#{ STAR WARS V. ONE } i walked through the half dim light of the setting sun

[omgreally]

The Apprentice Read on AO3 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: E for Explicit, Soon Wordcount: 9k+ Summary: Peli Motto took you off the streets of Tatooine to become one of the best apprentices she’s ever had - but honestly, the DUM droids are setting the bar pretty low. Still, you work out well for the first few months until an armored Mandalorian stranger lands with a busted-up ship and a strange magic baby and, well, you’re intrigued. Even though you know you shouldn’t be. Peli’s always teling you to keep away from anything hot but sometimes, to fix something, you have to stick your hand straight into the fire.

Chapter Three - Second Thoughts

You sit on the ground across from the blazing fire as the Treadwell droids fries the gorgs on the flame generated by the old podracing engine. The suns have long since slipped below the horizon, and the night sky is filled with stars like a dark blanket poked with holes and thrown over a lamp. 

“You ever been offworld, Peli?” You wonder as you gaze upwards. You don’t think about it much, what’s up there - you’ve only ever been concerned with what’s down here and the more immediate need for survival. But the more time you spend on ships that soar back and forth between the stars, the more you wonder what it’s like.

“Space travel?” Peli snorts, ripping off a hunk of jerky for herself and handing a smaller piece to Grogu in her lap. “It’s a waste of time, kiddo. Keeps me in business, though, so I don’t complain. But the hotshots out there, zoomin’ around between planets, never feelin’ the dirt beneath their feet - they complain plenty. Makes me wonder why they do it.”

“What about him?” You nod towards the dark, silent Razor Crest. Mando hasn’t joined you yet. You’re beginning to doubt that he will.

“Who knows? Only thing he seems to care about is this little guy.” She jiggles Grogu on her knee.

“It’s...his child?” you ask slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Nah. Don’t think so, anyway. But he’s a part of his clan, so he’ll protect him, see? That’s how Mandalorians are.” She cocks her head. “I think. All I know is I’ve seen him kill without hesitation to protect this little one, and he’ll do anythin’ for him. Anythin’.” Peli emphasizes this with a pointed forefinger, one that Grogu grabs and starts to chew on. “Ow! Hungry little womprat, aren’tcha? Here, have some more o’ this.”

“That almost sounds...noble,” you muse aloud. Peli, only half-listening, chuckles.

“You try tellin’ him that. Hey, where are you goin’?”

“I told him I’d bring him some dinner,” you say as you get to your feet and fill a plate with meat, fruit and jerky.

“You like him, don’t you?”

You stop, half-turning to her in the flickering firelight. You expect to see a smirk, or a grimace, but Peli’s expression is just...curious. Grogu is looking at you too, and you wonder how much the little creature understands.

“He’s...interesting,” you say. “And attractive.” Why lie? Peli’s always been able to see straight through you.

The woman sighs, leaning back. “Just...be careful, Girl, won’t you? Believe it or not, I’ve gotten used to havin’ you around. And you’re a damn sight more useful than the droids.”

You shift from foot to foot. “What are you trying to say, ma’am?”

“I’m just sayin’...It’s like he’s got his own gravitational pull. Try not to fall into his orbit.” She strokes the ears of the child in her lap and presses her lips together into an expression of resignation when she meets your eyes. 

She already knows. And she can see it in you.

Her smile is wry, and a little sad when she adds, "You’ll end up burnin’ up.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, so you say nothing. You walk away, deep in thought, your steps taking you slowly, inexorably towards the ship. Maybe there’s something to what Peli’s saying. It’s like you just can’t help yourself.

It’s like you don’t even want to.

The side ramp is still down, and you wonder briefly if the actuator has broken again - you’ll have to check tomorrow. The sound of your boots on the gangway seem unnaturally loud, but you knock on the frame of the hatch anyway to announce your presence, peering into the dim interior.

“Mando?”

