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echos-newlegs · 3 years

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Breathe For Me

#17 with Hunter, requested by @chevyharvelle thanks for the ask, and who! Went from 18+ asks down to 11, plus two that I got in some comments. I am hoping to have them all cleared out by the time I reach 501 followers and am able to post my celebratory prompt post! Thank you all for the love and support, plus giving me a hobby to do besides just staring out my window and thinking bout nothing other than fictional men ✌💀

But this may be a bit sloppy since I'm trying to finish the asks in my inbox now, before opening up my 501 follower celebration! Which I thank you all for!

Prompt: “No, look at me, hey, talk to me, don’t you dare close your eyes.”

Warnings: Gunna be angsty, folks.

Words: 1k

Tag List:

@murdertoothpick @andiebell2023 @kaitou2417 @tacticalsparkles @baroclinicinstability @captain-rexs-girlfriend

Let me know if you ever want removed from the tag list! If you want added comment "future tags or pm/send me an ask! Thanks!

The bullets whizzed everywhere. Ricocheting off everything as you and Hinter were mostly surrounded by metal objects. "Hunter, watch out!" You cry out. Firing at an on coming droid. Your chest heaving in worry that the two of you just might not make it out.

He only grunted in response. Giving you a nod of thanks, but you knew he was overwhelmed. You could see it in the way he stood. Body tense. Eyes focusing on each and every little thing through his visor.

Another bullet shot mere inches from his face, just this time it hit you.

A small squeal left your lips at the impact. Your eyes widening as you fell to the ground. Gloved hands holding at your stomach with gasping breaths.

Hunter was in the midst of tackling a droid when he turned his head and saw you. "Tech, get over here, now! Y/n's been hit!" He snapped over the comlink. Racing to your side.

Your tongue felt heavy as he held you behind some crates. Gun still in hand, just in case. Hands racing to remove your helmet. Listening as a sharp gasp left your mouth.

"Hey, hey, mesh'la, look at me." He cooed. Cupping your face. Hand on your stomach. Face turning at the feel of the blood seeping through your hand to his gloves. The way his glove almost slipped against the back of your hand.

Your eyes squeezed shut at a sudden jolt of pain. Ears ringing as you zoned out again.

"Tech, Over here!" Hunter shouted to his brother. You could faintly hear him over the sound of blood rushing through your ears. Eyes peaking open before shutting closed again.

When you opened them again everyone seemed to still be in a panic. You were back on the marauder. Still light headed and woozy. The world even seemed to be spinning before you.

"Hey, hey, No, look at me, hey, talk to me, don't you dare close your eyes." You heard hunter. Though his voice sounded clouded.

You reached out for him. Hunter taking your hand in his while you squeezed it faintly.

"Only a scratch.." you muttered while Tech worked fast at removing your armor.

You knew it was worse than that by the way Hunters sun kissed skin almost looked white. How pale and disturbed he looked.

"Glad she still has some humor." Tech chimed. And Hunter couldn't even respond.

"I'm sorry," Tech spoke again, and you nearly screamed.

He was peeling away your blacks. Tears pricking at your eyes at the feel of the cloth pulling at your sensitive wounds.

"Hunter, please," you cried out. Craning your head back as he hovered close.

"Y/n, hey, look at me. Tell me about-" he paused. "Your day!" Wrecker finished.

"Well, I got fucking shot! Shit Tech that hurts!" You howled. Crosshair having to come and help hold you down.

"Keep her awake! She's lost too much blood." Tech snapped as your eyes began to fall shut again.

"Hey, open your eyes!" But you had blacked out again.

Everyone was panicking. Crosshair was even worried himself. His finger kept on your pulse to be sure your heart was still beating.

"Hunter you need to calm down," Tech eased his brother. His attention on your wounds though. Hands working to patch you up while Echo got you all somewhere where there was medical help.

"How can I when the one person that doesn't look at us like some freak might die." Hunter hissed. Everyone seemed to freeze up at his words. As if just realizing these could be your final moments with them.

"Wrecker, take Hunter to the other room." And after some protest Wrecker had Hunter dragged out into the other room. Away from your body.

It wasn’t long before you were pulled into a medical center. Nurses taking over the handy work that Tech had done to stop the bleeding.

"If it hadn't been for what you did they would have bled out." A nurse told Tech, and Crosshair rolled his eyes.

"You didn't have to boost his ego." He growled, walking off into another part of the room to see how Hunter was holding up.

The moment he caught sight of Crosshair he was jolting up. Hands worrying at the armor on his chest. Staring at his brother with a glint of hope.

"You can't see 'em yet, if that's what you're wondering." He told Hunter. Hunters frown growing a bit.

"I'm sure they'll pull through. They probably know you'd die on the next mission without 'em. Whether it be on purpose or accidental." Crosshair told Hunter. Patting his shoulder lightly. Offering a half ass smile, but from Crosshair that was quite a lot. All of this was quite a lot.

Hunter only nodded. Going back to sitting and waiting. Which he did, for the next six hours while his brothers snoozer around him.

He knew for a fact, though. He'd definitely be getting you proper armor the moment you were out of there. If he even allowed you off the ship after this experience.

When the nurse came to tell him he could go see you he was practically sprinting. Busting the door open without being told which room was yours. He could sense you. He knew you were in the room.

"Hun'ner." You slurred. Smiling weakly with a wave of your fingers. Sore and doped up on medicine.

"Cyare," he purred. Grabbing your hand and practically sliding into the chair next to you. "Are you feeling better?" He couldn't think of anything more to ask.

"No," you spoke, and his frown only deepened.

"Mesh-" you interrupted him with a squeeze of your hand. "Why don't we got any pills like the ones the doc gave me?" You asked with a dopey grin, and he smiled again. Leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

"Your smile helps me, too, y'know. Handsome man." You cooed as you sloppily kissed his nose with a giggle. Hunter rolling his eyes.

"Get some sleep, okay?" You shrugged at that.

"Thought you said not to close my eyes earlier?" He grunted at that. Shaking his head.

"Y/n, I swear," "alright, alright, shut eye it is."

#the bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #sergeant hunter #bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #clone x reader #x reader #star wars x reader

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kaminobiwan · 4 years

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im not sure if you’re taking requests right now but it just needs to be said: luv... luv listen....... can you literally imagine you and rex writing each other these elaborate and beautiful and heart felt love letters to keep each other close to your hearts when you’re away.... because like im truly the softest person in the WORLD for this idea can you bestow upon us your thoughts on this wonderful matter :D

god this has been sitting in my inbox for so long bc I wanted to write a full length for this but for now I’ll just flesh out the idea to maybe come back to later. this was so damn cute anon. your mind. sorry for the wait

✵✵✵ rini’s minis ; rex + love letters

“whatcha got there, cap?”

rex jumps, crumpling the flimsi instinctively in one hand as he shoves his arms behind his back. he clears his throat awkwardly, trying to look normal as fives approaches, echo in tow.

