingyu please!”

“N-neve-” Mingyu wheezes in the middle of his sentence, tapping Minghao’s arm. Minghao finally lets go, and stands up in victory. You all laugh when Vernon raises his arm up as if they just won the Olympics.

“You wanna head out?” Seokmin asks as you pull out your phone while everyone starts talking again. You turn to look at him, letting out a small grin, “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay guys, I need to take yn home. She’s really tired.” Seokmin announces, and the boys release a round of, “Awe man.” and, “We’ll see you on Monday!”

“Bye guys! Love you, text you later.” You say as you put on your hoodie. You and Seokmin wave goodbye before heading out of Wonwoo’s house. You breathe in the fresh air, gazing up at the dark night sky. Slight disappointment settles in your stomach once you take notice of the lack of stars.

“Yn, let’s go to our place.” Seokmin says from his car, half his body already in the driver’s seat. You feel excitement fill your veins at the thought of looking at the stars from you and Seok’s secret place, so a big smile breaks out onto your face. You nod your head and skip over to the car.

“Do you have a blanket?” You ask as you step out of the car and into the clearing. Seokmin nods his head, stepping over and opening the trunk. You go to him, peeking your head over his shoulder you take notice of the basket of snacks and two blankets. Warmth floods your face once you realize he must’ve planned this, making your heart do a little backflip.

“You planned this?” Seokmin doesn’t respond, instead he takes one of the blankets and hands it to you. You hug it tightly in your arms as he grabs the second blanket and the basket of snacks.

“Let’s go!” He exclaims, dashing off up the hill of grass. You let out a squeal, yelling out, “Wait for me!” as you put your phone into your pocket and start running after him.

You’ve been best friends with the twelve guys since your freshman year of high school, having met through you all collectively getting detention for multiple different reasons. You love all of them with your whole heart, they played a big role in making high school a lot more bearable. You’re closest to Seokmin though, you think of him as a soulmate of sorts. You guys becoming best friends was unexpected to the group, considering the fact that you both argued all the time in the beginning of the friendship.

It was only when you and Seokmin decided to prank Mingyu one random summer day, that you two quickly became best friends. You both even got into the same college! As did half of the friend group actually, the other half going to another university a few minutes away from yours. It was 2 am on a warm spring night Seokmin called you, telling you to get ready in five minutes.

“You look pretty.” Seokmin says when you step into his car, and you scoff. You’re literally wearing your winnie the pooh onesie since it’s deadass three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t believe you’re making me leave my warm bed.” You mutter, crossing your arms and pouting out the window. Seokmin turns to look at you, letting out a small giggle at your expression.

“You could’ve told me no.”

“You literally called me saying get ready in five minutes, then hung up the phone without letting me respond.”

“And? It’s not my fault you’re too slow.”

“I’m gonna kill you.” Seokmin lets out a gasp, placing his hand over his mouth in feign shock. You roll your eyes, finally giggling a bit. He glances at you and smiles at the sight of you giggling in your winnie the pooh onesie.

“Where are we even going anyways Seok?” You ask and he shrugs in response, turning up the heater.

“So it’s a surprise?”

“Precisely. If I say more, then it’s no longer a surprise.”

“Well that’s lame.”

“You’re the one wearing a winnie the pooh onesie here, yn.”

“BITCH!”

That night Seokmin took you to this hidden hill that he found for the first time, and it became your guys’ spot. You go here every once in a while when you’re stressed, with or without Seokmin. However, there’s been multiple instances where you head over and see him already staring up at the stars. It’s been a month since you’ve last been here, and Seokmin knew that. That’s why he planned to take you here after the friend group hangout.

“Last one up the hill has to buy the other boba-” Seokmin trips and lands face flat into the grass mid-sentence, letting you take the lead and run all the way to the tree. You slap the bark, turning to look at Seokmin with a big smirk on your face.