No answer. You make your way further into the hold, but catch no sight of him. “Mando?” you call again. 

This was a stupid idea, you decide. You’ll just leave the plate somewhere and go. You're in the middle of looking for an appropriate flat surface where he’ll find it when his voice drifts down from the cockpit - “Up here.”

There’s still time to just leave the food and go, you think. But of course, you don’t. You move further into the belly of the beast. Balancing the plate in one hand, you haul yourself up the ladder with the other. Somehow, you manage to get up to the cockpit without flinging food everywhere.

The bridge of the ship is even darker than before, the standby lights filling the space with an eerie, blinking glow. It makes the Mandalorian blend into the durasteel background, so that when he gets up from the pilot’s seat, you jump, nearly tripping backwards - but he’s on his feet and has caught the plate in one hand and your elbow in the other before you even register the movement.

“Sorry,” you mutter, staring into the visor. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, letting you go - you feel the absence of his touch more keenly than you might have if you'd gotten more time in the sanisteam earlier. You watch him as he perches on the edge of a control panel to examine the contents of his plate, gloved fingers picking through the jerky and crisped pieces of meat.

“It’s not much, but we were a little strapped for credits when I went to the market this morning,” you explain. “I’ll go out and get more tomorrow-”

“It’s fine. Thank you.” Still, he sets the plate aside, and you frown. If it’s fine, why isn’t he eating- Oh.

You turn, your face burning. “Sorry, I forgot. I’ll leave you to eat.” You step towards the hatch, and the ladder that leads to safety.

“Wait.”

The single word stops you in your tracks, and you stand there, frozen. You can’t hear him move, but you know that he’s behind you - you can feel the heat from his body and the coolness of the Beskar both warring for space at your back. You don’t turn around.

“Are you afraid of me?”

That’s definitely not what you expected him to ask. If you expected anything. You do turn now, slowly, coming face-to-face with his breastplate mere inches from your nose, and you have to tilt your chin up to look up at his visor. At the edge of the helmet, you can see the fabric of his cowl disappearing upward, and you wonder what color his hair is under there - if he has hair. It’s so hard to think of him as human, looking at the silver outer shell, and that more than anything else is terrifying. And exciting.

“Yes,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. 

He reaches out and touches a tendril of your hair, still damp from the sanisteam. He brushes it gently, ever-so-gently, over your cheek and tucks it back behind your ear. His knuckles linger by your temple. You’ve long since stopped breathing.

“Good,” he says then. “Fear keeps you smart. Keeps you from doing something stupid.”

It’s like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking, every moment you’ve been alone together. You swallow heavily around the sudden lump in your throat, resisting the urge to grab onto something - maybe him - to keep yourself upright, centered. 

“Like what?”  you rasp instead, trying to moisten your lips with the tip of your tongue, but your mouth is too dry for that. The helmet tracks the movement.

“I don’t want to give you any ideas.”

“I already have a few,” you say, breathing in a chuckle. You feel detached, as if this conversation isn’t really happening. Not in your reality.

“How old are you?”

That question stops you for a moment, and you have to think. “Oh...Galactic calendar? Twenty, at least...twenty-something, maybe. I lost track for a few years.”

“Twenty.” You hear him breathe in through the modulator, and he reaches out, a gloved finger tracking the visible indent of your collarbone from the open V of your coveralls. “You’re smart, for someone so young.”

You’re pretty sure wanting to fuck a Mandalorian isn’t that smart, but you don’t voice that thought. Not yet, anyway. 

“I’ve had to be,” you tell him, voice low, like you’re confessing a secret. “Out here, you don’t survive if you’re not smart.”

Mando nods slowly, seeming almost - understanding? Sympathetic? Maybe you’re imagining it. It’s too easy to ascribe emotions to the blankness of the Beskar. He could be making faces at you from behind that mask for all you know. He could just be toying with you to pass the time.

But something tells you that he’s not. And that scares you the most of all.

