#GROGU HAS A TWIN

[sol-insidious]

What if we were Funko Pop! Star Wars - The Mandalorian #461 and #482 and we were DinLuke-ing

(no background version and my IRL bobble dads below)

nyeheheheh

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #dinluke #skydalorian #grogu #funko pop #clan of three #clan of four technically #GROGU HAS A TWIN #Mr. Funko please hire me so I can make your bobbleheads gay #this was so much fun to draw after my brutal hell stats midterm #It's been a hot minute since I've drawn something this detailed #ONCE AGAIN THE NON-BINARY URGE TO MAKE THIS A STANDEE IS KICKING HARD #but I literally have no idea how and I sure as hell can't sell shit from my dorm room :'( #literally if you have those kinds of resources DM me for the image file just mail me one too pls #sol draws the space gays

[dawnsing]

Local 50ish year old scammed Jedi Master

#star wars #luke skywalker #grogu #r2d2 #my art #leia organa #luke and grogu #skywalker twins #the mandalorian #uhhh so 2 years with luke huh #Luke loves grogu and all but he has NO IDEA what he’s doing #and ​grogu taking full advantage of that #also bcus din don’t spoon feed him in the show

[coruscantrhapsody]

What’s the over/under on Force Ghosts Anakin and Padmé watching Luke rescue Grogu like YOU’RE DOING GREAT, SWEETIE

#Padme gets to be a force ghost in my head #the twins are so force sensitive they passed on a little force sensitivity as a treat #Anakin looks at Grogu like HOLY SHIT I ALMOST KILLED HIM #so glad he survived my massacre ;___; #Padme has to hold his hand #omg Luke is so good at rescuing people his dad tried to kill #including his dad #my feelings escalated quickly #Grogu #the Mandalorian #anidala #eternal padme #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #luke skywalker

[padawansuggest]

The post war Cody and Kenobi household is as follows:

Boga

Boba, Fennec and Din, whom they found in a dumpster and took pity on. Din stole Grogu so that’s actually HIS kid thankyew

Padawan Reva, she bites because she’s learning all of Kenobi’s worst habits, but she also cuddles and steals cookies. BFFs with Fennec and they practice weapons together. The boys cuddle and do each other’s nails.

Two cadets that Cody and Obi-Wan decided to adopt after the war, they call themselves twins, their names are Taco and Bell and no they are not taking criticisms at the moment they WILL cry on you

Wooley, Cody’s first baby. Rex was a little brother from the beginning but Wooley is an infant baby who deserves a cuddle. Cody will not take criticisms about that he WILL cry on you.

Waxer and Boil crashed back into their lives with Numa about 6 months after they adopted her and now they’re being very useful in helping take care of all these damn kids.

Three lothcats that all have the exact same fur pattern, it took Obi-Wan about two weeks to realize they in fact, have three cats, not one. He found this out while Cody was in the shower one morning and Obi-Wan woke up to all three of them on him or napping against him. Cody came out of the shower and nearly went right back in when he realized he’d been found out. Turns out he needn’t worry, as the orange lothcats are getting along with his orange riduur very well. They’re creating a no-braincells club only for other orange idiots. Everyone else in this goddamn house other than Boga and Grogu and Numa is a brunet so no one else is allowed to join. The twins wanna dye their hair but they want pink and blue so they can’t join either.

That spider in the corner that everyone to too afraid to deal with stays with them for a while till Grogu stumbles upon it and eats it.

Anyways. This is my new fave idea. Cody and Obi keep adopting kids and animals so Anakin can’t ask them to babysit his terrors. Obi-Wan would love to babysit them but Cody is afraid of Leia cause after she starts speaking it’s VERY clear she is some sort of evil little mind reader. Obi-Wan has decided she’ll be his next Padawan. Him and Reva spoil her.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #commander cody #Obi is the only orange boy in this house till those cats come along #he was feelin out of place #codywan #post clone wars

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.3

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.4

Welcome to part 3 of my madness as I continue to take inspiration from scenes in the movie. This is when Din get's a full view of Luke's scars (and is caught looking) not long after the drift compatibility tryouts. He still doesn't know of their origins, but he might find out soon 👀👀👀 (More info under the cut if you're interested).

Anyways, hope my insanity entertains y'all! There's still plenty more to come and perhaps even more in the works.

P.S. All the love that this idea has been shown has been a great motivator for me to work on the fic. So thank you to everyone who's interacted with these posts and have shown their interest. Glad to know I'm not alone in being interested in a niche ship and a 10 year old movie crossover.

More info about Luke's Scars: It starts with part of the timeline I've formulated.

2027 - Luke becomes a pilot with Biggs.

January, 2028 - Death of Paz; Birth of Grogu; Din leaves the Jaeger program

August, 2028 - Death of Biggs; Luke is injured;

2029 - Leia becomes a pilot and is Luke's new partner 

So, essentially Luke joined the program very young (17) while Leia was still studying politics with the Organas. Biggs was Luke's drift partner and they piloted together for a year.

The destruction of Razor Crest and the death of Paz/disappearance of Din marked the turning point for the Jaeger program. Not long after that incident the Jaegers were struggling to fight back against the onslaught of Kaiju. More frequent attacks along with higher category Kaiju started to wear them thin.

In a particularly dicey situation, Luke and Biggs were deployed on their own to deal with a CATIII Kaiju while backup was on the way. Despite how skilled the two were, the Kaiju overwhelmed them before backup could come and their Con Pod was ripped from their Jaeger. The damage caused an energy serge through the pilot suits causing Luke to get his scars. Those injuries, plus the ones from getting tossed onto shore, also resulted in Bigg's death.

After hearing about this, and while Luke was recovering. Leia decided to join the program and began her training. By the time Luke was recovered she was graduating cadet school and they were able to pilot together. It took some time for Luke to get used to piloting again after being connected to someone who died, but he trained himself to feel the serenity in the drift and keep those memories at bay. Luke's control while in the drift is next to no one except maybe Anakin, but he hasn't piloted in a long time, so it's hard to say.

Speaking of Anakin, he isn't supper happy about his children being pilots, but there wasn't much he could do to dissuade them. After Padme's death during a Kaiju attack, and Anakin subsequently blaming himself for it, he threw himself into the program. He wasn't able to raise the twins because he was on duty so they were raised by Owen and Beru as well as mentored by the Organas (mostly Leia).

Leia is resentful of Anakin for leaving them when they were so young and had just lost their mother. Luke mostly blames himself in an unreasonable way and thinks he wasn't worth enough for Anakin to stick around. The reason Anakin did leave was so he could try to stop the Kaiju and make the world safe for his kids. However, in the process, he may have lost the time he could have had with them.

#dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #art #fanfic #fanfiction #the mandalorian #dinluke fanart #dinluke au #pacific rim au #leia organa #tru's dinluke pacific rim au

[gingerlurk]

Honey

Din Djarin x f!Reader

A Lovers' Crest one-shot (Here's its Masterlist)

Summary: You and the Mandalorian hatch a plan to trap an elusive bounty. And Din Djarin absolutely hates it. Until he doesn't.

[Or, the characters from Lovers' Crest have a little post-story adventure! Can be read standalone.]

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pwp, unprotected piv (be safe), creampie, semi-public sex, (there's an unconscious guy in the room), established relationship, Din lifts you but damn he is a strong strong man, Reader described: wearing a dress, heels, having longish hair, does a lil pole dance. I know this isn't how a 'honey pot' situation works but oh well it's just a bit of fun.

A/N: What's this? It's the first fic I ever wrote. Posted to AO3 in June last year. No idea if it's anything anymore, but it dragged me out of a desperate writing slump - and led me to write the longer fic - so I will always feel affection for it.

--

‘No.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘I said no!’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t like it. It’s not a good idea.’

‘It’s a great idea. And… all we’ve got.’

So, Din Djarin sits in an upscale-style club sharing a table with Mythrol mobster Earl Gorstrik. 

The crime boss has been an elusive target for months, and a royal headache for Greef Karga. Taking out shipments of essentials, extorting construction projects and all manner of agency rackets, Gorstrik’s activities had pushed poor old Greef into upping the reward to nearly double.

‘Just get this fucker out of my business, please,’ Greef had begged him last time they’d dropped into town.

Then you had proposed an idea that had set his blood to boil, a constant roll that continued to this very moment. He’d remained unconvinced by the whole plan, but especially by your assertion that you would be sure to ‘really make it worth his while’. Din is dubious.

He doesn’t even get to have Grogu for company. This is not a child-friendly mission.

Gorstrik is yammering in his ear.

‘Seriously, Mando,’ he slurs. ‘I’m so glad a man of your calibre recognises the value of partnering with my… endeavours…’

Din is barely taking it in. Why are these types always so verbose? He mutters something about ‘needing to expand prospects’ and that sets the mob boss off to wax lyrical about property scams.

Din swears he’s going to ditch this whole, terrible attempt, when the music pounding in every corner of the place transitions to one of heavy bass and soaring synths.

Earl Gorstrik slaps at Din’s shoulder. ‘Oh excellent! It’s starting. Ever been to one of these Mando? No, bet not. Haha! Sit back and enjoy!’

Lights dance on the raised catwalk that dominates the middle of the room. Long, shiny polls descend from above, dropping within arm’s reach of the stage. A tall, lovely twi’lek female struts into view. Skin-tight body suit and stratospheric pumps. She reaches up to a poll and spins, smiling at the whooping and hollering rising from the patronage.

A short, sultry routine ends as the poll she holds rises back toward the ceiling. Din follows it, and her, up to spy the lofted gang plank that vanishes into an upper area.

Gorstrik leans into Din’s space.

‘You like that?’ he breathes. ‘Best part? If you spot someone you really like, you can arrange your own little meeting. Heh, up there,’ he points to the disappearing legs of the performer. ‘Just wave down a tender.’

Two human males saunter to neighbouring polls. They look to be twins. A stunning display of athleticism and strength concludes as they too rise upwards. Din spots several hands frantically waving at the establishment’s staff.

Fed up, Din is about to take his leave – to go find you – when a vision walks onto the stage and sucks all the air from his lungs. He’s locked rigid in his seat and his cock swells so fast it’s almost painful.

An adept lighting droid starts with revealing a pair of black, luxurious stilettos that step with languid grace down the catwalk. Silhouetted legs are shown to be bare as they curve up, all the way up – impossibly far – to the hem of a scant black dress. Deliciously tight and hugging every single curve.

Reaching the pole at the very end of the stage, the vision twists to face away from the crowd and is lit up all at once. The Mandalorian’s eyes are wide and his mouth has fallen open behind his helmet, made utterly transfixed by what he’s seeing onstage.

Glossy hair cascades over bare shoulders, swishing gently as you turn back to the crowd with a flourish. Your glittering eyes lock onto Din’s visor for a split second and he fair nearly blows his load then and there. 

You take hold of the pole and give a single lazy spin, letting Din’s eyes roam every inch of you. Then you slide down the pole some and spin again, extending your legs so the sides of your knees and shins skim the flooring. 

A few of these rotations before you tuck your long legs under you to stand for a moment. You make one swaying motion to put momentum into the pole and swing yourself up, using a turn away from the audience to open your legs, kick up and cross them to lock over the pole. 

With your lush thighs riding the cool metal, you lean back and extend an arm out to the audience, gazing upside down into the pulsing darkness.

You let the pole drift back to stillness, allowing every set of eyes in the place drink in your figure, bust heaving, hair falling below you and swaying. Then you swing your upper body upwards, grasp the pole and drop your hips so your legs release out into open air and propel it all into a renewed twist. 

