#twi'lek food

[wendydoodles]

A jedi on the run post Order 66 and the bounty hunter who tracks him down and accidentally falls in love with him.

[ct-hardcase]

still thinking about how wrecker was only full for the first time on pabu and how that explains. a lot about his general attitude

[miraluking-respectfully]

every time i draw kaja she gets fatter 💕

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Okay so like, I’ve never requested anything so I don’t really even expect you to see this lol. But likeeee, can I possibly request a Din Djarin x reader, where neither the reader or Din know Grogu has the armor under his robe that the armorer gave him, and something happens where Grogu gets hurt and they both lose their minds before getting to him and realizing little dude is just fine. Please and thank you 🥹

Ooooh this is a good prompt. Speaking of, if you've asked for one then it's probably on my to-do list, but i am slow🤡. plus, updates of AFS and a couple other things come before random drabbles.

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k (i dont think I'm capable of writing less than a thousand words apparently smh)

AT FAULT

"don't let fear make your decisions." -Michael G. Manning

The quarry was laid on his back as a pool of purple blood began to settle in the sand under him. The twi'lek was motionless and your breathing was finally starting to calm. In one arm you held Grogu who seemed nonplussed by the violence at hand and in your other you held the still smoking blaster. When you managed to tear your eyes off the quarry's body they lifted to land on Din who stood stiff on the other side of the body.

"What the kriff was that?" Din snapped. His entire body was drawn taut like a wired rope pulled to tight. He was nearly vibrating in place and the anger that leaked into his voice was palpable. "Karking⏤ what the hell do you think you're doing out here!?"

His tone made your already irritable mood worse. You stuck the rarely used blaster back into the holster at your thigh. "Apparently, saving you! Maybe show a little gratitude!"

"Grati⏤” The word wasn’t even able to leave Din’s mouth. He stormed forward, boots passing the dead quarry, until he stood right in front of you. Close enough that the Mandalorian was forcing you to tilt your head up to look at him. You knew he stood that close on purpose⏤ he wanted to tower over you right now. “The two of you could’ve gotten killed! I told you not to leave the Razor Crest!”

“We’ve been on that ship for two weeks straight, Din!” You argued. “We just wanted a little fresh air⏤”

“I told you this quarry was dangerous, I said⏤”

“All your quarries are dangerous, Din. You⏤”

“When I tell you to stay on the damn ship,” Din grabbed your by the arm not holding Grogu, “I expect you to kriffing listen. Dank farrik, cyar’ika.” The way he spat out your usual nickname made you wince. “I told you this quarry was bad news⏤”

“And I told you that you shouldn't have taken the bounty!” You yelled and tried to yank your arm free. Din held on tight, and Grogu began to babble worriedly in your arms. “I told you we should take a break! Take a breath! We all need it, even you. Especially, you!”

You yanked your arm back again and this time it broke free. Din settled on placing his hands on his hips, but you could still feel his anger radiating off of him. Tempers had been running high the last few weeks, stuck on a close quarter ship while stressing over the Empire being on your heels, and it seemed the two of you were finally letting it come to a head. 

“It’s naive of you to think we have the time for a break.” Din seethed. “I take bounties so we can afford fuel to run, food to eat, and⏤” He shook his head, taking in a sharp breath before continuing. “You tell me to show you gratitude? Gratitude because you risked yours and Grogu’s life for me?” Din took one step toward you and you took two steps back so he stayed a foot or so away. He pointed to himself. “Everything I do, my only priority, is keeping you and Grogu safe. Away from the Empire. So, how about you show a little gratitude and stay on the damn ship when I tell you to.”

Grogu whined in your arms and you shifted him to the other in a poor attempt to console him. You weren’t ready to climb onto the Razor Crest quite yet. You weren’t done with this fight. Din’s anger and words only spurring you on further.

“You think I’m not grateful for all you do?” You spat. “Of course, I am, you ass! I just hate watching you burn yourself into the ground for us. You need to take care of yourself too, Din. That involves taking a break now and then! That’s why I suggested leaving this bounty untouched. I just want to help.”

Din nodded once then tilted his head. “Right. Yeah. Putting Grogu and yourself at risk was a lot of help. I feel much better. Thank you, cyar’ika.”

You scoffed, “You know what, Din? You are⏤”

The sound of an unfamiliar chuckle and your eyes snapped from the dark t-shape visor to the quarry sitting up with a menacing grin. It took less than a second. It happened so quickly that your mind couldn’t register the movements fast enough.

A blaster raised.

A blaster fired.

And, you didn’t have the time to spin away. The force of the blaster bolt knocked you right off your feet and onto the ground. 

You heard Din scream, the sound hoarse and raw and broken, then you heard another blaster go off. As you laid on your back, you realized you weren’t hurting. Your back was a little sore from landing on it, but you didn’t feel the sharp burning pain of a blaster scorching through your skin. That’s when your brain finally clicked. That’s when you realized. Grogu. Oh, Maker. Grogu. Grogu, baby⏤ Your eyes snapped down to see the little boy’s eyes closed and the front of his robe was blackened from the blow.

The scream that filled the air this time was yours. You felt the sound reverberate in the base of your throat, it rattled your chest, but the only noise you could hear was the racing heartbeats that pounded in your ears. You sat up, cradling him to your chest, and you could feel gloved hands pawing at your arms. Someone was trying to take him⏤ someone was trying to take him from you. You screamed once more, your body shook, and a gloved hand cupped the side of your face. Nothing registered until you saw Grogu blink his big eyes open. Your breath caught in your throat. That same gloved hand pulled aside Grogu’s ruined robe and the telltale shine of beskar stared back up at you. A mudhorn adorning the plate that Grogu wore at the center of his chest.

Grogu let out a soft mumble and smiled up at you. 

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Din breathed. “Cyar’ika. Cyar’ika? Cyari’ka!” A hand titled your face up, tearing your eyes away from Grogu who was wiggling in your tight grip. You met the dark t-shape visor of Din’s helmet. “Are you okay? Did it clip you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth, but all that came out was a ragged sob. Even after Din pulled you both into his arms, you continued to cry against his silver beskar plated chest until your own chest ached from how badly each sob racked your body. Grogu seemed content to be squashed between you and Din. 

Hours later, in the quiet of hyperspace, Din sat in the pilot’s chair with you on his lap, cradled against his body, while you held Grogu tight to yours. It seemed since the incident Din refused to let either of you go, and you had no desire to complain. Having his arms wrapped around you while you watched Grogu sleep was the safest you had ever felt.

“I’m so sorry, Cyar’ika.” Din whispered. His unmodulated words were muffled by the way he rested his face at the top of your head⏤ buried his lips into your hair to continue peppering light kisses anywhere he had access. In this position, your head tucked under his, you couldn’t see his face. “I am so, so sorry.”

You shook your head lightly. When you spoke, your voice was ragged from screaming earlier, “No, I am. I should’ve listened to you, Din. I should’ve stayed on the ship.” Your eyes began to water again. “I almost got Grogu killed.”

“No. No, that wasn’t your fault. Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut.” Din mumbled the end of his sentence in Mando’a. “You were right. I shouldn’t have taken that bounty. I can’t lose the two of you and I’ve grown… obsessive in trying to protect you.”

“It’s worked. You’ve kept us safe. If I had listened to you⏤”

“You’re not prisoners. I can’t lock you away from the world because of my fear.” Din cut in. You let your free hand trace down the small bridge of Grogu’s nose and he scrunched it up at the contact while staying soundly in his sleep. Nothing Din would say could rid you of this guilt entirely. If he wanted to claim the mistake he could, but that didn’t make it any less your fault as well. “Please speak to me.”

You closed your eyes and lifted your head so you could press a kiss against Din’s throat. He shuddered and sighed at the touch. “Can we just agree that this is both of our faults?”

“We can.” Din shrugged, his arms tightened around you. “But I'd rather you not take any of the blame.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately as we’ve learned, I’m not good at listening.” You mumbled.

Din chuckled. “Good. I don’t want you to blindly listen to me. Your ideas are equally as good as mind, if not occasionally better.” He closed the space to press a soft kiss against yours. It was sweet and tender. Not a declaration of lust or desire, but a reassurance that you were there. Din broke away to whisper. “But if you could at least let me know when you are leaving the ship, I’d appreciate it.”

“Only if you promise to take us somewhere pretty soon.”

“I’m already ahead of you, cyar’ika.” As he spoke, his lips brushed against yours and you had no desire to lean back away from him. Din moved his hand and you could feel his hand brush against the side of your arm every time he soothingly rubbed Grogu’s head. “Crest is on route to Naboo.”

You pressed another light peck of your lips against his before leaning your head back down against his chest. Din settled his head back on top of yours, and you felt the soft caress of his thumb against your arm from the hand that was wrapped around you. Din pulled you and Grogu a hair closer, and you reveled in the silence of hyperspace.

"Also, when did Grogu get a mudhorn beskar chestplate?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

mando'a translations

Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut. [My beautiful darling, this sin is mine.]

[vodika-vibes]

Something Goes Bump In The Night

Summary: Months after you find Fives on Kamino, you and he start looking for answers as to why he's alive.

Pairing: Wraith! ARC Trooper Fives x F! Twi'lek Reader

Word Count: 3659

Prompts: Fixing each other's clothes, "Shut the kriff up and eat your shitty ration bar." and "You make me feel safe." "You really shouldn't"

Warnings: Violence, Fives attacks the reader without meaning to, the word sex is mentioned twice in regards to the reader doing Spoogle (space google) searches, Reader is described as a blue-skinned twi'lek with ear cones.

A/N: So, this story is brought to you by the many, many, many pictures I've seen of Fives with a y-incision. Also, I played around with wraiths a little bit. Because I wanted to.

In the months that Fives has been living on your ship with you, you’ve come to learn a few things about him. 

A, he’s something of a perfectionist. You’re much more of a “good enough” type of person, especially when planning jobs, but he gets all bent out of shape if you don’t have a whole plan from infiltration to escape.

Ironically, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with improvising if the plan goes wrong, which is more confusing to you than you’d like to admit.

B, he’s messy. Since he was a soldier, you thought he would be a neat freak. But he’s not. He’s careful about ensuring his mess doesn’t get in your way, but you’ll find his datapads and models strewn around your ship rather than consolidated in a single place.

C, he’s clingy.

Look, your ship is small. Tiny. Built for one person and an astromech, maybe. It’s certainly not built for an adult man who is built like a brick wall and another person (namely yourself).

So you quickly sussed out that you and Fives were going to have to share a bed. It was a little weird, that first night. You’ve never shared a bed with anyone before, after all. 

But the following morning you woke up with him curled around you, his arms tight around your waist. Like a giant, clingy blanket. And, despite what you said to him that morning, about him being clingy, you’ve grown to enjoy it.

Your family isn’t really the “touchy” type, and Fives curling around you every night is the closest you’ve had to a hug since you were a child.

Which…is depressing, if you think about it too hard.

So, you don’t.

There are other things you’ve noticed about Fives, things that you make note of in your tablet, but would never mention to him. He has moments of extreme violence, never directed towards you, but towards other people.

He’s fiercely protective of you, to the point of murder.

And he’s afraid.

He’s so, so afraid of finding out what the Kaminoans did to him. 

You rest your chin on the palm of your hand and watch Fives move around the kitchenette with an absent sort of interest. He’s always hungry, Fives. Most of your money is spent on making sure there’s enough food on the ship for him.

“You’re staring,” Fives notes as he sits at the bar across from you.

You shrug, unconcerned, “I’m thinking.”

“Oh, is that why I was smelling smoke?” He teases something unnatural and inhuman glittering in his eyes. It should scare you. It should. But this is Fives.

How could you be afraid of Fives?

“You know me,” You joke back, “My brain is just three tookas on a treadmill—”

He grins at you, a lopsided smile that’s actually insanely attractive. It’s really not fair. How dare the Kaminoans choose Jango Fett as a template and not some ugly bounty hunter?

Wait…you’re getting distracted.

It takes you a moment to put your train of thought back on track, “I’m thinking,” You say as you point your ration bar at Fives, “We should hit up Jedha.”

He pauses, his spoon halfway to his mouth, “Why?”

“They have a collection of weird shit. Maybe they know what’s going on with you.”

Fives lowers his spoon back to his bowl and taps the rim of his bowl thoughtfully, “Are you sure you want to steal from Jedha?”

“Steal?” You press your hand to your chest in mock offense, “Fives! I do not steal! I merely…borrow things.”

He points his spoon at you, “And tell me, moonbeam. Have you ever returned anything you’ve borrowed before.”

“I returned your shirt!”

“Yeah. Because we live together. And you kept the sweatshirt.”

“I look amazing in your clothes.”

“You’re a twi’lek, you’d look amazing in a paper bag.”

You point at him, “That is a harmful stereotype.”

“Uh-huh,” He actually takes a bite of his oatmeal, “Remind me, what did you do for a living before you decided to become a thief?”

“I am a recovery expert—”

He raises a single brow and you huff and cross your arms, “I may have, possibly, been an exotic dancer. At a club that only hired twi’leks.”

“Thank you for making my point for me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Anyway. I think Jedha will have some of the information we need. Or, if nothing else, they can point us in the right direction.”

“I thought you decided that I’m a zombie.” Fives asks.

“Well, I thought so. But I’ve been doing some research online—”

“Oh boy.”

You glare at him, “I’ve been doing research,” You repeat, “And aside from a, truely concerning, number of people who would be okay with fucking a zombie, I have determined that you can’t be a zombie. Because you’re too smart.”

“Can we rewind to the point where people want to fuck zombies?”

“No. We can’t.”

“Come on, moonbeam,” He grins at you, “What did you see?”

This time, you pout at him, “Shut the kriff up and eat your shitty ration bar.”

“I’m eating oatmeal,” He counters smugly.

You reach across the table to steal his bowl, only for him to smack your hand with his spoon, “Rude!”

“Make your own oatmeal! I’m not sharing.”

“I let you sleep in my bed!”

“Our bed Moonbeam.” He wraps an arm around his bowl protectively, “Anyway, you were saying about Jedha.”

You mournfully eye the ration bar in your hand, and then shove it to the side, “I think you’re a spirit of some kind.”

“I’m solid.”

“I don’t know, Fives. This is why we need help!”

He watches you steadily for a moment, and then shrugs lazily, “Alright. We go to Jedha. You want to go set the heading?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You spin on the chair and hop to your feet to head to the cockpit. Then you pause and step around the bar to wrap your arms around Fives from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder for a moment, “We’ll figure it out, Fives. I promise.”

You see a small smile out of the corner of your eye, and his hand lightly presses against your cheek. I know. I trust you. You’ll figure this out. His touch seems to say, and you tighten your arms around him for a moment, before you release him. 

“Right. Jedha! Hopefully, the Empire hasn’t destroyed it yet. Or, if they did, they didn’t destroy the information.” You mumble to yourself as you leave the room.

Fives scowls as he looks around Jedha. They’re too late.

Nothing is left standing.

He glances at his moonbeam and feels the stirring of rage at the look on her face. She looks crushed.

He swallows the rage with difficulty, there’s no one here to lash out at. There’s no Empire here. No pirates. No Cartels. Just him and his moonbeam. A gentle breeze washes the scent of her over him, and it helps quell his anger enough that he’s able to speak.

“There might still be something left.” He offers.

She turns to look at him, her wide eyes glassy with tears, “How can you say that? There’s nothing left!” She gestures to what was once a bustling city at the foot of the temple. “They…destroyed everything.”

He’s going to kill the Emperor. And all of the Admirals. And probably everyone who’s ever worn an Imperial uniform.

How dare they make her cry.

Fives takes a deep breath and lightly sets his hand on her shoulder, “Don’t give up hope yet. We haven’t actually looked yet, have we?”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes, “Do you really think we’ll find something.”

“Well, if we don’t then all we lost is time.” Fives replies logically. He smiles at her when she turns to look at him, and gently adjusts her headwrap, pulling it down over her earcones. 

A tiny smile lifts her lips, and she presses her hands over his, “I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She murmurs, she scans his face for a moment and then a small furrow appears on her brow, “I upset you. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault. I’m controlling it.” One of his hands falls so the backs of his fingers brush her cheek. “I suppose this ruins the plan we made.” He gestures to the ruins.

