#Twi’lek Rose

[swanofcoruscant]

I’m so excited to begin leveling Twi’lek Rose she’s truly been on my mind for the last week and a half lately, her ass is gonna romance Theron too, as we romance him on ALL main playthroughs in this house

#I love u TR #Twi’lek Rose #I still love her tho #truly an angel #she’s the same but different compared to OG Rose #aesthetic is the same #race is different #but as a whole #she’s baby #SWTOR #Star Wars: The Old Republic #Twi’lek #TR is considered a main playthrough #since she’s still Rose lmao

[daimyosprincess]

SANCTUARY

—PAIRING: Boba Fett x Female Character

—SUMMARY: Sometimes sanctuary isn’t a place, it’s a person.

—WORD COUNT: 1.2k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: third person narration, explicit sexual content, Empire era!Boba, yearning, themes surrounding sex work, oral sex (fem receiving), open-ended ending (like not sad but not necessarily happy either? ends on a sense of longing)

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you so much @wolffegirlsunite for this amazing song prompt ask! I'm trying out third person for the first time (so lemme know if y'all like it) and idk if this counts as a reader insert but I intended for it to kinda be like one, so I kept the female character's description vague. I am also trying to practice writing shorter pieces with these song prompts and let me tell you!! I do not like shutting up!!! I have many thoughts concerning this man!!!! But it wouldn't be a challenge if it was easy 🤨

Enjoy besties 💖

Song: Sanctuary by Joji

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

If you’ve been waiting for falling in love

Babe, you don’t have to wait on me

‘Cause I’ve been aiming for heaven above

But an angel ain’t what I need

It’s always after dark when he comes to see her. Like a fallen star, he touches down on the glimmering world of Canto Bight in the dead of night—a whispered name amongst the patrons in the casino as he passes through the velvet ropes to the pleasure house above. Boba can feel their eyes, their titillation, their curiosity, their fear of him on his back as he ascends the stairs. He pays it no mind because when he crosses the threshold into the Black Rose, only one thing matters to him.

Low lights soon give way to neon walls where beautiful men and women dance, their dark silhouettes enthralling their audience as drinks are served and credits are spilled from pockets. Boba doesn’t bother to stop and admire the show, however, he strides directly over to the pink-skinned Twi’lek sitting in the corner booth. She greets him with a familiar smile, knowing who he is and what he’s here for. She nods wordlessly towards the curtain behind her and the guard steps aside to let him pass.

The music dampens to a dull thump in the gilded waiting room, the air fragranced with dusky rose and sultry amber. He takes off his helmet to let the sweet air kiss his face, a gentle brush over the tips of his ears, the bow of his lips, the tip of his nose. Boba breathes it in, the scent of his escape. The scent that clings to his clothes even after he leaves, reminding him that she’s only ever one call away, laying alone and empty of him. Those thoughts, that sinful fragrance… they make his body ache for hers.

It drives him almost as much as his desire to be the best to honor his father’s legacy. That dull throbbing in his bones is his pain’s pleasure: the satisfaction of completing another job is made even greater with the knowledge that his reward is waiting on Canto Bight. It’s only after his pucks are turned in and his bounties paid that he allows himself to see her. She is a wine he must only sip, her sweet intoxication too tempting to allow himself anything greater. 

Her taste already stains his lips, keeping him from coming in the light of day, despite that the dim interior is never any brighter than it is after the sun sets. Because then she would know. She’d know that if she’s holding out, waiting to fall into that unspoken love that she wouldn’t have to wait on him, that his heaven isn’t one floating in the sky. An angel isn’t what he needs... it’s her. 

That’s why he no longer seeks out anyone else to fulfill his desires, why she’s become the only one. Boba has experienced the thrill of pleasure with many in his years, discovered what he liked and what gave him the release he required to keep his mind clear. Most of all, however, it revealed how he needs the warmth of equal to truly soothe the burning in his core, something more than just the colorful amusement of a dancing girl or the rough diversion of another hunter on a long job. He needs more, firmer ground to touch down upon. He needs a sanctuary.

She likes to make him wait for a couple minutes when he arrives, let their mutual anticipation build to a low boil. Swiping on her trademark ruby lipstick, the Madame of the Black Rose smiles at her painted reflection. Boba Fett is in her waiting room, fresh off a hunt, pent up and ready to burn through all that raw energy. He needs her. He’s never said as much, but she knows that’s why he comes to her, to work through the knots in his soul after being wound so tight. 

Donning the sheer black robe laid out on her chair, she saunters into her waiting room practically purring with delight. Boba is reclined on the low slung chaise, legs apart with his helmet propped on his knee. His pretty lips twitch into the smallest of smiles at her appearance, his dark eyes glinting with salacious intention as they slip down her body. All she has to do is hold out her jeweled hand and he’s pushing her back into her rooms, his hot mouth sealing over hers.

The fervid way they tear into each other, pulling clothes and armor off as quickly as their tangled limbs will allow, speaks the words their lips do not: what you want is what I want. Sincerity in motion, acted out but never spoken of. Two souls that lie awake when apart dreaming of the courageous, secret reality where they give into something real. Something that they passed off for child’s play or a fantasy fit only for those on the opposite side of the galaxy’s underbelly—either way, certainly not something for them. Bounty hunters and working girls, no matter how revered or expensive, don’t get happy endings together. Not in this life at least. 

When he kneels between her thighs, Boba revels in the slick warmth and breathy moans that she allows him to wring out of her with his tongue and fingers. One orgasm is not enough for him, nor two, and just barely three before he comes up for air, panting praises and curses into her soft skin while she runs her nails through his hair. It gives her such pleasure, such luscious pride to see his glossed over eyes and slick-shined face so overwrought and pussy drunk. She hasn’t even touched him properly yet and he’s a man consumed.

When he finally gives her his cock, it’s hard and leaking, flushed with violet want. She relishes in the way he fills her cunt every single time he takes her; the lurid stretch of him burns in her veins, her heart pounds against her ribs as he snaps his strong hips against the back of her thighs. When she flips him on his back to ride him how she likes, she yanks his face up by his curls to kiss and bite and bruise her way into him. Maybe if she kisses him long and deep enough, he’ll hear all the things she cannot bring herself to say. That if he loves her like she loves him, he doesn’t have to wait any longer to make her his. That she doesn’t want an angel or a savior, just him. 

Skin to skin and cheek to cheek, she hopes there’s an osmosis of sentiment. Fuck me harder, she begs her with body, fuck me like you’re not going to leave. Fuck me like our lives won’t end up apart. And he does, again and again, every time he darkens her door. He digs his fingers in, sinks his mark into her giving flesh, pulling her so close because they can never know how long their lifetimes will be. When he holds her so tight her lungs protest and her ribs threaten to crack, she locks her legs around his muscular torso and presses her lips to his ear. We can aim for heaven above, baby, you don’t have to wait on me.

#i have so much to say about this man #especially empire era!boba and all his feelings #zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x ofc #boba fett x oc #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #sanctuary fic

[toomanybandstocare]

{Caring Hands}

Program: After months of heartbreak and worry, your roommate takes you out for a night to your old stomping grounds- 79s. A bar that used to hold such fond memories of spending blurry night with your friends of the 501st legion by the side of your riduur, Rex. tonight, it seems the magnetic pull between the two of you is determined to bring you together for one last chance.

Pairing: Ex! Rex x Ex, GN! Reader

Side Pairing: Fives x OC! Kiva

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances

Length: 3956w

Warnings: Pet names (Lover, Cya're, Cyar'ika, Riduur), Drinking to the point of being tipsy/drunk, Heartbreak, Swears, Barely edited

Captain's Notes: Hi guys!!!! It's been awhile. Life has been a force (hehe, no pun intended), but I've been really enjoying my rewatch of the Clones Wars series. And I am simply in love with so many of the clones/boys. They make my heart very happy and fuzzy. It's been nice to revisit one of my favorite shows from my childhood, and the fact that Rex is still my favorite character (other than Ahsoka) makes me feel happy and at home.

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

Camper Tags: @staygoldwriting

The soft green and muted yellow lighting envelop you in an intimate atmosphere of buzzing excitement. Music thrums through the air as the 79s’ clientele swirl around the dance floor or wrap themselves around this evening’s partners in booths. As the war invades every nook and corner of the galaxy, the GAR’s unofficial bar offers its services for wayward individuals who look for a semblance of normalcy. A chance to forget the lingering, stale breath of unknown destruction breathing down everyone’s necks. Time stands still at the mercy of drunk shouts of excitement.

“You know,” Kiva drawls as he drags his cocktail’s straw across his lower lip, “going out to bars and clubs is more interesting if you actually speak to people”. His deep, teasing chuckle shudders through you more than the deafening bass.

“You know,” you hum as the tingling sensation of your fifth drink courses through your veins, “going out to bars and clubs is more interesting when you aren’t surrounded by your ex's brothers. Who happen to share extremely similar physical features”. Your voice drips with whiskey and venom.

Leaning onto your white knuckled fist, you down the last few sips of your liquor unable to pull your eyes away from the booth in the alcove corner just past the bar. The unmistakable colors of the 501st and 212th battalions flash under the pulsing lights as troopers recline in the booth or lean over the seat backings to join in on the conversation. Your attention flitted between your roommate and the CO table when the two of you sat yourselves at the bar at the beginning of the night. When you caught sight of hidden smirk and mischievous glint in his amber eyes, you ordered the first round of shots. Your eyes stung from neon lights that lit up the bar area of the tenders to see their work and as you watched Rex pull the beautiful Twi’lek close to his side. His hands palmed her soft curves and pulled her as close as possible. Bile rose up and bit the back of your throat as you threw back another drink. 

As alcoholic cloudiness eases into your system, a sigh pushes past your lips and you turn your gaze to Kiva. His dark eyes look past you as a small half smile grows on face. Blinking at him, you follow his gaze. Leaning against the section divider of the CO table, Fives animatedly speaks to a friend from a different battalion whose armor is decorated in a scratched gray paint.

“You know,” your voice light and airy with its teasing melody, “going out to bars is more interesting if you go speak to people”. You jab your elbow into his arm and signal to the bartender for another drink.

“I’m not going to leave you here, heartbroken and drunk,” his tentacle tresses bounce around as he shakes his head, “Especially, alone. It’s a remarkable phenomena that you’re still able to form a coherent thought at the rate you're consuming spotchka shots”. Taking a sip of his drink, Kiva eyes you, “Besides, I don’t even know him”.

A bubbling giddiness washes through you as you look from Kiva to Fives to your fresh drink in front of you. Tracing a slightly trembling finger around the glass, you take a deep breath. Just because your trooper romance didn’t end how you had hoped doesn’t mean the same will happen for Kiva. Especially if he’s interested in sweet Fives.

“His name is Fives- CT-27-5555, if you want to get technical. But, only his twin is allowed to call him that, so don’t even think about it until he says you can use it” your voice is warm and quiet. It drips with whiskey and sweetens the soft smile you share with Kiva. His shocked expression causes a flurry of giggles from your lips. “He’s an ARC Trooper in the 501st. Too charming for his own good, but he knows exactly what to say at any moment,” you share as you watch Kiva’s lovestruck expression fall back onto your former friend. Taking a slow sip of your drink, a wave of conflicting emotions tumble through you. If you stepped one foot too close to that booth, all eyes would be on you. As much as you wanted to help Kiva, you knew that the night would only end abruptly if you inserted yourself back into the group.

“Doesn’t mean he’s into guys though,” Kiva nervously deflects with a wave of his hand and the last sip of his cocktail.

“Every time I would run into him, he would find a way to ask about you. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation that didn’t somehow include your name since he met you at Hellkai’s birthday party,” you carefully use the leg closest to him to start pushing him off the barstool.

“Wha-what,” Kiva stammers as he slightly stumbles out of his seat.

Before he can protest, you throw both your feet on top of the stool and cross your legs. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave. Either with me, or with Fives. Just let me know, and I’ll crash a couch somewhere. Now go have an interesting night,” you exclaim and shove him in the direction of the clones.

With every step Kiva took, the fleeting feeling of happiness seeped out of you. Although you see the nerves bouncing in Kiva as he weaved his way through the mass of tipsy dancers, you know he’ll be in caring hands. When he clears past most of the crowd, you see Fives stand up a little straighter and beam past the other trooper’s shoulder. Like a missing piece of the picture, Kiva finds his place next to Fives. A twist in your stomach tingles as he rests a hand on the back of Fives’ neck. With ease, Fives rests his hand on the small of Kiva’s back, and the tingles flame inside you. When their gazes meet, the coil snaps in you and you tear your stinging eyes away from the touching scene. Good for them. They both deserve happiness.

“You alright there, mesh’la?” a gentle hand rests on your shoulder. With a jolt, you snap your head and are met with a concerned clone. Your breathing becomes heavy as you open your mouth to send him away, but the sight of scratched blue armor with a medic symbol on the shoulder causes your throat to constrict.

“Hey, hey,” Kix slides closer to you and rests his other hand on your cheek, “It’s okay. Just too much to drink tonight, huh? How about some water then? Wait, you- you look familiar.”

“I’m fine,” you croak out and swing your body away from his caring hands to face the bar. You keep your shaking hands around your whiskey glass and watch the iceball water down your only ally in the bar.

“Wait a minute,” his timber voice hummed closer as he slid into the now open stool, “It is you. What- what are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry, Kix. I’m not here to ruin anyone’s fun. Just trying to have my own,” you bitterly chuckle.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kix rests an arm on the bartop and shifts his body closer into your personal space. His usually soft eyes flood with concern as he takes in your appearance. “I- we haven’t seen you in months, mesh’la. Thought you moved planets- kriff, even to a different system. Rex wouldn’t let up any info, so we all thought it was an emergency”.

You’re barely able to keep the choked sob locked behind your grimace as your heart pounds in  your throat. The truth trying to break past your loyal lips. Shrugging, you keep your eyes locked on the flowing lights that twinkle behind all the glass bottles. The cold synthetic material of your glass balances on your lip before you throw it back.

“Enough,” Kix hisses and grabs your wrist to pull the cup away. His look of disbelief causes a twinge of guilt to register in your haze.

“Come one, mesh’la. Let’s get you home,” Kix carefully wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up. 

Panic stabbing into your skin, you throw some credits onto the bar and try to drag your feet to stop him. “Kix, what are you doing?” you hiss. 

“Making sure nothing bad happens to you. Why were you alone over there? You must have seen us in our usual spot,” Kix looks at you in confusion as the two of you work your way through the throng of dancing bar goers.

“Because,” you try to quickly clear the situation before you are recognized by any other clones, “there’s a reason that Rex didn’t want to talk about me”.

You try to wriggle out of Kix’s hold once you see Kiva and Fives wrapped in each other’s arms. “Seriously, Kix. Leave it alone. You’re doing more harm than good,” you practically beg.

“What are you talking about? Look, even if you and Rex are in a bit of a tricky spot, I can guarantee that you’re his endgame. The man won’t stop talking about you,” Kix sends a genuine smile your way and rubs his thumb in soothing circles on your side.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Fives calls both of you over. Kiva straightens up in Fives’ embrace as he watches the two of you walk towards the booth.

You frantically shake your head and try to think of a plausible excuse to get out of this. What was once your safe haven for nights out now spits you deep into enemy territory.

“I thought I said to keep it easy on the drinks,” Kiva chuckles uncomfortably and moves to your other side, “Time to go home, huh?” Slipping his arm around your waist above Kix’s own, Kiva turns to say something to Fives.

“Wait, no. Do you have to,” Fives castes the two of you a sad look. “I didn’t even know you were plantside, and now you try to scurry out in a rush? That’s just rude,” Fives jokes.

“Come join us, mesh’la,” Kix coaxes you, “All the guys have missed you and would be thrilled to catch up. We’ll just get some sodas for the rest of the night”.

“You’re joking. No way in haran that me and Jesse are letting you go home before we start the games,” Fives reaches for your hand as you shake your head so hard, it nearly causes you to tumble over.

“Fives, cya’re, it’s time we go home. This one can’t even stand on their feet,” Kiva tries again and successfully makes one step closer to the exit. Which is one step closer towards Fives and the entrance to the CO booth.

“Cyar’ika, let’s get them in a seat then,” Fives leans into Kiva’s chest to whisper something in his ear. You feel the excited tremble on Kiva's side and another wave of guilt washes over you.

“Guys, come one. I’m fine. Definitely not my worst night out, so I can get home with no issue. Kiva, why don’t you stay here,” you pull away from the group and notice the growing number of glances you’re all attracting.

“Why are you trying to run from us? I thought we were your friends,” Kix’s voice is dry with confusion and hurt.

“We can hang out another time. I promise. I’m just tired. You said it yourself, I’ve had enough for tonight,” you frantically try to deescalate the growing unease in the area as you sway and twist through the crowd.

Not even caring about bumping into other patrons, you focus your attention away from the twisted expression on Kix’s face and the shouts of recognition from the CO table.

You use your elbows to move others out of your way, but the dull, plastoid armor does nothing but bite back at you. Blaster boots and high heels trip you as you lose yourself in the crowd once more. Your heart jumps in time with the rhythm of the song blaring. Sweat sits heavy on your skin as you break free and try to find sight of the exit.

Hallow pants wrack your body from the close proximity of other patrons, but you find the neon blue exit sign for the door. Taking the first step, you continue your trek to fresh air as you narrowly push past another clone and jostle the drink in his hand.

“Watch it,” the gruff voice mumbles.

Two words in a bitter tone are all that cause your blazing body to turn ice cold. He’s supposed to be up in the booth.

“Sorry,” you breathe out.

With a weary look from the corner of his eye, the clone’s stoic expression is broken by shocked realization. “Cyar’ika,” Rex’s voice rumbles.

“I’m just on my way out, so don’t worry about holding back. Okay? It’s all good. Have fun tonight,” you mutter breathlessly and sway a step forward.

“Hey,” Rex gently demands your attention. He twists his body to face you completely and holds out his free arm to catch you from falling.

“Are you-,” Rex looks at you with tense, uncomfortable eyes, “Are you okay? You look-”.

“You don’t get to ask that anymore,” you growl behind gritted teeth. Pushing his arm out of your way, you continue your trek to the exit. You are so close. Just a few more bodies to get past.

“Wait a minute- kriff,” Rex exclaims and gently grasps your arm.