After a moment, you plant your heels and the pole lowers with you as you sink into a narrow squat, facing away from the audience, which is by this time splitting the air with pitched screams and shouts.

You look over your shoulder with mischief in your eyes and the whole place goes ballistic.

The pole begins to rise and you move with it to stand. You let it slip along your figure, waiting until it is moving past your head to slide your arms around it and lift from the floor. It is given to look as if you’re floating on air, still twirling and giving an exquisite 360 view of your legs.

As you vanish into the loft, Din’s reverie is interrupted by a waving hand next to him.

He turns, Gorstrik is beside himself. A frenzy of other hands bat at the air, but Din’s table companion always gets first flush.

‘God damn,’ he exerts. ‘What a show. You do not get enough of that type of cream around here anymore.’

Din fights to quell the incredible urge to rip this pig’s head clean off his shoulders. He channels it all into issuing the slightest shrug he can manage. Gorstrik scoffs.

‘Suit yourself, man,’ he stands. ‘I’m getting my ass a front row seat to the encore. M’sorry, Mando you understand. Particulars can be worked out with my second here.’ He gives a vague wave to the pinch-faced twit next to him and scurries toward the elevator.

Din seethes.

Your voice crackles in his helmet, whisper quiet.

‘Staff access is on the residential side, basic hatch code to get in. Stairs, then make a left. My booth is second along.’

He makes a grouchy show of ‘only doing business with the actual boss’ before leaving the irate lieutenant at the table.

He stalks onto the street and rounds the building to the alleyway that connects the red-light district to the high-density worker housing. Spotting the door you described, he makes short work and slips inside. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he’s trying to concentrate and stop his mind wandering to all the ways this could go wrong.

Could be going wrong.

Why has he let you be alone with this scumbag. That was incredible. What if you’re not quick enough. Hells, fuck! Where had you learned that? What if… So fucking sexy. Why didn’t he just… Maker but that was incredible. He follows your directions and slaps the booth’s open panel.

The door slides across to reveal the scene. A small, velvet-lined room. One long bench against the far wall with a floor to ceiling one-way window looking out over the club floor. Your back is to the door and you’re settled in that narrow squat again, heels spiked into the floor, nimbly cuffing the unconscious Gorstrik, who is sprawled out by a drinks stand.

‘Just in time,’ you say. You peak over your shoulder at Din and slowly, agonisingly, start to rise up. Knees straighten first, keeping yourself bent at the waist. Ass on full display, the hem of your dress has ridden up to show just a hint of cheek. Finally, you lift your torso and turn toward him, something droll to say on the tip of your tongue.

You don’t get the chance. Din has kicked the door hatch closed and barrelled into you. Hands grip your waist first, pushing you back into the wall, then reach down to lift your knees to lock them at his sides. Holding you up, he paws at your ass.

‘Where’d you get this dress,’ he growls into your ear, letting you loop your arms across his shoulders and use the purchase to grind yourself against his erection.

‘Boutique in the main square,’ you mutter, eyes already closed and focused on lust. ‘Only used some of the advance.’

‘It’s obscene.’

‘Mmm, I don’t have to keep it.’ You rub the front of the dress against his chest plate, pushing your breasts into the firm pressure. ‘Could turn it to scrap for engine cleaning,’ you tease.

‘Absolutely not,’ he grinds out. He rubs at your thighs until the dress inches up, exposing your soaking panties. ‘This dress,’ he grunts. ‘This dress is for me now. You’ll wear it for me.’

‘Fuh—Fuck,’ you huff. ‘Thought you’d like it.’

‘Mmm, so fucking divine,’ he keens. He leans back a little. ‘Help me out here, love. Get this cock out for me.’

You reach a hand down and fumble with buckles and garment until you can push his pants low enough for his screaming hard on to bounce free. You immediately move your hand and tug the edge of your underwear aside.

‘Now Din,’ you moan, looking down. ‘Fuck me n— ah!’ He sheaths himself home in one go, piercing you to the wall. 

Hips sitting flush, Din trembles at your tight walls stretching and fluttering around him. He lets you adjust. ‘Oh fuck, so ready for me. That performance of yours get you just as worked up as me, did it?’

Humming an affirmative, you reach up to brace your elbows on top of each pauldron, locking your hands together behind his helmet and nuzzling your face into his neck. Like this, you can tilt your hips back and forth to grind into where you two are connected, his pelvis making a perfect surface to work at your aching clit.

It’s so goddamn sensual when you use him like this.

He holds onto your ass and helps you along by lifting you up with each one of your thrusts, creating a harsher connection each time. You writhe and work yourself against him, legs shaking with effort.

‘Din, Din,’ you lift your head with a gasp. He watches your eyes screw shut and your mouth fall open to release harsh, pained puffs of air. You’re so close, he can see it. You press your face into the sharp curve of his helmet and whisper, ‘Din, tell me t--’

‘Come for me, mesh’la,’ he snarls into your ear. ‘Do it, come now.’

You cry out and smack your head back against the wall. Din loses himself in your blissed out features. In the feel of your legs spasming around him, tightening muscles drawing aching throbs out of his cock. You push your hips in tiny little circles to suck down every drop of your climax. ‘That’s it, beautiful. That’s perfect,’ he murmurs to you. ‘You’re perfect.’ 

Huffing harsh breaths, you open your eyes and smile at him. 

He pulls out of you and takes your quivering legs from around his middle, dropping them to plant your heels on the floor. Then he pushes off the wall, spinning you to face the bench and bending you over. A heavy boot nudges at your ankles to spread them apart. He’s back inside you in one intense thrust of his cock.

This position affords you the view through the one-way window, so you’re both looking down at the bustling bar floor. 

Din begins to move, barely letting any room between your bodies as he grinds hard and deep. You shuffle your feet wider to give him even more. He chokes out a groan.

‘When you were on that stage,’ he hisses from behind, hands in a bruising grip on your hips. ‘Fuck, when you were up there, everyone down there wanted you.’ He sees your head turn to roam over the crowd, you look over your shoulder again at him, eyes unfocused and lustful.

‘Oh yeah?’ you say, hands sliding a little on the bench with your movements. ‘All of them?’

‘Every. Single. One.’ He punctuates each strangled word with a harsh, deep thrust. ‘Wishing they were here now. Wishing they could have you like this, know the feel of your clenching pussy. Sucking me in so hard, can- can barely pull myself- out…’   

He grips a fistful of your dress and uses the leverage to drag himself back before pistoning into you again. The obscene sounds of your slick flesh pumping against each other fill the air.

He’s so deep he can feel the pressure building within you again right as you slam your fingers hard against your clit, letting the friction of his furious thrusts carry you over the edge into another orgasm.

‘Fuuuuck,’ you both groan in unison. He loops an arm across your front and slings you up, back flush to his chest as he drives up into you. His rhythm is starting to falter, the haze of pleasure reaching toward unbearable. You know what he needs and how to bring him over the edge with you. He trusts.

‘But none of them can have me,’ you gasp. ‘Only you. Only you- know- this- pussy, Din.’ The final words are accompanied by the last few slams of his hips as he spills inside you with another strangled moan. He feels, as always, like his soul is being sucked from him and drained into you. It goes on for an age, wave on wave as you squeeze and clench around him. He finally slows.

His hand moves from your chest up to cup your face, fingers sifting through the hair at your shoulder.

As he huffs deep breaths into his helmet, you squeeze again and he gasps in near pain.

‘N-n, please mesh’la, you’re gonna kill me.’

‘Mm, sorry, thought you liked “the feel of my clenching pussy”.’

‘Oh I do, I do. Hope you let me feel it again when we’ve actually finished this job.’

‘Admit it was a great idea,’ you clench one last time and at that he withdraws from you. Groaning a raspy sigh. He turns to your captured prize.

‘Honey pot,’ he mutters. ‘Ridiculous.’

--

Din tucks himself away and bends to hoist the limp quarry over a shoulder, readying to exit. 

You adjust your dress, feeling delicious as Din’s seed slides past the hem. A job well executed and a fucking great time had by all. You grin to yourself. You’re going to walk down the street with this man’s spend slicking your thighs together. It’s filthy and you love it.

--

Thanks for reading! Have a great day and drink some water x

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 3.5k

summary : the mandalorian does some thinking

warnings, etc. : language, angst, references to sex

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever?

The look on your face when he had lied so blatantly to you made him want to collapse in on himself. If someone else had made you that upset he would have caved their skull in, why does he deserve any less?

He did it. That’s what matters, even if he had to lie to get you to believe it, he ended things. He doesn’t bother taking off his armor as he collapses onto his mattress. 

His eyes find the plastic flower on his nightstand. It’s a good reminder that he’s a bad person for what he’s put you through. He never should have slept with you. 

He never should have loved you. 

He deserves every form of torture that would be performed on him if they found out what the two of you had been doing. 

He deserves damnation for what he has done. 

And he gets just that when he sleeps. 

Most of his dreams follow the same theme. You, in his cabin, sometimes he finds himself entangled against your naked form, sometimes it’s just laying on his twin bed, enjoying the warmth of each other. 

Something is immediately off about the dream he’s in now.

His first thought is that this cabin is different. 

It’s bigger. There’s more dressers, the bed is twice the size of his. His confusion is palpable as he tries to find you. 

He knows he will if he looks. 

You’re always there when he closes his eyes. 

So he stands, and he walks around the house. It’s completely new to him yet so familiar and as he turns the corner and you’re there.

His breath hitches. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, with a genuine smile, and your hair hanging down across your face. But what catches his eye the most is the little green baby in your arms. You pinch at his cheeks as he makes those all too familiar babbles that used to fill the Crest. 

His heart is in his throat. 

He can’t move. It’s like he’s staring down the greatest threat of his life and if he moves an inch it will attack. 

Maybe he died in his sleep and this is heaven.

That doesn’t make sense, he’s done nothing to earn his place. Or it’s hell, and his torment is knowing he can’t stay here with you and Grogu, that he’ll have to wake up and live with what he’s put you through, and the kid will still be gone. 

He’s content to stand in the doorway and watch this alternate reality for as long as he sleeps. His chest heaving as he takes in the sight of everything he’s ever wanted, just a few steps away. 

The two most important people in his life, and in his reality he’s pushed you both away. 

He could have kept the kid. He hadn’t been sure about leaving, he truly believes that if he had asked Grogu to stay that they could have been happy. But he was just so scared. 

What if he got hurt while out on a hunt? What if he changed his mind and years down the road resented Din for keeping him? Or worst of all, what if plain and simple, he just got sick of Din? 

And then he did the same thing to you. 

He got scared.

He can’t already be regretting it, it’s been less than a day.

The sound of your voice calling him snaps him out of his trance. 

You say his name. 

His real name. 

Din. 

Second to the little noises the kid makes it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He’s not in control of himself as he stumbles towards you. Falling to his knees in front of your chair, scared to reach out to touch you because deep down he knows this isn’t real. 

You should be upset. Upset that he’s lied to you, told you that he doesn’t want you, used you. You should be throwing insults into his face but instead you reach down to put a hand on his cheek and he’s vaguely aware of the fact that in this particular dream he isn’t wearing his helmet. 

He’s so at ease from your touch he doesn’t care. 

You don’t speak. You just use your thumb to rub gentle circles into the planes of his face. Eventually the house is gone, the kitchen is gone, the table and chairs are gone and it’s just you. Standing above him, caressing his face with one hand, holding the kid to your chest with the other. 

He doesn’t dare move a muscle as he tries to burn the sight of the two of you into his memories. 