“Well…makes it moot, I suppose.” She replies as she tears her gaze from his face to scan the former city. “...do you think anyone got out alive?”

“I’m sure they did.” He lightly squeezes her shoulder one more time, “It looks like there’s a path through the ruins, shall we?”

“After you,”

He flashes a small smile and starts down the steps with his moonbeam hot on his heels. 

It takes time for them to work their way through the ruins. They have to backtrack several times after stumbling over roadblocks that Fives determines are too unsafe to climb over. 

Eventually, they make it to the former temple.

There are several openings and Fives checks all of them, before bringing her to one in the back, “According to the schematics, the archives used to be on this side of the temple.” He explains, “This opening should be the easiest way to get there.”

“Alright. Are you going first or do you want me to?” She asks.

Fives shoots her a look, “When have I ever let you go first?”

“Never, but there’s a first time for everything.” She grins at him, and he shakes his head before he smooths his hand over her head.

“I’ll go first, you can come after me when I tell you it’s safe.”

And that’s exactly what happens, Fives lowers himself down on the rope and makes sure that the area is safe, before shouting up that she can join him.

She descends the rope much faster than him. But then, his moonbeam is a thief, so she knows ropes a little better than he does. Fives makes sure that she’s secure on her feet before he looks around.

The Temple really is little more than a ruin.

Honestly, he doesn’t expect to find anything useful here, but he has to look. If only to keep her from feeling guilty.

“Alright. So the Archives were that way,” Fives nods at a collapsed hallway, “But I think if we go this way we’ll be able to find a way around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” She replies as she steps towards the opening in the wall that Fives indicated.

He stops her with a hand on her chest, “Why don’t I go first, see what I can see. Make sure that there’s actually a way through before we start poking around.”

“I can help, Fives.”

He chuckles and lightly kisses her forehead, “I know you can. But I’d like you to stay here. Maybe make a map?”

She blinks, “Oh! That’s a great idea!”

“I’m full of them.” He counters with a grin.

“You’re full of something, alright.” Fives’ grin widens. The fact that she’s sassing him means she’s slowly getting over seeing the aftermath of the massacre.

Good.

He hates it when she’s sad.

It should be illegal.

Fives waits until she pulls her headset out of her pocket and slips it under her head wrap, and he doesn’t move until he hears the familiar crackle of her comm coming to life in his ear.

“Alright, moonbeam. I’ll call out directions as I move.”

“And I’ll mark them on my tablet.” She finishes with an agreeable nod as she sits on a rock, “Just be careful. Just because nothing has killed you yet, doesn’t mean nothing will.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

An hour later, his moonbeam’s comm crackles to life, “—Who are you?” And Fives’ blood runs cold. 

He never considered that someone else might still be in the temple. He never considered it, so he didn’t look. 

“Wait, what are you…Hey!” There’s a sharp squealing noise of her comm being destroyed.

And that’s the last thing that Fives remembers.

You try to back away from the men that are slowly circling you.

Try being the keyword here, as there are five of them and only one of you and they have you completely surrounded.

“Who are you?” One of them, the leader most likely, demands as he aims his blaster at you.

“Who are you?” You counter, pulling bravery from…somewhere.

“I asked you first.”

“I was here first.”

“Do you always talk back to people pointing blasters at you?” Another man asks.

“Yeah, Pretty much.” You swallow hard. Fives is coming. You know it. Maybe if you get these men to leave you won’t have to witness the massacre that is Fives lost in a rage. “You should probably go.”

“Is that right?” One of the men, holding a snipe rifle (which seems excessive to you) asks sarcastically.

“My partner—”

“So you are not alone.”

Fuck.

Kriff.

“It’s fine.” The last man says, “We still outnumber them.”

“True.” The first man stares at you through his helmet, “Wrecker, tie her up.”

“Got it, Hunter.”

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

Wrecker? Hunter? Those are clone names.

That or really bad call signs.

“...you’re clones?” You yelp as you take a step back.

The men pause, and then helmets come off and they move so that you can see them properly.

“We might be clones,” One of the men, paler than the others with cybernetics on his head, says coldly, “But you’re a graverobber.”

You ignore his words, staring instead at the handprint on his chest plate. “You’re Echo.” You say numbly.

He falters, “How can you possibly know that?”

“Oh Force, you’re Echo.” You whisper. “You! You have to put the weapons down! You have to!” 

“Why should we do that?”

“Fives is going to kill you.” You say bluntly. Matter of factly. 

Echo’s face twists, “My brother is dead.”

“Yeah, he got better.” He doesn’t believe you, and slowly you take a step away from him when you hear, what sounds like, wailing. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your lekku twist in discomfort. They can’t hear him.

They won’t hear him until it’s too late.

And Fives—

Dear Fives. Sweet Fives. Kind Fives.

He’ll never forgive himself if he kills his brothers.

And so, when the wall bursts open revealing Fives in a deadly rage, his form constrained by his armor, you know what you have to do.

He lunges at Echo, who is closest to you, and is the most obvious threat towards you. And you lunge forward as well, placing yourself between Echo and Fives.

“Fives! STOP!” You shout, spreading your arms wide to shield Echo as best as you can.

He can’t hear you. You know he can’t hear you.

But you have to try.

A strong hand wraps around your throat, and Fives slams you to the ground as if you weigh nothing. Pain blooms across your back and the back of your head.

Something sharp pierces both of your shoulders, and you bite your tongue to stifle your scream of pain. Though there’s no stopping the pained tears rolling down your face. 

You’ve always been a baby about pain, it’s fine.

Slowly, painfully, you reach up and pull Fives’ helmet off, allowing it to fall to the side. His eyes are blank, there’s no recognition in his gaze, and his teeth have grown to the fangs that always appear when he gets like this.

“Fives,” You speak his name calmly and clearly as you reach up and gently press your hands against his icy cheeks, “Fives. It’s just me. It’s just your moonbeam.”

Slowly the wailing subsides to a level that doesn’t make you want to claw your ear cones off, but his hand is still around your neck, and your vision is starting to spot. 

“Fives,” You repeat his name, “You need to let go.”

His grip tightens, and you gasp for breath. It’s getting hard to stay conscious. 

“Fives,” You rasp his name, “Safe. No danger.” Your hands are still pressed against his face, but you’re starting to lose consciousness. Force, you hope he doesn’t kill you. That will destroy him.

Just as you’re about to pass out from lack of oxygen, his grip around your throat loosens and you start coughing. There’s sharp pain as the nails in your shoulders retract, and Fives collapses on you, unconscious and human again.

You wrap your shaky arms around him, “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“What the fuck?”

Suddenly you’re reminded that you’re not alone, and you blink, hazily, up at Echo. A stricken, horrified, looking Echo. “It’s fine.” You say, “Everything’s fine.” 

It’s a lie. A horrible, awful lie. 

But you have to believe it.

You have to.

Fives wakes up slowly.

His head hurts, his entire body hurts.

It takes a moment for him to remember that someone was threatening his moonbeam and his eyes snap open.

He’s about to sit up when a gentle hand cards through his hair, “Easy there, Fives.”

He blinks at her, twice, and then looks around. They’re on the ship?

“I thought…what happened to Jedha?”

“We’re still on Jedha, just back on the ship.” She says smoothly, though her voice sounds rough. She’s wearing one of her sweaters, though the shoulders look bulkier than normal.

He sits up, slowly wincing in pain. “What happened?”

She opens her mouth to say something and then hesitates. “Nothing important.” She finally says, and Fives knows that she’s lying to him.

Memories flash in front of his eyes, faster than he can keep track of.

But he sees her, tears streaming down her face, his hand around her throat. His name, calm and collected, falling from her lips. 

He reaches out with a shaking hand to lightly grab the collar of her sweater, and he tugs it down.

There, stark on her pale blue skin, wrapped around her throat is a hand-shaped bruise.

His hand.

“What did I do?”

“It was an accident.” She says lightly taking his hand in hers and allowing the material of her sweater to hide the injuries from him, “It was an accident and it wasn’t your fault.”

“I tried to kill you.”

“It was an accident,” She repeats.

“What else did I do?” He demands, “Tell me.”

“I have a few…minor stab wounds.” She says with a sigh.

“Minor? Or all the way through.”

“It’s not you’re fault.” She repeats, “Not any more than any other time. You can’t help what you are.”

“A monster?”

She moves so she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands moving to cup his face, “Fives, I’ve never thought that.”

“You should.”

She sighs and gently strokes his cheeks, “With help from my new friends, we managed to get into the archives, and I found a lead.”

He stares at her, “A lead?” Fives repeats, feeling as numb now as he did the day he woke up on Kamino.

“I think you’re a Wraith. Or a Wraith adjacent.” She explains, “We have to go to Zakuul to learn more.”

“Zakuul.” He feels like Echo, repeating everything that she’s saying. “You should leave me here. Where you’ll be safe.”

“No.” Her answer is immediate, “No. Fives, I’m not afraid of you.” She smiles at him and brushes a curl from his forehead, “You make me feel safe.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

She sighs and leans in to press her forehead against his, “If it helps, someone else will be traveling with us from now on.”

His gaze snaps to hers, and he feels the stirring of jealous possession burning in his gut.

“Don’t be like that,” She chides lightly, “You’ll like this one.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’m hurt, vod.” Fives jolts at the familiar voice and turns his gaze towards the doorway, where Echo is leaning against the frame. He has a small smile on his lips, though there’s something sad in his gaze.

“Echo?”

“Rex told me you died.”

“I saw you die.” Fives counters.

“Yeah well, looks like we both got better.” Echo jokes lightly, “I’m going to be hanging out with you two for a bit.”

“That’s…” Fives pauses, “Because I tried to kill her.”

“It was an accident.” She repeats, and Fives is sure that she’s going to say that a lot in the coming days.

“Because you’re my twin and something is wrong.” Echo walks over and lightly rubs Fives’ head, “Come on, did you think I wouldn’t help my little brother?”

“We were decanted at the same time.”

“And yet, Rex says I’m older.” Echo grins, “Now, baby brother,” He ignores Fives’ glare as if it’s not even there, “You need to rest.”

“Me? I’m fine.”

“Fives,” His moonbeam says his name in a sigh, and Fives frowns at her.

“I’m fine! You’re hurt.”

“You both need rest,” Echo announces, “I am going to do some research on where this Zakuul place is, and then we’re going to comm Rex for a bigger ship—”

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“It’s too small for three people. Hell, it’s too small for two people, and I refuse to share with the pair of you.” Echo says bluntly, “Anyway. You two rest, and I’ll handle everything for a bit.”

And then Echo is gone, allowing the door to snap shut behind him.

The bedroom is silent for a moment, and then Fives jolts when his moonbeam crawls over him and squishes herself between the bulkhead and himself, “There, now we can rest.”

“...you really don’t hate me?”

She releases an explosive sigh and pulls him down so she’s able to wrap herself around him, her head tucking under his chin, “How could I hate you? You’re Fives.”

And somehow, without her saying it, Fives hears exactly what she means.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

How could he not? He feels the same way.

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@pinahallowsevecloneparty

[ivystoryweaver]

Cosmic - Poe Dameron

Episode 2: This Island Earth previous

Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Happy Poevember!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Summary: Clearing away wreckage, explaining explaining, Poe learns about bathrooms and tries to cook

Content/Notes: This chapter gets us from crash landing to domesticity. No warnings except food and injury

Word Count: 2.5k

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"You're saying you're from..." Your eyes widened as you pointed up at the sky. It would certainly explain his advanced and strange looking jet.

Your expression of shock was mirrored on Poe's face. "Hey, this is news to me too. I've never been out of our galaxy. I didn't even know I could...not in an X-wing anyway."

"X-wing?" Your eyes followed his to the wreckage.

"My starfighter."

You swallow hard, not sure how to feel. The 'I'm not from around here' explanation certainly seemed to make the most sense. Poe didn't appear to be a man who'd lost his mind. Even if he was, how else could you explain the...X-wing?

"Where's the nearest space station? Where could I go for repairs?"

You must have stared at him for a full minute, but seeing that he was seriously asking, you shrugged hopelessly. "We don't have those. No space stations. They launched a space shuttle earlier this year. I think it's kept in Florida. But it's nothing like this," you tried to explain. "We don't have anything like your..."

"Starfighter," he supplied. "No starfighters? No space stations? How do you go off world?" He asked earnestly. "The shuttles? Will they take me to the closest space station?"

So you spent the next half hour explaining to Poe that the people of Earth never actually left Earth. Sure, there had been a couple of trips up to Earth's moon, but no other planets. You also explained how space travel was rare and expensive, and entirely uncommon. There were no humans or sentient species to your awareness on neighboring planets in the solar system. Nor did Earth humans possess the capabilities, at this point, to explore the vastness of the Milky Way galaxy.

Poe remarked that your little planet seemed to be an island unto itself.

He asked endless questions about ships, which you called airplanes and jets - about how none of them, to your knowledge had hyperdrives or sublight engines or ion engines. Whatever those were.

"I honestly don't know much about that stuff," you admitted sheepishly. "Only what I see in the movies."

One of Poe's thick eyebrows lifted curiously. "Movies?"

"Um, yeah, like television shows, but longer." You waved your hands in front of you. "On a big screen. You know, people act in them and tell stories. Pretend stories, for entertainment."

"Ohhh, like holos," he nodded. "We have those. Sort of."

On and on the two of you went, speaking quite technically about space travel. It blew your mind to think that Poe could really be from another world, another galaxy even. You also talked about whether or not he was human. He assured you that he was, although he let you know that his galaxy was full of sentient life of all kinds - human and otherwise. Beings like Wookiees, Twi'leks, Rodians, Hutts and Ewoks and Ithorians - who apparently had four throats.

Poe asked how long before the sun would rise, suggesting that you try to haul away some of the wreckage before that time. You decided to take your truck over to get your tractor. Using all the tools at your disposal, including hay bailing equipment, you hauled away as much wreckage as possible and put it in one of your old, spare buildings. Even with the machinery, it was exhausting work, especially for Poe, who continued limping.

And you didn't finish by sunup, nor even by mid-morning. You could only pray that someone wouldn't come poking around asking questions. Thankfully, the smoke seemed to have cleared after whatever Poe did to quickly put the fire out.

With some strategic tarps and hay, you tried to cover the remaining wreckage until you could work some more under the cover of darkness.

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"Do you have a fresher somewhere?"

Dirt from the night’s labor and soot from the fiery crash covered the sharp angles of Poe’s face. His lips, full and plush were split and parched with thirst. Dark curls, wild and untamed, fell carelessly over his forehead. With eyes the color of tilled soil after rain and a gaze that fixed on to you with a silent plea, he looked at you like a lost boy.

Seeing the confusion on your face, Poe tried to explain. "Uh, to clean up? To wash, with water?"

"Oh, yeah, of course, let me show you. Follow me." You led him up the stairs to the bathroom, wishing there was a shower for him on the first floor, so he wouldn't have to use stairs with his sore leg.

Just then, an orange streak darted down the stairs, giving Poe a start. "What was that?" He breathlessly questioned, more curious than actually frightened.

"That was my cat, Cheddar. I have two more out in the barn, but Cheddar thinks he lives in the house." You waved your hand dramatically. "Welcome to my crazy farm. Do you have cats in your galaxy?"

He smiled, looking past you for a glance at the small creature. "Loth cats, yeah."

"Do you have any pets?" You inquired, leading him into the bathroom.

"No animals. Just...my droid. BB-8."

"Droid?"

"Like an android."

"Like a robot?"

Poe explained to you a little about his spunky, round droid, so full of intelligence and personality. A sadness lingered in his eyes when he spoke of the little thing.

"I hope you'll tell me more about him," you said, pulling back the shower curtain. "But I'll let you get cleaned up first." You gave him a quick tutorial on how to work the faucet.

Easing back around him in the small room, while attempting not to violate his personal space, you grabbed a towel and washcloth from the cabinet. "Here you go. I can get you some clothes. They were my father's. Probably a little big, but..." Quickly scurrying away, you gathered some faded navy sweatpants, a gray t-shirt and your dad's old, knit cardigan. No men's underwear. Oh well. Perhaps a trip to the store was in order.

Poe was waiting in the bathroom doorway when you returned. "Sorry, this is all I have."