“Good GOD I think I have grass in my nose.” He yells and you laugh as he walks up to you. He sets down the blanket he was holding onto the ground, and places the basket on top. He turns to you with a small smile.

“You owe me boba.”

“I know.” Seokmin sighs in defeat, taking off his sneakers and sitting on the blanket. You take yours off as well, sitting down close beside him and unfolding the blanket you were holding. You place it over both of your legs before opening the basket.

“Eeee! You got sour patch kids!” You exclaim, quickly opening up the bag and placing a blue one into your mouth.

“Of course, they’re your favorite.” He says nonchalantly, but internally his heart is warm at your excited reaction. You turn and give Seokmin a smile, placing a red one into the palm of his hand. He puts in his mouth and his face scrunches up at the initial sourness, and you giggle.

“You seem to be in a better mood now.” Seokmin mentions and you nod your head slowly, letting out a small laugh. You lay on your back to get a better look at the stars, and your eyes widen at how clear the night sky is at the top of the hill.

“I can never get used to this view.” You whisper, and Seokmin nods his head. He adjusts the blanket before laying down beside you. He lets out a low whistle at the view, and you both lay there in silence for a moment. Soaking in the beautiful night sky.

“I’m worried about my future, my potential internship really relies on that final I took.” You confess, and Seokmin turns his head to look at you. The stars reflect in your eyes, and the natural light from the moon brings a beautiful, soft glow to your features.

“You probably did great yn, you’re the most diligent out of all of us besides Wonwoo.” Seokmin tells you and you shake your head, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know. I just feel stupid, my intelligence is such a big insecurity of mine. I just hope my hard work pays off again.” You mutter and Seokmin finds your hand under the blanket, intertwining your fingers together as a sign of comfort.

“You’re smart yn. Don’t let that bad conscious of yours tell you otherwise.” Seokmin says softly, and you turn your head to find him already staring at you.

“I don’t believe in myself.” He squeezes your hand, noticing how your eyes sparkle underneath the moonlight.

“That’s okay, because I believe in you.” You purse your lips at the sweet comment, heart practically palpitating in your chest due to it. He gives you a soft smile, turning back to face the stars.

“Oh! A shooting star! Make a wish!” Seokmin says, pointing at the sky. You quickly turn your head and catch the last seconds of the shooting star. You immediately close your eyes, letting go of Seokmin’s hand to clap your own hands together, quietly saying your wish in your head.

Seokmin turns his head back so that he’s looking at you, and he lets out a small smile. Your eyes are closed as you make your wish, a slight furrow to your brow and a small pout on your lips. He lets out a breath before closing his eyes,

I wish for you, the girl who’s fascinated by the stars but fails to notice that she holds the whole galaxy in her gaze.

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supermarvelgirl15 · 4 years ago

Text

Home- Chapter 1 (The Sin)

Summary: Jesla lands on Nevarro where a certain Mandalorian and Force-sensitive Child catches her attention. Din is helped by an unexpected ally.

Pairing: Eventual Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) × OC!Jesla Gavdo

Word Count: 1,750

Warnings: Violence, gun TW

A/N: This is the first official chapter! I hope you all enjoy it! Comment if you would like to be tagged in this series! Chapter 2 will be up Wednesday!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

Jesla's hand fishes in her bag for some credits as she makes her way off the ship that had just landed on some planet called Nevarro. Finally, she grabs them and places them in the hand of the Twi'leck that brought her there, thanks him, and then makes her way through the town.

Now, all she had to do was buy some supplies before she made her way out of the town, away from all the inhabitants. She just needed to buy enough supplies that would last her a couple weeks. After a few years off on the run, she learned that the less she was in a populated town, the better.

She makes sure that her hood is down over her face- even though she doubts she would be recognized here- as she wanders down the streets, buying food and necessities for her survival from the vendors. She didn't have much credits left, she realized as she paid for some fruit. Hopefully this town had a place that hired bounty hunters.