He wakes up with a start, sitting upright in his bed, his hands clawing at the helmet as he gasps for air. He haphazardly tosses it onto the sheets as tries to catch his breath. 

Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his flight suit he stuffs some rations into his satchel and locks his helmet back on. 

So he can’t stay in the cabin anymore. 

He had never even brought you here but it reeks of your absence. And that dream didn’t help in the slightest. 

There are whispers of you in every corner and crevice of his home. He’s not an idiot, he knows no matter where he goes there will always be traces of you. So there’s no sense avoiding it, he makes his way to the castle and stands guard outside your room. 

He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night. He stands against the wall opposite your bedroom door. He can’t go back to sleep, he can’t handle that dream again. So he stays up until the sun rises. 

He’s a bundle of nerves waiting for you to greet him, but you never do. You stay in your room the entire day, the only change in scenery is when Leo or one of the girls brings you food, he tries to catch a glimpse of you when the door is briefly open but he never does. 

His heart hurts. 

He doesn’t move. When the hallways are empty he eats his rations just for something to do. Sometimes he’ll turn up the external audio so he can hear you pacing around your room but most of the time it’s silent. He’ll stretch his legs every few hours, pacing the hall. And then he’ll sit and repeat. 

He wants to go in. 

He wants to tear the door down, kneel before you and beg for forgiveness. But he manages to resist. 

He doesn’t sleep when the sun goes down. 

When he feels his eyes starting to flutter he’ll chew on a ration. 

Sometimes if he feels sleep creeping up on him he thinks of things to say to you in the morning. 

He wants to say sorry. More accurately he wants to grovel at your feet and tell you he’s an idiot, that he was lying, that he didn’t mean a word of it and that he’s madly in love with you. 

Of course he won’t do that.

He shouldn’t say anything.

It’s better that way. It’s better for the both of you. 

Doesn’t mean he can’t fantasize about a world where he begs for forgiveness and you grant it. 

Would you want him in that world? All of him, not just moments in secret when one of you craved the other. He wants mornings, noons, and nights. Would you give them to him? 

He could take you away from here if you did. 

It wouldn’t be easy but when your job is to find people who don’t want to be found you get pretty good at hiding. You could change your names, go get the kid, he could make his dream real. 

Would you really want that though? 

Of course you wouldn’t. Even if he hadn’t ended things so cruelly, you were a princess and he was just Din. 

You wouldn’t want that cabin in the woods, you were too good for that. You deserved castles and gowns, not living in the woods with a Mandalorian. 

So he won’t talk to you. He will simply resign himself to loving you from afar. (Or more accurately he will love you from a few steps behind you.) And he will leave you alone because he’s caused enough problems. 

Well, if you came out of your room he would. But he can’t properly leave you alone if you won’t let him.

He’s exhausted as he sits against the door, willing himself to stay awake to avoid any more dreams. He turns up his audio for most of the day, listening to you mill about the room. 

He wishes you’d give him a reason to come in, the sound of a scuffle, a yelp, for Makers sake, if you stub your toe he could use that as an excuse just to check in on you. But all he hears are the sounds of your muffled footsteps. 

And he can’t keep his eyes open forever. 

The combination of the flight suit and his armor makes him heat up when he sits still, especially as the sun sets and the light through the windows hits him. He isn’t sure when exactly he falls asleep but he’s back in that big cabin when he does. 

He makes the executive decision this time to stay in bed. 

He doesn’t want to see you, and he doesn’t want to see the kid. Because neither of you are real, and eventually you’ll be ripped away from him when he wakes up. 

Of course his strategy doesn’t work because in this dream you bring Grogu to him. He tries to shield himself from his delusions, even in his dreams he knows it’s pitiful, a trained killer hiding under the blankets from a singular person and a sleeping child. 

You still don’t speak. Gods he wishes you would speak, he wishes you would scream at him, shame him for his cowardice but instead you peel back the sheets just enough to put the kid between the two of you and lay with him, Grogu snoring through that tiny nose of his as you lay down with him, giving him that smile that makes his heart melt and his brain turn to mush. You lean forward and your forehead rests on his. 

He knows he deserves this anguish but still, it’s ruthless. 

Everything he could ever possibly want, under one blanket and it isn’t even fucking real. 

He’s startled awake when the surface he’s laying on moves. 

He doesn’t have a lot of time to come to his senses before he’s looking up and you’re there. The real you. The dream version could never compare to the real thing. That’s how he knows he isn’t sleeping anymore. You're clearer, confusingly you’re wearing simpler clothing. He can’t really think about that right now though because he’s hit with a wave of embarrassment. 

He was the one who had ended things with you yet here he was, sitting outside your door like a dog who got locked out overnight.

You just step over him.

Just like that you’re over him. 

Literally and apparently figuratively.

Huh.

He had assumed you had locked yourself in your room because you were trying to process everything, that you were trying to repair the parts of you that had been broken. 

He had assumed you felt as terrible as he did. 

But you seem fine, like nothing even happened. 

He should be elated. That you’re not only fine but seem to be completely over it.

Instead he feels sick. He’s worried he’s going to vomit in his helmet because he can’t stop wondering if maybe you never even cared about him in the first place. It’s wrong, it’s a terrible thing to wonder and he can’t help but think of what an awful person he must be to have such a thought.

He follows behind you, as is his natural instinct but he feels like he needs to sit down again. 

Did you ever care about him? He had only ended things with you because he couldn’t handle the idea of you loving him. If you loved him and he still couldn’t be with you he wouldn’t survive it.

Yet you seem perfectly fine. 

And he can’t help but think that he ruined everything on a bad judgment call. He hasn’t felt this stupid since he almost got himself stuck in carbonite when he first bought the Crest. 

He can’t focus on a thing you’re doing, yet he stays with you the entire time, he knows you grab books and he knows you return to your chambers and he knows that at some point he ended up back on the floor, leaning against your bedroom door again. 

Maybe you had never even liked him as a friend.

He had never considered that you might have been exactly what he had claimed to be. Bored and in need of entertainment. 

That isn’t possible, you had been so upset when he had ended things.

Of course you could have just been upset because he had been unnecessarily cruel.

He has no right to be bothered by this. This was his choice. His decision. 

Maybe he chose wrong. 

It’s a little late for thoughts like that.

He can’t just change his mind.

And he’s left to think about everything he possibly could have done differently as he fights sleep. 

He doesn’t even know how he’s still standing when the sun rises and he groans as he gets to his feet. 

Your ladies in waiting go in, and this time they actually stay in and he’s more awake then he’s been in days because he knows that you’re actually going to come out today. He braces himself to see that fire in you, tells himself that last night was a fluke, that you hadn’t been prepared to see him and now that you are you’ll want to argue and berate him and he can finally sort things out in his head.

But you don’t.

You barely even look at him and you’re already walking to the library like nothing happened. 

Like it’s any other day. 

He can’t think, he can’t form a coherent thought because you seem perfectly fine. He really hadn’t meant anything to you. 

He had hoped that this confirmation would free him. That if it was true he wouldn’t feel an attraction to you anymore and he could finally get off this kriffing planet. But his adoration doesn’t waver for a second. He still feels exactly the same way except now he feels smaller. There is nothing worse than a problem that can’t be solved with a blaster. 

He’s got big plans to spend his day trying not to give in to his mental and physical exhaustion while he does everything in his power to not think about how unbothered you look. But those plans are immediately halted when you freeze up right after you get into the library. He’s puzzled for a few seconds until he sees the nook and your voice echoes inside his helmet.

“Why is your favorite color green?”

The kid, the cabin, and you. 

He wants to fall apart. He wants to collapse right there on the floor and he’s so tired he briefly considers it until he realizes you’re still not moving. He gives you a second, he knows better than to try and talk to you right now, his helmet has been silenced since the last time he had spoken to you. 

He can’t be trusted to not beg for absolution. 

Your eyes are glued on the nook and he swears you tremble slightly.

So you did care. 

He can’t even take pleasure in that fact because his heart drops when he sees your expression. It’s like looking in a mirror.  

What the hell is he supposed to do in this situation? 

He’s faced enough deadly challenges throughout his bounty hunting career to know when to just go with your gut, so that’s what he does. He gently guides you away from the nook and sits you somewhere where you won’t have to look at it. 

You look as small as he feels, there’s something so intimate about your misery that he can’t look any longer, if he does he’ll give in and all of this will have been for nothing. You’re strong, even though he wasn’t sure for a moment there he knows that you still have your fire so of course you pull yourself together. And when you speak, you address him as you task him with finding Leo and he’s so happy to not only hear your voice but to hear you sound okay that he does it without a second thought. 

He desperately waits to hear you say more but you never do. He should have seen that coming. But he’s so weary at this point, he lets himself lean against the shelves and close his eyes, just for a second, the last thing he sees is you sketching something out on the papers Leo brought you. 

Of course you’re there when he closes his eyes as well. 

There’s no cabin, no kitchen, no bedroom, no kid. It’s just you this time. And he is trapped in a never ending loop of you. Every few minutes he’ll wake up, turning to make sure you’re still there, before drifting back into unconsciousness. You’re there too, waiting for him. It’s a funny sort of hell. To wake up and see you there, to fall asleep and see you there. He can’t escape for a single second.

What else is new?

The dream you isn’t real. He can’t bring himself to interact with her, because even the fantasy of you that he has conjured up doesn’t live up to the real thing. The real you is right there, everytime he slips back into consciousness he turns to see you. He’s never been a devout man but looking at you now he gets it. How people can be religious. The idea that you can adore something so much that you commit your life to it. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that, at this point it’s unhealthy, but he’s just so tired, and you’re everywhere, and it’s hard to focus on anything but the look of pride on your face as you stare at your drawing. 

The dream you is too polished and shiny, she always seems so quiet. This is the real you, pleased with yourself, fighting back a smile because you’ve accomplished something. 

The sound of your chair pushing backwards wakes him from his strange middle ground of awake and asleep as he straightens up. He shouldn’t have let that happen, he doesn’t sleep in front of people, there’s too much risk involved but as much as your presence torments him it also soothes him. 

You seem like you’re in a rush to get back to your room and curiosity gets the best of him, so he allows himself a glance at your work as you scramble to get your things together. 

The table is covered in sketches of weapons and ships, a lot of which he recognizes from his book.

That’s what you had been drawing. 

He sees an ink depiction of the Crest and he can’t stop himself as he shoves it into his pocket, careful not to crinkle it. 

Why did he do that? 

He shouldn’t have done that.

But it’s too late because you’re out the door already which means he needs to be out the door. He trails behind you like always and there is the faintest hesitation from you where he thinks you might just invite him in, he’s imagining things, he has to be. He doesn’t think further on it as you close the door. He can barely stay upright and when he’s sure you’re out of earshot he lets himself slump back down onto the floor. 

He reaches into his pocket and holds the drawing out in front of him. 

He hadn’t told you about the Crest. This was just a freak coincidence. It’s a nice drawing though, you did it justice. 

He puts it into his bag, careful not to fold or crease it. 

He stops fighting sleep, he can’t keep this up forever so he lets his eyes close with a sigh. 

His vision fading to black as he feels a tap on his shoulder, opening his eyes he’s expecting to see you and the kid but instead of the house he’s still in the hall and instead of you it’s a rather displeased looking Togruta girl. 

He recognizes her as one of your ladies in waiting, he’s never learned her name. When she speaks she doesn’t sound even the slightest bit frightened of him like any of the other servants in the castle, she sounds furious.

“What did you do to her?”