"Thank you so much for helping me." His eyes flickered down the shape of your body briefly. "You must be exhausted."

"Hey, I'm not the one who crash landed," you chuckled.

Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he sheepishly smiled. "Yeah, not my best work. I'm a good pilot, I swear."

"Uh-huh, sure," you teased. "My field would beg to differ."

Reaching out for you arm, he squeezed gently, but his touch did not linger. "I'm sorry. I'll help you fix it, if I can."

"It's okay, Poe," you gently returned. Now that you were getting a good look in the daylight, he was really handsome. It was more than just the cut of his jaw, his dark, delicious curls and his soulful brown eyes. There seemed to be an inner goodness and sincerity that was magnetic.

Clearing your throat, you took a step back. "I have to go take care of my animals, but when I come back, I can make you something to eat,"

"Oh...I can help you. I didn't realize - "

"No, it's all right," you assured him. "I'll introduce you later. You clean up. I mean, you did survive a fiery crash, right? Besides, you're hurt." You nodded to his leg.

He shrugged. "I'll live."

After your chores, you found Poe dressed in your father's clothes, which looked rather adorable on him since your dad was just over six feet tall and Poe was definitely shorter than that. He looked as if he'd leaned over and fallen asleep immediately over the arm of the couch.

Cheddar had curled up to his side in the most affectionate display you'd ever seen from your fussy feline.

Although you were starving and exhausted, you decided to hit the shower yourself. Maybe you could shirk some of your farm responsibilities for the day, after a shower, a warm meal and a good nap.

It didn't happen in that order. After your shower, you got dressed and passed out on your bed.

You awoke to the smell of food. Chicken, specifically. Bolting out of bed, you scurried down to find Poe cooking some chicken legs on a skewer over an open flame on your gas stove eye, with Cheddar circling his legs affectionately.

"Hey, I hope this okay. I found some...it said chicken legs in your cooling chamber. And I thought I would cook it on your stove. I didn't realize it was a gasser. I wasn't sure what pan to use because I don't want to burn anything, so I just did this."

"I am so sorry," you chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you scooped up Cheddar for a quick snuggle. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Was this little guy bothering you?"

"Not at all." Poe had woken up with the strange feline curled up on his lap. As he petted the soft creature, he had felt it purr and noticed how short its ears were compared to a loth cat.

Depositing Cheddar onto the floor, you quickly reached for a pan so Poe wouldn't have to continue holding and turning the meat.

"Is this okay to eat? It's just meat, right?"

"Yeah, it's all right." You smiled at him, feeling something tug at your heart at how strange this all must seem to him. It was certainly bizarre to you. "I can make some vegetables to go with the chicken and some rice," you offered. "Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." Poe stepped aside, watching carefully as you took command of the kitchen, his mind reeling with a thousand worries and curiosities. "Would it be okay if you describe to me what you're doing?" He softly asked, moving beside you tentatively. "That way, I can learn the names of things, and how they work."

So that's what you did, sparing no detail as you used a knife and a cutting board to chop potatoes and carrots. On and on you went, describing the boiling of rice and the toasting of dinner rolls. Most of it seemed to be pretty universal, but you were able to teach one another a few words here and there.

"Do you drink caf?" He questioned as you set the table while the food finished cooking.

"Um, caf, like caffeine? Coffee? Dark brown, made of grounds, from beans? Looks like dirt?"

"That's the one," he grinned.

"Absolutely Want some?"

"Please."

That word sent a shiver through your body, but you brushed it off.

As the two of you enjoyed your lunch, you apologized again for falling asleep and leaving Poe on his own.

"Please, you have no idea what your help means to me," he told you, rather seriously. "I could've landed anywhere. On any world. Or...this Russia, you were talking about. I could be in prison somewhere, or spinning out in space. But I landed here. Believe me, I've had it a lot worse."

"Is it really so bad, where you're from? With the First Order?" You asked him.

Setting down his fork, he swallowed his bite of food. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before resting both forearms on the table's edge and folding his hands together. "Sometimes it feels like every time I get in my X-wing, it's life or death. It's been kind of non-stop really."

"That sounds exhausting," you softly replied. "And scary. You must be very brave to stand up against them."

"I try to be," he answered, eyes meeting yours. "That's why I have to get back. There has to be someone I can talk to in your government. Do you have a senate, or a leader? A chancellor? I have to see what I can do about my ship."

Realizing what a dire situation he might be in, you sighed heavily. "Poe, it's not that simple."

"Why isn't it? If we just explain to them, like I did to you - "

"No one is going to understand, or even believe you," came your emphatic reply. "They'll probably do a hundred experiments on you because they'll think you're an alien, or that..." You trailed off, trying not to upset him.

"They'll think what? That I'm crazy?"

Your eyes dropped to your plate.

"Is that what you think, Trix? You think I'm crazy?"

"Of course not."

Pushing back from the table, Poe stood, pacing away and back a few times, despite his slight limp. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. None of it makes sense."

You could see the stress rolling off him. He was certainly handling the situation better than you would be, in his shoes.

But you didn't know this man. You weren't sure if he needed time alone, or some way to blow off steam or a hug or something to punch. So you decided to tell him what your father used to tell you.

"Let's just take it one day at a time, okay?"

He stopped pacing to listen to you.

"We worked so hard off clearing your ship away, and we probably need to go back tonight. We need to get it cleaned up and stored, somehow, no matter how long it takes."

He nodded, giving you that lost boy, puppy-eyed face again, so you kept talking.

"We need a cover story for why you're here - where you came from. The ship, we can hopefully hide. If the government saw you crash land, they would probably already be here, but just in case, we need a better explanation than the fact that you quite literally fell out of the sky."

"Right. Good idea."

"And you need a place to stay. Some clothes and personal things."

Standing up from the table, you reached for your plate to start clearing the dishes while you talked. "I have a spare bedroom. Two actually, but one is pretty small and up by the attic. It was my room when I was a teenager. Anyway, um...I could use a little help around here, once your leg heals. You could take the spare room, if you want, and work for room and board. I don't really have any spare cash."

"You would let me stay here, past today?" Poe sincerely questioned, dark eyes wide and hopeful.

"I don't see why not. I mean, where else will you go?"

His shoulders sagged in relief as he heavily sighed. "Thank you. That means so much to me."

"You're welcome," you softly returned.

"Can I ask you something?" He went on, easing toward you.

You shifted from foot to foot, feeling the need to set down the dish you were carrying as his gaze locked on you. "Mm-hmm."

"Are you always this nice to complete strangers who crash into your field?"

"No one's ever crashed..." You trailed off, realizing he was only teasing. "Well, it's like I said. You fell right out of the sky. And I'm not one to turn down free help."

He laughed then, but it was hollow and tired and worried. The merriment in it would not reach his eyes. "I promise you I'm not crazy. I really am from another galaxy."

Laying your hand on his arm, you squeezed gently. "Poe. I believe you."

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[sailorkamino]

fights and hugs (crosshair's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationship: twi'lek!jedi!reader x crosshair [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

summary: everyone thinks you're perfect but crosshair knows the truth - you're annoying, manipulative, and stupidly optimistic. so why does he get so protective when a creep harasses you?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: cross thinks kindness = emotional manipulation, jealousy, sexualization/verbal harassment, slavery, creep gets punched, protective cross, clones not having rights/unfair justice system, separation anxiety, soft cross, he's like a feral cat that secretly wants to be a house cat

ryl translations: chi'kan- pervert, keela- darling

a/n: i think i wrote cross like wednesday addams lmao

Crosshair thinks you’re the most frustrating person he’s ever met. And he can’t even do anything about it. He might be a prickly bastard but he’s also a soldier and you’re his commanding officer. He can’t just pick a fight with you. Especially since you never take the fucking bait.

He gives you the bare minimum amount of respect required. He follows your orders on missions (they’re actually pretty smart but he’ll die before he admits that.) He calls you general or sir. He doesn’t outright insult you. But he certainly doesn’t worship you like his brothers.

They think you’re an angel. What makes you so special? You make Wrecker laugh obnoxiously loud. You encourage Tech’s messy collecting hobby. You play with Hunter's hair until he’s purring like a tooka. It’s pathetic. You’re probably using jedi mind tricks on them. The truth is you’re a manipulative little shit and if it didn’t make Crosshair so angry he might be impressed.

What he really hates is that satisfied look on your face when he does what you want. Like when he plays a stupid dancing game just to prove to you that he can do it better than Wrecker. Or smiling at him proudly when he doesn’t shoot a reg.

Then you have the audacity to compliment him? Disgusting. So why does he crave it? Why does he get annoyed when you praise his brothers instead of him.

One day you give him a piece of dark fabric. “You wear it to block out light when you sleep,” you explain with a bright smile. The cool material is like his blacks but softer. He can’t help but run his fingers along it. He mutters a thanks and quickly leaves.

That night he uses the sleep mask and to his horror likes it. Now he’s in debt to you. But he doesn’t have any credits. Fucking great. Why do you have to make his life so difficult?

Luckily he finds a gift for you within the next few days. After a mission he notices a rock that got caught in an explosion. It’s been cracked in half, exposing the crystalized insides. Jedi like crystals right? He grabs it and drops it in his pack.

Of course you make a big fuss when he awkwardly gives it to you. You almost hug him but don’t, thank the force. He doesn’t feel dissapointed at all. You show the rock to his brothers proudly. His face burns when they send him questioning looks. “Easily impressed,” he scoffs dismissively. Although secretly he’s proud of himself.

He’s having a sleepless night on some forgettable outer rim planet when you knock on his cabin door. He knows it’s you because his brothers would have barged in. “Hey Crosshair, wanna get some snacks? I’m paying,” you offer. You shake a satchel draped across your body, making the credits inside clank together.

He wonders if Hunter (who’s currently on watch) put you up to this, why else would you seek out his company? It's obvious you prefer his brothers anyways. Not that he cares. The thought of you being coerced into this makes his hackles rise, he doesn't need your pity, but then he imagines telling Wrecker’s that you got him nat born food tomorrow. That will be entertaining. He sharply agrees and puts on his boots.

He glances down at his GAR issued loungewear. He doesn’t know if they’re appropriate for a nat born store or wherever you’re taking him but you’re wearing sleep clothes too so good enough. You're swaddled in an oversized robe to be exact. How childish. Not at all endearing

As you exit the ship your eyes reflect in the dark just like his. That’s another annoyance. Enhanced eyesight used to be his thing. You began humming a tune under your breath. Crosshair almost says something but the sound isn’t too horrible so he lets you continue.

Within a few minutes you're at the store. He's instantly overwhelmed by the bright lights and endless options, who needs so many flavors of the same thing? He doesn’t know what any of this is but he doesn’t want to admit that so he begins recon. He grabs a crinkly bag that appears to be some kind of a cracker to inspect it.

That’s when Crosshair notices a stumbling man leering at you. He’s caught off guard by the sudden flash of protective anger he feels. Why is he so concerned? If you can handle yourself on a battlefield, you can handle one pathetic human. Your body language is the opposite of your usual demanor when talking to civilians. You’re usually very open and engaging, easily forming a connection with them. Not now.

Crosshair has seen you face hoards of battle droids with a smile. He’s seen you meditate while being shot at. He’s seen you make fun of General Grievous while fending off four sabers. But now you look shaken. Your colorful skin has paled, eyes wide in a mix of shock and horror. You suddenly look so young and so frightened.

He's beside you in a second. He tries to ignore the relief in your eyes, the way you subtly lean closer to him. It makes his chest feel odd.

“You their master?”

He sneers. Does he look like a jedi master? You go completely rigid beside him. That catches the clone off guard. You know how to keep a straight face. You’re not only a stupidly brave fighter, you’re a damn good negotiator. What could have possibly upset – then it hits him. This man was referring to a different kind of master.

You quickly recover, slipping into an emotionless jedi facade you rarely use. Crosshair’s jaw clenches so hard his toothpick snaps in half. He spits the broken pieces towards the man’s feet. “I belong to no one. The galaxy is much bigger than your prejudices,” you state evenly but there’s a fire in your eyes. “My friend and I are leaving now.”

Then the creep, who’s either stupud or plain suicidal, scoffs angrily. “You think you’re better than me? Tail head whore.”

The sniper sees fucking red. How dare this piece of shit demean his jedi? His self sacrificing, too nice, pain in the ass jedi. Only Crosshair is allowed to make your life difficult. The way the stranger judges you reminds him of every kaminoan that looked down on his brothers and his free hand is swinging.

The drunk is sent staggering to the ground, giving Crosshair a grim satisfaction. Before either man can recover your fingers wrap around the sniper's wrist to hold him in place as you bend down. “You want to go home and rethink your life choices," you instruct melodically, waving a hand in his face.

“I want to go home and rethink my life choices,” he repeats blankly.

You make quick work of charming the concerned worker, assuring that no police presence is necessary. Then you turn to Crosshair and in that fake calm voice he hates suggests he get a drink for his chips. For once in his life he follows instructions without complaint, watching you closely as you pay for your snacks. Your moves are less graceful and much more droid-like than usual.

Once you get outside you shakily sigh. He holds back an eyeroll. He’s lived with Hunter long enough to know when he’s going to get scolded. “You shouldn’t have done that, Crosshair. I was about to mind trick him.”

He stares at the ground with a tight jaw. He doesn’t know why he defended you when you didn't need it. He saw a creep harassing the only nat born who’s ever been kind to him and he just snapped. He’s still angry, honestly. Why aren’t you? “He deserved it.”

“Perhaps. But clones don’t have rights, you can’t just go around assaulting civilians. Even if it’s self defense you’re going to be painted as the aggressor.”

But Crosshair is only half listening. He's more focused on your unsteady hands. “You're shaking."

“Are you even listening to me? This is serious.”

He suddenly seizes your free wrist, mirroring your actions in the store. "So is this.”

You look like you want to argue for a moment then you slump in defeat. “I’m just… overwhelmed.”

Crosshair has experience with overwhelmed siblings. Hunter like space, Wrecker likes affection, Tech likes a listening ear. "What do you need?” He asks, surprisingly gentle.

This seems to be your boiling over point as you gesture wildly, swinging the bag in your hand. “I need sleep. I need to meditate. I need my master.” Your glowing eyes widen at your own outburst. The frustration morphs to sadness. “I guess I’m a little homesick. I thought spending time with you would be a good distraction but that chi’kan ruined it.”

This should be the point where he drops the subject. You already said what’s wrong and it’s not his responsibility to make you happy. But a voice that sounds suspiciously like Hunter points out that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave him to suffer.

He thinks back to the cadet days, when it was just him and his brothers against the world. He remembers the overwhelming anger when a reg hurt one of them. He was never good at comforting, he was good at revenge. But he can’t fight your emotions. And he already punched the chi’kan (he’ll have to find out what that means later.)

There’s only one option left. Out of his brothers you remind him of Wrecker the most and Wrecker likes physical reassurance when he’s upset. He awkwardly opens his arms and bites the blaster bolt. “Do you want a hug?”

“... What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

Then you’re flying against him. Crosshair almost falls into the grass as you smash your face into his neck, fists balling into his sleep shirt. You’re warm and solid and your touch isn’t completely revolting. He slowly relaxes as he winds a long arm around you.

Crosshair will never admit it but he can understand your separation anxiety. As the sniper it’s his job to watch his brother’s backs. The instinct to protect is so engraved in Crosshair he needs to be near his siblings or know where they are at all times. Maybe that’s why he defended you tonight. He’s starting to accept you as part of the squad.

“Blossom?” He mutters, thumb absently stroking your lower back.

“Yeah, Cross?”

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll shoot you.”

You snort against the crook of his neck. "Whatever you say, keela."

[talesfrommedinastation]

Every so often, I'll ask myself, "Were the Bad Batch really the ultimate form of Space Rednecks?"

The simple answer? YES. YES THEY ARE.

That's why half of them look white. The Kiwi gods snatched that melanin and cheekbones back when they saw what trashy nonsense these Florida Men of the Republic were up to.

Let's take a quick look from one of their first introductions in The Clone Wars' season 7 episode: "A Distant Echo".

Barely a minute long, and the following redneck nonsense happens:

Clone Force 99, Rex, and Anakin Skywalker (who looks actually happy to be with these dingbats) fly into some absolute garbage dump of a planet that has all the raw grace of Port Arthur, Texas.

