This Man Will Be The Death Of Me.

did you mean: your beloved blorbo and babygirl [google / template]

They killed the olive trees. They killed the little children. They killed the unborn. They killed the father. They killed the mother. They killed the journalist. They killed the journalists entire family. They killed all the aunts and uncles. They killed the doctors. They killed the soul of his soul. They killed the groom. They killed the bride. They killed the cats. They killed the elderly people older than their apartheid state. They killed the thousands of memories painted on the walls. They killed 30,000+ Palestinians that we will never get back. [@/ missfalsteenia on X. 01/07/24.]

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; tony stark

pairing ; father figure!Tony Stark x adopted!gn!Reader platonic / mentions ; bucky barnes, wanda maximoff, natasha romanova, harold "happy" hogan, pepper potts

outline —; Happy is ten minutes late. Tony is freaking out. And you are here, munching on a burger, lost somewhere in Midtown Manhattan. 

word count —; 1.8k

WARNINGS —; mention of HYDRA

tags / themes —; reader forgets their birthday, father-child complications, pepper being a mom, happy being... happy,

A/N —; finally beta-read!! this is just so... self-indulgent, it was my birthday a few days ago and i wanted to fill the pit in my stomach w/ some more surprises!!

Midtown Manhattan is a maze to you. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to walk. You didn’t get to choose to walk. And Happy knew that. 

He was about… ten minutes late, you’ve stood in the same spot for ten minutes. Ten. Minutes. It’s fun and all. Until, you had the brilliant idea to walk around the block of your school, ultimately getting lost between the local shops and roads of the large, loud city. 

Gazing up, you could see the lovely “Stark” brandished unto the Avengers Tower. A medal, a hope to those who looked upon it. Your eyes landed on a small restaurant, two huge windows on either side, and a strained glass door in the middle. Its contrast to the colours of the buildings that’s surrounding it; yellows instead of blue, reds instead of grey. 

Plus, not a single soul. Your lips curled into a smile. 

Perfect, it looks like someone vomited rainbows. You concluded to yourself before crossing the road. Your fingers curled around the metal handle, pushing it open. With hands clinging on to the backpack hanging from your shoulder, you smiled at the woman behind the counter. Though, you felt the presence of a schoolboy with a bright blue flannel, sitting in the corner; burger, fries, and soda in front of him, his main focus was on his phone. 

Turning away, you let the soft smell of burgers fill your senses. 

Eventually, you found a spot beside the window, looking outside a bit before the woman from behind the counter came over to pick your order. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” You purse your lips to silently point at the boy. 

“Burger, curly fries, and soda.” The woman repeated, she made eye contact with you, then smiled. “Anything else?” 

“Uh, no soda and ketchup please.” You grimaced, fidgeting with your hands underneath the table, averting your gaze outside. 

She tilted her head. “Just water?” 

You nodded and whispered as if she could hear you, “Yes.” 

The woman simply nodded and disappeared behind the counter. And you heaved a sigh, a very quiet sigh, as to not disrupt anyone’s peace in the quiet restaurant. The boy from across the room settled his phone down, looked at the burger, then at you. He waved shyly. And you mimicked the action, despite not entirely understanding his point of social cue. 

You chose to shift your gaze to the clear, glass window. Watching the people walk by and the cars speeding through the road. The more you count the amount of people passing by, the more you understood Stark, he cared for these people. The heavy exterior of his iron suit may not tell much, and even though he doesn’t physically have a heart. He does care. 

The smell of your order reached your nose, making you turn back and smile. You paid the kind woman and started to indulge in your fries first. 

Your mind drifted back to Happy. If he wasn’t ten minutes late, you would’ve been at home right now, perched against the headboard of your bed, resting. But the day would end, and you’d start all over again. Disrupting your schedule isn’t so bad. You get time for yourself, you don’t have to talk.

You smiled, as you bit your burger. And as if your thoughts aligned with reality, Happy Hogan walks in the store. 

Happy fuckin’ Hogan. 

With his suit and sunglasses and all. Out of breath, he looks at your retreating figure; attempting to swallow the burger as you smiled at him bitterly. “Hi,” You mouthfully said, settling your burger down, and signalling him to sit down. “Do you want to order anything?” You asked, mouth clear this time, as you swallowed the food. 

“I was looking everywhere for you,” Happy said through heavy breaths, slouching his shoulders. 

You nod along his words and licked your teeth with a sound. “You were late,” You took a bite of your burger again, swallowing. “So, I wandered off.” 

“You wandered off?” He repeated with a tone that clearly said he wasn’t happy. 

“I wandered off,” You repeated, your palms were free and expressed your tone. “Why were you late?” 