“nothing. files. what d’you need?”

“files? since when did datapads go out of style?” rex swallows, trying to school his features into a stern glare. the sweat from his nervousness does nothing to help, but if they mention it, he’ll blame it on the muggy felucian heat.

“that’s a need-to-know basis, fives.” rex deflects, and even echo’s face twists into an unconvinced look as fives raises his palms to his superior officer. “and you don’t need to know.”

“okay, okay,” fives relents, much faster than normal. “we’re just coming to see how you’re holding up after that bout with the virus,” echo nods in agreement. “seems like you haven’t got any rest since then.”

rex feels the crease in his brow soften. the blue shadow virus had taken a lot out of him, even past his recovery. at times, he still felt weak and frail. to make matters worse, you weren’t there to take care of him.

there was no better remedy than your touch.

your words, however, were a close second, and rex loosens his grip on the flimsi in his palm, almost on instinct. the thought of you does well to calm him, and clear his mind enough to be touched by his younger brothers’ concern.

“I’m fine,” he answers, more gruffly than he intends. the disbelieving glances from the twins don’t cease, and they even exchange another in front of him. lucky for them, rex is too tired to admonish them.

“permission to speak freely, sir?”

rex holds in a groan. “yes, fives.” there’s always a 70% chance he regrets it when fives asks, but he can’t find it within himself to conjure up any more bantha-shit to drive the two insistent young soldiers away.

“you’re a terrible liar.” the blonde jerks his head at the brash statement, but fives just stands and looks at him. echo, too—not that he had more impulse control than his squadmate, rex was quickly realizing, but he was usually much more subtle with his actions than his counterpart. but both of them simply stare expectantly, shifting when they receive no response.

echo is quick to fill the silence, stepping forward hesitantly. “sir, let us help where we can. surely there’s something we can do.”

rex blinks, mind impatient to get back to his original task. anything to get them to leave faster.

“o...kay.”

“really?” the twins chorus in front of him, and rex throws his head back.

“yes, okay? I’ll come find you later, just—give me a second, please.” their eagerness palpably radiates off of them, and it’s enough to quell rex’s restlessness. he dismisses them with a final promise to retrieve them when he’d finished filing, and breathes a small sigh of relief when they bound excitedly away. rex almost feels bad for the surprise they’re in for—administrative duties were probably as entertaining as stacking ordinance.

alone again, he crouches down to conceal himself from any further distractions. finally. he unfurls the letter from his hands, trying in vain to smooth out the wrinkles from holding it in his fist for too long. rex frowns. at least it was still legible, even with the smudges from his sweaty palm. he wipes another droplet of sweat from his face, rereading your words.

I miss you—I hope you’re okay. I know it’s pointless to say, but don’t work too hard. make sure to eat and rest for me.

rex looks up, checking for any incoming interruptions. he can practically hear the tone of your voice, telling him to take care of himself.

I hope it’s quiet when you read this. I know how much you like it. his heart squeezes. he wishes he could tell you that you were right, in person. but like always, your next words read his mind. you’ve perfected the habit of predicting his thoughts. everyone says to get a long distance comlink, but I like having letters. it feels like you’re with me, in an abstract sort of way. I look at your handwriting and I feel like I’m home.

and rex can’t keep the soft smile from spreading, not when you manage to soothe the ache of his homesickness at its worst, even from hundred of parsecs away. his eyes fall to the last paragraph, the final nail in the coffin to seal away his heart to a lifetime devoted to you.

remember, I’m waiting for you. you’d better come back in one piece, otherwise I’ll have no one to practice mando’a with. rex snorts. you’ve been doing well with the language, but your next words are in basic, clear as day, and he feels as though for a moment he’s weightless when he murmurs them below his breath. I love you, rex. I’m yours.

his eyes scan over the lines hungrily, over and over again until they’re burned into his brain. once he’s satisfied for the moment, he folds the letter neatly and tucks it under his chestplate, just above his heart. with the blank scrap of flimsi he’d managed to snag before shipping out, he readies his own response against the plastoid covering his leg.

he doesn’t know how he’ll ever come close to making you feel the same way he does when he reads your letters, but it won’t stop him from trying.

maybe he’ll even throw in a bit about how fives and echo say hello.

#rini’s minis #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #this idea was ADORABLEEEE ANON!!! PLZ FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING SO LONG #WHEN Y’ALL DROP IDEAS LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY #i’ll get better at responding in a timely manner :’-) god this was so damn soft

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sheresh0y · 3 years

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Mar'eyce: Chapter One

Pairing: Din Djarin x Mando OC Kaiyah Awaud Soulmate AU

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Swearing, canon-typical violence, and soulmate bond/scarring, drinking and food mention, medical check up. If I missed anything, don't hesitate to reach out and I will correct the warnings. No beta, we die on this hill.

Author's Note: Hey. It's been a minute. I've decided to redo this chapter because I wasn't happy with it so if you've seen/read chapter one already, no you haven't. Lore dumps and translations at the end. Reblogs, likes, dropping by the inbox to come say hi, all of it is appreciated. Dividers and moodboard by me. Happy reading!

Summary: "That a perfect Mandalorian, someone who had their other half, someone that the manda had flawlessly created, wouldn’t be driven by greed or pettiness."

Read from the beginning: Mareyce Masterlist

“Kaiyah? Kaiyah, come in. Where are you?” The comlink on her vambrace kept going off, but no one answered. No one knew where she was.

“Come on! That’s cheap, ba’vodu! I’m going to tell Ba’buir Nejaa!” Tann screamed down the ‘field’, a dirt spot that was at the edge of the settlement where they all played meshgeroya. The young Twi’lek flipped a green lek over her shoulder in a huff at her ba’vodu doing yet another victory lap.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you! I can only hear winners, these are winner's ears,” Kaiyah winked over her shoulder at her moody niece and the cohort the eleven-year-old had. Most were at that age when they wanted to be treated like adults since they were two years away from their Verd’gotens they had decided that since they were almost adults it was just as good as being adults.