They arrive in their crappy second-hand work truck that's filled with leftover food, gun posters, other guns, a Twi'Lek Playmate of the month, and who knows what else. Notice Rex refuses to take a seat in that dump.

"I done heard that folks round here ain't civilized and they do worship the devil or something. Check it out!" - Tech.

Giant critter and its illiterate, backwoods, hillbilly owner knock their car over.

Everyone runs out to gawk.

Everyone whips out their guns.

Hunter and Wrecker literally yells at said giant critter to get off the car and are stymied when Anakin tells everyone to put the guns down.

Of course Crosshair shoots the critter while Tech helps him scope it out.

And Hunter goes for a drag race while cheering.

My neck is significantly redder after writing this out.

[aynavaano]

What kind of man loves like this

Part three of the Crosshair × you series

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.8k

Summary:

You are in an established relationship with Crosshair, spending your free time on Pabu together. It’s the night of the annual ocean festival and you convince Crosshair to join the rest of the crew to celebrate together. You all enjoy a wholesome evening together and when thing get heated up Crosshair takes you to the beach.

Notes:

This is a continuation of the “Say my name” fic but you don’t need the context to enjoy this. After the latest episode of TBB I really wanted to give them some time on Pabu together, so there is a lot of fluff with the whole Batch but of course we can’t go without some nice smut with our man Crosshair(fingering/unprotected sex). He is very possessive and jealous in this story. Hope you like it.

Tonight the whole crew is back on Pabu and you're preparing for the annual ocean festivities. Crosshair, initially hesitant about attending, is swayed by the sight of you in the typical festival attire, a sheer blue linen dress that accentuates your curves and mirrors the ocean's waves, barefoot and a silvery pearl bracelet around your ankle. "You look stunning," Crosshair murmurs, his eyes lingering hungrily on you as you twirl before him, showcasing every angle of the outfit. “But you know I can easily rip that beautiful dress off of you and make you stay home” he offers. A playful smirk graces your lips as you respond, "Thanks, but you're not getting out of this so easily. You promised Omega we'd go." Crosshair sighs in resignation but offers a small smile. "Alright, but I'm not dressing up," he declares firmly, the dismissive glint in his eyes underlining he's absolutely against the idea. After a bit of persuasion you can at least convince him to leave his armor at home and the two of you finally get on your way to join the crew at the beach to partake in the festivities.

Crosshair dressed himself very basic like always but you can’t take your eyes off of him, the sleek black shirt tightly stretched over his slender yet toned body makes you almost regret that you didn’t take his offer to stay home with him. But you soon get distracted as Omega is running towards you, happy that you finally arrived. “Come on, Crosshair, it'll be fun," she says and together with the crew, you gather at the beach to witness the solemn ceremony, where offerings of fruits, flowers and candy are reverently cast into the sea. Hunter, playfully hoisting Omega onto his shoulders, ensures she has an unobstructed view of the proceedings. "Look Omega, the fruits and candy are for the sea spirits," Hunter explains, his voice filled with excitement as he gestures towards the ocean. Omega's eyes widen in wonder as she takes in the scene, her enthusiasm contagious as she bounces on Hunter's shoulders. "Wow, can we also get some of that candy later?" she asks eagerly, her gaze darting between the crew members. “Oh yeah, I want some too” Wrecker replies with excitement.

As the ceremony comes to and end and everyone makes their way up to the fair, the narrow streets and alleys become alive with bustling activity, adorned with twinkling lights and resonating with the lively strains of music. The scent of delicious food and sweets fills the air, enticing your senses as you navigate through the crowd with the crew. "Look, Omega, there's the juice stand!" you exclaim, pointing towards a bustling stall where various exotic drinks are being served. Omega's eyes light up with excitement as she clings to Hunter's shoulders, her enthusiasm contagious as she eagerly scans the assortment of beverages. "Can we get one?" she asks eagerly, her gaze darting between you and Crosshair. "Of course," you reply with a grin, leading the way towards the stall as the crew follows closely behind.

Amidst the throngs of festival-goers, you draw intrigued gazes, the unfamiliar sight of a Twi'lek capturing the attention of many. However, you pay little heed to the stares, focusing instead on the joyous atmosphere surrounding you. There are many places in the Galaxy that have never seen a Twi’lek and you got used to the looks you get when you arrive somewhere new. Finally, finding a free table where you can all sit together, the crew settles in to watch the festivities unfold and Omega runs off with Echo to get some candy that is only made on this particular day. Despite Crosshair's occasional death stares at the men that look at you too long for his taste, the evening is filled with laughter and camaraderie.

But after one guy winked at you and another one extended an invitation for a dance, he is almost loosing it and his grip tightens around you, pulling you onto his lap to make sure everyone knows you’re with him. "Jealous?" you tease him, leaning back against his chest as you revel in his protective embrace. Crosshair's lips brush against your ear, his voice low and husky as he murmurs, "Enjoying the attention, sweetheart?" You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the rhythmic beats of the music. "Maybe a little," you taunt him on purpose, trying to push him a little further. Hunter, who's been observing the exchange with keen interest, can't help but interject with a playful quip. "Don't worry, Cross, not even I could steal her from you," he remarks, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. Wrecker, meanwhile, looks on between the three of you with a puzzled expression, completely oblivious to the dynamics at play. "What's going on here, heh?" he asks, furrowing his brow in confusion. Crosshair's steely gaze fixes on Hunter, a silent warning conveyed in the intensity of his stare. "Nothing you need to worry about, Wrecker," he replies tersely, his attention returning to you with a possessive gleam in his eyes. A mischievous smile graces your lips as you continue to tease Crosshair, relishing in the subtle power play between the two of you. "I like it when you're jealous," you murmur, your voice laced with a hint of seduction. "It's hot." Crosshair's jaw clenches visibly, his possessive instincts flaring at the thought of anyone else daring to lay eyes on you. "I'm not jealous," he retorts, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. "I just don't like the way they look at you in that dress." As you shift in his lap, the unmistakable hardness of his growing arousal presses against your thigh, almost eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. "Careful," he warns, his breath hot against your ear. "Or do you want me to show them who you belong to, right here?" You can feel the heat pooling between your thighs at his suggestive words, a shiver of anticipation coursing through your body as you meet his gaze with equal parts desire and defiance. "Maybe I do," you tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you lean in closer to kiss him, the tantalizing prospect of a public display of dominance igniting a fiery passion between you.

“Excuse us for a moment” he snarls towards his brothers and without waiting for an answer, he gets up sweeping you with him. You follow him eagerly, the music and laughter fade into the background, curiosity mingling with anticipation as you ask, "Where are you taking me?" …"Somewhere away from the gazes, where you are all mine," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. The two of you descend down to the beach, the salty breeze caressing your skin as the sound of the waves grow louder with each step. Crosshair leads you to a secluded cove nestled amidst the moonlit rocks, hidden from prying eyes, the air heavy with the salty scent of the ocean. As soon as you're out of view, Crosshair pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hunger evident in the way his hands roam beneath your dress, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. Without hesitation, he slips his hand into your panties, his fingers expertly tracing along your wet folds, immediately coaxing moans of pleasure from your lips.

Your senses reel as you kiss his neck, tasting the salt on his skin as he slides two fingers into you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It doesn't take long for him to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, leaving you whimpering for more with his skillful touch. "Tell me how bad you want me," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I want you to beg for it." Your breath catches in your throat as you gaze into his eyes, the intensity of his stare fueling the flames of your desire. "Please, Crosshair," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea. "I need you. I need you to fuck me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he lifts you off your feet and positions you atop a small boulder, his throbbing cock teasing your entrance, driving you to the brink of madness with desire. "I don't hear you begging," he taunts, his voice laced with a teasing edge. You arch your back, your body trembling with anticipation as you plead, "Please fuck me, Crosshair. I need you inside of me." You feel the tip of his cock opening you up but he doesn’t move further. “Pleeeease”you beg. "Who do you belong to?" he demands, his voice commanding and possessive. "I'm yours," you cry out, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. "I'm all yours." You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire burning as he finally guides his throbbing cock to your slick entrance and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he enters you, the sensation of his thick length stretching you to your limits sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You gasp in ecstasy as he fills you completely, every inch of him sliding deeper and deeper until he's buried to the hilt. His movements are measured and deliberate, each thrust driving you to the brink of madness as he sets a tantalizing rhythm that leaves you begging for more. With each stroke, he plunges into you with a primal hunger, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless tempo that leaves you breathless. You arch your back, your nails digging into his skin as you meet his every thrust with a desperate urgency of your own. The heat between you grows with each passing moment, the intensity of your connection igniting a wildfire of passion that consumes you both. Crosshair's eyes never leave yours, his gaze burning with raw desire as he loses himself in the primal ecstasy of your lovemaking. With every stroke, he drives you closer and closer to the edge, his cock plunging into you with an almost brutal force that pushes you to the brink of ecstasy. And then, in a dizzying explosion of pleasure, you shatter into a million pieces, your cries mingling with his own as you surrender to the overwhelming bliss of the moment and feel him filling you up with his hot cum. Together, you ride the waves of ecstasy, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

You collapse into each other's arms, your bodies slick with sweat as you bask in the afterglow of your shared release. You stay exactly like this, kissing his neck and taking in his scent until his cock softens and slides out of you. "Please, never leave me," Crosshair whispers, his voice filled with vulnerability as he holds you close. "You make me feel things I never knew I could."…."I won't," you promise, your heart swelling with love for this man "I love you, Crosshair. I'm all yours.” He murmurs content with your answer, sealing your words with a tender kiss. "As much as I hate it but we should probably head back to the others," he suggests after a while, breaking the tranquil silence that envelops the secluded cove. You can't help but smirk mischievously as you glance down at the telltale evidence of your recent escapade, the faint trail of his cum oozing out of you between your legs glistening in the moonlight. "Like this?" you tease, gesturing playfully to the sticky residue on your skin. Crosshair chuckles in response, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "At least now they'll know you're mine," he quips, his tone laced with possessive affection. Without waiting for a response, you swiftly shed your dress and dart towards the ocean, signaling for him to join you. "Are you sure about this?" Crosshair hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on your inviting form, before casting off his clothes and wading into the water beside you. The moonlight casts a soft glow over your naked bodies as you bask in the warm waves, the salty ocean breeze caressing your skin, heightening the intensity of your connection. Lost in the moment, you exchange tender kisses amidst the rhythmic ebb and flow of the sea. In between the sound of the crashing waves he softly murmurs “I love you” into your ear, before placing a kiss on your forehead, so quiet you might have missed it, but you didn’t and you pull him as close as you can, nestling your head against his neck. But as much as you revel in this private paradise, the thought of your companions waiting pulls you back to reality. With a reluctant sigh, you disentangle yourself from Crosshair's embrace and wade out of the water, casting one final glance at his silhouette, naked and beautifully bathed in the moon's ethereal glow before you get dressed.

Your legs tremble slightly with residual pleasure as you navigate the narrow streets upwards back to the bustling fair. Crosshair's sweet words of affection echoing in your ears, painting a wide smile on your face. As you return to the group, their curious gazes turn towards you, prompting Omega to pipe up with her usual curiosity. "Did you go swimming?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement. "I thought Crosshair didn't like swimming." You grin mischievously, nodding in confirmation. "Looks like he changed his mind," you reply with a playful wink, earning a warning glance from Crosshair. Despite the dismissive look he sends Hunter's way, you gladly accept the cape offered by Hunter, wrapping it snugly around yourself to ward off the chill that has settled in your bones after the swim. With the night still young and the festivities far from over, you all decide to take a leisurely stroll around the fairgrounds, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling festival. “Can you believe how much candy that kid can pack away?" Wrecker chuckles, his deep voice carrying through the night as Omega bounces along beside him, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yeah, she's definitely going to crash hard later," you reply with a laugh, Omega, fueled by the sugar rush from her third bag of candies, runs around happily, her laughter echoing through the night air. The moment you set foot on Pabu, you knew there was something special about this place. Its tranquil beaches, bustling markets, and vibrant culture captured your heart from the very beginning. And now, as you wander through the streets with your friends and fellow crew mates, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Spending time here with the entire crew is a rare treat, a precious opportunity to forget about the harsh realities of the outside world and simply enjoy each other's company. Here, on the sandy shores of Pabu, you can all let your guard down and revel in the simple pleasures of life. But perhaps the most beautiful part of it all is seeing Omega's eyes light up with joy and wonder at the sights and sounds of the festival. Here, she can be a child for a moment, free to laugh and play without a care in the world. And for that, you are endlessly grateful.

But even Omega has her limits, and soon she begins to tire, her steps slowing as exhaustion sets in. With a weary sigh, Wrecker scoops her up into his arms, cradling her gently as she drifts off to sleep, her breathing steady and calm against his chest. “Alright, let’s call it a night” Hunter suggests and you all agree. With Wrecker carrying Omega and you wrapped in Crosshair's arm, you walk together in comfortable silence, the warmth of his embrace cosy against the cool night air. As you reach your apartment, you bid farewell to the crew, promising to see them bright and early the next day. Omega, awake again and ever the optimist, insists that Crosshair accompanies her for a swim in the morning, a request that leaves Hunter thoroughly amused and with a chuckle, you and Crosshair make your way inside, the soft glow of the apartment welcoming you home. “I’m not gonna like it” he sighs after the door has closed behind you. “You don’t like anything” you remind him. “I like you” he objects, pulling you in for a loving kiss.

[reader6898]

Day of Love

Pairing: Crosshair x female reader

Summary: Crosshair doesn't care much for the day of love but for you he's willing to go all out

Warning: cute fluff, Crosshair being a secret romantic, little suggestive at the end

A/n: happy Valentine's day everyone. I've decided to give some love to our favorite sniper. Enjoy!

The day of Love: the one day out of the year that couples get together and celebrate their love for one another with cheap romance cards and expensive dinners.

No one was immune to the nat-born holiday and that included Crosshair. The first time the clone had heard of the holiday he had thought that it was a useless holiday that only the nat-borns celebrated. That was until you came along.

when Crosshair had met you, you had been working at Dex's diner as a waitress while going to University and saving up enough credits to get out of your crappy apartment. Crosshair had needed space from his brothers while they were on shore leave and Dex's was the only place he could think of besides 79s. It had been too early to drink so he had decided on the diner. He had taken a seat in your section away from everyone else and when you had come up to the table to take his order you had taken his breath away. He had been so taken aback by you that he stuttered over his words when he went to order. you had giggled at him and Crosshair could've fainted right there. who knew that the broody sniper of clone force 99 could get so flustered over a woman he just met.

At the end of his breakfast and after he was finally able to compose himself Crosshair managed to muster up the courage to ask you out for a cup caf. You had agreed and Crosshair couldn't have been happier. Crosshair hung out at the diner the entire time and when you finally go off of your shift the two of you ended up at a cute little caf shop just around the corner. You ended up talking about anything and everything until the caf shop was closing and while you didn't want the day to end you had to get out of your uniform and go to your night class. You gave Crosshair your comm number and that night while you were in class Crosshair asked you out on another date and you said yes. After that day everything was history.

Now, the day of love was here and Crosshair was preparing to spoil his beautiful Cyare. After spending weeks of trying to figure out what he wanted to do he had decided on making you a romantic dinner at his apartment. He could've gone the simple route with your favorite bouquet of flowers, dinner at one of those expensive restaurants, and then straight to the lovemaking afterwards but Crosshair didn't want to do any of that. You had deserved better. So, Crosshair decided to make you your favorite dinner and he had went out and bought you a beautiful heart locket that you spotted in a boutique on your last date and placed a picture of the two of you together inside of it. Crosshair didn't actually know how to cook this particular dish so he got help from an elderly twi'lek neighbor who was a chef back on his home planet and showed him how to make it. Crosshair had thanked him and when he told him that he could repay him for his kindness by helping get him around to doctor's appointments and to the store the twi'lek dismissed him and told him there was no need, that he knew what it was like to be young and in love.