A twinkle behind Happy’s eyes, then, his face contorted into a blank expression. He cleared his throat, sitting straight in the chair. “Tony wanted me to do…” He fixed his tie clumsily. “Stuff.” As his words escaped his mouth, you bit into your burger comically, rolling your eyes. “Hey— He’s really worried, you need to eat the rest of,” Happy made circle gestures to your food. “This. Otherwise, he’ll—” 

“Call me,” You finished for him, wiping the ends of your mouth with a tissue. You looked around, averting your gaze from anywhere but Happy. It landed on the floor. “I know.” 

Happy tapped the table twice, making you pay close attention to him. “He cares,” He says, offering a smile through his stubble. Though, you couldn’t really tell. 

Nodding along his words, you licked your lips. “I know.” You confessed. 

The ride alone with Happy is the same; quiet. But you never minded. 

This time is different, something is different. Your palm fell against the texture of the seat, forehead against the car window. “This isn’t home,” You knocked the window, your eyes landed on the rear mirror. “Where are we going?” 

Happy’s eyes were ahead, avoiding your gaze. He’d be adamant in keeping eye-contact, for some reason, he wasn’t… looking at you. “Avengers Tower.” 

“What?” You blurted out, scratching the lobes of your ear, you said a bit softer; “Why?” You bit your bottom lip slightly, pulling yourself from the window, settling down onto your seat. 

He cleared his throat again. 

Weird. That wasn’t likely of him. “Tony’s there.” 

You furrow your brows, sighing as your head falls back. “Do I have to be there too?” You asked, though, quickly shaking your head. “Why do I have to be there?” 

Happy sighs, it wasn’t a condescending sigh, he wasn't tired of your questions, he just sighs—heaves out a long breath before saying. “You’ll see.”

“Ah, there you are!” Pepper exclaimed, her long hair bouncing as she swiftly hugged you. Giving your temple a kiss. “Come on, everyone’s waiting for you.” 

You were about to question everyone? Before you feel Happy slightly nudge you to follow Pepper, trailing closely behind you. You shake off the sensitivity of his touch before your school shoes slapped against the marbled floor. 

“How was school?” Pepper asked, pressing a button in the elevator. Her soft hands drifted back of your head, tugging a strand of it behind your ear. 

You smile, eyes ahead the number of the floor, brows raised. You rub your eyes with the back of your palms, yawning. “Normal.” 

Pepper Potts is the closest mother figure you’ve ever since HYDRA happened. Glimpses of your past always came peeking through the surface, ruining any chances of communicating like a normal person. But… Pepper, she somehow reminded you what it’s like to be human. She taught you to be more open, to not be so tense, to hold your head high. “Just normal?”

“Until Happy,” You jabbed a thumb at the man beside you. “Was late.” 

Pepper tilted her head at the man, amused. “Don’t be late next time.” She eyed him as the elevator doors opened. 

Turning around the corner, with Tony’s back turned, the Avengers erupted into cheers. Much to your surprise. You slowly backed out, slightly overwhelmed with the amount of people in the room. “Happy Birthday!” 

Your shoulders slumped back and you tried to bite down a smile. Oh. It was your birthday. “...Thank you?” You slowly inched in, seeing familiar faces. Laughter erupted again, they were drunk. Definitely. How long have they been waiting for you? Wanda came in first, hugging your shoulders. Then Natasha’s crushing hug and smile. Then… “Barnes,” You chuckled as he ruffled your hair. 

“Heat sink,” Bucky affectionately bit back, his hands curled around a clumsy, boxed present. He tossed it to you. “Don’t tell Tony.” He whispered, before patting your shoulder, and heading to the kitchen, probably to get another drink. 

Tony smiled, showing his teeth. “Happy Birthday, kid.” 

There was a silence that hung right above your heads; other than the Avengers constant laughter; there’s the awkwardness between the two of you. No matter how long the years passed by—it’s always been there, you were unsure as to how you could conquer it. 

Maybe, you could start now. Pepper and Happy passed by you, feeling that they were suddenly invading, they headed close to the other Avengers. You cleared your throat, stepping forward. “Thanks, Tony.” You said a bit timidly, causing his brows to raise slightly. 

Tony examined you up and down. You were still in your uniform, now all baggy and messy. “How was school?” He inquired, signalling his head to follow him in the kitchen. 

“Normal, until Happy showed up late.” You mimicked his action, looking back at Happy and Pepper with a smile. “Went to a restaurant. Ate something.” 

Tony nodded his head along with your vague storytelling. “You got lost?” He raised a brow. 

You grinned cheekily, leaning against the countertable with your elbow. You swiped your palm against the base of your neck, grunting a little before replying. “A bit.” 

“Sure, a bit.” Tony said, pouring you a glass of apple juice. He handed it to you, “Happy Birthday again.” 

A pause. He continued. “I know we don’t talk a lot, kid. But I want you to know that—” 

You sipped your apple juice loudly, smacking your lips together. “Care about me,” You grimaced, not to him, you didn’t have the courage to look anyone in the eyes right now. “I know.” 

Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the countertable, just beside you. Though, far enough for your liking. “No,” His lips formed into a line, you dipped your head lower, looking at him between your eyelashes. He made that stubble face that Happy would, you couldn’t distinguish if it was smiling and frowning. “I don’t… express it enough.” 

Another pause. It wasn’t the same silence that hanged minutes ago. 

It was comforting. You patiently waited. 

Tony looked at you, with a smile this time. “I care about you, kid.” He says this like an oath. Your head was still dipped down, gaze fixed on the floor. Your vision begins to water, some-fucking-how. “You’ve been through a lot,” He continues, watching as you set the glass down. “And you’ve been so strong.” He smiles when you look at him. “I’m proud of y—” 

His words were cut off with you hugging him. Tony didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your retreating figure, somehow, he understood your quiet sobs. The way your fingers tremble behind his back, the way your legs buckled, and the way your quiet sniffles were hidden by the collar of his shirt. He continued anyway, Tony’s nose was buried into your hair as he said. “I’m proud of you.” 

♡ PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.

I had to go back to this because it was so good. It was quite confusing with the dialogues (like, which character speaks. Because, it's a nice rule; a new paragraph should be started every time a new person is speaking to avoid confusion). Overall; check this blog out, they're so cool !!

The Mandalorian and The Jedi

gif by: frodo-sam

Chapter 1 of The Unforgiving Series!

summary: It was a normal day until you met the mandalorian of your dreams (literally)

word count: 5.5k

content: din djarin x f!jedi!reader, kuiil x platonic!reader, nightmare, canon typical violence, brief mention of blood, slow burnn

a/n: wooo first chapter~~ this is my first time really fleshing out a character's motivations and creating a detailed backstory, so i hope i wrote it in a way that made you want to find out more about her :") this is the longest fic i've ever written omg... if i delayed posting this chapter any longer i could just keep editing and fixing things and it was stressing me out and i promised i'd post it today, so here it is! any feedback is greatly appreciated 🤲 if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist pls don't hesitate to tell me! anyways that's all for now! i hope u like this chapter!!

Nevarro - 9 ABY

It’s been a year since you’ve arrived here. A year since you decided to settle on a volcanic, ashen planet, called Nevarro. It wasn’t your first choice of places where you wanted to settle, it literally being a haven for bounty hunters in the Outer Rim… Nonetheless, it was relatively quiet where you were. That's what you wanted, peace and quiet — right?

In the past decade, you never had a place to call home. You were a nomad of sorts, always moving, never staying in one place for more than a year. You didn't want to deal with the possibility of forming new relationships, that was something you wanted to stay far away from. And now that you've hit the one year mark — so close to saying you've broken the one rule you've followed diligently for so long — if you said that you weren't proud of yourself, it would be a lie. 

It was definitely a hitch in your plans when you were quickly made aware of the existence of a certain neighbor of yours (your only one), when he came so far as to welcome you, as he hasn’t had a neighbor in years. Living not too far off from where you were, he had even prepared you a traditional Ugnaught dish as a gift. You were apprehensive to be on the receiving end of such a kind gesture — most people were not that kind. But your neighbor was not most people, and in your final assessment, you had deemed him not a threat as you had sensed no ill will in his actions.

The overly-friendly Ugnaught called himself Kuiil and he was a moisture farmer. A kind man that offered you work, probably after taking note of your lack of wealth upon seeing your unkempt, barely furnished home. Your work entailed making sure his farm was well kept and taking care of his blurrgs, to which you had humbly accepted. Options were limited to say the least, not unless you wanted to work at a cantina with people or even worse — do bounty work. The idea of having to join a guild did not entice you one bit. And the only person you had to be around was a nice old man, you could hardly complain.

After some months, the two of you formed a mutually beneficial relationship where Kuiil had extra help around the farm including protection — and you, a job. 

Kuiil had also made the annoyingly kind habit of checking up on your mental state. Asking you (an emotionally constipated person) how you were feeling and like routine, you would tell him that you're fine, but of course, Kuiil, a man that you've barely knew for a few months, could see right through your front and could tell when some days were tougher than others. In return for his kindness, you made sure to protect the peace that was created on his farm as well as protecting its less than amiable, beastly inhabitants.

Even after a year of being the only company the two of you had, you continued to maintain a certain level of distance from Kuiil. He knew when not to push your limits when regarding your past and you appreciated that. Despite your reserved nature, he had opened up to you about his early life and how he had been forced to spend it in servitude to the Galactic Empire. Whenever you think about what he’s been through and who he had to serve makes your blood boil with anger.

Your time on Nevarro gave you a sense of normalcy — or how you would imagine what having a normal life would be like.

And it was peaceful for a time, that is, until an influx of bounty hunters started to come through Kuiil’s place trying to hunt down a certain quarry. It got so hectic to a point that multiple bounty hunters would come by asking him for some sort of help (to which he always agreed to), it was a hindrance, really. A hindrance to your wonderful plans of living a somewhat solitary life. 