Jesla was placing her purchased items into her bag when it happened. When she sensed him.

Her eyes scan around the crowd until they finally land on a pod that was following a Mandalorian. The last Mandalorian she had ever seen was a bounty hunter named Boba Fett, but he had been killed on Tatooine. Since then, she had never seen another one, which caused her to think that there wasn't anymore. Until now.

Whatever was in that pod was extremely powerful, Jesla sensed. Possibly even more powerful than her. Her curiosity got the better of her as she starts to follow them, making sure to blend in with the crowd. When the Mandalorian turns down an alley, she climbs up onto a roof of an adjacent building, following him from above.

She watches as the Mandalorian walks up to a building and knocks. A entry sensor appears and scans him before going back in. Then the door opens and two Stormtroopers walk out, making Jesla hold her breath.

The New Empire was here? And the Mandalorian was handing over the poor creature over to them?

They all walk into the building, the door closing behind them. Jesla waits for a few moments before the Mandalorian walks back out with a camtono. Alone. Without the Child. She watches as the Mandalorian looks back at the building and she senses his hesitation to leave.

The Mandalorian shook his head, muttering something to himself before he began to walk back through the town. Jesla looks back at the building, suddenly worried for the creature that was inside. What did the New Empire want with him? Did they know that he was Force-sensitive as well? Was she also in danger?

Something inside Jesla told her that if she wanted to help him, she had to follow the Mandalorian. She wasn't sure where it came from, but her old master told her to never ignore her instincts. Jesla frowns slightly as the thought of her old master crosses her mind, but she quickly shakes it off before she sets off to find the Mandalorian.

∞∞∞

Jesla is sitting in a common house nursing a drink when she sees the Mandalorian again. He's wearing new armor, made out of Beskar if she had to guess. She watches silently as an older man starts to talk to him.

“Ah, Mando! They all hate you, Mando. Because you're a legend!” The man exclaims loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“How many of them had tracking fobs?” The Mandalorian asks gruffly, looking around at all the other bounty hunters that occupied the house.

The older man scoffed. “All of them. ALL of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you. And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please, sit my friend,” he says as he gestures to the seat across from him. The Mandalorian takes the rifle off his back and sits.

Jesla looks around the room, hearing bits and pieces of the other bounty hunters' conversations. They all seemed a bit heated about not being the one that was currently being praised by whom she assumed was their boss.

Her attention is brought back to the Mandalorian when he stands up, acting as if he was going to leave, but halts. “Any idea what they're gonna do with it?” She hears him ask the older man.

“With what?”

“The kid.”

“I didn't ask. It's against the Guild Code.”

The Mandalorian didn't know what the Empire wanted with the kid either?

∞∞∞

Jesla is perched on a rooftop across from the building that the Mandalorian had taken the kid into earlier, planning what her first move should be. If she showed herself to the Empire, they would know she was still alive. However, if she did her job right, there wouldn't be anyone left to spread the news after she was finished. All she knew was that she had to rescue the kid.

She is brought out of her thoughts when she sees the Mandalorian walk up to the front door and knock. When the entry sensor appears, he breaks it off and quickly hides himself. Stormtroopers walk out and one of them orders the other to check the perimeter. The Mandalorian then blows out a wall and enters the building.

Getting her MK-modified rifle ready, Jesla patiently waits for the Mandalorian to return. After a short while, he exits the building, the Child in one hand and a blaster in the other. He starts to walk through the town streets, Jesla jumping rooftops as she follows him.

He is finally stopped on the main street by the older man from the common house. As bounty hunters began to circle him, the Mandalorian trains his blaster on the man before him.

“Welcome back, Mando. Now put the package down,” the older man orders him.

“Step aside. I'm going to my ship,” the Mandalorian states sternly, his grip tightening around the Child.

The older man brings his hand to his chin, acting as if he was thinking about it. “Hm. You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass.”

“The kid's coming with me.”