“Stop it,” you hiss, “You’re going to make a scene. Just let me go. Let me go, again.” The final word sits heavy in the air, and Rex’s grip tightens around you for a moment.

“Take this,” Rex mutters, “I’m walking this one home. Too much to drink”. Without a moment to register who he was speaking to, Rex pulls you along to the exit. Not even casting a glance to make sure you could keep up with his determined strides.

Stumbling behind Rex, you can’t find the strength to pull your arm out of his careful hold or tear your glossy eyes away from his figure. With each step closer to the entrance way, you choke back the dry sobs that well inside you. You had hoped that the last time you were with Rex in the 79s that it would be a happy memory. Instead, the galaxy decided to throw the two of you together for one last spat.

The cool night time air soothes your burning cheeks. Speeders and cruisers fly past the entry line of rowdy soldiers and excited patrons as they wait for entry. Coruscant’s cityscape lights up the starry night with synthetic warmth from billboard to skyscraper.

“Same place,” Rex asks softly.

Not answering his question, or allowing yourself to meet his pertinent gaze, you feebly pull your arm out of his comforting hand. “Please, stop,” your hollow voice responds.

“Cyar’ika,” Rex says in exasperation, “Come on, you shouldn’t be out like this. Let’s get you back-”.

“Stop,” your hoarse voice pleads as you begin walking back to your apartment. Memories of walking home with Rex after a night out with the 501st should bring you happiness. You didn’t want them to be tainted by the lingering heartbreak of tonight if you could help it.

The racing sounds of nightlife mutffle your hearing, so a stab of fear strikes you when you feel yourself being suddenly tugged into the side alley of 79s.

“Enough,” Rex growls into your ear. He leads both of you out of sight and behind some of the bar’s shipment crates. With careful hands, he lightly pushes you into the wall and stays pressed up in front of you. Just enough room for you to push him away if you really wanted to. Just enough room to intoxicate your senses with only his presence.

Running his hands over his cropped hair, Rex watches you with a glint of frustration in his eyes. “I tried to be nice,” he starts off in a low voice.

“I didn’t fucking ask. I told you I was leaving,” you bite back. Your finger nails dig into the palm of your hand.

“Will you let me speak,” he snaps. His chest plate rising and falling in heavy breaths. “You were the one kicking up a scene in there and out front. What are you doing here?”

“You don’t own this bar, Rex. Anyone can come and enjoy a night out,” you seethe.

“I may not own this bar in a legal sense, but this is the closest place us clones can call home. You know that. Why not some other bar? I told you- we’re done. We had a nice run. But we need split ways,” he rumbles. With each painful word, his face moves closer your own. Hard, amber eyes lock with yours as mixed emotions flash across the surface to show peeks of the soft look of adoration underneath. The musky scent of his cologne mixes with the whiskey on his breath to make you feel dizzy. “That includes where we spend our nights out. Now I’m going to have to bat off Kix and Fives for who knows how long”.

“That’s what you wanted. Not me,” you lash out. His eyes widen slightly at your volume, and you jab his chest plate with your finger before he can regain control of the conversation. “I didn’t want our relationship to end. I didn’t want you to let me go. I didn’t even get a say in the matter. And, I certainly didn’t ask you to be nice”. Your voice steadily grows in volume as your body trembles in anger. “You're a soldier. You made where your loyalty stands, so fucking clear. If this is your choice then you have to own up to the consequences of your actions. So dealing with your squad’s questions -- my fucking friends, who I haven’t see because I for some fucking reason respected your request for space -- about why I haven’t been around or why I was so desperate to leave tonight, is your own fucking fault. Kriff, for someone who is haran bent to follow orders and lead by a good example, you’re an awful person”. 

Rex takes a step away from you. Hurt melts away his anger, and he looks down at his boots. Fists flexing by his sides.

“This isn’t you,” you quietly sob, “I know you. I know the real Rex. Your boys know you, and they see something’s wrong”. With shaking hands, you softly hold his armored hand in a careful clasp. “Why won’t you let me in? Let me help you. All I have wanted in our relationship is to be by your side and support you”. You take a daring step closer to him, and when he doesn’t pull away, you wrap him in a tight embrace. 

The cool plastoid feels grimy to your skin. They couldn’t have been plantside for more than a few hours. Desperate to taste a sense of home and normalcy after the latest dire mission. Tentative hands drag across the fabric of your shirt and press you further into his chest plate.

Rex flexes his fingers to gently pull your body as close as he can with armor still sitting heavy on his shoulders. Pressing his face into the curve of your neck, he breathes you in to try to ground him. It’s always been you. Your face is the first image that would grace his vision when he closes his eyes each night. Memories of small acts of love keeps him grounded when news of a lost brother is announced. The echo of your laugh overpowers the crashing bomb shells on the battleground. No matter where in the galaxy he travels to, Rex can only think about you and how you have cared for him. He couldn’t risk that being taken away from him. He couldn’t risk anyone trying to use a GAR officer’s riduur as leverage.

“Enough,” Rex’s broken voice pleads into the crook of your neck. He closes his watery eyes and pulls you closer when you tenderly trail your finger across his back plate. Even with GAR issued armor and regulation protection, Rex knows your caring hands will be his downfall.

“Rex,” you gasp in his ear. Your voice light like the cool breeze that causes both of you to shiver. “Rex, I-”.

“Don’t,” he begs, “Don’t say it”. He drags his nose across the column of your neck, and both of you feel slight dampness where your bodies connect. Placing a gentle kiss in the dip of your neck, Rex shakes his head and pleads, “Cyar’ika, if you finish that sentence I will never be able to walk away from you. Not even when I’m called back to base for training or briefings. Especially, not when I know I face death like a familiar acquaintance everyday”.

“But, you didn’t face death today,” you hold him closer. The two of you are trying to mold into each other. Either to rekindle a lingering flame or to imprint a final memory of each other’s body to forever remember. “You face your lover today. Your lover who only asks one thing of you”.

Rex shudders a pained breath that sweeps across your skin. His lips trail everywhere as he can’t find the strength to pull himself away from your hold. “I can’t stay, cyar’ika. And, I can’t put you through the constant pain of not knowing if I’m alive,” his words break with a sob. “I’m trying to protect you. I don’t get to make many choices for myself or my  life, but I have the choice to protect you. I will always choose you, your safety, and your happiness over my own. My runi is tied to yours, and I am bound to you for darasuum”. Overwhelmed by emotions, Rex moves his head to lean his forehead against yours. Tears freely stream down his face as he bares himself in front of you.

“You are my happiness, riduur,” your gentle affirmation is met by a pained whimper. “Without you, I am nothing but a body. My runi is tied to yours, and I am bound to you for darasuum. Come home, lover”.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you,” Rex whispers. His amber eyes glisten as he watches your own eyes trickle with tears.

“Then come home where you belong. By my side. I don’t ask you to give up your brothers or stay away from the battlefield. Let me know that when you come planetside on leave, that you’ll come home to me and let me care for you”.

Unable to tell where one body starts and the other meets, the two of you keep each other in a searing embrace. Tears stream together as you press closer to his face. Nose bumps cause choked chuckles to fall. Heavy breaths fan across chapped lips just millimeters away from meeting in the middle.

“Please,” your soft plea ghosts over his mouth. Your invitation tastes of home cooked meals and warm caf in the morning.

“Always, cyar’ika. I will do everything in my power to come home to you,” Rex promises and places a gentle kiss on your growing smile, “I’m so sorry I left you, riddur”.

One hand slips just underneath the hem of your shirt to feel the familiar planes of your body as Rex rests his other hand on the nape of your neck. Unable to fight against the force pulling the two of you together, Rex dips down and presses a chaste kiss to your beaming smile. Another falls soon after, slightly longer as he traces the curve of your bottom lip with his tongue. And another when you look at him in adoration that pulls a soft sigh. A new sound to allow himself to reimagine when he misses you. Ready to come home to caring hands.

#clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone trooper rex #clone wars one shot #clone wars one shots #clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfic #tcw fic #captain rex #clone troopers #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x y/n #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x male reader #clone wars x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars x reader #captain rex fic #captain rex fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex imagine #captain rex imagines #captain rex fics #reader insert

[yelena-bellova]

Instinct: Din Djarin x F!Reader - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: A New Journey

Plot: Din and Y/n begin their quest to find both Jedi and Mandalorians.

Warnings: canon typical violence, hints of fluff

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: We’re back!! I’m trying to finihs up the series by the time s3 comes out, but no promises with how my life goes from calm ot chaotic so quick. This is very much a filler chapter, the story gets going soon though, so hang tight. Hoep you enjoy!!

——————————

Along with our quest to find Jedi, we were also searching for the Mandalorians.

The Armorer hadn’t been much help, only saying that some may have escaped Nevarro and gone off world. The galaxy was wide and we had to try and narrow it down.

Din, the kid and I disembarked the Crest on some dark and dank planet I couldn’t remember the name of. Din had gotten word that there was an Abyssin with information on a rogue Mandalorian.

It was the strangest family outing ever.

We traipsed through the alley, the child floating in his pram and taking in the scenery. He seemed to be adapting to our vagabond way of life. He wasn’t turned off at all by the glowing red eyes of creatures unknown, which felt mildly concerning…

We walked with our eyes trained ahead, but I felt Din’s glove brush my hand. He tapped out our signal, two beats against my palm. It worked as a code of sorts in different situations. Today, it was a comforting gesture.

We approached the building we’d been told we’d find our contact in, the doors were guarded by a Twi’lek male. Din and I approached as equals, but I let him do the talking.

“We’re here to see Gor Koresh,”

The Twi looked us over before opening the door, “Enjoy the fight.”

Din stepped in first, I let the child’s pram pass me before bringing up the rear. We descended into the madness that was the arena, a Gamorrean fight serving as the main attraction. Rowdy crowds surrounded the ring, gamblers betting away their lives. It felt scummy enough to remind me of Guild hideouts.

Din led us to a few empty seats, next to an Abyssin who matched Gor Koresh’s description. We sat down, first row to the fight that was getting uglier with each passing second.

“You know this is no place for a child,” Koresh commented.

“Wherever we go, he goes,” Din replied.

“So I’ve heard,” Koresh looked me over, “Your woman might have been more comfortable waiting in the ship.”

“I’m fine where I’m at,” I said, keeping my tone even. It would always be a man’s galaxy.

“We’ve been quested with bringing the child back to his kind,” Din turned the conversation around, “If we can locate other Mandalorians, they can help guide us. I’m told you know where to find them.”

Koresh shook it off, “It’s uncouth to talk business immediately. Just enjoy the entertainment.”

Fights as a performance had always seemed barbaric to me. I’d picked up plenty of bounties at them throughout the years and had never seen the appeal. Apparently, I was the only one who held that opinion. The child cooed at my side when one Gamorrean made a particularly nasty swing. Yeah, I thought, he’s getting way too comfortable with all this…

“Bah!” Koresh exclaimed, “My Gamorrean’s not doing well. Kill him! Finish him,” he turned, “Do you gamble, Mando?”

I chuckled, we’d need something to gamble away to even answer.

“Not when it can be avoided,” Din replied.

“Well, I’ll bet the information you seek that this Gamorrean’s going to die within the next minute and a half. And all you have to do is put up in exchange is your shiny Beskar armor.”

I leaned forward, “And that’s fair how?”

“If you’re looking for fair, sweetheart,” Koresh said, “You’re on the wrong rock.”

“We’re prepared to pay you for the information,” Din got us back on track, knowing I’d have pushed the ‘sweetheart’ comment, “I’m not leaving our fate up to chance.”

Koresh leaned closer to Din, “Nor am I.”

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a blaster, firing a shot at one of the Gamorreans. The crowd exclaimed and ran for the exit at the same time three men behind us rose and pointed their blasters at my and Din’s necks. We didn’t move.

“Thank you for coming to me,” Koresh chuckled, “Normally, I have to seek out remnants of you Mandalorians in your hidden hives to harvest your precious shiny shells. Beskar’s value continues to rise. I’ve grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I’ll peel it off your corpse,” Koresh’s eyes flicked over to me, “And I might let you keep your girl.”

The whole thing would have bothered me a lot more if Din and I hadn’t planned for betrayal.

“Tell us where the Mandalorians are,” he said confidently, “And we’ll walk outta here without killing you.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a gambler.”

My hand twitched with anticipation.

Mando’s flicked his wrist, activating the Whistling Birds.

The child reached over the side of the pod and closed it.

“I’m not.”

Din sent the Whistling Birds into the chests of Koresh’s men, the shock giving us time to get to our feet. I pulled my new, significantly longer, vibroblade from my gauntlet and sliced one of their throats. Mando kicked the kid’s pod away from the action before diving back in.

One of the benefits I had discovered about having Jedi powers was my heightened senses. I could feel everything going on around me without ever seeing it. I’d always thought I just had good instincts, now I knew it was a special skill. Behind me, I could sense the remaining Gamorrean coming for Din. As he ducked out of the way, I fired at the Gamorrean to make sure he stayed down.

The Twi’lek guard put Din in a tight hold, while another patron handled his front. While he escaped the Twi’s arms, I stabbed my Vibroblade through the other attacker’s shoulder. I used his shock against him and wrenched him backwards before kicking him against the ring. Din was handling another one of Koresh’s men, it was almost too easy.

The guy I’d just taken out rose, blood running down his arm from the wound. He came at me with fists raised, I ducked and swerved to the side. Carefully, I led him backwards and just as he was about to throw a punch, I dropped to the floor so his hand hit the metal wall behind us. He screamed, giving me the opportunity to leap onto a bench and launch myself onto his shoulders. I squeezed his throat until his airways constricted and once his knees hit the ground, I tuck and rolled off and landed a kick to his head.

Din was to the side of me, fighting off the last two still standing. As the final one approached, the two of us each withdrew our blades and flung them in perfect synchronization.

“Glad we practiced,” I said, trying to catch my breath.

A noise at the door made us both turn, Koresh was trying to escape.

“You go,” I told Din, “We’ll bring up the rear.”

He strode out as if he had nowhere to be, his confidence in his abilities had bothered me when we first met. Now I loved it.

I walked over to the kid’s pod after retrieving our knives, opening up the hatch. He looked up at me as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“We’re absolutely scarring you, aren’t we?”

The kid squeaked in response.

“You seem okay with it,” I shrugged, programming the function on my gauntlet Din had recently installed so the pram would follow me, “Let’s go find your dad.”

If Din would have been with us, he would have clenched up. I’d taken the Armorer’s words to heart and had begun calling us the child’s mother and father. Jokingly, of course, but I’d noticed that we both had settled into our new roles with ease. We were finally getting the hang of being “parents.”

I climbed the staircase out of the arena to find Din stringing Gor Koresh up on a lamppost.

“Stop,” Koresh relented, hanging upside down, “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you where he is. You must give me your word that you won’t kill me.”

“I promise you will not die by my hand,” Din finally said, “Now where is the Mandalorian you know of?”

Koresh struggled, “Tatooine.”

“Huh?” I couldn’t help but say. Wouldn’t we have heard about it last time we were there?

“The Mando I know of lives on Tatooine,” Koresh stated again.

“I’ve spent much time on Tatooine, I have never seen a Mandalorian,” Din said.

“My information is good, I tell you,” Koresh grunted, “The city of Mos Pelgo, I swear it by the Gottra.”

Din and I shared a look, or rather, he caught my look. I only had to barely raise a shoulder and he knew we were in agreement.

“Tatooine it is then,” he said back to Koresh, leading our little party away from the Abyssin.

“Wait, Mando,” Koresh called, “You can’t leave me like this! Cut me down!”

Din didn’t break stride, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Lady, are you gonna let him do this to me?”

“Oh, you were right,” I said, turning around to let him take in my innocent expression, “This is no place for a woman.”

Mando and I switched directions and he shot out the streetlight Koresh hung from, giving the red eyed creatures we’d seen earlier a late night meal.

“Your turn to pilot,” Din said casually.

“Nu-uh,” I replied, “I took over last night.”

“That was two nights ago.”

“Really?” I scrunched up my nose, “Huh, time flies, I guess.”

With the distant sounds of Koresh’s screams, we continued our conversation all the way back to the Crest.

—————————

By morning, we were on our way back to the desert.

I sat in the pilot’s chair, watching the stars streak past us in hyperspace. Flying had always seemed like a chore, until Din and I came together. Now even the simply act of flying through hyperspace was enjoyable.

Sometimes I couldn’t even recognize myself. A few months ago, I’d been content to never touch another person again. I’d sworn I was going to live and die on my own. Then Din came along, and then the kid. Now it was difficult to imagine my life without them. It was starting to become impossible.

“You throw on the landing gear?” Din asked, practically twitching from the co-pilot’s seat. We were nearing our destination.

I pursed my lips, trying to keep my tone even, “Yes.”

“Security protocols?”

“Mm-hmm.” I tried to put on a loving smile.

“Make sure that you tell them-“

I swung around in my seat, “Din, would you feel better if you landed us?”

“No,” he rushed out.

Turning back to the control board, I smirked, “In that case, I actually hadn’t thrown on the landing gear yet.”

The leather of his gloves strained and I smiled bigger.

I did, indeed, get us there in one piece. Peli’s hanger was open and we were permitted to land there. Din settled the kid in a satchel and slung it over his body. It warmed my heart to see him a little more relaxed, a little softer. When he was done, he came and put a hand on my shoulder, digging his fingers in and rubbing.

We had established a rule in both our professional and personal partnership. No affection could be shown outside of the Crest. If people saw us as anything but associates, it would give them something to exploit. Any and all affection between us was saved for the cockpit or our bunk.

We disembarked the Crest and entered the familiar hanger we’d only last seen a few weeks ago. Despite it being Tatooine, I didn’t feel the need to keep one hand on my blade. We were among friends.

“Come on!” I heard Peli before I saw her, “You know he doesn’t like droids.”

“May as well let them have at it,” Din said, “The Crest needs a good once-over.

I raised an eyebrow at him and I think he purposefully didn’t turn. Then again, he didn’t have to explain to me why his stance on droids had changed.

“Oh, so he likes droids now,” Peli said for us both before directing her droids around, “Well, you heard him. Give it a once-over.”

As we got closer, I could see her eyeing both our persons. “Well, I guess a lot had changed since you two were last in Mos-“

Din flipped the satchel around to show the child. I liked to imagine he was smiling underneath his helmet as Peli excitedly reached for him.