The Ugnaught had asked you once, if you could do something to help, as he had taken note of your skill, despite you not being exactly forthcoming with all of your capabilities. But you had declined. As you stated that it wasn't your problem and that the effort was simply not worth the trouble. He was not pleased with your answer, but for the most part kept his disapproval to himself.

However, if you saw another bounty hunter asking for help from your Ugnaught neighbor again, you were going to drop kick them to the next sector.

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡° ✩ ☼⋆｡° ✩☽︎˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆

Darkness surrounded you. The only source of light appeared from a crack in the wooden door of your closet. Heart pounding rapidly, chest heaving, helpless to stop the horrific event before you. You're on the floor, knees being held close to your chest, as you try to make yourself as small as possible. Rocking yourself back and forth in hopes that this was all a sick dream. A gloved hand begins to reach for the doorknob — and you scream.

Your eyes snap open and your body is upright in a flash, blaster already in your hand, aimed at any semblance of a threat — only to realize there is none. You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe. Repeating those familiar words to yourself as you lower the blaster. Sighing heavily as you fall back onto the bed, rubbing at your sleep deprived eyes, moonlight glistening through the crevices of your hands.

You force yourself to get out of bed and you stumble clumsily, nearly tripping over your own feet. Eventually, you make it to the bathroom to splash your face with water, soaking your long sleeve up to your elbows in the process. You grip the sink as best as you can with trembling hands while your head is down, focusing solely on your breathing in an attempt to calm your senses.

As you lift your head and look into the mirror, you shudder. You’re face to face with your 6 year old self, her eyes emotionless and her finger pointing at you in blame. Your heart seizes when you see that her face is splattered in a thickly crimson glaze — like it was melting away at her innocence from the outside in. No, no, no. You shook your head weakly, bringing your hand to cover your face as you sunk to the floor. It’s not real. It’snot real. It’snotreal.It’snotreal.It’snotreal.It’snotreal.

After some time, when the panic subsided and the shaking stopped, you will yourself to get up from the now, damp ground and prepare for yet another day ahead.

It was a normal day like any other, riding with Kuiil to check the perimeter, that is, until you found someone being attacked by a wild blurrg. Your original thought was: Oh look, it's yet another bounty hunter looking to cause trouble, but what you saw was not what you expected. 

It was a Mandalorian. 

Still, technically a bounty hunter, but it was something new.

On the outside you may have looked normal. Cold, intense stare and all, but inside — your mind was reeling, having seen this particular Mandalorian before. Not in person anyway, but in your dreams. They looked a bit different, perhaps due to the lack of silver beskar, but you couldn’t deny the similarities. On top of that, you haven't seen their kind in years, having believed the survivors were still in hiding after the Great Purge, so this had to mean something. 

You sent a look over to Kuiil in question, as if to ask, should we save them? Even though you very well knew what his answer would be.

He returned with a stern look as if to say, is that even a question, go!

You brought out your blaster instantaneously and shot the blurrg with a dart, swiftly immobilizing it. The struggling Mandalorian thanked you in between grunts while pulling himself out from underneath the wild animal. You only nodded in response, keeping your blaster at hand and it shook ever so slightly. Maker. Remnants of the nightmare still permeated your mind and it — your weakness, was displayed out in the open, to a stranger no less. Your frustration did not go unnoticed by the mercenary.

With your features hidden by the mask, due to the dusty nature of Nevarro, made it so the Mandalorian could only see your eyes. Even so, he was able to catch a glint of emotion that you tried so hard to conceal. It didn’t go unnoticed on your end either, that the eyes that bore into your intense ones were unable to tear their own gaze away.

“You are a bounty hunter,” it’s not a question, Kuiil has seen them enough times to know and it releases the Mandalorian from his trance, and he confirms. 

“I will help you. I have spoken.”

You ride off first, not dwelling on the show of weakness that you’ve just shown, but instead you roll your eyes at your oh-so-welcoming-to-bounty-hunters boss.

“Why are you always so quick to bring strangers into your home? One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed.” You give Kuiil a hushed scolding as you so often find yourself doing these days. 

“Are you alright?” He countered instead, noticing how you looked especially disheveled this morning. “Hey, don’t try and change the subject,” you chide, “But yeah. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just… had a rough night.” You don’t explain further and he takes what he can get, responding with an unbelieving hum.

The two of you approach his home, with the Mandalorian following loosely behind and finally Kuiil replies, in jest, “If you’re so worried about my safety why don’t you stay and watch him.” 

There was no answer to that — unless you wanted to acknowledge your concern for him is anything more than what you're paid to do. To the silence, Kuiil simply says, “I have spoken.” And walks into his home with the Mandalorian following in step, who tilts his helmet your way briefly in greeting. After he enters, you lower your mask to aggressively huff a breath of air, blowing away the stray strands of hair from your face and eventually entering Kuiil’s home reluctantly.