Jesla lines up her scope with the older man as they try to negotiate with each other. Before she can take the shot though, the Mandalorian suddenly starts shooting at the bounty hunters and jumps on a speeder, hiding behind the cargo. He yells at the droid and it starts moving down the street, the hunters continuing to shoot at them. Jesla races across the rooftops, hitting some of the hunters with her blaster, causing some of them to take cover.

Finally, the speeder gets stopped by the older man shooting out the droid pilot. The Mandalorian disintegrates a few bounty hunters with his pulse rifle before he takes cover with the Child. Jesla notices someone creeping up behind him. Quickly, she snipes them before they could get him. The Mandalorian looks up and sees her for a brief moment before he pins himself down in the speeder.

“Someone find that sniper!” The older man yells as Jesla continues to snipe the other bounty hunters that try to approach the speeder. They eventually spot her and make their way to her. Jesla tries to take out as many as she can, but there are too many of them and she needs to reload. Her hand grips her lightsaber tightly. She never used it unless it was an emergency because she knew if she did, people would know what she was.

Suddenly, multiple Mandalorians appear and start fighting the hunters, drawing their attention away from her. The Mandalorian gathers up the Child and flees towards his ship. Jesla swings her sniper rifle over her shoulder and takes off after them.

She gets to the ship just in time to see the older man get blown out of it. Without thinking, Jesla slips in just as the hangar door closed. The ship takes off and flies away from Nevarro, disappearing into hyperspace.

Jesla takes a deep breath as she takes in her surroundings, her eyes widening when the realization finally hits her. What was she doing here? She didn't have the right to be here. So why did she get on?

“Trust in the Force,” a familiar voice tells her.

Before she could even wonder where that voice came from, she sensed a precence behind her. Swiftly, she draws out her blaster as she turns around, being met with the end of the Mandalorian's.

“Who are you?” He questions, his grip tightening around the gun.

She rolls her eyes, placing her blaster back into its holster. “I save your life and this is the thanks I get?” She asks sarcastically, placing her hand on her hip. The Mandalorian doesn't move. “Lighten up, will ya? Put the gun away, I'm not here to hurt you. The name's Jesla Gavdo, by the way. And you are?” She says as she holds out her hand.

The Mandalorian still doesn't move his blaster. “Then why are you here?” He asks, ignoring her question. She drops her hand and opens her mouth to say something, but stops when her eyes land on something behind him.

“Because of him.”

The Child looks back at her, a small ball in his hands. The Mandalorian watches as the Child walks up to her, neither of them breaking eye contact the whole time. Jesla slowly kneels down in front of the kid, taking her hood off and pulls down her mask. She holds out her hand to him, and after a few moments of hesitation, the Child places his hand in hers.

Din Djarin watches the entire interaction before he finally puts his blaster up. “You were the sniper,” he realizes as the woman before him stands back up. She nods as she continues to look at the kid. “Why?”

Despite it being a very vague question, Jesla understands what he means. She finally looks back at him, making eye contact through the visor of his helmet. “To protect him, just as you did,” she answers.

The Mandalorian looks down at the Child that was at his feet, as if recalling the events that had just occurred. He looks back up, his head tilted just slightly. “Why does he matter to you?”

Trust in the Force.

She hesitates for a few moments before she finally speaks. “Because... I'm just like him.”

××××××

Tags are open!

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loridrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

That Would Be Enough

Boba struggles to give you the life he thinks you deserve.

Warnings: Angst. Hella fluff.

Dewdrops, anointing the petals and leaves of lush greenery and flowers, glistened in the sunlight as the day broke over the planet you called home for the past 2 years. Boba, your husband refused to tell you the name of it in fear that it would come up in conversation around the wrong group of people, haunting the both of you.

Steam from your fresh cup of tea rose to the air, swirling, before being taken away by the soft morning breeze. A robe of the warmest and most hard to come by threads draped over your shoulders before coming to a stop just dusting your ankles, fluttered across your soft skin.