Holding her elbow, kicking the dirt, Tann looked as sad as she could. Her aunt usually fell for the tooka cat eyes and if she did this time then they could finally win one round. “Ba’vodu, come on. You don’t need to brag about it.”

Kaiyah jogged up to her niece from down the field, “Alright, alright. We’ve been playing for an hour, let’s wrap it up. Ba’buir is going to be on my ass for that paperwork soon and I know that most of you are sluffing training.”

Various huffs and groans of teenagers and pre-teens filled the air, all of them complaining about something that was “like, totally unfair” at their age. Laughing to herself, Kaiyah started to replace some of her armor, ignoring the commlink that was blinking with missed messages. As she tightened her pauldrons into place, pressure filled Kaiyah’s head and her eyes started to water. It felt like someone had crushed her head into a wall and knocked the wind out of her in one go.

A burning sensation pricked all across her face before all the pain and pressure seemed to come out of her left eardrum. A tinny ringing sound became the only sound she could hear and she hit her knees, grasping at her injured ear.

Something in her chest didn’t feel right, her arms and legs were on fire, and trying to catalog all of her injuries felt useless at this point. Something bad had happened and suddenly from the way it felt. Tapping at her vambrace to get ahold of someone Kaiyah’s chest ached. It felt like a bantha had stomped her chest, whoever in the galaxy was on the brunt end of this had to be going through hell.

“I’m not covering for you, we aren’t kids anymore, Kaiyah,” Ro drawled. Ro was her brother and best friend, he had been with her through thick and thin. They had affectionately been called ‘twins’ throughout their lives, even if Ro wasn’t bui'tsad and their birthdays were months apart. As a stocky blue Twi’lek it was fairly obvious to anyone that even though Ro and Kaiyah weren’t blood-related, they were still family. Their place in each other's lives was decided long before they were born.

“Field. West, west field,” Kaiyah groaned. She was lucky that breathing wasn’t difficult for her, just painful. The ache in her chest turned to sharp pressure on every inhale and she couldn’t say much else before Ro started going down his list of questions.

“I’m on my way, keep me on the line. Tann?”

“Fine.”

“Just you?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Damned soulmate decided to fight something bigger than them,” Kaiyah exhaled in a rush.

“Is breathing painful?”

“No, I’m pe-peachy keen. Don’t worry ‘bout m-me.”

She could hear the eyeroll over the comm as Ro muttered something to whoever he was with. “Ba’buir is coming with me. We’ll get you squared away, just keep stay on the line.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes now. If Ba’buir was coming then that meant half the town would follow. The two best medics in the settlement weren’t called away for nothing. Tann decided to save the day, pushing her lime green lekku behind her shoulders she kneeled beside Kaiyah and took over as a messenger between her buir and ba’vodu.

Going into her best calm medic mode, a skill Tann no doubt picked up from Ro, she answered all of her buir’s questions with efficiency. Repeating whatever medical jargon she could from the bare bones set up she had, Kaiyah’s heart rate and a catalog of injuries were done by the time everyone else got to the field.

And by everyone, Kaiyah meant everyone. Her entire family rush the dirt-packed clearing, Ro rushing forward in his teal armor, one blue lek noticeably absent with medical kit in hand was followed by Ba’buir. They were the family’s leader as well as Arumorut’s alor and Kaiyah was supposed to be following in their footsteps at some point if her soulmate ever turned up. Dagon was not far behind, Tann’s Edalinare and Kaiyah’s brother-in-law, the tall willowy Zabrak man in flowy clothing headed straight for his daughter, carefully clearing the way without letting her feel underappreciated.

“I’m fine, Ro, Ba’buir. Leave it. It just caught me off-guard,” Kaiyah shrugged off the blue Twi’lek and tan human hands re-checking vitals, shining lights, and prodding just to see if it hurt. “Just let me stand up, please.” The ringing noise hadn’t let off and it still felt like she got face fucked by the ground, but nothing was burning so that was a start.

Nejaa shoved their stubborn granddaughter back to the ground, making direct and intense eye contact with her, “Don’t move until I tell you to. You can’t blame us for being a little paranoid.”

“Ba’buir’s right. Chest pain isn’t usually associated with bonds,” Ro cut in as he took Kaiyah’s blood pressure, ignoring the double meaning of their grandparent’s statement. Soulmate bonds were tricky, especially if the pair hadn't met yet and Ro knew it was a sore subject. “Lightheaded? Dizzy?”

“No. I’m honestly feeling a lot better,” she grunted as light was flashed in her eyes again.

“Did you eat anything today?” It honestly didn’t matter which medic asked the question, it was the same answer.

“Yes. Fruit and caf. Was just about to go for lunch.”

“You can’t put off the budget, Kaiyah. It’s important to run Arumorut. You have to take the duties you do have seriously,” Nejaa badgered.

Annoyed, she sighed through gritted teeth, “I know, Ba’buir. I was getting to it.”

“Before or after you spent hours ‘getting lunch’?”

Fully standing and brushing off the incessant scrambling, Kaiyah grabbed what was left of her armor and weapons, “With lunch.” Stalking off she made her way back to her house on the other side of town, shutting herself inside to be left alone.

Days like today made Kaiyah hate Arumorut. According to some super old tradition that Ba’buir Nejaa still upheld, the alor had to be with their soulmate. For her buirs that meant being married, for Ba’buir it was that they had found them, lived with them, had a child with them, but ultimately lost them when they decided to go different ways.

Since Nejaa and Kai had found and been with their soulmate they could technically lead, even if the soulmate wasn’t around. Supposedly, the tradition kept things fair, kept alors from overreaching and taking people or places that didn’t belong to them.

The problem Kaiyah had wasn’t even really the whole having a partner thing, she got why the rule was still in place. That a perfect Mandalorian, someone who had their other half, someone that the manda had flawlessly created, wouldn’t be driven by greed or pettiness. She wasn’t mad at soulmates, it was just everything surrounding that.

It was that every time she got a new scar it was like not all hope was lost on the Awaud family. That she could still carry the legacy her parents and grandparent had built, that she was always a good alor. When the scar eventually faded and there was still no soulmate that had fallen out of the sky or when she came home from a mission alone, it was back to her being dar’manda, a failure, laandur.

It was a cycle she couldn’t escape and days like today were just a stark reminder of that fact. The gossip had spread before she even got home she was stopped, commented on, and blessed in the ten minute trek back to her house.

A seventeen-year-old newlywed tried to give Kaiyah advice on how to find her soulmate.

A decrypt Mando had ‘prayed’ over her for guidance, whatever that meant. Mandalorians didn’t pray.