As you speak quietly to Kuiil, the Mandalorian sits on the right side of the room, beskar covered body, crouched, due to the size of the hut. 

“If he so much as tilts his head the wrong way, I’ll shoot him.” And as you walk over to sit on the other side of the room, you feel his eyes trained on you — for reasons you are sure of to be because he somehow heard you threaten to blast him. Unbeknownst to you, he was just in awe as it was his first time seeing your unmasked face.

“Many have passed through. They seek the same one as you.” Kuiil monotony states, just as he had to the countless others before the Mandalorian.

You take this time to actually look at the armored man across the room. Taking note from earlier that instead of silver, he wore red beskar, with various weapons adorned all over his body. But the helmet remained the same as from your dream. From the diligently polished beskar helmet, to the well worn boots on his feet, you could allude that he was someone who took great pride in his culture. His energy radiated a loyal and reserved soul.

“Did you help them?” He asks, voice low and modulated.

“Yes. They died.” Well that's putting it simply, Kuiil.

The Mandalorian tilts his head in wariness, “Well, then I don’t know if I want your help.” You snicker, sensing his gaze falling onto you before Kuiil continues, “You do. I can show you to the encampment.”

“What’s your cut?” He asks as he turns back to Kuiil and he simply replies in his usual Kuiil fashion, “Half.”

Before leaving, you spoke directly to the Mandalorian for the first time,  “He means half of the blurrg you helped capture.'' It’s become a recurring theme that people found it difficult to make sense of the way in which the Ughnaught spoke, and this was the first and only instance where you had offered any clarification to a passing bounty hunter, to which Kuiil subtly took note of this.

You decided to leave, seeing as your worries were misplaced after sensing zero hostility from the newest bounty hunter to pass through Kuiil’s place. But if you were being honest, you left early because you felt drained from this morning’s ordeal. You didn't have the energy to listen to these two strike a deal and quite frankly, you just needed to be alone. 

So you grabbed some food from Kuiil’s kitchen and bid him goodbye, giving the Mandalorian a brief nod of acknowledgement as well. He returns the gesture. When you exit, you don’t hear a definitive agreement, but you sensed that he would be willing to go through with Kuiil’s plan.

You took off on your blurrg and rode to what you called “home” for the past 12 months. It was a small and quaint place, and from the lack of personalization, a passerby would assume that no one lived here. You barely had any items that were precious to you, most things being destroyed or lost proved it difficult.

Briefly glancing at the wooden box in the corner of your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of the object inside calling to you, almost like it knew you would call upon it in due time. You subconsciously reach towards it before stopping yourself. Instead, you toyed with the chain of your crystal necklace, lost in thought.

After regaining your composure, you prepared the rations you stole from Kuiil’s earlier before beginning your night routine. A routine that consists of doing everything you can to not sleep.

Oh, sleep. What was once something you looked forward to at the end of a day. Although many moons have passed since you've felt that way, sleeping wasn't the issue, it was the nightmares that came with it. 

In the past decade, many of your sleepless nights were caused by the nightmares that found themselves invading the confines of your mind. A place that was meant to be sacred and shielded, was now only home to your ghosts, your regrets, and your grievances.

It was like an endless loop. If you felt you were making strides getting past your pain and trauma, your thoughts would come back to haunt you in the depths of the night, entertained at your futile attempts of finding peace.

You couldn't dismiss your gut feeling that these dreams were a manifestation of your mind being in some vicious conflict with a foreign entity. Like red blood cells attacking the invading pathogen in order to prevent illness — you couldn't quite explain it. These dreams felt skewed — something separate from the reality you’ve always known. The uncertainty and distrust of your own recollection was slowly tearing away at the seams of your sanity. It made you want to split your brain in two.

In light of that, something to mention was that nights weren't always so bad. 

When you're lucky, your dreams had nothing to do with your past. Sometimes they would just be signs from the force reaching their omniscient hands for you, even in slumber. These “force dreams” that you had called it, had given you what few good nights of sleep you have. That is where you had dreamed about the Mandalorian — it wasn't a dream sequence by any means, it was more like flashes of people or objects. The person that came to you being the Mandalorian in full silver beskar armor, just standing in front of you. And that was usually all the context you got.

In the end, this so-called night routine was a losing game and you know it, but it never discourages you from trying. As the droop of your eyelids becomes harder to manage and your body slowly gravitates towards the plush and softness of your bed. Eyes inevitably shutting closed, you tell yourself as you do every night — I’m only resting my eyes, I'm not gonna sleep…

The next day, to your surprise, you had woken up from the most restful sleep that you’ve had in months. A small thought nagged at the back of your mind that it had something to do with the Mandalorian’s sudden appearance, but you instantly dismissed what you believed was an irrational thought, as you went and got ready for the day. 

Eventually making your way to Kuiil’s, you find yourself witnessing quite a sight before you.