The food was now cooking in the kitchen and Crosshair was finishing up getting ready as you were going to be by soon in about twenty minutes. He checked over his clothes one last time and sprayed some cologne you had gotten him for his name day on and once the final look was put together he went out onto the balcony and set up the little table. He threw on a table cloth and lit a couple of candles that he borrowed. He checked on the food once he was done on the balcony and then made sure he had your gift all ready. He let out a sigh as he was satisfied with everything and now all he had to do was wait for you to arrive.

Twenty minutes later you arrive at Crosshair's apartment all dressed up and when you ring the bell Crosshair answers it almost immediately. He gives you a quick kiss in the cheek and takes your coat from you. He hangs it up in the closet by the door and when he looks at you he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be with you. He takes ahold of you by the hips and kisses you on the lips. You kiss one another for a minute and you eventually come up for air. "Hi." "You look gorgeous, Kitten." You smile and lean into Crosshair's embrace. Crosshair takes ahold of your hand in his and leads you out onto the balcony.

When you see the little setup you couldn't help but feel giddy. Crosshair pulls out your chair and you take a seat. Next, Crosshair pours the both of you a nice glass of champagne and takes a seat across from you. You clink your glasses together and you take a sip of the fancy champagne. Crosshair takes the gift he got you out of his pocket and slides it across the table. "Cross, you didn't have to get me anything." Crosshair shrugs. "I know. But I knew how much you've been wanting it since you saw it in the window." You take the small gift and unwrap it. When you open the box you see the locket and look up at Crosshair. "You remembered." Crosshair smirks. "Only for you, Kitten, only for you." You open the locket and see the picture of the two of you inside. "Oh, Cross. I love it." You lean across the table and give your beloved sniper a peck on the lips. "Help me put it on?" Crosshair stands up and goes to stand behind you. He takes the locket from you and places it on you. You look down at it and turn around. "Thank you." Crosshair gives you a smile and places a kiss on your lips again as the timer goes off. "I'll be back." Crosshair leaves and you turn back to your champagne. You take a couple of more sips and after a couple of minutes Crosshair comes out with a couple of plates of food. when you saw that it was your favorite dish you looked at Crosshair as he takes a seat. "You made this?"

Crosshair blushes and rubs the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. I wanted to do something special for you." Now it was your turn to blush. "Well, it looks delicious. I can't wait to eat it." You pick up your fork and dig in. You let out a moan and Crosshair smirks before digging into his own food.

After dinner the two of you hang out on the balcony enjoying the quiet night and when your favorite song comes on the radio Crosshair takes you in his arms and the two of you slow dance to the song.

You lay your head on Crosshair's chest and he holds you tightly as you sway slowly back and forth. The two of you were so lucky to have one another to celebrate the day of love and you wouldn't have it any other way. You look up at Crosshair at the same time he looked down at you and you smiled. "I love you, Crosshair." Crosshair bends down and his lips hover over yours. "I love you too Kitten." He kisses you and you moan a little as Crosshair sticks his tongue into your mouth.

You moan a little louder this time and Crosshair pulls away. "How about we go into the bedroom and I show you another part of me that you love." Crosshair smirks at the same time you blush and Crosshair throws you over his shoulder. You shriek a little and then laugh as Crosshair carries you and walks the two of you through the hallway into the bedroom where you know you won't be leaving for the rest of the night.

Tagging: @techs-stitches @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @the-rain-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @wings-and-beskar @rexxdjarin @sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @moonlightwarriorqueen @cw80831 @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @cloneloverrrrr @eternal-transcience

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"In Darkness, We Transcend"

Chapter 3: "The Chosen One"

Series Description: In a mission gone wrong, Obi-Wan has vanished. It’s up to Anakin to find the ex-Jedi turned Michelin star chef who may know where he is. To say they don’t exactly get along would be an understatement. But with a shared goal, who knows what’s possible?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Lots of cursing, mentions of death, culty things, weapon usage, 

A/N: Unfortunately, this chapter took forever! I’m really excited about where the story is going—I have a feeling there may be a little Kenobi rescue mission soon… As always, inbox is open, requests are open, and any and all feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

Coruscant is the planet that never slept- so neither did you. 

Being a chef and working at one of Coruscant’s finest meant there wasn’t a lot of room for error. Which meant there wasn’t a lot of room for sleep either. 

When the idea of “Like a Bantha!” came to mind, you spent every waking hour working to make it a reality. When you considered bringing to life a 5-star Nubian-style restaurant to Coruscant’s upper levels, you immediately made some calls. It’s not like it hadn’t been attempted before; plenty of Nubian eateries were around, but nothing like this had been created and survived- thrived even. But that was them, and this was you. 

You knew yourself. You knew your passion, devotion, and creativity. You knew you had it in you. When you weren’t trying to make calls about grants, builders, and possible spaces, you were sketching out every idea you had. You kept a series of notebooks on you at all times. The first was for menu ideas as you traveled far and wide throughout the planet, as well as other planets, to try various foods, drinks, and cultures. You looked at their restaurants, seeing what worked and what didn’t. What ideas you may implement and ones you certainly wouldn’t. You befriended the staff, chefs, and managers, all giving you closer work to see how their system works and how their restaurant was run. Although Coruscant was huge, the restaurant community was pretty tight-knit- at least the classier places were. 

And that was how Notebook 2 was born. The second notebook kept every restaurant secret, advice, and architectural idea you had in it. You knew you wanted a lot of greenery, wines, and furniture representing the planet you came from and loved. Besides the menu speaking for itself, you needed the restaurant to speak for itself, too. You spent countless hours seeking the right florals, tables, silverware, and other “meaningless” things. It had to be perfect- everything needed to tell a story. A glorious restaurant plan was constructed, along with a suspicious budget. Writing in this notebook only produced more ideas, and something beautiful was born. 

“What is it you like about this place, Chef Na'vida?” You took out your notebook, attempting to read the Twi'lek’s expressions before you. He had a thick accent and a smile that never seemed to fade.

“Well- you know- the kitchen is, uh, how do you say- like a bantha?” You laughed at this.

“Like a bantha?!” You exclaimed, thinking it was just the most amusing thing you had heard. 

“Well, yes.” He grins and continues to frost the dessert in front of him. “During service, it’s loud, chaotic, terrifying even. But once we close and the cleaning begins, it’s calm, and relaxing, and honestly therapeutic in ways.“

“Like a bantha.” You mumble, the grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Like a bantha.”

You had engraved that interaction in your mind, his words adhering with you like no others. Although it was amusing, he had detailed the precise reason you chose to open your own spot. You loved the disorder, knowing it ultimately would settle down and fade into something worthwhile. You never received that feeling from the Order; it never gave you that drive. You craved that constant adrenaline rush.

When the restaurant had developed further, you gave Na'vida a call to let him know you were naming it in his honor. He passed away before he ever got to experience it. 

“Like a Bantha!” very quickly put you on the map and made you famous. You participated in several interviews, photoshoots, and talk shows, all of which were extremely invested in your craft, your tastes, and how you brought something incredible to life. You’d be lying if you claimed you never enjoyed it. The fame was nice- the money even nicer. The connections always helped, and the restaurant became a celebrity hot spot. You were the hot spot. Getting to befriend you was an honor among the Chef community. The average Joe and celebrities alike fawned over you. It never died down, and you honestly never grew tired of it. You felt as a Jedi you were rarely given the credit you deserved. Now, this was different. Everything you do is important, and you could give something back to your community. And everything you did was under the name “Y/N L/N,” a pseudo-name for your new life. Of course, there were those who knew you were once a Jedi, but surprisingly, it was rare for you to be questioned about it. 

As you both closed in on your apartment building, you carefully strolled down the dimly lit alleys, trying to calm yourself. Anakin walked closely next to you, making sure to scan for your surroundings. Although it was about 2 a.m., you passed plenty of people on the streets. There were several bars, clubs, and restaurants still open. He didn’t like the scenery; there was too much that could actually cause a scene. 

You zig-zagged through the crowd, casually throwing your hood up in the process. You knew the Children of Nox were widespread, and after an unscheduled meeting with both Gil and Anakin, you weren’t ready to take many chances. Anakin noticed your actions and put his hood up as well. If you already thought stealth was a safe option for now, then he trusted your judgment. 

At the last second, you decided to take a shortcut and turned the corner, heading down a particular sketchy alley. You glanced at a group of Rodians talking in hushed voices near the end of it, clearly dealing with something that wasn’t meant to be seen by others. Your breath hitched suddenly, and you forgot all about the man beside you. You hastily turned around, tripping over your own cloak and hitting your head against Anakin’s shoulder. You let out a quiet “oof,” but it wasn’t quiet enough. Their attention suddenly turned to you, and before you could think, Anakin was already pulling you into a little offshoot supply closet. 

“What the fuck are you doing!” You push him and turn towards the exit, eager to handle the conflict you started. Before you can grab the handle, his hand is on your wrist. 

He pulls you back inside before you can get away from him and spins you around, putting your back against his chest while he holds a hand over your mouth and on top of your head. You try to argue with him against his gloved hand, but he tightens his grip against your mouth. Obviously, there was something you were missing here. 

The Rodians approach near the closet while they talk amongst themselves, the conversation growing louder as the conflict rises between them. The sound of a blaster goes off right outside the door. You jump slightly, and Anakin pulls you in tighter against him. You begin trembling slightly, the gravity of everything starting to come down on you, and you hear him quietly, “Shhhh,” to make you more relaxed. He caresses his ungloved hand against your head, slightly massaging your scalp. He didn’t know you well, but he didn’t need you panicking, and he certainly didn’t need you to cause a scene. You finally relax in his arms, still feeling frightened of what could have happened.

The talking and fighting begin to deescalate, and the sound of the footsteps trails into the distance. Anakin slightly relaxes his grip on you, withdrawing his gloved hand from on top of your lips and putting it on your shoulder, still keeping a protective stance. 

“Stay here, please. I want to make sure it’s safe.” He gently turns you around to look at him, giving you a playfully stern look. You nod in response and offer a worrisome smile. 

He steps out and checks, and you feel your heart rate increase slightly from his absence- not that you’d ever admit that was the reason. He quickly returns to retrieve you, giving you a gentle nod that it’s secure to step out into the alley again. You both begin walking again, refusing to give each other eye contact. Assuming it was better to not talk about what just happened, neither of you said a word for quite some time, maintaining an uncomfortably separate distance from one another. 

“Y/N, do you take this route every night?” He calmly asks as you both continue walking down the alley.

“Most of the time. It’s usually safer- I’m not sure what’s in the air tonight.” You turn to face him, letting out a slight chuckle, the corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk. His tense expression doesn’t waver, but your smile does. You continue down the path, but he stops in his tracks, continuing to examine the surroundings. 

“What would have happened if I wasn’t here?” You turn around to face him, cocking your head at his question. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes and scoff at the audacity and ego of the man in front of you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt, attempting to believe he cared about the safety and well-being of a woman he just met. Maybe you should let up on your abrasiveness towards him. Maybe.

“Skywalker—I—it’s okay. It’s never typically like this. And besides,” your eyes flick up to him, studying the misplaced concern as bewilderment washes over you. “I can handle myself. I was once a Jedi, too, you know.” You try to smile at him again, but he doesn’t let up. 

“I just-”

“Anakin, please- we need to keep moving. Please.” You look at him gently, and he nods. You didn’t understand why he cared. Your concern involved Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan only. Anakin Skywalker was the last thing on your mind. You couldn’t have him treating you this way, being this soft and nice, especially after the Council’s warnings. As much as you disobeyed the Council and tore yourself away from the Order, you assumed if they kept you away from the chosen one for your entire life, there had to be a good reason to do so.  

You both walk for another 10 minutes, the area around you becoming increasingly more welcoming as you approach your penthouse. The location around the restaurant was excellent as well; it was those few streets in between that were sketchy, and always sketchy, no matter what time of day it was.

You step in front of your building, nodding to the doorman as he opens the doors for you and Anakin while telling you goodnight.  

Anakin stood in the lobby of the building, glancing around at its beauty. Its tall, vaulted ceilings with intricate designs were a grand display of the wealth of those living there. The architecture and molding adorned the walls in muted blues, greens, and creams. 

You turned around and smiled at his reaction, darting away and moving to the elevator before he could see your face. 

“C'mon, Skywalker.” You strolled into the elevator, and he hurried along next to you, watching the lobby he was intrigued with vanish as the doors shut before him.

“This is a really nice building. I didn’t realize-”

“Didn’t realize what?” you interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. A slight smirk grew as you saw the panic flash on his face.

“Nothing- sorry.” He trailed off and broke eye contact, peeking around the elevator you were both in. He felt as if he had been in there for an eternity, the elevator continuing to rise higher and higher. He huffed in annoyance. Why were you even going to your apartment in the first place?

The elevator stops with an elegant Ding! And he immediately feels less tense. As you both step out onto your floor, you unlock your penthouse door and stroll inside, welcoming him in. 

Your space was a lot more refined than he assumed, accompanied by the most exquisite kitchen he had seen in his entire life. And it was apparent that it was well used. Like the restaurant, your penthouse was also reminiscent of Naboo, reminding him of the fond memories. He kept forgetting you and Padme grew up together. When looking at your apartment, that much became very obvious. 

Anakin glanced at the artwork that graced your walls, as well as a few Naberrie family portraits. He slightly smiled at a picture of the young Padme he remembered, grateful he got out of Tattooine when he did. Graduation pictures, coronation pictures, and assorted family photos were all along the walls of your entryway. You had some shoes on the floor, as well as books and miscellaneous jewelry scattered along the table in your hallway. 

You took off your cloak, throwing it on the back of a chair as you made your way to the opposite side of the island as him. 

He noticed your kitchen's beautiful pastel multicolored tile and the dark floors provided a lovely accent. There were numerous plants, all well-kept and maintained. He thought of his pitiful half-watered plant in his quarters. He really needed to do something about that; it was getting pathetic at this point. The countertops were a beautiful green stone, accompanied by cream-colored cabinets and the palest pink accent walls. 

“Want some tea?” You began to pour your own into a small mug. 

He glanced over towards your living room, taking in the beautiful fabrics, artwork, and random decor. He noticed there were a lot of different kinds of stones scattered around the space. A protocol droid came around the corner and grabbed your cloak, returning it to what he assumed was your bedroom. He stared at a particular artwork; it was unpleasantly dark. It made him feel a little off-put. It was hung on the wall above your sofa, filled with deep reds, blues, blacks, and greens. It looked like it could be a plant or maybe an eyeball, but it was definitely something living. And more unsettling than anything. Why would you hang something like that in your home? He just didn’t-

“Skywalker!” You yelled, holding out a cup of hot tea for him to grab, suddenly gaining his attention. 

“Oh! Thank you.” He gracefully accepts the cup and nods, smiling at your eye roll. “Sorry, I was just appreciating your nice space. That painting is fucking creepy, though.” He takes a sip of the tea. It was the same as he had in Naboo. 

You laughed at his derogatory comment towards your art, setting down your tea to stride over to where the painting was hung.

“This is actually from the Children of Nox, which is why it’s so unsettling.” He walks up beside you, and you turn to face him as you explain the artwork.

“It was hung in their main temple. Obviously, the temple is highly secure now, more so than it ever was. But honestly, the fact that I managed to sneak this out is fucking crazy.” You sipped on your tea, turning to Anakin as you scanned his face, unsure of what he could be thinking. His eyebrows furrowed as he licked his lips, unsure how he felt about the sight before him.

“It’s a painting of their all-seeing eye. It represents the highest member of their order, their beloved high priestess. The high priestess is a compelling dark-side user, one that I have yet to encounter. The painting consists of the blood of other high priestesses and the painting itself was very valuable to the cult. I stole it as a parting gift to myself.” 

He cocked a brow at this, surprised by your confession. He doesn’t respond and instead sips his tea. He turns away from you, walking back to your kitchen. You feel yourself annoyed by his coldness and turn to follow him. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” you question, biting your lip nervously. He sets his tea down and looks up at you, more frustrated than before. 

“I just don’t understand how you could have associated yourself with something so evil. You hang that painting on the wall as a trophy, despite all the bloodshed and horrors that cult has committed and represented. It’s just- It’s not very Jedi-like.”

