Percy Saying "i'm Sally Jackson's Son!" Is So........ It Squeezes My Heart So Much. And I Get It I Get

let us not forget that it is not only gaza that is suffering. please remember to pray for congo, sudan and the refugees of afghanistan whose struggles are not being shown to us. just because we cannot see, does not mean it isn't happening.

Actually, I think it's okay. It's fine like this.

She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 / 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐀 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x gn!winged!Reader

outline —; Confessing to Wednesday Addams is... something else.

word count —: 2.3k

WARNINGS —: cursing, SUGGESTIVE, LIKE VERY.

themes / tags —: reader is gender-neutral. divina is non-binary.

A/N: reblogs and comments are appreciated. there are some other fics i wanted to write for wednesday. have some gender-neutral divina and reader as dorm mates! and some wings too, may i add. enjoy :)

There is no number or word that can describe love. The only way to describe it is to feel it. To be in it. Similarly, love isn’t a never ending circle, going around and saying the same thing. For centuries, science has explained it too – the love for friends, the love for lovers, the love for parents, the love for certain objects. 

In history, the Greeks have words for love. Sitting in history lessons in one of the many rooms in Nevermore, your wings folded, your eyes staring directly at the board, as the teacher spoke. A school mate, similar to you with wings of down feathers, smiled in your direction, staring intently. 

Some didn’t seem to care about the knowledge they’re learning, some were confused (one of them being you, though, you were just ecstatic that all these people were learning that love isn’t just love). Some were guilty – you knew because you felt them, you felt that they never ‘love’ the way it is expected. 

“Ludus is the playful form of love. This may describe your type of romance; teasing, flirting, and teenage love.” The teacher explained, dragging her tone through the room, the class is quiet, accepting the new form of knowledge into their minds. 

The first period class really had you smiling. A swelled understandment filled your stomach as if it was thirsty for affection and attention. Who knew the Greeks could understand you? In ways more than one. Besides its occasional tales of myths and legends (that you personally indulge in, though too embarrassed to say anything about it), you were surprised that this knowledge is never passed down unto society. 

Only ‘friendship’ and ‘love’ were understood. If the normies altogether had a voice they would probably say; What else is there to it? 

The thought made you snicker. Hours passed; preoccupied students were busy shuffling the hallways, getting ready for the falling night. You watched through the infirmary window as the courtyard emptied out. “You bird!” The nurse called, looking at you with wide eyes. This did not surprise you but it did make you jump in your chair, your feathers in alert mode as you felt ants seeping through your skin. “I told you, this girl, here,” She pointed to Yoko, who snickered in response, hiding her laughter. “She is okay! No need to crowd this place! Look at your wings- Giant!” She reached her hand out, pinching a feather, making you hiss in staggerment. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m just worried about my friend.” You said, cowering out of the door, waving Yoko a goodbye before she could touch the ends of your feathers too. You huffed, wings fluttering in a shiver. The thumping of your own boots thundered in your ears, silencing any form of thoughts that raced through your mind. Silencing the outside world for a while, walking to your dorm subconsciously. 

For a moment, you ceased in a quiet hallway, contemplating whether to comfort Enid in her time of distress. Pending for a second that your wings enclosed in a relaxed position, folding itself. I don’t need to think about this situation, you mentally facepalmed. 

You headed to your dorm, waving a slight hello to Divina. They didn’t let you pass the window though, blocking your view of the outside world before you could fly out. Worry flooded their eyes as they frantically blurted out a word. “The nurse wouldn’t let me-”

You intercepted, putting a hand on their shoulder. “Let you see her? Me too but I’ve seen, Tanaka is fine, it’s just an allergic reaction.” You calmly stated, your wings subconsciously wrapping around them into a hug. They wrapped their arms around your shoulders too, unable to decide whether to hold your waist or back. “She’ll be out before you know it.” You pulled away, smiling. 

Divina nodded, stepping out of the window. “Tell me how your confession goes.” They teased, opening their closet and picking out a jacket. They headed to the bathroom. 

You opened the window, searching for Ophelia Hall in the many buildings until your eyes landed on the half-rainbow cobwebbed window. “Not yours to know,” You yelled in a responsive tone, hands on the railing, keeping your body balanced, poking your head out of the cold air. Making sure that no one is watching, you search left to right as if you were checking a road before crossing. “Nightshades again?” You asked, pushing your head in, grabbing a jacket of your own. 