The Mandalorian was being promptly thrown off the blurrg he had been trying to mount for what could've been for the majority of the morning, and you almost felt bad for him. It had been just as bad for you when Kuiil had first coerced you to learn. The mere thought of that time brought shivers down your spine — the countless bumps and bruises you had endured and the mud that clung to every inch of your body was something that was not to be remembered fondly.

As you dismount from your own blurrg, Kuiil greets you with a wave and shouts at the bounty hunter currently on the ground in a starfish position, “Perhaps if you removed your helmet...”

“Perhaps he remembers I tried to roast him.” He grunts out.

Kuiil corrects him, “This is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.”

The Mandalorian just shakes his head and proceeds to get up for another attempt, when he notices you. His shoulders tensing, seemingly self conscious all of a sudden. You walk over to stand beside your neighbor, arms crossed and see the Mandalorian square his shoulders, only to be thrown off once again. You could feel the string of curses going loudly through his metal head.

“I don’t have time for this,” he says impatiently, “do you have a Landspeeder or Speeder bike that I could hire?” He walks over to the two of you. “You are a Mandalorian. Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. Surely you could ride this young foal.” Kuiil insists.

He looks over to you like you could somehow help his situation, but you can only raise your brows at him in question as you tip your head in the direction of the blurrg with an encouraging purse of your lip.

He looks between you and the blurrg one last time before trying again. He stalks her slowly, easing her with relaxed words. Approaching her with a newfound determination, you sense the connection formed between the two and are pleasantly surprised when the Mandalorian successfully mounts and rides the blurrg. 

You nod in acknowledgement and you are about to leave to get to work when Kuiil stops you, “Come with us to the encampment. I am in need of your services.”

“What services?” You ask, eyes narrowed. He never asks you to accompany him and whichever bounty hunter that wanted a shot at getting the quarry that day.

“For protection of course. Can’t have an old Ugnaught alone with a scary bounty hunter, right?” Kuiil speaks in a light tone.

“Fine.” You accept begrudgingly, Kuiil always appealing to your slightly protective tendencies.

“Do you have with you your blaster?”

“Of course.” You never leave anywhere without it.

And so the three of you rode off, the two of them in front with you following in tow. It took a journey to get there, but you finally arrived. The three of you, side by side, looked down at the camp when Kuiil states, “That is where you will find your quarry.”

The Mandalorian then tries to offer him payment but he refuses with a shake of his head, “Since these ones arrived, this territory has been an endless stream of mercenaries seeking reward and bringing destruction.” You frown at that.

“Then why did you bring me?”

“They don’t belong here,” you spoke directly to the Mandalorian for the second time since he’s arrived, “The people that live here come to seek peace and there will be no peace until they’re gone.” He stares at you for a moment.

“Then why do you help?” He looks between you and Kuiil.

“I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only read the stories. If they are true, you and my friend will make quick work of it. Then there will again be peace.” You snap your head to your friend looking for an explanation, only for Kuiil to turn to leave, “Kuiil.” 

He looks back at you with much finality and resolve “I have spoken.” And just like that, you are left with the Mandalorian. You scoff at the absurdity of it all, “Maker, I hate when he says that.” 

“It’s alright, I don’t need your help. I can do this job on my own.” He says, trying to be as polite as possible while you both get off of your blurrgs. You were quiet for a moment. He didn’t need you? You brushed off the light ache in your chest, he was just another bounty hunter passing through, it wasn’t like you knew him very well — so why was it bothering you so much? The feeling slowly dissipated, but was then quickly replaced by a feeling akin to being splashed in the face with cold water. Nostalgia poured over you from the slightest presence that you could only guess was coming from the encampment. It was a presence familiar to you, often felt when in close proximity to other force sensitives.

Your brows went from furrowed to raised, “Oh, really?” You say, suddenly amused as you glance over to the camp, “I mean — I suppose you're right. But, what would you do if, let’s say, another bounty hunter was here out on the same job as you?”

You could just see the gears turning in his metal head, clearly confused, until he snapped his head over to the encampment and took out his scope to find that you were not talking about a hypothetical situation, but you were talking about what you were seeing.

He sighs in frustration, “Droids.” The way in which he spoke that single word had told you a lot. “Do what you want. That IG unit just made this a lot more complicated.”

You only shrug. You had an inkling that the bounty hunter had not wanted the hassle of bringing a stranger along for his job, but you were going to go with him regardless. You wanted to find out whose presence you were feeling. It had to be the quarry who Mando, and all of the others before him were looking for. Remembering the sensation again and you shoved away the dread creeping at your core, and forced yourself to remain indifferent to whatever the outcome. It’s not your problem.

As you both made it down the hill, the faint energy that you felt earlier grew stronger, and it was coming from the heart of the camp. Before you could move any further the Mandalorian stopped you with an outstretched arm. You look at him in question, “He’ll probably shoot because he won’t know I’m with the guild. So stay behind me and you won’t be hit.” You nod, going along with him, “Makes sense.”