“Well, Skywalker, for one, I’m not a Jedi anymore.” You stroll from him to the other side of the counter, forcing direct eye contact between the two of you. The tension was rising in the room, and you swallowed nervously. He didn’t know; you could feel yourself trying to tell you that. But you were offended. You were offended he assumed you could even stand for something like that. You were slightly hurt by his harsh words and suddenly very angry, and those past resentments towards Skywalker made their way to your tongue. Before you knew it, you were yelling.

“And I didn’t have a choice, either. The Council asked me to infiltrate The Children of Nox. It’s not like I wanted to. I witnessed awful things, I was asked to do awful things, and I had awful things done to me. And no matter what, the Council asked me to persist and get as close to them as possible. My sanity never mattered to them; my morals certainly didn’t either. I was asked to leave behind the Order and, my feelings and everything that was important to me in the name of research for the Council. In the name of the greater good. And when my mission failed, I returned to the Order. And I fucking wrote. I wrote every single thing I could remember, every minuscule detail. And that was the last thing I did before I said, “Fuck you,” and left. I couldn’t do it anymore. The Order never cared about me; they cared about what I could find out for them. I was nothing but a foot soldier for them, like your clones they put into battle.” 

Anakin felt his heart twist with your closing statement. The Order’s treatment of clones never sat right with him. He gulped slightly at this new confession, feeling a new respect for you that he didn’t before—and a new sort of guilt as well. You could read everything he was thinking, and you had a feeling mentioning the treatment of the clones to the General of the beloved 501st would do something. You were grateful it worked but exhausted from your emotions. 

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt that way.” He looked to the ground, taking a small sip of tea as the remorse continued to wash over him. You felt bad as you witnessed his reaction, walking over to him and awkwardly putting your hand on his shoulder. He sat up to meet your eyes, noticing a certain glossiness over them.

‘It’s okay—I just—I didn’t mean to yell. This isn’t your fault, Anakin. I understand how you feel and how this all looks. I’ve never talked about that stuff since it happened, and it’s been a few years. It’s hard not to get emotional about it. Something tells me you’ve had your own run-ins with the order, too.” You smile at him as he laughs slightly.

“You could say that.” You stepped away from him, moving your hand away. After the loss of contact, your fingers tingled. You needed to focus on Kenobi, not how the situation made you feel.

“Okay, let’s get to work.” Your face turns cold again as you motion for Anakin to follow you. He bites his lip, confusion washing over him. Just as you both were getting along, you acted this way towards him again. He shakes his head, thinking that maybe being friendly with one another will take more time than he thought it would. 

You lead him further into your apartment, down a hallway with a locked door. You pull out a heavy set of keys, flicking through them and grabbing the right one. You carefully unlock the door, peeking into the room slowly before motioning for him to follow after you. 

His jaw drops. You really have done your research.

Your study makes his look clean. There are piles and piles of books everywhere, followed by so many notebooks, recipes, cookbooks, and numerous notes hanging on the walls. He glances over to a map of the galaxy, different threads connecting different people throughout the stars. He looks above and sees multiple pictures of faces, all of them relating to the Children of Nox. A scene that would freak an average person out has Anakin increasing his respect for you. He steps closer and begins to read some of the notes around the map, different sightings, meetings, and sayings you had overheard throughout the past few years. 

“The trail stopped cold 6 months ago when Gil Paven dropped off the face of the Galaxy.” You walk up next to him, tracing your finger over the last note you wrote. Gil has vanished, Amara with him. They were last seen in level 156. Eric hasn’t heard anything since they took in the new recruit. 

“However, Gil Paven himself paid me a quite horrifying visit tonight right before you did.” You turn to face Anakin, and he suddenly raises a brow at this revelation. 

“How come?” 

“They want me back. Otherwise, they’ll put a bounty on my head. Convenient timing. Something tells me he was trying to get to me before you did. Funny of him to assume I would do anything of the sort.” You shake your head and chuckle` at the idea. No fucking way.

“Well, something tells me he didn’t mean it.” Anakin turns to face you, suddenly crossing his arms. 

“What do you mean by that?” You step back slightly defensively. 

“Those Rodians were after you, Y/N. You walked right into them before they could get to you first.” Anakin admits, and you freeze. He was right; you were just too blinded by your own ego to realize it. You turn away from him, shielding the emotion on your face. 

“Anakin-”

“Y/N, trust me.” He approaches you and puts his hand on your bicep. Suddenly, you’re back in the alley.

Anakin’s force energy flows through your body, and you can see the Rodians in front of you, as well as yourself. You see their eyes, their plans for you. You can read their every thought, every corrupt plan they have for you. It had the Children of Nox written all over it, but Anakin wouldn’t know that. They spot you both, and you’re suddenly pulling yourself away from them again.

You break from the trance, feeling Anakin’s force energy leave you as you open your eyes to face him. The concern is written all over his face, and you divert your eyes from his once again. 

“Fuck- I- Okay. We need to move fast.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, scratching your head as you walk away frantically. You slightly trip over a couple of books before catching yourself on the desk before you. You can feel the apprehension radiating off of the man behind you, knowing he was about to move forward and attempt to assist you. Your head automatically starts spinning as you try to brush off his unwelcome feelings. You search through a drawer, pulling out a box with an intricate wood carving of a tree on top. Anakin moves closer. You carefully open it and pull out your lightsaber, carefully clipping it to your belt. You gesture to Anakin to come back over as you move toward your holoscreen, pulling up a picture of a man. 

“This is my contact, Eric. We need to get to him. He’s a few levels down, but I wanted to bring you up to speed before we went. He can be intense at times.” You face him, and Anakin shakes his head, laughing at your concern.

“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

You roll your eyes before glancing back at the holoscreen and seeing that it is nearly 4:30. Fuck. There was no fucking way you were getting to Eric before the morning. He’d probably kill you and Anakin both. You sigh.

“Anakin,” he faces you with soft eyes, “We’ll have to go in the morning; it’s nearly 4:30. I have a guest room you can stay in tonight if you’d like- actually- I’m asking you to stay.” You wince at your words slightly, “I don’t have time to wait for you in the morning.”

He raised a brow at your words and smirked. 

You fake a smile, holding back the malice on your tongue. You swiftly place your lightsaber on the table and shut the holoscreen down. As you exit your study, you motion for Skywalker to follow closely behind, and he obeys, being welcomed into your home despite your attitude. 

“You brought a FUCKING JEDI? I thought you were DONE with the Order?” Eric yells as you put your face in your hands, sighing.

Anakin scoffs and circles around the weapons table, tracing his fingers over blasters, knives, and assorted dangerous objects. He glances over at you, noticing the stress in your energy. He knows there is more to this for you than just Obi-Wan, and he knows that, oddly enough, he is inclined to help.

“Eric, If you’d let me fucking explain, then maybe you would understand why I brought a Jedi!” You stand up, motioning to Anakin as you yell at the short man in front of you. “And besides, this is the fucking chosen one.” The room goes silent. What the fuck was happening? 

Anakin furrows his brow at your words, unsure why that mattered. He is usually flattered, but this time, his status isn’t a good thing. He briefly reads Eric’s reaction; it is full of hostility, resentment, and... sympathy? 

“I see,” Eric swallows briefly, moving quickly towards the holoscreen, “So Kenobi is missing? And Gil paid you a visit? What a fucker. Always knew that fucking cockroach would show up one way or another. He never could resist you.” You roll your eyes and scoff. 

“Don’t remind me.”

“And Amara?” He questions as he swiftly pulls up some files. 

“Still nothing. Apparently, they want me back.” You shrug, cringing slightly at the thought.

“And?” Eric faces you after pulling up a file on Gil, his smug face taking up the holoscreen.

“What do you mean ‘And?’- That’s it.” You scowl at his contempt. He didn’t possess the urgency you needed.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you, running a hand through his dark hair. I have reason to believe Kenobi is being held here,” he says, pulling up a picture of the temple on Mustafar. 

“Fuck,” You mumble, your tone catching Anakin’s attention.

“Fuck is right,” Eric moves closer to the screen, sighing as he looks at the Temple. “High Priestess herself must want him badly. The old contact that led us to Gil last time mentioned something briefly about Amara wanting a Jedi. Can’t imagine it’s anyone else- that’s my lead.”

“Wait, I’m confused-” Anakin starts before being interrupted by the courageous man in front of him.

“Wait your turn, Jedi,” Eric sneers. “Kenobi is being held at the mothership. The chances of you both sneaking in there and then sneaking him out—especially when he holds mass importance to them—are very, very slim. You’ll need more than the force on your side for this one.” 

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding Anakin’s accusing gaze. He watches as you lick your lips nervously, fidgeting with the blaster in your hands. 

“Well, then, where do we begin?” He swallows nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing while he ponders the idea of this mission. None of this was going to be good. None of it.

“Luckily for you two,” Eric cocks a blaster, setting it down next to him, “The head chef at the Temple owes me one.” You shake your head. No fucking way. 

“Well, that’s convenient,” Anakin says, turning towards you and wiggling his eyebrows playfully. You sigh. 

“Well then, shall we begin,” You mumble, standing up and turning towards Anakin.

“Wait,” Eric furrows his brows, grabbing your arm. Y/N, just saving Kenobi doesn’t end this fight—you know that. We’ve never had an opportunity like this to end it all once and for all, not since you were part of them. We need to do more than save Kenobi—we need to save them all.” 

The weight in the room shifted; you knew there was more to this. So did Anakin. You felt nauseous, sweat pouring down your brow as you contemplated your next words carefully. None of this was easy—it never would be. But were you ready to face it? That was the million-dollar question. You swallowed, knowing exactly what needed to be done. Anakin may not like it- Hell, you didn’t either, but it’s time for this all to end, once and for all.

“Okay,” you stand up straighter, avoiding the lingering gaze of the two in front of you. Instead, you unclip the lightsaber off of your hip, holding it in your hand as you gently trace the intricate silver details along the hilt. “We’ll finish them all off, then. It’s the right thing to do.” Your palms are now sweaty as well, and your heart rate peaks as your brain tries to wrap itself around the slightly irrational and prompt decision you just made. You needed to get away from this- from the people around you and the feelings clouding your brain. The longer you waited, the harder it became to breathe.

“Y/N, wait!” Anakin watches you leave and attempts to pull you back, several questions threatening to spill from his lips. He could see the sweat, feel your heartbeat, and feel the feelings lingering behind your eyes. You walk away through the small corridors of Eric’s house and into a nearby restroom, the panic attack edging itself into your brain. 

Leaning against the wall, you mumble affirmations to yourself, breathing deeply, avoiding thinking about anything. You try to clear your mind, desperate for some peace. Desperate for something other than the situation at hand. Your body shook, your heart rate was in your ears, and your mouth was incredibly dry. You clear your throat, pick yourself off from the wall, and look into the mirror above the sink in front of you. You looked like a wreck, nails bitten, hair disheveled, and the bags under your eyes had bags. Needing a refresh, you gently splash some water on your face, patting it dry with a towel on the counter.

Your back pocket buzzes; pulling it out, you see 4 missed calls from Cora and about 50 new messages. Fuck. You take a deep breath and dial her number, hearing the line pick up the second you ring. 

“Chef?? Is everything okay? You didn’t come in to prep this morning and-”

“Cora, I need you to listen to me,” Your tone is serious, laced with a hint of sorrow. “I need you to be me for the time being.”

“Chef-”

“Listen to me. Please.” You silently beg, “Chef, I need you to be me. Please. I’ve had a crazy 24 hours, and you know I haven’t missed a day of work since opening and-” Your voice is overcome by the panic attack you were having, and you failed to realize how obvious it was.

“I’ll do it. I hope everything is okay, Chef. We’re all here for you.” You suddenly breathe out at her response, unaware of the breath you had been holding since you called. 

“Thank you, Cora; you seriously have no idea how much this means to me,”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated. And stay in touch- I’ve never done this before, Chef. Not trying to fuck it up.” She giggles, attempting to lighten the mood slightly. 

“I will, no need to worry. Thank you once again.” You smile slightly at her words, ending the call and leaning back against the wall, letting yourself sink to the floor. 

You didn’t know when you started crying, just that once you did, it was hard to stop. You tried to stay quiet, knowing the men outside the door could probably hear. You choked back a sob, throwing your hand over your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut.

Anakin could hear you on the other side of the door, his heart slightly aching for you. But more than that- he could feel your pain. It was like he knew like he knew what was wrong and could take it all from you in an instant- but instead, he felt it too. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, turning back around to the headstrong man with him. 

“Eric, what don’t I know?” He approached Eric, looking at the screen with Gil’s face on it. The two of them studied the file. 

“What do you mean?” Raising a brow at Anakin’s question, he turns around with a smirk, tugging at his lips.

“I mean, like,” Anakin inhales sharply, “Why is she so cold towards me, and why does it matter if I’m the chosen one? I don’t understand the contingency of all of this.” 

“Oh, you mean she hasn’t told you?” Eric exclaims, crossing his arms across his chest, looking particularly amused with the annoyed Jedi in front of him. 

“Hasn’t told me what?” Anakins' voice was notably harsh, and he bit his lip in confusion. Eric smiled, motioning for him to follow him, and he did. He was being led to a more private room within his house, what he could only assume was Eric’s study.

“So, What exactly do you know about Y/N?” Eric leans against the wall, grinning. He knew this was going to be interesting. He also knew he probably shouldn’t be entertaining this at all, but he was doing it to help you. He knew this wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Well,” Anakin pondered the thought for a moment, furrowing his brows as reflected on Eric’s question. Did he really know anything about you? “I know she’s a chef of a restaurant-”

“Of a restaurant? Just a restaurant?” Eric scoffed at the Jedi's ignorance. Obviously, you don’t know much.” 

“I wasn’t finished-” Eric irritated Anakin. That much was obvious. But pointing out his arrogance and ignorance- well, that was a little too much for the Jedi. “I know the order forced her to join the Children of Nox. I don’t exactly know why. I know she has some weird resentment for me- no idea why. I know her family and her sister. And I know her books on the Children of Nox- I’ve read everything she’s ever written- it was the little bit of peace I could afford to have in this chaos of a fucking galaxy right now.” 

“You are the reason. The reason for it all.” Eric blurts out suddenly, squeezing his eyes and lips shut immediately afterward. Anakin raises a brow, crossing his arms defensively at Eric’s bold statement. What the fuck was he talking about? 

“Let me explain—you may want to sit down for this.” Eric motions to a chair in his study for Anakin to sit in. “And don’t tell her I told you this—I know her. She would never tell you, but I think it’ll make your life easier if you know.”

Anakin nods impatiently—he desperately needs the rest of this story. He didn’t like the feeling of this from the beginning, and now, knowing he may be involved, well, that wasn’t something he was necessarily excited about hearing. 

“Since Y/N was a child, the council kept her away from you.” Eric paced the room in front of Anakin, choosing his next words carefully, “For the longest time, she didn’t know why. She came back from the Children of Nox mission wanting to stay with The Order- I believe this was right after you had returned from protecting her sister. And your previous master- Master Kenobi- told Y/N the truth. Something about feeling ashamed for keeping it from her for this long. And upon hearing the truth- Y/N decided she had enough and she left the order.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Anakin gulped nervously, lightly balling his hands in a fist and squeezing to calm himself. 

“She—well, she is also part of the Chosen One prophecy, actually,” Eric mumbles softly, diverting himself from Anakin’s stunned gaze. 

“She- what?” Anakin stood up abruptly in disbelief- there was no fucking way, “You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m not- and that is exactly how she felt.” Eric nods his head reassuringly, feeling a pang of guilt for him, “She was kept away from you for years- the Council fearing the possibilities of your strength together- at least that’s the working theory as to why they did it. But she was held back- her potential abandoned because the Council decided that you were their Chosen one- not her. It isn’t your fault- you had no idea. She’s just- well- fucking stubborn is the only thing that comes to mind.”

Anakin takes a deep breath and sits back down in his seat, feeling a wave of shock, rage, and guilt hit him all at once. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around the reality that was just disclosed to him.   

“I don’t know what to say-” Anakin begins,

“Neither do I,” The boys turn, noticing you in the doorway, clearly pissed the fuck off by the conversation you just witnessed. Their hearts drop at the sight of you. You were a wave of emotions not to be fucked with- and they just committed the ultimate sin. 

“Oh fuck.”

Chapter 4.