Someone had not so jokingly stated that with scars like that it would be no time at all until their dumbass land squabble got resolved. Kaiyah could have solved it months ago but there was a reason she didn’t touch it in the first place.

She tried to see it as the clan wasn’t out to get her, wasn’t trying to displace her based on the fact that she had been nearly thirty years single. They wanted - needed - an alor and it was her legacy. It was her path. It was what the Ka’ra had decided on. It was what Arumorut wanted for her. Most of the time she could brush off the remarks, she could keep going, doing what good work she could. She had been doing it for fifteen years and what she was doing now wasn’t going to change when she got this galaxy altering soulmate.

It had also been fifteen years. Kai’buir was missing to his people. He hadn’t left his home, hadn’t said a word to another person in just as long. Kai’buir hadn’t officially led his people since he had led them to The Rebellion and Arumorut had been patient with the Awauds for too long. Kaiyah appreciated that and if she was in their shoes she would also want someone to step up and lead, especially if they had been training for it during their buir’s silence.

It was just so humiliating that what she was right now wasn't good enough. She was a decorated war hero by the time she was thirteen and had run multiple ops since being home. She had been doing this job tirelessly for almost twenty years. She was a good alor and everyone only saw what she couldn't do. It wasn't like she had decided to stay single, she wanted to have someone everyone else did.

She was one of the very few people in town who went home alone, slept alone. Did everything alone. Kaiyah had tried looking early on, it wasn't like her scars were ones that just anyone would have. Mandalorians lived hard lives and Rebel Mandalorians lived a life even harder than that, to say her scars were unique would be an understatement. No one ever matched, not even people she thought she had something of a spark with. After one too many disappointing partners Kaiyah finally gave up. If the Ka'ra wanted them together it would happen just not on her timetable.

As the chronometer on the wall announced the twenty-eighth hour, Kaiyah’s mind refocused on the stupid budget she had to balance.

Arumorut was a fairly self-sustaining community, anything extra went to the clan so no one had to worry about much of anything. Medicine, food, water, and weapons were all provided to the people of Arumorut. Some people ran businesses and the catina in town was a popular hotspot but everything the town needed it had.

This meant that once a week a ‘budget’ was needed to be balanced and prepared for the next week. It was a checklist that made sure the food bank had enough food, the water tanks were full, and everyone who needed supplies had them. It was the most important part of being alor, but it was also the most boring part.

Kaiyah was awful at record-keeping, math without action wasn’t her strong suit. Anything without action wasn’t her strong suit. Show her how to do something and it was no problem, she could do physics under blaster fire, rattle off the export of every planet in a system during a dogfight. Force her to sit down and look at just the raw data, she was useless. It took her a whole day to get this budget done because of that situation. No matter how much she pushed for a different one, for people to do their Maker damn bookkeeping, it never got through.

Because she wasn’t alor.

Because she didn’t make the rules.

Because this was the way it was always done.

Sighing, Kaiyah bent over the holopad and got back to work. She had to push all through the night to get it to Ba’buir first thing in the morning but it was done. For now. As Nejaa scanned over the information and made notes on what could be moved or exported, they dropped threw a detonator into Kaiyah’s plans of sleeping and sluffing.

“Harbinger’s coming home. Should be at the dock this afternoon, I can’t welcome him back because I have clinic this afternoon. You’ll have to do it.”

Kaiyah reared back, shaking her head in disbelief, “Absolutely not. I’m not doing shit for him.”

“He’s your cousin,” Nejaa pointed out, looking up over their half-moon glasses.

“He’s lived here before. I’m sure he could figure it out.”

“It’s custom.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“He’s family.”

“He’s chakaaryc,” Kaiyah growled.

“It’s also been ten years, you’re both adults and this is not a debate. Be on standby for his arrival.”

At noon exactly the docks commed Kaiyah to let her know that Harbinger’s ship was in the atmosphere and that they had to clear space for “Stella”, apparently, she was a “big girl”. Harbinger wasn’t even on the surface yet and he was making her skin crawl.

As Kaiyah made it to the docks she did a scan out of habit. Arumorut’s docks were unique because the town was pushed up in a pseudo-valley of sorts. A mountain to the north gave them the advantage of foothills to hide in and convert to docks but meant an uphill trek to reach the ship. It was a sacrifice they all were willing to make to have them close by and not scoured for parts or homes by scoundrels and animals. The docks also gave jobs to those who were mechanics or mechanically inclined.

Her scan stopped when Kaiyah spotted her cousin was stepping off his ship. Harbinger Awaud was best described as a mid-thirties know-it-all prick. Barely a few years older than Kaiyah, he was still gangly and awkward-looking in his armor. His face pinched and angular, the short military cut he hadn't changed in the decade he was gone highlighted the sharp points of his face. She always thought he looked like he needed to take a shit but couldn’t leave the conversation.

“Cousin! How good to see you, after all this time,” Harbinger smiled. The scar on the left side of his mouth pulled strangely at the movement, forcing the smile to tug wider on one side.

Kaiyah knew he was lying because she had given him that scar ten years ago. There was no way in any hell that he was happy to see the person who cut his face open after he called Ro a leech sucking the greatness out of the once great Awaud family just because Ro was adopted. Harbinger had left Arumorut not long after the altercation and Kaiyah couldn't say she was sorry to see him leave.

“Harbinger! Glad to see you back home. Find everything you were looking for?”

There was something that was always a little off about him, even before he left like he thought he knew something everyone else didn’t. It usually came off as smug and arrogant but there was something else, something off-putting about Harbinger in general. However, if he wanted to play this diplomatic route she would let him, he hadn’t directly offended her yet.

Kaiyah guided his small group off the dock on one of the foothills and down to the settlement, Harbinger having come home with something of an entourage. A small, mousy woman clung to his side, holding the edge of his cape. She had a matching scar on her face that was mostly covered with her long black hair. It was much longer than any Mandalorian dared to keep their hair, especially since she wore it down.

It made Kaiyah pause in her mental bashing of Harbinger. This woman was not a Mandalorian, not that she would ever judge that Dagon wasn't a Mando either, it was just interesting to see someone who had touted that born Mandalorians were the only right Mandalorians come home with the opposite of what they preached.

Following the couple, there were two more Mandalorians. A man and a woman followed the couple, their armor matching Harbinger’s in various shades of maroon. The man had blue in his armor and the woman had white, but Harbinger wore nearly head to toe maroon. He had repainted in his time away, covering the green and brown.