And what do you know, he was right. The second Mando made his presence known, the IG unit aimed his blaster to his chest with an unnatural quickness. Time slows down and focusing solely on your breathing, you feel the outcome already. Hearing the click of the trigger so clearly, grabbing him by the arm, and before Mando could be hit, you immediately shifted his body closer to you, the shot just missing him. 

He was seemingly stunned for a moment, his back just centimeters away from your chest, and the close proximity making him unable to think. But, he quickly recovered, remembering what he was here for.

“I’m in the Guild!”

“You are a Guild member? I thought I was the only one on assignment.”

“That makes two of us,” he says as he motions for you to follow him to a nearby wall as cover, “so much for the element of surprise. And thanks.” He turns to you, "You, you have… very good reflexes.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You said briefly, wanting the topic to be forgotten.

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.” Well, isn’t this droid annoying.

“Unless I’m mistaken, you are, as of yet, empty-handed.” The IG unit seems to recognize its predicament and willingly agrees to split the reward. 

“— I require an answer if I am to proceed.” While the bounty hunters are busy defining the terms of the agreement, spotting movement from the corner of your eye, you swifty brought out your blaster and shot him, causing him to fall off of the building. “If you guys are done, I think we should get going ~ “ You say in a singsong manner as you walk away, drawing closer to the source of the energy.

You look back to see someone sneak up behind the Mandalorian and without wasting any time you shoot them, the blast just missing the side of his metallic head. He sends his thanks with a nod of his helmet and you continue forward until the tracking fob leads the three of you to a large door. While you’re constantly getting shot at, the IG unit provides good cover for the two of you to get closer, only to find that the door just so happened to be locked. Now you’re surrounded with no way out unless you can somehow get the door open, “ — I will initiate self-destruct sequencing.” The droid suddenly states and both yours and Mando’s head snaps in its direction. “Whoa, you’re what?” 

“Manufacturer's Protocol dictates I cannot be captured. I must self-destruct.”

“Do not self-destruct!” Mando orders.

“Yeah. How about we don’t do that.” You try and say as convincingly as possible to a suicidal droid. 

“Cover me!” You and the IG do what Mando says as he tries what he can to get the doors to open. You’re getting overwhelmed by the heavy blaster fire and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll need to use more than just your blaster. “How’s it going over there?” You shout.

“Go! Go! There’s too many!” He shouts back as he runs to stand beside the droid. You guys continue to return fire but they have you pinned. Through the dust you see the mercenaries bring out a larger weapon. 

You try to get their attention, “Guys?”—“I will initiate self-destruct.”—“Do not self-destruct! We’re shooting our way out.” Mando says not hearing you, as he went around the wall to start shooting.

“Guys!” You repeat. “What!” They finally saw the gun you were warning them about, “Okay,” Mando said as they both quickly returned to their place behind the wall. “New plan!”

You were done with this. Cowering behind a wall, with nothing but a meager blaster at hand — your impatience was painfully obvious. “Argh! Draw their fire! l got this!” You were done waiting and as soon as that blaster rifle turned, you left your position and reached your hand out, grabbing the gunman and launching him up into a wall. “Go!” You shout at Mando because he was just staring at you and he eventually snaps himself out of it and gains control of the rifle to use their own weapon against them. 

You guys continued firing until you finally got rid of them all. By the time you were finished, your heart was beating rapidly in your chest from the adrenaline. From the thrill. You had missed the feeling of wielding the force, the years in hiding and fear of attracting unwanted attention to yourself, prevented you from using the full extent of your powers. The force gave you a sense of comfort and you felt whole again. It made sense for you to feel fulfilled, your relationship with the force being closely utilized for the training you had undergone ever since you were just a child. Combat. Bloodshed. These were integral parts of your character — your livelihood. It was your damn purpose for existing. 

It was already unnatural for you to settle, to be without action and this just cemented the fact that this was not the life for you. Was this why Kuiil had been so adamant for you to help the Mandalorian with his job? For you to realize this?

Collecting yourself with a deep breath, you rejoined the bounty hunters. “You okay?” The Mandalorian sounded concerned about your prolonged absence.

You lightly nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, now we just need to get the door open,” you heard Mando say, “uh, do you think you could do something about that?” Oh. He was asking you.

“Yeah. I think I could work something out.” You respond straight faced, with only the slightest hint of amusement in your voice.

Raising your hand in front of the large door, you manipulated the metal like it was merely a piece of paper. The whine of metal crushing pierced through the air and you pushed it to the side, leaving a gaping hole in your wake. Your steps halt, noticing neither bounty hunters following in step with you, “Um, you coming?” Not understanding that you’ve just displayed a literal inhuman amount of power like it was nothing.