[antianakin]

Funny thing about the Mandoclone idea is that the Clones are in a unique position to experience a ton of different cultures as well as having their own on Kamino.

Via the Clone Wars they'd have the chance to experience the culture of the Jedi, Ryloth, Courusant, Kashyyyk and any other allied planet where they may have spent an extended period period of time. As compared to Mandalore which was an unaligned system that didn't interact much with them.

Like imagine if instead of "vode" the 212th used the word "nera" after Waxer and Boil introduced it to them from their time on Ryloth.

A group of Clones spend a long time living with the Wookies and adopt some of their behavior.

They spend a bunch of time on Courusant and get used to big city living.

There're limitless possibilities for the different divisions to branch out into their own miniature cultures based on who their Jedi is and the kind of people they meet out in the Galaxy. I don't know why people fixate on Mandalore.

I imagine people fixate on Mandalore because there's a lot of EU content and lore describing what Mando culture might look like which has spawned a lot of fandom engagement sort-of expanding on what Mando culture is and could be. Mandoclones are just... simple and easy. You never have to put a ton of work or thought into them, tbh, because everyone who goes for it just copy/pastes some variation on Mando culture onto the clones and calls it a day: armor means everything, they say riduurok vows or whatever, they speak Mando'a and call each other vod/vod'e, they exchange gauntlets as a form of courtship or marriage ritual, they adopt everything that moves, they like spicy food. I don't even CARE about Mandos and have never sought out fics about them or read a single book from the EU that focuses on them, but I feel like I know basically everything there is to know about them because I've read a lot of fics with clones in them that repeat the exact same things over and over.

Whereas having to go for, say, Wookie culture or even Twi'lek culture via Ryloth means having to be a lot more creative with your headcanons because you're likely going to have to come up with most of it yourself since they're VASTLY less examined in Star Wars than the Mandos have been (at least, so far as I'm aware of). It just takes more work and not everybody wants to go for that in fanfic when the easy simple obvious route is right there for the taking and it's probably in your head via osmosis anyway (despite the fact that canon doesn't showcase almost any of these traits).

But I am immensely tickled by the idea of a bunch of clones bonding with wookies during the war and learning how to understand the language the way Han does and absolutely loving the idea of living in trees and stuff and in a happy fix-it AU they just move to Kashyyyk and get adopted by a wookie family.

I'd love to see more stories of clones getting invested in various different cultures. Clones who go to Pantora because they love the cold snowy weather and the various different festivities Pantora has involving winter and snow and ice and the pretty fuzzy clothing they wear to keep warm. Clones who love Tatooine or Jakku because it might be a hive of scum and villainy in some of the towns, but deserts have their own beauty. Clones joining the community on Kiros after the war as they recover from the trauma of Kadavo and find peace. Clones who figure out a way to live alongside aquatic species like Mon Cala and Nautolans because they're still drawn to water worlds even years after leaving Kamino and they're drawn to the large ocean worlds even though they can't breathe underwater like the native inhabitants.

The options are truly endless once you break away from Mandoclones and they're all great and nobody talks about any of them ever.

[illuminatedquill]

Ghost Stories 04

Feat. Sabine Wren

Story Context: (Takes place shortly before the events of Ahsoka) Sabine tries to relax in Capital City's Memorial Park only to be interrupted by the presence of a lost child separated from his friend.

The afternoon sun shone high overhead Capital City which normally would have meant boiling temperatures for the citizens below, if it weren't for the unusual cool breeze coming down from the northern seas. The resulting temperature for the day meant it was perfect for outdoor activities and, as a result, Memorial Park was filled to bursting with families looking to enjoy the weather.

Sabine had never felt comfortable in crowds and over the years since the war had ended, she had become increasingly fond of avoiding them whenever possible. But she was not exactly in the mood to just sulk and brood in her comm-tower either; even Murley, her beloved loth-cat companion, was becoming increasingly irritated at her mood swings. She had not seen him this morning for his usual breakfast, which was uncommon for him.

Sabine had decided that was her sign to get out and "touch some grass" as the saying went. So, she did.

Besides - she knew that he would want her to go outside and get some sun. Closing her eyes, she could practically see the worried expression on his face; those piercing blue eyes that never missed a single detail filled with concern.

Come on, Sabine. You're not a fungus, you're a person! Get outside and breath the fresh air for once.

Sabine snorted. The line was his typical brand of affectionate cringe and full of the goofy humor that she loved so much.

That she missed so much.

"Next!" came a voice. Sabine blinked, shook herself out of her nostalgic reverie. The food vendor, an older Twi'lek male with aqua skin and wrinkles that suggested plenty of time spent in the sun, waved impatiently at her. She stepped forward in a hurry.

"What'll it be, sweetheart?" he asked.

She scanned the menu on the vendor's stall for a brief moment. "I'll just have a bottle of your lime-twist fizzy drink, please."

"Ah, a crowd favorite on this perfect day. Good choice, good choice. Fifteen credits, please," he said.

Sabine dug out the money from her pocket and handed it over. A few moments later, the Twi'lek produced a bottle of neon green fizzy drink. She popped open the cap, took a sample sip - yes, it was still ice cold. The lime twist flavor was a perfect blend of sweet and tart.

She smacked her lips, said thanks to the vendor, and went to go find a spot somewhere secluded to enjoy her drink in peace.

Memorial Park was a large octagon of evergreen forest, filled to the brim with plants and trees native to Lothal. The city designer had wanted to keep the boundary between nature and the city seamless as possible; to put forth the idea that the two could co-exist in harmony. After the tyranny of the machine hungry Empire, the idea of healing Lothal through its beautiful fields was well-received.

But it was called Memorial Park for a reason. Artists from all over Lothal had contributed their own works to enhancing the scenery; beautiful pieces that conveyed strength, beauty, grief, and joy lay strewn all over the park for all to admire.

Sabine had, of course, had added her own touch to the park. It was a strange twist of fate that she found her secluded spot exactly where her own art had found a home.

A simple pair of stone statues, standing tall and proud, their gaze always in the direction of Lothal's rising sun. The pair were holding hands; their faces never ceasing their encouraging smiles to all who came to visit them. A dedication plaque lay at their feet, inscribed by Sabine herself:

DEDICATED TO MIRA AND EPHRAIM BRIDGER

MAY THEIR SPIRITS ALWAYS GUIDE LOTHAL TO A BRIGHTER DAY

She felt a lump form in her throat at the sight of Ezra's parents. How many hours had she spent, studying records and photographs and holo-vids, making sure she had their features perfected to the exact detail? She remembered the day Ryder, the Governor of Lothal, had seen her initial design for the statues. Sabine remembered how he had cried at the sight of his old friends again, forever memorialized for their heroic sacrifice.

One day, she promised herself, she would bring Ezra here. He hoped that her friend would like it.

Taking another sip of her fizzy drink, she spotted a nearby bench under the shade of several trees. Sabine walked over and took a seat, basking in the cool afternoon breeze rustling through the forest.

She set her drink down on the bench. Despite the day's brightness and the general sense of contentment hovering over the park, Sabine still didn't feel her mood considerably lifted. It still hung sourly over her, like a listless, grey cloud.

Sighing, she turned to reach for her drink -

Only to find a disheveled humanoid male child, covered in leaves and grass, chugging away at what was left of it.

Sabine stared at the kid, mouth slightly agape. "Hey!"

He downed the last few gulps and let out an enormous burp. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

The boy blinked at her. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was really thirsty."

"There's a food vendor not far from here," she said in an annoyed tone. "You got fifteen credits on you? Because that's how much you owe me, kid."

He blinked at her some more - and then started to cry.

Ah, kriff. Way to go, Sabine.

Feeling her momentary anger drain away, she kneeled down in front of the boy. At closer inspection, she noted some scrapes on his hands and knees - add all that to his general unkemptness, and the idea formed that he had been running from a fight.

"Hey, look. I'm sorry for getting annoyed, okay? Sit down right here," she said, gently guiding the young child onto the bench next to her.

"I'm really s-sorry. I'm lost. I got separated from my friend, Val." The boy sniffed loudly and wiped his face with a dirt-streaked sleeve.

"Were you in a fight?" Sabine asked. "With your friend?"

"No. Me and Val have been taking care of some loth kittens hiding out beneath a diner near our houses. We think the mama was taken by a poacher."

"Ah," she said. "Let me guess - the poacher came back." There were rumors that elite clientele all over the galaxy had gained an interest in garments made from loth-cat fur. Governor Ryder had come down hard on any criminal elements looking to make a fortune off the native felines, but some poachers still managed to escape through the security net set up by the Lothal Defense Force.

The boy nodded miserably. "We fought him. Val bit him on the hand. He got really angry."

Sabine arched an eyebrow at him, mildly impressed. "You fought him? A grown adult man?"

"Wasn't human. Gamorrean."

Wow. She was even more impressed. The Gamorreans were beefy, strong folk with a pig-like snout accompanied with sharp, tiny tusks that liked to punch first and ask questions later. The Hutt cartels liked to use them as guards, she had heard. They were big, ugly, mean, and could dish out a brutal beating when enraged.

"He grabbed Val and started shaking her real hard. I got scared, threw the biggest rock I could find at his ugly head. He started chasing me. I think he lost my trail on the way here. I hope Val's okay."

Sabine patted him on the back. "You two are very brave. I'm sure she's fine."

The boy sniffed again. "We promised to find each other if we ever got lost. But I'm dumb. I'm terrible with directions. I didn't even tell her where I was going."

"Hey," Sabine said gently. "She made you a promise, right? She'll find you. Just hang out here with me until she comes along."

He looked up at her. "How can you be sure that she'll be here?"

Sabine shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"Okay," said the boy, sounding less uncertain. "What's your name, lady?"

"I'm Sabine," she said, offering a hand. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm - uh . . ." The boy suddenly trailed off, looking nervous.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My parents said I shouldn't give my name to strangers."

She chuckled. "That's fair. Guess that makes me a dummy, then."

"No - no, not at all!" exclaimed the boy, looking horrified that he had potentially insulted his new friend. "That's not what I - "

His stomach rumbled really loud, piercing the forest ambiance.

The boy's cheeks were aflame. Sabine couldn't help but laugh.

"Let's go see that food vendor I was talking about," she said.

She was out another thirty credits after they had finished ordering. The kid ate like he had been starved for a week.

"Feeling better?" she asked after he had scarfed down the last morsel.

He nodded vigorously, his cheeks full of food.

"That's good - " she started to say, when a pair of tiny feet drop kicked her in the stomach. Suddenly winded, she staggered backward a few steps.

"Leave him alone!" came a voice.

The boy's face whipped around, eyes wide with surprise. "Val!" he said. "You found me!"

Sabine, doubled over in pain, said in a weak voice, "Congrats. She found you. If you could please tell her not to kick me again . . ."

He threw his arms out and stopped the young, scrawny girl from another rushing attack. "Val! It's okay. She's a friend, she helped me."

The young girl - tousled brown hair, honey colored skin, eyes the color of sea algae - paused. "Oh, uh. She did?"

"Yeah."

Sabine crawled over to the bench and used it to prop herself up. Rubbing at her stomach, she grimaced at the pair.

"Good kick," she wheezed.

Val had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm sorry."

Sabine waved her off, still catching her breath. Val whirled on her friend. "Where were you? Why did you run off like that? That mean Gamorrean was chasing after you, idiot!"

The boy blinked at his friend's surprising anger. "He was hurting you. I had to do something."

Val shoved him, tears in her eyes. "He could have torn you apart, Ezra!"

Sabine froze at the name.

"I'm really sorry, Val. I had to lead him away from you and the loth kittens - hey, are they okay?"

The young girl nodded, sniffing. "They're okay. I convinced my parents to let them stay at our house until we can find proper homes."

The boy - Ezra - looked relieved. "That's totally wizard! Can I come visit?"

Val snorted. "Of course you can, dummy."

She wrapped her friend in a bear hug. "I'm glad I found you, Ezra."

He smiled and returned the affectionate gesture. "I knew you would."

Sabine was standing now, watching them. The pain in her stomach had receded.

"Your name is Ezra?" she asked the boy.

He nodded at her. "My parents named me after the Hero of Lothal."

Val said proudly, "He's brave, just like Ezra Bridger was."

Sabine stared at them. "I can see that," she said softly.

A soft breeze blew gently through the trees. Val checked her chronometer. "We have to get going now, Ezra. Promised my Mom and Dad that we'd help out with the loth kittens."

Ezra nodded. "Okay." He turned to Sabine. "Thanks for the help."

Sabine nodded. Val stepped forward. "Sorry about the kick again. He's my best friend, you know? We watch each other's backs. And thanks for keeping Ezra safe until I found him."

"You should get moving now," Sabine replied quietly. "It'll be getting dark soon."

They both nodded and, with a final cheery wave, darted through the trees towards the park exit.

Sabine watched them go, receding into the distance until she couldn't see them anymore.

When will it be my turn?

Sabine abruptly turned towards the statues of Ezra's parents. Their faces remained jovial, as she had made them to be. She wondered how the real life Mira and Ephraim Bridger would judge her in this moment: all these years later, still not being able to find their son.

"It's not our Ezra, I know," she said in a shaky voice. There was pain in her stomach, but not from the fierce kick given by young Val. "But I'll take this as a sign from the Force or whatever. I'll find him soon."

She knelt down in front of them, her head bowed in penance. "I'm sorry it's taking so long. I haven't given up, I promise. I will never give up. I will bring him home to you."

The Bridgers stared ahead, their smiles never ceasing in their encouragement. Sabine stood up, wiping away the tears trailing down her face.

Next time, she thought. I will not come here alone.

He'll be here with me.

[varpusvaras]

It's getting late.

Seventeen stares at the screen. He's not exactly sure what they are watching anymore. They had sat down to watch the newest episode of Call the Pilot, which Seventeen still can't believe he's watching voluntarily. Most of the characters are more or less annoying, but the old Twi'lek doctor is at least funny enough for him to enjoy the rest of it as well.

The episode has ended a long time ago. Seventeen thinks what's on now is a documentary about- something. Doesn't really matter. He's not concentrating to any of it. It's just colors on the screen and words he cannot understand. Still, he sits there and stares at it, not able to make himself move or even pick up anything else to do- he does that a lot now, doesn't he? Does something with his hands. He's incapable of staying still these days. Before, he could focus on one point for hours, but now he thinks he would get bored after just a few minutes.

He's losing his touch. It's infuriating.

He's not doing anything now, though. Not that he's focusing on anything either.

A mass of something moves in front of the screen. Seventeen blinks.

Arell is staring at him, unimpressed, his dark eyes unmoving. Seventeen stares right back.

A short silence stretches between them, before Seventeen remembers that he can, in fact, move.

"What?" He asks, scowling.

Something relaxes ever so slightly in Arell's expression. It's barely noticeable.

"You need to take your medication soon", he says. "I read the instructions. They said that you can't take them to empty stomach."

"So?" Seventeen glares at him. "I'm not taking them to empty stomach."

"You are not, since I made food", Arell says. "It's in the kitchen."

It strikes him as odd, for a brief moment. Arell doesn't enjoy cooking. He barely tolerates standing in the kitchen in order to put the water to boil to make the tea he likes.

Then Seventeen decides it's not worth thinking about. Arell can do whatever the hell he wants. It's not any of Seventeen's business.

He gets up. His legs still work.

Arell follows him into the kitchen. They don't speak to each other while they pick up their plates and sit down at the table, and Arell turns the volume higher on the documentary. It's about desert ecosystems in the Galaxy.

Seventeen eats his soup while listening to the narrator talking about moisture cycles and their importance to the local fauna. When he gets up to take his medication, there's a full glass of water next to them.

Seventeen takes it and takes his medication. He puts the water to boil before he walks out of the kitchen.

[the-starry-seas]

hang on I need to infodump about Cavalry and Seku - he's in his late twenties and looks about sixty, and she's in her late fifties!

Cavalry is part of the informally-named Ghost Squad, which is made up of POW and MIA clones who were abandoned by the GAR, then later found by other clones and brought to a sanctuary planet that's run by clones, for clones.

Before he gets there, however-

There's not many job options for a clone, and he broke his left leg twice, so a physical labour job is wearing him down. He's alone and missing his brothers, but the GAR never answered his emergency beacon. So what exactly does he have going for him?