“I should go,” you say softly, and there’s a small moment of hesitation - just a second or two, but enough that you notice it - before he nods again.

You step back from him, towards the hatch, your eyes on the visor until the very last moment you turn around to swing yourself onto the ladder. You’re halfway down before his voice drifts to you.

“Goodnight, Girl.”

“Night, Mando,” you murmur, smiling to yourself as you climb down the rest of the way. 

There’s a spring in your step as you leave the Razor Crest behind, one that Peli doesn’t miss as you pass her on the way to your room.

“Remember what I told you, Girl!” she calls after you. You wave a dismissive, slightly rude offworlder gesture in her direction, but not too obviously.

“Goodnight, Peli!”

“See you’re up with the suns tomorrow! We got a lot of work to do!” she yells, but you’re already gone, shutting the door behind you as you head inside.

You debate going for another shower, but Peli will tell you off for using all the water, so you go to bed instead. You say ‘bed’ - really it’s just a cot shoved into a corner in one of the storage rooms, housed between crates of spare parts. You don’t mind it. The smell of metal and lubricant has long since ceased being an unpleasant one, and it’s of particular comfort tonight

You try to sleep imagining it’s Beskar surrounding you, smooth and cool beneath your fingers. You picture a pair of gloved hands on your shoulders, your arms, your belly, and your skin warms to your own touch. Your hands aren’t as wide, your fingers not as long, but in the absence of any others, they do the job.

You come gasping into the gloom, picturing the inscrutable darkness of a T-shaped visor boring into you.  And then you sleep, only half-sated, somehow more restless than ever.

You get the feeling things are only going to get worse before they get better.

Taglist: @annon123456789987654321, @babe-im-bi, @casssiopeia, @herefortheart, @shannaniganss, @sofithewitch​

Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the taglist! 

#the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin/reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x you #the apprentice

[alecsimon]

ELLE !!!!! CONGRATS !!!! also malec + birthdays :))

RIYA!!! so it’s funny how i completed this for your birthday and the ask includes birthdays i mean iconic am i right? anyway happy birthday sweetheart!!! i love you to the moon and back and talking to you always brightens my day. i love when you tag me in your gifsets and i hold our friendship v dear to me especially when we expose our #darkpasts 👀 you’re beautiful and kind and i hope your day is absolutely amazing!! ❤️😚

READ ON AO3 

(huge thanks to the best beta a girl could ask for @lightwoodlesbians 💕)

Magnus sips on his morning tea, checking over the guest list to Rafael’s party one last time. Rafael’s turning 11, and it’s his first birthday with them, spending it together as a family. Though Rafael has been here under a year, he’s still as much of a son to Magnus and Alec as little Max is. So Magnus wants Rafael’s first birthday with them to be special and to serve as a reminder that he has people who want to celebrate with him.

“I hope Helen and Aline are able to make it. Helen says Aline is still sick with a nasty flu.”

Looking up, Magnus watches his very shirtless husband flip a pancake expertly, and Magnus grins, twirling the pen between his fingers.

“Me too. Although even without them we have almost 25 people who said they’re going to come,” Magnus replies, making a mental note to call the caterer to make sure the food comes on time.

“It’s gonna be a big crowd,” Alec says, putting the pancakes onto four plates and passing one to Magnus with an easy wink and a smile.

“And why are you so happy this morning, hm?” Magnus asks, getting off of his chair and taking a step towards Alec, who won’t stop smiling. It’s very difficult for Magnus not to mirror his happiness.

“I have two amazing kids and a beautiful husband - what’s there not to be happy about?” Alec asks, picking up the ends of the sash of the robe Magnus is wearing and tugging him flush against his body, kissing him deeply.

Magnus kisses him back instantly, wrapping his arms around Alec’s torso as Alec lifts a hand to cup Magnus’ face.

“Dad?”