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

[hwasdvlly]

Spooky Fun | p.seonghwa

☆ summary: it's halloween and the family decides to do something extraordinary.

☆ pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

☆ genres: romance, fluff, and family

☆ word count: 1k words

☆ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!seonghwa, non-idol!reader, married couple, star wars cosplay, very soft moments

☆ a/n: happy halloween my beautiful readers!

October 31st is the last day of the month and the time for a spooky celebration. 

For this year’s costume theme, Seonghwa chose no other than his favorite movie franchise, Star Wars. He had always wanted to be Anakin Skywalker. Now, he wanted to try it out with his three beloveds: you and the little stars Seonghan and Hyeseong. 

The oldest child is Park Seonghan. Atinys nicknames him as ‘mini-Seonghwa’ because he looks so identical to his father that it’s uncanny. Seonghan even has a gentle and bright personality with a hint of wittiness, like Seonghwa. 

The youngest child, Park Hyeseong, is more of a shy little girl. But underneath her shyness is a lovely angel who is a passionate dancer and enjoys drawing cute animals and nature. Like her mother, she inherited an elegant beauty. Hyeseong is more of a mommy’s girl, but she does consider her appa as her best friend and the hero of her life. 

“This is where the fun begins.” Seonghwa checks himself out through a full-length mirror and tries to act all mysterious and lethal. He has on his costume, which is handmade, and his toy lightsaber. Seonghwa will forever be a kid at heart, and he is happy that his dream of Halloween came true. 

“I think you’re having too much fun as Anakin.” You walked out of the bathroom. You are Padme Amidala. It’s very appropriate for you and Seonghwa. 

He turns and sees you in a pretty olive green dress with a hoodie over your soft curls. Seonghwa grins, “I can’t help it. I wonder what our little stars will look like.” He goes up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Everything about you is beautiful. He is glad that you are down to do this idea of a celebration. You rest your hands on his chest. You lift your eyes to meet his gorgeous, deep brown orbs. “They’re going to look so cute! I think their uncles will die of cuteness.” You let out a giggle. 

Seonghwa smirks, “Hell yeah, they will. Our kids are the best.” He is so prideful and supportive of his little ones that he does sound cocky at times. You snickered and shook your head. “I agree, but please, don’t embarrass them.” As much as you deeply love Seonghwa, he exaggerates almost everything.

“Since we are talking about our little stars, why not see them,” Seonghwa suggested. You beamed and nodded. 

The married couple intertwined their fingers to go to their children’s room. Seonghan and Hyeseong share a space because there aren’t a lot of rooms in the house, but they get along together. 

“Hannie, Hye. Are you guys ready for Halloween?” You asked the kids. 

“Yes, we are!” They answered in unison. 

Upon arriving in their room, you and Seonghwa gasped at the sight of Seonghan and Hyeseong. They look so cute!

Seonghan is The Mandalorian. He has artificial berserk armor and a helmet. Hyeseong is Grogu. She has those green protruding ears as a headband, the brown robe, and her hair in twin tails.

“You guys look awesome!” Seonghwa couldn’t help but squeeze the life out of his babies. He bends down and brings them into his comfy arms. You smiled by the door frame at the wholesome moment. Seeing Seonghwa happy with the kids makes you fall in love with him all over again. 

The father lets go and takes out his phone from his trousers. “Smile for grandpa, grandma, the uncles, and for us,” Seonghwa tells Seonghan and Hyeseong. The kids posed cutely for the camera, and their dad snapped hundreds of photos. 

“Okay, okay, Hwa, that’s enough. We don’t want to be late.” You stopped your husband because he was going overboard. Seonghwa looks through the gallery and squeals. “So cute!! Look, love.” He shows you the little stars. You smiled merrily at their cuteness. 

“This is the way.” Seonghan points to the exit of the front door. The Park Family are putting on their shoes and carrying their Halloween buckets. 

“Patu!” Hyeseong shouted. Her parents burst out laughing at her adorable imitation. 

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa opened the door for his loved ones, and they began to march outside. 

Hyeseong holds your hand as she swings your arm back and forth. Their home isn’t far from the KQ Building, so it’s much easier for Seonghwa to go to work. As they walked on the streets, people noticed them in their Star Wars costumes. It caught everyone’s attention. 

Seonghwa also noticed a few Atinys saying ‘hi’ to them. Seonghan politely greeted them, and they happily squealed at the sweet boy. 

Once arriving at your husband’s workplace, the employees dress in costumes, and they kindly give the children candy. Hyeseong tries to ask for a sweet treat and not be shy. But for real, who can’t resist an angel? 

The party is on the rooftop of the KQ Building. It’s not something Seonghwa and the guys have done before, but since Seonghan and Hyeseong are joining, they want it to be special. 

As they reached the top of the level of the place, Seonghwa opened the door for his family. They were welcomed by fun and frightening decorations and the tasty aroma of food. Last but not least, ATEEZ in their costumes. 

“Hannie!”

“Hye, my love!”

The seven members approach the little stars for a big bear hug. They even gave them candy because they truly love them.

Hongjoong gathers Hyeseong into his arms and plants a kiss on her plush cheeks. He is her favorite uncle, and he does enjoy being one. Except he spoils the heck out of her. Seonghan doesn’t have a favorite uncle, but he does prefer to be with the 99 liners. Seonghwa doesn’t know if he should be concerned if his son will get influenced by their antics or end up being a little mischievous. 

“Nice Star Wars getup.” Jongho commented with a gleeful smile. He and the members are impressed by the family’s efforts to look like the characters. 

“Let me guess,” Yunho puts a finger on his lips. “It was Hyung’s idea.” He says without sounding clueless. 

You chuckled and nodded. “It was also Hwa’s turn to choose a theme. The kids liked the idea as well.” You look at your husband with love in your eyes. 

Seonghwa sees it and puts on a proud expression. His heart was filled with happiness.

#ateez #atiny #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x female reader #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa imagines

[omgahgase]

now listen, listen here. i just know deep down in my bone marrows that the twins have had more than one conversation about their boyfriends choice of ships.

leia has told han time and time again that he can't keep replacing and moving and relying on pure luck for the falcon to even start let alone fly. he either needs to get professional help that she's all but willing to provide for, or he needs to get a new ship.

(that last bit is just a threat, a scare tactic, if you will. she knows how much the falcon means to han. leia would never forcefully make him part with his first love.)

now, luke and din? they're different. and that's only bc luke is as sentimental as din and will do everything in his power to fix that bag of bolts. scrounge shady sellers for spare parts? luke is on it. help peli with repairs even if luke is up all night to do it? he has a canteen of caf ready to keep him awake. luke will do, buy, fix, whatever the razor crest needs bc it's din's home, no matter if it's not his first or his current one. it's the first ship he bought after a successful bounty, it's where he raised grogu, where he took luke to see the stars when he was just a kid on tatooine, a bright eyed farm boy hungry for the reckless and the unknown.

luke is dearly attached to that ship just as much as din and grogu are, and he's going to make sure it flies for another day.

#dinluke #hanleia #the twins have very different opinions but they can both agree that their boyfriends have flying death traps #and yet they're going to do everything in their power to make sure those ships live #bc their boyfies would be devastated and the twins can't have that #luke skywalker #din djarin #han solo #leia organa #star wars #the mandalorian #grogu #omgahgase writes

[omaano]

Last one for @bobadinweek's bingo - A Gravity Falls AU for my FREE square! I'll make a whole post to sum up all my contribution to this bingo a bit later (I made 10 artworks for this event in the past year omg!) - but I'm really pleased to end it with this one - just look at how cute they are as babies! There are some musing about this AU (and another variant) under the cut if you're interested ;)

I'll admit that I don't actually know much about Omega (aside from how she appeared in some fics and what I saw of her on this site), but I already felt bad enough for taking her bow and giving it to Boba (if it's up to Grogu he won't be able to keep hold of it for long, lol), so I felt it best to let her keep her hat and give her the journal. She seems more like the type to pour over it, while Boba just jumps headfirst into any and every kind of adventure. (Also imagine Boba with a pig-sized mini rancor. He'd lose a limb to it, but he would also LOVE it!)

I know that it's usually headcanon'd that Din and Boba are about the same-ish age (with usually Boba coming out a year-or-two older), but for the sake of fun here let Din hit puberty and his growth spurt a bit earlier and be just a bit older, and let Boba have his gay little awakening that summer.

(Just imagine that episode where Dipper makes multiple copies of himself (I know the roles don't track perfectly, shush!) to try and ask Wendy out for that dance/date at the party - and make it Boba trying his very awkward best [insert clone joke here], and, say, put an equally teenage Cobb in Robbie's place, except Cobb turns out to be cool, and now Boba is in all kinds of trouble, and surrounded by too many cute boys wow (but Din is still the cutest with his weird frog-eating baby troll). This idea's kept me entertained through the struggles of trying to keep track of my lineart and flat colour layers with the background here lol.)

ALTERNATIVELY I also entertained the idea of Boba and Fennec running a con mystery shack because they try to lie low for some crimes and not get caught (they are just the ideal type of chaotic-dumb-but-secretly-competent combo, who would play super dumb about any supernatural shenanigans going on while casually leaning against a rancor under a way too small sheet in the corner); and Din is the handy man helping out around the shack, trying to cover for his weird slightly green son who should not be allowed near frogs or you will see something you can never unsee after, and baby Rey, Finn and Poe could be the ones to get into all kinds of supernatural trouble (with Hux as Pacifica, and Kylo/Ben as Lil Gideon lol that would even work with Han and Boba having an archnemeses kind of situation going on). Plus Boba has an endless supply of lost competent twins so...

#bobadin #bobadinaubingo #boba x din #boba fett #din djarin #tbb omega #omega bad batch #the mandalorian fanart #tbobf fanart #sw fanart #digital art #gravity falls AU #my art #I swear I tried to keep this last one simple if I'd picked the second variant (as I'd entertained it a month ago) #I would have evnded up drawing a whole interior of the mystery shack and like 7 characters #and I am not going to do that to myself on a time constraint #I haven't yet recovered from that bookshop interior yet lol #one day I will get the photo qulaity of my posts right I swear

[merrysithmas]

masculinity in star wars

you know, after some great posts by the brilliant @intermundia my mind has been going. something i've long thought, and something they recently put into very beautiful words, is how one of the central themes of star wars, and why so many nonbinary/queer/trans/masc people gravitate towards it, is masculinity.

i'd even argue it is THE central theme (even beyond the concepts of Spiritual Balance & Good vs Evil), which explains the phenomenon of cismen being so violently gatekeeping and protective of it.

we all know when sw was released in the 70s the emotional arc at its core revolved around the concept of Father and Son, the forgiveness, redemption, or blame therein.

it is easy to see why Luke Skywalker, noble, innocent, and nontoxically pursuing a masculine concept of "knightship" (while retaining feminine qualities himself which would prohibit him from fitting in with the imperials) would become a hero to many young cis boys who had overbearing, unrelatable, absent, or downright evil fathers. it is easy to see why obiwan, the wise and protective second-father figure would become their beloved guru.

it is also easy to see, of course, the reverse, wherein many men who feel they failed at fatherhood, partnership, and life, would relate to Vader and the salvaging love he had for his son. the possibility that they were not totally consumed and digested by the toxic masculinity that had conscripted them and of which they then became soldiers of - an Empire.

the question SW asks in almost every film to this date is - what is masculinity? where does it come from? how do we define it? what do we do with it? and how do we balance it?

we see this reflected over and over again - Din Djarin with Grogu, the Bad Batch with Omega, Palpatine/Qui gon with Anakin, Obi-wan with the Skywalker twins, Rey's unrelenting search for a father figure in Luke, Kylo Ren and his burning abandonment in front of the absent Han Solo, Yoda and his Order, Cassian Andor and the powerless castration he experiences via the Empire, the HyperMasculine Empire, the warsome Mandalore vs. the pacifist Satine Kryze, Cal Kestis & his success borne of his crew of resourceful women.