Well, the cheapest fast food place in town has a very polite waitress. Half the reason he goes there is because of the cheap food. The other half of the reason is because she's the only person who's habitually nice to him.

Eventually, though, he loses his job, and that means he stops coming to the restaurant. And she goes looking for him! He was always nice to her, too - couldn't afford to tip but left her origami lilies - and she wants to know if he's all right.

When she finds out that he doesn't have a job any more, she tells him to keep coming by the fast food place, and she'd keep feeding him. Eventually, though, this gets her in trouble with the owner, who isn't all that happy about her giving food away. It's not ~generating revenue~

So Seku quits, and they pool what little money they have to get passage to the next planet in the system. A world where they can live under the radar and be together. A world that has a balance of nature and commercial buildings, instead of just being a factory world.

They get married at the spaceport they land at. They're not in nice clothes. Their witness is a random guy waiting for a connecting flight. They don't have a reception. And they're so very, very happy.

Once they get new jobs, and their financial state improves, Cavalry starts looking for rings. They got married without, and Seku says she's fine with that, but Cavalry wants to give her everything they couldn't afford when they got married. Because she deserves that. She deserves to be a queen.

By the time a festival rolls around, celebrating a Twi'lek goddess, it's the middle of spring and Cavalry's saved up a few hundred credits. It takes very little convincing to get Seku to go with him. He takes her to an area where craftsmen have set up their stalls, and tells her to pick out any ring she wants. He slides it on her finger and kisses it with all the reverence she deserves.

(They're disgustingly adorable about the whole thing, as they should be. It's good for them <3)

And since the goddess celebrated by the festival is one of life and relationships, they're able to have a Twi'lek marriage ceremony. The one that Seku always wanted, with a fluffy pink dress and matching headgear embroidered with lilies. She's very delighted by it, and that means that Cavalry is delighted too. (And his suit vest matches her dress.)

Next year, the other clones find them, and bring them home to their home. Their Sanctuary. He brings her breakfast in bed. She surprises him with picnic lunches. They settle into a new life and Cavalry finds ways to heal from the war and his abandonment. Seku gets to wear her wedding dress for their anniversaries, and Cavalry always kisses her ring like the day he bought it for her.

There's times where Seku gets jeered at by some dipshit outsider. People who think there's only one reason a Twi'lek, who used to be an exotic dancer, would live with so many clones. Cavalry much enjoys reducing them to dust for their crimes. He does that thing where he says that's my wife! and knocks them out with one punch.

But apart from the occasional dipshit outsider, their life is very good!

Especially when the kids show up.

One of Cavalry's brothers, Boom, finds a pair of distraught Twi'lek kids and brings them back to Sanctuary. The kids don't speak Basic, but Seku speaks Twi'leki, so he's hoping that she can help find the kids' parents. Unfortunately, as it turns out, the parents died and the next closest relative couldn't afford to take care of them. They were put in foster care, but ended up running away due to the language barrier.

Cavalry's already adopted them emotionally by the time he finishes hearing their story. Seku is not far behind. And that's how they become parents to twelve-year-old Lyn and her little brother, nine-year-old Nawara! They're inseperable and drive each other nuts. Lyn is an adventurous outdoorswoman, and Nawara is a mama's boy who turns out to be a tech whiz.

They're all very happy with each other. And when Nawara later adopts his own two kids... well, it turns out that there's always room in their hearts for more family. Cavalry and Seku make exemplary grandparents.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Leave Him Alone

“I'm sorry.” Zev sighs, plopping some snacks into her mouth from the container she had secured from the first food stall they had encountered.

This was meant to be a quick trip into the village to pick up some supplies and then just head back to the cabin where Mose is waiting with Junior (Neither of them do well in the cold.) and Grogu, but things just got more complicated.

“It's fine.” Din sighs as well. He had known bringing Leave-it along, not just her and Corin, would mean there would be a lot of talking, he just hadn't anticipated the blond making it his personal mission to speak to just about every soul in the village.

“He's just...” Zev gestures vaguely towards where Leave-it and Corin are in deep conversation with some stranger. “Weird. Always have to talk to strangers. He got invited to some baby's naming ceremony last week after speaking to the parents for about ten minutes. I honestly can't take him anywhere.” She rummages around in the container for more treats. Din battles against a smile. They are such complete opposites, her and Leave-it, but somehow it works. Judging by how much she's been eating these last two days, things appear to have worked really well between them. She hasn't said anything about anything, but Din is still willing to bet credits on there being some good news real soon. “Seriously, it's fine.”

Which it is. A bit time consuming, but fine. The trouble emerges when Leave-it and Corin come trotting back over, all excited, to tell them they had just been invited to join in on some big sporting event that takes place on a frozen lake.

Zev'sonya scowls and chews. Din is about to veto the entire thing until he sees the excitement in Corin's eyes and the gorgeous smile that reveals just how much he wants to go to this thing. Great. How is he supposed to say no to that?

He can't.

Which is why Din Djarin finds himself standing next to a frozen lake with a very annoyed twi'lek by his side, while the love of his life and his obnoxiously cheerful friend are attaching skates to their feet to join the people already warming up on the ice.

“Push-over.” Zev'sonya mutters.

“I didn't hear you tell your boyfriend no.” Din mutters back, skilfully ignoring Zev’sonya’s scowl.

Down on the frozen lake, Leave-it shows he's not a lost cause on skates, unlike Din. He's clearly not completely comfortable at first, a little awkward as he moves but improving by the second, and soon he's skating around with a confidence and skill Din has yet to achieve even after an embarrassing amount of tutoring.

Corin, on the other hand, is moving with such talent and grace that Din can't help but to wonder if he'd come rushing out of his poor mother on skates. He’s outshining everyone on the ice and he’s not even trying to impress anyone. If anything, Corin looks relaxed and is just having fun hanging around with Leave-it.

The game is silly and pointless. Six souls on each team, each person with a sturdy stick in their hands, trying to smack a small, black rock across a line about a meter long on either side of the lake.

If not for the bright grin on Corin's face as he skates next to Leave-it, Din would have found this a complete waste of time. That smile makes it worth it, though. That smile is perfection.

Once the game starts and the battle for the rock commences, it doesn't take long before the opposing team realizes what Din had already concluded; Corin is the biggest threat to their victory.

While there follows plenty of bickering over the rock, shoulders knocking against shoulders and the volume of voices rising along with their tempers, Din isn't too worried at first. In the fighting pit at the Covert, tempers always flared during their games as well. Then everything changes.

Corin is racing up the ice, tapping the rock along with his stick, when one man comes rushing in from the left. This one ignores going after the rock entirely and instead, with the determination of a hammerhead corvette, he body-slams into Corin with all of his might.

Din’s entire body jolts as Corin goes flying through the air, slams back down onto the ice and slides a good distance before coming to a halt. Pushing himself up on his arms, Corin shakes his head, as if to shake off the shock and dizziness, while Leave-it rushes to his side to check on him along with a couple of others from their team.

Din takes a step forward, about to call Corin off the ice, but it's too late as the crazy man is already up on his skates again and is sliding over to rejoin the game. He appears unharmed by the attack, though Din doesn't trust that for one second and scans Corin as he moves for any signs of discomfort. He knows only too well that Corin will ignore broken bones rather than inconvenience anyone, thinking a silly game being far more important than his own well-being. If Corin's shoulder droops, like when he broke his collarbone, or if he tries to keep his weight off a leg to ease hidden pain, or anything like that, Din will march over and physically drag Corin off the ice.

It’s not long before there is a new attempt at knocking Corin over. The same guy rushes twoards Corin with every intention of body slamming him into next week and it happens so fast that Din can't do anything to stop it.

Luckily, Corin must have anticipated this and he’s ready for it. When the guy charges at him, Corin turns, twists his body out of the way, and watches as his attacker flies by and nearly ends up face-first into the massive snowbank that circles the lake. Unfortunately, Din doesn't get to feel relief because he sees a second guy rushing at Corin's back with the intent of knocking him over while he’s distracted, but Corin once again merely turns and lets the idiot fly by him, even gives him a little wave. Now Din smirks and actually relaxes. A little. Corin's got this.

Despite several more attempts, no one comes close to even touching Corin. He side-steps, twists and slides out of their path with hardly any effort and mouth-watering elegance. If anything, he seems amused.

Din does the mistake of relaxing. Which is of course when bad luck strikes.

Once the players realize they can’t break any of Corin’s bones, they unleash their anger on the easier target: Leave-it, the other outsider. He’s nowhere near as fast or smooth on the skates and so he has no chance to dodge the guy now rushing at him.

Din flinches at the impact. It’s not as harsh as when that first guy hit Corin, but it is plenty hard enough to knock Leave-it over and for him to hit the ice with a yelp. Din looks over at Zev’sonya, who watches with a frown until Leave-it is back up on his skates and grinning at the fussing Corin before turning her attention back to her snacks. It appears that she’s a lot less worried than Din.

Minutes later, they knock the blond over again. Corin quickly skates over and helps Leave-it back up. Minutes after that, the opposing team knock him over a third time.

Kneeling next to Leave-it, who is gesturing that he’s fine, Corin slowly turns his gaze towards where the opposing team are huddling together with smugness radiating off them.

Corin is too far away for Din to see his eyes clearly, but he does see how Corin lowers his chin and how his shoulders tense up as his muscles tighten and bulge.

“Uh oh.” Din mumbles.

“What?” Zev’sonya asks.

“They just made Corin angry.”

Zev’sonya squints with the effort of trying to see what Corin’s face looks like. “I didn’t think he could get angry over a game.”

“Trust me.” Din says. “They could go after him and knock him down all day and he wouldn’t be bothered, but once they go after someone he cares about… I almost feel sorry for them.”

“I don’t.” Zev’sonya says, indeed without an ounce of sympathy in her voice. “I hope Corin breaks their legs.” She slowly cracks something between her teeth that sounds scarily like bones breaking.

Ah. A slight smile tugs at Din’s lips. Not less worried than Din after all, just better at hiding it.

The game starts up again, but this time Corin is the one ignoring the black rock and makes no attempts at scoring points. Instead he skates nearby Leave-it in what others might think is a purely whimsical way until one guy does the mistake of rushing at the blond with every intent of knocking him down.

Corin turns, faster than anyone should be able to on skates, speeds up, hunches forward and slams his shoulder into the guy so hard that both Din and Zev’sonya flinch. The impact is so violent it stops the man as if he’d run straight into a wall, his feet fly high while his upper body go down like a lead weight. The landing is so brutal his ancestors probably feel it too.

Zev’sonya lets out a low cackle of mean satisfaction when the guy has to be helped back up on his feet. Din, on the other hand, keeps his gaze on Corin, who nonchalantly skates around like nothing happened without straying too far from Leave-it or taking his eyes off the opposite team. Oh, he is seriously pissed off. Those guys have no idea what they’ve unleashed. Dank farrik, Corin is hot when he’s angry like this. Watching him destroy that guy without mercy, he’s gorgeous. Most people who have met Corin once upon a time would describe him as amiable to the point of being an easy push-over, but he’s showing a very different side to himself at the moment. One that Din loves. Right now, Corin looks ready to knock your teeth out if you challenge him.

The next man trying to knock Leave-it down fails to see Corin’s approach, but he certainly feels it when Corin grabs a hold of his shoulders and spins around to fling him face first into the snowbank on the left. Idiot number three who charges at Leave-it eats the ice hard when Corin comes up behind him and swings the stick with all of his might at his ankles. It takes a little while before someone tries to knock Leave-it down again after that, but once he scores two points for his team the tempers flare and one moron can’t help himself and rushes towards the blond.

“Mistake.” Zev’sonya observes,

“Big mistake.” Din agrees, while hoping she doesn’t pick up on the rasp in his voice due to how his throat is snaring up with the urge to admire out loud how hot Corin is right now.

“Down, boy.” Zev’sonya mumbles with a slight grin.

She heard. Dammit. Din clears his throat a little awkwardly, but still savours the ruthless way Corin slams into a guy with all of his considerable strength and no fear. Magnificent. Mandokarla. So karking Mandokarla. This is what he knows is hiding behind Corin’s peaceful front and Din love it when idiots are corrected for mistaking his kar’ta’s kindness for weakness. Just because Corin prefers not to beat the shit out of people, it doesn’t mean he’s not able to if he feels like it.

It almost makes Din a little sad when there are no more attempts to challenge Corin’s defence of his friend. Leave-it gets to skate around freely, oblivious to the ominous presence of his self proclaimed bodyguard hovering nearby, ready to interfere with anyone going after him.

Not trusting things to not go wrong, Din lets out a sigh of relief when the game is finally over. Corin and Leave-it’s team win 16-2. After a quick celebration with their team-mates, the two make their way over to Din and Zev’sonya, who choose to wait at a safe distance from clingy strangers.

“We won!” Leave-it declares with a laugh, one arm around Corin and the other punching the air.

“Congratulations.” Din says, eyes dwelling on Corin and loving how happy he looks.

“We saw.” Zev’sonya drawls.

“Don’t you wanna kiss the most important player on the ice?” Leave-it counters, leaning towards Zev’sonya with a suggestive grin and waggling eyebrows. “I mean, I must have scored ten or eleven of those points.”

“Yeah.” Zev’sonya says, raising an eyebrow to underline her sardonic look. “Because Corin beat up anyone who got in your way.”

“What?” Leave-it huffs. “No!” He looks over at Din. “Tell her that’s not true.”

Corin sends Din a tense look that begs for him to lie so Leave-it can go on smiling like he is.

Din purses his lips for a brief moment, considering his options, before replying. “I think you scored twelve of them, actually. That’s what I counted, anyway.”

“See?!” Leave-it exclaims with delight, only to have Zev’sonya roll her eyes and walk away which of course makes him hurry after her. “Zev, baby, twelve points. That’s awesome. I’m awesome! We should celebrate. Lucky you to be married to a genius. I’m kinda jealous. Zev. Hey, Zev. Wait up!”

Din smirks. Not a lie, no revealing of Corin’s actions, the perfect distraction for the guy famous for his lack of attention span. Raga would have been proud.

Corin inches over to stand next to Din as they watch the two walk away, speaking in a quiet voice: “Thank you.”

Din grunts, then turns to face him.

Offering a nervous smile, Corin shrugs. “I got a little carried away, I know. I’m sorry. I just… There was no reason to go after him like that. They were just doing it because they couldn’t get me; hurting him because they couldn’t hurt me, and I… got angry.”

“Furious.” Din corrects him a little absently.

Corin nods and lowers his gaze, appearing outwardly submissive, yet there is an unmistakable undertone of quiet, hard defiance in his voice as he speaks. “It was just game, I know, okay? I acted like an idiot, I realize that, but they were hurting him and I-”

“You.” Din reaches up and cups his gorgeous face between his hands to make him look up again. Din loses himself in those mesmerizing eyes as if the barrier of the HUD does not exist. “Were magnificent out there. Strong. Gorgeous. I could have watched you for days.”

Corin’s eyes flash with surprise and his lips part a little in a way that makes heat lick up Din’s spine. Yeah, his kar’ta still has no clue in regards to the effect he has on him and Din is starting to think he might never get it. Though, that might not be a bad thing, considering how enticing Corin looks all flustered when Din has to spell it out for him. “Din…”

Breathing a soft laugh, Din decides not to tease him today. He draws a final and lingering caress along Corin’s jawline before letting go and ordering the heat to leave his blood. “You protected your brother. As a Mandalorian should. You did good, okay?”

Corin smiles as the anxiousness leaves his body, but his gaze never leaves Din. Actually, there is something in his mesmerizing eyes that keeps a stubborn ember of fire alive in Din’s veins. “Does that mean I get a reward?”

Din struggles to swallow. Behave. He might mean something platonic. “Sure. What do you want?”

Corin’s smile widens a tiny fraction. There is nothing platonic about what’s on his mind, for sure. “I’ll tell you later.” He abruptly turns to follow the others. “Let’s get back to the ship before Zev’sonya decides to leave us behind and makes us walk back to the cabin.”

Din takes a deep, deep breath, before he follows with a faint laugh. Ice skating with sticks is officially his new favourite sport. It is definitely not a waste of time after all.

Maybe there is some way to get Corin a semi-regular spot on the local team?