They didn’t take off their helmets to greet Kaiyah and Harbinger didn’t bother introducing them. It raised some alarms in her head, this posse of power. Harbinger was always popular somehow, but this felt different from friends following each other across the galaxy. It felt like soldiers waiting for orders.

“Yes, I have found quite a few things in my travels,” Harbinger pulled the woman under his arm while they walked, “This is Sonja, my riduur. Sonja, this is my cousin, Kaiyah. Say hello.”

Sonja shifted under his arm and waved to Kaiyah, tucking herself into Harbinger’s side after the task had been completed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I hope you enjoy Armuorut, Sonja. And your friends?” Kaiyah nodded behind them to the other couple.

“You don’t need to worry about them, they’re just here for a layover,” Harbinger dismissed her question. It was a tad insulting, not enough to pick a fight over, especially not with her precarious cling on leadership. Just generally demeaning as Harbinger usually was. Kaiyah not so secretly hoped he would put another boot in his mouth and give her a reason to kick him out of Arumorut once and for all.

The town boasted nearly every walk of life and creed. New Mandalorians walked beside those that carried the creed and even people who never swore Resol’nare lived here. It took a lot of diplomacy and patience but Ba’buir Nejaa wanted Arumorut to be what Manda’yaim couldn’t be for them, someplace safe for everyone, not just some.

Kaiyah was fine with it, everyone had to be to stay, but for her and Ro it was especially easy to intermingle with most people since they had grown up in The Rebellion and not in Arumorut. Because of how many faces changed and plots were uncovered in her childhood Kaiyah was quick to judge who was a good jogan and who wasn’t. It didn’t hurt that she was usually right, either. People had a lot of tells and tells repeated themselves, it was an easy pattern for her to see once she noticed that there weren’t a lot of good liars, or people, in the galaxy.

Arumorut was one of the last truly safe places that no one knew about for a reason. Not many people could live the way they did and very few Mandalorians were willing to live alongside people who ‘wronged’ them or ‘weren’t right’. Harbinger had been one of those Mandalorians, he openly and brazenly stated his opinions on foundlings and non-human Mandos for a while before Kaiyah had taken him down a peg or two.

People like him were bad for Arumorut, Kaiyah thought they were bad for the culture as a whole, that people who thought like Harbinger were those creatures who were constantly eating themselves. Nothing good would ever come from something that destroyed itself.

Trying her best to lead like her Ba’buir would, Kaiyah guided the group back into town and got Harbinger and Sonja settled into Harbinger’s old home, at the insistence of her aunt and uncle who claimed that their son would be home soon his house had been maintained in his absence. The two unnamed Mandos were settled into rooms at the barracks, since Harbinger claimed they were only there for a layover they wouldn’t need a home.

The town was buzzing with Harbinger’s return, the entire situation was fuel for the fire of gossip and Mandalorians were good at it. Bounty hunters, bodyguards, and mercenaries were all in the business of being up in someone else’s business and it transferred to their personal lives. Secrets weren’t kept in Arumorut, they couldn’t be, it was best to assume that if one person knew, everyone knew.

Another thing Mandalorians were good at was parties. It wasn’t a well-known secret that Mandalorians played as hard as they worked and with Harbinger announcing his marriage there was no better time for one. A bonfire was thrown together for the next night and most of the town greeted Harbinger with open arms. How many were honest about that would remain to be seen but for the time being everyone wanted to know what the prodigal son had been up to since his not so graceful departure and Harbinger was happy to entertain.

Ale and food were supplied by everyone and kids ran circles around each other in between sets of music and dancing. It was packed like Arumorut tended to be and Kaiyah was standing off to the side of the bonfire, the sweet spot right between the ale table and the dancers. Ro and Dagon were next to her, all of them keeping watch over their family.

“Who do you think is next?” Ro asked, adjusting his one lek as he leaned against his husband. He knew that Dagon had to have some information on the town that he was dying to share.

“Come on, Ro. We all know the Beviin girl is planning on purposing to their partner soon, I wouldn’t be shocked if it happened tonight,” Kaiyah scoffed, brushing a tuft of hair off her face.

Dagon nodded along with Kaiyah, his dark ponytail swishing with the movement, “Yeah, we’ve all known for years that they’re each others runi. They’ve both turned eighteen recently so I’m sure Kashida - the Beviin’s girl - is just waiting for the perfect moment. Greer has their first mission soon too, next week I think. And this is all assuming they haven’t eloped already.”

“Who do we think eloped?” Harbinger interrupted. He had his arm around Sonja’s shoulder again. Kaiyah hated it. It looked like he was holding her in a headlock, dragging her around with no care. Even though he was technically considered an Awaud, none of the ones here liked him and decided to give him the cold shoulder. When no one answered the question Dagon took the lead, saying that it was just some young people in town.

“Oya! I wish them many years of happiness,” He looked down at Sonja and squeezing her to his side slightly. It looked awkward, like it was supposed to be a hug but ended up far from it. “It feels just like yesterday we got married, right riduur?”

Sonja nodded silently, looking at Harbinger like he hung the moon and stars. Kaiyah didn’t get how she could think that but he was her cousin, not her riduur.

“Have you found your riduur yet, Kay?” Harbinger asked, looking up from Sonja. It wasn’t like he would know, he had been gone for a decade and it was a fair question, but the way he said her nickname sent a chill up her spine.

Her buir had given it to her, saying that two Kai’s was two Kai’s too many and she really should have thought that through when Kaiyah was born. She hadn’t been called ‘Kay’ since buir died. And Harbinger had just spoken it, out loud, in nearly fifteen years and said it in the most condescending tone.

“No, not yet, Harry. The manda works in mysterious ways.”

Harbinger’s face changed and Sonja drifted behind his body. It was a brief flash, like a mask dropped, the eyes going cold and empty before he laughed loudly and suddenly, clapping Kaiyah’s shoulder a bit too hard. In response to the outburst, Ro stood to his full height beside Kaiyah, moving Dagon fully behind him. Dagon was tall for a Zabrak, he was nearly head and shoulders taller than Ro but he didn't wear armor, and based on where this was going he would need it.

Before anyone could say anything or step in between the Mandalorians, the night shift captain called for the alor. Ba’buir Nejaa met the captain in the middle, standing a few yards away from the group. Kaiyah stepped around Harbinger and resisted the urge to shoulder check him, no matter how much she thought he needed it. Whatever soul searching he told people he’d done wasn’t true, something much worse happened in Harbinger’s time away.