Magnus pulls back from the kiss and turns his head, seeing a little seven year old in Star Wars pajamas clutching an oversized teddy bear and rubbing his right eye with a small fist.

“Good morning, Max,” Alec says from beside him, kissing Magnus’ cheek before pulling away completely and walking over to Max. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Max replies, smiling up at his dad. His blue skin is mesmerizing under the morning sun streaming through the windows. “I had a dream that me, you, Papa, and Rafael were on a pirate ship.”

“That’s one heck of a dream,” Alec says, ruffling Max’s hair.

Rafael appears a moment later in the hall, clad in his monotone pajamas.

“There he is,” Magnus says, walking over to Rafael and crouching down to pull him into a hug. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Papa,” Rafael says, laughing when Magnus starts peppering his face with kisses.

“Happy birthday, Rafa,” Alec says, which Max repeats almost instantly.

“Dad made pancakes in your honor,” Magnus says, brushing Rafael’s hair out of his face.

“Chocolate chip?” Rafael asks, his eyes lighting up.

“Of course,” Magnus replies with a wink.

Alec and Magnus finish up making breakfast while the kids talk about yesterday’s museum trip at the dinner table. Mornings like this are what Magnus adores, and will hold close to his heart forever. Everything feels soft and rich with love, and Magnus doesn’t really know how he got here, surrounded by his own little family, but every day he’s thankful.

“Simon, Izzy, and Jace are gonna come a little earlier to set up for the party.” Alec says as he sits down at the round table.

“Catarina can’t stay for long but she promised to stop by,” Magnus pours some maple syrup on his pancakes and passes it to Max, who’s making grabby hands at him.

“She always gives the most thoughtful gifts. Oh, also, the cake I bought is your favorite, Rafa,” Alec says, turning to Rafael with a smile.

Next to him, however, Rafa is pushing his food around his plate, chewing on his lower lip. Magnus and Alec share a worried look before Alec puts his hand on Rafael’s shoulder and Rafael looks up.

“You ok, bud?” Alec asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rafael replies. He looks down at his plate again before picking up his fork and pointing it at Alec. “That cake better be chocolate on top of chocolate.”

“You know it is,” Alec says with a wink.

The day goes by beautifully. The four of them finish breakfast and all give Rafael their gifts, and the way Rafael’s eyes light up when he unwraps the guitar tells Magnus that they purchased the right gift. The guests start filtering in around lunchtime, and by then the entire loft has been decorated in a pirate theme.

A pirate flag is hung over one of the walls and the bar has been made to look like a pirate ship’s front deck. Maia stands at the bar, chatting to Meliorn and Luke. On the other side of the room, Max is performing for Izzy and Clary, showing them the new magic he learned, and Alec is talking to Simon. Other people are littered throughout the apartment, but Magnus notices, as he does a twirl, that he can’t find the guest of honor.

“You look lost,” says a familiar voice, and Magnus turns to face his husband, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Have you seen Rafael?” Magnus asks. Alec looks puzzled for a moment, then shakes his head.

“Actually, no. Not in the past half hour at least.” Alec nudges his head towards the direction of Rafael’s room and they both walk to it. Magnus knocks once before walking inside, finding Rafael sitting on the floor reading a book.

“Rafa,” Magnus calls, stepping into the room. Rafael looks up guiltily, closing the book and setting it down next to him. “Why aren’t you at your party, darling?”

“I don’t know,” Rafael replies, twiddling his thumbs together. Behind Alec, an overly excited Max comes running in, holding a present.

“Uncle Jace brought you a gift!” he cheers, holding out the bright red box to Rafael. “Wait, why do you look so sad?”

“I’m not sad,” Rafael says quickly in response to Max’s youthful bluntness.

As Max puts the gift next to Rafael, Magnus and Alec make their way over to the kids. Alec crouches in front of Rafael and takes his hands.

“You wanna tell us what’s really going on?” Alec says softly, tilting his head to the side when Rafael looks down.