Characters who are presented as male are constantly being challenged by ideas of masculinity and by which route they will choose to express it.

what does it mean to be a "man"? a question queer, trans, and masc people often ask themselves in relation to our identities. and a question we see the SW characters face constantly. is it sacrifice (Anakin)? protectiveness (Din)? bravery (Luke)? resilience (Obi-wan)? taking up arms when you are wronged (Cassian)? vengeance and blazing your own way (Vader)? Kindness and vulnerability (Cal)?

of course, this concept of masculinity in SW as a central theme also extends to its female characters and what it means to have female masculinity of any kind especially within a patriarchy or a situation where masculinity can be translated into a threat (to anyone, including oneself). this is another reason, id argue, for uproar in the cismale sector of the fandom when they are faced with a topic (female & queer masculinity) that they neither experience nor understand and see therefore, as a threat.

characters like leia, rey, jyn, reva all display various components of outright female masculinity and/or display a picture of women grappling with the masculinity around them, which i would postulate is what makes them so iconically and instantly popular. they are allowed to be whole on screen. they are not merely a "feminine" archetype. they are whole - masculine, feminine, passive, and aggressive.

Leia with her commanding military presence is never once questioned. She then becomes a mother who grapples with the duties of traditional motherhood while following a path that is most meaningful for her (the Rebellion).

Jyn, the abandoned streetrat rebel who is allowed to be callous, doubtful, unpreened, and cynical. Whose strength of heart eventually pulls a motley crew together.

Rey, a sexless scrapper whose skills come from self-reliance, who is pushed face to face with someone who repulses her - Kylo Ren with his burning crucifix of a saber, who haughtily croons to her that he can take "whatever he wants" from her. She pushes him away, rejects him continually, until he renounces the toxicity of his confused perspective (brought on by his own torture). Only to in the end embrace Ben, the good man who'd die for her to live: as she embodied the principles that he failed.

Reva, a hardened and traumatized covert soldier who gives in and then climbs out of the charybdis of vengeance and spiritual suffering. who mistrusts and is disgusted by the men who were supposed to protect her family (Obi-wan and Anakin). we rarely get to see this rage and pain from a female character on screen.

as queer people of course we see ourselves in between those philosophical questions and identify with various characters and their struggles. we are always presented with these internal questions of what makes an identity and confronted with our own society's labels of "masculine" and "feminine" and how they relate to our place as queer people.

& of course, "canon" doesn't truly exist in the sense of a character's gender or sexuality - a character's orientation and identity is up to the viewer- and with complex questions of identity already at play in this universe it is easy to see oneself as a queer person within this story.

and then of course, we are now starting to see characters like Merrin, Obi-wan, and others' sexualities expanded upon further than the "assumed cishet" brand usually defaulted by the general audience.

so those are some futher, not-totally developed thoughts on the topic here haha

#just thoughts #star wars #sw meta #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #leia organa #din djarin #cassian andor #cal kestis #rey skywalker #reva sevander #jyn erso #han solo #kylo ren

[eagna-eilis]

Star Wars Characters at a Family Wedding in Ireland

ANAKIN - Gets extremely nostalgic about his own wedding and makes his adult twin children groan in embarrassment. Is in such a good mood that he isn't even mad when Leia calls him a fascist for voting Fine Gael, and manages to give his grandson an effective pep talk.

PADMÉ - So resplendent that the bride is almost jealous but honestly how could you be upset with her she's just so nice. Gets giggly tipsy over dinner and waltzes with C3P0 afterwards. Touches up literally everyone's makeup for them throughout the night and does a better job than the actual makeup artist.

OBI-WAN - Waits til the night is winding down then magically locates a squeezebox, fiddle, a guitar, and a tin whistle and hands them out to start a sessiún. The sing-song goes on until 5am and it's all his fault. His signature song is 'The Lass of Aughrim' because it makes him feel all literary.

R2D2 - Has at least four too many double Jamesons and literally starts arguing with the wall. Shmii finds him passed out under a table the next morning, wherein he swears he's not drinking until Christmas.

C3P0 - Wrecks the heads of the hotel staff over dinner with all his requests, to the point of embarrassing the other people at his table. Conducts impromptu ballroom dancing lessons while the band plays and charms the pants off everyone with his patient explanations of how to foxtrot.

LANDO - Pulls out a deck of cards and starts a game of 21s in the corner. Absolutely swindles everyone. It's okay though because he puts his winnings behind the bar so nobody has to pay for their drinks after that.

AHSOKA - Brings enough weed to share with a chosen few, like an absolute queen. Ends up hanging out in the loo for ages rolling for herself, Sabine, Maz, Kanan, and eventually Ben. Despite her relative stillness and quiet, she enjoys the music more than basically anybody else and people will quote her fondly slagging Anakin over dinner for the next 20 years.

SABINE - Camera queen who tries to look like she isn't enjoying herself. Fools nobody because she keeps grinning and snort-laughing. Her photos are a thousand times better than the photographer's and are the ones that the couple use for their album.

HERA - Helps Leia gang up on Anakin about politics because goddamn it, Leia isn't wrong. Hands out isotonic powder sachets and paracetamols to everyone before they go up to bed. They're gonna need it.

EZRA - Gets so hyper after consuming so much 7up that Hera has to send him to bed before the DJ takes over from the band. Sneaks down later for the cocktail sausages.

DIN DJARIN - Couldn't get a babysitter so he's tucked up at home watching The Late Late and hate-tweeting it.

GROGU - fell asleep in front of The Late Late. Delighted when somebody brings wedding cake to the house the following day.

KANAN - Literally will not be at peace until the DJ plays Kenny Rodgers' 'The Gambler' because it's not a wedding without it. Once that's done he insists on 'Come On Eileen'. Somebody's gotta be the keeper of the flame of tradition, after all.

CHEWBACCA - Requests all the group dances. Rock the Boat, The Siege of Ennis, The Macarena, The Walls of Limerick, Chain Reaction. Bullies everyone into joining in, except Ben who is the absolute antithesis of craic.

LUKE - Every wedding requires at least one merrily drunk uncle and Luke does not disappoint. Suit jacket? Gone. Top buttons? Open. Tie? It's now around his head while he stands on a chair playing air guitar to 'Hotel California'. Ends up puking in a flower pot. Iconic.

LEIA - Would have been okay if she stuck to wine all night but a single gin and tonic on top of the shitty hotel merlot and suddenly she's having an hour-and-a-half political argument with Anakin. Embarrasses the hell out of her parents, brother, and son by smooching Han repeatedly while dancing.

HAN - Organises the pre-ceremony pints. His sotto-voce asides are funnier than anything in the speeches. Quietly sings along to 'Brown Eyed Girl' by Van Morrison in Leia's ear while they dance, prompting all that smooching.

FINN - Sneaks into the hotel's public bar to check the hurling scores on the telly then reports them back to all the lads. Keeps his wits about him regards alcohol so he can take care of Poe later but eats so much cake he feels sick.

POE - Holds court in the bar, telling long anecdotes about his life that are only 75% true. Dances and flirts with all the aunties and nanas and makes them feel great about themselves. It doesn't convince Ahsoka to give him a spliff, though, because she is immune to his charms.

ROSE - The boomers yell at her for getting the DJ to play 'Celtic Symphony' by the Wolfe Tones, but she calls them hypocrites who are oozing postcolonial shame. Anakin offers to adopt her because now she's the centre of the politics argument. Knocks it out of the park at the sing-song because she knows all the words to at least 20 rebel songs.

MAZ - The first to place her handbag down on the dancefloor so as to coax the other nanas onto the floor. Jovially flirts with every man over 18 and under 60 that isn't her blood relation. Asks Poe to marry her.

REY - Finishes at least three other people's dinners. Sings along very loudly to every song that the band AND the DJ plays. Can't dance at all but it doesn't stop her. Should probably check on Ben because she knows what he's like but decides that tonight he's his family's responsibility. Loses her entire shit when ABBA plays.

BEN - Zero craic, God help the poor craytur. Drinks brandy as an affectation and starts quoting James Joyce after four of them. Gets extremely mopey after brandy number six and ends up having a long heart to heart with his Grandda Ani. Cries then throws up. Auntie 'Soka gives him a joint to settle his tummy. Subsequently feels better and then knocks everyone's socks off singing 'Raglan Road'.

SHMII - Begs off the party at 10pm because she's 97 years old. Still makes sure that everybody takes their hangover down to breakfast the following morning for a Big Feed of rasher-sausage-and-pudding, and maybe hair of the dog if they're desperate.

#star wars crack #star wars humour #irish culture #tw: alcohol #tw: weed #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars prequels #hera syndulla #shmi skywalker #reylo #ben solo #han solo #leia organa #princess leia #luke skywalker #ahsoka tano #sabine wren #obi wan kenobi

[darthpotater]

Welcome Home

It’s been years since Luke last felt that presence through the force— something he didn’t think he would ever feel again, a feeling that always gets him weak in the knees; a feeling he has missed oh so much.

fem reader insert

Warnings: t*rture was implied once

A/N: hello, i hope you enjoyyy, i needed some luke lovin so. also this got quite long so i apologize for that and im planning on wiritng a sequel for this, to maybe fill in the blanks and stuff but other than that, i hope you enjoy!!!

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of this view. Sure, this planet’s boring and I’d do anything to get off this planet but it sure has it’s perks.” You sigh contentedly as you looked into the distance, watching the twin suns set. Luke chuckled as he looks over at you, smiling at you in awe. “I don’t think the sunsets are the only perks this planet has.” He chuckled before leaning in to leave a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. You glance at him, a smirk resting on your lips. “Sure, the blue milk’s good too.” You chuckle, making Luke let out a hearty laugh. You felt your heart do somersaults in your chest at the sound, it definitely felt like music to your ears. You’ve been with this farmboy for quite some time now but he still made you feel all sorts of things.

“C’mere you.” Luke smiled as he pulled you closer to him. You immediately snuggled up to him, back against his chest as you both sat on the rocky hill. He wraps his arms protectively around you and places his chin on your shoulder as the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, going back to watching the setting suns. You reach up to lazily play with his hair, smiling when you feel him lean against your touch, snuggling into it. Your smile widened when you felt him leave another tender kiss on your neck, shuddering slightly at the feeling. “I hope you know how much you mean to me, my love.” He mumbled as he stayed there. “You’re the only one I’m holding onto to keep me from going insane, especially on this rock.” He added with a small laugh. “And I promise, one day, I’ll take you and we’ll explore the galaxy, watching every sunset together.” He added as he pulled away, prompting you to look up at him.

His bright blue eyes twinkled under the faint light of day, and when you thought they couldn’t get more beautiful, you were always proven wrong. You turned around in his hold slightly, giving you better access to his face as you reached up to remove a speck of sand from his cheek. He closes his eyes once again at your touch, something he does often and you found it oh so endearing. Your hand remained on his cheek as your thumb lazily caressed his skin. “I love you.” He whispers with a smile as you bring him down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. You smiled when you felt him tighten his hold around you. You pulled away and laughed when you saw his cheeks were now beet red.