“Oh! Thank the Force! This little thing has had me worried sick. Come here, you little womp rat,” she took the child, who was happily babbling, into her arms, “Looks like it remembers me. How much do you two want for him? Just kidding. But not really. You know if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring.”

A loose hose hissed from the Crest.

“Hey!” Peli cried to the gonks, “Watch what you’re doing up there! He barely trusts your kind. You want to give all droids a bad name? Thank you!”

Din and I waited in humorous silence, we never had to do much talking around Peli. She did it all for us.

“We’re here on business,” Din explained, “We need your help.”

“Oh, then business you shall have,” she replied, “Care for me to watch this wrinkled critter while you two seek out adventure?”

If only you knew how much adventure we’d seen recently, I thought.

“We’ll keep you posted on that one,” I said, “We’ve been tasked with getting him back to his own kind.”

Ignore the little pain that comes with saying that, ignore…

“Oh, well, I can’t help you there,” Peli scoffed, “I’ve never seen any like it. And trust me, I’ve seen all shapes and sizes in this town.”

“A Mandalorian armorer has set us on our path,” Din continued for me, “If we can find one of my kind, we can chart a path through the network of coverts.”

Peli shrugged, “You’ve been the only Mando here for years from what I can tell.”

“We’ve got reliable intel that there’s one in Mos Pelgo,” I continued, “We searched every map possible, nothing came up.”

“Oh. Boy,” Peli exhaled, “Haven’t heard that name in a while. It was wiped out by bandits. Once the Empire fell, it was a free-for-all. I didn’t dare leave the city walls. Still don’t.”

Sighing, I looked up at Din. “We don’t have much of a choice,” I replied, “Where’s the body?”

“Normally, I’d charge for the information, but,” Peli tucked a rogue corner of the kid’s robe into place, “House discount. R-5! Bring the map of Tatooine!”

The astromech chugged along at its own speed. “No, seriously. Take your time,” Peli huffed, “You just can’t get good help these days. I don’t even know who to complain to.”

I stifled a chuckle as she continued to lambast the droid. If I’d have had any semblance of a normal life, I could have been perfectly content working alongside her in the hanger.

“Okay,” Peli started as the droid projected the map in front of us, “This is a map of Tatooine before the war. You got Mos Eisley, Mos Espa,” she moved the holo to a completely bare part of the planet, “And around this region is Mos Pelgo.”

“I don’t see anything,” Din said.

“Well, it’s there,” she replied, “Or at least it used to be. Not much to speak of. It’s an old mining settlement. They’re going to see that big hunk o’ metal long before you land.”

A completely remote part of the planet couldn’t be inhabited by that many people, if any. Mandalorians were hunted so viciously, it made sense one would go to the furthest corner of the galaxy to remain undetected.

“You still have that speeder bike?” Din asked.

“Sure do,” Peli nodded, “It’s a little rusty, but I got it.”

Once she found it and dusted it off for us, I got the child’s adjusted on the back of the bike. When I reached over to grab the handles and take the front of the seat, I ended up holding a very familiar hand.

“I was going to drive,” I told Din.

“You drove last time we were here,” he replied, not stopping his check of the machinery.

“Yeah, technically the last ride we took, I was on a Bantha and you were leading,” I shot back, “My turn.”

Din said nothing as he continued to fiddle with a few knobs. He was a control freak to the highest degree.

Rolling my eyes, I relented. “Fine,” I swung my leg over the bike and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing myself to him, “I’m actually getting the better end of the deal.”

I didn’t have to see him to know comments like that added a twinge of pink to his cheeks.

“And when will you two be back?” Peli asked loudly, hands on her hips, “I like you and all, but renting space ain’t free.”

We had no timeline, no semblance of a timeline, not even a thought of one. “Hopefully within a day,” I answered, regardless, “Maybe two. With payment.”

She gave us a once over before nodding and rubbing the kid’s ear as she walked away.

“Ready?” Din asked over his shoulder.

I tightened my hold on him, “Let’s ride.”

With that, we were off.

————————————

The journey to Mos Pelgo was tiring, even if all we were doing was riding. The dunes were dizzying after a while, the sun was scorching and stray grains of sand were lodged in my eyes.

The kid, on the other hand, was loving every minute of it.

Din convinced me it was a good idea to camp with the same Tuskens we’d met the last time we were across the Dune Sea. He could sign enough to communicate that we were just trying to pass and wanted no fight with them. That was enough to be let into their clan for one night.

I admired that as hardened and war scarred as he was, softness surrounded Din. He was diplomatic in a way that most hunters weren’t. He took his time with people. His heart, no matter how protected by Beskar, bled nothing but love. As we settled in to sleep against our bike, I pressed a kiss to the side of his helmet. Where I would have been chastised for such a public display of affection, he simply lowered his gaze and wrapped an arm around me.

The next day, following Peli’s exact coordinates, we made it to Mos Pelgo. It was a dreary little town that couldn’t have housed more than maybe thirty people. Still, a decent place for a rogue Mandalorian to be hiding.

I parked the bike outside of what looked like the cantina, hopping off with Din and striding up the steps. The child would naturally follow us.

Inside were only one or two afternoon patrons, along with a bartender. “Can I help you two?” He asked.

“I’m looking for a Mandalorian,” Din said at the counter.

“Well, we don’t get many visitors in these parts, can you describe him?”

Din paused for half a second, “Someone who looks like me.”

“Mmm,” the bartender hummed, “You mean the Marshal?”

“Your Marshal’s a Mandalorian?” I asked in disbelief.

The bartended nodded toward where our backs were turned, “See for yourself.”

Din and I turned to see a male figure, tall and confidant, standing in the doorway. Dressed in old, rusty, Mandalorian armor.

“What brings you here, strangers?” He asked, his true voice hidden by the modulator.

“We’ve been searching for you for many parsecs,” Din answered, this was his business to handle.

The new Mandalorian stepped forward, “Well, now, you found me. Weequay, three snorts of Spotchka,” he took the jug from the bartender, along with the glasses, and headed for a table. “Why don’t we have a drink?”

Now THIS I’d love to see, I thought, they really forget the helmets are there, don’t the-

My thoughts were interrupted by the hissing of the new Mando taking off his helmet. It revealed a handsome, middle aged, bearded man. The shock washed over Din and I.

“I’ve never met a real Mandalorian,” the man started, “Heard stories. I know you’re good at killing. And probably none too happy to see me wearing the hardware.”

Not too happy? He’s gonna tear every last shred off your body, leave a tip, and walk out like nothing happened…

“So,” the imposter kept talking as he poured glasses of Spotchka, “I figure only one of us walking out of here,” he held up a hand to me, “Ladies not included, of course,” he turned back to Din, “But then I see this little guy…”

I whipped my head around to see the child, peering into a spittoon.

“And I think, maybe I pegged you wrong.”

Din finally gathered the presence of mind to speak, “Who are you?”

“I’m Cobb Vanth,” he introduced, “Marshal of Mos Pelgo.”

“Where’d the armor come from?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

“Bought it off some Jawas.”

“Hand it over,” Din ordered, his voice like steel.

Vanth smiled, as if the whole exchange was amusing. “Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from. But ‘round here, I’m the one tells folks what to do.”

Internally, I cringed. That response wasn’t going to fly…

“Take it off,” Din took a menacing step forward, “Or I will.”

Vanth looked over to the spittoon, “We gonna do this in front o’ the kid?”

The child cooed from behind me as if to give his approval. We had definitely messed him up.

“He’s seen worse,” Din replied, unphased by anything the guy could throw at him. He had tunnel vision when it came to his religion.

“Right here, then?”

“Right here.”

I was calculating how long it would take for my knife to reach Vanth if he raised his gun. Could I make the shot that fast? Or was I better off using one of my blasters and saving the one strapped across my back for if things got really ugly?

The three of us stood in a triangle, hands hovering over our weapons. Tension mounted by the second, my heart thudded in my chest as I waited for Vanth to make the slightest move.

The ground shook under us suddenly, drawing our focus away. Vanth held up a finger and an eyebrow before heading out the door. Din and I wordlessly followed him.

The town had an alarm system set up, a blare echoed down the main path. Citizens ran for cover, diving into any building that would give them shelter. If Vanth wasn’t moving, I had to assume we were safe where we were.

The sand began to sink in on itself and it wasn’t long before a set of scales made itself visible through it. Whatever creature it was swam through the middle of the town as if it knew the way. On its way out, it swung out from under the sand and swallowed up a Bantha, whole.

Then it was on its way.

Words failed me as we stood in silence. What were you supposed to say to something like that?

“Maybe we can work something out,” Vanth said, turning on his heel and heading back into the bar.

Din and I had a delayed reaction, glancing to one another before following him in.

I let Din take over talking with the Marshal and I went to retrieve the kid. He peeked out from inside the spittoon, having taken shelter there during the monster’s attack. I grimaced, that was going to equal a bath once we were back on the Crest.

“Come on,” I coaxed, helping pull him out, “You’re okay.”

As soon as his feet hit the floor, he was seeking comfort against my leg. I bent down to rub his head, despite his well-adjustment to our chaotic life, he was still just a baby.

We caught up with Din and Vanth outside, scoping out the town post-attack. The citizens were lifting evaporators and generators that had fallen and sweeping sand off their decks. They didn’t seem phased by it. As if this were a normal series of events.

“That creature’s been terrorizing these parts since long before Mos Pelgo was established,” Vanth explained, “Thanks to this armor, I’ve been able to protect this town from bandits and Sand People. They look to me to protect ‘em. But a Krayt Dragon is too much for me to take on alone.”

He paused, thinking his next words over. “Help me kill it, I’ll give you the armor.”

Din looked to me, I felt it was less to see how I felt and more of a check to see how annoyed I’d be when he agreed. Knowing how much the armor meant to him, I wasn’t going to raise a fuss.

“Deal,” he confirmed, “We’ll ride back to our ship, blow it out of the sand from the sky. We’ll use the bantha as bait.”

Vanth shook his head, “Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses vibrations, stays underground.”

“So we’re going at it on foot?” I raised an eyebrow, maybe the armor wasn’t that important…

“I’ll let you scope the place out,” Vanth said, “I know where it lives.”

“How far?” Din asked.

“Not far.”

—————————

On our way to the creature’s hideout, Vanth entertained us with the story of how the Mando armor came to be his. He explained that after the second Death Star blew up, the Mining Collective moved in on Mos Pelgo. During a near-deadly shootout, Vanth was able to escape into the Tatooine desert. He wandered for days until a Jawa Sandcrawler found him, bringing him aboard and giving him food and water. When they discovered he was carrying Silicax crystals, they offered him any of their treasures in exchange for them. His eye caught the armor, thinking he could use it to run the Collective out of town, and asked for it. Sure enough, he rid Mos Pelgo of all crime and had carried on the same ever since.

In my mind, it was alright that at least he was using the armor for something good. Wearing Mando gear wasn’t anything I ever wanted, but if I’d have been in Vanth’s position, I wouldn’t have chosen any different. Din didn’t seem to take too much objection with it either.

Vanth guided us through one of the canyons until he came to a quick stop. Not too distantly, there was growling. Din and I took up our weapons and kneeled behind the bike. From behind the rocks of the canyon, a herd of massifs approached. Looking particularly unhinged, I was ready to fire, but Din gently pushed my gun down.

The noise that followed was…unprecedented.

Din shouted in Tuskan, drawing both mine and Vanth’s eye.

“What the hell you doin’?” Our companion asked for us both.

Din only held up a hand as he approached the animals. I prayed that whatever he was doing would save us so I got the chance to live and tease him about it forever.

He kept speaking until one playfully charged towards him. Din kneeled down and gave it a rub, having diffused all the tension.

Tuskens came out from behind the rocks, their body language wasn’t threatening on account of hearing their language spoken. Din began to converse with them while Vanth and I stood together, ready to point and kill at a second’s notice.

“Please tell me he knows what he’s doing,” he whispered under his breath.

“Trust him,” I said, the suspicion in my voice cancelling out my words, “Mando?”

Din looked over his shoulder, “They want to kill the krayt dragon too.”

“Well,” I sighed, slinging my gun over my back, “Lucky for us.”

————————————

Din ended up getting us an invitation to camp with the Tuskens for the night. Their cordiality continued to surprise me, considering their particularly aggressive reputation. But if we didn’t have a problem with them, they didn’t have one with us.

We (Din) held a conversation around a bonfire around dusk. I couldn’t speak Tusken, but I could tell from their signing that they were discussing the dragon. At one point, Vanth got offered one of their black melons. In the spirit of diplomacy, I had choked one down.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked.

“You drink it,” Din answered.

“It stinks.”

“Yes, it does,” I replied, nearly gagging at the scent again, “Bottoms up.

“Do you want their help?” Din asked.

“Not if I have to drink this,” Vanth shook his head.

The Tusken to our right had picked up on Vanth’s tone and began to speak, raising its hands in outrage.

“He says your people steal their water, and now you insult them by not drinking it,” Din translated as the Tusken continued, “They know about Mos Pelgo. They know how many Sand People you killed.”

Vanth wasn’t having any of it, “They raided our village. I defended the town.”

“Calm down,” I held out a hand, peace needed to be kept.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Vanth scowled.

“You’re agitating them,” Din warned.

“These monsters can’t be reasoned with…” Vanth got to his feet and got in the Tusken’s face, “Sit back down, before I put a hole through you!”

Din and I were up instantly, me pulling Vanth by the arm and him using his flame thrower to separate the two. Din took over speaking to the Tusken while Vanth shook off my hold.

“What are you telling them?” He asked.

“Same thing I’m telling you,” Din replied, “If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us all.”

Vanth glanced over to me, I only reenforced Din’s words with a nod. He sat back down.

“Now,” Din continued signing to the Tuskens, “How do we kill it?

He translated the Tusken’s grunts and informed us that in the morning, we’d set back out for where we’d met them. They would show us where exactly the creature lived and what we were up against. With the plan in place, we all settled around the fire, Vanth keeping one suspicious eye on our hosts until he physically couldn’t stay awake.

“This armor better be worth it,” I grunted as Din and I made ourselves semi-comfortable in the sand.

“If you want to go back, I won’t stop you,” he replied, “The Mandalorians are-“

I pressed a hand to the mouth of his helmet, as if it would do something. “We’re not doing this. Your fight is my fight. It would just be nice if we weren’t fighting a giant sand monster’s all I’m saying.”

Din laid down first and held out his arm, I tucked myself in next to him. We were breaking our no-contact rule, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Vanth was an ally, and even if he got himself in trouble, the Tuskens liked us. We could afford a little vulnerability. And once the kid slipped into my arms, everything turned from chaos to calm.

—————————

Instinct Taglist: @toribentleyvq @pan-ini @simp-for-corpse @spacedaddydinn @never-no-locomotive @cozyballofanxiety @miraculousreader @welcomethepedroverse @damerondala @x-judyjude-x @dindjarinsspouse @fishthemenace @aliyryun1401world @that-girl-named-alex @ssophiebirkas @jellybeanstacey0519 @elinedjarin @lycaonpictusphotography @morganlefaye13 @pancakefancake @eternallyvenus @kalea-bane

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#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #instinct

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#Star wars #mandalorian #Star Wars OC

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The Water Rescue

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types,  Pairings: Ahsoka Tano/ Hera Syndulla Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Hera Syndulla Warnings: Mentions of Drowning, Near Death, Injury, Burns Notes: For Whumptober Day 14 Prompt: Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.” Word Count: 1,106  AO3 Link: Here!

There were hands scrambling at her shoulders desperately. When her eyes opened, she was met not with the acrid battlefront, but the sting of salt-water, and the blur of green skin as her savior reached into the waters, finally getting a grip on her arms. 

Darkness swallowed her once more as the Green Savior started to pull. “Hey, Snips.” Anakin… She tried to chase his voice and the memory of blue eyes, tried to chase not the man he became, but the man he was. “I know you’ll figure it out- Where you need to be… You always do.”

Her back hit the cool metal of the extended ramp, hard enough for water to come out of her mouth in spittle; Someone started pushing against her chest and stomach, urging the water that was suffocating her from the inside to force it’s way past her lips once again. Sputtering, her savior rolled her to the side, allowing the Togruta to throw up sea water and splash onto their boots, soaked from their small dive after her.

It took too long for them to get oxygen into Ahsoka’s lungs, her eyes had shut before her first unobstructed breath, and before her body could register the frigid temperature of Seatos, leaving her frame trembling against the frigid aid and frozen ramp, even in unconsciousness.

Despite the Togruta’s expansive build, Hera had outgrown her by almost half a head, and while the Togruta’s muscles were a fine bit more defined, the Twi’lek had more than her fair share of lugging around the gladiator built Jedu that came into her life so often. 

Getting Ahsoka situated in her arms was not difficult, getting back to the improvised landing pad where the T-6 was settled was not difficult, but getting Huyang to back off for five seconds was proving to be impossible. 

“Huyang, please.” She called at last, having to dodge around the fretting droid so she could get Ahsoka into the bunk he’d been over preparing. 

With reluctance, the ancient droid looked between not-Jedi and Rebel, servos whirring as his head moved in contemplation. “Very well… I will go and thank young Jacen.” The droid finally relented, sparing his last connection to the Jedi temple one final look before moving somberly off the ship to find the young force-sensitive. 

Sighing to herself, Hera began the tedious work of peeling away Ahsoka’s sopping wet clothes, leaving them in a pile near one of the small emergency drains to take out and handle later. The state of the woman’s gloves were worrying, though she couldn;t imagine the pain the burns scalded into her palms had to be, leather scorched to raised skin in the lines and forcing her hand to curl painfully to avoid stretching ruined skin out. Poking experimentally as the injury got her a twitch from the force-sensitive woman. “Just hold on for me,” The Twi’lek whispered, rising to her feet with a quiet ‘pop’ of her knees. 

“Hera?” Ahsoka’s voice was rough and scratchy from all of the salt water she’d swallowed, her one good hand reached out to loop her fingers around Hera’s bare wrist, thumb pressing into her exposed pulse point, to double check that the woman in the ship was real and alive. 

“I’m just going to grab you some bacta, Kaa’lia. Is it still in the ‘fresher?” 

“Mmmm,” Was her only response as the woman’s hands dropped tiredly back to the bed, tugging at the sparse sheets to cover the gooseflesh that rose to bare, cold skin. 

When Hera returned with one of the kits emergency bacta packets, she caught Ahsoka in the process of fighting to sit up and get out of bed.