Only the droid replies mechanically, “That is physically impossible. I must inquire how you are able to perform such —” “Nope. Not happening.” You did not have enough patience today to be interrogated by a bounty droid. “Are you gonna get this bounty or not?” You look at the ever-so-still Mandalorian at your side, eyebrows raised. The tin can looks like he just blew a fuse and appears to also want to ask a question about your unusual abilities, but thinks better of it, “Yeah.”

Amidst the settling dust, you sensed a lone mercenary holed up in the corner and you step inside first, seemingly checking out some random boxes. You knew what the mercenary would do before he even did it. It was a little show all in good fun, a little game that you liked to play with people who would wish you harm. Feigning ignorance to their advances, and when they so foolishly believe they caught you by surprise, you turn at the perfect moment to see their confidence fall, and see themselves fall at your hand as well.

But what you didn’t account for, was the Mandalorian making quick work of the mercenary and you couldn't deny that he piqued your interest. Was he that important of a mercenary to show up in your dreams? When not a single one of the previous mercenaries ever showed up in your visions, what was so special about this one?

You thanked him and he nodded in response, “Anyone else?” He announces for anyone willing to try and get in our way, only for silence to be returned.

“The tracking fob is still active. My sensors indicate that there is a life form present.” The droid says as the three of you begin to walk towards where the tracking fob’s beeping beats faster and faster with each step you take.

As much as you wanted to head directly towards the source of energy that has been poking at your psyche for the past 40 minutes, you decide it's best for Mando to find the bounty for himself. It is his job after all, nothing that has to do with you. You kicked away your curiosity and reminded yourself that whatever - whoever you find here is just a quarry and nothing else.

The beeping intensifies as it leads Mando to a hovering pram. As he opens it, your breath stalls at what you see next. Two long, furry green ears peeking out of a tattered brown cloth. This couldn’t be the bounty…

“Wait — they said 50 years old.”

“Species age differently. Perhaps it could live many centuries.” The child coos softly as if it had just woken up. “Sadly, we’ll never know.” The IG unit says as it raises its blaster directed to the child. But the Mandalorian stops it with a hand, “No. We’ll bring it in alive.”

But the droid persists, “The commission was quite specific. The asset was to be terminated—” 

Thump. Steam rises from the entry blasts coming out of its head. Simultaneously, thhe pair of you return your blasters into its holsters, “So predictable…” you sigh. The two of you glance at each other in a shared understanding, before redirecting your attention to the quarry. 

“So… this is who all of those bounty hunters were looking for?”

“Yes, but… I didn't know it would be a child.” He responds rather hesitantly.

Keeping your hands at your sides, you watch as the bounty hunter tasked with bringing this quarry to his employers, reaches his gloved hand out to this child and the child also reaches for him.

♡ next chapter →

series taglist: @aheadfullofsteverogers

thirdyear!izuku would be the type of guy to sneak into your dorm, and (demand) ask if you can sneak out with him. he'd take you floating above the buildings, beyond it, and he'd trap you in his arms until you force him to return to the dorms---just so neither of you will get caught---he'd follow you (because entirely, he's still izuku, and izuku will always follow through what he's told), open your dorm window, sleep on your bed until someone knocks, telling you how late it is, that you've missed the first period and and and—

Star Wars finally using the twin trope to its fullest advantage: mistaken identity, one good one evil, full-bodied telepathy, one impersonating the other, and having the same actor play both.

sorry for the lack of art. have this 2 month old piece that i still adore to this day (UNCLE BOBA FOR THE WIN)(it's ok if u guys ship them tho i don't mind :D)

“Please, let him be soft. I know you made him with gunmetal bones and wolf’s teeth. I know you made him to be a warrior a soldier a hero. But even gunmetal can warp and even wolf’s teeth can dull and I do not want to see him break the way old and worn and overused things do. I do not want to see him go up in flames the way all heroes end up martyrs. I know that you will tell me that the world needs him. The world needs his heart and his faith and his courage and his strength and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and his– The world needs anything he will give them. Damn the world, and damn you too. Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him, damn anyone that ever took anything from him, damn anyone that ever prayed to his name. You know that he will give them everything until there is nothing left of him but the imprint of dust where his feet once trod. You know that he will bear the world like Atlas until his shoulders collapse and his knees buckle and he is crushed by all he used to carry. Dear God, you have already made an Atlas. You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes. So please, I beg you– he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, and let him be mine.”

— Please, let him be happy ( j.p. )

thinking about this poem by noor hindi today.

(donate to palestine here)

“girl math girl dinner girl rot why did girls fight for rights now I have to go to my 9/5 embrace your femininity born to be silly forced to be in stem there’s no reason not to have your nails done don’t smile it’ll create wrinkles be a trad wife I was born to stay home and cook every girls Roman Empire is to be skinny” I am hunting you down with a bat stop fucking infantilizing stop generalizing stop labeling stop boxing us all up into niches and cores and mood boards. can we not just exist………can we CAN WE????