The shift captain went to Ba’buir and whispered something in their ear, Ba’buir nodding along. They brought the captain’s ear to their level and whispered something back, Kaiyah on the sidelines of the conversation. She was used to this, it never really mattered how much training had been put into Kaiyah. She wasn’t a leader and according to the rumors she wasn't supposed to know about, she would never be.

Ba’buir leaned over to Kaiyah after the captain had taken off, “We received an emergency comm from Nevarro. I don’t know how many are coming, the captain said they refer to themselves as a ‘tribe’. What do we have open?”

Kaiyah rattled off the numbers from the budget she finished a few nights ago, taking away the barracks that the two new Mandos had taken they had roughly twenty houses and thirty barracks. The food supply was a little iffy, less than they would like for a group of refugees coming in. Water was the same but they would be fine and everyone donated a little extra when refugees came in.

Vlemoth Port - the planet that Arumorut resided on - was strange in the way it was arctic and sub-tropical at the same time. It just depended on what side you were on and lucky for them Arumorut was on the sub-tropical side. It was easy to harvest water from the humid air, or even purify it from the nearby rivers. Hunting was easy on this side too, meat was never in short supply and if they could stretch the donations it would be fine.

Ba’buir nodded, there wasn’t much else they could do about the situation, especially with a few hours' notice, “We’ll head up there now. Try and get a head start on the organization for aliits and a headcount.”

Kaiyah mentioned that they should air out the houses and personally took on the tasks of setting up the homes. Who knew how long they had been shuttered? What if the newcomers would want to eat or shower after Maker knows how long in space? After a quick plan was made and a few more hands were shuffled into helping Arumorut got to work.

Din sat a moment beside Kuill’s grave. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to do today. The Armorer, IG-88, Kuill. They had all sacrificed for his miscalculations and risks, even if they knew that death was an option on the table. It was bittersweet knowing that he had some of the best people in the galaxy by his side and that that number was substantially less now. Everyone had done what they could and were loyal to the end, even if the endings weren’t what they expected.

Din took the win where he could, the Imps weren’t chasing the newly minted clan anymore and Din had a pretty good lead on some Mandalorians that might be able to help The Child get home thanks to The Armorer. A hidden clan on the planet of Vlemoth Port was the next step and that meant the mission could be over before it ever began.

It could have been the near-death experience, the kid saving him again, or all the mistakes made today but it was another reason Din was reflecting. The kid was strong, stronger than he had originally thought. Healing Karga and throwing the fire back were no small feats, especially when no one else could have done anything about it. Going even farther back, when the two had first picked up Cara and the arm wrestling competition had gone wrong was the kid protecting him.

While Din knew more than ever that finding a Jedi was the top priority now, he also knew that a switch had happened. He never really saw himself as a caretaker and was always so worried that every choice was the wrong one that the thought of ever separating from the kid wasn’t a concern of his, he had made it a quest to get him settled somewhere safe. Din might not have known a lot about kids but he knew that following him across the galaxy with the target that was on his back was no way for ad’ika to live, no matter how old they were.

The thought of the kid being away from him now? He couldn’t fathom it. There was no part of the galaxy that the kid was going to be in that Din wasn’t following. Wherever the kid went, Din was going to be there too. They were aliit now, it was The Way. He selfishly let himself hope that this clan wouldn’t know any Jedi, that maybe Din could keep his aliit for a little bit longer. He allowed it for about thirty seconds before he boxed it up and shelved it at the back of his mind, this wasn’t about what Din wanted or didn’t want. This was about getting the kid home.

After adding the new names to the remembrance he sat the kid in the Crest’s co-pilot’s chair. As Din moved through the pre-flight checklist he had done a million times he heard the kid chewing on something. Glancing over he looked at the womprat, “What do you got there?”

Fishing the Mythosaur necklace of the kid’s mouth, he spoke out loud, “I didn’t think I’d see this again. Why don’t you hang on to that, might need it where we’re going.”

Translations & Lore (in order of appearance):

ba'vodu: aunt/uncle

ba'buir: grandparent

meshgeroya: limmie or bolo-ball (the Star Wars version of soccer) literally meaning 'the beautiful game'. A Mandalorian obsession, even going so far as to call it 'the other national pastime'.

Verd'goten: coming of age hunt, usually taking place at 13. It tested a lot of things, overall it was mostly fighting and survival, once passed the Mandalorian was considered an adult and was treated equally within the clan. I feel weird writing 13-year-olds as 'adults' but when you need as many soldiers as you can get, I guess it makes sense?

Bui'tsad: Biological family, rarely used.

buir: parent. Mando'a gets tricky here because it's usually a gender-neutral language. There isn't much difference between what we would consider 'feminine' words and 'masculine words like mom/aunt/grandmother and dad/uncle/grandfather. It is stated though that mothers were usually presented with 'buir' vs fathers where the first three letters of the father's name in front of 'buir' (example would be Din would be Din-buir, his female spouse would be buir). I'm not entirely sure how this would work with gay parents or nonbinary parents, please let me know if you have any ideas because I have both in this story and I'm Struggling.

Alor: leader, chief

Edalinare: Zabraki, family.

manda: collective soul or heaven, being Mandalorian in body, mind, and spirit.

dar'manda: state of not being a Mandalorian. Not an outsider, but having lost your culture. I usually use it in the meaning of soulless, since a lot of Legends Mandalorians thought that anyone who hadn't taken the Resol'nare was dar'manda. Kinda Catholic that way.

laandur: delicate, fragile. Usually used as an insult meaning pathetic and weak

The 28 hour days is a thing on Vlemoth Port. I would die. How do you even organize a 28 hour day?

Chakaaryc: Rotten, low-life. Usually describes someone of dubious ethics.

maroon is the armor color to symbolize power, green is duty, brown is valor.

riduur: partner/spouse.

Resol’nare: Six tenants of Mandalorian life.

Manda’yaim: Mandalore

runi: soul, poetic use.

Oya!: lots of meanings, literally being 'let's hunt!" it's always positive and triumphant. Usually, it's in the context of 'cheers!'

Aliit: family

The remembrance: said daily it means, 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal' typically followed up by the names of those you've lost.

#the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x original character #din djarin x original character #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x oc #din djarin #the mandalorian #female original character #kaiyah awaud #mar'eyce

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inarretable · 4 months

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@debelltio —✦ forget - me - not : has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ? are they afraid of forgetting things like that ? accepting !

As the creeping essence of the shadow seeps the minds of those to follow the dark side's call, Karitza struggles to retain her sense of self throughout this new journey. Opting to choose a more diverse path, she strives to retain some of her morals and connections to her past while accepting her role as a knight of ren.