“I just -” Rafael starts, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s too many people. I thought we could spend the day with just the four of us. But you and Papa seemed so happy to have everyone come over.”

“Oh, honey,” Magnus says, crouching down next to Alec and cupping Rafael’s face. “You’re allowed to tell us what you want - you know that, right? You dad and I, we just want you to see how many people want to celebrate your birthday with you. But it’s also your birthday, and if you wanted something else you could have just said so, sweetheart.”

“I know. I just didn’t want to ruin the fun,” Rafael says, still looking sad.

“You could never ruin the fun,” Alec replies instantly. “It’s your special day. And all three of us - we love you very much.”

Rafael actually cracks a smile at that, and Max leans on him. Magnus barely holds back the need to coo at the brotherly affection.

“Stay here,” Magnus says to Alec, kissing his cheek and the top of both of his son’s heads. “Papa will be right back.”

The next fifteen minutes are spent doing damage control. One by one Magnus apologizes to his guests and tells them that the party is over, and while people are sad to leave, they’re all close friends and family and are extremely understanding. The gifts are left on the coffee table, and they have plenty of food left, but the loft is left in a mostly mess-free state.

He makes his way back to Rafael’s room and slowly opens the door. Alec, Max, and Rafael are putting together a Lego set that Rafael got for Christmas when Magnus clears his throat.

“Come on, let’s go back out,” Magnus says, and he can instantly see Rafael’s face drop at the prospect of having to socialize with a few dozen people.

With a little encouragement from Alec, all of them make their way out of Rafael’s room and into the loft towards the kitchen.

“Where did everybody go?” Rafael asks, climbing on one of the island chairs. Alec seats Max on the other one.

“They all went home. You said you wanted just the four of us - our family together for your birthday. So, here we are,” Magnus says, smiling as he walks over to the fridge.

“Next time, talk to us, Rafa, okay?” Alec says, leaning over the island to ruffle Rafael’s hair, to which Rafael laughs playfully and saying a soft ‘okay, dad’.

Magnus pulls out a chocolate cake from the fridge and sets in on the island, snapping his fingers and lighting a candle.

All three of them start singing happy birthday softly, Magnus using his magic to dim the rest of the lights in the loft a little so the candle illuminates the room. He can see now, the joy on Rafael’s face at just the four of them being there. Rafael has been denied a loving family for too long, and when he was adopted Magnus and Alec both swore to do everything in their power to make sure Rafael knew he was wanted and had a home. Had a family.

“You have to make a wish now, darling,” Magnus says softly once the song is over. Max is giddy next to Rafa, his eyes on the chocolate cake, and Rafael just smiles, shaking his head.

“I don’t need to. Everything I would want is right here,” Rafael says, looking at his brother and fathers.

Magnus swears he hears Alec’s breath hitch, and he feels his own heart melt at Rafael’s words.

Closing his eyes, Rafael blows out the candle, a huge grin on his face and a light in his eyes as Max claps from beside him.

“Oh, Rafael! Papa got fake swords. We can play pirate and guards,” Max says, wobbling his way down from the island chair.

“Cool!” Rafael responds as they both run towards the wooden box of styrofoam swords.

Magnus sets the kettle as two strong arms wrap around his waist from behind. Magnus smiles, turning in Alec’s arms and placing his hands on his chest. From the other room, Magnus can hear Rafael and Max playing and shouting:

“I’m gonna catch you!”

“You’ll never take me alive!”

Alec laughs softly, kissing Magnus softly and resting their foreheads together. “Should we go and join them?” Alec asks.

“Yea,” Magnus says, closing his eyes and just revelling in the moment. “But only if I get to be a pirate.”

Alec grins. “Deal.”

#malec #shadowhunters #willjtudor #magswoods #fluffyjimon #darthlightwood #lightwoody #hufflebee #saltyalec #blushyalec #moonylady #posibanesquad #ask #elle writes #500 celebration drabbles