“You’re doing it again, y’know.” You giggled. He tries hiding his shy smile as he pretends to not know what you were talking about. “Doing what?” He shrugs as he looks around. “You blush every time we kiss.”

“I don’t.”

“You are, right now.”

“No I’m not. That’s just… sunburn.”

You let out another laugh. “Oh Skywalker, what am I going to do with you?”

His eyes connect with yours once more. “Love me forever.”

You smiled softly, “I can do that.”

Luke opened his eyes and immediately sat up at the sound of Artoo’s whistles. “Oh hey, Artoo.” Luke smiles faintly as he runs a hand down his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Was just resting. Where’s Grogu? Is he asleep?” He asked as the droid began rolling away. “I’ll head back soon, I’ll just finish up here.” Luke said, smiling as Artoo replied with a series of beeps and whistles. When the droid was out of earshot, Luke lets out a sigh as his eyes focused on the sunset in front of him. He smiles faintly at the dream he had before looking at the empty spot beside him— your spot. “Oh, my love.” He calls out quietly as he lays back down onto the grass. “You would’ve loved this view.” He added as he looked beside him, as if you were there with him. “I’m so sorry.” He added quietly as a single tear trickled down his cheek.

It’s been years since he lost you. After the battle of Endor and when the Empire found out that you were force-sensitive, they made it a point to separate the two of you as their last try at taking down the Rebellion. He tried saving you— he did all he can but it was not enough. Presumed dead, Luke felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest, when he saw you laying there, lifeless. He wanted to run to you, hold you one last time but they had to go; he had to go. Han was pulling him into the Falcon before the Empire could get to them.

“Luke, go.”

“No, I’m not leaving you.” Luke hissed, the Skywalker stubbornness coming out. You shook your head, “I wasn’t asking. Luke— they want you not me. They get they’re hands on you, they win. We didn’t work and fight our asses off for them to win. You know that, more than anyone. We worked so hard to fight and we can’t let all that go.”

Luke shook his head, “No, there has to be another way.” You sighed as you took his face in between your hands. “You know there’s no other way, my love.” You smiled faintly as you examined his face, possibly for the last time ever. “We cannot let them win.” You said before leaning in to give him a passionate kiss. His hands snaked their way around your hips and pulled you close, as close as he possibly could. You felt his tongue swipe over your lower lip as your hand found its way to massage the back of his head. You didn’t want this to end, you wanted to stay in his arms forever. When you two pulled away, foreheads touching, you leaned in and gently rubbed your nose against his, him doing the same. “”I love you, Luke Skywalker. Now go be that Master Jedi we all need. I’m rooting for you. Always.” You smiled as you pulled away, tears threatening to spill form your eyes. He looked at you one last time as Han marched over. “Alright kids, as much as I don’t want to ruin this moment, we have to go. Now.”

You nodded. “Han, please take Luke. I’ll buy you some time.” You said as Han furrowed his brows. “Nuh-uh, you’re coming with us.” Han argued. “Han, I’m not playing games. Take Luke and go.” You ordered, voice firm. Han had become a big brother to you over the years. The brother you never had but always wanted. Sure, he was annoying but you were thankful for him anyways. You could see it in his face that he didn’t want to leave but he knew that this was what needed to be done. “Now go.” You ordered as you unhooked your lightsaber and igniting it. Han grabbed Luke’s arm and escorted him down the hallway.

Luke could remember it vividly. Like it was ingrained in his head forever. He remembers watching helplessly as you graciously sliced through Troopers and deflected their blasters, all on your own. The way you used the force so effortlessly is a sight he will never forget. Between the two of you, you were always the fast learner.

But then everything happened so fast. Luke was still trying to process everything happening around him when the explosion happened. He remembered stumbling forward as the floor shook. How Han was yelling for the rest of the rebels to fall back. Luke didn’t care if his ears rang or if he was bleeding, he was busy looking back to see if you were okay. When he did, his knees almost gave in when he saw you laying there, bruised and bloody. He screamed for you as Han dragged him into the Falcon. His heart broke into a million pieces as Han jumped into hyperdrive. He sat there, staring blankly as he felt like half of himself was taken away; and that's exactly what they did to him.

Luke now stared at the sky, littered with millions of stars, wishing you were right there with him, in his arms once again. Thinking of how much easier rebuilding a Jedi Order would be if you were by his side. He was deep in thought when the loud sound of a starship entered the atmosphere. He sat up and watched as an unfamiliar ship plummeted into the nearby forest. Luke jumped up onto his feet and ran toward the ship to investigate.

As he ducked under fallen trees, he could see the ship in the distance, enveloped in smoke. He carefully approached, lightsaber in hand as he used the force to search for any kind of life forms but felt...nothing. With brows furrowed, he holstered his saber before walking closer to the ship to examine. And that's when he felt it.

His eyes went wide when he felt the familiar presence, the same presence that gets his knees buckling and heart racing and swelling with so much love. Never in a million years did Luke ever think he would feel that again. "No, it can't be." He whispered to himself as he desperately looked around, looking for a familiar face; looking for you, the love of his life.

He turned around and was immediately tackled down, lightsaber inches away from his neck. Unfazed, he looks up at you and could not believe his eyes. There you were, on top of him, alive and breathing, holding a lightsaber dangerously close to his face. He watched as realization hit your face, and your eyes softened as you studied his face. "L-Luke?" You squeaked, immediately deactivating your saber. You got off of him, making him immediately sit up. The two of you sat there, staring at each other, trying to process what was happening.

And without another word, the two of you tackled each other, this time with a tight embrace. Luke immediately buried his face into your shoulder as he pulls you to sit on his lap, trembling slightly as he felt the emotions wash over him. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as you rested your chin on top of his head, holding as tight. Luke shook his head, trying to convince himself that this was not a dream but reality. "Maker, I missed you so much." You whispered into his hair as you left a kiss on top of his golden brown hair. He nodded, agreeing as he peppered your shoulder and neck with kisses. You smiled, tears now brimming your eyes as you pulled away to look at him one more time.

"You're alive. How? I don't understand. I saw you that day— If only I've known, I would have—" He started to ramble but was cut off as you crashed your lips onto his. You smiled when you felt him melt into you, hands gripping your waist tightly. You cupped his face, soaking up the feel of him. Your hand massaged the back of his head, gripping his hair ever so lightly, making him whimper in return. Your tongues danced effortlessly with each other as you held onto each other for dear life. In need of air, the two of you finally pulled away, foreheads resting against each other. Luke leans in and rubs his nose against yours lightly, making you giggle as tears now freely fall from the both of you. You pulled away and took the time to examine his face intently. You reach up to wipe a tear as it trickled down his cheek, smiling when you see him lean against you. 5 years have gone by since you've last seen him and although he grew a bit older and some things may have changed, he was still your beautiful, blue-eyed, whiny, blue milk loving farmboy.

He was the reason why you survived all those years with the Empire, the thought of him was what you held onto as they did unimaginable things to you, trying to convince you to join their side. You told yourself that on the day you two finally reunite, you would thank him for being the hope in a time of despair; the light in a time of darkness for you.

"Thank you." You whispered, leaving a soft kiss just above his ear. He shuddered before pulling away to look at you, brows furrowed, making you laugh. "For what, my love?" He asked, "There's nothing to thank me for. I... I failed to save you, to rescue you. I should've returned for you, if only I had known—" You playfully roll your eyes before kissing him to shut him up. "You've done enough, love. You've done so much, please believe me." You added, as you cupped his face once again, giving him a quick peck. The moon now stood high, perfectly hitting Luke's face, giving you a perfect view. "Luke, are you... blushing?" You asked with a smile and he immediately looks away. "No."

"Maker, you still blush when we kiss!" You tease, laughing as you two began to get up from the ground. "I am not! It's just—"

"Don't you dare say it's sunburn, Skywalker." You smiled, wincing as you stood up, the adrenaline beginning to die down and the pain coming back. "Also, you think you have bacta patches to spare? I think I'll need a kriff ton of em." You sighed as you felt that you still could not put any weight on your leg. Luke throws your arm over his shoulder as an arm slid around your waist, pulling you close to him. "Whatever you need, my starlight, I will give. Let me take care of you."

You looked at him, only to see him admiring you with so much love, no point in arguing. You nodded, leaning into him, letting him guide you back.

"Also, where are we?"

Luke smiled as he stopped in his tracks, making you look up at him. You could tell he was still in disbelief that you were right there with him again. Kriff, you were too. "Home. You're home." He continues as he brings a hand up to caress your cheek before leaning down to give you another passionate kiss. "Welcome home, my love." He whispered.

And he was right. You were home, because wherever Luke is, that's where home was.

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagines #star wars #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfic #luke skywalker fluff #star wars fanfiction #mark hamill

[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 3.5k

summary : the mandalorian does some thinking

warnings, etc. : language, angst, references to sex

He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever?

The look on your face when he had lied so blatantly to you made him want to collapse in on himself. If someone else had made you that upset he would have caved their skull in, why does he deserve any less?

He did it. That’s what matters, even if he had to lie to get you to believe it, he ended things. He doesn’t bother taking off his armor as he collapses onto his mattress. 

His eyes find the plastic flower on his nightstand. It’s a good reminder that he’s a bad person for what he’s put you through. He never should have slept with you. 

He never should have loved you. 

He deserves every form of torture that would be performed on him if they found out what the two of you had been doing. 

He deserves damnation for what he has done. 

And he gets just that when he sleeps. 

Most of his dreams follow the same theme. You, in his cabin, sometimes he finds himself entangled against your naked form, sometimes it’s just laying on his twin bed, enjoying the warmth of each other. 

Something is immediately off about the dream he’s in now.

His first thought is that this cabin is different. 

It’s bigger. There’s more dressers, the bed is twice the size of his. His confusion is palpable as he tries to find you. 

He knows he will if he looks. 

You’re always there when he closes his eyes. 

So he stands, and he walks around the house. It’s completely new to him yet so familiar and as he turns the corner and you’re there.

His breath hitches. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, with a genuine smile, and your hair hanging down across your face. But what catches his eye the most is the little green baby in your arms. You pinch at his cheeks as he makes those all too familiar babbles that used to fill the Crest. 

His heart is in his throat. 

He can’t move. It’s like he’s staring down the greatest threat of his life and if he moves an inch it will attack. 

Maybe he died in his sleep and this is heaven.

That doesn’t make sense, he’s done nothing to earn his place. Or it’s hell, and his torment is knowing he can’t stay here with you and Grogu, that he’ll have to wake up and live with what he’s put you through, and the kid will still be gone. 

He’s content to stand in the doorway and watch this alternate reality for as long as he sleeps. His chest heaving as he takes in the sight of everything he’s ever wanted, just a few steps away. 

The two most important people in his life, and in his reality he’s pushed you both away. 

He could have kept the kid. He hadn’t been sure about leaving, he truly believes that if he had asked Grogu to stay that they could have been happy. But he was just so scared. 

What if he got hurt while out on a hunt? What if he changed his mind and years down the road resented Din for keeping him? Or worst of all, what if plain and simple, he just got sick of Din? 

And then he did the same thing to you. 

He got scared.

He can’t already be regretting it, it’s been less than a day.

The sound of your voice calling him snaps him out of his trance. 

You say his name. 

His real name. 

Din. 

Second to the little noises the kid makes it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He’s not in control of himself as he stumbles towards you. Falling to his knees in front of your chair, scared to reach out to touch you because deep down he knows this isn’t real. 

You should be upset. Upset that he’s lied to you, told you that he doesn’t want you, used you. You should be throwing insults into his face but instead you reach down to put a hand on his cheek and he’s vaguely aware of the fact that in this particular dream he isn’t wearing his helmet. 