“Nuh-uh, no way, return to sender, Ma’am. Lay back in that bed or so help me,” She fussed, hurrying back to the bunk to offer the woman aid in getting back down. 

“Hera, really, I’m fine.” 

“I’ve made the executive decision a long time ago that Jedu can’t be trusted to determine their own wellbeing, so I have decided; you are wrong.”

A small, defeated smiled at Ahsoka’s lips as the other woman returned to perch at the edge of the cot once more. 

“You’ve got me there.”

“I know, dear. Hands please.” Ahsoka offered a quiet, dramatic sigh as she settled her hands in Hera’s waiting ones, nose crinkling at the pain of moving her burned hand, wincing at the cool feeling of bacta being spread across the warm, raised skin and the careful wrap of bandages to stop any from being wiped away.

“Let me give you a hand getting dressed?” Hera questioned when all was said and done, fingers nervously smoothing across the uninjured skin of Ahsoka’s pinkie, the pad of her thumb smoothing across the woman’s chipped nails. 

“You already got me undressed,” Ahsoka teased gently, turning her good hand around to brush her fingertips against the General’s knuckles.

“So, you want me to leave you naked?”

“Well…” Ahsoka’s lips pulled into a mischievous smile, albeit weighed down by exhaustion, lopsided as she shifted in the bed. 

“Nope, you were literally drowning less than thirty minutes ago.” Hera argued, rising once more and crossing the ship without allowing the woman a chance to retort. Chasing the memory of the compartment that she knew Ahsoka often kept Hera’s spare sleep clothes. 

Getting Ahsoka to sit back up long enough to work the sleeveless shirt around her shoulders had been easy, comfortable even, as the Togruta’s forehead rested into the softness of her stomach, hands resting on the backs of her knees as Hera worked the ties at the back closed, fingers brushing soothingly down the soft, leathery feeling of her back lek, feeling the older woman’s breathing begin to even out under her gentle ministrations.

“Got to get pants on, hirani,” Hera whispered, pressing her lips to the tip of Ahsoka’s left montral where it tickled the side of her lek. “Then, you can get some much needed rest, and we can figure out where to go next.”

At the promise of sleep, Ahsoka managed to lean herself back from the comfort of Hera’s abdomen, offering a groggy, not-so-helpful amount of aid in sliding the loose pants up her legs.

Ahsoka was already lost to the calm embrace of sleep, only conscious because of the gentle tug at her waistband of the little movements of Hera’s fretting, but eventually, the Twi’lek managed to tuck Ahsoka into the threadbare blankets, the Togruta’s breath fanning over Hera’s lips when the woman brushed against her to offer a gentle kiss, easing her into the calm plunge of slumber at last. 

Twi'leki Translations: Jedu - Jedi Kaa'lia - Love Hirani - Beautiful

#whumptober 2023 #no.14 #water inhalation #“Just hold on” #star wars #ahsoka series #fanfiction #drowning tw #burns tw #injury tw #near death tw #herasoka #lightpilot #hera syndulla #ahsoka tano #hera x ahsoka #ahsoka

[imarvelatthestars]

marked me like a bloodstain

Pairings: Clone Trooper Sister x Lunae Minx; Riyo Chuchi x Lunae Minx

Content: infidelity/unethical non-monogamy, angst, references to sexual activity - kissing, making out, oral, semi-public, non-explicit sex

i. ii. iii. (this is part 1 of a 3-part series, the rest will be posted during the event)

a friend to all is a friend to none

chase two girls, lose the one

when you are young, they assume you know nothing

but i knew you

It’ll be seared into her memory forever. The flashing lights, the handsome troopers, the smell of liquor and sweat and just a hint of sex. This is the night it starts, whatever it is. She wanders the bar with a drink in hand, her friends dancing lewdly with a pair of clones, and she wonders just what it is she’s feeling so strongly because she’s never felt something like this before, she doesn’t even know what it is.

Then the music flares up, and some trooper accidentally knocks her elbow and spills half her drink down her dress, and she tilts her head back to glare at him, maybe give him a piece of her mind for ruining her outfit and wasting her credits. Only he’s not a he. She’s a clone, alright, all tall and muscular beneath her pink and blue striped plastoid. She’s got the same thick, curly hair and the same nut-brown skin, the same eyes, same everything as the rest except she’s somehow different. Not exactly softer, but not quite so harsh around the edges as the others.

And she just knows. It’s an understanding that goes bone deep and curls around the very atoms that make up her composition.

“Did I bump you?” the clone calls over the music.

Lunae shakes her head dumbly, unable to look away from the most unexpectedly beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

Their first kiss is one of fingertips on skin in a 79’s fresher as the liquor is wiped away and Lunae’s dress is patted dry. She can’t help wishing it were a real one instead.

“I’m sorry about that,” the clone says. Her head stays ducked as she goes about her business of cleaning up. Shy, maybe? Do clones even get shy? Or is she just embarrassed?

“I appreciate the quick clean up, trooper.”

“Sister. My name,” she adds once she notices Lunae’s confused expression. “What’s yours?

A dusty lavender hand hidden behind an ivory mock-satin glove is extended, palm down. “Lunae Minx.”

Their second kiss is the press of a mouth upon fabric, the sort of kiss that lingers every step of the way and sparks fire that licks up the back of your spine until you’re a shuddering mess. Sister glances up at her through her lashes and smiles just enough to dimple one of her cheeks, and Lunae knows with the entirety of her heart that she’s already in love.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lunae Minx,” she drawls in that ridiculously attractive clone accent. “Can I get you a new drink?”

They both drink far too much in far too short a time, but then time is measured differently during war. Soldiers are shipped off at a moment’s notice and never heard from again. Planets fall from the sky and stars burn out, and such is the price of bloodshed on the battlefields. Love is expedited whenever possible, but for the freckled twi’lek and the pretty clone tucked into a storage unit in the back half of 79’s, that’s alright.

Lunae doesn’t like to waste time if she already knows what she wants. That’s why she pulls Sister to a more secluded area of the park once she arrives – there’s no point in acting coy when they could both just have what they want.

The kisses stopped being counted ages ago when the number rose too high for a drunk to keep track of.

“Wanna show you something,” she gasps once she has Sister against the wall and a hand in her hair.

Those nut-brown eyes go soft beneath gently furrowed eyebrows.  “What’s that?”

All the stories say it originated with the twi’leks thousands of years ago. It spread across the galaxy through time and marriage and the sharing of techniques from one star pilot to another until now, any sentient species with the right anatomy does it.

“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”

The right quirk of the tongue along the roof of the mouth and a slight nip of the teeth on the lip is what the galaxy knows as the Ryloth kiss, exoticized and romanticized and normalized for a wider audience to enjoy. But to experience one with a twi’lek is special, to let the sharp points of her canines tease at your flesh and toy with the idea of tearing into it is to know a pleasure few can truly enjoy. Lunae decides that she really likes teaching Sister about it, especially when the fiery soldier of the Republic goes limp in the knees and her eyes roll back.

She teaches her many more pleasure traditions from her planet, and Sister loves them all.

Love is a pretty thing. How strange to think that she spent so many years feeling alone on the most populated planet in the galaxy, searching for herself in every handsome girl and pretty boy she could get her hands on. She lost her innocence a long time ago, lost most of her inhibitions along the way, and all it left her was cold at night. But then she met Sister, and she knew what it was like to be loved for the first time.

Because that’s what it is. Sister loves her unashamedly and without reservation. Sister dotes on her whenever she can. Sister never fucks her like she’s just some pleasure companion. Sister fucks her like she’s worshipping her, a hand on her throat, curled around her lekku, cupped between her thighs, pressing kisses anywhere she can reach. Sister gives her a keldabe every time they come together and every time they come apart.

So why does she find herself looking elsewhere?

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to trust someone, she tells herself. I’m afraid of getting hurt, she rationalizes. I know I’m not good enough for her. But in the end, all she’s really doing is setting her own destiny into motion.

She meets Riyo in the same park where she taught Sister the Ryloth kiss. Their meeting is nowhere near as explosive as the one she shared with her lover, but its heat simmers low in her belly for weeks after. Where Sister is talkative, Riyo is quiet and reserved. Where Sister is tall and strong, Riyo is small and slight. Her skin is almost periwinkle, her eyes bright and golden, and her hair is like the sunsets back on Ryloth. All pink and blue. Riyo likes her freckles.

And Lunae falls in love all over again.

meet me at the plaza, 2100 – xo

Riyo arrives at 2102 with a frazzled smile and tired eyes. She’s a senator, apparently, but Lunae’s never cared much about politics or the people involved in them. Even so, being a senator means that they have to be more discreet than they might if, perhaps, a clone was involved instead.

A grungy bar in a downtown district serves them shitty beer and keeps the lights low enough to avoid recognition. The anonymity allows her to crowd Riyo into her barstool and kiss her until she’s breathless and gasping, squirming wordlessly in her seat. It’s strange to see her confidence falter here when she’s usually so certain of herself, so proud of who she is and what she does.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?”

“I was that bad?”

Lunae smirks and shakes her head. “No, baby, you were good. I just know you.”

Their second kiss is a teaching moment, a tender press of tongues to teeth and lips and gums, the wet smack of saliva stringing between their mouths. Riyo’s mouth is so much softer than Sister’s. She kisses Riyo harder.

“Can I touch you?” she asks. She knows what she wants. Why wait?

Periwinkle cheeks flush indigo. “Here?”

She would never. This place isn’t good enough for a girl like Riyo Chuchi. No, there’s only one spot on Coruscant that would be at least decent for something so momentous, and thankfully, Sister’s in the middle of a deployment.

“Here,” she sighs into Riyo’s open and trembling mouth the moment the apartment door hisses open. They fumble together in the dark until the bedroom is found and clothes are lost. “Let me touch you here.”

Touches turn into kisses, and kisses become bruises in places no collar can hide. It’s in the bed where Sister first made her see stars that Lunae presses her mouth between Riyo’s dusky thighs and kisses her there.

It’s in the bed where Lunae first knew what it meant to be loved where she rubs her nose against Riyo’s and smiles.

She finds that she’s no longer afraid of the shadows that used to haunt her, not when Riyo’s present. She’s no longer scared of getting her heart hurt because she knows that Riyo would never hurt her, not even by mistake. She’s not scared of being unworthy anymore because she knows that Riyo’s never loved before, because Sister patched up her open wounds and told her she was enough the way that she was.

In fact, Lunae knows now that she can keep up the charade she’s fabricated. She can have the ego-boost of teaching Riyo how to pleasure a woman and the mind-numbing bliss of Sister’s talents all at once. She can watch the troopers landing at the port and feel her heart swell with pride because her lover’s on one of those ships, and she’ll be home soon, and she can spot the pretty young Pantoran on the news, watch her speak to the senate and feel her heart swell again because her lover’s trying to change the world.

Except the only problem with knowing something is the moment that the other shoe drops and the ground under your feet falls out, and you fall, fall, fall, as you realize that you never knew anything at all.

Too many little things start to add up into the shape of infidelity. Love may be expedited in times like these, but it isn’t blind and Sister isn’t stupid. She waits for Riyo to leave the apartment before entering herself. She doesn’t demand an explanation. She doesn’t scream or cry, but she doesn’t look Lunae in the eyes either. What few belongings she kept there are quickly stuffed into her overturned helmet.

There’s no such thing as a goodbye kiss, not for Lunae. Such things are reserved for holo-dramas and people who equate love with morals.

“Please,” she begs with a hand on the pink and blue cuirass, “let me explain-”

“Don’t. I don’t want it.” Sister’s soft features are twisted into something tormented and fractured, and Lunae knows she’s made a terrible mistake. “But she deserves to know.”

Yes, she does, but Lunae learns another thing about herself that she never knew before – she’s a coward. To tell Riyo the truth would mean being alone again. It would allow the shadows and the doubt and the gut-wrenching knowledge of her own shortcomings to come creeping back in, and she can’t do that, not again, not now that she knows what it’s like to live without them.

Riyo never learns the truth, but what joy she did bring to the tiny corner of Coruscant that Lunae calls home is quickly dampened by the memory of what once was. Sister is everywhere all the time. The apartment had carved out space for her so easily that it’s now fractured in all the places she used to touch. The kaf machine looks ancient and ugly, the living room is dreary and unpersonable, the sex is passive and cold, mindless. And even in Riyo's work, she finds Sister there, lingering like the last kiss she never gave her.

“Where have you gone, love?” Riyo asks in the late nights between senate hearings and Separatist strikes. “Come back to me.”

But there’s nothing to come back for.

but i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

i knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

the smell of smoke would hang around this long

'cause i knew everything when i was young

star wars femslash february 2024

day 17: types of kisses

@starwarssapphicweek

page dividers by @saradika-graphics

#lunae minx #clone trooper sister #clone trooper sister x lunae minx #riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi x lunae minx #swfsf2024 #star wars wlw #sapphic star wars #star wars #when you are young they assume you know nothing

[sunderedazem]

What is Cor’s relationship like with Orgus?

Oh. Oh, its.../gestures at my blog header/ yeah. Yeah. I'm just gonna put some snippets from "Crescent Moon Rising" of them. Oh god they're best duo. Dad and Son. But Jedi. 😭💙

“That was very well-handled, Corrain,” he said, his tone kind even as it was brusque. “And well done with your mission to help the Twi’leks as well. But you must be tired after what you’ve managed to accomplish today - it might be time for some sleep.”

It was an astute observation, but not one that Corrain could honestly say he appreciated, and against his better judgement he made a face, huffing. Orgus’s smile grew by a few teeth, the older man chuckling lightly even as Corrain puffed up in indignation.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Padawan, I can see the bags forming under your eyes,” his master said, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Whippersnappers like you need to go to bed early anyway so you grow tall and strong.”

Corrain’s jaw dropped, but the smile on his teacher’s face was infectious and in spite of the indignant offense he was most certainly taking against the unwarranted commentary, he found himself struggling not to laugh at the teasing.

“Master!” he complained, fighting a smile. “I’m eighteen, I’m no whippersnapper - and I’m fine, I can do more if-”

Orgus shook his head then, silencing his student in midsentence.

“You’ve done enough today, Corrain. More than enough. I’m proud of you.” The crows’ feet at the corners of Orgus’s dark eyes crinkled like fine rice paper, gaze fixed on Corrain’s face. And for the life of him, Corrain couldn’t seem to form the words to respond, his mouth completely dry, shaken by the praise.

Orgus is. So incredibly Dad. He's just. Parent Shaped! And he treats Corrain like an adult, yes, but he's also very liberal with the "good job kiddo" and Corrain is barely 18 and trying so hard to be the best Jedi ever and Orgus just keeps telling him "it's okay. You've done enough, you've done well" 🥺

And another one-

And then he fell off the pallet and promptly landed on his elbow, sending a surge of painful fuzz through his arm and up his shoulder.

“Ow! Karking-”

“Padawan.”

He froze, then looked up with wide eyes to see Orgus gazing down at him, the corner of his mouth twitching even as he tried to look slightly disapproving. Meanwhile, on the holo, Satele waited calmly, watching them both with something like amusement in her gaze. Ah. Right. Frick.

“Uh. Sorry. Good morning?”

Oh, Orgus was definitely holding back a smile, and from the sighing from the Grand Master, it looked like she knew it wholeheartedly. Corrain couldn’t help the heat that rose to his face, carefully untangling himself from the cloak that had been laid over him - was this his master’s? - and rearranging the pallet, which had been knocked askew when he’d fallen off the crates. Finally, Orgus took pity on him, shaking his head with some kind of fond exasperation.

“Good morning, kid. Get your head in order, then head out to talk to Ranna while I finish up with the Council, okay?”

Well, he was probably never going to live that down. T7 whistled cheerily at his side, bumping gently against his knee, burbling in amused Binary. Even the droid was laughing. He sighed.

“Yes master.”

And then Orgus is teasing him! And Satele's just there, already knowing these two are going to be full of Banter and resigning herself to it-

His master gave him a sharp look then, sternness passing across his craggy face like a shadow on a cliff face.

“Thus - I must be careful with you here,” Orgus said firmly. “You’re strong, yes, but you’re also very young, and I’d think you haven’t yet had much experience with the Dark Side as of yet. You’ll have to encounter it at some point, of course, but…Kaleth will be a trial for you. You must contact me immediately if you need help - I refuse to lose another Padawan.”

Corrain’s breath caught at the reminder of his master’s previous loss, and behind Orgus, Ranna and Moorint’s expressions had both visibly softened, understanding drawing them into sympathy. He swallowed hard, then nodded resolutely, meeting the troubled brown gaze head on.

“I will pass this trial, master,” he declared, folding his hands over each other in front of him. “And I will be careful.”

The promise seemed to reassure Orgus significantly, a wry smile deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth.

“You’d better be, or I’ll have you meditating in the Temple for the rest of your time here,” he warned, smiling. “Or worse, I’ll make you mediate Master Braga’s and Master Kaedan’s debates.”

A sudden chill rippled down Corrain’s spine, the wry grin on his master’s face remarkably mischievous - almost foreboding. Somehow, he didn’t think he wanted to know what Master Braga’s and Master Kaedan’s debates looked like - their opposing philosophies were already well-enough known to cause some contention among Jedi. However, the progenitors of those two schools of thought, engaging in debate?

Nope. He’d much rather be scrubbing freshers than dealing with that.

“Master, I thought the Jedi disapproved of cruel and unusual punishments.”

And they are Bantering! Orgus is being a Dad, he wants Corrain to be safe but he also knows Corrain can't be sheltered forever so he's trying to find safe ways to help Cor with the Kaleth Explorations- and then they banter, because Orgus is quippy and it makes Corrain smile and puts him at ease-

"You sit tight and assist the Twi’leks however you can until I return - you should be safe enough there, as long as you are careful when you explore Kaleth. And if you do see Bengal - contact me immediately. Do not engage him. Understand?”

Corrain nodded, dipping his head as Orgus wagged a finger at him reprovingly. The layer of calm weighed gently on his shoulders, like a thick blanket on a cold Alderaanian night, comfortable and cozy. Suddenly, he felt sleepy, exhausted from his two days of watchful caution in Kaleth and the return journey. Was the adrenaline finally starting to die down? Or was it the way the gentle warmth and peace of Tython’s presence and his master’s reassurance seemed to envelop him, lifting away the anxiety that kept him awake?