Taking a deep breath, you took in the comfort of the moment. The only thing that could perfect mornings like this was your husband who, as much as you hated to admit, seemed to never be home. Off again after another one of innumerable bounties. The lavish gifts he left you with could never make up for his presence.

You longed for his scent. To be able to feel his arms around your waist was you traced patterns on his chest with your fingertips. To leave kisses along his jawline as he whispered sweet nothing in your ear, even if you couldn't understand the language.

"Nose in that journal again, my darling?" Your husbands velveteen voice warmed your heart as you stood and turned to meet him face to face.

"You're home!" You exclaimed, crashing into his chest, pulling him closer to you in a longing embrace without even the chance to catch a glimpse of his rich dark eyes.

"At last." He punctuated his words with a kiss to your forehead. It had been 4 long days without him and you drunk up every second you could with him before he would have to depart again. "I've brought you something. Close your eyes."

You complied and hear a few high pitched clanks and the sound of liquid being poured into 2 vessels. You bit your lip, stifling a small laugh.

"What?" He asked, almost laughing as well at your small outburst.

"I just love you. Can I open now?'

"Yes darling." As you opened your eyes, he handed you a crystal glass containing a sweet red wine.

"What's this for? You know I love wine but its 7am." You gasped. "It's not our wedding anniversary is it?"

"No it's not." He replied laughing at your questions. "Take a closer look at the glasses."

"Huh? Wait. Are these-?"

"The glasses from the restaurant where we had our first date? Yes. And the same wine we shared. I bought two bottles. I knew right then you would he the one to tame me, and I would never let you go."

You teared up at his tender actions. It were moments like these that made the days he was gone feel like minutes.

"I can't believe you remembered, Boba. I barely remember that night at all. If you remember this you'll probably how flustered I was that night. I could barely keep my eyes off you, but I was so lost in your eyes I didn't hear a word that was said." You admitted, pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I have that effect on people." He scoffed, taking your chin in his hand. "I wanted to do something nice before I leave again. I have 2 days. I won't be gone long."

Aside from your feelings after he retuned home and showered you with guilt gifts, Boba felt a lasting emptiness inside of him. This next job was the first in a month. Down a glass. He knew how much it tore you apart when he left, but there was no other choice. He could love no other life. Down a second. He knew of your dreams and desires, things you hoped to accomplish. He couldn't provide them. Down a third and a fourth.

He sat with his head in his hands, leaning over his holopad at the table, hoping for something to pop up. Hopeing someone wanted someone alive. Those payed the most. Down half a fifth. This is how you found him.

The room was dark, illuminated by only the glow of his screen and light crackling in from lanterns outside the window.

"Love?" You asked, voice stirring up the darkness. You got no answer. "I want to talk about something."

Still no answer. You could feel something was wrong. Stepping behind him, you ran your hand across his shoulders a few times before is stopped at the base of his neck, thumb rubbing soft circles of comfort.

"What is it?" You asked and he pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in your shoulder.

"Nothing. I'm just...so tired." He said, looking up at you forcing a smile. "Let's go to bed"

"Ok." You could smell the drink on his breath and you knew he was lying through his teeth.

"Oh. What did you want to talk about?" He said, pausing in the doorway, hands landing on your shoulders. You put your hands on his wrists and leaned your cheek against his hand.

"I just wanted to say I miss you and I wish you were around more. Especially since..."

"Since what?" He asked, almost a little angrily from the alcohol. You didn't want to tell him in this state, but knew he wouldn't let it go until he fell asleep or passed out.

"Since...I'm pregnant. I was going to tell you before you last left, but I didn't want you to worry." You said, not bothering to hide from him. His heart sparked in his chest, then sank.

"How long have you known?"

"About a month or so. I'm sorry I should have told you as soon as i found out."

"No, I'm sorry." He pulled you to him. "I shouldn't have been so selfish."

"What? What in the world for?"