He’s so at ease from your touch he doesn’t care. 

You don’t speak. You just use your thumb to rub gentle circles into the planes of his face. Eventually the house is gone, the kitchen is gone, the table and chairs are gone and it’s just you. Standing above him, caressing his face with one hand, holding the kid to your chest with the other. 

He doesn’t dare move a muscle as he tries to burn the sight of the two of you into his memories. 

He wakes up with a start, sitting upright in his bed, his hands clawing at the helmet as he gasps for air. He haphazardly tosses it onto the sheets as tries to catch his breath. 

Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his flight suit he stuffs some rations into his satchel and locks his helmet back on. 

So he can’t stay in the cabin anymore. 

He had never even brought you here but it reeks of your absence. And that dream didn’t help in the slightest. 

There are whispers of you in every corner and crevice of his home. He’s not an idiot, he knows no matter where he goes there will always be traces of you. So there’s no sense avoiding it, he makes his way to the castle and stands guard outside your room. 

He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night. He stands against the wall opposite your bedroom door. He can’t go back to sleep, he can’t handle that dream again. So he stays up until the sun rises. 

He’s a bundle of nerves waiting for you to greet him, but you never do. You stay in your room the entire day, the only change in scenery is when Leo or one of the girls brings you food, he tries to catch a glimpse of you when the door is briefly open but he never does. 

His heart hurts. 

He doesn’t move. When the hallways are empty he eats his rations just for something to do. Sometimes he’ll turn up the external audio so he can hear you pacing around your room but most of the time it’s silent. He’ll stretch his legs every few hours, pacing the hall. And then he’ll sit and repeat. 

He wants to go in. 

He wants to tear the door down, kneel before you and beg for forgiveness. But he manages to resist. 

He doesn’t sleep when the sun goes down. 

When he feels his eyes starting to flutter he’ll chew on a ration. 

Sometimes if he feels sleep creeping up on him he thinks of things to say to you in the morning. 

He wants to say sorry. More accurately he wants to grovel at your feet and tell you he’s an idiot, that he was lying, that he didn’t mean a word of it and that he’s madly in love with you. 

Of course he won’t do that.

He shouldn’t say anything.

It’s better that way. It’s better for the both of you. 

Doesn’t mean he can’t fantasize about a world where he begs for forgiveness and you grant it. 

Would you want him in that world? All of him, not just moments in secret when one of you craved the other. He wants mornings, noons, and nights. Would you give them to him? 

He could take you away from here if you did. 

It wouldn’t be easy but when your job is to find people who don’t want to be found you get pretty good at hiding. You could change your names, go get the kid, he could make his dream real. 

Would you really want that though? 

Of course you wouldn’t. Even if he hadn’t ended things so cruelly, you were a princess and he was just Din. 

You wouldn’t want that cabin in the woods, you were too good for that. You deserved castles and gowns, not living in the woods with a Mandalorian. 

So he won’t talk to you. He will simply resign himself to loving you from afar. (Or more accurately he will love you from a few steps behind you.) And he will leave you alone because he’s caused enough problems. 

Well, if you came out of your room he would. But he can’t properly leave you alone if you won’t let him.

He’s exhausted as he sits against the door, willing himself to stay awake to avoid any more dreams. He turns up his audio for most of the day, listening to you mill about the room. 

He wishes you’d give him a reason to come in, the sound of a scuffle, a yelp, for Makers sake, if you stub your toe he could use that as an excuse just to check in on you. But all he hears are the sounds of your muffled footsteps. 

And he can’t keep his eyes open forever. 

The combination of the flight suit and his armor makes him heat up when he sits still, especially as the sun sets and the light through the windows hits him. He isn’t sure when exactly he falls asleep but he’s back in that big cabin when he does. 

He makes the executive decision this time to stay in bed. 

He doesn’t want to see you, and he doesn’t want to see the kid. Because neither of you are real, and eventually you’ll be ripped away from him when he wakes up. 

Of course his strategy doesn’t work because in this dream you bring Grogu to him. He tries to shield himself from his delusions, even in his dreams he knows it’s pitiful, a trained killer hiding under the blankets from a singular person and a sleeping child. 

You still don’t speak. Gods he wishes you would speak, he wishes you would scream at him, shame him for his cowardice but instead you peel back the sheets just enough to put the kid between the two of you and lay with him, Grogu snoring through that tiny nose of his as you lay down with him, giving him that smile that makes his heart melt and his brain turn to mush. You lean forward and your forehead rests on his. 

He knows he deserves this anguish but still, it’s ruthless. 

Everything he could ever possibly want, under one blanket and it isn’t even fucking real. 

He’s startled awake when the surface he’s laying on moves. 

He doesn’t have a lot of time to come to his senses before he’s looking up and you’re there. The real you. The dream version could never compare to the real thing. That’s how he knows he isn’t sleeping anymore. You're clearer, confusingly you’re wearing simpler clothing. He can’t really think about that right now though because he’s hit with a wave of embarrassment. 

He was the one who had ended things with you yet here he was, sitting outside your door like a dog who got locked out overnight.

You just step over him.

Just like that you’re over him. 

Literally and apparently figuratively.

Huh.

He had assumed you had locked yourself in your room because you were trying to process everything, that you were trying to repair the parts of you that had been broken. 

He had assumed you felt as terrible as he did. 

But you seem fine, like nothing even happened. 

He should be elated. That you’re not only fine but seem to be completely over it.

Instead he feels sick. He’s worried he’s going to vomit in his helmet because he can’t stop wondering if maybe you never even cared about him in the first place. It’s wrong, it’s a terrible thing to wonder and he can’t help but think of what an awful person he must be to have such a thought.

He follows behind you, as is his natural instinct but he feels like he needs to sit down again. 

Did you ever care about him? He had only ended things with you because he couldn’t handle the idea of you loving him. If you loved him and he still couldn’t be with you he wouldn’t survive it.

Yet you seem perfectly fine. 

And he can’t help but think that he ruined everything on a bad judgment call. He hasn’t felt this stupid since he almost got himself stuck in carbonite when he first bought the Crest. 

He can’t focus on a thing you’re doing, yet he stays with you the entire time, he knows you grab books and he knows you return to your chambers and he knows that at some point he ended up back on the floor, leaning against your bedroom door again. 

Maybe you had never even liked him as a friend.

He had never considered that you might have been exactly what he had claimed to be. Bored and in need of entertainment. 

That isn’t possible, you had been so upset when he had ended things.

Of course you could have just been upset because he had been unnecessarily cruel.

He has no right to be bothered by this. This was his choice. His decision. 

Maybe he chose wrong. 

It’s a little late for thoughts like that.

He can’t just change his mind.

And he’s left to think about everything he possibly could have done differently as he fights sleep. 

He doesn’t even know how he’s still standing when the sun rises and he groans as he gets to his feet. 

Your ladies in waiting go in, and this time they actually stay in and he’s more awake then he’s been in days because he knows that you’re actually going to come out today. He braces himself to see that fire in you, tells himself that last night was a fluke, that you hadn’t been prepared to see him and now that you are you’ll want to argue and berate him and he can finally sort things out in his head.

But you don’t.

You barely even look at him and you’re already walking to the library like nothing happened. 

Like it’s any other day. 

He can’t think, he can’t form a coherent thought because you seem perfectly fine. He really hadn’t meant anything to you. 

He had hoped that this confirmation would free him. That if it was true he wouldn’t feel an attraction to you anymore and he could finally get off this kriffing planet. But his adoration doesn’t waver for a second. He still feels exactly the same way except now he feels smaller. There is nothing worse than a problem that can’t be solved with a blaster. 

He’s got big plans to spend his day trying not to give in to his mental and physical exhaustion while he does everything in his power to not think about how unbothered you look. But those plans are immediately halted when you freeze up right after you get into the library. He’s puzzled for a few seconds until he sees the nook and your voice echoes inside his helmet.

“Why is your favorite color green?”

The kid, the cabin, and you. 

He wants to fall apart. He wants to collapse right there on the floor and he’s so tired he briefly considers it until he realizes you’re still not moving. He gives you a second, he knows better than to try and talk to you right now, his helmet has been silenced since the last time he had spoken to you. 

He can’t be trusted to not beg for absolution. 

Your eyes are glued on the nook and he swears you tremble slightly.

So you did care. 

He can’t even take pleasure in that fact because his heart drops when he sees your expression. It’s like looking in a mirror.  

What the hell is he supposed to do in this situation? 

He’s faced enough deadly challenges throughout his bounty hunting career to know when to just go with your gut, so that’s what he does. He gently guides you away from the nook and sits you somewhere where you won’t have to look at it. 

You look as small as he feels, there’s something so intimate about your misery that he can’t look any longer, if he does he’ll give in and all of this will have been for nothing. You’re strong, even though he wasn’t sure for a moment there he knows that you still have your fire so of course you pull yourself together. And when you speak, you address him as you task him with finding Leo and he’s so happy to not only hear your voice but to hear you sound okay that he does it without a second thought. 

He desperately waits to hear you say more but you never do. He should have seen that coming. But he’s so weary at this point, he lets himself lean against the shelves and close his eyes, just for a second, the last thing he sees is you sketching something out on the papers Leo brought you. 

Of course you’re there when he closes his eyes as well. 

There’s no cabin, no kitchen, no bedroom, no kid. It’s just you this time. And he is trapped in a never ending loop of you. Every few minutes he’ll wake up, turning to make sure you’re still there, before drifting back into unconsciousness. You’re there too, waiting for him. It’s a funny sort of hell. To wake up and see you there, to fall asleep and see you there. He can’t escape for a single second.

What else is new?

The dream you isn’t real. He can’t bring himself to interact with her, because even the fantasy of you that he has conjured up doesn’t live up to the real thing. The real you is right there, everytime he slips back into consciousness he turns to see you. He’s never been a devout man but looking at you now he gets it. How people can be religious. The idea that you can adore something so much that you commit your life to it. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that, at this point it’s unhealthy, but he’s just so tired, and you’re everywhere, and it’s hard to focus on anything but the look of pride on your face as you stare at your drawing. 

The dream you is too polished and shiny, she always seems so quiet. This is the real you, pleased with yourself, fighting back a smile because you’ve accomplished something. 

The sound of your chair pushing backwards wakes him from his strange middle ground of awake and asleep as he straightens up. He shouldn’t have let that happen, he doesn’t sleep in front of people, there’s too much risk involved but as much as your presence torments him it also soothes him. 

You seem like you’re in a rush to get back to your room and curiosity gets the best of him, so he allows himself a glance at your work as you scramble to get your things together. 

The table is covered in sketches of weapons and ships, a lot of which he recognizes from his book.

That’s what you had been drawing. 

He sees an ink depiction of the Crest and he can’t stop himself as he shoves it into his pocket, careful not to crinkle it. 

Why did he do that? 

He shouldn’t have done that.

But it’s too late because you’re out the door already which means he needs to be out the door. He trails behind you like always and there is the faintest hesitation from you where he thinks you might just invite him in, he’s imagining things, he has to be. He doesn’t think further on it as you close the door. He can barely stay upright and when he’s sure you’re out of earshot he lets himself slump back down onto the floor. 

He reaches into his pocket and holds the drawing out in front of him. 

He hadn’t told you about the Crest. This was just a freak coincidence. It’s a nice drawing though, you did it justice. 

He puts it into his bag, careful not to fold or crease it. 

He stops fighting sleep, he can’t keep this up forever so he lets his eyes close with a sigh. 