“I understand, Master - no sibling rivalries with the other Padawan or we’ll both be meditating in the Temple for a millennium,” he yawned, absently poking fun at the man before him- and before what he’d said could register, Orgus chuckled fondly.

“Alright, you little wisecracker, scoot to bed. I can update Ranna and Moorint on the rest of this without you falling asleep on me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Corrain muttered, sending a sulky little huff through the Force along the subtle current-within and grinned sleepily as Orgus rolled his eyes, still smiling.

“Go, Padawan.”

And Orgus using their budding Force Bond to make Corrain sleepy so his Padawan goes the fuck to sleep instead of trying to overextend himself-

Orgus is one of the only Jedi who not only will straight-up tell Corrain that he's done enough, it's okay for him to rest now, but he'll say that and Corrain will actually listen to him. They're similar people but Orgus sees a younger, more innocent version of himself in Corrain and he wants to protect that as much as he can, and Corrain sees a role model in Orgus, a trusted semi-parental figure he can look up to and learn from regardless of how skilled he becomes.

And then, of course...Corrain loses him. 😭😭😭😭

#swtor #swtor oc #corrain #moonrise legacy #jedi knight oc #corrain gealai #fanfic excerpt #orgus din #orgus is jedi dad #but for real though if orgus had lived Scourge wouldn't have been able to manipulate Corrain #the master-padawan bond between them is so incredibly strong. theyre just too alike #Master Kelm might have raised Corrain to adulthood but it's Orgus that really understood him fully

[dhampiravidi]

Please Read Before Interacting! (RULES)

I’m a multimuse account. I play mostly OCs, plus a few canons.

This is a blog for people who are 18+. I write NSFW (smut, violence, alcohol) content on occasion. I’m 23.

Feel free to send me asks even if we aren’t mutuals! Sending questions is a great way to interact before we become mutuals and/or start writing together.

All of my muses have multiple character forms, usually one per verse. Look in their headcanon tag (linked on the muses page).

I no longer tag smut.

Please trim your posts. If not, I might still write with you, just not follow. Long, uncut posts can give me anxiety.

I try to reply within a few days, but please give me a week or so before checking on replies via IMs. I try to match my partner’s length and format, so sometimes I’m just thinking of what to write.

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I frequently use "hon", "bruh", and/or "guy" to refer to people (singular or plural) in a gender-neutral way. LMK if those bother you at all.

If you don’t respond for 2+ months (including updates), I will unfollow. This doesn’t mean I won’t be open to interacting again. If we've been writing for a while & you need a break, just LMK & we can do something else when you're ready.

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Here's a list of FCs I love to see!

Here's a link that leads to all of my D&D muses specifically!

assorted tags: memes // wishlist // muses // ooc content

mobile muse list under the cut:

Jayn: heir to a vast fortune, fighter. Verses: DC Comics, Royal/Regency, Queen of the South, Grishaverse, Western, Suits. generous, creative, faithful, loving, bossy, nosy. FC: Tessa Thompson.

Naela: she just wants adventure and love. Verses: canon GoT/ASoiAF, Rhaegar Lives AU, D&D. optimistic, honest, philosophical, careless, restless. FC: Tristin Mays.

Achilles: the Hellenic/Greek hero from The Iliad (canon). Verses: Mythology, Modern, Call of Duty, D&D, X-Men/Marvel. courageous, confident, quick-tempered, protective, moody. FC: Taylor Kitsch.

Jasmine: a young woman on her own. Verses: Marvel, Shadowhunters/TSC, The Covenant, John Wick/Assassins, D&D, Suits. practical, disciplined, overcritical, perfectionist, grudging. FC: Kat Graham.

Skadi: half-Jotun, half-Asgardian. Verses: Marvel, Call of Duty, D&D. compassionate, inventive, independent, blunt, distrusting. FC: Olga Kurylenko.

Oraia: daughter of Poseidon and Nephthys, nymph. Verses: Marvel, SPN, Urban Fantasy, The Old Guard, Pirates of the Caribbean, Shadowhunters/TSC, D&D. flirtatious, easygoing, sociable, impulsive. FC: Hannah John-Kamen.

Hestia: sweet, badass martial artist. Verses: X-Men/Marvel, Hunger Games. witty, lively, inquisitive, anxious, accepting. FC: Kristin Kreuk.

Rose: John Constantine’s space-time magician of a daughter (canon). Verses: DC Comics, The Mummy/historical, D&D. loyal, intelligent, protective, intuitive, hardworking, manipulative. FC: Antonia Thomas.

Aurelia: a Gryffindor who chose Slytherin. Verse: Harry Potter (Marauders or Golden Trio era). persuasive, amusing, loyal, protective, bossy, jealous. FC: Precious Lee.

Rela: Twi’lek Jedi. Verses: Star Wars, D&D. modest, curious, compassionate, eloquent, indecisive, responsible. FC: Rachi Sitra (or Gugu Mbatha-Raw depending on verse).

Zehara: the daughter of a Water Tribe father and a Fire Nation Colony mother. persuasive, adventurous, adaptable, compulsive, patronizing. Verses: Avatar: TLA, D&D. FC: Jhené Aiko.

Eugenia: Bonnie Bennett’s second cousin. Verses: Vampire Diaries. loyal, determined, practical, vengeful, secretive. FC: Kylie Bunbury.

Shayera: she's got wings & a mace. Verses: Superhero/DC Comics, Historical/A Past Life, Empress of Thanagar, Green Lantern Shayera. brave, loyal, adventurous, determined, compassionate, self-critical. FCs: Juliana Harkavy & Freema Agyeman.

Mu Lan [穆岚]: "my duty is to my heart." Verses: Regency. restless, loyal, intelligent, outspoken, kind. FC: Thaddea Graham (& Ming-Na Wen when she's older).

Monet: supermodel, superheroine, super badass. proud, flirty, blunt, dedicated, defensive. FC: Cindy Bruna.

on request, I can play:

Fantomex (canon; X-Men)

Renée Michele LeBeau (OC daughter of Gambit; X-Men)

Rhea Livia Agresta (OC niece of Alan Deaton; Teen Wolf)

Lady Gotham (personification of Gotham City; DC Comics)

#pinned post #admin

[rentfreeinmyskull]

got bored and wrote out Nuri and Leiko's first encounter.

_________________________________________________________

Nuri stumbled back, just barely dodging the orange swipe of the Sith’s blade. She heard a deep groan from further into the ship - the systems were failing. It would be only a matter of time before it plummeted to the surface of the forest moon.

The Sith seemed to realize this too, pausing mid-attack, his eyes shooting over to his sister. She and Master Shan seemed equally paired in combat, the both of them trying and failing to get through the other’s defenses.

Nuri swallowed, her lightsaber heavy in her hand as she measured the Sith in front of her. They had been fighting since the corridor and he seemed barely out of breath. She could sense his emotions - guilt mixed with focus, mixed with anger. His eyes burned amber.

With a sharp inhale, she lunged and immediately recognized her mistake. The Sith dodged with ease. His hand came down and grabbed her lightsaber arm, twisting it beyond its capabilities. She screamed, fiery pain bursting through her arm. Her lightsaber fell to the ground and deactivated.

The Sith’s shadow loomed above her and she looked up, eyes sparking with tears. Remorse flowed over Nuri, gentle as a wave.

He lunged forward, blade raised. Time slowed. A shock ran through Nuri’s uninjured arm, as if she’d grabbed onto an electric wire. The sharpness ran up from her shoulder and lifted up her hand, barring- No. It was outstretched, as if in offering.

Then a warmth flooded her. She saw flashes of things and people she’d never seen before. An older Twi’lek woman at the end of a dimly lit hall, her eyes filling with tears as she turned her back. A feeling of something irreversibly lost. A red dawn over a red planet. The whir of an orange blade. A scream. Two young children, huddling together as a thunderstorm raged outside their bedroom. A bandage falling away and a younger version of the Sith, gazing at himself in the mirror as he took in the two scars running horizontally across his chest, his face lighting up with something beyond joy. And the face of his sister, then a young girl, covered in blood and shaking as her twin pulled her into a hug.

‘I will protect you.’

As quickly as they came, the visions stopped. Nuri blinked, shaken by the feeling of having lost something while gaining something new, something that fit better in her heart.

Above her, the Sith looked just as shocked, his lightsaber now deactivated and on the ground next to hers. Understanding briefly flitted on his face and he opened his mouth to say something, before a scream ran through the air and the two of them turned sharply to see Master Shan whirring her blade through the air and straight through the other Sith’s arm. It fell to the ground with a thump. The woman screamed again, staring at the smoking stump below her elbow.

‘RIN!’ The Sith beside Nuri howled. His face was twisted up with fury, but she felt none of it.

Nuri was too in shock to move, eliciting only a small groan as the Sith rushed at her Master. Master Shan dodged quickly and retreated away from her victim, face calm. The Sith scooped up his injured twin, his lightsaber flying past Nuri as he pulled it towards him.

Master Shan just watched him, eyes steady. She knew the battle was won. The ship groaned, louder this time. Nuri retrieved her lightsaber and rose, wincing as pain burned through her arm again.

Just as the twins stumbled over to the corridor, Nuri and the Sith’s eyes met. His were blue now, like the sky in the summer on Naboo. She felt a tug in her chest.

Then he and his sister were gone.

#txt #oc: leiko #oc: nuri #otp: the little flower and the light #t4t couples do it better

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Drapetomania

Armitage Hux x F!Reader

A/N: It’s been a few weeks since I posted anything and I’m hoping I can get more content out over the summer before my degree picks up again. Thanks @acrossthesestars for reading this chapter through ages ago 😅

Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Warnings: feelings, but if a filler chapter, mention of alcohol. Fic is NSFW 18+

Word Count: 2160

Tagging: @lemongingerart @princessxkenobi @strangunddurm

The proximity warnings started as you dropped out of the rushing lights of hyperspace, your eyes taking in the sprawling web-like patterns of Coruscant. It was beautiful, the deep purples punctuated with fine lines of gold that covered the surface. It reminded you of the maze on the Hux estate, where you and Armitage had got lost plenty of times, where you had spent your time exploring each other’s bodies in secret, where you’d both hidden from Brendol and his rage.

Your memories were interrupted by the demand for your landing codes and you rattled off the number that was in the information of your booking. Following the instructions you were given, you guided the ship towards a landing beacon through the atmosphere of Coruscant.

You hadn’t ventured here before and just hearing the stories of the core worlds had set your imagination alight. Buildings rose up tall like daggers and a steady stream of speeder traffic rippled below you, bright lights creating a rainbow effect that blurred as you traveled by and you wished you had more time to explore. Bringing the craft in to land, you tried not to think about what you were about to do. How every step took you closer to that moment you’d dreamed of was a step away from everything you currently knew.

You were checked in by a bored looking twi’lek, her blue and white Republic uniform pressed and perfect as she attached the band to your wrist and made sure it scanned. You tried not to look at the colours too closely because it just reminded you of Poe and you didn’t need those feelings, not now.

“The Halcyon 2 will leave in a couple of days, you can either board now or sightsee in Coruscant. Miss?” You glanced at her, you had been searching the crowd for a shock of ginger hair, which was stupid really.

“Oh, er. I think I’ll just board now, thanks.” Maybe he was already on board? Maybe he was still travelling to you. Maybe this whole thing was a joke.

“Put your band on the scanner and it will grant you access to the docking terminal. A shuttle will take you up to the ship. Enjoy your journey amongst the stars,” she finished in a dry sing-song tone and you wondered how many times a day she had to say that as the gate slid open to admit you.

It was busier here, luggage was being taken by droids and you felt silly handing over a single bag for a whole month trip. The area was huge. A transparisteel dome covered the space, protecting it from the elements. White seats with plush cushions lined most of the floor space and you spied a family of Wookiees taking up one whole bench for themselves. Strange plants added to an attempted natural aesthetic and vents were placed in the ceiling to keep the air circulated and warm, but your gaze was drawn to the dark sky above. You now stood high over Coruscant and found yourself drifting to peer out of the huge plane of transparisteel.

This planet was always so busy, being a highly populated core planet and once the seat of the Jedi and Empire. People were drawn here for jobs, sightseeing, scandal and crime. It all happened on Coruscant.

Walking back over to the line, a droid scanned your band and assured you the single bag of luggage you had would be sent to the appropriate room. You kept a small satchel holding your datapad and a few protein pouches that you’d stolen from the x-wing with you. Following the line of people toward the docking shuttle, you tried not to look around for a shock of red. There was an eclectic collection of species here, their native speech patterns rolling over you. Some you recognised and could understand, others you didn’t. But it was the humans you were interested in, trying not to stare too hard at each new face.

The shuttle ride was quick, which was a relief as it was packed, bodies all pressed together in an effort to get as many people on board as possible. You had hoped getting here a few days early meant it wouldn’t be this busy and you could watch people boarding in the vain hope that you’d see him before he saw you. Because when you did see him you wanted a moment to decide what you were going to do. Or had you made that decision already?

The contents of your shuttle spilled out onto the flight deck and you waited as everyone had their bands scanned and sent in the appropriate directions. The droid scanned yours but a red light flashed instead of green prompting it to scan again.

“You have been upgraded,” it stated when the light turned green.

“Upgraded? Explain?”

“Your standard room has been upgraded to a suite. Please head in this direction.” The droid moved aside and you went to join the smaller crowd at the other end of the atrium, confused as to why your room had changed. Your group was led to a set of stairs that went to an upper level, where all the larger rooms for the higher paying guests were situated. Which apparently you were now. Your band opened the door and you stepped inside.

“Hello, I am Andan,” a voice started behind you. “I am your hospitality liaison. Please use the com should you wish for anything to be brought to your room. Feel free to explore the ship at your convenience. Can I get you anything?” You looked at the young man, his brown eyes watching you curiously as you tried to think of something to say. He was young, with a shock of dark hair, hands clasped politely behind his back and a slightly boyish face.

“No, but thank you.”

He offered you an easy smile before the door shut and he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck…” You placed your bag on the table. The suite was white with black accents. Glow panels lit up the room, but it was the viewport that took your breath away. Stars dotted the velvety dark of space and below you could see the sprawling lights of Coruscant.

The suite had a small eating area that merged with a comfy seating area. A large screen was set into the panels of the wall and you felt a thrill at being able to watch your favourite HoloNet channels without a dodgy signal that needed to be pinged all over the Galaxy to hide its destination.

You walked past the large curved white and black sofa to a door that opened to reveal more hidden cupboards and drawers set into the walls. Another screen next to the door faced a large bed, done up in black sheets. A small door led to a refresher that had you nearly groaning in joy.

You didn’t have to shower in a durasteel tub anymore with cold water and scratchy soap. In front of you was a state of the art bathtub with fancy soaps and scents lining the edge, a shower that was controlled by a touchscreen, and a heated floor that you could feel through your boots.

Instantly you stripped, programming the bath to fill with hot water and bubbles. Your skin protested at first, but you forced yourself to sink down in the hot water and immediately it felt like everything was washed away. You lost count of how long you were in there, washing your hair and body, popping bubbles and splashing in the soapy water. Looking around you frowned, wishing you’d got a towel first. Wringing your hair out, you stood and a panel opened, a rack with towels dropping down in front of you.

Reaching for two towels, you sighed at the warmth of the fluffy material wrapping your body and hair watching as the rack retreated back into the wall. Your toes curled at the sensation of heat from the floor and you couldn’t resist laying down for a moment. The tiles were white and smooth and your fingers traced the almost invisible lines as you let the heat seep into your skin.

Eventually you moved, picking up your dirty clothes and dumping them on the edge of the bed. You went round and opened the drawers only to find them filled with clothes. Slipping on some fresh underwear, you were surprised to see everything was your size. You opened what you thought was the wardrobe but it was in fact a dressing room. The walls were lined with clothes of every colour and fashion you could think of. One space was taken up by a tall rack of shoes and when you tugged on it, the shelves rotated so the shoes you couldn’t reach came down to your level.

“This is fucking insane,” you whispered.

Finding some black leggings and a comfy jumper, you went back out into the living area, noticing for the first time a datapad that you could control the whole suite from, as well as order food and drink and anything else you needed.

It wasn’t until you sat down that you remembered why you were really here. Was Armitage not coming and that’s why your room had been upgraded? As some sort of apology? You doubted it. But you were still waiting for someone to barge in and demand you leave as there had been a mix up. No matter how often you glanced at the door, no one was knocking.

You ordered some food and a bottle of Coruscanti gin, which arrived quickly via a droid who asked politely if you needed anything else before walking away. You glanced up and down the empty corridor, you could hear the noise from the atrium as people still gathered, but you had no desire to go down there just yet.

Sitting with your food and drink, you switched on the massive screen and settled down to watch your favourite programme in colour, with sound that didn’t make them seem like they were underwater. You were going to enjoy being alone for a bit before the nervousness of seeing Armitage really crept up on you.

You didn’t even feel the shudder of the 20 engines starting on the MPO-1600 Purrgil-class star cruiser. Only the announcement that came calmly through your screen told you the ship was finally embarking on its voyage. You had started up your datapad from the Resistance and messages had been steadily coming in from Poe. You weren’t interested in those. They hurt you to look at.

Chewing your lip, the nerves really settled in now. You watched Coruscant slowly grow smaller and you knew you should leave your room and search for the reason you were here. The idea that Hux was on this ship had your mind racing and your pulse throbbing with excitement.

You were dressed in leggings and a pair of mid calf black boots. A light green top made of silk was fitted to your upper body, the sleeves tapering to a point where they hooked over your middle finger. The lower part of the top split from your hips and flowed with each step as you slowly made your way down the steps to the atrium. Your eyes swept the floor space over most of the crowd, which were standing by the massive viewports watching the planet fall away. You headed to the bar, perching on a stool and letting the droid scan your band before asking what you wished to drink. You asked for a gin and droid asked if you wanted an infusion of Pyussh berries to which you agreed. It gave the clear liquid a deep purple look and a sweet aftertaste that you actually found appealing.

Leaning back on the bar, legs crossed and elbows resting easily, you found yourself zoning out to the creatures all around you. They all looked and sounded so excited, happy. Younglings raced around. Human children mixed with Twi’leks, Rodians, Duros, even the small Wookiee.

Is this what life was like outside of the Resistance? All joy and living?