She tries to hold on to the lessons she has learned, scars she received from past failures or poor decisions, attachments lost or kept, memories of her childhood. To abandon all of these aspects of herself would mean to truly plunge into the darkest realm of consciousness and surrender herself to the abyss. And to her, that level of power is not worth the sacrifice of her own free will. The dark side is a tool to be leveraged, but it should not erase your identity. Nor should unwavering devotion to the light. She aspires to exist in a murky gray, perhaps stained deeper than she intended, due to her attachment to her charges.

But despite that internal vow, she has began to forget some of her jedi teachings. She has given into her rage more often than she is proud of. She is losing her drive to fight for something better. The years have eroded her will and exhausted her sense of determination. The challenge of keeping her former charges tethered to solid ground in lieu of letting them fall too deep feels like a losing battle. Whittling her down to overseer and attack dog for the group, rather than the mentor and sage she once was.

#⭒✧ — comlink » inbox #debelltio #thank youuu #⭒✧ — weapons do not weep » study #⭒✧ — out of armor » ooc

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communistkenobi-archive · 4 years

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Rylothian Sunset

Kanan tries to make Hera a drink.

This is part of a much, much larger post-Rebels WIP, but I prepared this for Day 6 Date Night prompt for @kaneraweek.

—

“Big upgrade from the Ghost.”

Hera wasn’t paying attention. Or more specifically, she wasn’t paying attention to what Kanan was saying—she was too absorbed with the warmth of his hand on her arm and the easy smile on his face. It flipped her stomach in the same way a steep descent would, giving her the distinct impression that she was rapidly falling away from the deck. She hoped it never stopped.

“Paging General Syndulla.”

A snap of his fingers made her look up. Her chest squeezed so tight for a moment that it was hard to breathe, let alone answer him. Clearly sensing how overwhelmed she was, Kanan’s expression sobered.

“You okay?”

He was touching her cheek now, a gentle sweep with his knuckles that did not in any way help clear her mind. Forcing herself to breathe, her voice came out strangled. “Yeah.”

His mouth quirked, and then he pulled them aside as a green-looking lieutenant brushed past them in the hallway, giving her a periphery nod and Kanan an odd look in passing. Hera squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe that would help, since staring at him only served to push her closer to another sobbing, disbelieving breakdown.

The impression of his face burned behind her eyelids. It didn’t help at all, because now she focused on how good he smelled, how warm he was. With a considerable amount of willpower, she formed a complete sentence in her head. “We should… get out of the hallway.”

She could hear her comlink beeping. She could sense more people passing them in the hallway. Technically she was supposed to be working right now, but Giginivek had at least relieved her of commanding the bridge for the time being. That conversation had happened an hour ago; a distant, far away period where her life had been vastly different.

Dimly, she felt Kanan flick off the comlink at her wrist, and his hand took up its position at her bicep again. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and deep, and that was not helping, either. “How about we go sit down somewhere?”

Hera blinked. Could she do that? She could probably do that. Walk to another place and sit, alone, with him. The thought made her shudder. She looked down at the hand on her arm—simultaneously an anchor to reality and the reason she was so unmoored in the first place. Her fingers brushed the back of his hand, and she startled when they didn’t just slip through. He was really here.

“Hera,” he said again, shaking her gently. “You’re kinda freaking me out now.”

Right. She had to respond. “I’m okay,” she rasped, feeling like she was trying to speak through sand. She really, really could not afford to start crying in the hallway, in front of people whose lives hinged on the commands she gave them. She’d already done enough of that on the bridge, but there was no space in her chest to feel embarrassed about that right now.

“You’re feeling alright?” He sounded truly concerned now. His touch was soft on her cheek, his fingers sure. No one held her like this anymore, and she was going to turn to goo in his arms if he kept doing it.

Her hand found his wrist, stopping him from completely overwhelming her, and nodded shakily. “I’m just—happy.”

What a stupid, meaningless, trivial word. She was happy when she found less than twenty new emails in her inbox in the mornings, or when she had enough free time to eat lunch sitting down. There was no word for what she felt right now.

But Kanan seemed to be growing more worried by the second, and they were getting a lot of stares. “Um,” she hummed, swallowing down the ache in her throat and giving him a tentative smile. “How about the officer’s lounge? There’s—there’s some nice seats in there, and a bar.”

He gave her a lopsided grin, and he must have known what that would do to her poor, overworked heart. “I haven’t bartended in a while,” he said back. “But I would love to make you a drink.”

She laughed at that. Or maybe laugh was the wrong word—snorting like a flustered girl was more appropriate. Hera covered her mouth with a hand, feeling her face heat. “I don’t think alcohol is a good idea right now,” she whispered. “And you can’t read the bottle labels, anyway.”

“Then you can help me out,” he whispered back, and there was no part in her that could find a reason to say no.

Choking back something that was either a sob or a laugh, Hera nodded again. “Yeah, okay.”

When Kanan grinned again, stars began to wink her in vision. “It’s a date.”

—

Kanan let out a low whistle beside her as the officer’s lounge door slid shut behind them, and Hera gave him a confused look.

“You can tell what’s in here?” she asked, feeling a slight chill on her arm when he pulled away to approach the bar. Their short walk here had allowed her to collect her thoughts somewhat, to console herself with the fact that she was not in some euphoric dream state where Kanan would slip away the moment she made the mistake of letting go of him. Still, her head was spinning, and it probably would for a while.

“I can smell it,” he replied, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Real wood. Thick carpet, too,” he added, tapping his boot heel on the ground. “Reminds me of Republic ships—Old Republic ships,” he corrected himself, shooting a grin her way. “Forgot you built another one while I was away.”

“You’re easily impressed,” she murmured, but she smiled back. In truth, the officer’s lounge was extremely modest—a small room tucked under the bridge, with only a seating area and a bar. The most extravagant thing they had was a paperback bookshelf that lined the back wall, enclosed behind a glass cabinet and an old manual lock to keep everything in place whenever they jumped to hyperspace. It was meant mostly as a hideaway from paperwork and a place to calm one’s nerves, but compared to the Ghost, or any other place they’d been in the past decade really, the Lodestar’s lounge was the height of luxury.

“Well,” he hummed, and she watched him vault over the bar counter to stand behind it. “Now it’s my turn to impress you. Sit down, General.”

