The Stranger [Prompt 024A: Void]
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starwars100Title: The Stranger
Prompt: Void
Author: lumiosecity
Rating: Gen
Characters: Grogu, Din Djarin
Pairing: N/A
Star Wars Media Property:
Word count: 200
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor implications of child abuse, canon-typical. No spoilers for anything ongoing.
Summary: Grogu knows better than to trust the stranger. Still, he's running out of options, so hope will have to be enough.
Grogu knows that this stranger isn’t trustworthy. He knows it with all the air in his little lungs, with the very Force thrumming through his bones– the air is thick with static, with fear, with warning.
No one who cloaks himself away from the Force can be trusted, not anymore. The shine of his armor and the gleam of his weapons are one and the same, a method of hiding, of destruction. His entire being is the rattle of a serpent in the grass, a threat signal that gleams in the sun.
Grogu knows it would be a bad idea to trust this stranger, the same way he knows it’s a bad idea to make too much noise—to make any noise at all—or to be seen where he is not meant to be seen.
Try as he might, he can’t muster up anything but panic so all-consuming that it wraps around into peace. There is nothing he can do at this point but trust, isn’t there?
The galaxy is frightening.
The stranger is frightening.
Yet Grogu still reaches up a little claw, staring into the endless void of that visor and hoping beyond hope to find warmth waiting behind it.
Prompt: Void
Author: lumiosecity
Rating: Gen
Characters: Grogu, Din Djarin
Pairing: N/A
Star Wars Media Property:
Word count: 200
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor implications of child abuse, canon-typical. No spoilers for anything ongoing.
Summary: Grogu knows better than to trust the stranger. Still, he's running out of options, so hope will have to be enough.
Grogu knows that this stranger isn’t trustworthy. He knows it with all the air in his little lungs, with the very Force thrumming through his bones– the air is thick with static, with fear, with warning.
No one who cloaks himself away from the Force can be trusted, not anymore. The shine of his armor and the gleam of his weapons are one and the same, a method of hiding, of destruction. His entire being is the rattle of a serpent in the grass, a threat signal that gleams in the sun.
Grogu knows it would be a bad idea to trust this stranger, the same way he knows it’s a bad idea to make too much noise—to make any noise at all—or to be seen where he is not meant to be seen.
Try as he might, he can’t muster up anything but panic so all-consuming that it wraps around into peace. There is nothing he can do at this point but trust, isn’t there?
The galaxy is frightening.
The stranger is frightening.
Yet Grogu still reaches up a little claw, staring into the endless void of that visor and hoping beyond hope to find warmth waiting behind it.