Taking a sip of your drink, your gaze tracked over the crowd and you tried not to let your thoughts sink into the swirling pit that Armitage had never made it on board. If you didn’t see him this week, you contemplated disembarking at the first planet the ship docked at. Maybe you could make your own way back out in the Galaxy, away from the Resistance and away from your memories. Your foot jigged impatiently and you asked for another drink from the droid, watching it in the mirror as it expertly mixed and poured the purple liquid into a clean glass. You lifted the glass, glancing up to see yourself reflected back at you behind the bar, only to freeze mid motion as yours locked with a familiar gaze.

#drapetomania #armitage hux x f!reader #armitage hux x reader #Armitage hux x you #Star Wars #star wars fanficiton #star wars fanfic #armitage hux fanfic #armitage hux fan fiction #armitage hux #general hux

[swanofcoruscant]

Thinking about TR’s lekku curling and twisting themselves together when Theron compliments her or kisses her

#Rose #Twi’lek Rose #TR #SWTOR #Star Wars: The Old Republic #Twi’lek

[ke-119]

FALLOUT - Chapter 11

Chapters Posted: 11 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Summary: Still reeling in the aftermath of Crait, Poe Dameron and Finn are sent to a secret Resistance base tucked away on Lothal to serve as acting generals. Their numbers dwindled to barely a handful, and with General Organa’s order grounding all surviving Resistance personnel to heal and regroup, morale is at an all time low. Poe grapples with his inability to sit still; the First Order looms, an ever-encroaching threat to what remains of the Outer Rim’s free space; intimate feelings grow impossible to ignore and a shocking return promises devastating consequences not only for those stationed on Lothal, but for the Resistance and galaxy at large. 

A/N: An AU adventure, a side-quest of sorts, to account for some of the time between TLJ and ROS. Stormpilot centric. Canon up until the end of TLJ (but does not take into account Resistance Reborn or the Finn/Rose arc).

Masterlist

CHAPTER 11

There was no gradual return to wakefulness. 

Karé was nowhere, suspended in cold, all consuming oblivion, and then she was very suddenly awake. Dry and gnarled trees snapped into focus above her. Urgent, pulsing pain in her left leg, her head, her neck. Flat on her back against cold, hard ground. 

The sky above was a rich gridelin, streaked through with wispy red clouds. Was it night? Dawn? A soft bump, bump, bump against her right ankle. She lifted her head with difficulty and saw BB-8, rolling backwards and forwards into her leg in an attempt to rouse her. His durasteel exterior was singed black on one side, but he seemed to be functioning fine.

“I’m up, Beebee-Ate. I’m up. You okay?”

BB-8 meeped uncertainly. 

An odd sound had filled her ears; harsh, ragged whooshes of air. She realized, belatedly, that it was her own breathing. 

A face appeared above her, blotting out the sky and the scraggy trees. Strange, yellow eyes deep set in a wrinkled, cyan face peered down at her, two lekku swinging against broad shoulders. The Twi’Lek bent in closer.

Karé’s ragged breathing sharpened, her hand fumbled to where her blaster should have been strapped to her thigh. 

It was gone. 

The pain in her leg was everywhere now, traveling through her foot, up her side, burrowing deep into her hip. She could not escape it. A distant ringing muffled BB-8’s warbling and white swept into the edges of her vision— 

A swell of warmth and calm spread outward from her chest in one great ripple, through her arms to her fingertips, mercifully dulling the pain in her leg, and out to the tips of her toes. The adrenaline punch subsided; the world cleared. 

The Twi’Lek offered his hand, and in a soft, accented baritone asked, “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” 

He pulled her to her feet, and when he seemed satisfied she wouldn’t keel over, took two steps back, giving her space to assess herself. 

Nothing broken, as far as she could tell. She spun in a slow circle, taking in the barren surroundings. Behind the Twi’Lek, the pod was still smoking, its bulbous helm embedded in the dirt. It had crushed several parched trees on its way down, carving out a ditch in the desert floor. The dust had not yet fully dissipated. She must not have been out long. 

If the Twi’Lek meant her harm, he really was drawing it out. Maybe he had just been waiting for her to wake up. No fun killing someone already half-dead… Who knows what psychos living in the desert do for fun? 

BB-8 rolled up to the Twi-Lek and bleeped up at him once. He crouched down in front of him. 

“Well, hello. You look quite different than I remember.” He turned to Karé. “Is it just you and your astromech?” He strangely seemed to have expected more.

Karé struggled to grasp the slivers of moments just before the crash. Most dissipated as soon as she tried to pin one down long enough for it to make sense. The pod had held up as they made their jump… Poe and Finn… Lost control of the G-9. An explosion of light. Iolo flinging his hand out, activating her seat eject. Then nothing. 

The Twi’Lek momentarily forgotten, she lurched toward the pod. BB-8 raced after her. A hole gaped where the stabilizer fin and back engine had been torn away. 

“Iolo!” 

The familiar figure was slumped over the flight-stick in the pilot seat.

“Iolo?” The frantic beat of her heart jumped into her throat as she slid her hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to her. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs across the skin under his eyes. Still warm. Still breathing. She forced herself to slow her own.

A strand of hair flopped down over his eyes and joined the mess that was matted to a nasty gash in his forehead. Blood oozed in a lazy line down to his right eyebrow. Finally, his eyes opened. 

“So much for… sticking the landing.”. 

Karé puffed a heavy sigh, sinking down against the flight console behind her. The Twi’Lek had entered the ship as well, and hung back in the shadow created by a mangled piece of ceiling. His long, tawny robes looked so out of  place, yet so familiar at the same time. Echoes of her childhood bedtime stories swirled in her mind. The stories of mysterious Force-strong beings who could manipulate people and surroundings with their thoughts. It wasn’t possible. 

Karé watched Iolo gingerly unclip the four point harness. His right hand was burnt, the skin shiny and red. 

“Where did we end up? Hey—!”

Iolo registered the Twi’Lek before Karé could warn him. His hand went to his blaster as he whipped around to face the stranger. 

“Iolo, wait!”

The blaster rocketed across the ship, knocked free by an invisible momentum. Karé gasped. 

The Twi’Lek emerged from the shadows, both hands up. “I am not here to hurt you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Iolo backed up to shield Karé with his body. She stepped out from behind him. 

“I am Ira Nyx. I saw your ships go down.”

“You just happened to be out here at that exact moment?”

“I live here.”

“Iolo…” Karé began. 

He silenced her with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes off of Ira. “You live here, huh?”

Before Ira could answer, Karé cut in. “Hang on. Did you say ships?”

Ira nodded. “I watched two ships crash. The second not too far from here.”

BB-8 gave a happy chirp, lights blinking in a frenzy. Karé felt a small twinge of hope, and with it newfound urgency to get to Poe and Finn. Their ship had been in much worse shape than the pod to start and there was no telling how it had fared in a crash. The throbbing in her leg returned insistently. 

“We must tend to your injuries first,” Ira said, as if reading her mind.

 Iolo’s next words stopped hers in her throat. “You survived Order 66.” 

Youthful and eager, Iolo could be somewhat idealistic, but he was quick and wicked smart. He was also, apparently, a war history enthusiast. Order 66 happened long before either of them were born. Most of their generation knew of the Jedi from bedtime stories, not that they had actually existed, and were eradicated by the Empire decades ago. A look of immense sadness filled the Twi’Lek’s face, fleeting, but so tangible Karé’s throat and eyes pricked with it, too. 

“I would like to help you.” Ira was quiet when he spoke again. 

Iolo’s shoulders drooped a fraction, though whether it was apprehension receding or his adrenaline deserting him, Karé couldn’t tell. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” His voice was breathless. “That was decades ago. You’ve been here since then?”

“Yes. I knew this day would come.” 

Karé and Iolo waited. BB-8 burbled. Ira offered no further explanation. Instead, he continued, “Your ship is wrecked and you need medical attention. Let me help you. Once you are well, I will lead you to your friends.”

Iolo opened his mouth to protest, but the words trailed off as he swayed. Karé grabbed a fistful of his flight suit and propped him up as best she could. As far as she could see, this was their only option. They wouldn’t do Poe and Finn much good if they couldn’t make it to them. 

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Finn knew what was coming, and, no, he wasn’t. He stared at his right arm, limp in his lap. A hands-length longer than his left, it hung like the busted tubes dangling from the ceiling of their wrecked craft, detached and alien. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated a shoulder. Or the second. 

Mental conditioning as a stormtrooper cut out the middleman between “jump” and “how high?”—stormtroopers just jumped. The physical conditioning was to make sure they survived the jump. In reality, it was hours of training off the battlefield, where they killed each other at the same rate they died in actual combat. 

He was fifteen the first time, and it was his left. His days were spent corralled from training rooms to combat simulations, like herding bantha to slaughter. It was their third exercise of the day; hand to hand combat. Down and dirty. Finn learned quickly the name of the game wasn’t winning, just surviving. The gargantuan trooper he was paired with didn’t even have to try. He grabbed Finn’s forearm with bone-crushing force as he weaved out of the way, and yanked. It left the socket with a sinuous pop and he blacked out. 

The next thing he remembered were two troopers pulling him from the mass into a galley off the main corridor as they were herded to their next training. One took off Finn’s helmet and clamped a hand over his mouth. The other grabbed his useless left arm and tugged. Barbaric, but with practiced precision. His shoulder slid back into place. 

“There. Now you’ll survive the rest of the day. Hopefully.” Then they had shoved his helmet back on his head and pushed him back into the group filtering down the corridor. 

“Finn?” Poe’s voice brought him back. 

“Yeah,” he grunted and urged his muscles to shed any tension. It would only hurt more. 

Poe, crouched in front of him, gave him an incredibly charming, “Here goes nothing” look and braced the palm of his hand against Finn’s armpit. He slid his other hand around Finn’s wrist, and using the wall behind Finn’s back as counter-pressure, yanked. Finn bit back a yell, but was relieved to feel the shoulder slide back into its socket with a snick. 

“Damn. It worked.” Poe grinned. 

Most of the lights in the downed G-9 were dead, with the exception of the few that hung down in a tangled mass of wires in places where the ceiling was crushed in. The strange glow underlined the bruises and smattering of bloody gashes along Poe’s hairline and cheekbones. Most of his injuries looked like they came from the shattered transparisteel on the pilot’s side. The co-pilot’s window had held, but the impact with the earth had contorted the metal, pinning Finn’s right shoulder to the seat with it. 

They were nowhere near the capital city, let alone any settlement or outposts. Finn had briefly exited the ship to search the landscape. The ship had come to rest under a thick patch of the skeletal trees that dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see as well as a cluster of the jagged rocks that jutted out of the cracked soil. It went for miles in every direction he turned, meeting the sky in a continuous loop, until he got dizzy squinting to see where it ended. 

The cluster of trees and rock the G-9 was jammed into offered some protection, if only concealing them from overhead visibility. But it was freezing. The cold seeped steadily into the cramped shuttle, chilling the durasteel all around them. 

Poe came out of his crouched position and sat back, stilling himself. 

He was in pain, Finn realized. 

The outer physical signs weren’t there, but Finn knew it. Somehow. 

His own shoulder had dulled to barely an ache; it definitely wasn’t his pain he was feeling anymore.

“Think you can get the comms up and running?” Poe asked him, voice tight. “I’ll take the engine.” He brought one knee up to stand, then stopped. The lines in his brow deepened. 

“Poe? Hang on.” Finn pushed him back down. “Let me make sure you’re not injured first.” 

“I’m fine.” Poe gave him a lopsided grin, but didn’t try to get up again. Finn reached up to pull one of the blinking lights closer. Finn guided his palms over Poe’s extremities, checking for blood after each one. A hush fell over the two of them as he searched, the only sound the frigid whistling and the increasingly clipped in and out of Poe’s breath. Finn felt more than saw that Poe was favoring his left side, even as he sat. His hands hovered over Poe’s chest for a moment. 

Poe nodded, perhaps as much for himself as for Finn’s sake. “It’s okay.”

Finn peeled back the left side of Poe’s jacket and it stuck to his hip and side. Dread laced its way around Finn’s gut. It was blood. The shirt went up next, soaked through and tacky. There was a significant gash in the skin of Poe’s left side, it wound its way around his ribs down to his hip. Finn was frozen in place, heart hammering. 

“That’s way worse than I thought it was.” Poe’s words caught in his throat. “Okay. Minor setback.” Hand shaking, he gestured to a panel above Finn’s head. “Check in there for a medpac.” 

“That’s going to take more than a bacta patch.” Finn found himself saying. Clamping down on the panic climbing up his throat, he forced himself to stand. His fingers padded along the edge of the tarnished panels until he found the pressure opening and pressed. The panel popped open. Sure enough, a tiny medpac was tucked in next to a few rolls of gauze. He scooped them up and dropped them on the floor next to Poe. 

The gash was deep. Scary deep. Down to several layers of red tissue and muscle closest to his hip and more superficial around his ribcage. The deeper parts still oozed, albeit in a lazy rhythm. Slow, but not enough to quell Finn’s panic. He didn’t have any medical knowledge. Troopers weren’t entitled to first aid. Anything a bacta patch couldn’t fix—you were as good as dead. 

He picked up a roll of the gauze. It dropped from his numb fingers. He struggled with the zipper on the medpac. Inside were a pair of surgical scissors, some tape, a comically minuscule bacta pack, and some pills. 

“This is just a bump in the road.” Poe’s hand came to rest on his. Finn dropped the medpac altogether and grabbed Poe’s hand. 

He was almost dizzy, overwhelmed by the pain he could feel rolling off Poe in waves. 

“We’ll figure this out. Just help me throw some bandages on so we can get to working on the comms, yeah? Hey.” Poe slid two fingers under Finn’s chin and made him look up. The touch was electrifying, circumstances be damned. Finn’s hand went to Poe’s face, and he leaned into the touch. They sat for a few moments, in silence punctuated only by the icy gusts that whistled through cracked transparisteel and the clipped in and out of Poe’s breaths. 

Then, Poe straightened abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Finn’s heart dropped. This was it: he had overstepped. Misread the moment and crossed the line. “Nothing. I’m so sorry. I was just—”

“No, no, no.” Poe squeezed Finn’s hands in fleeting reassurance. “I mean you did something.” 

The realization dawned on them both at the same time. Poe’s voice was stronger and his breathing had evened out. 

“I—I don’t know,” Finn said. His eyes flicked down to the hand that had been holding Poe’s face, then back up to meet Poe’s gaze. “But you look better.”

“See? Just a bump in the road.” Poe gave him a brilliant grin that made Finn’s legs tremble for completely different reasons. “What do you say we get those comms up and running?”

The bacta pack, predictably, had barely been enough to cover the deepest grooves of the wound, but Poe insisted he felt better. Finn pulled him to his feet and he was steady, so for the time being Finn believed him. They wound the gauze around Poe’s midsection together, hands catching on each other, fumbling then resuming their twisting rhythm. Several times, Finn found himself on the cusp of telling Poe, the words burning on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding. He just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

Once they finished, Poe found the panel that housed the communication equipment, bashed in from the impact. Together, they dislodged it. Wires spilled out, some sparking, others, fried beyond recognition. It was the perfect distraction, and Finn chalked up his momentary bravery to the last dregs of adrenaline. Ill-timed love confessions aside, they had one hell of a job ahead of them.

* * *

The landscape of Garel was varied, but the blasted quadrant they’d crashed in was a cracked, flat expanse that stretched on endlessly, only occasionally dotted with scraggy trees. Garel City was nowhere in sight. You could see for eons. Karé was beginning to doubt her choice to accept help from Ira Nyx. One of his strides took nearly three of hers, and she was half-dragging, half-carrying Iolo at this point. He’d stopped making sense miles back. An overgrown thicket of the skeletal trees sprung up in the distance. Iolo stumbled and nearly sent them crashing into the dust. 

“How much further?” Karé grunted. Her leg was fire, screaming for her to stop. With a glance over her shoulder, she could still see the smoking husk of the pod behind them, now a tiny gray dot in the distance. Ira eclipsed into the thicket. 

“We are here,” his muffled voice floated through the dense brush. 

The branches clawed at her and Iolo, the path now too small for the two of them. Iolo’s knees finally folded under him, dropping them both. Before they hit the earth, Ira reappeared, lifting Iolo off of her. The sudden weightlessness was disorienting, she stumbled after him through the brush. 

The copse opened up into a clearing. In the middle, stood a small dwelling, handmade with a combination of earth and branches and trunks of the Garel trees. A misshapen chimney jutted out of the top. It looked like a giant, lumpy bowl turned upside down. Beside a window carved in the front was a taller opening, where a tattered cloth hung in place of a door. 

A fire blazed inside, and only then did Karé realize she was shivering. Ira lowered Iolo onto a makeshift bed in the far corner, a piece of fabric filled with leaves and twigs. Then he returned to where she was hanging off the door frame. BB-8 hummed inquisitively at her heels. 

“Come. Sit.” Ira took her by the shoulders and lowered her into one of  the chairs at a little table opposite the bed. 

“Why are you helping us?”

“You look like you could use it.”

“But you’ve been hiding for what—forty years? Why now?”

“That time has ended. I have been waiting for you. All of you.”

Karé couldn’t focus through the white-hot burning in her leg and her eyes dropped down to look at it. The world shimmered and tilted as she took in the damage. Her flight suit hung in tatters around her left thigh, the flesh a seared and peeling mess. “That…” She swallowed with difficulty. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Ira’s palm came to rest flat on the worst of her ruined flesh. Before she could recoil, a familiar rush of warmth pooled from under his hand, numbing the agony as it went. Then, slowly, he lifted it again.

The burn was gone.

#poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #stormpilot #stormpilot fic #finnpoe #finnpoe fic #finn x poe #poe dameron x finn #sw fanfic #fn 2187 #the last jedi #leia organa #kare kun #iolo arana #star wars #writing #fanfic #star wars fic #sw sequels #star wars sequel trilogy #light angst #hurt/comfort #au fic #poe dameron angst #poe dameron au #original character

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Sins of the Father - Chapter 33

Summary: Boba goes to exact a little justice; Amara dealing with the after effects.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Amara is awake!! Hopefully, it won’t hinder her too much. 

I would not want to be on Boba’s bad side, especially when it comes to his daughter. Lord help anyone who gets in his way, whether that’s the Pyke syndicate or Din. 

I couldn’t find any details about the customs of twi’leks when it comes to marriages so I just made up some stuff.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter.  

Love oo.