Divina fixed their hair, responding with a nod. “At least look decent, who are you meeting? Enid or Addams?” They blindly asked. 

Disbelief left your mouth as a laugh. You loudly shut your closet, running up to the window, shutting it down as if anyone could hear from your own dorm. “Do you think Wednesday would care what I wear?” You emphasized clearly on her name, grabbing a hair brush. You rubbed the back of your neck before remembering the reason for your arrival at their dorm. “And anyway, I wanted to see Enid, she’s upset because of…” Your voice trailed, realizing that Divina is the person you’re talking to. You didn’t want to upset her any further, though luckily, she was busy adjusting her necklace to even listen to you. 

Divina smiled playfully. “Well, people say she’s allergic to color. But honestly, she’s pulling off the black and white outfits.” They replied, shrugging. The sneakers they wore dragged a rushed sound. Though it stopped when they turned on their heel to face you again. “Yet, here you are, putting no effort into your fits.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes, as you leaned into the mirror. “I’m pretty decent, if you ask me. Or Wednesday.” You happily affirmed. 

Divina shrugged in defeat, waving you off. “Just make sure to be there, Bianca hates you.” 

Shaking your head, you opened the window again, jumping up the railing, spreading your wings. “Tell her the feeling is mutual.” With that, you leaped out, snickering at the response ‘that’s jackshit, Xavier hates you too’, spreading your wings to bring yourself up to the window once more, satisfied that Divina took in the words you most definitely meant. You carefully pulled down the window, leaving a big enough gap for your hands to fit in. 

You flew higher, the cold air reaching your whole body. Jacket or not, the cold bothered you. Though, post-autumn has finally worn out. The start of cold winds were scaring you for the snow. And god, were you thankful that you didn’t have to shovel it all? Yes, of course, you were. 

Your feet landed on the cold ground, as wind slightly pushed you back. You flap your wings in the process, creating a whirlwind that nearly knocked out the musical note stand. Thankfully, you weren’t too far to not catch it and disrupt a loud bang. Cold seeped through your footwarmers, each step you took warmed up your body eventually. Since, you couldn’t fit through the window (credits to the wings you carried), instead, you knocked, poking your head in. 

“Enid!” You called on excitedly, only to find her bed empty, neatly arranged. Your head turned to her roommate’s bed. Next to it is a dissatisfied Wednesday, her hands briefly above the typewriter. “Where is she?” You asked, emphasizing your question even more as you raised a brow. 

Wednesday sighed, standing up from her chair. “Sulking and complaining to Ajax or Divina,” She explained, leading you out of the window by giving your forehead a gentle flick. You mouthed an ‘oh’ shape, knowing where that would lead to. Your mind wandered if Ajax could comfort Enid in such a way, because, knowing him — it would be an easy yet ineffective display, mostly because of his tiny, little serpents. 

The scent of Wednesday Addams attained your senses, though, the spinning of the glass window in front of you distracted it. You can see a new addition to the dorm; a giant detective board, with pictures of disgusting pieces of body parts, it almost made you drop and vomit. Almost, not until Wednesday inquired with a furrowed brow (you could tell); “Why is it your concern?” 

You turned, glancing to the back of her head. Walking up to her was easy, taking mental note not to stand too far nor too close, figuring that Wednesday didn’t like close and intimate proximities. “She was upset that Yoko got an allergic reaction again.” You answered truthfully. You saw her shake gently. A swift chance of courage shook your presence. “I also came here to talk to you actually.” 

Wednesday’s mouth dropped into a firm line, almost frowning. Her solemn face returned, however, when she looked at you. “Make it quick.” She commanded. 

You beamed, wings fluttering in excitement, and Wednesday knew it was going to be a long talk, or night, if you made your move. You propped yourself up at the balcony, sitting comfortably, your eyes straightforward. “Don’t you admire your parent’s love for each other?” 

Wednesday is right, she mentally prepared herself for her own upcoming answer, a tiny voice in her throat buried itself until she gave it full thought. “I do, why?” 

You bit your inner cheeks, nodding to your side, as you cleared your throat. “Their love is called Pragma; long standing love.” Shifting your sentences to something less obvious isn’t something you had me mind. “They might’ve had a friendship too, which is Philia.” 