He gestured to one of the bar seats, and she hopped up onto it, resting her cheek against a propped up fist as she leaned on the counter. Kanan had turned his back to her and was rummaging through the drawers, giving her a clear view of the sharp lines of his back, easily seen through his t-shirt. She hoped he sensed how intensely she was ogling him.

“So,” he drawled, turning back around with a cloth in hand. He began to rub at the counter, a smarmy grin on his face. “What’s all this I hear about a rebellion?”

It was impossible to keep a straight face. She laughed, which dissolved Kanan’s theatrically sleazy expression into a warm, genuine smile.

“You need to make me a drink first before I tell you,” she said, and ran a coy finger along her edge of the counter. He couldn’t see it, but the swagger in his movements told her he could definitely hear it in her voice.

“And what does the lady like?” He hung the towel over his shoulder and leaned an elbow on the bar, appraising the modest rack of liquor behind them. “We’ve got—well, I don’t know what we’ve got. Can you believe they make a blind guy serve drinks in this place?”

Hera’s finger drew away from the edge of the counter, sliding across the small expanse of wood over to his bare forearm braced on the bar. He looked back at her at the touch. “How about a Rylothian Sunset?”

He slapped the wood and stood up. “You bet. But you gotta tell me where the appela is first.”

“How about I just—”

“Ah-ah,” he cut off, holding up a warning hand when she began to stand up. “No customers behind the bar, ma’am. Not this early in the evening, at least.”

Hera rolled her eyes, but stayed in her seat. “Okay, hotshot. Open the left cabinet.”

“My left or your left?”

Her head was already swimming as another bubble of laughter rose to the surface. It was definitely a bad idea to drink. “Kanan—”

“That’s a bit informal,” he said, and tapped his chest where a non-existent name tag might go. “I haven’t even learned your name yet.”

“Are we really doing this?” Her cheek found her fist again, a wide grin on her face as she watched him fish a glass out from the drying rack nearby.

“Full service,” he replied easily, setting the glass down with a solid clack on the counter. “It’s what I woulda done back on Gorse if I had the time. And, y’know, we weren’t being hunted for sport and all that.”

Maybe she really was going to burst from joy. Her face already hurt from smiling.

“Mm,” she hummed, instead of falling to the floor or launching herself across the counter at him. “Fine. Your left.”

It was a game of hot and cold, guiding Kanan to all the bottles he insisted on grabbing himself. She sorted them neatly on the counter for him as he brought them down, arranging them sequentially so he wouldn’t have to guess at what he was using. And because the Lodestar was a New Republic flagship and not an actual bar, they had to get creative with substitutes.

“You guys got any garnishing salt?” he asked, sliding several ice cubes into her empty glass. One clattered across the counter and fell to the floor, and instead of picking it up, Hera reached over with a foot and crushed it under her boot.

“We have packets of table salt in the galley,” she said skeptically. “But you’re in luck, because Rylothian Sunsets don’t need any.”

Kanan shook his head, completely ignoring the objection. “Unbelievable. What about fruit picks?”

She didn’t bother to tell him fruit was also not a garnish in the drink, opting for another beaming smile instead. “None of those either, I’m afraid.”

He frowned disapprovingly as he shook up the appela with the fruit juice he’d de-frozen by running it under hot water, along with a generous amount of sweet liqueur that she couldn’t figure out how to pronounce.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know how to make a Rylothian Sunset,” she murmured, watching him pour the mix into her cup. The ice crackled as he did so.

“It’s a house blend.” He tossed the mixing canister into the sink and picked up one of the bottles she’d directed him to grab earlier. “Do you want any sweet syrup?”

She took the bottle from him and handed him another. “That’s not sweet syrup. This one is.”

He frowned down at it. “So? You want some?”

Hera smiled. “No, I’m good.”

He gave her an exasperated look and set the bottle down. “We don’t tolerate discriminatory behaviour in this establishment, ma’am.” Kanan punctuated his point by thrusting a straw into her drink, and he slid it over to her side, leaving a trail of condensation.

“Is there any way I can make it up to you?” she asked demurely, blinking up at him as she sipped from the straw.

“I’m taken, if that’s what you’re asking.” He wiped at the counter again, getting most of the water and what little he’d splashed from mixing, and then began to collect the bottles from the bar, turning back to the cabinet.

Whatever he’d made her, it was good. The liqueur burned sweetly on her tongue and soothed down her throat, leaving a wonderful little ember burning low in her chest. The ice took most of the sting out, and she let out a lovely sigh as Kanan turned back to her, closing the cabinet behind him.

“How’s your drink?”

“It’s wonderful,” she murmured. The words came out with far more gravity than she’d intended, and Kanan’s smile slipped to something more serious.

“You’re okay?”

Her throat burned again, this time from tears. She swallowed them down. “More than okay,” she rasped, and then decided she didn’t want to spend another moment with anything between them. “Come here.”

He scooted back over the bar, and the moment his feet hit the floor, she pulled him into her. The bar stool was high enough that she could wrap her legs around his hips, and he cupped her jaw in his hands as he tipped down to kiss her.

This, she knew, was something she would never get used to, even if he kissed her a hundred times a day, every day for the rest of their lives. Her hands became fists in the fabric of his t-shirt, making it clear that he was not to leave the circle of her arms anytime soon. Judging by the pleased groan that caught at the back of his throat, he had no intentions of doing so.

She probably should have locked the lounge door, but Hera couldn’t find the energy to care. The entire ship surely knew by now that General Syndulla’s tragically lost Jedi lover was back from the dead—and if somehow they didn’t, they just needed to look out the bridge viewport at Ezra’s fleet of purrgil to know something very strange was going on.

Hera kissed him, desperately and furiously, until he pulled away to catch his breath. She felt a spike of annoyance at having something so trivial as a bit of oxygen come between them, but her lungs were burning. Hera gasped and pressed her face into the hollow of his collarbone, and his chin slotted perfectly in between the crook of her lekku at the top of her head, as if it was designed to rest there.

Hera closed her eyes, grounded by his solid warmth. She could fall asleep like this, she thought, and with a thrill she realised that she would be falling asleep beside him. Over and over and over again.

“So,” she hummed, feeling her eyes sting. “You’re interested in the rebellion?”

His chest rumbled with laughter, and his breath blew across her skin. “Yeah. Got any room for jackasses in your movement?”

She pulled back to look up at him, at his pale eyes and his short hair and his clean-shaven face, at all the familiar angles of his jaw and cheekbones, and wondered how she’d ever managed to live without them. “I do,” she whispered. “Right here.”

#rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #kanera #kaneraweek2020 #my stuff #my writing #lol oops almost forgot to post this

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