Italics - flashback

Bold - comm 

Warning: Mentions of drug use, blood, red stained teeth (Wookiee attack), threats, anger about recuperation, mentions of engagement, kissing, angst, fluff, mentions of carbonite, unable to sleep, I think that’s it, if I miss any warning please let me know. 

AO3 Link |   Words: 5,552 |   Previous -> Next

Main Master List   |   Sins of the Father Master List

THE RECKONING

Boba stood watching Marg Krim puffing on his own product while he sat on his throne. His armour and that of Djarin’s were sprinkled from head to toe in the blood of Krim’s guards, as disturbing as that image was, the red stained teeth of the Wookiee standing behind them sent a chill down Krim’s spine, tightening his grip on his pipe.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of Daimyo’s Tatooine coming to visit me?” His gesture was open and full of hospitality, but Boba saw his gesture for what it truly was, concern, worry, and apprehension.

“Because of your lack of control over your own people, two of my own were injured. Tell me the name of the one who released that sleemo from your prison” Boba wasn’t mincing words, these words were a declaration. Everyone in the room knew it. 

Din’s hand rested against his blaster, Ara’s amban rifle was strapped to his back, his free hand’s fingers trailed along the edge of the butt of the rifle ready to unleash it at a moment’s notice. 

Krrsantan kept his eyes roving about the room, taking in his next potential victim, he couldn’t help a grin appear on his lips. 

He remembered Amara from when she was a child on Tatooine. The times she would run to Boba as soon as he landed his ship, her arms up in the air waiting for him to pick her up, or the times she spent braiding his own Wookiee hair when he and Boba would sit down and discuss the hunt. He couldn’t stand her at the time, but as she grew older, he respected the person she turned into. He could still remember the sadness and brutality that surrounded Boba when they drifted apart, and despite the fact Krrsantan was under the control of the Hutt twins he still did his best to keep an eye and ear on her whenever he could. Even helped her out on a few occasions, though she never knew it and he’d keep it that way. 

The longer silence filled the room, the more Boba kept his hand trailing along his carbine rifle, shifting his vision to those in the throne room, “You have exactly one minute to bring me the person responsible for harming two of my own. Unless, you are taking responsibility for their injuries yourself, Marg.” Boba’s visor focused on Krim’s eyes, the menace and threats behind that visor were radiating clearly. 

The leader of the Pykes took in a deep puff of his spice, narrowing his own eyes on the Mandalorian. 

‘Djarin’ Boba’s voice came through Din’s helmet, ‘Things could get rough in a minute’ 

‘With you till the end’

‘This is the way’

‘This is the way’

The tension rose in the room, Krrsantan tightened his hand around his rifle, things were about to kick off, this was his favourite part and he couldn’t wait to get a bit of justice for Amara. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Take it slow, Amara, no need to rush” Fennec’s voice echoed through the sparring room as she helped Amara through her stances.

It had been two weeks since she woke up from her weird coma and it was driving her crazy she wasn’t yet back to her full speed. Not just physically, but even mentally, thankfully most of her memory was intact, but for some reason she could only remember certain aspects leading up to the day she fought Leemy Billie. What she could remember were flashes. Images that seemed to tell a story, however they appeared out of sync.

One of the first images she remembers was seeing Crasea bruised and beaten appearing at her door. 

Then sending Adi off with Fennec.

Running into Agui at the cantina. 

There were flashes of the actual fight however the angle was off. 

Getting ready for the fight, however those images always appeared rushed in her mind.

She felt as though there was something she was missing, something important she had forgotten, and no matter how hard she tried to reach for it, it always escaped her grasp. Something about the day Din left, there were major gaps to that day, all she can really remember was seeing him and Adi in the office, then watching the Naboo star fighter lift off from her garage and head out.

Despite the missing memories, there was a feeling, a sensation that rested in her chest that kept telling her she had forgotten the most important moment.  

“Amara, stop!” Fenn shouted as she saw how much Amara was pushing herself to the point of injury. 

It threw her off guard as her mind had drifted, the pain she felt was blinding, “ARGHHHHH!!!” Amara’s scream bounced off the walls, as her legs gave way from the stress she put her body through. Before she could do these kind of movements in her sleep, now … she felt like a helpless baby, unable to perform even the simplest of movements. 

“Hey” Fennec came to her side, placing a hand on her back, “just take a deep breath”

“It’s not fair!”

“I know” her heart broke for her friend, life in this universe was never easy but it always seemed as though Amara received the short end of it, she brushed her hair off her face, hoping that would calm her down and provide her some relief, “But you gotta remember you are doing a lot better compared to the first day you woke up. Every day you’re doing better, not to mention you are just getting back to normal with your fighting. You’re already walking, running, and you’re getting your strength back too. Right?”

“I shouldn’t have to get better. I should …” tears slipped out of her eyes as her fists clenched against the mat. 

“It’s okay. I’m here” Fenn wrapped her arms around the woman who had lost complete composure, she wasn’t the best at offering these kinds of affections but for Boba and Amara she’d try. “Why don’t we go get a drink? Might help?”

Amara simply shook her head, “No. It’s okay” she wiped the tears that had drenched her cheek and pooled on the mat, “I should get home. Got two kids at home probably wrecking all kinds of havoc.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah” she answered as she stood from her position, hoping there was enough strength in her legs to carry her back to the hangar, so she could fly Din’s ship back to the garage. “Haven’t known Grogu for long, but he’s an adorable little mischief-maker.”

“Yeah he is. Alright let me walk you out then” Fennec patted her shoulder, as they headed to the hangar. 

“Amara!” 

She turned towards the voice to see Aola and Crasea, both jogging over to her, Crasea looked completely healed aside from his prosthetic eye, Aola had a smile on her face brimming from one ear to the other. “Fennec, Amara, we wanted you two to be the first to hear.”

“Crasea, Aola” Amara nodded, smirking at the two young lovers who had found each other in her father’s palace. Crasea would always hold a special place in her heart, like her co-rebel fighters, who had bled, sweated, and cried beside her, “I’m glad to see you’re doing a lot better than the last time I saw you, Crasea.”

“Me too. I’m glad to see you up and about. How are you feeling?”

Fennec cleared her throat, no doubt this was a conversation Amara didn’t want to have, “What brings you two lovebirds around here?”

“Oh right!” Aola chuckled, “We’ve decided to become united”

“Congratulations you two!”

“I’m very happy for the both of you” even though the words came out of her mouth, and she was happy for them, for some reason Amara couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness and a twinge of jealousy. Why was she jealous, just because Din and her had gotten closer, it didn’t necessarily mean he was interested and even if she could find the courage to tell him, would he even reciprocate? Although, he and Grogu were practically living with her … ugh! This was not where her mind needed to focus on, “Please make sure to let me know when the joyous day is and I’ll make sure to provide you with a special gift.”

“Thank you Amara” Aola wrapped her arms around Amara pulling her in for a hug, “I was wondering if you could do me the honour of being my older sister for the ceremony” she whispered to Amara.

“Really?” She pulled back to look at Aola, yes they were somewhat close, but not as close as she’d imagine to be standing there with here for her uniting ceremony.

“Yes, is that okay?”

“Absolutely, just make sure to tell me what to do”

Aola let out a chuckle as she shifted to stand beside Crasea again, “Not to worry, you will be fully prepared”

“When are you two thinking of holding the ceremony?”

“Two months time” Crasea stated, “we know it might be a bit soon, but after …”

“After what he went through” Aola placed her hand on his chest as she shifted into his side, “but I don’t want to miss an opportunity to have a future with him.” She turned to look at Crasea, “I love you, Crasea, I can’t lose you.”

“I love you, O’yare. Don’t leave me. Please. I  … I need you. I can’t lose you.” 

Din’s voice filled Amara’s head, she shook her head, as a pain erupted in her head.

“Amara?” Fenn’s voice was full of concern as Amara hunched over, “what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, slight headache all of a sudden”

“You going to be okay flying back?”

“Yeah, probably did too much”

“We won’t keep you, go home and rest” Aola patted her arm again, “I’ll comm you later so we can discuss what it means to be the older sister for the ceremony”

“Thanks, take care you two”

It wasn’t long before Fennec was standing in the hangar of Boba’s palace watching the star fighter take off and head towards Mos Eisley. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Okay Grogu, so you see this” Adi pointed to the connector “this connector here” he looked to the little guy beside him, “it regulates the ion engines. You want to make sure that your engine doesn’t get too much ion, at the same time it can have too little. It must maintain a certain amount.” Grogu hummed almost in agreement. He had moved the pod racer to work on it outside, allowing for a bit of a breeze to waft over him. Not to mention, it gave the space for Din’s ship. 

“Now see this assembly here …” 

Amara headed closer towards Adi’s voice, the Podracer still had pieces missing, she stood beside it listening to her son educating Din’s son.

“…Which regulates the plasma energy binders.” Grogu made a series of noises almost like questions, “Well that’s why there’s also a way to regulate it in the cockpit, so that way during the race if something happens you are still able to make the necessary corrections.”

She couldn’t help smile at the closeness those two were getting, but it also pained her. When Din decided to leave them, he’d take Grogu with him leaving Adi with another pain in his heart, “Do you actually understand what he says?” Amara asked as she leaned over the open casing looking at her son.

Adi’s smile grew seeing his Ama, “I infer from context”

“Since when did you grow up? Inferring?”

“Had to happen some time” he smirked, remembering the day after his Ama was incased in carbonite, Din sitting him down, telling him the moment he saw him become a man was the moment Adi stood by his mother’s med bed and demanded answers. 

“Unfortunately, sweetie I’m gonna head home, I’m very tired”

Adi shifted from underneath the Podracer, taking Grogu with him despite the protest. As soon as Grogu saw Amara his protesting quieted, instead he reached out towards her. 

She couldn’t help chuckle at his adorable features and cute expressions, she took him in her arms, nudging her nose against his, chuckling as he cuddled against her, “Guess you wanted some cuddles, huh, kid?”

“He always wants cuddles” Adi chuckled.

“Reminds me a bit of you, when I first met you. You always wanted cuddles.” Remembering her son when he was younger, the nights he would cuddle into her side, have Ca’tra on one side, him on the other. All three cuddled together as sleep finally found them. 

Adi eyed his Ama as her eyes look as though they were welling with tears, “Ama, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I just pushed myself too hard doing my stances today” she shook her head out of the past and focused on the present. 

“You don’t have to push yourself, Ursu already said you’re doing a lot better than she said you would be. You’re already up and walking, running even.”

“But still not strong enough” she stated as her hand trailed along Grogu’s ears, while he cuddled himself further into her side. 

“You’ll get there Ama, it’s only been two weeks.”

She couldn’t help smirk at her son. Din’s words replayed again, she couldn’t help wondering if it was all just in her head, or if it was a memory she had forgotten. Had they told each other how they felt? Did he feel the same? Yet, his voice sounded like a dream, it didn’t sound real. 

“Ama?” Adi placed his hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong, you okay?”

“Yeah” she shook her head, he shouldn’t worry about her. “Just fading, I’m going to head towards the house, be careful on your way home.”

“Okay, you going to take Grogu with you? He’s looking a little sleepy in your arms.”

“Yeah” she chuckled, placing a kiss on top of Grogu’s head as he hummed in appreciation, “I’ll take this one with me” she couldn’t help looking at her son with admiration, he clearly enjoyed being a big brother. She smirked as Adi placed a kiss on her forehead, as he motioned for her to head on home. 

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Din sat in the pilot seat, it had been a week and a half since they left, and he couldn’t wait to see Ara again. Things between them had gotten a bit awkward, and he wasn’t sure what the reason was, maybe it was his fault for holding back as Adi wanted, maybe he didn’t want to overstep since she couldn’t remember. His biggest fear was that she did remember yet changed her mind. 

The cockpit was quiet as they all headed back to Tatooine, it had been a little over three weeks since Amara awoke, and the man responsible for all the pain Boba, Amara and Crasea had to suffer was currently in carbonite awaiting Boba’s justice, especially after going a few rounds with Boba and Din. 

Din smirked thinking of the man’s grovelling face as he pleaded with Boba for mercy, only to meet the business end of Boba’s carbine rifle, knocking him out completely.  

“How are you doing?” Din asked cutting the silence that had settled among them.

Boba looked over to the man who asked the question, “Are you asking if my guilt is appeased knowing that man is in carbonite? Then no.”

“I’m fully aware how that can feel, however, I’m asking how are you feeling since Amara has woken up.”

Boba rubbed his face as he leaned back in the co-pilot seat, it was weird being in Amara’s ship without her, “Guilty. That’s all I feel Djarin, from the moment I wake up, to the moments I catch a few minutes of sleep. I look at Crasea, I feel guilt. I look at Aola, guilt. Adi, guilt. Amara, guilt. I used to have trouble sleeping when Amara’s mom died. I’d close my eyes only to see Sintas lying on the ground, her body broken and bruised. Now I close my eyes, I see my daughter lying on the med bay, her face pale, blood seeping from her wound …” Boba let out a long sigh as his head rested against the headrest, “Seeing your child in such a helpless way …”

“Makes you feel like you’ve failed as a parent.”

Boba turned to look at the Mand’alor, “Forgot you’ve experienced this as well, how is your son doing?”

“He seems quite taken with Adi, I often find those two together.”

“Do you think they’re going to drive Amara crazy?”

Din chuckled as he readjusted himself in the pilot seat, “Without a doubt”

“Have you talked to her yet? Reminded her of what you both exchanged?”

“No. Adi asked me not to - - at least until she’s ready.”

“Hmmm” Boba didn’t know that was something Adi had discussed with Djarin, and something he’d have to address with Adi. He could understand where he came from, he would’ve protected Amara too. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’d rather be by her side than anywhere else.”

“You know that’s not going to always be possible. You’re still the Mand’alor.”

“Even as the Mand’alor … I want her by my side, however she’ll have me.” His hand tightened around the stick, not quite realizing where this conversation was going.

“What about Adi? Grogu?”

Din cleared his throat, “I’d want Adi by my side as well. Grogu is my son, I already did the rites with him.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you planning on telling all of this to Amara and Adi?”

“When the time is right, I still need to deal with Bo-Katan first.”

“Not to mention you still have one last bounty to work for me.”

“I know”

Boba watched the hyperspace window taking in what all this could mean in the near-distant future, “If I understand you correctly, you plan on robbing me of my family completely and take them with you to Mandalore.”

Din turned to look at the older Mandalorian beside him, for the first time since meeting Boba he was true and properly nervous, “If that is something she wants, possibly.”

Boba nodded as he listened, “Well get used to having me visit on a regular basis. I’ll make sure you’re treating them well, or I’ll take my family back, and your title” he turned his head to look at the visor beside him, “understood?”

“This is the way”

“This is the way”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“You’re what I need. Ara … O’yare, I don’t need anyone else. I need you.”

- * - 

“I need you, ner mesh’la (my beautiful) O’yare . Ner jatne burc’ya (my best friend). Ner hbina tyatr (my guiding star).”

- * - 

 “Please, don’t leave me; not when I’m finally beginning to feel free. I tried to push you away on the ship, telling you to leave, because you deserve better, and I know I’m being selfish in asking you to stay, but I am. I’m asking. Don’t leave me, cyar’ika.”

- * - 

“Ner hbina tyatr (my guiding star), don’t you see, there is no happiness without you.”

- * - 

“Ner hbina tyatr (my guiding star) you always know how to guide me.”

- * - 

“Look after yourself, while I’m gone. Please. I need you in one piece, cyar’ika.”

- * - 

 “Please cyare, please wake up. I can’t lose you. I love you, Amara. I need you to wake up. Please!”

- * - 

“I love you, O’yare. Don’t leave me. Please. I … I need you. I can’t lose you.”

- * - 

“You couldn’t bring me in, could you? You couldn’t just tell me the truth? No. You had to be the big badass I know you to be, right? You couldn’t let me be by your side? Do you have such little faith in me? Are you truly that stubborn and full of anger and grief to toss aside what we have? Don’t say we don’t have something, because we do. I know it. You know it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have sent me that message. I wish … Haran! (Hell!) I wish I got that message earlier, and not when I was two hours from Tatooine. I know you can take care of yourself! I know you’re use to do things your own way, but now! NOW I have to be the one to make this call to Adi! To Boba! I swore! I promised to protect you, you took that away from me. You took away my right to protect you.”

- * - 

“O’yare please, fight this! Don’t leave me. Don’t leave Adi. For us, fight! I didn’t think I would be able to find this again, please cyare, please fight. Come back to me. I’ve been able to bear so many things, I’ll bear this too, if you just come back to me. Please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Amara opened her eyes unable to understand what she just dreamt, she glanced over to her chrono, it was only one thirty in the morning. What the hell did she just dream about? Was that her imagination? It couldn’t have been real, right? Were those her memories?

She tossed and turned, trying to go back to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she kept seeing brown eyes full of concern and worry. Whose eyes was she seeing anyway? 

Why couldn’t she go back to sleep? Was it because of those eyes? Or because Babeh, Din and Krrsantan still hadn’t come back yet. She let out a sigh, rolling on to her back, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes focusing on the ceiling of her home, all thoughts of sleep now completely gone. She hadn’t really talked to Din since she woke up. Maybe that’s what’s been really bothering her, they fact they’ve barely talked. Outside of small pleasantries, neither had really expressed more. 

She pushed the blankets back, sitting up in her bed, trying to adjust to the reality she was feeling. She knew she was getting stronger, but she was just annoyed at the progress, however considering that nearly two months ago she was frozen in carbonite, and now almost four weeks later she was able to spar with Fennec without feeling pain, do her stances with her swords and not feel like dying every second, she was doing pretty good. 

And yet those damn brown eyes filled with concern and tears came flashing back into her mind. 

With frustration she quickly got dressed and headed towards the garage, she hadn’t really been there, outside of a quick check in with Gregor, she had left the garage to be handled by Pelli and Adi. For some reason, there was an apprehension she felt every time she neared the garage. 

She took in a deep breath as she took her time walking in, flashes of that night came flooding back as she stood in the darkness of the garage. 

The lights were dimmed in the garage, she was hoping to take advantage of the night vision on her hud. Her amban rifle trained on the door in the back, explosives attached to the latch on the front and back doors, the droids cameras were synched to her hud, if they came from the roof she would see that too. She saw the door shift as someone tried to force the door open. 

— * —

The explosion from the front and back door echoed loudly in the garage, she didn’t waste time, taking out as many as she could as soon as they stepped in.