Wednesday raised her brows, an inquiry isn’t something she’ll speak out in these conversations. But then again, she is an Addams, her opinions most likely matter because of the pressure that she instills on them. “Friendship? Before marriage, there’s… friendship?” She tried not to show the hesitant tone that concluded her sentence, a rushed tone dragged the tension. 

You shook your head in a ‘no’, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Not just before marriage, no. It’s something you have before any type of romance.” Without the knowledge of whose dropping these words but you, yourself, obliged you to speak more. Wednesday seemed confounded in your knowledge, conflict reached blood, as it ran cold. 

The thought of you having experienced a friendship that turned into… whatever her parents had, or, as you called it; Philia and Pragma. She had to admit, bearing that sight is a nightmare. 

Grabbing your wrists, Wednesday stood in front of you, holding your waist as you involuntarily yelped without the support of your hand on the cold marble. Her fingers dug into your side, into your jacket, as her eyes trailed in confusion. The girl in front of you blinked, a stricken flick of anger visible in her expressions. “Have you ever loved someone like that?” Wednesday inquired, glancing up at you, she held your gaze, before averting her own. 

The pacing of your heart quickened, lup-dup, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub. Without the huffed breaths, you would’ve fallen in peace. You were certain Wednesday couldn’t catch you, so you managed to stay alive. Taking a breath and moving closer, inch to inch with Wednesday Addams; nose nuzzled, minty breath of yours, mixed with the scent of… coffee? Something of the sort, you couldn’t tell due to your proximity. “You.” 

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t back away when you stepped in closer, she only closed the gap that accompanied the two of you. Catching your lips into hers, moving in sync with your own. Her other hand accompanied your lower back, rubbing it in circles. Your hands found freedom in her jaw, cold fingers against it, underlining the perfect structure. 

Wednesday pulled away, catching her breath, forehead against yours. She gave your lips another peck, which you reciprocated. Your eyes gently shut, recalling the last of what you could see was Wednesday’s half-shut eyes. A flooding warm of heat pulled your stomach down as she deepened the kiss. 

Ecstasy engulfed you and (hopefully) Wednesday. 

Forgetting that breathing existed is something you would’ve never forgotten, afterall, not after this. You needed air although worry didn’t cross your mind, not once, when this is happening. Nothing could be processed actually. The only thoughts that occupy your mind is Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday. 

You pulled away, chest heaving up and down for breaths, a still laugh erupting from your throat. “Who taught you how to kiss like that?” You asked, cockiness reached your lips, quirking upwards into a smile. You were pulled up with a jerk of her shoulders, diminishing the cruelty that settled on your lips, which were puffy and pink now. 

Wednesday settled in a firm hug, burying her face into your jacket. A quiet sniffle of laughter carefully rolled out of your tongue. She wrinkled her nose, bringing her chin to your shoulders. She responded, bringing her head up. “My parents, they always kiss in front me and my brother.” 

You nodded in understanding, a hum vibrating your chest in response. You closed your eyes in the warmth of her body near you, feeling a tug of your jacket with her fingers. The exposure of your warm, clothed skin to the wind did not make you please. Not until Wednesday’s mouth found closure in your skin, her warm tongue and soft lips sucking on it carefully. 

This made your eyes open in shock, a kept groan couldn’t contain itself, leaving your mouth with no permission. “Addams,” You meekly called, averting your eyes to the side, though, your head jerked up; giving her more skin to attack. “Someone- someone will notice.” You warned, fingers circling her back as an attempt to call after her. 

Wednesday obliged. Though, she smirked at it, noticing the bruise, pulling your jacket back to its place in your neck. A glimpse of visible purple marks accompanied it. An audible groan left your mouth, hiding your face to the side, as your wings wrapped the two of you. “What?” She asked, closely inspecting the wrapped wings that shook slightly. “Be thankful it’s not your lips, it would’ve been far worse.” She concluded. 

Goosebumps overtook your body. Jumping down from your spot, cautious as to not step on Wednesday. You hugged her closely. “What are we now?” 

Wednesday raised a brow, you were sure a tender smile attended her features. “Pragma and Philia, as you said.” 

♡ PLEASE LIKE AND 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

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)

I miss them a bit

SHADOW AND BONE (2021—) 2.08 — No Funerals