His vision fading to black as he feels a tap on his shoulder, opening his eyes he’s expecting to see you and the kid but instead of the house he’s still in the hall and instead of you it’s a rather displeased looking Togruta girl. 

He recognizes her as one of your ladies in waiting, he’s never learned her name. When she speaks she doesn’t sound even the slightest bit frightened of him like any of the other servants in the castle, she sounds furious.

“What did you do to her?”

tag list : dm or reply to be added !!

@stagerightlauren - @dins-riduur-anthe - @littleguy-bendy - @rarachelchel - @laurensnotsparkly - @gerardingurway - @reallyidontcare- @clear-your-mind-and-dream - @estoniacobaltpayne - @buckyandgeraltsupremacy - @cookielovesbook-akie - @diabaroxa - @love-the-abyss - @sasakipsposts

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin/reader #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin

[astralisbelle]

Dead Man's Hand 4 - Closer Than Ever

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: The Mandalorian gets a first-hand look at her card skills in the Razor Crest

Careful for her fingers to not brush by any buttons, she leans over the console to peer out the glass and watch as they drift further and further away from Tatooine.

She can see Mos Eisley in the distance, growing smaller and smaller until everything looks like a diorama. Despite the shrinking of everything, the expanse of Tatooine never looked bigger, its sand dunes never longer.

Her heart falls into the pit of her stomach as the Razor Crest pierces through the atmosphere, leaving behind the twin suns and desert planet. “Whoa…” Craning her head, her eyes dart back and forth, watching the stars twinkle. Once it is safe to walk about the cabin, she undoes her seat belt and stands up, leaning over the console to drink in the sights.

The stars never looked so close before. And there are more than just stars: she sees asteroids, comets, even planets in the distance that fade in and out.

It’s beautiful.

Din focuses on piloting, charting the course to Canto Bight, but he has to notice her. There is a childlike wonder in her eyes reflecting the shine of the stars, half in disbelief and half in utter splendor. A corner of his lips curls into a smile, masked by his helmet. He will let her stare for just a few moments.

She sits down slowly, taking it all in. “You do this everyday?”

“You get used to it,” he says. “Strap in. We’re gonna make the jump now.”

The jump? She does as he says, clicking her seat belt again. As soon as she finishes, Grogu jumps into her lap, startling her. He coos, almost laughing as he settles in.

“Hold onto him tight,” says the Mandalorian.

“Got it.” She wraps her arms around the child, holding him close. Though she doesn’t interact with many children, something about this one’s big, beady eyes and forehead wrinkles activates some maternal instinct in her chest to fill her with warmth. When Grogu settles his weight onto her and relaxes, it brings a smile to her lips. He claps his hands, waiting for the jump.

It steals her breath away. The stars around her warp, turning into sharp lines as the ship accelerates forward. Grogu holds up his hands and adrenaline fills her body until she becomes accustomed to it. The Mandalorian kicks up his feet and rests his hands behind his head, a soft groan of relaxation emitting from his modulator.

Looks like they were going to be here for a while.

She lets a few minutes of silence pass before attempting to strike up conversation. “So… beskar, huh? Is it that important?”

“It is the metal of my people,” he answers. “It was stolen from us in the Purge.”

“Mm.” The Purge, right… She may have offhandedly heard about that, but the streets of Tatooine doesn’t give one great history lessons. Anything she knew about Mandalorians came from Peli, but even the humble mechanic didn’t know everything.

She leans down, reaching into her packet and pulling out some dried meat that she packed for the trip. It pales in comparison to what Canto Bight would have, the very thought making her salivate. Opening the wrap, she bites off a small piece. When Grogu holds up his hand, she smiles and uses her teeth to bite off another, handing it to him. He uses both hands to hold the piece, gnawing on the top.

With a chuckle, she chews her piece before using her fingers to rip off a bigger one. She leans over, presenting it to the Mandalorian. All he does is turn to her, the darkness of his visor piercing her eyes. Lifting a brow, she takes her piece back. “What? I’m just offering.”

“I’m not taking off my helmet.”

She scoffs. “Really? When do you eat?” Then she pops the meat in her mouth.

“Not around people.”

“Never?” His silence tells her everything. “Okay, fine, sheesh. More for me and Grogu.” The kid makes a happy noise as she gives him another piece.

So far, it only seems like one person is happy to have her along. “Hmph.” She bends down, whispering to him. “Your papa is a grumpy, old stick in the mud, huh?”

“I heard that.” He turns to her. “I’m not old.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that, now would I?” She huffs again, splitting the last piece of meat down the middle between herself and Grogu. “Nothing against stick in the mud?”

He groans. “You talk too much.”

“You–!” She sits up in her chair. “Sor-ree for trying to make conversation. It’s not like this is my first time leaving Tatooine or anything. Or going somewhere new. Or traveling with someone I don’t know! The least you could do is be kinder! I’m doing you a favor, aren’t I?!” It feels good in the moment to let those feelings out, but once the silence settles in, hints of regret wash over her. She looks down at Grogu with guilt, her lips pressing together, and he simply tilts his head, confused by her words. Feeling the initial temper die down, she exhales. “S...Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to call you that. I… I know I can get all… solar pretty fast.” Grogu touches her hand, his fingers curling around one of hers. “I, uh, will be more focused on the card game. Promise.”

He says nothing back at first. Just when she thinks he isn’t going to accept it, he speaks. “Are you nervous?”

She scoffs. “Actually… yeah, I am.” She watches the stars whiz by. “Playing cantinas is one thing. But these people that will enter the tournament… they’re professionals, right? They make millions of credits off gambling alone. What if I’m… what if I’m not good enough?”

He sees the doubt in her face. Din exhales slowly, then he stands up and goes to the back of the ship, looking through its compartments. He should have a deck somewhere here, left behind by either a bounty or someone else. When he finds it, he brings it back to his seat, presenting it. “Let’s play.”

The doubt washes away, leaving an inquisitive look in her face. “Really?”

“We’ve got the time.” Din knows he stinks, so it should be an easy win for her. That should at least give her a boost of confidence. “You deal.”

A grin curls on her lips. Her fingers brush by his gloves as she takes the deck. The second the cards are in her hands, he can see her change. She sits up straighter and he watches her hands shuffle them fast, performing a couple of tricks for Grogu’s entertainment.

It’s fascinating watching someone so expressive transform into someone else in the throws of the game. Her sabacc face is neutral and cold, almost like looking in the mirror. The one advantage Din has over her is that she cannot read his face. But then again, neither can he. He wonders if she really is keeping track of their deck in her head, if she really is making all of the point calculations she spoke of before. She doesn’t even move her lips to mouth the numbers to herself.

She turns her hand, showing her cards. “Game.”

Din blinks. He looks down at his hand, then at hers. “What?” It’s the first time he sounds so thrown off-guard. “But that’s… how did you…?”

She giggles. “Told you.”

Din snatches the cards from her hands, bringing them all between his. “We’re playing again. I’m dealing this time.”

“Alright.”

A few turns pass.

“Game.”

“Dank farrik.”

She lights up the Razor Crest with her laughter. Maybe she does cheat. Din catches her wrist, ceasing her laughs for a moment. “Wh-what?”

He pulls down her sleeve… nothing. Then he checks the other. When he confirms there isn’t anything there, she brings her hands back to herself, fixing her sleeves. “Told you I don’t cheat.”

“...Right.” He clears his throat. “Just had to check."

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #work: dead man's hand #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic

[mayukicrystalqueen]

Okay so has anyone done like a DinLuke Anastasia AU? Because honestly I was listening to the Anastasia Broadway soundtrack (again) instead of my usual DinLuke playlist and like all I can think is this au.

Like Padmé and Anakin are King and Queen of Naboo, with the royal twins Luke and Leia. Don’s parents are servants who moved to Naboo from Aq Ventina and got jobs in the palace. Din is like only a few years older than Luke in this as opposed to their cannon age gap. Because of this they often hang out (I doubt Padmé or Anakin would have issue with him being friends with the hired helps kid just given who they are) Luke is Din’s best friend, but Luke’s beat friend is forever and always his twin sister Leia, though Din is a close second. Both have a crush on each other, but neither voice it.

Then when Luke is eleven and Din is like fourteen, not quite a full on revolution but enough people are unhappy with things that a group of them Storm the palace and kill Anakin and Padmé. Leia escapes with Bail Organa and is adopted by him, but Luke isn’t as lucky. Din helps him into the servants quarters, but Luke drops the music box his mom had made when he and Leia were babies. Din goes back for it, but witnesses his parents being executed for refusing to give up the twins location causing him to black out and stay separated from Luke. Luke meanwhile escapes, but falls down a hill and hits his head losing his memories. The next day a kind old lady finds him and offers to help him find somewhere to stay.

“What’s your name child?”

“I think it’s Lu…. Lu… Luka?”

“Very well Luka, let’s find you somewhere warm for the night”

Fast forward ten years, things have gotten worse, Luke is struggling to find and keep a job, Din WAS a Mandalorian, but they aren’t very welcome around Naboo anymore after one of them was involved with the murder of the King and Queen and disappearance of the Prince. He has Grogu still, but he’s a human in this au because I say so. He’s mute and likely the Star Wars equivalent of a nonverbal autistic. Grogu doesn’t like the helmet much either, he doesn’t like not seeing his dad’s face, so the helmet (and the rest of the armor) goes.

Greef and Cara come up with the plan to fool Leia, who is offering a reward for anyone who can return her brother to her. (She knows he’s alive because she can sense him in the force) Din wants no part in it, but is struggling with money and affording to care for Grogu and the amount of money offered, even split between them, would be life changing. So he, reluctantly, goes along.

The group eventually meet Luke, hoping to get off world and find his family, and agree he looks just like the missing prince (no duh). Greef and Cara are elated that Luke has no memories and just wants to find his family meaning no extra split in the reward. Din on the other hand feels bad for taking advantage of someone who looks just like his best friend. Luke for his part, recognizes Din, but can’t figure out how he knows him, or how he knows his name.

The group begins making plans to leave Naboo. Din is left with Luke and Grogu. Luke asks Din if they could have met when they were kids because he feels like he’s met him before. Din confesses he was very close to the prince before he went missing and how he was his best friend. Luke asks if he believes he’s really the prince and Din admits he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to believe his best friend would have forgotten him. Luke reminds him that he can’t remember anyone or anything from before he was eleven. (Cue in my dreams sequence) Luke accidentally floats some things making Din believe he might just be the prince. (Force users are rare and even rarer would be someone who looks so similar to Luke with force sensitivity)

After months of traveling via shuttles (no one has a ship) Din, feeling guilty eventually confesses everything to Luke, who he’s started falling in love with. Luke confronts Greef and Cara about using him to get a reward and trying to con someone who is just looking for her brother. Luke agrees to continue with them, but only to see if Leia is his sister and as he doesn’t trust Greef or Cara anymore he doesn’t want to see them afterwards. Din promises to help Luke find his family if Leia isn’t his sister and the two end up spending the night together.

Meanwhile Bail convinces Leia to give up the search, at least temporarily for her sake.

Stuff happens, Luke and Leia reunite, Luke gets his memory back, Din realizes Luka and Luke are the same person when talking with Luke results in him remembering the time Luke convinced his parents to let Din ride in the parade with them. Someone tries to kill Luke and Leia, Din stops them. Din and Luke get together, Luke adopts Grogu and the three decide to live a quiet life though Luke remains close to Leia.

I might have to write this actually.

#dinluke #skydalorian #star wars #anastasia au