— * —

 She aimed the grabbling hook at the beam above, in one quick movement she eased herself up, assessing the layout of the remaining mercenaries.

— * —

Explosion knocked the mercenaries off their feet, she held on to the beam as the heat reached up to where her level, once the heat and fire suppressed she was able to see another seven lying dead, three others were wounded severely. She shifted to the next beam, dropping down behind Adi’s pod racer, she took out her swords, facing five more who were inching their way over to her.

— * —

She took in a shuddering breath as she stood in front of Leemy, he was the only one left and he looked scared, worse, he looked frightened. 

“Why?”

“Why what dear?”

“Why kill him? Why allow that worm to kill him?” She needed to know, regardless of what he had to say, regardless of how stupid the reason, she had to know.

Leemy’s laugh filled the garage, “You really want to know”

“I need to know”

“The answer won’t give you what you want” he coughed, blood escaping from his lips, he furrowed his brows at seeing the dark liquid against his blue fingers. He snarled towards the woman who had surprised him in more ways than one. Amara could feel her energy fading, she wanted to take another stim but if she did, her heart wouldn’t survive, not that she would if the feeling of numbness indicated anything. She needed to know what the reason was. 

“I can see you’re going to be stubborn, my dear” Leemy sneered out, “fine, the reason why I allowed it is simple, because I could. Happy?”

“All the pain I’ve experienced for the past few years has simply been because you could”

“Yes.”

Amara’s breathing quickened, she hadn’t been able to remember that night, since she woke up. Not completely and now … she walked over to the service desk, she remembered kneeling behind the desk, taking out her comm to call Din.

“Hey Din, you’re probably wondering why I’m in my gear … well you see I may not have been completely truthful with you about why I sent away Gregor, Peli and Adi. I know you’re going to be mad at me, but you need to know the truth. The man who was responsible for Ca’tra’s death is on his way to me right now. I have a chance ner bare, a chance to avenge my husband’s death from a hut’uun such as Leemy Billie. There are so many things I need to say, but my time is running short … I should have said this when you were leaving to meet Grogu, but I thought … I thought I had more time. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, I know you think your past defines you, makes you unlovable because you’ve done things you’re not proud of, however that’s not true. I know it’s not true because … because I love you. I love you, Din. I’m so proud of you, of the man you are, despite all that has been thrown your way, you didn’t allow it to defeat you, you got back up. I should’ve told you when we were on Sorgan, should’ve told you when we were on Papsr. I think I realized it that night at the orphanage, how deeply in love with you I am, I’m sorry for wasting so much time. I love you, Din. With all my heart, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same because … because you gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. Hope. Thank you, Din. Look after Adi for me, tell him I love him. I love you both. I have to go, but never forget you are a good man, and I love you, cyare.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks, she had completely forgotten about her declaration. No wonder he’d been distant. Amara wiped the tears trying to wonder how hurt Din was knowing she hadn’t remember any of it. 

“Ara?”

Her hand froze against the desk, she cleared her throat, quickly wiping away the tears, she turned to the familiar voice and even more familiar shiny beskar and black visor staring at her. 

“Hey Din”

“What are you doing?”

She quickly shifted away and around the garage keeping her tear streaked cheeks out of his line of sight, “Oh, just checking at the repairs everyone did”

Din stilled his movements, “You haven’t been back since you woke up?”

Her hand fidgeted against one of the weapon’s panel, it was Ca’tra’s old storage. “Not really.” She opened the panel, if she remembered correctly this was near the explosion she set off.

Din watched as she focused on the tower of parts in front of her, he was going to ask what she was doing when a piece of the structure opened up, he shifted behind her to see an array of Mandalorian weapons, he recognized one of the vibroblades, it was the one Ca’tra used to carry around with him at the covert when they were kids “Ca’tra’s?”

Ara nodded, “Yeah, it use to be in the Sintas, after he passed away, it took me a while before I could move them here” she motioned to the panel in front, “I was afraid someone might steal them if I left them on the ship. Never thought they could’ve been destroyed in an attack at the garage.” 

She looked over all the weapons, quickly, everything looked in good nic, thankfully the cache did it’s job in protecting the equipment. She grabbed a long package from the back of the cache, closing the compartment before she moved towards the service desk. 

“Ara, why are you here in the middle of the night?”

She turned smirking at Din, “Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“We just got back from the Pyke Syndicate’s headquarters”

“How did it go?”

Din leaned against the desk, not really paying attention to what she was doing, he let out a sigh, “It was rough. Turns out the man who let that di’kut was Krim’s own son. It took some convincing, some …” he smirked, “aggressive negotiations”

“Aggressive negotiations?” Amara turned to look at him smirking, “What sort of negotiations?”

“Krrsantan ripping the arms of a few people, your dad and I shooting a few others.”

She nodded focusing her attention back on the package, “You all escaped with your lives? Impressive” her nerves were bridling just under the surface knowing how different that outcome could have been.

“I thought you would’ve had more faith in me” Din muttered his voice low.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t have faith in the best man I’d ever known?” She turned to look at him, she hadn’t opened the package, simply rested her hand on it. 

Din turned his head alarmingly quick, as his visor locked on to her eyes, “What did you just say?” He watched the holo vid whenever he could, he could practically recite that video word for word. 

She smiled as she looked at the visor, “You heard me. What you want to hear it again?” 

Din shifted from his spot, stepping closer to her, he could feel his heart beating out of his chest, there were three words he wanted to say, he’d been dying to tell her since she woke up. Yet his promise to Adi kept him from overstepping.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here”

She let out a long sigh, “I couldn’t sleep”

“Why not?” His hand was clenching by his side, he wanted to hold her, he wanted to cup her cheek. Gods, he missed her, he just wanted it to be like before.

“Had a pretty intense dream”

“About?”

He took another step closer to her, she let out a sigh, “Can you tell me if anything I say sounds familiar?”

“Sure”

“The dream started off with me unable to move, there was a voice in the darkness, it kept calling to me, keeping me between awareness and losing myself to the darkness.”

“What did the voice say?”

“I don’t remember all of it, but what I do remember is: 

Please fight! Don’t leave me. I didn’t think I would be able to find this again, please fight. Come back to me. I’ve been able to bear so many things, I’ll bear this too, if you just come back to me. Please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Din swallowed hard, he remembered those words, of course he knew those words he said them to her at her bedside, “Do you know who said it?”

Amara focused on the package in front of her, she was going to test the waters, if he wasn’t going to admit it, she didn’t want to push him. She took in a deep breath, “If I were to say yes, what would you say?”

He closed the distance between them, “Are you serious?”

“Yes”

He rested his thumb and forefinger on her chin, turning her head slightly to look at him, he noticed how her eyes welled up with tears, “If you really remember, and you know who it was that said it … then cyar’ika, I can finally breathe again.”

“Din” her eyes locked on his visor, her bottom lip trembled, she watched as the visor shifted and slowly began to rise, “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time” Din’s voice changed midway, his helmet raised past his lips. Amara could see the scruffiness that was suppose to be a beard and his moustache. It raised even higher showing his strong nose. She watched as he sat the helmet down on the desk beside them, her eyes couldn’t move from the helmet. She wanted to look at him, but she was scared, “Cyar’ika, please look at me”

“I want to” her voice had gotten small, smaller than she had thought possible. 

“Then what’s holding you back?”

“What it’ll mean when I do”

“The only thing it’ll mean is how much I care about you” Din cupped both her cheeks, her hand rested against his forearm, while the other clutched around the large package on the desk. “How much I want to share this part with you. Please cyare, look at me.”

Amara shifted her eyes, she gasped when she saw those same brown eyes that had been haunting her every time she closed her eyes, she shifted her hand till it began caressing his cheek, “I was right”

“Right?”

“Your beauty on the inside matches the handsome face before me”

“You remember”

“I remember. I remember everything.”

Din pulled her closer to him, resting his right hand on her waist, where it always belonged, “Mesh’la, I’ve missed you” he pressed his forehead against hers.

“I’ve missed you, and I have something for you” she pulled back to look at Din, sliding the large package that had been resting on the desk.

“What is it?”

“Open it”

Din shifted her so she was in between his arms, her back pressed against his chest, his head over her shoulder so he could see, as he unwrapped it a familiar sight appeared before him, an amban rifle, made of a material that shined as brilliant as his beskar. He trailed his hand over it. “An amban rifle?”

“It use to belong to Ca’tra, it’s only right it goes to his vod.”

“What’s it made from?” His voice choked, he didn’t think he’d ever have something beside his armour from his extended family.

“Songsteel”

“Thank you, cyar’ika” he placed a kiss on her cheek. 

Amara turned to look at him, “Din, I … I …”

“I know. I love you, O’yare.”

She pressed her lips against his, cupping his cheek, “I love you, Din” she mumbled against his lips, his hands rested on her waist turning her slowly till her back pressed against the desk. Deepening the kiss, as her arms wrapped around his neck bringing him closer.

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[girl-among-mts]

Part Twelve

Thalia, the young Twi'lek woman who served as Rose’s secretary, popped her head around the open office door.

“Sorry to bother, but the General is calling again.”

Rose looked up from her datapad, catching the woman’s grin.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” Rose muttered, unable to hide the flush in her cheeks as she set the tablet down. The report from Finn and Poe could wait. Ever since they’d finalized the normalized trade agreement, the Grand Marshal had become more and more comfortable ringing her up out of the blue. Sometimes he had business to discuss, trifling matters that any number of underlings could sort out themselves, but more often than not his holocalls were casual in nature. Half the time, Rose wondered if he was simply bored and had no one else to talk to.

“What’s he like in person?” Thalia pressed as Rose reached for her holocom.

She gave the Twi’lek a look. “He’s a dangerous military mastermind. A killer, /and/ a criminal,” she said matter-of-factly. Even if he was fine to look at...

Thalia shrugged a shoulder. “He’s had the Order share a lot of their new farm tech. Been a big help on my brother’s farm. So, can’t be all bad.”

Fantastic, Rose thought sourly. Already winning hearts and minds. Hux was turning out to be quite a capable politician.

“Yeah, he’s a true altruist,” she drolled. “Now can I get some privacy maybe?”

Rose rolled her eyes at the suggestive waggle of Thalia’s eyebrows as the pneumatic door swished closed. Rose depressed the answer button on her coms. There, Hux’s face came into focus. A pleased, catlike smile spread across his lips. Rose tried to tamp down the pleased little flip-flop in the pit of her stomach but utterly failed. Dangerous military mastermind, she reminded herself. Killer, criminal, and *really good* at pushing all her buttons in ways she couldn't help but enjoy, deep down.

“Ah, Commander,” he purred. “How good it is to see you.”

“Armitage,” she quipped in greeting, trying to sound professional when in reality she’d put down all her work once again to take his call. “How can I help you?”

“I simply wanted to inform you that my personal shuttle will be passing through Syris space tomorrow evening. We will be resupplying overnight before continuing on our journey”

“You don’t need to let me know every time you fly through my sector,” she reminded him, feeling a bit hot in her normally very comfortable office.

“Ah, perhaps not.” Was she imagining it, or did he seem a bit nervous just then? "However," he continued, “I am not merely calling to inform you. I was hoping you might join me. For drinks. A brief reunion of sorts. I’ve just come from the Senate, as you know. I’m sure we'll find important matters of state to discuss.”

Rose swallowed. What was he proposing? Not some kind of candlelight dinner, surely. Say ‘no’, the rational part of her brain warned immediately. You can’t just go galavanting off to have drinks with General Hux, Grand Marshal of the First Order; killer, criminal, and dangerous military mastermind. Even if he does have a massive crush on you.

Then again… she’d been approving reports and missives and signing legislation and wrangling politics for /weeks/ now without so much as an afternoon off.

A drink sounded so, so tempting…

“You better have brought that expensive, Core World... whiskey with you,” she said before she could stop herself. Hux’s sly expression turned smug.

“Of course. I'll see you tomorrow then, Miss Tico."

"Uh-huh, bye." Rose rushed to cut the comms call before her heart could leap out of her chest.

Stars, what was she doing?

#gingerrose #armitage hux #rose tico #general hux #microfic #gingerrosevss #prompt #canon divergent au

[gerdavonrinnlingen]

I was tagged by @cinlat - thank youuu :D It's been a while since anybody tagged me ^^

I’m tagging @phelfromgrace, @fluffynexu (you bet you are working on a worldbuilding post), @hiersinddrachen, @funnygirl117 and @tishinada and anybody else who wants to do this!

Here is a very early draft of The Yavin Falcon (title may change), a Rose/Poe/Hux fic I have been struggling with in the past months.

But where else should Hux go? Here at least he felt like he belonged, the knowledge of having Stormtroopers ready, even without their armour put him at ease. He took a look around, old men and women with grey hair were sitting around, reading the holo news with the air of people who thought they were important. In truth they were all just waiting… waiting for another opportunity, waiting for somebody, anybody to come to them, to affirm that they still had power, that they still mattered.

Hux sighed. It was easy to look down on them, at least some of these old relics had deals with local gangs, providing the criminals with military knowledge, weapons contracts and stars knows what else in exchange for money and influence.

Whereas he was just ending up in this cantina because it was the only place where he could actually look down on others. Not like the Hutt yesterday, or the frivolous Twi’lek who had seen him as amusing at best.

Amusing… as if he wasn’t dangerous, as if he hadn’t designs in his mind that could bring death and destruction over planets. Perhaps he should take one of the many job offers the Hutts had sent his way.

Perhaps he should return to the blueprints, the circuits and the lasers. He pulled the tea egg out of the water and carefully put it on a small drip mat.

Memories of a bright red light, the stench of burned wood, melted snow and a burning heat on his face made his hand tremble slightly, a drip of tea landed on the table. Hux stared at the small spot, gulping.

No, he just couldn’t. Perhaps it was better this way? Toiling away on this hell hole planet, living from day to day until he got stabbed for a few credits or until one of his enemies found him.

Hux wrapped his hands around the tea mug, enjoying its warmth. Maybe that wouldn’t even be the worst that could happen, instead of slowly wasting away until he was like these old generals, going on about their exploits, talking about battles nobody remembered, alone, cold and bitter he could go out in a final confrontation. Looking once more his enemies in the face, sneering at them, taunting them until they freed him from his misery.

He sighed. Or was he just being dramatic? Had all that propaganda talk about heroism in the face of certain death wormed its way into his mind?

Hux checked his holo and reached out to take his tea when he heard a strangely familiar voice ring out. 

“Hey, easy there, big guy. I’m just looking for a job.”

Hux lowered his hand, down to the hidden blaster inside his jacket. He knew that voice… and it raised his hackles. He leaned back into the wall, he prefered this table because it was partly hidden by a large holo fern, enabling him to hide whenever he chose to do so.

The commotion came from the bar, slowly he leaned forward, peeking around the corner. A man with curly dark brown hair sat at the bar. The barkeep was looking grumpy as ever and said something unintelligible.

“Come on, … is not my intention,” said the dark-haired man. 

Hux listened intently to the bits and pieces he could hear. Yes, there was no doubt, the voice was familiar. He stayed hidden, pretending to check his holo as he glanced over to the bar. The man finally showed his profile as he pointed at something behind the barkeep.

Hux froze. Dameron! He quickly recuperated and leaned further back in his booth. Damn it, what the kriff was Poe Dameron doing here? There was little doubt that it was some kind of resistance operation—why else would he show up in a Cantina like the Silver Light? 

Were they looking for him? Had they finally come to make him pay for Starkiller, even though he had spied for them? Hux took a deep breath, calming himself. No, that was inane, for all they knew he had died along with Pryde.

But maybe they heard rumours that he was here, on Nar Shaddaa? What a field day Dameron must have, finding out about his nemesis who now barely scraped by with card games, idling around in dingy Cantinas and hoping that his fellow First Order officers never found out that he had betrayed the Order.

Hux pressed his lips together, peeking again at Dameron and the barkeeper. Hm, Dameron had said something about a job, so maybe he’s pretending to look for one. It stands to reason that he pretended to be a First Order officer himself, at least that’s what Hux would do. 

Dameron was very good at putting people at ease, according to his file he was a smooth operator who had the gift to get along with pretty much everybody. 

The barkeep wasn’t known for his loose lips, so the chances were high that Dameron wouldn’t get the intel he was looking for. Meaning he would come back eventually, try to worm his way into the good graces of the officers here.

Think… he had to think. Should he just ignore him and avoid the Silver Light? No, he had to find out what Dameron was up to. If he was looking for him, he needed to kill him before anybody found out where he was. And if he wasn’t looking for him… hm, that was an interesting thought.

Hux was under no illusion that there were bigger Firaxan sharks out there than him. Lunatics like General Zabor for example. Dameron was looking for something or someone and he would probably kick the hornet's nest until he got what he wanted or until somebody slit his throat.

Should he just tip off the Stormtroopers and have him killed? What if he said something that incriminated Dameron? Hux drummed his fingers on the table, grimacing. No, it was too risky. Damn it, he had to take care of him personally.

He quickly checked the knife strapped to his left wrist. He would just follow him once he left and see what he could find out. If he had learned something in all his years assassinating enemies, it always paid off not to rush things.

Too bad that he didn’t have droids or trackers he could employ. Damn it, he should have planned for this eventuality and set up a plan!

Hux took another deep breath and reached out for his tea. His hand was calm when he grabbed it and took a sip. He was alert, cold and felt ready for anything. It was different from his usual unease that had taken hold of him in the last years.

He leaned back, out of sight and listened to the voices. About half an hour later Dameron fell silent, another quick glance revealed that he was rummaging through his pockets and threw a credit stick on the counter.

Dameron was about to leave.

Hux got up, casually walking towards the exit and left the Cantina. Outside he went to a group of lowly officers who were chatting amongst themselves and were smoking cigarras. He asked them if he could have one and they offered him a thin brown cigarra. 

He lowered his head to get a light, from the corner of his eye he saw Dameron step out of the Cantina. 

It was dark enough that Dameron wouldn’t get a good look at his face, especially in that cold neon light. He thanked the officers and left, following the other man at some distance. Back in the Order he had not needed subterfuge, he had simply melted into the dark background, disappearing behind other officers until it was the right time to make himself known.

But common sense told him that he just had to keep his distance and make sure that he looked casual doing it, no hasty movements and staying calm, even if he lost him out of his sight.

#gingerrose #gerda trying stuff #armitage hux #rose tico #poe dameron #wip #unbetaed #excerpt