"I can't give you the life you deserve. How am I supposed to do this. I can't be a father. I mean.... I would love to but I can't. You can never do what you dream of and this child will never have a normal life because of who I am. I can't afford the life you deserve. I know you worry when I leave. I hate worrying you. I hate it. I shouldn't have kept you to myself. I should have let you go that first night."

"Boba!" You called, snapping him out of his ramblings. "Stop it! I love you so. much. Stop talking that way!"

"Tell me the truth, (y/n)!"

"I said stop! You're drunk. Go to bed!"

Trying not to cry, you decided against climbing in with him at the moment, and returned to your journal again pouring you thoughts out onto the paper.

The sun had risen again. You were up and ready for the day way before your husband could awake from his drunken slumber. Finally his eyes fluttered open.

"I'm heading out to the market. Don't stay in bed too long sleepyhead." You said kissing him on the cheek. "There's a pot of tea on the heater and an ice pack in the fridge. If you need some medicine for your headache it's on the counter next to your mug. I'll be back shortly."

She knows everything about me. She knows I prefer ice instead of heat for headaches. She knows I can never find the medicine when it's in the cabinet. Hell she even knew I'd wake up with a headache... though I did drink quite a bit last night.

He got up, poured a cup of tea, popping a few pills in his mouth and grabbed the ice pack out of the freezer. He noticed your journal sitting out on the side table next to the couch. He knew you didn't like when he read your things, and he respected that, but this time curiosity got the best of him and he cracked it open to last night's entry. He had to know what you thought of him.

I’ll never leave you when things get rough

I love who you are

I knew it from the day I met you

I relish being your wife

Look around my love open your eyes

Look at where you are

Look at where you started

The fact that you’re alive is a miracle

Just stay alive, that would be enough

And if our child

Shares a fraction of your smile

Or a fragment of your mind, look out world

That would be enough

I don’t pretend to know

The challenges you’re facing

The plans you keep erasing and creating in your mind

But I’m not afraid

I know who I married

So long as you come home at the end of the day

That would be enough

If I could grant you peace of mind

If I could help you rest at night

If you could let me inside your heart

Oh, let me inside your mind

Let me carry your burdens with you.

Then I could be enough

And we could be enough

That would be enough

"Getting nosy?" You asked setting your bag on the table. He was so lost in his thoughts as he sat there, head in his hands, tears falling down his face. You didn't mind one bit. He knew everything you wrote in that journal was truth, straight from your heart, no your soul. You knew he would never listen to those words had it come from your mouth.

"I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?" You asked sitting next to him.

"After all this time, everything I've put you through, that you see nothing wrong in me."

"I love you, Boba." You ran your fingers through his hair. "I don't need money, or possessions, or this lavish lifestyle you want me to have. I just need you."

He was quiet for a moment, before turning and pulling you close. He let the tears fall as he held you tighter and tighter, kissing the top of your head and whispering sorts of apologies in a foreign language.

When his tears dried he let you go, then grabbed your face, laying a hard kiss across your lips.

"I love you so much." He said. "I want to give you everything."

"Then stay." You interlocked your fingers with his as his land lay on your cheek. "You're everything to me, love. Stay home. Just for once." You begged. He let out a deep sigh and placed another kiss on your forehead.

"Ok." That's all you wanted to hear. Finally having the time to relax, he kicked back on the sofa. You sprawled out across his chest, needing nothing more than this moment to last forever.

"Do you think we'll have a boy or girl?" He asked after what seemed like an hour of silence.

"Hmm... A girl. I can feel it."

"I hope your right."

"Really?"

"There's enough of me in the world. I hope she's just like you."

You smiled and nuzzled your face into his chest before you both passed out into a mid-morning nap.

#boba fett x reader #bobafett #boba #star wars #imagine #fluff #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #boba fett fanfiction #angst #cute #fiction #my fic #hamilton #lin manuel miranda #that would be enough

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